University of Virginia Library

Scene the first.

Cæsars Tents.
Enter Cæsar, Agrippa, Mecœnas.
Cæsar,
My offers scornd! Ambassadors abus'd!
Yet he of Pride unjustly is accus'd.

Mec.
Thyreus was ill chose, he long has been
A secret Servant to th'Ægyptian Queen.
What if I went with terms more moderate;
I, who am less Obnoxius to his hate.

Cæs.
This Offer now the danger grows so near,
In a man less known, shou'd take for fear.

Agrip.
His Insolence no longer I defend.

Cæs.
See here the Challenge he thinks fit to send.

[Agrip. reads.
Agrip.
In single Combat let our Fencers fight:
With Armies, Emperors dispute their right.

Cæs.
Like him, I Roman blood would gladly spare,
And to a Combat would contract the War.
My youth, and unfoil'd strength, may Conquest claim
Over this Shadow of a mighty Name:
Now prest with Age, and with Debauches worn,
Th'unequal Combat I not fear, but scorn.

Agrip.
He like an aged Oak in Autumn shows,
From whose dry Arms some Leaves each minute blows;
One King or Ally, still forsake his side,
His Empire ebbs like a declining Tide.
Have patience, Sir, he of himself muk fall,
Who in despair does for the Combat call.

Cæs.
To a brave Death I'll open him the way;
See an Assault be made without delay.
I at my Armies head shall soon appear,
And if he dares, he may engage me there.

Enter Octavia.
Octav.
O Brother! if that name have yet a Pow'r,
And be not lost in that of Emperor:
Pity my sad estate, since I alone
On both sides mourning, can rejoyce on none.
The World divided in their wishes stand;
My self alone stab'd through on every hand.
A Brother here! There must a Husband fall;
On the just Gods I know not how to call!
No chance of War can with my mind comply;
But I must weep at eithers Victory.

Cæs.
If I o'rcome, your Husband I will spare.

Octav.
He will not spare himself, I more than fear,
Shou'd he prevail, th'Egyptian Queen will sway;
Whom you, and I, and he, must all obey.
His am'rous heart must execute her will,
And whom she frowns on, in Obedience kill.
You to Ambition must a Victim bleed,
And from my hated Title to his bed,
Must Cleopatra in my Death be freed;
And haughty Rome acknowledg a vain Queen,
Or be of Civil Arms th'endless Scene.

Cæs.
He doth all terms of Reconcilement slight:
There nothing now remains but that we fight.
He's now a meer soft Purple Asian Prince;
And Rome his Empire has disown'd long since.

Octav.
Ingrateful Rome! but most ingrateful you!
Can you forget whom Cassius overthrew?
Who first to Rome a Parthian triumph show'd,
And the long Pride of that great Empire bow'd?
Who the first Cæsar made, revenged his death,
And fixt that Empire, which he did bequeath,
On you almost unknown: Where they receive,
Base Natures hate; and Love, but where they give.

Cæs.
Go serve th'Ægyptian, learn to dress her head;
Your slighted Love, and your neglected Bed
Can you forget; and fulsomely pursue
The Man with kindness, who despises you?
I shou'd my self scorn fawning Beauty too:
'Tis as absurd, as if the Gods shou'd sue.

Oct.
Wives (like good Subjects, who to Tyrants bow)
To Husbands though unjust, long patience owe:
They were for Freedom made, Obedience We,
Courage their vertue, ours is Chastity.
Reason it self in us must not be bold,
Nor decent Custom be by Wit controul'd.
On our own heads we desperately stray,
And are still happiest, the vulgar way.

Cæs.
Who ever did such Moral Nonsence hear?
My Sister sure is turn'd Philosopher.
But we Antonius Pride will soon pull down;
This hour shall give me his whole lifes renown.
I the long trade of Fame disdain to drive;
But to the Top will at one step arrive.

Octav.
Since then my pray'rs and tears can nothing gain,
In the Foes Camp no longer I'll remain.
The Arms I hate, my presence shall not grace;
Antonius Cause I'll openly embrace.
To Rome I'll go, and all thy acts disown;
Make thy Ambition, and thy Falshood known
To every Roman of the Sword and Gown,
Till th'art more hated far than Cateline,
Then Scilla, Marius, or the Tarquins Line.
Some will for Freedom, some Antonius fight,
And against Thee both parties I'll unite;
Amongst thy Foes I like a Spark will fall,
And to a sudden Flame convert 'em all.

Cæs.
You wou'd not sure my Love so ill repay.

Octa.
Your Love! your Pride and endless Thirst of sway.
To gain my friends, my Quarrel you pretend,
But universal Empire is your end.
Rome's once great Senate now is but a name;
While some with fear, and some with Bribes you tame.
Men learn at Court what they must there repeat,
And for Concurrence, not for Council meet.
At least all such as think of being great,
They blindly labour at their own ill fate,
And dig up by the roots the tottering State.

Cæs.
Against Antonius Riots they declare,
And I at their Command but wage this War.

Octa.
Dull Long-gown Statesmen you may feel that Sword
Which thus you whet against my injur'd Lord.
When Cæsar wills a Law, for all your rules,
It will be better taught in Camps, than Schools.

Cæs.
Your fears distract you, or you needs must see
Your hopes of happiness depend on me.
'Tis my success must make Antonius find
The dire effect of an unbridled mind.

Oct.
Who ever did an Emperor reform?
Scarce Heav'n it self can that great Task perform.

Cæs.
Heaven chooses me the fittest instrument,
And on that glorious Task I'm wholly bent.

Oct.
Is't thus Mecœnas, you promote the Peace?
But you ne'r meant, and promise but to please.

Mec.
All that I durst, I have already said:
I urg'd him till he thought I was afraid.
But where such Beauty, and such Goodness fail;
What other Intercession can prevail;

Oct.
Mecœnas, I no Complements expect
From one, who does my first Commands neglect.

Mec.
Men that like me have giv'n their Passions vent,
Are never after held indifferent.
Hatred, or Love, pursues the bold attempt;
It meets with a return, or with contempt.
I fear the latter is Mecænas lot.

Oct.
I charge you, never entertain me more
With that false Love which hath so little pow'r.
Your breach of Word, I easily forgive,
I'm free, and am not now oblig'd to live:
Nor will I long, the first attacq survive.

[She weeps.
Mec.
A sound like that, what Lover can indure?
I'll move once more, shou'd I his hate procure.
Ah Sir, your weeping Beautious Sister view;
Then if you can, her Husbands life pursue:
Such softness might an angry God disarm,
And from his hand, the brandisht Thunder charm.

Cæs.
What means Mecœnas softned in her tears?
Another Man he to my eyes appears.
Where is that Soul bids me be Absolute,
And the dissenting World with Swords confute.
Move forwards still, and spread my Conqu'ring Arms,
As far as Cinthia lights, or Phœbus warms.

Mec.
I can no more, you your own Cause must plead;
I wou'd, but can't against my self perswade;
Tho unsuccessful my endeavours were,
It was some Merit to obey so far.

Enter Messenger.
Mess.
The Enemy preventing our attacq,
Does a fierce Sally on our Forces make.
Our formost Troops the warm ingagement shun,
And to Canidius his Old Souldiers run.

Cæs.
Then be your Tent your Prison for a while.
[To Octavia.
Now let us seize the Lyon in our Toil.—

Ex. Onmes.