 | Pompey the Great |  |
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Act Fourth
Scene First.
Ptolomey, Achillas, Photinus.Ptolom.
Beyond belief is the sad News you tell,
By the same Hand and Sword that Pompey fell,
Septimius slain? Achillas, wert thou there,
Saw'st thou the sad Effect of his Despair?
Achil.
I saw him Dye, and with his latest Breath
Seem to advise us in the Pangs of Death
To Judge of Cæsars slow advised Rage;
Wrath soon Inflam'd as quickly may Asswage,
But study'd Anger and deliberate Hate,
Grows up with Time and carries certain fate:
Nor must we hope his Fury will decline,
He calls it (Just Revenge) 'tis meer Design.
With Pompey's Ghost, a League he would Contract,
And Punishing that much Repented Act,
Strives to obtain, (for Cæsar Grasps at all)
Empire and Glory by his Rivals fall.
Ptolom.
Ah! had thy good Advice Belief obtain'd,
Without a Master Ptolomey had Reign'd,
But Kings still chuse (Govern'd by some ill Fate)
The worst Advice after a Long debate;
Destiny blinds them, or if any Light
Seem to inform, it but deceives their Sight,
And with delusive Glimmerings leads them on,
Till they have Reach'd their own Destruction.
Photin.
I was deceiv'd in Cæsar all this while,
For he his Rivals Death doth Murder style;
But since th'ungratefull Tyrant can Defame
So a Great a Service with so Foul a Name,
By the same Hand let his own Blood be spilt,
And we in that will wash our former Guilt.
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Nor would deferr Revenge till he depart,
This sharp Disease must have a Sudden Cure,
Let us no more his Insolence indure;
By Cæsar's Death wee'l Pompey's Ghost appease,
Secure our Selves, and give the whole World ease,
When Rome her Self shall call him Tyrant too,
And owe her Peace, and Liberty to you.
Ptolom.
Photinus, now thy Reasons must perswade.
Shall I descend to be of him Affraid,
VVhom I have Rais'd and made thus to be Fear'd?
No, no, my Vengeance shall not be Deferr'd,
That in one day Ægypt may twice become
The great Disposer of the Fates of Rome;
Cæsar forget thy Pride for Battel's won,
And only think of what my Power has done;
For Pompey fell beneath the Fatal stroke,
Pompey, who once thy Envy could provoke,
And therefore was as Great, the VVorld shall see,
That thou art Mortal too as well as he:
To the Dead Hero thou art grown so kind,
'Twere Cruelty to keep thee here behind.
Achil.
Sir, to our Selves it were: at once his fall
Gives full Revenge and Safety to us all;
Revenge and Safety dear to all Mankind,
And in his Death their Interests are Joyn'd.
Ptolom.
Nor shalt thou Cæsar of thy Justice boast,
I must appease both Romes and Pompey's Ghost,
And of thy Insolence Revenge will take,
VVho spar'st a King but for his Sisters sake;
Nor shall my Fortunes still in Danger lye,
Both of her Hate and thy Inconstancy,
That when you please, those Toyes my Life and Crown,
Reward a Smile, or Punishes a Frown.
No, my Respects and Fears are laid aside,
Thou shalt not long enjoy thy cruel Pride,
And since thou didst Command me to prepare
Victims for Pompey with advice and care,
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There is no fitter Sacrifice than thee,
Whose Blood might sooner on the Altar spilt,
Appease his Ghost or Expiate our Guilt;
But 'tis in Vain my Friends with Angry words
To threaten Cæsar; we must know what Swords
We can Employ to Exectue our Will,
The Tyrants Army are our Masters still:
Let us consult, and suddenly advise,
How to Destroy 'em by a close Surprize.
Achil.
Sir, Let us first secure our own Defence;
You have six Thousand men some two Miles hence,
Which I from several Quarters have drawn down
For fear of Stirs in this Tumultuous Town;
With all their Care the Romans have not found
A secret Sally we have under Ground,
Through which by Night unknown to Cæsars Guard,
We may Conduct them to the Palace Yard;
For should we now the Roman Host invade,
With Trumpets Sounding, Ensigns wide Display'd,
Head-long we might to Death and Danger run,
And vainly perish e're our Work were done.
No, at the Feast let him receive his Doom,
Doubly before with Love and Wine o'recome;
Then if we can but Muster all our Powers,
I'm Confident the Towns-men will be ours;
For I perceive the Tyrant does Incense
Their Angers by his Pomp and Insolence,
And when they saw his Vessels under Sail,
Proudly inforce our fearfull Fleet to Vail,
They scarcely could those Sparks of Anger tame,
Which we will quickly Blow into a Flame:
But above all the Valiant Roman Band,
Whom Dead Septimius lately did Command,
By all the Gods and Powers above have Sworn,
To be Reveng'd of Cæsar's Bloody scorn.
Ptolom.
But how to fix our Weapons in his Breast,
If all his Guard surround him at the Feast?
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Great Sir, the Roman Souldiers in your Pay,
Amongst the Servants of Cornelia
Have met with Friends and Kinsmen, who may be
Fit Actors all in this Great Tragedy;
These we shall soon perswade to undertake
Their Tyrants Slaughter for their Masters sake;
They as Cornelia's Train have free access,
Which may assure us of a good Success,
So that whilst Cæsar flatters Pompey's Wife,
He would secure, but shall expose his Life.
But Cleopatra comes, smooth your Rough Brow;
And wisely seem with Servil fear to bow;
We must begon being Objects of her Hate.
Ptolom.
Go, and expect me, I'le be with your straight.
Scene the Second.
Ptolomey, Cleopatra, Charmion.Cleop.
Brother, with Cæsar I have done my best
To make your Peace, and Calm his Angry breast.
Ptolom.
'Twas nobly done, I could have hop'd no more,
Though I had us'd you like your Self before;
But your brave Lover Sister left you soon.
Cleop.
Some little Tumult raised in the Town,
Lest that their Rage and Numbers should encrease
He would himself secure the publique Peace,
And I was glad that I had time to tell
This happy News, since none can do't so well;
I saw great Cæsars brow without a frown,
You need not fear your Person nor your Crown,
Cæsars so much your Friend, that for your sake
He's mov'd to Pity, the advice you take
Of such base Counsel, who in everything
Will make ye more a Tyrant than a King,
These men Composed of the Coursest Earth,
Whose Souls are baser than their Obscure Birth,
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Cloath 'em with Purple, but 'tis all in Vain,
Their Native Baseness is a foul Disease
Which none can Cure, and such Men as these
Faintly let fall, when Rais'd to high Commands,
The Weighty Scepters from their Trembling hands.
Ptolom.
Sister, 'tis true, and now I find too late,
How ill I chose my Ministers of State;
Had I left them, and been Advis'd by you,
I'd Liv'd with Glory as my Equals do,
And had deserv'd the Kindness which you still
Retain for me, though I have us'd you Ill;
My Palace then had been the Happy place,
VVhere Cæsar might his Conquer'd Son Imbrace,
And when the World had found all Troubles cease,
She'd been oblig'd to Ægypt for her Peace;
I as a Friend to both, had by the Laws
Of Ægypt Judg'd of the great Roman Cause;
But since what's past can now find no redress,
To you I freely may my Griefs express,
I us'd you Ill, and your Revenge was shewn
In the preserving both my Life and Crown:
Subdue your Self still in this Noble strife,
And save Photinus and Achillas Life,
They merit Death since they Offended you,
But then my Reputation suffers too;
If for my Crimes these VVorthless VVretches Dye,
I shall Live Heir to all their Infamy;
Oblige me, Sister, let your Eyes bright Charms
Melt the Stern man like Lightning through his Arms,
That I to you may Owe with gratefull shame,
My Life, my Kingdome, and what's more, my Fame.
Cleop.
VVere it in me to Punish or Forgive,
My Scorn is great enough to let them Live,
But to solicit Cæsar 'twill be Vain,
Since by their Hands Pompey was basely Slain;
His Blood with Cæsar's Justice will oppose
This strange Desire of mine to save my Foes;
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He the Discourse to something else did VVave,
And such a Kind of careless Cunning us'd,
My Prayer was neither Suffer'd nor Refus'd;
But now at your Request I'le fully prove,
VVhat Interest I have in Cæsar's Love,
And I dare Hope—
Ptolom.
—He comes, let me begone,
You'l have more Power when you are alone,
My presence might another Passion move,
I'le wholly leave him to your Self and Love.
Exeunt.
Scene the Third.
Cæsar, Cleopatra, Antonius, Lepidus, Charmion, Achoreus, Romans.Cæsar.
My Queen, this Storm is laid without much harm,
A small Commotion gave a great Alarm;
But when I left you I began-to find
A greater Tumult in my Troubled mind.
Love, my most powerfull Passion made me hate
Success and Greatness, Curse the Cruel fate
That rais'd me, since thus great I cannot spare
My self one hour of Joy, but some new Care
Still calls me from you, yet I straight again
Am reconcil'd to Fortune, and restrain
My Causeless passion, nay, adore my Bays,
Since they my Hopes as well as Person raise
To that Auspicious height from whence I see,
So fair a Prospect of Felicity,
That I dare hope Requital of my Flame,
Though my Ambitious Love make you his Aim.
You now may Cæsar with like Ardour meet,
Kings cast their Crowns and Scepters at my feet;
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Who more deserves the Glory of your Chains,
On whose high Throne you might with greater State,
Give Laws to Nations, and Dispose of Fate,
By force of Arms I would my Title prove,
His Rival less for Empire than for Love,
Nor should I hope you would my Flames allow,
Till I had made so great a Rival bow;
These were the Ambitious hopes which have thus farr
Engag'd your Cæsar in a Civil Warr,
And that I might this glorious Right maintain,
I Conquer'd Pompey on Pharsalia's Plain;
Where e're I Fought, your Beauty did afford
Strength to my Arm, and Sharpness to my Sword,
And all the fair Success I had in Arms,
Were the Effects of your Bright Beauties Charms,
Which in my Breast did first this Passion move,
And now has Rais'd me Equal to your Love,
Since I without a Rival am become
Master of all the World and Head of Rome:
These are the Titles that my Valour gave,
Which love innobles by the name of Slave,
And I am more than Blest if you approve,
And perfect the Success of humble Love.
Cleop.
These Honours are too great, I needs must know
What Cleopatra does to Cæsar owe,
And should I nicely still conceal my Flame,
I must my Love and Reason too Disclaim;
Your high Affections did my Child-hood grace,
When Beauty only Budded in my Face,
Then first you gave, and since restor'd my Crown,
After all this I must a Passion own,
And that my Heart no longer can exclude,
The force of Love and that of Gratitude;
But yet alas my glorious Birth and Fate,
The Restoration of my Crown and State,
And all the Honours I from you enjoy,
My better Hopes and my Desires Destroy,
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Instead of Raising, casts me lower down,
And marks of Regal power, like Brands of shame,
Render me more Unworthy of your Flame.
Yet I dare hope, since I your Power know,
And what the Gods to so much Virtue owe,
That I by you this haughty Rome shall see,
Bound in the Golden Chains of Monarchy;
Then she shall soon forget the Cruel hate,
She always bore to Kings, while yet a State,
Growing Enamour'd of your Scepters awe,
Whilst your Examples serve her for a Law;
She shall from you far Nobler Maxims take,
And Love all Princes for her Cæsar's sake.
How well may I expect this Change of Rome,
From him that could great Pompey overcome?
Your Power I know can greater Wonders do,
And I implore no other God but you.
Cæsar.
When Love bids Cæsar use his utmost Force,
Wonders grow easie, and ne're stop my Course;
My Ensigns stain'd with Gore should I display,
I in a March might Conquer Africa,
And the Remains of my Despised Foes,
Would to my Arms, their Flying Backs oppose,
Then wanting Power, this proud, this haughty Rome,
Should Cæsars servil Flatterer become;
At my return she shall our Triumph meet,
And cast her Pride and Hatred at your feet,
And whilst I here persue my glorious Fate,
She shall e're long become my Advocate,
And with all humble Duty beg a Race
Of glorious Cæsars from your Chaste imbrace.
This Fruit I hope from my Victorious Bays,
Rather than large Dominion or high Praise;
But e're I reach this height of Happiness,
I must forsake all that I now possess.
Oh that my Foes were Men so void of Fear,
That they durst come and bid me Battel here;
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Since I lose you to gain a Victory;
But this my Fondness Love will disallow,
To gain you ever I must leave you now;
Where e're they fly I thither must remove,
To perfect Conquest and deserve your Love:
But e're I go from those all Conquering Eyes,
Let me receive the Soul of Victories,
That all my Foes may cry struck with pale Dread,
He comes, he sees, and we are Conquered.
Cleop.
Too much great Sir, I must such Love abuse,
Which makes me Sin, and will my Fault excuse;
You gave me Freedome, Life, and Scepter too,
Which gives me Confidence to Trouble you;
And I Conjure you by Loves powerfull Charms,
By the Success which still attends your Arms,
By your fair Hopes and mine, by all thats good,
You would not Die my Royal Robes in Blood:
Be gracious Sir, and pardon, or let me,
As my first Act of Soveraignty;
Photin and Achillas we should Disdain,
And they are Punish'd now they see me Reign,
And this their Crime—
Cæsar.
—Ah take some other way,
To shew your Power, how soon should I obey?
But this my Queen is more than Tyranny,
To lay their Baseness and their Crimes on me.
Some Worthier Subjects to your Mercy take,
And think what's done already for your Sake,
That with the King himself I dare dispence,
Were not my Flames—
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Scene the Fourth.
Cæsar, Cornelia, Cleopatra, Achoreus, Antonius, Lepidus, Charmion and Romans.Cornel.
Cæsar , make some Defence,
They have Design'd thy Death, and that thy Blood
With Pompey's Gore should make one Purple flood.
If not prevented, this their close Compact,
The Bloody Villains straight will put in Act.
My Slaves are in, from them by Tortures try
To know the Depth of this Conspiracy,
For I Disclaim them.
Cæsar.
These are Resentments of a Roman heart,
Worthy the man of whom you were a part,
His Manes sure, who saw that this my Care
Of his Revenge did my own Death prepare,
Have so forgot our Quarrel and all Hate,
They're now the Guardian Angels of my Fate,
And in a Gratefull and far Nobler strife,
By you his Living part have sav'd my Life.
In spight of all that Treachery could do,
Pompey's not Dead, he still Survives in you;
His noble Soul did in your Breast make stay,
To Vanquish Cæsar this most Generous way.
Cornel.
Thou art become thine own base Flatterer.
Canst thou believe that I will ought preferr
To my Revenge? no, the deplored Fate
Of my Dead Lord, so just a cause of Hate,
Shall ever be of Force to Disallow
All terms of Reconcilement 'twixt us two.
My promis'd Liberty, let me enjoy,
That I that freedome wholly may employ
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Each man I meet I'le strive to make thy Foe,
And in the Quarrel of my Murder'd Lord,
Engage the World, if thou dar'st keep thy word;
I will pursue thee with a Changeless hate,
Yet here prevent thy base Assassinate;
For my Desires on Juster grounds are Built,
Than to obtain them by so foul a Guilt.
Cæsar.
Madam, but that your Self my Death prevent,
You'd been at once Reveng'd and Innocent.
Cornel.
Who knows and suffers it, does Guilty grow;
I wish thy Death, but as a noble Foe,
That none but Pompey's Sons their Hands should stain,
In the high Blood of Cæsar nobly Slain;
Who Arm'd with brave Revenge, shall at the Head
Of all thy Dreadfull Legions strike thee Dead,
And to my Hero's Ghost a Victim make,
Whose just Revenge you Nobly undertake.
T'obtain an intire Vengeance I'le ingage
All th'Active powers of Wit inspir'd by Rage;
Thy Life is Threatn'd, I am thy Defence,
My Hate is full of Care and Providence:
For now I need not in some forein Coast
Go seek Revenge, which so deferr'd were lost,
Nor for Joves Thunder travel Africks Sands,
I see it Graspt already in thy Hands;
No Mortal power can the Stroak prevent,
On thee I might have turn'd the Punishment,
But that my Reason forc'd me to preferr
My Pompey's Victor to his Murderer.
Nor am I so with Rage and Passion blind,
But that my Honour too engag'd I find,
To punish the Audacious Treachery
Of their base Crimes, before thy Victory.
Great Rome will have it so, who else would spread
Her sacred Fore-head with a blushing Red,
That both her Noblest Heads at once should feel,
Though Crown'd with Lawrel, an unworthy Steel;
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So shrunk as for to suffer thee to Reign,
Would count thy Murderers more her Enemies,
And her Adored Liberty despise:
None but a Roman could impose the Yoak,
Which by a Roman only must be broke;
Thy Ruine here, Heav'ns Justice would prevent,
And be a Crime instead of Punishment,
Defrauding my Just Vengeance, and Mankind,
Of that Example thou should'st leave behind.
Do thou Revenge great Rome of Ægypts crime,
And I'le revenge Her if I can of thine;
But now make haste to save thy Threaten'd Life,
And boast thou wert preserv'd by Pompey's Wife.
Exeunt.
Scene the Fifth.
Cæsar, Cleopatra, Antonius, Lepidus, Achoreus, Charmion.Cæsar.
Her noble Rage and their bold Crime alike
My Soul with Wonder and Amazement strike.
Are these the Men great Queen you'd have me save?
Cleop.
Your gracious pardon for my Self I crave,
Your Justice I no longer will prevent,
Go Sir, and give them their due Punishment.
These Traitors most of all My Death desire,
Against my Crown and Person they conspire,
You being my Support, they but design
Your Death and Ruine to make way to mine.
Just were my Anger, yet I must with grief
Remember that their Leader and their Chief
Is still my Brother, may I hope again
To tempt your Pity and this Sute obtain,
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You would Distinguish Him from all the rest?
Cæsar.
I will, and must preserve him, for this Arm,
Where you would save, can have no power to harm,
Despise all fear, these base Assassinates
Can ne're Subvert or Change our glorious Fates;
Exposing but a Gibbet to their sight,
A Band of Hangmen puts them all to flight,
Who shall, to work upon their Guilty fear,
My Rods and Axes for their Ensigns bear.
[Exit Cæsar and Romans.
Cleop.
Good Achoreus, where so e're he goes,
Be still with Cæsar, aid him 'gainst my Foes,
And when their Blood imbrues his angry Blade,
Urge thou the promise he so lately made;
Be carefull of the King, avert my Fears,
And spare his Blood that I may spare my Tears.
Acho.
Madam, if all my Diligence and Care
Can save his Life, you have no cause to fear.
Exeunt omnes.
| Pompey the Great | |