 | The Tragedy of Sertorius |  |
SCEN. IV.
Fulvia, Perpenna.Ful.
The angry Fates now croud to serve our will;
Lest they should want in mischief, as in pow'r:
Ligurius, Decius, are my Proselytes,
Greedily swallow up the gilded bait,
And hurry on to ruin. But, I fear,
Bebricius Friendship will admit no change
For, tho he loves, and to the height of passion,
In his rough Soul such Honor is imprest,
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Than derogate from him who fills his praise.
Perp.
Crassus, Norbanus, and Tribunius com;
With many more inclin'd unto our Faction.
The lightest Souls thou hast already fir'd,
While the consid'ering Fools are catch'd by me:
Norbanus honor, nor the Tribuneship
Which Crassus has, nor fam'd Tribunius charge,
Are strong enough against th'assaults I make.
Ful.
What doom you of Bebricius?
Perp.
He must dy.
Ful.
Then, let him dy: but shall he fall, before
The Tragedy intended?
Perp.
Yes, he must:
Lest he betray us to that Fiend Sertorius.
Ful.
I think, 'twere better that you let him fall
Associate with the mighty Deity
He Idolizes: let 'em mount together;
And, erring from the slipp'ry paths of Heav'n,
Sink headlong down, into eternal Night.
Perp.
Retire, my Fair, and invocate of Chance
To cease the motion of her giddy Wheel,
Till I have fixt the Engins of his Fate.
[Exit. Fulvia.
Answer me, Jove, in Thunder, if that man
To greatness born, by interposing Fate
Headlong flung-down th'aspiring Precipice,
Yet lab'ring to regain the mighty top,
Views round the spacious Empire of his toil;
Can any guile or fraud asperse his fame
Who makes his opposite his step to mount?
If thou darst answer me, I wil speak aloud
That Romulus, the man thou snatch'd from Earth
To Deify, forgetting tyes of bloud,
Remov'd his Brother, to secure his Rule.
I dare as much, and court thee in my deeds,
Tho Ill, yet great, and offer 'em to thee;
For thou, with thoughts Olympic fir'st the brave,
Lifts 'em from Earth into the middle sky,
And points 'em out the Regions of the World:
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(As once unto Lycaon's House thou did'st)
Turn all into a Flame, and Nature change.
Enter a Servant.
Serv.
Sir, there are many Gentlemen without
That wait admittance.
Perp.
Go, conduct 'em in:
They're the Conspirators.
Exit. Servant.
| The Tragedy of Sertorius | |