 | Caesar and Pompey |  |
Act III.
Scene I.
Pompey, two Consuls, fiue Kings, Brutus, Gabinius, Demetrius.
Now to Pharsalia, where the smarting strokes
Of our resolu'd contention must resound,
(My Lords and friends of Rome) I giue you all
Such welcome as the spirit of all my fortunes,
Conquests, and triumphs (now come for their crowne)
Can crowne your fauours with, and serue the hopes
Of my deare Country, to her vtmost wish;
I can but set vp all my being to giue
So good an end to my forerunning Acts;
The powers in me that formd them hauing lost
No least time since, in gathering skill to better;
But like so many Bees haue brought me home,
The sweet of whatsoeuer flowers haue growne
In all the meades, and gardens of the world.
All which hath growne still, as the time encrease
In which twas gather'd, and with which it stemm'd.
That what decay soeuer blood inferr'd,
Might with my mindes store, be suppli'd, and cher'd.
All which, in one fire of this instant light
Ile burne, and sacrifice to euery cincer
In sacred offering to my Countreys loue,
And therefore what euent soeuer fort,
As I no praise will looke for, but the good
Freely bestow on all; (if good succeed)
But th'ill befalne me, made my fortunes shame,
Not mine, nor my fault.
1 Cons.
We too well loue Pompey,
To doe him that iniustice.
Bru.
Who more thirsts
The Conquest, then resolues to beare the foile?
Pom.
Said Brutus-like, giue seuerall witnesse all,
That you acquit me whatsoeuer fall.
2 Cons.
Particular men particular fates must beare,
Who feeles his owne wounds lesse, to wound another?
Thess.
Leaue him the worst whose best is left vndone,
He only conquers whose minde still is one.
Epir.
Free mindes, like dice, fall sqare, what ere the cast.
Ibir.
Who on himselfe sole stands, stands solely fast.
Thra.
He's neuer downe, whose minde sights still aloft.
Cil.
Who cares for vp or downe, when all's but thought.
Gab.
To things euents doth no mans power extend.
Dem.
Since gods rule all, who any thing would mend.
Pom.
Ye sweetly ease my charge, your selues vnburthening.
Return'd not yet our trumpet, sent to know
Of Vibius certaine state?
Gab.
Not yet, my Lord.
Pomp.
Too long protract we all meanes to recouer
His person quick or dead, for I still thinke
His losse seru'd fate, before we blew retreat;
Though some affirme him seene, soone after fighting.
Dem.
Not after, Sir, (I heard) but ere it ended.
Gab.
He bore a great minde to extend our pursuit
Much further then it was; and seru'd that day
(When you had, like the true head of a battaile,
Led all the body in that glorious turne)
Vpon a farre-off Squadron that stood fast
In conduct of the great Marc Anthony,
When all the rest were fled, so past a man
That in their tough receipt of him, I saw him
Thrice breake thorow all with ease, and passe as faire
Pom.
He stuck at last yet, in their midst, it seem'd.
Gab.
So haue I seene a fire drake glide at midnight
Before a dying man to point his graue,
And in it stick and hide.
Dem.
He comes yet safe.
A Trumpet sounds, and enters before Vibius, with others.
Pom.
O Vibius, welcome, what a prisoner?
With mighty Cæsar, and so quickly ransom'd?
Vib.
I Sir, my ransome, needed little time,
Either to gaine agreement for the value,
Or the disbursment, since in Cæsar grace
We both concluded.
Pom.
Was his grace so free.
Vib.
For your respect, Sir.
Pom.
Nay, Sir, for his glory.
That the maine Conquest he so surely builds on,
(Which euer is forerun with petty fortunes)
I ake not effect, by taking any friend
From all the most, my poore defence can make,
But must be compleat, by his perfect owne.
Vib.
I know, Sir, you more nobly rate the freedome
He freely gaue your friend; then to peruert it
So past his wisdome: that knowes much too well
Th'vncertaine state of Conquest; to raise frames
Of such presumption on her fickle wings,
And chiefely in a losse so late, and grieuous.
Besides, your forces farre exceeding his,
His whole powers being but two and twenty thousand:
And yours full foure and forty thousand strong:
For all which yet, he slood as farre from feare
In my enlargement, as the confident glory
You please to put on him; and had this end
In my so kinde dismission, that as kindely
Pom.
A peace? Is't possible?
Vib.
Come, doe not shew this wanton incredulity too much.
Pom.
Beleeue me I was farre from such a thought
In his high stomack: Cato prophecied then.
What thinke my Lords our Consuls, and friend Brutus?
Omn.
An offe: happy.
Bru.
Were it plaine and hearty.
Pom.
I, there's the true inspecton to his prospect.
Bru.
This streight of his perhaps may need a sleight
O some hid stratagem, to bring him off.
Pom.
Deuices of a new fordge to entrap me?
I rest in Cæsar shades? walke his strow'd paths?
Sleepe in his quiet waues? Ile sooner trust
Hibernian Boggs, and quicksands; and hell mouth
Take for my sanctuary: in bad parts
That no extreames will better, natures finger
Hath markt him to me, to take heed of him.
What thinks my Brutus?
Bru.
Tis your best and safest.
Pom.
This offer'd peace of his is sure a snare
To make our warre the bloodier, whose fit feare
Makes me I dare not now (in thoughts maturer
Then late enclin'd me) put in vse the Counsaile
Your noble father Cato (parting) gaue me,
Whose much too tender shunning innocent blood,
This battaile hazards now, that must cost more.
1 Cons.
It does, and therefore now no more deferre It.
Pom.
Say all men so?
Omn.
We doe.
Pom.
I grieue ye doe,
Because I rather wish to erre with Cato
Then with the truth goe of the world besides;
But since it shall abide this other stroke,
Ye gods that our great Romane Genius
Haue made, not giue vs one dayes conquest only,
Nor grow in conquests for some little time,
Nor be by land great only, like Laconians;
Nor yet by sea alone, as was th'Athenians;
Nor slowly stirr'd vp, like the Persian Angell,
Nor rockt asleepe soone, like the Ionian spirit.
But made our Romane Genius, fiery, watchfull,
And euen from Romes prime, ioynd his youth with hers,
Grow as she grew, and firme as earth abide,
By her encreasing pomp, at sea, and shore,
In peace, in battaile; against Greece as well
As our Barbarian foes; command yet further
Ye firme and iust gods, our assistfull Angell
For Rome, and Pompey, who now fights for Rome;
That all these royall Lawes, to vs, and iustice
Of common safety, may the selfe-loue drowne
Of tyrannous Cæsar; and my care for all
Your Altars crown'd with endlesse festiuall.
Exeunt.
Cæsar, Anthony, a Soothsayer, Crassinius, Acilius, with others.
Cæs.
Say (sacred Southsayer) and informe the truth,
What liking hast thou of our sacrifice?
Sooth.
Imperiall Cæsar, at your sacred charge,
I drew a milke, white Oxe into the Temple,
And turning there his face into the east,
(Fearefully shaking at the shining light)
Downe fell his horned forehead to his hoofe,
When I began to greet him with the stroke,
That should prepare him for the holy rites,
With hydeous roares he laid out such a throat
As made the secret lurkings of the god
To answer ecco-like, in threatning sounds:
I stroke againe at him, and then he slept,
His life-blood boyling out at euery wound
In streames as cleare as any liquid Ruby,
And there began to alter my presage,
Of your last skirmish, which farre opposite now
Proues, ill beginnings good euents foreshew.
For now the beast cut vp, and laid on th'Altar,
His lims were all lickt vp with instant flames,
Not like the Elementall fire that burnes
In houshold vses, lamely struggling vp,
This way and that way winding as it rises,
But (right and vpright) reacht his proper sphere
Where burnes the fire eternall and sincere.
Cæs.
And what may that presage?
Sooth.
That euen the spirit
Of heauens pure flame flew downe and rauisht vp
Your offerings a blaze in that religious instant,
Which shewes th'alacritie and cheerefull virtue
Of heauens free bounty, doing good in time,
And with what swiftnesse true deuotions clime.
Omn.
The gods be honor'd.
Sooth.
O behold with wonder,
The sacred blaze is like a torch enlightned,
Directly burning iust aboue your campe!
Omn.
Miraculous.
Sooth.
Beleeue it, with all thanks:
The Romane Genius is alterd now,
And armes for Cæsar.
Cæs.
Soothsayer be for euer
Reuerenc't of Cæsar. O Marc Anthony,
I thought to raise my camp, and all my tents.
Tooke downe for swift remotion to Scorassa.
Shall now our purpose hold?
Anth.
Against the gods?
They grace in th'instant, and in th'instant we
Must adde our parts, and be in th'vse as free.
Crass.
See Sir, the scouts returne.
Enter two scouts.
Cæs.
What newes, my friends?
1 Scou.
Arme, arme, my Lord; the voward of the foe
Is rang'd already:
Answer them, and arme:
You cannot set your rest of battell vp
In happyer houre; for I this night beheld
A strange confusion in your enemies campe,
The souldiers taking armes in all dismay,
And hurling them againe as fast to earth.
Euery way routing; as th'alarme were then
Giuen to their army. A most causelesse feare
Disperst quite through them.
Cæs.
Then twas Ioue himselfe
That with his secret finger stirr'd in them.
Crass.
Other presages of successe (my Lord)
Haue strangely hapn'd in th'adiacent Cities,
To this your army: for in Tralleis,
Within a Temple, built to Victory,
There stands a statue of your forme and name,
Neare whose firme base, euen from the marble pauement,
There sprang a Palme tree vp, in this last night,
That seemes to crowne your statue with his boughs,
Spred in wrapt shadowes round about your browes.
Cæs.
The signe, Crassinius, is most strange and gracefull,
Nor could get issue, but by power diuine;
Yet will not that, nor all abodes besides
(Of neuer such kinde promise of successe)
Performe it without tough acts of our owne.
No care, no nerue the lesse to be emploid;
No offering to the gods, no vowes, no prayers:
Secure and idle spirits neuer thriue
When most the gods for their aduancements striue.
And therefore tell me what abodes thou buildst on
In an spirit to act, enflam'd in thee,
Or in our Souldiers seene resolu'd addresses?
Crass.
Great and firy virtue. And this day
Be sure (great Cæsar) of effects as great
In absolute conquest; to which are prepar'd
Enforcements resolute, from this arm'd hand,
Which thou shalt praise me for aliue or dead.
Aliue (ye gods vouchsafe) and my true vowes
For life in him (great heauen) for all my foes
(Being naturall Romans) so farre ioyntly heare
As may not hurt our Conquest; as with feare
Which thou already strangely hast diffusde
Through all their army; which extend to flight
Without one bloody stroke of force and fight.
Anth.
Tis time, my Lord, you put in forme your battell.
Cæs.
Since we must fight then, and no offerd peace
Will take with Pompey: I reioyce to see
This long-time lookt for, and most happy day.
In which we now shall fight, with men, not hunger,
With toyles, not sweats of blood through yeares extended,
This one day seruing to decide all iarres
Twixt me and Pompey. Hang out of my tent
My Crimsine coat of armes, to giue my souldiers
That euer-sure signe of resolu'd-for fight.
Crass.
These hands shall giue that signe to all their longings.
Exit Crass.
Cæs.
My Lord, my army, I thinke best to order
In three full Squadrons: of which let me pray
Your selfe would take on you the left wings charge;
My selfe will lead the right wing, and my place
Of fight elect in my tenth legion.
My battell by Domitius Calvinus
Shall take direction.
The Cote of Armes is hung out, and the Souldiers shoute within.
An.
Heark, your souldiers shoute
For ioy to see your bloody Cote of Armes
Assure their fight this morning.
Cæs.
A blest Euen
Bring on them worthy comforts. And ye gods
Performe your good presages in euents
Of fit crowne for our discipline, and deeds
Wrought vp by conquest; that my vse of it
Of Tyrant from my Temples: and exchange it
For fautor of my Country, ye haue giuen
That title to those poore and fearefull fowles
That euery sound puts vp, in frights and cryes;
Euen then, when all Romes powers were weake and heartles,
When traiterous fires, and fierce Barbarian swords,
Rapines, and soule-expiring slaughters fild
Her houses, Temples, all her ayre, and earth.
To me then (whom your bounties haue enform'd
With such a spirit as despiseth feare;
Commands in either fortune, knowes, and armes
Against the worst of fate; and therefore can
Dispose blest meanes, encourag'd to the best)
Much more vouchsafe that honor; chiefely now,
When Rome wants only this dayes conquest giuen me
To make her happy, to confirme the brightnesse
That yet she shines in ouer all the world;
In Empire, riches, strife of all the Arts,
In gifts of Cities, and of kingdomes sent her;
In Crownes laid at her feet, in euery grace
That shores, and seas, floods, Islands, Continents,
Groues, fields, hills, mines, and metals can produce;
All which I (victor) will encrease, I vow
By all my good, acknowledg'd giuen by you.
| Caesar and Pompey | |