 | The False One |  |
Scena Prima.
Enter Cæsar, Antony, Dollabella.Ant.
The tumult still encreases.
Cæsar.
O my fortune!
My lustfull folly rather! but 'tis well,
And worthily I am made a bondmans prey,
That after all my glorious victoryes,
In which I pass'd so many seas of dangers:
When all the Elements conspir'd against me,
Would yeild up the dominion of this head
To any mortall power; so blinde and stupid:
To trust these base Egyptians, that proclaim'd
Their periuries, in noble Pompeys death,
And yet that could not warn me.
Dol.
Be still, Cæsar,
Who ever lov'd to exercise his fate,
Where danger look't most dreadfull.
Ant.
If you fall,
Fall not alone: let the King and his Sister
Be buried in your ruines: on my life
They both are guilty: reason may assure you
Photinus nor Achillas durst attempt you,
Or shake one Dart, or Sword, aim'd at your safety,
Without their warrant.
Cæsar.
For the young King I know not
How he may be misled; but for his Sister
(Unequall'd Cleopatra) 'twere a kinde
Of blasphemy to doubt her: ougly treason
Durst never dwell in such a glorious building,
Nor can so cleare and great a spirit, as hers is,
Admit of falsehood.
Ant.
Let us seize on him then:
And leave her to her fortune.
Dol.
If he have power
Use it to your security, and let
His honesty acquit him; if he be fase,
It is too great an honour he should dye
By your victorious hand.
Cæsar.
He comes: and I
Shall do as I finde cause.
Enter Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus.
Ptol.
Let not great Cæsar
Impute the breach of hospitality,
To you (my guest) to me; I am contemn'd,
And my rebellious subjects lift their hands
Against my head: and would they aim'd no farther,
Provided that I fell a sacrifice
To gaine you safety: that this is not faign'd,
The boldnesse of my innocence may confirme you:
Had I bin privy to their bloody plot,
I now had led them on, and given faire glosse
To their bad cause, by being present with them:
But I that yet taste of the punishment,
In being false to Pompey, will not make
A second fault to Cæsar uncompell'd
With such as have not yet shooke off obedience,
I yeild my selfe to you, and will take part
In all your dangers.
Cæsar.
This pleades your excuse,
And I receive it.
Ach.
If they have any touch,
Of justice, or religion, I will use
The athority of our Gods, to call them back,
From their bad purpose.
Ap.
This part of the pallace,
Is yet defensible: we may make it good,
Till your powers rescue us.
Cæsar.
Cæsar beseig'd?
Ostaine to my great actions: 'twas my custome
An Army routed, as my feete had wings
To be first in the chase: nor walls, nor Bulworkes
Could guard those that escap'd the Battailes fury
From this strong Arme, and I to be enclos'd
My heart! my hart! but 'tis necessity,
To which the Gods must yeild, and I obey,
'Till I redeeme it, by some glorious way.
Exeunt.
| The False One | |