 | The Tragedie of Caesar and Pompey or Caesars Reuenge |  |
ACT. 3.
Enter Discord.Dis.
Now Cæsar rides triumphantly through Rome,
And deckes the Capitoll with Pompeys spoyle:
Ambition now doth vertues seat vsurp,
Then thou Reuengfull great Adastria Queene.
Awake with horror of thy dubbing Drumm,
And call the snaky furies from below,
To dash the Ioy of their triumphing pride,
Erinnis kindle now thy Stigian brands,
In discontented Brutus boyling brest,
Let Cæsar die a bleeding sacrifice,
Vnto the Soule of thy dead Country Rome.
Why sleepest thou Cassius? wake thee from thy dreame.
And yet thou naught dost dreame but blood and death.
For dreadfull visions do afright thy sleepe.
And howling Ghosts with gastly horrors cry,
By Cassius hand must wicked Cæsar die,
Now Rome cast of thy gaudy painted robes
And cloth thy selfe in sable colored weedes,
Change thy vaine triumphs into funerall pomps,
And Cæsar cast thy Laurell crowne apart,
And bind thy temples with sad Cypres tree.
Of warrs thus peace insues, of peace more harmes,
Then erst was wrought by tragick wars alarmes,
Exit.
SCE. 1.
Enter Cassius.Cas.
Harke how Cæsarians with resounding shoutes,
Tell heauens of their pompes and victories,
And daliance vayne of his Proud Curtezan,
Had luld his sterne and bloody thoughts a sleepe,
Now in Rome streets ore Romaines come to triumph,
And to the Romains shews those Tropheyes sad,
Which from the Romaines he with blood did get:
The Tyrant mounted in his goulden chayre,
Rides drawne with milke white palferies in like pride,
As Phæbus from his Orientall gate,
Mounted vpon the firy Phlegetons backes.
Comes prauncing forth, shaking his dewie locks:
Cæsar thou art in gloryes cheefest pride,
Thy sonne is mounted in the highest poynt:
Thou placed art in top of fortunes wheele,
Her wheele must turne, thy glory must eclipse,
Thy Sunne descend and loose his radiant light,
And if none be, whose countryes ardent loue,
And losse of Roman liberty can moue,
Ile be the man that shall this taske performe.
Cassius hath vowed it to dead Pompeys soule,
Cassius hath vowed it to afflicted Rome,
Cassius hath vowed it, witnes Heauen and Earth,
Exit
SCENA 2.
Enter Cæsar, Antony, Dolobella, Lords, two Romaines, & othersCæsar.
Now haue I shaked of these womanish linkes,
In which my captiud thoughts were chayned a fore,
By that fayre charming Circes wounding look,
And now like that same ten yeares trauayler,
Leauing be-hind me all my trobles past.
I come awayted with attending fame,
Who through her shrill triump doth my name resound,
And makes proud Tiber and Lygurian Poe,
(Yet a sad witner of the Sunne-Gods losse,)
Beare my names glory to the Ocean mayne,
Which to the worlds end shall it bound it againe,
With conquering spoyles and Tropheus proud returnd,
When great Typheus fell by thundering darts,
And rod away with their Cælestiall troops,
In greatest pride through Heauens smooth paued way,
So shall the Pompeous glory of my traine,
Daring to match ould Saturns kingly Sonne,
Call downe these goulden lampes from the bright skie,
And leaue Heauen blind, my greatnes to admire.
This laurell garland in fayre conquest made,
Shall stayne the pride of Ariadnes crowne,
Clad in the beauty of my glorious lampes,
Cassiopea leaue thy starry chayre,
And on my Sun-bright Chariot wheels attend,
Which in triumphing pompe doth Cæsar beare.
To Earths astonishment, and amaze of Heauen:
Now looke proude Rome from thy seuen-fould seate,
And see the world thy subiect, at thy feete,
And Cæsar ruling ouer all the world.
Dolo.
Now let vs cease to boast of Romulus,
First author of high Rome and Romaines name.
Nor talke of Scaurus, worthy Africans,
The scurge of Libia, and of Carthage pride,
Nor of vnconquered Paulus dauntles minde,
Since Cæsars glory them exceedes as farre
As shining Phebe doth the dimmest starre.
Ant.
Like as the Ship-man that hath lost the starre.
By which his doubtfull ship he did direct,
Wanders in darkenes, and in Cloudy night,
So hauing lost my starr, my Gouernesse.
Which did direct me, with her Sonne-bright ray,
In greefe I wander and in sad dismay:
And though of triumphes and of victoryes,
I do the out-ward signes and Trophies beare,
Yet see mine inward mind vnder that face,
Whose collours to these Triumphes is disgrace.
Lord.
As when from vanquished Macedonia,
Triumphing ore King Persius ouerthrow,
Shewing the worlds spoyles which he had bereft,
From the successors of great Alexander,
With such high pomp, yea greater victories,
Cæsar triumphing coms into fayre Rome,
1. Rom.
In this one Champion all is comprehended,
Which ancient times in seuerall men commended,
Alcides strength, Achilles dauntles heart,
Great Phillips Sonne by magnanimity.
Sterne Pyrhus vallour, and great Hectors might,
And all the prowes, that ether Greece or Troy,
Brought forth in that same ten years Troians warre.
2. Rom.
Faire Rome great monument of Romulus.
Thou mighty seate of consuls and of Kings:
Ouer-victorious now Earths Conquerer,
Welcome thy valiant sonne that to thee brings,
Spoyles of the world, and exquies of Kings.
Cæsar.
The conquering Issue of immortall Ioue,
Which in the Persian spoyles first fetch his fame.
Then through Hydasspis, and the Caspian waues,
Vnto the sea vnknowne his praise did propagate,
Must to my glory vayle his conquering crest:
The Lybick Sands, and Africk Sirts hee past.
Bactrians and Zogdians, knowne but by their names,
Whereby his armes resistles, powers subdued,
And Ganges streames congeald with Indian blood,
Could not transeport his burthen to the sea.
But these nere lerned at Mars his games to play,
Nor tost these bloody bals, of dread and death:
Arar and proud Saramna speaks my praise,
Rohdans shrill Tritons through their brasen trumpes,
Ecco my fame against the Gallian Towers,
And Isis wept to see her daughter Thames.
Chainge her cleere cristall, to vermilian sad,
The big bond German, and Heluetian stout,
Which well haue learned to tosse a tusked speare,
And well can curbe a noble stomackt horse,
Can Cæsars vallour witnes to their greefe
That with his cole-black Negroes to the field,
Backt with Numidian and Getulian horse,
Hath felt the puissance of a Roman sword,
I entred Asia with my banners spred,
Displayed the Ægle on the Euxin sea:
By Iason first, and ventrous Argo cut,
And in the rough Cimerian Bosphorus:
A heauy witnesse of Pharnaces flight,
And now am come to triumph heere in Rome,
VVith greater glory then ere Romaine did.
Exeunt.
Sound drums and Trumpets amaine.
Enter Anthony.
Antho.
Alas these triumphes mooue not me at all,
But only do renew remembrance sad,
Of her triumphing and imperious lookes,
VVhich is the Saint and Idoll of my thoughtes:
First was I wounded by her percing eye:
Next prisoner tane by her captiuing speech,
And now shee triumphes ore my conquered heart,
In Cupids Chariot ryding in her pride,
And leades me captiue bounde in Beauties bondes:
Cæsars lip-loue, that neuer touch'd his heart,
By present triumph and the absent fire,
Is now waxt could; but mine that was more deepe,
Ingrauen in the marble of my brest,
Nor time nor Fortune ere can raze it out.
Enter Anthonies bonus genius.
Gen.
Anthony, base femall Anthony,
Thou womans souldiar, fit for nights assaults,
Hast thou so soone forgot the discipline,
And wilsome taskes thy youth was trayned to,
Thy soft downe Pillow, was a helme of steele:
The could damp earth, a bed to ease thy toyle,
Afrigted slumbers were thy golden sleepes:
Hunger and thirst thy sweetest delicates,
Sterne horror, gastly woundes, pale greesly death:
Thy winde depressing pleasures and delights,
These manly labours luld in drowsy sleepe:
The Gods (whose messenger I heere do stand)
Will not then drowne thy fame in Idlenesse:
Yet must Philippi see thy high exploytes,
And all the world ring of thy Victories.
Antho.
Say what thou art, that in this dreadful sort
Forbidd'st me of my Cleopatra's loue.
Gen.
I am thy bonus Genius, Anthony,
VVhich to thy dul eares this do prophecy:
That fatall face which now doth so bewitch thee,
Like to that vaine vnconstant Greekish dame,
VVhich made the stately Ilian towres to smoke,
Shall thousand bleeding Romains lay one ground:
Hymen in sable not in saferon robes,
Instead of roundes shall dolefull dirges singe.
For nuptiall tapers, shall the furies beare,
Blew-burning torches to increase your feare:
The bride-grooms scull shal make the bridal bondes:
And hel-borne hags shall dance an Antick round,
VVhile Hecate Hymen (heu, heu) Hymen cries,
And now methinkes I see the seas blew face:
Hidden with shippes, and now the trumpets sound,
And weake Canopus with the Ægle striues,
Neptune amazed at this dreadfull sight:
Cals blew sea Gods for to behold the fight,
Glaucus and Panopea, Proteus ould,
VVho now for feare changeth his wonted shape,
Thus your vaine loue which with delight begunne:
In Idle sport shall end with bloud and shame.
Exit.
Antho.
VVhat wast my Genius that mee threatned thus?
They say that from our birth he doth preserue:
And on mee will he powre these miseries?
VVhat burning torches, what alarums of warre,
VVhat shames did he to my loues prophesie?
O no hee comes as winged Mercurie,
From his great Father Ioue, t' Anchises sonne
To warne him leaue the wanton dalliance,
Then wake the Anthony from this idle dreame,
Cast of these base effeminate passions:
Which melt the courrage of thy manlike minde,
And with thy sword receiue thy sleeping praise.
Exit.
SC. 3.
Enter Brutus.Bru.
How long in base ignoble patience,
Shall I behold my Countries wofull fall,
O you braue Romains, and among'st the rest
Most Noble Brutus, faire befall your soules:
Let Peace and Fame your Honored graues awaite,
Who through such perils, and such tedious warres,
Won your great labors prise sweete liberty,
But wee that with our life did freedoms take,
And did no sooner Men, then free-men, breath:
To loose it now continuing so long,
And with such lawes, such vowes, such othes confirm'd
Can nothing but disgrace and shame expect:
But soft what see I written on my seate,
O vtinam Brute viueres.
What meaneth this, thy courage dead,
But stay, reade forward, Brute mortuus es.
I thou art dead indeed, thy courrage dead
Thy care and loue thy dearest Country dead,
Thy wonted spirit and Noble stomack dead.
Enter Cassius.
Cassi.
The times drawe neere by gratious heauens assignd
When Philips Sonne must fall in Babilon,
In his triumphing proud persumption:
But see where melancholy Brutus walkes,
Whose minde is hammering on no meane conceit:
Then sound him Cassius, see how hee is inclined,
How fares young Brutus in this tottering state.
Bru.
Euen as an idle gazer, that beholdes,
Cassi.
But wil Brute alwaies in this dreame remaine,
And not bee mooued with his Countries mone.
Bru.
O that I might in Lethes endles sleepe,
And neere awaking pleasant rest of death
Close vp mine eyes, that I no more might see,
Poore Romes distresse and Countries misery.
Casi.
No Brutus liue, and wake thy sleepy minde,
Stirre vp those dying sparkes of honors fire,
VVhich in thy gentle breast weare wont to flame:
See how poore Rome opprest with Countries wronges,
Implores thine ayde, that bred thee to that end,
Thy kins-mans soule from heauen commandes thine aide:
That lastly must by thee receiue his end,
Then purchas honor by a glorious death,
Or liue renown'd by ending Cæsars life.
Bru.
I can no longer beare the Tirants pride,
I cannot heare my Country crie for ayde,
And not bee mooued with her pitious mone,
Brutus thy soule shall neuer more complaine:
That from thy linage and most vertuous stock,
A bastard weake degenerat branch is borne,
For to distaine the honor of thy house.
No more shall now the Romains call me dead,
Ile liue againe and rowze my sleepy thoughts:
And with the Tirants death begin this life.
Rome now I come to reare thy states decayed,
VVhen or this hand shall cure thy fatall wound,
Or else this heart by bleeding on the ground.
Cas.
Now heauen I see applaudes this enterprise,
And Rhadamanth into the fatall Vrne,
That lotheth death, hath thrust the Tirants name,
Cæsar the life that thou in bloud hast led:
Shall heape a bloudy vengance on thine head.
Exeunt.
SCE. 4.
Enter Cæsar, Anthony Dolobella, Lords, and others.Cæs.
Now servile Pharthia proud in Romaine spoile,
Shall pay her ransome vnto Cæsars Ghost:
Which vnreuenged roues by the Stygian strond,
Exclaming on our sluggish negligence.
Leaue to lament braue Romans, loe I come,
Like to the God of battell, mad with rage,
To die their riuers with vermilion red:
Ile fill Armenians playnes and Medians hils,
With carkases of bastard Scithian broode,
And there proud Princes will I bring to Rome,
Chained in fetters to my charriot wheeles:
Desire of fame and hope of sweete reueng,
Which in my brest hath kindled such a flame,
As nor Euphrates, nor sweet Tybers streame,
Can quench or stack this feruent boyling heate:
These conquering souldiers that haue followed me,
From vanquisht France to sun-burnt Meroe,
Matching the best of Alexanders troopes.
Shall with their lookes put Parthian foes to flight,
And make them twise turne their deceitfull lookes,
Ant.
These restlesse mind that harbors sorrowing thoughts,
And is with child of noble enterprise,
Doth neuer cease from honors toilesome taske,
Till it bringes forth Eternall gloryes broode.
So you fayre braunch of vertues great discent,
Now hauing finish'd Ciuill warres sad broyles,
Intend by Parthian triumphes to enlarge,
Your contryes limits, and your owne renowne,
But cause in Sibilles ciuill writs we finde,
None but a King that conquest can atchiue,
Both for to crowne your deedes with due reward,
And as auspicious signes of victorye.
Wee here present you with this Diadem,
Lord.
And euen as kings were banish'd Romes high throne
So to your rule doth shee submit her selfe,
That her renowne there by might brighter shine,
Cæsar.
Why thinke you Lords that tis ambitions spur.
That pricketh Cæsar to these high attempts,
Or hope of Crownes, or thought of Diadems,
That made me wade through honours perilous deepe,
Vertue vnto it selfe a shure reward,
My labours all shall haue a pleasing doome,
If you but Iudge I will deserue of Rome:
Did those old Romaines suffer so much ill?
Such tedious seeges, such enduring warrs?
Tarquinius hates, and great Porsennas threats,
To banish proude imperious tyrants rule?
And shall my euerdaring thoughts contend
To marre what they haue brought to happy end:
Or thinke you cause my Fortune hath expeld,
My friends, come let vs march in iolity,
Ile triumph Monarke-like ore conquering Rome,
Or end my conquests with my countryes spoyles,
Dolo.
O noble Princely resolution.
These or not victoryes that we so call,
That onely blood and murtherous spoyles can vaunt:
But this shalbe thy victory braue Prince,
That thou hast conquered thy owne climing thoughts,
And with thy vertue beat ambition downe,
And this no lesse inblazon shall thy fame.
Then those great deeds and chiualrous attempts,
That made thee conqueror in Thessalia.
Ant.
This noble mind and Pincely modesty,
Which in contempt of honours brightnes shines,
Makes vs to wish the more for such a Prince,
Whose vertue not ambition won that praise,
Nor shall we thinke it losse of liberty.
Or Romaine liberty any way impeached,
For to subiect vs to his Princely rule,
Whose thoughts fayre vertue and true honor guides:
Vouchsafe then to accept this goulden crowne,
Cæs.
Content you Lordes for I wilbe no King,
An odious name vnto the Romaine eare,
Cæsar I am, and wilbe Cæsar still,
No other title shall my Fortunes grace:
Which I will make a name of higher state
Then Monarch, King or worldes great Potentate.
Of Ioue in Heauen, shall ruled bee the skie,
The Earth of Cæsar, with like Maiesty.
This is the Scepter that my crowne shall beare,
And this the golden diadem Ile weare,
A farre more rich and royall ornament,
Then all the Crownes that the proud Persian gaue:
Forward my Lordes let Trumpets sound our march,
And drums strike vp Reuenges sad alarms,
Parthia we come with like incensed heate,
As great Atrides with the angry Greekes,
Marching in fury to pale walls of Troy.
SC. 5.
Enter Cassius, Brutus, Trebonius, Cumber Casca.Tre.
Braue Lords whose forward resolution,
Shewes you descended from true Romaine line,
See how old Rome in winter of her age,
Reioyseth in such Princely budding hopes,
No lesse then once she in Decius vertue did,
Or great Camillus bringing back of spoyles.
On then braue Lords of this attempt begun,
The sacred Senate doth commend the deede:
Your Countries loue incites you to the deed,
Vertue her selfe makes warrant of the deed,
Then Noble Romains as you haue begun:
Neuer desist vntill this deede be done.
Casi.
To thee Reueng doth Cassius kneele him downe.
Thou that brings quiet to perplexed soules,
And borne in Hel, yet harborest heauens ioyes,
Bloud-thirsty pleasures and misboding blisses
Brought forth of Fury, nurse of cankered Hate,
To drowne in woe the pleasures of the world.
Thou shalt no more in duskish Erebus:
And dark-some hell obscure thy Deity,
Insteede of Ioue thou shalt my Godesse bee,
To thee faire Temples Cassius will erect:
And on thine alter built of Parian stone
Whole Hecatombs will I offer vp.
Laugh gentle Godesse on my bould attempt,
Yet in thy laughter let pale meager death:
Bee wrapt in wrinkels of thy murthering spoyles.
Bru.
An other Tarquin is to bee expeld,
An other Brutus liues to act the deede:
Tis not one nation that this Tarquin wronges,
All Rome is stayn'd with his vnrul'd desires,
Shee whose imperiall scepter was invr'd:
To conquer Kings and to controul the world,
Cannot abate the glory of her state,
To yeeld or bowe to one mans proud desires:
Sweete Country Rome here Brutus vowes to thee,
To loose his life or else to set thee free.
Cas.
Shame bee his share that doth his life so prize,
That to Romes weale it would not sacrifize,
My Poniardes point shall pearce his heart as deepe,
As earst his sworde Romes bleeding side did goare:
And change his garments to the purple die,
With which our bloud had staynd sad Thessaly.
Cam.
Hee doth refuse the title of a King,
But wee do see hee doth vsurp the thing.
Tre.
Our ancient freedome hee empeacheth more,
Then euer King or Tyrant did before.
Cas.
The Senators by him are quite disgrac'd,
Rome, Romans, Citty, Freedome, all defac'd.
Cassi.
We come not Lords, as vnresolued men,
For to shewe causes of the deed decreed,
This shall dispute for mee and tell him why,
If it be true that furies quench-les thirst,
Is pleas'd with quaffing of ambitious bloud,
Then all you deuills whet my Poniards point,
And I wil broach you a bloud-sucking heart:
Which full of bloud, must bloud store to you yeeld,
Were it a peerce to flint or marble stone:
Why so it is for Cæsars heart's a stone,
Els would bee mooued with my Countries mone.
They say you furies instigate mens mindes,
And push their armes to finnish bloudy deedes:
Prick then mine Elbo: goade my bloudy hand,
That it may goare Cæsars ambitious heart.
Exeunt.
SCENA 6.
Enter Cæsar, Calphurnia.Cæs.
Why thinkes my loue to fright me with her dreames?
Shall bug-beares feare Cæsars vndaunted heart,
Whome Pompeys Fortune neuer could amaze,
Nor the French horse, nor Mauritanian boe,
And now shall vaine illusions mee affright:
Or shadowes daunt, whom substance could not quell?
Calphur.
O dearest Cæsar, hast thou seene thy selfe,
(As troubled dreames to me did faine thee seene:)
Torne, Wounded, Maymed, Blod-slaughtered, Slaine,
O thou thy selfe, wouldst then haue dread thy selfe:
And feard to thrust thy life to dangers mouth.
Cæs.
There you bewray the folly of your dreame,
For I am well, aliue, vncaught, vntoucht.
Calphur.
T'was in the Senate-house I sawe thee so,
And yet thou dreadles thither needes will go.
Cæs.
The Senate is a place of peace, not death,
But these were but deluding visions.
Calphur.
O do not set so little by the heauens,
Dreames ar diuine, men say they come from Ioue,
Beware betimes, and bee not wise to late:
Cæs.
Weepe not faire loue, let not thy wofull teares
Bode mee, I knowe what thou wouldest not haue to hap
It will distaine mine honor wonne in fight
To say a womans dreame could me affright.
Cal.
O Cæsar no dishonour canst thou get,
In seeking to preuent vnlucky chance:
Foole-hardy men do runne vpon their death,
Bee thou in this perswaded by thy wife:
No vallour bids thee cast away thy life.
Cæs.
Tis dastard cowardize and childish feare,
To dread those dangers that do not appeare:
Cal.
Thou must sad chance by fore-cast, wise resist,
Or being done say boote-les had I wist.
Cæs.
But for to feare wher's no suspition,
Will to my greatnesse be derision.
Cal.
There lurkes an adder in the greenest grasse,
Daungers of purpose alwayes hide their face:
Cæs.
Perswade no more Cæsar's resolu'd to go.
Cal.
The Heauens resolue that hee may safe returne,
For if ought happen to my loue but well:
His danger shalbe doubled with my death.
Exit.
Enter Augur.
Augur.
I, come they are, but yet they are not gon.
Cæs.
What hast thou sacrifiz'd, as custome is,
Before wee enter in the Senat-house.
Augur.
O stay those steeps that leade thee to thy death,
The angry heauens with threeatning dire aspect,
Boding mischance, and balfull massacers,
Menace the ouerthrowe of Cæsars powre:
Saturne sits frowning on the God of Warre,
VVho in their sad coniunction do conspire,
Vniting both their bale full influences,
To heape mischance, and danger to thy life:
The Sacrificing beast is heart-les found:
Sad ghastly sightes, and raysed Ghostes appeare,
Which fill the silent woods, with groning cries:
The hoarse Night-rauen tunes the chearles voyce,
And calls the bale-full Owle, and howling Doge,
Neere is the ouerthrow of Cæsars blisse.
Exit.
Cæsar.
The world is set to fray mee from my wits,
Heers harteles Sacrifice and visions,
Howlinge and cryes, and gastly grones of Ghosts,
Soft Cæsar do not make a mockery,
Of these Prodigious signes sent from the Heauens,
Calphurnias Dreame Iumping which Augurs words,
Shew (if thou markest it Cæsar) cause to feare:
This day the Senate there shalbe dissolued,
And Ile returne to my Calphurnia home,
One giues him a paper.
What hast thou heare that thou presents vs with,
Pre.
A thing my Lord that doth concerne your life.
Which loue to you and hate of such a deed,
Makes me reueale vnto your excellence.
Cæsar laughs.
Smilest thou, or think'st thou it some ilde toy,
Thout frowne a non to read so many names.
That haue conspird and sworne thy bloody death,
Exit.
Enter Cassius.
Cassius.
Now must I come, and with close subtile girdes,
Deceaue the prey that Ile deuoure anon,
My Lord the Sacred Senate doth expect,
Your royall presence in Pompeius court:
Cæsar.
Cassius they tell me that some daungers nigh.
And death pretended in the Senate house.
Cassi.
What danger or what wrong can be,
Where harmeles grauitie and vertue sits,
Tis past all daunger present death it is,
Nor is it wrong to render due desert.
To feare the Senators without a cause,
Will bee a cause why theile be to be feared,
Cæsa.
The Senate stayes for me in Pompeys court.
And Cæsars heere, and dares not goe to them,
Packe hence all dread of danger and of death,
What must be must be; Cæsars prest for all,
Cassi.
Now haue I sent him headlong to his ende,
Vengance and death awayting at his heeles,
Cæsar thy life now hangeth on a twine,
Thy chaire of state now turn'd is to thy Beere,
Thy Princely robes to make thy winding sheete:
The Senators the Mourners ore the Hearse,
And Pompeys Court, thy dreadfull graue shalbe.
Senators crie all at once.
Omnes.
Hold downe the Tyrant stab him to the death.
Casi.
Now doth the musick play and this the song
That Cassius heart hath thirsted for so long:
And now my Poniard in this mazing sound,
Must strike that touch that must his life confound.
Stab on, stab on, thus should your Poniards play,
Aloud deepe note vpon this trembling Kay.
stab him.
Buco.
Bucolian sends thee this.
stab him.
Cum.
And Cumber this.
stab him.
Cas.
Take this frō Casca for to quite Romes wronges.
Cæs.
Why murtherous villaines know you whō you strike,
Tis Cæsar, Cæsar, whom your Poniards pierce:
Cæsar whose name might well afright such slaues:
O Heauens that see and hate this haynous guilt,
And thou Immortall Ioue that Idle holdest
Deluding Thunder in thy faynting hand,
Why stay'st thy dreadfull doome, and dost with-hold,
Thy three-fork'd engine to reuenge my death:
But if my plaintes the Heauens cannot mooue,
Then blackest hell and Pluto bee thou iudge:
You greesly daughters of the cheereles night,
Whose hearts, nor praier nor pitty, ere could lend,
Leaue the black dungeon of your Chaos deepe:
Come and with flaming brandes into the world,
Reuenge, and death, bringe seated in your eyes:
And plauge these villaynes for their trecheries.
Enter Brutus.
Bru.
I haue held Anthony with a vaine discourse,
The whilst the deed's in execution,
But liues hee still, yet doth the Tyrant breath?
Chalinging Heauens with his blasphemies,
Heere Brutus maketh a passage for thy Soule,
Cæs.
What Brutus to? nay nay, then let me die,
Nothing wounds deeper then ingratitude,
Bru.
I bloody Cæsar, Cæsar, Brutus too,
Doth geeue thee this, and this to quite Romes wrongs,
Cassius.
O had the Tyrant had as many liues,
As that fell Hydra borne in Lerna lake,
That heare I still might stab and stabing kill,
Till that more liues might bee extinquished,
Then his ambition, Romanes Slaughtered.
Tre.
How heauens haue iustly on the authors head,
Returnd the guiltles blood which he hath shed,
And Pompey, he who caused thy Tragedy,
Here breathles lies before thy Noble Statue,
Enter Anthony.
Anth.
What cryes of death resound within my eares,
Whome I doe see great Cæsar buchered thus?
What said I great? I Cæsar thou wast great.
But O that greatnes was that brought thy death:
O vniust Heauens, (if Heauens at all there be,)
Since vertues wronges makes question of your powers,
How could your starry eyes this shame behold,
How could the sunne see this and not eclipze?
Fayre bud of fame ill cropt before thy time:
What Hyrcan tygar, or wild sauage bore,
(For he more heard then Bore or Tyger was,)
Durst do so vile and execrate a deede,
Could not those eyes so full of maiesty,
Nor priesthood (o not thus to bee prophand)
Nor yet the reuerence to this sacred place,
Nor flowing eloquence of thy goulden tounge,
Nor name made famous through immortall merit,
Deter those murtherors from so vild a deed?
Sweete friend accept these obsequies of mine,
Which heare with teares I doe vnto thy hearse,
And thou being placed among the shining starrs.
Shalt downe from Heauen behold what deepe reueng,
Exit with Cæsar, in his armes.
FINIS. Act. 3.
| The Tragedie of Caesar and Pompey or Caesars Reuenge | |