 | The Tragedie of Cleopatra |  |
Scæna I.
Cleopatra.Cæsario. Rodon.
Come
Rodon, here, conuey from out this coast
This pretious iem, the chiefest I haue left,
The iewell of my soule I value most,
My deare Cæsario: Saue him, saue my theft,
Guide him to India, lead him farre from hence,
Conceale him where secure he may remaine,
Till better fortune call him backe from thence,
And Egypts peace be reconcil'd againe,
For this is he that may our hopes bring backe,
The rising Sunne of our declining state:
These be the hands that may restore our wracke,
And raise the shattered ruines made of late:
He may giue limits to the boundlesse pride
Of fierce Octauius, and abate his might,
Great Iulius ofspring, he may come to guide
The Empire of the world, as his by right.
This pretious iem, the chiefest I haue left,
The iewell of my soule I value most,
My deare Cæsario: Saue him, saue my theft,
Guide him to India, lead him farre from hence,
Conceale him where secure he may remaine,
Till better fortune call him backe from thence,
And Egypts peace be reconcil'd againe,
For this is he that may our hopes bring backe,
The rising Sunne of our declining state:
These be the hands that may restore our wracke,
And raise the shattered ruines made of late:
He may giue limits to the boundlesse pride
Of fierce Octauius, and abate his might,
Great Iulius ofspring, he may come to guide
The Empire of the world, as his by right.
Ro.
No doubt he may, deare Soueraigne when the rage
Of this confused storme is ouerpast,
That furiously now beates vpon this age,
And, may be, is too violent at last.
Into th'Ascendent of felicitie,
And makes the round and full of glory now,
May come to waine likes others wretchednes:
No tyrant can prescribe to iniurie:
Kings Rights may oft be sicke, but neuer die.
Ch.
Rodon, my selfe, those turnes of Chance haue seen
And known both sides of fortune, worst & best
And therefore he, whose birth, whose sexe hath beene
Worthier then mine, why should not he reblest
Turne backe to rule the scepter of this land?
Which ah, how well it would become this hand?
And known both sides of fortune, worst & best
And therefore he, whose birth, whose sexe hath beene
Worthier then mine, why should not he reblest
Turne backe to rule the scepter of this land?
Which ah, how well it would become this hand?
O how he seemes the modell of his syre,
Now doe I gaze my Cæsar in his face:
Such was his gate, so did his lookes aspire,
Such was his threatning brow, such was his grace;
Hie shouldred, and his forehead euen as hie,
And had he not, ay me, bin borne so late,
He might haue rul'd the worlds wide Monarchy.
And now haue bin the Champion of our State.
But O deare sonne, the time yeilds no delaies,
Sonne of my youth, flie hence, O flie, be gone,
Reserue thy selfe, ordain'd for better daies,
For much thou hast to ground thy hopes vpon.
Leaue me thy wofull mother to indure
The fury of this tempest here alone,
Who cares not for her selfe, so thou be sure:
Thou maiest reuenge when others can but mone.
Rodon will see thee safe, Rodon will guid
Thee in the way, thou shalt not need to feare,
Rodon my faithfull seruant will prouide
What shall be best for thee, take thou no care.
And O good Rodon, tender well his youth,
The wayes are long, and dangerous euery where;
I vrge it not, that I doe doubt thy truth,
But mothers cast the worst, and alwaies feare.
“The absent danger greater still appeares,
“Lesse feares he, who is neere the thing he feares.
Now doe I gaze my Cæsar in his face:
Such was his gate, so did his lookes aspire,
Such was his threatning brow, such was his grace;
Hie shouldred, and his forehead euen as hie,
And had he not, ay me, bin borne so late,
He might haue rul'd the worlds wide Monarchy.
And now haue bin the Champion of our State.
But O deare sonne, the time yeilds no delaies,
Sonne of my youth, flie hence, O flie, be gone,
Reserue thy selfe, ordain'd for better daies,
For much thou hast to ground thy hopes vpon.
Leaue me thy wofull mother to indure
The fury of this tempest here alone,
Who cares not for her selfe, so thou be sure:
Thou maiest reuenge when others can but mone.
Rodon will see thee safe, Rodon will guid
Thee in the way, thou shalt not need to feare,
Rodon my faithfull seruant will prouide
What shall be best for thee, take thou no care.
And O good Rodon, tender well his youth,
The wayes are long, and dangerous euery where;
I vrge it not, that I doe doubt thy truth,
“The absent danger greater still appeares,
“Lesse feares he, who is neere the thing he feares.
Rod.
Madame, nor can, nor haue I other gage;
To lay for this assurance of my troth,
But th'earnest of that faith, which all my age
Your grace hath tri'd: and which againe by oath
Vnto the care of this sweet Prince I vow,
Whose safetie I will tender with more heede
Then mine owne life. For consider how
The life of Egypt stands on his good speed:
And doubt not Madame Cæsar left vs hath
The posterne gate of Nylus free, to flie,
And India lies beyond the bounds of wrath,
And owes no homage to his Empery.
And there we shall find welcome, there remaine
Safe, till good fortune brings vs backe againe.
Cle.
But ah, I know not what presaging thought
My spirit suggests of ominous euent:
And yet perhaps my loue doth make me dote
On idle shadowes, which my feares present.
But yet the memorie of mine owne fate,
Makes me feare his and yet why should I feare?
His fortune may in time regaine his state,
And he with greater glory gouerne here.
But yet I feare the Genius of our race,
By some more powerfull spirit comes ouerthrowne,
Our blood must be extinct, in my disgrace,
And Egypt haue no more kings of their owne.
My spirit suggests of ominous euent:
And yet perhaps my loue doth make me dote
On idle shadowes, which my feares present.
But yet the memorie of mine owne fate,
Makes me feare his and yet why should I feare?
His fortune may in time regaine his state,
And he with greater glory gouerne here.
But yet I feare the Genius of our race,
By some more powerfull spirit comes ouerthrowne,
Our blood must be extinct, in my disgrace,
And Egypt haue no more kings of their owne.
Then let him stay, and let vs fall together,
If it before-decreed that we must fall:
Yet who knowes what may come, let him go thither
What Marchant in one vessell venters all?
Let vs diuide our starres, goe, goe my sonne:
Let not the fate of Egypt find you here.
Trie if so be thy Destinie can shun
The common wracke of vs, by beeing there.
But who is he found euer yet defence
Against the heauens, or hide him any where?
Then what need I to send thee so farre hence
To seeke thy death, that maiest as well die here?
And here die with thy mother, die in rest,
Not trauelling to what will come to thee:
Why should we leaue our blood vnto the East,
When Egypt may a tombe sufficient be?
If it before-decreed that we must fall:
Yet who knowes what may come, let him go thither
What Marchant in one vessell venters all?
Let vs diuide our starres, goe, goe my sonne:
Let not the fate of Egypt find you here.
The common wracke of vs, by beeing there.
But who is he found euer yet defence
Against the heauens, or hide him any where?
Then what need I to send thee so farre hence
To seeke thy death, that maiest as well die here?
And here die with thy mother, die in rest,
Not trauelling to what will come to thee:
Why should we leaue our blood vnto the East,
When Egypt may a tombe sufficient be?
O my diuided soule what shall I doe,
Whereon shall now my resolution rest?
What were I best resolue to yield vnto?
When both are bad, how shall I know the best?
Stay; I may hap to worke with Cæsar now,
That he may yield him to restore thy right.
Goe; Cæsar neuer will consent that thou
So neere in blood shalt be so great in might.
Then take him Rodon, goe my sonne, farewell.
But stay: there's something I would gladly say,
Yet nothing now. But O God speed you well,
Lest saying more, that more might make thee stay.
Yet let me speake, perhaps it is the last
That euer I shall speake to thee, my sonne,
Doe mothers vse to part in such post haste?
What must I end when I haue scarce begun?
Ah no (deare heart) tis no such slender twine
Wherewith the knot is tyde twixt me and thee:
That blood within thy vaines came out of mine,
Parting from thee, I part from part of me.
And therefore I must speake. Yet what? O sonne,
Though I haue made an end, I haue done.
Whereon shall now my resolution rest?
What were I best resolue to yield vnto?
When both are bad, how shall I know the best?
Stay; I may hap to worke with Cæsar now,
That he may yield him to restore thy right.
Goe; Cæsar neuer will consent that thou
So neere in blood shalt be so great in might.
Then take him Rodon, goe my sonne, farewell.
But stay: there's something I would gladly say,
Yet nothing now. But O God speed you well,
Lest saying more, that more might make thee stay.
Yet let me speake, perhaps it is the last
That euer I shall speake to thee, my sonne,
Doe mothers vse to part in such post haste?
What must I end when I haue scarce begun?
Ah no (deare heart) tis no such slender twine
Wherewith the knot is tyde twixt me and thee:
That blood within thy vaines came out of mine,
Parting from thee, I part from part of me.
And therefore I must speake. Yet what? O sonne,
Though I haue made an end, I haue done.
Cæs.
Deare soueraigne mother, suffer not your care
To tumult thus with th'honor of your state:
The miseries of ours no strangers are,
Nor is it new to be vnfortunate.
And this good, let your many sorrowes past
Worke on your heart t'inharden it at last.
Looke but on all the neighbour States beside,
Of Europe, Afrique, Asia, and but note
What Kings? what States? hath not the Romane pride
Ransackt, confounded, or else seruile brought?
Aod since we are so borne that by our fate,
Against the stormes we cannot now beare saile,
And that the boistrous current of their state
Will beare downe all our fortunes, and preuaile:
Let vs yet temper with the time: and thinke
The windes may change, and al these States opprest,
Colleagu'd in one, may turne againe to sincke
Their Greatnesse, who now holds them all distrest:
And I may lead their troupes, and at the walls
Of greedie Rome, reuenge the wronged blood
Of th'innocent, which now for vengeance calls,
And doe th'inthralled Prouinces this good.
And therefore my deare mother doe not leaue
To hope the best, I doubt not my returne.
I shall doe well, let nor your griefe bereaue
Your eies of seeing those comforts when they turne.
To tumult thus with th'honor of your state:
The miseries of ours no strangers are,
And this good, let your many sorrowes past
Worke on your heart t'inharden it at last.
Looke but on all the neighbour States beside,
Of Europe, Afrique, Asia, and but note
What Kings? what States? hath not the Romane pride
Ransackt, confounded, or else seruile brought?
Aod since we are so borne that by our fate,
Against the stormes we cannot now beare saile,
And that the boistrous current of their state
Will beare downe all our fortunes, and preuaile:
Let vs yet temper with the time: and thinke
The windes may change, and al these States opprest,
Colleagu'd in one, may turne againe to sincke
Their Greatnesse, who now holds them all distrest:
And I may lead their troupes, and at the walls
Of greedie Rome, reuenge the wronged blood
Of th'innocent, which now for vengeance calls,
And doe th'inthralled Prouinces this good.
And therefore my deare mother doe not leaue
To hope the best, I doubt not my returne.
I shall doe well, let nor your griefe bereaue
Your eies of seeing those comforts when they turne.
Cleop,
Well, worthy sonne, and worthily the sonne
Of such a father. And in this thou shew'st
From whence thou camst; I say no more: be gone,
Grow in thy vertue, as in years thou grow'st
Exeunt.
Cleopatra
sola.
Poore comforts can they giue, whom our distresse
Makes miserable, and like comfortlesse.
Alas, such forced cheering from our owne,
Vpon our griefes doe more affliction lay,
To thinke, that by our meanes they are vndone,
On whom we sought our glory to conuay.
Well then, here is a sad daies worke begun:
For first, betweene these armes, my Antony
Expir'd this day: and whilst I did vphold
His struggling limmes in his last extasie,
The yet vnclosed wound, which his owne sword
Had made before, burst out, imbru'd my wombe,
And here with these faire collours of my Lord
Which now I weare: I come from out a tombe,
To send away this deerest part of me
Vnto distresse, and now whilst time I haue,
I got t'interre my spouse. So shall I see
My sonne dispatcht for death, my loue t'his graue.
Makes miserable, and like comfortlesse.
Alas, such forced cheering from our owne,
Vpon our griefes doe more affliction lay,
To thinke, that by our meanes they are vndone,
On whom we sought our glory to conuay.
For first, betweene these armes, my Antony
Expir'd this day: and whilst I did vphold
His struggling limmes in his last extasie,
The yet vnclosed wound, which his owne sword
Had made before, burst out, imbru'd my wombe,
And here with these faire collours of my Lord
Which now I weare: I come from out a tombe,
To send away this deerest part of me
Vnto distresse, and now whilst time I haue,
I got t'interre my spouse. So shall I see
My sonne dispatcht for death, my loue t'his graue.
Exit.
| The Tragedie of Cleopatra | |