University of Virginia Library

ACTVS III.

Seleucus.
Rodon.
Friend Rodon? neuer in a better hower
Could I haue met a friend then now I doe,
Hauing affliction in the greatest power
Vpon my soule, and none to tell it to.
For tis some ease our sorrowes to reueale,
If they to whom we shall impart our woes,
Seeme but to feele a part of what we feele,
And meete vs with a sigh but at a close.

Rod.
And neuer friend Seleucus found'st thou one,
That better could beare such a part with thee,
Who by his owne knowes others care (to mone,
And can in like accord of griefe agree.
And therefore tell th'oppression of thy heart,
Tell to an eare prepar'd and tun'd to care,
And I will likewise vnto thee impart
As sad a tale as what thou shalt declare.
So shall we both our mournefull plaints combine
I will lament thy state, thou pitty mine.



Sel.
Well then thou know'st how I haue liu'd in grace
With Cleopatra, and esteem'd in Court
As one of Councell, and of worthy place,
And euer held my credit in that sort,
Till now, in this late shifting of our state,
Whe thinking to haue vs'd a meane to clime,
And fled the wretched, flowne vnto the great,
Following the fortune of the present time;
I come to be disgrac'd and ruin'd cleane.
For hauing all the secrets of the Queene
Reueal'd to Cæsar, to haue fauour wonne
My treachery hath purchas'st due disgrace,
My falshood's loath'd, and not without great reason,
For Princes though they get, yet in this case,
They hate the traytor, though they loue treason.
For how could he imagine I could be
Entire to him, beeing false vnto mine owne?
And false to such a worthy Queene as shee
As had me rais'd, by whome my state was growne.
He saw t'was not for zeale to him I bare,
But for base feare, and mine estate to settle,
Weaknes is false, and faith in cowards rare,
Feare finds out shifts, timiditie is subtle.
And therefore skorn'd of him, skorn'd of mine owne,
Hatefull to all that looke into my state:
Despis'd Seleucus now is onely growne
The marke of infamie, that's pointed at.

Rod.
Tis much thou saist, and too too much to feele,
And I doe pittie and lament thy fall:
But yet all this which thou do'st here reueale,
Compar'd with mine, will make thine seem but smal,
Although my fault be in the selfe-same kind,
Yet in degree far greater, far more hatefull.
Mine sprung of mischiefe, thine from feeble minde,
Mine stain'd with blood, thou onely but vngratefull.


For Cleopatra did commit to me
The best and dearest treasure of her blood,
Her sonne Cesario, with a hope to free
Him, from the danger wherein Egypt stood:
And chard'd my faith, that I should safely guide,
And close to India should conuey him hence:
Which faith, I most vnkindly falsifi'd,
And with my faith and conscience did dispence.
For skarce were we arriu'd vnto the shore,
But Cæsar hauing knowledge of our way,
Had sent an agent thither sent before,
To labour me Cesaria to betray,
Who with rewards and promises so large,
Assail'd me then, that I grew soone content,
And backe againe did reconuey my charge,
Pretending that Octauius for him sent.
To make him king of Egypt presently,
And in their hands haue left him now to die.

Sel.
But how hath Cesar since rewarded thee?

Rod.
As he hath thee; and I expect the same
As Theodorus had to fall to me.
And with as great extremitie of shame,
For Theodorus when he had betraid
The yong Antillus sonne of Antony,
And at his death from off his necke, conuey'd
A iewell: which being askt, he did deny:
Cæsar occasion tooke to hang him streight.
Such instruments with Princes liue not long:
Though they must vse those actors of deceit,
Yet still their sight, seemes to obraid their wrong:
And therefore they must needs this danger run,
And in the net of their owne guile be caught,
They may not liue to brag what they haue done,
For what is done is not the Princes fault.
But here comes Cleopatra wofull Queene,


And our shame will not that we should be seene.

Exeunt.

SCENA. II.

Cleopatra.
Charmion. Eras Diomedes.
Cleopatra reading Dolabella's letter
What hath my face yet power to win a louer,
Can this torne remnant serue to grace me so
That it can Cæsars secret plots discouer
What he intends with me and mine to doe?
Why then poore beauty thou hast done thy last,
And best good seruice thou couldst euer doe me,
For now the time of death reueald thou hast,
Which in my life didst serue but to vndoe me.
Here Dolabella far forsooth in loue,
Writes now that Cæsar meanes forthwith to send
Both me and mine, the aire of Rome to prooue,
There his triumphant Chariot to attend.
I thanke the man, both for his loue, and letter,
The one comes fit to warne me thus before,
But for the other, I must die his debtor,
For Cleopatra now can loue no more.
Come Diomedes, thou who hast bin one,
In all my fortunes, and art still all one,
Whom the amazing ruine of my fall,
Neuer deterd to leaue calamitie,
As did those other smooth State-pleasures all,
Who followed but my fortune, and not me.
Tis thou must doe a seruice for thy Queene,
Wherein thy loyaltie must worke her best.
Thy honest care and dutie shall be seene,
Performing this, more then in all the rest.


Thou must seeke out with all thy industrie,
Two Aspicks, and conuey them close to me.
I haue a worke to doe with them in hand,
Enquire not what, for thou shalt soone see what,
If th'heauens doe not my designes withstand,
But doe the charge, and let me shift for that.

Diom.
I who am sworne of the societie
Of death, and haue indur'd the worst of ill,
Prepar'd for all euents, must not deny
What you command me, come there what there will.
And I shall vse the aptest skill I may
To cloake my worke and long I will not stay.

Exit.
Cleop.
But hauing leaue I must goe take my leaue
And last farewell of my dead Antony,
Whose dearely honord tombe must here receiue
This sacrifice, the last before I die.
Cleopatra at the tombe of Antonius.
O sacred euer memorable stone,
Thou hast without my teares, within my flame,
Receiue th'oblation of the wofulst mone.
That euer yet from sad affliction came.
And you deare reliques of my Lord and loue,
Most precious parcels of the worthiest liuer,
O let no impious hand dare to remooue
You out from hence, but rest you here for euer.
Let Egypt now giue peace vnto you dead,
Who liuing, gaue you trouble and turmoyle,
Sleepe quiet in this euerlasting bed,
In forraine land preferd before your soyle.
And O if that the spirits of men remaine
After their bodies, and doe neuer die:
Then heare thy ghost, thy captiue spouse complaine,
And be attentive to her miserie.
But if that laboursome mortalitie,


Found this sweete error onely to confine
The curious search of idle vanitie,
That would the depth of darknes vndermine
Or else to giue a rest vnto the thought
Of wretched man, with th'aftercomming ioy
Of those conceiued fields, whereon we dote,
To pacifie the present worlds annoy
Then why doe I complaine me to the ayre?
But tis not so, my Antony doth heare:
His euer liuing Ghost attends my prayer,
And I doe know his houering spirit is neere.
And I will speake and pray, and mourne to thee,
O pure immortall soule, that deign'st to heare:
I feele thou answerst my credulitie.
With touch of comfort, finding none else where,
Thou knowst these hands intomb'd thee here of late,
Free and inforc'd, which now must seruile be,
Reseru'd for bands to grace proud Cæsars state,
Who seeke in me to triumph ouer thee.
O if in life we could not seuer'd be,
Shall death diuide our bodies now asunder?
Must thine in Egypt, mine in Italy,
Be made the monuments of fortunes wonder?
If any powers be there whereas thou art,
Since our owne countrey gods betraies our cause.
O worke they may their gracious help impart,
To saue thy wofull wife from such disgrace.
Doe not permit she would in triumph shew
The blush of her reproch, ioynd with thy shame,
But rather let that hatefull tyrant know,
That thou and I had power t'auoid the same.
But what doe I spend breath and idle winde,
In vaine inuoking, a conceiued aide,
Why doe I not my selfe occasion find,
To breake these bounds, wherein my selfe am staid?


Words are for them that can complaine and liue,
Whose melting hearts compos'd of baser frame,
Can to their sorrowes time and leisure giue,
But Cleopatra must not doe the same.
No Antony, thy loue requireth more,
A lingring death with thee deserues no merit
I must my selfe force open wide a dore
To let out life, and to vnhouse my spirit.
These hands must breake the prison of my soule,
To come to thee, there to inioy like state,
As doth the long pent solitary foule,
That hath escapt her cage, and found her mate.
This sacrifice, to sacrifice my life,
Is that true incense that my loue beseemes,
These rites may serue a life-desiring wife,
Who doing them, t'haue done sufficient deemes.
My heart-bloud should the purple flowers haue been
Which here vpon thy tombe to thee are offred,
No smoake but my last gaspe should here bin seene,
And this it had bin too, had I bin suffred.
But what haue I, saue onely these bare hands,
And these weake fingers are not yron-pointed,
They cannot pierce the flesh that them withstands,
And I of all meanes else am disappointed.
But yet I must away, and meanes seeke how
To come vnto thee, and to vnion vs,
O death art thou art so hard to come by now,
That we must pray, intreat, and seeke thee thus?
But I will find, where euer thou doest lie,
For who can stay a mind resolu'd to die.
And now I come to worke th'effect indeed,
I neuer will send more complaints to thee,
I bring my soule, my selfe, and that with speed,
My selfe will bring my soule to Antony.
Come, goe my maides, my fortunes sole attenders,


That minister to misery and sorrow,
Your mistresse you vnto your freedome renders,
And will discharge your charge, yet ere to morrow.

Eras.
Good madame if that worthy heart you beare
Doe hold it fit; it were a sinne in vs
To contradict your will: but yet we feare
The world will censure that your doing thus,
Did issue rather out of your despaire
Then resolution, and thereby you loose
Much of your glory, which would be more faire
In suffring, then escaping thus your foes.
For when Pandora brought the boxe from heauen
Of all the good and ill that men befall,
And them immixt vnto the world had giuen,
Hope in the bottome lay, quite vnder all.
To shew that we must still vnto the last
Attend our fortune, for no doubt there may
Euen at the bottome of afflictions past
Be found some happier turne if we but stay.

Cl.
Eras, that hope is honors enemie,
A traytor vnto worth, lies on the ground,
In the base bottome of seruilitie:
The beggars wealth a treasure neuer found,
The dreame of them that wake, a ghost of th'ayre,
That leads men out of knowledge to their graues,
A spirit of grosser substance then despaire,
And let them Eras hope, that can be slaues.
And now I am but onely to attend
My mans returne, that brings me my dispatch,
God grant his cunning sort to happy end,
And that his skill may well beguile my watch
So shall I shun disgrace, laeue to be sorry,
Flye to my loue, scape my foe, free my soule,
So shall I act the last of life with glory,
Die like a Queen, & rest without controule.

Exeunt.


SCENA III.

Cæsario
, with a Guard conueying him to Execution.
Now gentle Guard, let me in curtesie
Best me a little here, and ease my bands
You shall not neede to hold me for your eye
May now as well secure you as your hands.

Gu.
Doe, take your ease Cæsario, but not long,
We haue a charge, which we must needs performe.

Ces.
Loe here brought back, by subtile traine to death,
Betraid by Tutors faith, or traitors rather,
My fault, my bloud, and mine offence my birth,
For being the sonne of such a mighty father.
I now am made th'oblation for his feares,
Who doubts the poore reuenge these hands may do him,
Respecting neither bloud, nor youth nor yeeres,
Or how small safetie can my death be to him.
And is this all the good of being borne great?
Then wretched greatnesse golden misery,
Pompous distresse, glittering calamitie.
Is it for this th'ambitious fathers sweat
To purchase blood and death, for them and theirs:
In this th'inheritance that glories get,
To leaue th'estate of ruine to their heires?
Then how much better had it been for me,
From low descent, deriu'd from humble birth,
T'haue eate the sweet-sowre bread of pouertie,
And drunke of Nylus streames, in Nylus earth?
Vnder the couering of some quiet cottage,
Free from the wrath of heauen, secure in mind,


Vntoucht, when proud attempts of Princes dotage,
Imbroyle the world, and ruinate mankind,
So had he not impeach'd their high condition,
Who must haue all things cleere, and al made plaine
Betweene them, and the marke of their ambition,
That nothing let the prospect of their raigne:
Where nothing stands, that stands not in submission,
Whose greatnesse must all in it selfe containe.
Kings will alone, competitors must downe,
Neere death he stands, who stands too neere a crown
Such is my case, Augustus will haue all,
My blood must seale th'assurance of his state,
Yet ah weake state, which blood assure him shall,
Whose wrongfull shedding, gods and men doe hate.
Iniustice cannot scape and flourish still,
Though men doe not reuenge it, th'heauens will.
And he that thus doth seeke with bloudy hand,
T'extinguish th'ofspring of anothers race,
May finde the heauens, his vowes so to withstand,
That others may depriue him in like case.
When he shall see his proud contentious bed
Yeilding him none of his that may inherit,
Subuert his blood, place others in their steed,
To pay this his iniustice, her due merit,
If it be true, (as who can that deny
Which sacred Priests of Memphis, doe foresay,)
Some of the ofspring yet of Antony,
Shall all the rule of this whole Empire sway
And then Augustus what is it thou gainest
By poore Antillus blood, and this of mine?
Nothing but this, thy victory thou stainest,
And pulst the wrath of heauen on thee and thine.
In vaine doth man contend against the starres,
For what he seekes to make, his wisedome mars.
But in the meane time, he whom fates reserue,


The bloody sacrifices of ambition,
We feele the smart, what euer they deserue,
And we endure the heauy times condition,
The iustice of the heauens reuenging thus,
Doth onely satisfie it selfe not vs.
But yet Cæsario thou must die content,
God will reuenge, and men bewaile the innocent.
Well now alone, I rested haue ynow,
Performe the charge, my friends, you haue to doe.

Exeunt.
CHORVS.
Misterious Egypt, wonder breeder,
Strict Religions strange obseruer,
State-order zeale the best rule-keeper,
Fostring still in temp'rate feruor:
O how cam'st thou to lose so wholy,
All religion, law, and order?
And thus become the most vnholy
Of all Lands, that Nylus border?
How could confus'd Disorder enter
Where sterne Law sate so seuerely?
How durst weake lust and riot venter,
Th'eye of iustice looking neerely?
Could not those meanes that made thee great,
Be still the meanes to keepe thy state?
Ah no, the course of things requireth
Change and alteration euer:
That staid continuance man desireth,
Th'vnconstant world yeildeth neuer.


We in our councels must be blinded,
and not see what doth import vs:
And oftentimes the thing least minded,
is the thing that most must hurt vs.
Yet they that haue the sterne in guiding,
tis their fault that should preuent it,
Who when they see their country sliding,
for their priuate are coutented.
We imitate the greater powers,
The Princes manners fashion ours
Th'example of their light regarding,
vulgar loosenesse much incenses:
Vice vncontroul'd, growes wide inlarging,
Kings small faults be great offences.
And this hath set the window open
vnto licence, lust, and riot:
This wry confusion first found broken,
whereby entred our disquiet,
Those lawes that old Sesostris founded,
and the Ptolomies obserued,
Hereby first came to be confounded.
which our state so long preserued.
The wanton luxurie of Court,
Did forme the people of like sort.
For all (respecting priuate pleasure,)
vniuersally consenting
To abuse their time, their treasure,
in their owne delights contenting:
And future dangers nought respecting,
whereby, (O how easie matter
Made this so generall neglecting,
confus'd weaknesse to discatter?)
Cæsar found th'effect true tried,


in his easie entrance making.
Who at the sight of armes, discried
all our people, all forsaking.
For riot (worse then warre) so sore
Had wasted all our strength before.
And thus is Egypt seruile rendred
to the insolent destroyer:
And all their sumptuous treasure tendred,
all her wealth that did betray her.
Which poyson (O if heaueu be rightfull,)
may so farre infect their sences,
That Egypts pleasures so delightfull.
may breed them the like offences.
And Romans learne our way of weakenesse,
be instructed in our vices:
That our spoyles may spoyle your greatnesse,
ouercome with our deuises.
Fill full your hands, and carry home
Enough from vs to ruine Rome.