 | Gloriana, or The Court of Augustus Caesar |  |
21
ACT. III.
SCENE I.
The Palace Garden.Cæsario, Araspes, Leander.
Cæs.
By all the Trophies of the Conquer'd Field,
By ev'ry vanquish'd Sword, and batter'd Shield,
He dyes, though the Auxiliar Fates shou'd stand
To fence the lifted forces of my hand;
Though bulwark'd with Rome's Hills in Tow'rs of Brass,
Yet like Laocoon's Launce my Sword shall pass
Through all:—By Heav'n to Hell he shall be thrown,
His Universal mightiness shall down.
Aras.
Your ruine must inevitable be.
Cæs.
It matters not what shall become of me.
Though all the Winds from their black corners rush,
Though Seas dash Clouds, old Rocks young Thunder crush,
Exempt from fear th'event we will attend,
And with big rays in Ports of Glory end.
If I must fall, I'le tumble with a Crown,
And grasp this Giant with me when I drown.
Lea.
But, Royal Sir, can you your Friend forget?
Can an abuse so vast, a wrong so great
Be offer'd, that your Vows you shou'd recall?
Cæs.
Smoak, vanish air!—be they forgotten all.
No, dear Marcellus, you must pardon me;
A stroak! a stab! 'tis such an injury,
Were Jove in flesh and thunder'd with a blow,
I wou'd retort it like a God below.
Aras.
E're ruine swallows you take one look more,
While yet you stand upon the beaten shore.
Lea.
Yet e're you launch behold the rolling deep,
Where danger groans, and death it self does weep.
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Hence with thy Coward counsels! fly to Caves!
I'le climb these tow'ring dangers bark the waves:
And as I ride to the kick'd Flouds I'le cry,
Bear Cæsar with his Fathers fortune high.
Why do ye ask me then, and vainly mourn?
Can words move death, or Time cariering turn?
Can human eloquence the Stars controul,
Or when their doom has damn'd it, save a Soul?
Pray to descending Storms, or mounting Fire;
Them ye may weary, me ye shall not tire.
Aras.
Since then no pray'rs can your wild fury tame,
The way least dang'rous to Revenge we'le name;
Though Cæsar from Heav'ns partial hand receive
Immediate pow'r, small vertue she did give.
Lea.
When fierce Embassadors from Parthia's King
Shew'd their huge Bows, and did long Arrows bring,
He to their threats in scornful answer laugh'd;
Yet this great Scoffer shrinks at Cupids shaft:
Still may his glutted hands more Empire have,
So he continue Love's inglorious slave.
Cæs.
What is his Mightiness by Beauty aw'd?
Is this th'Augustus so renown'd abroad,
The World's first man, and new created God?
The bright Narcissa with her Spring of charms,
'Tis true, has warm'd my heart half froze in Arms;
Her melting language strook my Winter back,
Loosn'd my Nerves, and made my heart-strings slack:
Yet were it possible that she cou'd weep
As long as I have practis'd toilsom War,
She shou'd not in her Lap my Honour keep,
Nor from its Trade my burning spirit bar.
When Conquest calls my Sword to fetch the prize,
And I stand listning to a Ladies cries,
Sighing to see the Roses pale,—O Heav'n!
O glorious War! let me be ne're forgiv'n.
Aras.
There is a Bower, the mystick seat of Love,
Where death stands Centinel before the Grove;
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And suffer none but, Cæsar to pass by:
There his loose heart does in full Pastures graze,
And various Shes with awe upon him gaze.
Lea.
Like Heav'ns proud King follow'd by Deities,
The Tyrant walks with shinings through the Trees;
His brow dilates, and his purs'd lips awhile
Forget their angry use, and gravely smile,
To see officious Beauties charm his cares,
Like Nights black locks all powderd o're with Stars.
Aras.
There your revenge, if vengeance urge you still,
May glut your appetite, and drink her fill.
I have observ'd, and can your fury guide,
To a slight-guarded Gate oth' Tiber side,
Watch'd by some drowsie Slaves, not more then we,
Whom having kill'd, you may have passage free.
Cæs.
Methinks already thou hast talk'd 'em dead,
And I am o're the fatal Barriers fled,
Like Perseus mounted on a Stead of Air,
Beating the Lists to find the Monster there.
Lea.
There you may take him swoln with drunken joy,
And the Crown'd brute with a full stroak destroy:
Behold him sporting on spread Memphian spoils,
In Mantles wrap'd that breath rich od'rous oils,
Like a gay Snake basking in Sunny fields,
Embrac'd by her who ripest pleasure yields.
Cæs.
Be gone, now instantly let's post away,
The black revenging minutes will not stay;
As the half-god Augæan Stables clear'd,
I'le purge these Gardens with his bloud besmear'd.
Slow till the deed be done move the wing'd hours,
I'le do't though Dragons guard the golden Bowers.
Exeunt.
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SCENE 2.
The Bower of Gloriana.SONG.
1.
Ah the charms of a Beauty disdainfull and fair,How she blasts all my joys when she bids me despair:
Forgetting my State, when I sigh and lye down,
And cast at her feet both Scepter and Crown,
She passes regardless, and says a young Swain,
Before an old Monarch, her love should obtain.
2.
Remember, Fair Nymph, my Grandfather Jove,That rev'rend old God always made the best Love:
So fiercely he mov'd with a manner Divine,
That he melted his way, or blew up the Mine.
Your scorn of my age therefore cease to pursue,
And think what a loving old Cæsar can do.
Augustus, Gloriana.
Aug.
From golden weights, high cares, Imperial strife,
From Storms of State, and Hurricans of life,
To the green Palace of the peacefull Grove
To Gloriana's Bower, the Throne of Love,
I come with all the violence of mind,
The philters of Court-witchcraft to unbind:
Thy heav'nly voice is sure the noblest Spell,
And thy eyes charms all Magick else excell.
Glor.
Ye Authors of all sway, for what dark end
To one so frail did you such pow'r commend?
He reels on such excessive height, he stands
And drops his Scepter from his shaking hands.
Aug.
No matter, Gloriana, let it be,
Who wou'd not leave a Diadem for thee?
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Thy lips approach'd, where is the tast of pow'r?
Love is all tast, relish, and vital good,
Spirits it gives that o're life's channel brood,
And like Wine-sparks dance through the brimming blood.
Each smile of thine drives from my age a day,
One balmy kiss wou'd take a year away;
But oh the rest wou'd give me Youth again,
Like an old Snake wou'd cause me cast my skin.
Slacken my sinues, make me swiftly move,
As Mercury descending from above,
Boldly as Mars, and lustily as Jove.
Glor.
Is this the man of such renown in Wars,
First upon Earth, and numbred with the Stars?
Wake from thy sleep of death, dread Father, wake,
Pompey arise, the reins of Empire take;
Down let this driver from his Throne be hurl'd,
Or place me on the brow of the steep World,
That Nations driv'n by me may thunder on,
And at my nod millions of Swords be drawn,
Brandish'd with flashing death by mighty men,
And when I give the word be sheath'd again.
Aug.
They shall, they shall, ambitious lovely Maid!
I'le teach thy gentle arms the Warriour's trade,
Bind thy soft body fast with bands of Steel,
And double-darted death thy foes shall kill.
New arts that shall the old in Arms surprize,
To see thy Launce as fatal as thy eyes.
Cæsar shall guard thee all the day in sight,
And compass thee about with lifted Shields,
So thou vouchsafe to dress those wounds at night
Which he receiv'd for thee in fighting Fields.
Glo.
Much you depend upon Tyrannick pride,
Or think this breast incapable of scorn,
Or that I never heard you had a Bride,
Or you forget I am of Pompey born;
If this your guilty mind consider'd, how
Dare you approach me in my Brother's gore,
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When your hot lust the Sister wou'd devour?
Aug.
Talk not of that high bloud from which you came,
Nor how your Brothers wrongs your scorn enflame;
Heav'n the young Pompey's honours did disperse,
And now alone I sway the Universe:
Consider this, and with the Time comply.
Glo.
I have consider'd, and resolve to dye.
Compleat your crimes, for what can I expect
From rage which through the heart of Tully past,
Tully who did with God-like wit protect
Thy cursed youth, to be betray'd at last.
Go on, thou black Usurper! stop more breath,
Encrease thy purples, fill thy Throne with death;
Still may new falshood add to former guilt,
And the dear bloud of Rome's best Sons be spilt;
And may thy cruelties alone do more,
Than all the curs'd Triumvirate before.
Aug.
Hold, Princess, hold! provoke me not too far,
None ever said thus much and liv'd; beware,
Thou'rt in my reach, no more my fetters shake,
My rage yet sleeps, which Lion-like may wake.
My heart which as some stubborn fiery Steed,
Grew up unback'd, and did at random feed,
When Love approach'd like you, did not disdain
So fair a Rider, yielding to the rein,
Now gently moves, except his freedom's barr'd;
But if you spur him much, and curb him hard,
Angry to be so indiscreetly rode,
He springs and bounds beneath the mounted God.
Glo.
If thy low fawning Love I scorn'd before,
I now disdain thy menac'd Fury more;
Death is the utmost that thy rage can do,
And that I'le ev'ry day provoke thee to.
Aug.
Wilt thou? Ha! dar'st thou? sharp provoking Fair!
Once more let me intreat thee do not dare,
Dare like a foolish Fly, whose vexing wings
Urge the slow Flame to burn her as she sings.
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But as thy Lord, and one that will command;
As I am Master of the World, I'le be,
Spight of thy scorn, the Master too of thee.
Glo.
Master oth' World! Indeed your Title's clear
When you amongst the Syrian Boys appear,
Contending as for Triumphs all the day,
To win their Nutts and Bounding-stones at play.
Such Conquests with such honourable pain
Who but the Master of the World cou'd gain?
Was it for this thou didst all Nations quell,
And by thy Arms the noble Brutus fell?
You the Earth's God? This your Cæsarian pride?
Fly, fly, thy shame from human knowledge hide;
To some By-path from all observance stray,
And far from Roads of Glory take your way.
Aug.
Now Rider Love! my life on't down a' goes;
Look to't, I say, thy trembling knees keep close;
Close to my side like destiny now sit,
Fixt in my heart-strings firmly plant thy feet,
For in my Teeth I've got th'ungrateful bit.
There, there, with that last heave I threw him down,
And now I thank my Stars my heart's my own.
Beauty, thou once m'enlightner bright and kind,
For ever set, I'le scourge thee from my mind
Like day, nor shalt thou leave one streak behind:
Thy lips, thy tongue, thy eyes have now no charms;
My soul b' ambition wak'd to old alarms,
Starts up and listens to the clanck of Arms.
Glo.
Without this circumstance my death ordain.
Aug.
No, that wou'd be to put thee out of pain:
As haughty Vertue's sharpest punishment,
Thou shalt live still, but not live innocent.
Glo.
Not innocent! I scorn thy impious breath,
I'le ope' ten thousand doors to let in death.
Aug.
Not one, I'le shut up all, and set strict guard,
There's not a Wicket shall be left unbarr'd;
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Or Death with his least finger touch thee dead.
Glo.
Still rack thy cruel heart and cursed brain,
Yet after all thy wish thou shalt not gain;
Burst with thy malice, for I will not live,
My life shall starve that honour may survive.
Aug.
Nor that, for e're to morrow's Sun appear,
Thy Virgin-pride shall vanish into air.
Starve, Gloriana, in a Monarch's bed!
By Heav'n thou shalt to surfeiting be fed.
Glo.
Still perjur'd, since it shall not, cannot be
So rich a purchase shou'd be reap'd by thee;
For though I shou'd consent to have it sold,
Thou couldst not buy, thou art so wretched old.
Aug.
If bliss anon wou'd not less fiercely flow,
By all my hopes I wou'd enjoy thee now:
But more delib'rate pleasure is decreed,
Ile come by Moon-light which my flame shall feed,
Like Tarquin pale resolv'd upon the deed.
O Gloriana! e're the Lark has sung
Her morning Anthem, thou shalt say I'm young;
Love through my life an equal pace has run,
Swift near the Goal as where it first begun:
I keep my course like the old Lord of Day,
On my red cheeks the silver Tresses play,
I shout and drive and never feel decay.
Exit.
Glo.
I thank thee, Heav'n, that thou dost me ordain
For woes no other woman cou'd sustain.
Woman! what man such Tempests cou'd outwear?
Yet like a rock both Sea and Winds I'le dare.
Enter Cæsario, driving in the Captain.
Cæs.
So sturdy, Sir, you that wou'd take my Sword?
'Tis for you, there; now bear it to your Lord.
[The Captain falls.
Cæsar come forth, thou Female-god appear,
Not Plangus but Cæsario waits thee here,
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Thou hear'st, but to approach me dost not dare.
In what dark covert are thy Glories laid,
Or do they sleep beneath some Laurel shade?
Rock'd on thy Mistress lap, whose knitting hands
Lock up thy Captive cares in downy bands.
Wake, wake, by Heav'n my wrath thou shalt not shun,
Though thou beneath her Robes for shelter run.
Glo.
What art that wander'st in this fatal Wood,
Whose thirsty Sword seeks for Majestick blood?
Was it a borrow'd Title, or true name
Thou didst assume, whose eyes quick rouling flame,
Glows with Ambition, Pride, Revenge and Fame?
Cæs.
Ha!—what I was you heard me speak but now;
I was I know not what, and am I know not how.
But speak and I'le consider what to say,
Ive hunted hard and now my heart's at Bay.
Glo.
If you the Son of Divine Julius are,
How durst you in Augustus Court appear?
No breast but yours such rashness ever knew,
But to approach him here, and singly too,
Nought but distraction or despair would do.
'Tis certain death.
Cæs.
That certain death is past,
And I upon the blessed shore am cast:
I track'd a Fiend I thought by Furies driv'n,
I sought for Hell, but stumbled upon Heav'n.
You are—
Glo.
A woman.
Cæs.
Angels shou'd speak true,
But sure so bright a flow'r on Earth ne're grew:
Her lips, her cheeks must more than Roses be;
What Stars her eyes, what moving Majesty?
So sweet and so imperious too they move,
Sparkling with beauty, glitt'ring all with Love:
30
Lea.
Hast, or the Emp'ror will evade the toil;
He's almost out of sight, hast to the spoil.
Cæs.
Not Julia's such when all her gemms she wears,
Nor sad Narcissa more adorn'd with tears;
Yield Beauties yield, or shun this dazling eye,
Since those that stay will soon her Victims lye,
Like Autumn-leaves, turn yellow all and dye.
Glo.
Just Heav'n does sure this God-like man provide,
To bear me from the Tyrants lust and pride.
Beauty, if thou didst ever, aid me now,
That I may make this haughty gazer bow,
This heav'nly Youth; Oh force him to adore,
To love me only, I'le ne're ask thee more.
Cæs.
Why beats my heart as I had poison ta'en?
What means my burning breast and giddy brain?
Swift thrilling cold with panick terrour flies,
And an unusual thaw dissolves my eyes;
If Love thou art, I will not take the wound,
My Armour shall thy pointed darts confound;
I'le draw 'em, if they cannot be withstood,
Though to the Feathers drinking in my blood;
Then shake 'em at her eyes with fix'd disdain,
And hurl 'em to thy Godhead back again.
Enter Araspes.
Aras.
Your vengeance must another season take.
Cæs.
Love is low play, which Warriours shou'd forsake;
Yet what a stir does this blind Gamester make?
He makes my heart rebound about my breast,
And laughs to see me tire, and cries no rest;
From side to side strikes the tormented Ball,
And with each stroke he dints the very wall.
Glo.
If you in Fields have purchas'd high renown,
Have with persisting Vertue wonders done,
And Wreaths rewards of toiling Valour won;
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Fate never did a nobler cause afford.
By all the mighty Battels you have fought,
By all the Trophies you with bloud have bought,
A Royal suff'ring Virgins wrongs redress,
And kill the Giant vice that wou'd oppress.
Cæs.
I meet the summons swift, and snatch the joy,
Kindling at death, and panting to destroy;
Another Sword like mine you'l ne're imploy.
War was my Mistress, and I lov'd her long;
She lov'd my Musick, shoutings were my Song,
And clashing Arms that eccho'd through the Plain,
Neighings of Horses, groans of dying men;
Notes which the Trump and hoarser Drum affords,
And dying sounds rising from falls of Swords.
Command dispatch, and bid your Lightning fly,
I'le flash, I'le kill, I'le conquer in your eye,
And after all here yield my breath and dye.
—O cou'd you love!
Glo.
Let Love be mention'd last,
But first to free me hence you shou'd forecast.
Cæs.
By all my love you are already past:
You are, O Heav'n! wherever you wou'd be,
And I am with you all o're extasie.
High walls and Tow'rs are levell'd where you go;
You tread on pants, and sighs about you blow,
And hearts in their own bleedings round you flow.
Aras.
If you wou'd bear her safe, hast Sir away.
Lea.
The minute's critical and will not stay.
Cæs.
Move on, and bravely let us meet our dooms,
But give me warning e're the Tyrant comes;
I'le follow slowly, and while Love is by,
The swiftest deaths and rushing fates defie.
Glo.
In all your acts such God-like manners shine,
I doubt not but your Parents are Divine;
Therefore to match you with a stock of fame,
Know from a race as high as yours I came,
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The life which you so gen'rously wou'd save.
Cæs.
Ha! now I find the cause I ne're cou'd love;
Long, long ago our hearts were pair'd above;
And my ambition joyn'd with destiny,
Oft times suggesting it cou'd never be,
That Cæsar's Son who all the World had aw'd,
Shou'd wed beneath the daughter of a God.
Exeunt.
| Gloriana, or The Court of Augustus Caesar | |