 | The Tragedy of Sertorius |  |
SCENE I.
SERTORIUS.Cease, you Celestial Pow'rs, and give that ease,
Which to obtain, I, with repeated Pray'rs,
The bloud of Hecatombs, and Incense smoke,
So oft have fill'd your Heav'ns; and bless the Man
Which, from his Infancy to Autumn years,
Subject to every blast, has known the Fate
Of greatness, or abjected Poverty.
Oh, Marius, through what paths Ambition led!
But thou'rt no more; and Hell has left behind
A Janus Fury, who, with Sword and Pen,
Or Stabs, or to enevitable Fate thrusts on,
Doom'd by Proscription, numbers to attend
On gastly Death: while Slaughter, big with blood,
In Sanguine hue, and a Tyrannick pace,
Sweeps, like a Plague; and makes Rome's Senate look
Like Sons of Earth, scap'd from Deucalion's flood.
Oh, when I call to mind Rome's base neglect,
Tho' with this light I bought their Suffrages,
Dam'd up for ever in the Marsian War;
When Parents, with distended arms, lift up
Their crying Infants, while the ag'd bestrid
The tops of Houses, fill'd the Heav'n with Shouts,
The plaudits of my Triumphs; yet gave way
2
Deny'd the Tribuneship, and Exile made:
Yet, not content with miseries, they hurle
Repeated Plagues, and hunt me like a Beast.
Yet, Gods, be kind, and Sylla's brood shall know,
He that, with Patience, can endure like Me,
May weather out the Storm, and Victim make
The over-daring Fool, who hastes to meet
(In Pompey) certain Fate; or Knowledge bought
At dear expence. Down, you rebellious wrongs;
Incite me not to acts, that misbecome
A Roman mind to bear: Take flight, my Soul,
Into a Sphere like thy Essential make;
That I may scatter into open Air
The envious mischiefs which inviron me.
| The Tragedy of Sertorius | |