University of Virginia Library

ACT. IV.

SCEN. I.

Cassius
Solus.
I find my self o'r-pow'r'd, my Reason gon,
The Magic of the Soul has left its sound;
Bereav'd of all the noble Roman, now
I walk, and breath pollution to the Air;
Such as might well infect the Antidote:
But like that Roman, viewing round his Fate,
Suddenly down the dreadful Gemonies,
Preventing the defame of common hands,
Met boldly with his Fate, and brave in death;
Thou, Cassius, must at once, (hard Fortune thine!)
Be thy Accuser, Judg, and Murderer,
In death to wipe the scandal from thy Fame:
That, when thy Earthly part's sublim'd with Fire,
Thy Spirit rarify'd, may see thy Urn
Water'd with tears, and hear thy story told.

SCEN. II.

Terentia, Cassius.
Ter.
Trust me, thou Roman, I lament thy Fate,
Which hurries thee, in paths obscure to us,
Thus to consume: thou seem'st a walking Ghost,
And, like a Spirit, covet'st lonely Shades;
There breath'st complaints; while thy lamenting Friends
Beg, and intreat thou would'st admit of cure:
With folded arms, and looks which shoot themselves
Into the Earth, thou sigh'st denyal out.
Hither I've trac'd thee, and resolve to know
If there be Pow'r in Friendship; or the Name
But Fiction.

Cass.
Oh, thou excellently Fair!
Yet from that excellence my griefs proceed.
Did I not feel my Fate grasp fast my life;
Dumb to my woes, as they by Nature made,
I'd sink into my Urn.

Ter.
Bless me, you Pow'rs!
What have I done? what horrid crime committed,
To make a Friend wither, with thought, to shade;
The gift of Gods in life? Oh, Cassius, tell;
That, with the hast of Penitents, I fly
Unto the pitying Gods, which hover o'r
Their holy Mansions: say what Sacrifice,
What Vows, what Incense may atone their Ire;
For I shall never tast of peace or rest
Till I, the Cause, have quieted thy grief.

Cass.
White, as the thought of Innocence, thou art;
Pure, like the first Creation, from all guilt;
That takes it source from the internal frame:
Yet, tho attended, circled round with gifts,
The only Jewel of Heav'ns Tresury,
Such is the violence of head-strong Fate,
I covet—(Oh, how th'unwilling Soul,
Just on the brink of ruin, all confus'd,
Casts a sad look upon her long-lov'd seat,
E're for Immortal change she takes her flight!)

Ter.
Oh, free me, Cassius, from these doubts and fears,
Which make a Winter's storm within my bloud.
Did I not call upon Sertorius love
To raise my Soul, deprest with such a weight,
Sure I should sink in Sorrow's vast Abyss,

Cass.
You have commanded, and I will obey:
Free you from this; but fear a second storm,
More dreadful, and more just. You call'd on Love!
That raises you; but sinks me down to Hell:
For what, but Love, could thus effect a change;
Transform me from the being that I had?

Ter.
I am amaz'd! what is't that Cassius means?

Cass.
But, oh! when, naming Love, I view that face,
Like him who, gazing on the works of Heav'n,
Lost life in admiration of the Object!
Pity me, Fair; tho justly you condemn:
And, when I say 'tis you that I adore,
For you thus wither,—and thus lose my life;
[Stabs himself.
Say, in my death, That Honor to my Friend
Held a contest with Love, and master'd it.

Ter.
Help, help the wretched; who, distract with pain,
Has sheath'd his killing Dagger in his brest.
Enter her Women.
Oh, run, Camilla; call the Sons of Art,
To stay this deluge; in which Life does hast
To find a passage.

Cass.
In vain is human help.
Let me, in death, Adore; and shoot my Soul,
Viewing thy face, into Elizium shades.
Forgive the boldness of my love: tho Death
Coms swiftly on; yet, ere the latest blast,
Let me intreat you'l to my memory
(How-e're you hate me now) be pitiful.

SCEN. III.

Sertorius, Terentia, Cassius.
Sert.
Who was't that call'd for help?—Ha! 'tis my self,
To bear with patience such a sight as this!
Gods, you're unkind; more cruel, than she's false!
By Heav'n, She weeps, and baths him with her tears!
Oh, the inconstancy of all the Sex;
That damns the living, and torments the dead!
I will retire from hence; and wish I could
Forget I e're had being.

Ter.
Oh, my Lord,
Stay you so long without a helping hand?

Sert.
Ha! by Heav'n, she'd make a Property of me!
Death, Hell, and Furies, 'tis too much to bear.

Ter.
See here, my Lord, the noble Cassius slain.

Sert.
What said'st thou? Cassius dying? How the word
Has calm'd the passion, at the name of Friend!
So the Earth's vapors, when the Sun appears,
Dissolve to Dew. Oh, Cassius! Oh, my Friend!
Tell me, how came this wound imprinted here?

Cass.
Give me your hand; and swear forgiveness to me.

Sert.
By all the Gods, I do.

Cass.
Then I shall dy
Freed of the bitter anguish of the mind.
I have offended, but it was in thought;
'Twas the ill bloud rebell'd within my Veins:
But from the sluces I have loos'd the slave,
And dy a Roman; yet my Rebel eyes
Will fix upon the Object of my Soul,
Now plunging o'r the mighty Main of Death.

Dyes.
Sert.
Forbear, thou saucy Tyrant, for a while;
If thou want'st Subjects for thy eager maw,
I'll give thee thousands, spare me but this one.
He's gon, he's gon; the fleeting Soul has past
The bounds of life! Night, out of Chaos take
The blackest of thy Wardrobe, thrust back day,
That all the World may mourn in endless Darkness.
Weep on, Terentia: for thy tears, like Balm,
Will please his Manes, and allay my grief.
Take up the Body, and erect a Pile
Great as a Pyramid: from the blest, look down,
And see thy last of Rites. Oh, might there rise
Another Phœnix from the Sacrifice.

[Exeunt.

SCEN. IV.

Fulvia, Perpenna.
Ful.
The angry Fates now croud to serve our will;
Lest they should want in mischief, as in pow'r:
Ligurius, Decius, are my Proselytes,
Greedily swallow up the gilded bait,
And hurry on to ruin. But, I fear,
Bebricius Friendship will admit no change
For, tho he loves, and to the height of passion,
In his rough Soul such Honor is imprest,
He'l sooner turn Apostate unto Love
Than derogate from him who fills his praise.

Perp.
Crassus, Norbanus, and Tribunius com;
With many more inclin'd unto our Faction.
The lightest Souls thou hast already fir'd,
While the consid'ering Fools are catch'd by me:
Norbanus honor, nor the Tribuneship
Which Crassus has, nor fam'd Tribunius charge,
Are strong enough against th'assaults I make.

Ful.
What doom you of Bebricius?

Perp.
He must dy.

Ful.
Then, let him dy: but shall he fall, before
The Tragedy intended?

Perp.
Yes, he must:
Lest he betray us to that Fiend Sertorius.

Ful.
I think, 'twere better that you let him fall
Associate with the mighty Deity
He Idolizes: let 'em mount together;
And, erring from the slipp'ry paths of Heav'n,
Sink headlong down, into eternal Night.

Perp.
Retire, my Fair, and invocate of Chance
To cease the motion of her giddy Wheel,
Till I have fixt the Engins of his Fate.
[Exit. Fulvia.
Answer me, Jove, in Thunder, if that man
To greatness born, by interposing Fate
Headlong flung-down th'aspiring Precipice,
Yet lab'ring to regain the mighty top,
Views round the spacious Empire of his toil;
Can any guile or fraud asperse his fame
Who makes his opposite his step to mount?
If thou darst answer me, I wil speak aloud
That Romulus, the man thou snatch'd from Earth
To Deify, forgetting tyes of bloud,
Remov'd his Brother, to secure his Rule.
I dare as much, and court thee in my deeds,
Tho Ill, yet great, and offer 'em to thee;
For thou, with thoughts Olympic fir'st the brave,
Lifts 'em from Earth into the middle sky,
And points 'em out the Regions of the World:
'Tis thee I invocate; and wish I could
(As once unto Lycaon's House thou did'st)
Turn all into a Flame, and Nature change.

Enter a Servant.
Serv.
Sir, there are many Gentlemen without
That wait admittance.

Perp.
Go, conduct 'em in:
They're the Conspirators.

Exit. Servant.

SCEN. V.

Crassus, Ligurius, Norbanus, Decius, Tribunius; to Perpenna.
Trib.
Hail, noble Roman!

Crass.
Hail noble Cneius!

Lig.
Hail the great Perpenna!

Dec.
Hail the great Perpenna!

Nor.
Hail the great Perpenna!

Perp.
The Omen's well, that, with a mind unite
To carry on this great deliv'ering work,
We here are met, as at a Signal given:
Tribunius, Crassus, and Ligurius,
Norbanus, and good Decius, use no speech;
But seat your selves. Now, Roman Lords, and Friends,
Once great in Fortune, not in emty sound;
The all that we enjoy; tho we may feign,
Like melancholy men who Reign in thought,
Revel in joyes, the meer Idea's form'd
From Fancy, wrought into a height by words,
But the effect is Air: Can you, my Friends,
Tho we may credit, in our fulness, things
Which stupid ease creates, be or secure or great?
We call our selves a Senate, and beget
Thoughts we are truly so. Sertorius says,
When barbarous Gaul's sack'd Rome and lay'd it wast,
Camillus unto Vei made retreat,
Gave out, that Rome it self was thither mov'd;
And, for the confirmation, added this:
“Where e're the Senate was, there Rome was still;
Alluding to our abject States, to please
A few, once Senators, now Exil'd men.
Say then, if Cneius may be bold to speak
The plainest of his thoughts.

Nor.
You have, Perpenna.

Crass.
VVe expect from thee, as from an Oracle.

Lig.
Speak free, Perpenna; for thou art our Fate.

Perp.
Say we have fought, and gain'd a Victory,
If I may call it so; but which of you,
From public hands receiv'd the benefit?
Or did the Croud eccho your names from far;
Or to your Houses carry you with shouts?
If any such be here, then I am mute.

Omnes.
None; none, Perpenna.

Perp.
Know you why it was?
For great Sertorius, like a boundless Sea,
Swallows the many Riv'lets in his Main.
VVhich of your Swords cut not as deep as His?
I saw you fight, and stood amaz'd at it.
VVhat have the Barbarous giv'n you in return
For such expense? If praise will cure your wounds,
The Soldier's purchase; whether since, or no,
They've thought you worthy merit?

Trib.
VVe all fought:
They look'd upon us, rais'd a shout, and cry'd,
The Gods reward the noble Roman Chiefs.

Perp.
I, there it is; the Gods must pay you thanks,
VVhile, like a Tyrant, he ingrosses all;
And leaves us not our fame. But now I'll hast
To search our hidden griefs. Sertorius says
Sylla's a Fury; truly, so it seems,
For, maugre all opposers, still he Rules;
His Fame mounts with the Chariot of the Sun,
Rises and sets with his Etherial light:
Yet we despise him, and contemn his pow'r,
Content with sound, and lull'd with flattery.
Is not the beaten Pompey at our walls?
Has not Metellus joyn'd him? nay, has not
Sylla threatn'd to be here? yet we sleep,
Surrounded with these dangers. Noble Friends,
If any of you think I use this speech
To alienate your Loyalty; or form
Language that bears a bane unto your worths;
Speak, and Perpenna shall be ever mute.

Lig.
Th'hast freed us from the Lethargie, and added
Long-absent heat: Go on, thou noble Roman,
Who, while we slept, beheld our certain Fate.

Perp.
This City, which, to Rome, is like a Star
In magnitude, unto the Moon at full,
He calls New Rome; the Superstitious Croud,
Pleas'd with the novelty, count him a God:
And pay him Adoration. Don't we find,
While we exclaim 'gainst Sylla, Sylla here?
Here, in Sertorius? is he not Lord of Rule?
Does he not write himself Dictator too?
Saves, or destroys? are not his words as Laws?
And, tho he Lures us with the name of Friends,
Are we not under his Authority?
When I consider, noble Romans, Jove
Rive me with Thunder, if it irks me not,
To see our selves thus, by our selves, deceiv'd.

Nor.
Thoulst read the mystic Character of Fate,
And found the number of the Sacred Writ:
Now lead the path, remote from Slavery.

Perp.
I were not, Romans, worthy of your loves,
Could I not shun, as well as see the danger.
Consider, Friends, now, as your latest choice;
For Freedom is't, or Slavery we toil?
If Freedom we desire, as I believe
No Roman breaths a Soul, or holds a Life
Worthy enjoying, without the blessed Name;
It must be (pardon me, for Gods command)
By bloud: Nay, start not, worthy Roman Friends;
We all must suffer, if he lives; if dyes,
We've all the World to rove in, or divide
The Provinces amongst us. Old Metellus
Will sign our own Conditions; Sylla courts us:
Lest, staying in their pow'r, we joyn with Pompey;
Whom, well I know that, he both hates and fears.
Speak then, my Friends, and ease me from my doubts:
If, by my freeness, I am odious grown;
This hand, which willingly should aid your cause,
Shall ease me of the weight of life I bear.

Trib.
Oft have I serv'd him, in the fiercest fights,
And think no man e're courted more his love;
But, since the general good requires his fall,
I willingly assent to't.

(Crass.)
So do I.

Nor., Lig., Dec.
And all.

Perp.
Give me your hands. First yours, Ligurius;
Now, noble Tribune, yours; honor'd Norbanus:
Tribunius, tho last, yet Chief of all.
Since Heav'n has put into our hands a Shield,
To ward the body from distress, Oh, Friends,
Watchful with cares, retiring to the Cave
Sacred to Fortune, which in Gaul I found,
Off'ring the Sacred Rites, lo, from her mouth
This sound was heard: “Awake, thou sleepy man,
“And dissipate those heavy clods of Earth;
“Whose pitchy vapors do, like Meteors, hang
“About thy Soul; Gods have decreed the fall
“Of proud Sertorius, and have chose thee out
“To free the Romans from their Slavish State:
“I'll move before thee, and prepare thy way;
“Into their minds instil the lost desire
“Of Liberty. This said, the God was mute.
By the concurrence, well I know the pow'r
That the indulgent Gods unto our Fates
By this effect have giv'n. Death is the word;
But how, and when, and where, you noble Romans,
Shall this great Act which gives us Liberty,
By Gods commanded, be by us perform'd?

Trib.
Fortune has chose thee out to lead us on:
Thou, who conversest with a Deity,
In my opinion, ought to be our Head.

Crass.
Perpenna's thoughtful, wise, and valiant,
Bends all his Study for the Roman good;
And, in this cause, must lead us forth to act.

Nor.
Do, noble Cneius; for we're vow'd to thee:
Point out the way, tho circled with the Fates,
We'd gain the prize, or perish in th'attemt.

Perp.
Secure in all your loves, I dare disclose
The secrets of my brest; and form a way
Subtil and sure, as what the Gods Decree.
What think you, Friends, if that he fall this night,
Deluded with a Tale of Victory?
I have the Engins ready for the work;
The fire is kindled, and the Forge compleat:
And we the many hands to batter down
This vast Colossus. But, with him, must fall
Bebricius; who, with jealous eyes, inspects
Into the very marrow of our Plot:
The real Argus; and a trusty Villain.

Trib.
Delay is dangerous; since we are confirm'd,
Why should our Swords, ready to act our wills,
Grow to the Scabbards? Freedom is the prize
For which we fight: now, in the face of Day,
The Sun should view the glory of the deed.

Perp.
Brave Spirit! that's so forward in the Cause,
Signal from Heav'n to fan us into flame!
But that the Gods decree it otherwise,
Blest would my Optics be, to see thy Sword
Hew Slavery in pieces. This I've thought;
When high in hope, pleas'd with the splendid Tale
Of Vict'ry, won from Sylla's Officers:
He sups with me to night; and that's his last.
The Lusitanian who admires him so
As the dull Clown the Thunder-making God,
Not knowing that the warring Elements
Create the same without the Thund'rer's hands,
Must with him fall. Draw all your Swords. Now swear,
By all the Pow'rs which sat when Man was made;
By all the Beings abstract from those Po'wrs,
Sea, Air, and Fire; by day, and Erebus;
And by th'Eternal Flames of Pluto's Realm:
When Time the happy minute points out,
You Swords cut deep into the Monster's heart.

Omnes.
We swear.

Perp.
Methinks, I see the Landscape of his Fate,
By angry Dæmons, stretch'd to a full length;
While the pleas'd Gods their heav'nly Curtins draw,
And from the Christal Casements of the Sky
With purer light Illuminate the Moon,
Pale with the greatness of the glorious deed
Which makes an Empire, and subverts a State,
And, from my breath, Takes the Decrees of Fate.

[Exeunt.