 | The Tragedy of Sertorius |  |
SCEN. IX.
Fight. After which, Pompey, Bebricius, Lusitanians, Romans: Perpenna, Tribunius, and Norbanus Prisoners.Pomp.
Such is the Fortune of Imperial Rome,
VVhen-e're her Sons against her do rebel,
To turn the lot of ruin on their heads.
Thou fear'd Sertorius, Rival to my Arms,
Fam'd Soldier once that was, now thou'rt no more;
By Heav'n, it grieves me that I meet thee thus:
In Battel, to compleat my Victories,
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Thou should'st have fell, not by a Villain's hand.
Bebr.
Forgive me, Oh thou Manes, this delay;
I only live, to see thy death reveng'd.
Pompey.
Where was thy sense of Honor, cruel man?
Scythia, in falshood, does fall short of thee:
Not the contriving Furies of the deep
Could e're invent a greater Villany.
Perp.
Hold, Beardless Boy; thou Novice in a Camp,
That oft has fled my Sword, as School-boys Rods:
Think upon Sucron Fields, and then be mute.
Thou say'st that Hell could not afford a Scene
Of greater mischief: I am proud of it.
Empire I aim'd at; had it once in sight;
Till the curs'd Gods cast in their bar between.
In me, 'twas great; but it was base in these:
And, if that Chance had blest me with a Throne,
Their heads had been the steps to mount upon.
Nor.
Dog, Son of Night, ingendred of the foam
Of Cerberus, and Hell's contagious Dew.
Trib.
Oh, I could eat my Chains, to com at thee!
Perp.
Tribunius, please me with a Mask of Death:
Knock out thy brains against those Ornaments,
And let me see how bravely thou wilt dy.
Trib.
Blest Fortune!—Take that, Paricide. When Hell's.
Capacious Kingdom does confine our Souls,
There, in th'Infernal Lake, I'll plunge thee in;
Sink with thee to Perdition; and, in pain,
Snatches a Sword from a Soldier, & kills Perpenna.
Take plesure in thy Conquest. Lead me on;
The Gemonies, Tarpeian Rock is bliss,
And death, which sets me free, a Paradise.
| The Tragedy of Sertorius | |