University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Polycletus in Cæsar's Appartment.
Poly.
I wonder much that Maximus and Cinna
Appear not yet at Court; but here they come.
Enter Maximus and Cinna.
By Cæsar's Order I attend here,
To give him Notice of your first Appearance.

[Exit.
Maxim.
If Cæsar is inform'd of our Design,
Then Polycletus has dissembled well;
For Cæsar never fails to let him know,
In such a Case, the Cause of his Commission.

Cin.
He is too rough, and hasty to dissemble;
His Zeal for Tyrants wou'd not let him smooth
His stern Demeanour; if he knew our Purpose;
But Cæsar comes.

Maxim.
He wears a thoughtful Brow.

Cæsar Enters, and places himself between Cinna and Maximus.
Cæs.
This absolute Command, this Power supream,
That o'er the Universe I now possess;
This boundless Grandeur, this illustrious Title
By Me, at length, with so much Toyl acquir'd,
And which of Blood has cost such vast Effusion;
All that importunate and flattering Courtiers
Adore in this my Elevated Fortune,
Believe me, Friends, is like a dazling Beauty
That strikes the Sight; but when enjoy'd grows pall'd;
Ambition thus when satiated offends,
And soon an opposite Desire succeeds:
Thus mounted on the Pinnacle of Power,
I covet to descend; the Soul amus'd,
From Stage to Stage of Life, with ardent Heat,
Some Object still pursues; but when possess'd
Of all it can desire, when not one Object
Remains, that can provoke the eager Chace,
She to her self returns, and slights her Prey:
I fought for Empire, and I have obtain'd it;
But understood not that for which I sought:
And all the Charms I find in the Possession,
Are anxious Cares, perpetual Alarms,
A thousand secret Enemies, and Death
Still menacing. In Arbitrary Power
Sylla preceded Me, and the great Julius,
My Sire, enjoy'd a while despotick Sway,
Which they beheld with different Regard,
The one resign'd, the other held the Throne;
The one, tho' cruel, barbarous, and fierce,
Like a good Citizen, belov'd and quiet,
Dy'd in the Bosom of his Native City;
But Julius, Gracious, Courteous, and Humane,
Amidst the Senate saw himself assassin'd.
These fresh Examples wou'd instruct me well;
If meer Example shou'd direct our Deeds,
To follow Sylla's Conduct I'm inclin'd,
And at the Fate of Julius stand agast.

Cin.
Not always do the past Events describe
The necessary Fate of Things to come.

Aug.
Thence is the constant Anguish of my Soul.
Assist me, Friends,—Distraction follows Doubt.
You are to Me Mecenas and Agrippa;
I often have this Point discuss'd with them,
Take you the Power they had upon my Mind,
Consider not the Grandeur of my Rank,
Odious to Rome, and irksome to my self,
Treat me not like a Sovereign, but a Friend;
Augustus, Rome, the State are in your Hands;
And whether Europe, Asia, Africa,
Shall yield to Laws, or Arbitrary Rule,
Depends alone on your united Votes.
By them I'll be Augustus or Octavius,
By them be Emperor or Citizen.

Cin.
Tho' weak for Council, and tho' much surpriz'd,
I shall obey; nor with mean Complaisance,
Will I endeavour to disguise my Thoughts.
Cæsar, you will be cruel to your Glory,
In opening thus your Heart to such Impressions.
Should you resign the Power your Sword has won;
The envious World, severe to all your Actions,
Would construe this Remorse, that shameful Brand
Imprint not on those rare, and signal Virtues,
Which wrought your Fortune to this wondrous height.
You justly are our Monarch, nor have You,
By wicked Outrage, chang'd the Form of State;
Rome Conquer'd all the Word, you Conquer'd Rome.
This Julius did, and You must now condemn
His Memory, or must like Him proceed;
'Tis not for You to follow, nor to fear,
Or Sylla's, or your Father's Destiny;
By Heav'ns Commission, a more powerful Spirit
Hovers with careful Watch o'er Cæsar's Years.
Full ten Conspiracies against your Life
Already have been form'd by Men determin'd,
Yet in their vain Attempts themselves have perish'd.
Many Conspire; but few can execute;
There are Assassins still, but where's a Brutus;
If that Reverse of Fortune be your Doom,
'Tis great to Die the Master of the World.

Maxim.
Augustus has a Right to keep the Power,
He by transcendent Merit has acquir'd;
For with his Blood, and Peril of his Life,
He justly made a Conquest of the State:
But that his Glory will receive a Stain,
If weary with the weight he lay it down;
Or that he will of Tyranny accuse
His Father Julius, or approve his Death,
I must deny; You Cæsar are our Prince.
Rome, and its Empire, are your Property,
And of our own we freely may dispose,
Relinquish at our Pleasure, or retain;
And is this common Privilege debarr'd
From You alone, are You that Conquer'd all,
The Vassal of your Power, and is that Greatness
By which you absolutely Rule the World,
Become at last Superiour to your self?
Your Virtue, that has rais'd so high your Glory,
And made you Triumph over all Mankind,
Will still be greater, if you slight that Empire.
Let the World see all Grandeur is beneath you;
Let Cæsar only Triumph over Cæsar.
To Rome you owe your Birth, to Rome those Arms
That made you Victor over all the Nations,
That brought you home to Triumph o'er her self;
Yet what you had from her you'll now repay,
More than a thousand fold, by this great Action.
Follow the Light of Heav'n, that inspires you,
That points this only Way to crown your Glory.
Fortune, or Valour, Empire may bestow;
But first to win, and then disdain a Crown,
Are highest Proofs of a consummate Virtue;
Besides, consider that you reign in Rome,
That whatsoever Name the Court may give you,
The City shudders at the Name of King;
And tho' with specious Terms you hide the Title,
Yet he that makes himself the Master there,
Is deem'd a Tyrant, and his Party Slaves,
Traytors his Friends, and he that suffers him
An abject Coward, and of servile Kind;
To kill him is the Work of gen'rous Virtue.
Of this, ten vain Attempts upon your Life,
Recorded in our Minds, are dismal Proofs;
Perhaps another ready to burst forth,
Attends Occasion, and this Agitation
That works your Soul, is Heaven's Admonishment,
As the sole Means to save you from the Blow.

Cin.
If your Affection to your Native Country
Must here prevail, it's proper Good consider;
This Liberty, that is to Rome so pretious,
Is but imaginary, and to Her
Rather pernicious, than of wholesome Use;
Or far inferior to that Benefit,
Which, from a worthy Prince, a State receives.
With Rule and Reason Honours He confers,
Rewards with Judgment, punishes with Justice;
Nor knowing that his Reign is but a Year,
Does he precipitate the States Affairs,
Nor is rapacious to be rich in haste,
Nor lavishes the Publick Wealth to Faction;
But, where the Government is popular,
All is perform'd with Tumult and Disorder,
And the calm Voice of Reason seldom heard,
There, ever to the most ambitious Bidder
The Dignities and Offices are Sold,
Sedition there, and clam'rous Impudence
Extort Authority; those Annual Kings,
Jealous of the succeeding Monarch's Glory,
Ruin with envious Haste the best Designs,
And, having little Stakes in what they manage,
Purloin their Harvest from the publick Store,
Secure of Pardon from those Magistrates,
Who are themselves endeav'uring to surpass
Their sordid Predecessors in Corruption.
The worst of Government is in the People.

Aug.
Yet Cinna, this alone will please in Rome;
This Hate to Kings, which many Centuries,
Even with their Milk, her Children have imbib'd,
Has taken in their Hearts too deep a Root
Thence to be torn.

Maxim.
The Senate, Sir, is still
Obstinate in this Principle, the People
Inchanted with it shun the Face of Council,
And Custom is to Them instead of Reason;
This ancient Error Cinna would abolish,
Is yet that lucky Error they adore,
And the whole World, submitting to its Laws,
An hundred times hath seen it Triumph o'er
The Heads of Kings, and Rome's Exchequer fill
With the rich Pillage of their Provinces;
What more can You the best of Princes give,
Each Climate, and each People seems to want
A Government peculiar to its Nature,
Which none can change; but in that Peoples wrong.
'Tis Monarchy the Macedonians covet,
The rest of Greece love publick Liberty;
The Persians and Parthians ask a King;
The Consulship alone is good in Rome:
This Revolution, which the Gods alone
Seem to Conduct, will shed no Blood, nor draw
A fatal Consequence on any Head.

Cin.
It is the Rule of Heav'n still to mix
Some bitter, with the Blessings it confers;
The Tarquin's Exile made Rome flow with Blood.

Max.
Did then your Grandsire Pompey Heav'n oppose,
When for his Country's Liberty he fought?

Cin.
If Heav'n had been unwilling Rome should lose it,
By Pompey's Arms it would have been preserv'd;
But Heav'n premeditately chose his Death,
To be a Signal, and Eternal Mark
Of this prodigious Change; and as an Honour
Due to the Manes of so great a Man,
Decreed Rome's Liberty should End with Him:
This Liberty, long since, has only serv'd
To dazle Rome, and which, her own vast Power
Would not permit her to enjoy; for when
She knew her self the Mistress of the World,
Her Wealth and People stretching wide her Bounds,
And that her Womb, fertile in great Exploits,
Had Citizens produc'd, than Kings more powerful,
Then, her great Sons, their Greatness to secure,
By bribing Votes, at a prodigious Cost,
Held pompously their Masters in their Pay,
Who yielding to be bound with Golden Chains,
Receiv'd those Laws, which they believ'd they gave,
Invidious of each other, their Pursuits
By the dark Practice of Intreague they manag'd,
And which Ambition turn'd to bloody Leagues:
Then Liberty was of no longer Use;
But to provoke the Rage of Civil Wars,
To save it self, 'tis necessary Rome,
Assembling all its Greatness, should Obey,
Submissively, one great and worthy Chief.
Sylla relinquishing the Sov'reign Power,
That o'er his Country he so well usurp'd,
Open'd the War to Cæsar and to Pompey,
When from a Pride destructive to the World,
One could no Master brook, and one no Equal.
Rome had not groan'd beneath their fatal Discord,
Had Cinna, to his Family secur'd
The State, become by right of War his own.
Let your Affection to your Native Country—
Let Pity move you, Rome, your own Rome, Augustus,
Now, on her Knees, implores you in my Voice,
Consider, Sir, the Price at which she bought you,
Not that she thinks her Purchase is too dear,
No! you have overpaid those Ills she suffer'd;
But a just Fear must terrifie her Soul,
Least she, so dear, should buy another Monarch,
And better to secure the Common Good,
Appoint a Successor that's worthy Cæsar.

Max.
One that is worthy Cæsar—Happy Rome!
If such a one might be, and then another,
From Reign to Reign, and so continue down
To late Posterity, another Cæsar,
'Till to the former Chaos all shall turn;
But oh! the Race of Man! how frail! how vile!
Search all the Periods of Eternal Time,
And stand astonish'd, when you see how few
Deserve the Name of King, or that of Man,
To the few Good, oppose the countless Bad,
The little Intervals of happy Reigns,
To the long Series of these dismal Times,
The World has groan'd beneath desertless Kings.

Cin.
Count all the Mischiefs of invet'rate Factions,
The cruel Hate of Parties, that divides
The nearest Kindred, and the dearest Friends;
Turn o'er the num'rous Annals of your Country,
You'll find Proscriptions, and intestine Broils,
Were but the dire Effects of private Malice.
The change of Consuls caus'd a yearly War,
With great Distresses press'd, by Instinct, Rome
In a Dictator plac'd her chief Ressource,
And when her Woes, at last, became extream,
She sought her genuine Refuge in a King.
The Gods on Monarchy first founded Rome,
And smil'd propitious on her early Kings,
Those Gods, provok'd, held long her State revers'd;
But Heav'n, appeas'd, withdraws its wrathful Arm,
And to her proper Basis Rome returns.

Aug.
Debate no more, Compassion here prevails,
To me Repose is dear, but dearer Rome;
I sigh for my Tranquillity in vain:
Cinna, my Empire I by your Advice
Will keep, and keep it but to share it with you.
I see your Hearts, to Me, wear no Disguise,
And that your Councils equally regard
My Person's Safety, and the State's Advantage.
This Combat of our diff'ring Sentiments,
But from a well meant Zeal, in each proceeds,
And each shall now receive its due Reward;
You Maximus, this Moment I create
Pretor of Sicily, that fruitful Isle
From you, henceforward, shall receive my Laws,
Remember, that for Me you govern there,
Remember, I must answer all you do:
Cinna, on You Emilia I bestow,
Who holds with Me my Daughter Julia's Place;
If our Misfortunes and Necessity
Have made me to her Father too severe,
My Heart and Treasure, (in her Favour open,)
I hope has cur'd, at least asswag'd, her Grief.
Go, visit her from me, and try to gain her;
Cinna is not a Man she ought to scorn,
She'll rather be transported with thy Vows—
Farewel, I go to bear this News to Livia,
The tender Partner of my Grief and Joy.
With soothing Baths, and the smooth suppling Oyl
The Body is refresh'd o'ercharg'd with Toil,
And from a Friend's Advice Relief we find,
From Doubts and Terrors that torment the Mind.

Max.
Cinna, he shou'd have said, the Soul, divided
'Twixt Good and Ill, approves of that Advice
Which flatters most the Bent of her Desires.
To what Design might tend your fine Discourse?

Cin.
To the Design I have, and will pursue.

Maxim.
The Principal of a Conspiracy
Against a Tyrant, flatter Tyranny.

Cin.
I wish to see Rome free, and you may judge
That I would free her, and revenge her too.
Shall Cæsar then have satiated his Fury,
Our Altars pillag'd, sacrific'd our Lives,
With Horror spread the Fields, heap'd Rome with Dead,
And shall he now be quit of all these Crimes,
For an Effect of his Remorse, when Heav'n
By our just Hands prepares to punish him?
Shall then a mean Repentance save his Head?
Let us revenge our Fellow-Citizens,
Let Cæsar's Punishment affrighten those
That after him aspire to wear a Crown.
Had she but punish'd Sylla, his Example
Had terrify'd great Julius from Ambition.

Maxim.
Willing to free us, Brutus was deceiv'd.
Shall we our offer'd Liberty refuse,
To seek it at the Peril of our Lives?
You'll have it bloody, and so make it doubtful.

Cin.
Without the Tyrant's Death it will be shameful.

Maxim.
All Means are great to Rome that bring her Freedom.

Cin.
Rome will disdain ev'n Freedom to receive,
From one grown weary of oppressing her;
She has a Heart too great to see with Joy
Her self the Refuge of a glutted Tyrant,
And all that are Supporters of true Glory,
Too much detest him, to receive his Bounty.

Maxim.
Then Cinna shou'd detest the Fair Emilia.

Cin.
By Cæsar's Death I will deserve Emilia,
And having Rome reveng'd of all her Woes,
I will my bloody Hand with Transport joyn,
To hers, and wed her trampling on his Ashes—
Emilia—
Not as my Emp'ror's gift will I receive,
But my Reward for having kill'd the Tyrant.

Maxim.
But what wild Fancy makes you hope to please
Emilia's Eyes, all horrid with the Blood
Of him, she as her Father loves, and Cinna
Is not a Man to offer Violence.

Cin.
Here, Maximus, we may be over-heard,
Nor can we be too cautious, when we talk
On Subjects that shou'd make us dread the Wind.
Retire with Me, where safely we'll consult
The gentlest Means to compass our Design.
O! Maximus, with jarring Passions rent,
The Heart demands a Friend, to give it vent.