University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

The Curtain draws, and discovers Emilia, and Fulvia in Emilia's Apartment.
Emil.
When I behold this Cæsar, this Augustus,
Amidst the Pomp of his Imperial Glory,
Grief and Resentment then reproach my Mem'ry,
That his ungrateful Hand proscrib'd Toranius,
His faithful Tutor, and my tender Father,
To make his first Advance to mount this Throne.
Abandon'd then to my impetuous Rage,
I meditate a thousand Deaths on Cæsar,
Yet in the transports of a Wrath so just,
I Cinna love, more than I hate Augustus,
And I perceive the boyling Motions cool,
When to pursue 'em I expose a Lover,
When on the frightful Dangers I reflect,
On which I may precipitate my Cinna,
My self I irritate against my self;
For tho' his Love all Danger may despise,
Emilia shou'd consider ev'ry Fate
That threatens Subjects, when they strike at Kings.
Th'Event is doubtful; but the Danger certain.
A dastard, envious, or a faithless Friend,
May sacrifice the Cause, and Cinna's Life;
The Manner ill concerted, ill perform'd,
Or Opportunity not rightly taken,
Against my Cinna's Breast may turn the Blow,
At Cæsar destin'd—

Fulv.
Madam, strive to quell
This fatal Rage of Vengeance—O! no more
Indulge a Hate, that ev'ry Moment drowns
Your Eyes, and gives your Heart such stabbing Fears.

Emil.
But, can I fear? or shou'd I stoop to weep?
While greatly I revenge a Father's Blood.
Can I regret the Price by which his Death
I may retaliate on his Murtherer?
Banish, Emilia, banish the strong Terrors,
That seize, that wou'd debase thy Roman Soul:
And thou, O soft'ning Love! whose tender Pow'r,
Has rais'd this rending Tumult in my Heart,
Combat no more my Virtue, but obey,
And to its glorious Dictates be subservient.
Be gen'rous Love, and to my Duty yield;
Thou canst not conquer here, but to thy Shame.
Yes, I have sworn it Fulvia, and again,
Tho' I love Cinna, yes, tho' I adore him,
Again repeat, confirm my sacred Oath,
That Cinna never shall possess Emilia,
Till, by his Hand, this King by me proscrib'd
Shall perish; yes, his mounted Head alone,
Laid low a Victim to my just Revenge,
Shall bless the Hopes of Cinna's fervent Vows.
The Law my Duty has impos'd on me
I give to him.

Fulv.
Madam, the Sentiments
You from your Duty form, are truly Roman.
Your great Design must ever make you deem'd
Worthy the Blood of him you wou'd revenge;
Yet once again permit me to intreat,
That you wou'd moderate your just Resentment.
Those envy'd Favours, Cæsar ev'ry Day
Confers on you, seem to repair those Ills
Which once you suffer'd from his fatal Hand.
Your Pow'r at Court appears so much declar'd,
That they who share the most in Cæsar's Smiles,
Kneeling to you their humble Suits prefer.

Emil.
Can Benefits revive my slaughter'd Father?
In whatsoever State I am consider'd,
In Wealth abounding, or in Credit pow'rful,
I still remain the Child of one proscrib'd.
From Cæsar's lavish Hand I ev'ry Hour
Receive, but am not soften'd with his Bounties;
No! still my Hate and Courage are the same,
And more, my Pow'r to compass my Design.
In such a Cause, depriv'd of open Means,
Tho' 'gainst my Benefactor I conspire,
Treason is glorious; and I sell my Father,
If meanly yielding to the Grace of Cæsar,
I leave my Parent's Murther unreveng'd.

Fulv.
But will you let the World insult your Name,
With the detested Epithet, Ungrateful?
Indulge your Grief, and hate in private rather.
Thousands besides Emilia still retain
The sad Impression of those Cruelties,
By which the Tyrant has confirm'd his Throne.
The many daring and illustrious Romans,
That fell a Sacrifice to his Ambition,
Have to their Children left a brooding Grief,
Which must produce, on this detested Cæsar,
A general Revenge for all his Crimes.
Numbers of bold and enterprizing Spirits
Have vow'd the Deed, and thousands more will follow.
Who can live long that is the common Grievance?
Embark your Int'rest with the publick Cause;
But aid it only with your secret Wishes.

Emil.
Shall I attend from Chance the mortal Blow,
And satisfie the pressing Calls of Duty
With bashful Hate, and with obscure Revenge?
The Death of Cæsar wou'd be bitter to me,
If he to any Cause a Victim fell,
But my Revenge;—
Yet to the Pleasure of a filial Vengeance,
I'll joyn the Glory gain'd by killing Tyrants,
And Rome shall through all Italy proclaim,
Emilia's Vengeance set the Romans free:
Her Soul was touch'd with Pity, and her Heart
Pierc'd deep with Love; but at that Price alone,
She yielded to that Love.—

Fulv.
O fatal Passion!
That drives your Lover on to certain Ruin.
Think better to what Dangers you expose him,
How many on this Rock have split already.

Emil.
Forbear, alas!—My Soul's most tender Part;
Let Fulvia's Friendship cease to wound in vain.
When Fear for Cinna's Life invades my Heart,
Love triumphs o'er the faint Efforts of Duty;
But when Rome's Fetters,—when my Father's Murther,
Upbraid Emilia's tame, relenting Spirit,
Love's gentle Flame submits to fierce Revenge.
Thou shew'st the Dangers great—I own 'em great;
Yet what we venture is not always lost.
Tho' Cæsar were amidst a thousand Legions,
Not all the Caution, Fear or Guilt may give him,
Can guard his Life from Cinna's daring Hand,
When Love and Honour urge the glorious Deed.
'Tis Virtue's, 'tis my Glory's Enterprise,
And whether Cinna or Augustus perish,
I to the Manes of Toranius owe
This Sacrifice, which Cinna vow'd to me,
When, in return, I gave my plighted Faith,
Of which this Blow alone can make him worthy.
Besides it is too late to stagger now,
This fatal Day they meet, this Day determine
The Place, the Hour, the Hand—I know the worst;
If Cinna falls, Emilia follows him—
This is the usual Hour in which the Empress
Receives her Morning Court—

Fulv.
But Cinna promis'd,
That ere an Hour were pass'd, he'd find you here.

Emil.
If I omit to make my Court to Livia,
She, as a Favour, sends to know the Cause
That makes me fail, and what can I pretend
To her; if Cinna's Visit I receive—
We'll only show our selves, and strait return.—

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The Scene opens and discovers Cinna and Maximus at the Head of the Conspirators.
Cin.
My Friends, and Fellow-Citizens of Rome,
The Time so long impatiently desir'd,
To ease our Griefs, to end our Doubts, and crown
Our glorious Hopes, is now at hand; to Morrow
Heav'n in our Hands will put the Fate of Rome,
Then, on the Ruin of one single Man,
Will all that's dear to us, to Rome depend;
But can we call him Man who is Inhuman,
Whose Thirst for Roman Blood's insatiable?
How many wily Snares has Cæsar laid,
To make his Fellow-Citizens his Prey?
How many times deserted Sides and Parties?
With Antony this Traitor first combin'd,
Then hunted him with spightful War to Death,
And cruel still, and insolent. I tremble,
When I wou'd call to mind the Miseries
Our Parents suffer'd in our tender Years;
Those barbarous, invet'rate, civil Battels,
In which Rome tore in pieces her own Bowels,
When Eagles bore down Eagles, and each Province
Sent forth her Legions against Liberty,
When the best Soldiers, and the greatest Chiefs
Did vilely glory in becoming Slaves;
And then, to keep in Countenance the Shame
Their Fetters brought, they put the World in Chains,
Contending next, who that accursed Honour
Should first obtain, of giving it a Lord,
Gilding with Sov'reign Pow'r the Name of Traitor;
Romans with Romans, Kindred fought with Kindred,
For the sole Privilege of naming Tyrants.

Maxim.
What Roman Heart, what Memory, can lose
The sad Impression of the impious Concord
Of the Triumvirs, terrible and fatal
To all good Men, the rich, and to the Senate,
And then to the Triumvirate it self?
Who can express the Grief, the Terror, Woe,
That rent a virtuous and a free-born Soul,
When it beheld in Lepidus, a Wretch;
In Antony, a Libertine; in Cæsar,
An artful timorous Ulysses triumph,
And tyrannize o'er Romans?

Cin.
And combine
To deluge Rome in her own Childrens Blood,
Seeming to vie who should exceed the other
In execrable Crimes, and vast Destruction.
My sad reluctant Memory denies
To aid my Soul, attempting to describe
Woes that still dwell so heavy in our Hearts.

Marcel.
Amaz'd, and terrify'd, as heretofore;
Methinks I see the tragick Scenes perform'd,
Some in the publick Places massacred;
Some in the Bosoms of their Houshold Gods;
The Guilty in their Crimes indulg'd, incourag'd;
The Husband murther'd by the Wife in Bed;
The Son, all hideous with the Father's Blood,
Presents his Head, demanding his Reward.

Maxim.
And yet these horrid, these licentious Ills,
Which, from their Hostile Hands, we long indur'd;
Are but faint Scetches of those Cruelties
Our Country suffer'd from their bloody Peace.

Glabr.
'Tis needless to recite the glorious Names
Of those Illustrious Men by them proscrib'd;
Or paint the Deaths of all those Demi-Gods,
Those stedfast Patriots, the remoseless Tyrants
Before our Sacred Altars sacrific'd.

Cin.
Those Cruelties, the loss of our Estates,
Our Liberties, the ravaging our Country,
The pillaging our Cities, the Proscriptions,
Our Civil Wars, are but the bloody Steps
On which Augustus chose to mount his Throne,
And dictate to us his perpetual Laws.

Len.
Yet we may change this wretched Destiny,
Since, of three Tyrants, only one remains.
Our other Triumvirs he justly punish'd,
When, big with hopes of Pow'r, in Lepidus
And Antony he fell'd his own Support.

Maxim.
This once he did, but 'twas to reign alone;
Destroy two Men as wicked as himself.

Rutil.
When dead he'll be disabled of Revenge,
And we no more shall dread the Name of Master,
The Senate shall decree us Annual Triumphs
For Liberty restor'd, and Tyranny destroy'd.

Cin.
Let us not lose this Opportunity,
That smiles propitious on our Enterprize,
To Morrow Cæsar, in the Capitol,
Will offer Sacrifice, and may he be
Himself the Victim; let us in this Place,
This awful Place, do Justice to the World,
Ev'n in the Face of our assembled Gods;
But few attend him there beside our selves,
Then Maximus, with half our Band, may guard
The Portal, with the rest I'll compass Cæsar;
He, from my Hand receives the hallow'd Cup;
Then, as a Signal, may this glorious Arm
Direct my Ponyard deep into his Bosom:
Thus with a mortal Blow the Tyrant struck;
Will show that Cinna is of Pompey's Blood;
And you, by seconding my Stroak, confirm
You still remember your Illustrious Fathers;
If any of our Members disapprove
The Conduct, or Occasion, let him him speak.
Freely object, or swear by Liberty
Stedfastly to adhere to this Proposal.

Max.
Liberty—

Omnes.
Liberty, Revenge, Revenge and Liberty.

SCENE III.

Emilia Enters with Fulvia, as in her own Apartment.
Emil.
The great important Hour is now expir'd,
When the Success of my illustrious Vengeance,
And when thy kind or cruel Fate, Emilia,
Thine mighty Rome, thine Cinna, was resolv'd.
How tedious are the Hours of Expectation!
When ev'ry Moment gives the Soul new Hope
Of mighty Joy, or Fear of mortal Woe—
Enter Cinna.
But see he comes—Are your Associates firm—
Are they not startled, Cinna, at the Danger,
Or do their Brows assure their Hearts are bold,
And resolute as are their Words and Oaths?

Cin.
Never Emilia, never yet was form'd
Conspiracy that gave such Expectation,
Nor ever did Conspirators resolve,
With such resentful Warmth, a Tyrant's Death.
Such joyful Hopes appear in ev'ry Face,
Such Eagerness to execute the Deed,
As if like me each Man obey'd his Mistress,
A Hatred so confirm'd possesses 'em,
As if like you each Man reveng'd a Father.

Emil.
I well foresaw you wou'd not fail to chuse,
For such a Work, Men of intrepid Souls,
That Cinna cou'd not trust Rome's Cause, and mine,
But in the Hands of Men of steady Virtue.

Cin.
I could have wish'd that you had seen the Rage
Which at the Name of Cæsar, or Augustus,
Flam'd in their Eyes; I scarce cou'd end my Speech,
When, with a noble Heat, the whole Assembly
Approv'd the Project I with you concerted,
To give my destin'd Blow to Cæsar's Heart.
This is the Point to which we now are come;
To Morrow I expect the Hate, or Hearts,
Of all Mankind, the Name of Paricide,
Or of Deliv'rer, Cæsar, that of Prince,
Or those of Traitor, and usurping Tyrant.
Whether the Gods on me shall smile, or frown,
Raise me to Glory, or deliver me
To shameful Punishment, to Cruelties;
That Rome declare us Friends, or Enemies;
I shall find Pleasure on the Rack, in Shame,
When I reflect I bear 'em for Emilia—

Emil.
Nothing can happen that may wound thy Fame;
If Fortune prove averse, thy Life's in Danger;
But Cinna's Honour is not in her Pow'r.
Brutus and Cassius met with ill Success;
Yet, is the Splendor of their Names obscur'd?
Are they not still esteem'd the first of Romans?
The Conqueror, Augustus, reigns in Rome;
But those illustrious Victims Rome deplores.
Go, on their Steps, where now thy Honour calls thee;
Yet Cinna be not careless of thy Life,
Bear in thy Mind our bright and tender Flame,
That not the Glory only; but Emilia
Is thy Reward, that she expects thy Heart,
Due to the Favour of her plighted Faith,
And of the Trust she has repos'd in Thee;
Forget not therefore, that thy Days are dear
To Me, and that my Life depends on thine.
Enter Evander.
But what has brought in haste Evander here?

Evan.
My Lord, 'tis Cæsar's Will, that Maximus,
And you forthwith attend him.

Cin.
—Both, Evander?

Evan.
As thro' the Forum I this Moment past,
Stern Polycletus stopt my eager March,
Inquir'd for You, and then for Maximus.
I said that You in private hasted forth;
But had, by Me, intreated Maximus,
To meet you, ere an Hour was spent, at Court.
He told me that he wou'd return to Cæsar.
Pleas'd with the good Effect of my Precaution,
I hither sped to give you timely Notice.
He wore his earnest Look.

Emil.
Thou art discover'd.
Send, send with Speed for the Conspirators.

Cin.
Have better Hopes.

Emil.
No, Cinna, I shall lose thee;
I find the Gods are obstinately bent
On giving Rome a Master, and have mingled,
Among thy true and worthy Friends, a Traitor;
It must be so, Augustus is inform'd
Of all, and thou and all our Hopes are lost.

Cin.
In vain I wou'd dissemble my Surprise,
I own I stand amaz'd at this Command;
Yet Cæsar often calls me near his Person,
And Maximus is of his Bosom Friendship,
Perhaps our Fears prevail upon our Reason,

Emil.
Ah! Cinna, drive not to Extremity
My Grief, and since you can't revenge my Wrong,
From Cæsar's mortal Vengeance save your self.
Enough these Eyes have wept my Father's Murther,
Reduce me not to mourn a Lover too.

Cin.
Art thou Emilia! from the meer Illusion
Of a vain panick Fear, shall I betray
Emilia's Int'rest, and the Publick Good,
Abandon all, when I shou'd venture all?
Consider what Effect my Flight wou'd have
Upon our Friends, shou'd this Alarm prove false.

Emil.
But if thy Enterprise be known to Cæsar,
What will become of Cinna?—

Cin.
If there be
A Soul so mean as to betray the Cause,
And me, yet Cinna's Virtue shall not fail him;
Yes it shall brave the vilest Punishment,
In spight of Fortune shall secure my Glory,
In Tortures triumph over Cæsar's Wrath,
Shall make him jealous of the Blood he sheds,
And tremble at the Death he gives—No more,
I fear my longer Stay may give Suspicion.
Now, my Emilia! let thy Words, and Looks,
Confirm my gen'rous Courage, and farewel.—
If I a rig'rous Fate am doom'd to bear,
I shall, at once, be wretched, and be happy,
Happy, to die endeavouring to serve You,
But wretched that I die and have not serv'd You.

Emil.
Go Cinna, listen to my Fears no more,
Forgive, my Love, this one ignoble Weakness.
I see that thy Attempt to fly were vain;
If Cæsar is inform'd, his Jealousie
Has taken care to hinder thy Escape.
Go, go, and in this noble Confidence,
Present thy self at Court, to Cæsar's Presence;
If there Augustus has decreed thy Fall,
Die as becomes a Roman Citizen;
But Cinna do not thou believe Emilia
Will patiently attend 'till Grief shall end her.
No! thy departing Soul will bear mine with it,
And ev'ry Stab that pierces thee—

Cin.
O hold!
Let me, when I am dead, still live in Thee;
At least permit me, while I die, to hope,
Emilia's Grief will prompt her to Revenge,
By one great Blow, a Lover and a Father.
There is no Cause why Thou shou'dst fear, our Friends
Know not the Secret of our Love, nor Vengeance,
Trusted alone to Fulvia, and Evander.

Emil.
Less apprehensive then I go to Livia,
Since, midst the Danger, there remains a Hope
To save thy Life; but if this Method fail,
O think not, Cinna, that I will out-live thee.

Cin.
Forbear that Thought, let not thy Love to Me
Seduce thee to be cruel to thy self.

Emil.
Go, and remember only that I love.
Thy Destiny is mine; if I succeed,
We both shall live; if not, we both must bleed.

[Exeunt.