University of Virginia Library

ACT 3.

SCEN. 1.

Charmion, Achoreus.
Char.
Yes, whilst the King himself is gone to meet
Cæsar, and lay his Scepter at his Feet.
To her Appartment Cleopatra went,
And there unmov'd expects his Complement.
What words have you to cloath this Humour in?

Acho.
'Tis Noble Pride and worthy of a Queen.
Who with Heroick courage does make good
The Honour of her Rank, and of her Blood.
May I speak to Her?

Char.
No, but she hath sent.
Me to inquire this meetings great event.
How Cæsar on this Gift himself explain'd,
Whether it were acknowledg'd or disdaind.
If he the fierce takes, or the gentler way,
And what he to our Murtherers could say.

Acho.
The head of Pompey hath already cost
More then they will have any cause to boast:
For whether Cæsar be or seem severe,
Yet I for them have ground enough to fear.
If they lov'd Ptolomy, they serv'd him ill,
You saw him part, and I pursu'd him still.
When from the City his well order'd Fleet
Advanc'd a League, that they might Cæsar meet;
He with spread Sails arriv'd, and as in Wars
He still had been the Favourite of Mars:
So Neptune to his Navy was so kind,
His Fortune was not fairer than his wind.
Our Prince was so astonish'd when they met,
As if he did his Crowned Head forget.
Through his false Joy his Terrour he Confess'd,
And all his Actions his low Thoughts express'd.
I my self blush'd as at a shameful Thing,
There to see Ptolomy, but not the King;
Cæsar who saw his Courage thus expire,
In pity flatter'd him to raise it higher.
He with low voice offering his Fatal gift,
“Now Sir, sayes he, you have no Rival left.
“What, in Thessalia, not the Gods could do,
“I give you Pompey and Cornelia too.
“Here's one, and though the other flight did take,
“Six Ships of mine will quickly bring her back.
Achillas then the great Head did expose,
Which still to speak it self seem'd to dispose.
At this new injury some warm Remain
Did in imperfect groans seem to complain.
I thought his open mouth and ghastly look,
Recall'd the Soul which scarce her leave had took;
And his last anger seem'd, with dying Breath,
To Charge the Gods with his Defeat and Death.
Cæsar seem'd Thunder-stricken at this view,
As not resolv'd what to believe or do.
Immoveably on that sad Object ty'd;
He long from us his inward thought did hide,
And I would say, if I durst make a guess,
By what our Nature uses to express:
Some such malignant Pleasure he enjoy'd,
As his offended honour scarce destroy'd.
That the whole World now in his Power lies,
Could not but bring some flattering surprize.
But though a while this Conflict he endur'd,
Yet his great Soul it self soon re-assur'd.
Though he loves Power, yet he Treason hates,
Himself he judges, on himself debates.
Each Joy and Grief at reasons bar appears,
At length resolv'd, he first let fall some Tears.
His Virtues Empire he by force regains,
And Noblest Thoughts by that weak sign explains.
The horrid present from his sight expell'd,
His Eyes and Hands he up to Heaven held.
In a few words their Insolence repress'd,
And after did in Pensive silence rest.
Nor even to his Romans could reply,
But with a heavy sigh and furious Eye.
At last with thirty Cohorts come to Land,
To seize the Gates and Ports he does command.
The Guards he set, and secret Orders sent,
Shew his Distrust, as well as Discontent.
Egypt he speaks of, as a Province won,
And now calls Pompey not a Fos, but Son.
This I observ'd.

Char:
By which the Queen may find
The Just Osiris to her Vows inclin'd:
Whilst with this happy News to her I fly,
Do you preserve her your Fidelity.

Achor.
Ne're doubt it; but here Cæsar comes, go then
Describe the Consternation of our Men:
And whatsoever proves to be their Fate;
Ile first observe, and then to her Relate.

SCENE 2.

Cæsar, Ptolomy, Lepidus, Photinus, Achoreus, Roman and Egyptian Souldiers.
Ptol.
Great Sir, ascend the Throne, and govern Us.

Cæsar.
Do you know Cæsar, and speak to him thus?
What worse could envious Fortune offer me?
Who alike hate a Crown, and Infamy.
This to accept would all my Boast confute,
That Rome did me unjustly persecute:
Rome, who both scorns, and gives Crowns every where,
And nothing sees in Kings, to love or fear;
Nay, at our Birth, does all our Souls enflame,
To sleight the Rank, and to abhor the Name.
This truth you might have learn'd from Pompey, who
If he such Offers lik'd could shun them too.
Both Throne and King had honourd been t'afford
Service to him who had them both restor'd:
So glorious had been even ill success,
In such a Cause, that Triumphs had been less:
And if your Fortune safety had deny'd,
To have bestow'd it, had been Cæsars Pride:
But though you would not own so brave a strife,
What right had you to that Illustrious Life?
Who that rich Blood to wash your hands allow'd,
That to the meanest Roman should have bow'd?
Was it for you Pharsalia's Field I won;
Wherein so many Nations were undone?
And did I purchase at so high a Rate,
That you should be the Arbiters of Fate?
If I in Pompey that could ne're admit,
Shall you escape, o're him assuming it?
How much is my Success abus'd by you,
Who attempt more then ever I durst do?
What Name, think you, will such a blow become,
Which has usurp'd the Sovereignty of Rome?
And in one Person did affront her more
Then could the Asian Massacre before.
Do you imagine I shall e're agree
You would have been more scrupulous for me?
No, had you Pompey here Victorious seen,
My Head to him had such a Present been:
I to my Conquest your submissions owe,
When all Wrongs had pursu'd my Overthrow.
You do adore the Conquerour, not me;
I but enjoy it by Felicity.
Dangerous Friendship! Kindness to be fear'd!
Which turnes with Fortune, and by her is steer'd.
But speak; this Silence does encrease your Sin.

Ptol.
Never hath my Confusion greater been;
And I believe, Sir, you'l allow it me,
Since I, a King born, now a Master see:
Where at my frown each Man did trembling stand,
And every Word of mine was a Command;
I see a New Court, and Another sway,
And I have nothing left, but to obey:
Your very Look abates my Spirits force;
And can it be regain'd by your Discourse?
Judge how I can from such a Trouble cease,
Which my Respects create, and Fears encrease:
And what can an astonish'd Prince express,
Who Anger sees in that Majestique Dress?
And whose Amazements do his Soul subdue,
That Pompey's Death should be reveng'd by You.
Yet I must say, whatever he bestow'd,
We owe you more, then ever him we ow'd:
Your Favour was the first to us exprest,
And all he did, was done at your Request;
He did the Senate move for injur'd Kings
And them that Prayer to our Assistance brings.
But all that he for Egypt could obtain,
Without your Money, Sir, had been in vain:
By that his Rebels our late King subdu'd,
And you have Right to all our Gratitude:
We Pompey as your Friend and Son rever'd,
But when he your Competitour appear'd,
When of your Fortune he suspicious grew,
Tyranny sought and dar'd to fight with you—

Cæsar.
Forbear, your hatreds Thirst his Blood supplies,
Touch not his Glory, let his Life suffice;
Say nothing here that Rome still dares deny,
But plead your Cause without a Calumny.

Ptol.
Then let the Gods be Judges of his Thought;
I only say, That in the Wars last fought,
To which so many Wrongs did you perswade,
Our Vows for your success were onely made:
And since he ever sought your Blood to spill,
I thought his Death a necessary Ill.
For as his groundless Hatred daily grew,
He would, by all wayes, the Dispute renew;
Or if, at length, he fell into your Hand
We fear'd your Mercy would your Right with-stand:
For to that pitch your sense of Honour flies,
As would to Fame your Safety Sacrifice;
Which made me Judge, in so extream an Ill,
We ought to serve you, Sir, against your Will;
My forward Zeal th'occasion did embrace,
Without your leave, and to my own disgrace:
And this you as a Crime in me disclaim,
But nothing done for you deserves that Name:
I stain'd my Hands, your Danger to remove,
Which Act you may enjoy, and diasapprove;
Nay by my Guilt my Merit higher grows;
Since I my Glory gave for your Repose
And by that greatest Victim have procur'd
Your Glory and your Power to be assur'd.

Cæsar.
You employ, Ptolomy, such Crafty Words,
And weak Excuses as your Cause affords;
Your Zeal was false, if 'twere affraid to see
What all Mankind beg'd of the Gods should be:
And did to you such subtilties Convey,
As Stole the Fruit of all my Wars away;
Where Honour me engag'd, and where the end
Was of a Foe subdu'd, to make a Friend;
Where the worst Enemies that I have met,
When they are conquer'd, I as Brother Treat:
And my Ambition only this Design'd,
To Kill their Hate, and force them to be kind;
How blest a Period of the War 't had been,
If the glad World had in one Charriot seen
Pompey and Cæsar at once to have sate
Triumphant over all their former Hate!
These were the Dangers you fear'd should befall;
O fear Ridiculous! and Criminal!
You fear'd my Mercy, but that trouble quit,
And wish it rather; you have need of it:
For I am sure strict Justice would consent
I should appease Rome with your punishment.
Not your Respects, nor your Repentance now,
No nor your Rank, preserves you from that Blow:
Ev'n on your Throne I would revenge your Guilt,
But Cleopatra's Blood must not be spilt:
Wherefore your Flatterers only I condemn;
And must expect you'l do me Right on them:
For what in this I shall observe you do,
Must be the rule of my Esteem for you:
To the great Pompey Altars now erect,
And to him pay, as to the Gods, Respect.
By Sacrifices your Offence expell,
But have a Care you choose your Victims well.
Go then, and whilst you do for this prepare,
I must stay here about another Care.

SCENE 3.

Cæsar, Antonius, Lepidus.
Cæsar.
Antonius, have you this bright Princess seen?

Anton.
Yes, Sir, I have, and shee's a matchless, Queen;
With such proportion Heaven never yet
All Beauties both of Minde and Body knit;
So sweet a Greatness in her Face does shine,
The Noblest Courage must to it resign;
Her Looks and Language with such ease subdue,
If I were Cæsar, I should love her too.

Cæsar.
How was the Offer of my Love receiv'd?

Anton.
As doubted, and yet inwardly believ'd:
She modestly declin'd her highest aims,
And thinks she Merits what she most disclaims.

Cæsar.
But can I hope her love?

Anton.
Can she have yours?
As that your joyes, so this her Crown secures.
To gain that Heart can you believe it hard,
Whose kindness you with Empire can reward?
Then let your Passion all its Doubts disband,
For what can Pompey's Conquerour withstand?
But yet her Fear to her remembrance brings,
How little Rome hath ever valu'd Kings;
And more then that, she dreads Calphurnia's Love;
But both these Rubs your presence will remove,
And your succesful Hope all Mists will break,
If you vouchsafe but for your Self to speak.

Cæsar.
Let's go then, and these needless scruples quit,
Shewing my Heart to Her that wounded it:
Come, let us stay no longer.

Anton.
But first know,
Cornelia is within your Power now:
Septimius brings her, boasting of his Fault,
And thinks by that he hath your Favour bought.
But once ashoar, your Guards (by Orders taught)
No notice took, but hither both have broughht.

Cæsar.
Then let her enter: Ah unwelcome News!
Which my Impatience does so roughly use!
O Heaven! and am I not allow'd to pay
My Love this small remainder of one day?

SCENE 4.

Cæsar, Cornelia, Antonius, Lepidus, Septimius.
Septim.
Sir.—

Cæsar.
Go Septimius, for your Master look,
Cæsar a Traytors presence cannot Brook;
A Roman, who to serve a King could be
Content, when he had Pompey serv'd, and me.

[Exit Septimius.
Cornel.
Cæsar, that envious Fate which I can brave,
Makes me thy Prisoner, but not thy Slave:
Expect not then my Heart should e're afford
To pay thee Homage, or to call thee Lord:
How rude soever Fortune makes her Blow;
I Crassus Widow once, and Pompey's now;
Great Scipio's Daughter, (and what's higher yet)
A Roman, have a Courage still more great;
And of all Stroaks her Cruelty can give,
Nothing can make me blush, but that I live,
And have not follow'd Pompey, when he dy'd;
For though the Means to do it were deny'd,
And Cruel Pity would not let me have
The quick assistance of a Steel or Wave,
Yet I'm asham'd, that after such a Wo,
Grief had not done as much as they could do:
Death had been glorious, and had set me free
As from my Sorrow then, so now from Thee.
Yet I must thank the Gods, though so severe,
That since I must come hither, Thou art here:
That Cæsar reigns here, and not Ptolomy;
And yet, O Heaven! what Stars do govern me?
That some faint kind of satisfaction 'tis,
To meet here with my greatest Enemies;
And into their Hands that I rather fall,
Then into His that ow'd my Husband all.
But of thy Conquest, Cæsar, make no boast,
Which to my single Destiny thou ow'st;
I both my Husbands Fortunes have defac'd,
And twice have caus'd th'whole World to be disgrac'd;
My Nuptial Knot twice ominously ty'd,
Banish'd the Gods from the Uprighter Side;
Happy in misery I had been, if it,
For Romes advantage, had with Thee been Knit;
And on thy House that I could so dispense
All my own Stars malignant influence:
For never think my Hatred can grow less,
Since I the Roman Constancy profess;
And though thy Captive, yet a Heart like mine
Can never stoop to hope for ought from Thine:
Command, but think not to subject my Will,
Remember this, I am Cornelia still.

Cæsar.
O Worthy Widow of a Man so brave!
Whose Courage, Wonder, Fate does pity crave;
Your generous Thoughts do quickly make us know
To whom your Birth, to whom your Love you owe ;
And we may find, by your Hearts glorious frame,
Both to, and from what Families you came;
Young Crassus Soul, and noble Pompey's too,
Whose Virtues Fortune cheated of their due;
The Scipio's Blood, who sav'd our Deities,
Speak in your Tongue, and sparkle in your Eyes;
And Rome her self hath not an ancient Stem,
Whose Wife or Daughter hath more honour'd them:
Would to those Gods your Ancestors once sav'd,
When Hannibal them at their Altars brav'd,
That your dear Hero had declin'd this Port,
And better known a false Barbarians Court;
And had not his uncertain Honour try'd,
But rather on our Ancient love rely'd;
That he had suffered my successful Arms,
Only to vanquish his unjust Allarms;
Then he, without distrusting me, had stay'd
Till he had heard what Cæsar could have said;
And I, in spite of all our former strife,
Would then have beg'd him to accept of Life;
Forget my Conquest, and that Rival Love,
Who fought, but that I might his Equal prove:
Then I, with a content entirely great,
Had Pray'd the Gods to Pardon his Defeat;
And giving me his Friendship to possess,
He had pray'd Rome to Pardon my success.
But since Fate, so Ambitious to destroy,
Hath rob'd the World, and Us, of so much Joy,
Cæsar must strive t'acquit himself to you,
Of what was your Illustrious Husbands due:
Enjoy your self then, with all freedom, here:
Only two dayes my Prisoner appear;
And witness be, how after our Debate,
I shall revere his Name, revenge his Fate;
You this Account to Italy may yield,
What Pride I borrow from Thesallia's Field.
I leave you to your self, and shall Retire;
Lepidus, furnish her to her desire;
As Roman Ladies have respected been,
So Honour her, (that is,) above a Queen.
Madam, command; all shall your Orders wait.

Cor.
O Gods! how many Virtues must I hate.

After the third Act, to Cornelia asleep on a Couch, Pompey's Ghost sings this in Recitative Air.

After this a Military Dance, as the Continuance of her Dream, and then Cornelia starts up, as waken'd in amazement, saying,
What have I seen? and whether is it gone
How great the vision! and how quickly done!
Yet if in Dreams we future things can see,
There's still some Joy laid up in Eate for me,

Exit.