University of Virginia Library

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.