University of Virginia Library

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?