University of Virginia Library

ACT. 4.

SCEN 1.

Ptolomy, Achillas, Photinus.
Ptol.
What? with that Hand, and with that Sword which had
A Victim of th'unhappy Pompey made,
Saw you Septimius, fled from Cæsars hate,
Give such a bloody Period to his Fate?

Achil.
He's Dead, Sir, and by that you may collect,
What shame (forseen by him) you must expect:

Photin.
You may by this slow anger know,
The violent does quickly come and goe:
But the consider'd Indignation grows
Stronger by Age, and gives the fiercer Blows;
In vain you hope his Fury to asswage,
Who now secure does Politickly rage;
He safely for his Fame concern'd appears,
Pompey, alive, abhor'd; he dead reveres:
And of his Slaughter by this Art doth choose,
To act the vengeance, and yet make the use.

Ptol.
Had I believ'd Thee, I had never known
A Master here, nor been without a Throne:
“But still with this Imprudence Kings are curst,
“To hear too much Advice, and choose the worst;
“At the Pits brink Fate does their Reason bind;
“Or if some hint they of their Danger find,
“Yet that false Light amiss their Judgement steers,
“Plunges them in, and then it disappears.

Pho.
I must confess I Cæsar did mistake,
Since such a Service he a Crime does make:
But yet his side hath streams, and those alone
Can expiate your fault, and fix your Throne.
I no more say, you silently should bear,
And your Revenge, till he be gone, defer:
No, I a better Remedy esteem,
To justifie his Rivals Death on him.
When you the First Act by the last make good,
And Cæsar's shed, as well as Pompey's Blood,
Rome will no difference in her Tyrants know,
But will to you, from both, her Freedom owe.

Ptol.
Yes, Yes, to this all reasons do perswade;
Let's fear no more the Greatness we have made;
Cæsar shall still from Us receive his Doom,
And twice in one day wee'l dispose of Rome;
As Bondage first, let's Freedom next bestow;
Let not thy Actions, Cæsar, swell Thee so;
But call to mind what thou hast seen me do;
Pompey was Mortal, and so thou art too;
Thou envy'dst him, for his exceeding thee,
And I think, thou hast no more Lives, then he;
Thy own Compassion for my Fate does shew
That thy Heart may be Penetrable too:
Then let thy Justice threaten as it please,
'Tis I, must with thy ruine, Rome appease;
And of that Cruel Mercy Vengeance take,
Which spares a King, but for his Sisters sake.
My Life and Power shall not exposed be
To her resentment, or thy Levity;
Lest thou, to morrow, should'st at such a Rate
Reward her Love, or else revenge her Hate:
More noble Maxims shall my fears expell;
Thou bad'st me once to choose my Victims well,
And my Obedience thou in this shalt see,
Who know no Victim worthier then thee,
Nor th'Immolation of whose Blood will draw
Better Acceptance from thy Son in Law.
But vainly, Friends, we thus foment our Rage,
Unless we knew, what Strength we could engage;
All this may be unprofitable hear,
The Tyrants Forces being here so great;
But of our Power let us be first agreed,
And in what time and method to proceed.

Achil.
We may do much, Sir, in our present State,
Two miles from hence six thousand Souldiers wait;
Which I, foreseeing some new Discontents,
Have kept in readiness, for all Events;
Cæsar with all his Arts could not foresee
That underneath this Town a Vault should be,
By which this night we to the Palace may
Our Men with Ease, and without Noise convey;
T'assult his Life by open force alone,
Would be the onely way to lose your Own:
We must surprize him, and act our design,
When he is Drunk with Pleasure, Love and Wine.
The People are all ours; for when he made
His entry, Horrour did their Souls invade;
When with a Pomp so arrogantly grave,
His Fasces did our Royal Ensigns brave;
I mark'd what Rage at that Injurious view,
From their incensed Eyes, like sparkles, flew;
And they so much did with their fury strive,
That your least Countenance may it revive.
Septimius Souldiers fill'd with greater hate,
Struck with the Terrour of their Leaders Fate,
Seek nothing but revenge on him, who them
Did, in their Captains Person, so contemn.

Ptol.
But what way to approach him can be found
If at the Feast his Guards do him surround?

Photin.
Cornelia's Men, who have already known
Among your Romans Kinred of their own,
Seem to perswade us they would help afford
To Sacrifice their Tyrant, to their Lord;
Nay, have assur'd it, and much better may
Then we, to Cæsar the first stabs convey;
His Clemency (not only false but vain)
Which Courts Cornelia, that He Rome may gain,
Will to his Person give them such access,
As may assure our Plot of a success.
But Cleopatra comes; to Her appear
Only possess'd with Weakness, and with Fear:
Let us withdraw, Sir, for you know that we
Are Objects she will much abhor to see.

Ptol.
Go wait me.—

SCENE 2.

Ptolomy, Cleopatra:
Cleop:
Brother, I have Cæsar seen.
And have to him your Intercessour been.

Ptol.
I never could expect an Act less kind
From you who bear so generous a Mind.
But your great Lover quickly from you went.

Cleop.
'Twas to the Town, t'appease some discontent,
Which he was told had newly raised been
Betwixt the Souldier and the Citizen:
Whilst I with joyful haste come to assure
You, that your Life and Kingdom were secure;
Th'Illustrious Cæsar on the Course you took
Does with less anger then Compassion look,
He pities you, who such vile States-men heard,
As make their Kings not to be lov'd, but fear'd;
Whose Souls the baseness of their Birth confess,
And who in vain great Dignities possess:
For Slavish Spirits cannot guide the Helm;
Those too much Power would quickly overwhelm,
That hand, whose Crimes alone do purchase Fear,
Will soon let fall a Weight it cannot bear.

Ptol.
Those Truths, and my ill Fate do me perswade
How bad a choice of Counsellours I made:
For had I acted Honourable things,
I had as Glorious been, as other Kings;
And better merited the Love you bear
A Brother, so unworthy of your Care;
Cæsar and Pompey had been here agreed,
And the Worlds Peace in Egypt been decreed;
Who her own Prince a friend to both had seen;
Nay, he (perhaps) an Arbiter had been.
But since to call this back is past our Art,
Let me discharge to you my Troubled heart;
You, that for all the Wrongs that I have done,
Could yet Preserve me both my Life and Crown;
Be truly great, and vanquish all your Hate,
By changing Photin's and Achilla's Fate.
For their offending you, their Death is due,
But that my Glory suffers in it too;
If for their Kings Crimes they should punish'd be,
The Infamy would wholly light on me;
Cæsar through them wounds me, their's is my Pain
For my sake, therefore, your Just Hate restrain:
Your heart is Noble, and what pleasure then
Is th'abject Blood of two unhappy Men?
Let me owe all to you, who Cæsar charm,
And, with a Look, his Anger can disarm,

Cleop.
Were but their Life and Death in me to give,
My scorn is great enough to let them live:
But I with Cæsar little can prevail,
When Pompey's Blood lies in the other scale;
I boast no Power to Dispose his will,
For I have spoke, and he hath shun'd it still,
And turning quickly to some new Affair,
He neither does refuse, nor grant my Prayer:
Yet Ile once more on that harsh Theam proceed,
In hope a New attempt may better speed;
And Ile believe.—

Ptol.
He comes, let me be gone,
Lest I should chance to draw his anger on;
My presence may enflame what t'would make less,
And you alone, may act with more success.

SCENE 3.

Cæsar, Cleopatra, Antonius, Lepidus, Charmion, Achoreus, and Romans.
Cæsar.
The City now is quiet, Beauteous Queen,
Which had alarm'd with little reason been;
Nor need they fear the troublesome event
Of Souldiers Pride, or Peoples Discontent:
But O great Gods! when absent from your Eyes
A greater Tumult did within me Rise;
When these unwelcome Cares snatcht me from you,
My heart, ev'n with my Grandeur, angry grew;
And I my own Renown began to hate,
Since it my parting did necessitate:
But I forgave all to the single Thought
How much advantage to my Love it brought:
For 'tis to that I owe the noble Hope
Which to my Flame does give so fair a scope,
And perswades Cæsar that his Heart may prove
Not utterly unworthy of your Love,
And that he may pretend to that, since he
Nothing above him, but the Gods, can see.
Yes Queen; if in the World a Man there were
That with more glory could your fetters bear
Or if there were a Throne, wherein you might
By Conquering its King, appear more bright.
Less for his Throne would I the Man pursue,
Then to dispute the Right of serving you.
'Twas to acquire that valuable Right,
That my Ambitious Arm did always fight.
And in Pharsalia rather my Sword drew
To Preserve that, then Pompey to subdue.
I Conquer'd, and the God of Battles, less
Then your bright Eyes, afforded me success.
They rais'd my Courage, and my hand did sway,
And I owe them that memorable day.
As the effect of heat by them inspir'd,
For when your beauties had my passion fir'd,
That a return might your great Soul become,
They made me Master of the World and Rome.
I would ennoble that high stile I wear,
By the Addition of your Prisoner.
And shall most happy be, if you think fit
That Title to esteem, and this permit.

Cleop.
I know how much I to my fortune owe,
Which this excess of Honour does bestow.
Nor will from you my inward thoughts conceal
Since I know both, you, and my self, so well.
Your Love did in my earliest Youth appear,
And I my Scepter as your Present wear:
I twice receiv'd my Kingdom from your Hand,
And after that, can I your Love withstand?
No, Sir, my Heart cannot resist your siege,
Who so much merit, and so much Oblige.
But yet my Birth, my Rank, and the Command
Which I have now regain'd in Egypts Land,
The Scepter, by your Hand restor'd to mine,
Do all against my innocent Hopes combine;
To my desires injurious they have been,
And lessen me, by making me a Queen:
For if Rome still be as she was before,
T'ascend a Throne will but debase me more;
These Marks of Honour will be but my Shame
And Ruine my Pretences to your Flame:
But yet, methinks, the Power you enjoy,
Might all my Fears with ease enough destroy,
And I would hope, that such a Man as you
May justly Romes Capriciousness subdue,
And her unjust aversion for a Throne
She might see cause, for your sake, to disown:
I know that you can greater things effect,
And from your Promise Wonders I expect;
You in Pharsalia did much greater do,
And I invoke no other Gods but You.

Cæsar.
There's nothing humane can my Love withstand;
'Tis but the over-running Affricks Land,
To shew my Standards to the rest of those,
Who did me with so ill a Fate oppose;
And when Rome can no more of them Advance,
She will be forc'd to study Complaisance:
And you shall see her with a solemn State,
At your Feet sacrifice her Pride and Hate:
Nay, I must have her, at your Royal Seat,
In my behalf, your Favour to entreat;
And with so much Respect these Beauties view,
That she young Cæsar's shall request from you;
This is the only Fortune I desire,
And all to which my Lawrels do aspire:
How blest were my Condition, if I might
Obtain those Wreaths, and still enjoy your sight!
But yet my Passion its own harm procures,
For I must quit you, if I will be yours;
While there are flying Foes, I must pursue,
That I may them defeat, and merit you.
To bear that absence therefore, suffer me
To take such Courage from the Charmes I see,
That frighted Nations may, at Cæsars name,
Say, He but came, and saw, and overcame.

Cleop.
This is too much, but if I this abuse,
The fault which you create you must excuse:
You did my Crown, and perhaps Life restore,
And yet your Love (I trust) will grant me more;
And I Conjure you, by its strongest Charms,
By that great Fortune which attends your Arms,
By all my hopes, and all your high Desert,
Did not in Blood the Bounties you impart;
Great Sir, forgive those that have Guilty been,
Or else by that, let me appear a Queen;
Achillas and Photinus blood disdain,
For they endure enough to see me reign;
And their Offence—

Cæsar.
Ah! by some other way
Assure your self how much my Will you sway,
As you Rule me, if I might you request,
You better should imploy your Interest;
Govern your Cæsar, as a lawful Queen,
And make him not Partaker of their Sin:
For your sake only, I the King durst spare;
'Twas love alone that—

SCENE 4.

To them Cornelia.
Cornel.
Cæsar, have a Care.
For Traytors have against thy Life Combin'd,
And sworn thy Head shall be to Pompey's Joyn'd.
If to prevent them thou shouldst be remiss,
Thy Blood will speedily be mixt with his.
If thou my Slaves examine, thou may'st know,
The Author, Order, and the Actor too.
I yield them thee;

Cæsar.
O truly Roman Heart!
And Worthy him of whom you were a part!
His Soul, which sees from its exalted State,
How I endeavour to Revenge his fate,
Forgets his hate, and is become so kind,
To save my Life by what he left behind.
Whatever Treason could to Pompey do,
Yet he does still subsist, and act in you:
And prompts you to a thing so brave, that he
May vanquish me in generosity.

Cornel.
Cæsar, thou art deceiv'd in my intent,
If thou think'st Hate yields to acknowledgment:
No, Pompey's blood must all commerce deny,
Betwixt his Widow and his Enemy.
And I thy offer'd Freedom would enjoy,
That to thy Ruine I might it employ.
Nay, I shall make new business for thy Sword,
If thou dar'st be so just to keep thy word.
But though so much on thy Destruction bent,
Yet I thy Murther would as much prevent.
I have thy Death with too much Justice sought,
That it should now be with a Treason bought.
Who knows and suffers, does partake the guilt:
Nor should thy blood be infamously spilt.
But when my Husbands Sons, and Kinred do
Attempt thy death, then I shall wish it too.
And that some brave Arm, which I shall excite,
May in the Field, and in thy Armies sight,
Offer thee Nobly to that Hero's Ghost,
In whose Revenge thou so much zeal bestow'st?
My restless thirst for such a day as this,
By thy untimely fall its end would miss.
But whatsoe're hopes from abroad I may
Receive, yet I am Rack'd by their delay.
“For distant satisfaction is half lost:
“And long expected joys too dearly cost.
I shall not wander on the Affrick Strands;
To seek the vengeance ready in thy hands,
Which does the head it Threatens best befit:
For I could thine have had instead of it;
But that my hatred saw the difference great,
Betwixt my Husbands murther and defeat:
And I an earlier Punishment would see
On their Presumption, then thy Victory.
This is Romes wish, Whose Venerable Brow
To this affront, too just a Blush would owe:
If her two Noblest heads (should after all
Her Trumphs) with so much dishonour fall.
She, upon whom thou never couldst impose,
Would sooner punish Criminals, then Foes.
Her liberty would a misfortune grow,
If upon Tiber Nile should it bestow.
None but a Roman could her Master be,
And but a Roman none should set her free.
Here thou wouldst fall to her unsacrific'd:
And wouldst be murther'd so, but not chastis'd.
Nor would succeding Tyrants frighted be,
For the Example too would dye with Thee.
Revenge her now on Egypts wrong, and I
Will her revenge upon Pharsalia try.
Adieu, no time in this should wasted be,
Go then, and boast I once made vows for thee.

SCENE 5.

Cæsar, Cleopatra, Antonius, Lepidus, Achoræus, Charmion.
Cæsar.
Her Virtue, and their Crime, alike amaze,
Queen, you perceive for whom your goodness prayes.

Cleop.
That, now, no more against your Justice fights
Go (Sir) Revenge all violated Rights:
My ruine they much more then yours desire:
The Traytors do against my Right Conspire.
As my support, against you they design:
And by your death would make their way to mine.
But though all be to my anger known,
Yes 'tis my Brother still that leads them on.
Do you know that, Sir, and may I obtain,
It your deserved fury may restrain?

Cæsar.
Yes, Ile remember, your heart is so great,
That for his Births sake, you his Crime forget.
Adieu, fear nothing, for these are not foes
That can the fortune of my Arms oppose.
Them, and their Party, I shall quickly rout,
When I to them but Whips and Racks bring out:
They shall not Souldiers, but Tormentors see,
And now my Axes shall my Ensigns be.
Exit Cæsar.

Cleop.
Dear Achoreus, after Cæsar go,
With him prevent my Threatned overthrow.
And when he punishes our worthless Foes,
Make him remember what his promise ows.
Observe the King, when he in fight appears,
And spare his blood, that you may spare my tears.

Achor.
Madam, his fortune shall no sorrow need,
If all my Care and service can succeed.

After the fourth Act, Cleopatra sits hearkening to this Song.