University of Virginia Library

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.—