 | Pompey the Great |  |
11
Act Second
Scene First.
Cleopatra sola.Cleop.
Yes, I do Love, but must not let the flame
Dazle me so as to neglect my Fame;
My heart feels both its Duties, and by turns,
It sighs for Pompey, and for Cæsar burns:
Nor shall the Victors passion make me lose
The sense of what our House to Pompey owes.
She that great Cæsar loves, should in her Soul
Abhorr th'appearance of a Crime so foul;
It were an Injury to his Desire,
To think that Baseness can foment the Fire.
Enter Charmion.
Charm.
VVhat, do you Cæsar love, and yet would raise
Ægypt to trample on Pharsalia's Bays,
Stop the high course of Fate, your Force direct
'Gainst him you Love, and his great Foe protect?
Love is no Tyrant with you I perceive.
Cleop.
VVith their high Birth Princes this good receive,
Their Souls partake their Generous race, and so
Their rudest Passions to their Virtue bow,
And whilst the Dictates of their own high Blood
They dare observe, Illustrious, and all good
That they determine, and the ill we find,
Flows from the Counsel of some Baser Mind;
Thus is great Pompey lost, the King would save
A friend distress'd, Photinus diggs his Grave.
Charm.
Thus then of Cæsar, we in one Person see
At once the Lover and the Enemy.
12
No, thus I Court him, and no Charm there is
Like that of Virtue, o're a Mind like his.
Charm.
VVhat we Desire is easily Believ'd,
And where we Love we soonest are Deceiv'd.
Cleop.
Know then a Queen that holds her Honour dear,
From no brave man, a low neglect can fear,
And whensoe're she owns her high desire,
She meets an Equal if no greater Fire:
But this concerns not me, who long ago
Gave that great Conquerour the fatal Blow.
At Rome the haughty Man became my Slave,
And the first marks of his new Passion gave;
And since that time, each Day, some new express
Brings me his Vows, and tells me his Success,
Through France, through Spain, or wheresoe're he flies,
Fortune attends, and Love Accompanies,
He VVorships me alone, and to my Eyes
Ascribes the Fame of all his Victories,
Oft with that hand all Reaking in the gore
Of Slaughter'd foes, my Pity does implore,
Beating his breast, and with an humble guise
Complains of Chains amidst his Victories,
Vows he no pleasure took on what he had won,
Till unto me the high Success was known,
In whose dear Love, alone, he can receive
The utmost Joys the Conquer'd world can give:
He offers me his Glory, to my Laws
Submits that Heart and Hand the VVorld obeys,
So that my Rigour, like Joves Thunder, can
Make the most VVretched of the Greatest man.
Charm.
VVell, I dare swear your Charms a Power enjoy,
VVhich though they boasts of, they will ne're Employ;
And the great Cæsar shall no Trouble know,
If it can only from your Rigour grow:
But what d' you aim at? or to what pretend?
Another VVife does all fair hopes defend;
The Holy band of Sacred Hymen keep,
His Soul enchain'd, and all such Thoughts asleep.
13
A fresh Divorce so common at this day,
May in my favour take those Lets away.
'Twas so he Marry'd her, and who can blame
Him to return her by the way she came?
Charm.
And who can say but hee'l serve you so too?
Cleop.
That sure my better Stars wo'nt let him do;
And if propitious Heaven but bless my Bed
With any branch of his Illustrious seed,
That happy Union of our Blood will Joyn
Our Interest so, he'll be for ever mine;
And since he hath no Children, the new tye
Will grow upon him, and my Youth supply:
But whatsoe're befall me, if I may,
Ile be his Bride, and though but one short Day
Our Marriage last, the Glory ne're can fall
To have been once the Mighty Queen of all
The Prostrate World; this my Ambition says,
To which, be it right or wrong, my Soul obeys;
I Love the Noble heat, and 'tis alone
The generous passion that a Queen may own.
Charm.
'Tis not the nearest way to Cæsar's Bed,
Not this thought greatness, to save Pompey's Head.
Cleop.
But 'tis the Nobl'st, and I should disdain
The Highest Title with the Smallest Stain;
Then wonder not, I Pompey thus protect,
For so my Honour, and his Worth, direct.
'Tis for his hapless Virtue all I may,
And would to Heaven h'had ta'ne some other way,
And hope some friendly Storm will yet prevent
Upon so Brave a Man our Foul Intent,
Forcing his Vessel from our Faithless shore;
But here comes Achoree will tell us more:
What, is it done? and is our cursed Land,
With the high Blood of the great Pompey stain'd?
14
Aehor.
Madam, as you commanded, to the place
I follow'd 'em, where I in little space
Saw the whole Treason, the Great Pompey bleed,
And every passage of that Barbarous deed;
And since you do command me here proclame
That glorious Death which covers us with shame,
Hearken! admire! and his strange Fate deplore.
His Vessel now in sight of our false Shore,
Had strucken Sail, and he with Joy beheld
Our Gally's coming which his Murderers fill'd,
Thought our brave King toucht with a generous sense
Of the Sad Fortunes of so Great a Prince,
Had sent his Fleet, but when that he perceiv'd
The Armed Boat, he soon was undeceiv'd;
Found the Base man Ingratefull to such Worth,
Instead of Aid had sent his Murderers forth.
Cleop.
How great a Curse Heaven on that Prince does send,
Whom they do Power without Virtue lend!
How much more Blest are they that cannot reach
That height of Mischief which their Natures teach!
Whose Lives and Faults are private, so that Fame
Can lay no lasting Blot upon their name!
But this base Stain will stick upon our House,
Whilst Memphis stands, or Nilus overflows.
But how did Pompey on the Villains look?
Achor.
He was with Wonder, and not Terror strook;
Some little Fear surpriz'd him, but he soon
Recall'd his Temper, and then thought alone,
Regardless of himself, how he might save
His dear Cornelia from the present Grave;
Let us expose alone these Silver hairs,
To the reception that base Land prepares;
Fly then he said, whilst the whole Storm I bear,
And to take Vengeance by thy restless care;
15
With him thy Father, and my Sons thou'lt find;
Yet if they fail, and meet untimely Deaths,
Never despair, whilst the bold Cato breaths.
Thus whilst their Loves contest, the fatal Bark
Makes towards them: Septimius as a mark
Of Service gives his hand, in his own Tongue
Salutes him Emperour, as from the Young
Ægyptian Monarch, Step, great Sir, he said,
Into this Boat, Quick-sands and Shelves have made
Our Ports unsafe for greater Ships; even then
Our Heroe saw the baseness of the Men,
Yet shew'd no Change, but keeping in his face
His wonted Majesty and fearless Grace,
With the same Count'nance towards his Death doth go,
Wherewith he wont whole Kingdoms to bestow.
His Virtue intire attends him in his fate.
Of all the followers of his happier State,
His freed-man Philip then remain'd alone,
From him I learnt what I have now made known.
And this is all, Madam, that he exprest,
My Eyes have seen, my Heart would sigh the rest;
Cæsar himself when his sad Fate he hears,
To such Misfortunes cann't deny his Tears.
Cleop.
O spare not mine, proceed, this one relief,
I have, that nothing can increase my grief.
Achor.
Far off we saw him coming, and not one
Of all that Troop but his Discourse did shun;
Which strange contempt made him too well perceive,
The Entertainment he should soon receive:
At length they came to Land, and as he stept
A shore, Achillas that base Traitor leapt
Forth of the Boat, and the first Wound he made.
Then all at once basely his Life invade;
All of one Land, degenerate Sons of Rome,
That should his Guard his Murderers become,
Achillas's self that set the Villains on,
Stood yet amaz'd to see't so boldly done.
16
Ye Gods that give the World to civil War,
When ye Revenge his Death our City Spare;
Find out the Hands, and punish not the Town,
The crime of Memphis was by Romans done.
But how does he receive their Treachearous blows?
Achor.
Part of his Robe over his Face he throws,
And without seeing it his Fate obey'd,
Disdain'd the Heav'ns that had his cause betray'd,
To look at then, lest Dying he might seem,
Or Aid, or Vengeance to implore of them;
No feeble part though of his failing breath
Put shew'd him worthy of a Nobler Death:
His Head cut off, is by the Villains shew'n,
Like some proud Trophie when a Battels won,
And his Dead Body to the Seas expos'd,
Floats now at randome in no Urn inclos'd;
At such a sight the poor Cornelia lost—
Cleop.
Great Gods, in what Distraction was she Tost?
Achor.
Her Mournfull hands to cruel Heaven she lifts,
Yet pays Subbmission to its hidden Drifts,
And then again o'recome with suddain grief,
Falls in a Sound, and seems to hate Relief;
Her men the while plying the Oars amain,
With frighted haste the Milder Sea regain:
But yet I fear they cannot scape, for base
Septimius does them with six Vessels chace,
VVho to compleat his Crime endeavours shews,
And Pompey even after Death persues.
Cleop.
Unequall'd Villains! O! Accursed brood!
Are they not Glutted with that Hero's Blood,
That thus his dearer half they do persue,
Forgetting all that to her Sex is due?
Achor.
Mean while Achillas doth in Triumph bring
His horrid Present to our Faithless King;
The people as he goes astonisht mourn,
And from the hated sight their Faces turn,
A general horrour doth their Souls invade,
Some fear the Ground will open, and be made
17
To every one does some strange Sight appear,
So does the Guilt distract them, and present
Unto their Thoughts th'excess of Punishment;
His freed-man Philip in a Servants mind,
Shews yet a Courage of the Noblest kind,
He follows his Dead Lord, and watches where
Or to what Shore the Angry main will bear
The Headless Trunck, that he may duely burn,
And put his Sacred Ashes, in an Urn;
But as toward Africk they Cornelia chase,
Cæsar appears, and almost hides the face
Of spacious Neptune with his Numerous Fleet.
Cleop.
It must be he, in that we plainly see't.
Tremble ye Villains of this impious Land,
Cleopatra now holds Thunder in her hand,
May throw't on whom she will, Cæsar is come,
She is your Queen, her angry Breath your Doom.
Let us admire the while, th'uncertain state
Of human greatness, and by Pompey's fate
Learn what our own may be: This Prince that sway'd
Th'Imperial Senate, whom the world Obey'd,
Whom Fortune seem'd to have advanc'd above
Her own proud reach, who did more terrour move
In Rome than Loudest Thunder, whom she saw
Three times her proud Triumphal Chariots draw,
Who in these last extremes and falling stare
Both Consulls had Companions of his Fate,
When Fortune once neglected him, we see
Ægyptian Monsters of his Head decree,
We see a Photin and Achillas straight
The great Disposers of the highest Fate,
A King that from his Hands a Crown receives,
Him to the hands of Basest Villains gives;
So Pompey falls, and so perhaps one Day,
The now Victorious and great Cæsar may:
But O ye powerfull Gods that see my Tears,
Assist my Wishes, and avert my Fears.
18
Madam, the King is coming?
[Enter Ptolomey, Photinus.
Ptolom.
Do you know the Honour we are like to have?
Cleop.
Yes, Cæsar's come, I'm no more Photin's Slave.
Ptolom.
Sister, you always hate that worthy Man.
Cleop.
No, but I now despise the worst he can.
Ptolom.
Of what design of his can you complain?
Cleop.
Where we have suffer'd much, fears are not Vain;
So great a States-man may do any thing,
When he's assisted by a Credulous King.
Ptolom.
I follow his advice, and know 'tis good.
Cleop.
I fear th'Effects, and see it spares no Blood.
Ptolom.
For common safety, all things Lawfull are.
Cleop.
That kind of Justice, I too Justly fear:
It cost me late my Interest in the Throne,
And Pompey's Head to whom you owe your Crown.
Ptolom.
He never plaid a greater States-mans part,
Cæsar to gain there was no other Art;
You see his haste, and our Disorder'd Town,
Before it could have Arm'd, had been O'rethrown,
But safely now to his Victorious hand,
Your Heart I offer, and my own Command.
Cleop.
Make your own offers, I shall mine propound,
You need not thus our Interests confound.
Ptolom.
They are but one, since of one Blood we be.
Cleop.
You might as well say two of one Degree,
Being Soveraigns both, and yet you'l shortly learn
There is some difference in our concern.
Ptolom.
Yes Sister, for my small Dominion ends
In narrow Bounds, nor beyond Nile pretends,
But you are Cæsar's Queen, and may command
O're Ganges, Tagus, and the farthest Land.
Cleop.
I have Ambition, but 'tis so confin'd,
That though it Dazels me I am not Blind.
Talk not to me of Tagus nor of Ganges,
I know my Right, and care not for your Changes.
Ptolom.
Y'have an advantage, and you'l use't I find.
Cleop.
I'm sure if I do'nt I'm not of your mind.
[Exit.
19
I follow'd thy advice, yet all my Art,
And lowest Flattery, but made her start
Into a farther Pride, untill at last
Tyr'd with such Scorn my Rage had like t'have past
All bounds, and neither minding Cæsar nor his force,
With her high Pride have taken such a Course,
That spight of all her Braggs she sooner might
Implore of Pompey than of him a right;
She talks as though sh' already were a Queen,
And if he do indulge her Pride and Spleen,
And she o're him her boasted Empire have,
Her Brother and her King must be her Slave;
But lets prevent her Rage, 'tis poor to wait,
And tamely bear the certain stroaks of Fate;
Lets put an end to her too long disdain,
Lets from her take the Means to Please and Reign.
What? shall my Scepter and undoubted Right,
So long maintain'd, a Wanton smile requite?
Photin.
Sir, give him no pretence to rend your Crown
From off your Head, and joyn it to his own;
That haughty Mind which has no other care
But to bring Cruel Slavery and Warr
Where e're he comes, Transported with the Rage
Which such a loss must certainly engage
A Real Lover in, though you but Justice do,
Will take th'occasion to become your Foe,
And then to Colour o're his Thirst of Spoil,
Your brave Revenge will a foul Murder style.
Ptolom.
If she once see him she will have the Crown.
Photin.
And if she don't, y'are certainly undone.
Ptolom.
I'le pluck her with me, since I needs must fall.
Photin.
Preserve your self I pray, if that be all.
Ptolom.
What! in my Crown to see her proudly Shine?
Scepter, if thou must leave these hands of mine,
Pass, pass, unto the Mighty Conquerours.
Photin.
Sir, you will better wrest it out of hers.
What ever Flames he for a while may show,
Fear not, he shortly must begone we know;
20
But what his High designs will soon Controul,
Iberia, Africa, are yet possest
By the Young Pompeys and that Interest,
So great a General would much mistake
No other use of his Success to make,
Than to give Leisure to such Daring sprights,
To be again in posture for new Fights.
Ptolom.
What human Force can long oppose that Hand,
Which neither Rome nor Pompey could withstand?
And then with Lovers haste he will return,
And we too late our lost Occasion Mourn.
Photin.
Soon as he has that Party quite o'rethrown,
He must to Rome there to secure his own;
Change at his Will the Model of the State,
Enjoy the Bounty of Indulgent Fate,
And when he's there, what is't you may not do?
But for a while you must to Cæsar bow,
Constrain your self to please him, we shall find
A time to settle all things to your Mind;
Give freely to his hands your Power and Crown,
And to his high Disposal leave your Throne;
What ever hopes her haughty Mind may fill,
I know he must observe your Fathers will;
Besides, the late great Service you have done,
Bids you be confident of what's your own;
But whatso'ere he do's, seem to comply,
Extoll his Judgment, praise his Equity,
Till he begon at least, and when we see
That time and place with our Designs agree,
We will revenge our selves, and she shall find
The fatal Error of her haughty Mind.
Ptolom.
Thou hast restor'd me to my Life and Crown;
The greatest Blessings that the Gods send down
On Princes, are such Counsellours; lets go
Dear Atlas of my Throne, to meet our Foe
With all our Fleet, present him all we have,
That we may all again intire Receive.
| Pompey the Great | |