 | Pompey the Great |  |
Scene the Third.
Antonius
, have you Ægypts Princess seen?
Anton.
Yes, and all wonders met in that fair Queen,
Heav'n never yet in such a Union Joyn'd
All Beauties Charms with an Accomplish'd mind;
Her Look with a sweet Majesty replete,
The coldest Hearts invades with Conquering heat,
Her Wit surprizes, and her bright Eyes so,
That were I Cæsar, I should Love her too.
Cæsar.
But how does she our offer'd Love receive?
Anton.
As if she durst not, but yet did believe;
With Weak Denials she invites to sue,
And seems not worthy, though she thinks it due.
Cæsar.
Shall I prevail?
Anton.
What doubt if you Command
Her, that Expects a Scepter from your Hand?
How should your Passion fear to be repell'd?
What can oppose him that has Pompey quell'd?
All the Objection that her Caution brings,
Is the Contempt that Romans have of Kings;
Something she's troubl'd with Calphurnia too,
But all will Vanish at the sight of you,
To pleasing Hopes these Fears will soon give place,
When you shall Woo her with a Conquerours Grace.
Cæsar.
Lets go and free her from this Trivial fear,
By making Cæsars matchless Love appear;
Come, lets away.
Anton.
Before you wait on her
Know that Cornelia is your Prisoner,
Brought by Septimius, whom his late Crimes raise
To great Expectance of your thanks and praise;
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Led them tow'rds you without Expressing more.
Cæsar.
She must come in; these News untimely stay
Impatient hopes with Languishing delay;
O the Excess of Greatness that Imploys
Our Life in Business, and Deferrs our Joys.
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