 | Pompey the Great |  |
Scene the Second.
Ptolomey, Cleopatra, Charmion.Cleop.
Brother, with Cæsar I have done my best
To make your Peace, and Calm his Angry breast.
Ptolom.
'Twas nobly done, I could have hop'd no more,
Though I had us'd you like your Self before;
But your brave Lover Sister left you soon.
Cleop.
Some little Tumult raised in the Town,
Lest that their Rage and Numbers should encrease
He would himself secure the publique Peace,
And I was glad that I had time to tell
This happy News, since none can do't so well;
I saw great Cæsars brow without a frown,
You need not fear your Person nor your Crown,
Cæsars so much your Friend, that for your sake
He's mov'd to Pity, the advice you take
Of such base Counsel, who in everything
Will make ye more a Tyrant than a King,
These men Composed of the Coursest Earth,
Whose Souls are baser than their Obscure Birth,
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Cloath 'em with Purple, but 'tis all in Vain,
Their Native Baseness is a foul Disease
Which none can Cure, and such Men as these
Faintly let fall, when Rais'd to high Commands,
The Weighty Scepters from their Trembling hands.
Ptolom.
Sister, 'tis true, and now I find too late,
How ill I chose my Ministers of State;
Had I left them, and been Advis'd by you,
I'd Liv'd with Glory as my Equals do,
And had deserv'd the Kindness which you still
Retain for me, though I have us'd you Ill;
My Palace then had been the Happy place,
VVhere Cæsar might his Conquer'd Son Imbrace,
And when the World had found all Troubles cease,
She'd been oblig'd to Ægypt for her Peace;
I as a Friend to both, had by the Laws
Of Ægypt Judg'd of the great Roman Cause;
But since what's past can now find no redress,
To you I freely may my Griefs express,
I us'd you Ill, and your Revenge was shewn
In the preserving both my Life and Crown:
Subdue your Self still in this Noble strife,
And save Photinus and Achillas Life,
They merit Death since they Offended you,
But then my Reputation suffers too;
If for my Crimes these VVorthless VVretches Dye,
I shall Live Heir to all their Infamy;
Oblige me, Sister, let your Eyes bright Charms
Melt the Stern man like Lightning through his Arms,
That I to you may Owe with gratefull shame,
My Life, my Kingdome, and what's more, my Fame.
Cleop.
VVere it in me to Punish or Forgive,
My Scorn is great enough to let them Live,
But to solicit Cæsar 'twill be Vain,
Since by their Hands Pompey was basely Slain;
His Blood with Cæsar's Justice will oppose
This strange Desire of mine to save my Foes;
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He the Discourse to something else did VVave,
And such a Kind of careless Cunning us'd,
My Prayer was neither Suffer'd nor Refus'd;
But now at your Request I'le fully prove,
VVhat Interest I have in Cæsar's Love,
And I dare Hope—
Ptolom.
—He comes, let me begone,
You'l have more Power when you are alone,
My presence might another Passion move,
I'le wholly leave him to your Self and Love.
Exeunt.
| Pompey the Great | |