 | Antony and Cleopatra |  |
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ACT. III.
Scene the First.
Cæsars Tents.Enter Cæsar, Mecœnas, Agrippa.
Cæsar.
The Asians now with double Taxes prest,
His slothful Days and drunken Nights detest;
Buffoons and Players chiefly have his ear:
He dares not the free tongues of Romans hear.
To marry Whores to Fencers is his sport,
And with their Issue throng his loathed Court.
“Now lewd Cytheris has a greater Train,
Than his own Mother or his Wife maintain.
From such a Foe as this what can we fear!
In whom all symptoms of lost pow'r appear.
Mecœn.
The flatt'ring Greeks his easie nature praise;
But on the rest he heavy burthens lays.
In drunken Bounty, for a riotous treat,
He gave his Fav'rite Cook a spacious Street:
Men say no hour dares move without its Feast,
Which is for their fantastick pallats drest.
Now must the rising Sun their Riot view,
Which the next day prevents the Evening dew.
“In every draught they some rich Gem consume,
“And spend a private Fortune in one Room.
Cæs.
Empire, of pains and virtue, the slow fruit,
How ill dost thou with vice and riot suit?
Cinna was bloody, Marius unjust,
Tarquin and Appius raging in their Lust:
Lucullus was luxurious, loud his ease,
Thus on each man his single vice did seize!
But all these faults are in Antonius met.
Mecœn.
His Court with Asian Flatt'rers is fill'd,
And Lying Greeks the only Servants held.
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Whilst Romans only are thought fit to fight.
Agrip.
Example is a living Law, whose sway,
Men more than all the written Laws obey.
Princes of all men therefore shou'd take care,
How in their manners they the Crowd ensnare.
But above all his dotage on the Queen
Employs my wonder: was it ever seen
A Woman rul'd an Emperor till now?
What Horse the Mare, what Bull obeys the Cow?
Nature that Monster Love does disavow:
In all her kinds only fantastick Man
Finds ways of folly which no other can.
Mecœn.
He that will vilify the pow'r of Love,
In the first place let him our Gods reprove,
Who oft their heavenly Mansions have forsook,
And the mean shapes of Birds and Beasts have took,
To pursue Mortals in an amorous way,
And form their glorious Image in our clay.
Agrip.
The God that lov'd, what Nymph yet ever rul'd?
He was again a God, his Lust once cool'd:
Had womens will our good or ill procur'd,
The World had never half so long endur'd.
The high embrace fill'd all their spacious thought,
And proofs of kindness were no farther sought.
Cæs.
Th'unable sure, the ugly, or the old,
First in affairs of Love, made use of gold.
Then Princes to out-bid 'em threw in pow'r,
Now heart for heart's the Traffick of the Poor.
Agrip.
Women should sit like idle Passengers,
While the tall Ship some able Seamen steers.
Wisdom, high Courage, Piety are vain,
If o're the Wise and brave a Woman reign,
And this Antonius conduct has made plain.
Cæs.
'Tis time the insur'd World we should redeem
From a mans sway so lost in her esteem.
Agrip.
What is success in Arms if Conqu'ring Rome
By Troops of Asian Vices be o'recome.
Cæs.
To set all right I must be absolute;
My least commands None daring to dispute;
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But from a pow'r as able to oppress;
Whilst for the publick good my pow'r I use,
Seeing my end Men will the means excuse.
Th'Omnipotence of Gods, who thinks too great,
Since men below they with compassion treat.
Agrip.
But envy does all mortal pow'r attend:
Men fear the Means, and still suspect the end.
He that can hurt, who answers but he will:
Men pass in fear by sleeping Lyons still.
Empire is safest moderately great,
And death unseen does on Ambition wait.
Cæs.
He that can do no ill, can do no good,
And if in one, in both may be withstood.
The actions of a Tyrant I abhor,
But as things stand I cannot want the pow'r.
Agrip.
Our Laws the art of ruling best contain;
Mecœn.
Fools find it there, wise Princes in their Brain.
Agrip.
Pow'r long possest few Princes care to use,
But give it up for others to abuse:
From Phœbus self the World no hazard run,
But cou'd not bear one day his Vent'rous Son:
He through new wayes the flaming Chariot drove,
And all was fear below, and fire above.
Cæs.
I to no Phaeton will the reins commit,
Nor in inglorious ease a moment sit:
Ile see the Common-wealth no mischief take,
And do and suffer all things for her sake.
Mecœn.
Rome on your vertue leans her aged head,
As old Anchises on Æneas did,
And thinks she may with ease when propt by you.
Factions at Home, and Foes abroad subdue.
You, whom the general voice of Rome does hold,
Bolder than Youth, and wiser than the Old.
Agrip.
The name of Common-wealth is popular,
And every Cæsar may his Brutus fear.
Mecæn.
Romans that barb'rous Murder so reveng'd,
It shews the thoughts of a Republick chang'd.
Cæs.
Men die of Agues, too much heat or cold,
And others grow ridiculous old.
Ex. Cæs. Oct. Mec. manet Agrip.
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Ile seize the Empire, which Ile die or hold.
Agrip.
Born under Kings our Father freedom sought,
And with their blood the Godlike treasure bought,
We their vile issue in our chains delight,
And born to freedom for our Tyrants fight.
Exit. Agrip.
Scene the Second.
The Palace.Enter Antonius, Canidius, Photinus.
Can.
For what Sir, must we then prepare?
Thyreus! does he bring us Peace or War?
Anto.
He offers Peace, but upon terms so high,
At the great rate I'd not an Empire buy:
My former gifts I meanly must resume,
And give accounts of all my act to Rome.
My faithful friends from their Commands remove,
And place such as the Senate shall approve.
Canid.
True friends displac't will pardon your distress
And thô your pow'r—
Anto.
A Pageant pow'r and Empire but in show—
True Empire only those great Souls enjoy,
Who can in what, and whom they please employ,
And without leave from Rome a Crown bestow,
Exalt a Friend, and trample on a Foe:
This by your Love and Arms I once attchiev'd,
Nor will be of it but by Arms depriv'd.
Can.
Ambition is the Dropsey of the Soul,
Whose thirst we must not yield to but controul.
Anto.
Some Drudg of State may a less pow'r esteem,
And ruling many, let a few rule him;
Mean Slave to them, high Tyrant to the rest,
With fear and pride at once defile his breast:
By Hercules I won't, if any here
Think that a Course too desp'rate I steer,
Let him retire, and his own fears obey.
Canid.
The Gods well know my fears are all for you,
And your most daring thoughts shall find me true:
It is not Cæsar, nor our blow at Sea,
That to these terms incline me to agree;
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And that your Ryots here and Loves have cost.
Ant.
Cæsar and I you know were never friends,
And only hung together for our ends:
Yet in his Cause this Tongue an Army rais'd,
And made Rome hate that deed she late had prais'd.
Brutus and Cassius felt the deadly sting;
And all to make Octavius more than King.
So blindly did I act, so little see,
Into the dark Decrees of Destiny.
The Common-wealth for him I overthrew,
Now in effect he claims my Empire too.
Phot.
The Shell he leaves, the Kernell takes away,
You, Sir, must him, as others, you obey.
Ant.
He wou'd a sway pretend over my Love,
And teach my free affections where to move.
To my embrace his Sister I must take,
And my best Queen ingratefully forsake.
Can.
That Sister is your Wife.
Ane.
So let her be
From past engagements, present Love, set free.
Hymen is but the Vulgars Deity . . .
Enter Cleopatra, Charmion, Iras, Egyptians.
Cleop.
O my Antonius! how I fear this Peace!
And must I to Octavia yield my place?
I love you so, that very sound wou'd kill,
And leave you free the promise to fulfil.
Ant.
Were I to gain the Empire of mankind,
And for that pow'r, Eternity assign'd:
I cou'd not to the hateful change submit,
Nor my best Queen so barbarously quit.
Cleop.
But your Octavius loving, young, and fair,
And such a Rival! how can I but fear?
Ant.
Her Hymen never did a Moment please,
The hard Condition of a needful Peace:
From every part I saw the growing storm,
A sudden shelter in her arms I took,
Which when 'twas over I again forsook.
Cleop.
And can you for My sake a War sustain?
Her Brothers friendship and Her Love disdain?
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All hearts a like, all faces do not move,
There is a secret Sympathy in Love:
The pow'rful Loadstone, cannot move a Straw,
No more than Jet, the trembling Needle draw:
Your Beauty only on my Heart can act:
All other ways, it is in vain attaqu'd.
Cleop.
Sure of this War I am the meer pretence,
How can our Love, to Rome give such offence?
She shou'd revenge the Ghost of Crassus slain,
And haughty Babel level with the Plain,
But let in Egypt, Love and pleasure reign.
Ant.
Rome like her Eagles, did on Rapine thrive,
I am the first that taught her how to Give.
Cleop.
What y'have presented me or plac'd on Mine,
I to that griping Senate here resign.
I never did the gifts but Giver prize:
Some new pretence of War let'm devise:
All but your self I for your sake can quit:
For you I did my Crown and Fame forget;
And can you now weigh coldly what it is fit?
Can.
Turn my best Master, from her charming Tongue,
'Tis hard to think such Beauty in the wrong:
Yet if you don't, we are for ever lost.
Ant.
I have resolv'd: to Cæsar I will send:
If he his Grace will to the Queen extend,
And let the Crown upon her Sons descend.
I'le kill my self, and rid him of his Foe,
If not, the last extreams I'le undergo.
Can.
What Roman will the hateful Message bear?
Cleop.
Let us intreat, we may at Athens live,
And tast what joys a private Life can give:
Leaving our greatness and our pomp behind,
We shall in Love sincerer pleasures find:
But whether am I wrapt? fond thoughts be gone,
And melt some tender Virgin of low race,
You are below a heart that wears a Crown,
Where Life, Love, all must to renown give place.
Ant.
Souldiers, when old we from the Wars discharge,
But Fate her Drudges never sets at large:
The higher place they fill, the greater Slaves,
Princes have no retirement but their Graves,
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His Souldiers want my Provinces to share:
Unactive Lepidus he laid aside,
And will no longer now the VVorld divide;
VVhose doubtful Title must by Arms be try'd.
Enter Thyreus.
But see Thyreus here . . . .
He has some Message for your private Ear,
VVhich I without a jealous pang can bear.
Can.
She is a woman, Sir, and when y'are gone,
By Cæsars Offers may be wrought upon.
Ant.
Jealous! yet truly honest. 'Tis strange how
In thy plain mind such wild suspition's grow,
I will return before their Conf'rence end,
But on her Love entirely I depend.
Ex. Ant. Canid.
Thyr.
Madam! my Master's gracious as he's great,
See's how y'are forc't t'allow this short Retreat,
To his proud. Foe, and does himself excuse,
That Ayd perhaps you cou'd not well refuse:
The Ruines of a Roman Emperor,
In her own Kingdom may a Queen o're pow'r.
Cleop.
I first was summon'd in Romes haughty Name,
E're I into Antonius presence came.
Brutus and his I was accus'd to Aid,
But soon acquitted and her Ally made;
Since in Antonius I have Rome obey'd.
Thyr.
If an Ally of Rome you shou'd disclaim,
The Man, whom she does Foe and Traytor name.
Cleop.
Those very Titles She Great Julius gave,
And yet anon, obeys him like a Slave.
On the Success of VVar, her Voice depends,
The distant Foes she stiles the present Friends.
Let others from Antonius fortune fly,
I will support or in their ruine lye.
Thyr.
His Souldiers have another fence declar'd,
And are to storm this stubborn Town prepar'd.
Cleop.
Base Mercenary Souls that fight for Pay,
To morrow Kill, whom they defend to day:
But Princes Minds on Springs of Honour move,
And what can they not do, wound up by Love?
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If not your Self, your harmless Subjects save,
They neither love so well, nor are so brave.
Cleop.
Despair shall make those heartless Villains bold,
VVhile by worse fears, the fear of Death's controul'd.
I'le Rome provoke beyond all hope of grace,
Then in their Arms, they must their safety place.
Phot.
They'l sooner take those Arms up and Rebel . . .
Cleop.
Antonius Souldiers will such Tumults quel.
The People ever discontented are;
Their Crouds were made to be the food of War:
[Ex. Phot.
Thyr.
Cæsar is pleas'd—
You shou'd keep all the Realms of which y'are seiz'd;
Some little to deserve this you must do.
Cleop.
Desert propos'd me from a mortal Foe?
Thyr.
Give us but entrance in the dead of night,
VVe all will spare who are not kill'd in Fight;
Like Cæsar, Cleopatra shall command,
Antonius falls into a Brothers hand.
Cleop.
VVho will revenge the scorn his Sister finds;
Are these your deep, your generous Designs?
Thyr.
You but precipitate the event of VVar,
And by that act a Sea of Blood might spare.
I have a step beyond my Orders made,
VVhich were but to propose not to perswade.
But who can see such Beauty in distress,
And not the utmost of his thoughts express.
Cleop.
In Fates whole scope I fear but one event,
And that your self with honour may prevent.
Thyr.
VVhat is it, Madam? will you hear me swear,
You trust your secret to a Lovers ear,
One that has long, and privately been so.
Cleop.
Sir to make Peace, you were from Cæsar sent,
But make not Love, thô but in Complement.
If Cæsar take this Town by Fates decree,
Swear to inform, what he will do with me—
Thyr.
'Tis not resolv'd, soon as I know I will . . .
Cleop.
Then sound him dayly with your utmost skill.
Thyr.
But is this all? I was in hope to serve,
In some design that might your Love deserve.
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Cleop.
'Tis all of which I care to be inform'd—
Thyr.
My Offers, Madam . . . .
Cleop.
They are such as show,
Romans but ill of th'hearts of Monarchs know.
But on your promise may a Queen rely?
Enter Antonius, Canidius unseen, and Souldiers.
Thyr.
You may: but doubt not Cæsars Clemency;
Your Crown and Person, thô provokt he'l spare,
Conquest and Ruin will respect the Fair,
VVhat may n't such Beauty hope, nor is it new,
That he who rules the VVorld should bow to you.
Ant.
By Heaven, at Complements; I'le pause a while,
And see this subtle Scene of VVomans guile.
Cleop.
My Fates worse Face you will not then disguise,
I can behold it with undaunted Eyes.
Thyr.
And may it prove as charming as your own;
Cleop.
I fear you will forget me, when y'are gone.
Thyr.
I swear upon my Knees and by that Hand:
Whose every touch, my Soul leaps up to meet:
Let me once more th'inflaming Bliss repeat.
Like the first drop which Men in Feavours tast,
It to a deeper draught but makes me hast.
Thus starving Men, think every thing a Feast,
Whil'st some with tastless plenty, ly opprest:
O that I were Antonius but one day!—
Ant.
Slave from that posture thou shalt never rise,
But be my Wraths immediate sacrifice.
Can.
Hold, Sir, your Sword you shall not rashly stain;
VVhat hopes of Peace Embassadors once slain?
Ant.
Ambassador of Love the Villain came;
And 'mongst affairs of State he vents his Flame,
He Kist her Hand, some charming Message sure,
At least of half my Empire, She's secure.
VVhich she perhaps must with my Life repay,
These are the Bargains made when I am away:
'Tis more than Madness to believe that you,
False to my Love, are to my Empire true.
Cleop.
I false to you!
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By Hercules you are: and had I stay'd,
None knows the faithless answer you had made.
Cleop.
VVhat is it that so strange Antonius finds?
He kist my Hand in taking of his leave,
'Tis a respect that Queens from all receive.
Ant.
The eager Kiss, no Lover can mistake,
It extacy and sudden rapture spake,
Those of respect are of a colder make:
Ye Gods! he swore by't perhaps endless Love,
Or that he wou'd your Mediator prove.
Cleop.
Ask him! His offers I have all refus'd,
And yet of falshood live to be accus'd
By you, for whom I suffer, is this just?
One minute, brings long faith into Distrust.
Ant.
Minutes may ruine what in Ages rose,
Like Thunder, Love in instants overthrows.
He has disturb'd me. And he shall be whipt,
Canidius see he instantly be stript.
Can.
If thus you trample on all Roman Laws,
VVhat Roman is there that will own your Cause?
The Law of Nations too does this withstand,
To any thing that's brave I'le lend my hand,
But stir to no such infamous command:
Ant.
Seize the bold Traytor.
Sould.
Will you have him flead.
Say but the word, this minute he is dead.
Ant.
There's a true Servant to his Masters will,
VVhom I condemn, he questions not to kill,
Thyr.
VVith this affront if thou dar'st glut thy hate,
No pow'r on earth can save thy falling state:
Cæsar will take revenge—
Ant.
Away, away . . . .
And my command see strictly you obey.
Cleop.
I do not know that I a smile misplac't.
Frown'd where you frown'd, and where you lik't I grac't.
Not Wealth to Misers, Honour to the Brave,
Health to the Sick, or Freedom to the Slave
Cou'd be more welcome than you Love to Me,
Then think how felt, the cruel change must be:
Ant.
What Change?
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How can you ask; while this distrust appears?
Distrust, the first decay of Love in years.
What we desire we easily believe,
Love on the smoother side does still deceive.
Ant.
Your Lover shall be whipt, and as you bear
That, I shall think you criminal or clear.
Cleop.
Not to the Man, but to his Character,
Such an affront I wish you wou'd forbear.
It is a deed that might amaze the Sun,
And by the rudest People yet undone:
In all the Travels of his fruitful light,
He has not met so barbarous a sight;
Ambassadors are sacred next the Gods,
Above your Axes plac't as well as Rods.
Ant.
Observe how, least I change his punishment,
All ways of my revenge she wou'd prevent,
He may not die . . . .
Cleop.
Nor shan't, unless your hate,
All human Laws resolve to violate.
Then kill me first.
Enter Photinus in hast.
Phot.
The Cities up, the Souldiers Mutiny,
And all—long live the good Thyreus cry.
Anto.
My Romans take and charge'm instantly.
Phot.
What they demand, perhaps you'll not refuse.
Anto.
How'er their Insolence I'll not excuse.
Canid.
Good Sir, abroad you know we want no foes,
This inward strife methinks we might compose:
Octavius work our selves, let us not do.
Cleo.
My People Sir, I hope you'll not destroy,
Whose lives I for your service, wou'd imploy.
Photinus say their Queen bids'm begon,
And trust our Love, what's fitting shall be done.
Enter Messengers.
Mess.
Your Romans, Sir, joyn with th'unruly crow'd,
And to defend th'Embassador, have vow'd:
They say a Roman never shall be whipt,
While Sword or Spear a Roman arm can lift.
1. Mess.
They have by this the Castle Walls broke down,
2. Mess.
And set Thyreus safe without the Town.
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Draw up my Guards, if I have yet a Friend;
This Tumult shall in death of Thousands end.
What must Octavius conclude of me?
If whom I once imprison, they set free.
Cleo.
They have done right by chance, excuse 'em fort;
Tempests sometimes drives Ships into the Port.
Ant.
The Rable is a thing below my hate,
But my own Romans I will decimate.
Enter Lucilius Captain of the Rout.
Luc.
For what is done, I singly am to blame:
The rest but on my call and credit came.
Anto.
What mov'd thee too't: Old Ruffian, thou shalt dye;
In thee I'll punish the whole Mutiny.
Luc.
I saw my General about to blast,
By one rash act, his life and Glories past.
Th'unconstant Rabble to my side I gain'd,
And spight of him, his Honor have maintain'd.
Anto.
What art thou?
Luc.
A Roman.
Anto.
No more?
Luc.
In Brutus Camp some small Command I bore:
Subdu'd by Arms, since by your kindness won,
I am resolv'd your utmost fate to run.
If my late service grieve you, take my head;
The common path of Love I never tread.
Brutus, to save my self, like him I shap't;
So fell I in your hands, and he escap't.
Anto.
Lucilius?
Lucilius,
The same my Int'rest command,
Antonius shall both rule my heart and hand.
Anto.
Discharge the Rabble you have us'd in this.
[They shout.
Luc.
They humbly sue you'll pardon what's amiss.
They are return'd, and now with shouts of joy;
They beg you woud their Swords and Lives imploy.
Anto.
Most willingly, just Heaven, what am I,
Whom the rude People, teach Humanity?
[Ex.
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