Pompey the Great a tragedy as it was acted by the servants of His Royal Highness the Duke of York / translated out of French by certain persons of honour.

POMPEY THE GREAT . A Tragedy . As it was Acted by the Servants of His Royal Highness the Duke of YORK .

Translated out of French by Certain PERSONS OF HONOUR .

— Qui se Lectori credere malunt Quam spectatoris fastidia ferre superbi : Namque Equitis quoque jam migravit ab aure Voluptas Omnis , ad incertos oculos , & gaudia Vana . Horat.

LONDON , Printed for Henry Herringman , and are to be Sold at his Shop at the Sign of the Anchor in the Lower Walk of the New-Exchange . 1664.

PROLOGUE AT THE HOUSE . FRom Greece , the place , where Wit and Learning grew , To Conquering Rome , the Banish'd Muses flew , With other Spoils adorning so her State , That all her Writers seem but to Translate ; From thence the Roman Eagle on her Wing , These Entertainments tow'rds the North did bring , Of such Delights cold Regions owe their part , Not to kind Nature , but to Care and Art : The Peach , the Tulip , Nectarine and Rose , Not in our Woods , but in our Garden grows ; Who nothing will but what is Home-bred taste , Must live content with Acorns and with Most ; For your Diversion we this Night present , A Fruit which grew upon the Continent ; Of all that 's French , 't is Rank'd among the best , And may prove better in our Language dress'd ; As Flowers Transplanted recompence our Toyl , Doubling their Beauties with their Change of Soil ; This you must judge of , only make us bold With kind Attention , and you shall behold How Cleopatra Looks , how Caesar Burns , How Pompey Dyes , and how Cornelia Mourns .

The Actors Names . Caesar Lepidus Antonius Senators , and followers of Caesar. Cornelia Wife to Pompey . Philip Freed-man of Pompey . Ptolomey King of Aegypt . Cleopatra His Sister . Photinus Achillas Counsellors to Petolomy . Charmion Achoreus Adherers to Cleopatra . Septimius A Degenerate Roman .

POMPEY . Act the First ,

Scene the First . Enter Ptolomey , Photinus , Achillas , Septimius . Ptolom . THe Fates disclose their Book , and now we Read , What of the Father and the Son 's decreed . Th' amazed Gods awhile seem'd all divided , What they demurr'd Pharsalia has decided , Whose Rivers Dy'd with Blood and Rapid made Swell with the fury of the Roman blade , Arms , Eagles , Bodies , all Consus'dly spread , Cover her Fields infected with the Dead , Heaps of the Slain deny'd a Funeral , Just Nature to their own Revenge does call From putrid Corps exhaling Poysonous airs , Enough to plague the guilty Conquerours ; This is the Title of great Caesars cause , At this dire Evidence by Mars his Laws , Caesar's absolv'd and Pompey guilty cry'd , This pitty'd Leader of the Juster side , By weary Fortune of success bereft , Is made a great example , and has left The world a pattern of her Rowling Wheel , Whose dismal turn whole Nations with him feel ; He , whose Prosperity was wont to vye , With his own Wish , from Thessaly does fly , The Vanquish'd Pompey to our Ports , our Walls , Our Court approaching for a Refuge calls , From his own Father in Law , his proud defeat Seeks where against the Tytans a retreat The Gods once found , where in despight of all , They that sav'd Heav'n he thinks may stop his fall , And sharing the Despair on which he 's hurl'd , May give a prop unto the Tottering world ; For the World's fate on Pompey's fate depends ; And to our Aegypt in distress he sends , For Aid or Ruine , a Recruit or Grave , We must sink with him or his Fortunes save . This tempest Friends your grave advice must calm , He brings dread Thunder or the welcome Palm , He Crown'd the Father , Threatens now the Son , Memphis he gave , and hazards what h' has done ; His ruine I must share , or else comply With Caesar's wish and make my Suppliant dye : The first Unsafe , the other Base and low , I fear Injustice or an Overthrow , Do what I can , to whatsoe're I fly , 'T is full of Danger or of Infamy ; The choice is mine , and you are to consult What to incline me to by your result ; Pompey's the Theam , and we must have the praise To trouble Caesar , or compleat his Bays , You sit on both their fortunes , upon more Than any Council ever sat before . Photin . Sir , When the Sword great Causes does decide , Justice and Right good States-men lay aside , And who will wisely Act in such a season , Must ballance Strength and not examine Reason ; Weigh your own forces then and Pompey's might , His Hopes are dash'd , his fruitless Valour light ; 'T is not from Caesar only that he flies , But from the dread reproach and wrathfull Eyes Of Romes great Senate , whose best half invites To a Rich Banquet the Pharsalian Kites ; He flies the City and the Sons of Rome , Which his Defeat to Slavery does Doom ; He flies the Rage of Nations and of Crowns , That would revenge on him their Ransack'd Towns , Their weakn'd States of Men and Money drain'd , Their Reputation by his Losses stain'd , The cause of all their Woes , hated by all , He flies the whole World shatter'd with his fall ; Will you against such Opposition stand , And bear his Cause up with a single hand ? The hope he had was in himself alone , What might be done , he did , he Overthrown You must give way , will you sustain a weight Which Rome bends under shrinking from her height ? Maintain a Quarrel that has Thunder strook The reeling World , and the great Pompey broke ? They that the faults of Fortune would amend , And be too Just , against themselves Offend , Whilst indiscreetly kind with vain Effort They perish with those Friends they would support ; Their faith has a brave Lustre , but they fall , And honour lessens not the bruise at all . Side with the Gods , declare your felf for Fate , Draw not on us their Thunder and their Hate , Ask not how justly , wherefore they chastise , But worship him whom they would have to Rise , Approve of their Decrees , applaud their Will , And whom they Frown on in Obedience Kill . By divine Vengeance on all sides persu'd Pompey involves your Aegypt in the fewd ; His head that he has shifted so to Save , Falling your Royal Company would have ; His present coming I Unfriendly deem , Th' effect of Hatred rather than Esteem ; 'T is to Destroy you , hither now to fly , And can you doubt if he deserve to Dye ? He should have come with Bays upon his brows , And with Success have seconded our Vows ; With Feasts and Triumphs then we had receiv'd him , 'T is his own Fate , not we that have deceiv'd him , Not him , but his ill Fortune we neglect , For to his Person ▪ we would pay Respect ; Caesar subdu'd , by the same Sword had Dy'd , With which less willingly we peirce his side ; Under his Ruine you must shelter take , And in this Storm his Death your ▪ Harbour make , Which though the World should reckon as a Crime , Is but a Just compliance with the time ; The strict regard of Justice does annoy ▪ The power of Crowns , and policy Destroy ; 'T is the Prerogative of Kings to spare Nothing when they their own Destruction fear ; He wants no Danger whom the care of Right Keeps from Injustice when 't is requisite ; Who to his Royal Power no bound , would have To his own Conscience must not be a Slave ; And thus you have my Counsel mighty Sir , Who Kills the Conquer'd , Gains the Conquerour . Achil. Photinus , Sir , speaks well , but though the Day Pompey has lost , his Person yet I weigh , I reverence that Blood the Gods did spare , When his whole Army such a Fate did share ; Nor see I reason why it should be spilt , Unless it prove a necessary Guilt : What needs such Rigour ? your Estate is sure , Who takes no part , can make no Forfeiture ; You may stand Neuter , as you did before , Though Caesar's rising Fortune you adore , And treat him like a God , by my advice , You shall not make him such a Sacrifice , For Mars it were too precious , and will give Your name a Blot you never shall Out-live ; It is enough that Pompey hither came , And found no Succour , to keep you from blame ; The Senate by his inclination led , Set Aegypts Crown upon your Fathers head , And yet I say not Kings should gratefull be , Beyond the bounds and rule of Policy , They of their people ought more care to shew Than gratitude for all that they can owe , A Crown bestow'd can lay no Obligation ▪ On him that takes it to destroy his Nation . Besides , if every circumstance be weigh'd , What ventur'd Pompey in your Fathers aid ? He sought thereby to make his Credit known , And glory got by rendring him his own , He to the Senate an Oration made , But Caesar's thousand Talents did perswade , Had not that Treasure made your Fathers way , In vain had been whatever he could say ; He for you then , for him to Caesar you May plead , 't is all with safety you can do , And all you owe him , to receive him here , Were to admit a Guest that you must fear . A Conquer'd Consul is so great a thing , That he will bear himself above a King ; Forbid him Landing then , and spare his Head ; But if your Majesty will have him Dead , Command this Sword to execute your Will , Great Pompey's blood I 'le be the first shall spill . Septim . Dread Sir , I am a Roman , and do know Both these Commanders and their Interest too . To succour Pompey were a dangerous part , To chace him hence would gain but half the heart Of mighty Caesar , and make him your foe , Who yet perhaps may to such Greatness grow , Raising new Forces both at Land and Sea , That he at length with Caesor may agree , And both revenge themselves on such a friend , Whose cold Neutrality did both offend ; In rendring him I no less danger find , Caesar to Pardon him must seem inclin'd , And with false glory make glad Rome believe T is for her sake he lets his Rival live , Whilst in the secret of his thoughts he knows That his forc'd Clemency to you he owes ; Free Caesar then from Danger and from Guilt , And let his fortune on your shame be built , Pompey destroy'd of Caesar we are sure , And from the Vengeance of the Dead secure ; This my advice is , what Achillas said , Would give you cause to Live of both afraid . Ptolom . Then to Necessity let Justice vail , And the Plurality of Votes prevail , My inclination too favours that doom , Which may abate this Arrogance of Rome ; Let her that does the prostrate World bestride , Lose at one stroke both Liberty and Pride ; Let Pompey Dye in whom her Hopes do Live , To the World 's Tyrants-let's a Tyrant give , Let us contribute to the Fates decree , To make them Subjects and us Monarchs free , At least our Masters by this brave resolve In the same Servitude we shall involve ; Go then Achillas , with Septimius go , And make us famous by this noble blow ; Had Heav'n to Pompey been propitious , It had not sent him to Endanger us . Achil. Sir , What a King commands is always just . Ptolom . Hast then , begon , and answer this great Trust , Which well perform'd , our Throne secure you make ; Remember Rome and Aegypt are at Stake . Exeunt .

Scene the Second . Ptolomey , Photinus . Ptolom . PHotinus , this our Sister will deceive , That hopes a Crown from Pompey to receive ; She knows he has our Father's Will in guard , And sees her way to Royalty prepar'd By his arrival , she already plays The Queen , and her Ambitious hopes betrays , Thinking by Pompey's friendship and his might To ratifie that Will and share my Right ; She looks as if she were already grown My Mistriss , or my Partner in the Throne . Photin . Sir , 't is a Motive which I did not urge , That Pompey's Death will her ill humours purge ; Your cause decided by that antient Host Of our late King , would half the Kingdome cost . His Will performed will divide your State ; Yet wish I not you should your Sister hate , By Nature's Law she ought to have her part , Not in the Royal Throne , but in your Heart . To Reign in Consort little Honour brings , And you would seem Commissioners not Kings ; This way how oft have States distracted been ? But see ! your Sister the pretended Queen .

Scene the Third . Ptolomey , Cleopatra , Photinus . Cleop. Pompey's arriv'd , Sir , shall he come alone ? Ptolom . Achillas and Septimius both are gone To wait upon him hither . Cleop. Are they two Enough for him ? Ptolom . Why , Sister , you may go . Cleop. Were it too much , had you in Person gone ? Ptolom . Yes , I must keep the honour of the Throne ? Cleop. Remember , Sir , who plac'd you there , and bow To that Great man to whom you so much owe. Ptolom . Yes , your Great man's deserted and o'rethrown , Cleop. Still he is Pompey and gave you the Crown . Ptolom . 'T is Pompey's Ghost which has oblig'd the Ghost Of our Dead father , let him go and boast Those merits past upon his Monument , Thither perhaps e're long he may be sent . Cleop. Pompey a Ghost ! and sent unto a Grave ! Is this the welcome he deserves to have ? Ptolom . 'T is what the Gods inspired us to do , And what the Kingdoms good compell'd us to . Cleop. Photin , and such mean Counsellours I fear Have with base Counsel poysoned your Ear. Photin . The counsel , Madam , we must all avow , Cleop. Peace , till I stoop to mingle words with you . Ptolom . She is my Sister , let her humour sway , For your known Innocence there needs no plea. Cleop. Sir , Let that horrid Sentence be recall'd If not too late , nor longer be enthrall'd To these low Slaves , but such advice imbrace As Heav'n suggests to those of our high Race . Ptolom . Swell'd with the hopes of Pompey's friendship , you Speak like a Queen , and think to make us bow With a false shew of Virtue you can hide Your Interest too , and your Ambitious pride . With Pompey's Death you could be well content , Did he not keep our Father's Testament . Cleop. No Sir , 'T is honour , and not Interest , Which for great Pompey makes me thus Contest ; Take here a Secret , which will let you know My Hopes are built upon his Mortal foe : When the Rude people of this barbarous Town , Made the Late King desert his Royal Throne , His Native Soil he left , in hope to find Rome's Senate to their old Confederate kind ; To move their Pity we both went along , You but a tender Child , my self though Young Yet of an Age to make that Beauty known Which Heav'n had lent me , and some Hearts my own ; Above the rest Caesar his Passion shows , Declares his Love , but yet with Caution wooes ; Fearing the Senate , he puts Pompey on , Our bus'ness was by their new friendship done ; Pompey's Authority for his Sake we had , And you this way with Royal Robes are clad . But Caesar thus to gain us mighty Rome , Thought not enough , his Love persues us home , His Purse as well as Heart he open'd wide , And with his Treasure our Low state supply'd ; His thousand Talents which are yet unpaid , Over the Rebells us Victorious made , This knew our Dying Father , and bestow'd Half that on me to whom the Whole he ow'd , He knew the Kingdome was my Beauties prize , And that he ow'd his Scepter to these Eyes ; Betwixt us two by his last Will , the Land Restor'd by Caesar does Divided stand ; And thus you see it is no Partial end , But sense of Honour makes me Pompey's friend . Ptolom . This story is contrived with a Dress . Cleop. Of Caesar's coming here is an express ; The cause I have to bear me like a Queen , Shall by your Self , this Day perhaps be seen ; For some years past here treated like a Slave , My right with-held , which our just Father gave , To flatter Slaves I have employ'd my breath , Lest your bad Ministers should plot my Death ; From Photin and Achillas Tyranny Pompey or Caesar now will set me free . One of those Two our Difference shall decide , And then you 'l know the reason of my Pride . Exit Cleopatra .

Scene the Fourth . Ptolomey , Photinus . Ptolom . WHat think you , Photin , of this haughty Dame ? Photin . This secret never to my Knowledge came ; Confu●'d , Uncertain , in my Thoughts , I find No mean , whereby this Storm may be declin'd . Ptolom . Shall Pompey Live then ? Photin . No , the rather Dye ; This way you must with your fair Sister vye For Caesar's grace , whose Gratitude may prove For such a Service equal to his Love. Ptolom . VVhat if her Charms with Caesar should prevail ? Photin . She must be flatter'd , if you think I fail , VVith wise Septimius and Achillas you May take advice what you are next to do . Ptolom . From the high Tower wee 'l look on Pompey's fate , And this Affair at their return debate . Exeunt .

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 Caesar burns : Nor shall the Victors passion make me lose The sense of what our House to Pompey owes . She that great Caesar 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 Caesar love , and yet would raise Aegypt 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 Caesar , we in one Person see At once the Lover and the Enemy . Cleop. 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 I ove , 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 boast of , they will ne're Employ ; And the great Caesar 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 . Cleop. A fresh Divorce so common at this day , May in my favour take those Lets away . 'T was 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 , I le 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 't is alone The generous passion that a Queen may own . Charm. 'T is not the nearest way to Caesar's Bed , Nor this thought greatness , to save Pompey's Head. Cleop. But 't is 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 . 'T is 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 ? Enter Achoree . Achor . 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 , wh●lst the whole Storm I bear , And to take Vengeance by thy restless care ; Our noble Juba bears a Braver mind , 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 Aegyptian 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 ; Caesar 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 . Cleop. 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 ●ut 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 Villais ! 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 Their common Grave : others loud Thunder hear , 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 , Caesar appears , and almost hide 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 , Caesar 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 state Both Consulls had Companions of his Fate , When Fortune once neglected him , we see Aegyptian 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 Caesar may : But O ye powerfull Gods that see my Tears , Assist my Wishes , and avert my Fears . Achor . Madam , the King is coming ? [ Enter Ptolomey , Photinus . Ptolom . Do you know the Honour we are like to have ? Cleop. Yes , Caesar'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 't is 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 , Caesar 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 Caesar's Queen , and may command O're Ganges , Tagus , and the farthest Land. Cleop. I have Ambition , but 't is so confin'd , That thought 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 . Ptolom . 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 Caesar 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 le ts prevent her Rage , 't is poor to wait , And tamely bear the certain stroaks of Fate ; Le ts put an end to her too long disdain , Le ts 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 ; No Ardour Love can give to such a Soul , 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 Caesar 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 ; le ts 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 .

Act Third ,

Scene First . Enter Charmion and Achoreus . Charm. WHile Ptolomey with low respect does haste Our Aegypts Crown at Caesars feet to Cast , The Queen as unconcern'd at Home does stay , Expecting Caesar like respect should pay To her ; what think you of this haughty Dame ? Acho. 'T is a just Value set upon the Fame Of her great Beauty , and becomes her Place And high Extraction of that Royal Race ; But may I have access ? Charm. No , I am sent Of the late Interview to know th' Event , To learn what the strange Present did obtain , The thanks of Caesar or his Just disdain , If his Reception of the King were kind , And what Success our Murtherers do find . Acho. The Head presented will produce Effects Much differing from what Aegypts Court expects , Whose Flatteries have mis-led their Soveraign ; When he took Shipping I was in his Train ; Our Navy Anchor in good Order weigh'd , And a League hence for Caesars coming staid , He with full Sails advanc't , as Mars had grac't His Sword with Conquest , Neptune now as fast Favours his Course , and to his Fleet , as kind As his late Fortune , gives a prosperous Wind ; When they first meet , Our Prince dismay'd appears , Forgetting what became the Crown he wears , Shews Abject Fear , in Chearfulness ill feign'd , A servil Baseness his Behaviour stain'd ; I blush'd to see our Ptolomey so near To mighty Caesar and no King appear ; Caesar that saw Fear strike him in amaze , With Flattering pity did his Spirits raise ; He faintly then the fatal Present shows , Behold my Lord , the last of all your Foes . Pompey , Cornelia , both from me receive More than the Gods could at Pharsalia give ; Here is his Head , the other , though she flies , Our Fleet persuing will soon make your prize . The Head discover'd of great Pompey slain Appear'd as though it would have Spoke again , As if it yet were warm enough to have Sense of th' Affront which to his Ghost they gave ; The mouth yet Gasping , and the wandring sight Seem'd to recall the Soul but yet in Flight , His Dying anger wanted only breath T' accuse the Gods for his Defeat and Death . Charm. Drawn in small space , large Histories have been , So in that point those Miseries were seen , That like a Deluge the whole World o'respread , E're they could swell so high to reach that Head ; Could horrour there , Contracting all her power Make no Impression on the Conquerour ? Acho. The sight like Thunder strook him with surprize , As one not knowing what , or how t' advise , His fixed Eye a while , and deep suspence From all about him hid his Doubtfull sense ; If we may guess , he labour'd to Destroy The rising Motions of uncomely Joy , To which Ambition did his Thoughts allure , Finding his Empire o're the World secure , This Pleasure with Discretion did contest For a short pause , till Reason got the best ; Though he loves Greatness , Treachery he hates , Weighs the Worlds Judgment and his own , Debates What solid Motives urge his Joy , or Woe , At length Concluding , Tears his Eyes o'reflow , A generous Frailty in his Temper shines , And to his Virtue Interest resigns ; Out of his Sight he sends them with their Gift , And with his Eyes and Hands to Heav'n up lift , Against the Fact in bitter Words declares , Then silent stood as one opprest with Cares , Nor to his Romans would he make reply , But with deep Sighing or an angry Eye ; At length with Thirty Cohorts set on Land , Both of our Ports and Gates he took Command , Plac'd Guards with secret Orders every where , To make Distrust as well as Grief appear , Speaks as our Lord , names Pompey , not as one That was his Rival , but his Dearest Son ; There 's what I saw . Charm. Here 's what the Queen would have , And what her Prayers from just Osiris crave , Shee 'l be Transported with this welcome News , Which to encrease your faithfull Service use . Acho. I shall , but Caesar's come , go let her hear How pale our Courtlers look , how Dead with fear , And we , as Caesar shall his mind disclose , Will soon inform her how this new World goes . Exeunt .

Scene the Second . Enter Ptolomey , Caesar and Lepidus , Antonius . Ptolom . MY Lord , as Soveraign here , our Throne ascend . Caesar. That offer , Sir , speaks you not Caesar's friend , Fortunes worst Malice could not set me down To less Advantage than upon a Throne ; Here Rome's hard usage would find Just excuse , If such a weak Temptation could seduce A Roman heart from its true Character , To stoop at Loyalty , disdain'd by her , And giv'n as Cheap , 't is bred in our Souls frame To hate that Quality , and slight the Name ; This from great Pompey you had sooner known , If your Distressed friend y' had dar'd to own , He had this offer of your Chair declin'd , If to that Worthy you had been thus kind ; You might perhaps , have fallen , but strew'd with Bays , No Trophees of Success had match't that praise , When Fortune had betray'd your Enterprize , Caesar had took delight to help you Rise , But since your Thoughts had no regard of Fame , To that Illustrious head whence grew your Claim ; Which way could he forfeit his Life to you , Whose Homage is to the least Roman due ? Has fate made me Triumphant o're my Foes , That Aegypts King the Conquest should dispose ? My too Destructive Sword did I unsheath , That you might Judge of Romans Life and Death ? I Fought to wrest that Power from Pompeys hands , Shall I endure your Barbarous Commands ? What do you think for this can be your Doom , Where you pretend a Soveraignty o're Rome ? Affronted more in this Illustrious head , Than all the Blood that Mithridates shed ; Had I been Vanquish'd , your Complying thought My head a present had to Pompey brought ; Thanks to my Fortune that I am ador'd , From him Retreating I had met your Sword ; Friendship abhorr'd , and formidable Love , That Safe or Dangerous as our Fortunes prove ; But speak , you have too long stood thus Confus'd . Ptolom . 'T is true , but with Just cause may be Excus'd . A Soveragn Born that always us'd Command , I now in presence of my Master stand , My Courtiers all with Reverence on me look , But with like Awe I am by Caesar strook , Judge then how I should presence have of mind , Who from your Words such Cause of Terrour find ; Lost in profound Respect , how should we Clear This double Cloud of Reverence and Fear ? But above all that which Confounds me most , Is to find Caesar Friend to Pompeys Ghost . You urge Ingratitude , but this I know , That more to Caesar than to him I owe ; Your favour first on our Dark Fortune shin'd , To what he did he was by you inclin'd , Our Cause i th' Senate he did undertake , Protecting Injur'd Princes for your sake , Yet vain had been whatever they Decreed , Unless your Bounty had supply'd our need ; The Thousand Talents you so Nobly lent , Restor'd us to our Throne from Banishment . Your Son we Honour'd , while he was your Friend , Before his Force he did against you bend ; Before he Envy'd your Success in Warr , And Tyrant like began this Civil Jarr . Caesar. Hold — Are you not contented with his Death , That thus you Blast his Glory with your Breath ? Vent not such Slanders as may Rome offend , Nor him Reproach , while you your Self Defend . Ptolom . Then we referr to Heav'n his secret thought , Which all our Vows during these Warrs besought , That you by prosp'rous Arms might be redrest , Whose slow Resentment was so rudely Press'd . How could I think , that it became your Friend To spare his Life , that did your Death intend ? A man whose Rage no Victory could quel , Might have fetch'd Succour from the lowest Hell , Made the Wild Parthian the Sworn foe of Rome , And all the East against his Father come ; Besides , had you his Person got , our fear Suppos'd your heart too generous would forbear Your Just Revenge , and Clemency's Excess Had still Continu'd your Unhappiness . These friendly fears of Accidents so ill , Made us secure you , though against your Will ; Our forward Zeal as Guilty you disown , But 't was to Serve you , what has been misdone ; Nor need you own the Fact by which you gain , To keep you Innocent I took the stain , The Blacker 't is the more it should be Priz'd , My Fame to your Concernment Sacrifis'd . Caesar. Reasons ill grounded your false Zeal misled , If what the whole World pray'd for , caus'd your Dread , That your too Curious fear should thus delude The fairest hope our Civil Arms pursu'd ; Honour engag'd me my proud Foes to tame , And then to pardon was my only aim , The feircest Enemies I have o'rethrown , For my Dear Friends and Confidents I own . VVhat publique Joy had our sad Warr ensu'd , If I and Pompey o're our former feud , Triumphant had in the same Chariot Rid ? All which your narrow Policies forbid . You fear'd my Clemency ! O gross mistake ! VVish it were greater now for your own sake ; If by strict Rules of Justice I were led , I should appease Romes Anger with your Head ; VVithout regard to seeming Love , your State , Or too late Penitence , Indulge my Fate , And make your Throne it self the Tragick Stage , Did not your Sister obviate my Rage : Your guilty Blood my Pardon only gains , Because it runs in Cleopatra's Veins ; On your base Flatterers the fault I lay , And am content their Lives the forfeit pay ; Guilty or Innocent I shall Esteem You , as you Spare , or as you Punish them . Mean while to Pompey let new Altars rise VVith Honours , such as to the Deities Are paid , with Sacrifice your Crime repair , And in that Work imploy your Cheifest care ; Among your Courtiers order this Design , And leave me otherwise imploy'd with mine . Exit Ptolomey .

Scene the Third . ANtonius , have you Aegypts 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 Caesar , I should Love her too . Caesar. 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 . Caesar. 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 . Caesar. Le ts go and free her from this Trivial fear , By making Caesars matchless Love appear ; Come , le ts 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 ; Your Guards by Order when they first took Shore , Led them tow'rds you without Expressing more . Caesar. 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 .

Scene the Fourth . Enter Cornelia with a Guard. Septim . MY Lord — Caesar. Septimius to your Master go , No Traitors shall abide with Caesar , no Degenerate wretch , that Roman Swords could bring From Pompeys Camp or mine to serve a King. Cornel. Caesar , for Envious Fates that I out-brave Can make me but your Prisoner , not your Slave , Expect not that their Rage should make me Bow To call you Lord , That Homage is below Young Crassus , Pompey's Widdow , Scipio's Blood , And what 's yet more a Roman Born , how shou'd I stoop to that who am so much above The power of Fortune in my Birth and Love ? For Life , 't is that I Blush to own , that I Could stay behind when I saw Pompey Dye ; Though Pity with rude Force impos'd restraint From Steel , or Waves , It is my shame to want Those borrowed helps , for loss of such a Friend , Excess of Grief should Lingring Torments end ; Death were my Glory , that your Captive I Live , is the last Degree of Misery . Caesar. The Nature of your Grief so Violent , Does to your Thoughts through a Dark Veil present All black like Aegyp●s Monsters , this belief Of them were Just , not where a Roman's chief . Cornel. O Heav'n ! upon my Birth what Planets shin'd , That I must praise their Clemency to find My greatest Foe Rule here , rather than one My Husbands hand Restor'd to his lost Throne ? Caesar , upon your Triumphs set less rate , Effects produc'd by my Disastrous fate , Ruine my Portion to both Husbands paid , Theirs , and the whole Worlds Fortune has out-weigh'd ; 'T is I , that with my Nuptial Knot ill ty'd , Twice made the Gods forsake the Juster side . O that on Caesar I had been bestow'd , That Rome to my Misfortune might have ow'd Her freedome , and thy Family the bane Of blasting Stars led thither as my Train ; Think not to change my Hate , a Heart like mine Though force may Captivate , can ne're incline Basely to sue , what e're your Order Threats , Cornelia neither Trembles , nor Intreats . Caesar. O worthy half of an Illustrious mate , Your Courage we admire , and mourn your Fate , From whence you Sprung , this great Heart amply proves , And your Just Title to such Worthy Loves ; Young Crassus , Pompey's Virtues , whose reward Fate could not pay , Scipio's great Soul , the Guard Of our Distress'd and Threatned Deities Speak with your Voice , and Sparkle in your Eyes ; No Dame so highly Married , and so Born , Does Rome the Mistress of the World Adorn ; Would Jove and all the Gods your Scipio sav'd From Punick Rage , had heard but what I crav'd , That in your Hero's Brest no mis-conceit Of my Design had made him thus retreat To Barbarous Courts , on us he had rely'd , And stop't his Flight to hear me Justified , Then had I Triumph'd with a happier Doom Over Mistakes and Strife , not Him , and Rome , And he his Losses recompenc'd might prove In the full Treasure of his Rivals Love : To Live his Equal , and to Dye his Friend , Of my Contention was the only End , His Mind once setled in a quiet state , His Pardon I had got for partial Fate ; And with it gain'd Romes Alienated heart , When she had known I had in his a part . Cornel. Caesar , great Promises are safely made , Where the performance is but to a Shade , The way 's too Common , and we easily find Men to the Ashes of their Rivals kind ; Be still your self , for we receive your Hate With better Welcome , than a Love so Late . Caesar. Yet , Madam , since with him these Hopes must Dye , And Envious Fates so great a Joy deny , To what is left of him , that is , to You , Caesar shall render what to Both is due . Be Mistriss of your Self , I only pray The favour from you of a Two Days stay , To be a Witness after all your Hate , How I Resent his Loss , Revenge his Fate , That so the World for all the late Spilt flood , May know the Price I set on Roman Blood. Madam , I leave you for a Moment , see Good Lepidus , that her Attendance be As Roman Ladies ought , That is , above What 's paid to greatest Queens , let all things move At her Command . Cornel. O Cruelty of Fate ! That I such Virtue should be forc't to Hate . Exeunt .

Act Fourth ,

Scene First . Ptolomey , Achillas , Photinus . Ptolom . BEyond belief is the sad News you tell , By the same Hand and Sword that Pompey fell , Septimius slain ? Achillas , wert thou there , Saw'st thou the sad Effect of his Despair ? Achil. I saw him Dye , and with his latest Breath Seem to advise us in the Pangs of Death To Judge of Caesars slow advised Rage ; Wrath soon Inflam'd as quickly may Asswage , But study'd Anger and deliberate Hate , Grows up with Time and carries certain fate : Nor must we hope his Fury will decline , He calls it ( Just Revenge ) 't is meer Design . With Pompey's Ghost , a League he would Contract , And Punishing that much Repented Act , Strives to obtain , ( for Caesar Grasps at all ) Empire and Glory by his Rivals fall . Ptolom . Ah! had thy good Advice Belief obtain'd , Without a Master Ptolomey had Reign'd , But Kings still chuse ( Govern'd by some ill Fate ) The worst Advice after a Long debate ; Destiny blinds them , or if any Light Seem to inform , it but deceives their Sight , And with delusive Glimmerings leads them on , Till they have Reach'd their own Destruction . Photin . I was deceiv'd in Caesar all this while , For he his Rivals Death doth Murder style ; But since th' ungratefull Tyrant can Defame So a Great a Service with so Foul a Name , By the same Hand let his own Blood be spilt , And we in that will wash our former Guilt . Now I prescribe no Bounds to your Swoln heart , Nor would deferr Revenge till he depart , This sharp Disease must have a Sudden Cure , Let us no more his Insolence indure ; By Caesar's Death wee 'l Pompey 's Ghost appease , Secure our Selves , and give the whole World ease , When Rome her Self shall call him Tyrant too , And owe her Peace , and Liberty to you . Ptolom . Photinus , now thy Reasons must perswade . Shall I descend to be of him Affraid , VVhom I have Rais'd and made thus to be Fear'd ? No , no , my Vengeance shall not be Deferr'd , That in one day Aegypt may twice become The great Disposer of the Fates of Rome ; Caesar forget thy Pride for Battel 's won , And only think of what my Power has done ; For Pompey fell beneath the Fatal stroke , Pompey , who once thy Envy could provoke , And therefore was as Great , the VVorld shall see , That thou art Mortal too as well as he : To the Dead Hero thou art grown so kind , 'T were Cruelty to keep thee here behind . Achil. Sir , to our Selves it were : at once his fall Gives full Revenge and Safety to us all ; Revenge and Safety dear to all Mankind , And in his Death their Interests are Joyn'd . Ptolom . Nor shalt thou Caesar of thy Justice boast , I must appease both Romes and Pompey's Ghost , And of thy Insolence Revenge will take , VVho spar'st a King but for his Sisters sake ; Nor shall my Fortunes still in Danger lye , Both of her Hate and thy Inconstancy , That when you please , those Toyes my Life and Crown , Reward a Smile , or Punishes a Frown . No , my Respects and Fears are laid aside , Thou shalt not long enjoy thy cruel Pride , And since thou didst Command me to prepare Victims for Pompey with advice and care , I have Obey'd thee Tyrant , and I see There is no fitter Sacrifice than thee , Whose Blood might sooner on the Altar spilt , Appease his Ghost or Expiate our Guilt ; But 't is in Vain my Friends with Angry words To threaten Caesar ; we must know what Swords We can Employ to Exectue our Will , The Tyrants Army are our Masters still : Let us consult , and suddenly advise , How to Destroy 'em by a close Surprize . Achil. Sir , Let us first secure our own Defence ; You have six Thousand men some two Miles hence , Which I from several Quarters have drawn down For fear of Stirs in this Tumultuous Town ; With all their Care the Romans have not found A secret Sally we have under Ground , Through which by Night unknown to Caesars Guard , We may Conduct them to the Palace Yard ; For should we now the Roman Host invade , With Trumpets Sounding , Ensigns wide Display'd , Head-long we might to Death and Danger run , And vainly perish e're our Work were done . No , at the Feast let him receive his Doom , Doubly before with Love and Wine o'recome ; Then if we can but Muster all our Powers , I 'm Consident the Towns-men will be ours ; For I perceive the Tyrant does Incense Their Anger 's by his Pomp and Insolence , And when they saw his Vessels under Sail , Proudly inforce our fearfull Fleet to Vail , They scarcely could those Sparks of Anger tame , Which we will quickly Blow into a Flame : But above all the Valiant Roman Band , Whom Dead Septimius lately did Command , By all the Gods and Powers above have Sworn , To be Reveng'd of Caesar's Bloody scorn . Ptolom . But how to fix our Weapons in his Breast , If all his Guard surround him at the Feast ? Photin . Great Sir , the Roman Souldiers in your Pay , Amongst the Servants of Cornelia Have met with Friends and Kinsmen , who may be Fit Actors all in this Great Tragedy ; These we shall soon perswade to undertake Their Tyrants Slaughter for their Masters sake ; They as Cornelia's Train have free access , Which may assure us of a good Success , So that whilst Caesar flatters Pompey's Wife , He would secure , but shall expose his Life . But Cleopatra comes , smooth your Rough Brow ; And wisely seem with Servil fear to bow ; We must begon being Objects of her Hate . Ptolom . Go , and expect me , I 'le be with you straight .

Scene the Second . Ptolomey , Cleopatra , Charmion . Cleop. BRother , with Caesar I have done my best To make your Peace , and Calm his Angry breast . Ptolom . 'T was 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 Caesars brow without a frown , You need not fear your Person nor your Crown , Caesars so much your Friend , that for your sake He 's mov'd to Pity , the advice you take Of such base Counsel , who in every thing Will make ye more a Tyrant than a King , These men Composed of the Coursest Earth , Whose Souls are baser than their Obscure Birth , You give 'em power , and set 'em up to Reign , Cloath 'em with Purple , but 't is 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 , 't is 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 usd you Ill ; My Palace then had been the Happy place , VVhere Caesar might his Conquer'd Son Imbrace , And when the World had found all Troubles cease , She ' d been oblig'd to Aegypt for her Peace ; I as a Friend to both , had by the Laws Of Aegypt 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 Caesar 't will be Vain , Since by their Hands Pompey was basely Slain ; His Blood with Caesar's Justice will oppose This strange Desire of mine to save my Foes ; Once for your Sake I did their Pardons crave , 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 Caesar'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 .

Scene the Third . Caesar , Cleopatra , Antonius , Lepidus , Charmion , Achoreus , Romans . Caesar. MY Queen , this Storm is laid without much harm , A small Commotion gave a great Alarm ; But when I left you I began to find A greater Tumult in my Troubled mind . Love , my most powerfull Passion made me hate Success and Greatness , Curse the Cruel fate That rais'd me , since thus great I cannot spare My self one hour of Joy , but some new Care Still calls me from you , yet I straight again Am reconcil'd to Fortune , and restrain My Causeless passion , nay , adore my Bays , Since they my Hopes as well as Person raise To that Auspicious height from whence I see , So fair a Prospect of Felicity , That I dare hope Requital of my Flame , Though my Ambitious Love make you his Aim . You now may Caesar with like Ardour meet , Kings cast their Crowns and Scepters at my feet ; But if the World a Monarch yet contains , Who more deserves the Glory of your Chains , On whose high Throne you might with greater State , Give Laws to Nations , and Dispose of Fate , By force of Arms I would my Title prove , His Rival less for Empire than for Love , Nor should I hope you would my Flames allow , Till I had made so great a Rival bow ; These were the Ambitious hopes which have thus farr Engag'd your Caesar in a Civil Warr , And that I might this glorious Right maintain , I Conquer'd Pompey on Pharsalia's Plain ; Where e're I Fought , your Beauty did afford Strength to my Arm , and Sharpness to my Sword , And all the fair Success I had in Arms , Were the Effects of your Bright Beauties Charms , Which in my Breast did first this Passion move , And now has Rais'd me Equal to your Love , Since I without a Rival am become Master of all the World and Head of Rome : These are the Titles that my Valour gave , Which love innobles by the name of Slave , And I am more than Blest if you approve , And perfect the Success of humble Love. Cleop. These Honours are too great , I needs must know What Cleopatra does to Caesar owe , And should I nicely still conceal my Flame , I must my Love and Reason too Disclaim ; Your high Affections did my Child-hood grace , When Beauty only Budded in my Face , Then first you gave , and since restor'd my Crown , After all this I must a Passion own , And that my Heart no longer can exclude , The force of Love and that of Gratitude ; But yet alas my glorious Birth and Fate , The Restoration of my Crown and State , And all the Honours I from you enjoy , My better Hopes and my Desires Destroy , If Rome be still the same , my Lofty Throne Instead of Raising , casts me lower down , And marks of Regal power , like Brands of shame , Render me more Unworthy of your Flame . Yet I dare hope , since I your Power know , And what the Gods to so much Virtue owe , That I by you this haughty Rome shall see , Bound in the Golden Chains of Monarchy ; Then she shall soon forget the Cruel hate , She always bore to Kings , while yet a State , Growing Enamour'd of your Scepters awe , Whilst your Examples serve her for a Law ; She shall from you far Nobler Maxims take , And Love all Princes for her Caesar's sake . How well may I expect this Change of Rome , From him that could great Pompey overcome ? Your Power I know can greater Wonders do , And I implore no other God but you . Caesar. When Love bids Caesar use his utmost Force , Wonders grow easie , and ne're stop my Course ; My Ensigns stain'd with Gore should I display , I in a March might Conquer Africa , And the Remains of my Despised Foes , Would to my Arms , their Flying Backs oppose , Then wanting Power , this proud , this haughty Rome , Should Caesars servil Flatterer become ; At my return she shall our Triumph meet , And cast her Pride and Hatred at your feet , And whilst I here persue my glorious Fate , She shall e're long become my Advocate , And with all humble Duty beg a Race Of glorious Caesars from your Chaste imbrace . This Fruit I hope from my Victorious Bays , Rather than large Dominion or high Praise ; But e're I reach this height of Happiness , I must forsake all that I now possess . Oh that my Foes were Men so void of Fear , That they durst come and bid me Battel here ; Now at too dear a Rate I Conquest buy , Since I lose you to gain a Victory ; But this my Fondness Love will disallow , To gain you ever I must leave you now ; Where e're they fly I thither must remove , To perfect Conquest and deserve your Love : But e're I go from those all Conquering Eyes , Let me receive the Soul of Victories , That all my Foes may cry struck with pale Dread , He comes , he sees , and we are Conquered . Cleop. Too much great Sir , I must such Love abuse , Which makes me Sin , and will my Fault excuse ; You gave me Freedome , Life , and Scepter too , Which gives me Confidence to Trouble you ; And I Conjure you by Loves powerfull Charms , By the Success which still attends your Arms , By your fair Hopes and mine , by all that 's good , You would not Die my Royal Robes in Blood : Be gracious Sir , and pardon , or let me , As my first Act of Soveraignty ; Photin and Achillas we should Disdain , And they are Punish'd now they see me Reign , And this their Crime — Caesar. — Ah take some other way , To shew your Power , how soon should I obey ? But this my Queen is more than Tyranny , To lay their Baseness and their Crimes on me . Some Worthier Subjects to your Mercy take , And think what 's done already for your Sake , That with the King himself I dare dispence , Were not my Flames —

Scene the Fourth . Caesar , Cornelia , Cleopatra , Achoreus , Antonius , Lepidus , Charmion and Romans . Cornel. CAesar , make some Defence , They have Design'd thy Death , and that thy Blood With Pompey's Gore should make one Purple flood . If not prevented , this their close Compact , The Bloody Villains straight will put in Act. My Slaves are in , from them by Tortures try To know the Depth of this Conspiracy , For I Disclaim them . Caesar. These are Resentments of a Roman heart , Worthy the man of whom you were a part , His Manes sure , who saw that this my Care Of his Revenge did my own Death prepare , Have so forgot our Quarrel and all Hate , They 're now the Guardian Angels of my Fate , And in a Gratefull and far Nobler strife , By you his Living part have sav'd my Life . In spight of all that Treachery could do , Pompey 's not Dead , he still Survives in you ; His noble Soul did in your Breast make stay , To Vanquish Caesar this most Generous way . Cornel. Thou art become thine own base Flatterer . Canst thou believe that I will ought preferr To my Revenge ? no , the deplored Fate Of my Dead Lord , so just a cause of Hate , Shall ever be of Force to Disallow All terms of Reconcilement 'twixt us two . My promis'd Liberty , let me enjoy , That I that freedome wholly may employ To thy Destruction , for where e're I go Each man I meet I 'le strive to make thy Foe , And in the Quarrel of my Murder'd Lord , Engage the World , if thou dar'st keep thy word ; I will pursue thee with a Changeless hate , Yet here prevent thy base Assassinate ; For my Desires on Juster grounds are Built , Than to obtain them by so foul a Guilt . Caesar. Madam , but that your Self my Death prevent , You 'd been at once Reveng'd and Innocent . Cornel. Who knows and suffers it , does Guilty grow ; I wish thy Death , but as a noble Foe , That none but Pompey's Sons their Hands should stain , In the high Blood of Caesar nobly Slain ; Who Arm'd with brave Revenge , shall at the Head Of all thy Dreadfull Legions strike thee Dead , And to my Hero's Ghost a Victim make , Whose just Revenge you Nobly undertake . T' obtain an intire Vengeance I 'le ingage All th' Active powers of Wit inspir'd by Rage ; Thy Life is Threatn'd , I am thy Defence , My Hate is full of Care and Providence : For now I need not in some forein Coast : Go seek Revenge , which so deferr'd were lost , Nor for Joves Thunder travel Africks Sands , I see it Graspt already in thy Hands ; No Mortal power can the Stroak prevent , On thee I might have turn'd the Punishment , But that my Reason forc'd me to preferr My Pompey's Victor to his Murderer . Nor am I so with Rage and Passion blind , But that my Honour too engag'd I find , To punish the Audacious Treachery Of their base Crimes , before thy Victory . Great Rome will have it so , who else would spread Her sacred Fore-head with a blushing Red , That both her Noblest Heads at once should feel , Though Crown'd with Lawrel , an unworthy Steel ; And her great Heart which thou believ'st ( in vain ) So shrunk as for to suffer thee to Reign , Would count thy Murderers more her Enemies , And her Adored Liberty despise : None but a Roman could impose the Yoak , Which by a Roman only must be broke ; Thy Ruine here , Heav'ns Justice would prevent , And be a Crime instead of Punishment , Defrauding my Just Vengeance , and Mankind , Of that Example thou should'st leave behind . Do thou Revenge great Rome of Aegypts crime , And I 'le revenge Her if I can of thine ; But now make haste to save thy Threaten'd Life , And boast thou wert preserv'd by Pompey's Wife . Exeunt .

Scene the Fifth . Caesar , Cleopatra , Antonius , Lepidus , Achoreus , Charmion . Caesar. HEr noble Rage and their bold Crime alike My Soul with Wonder and Amazement strike . Are these the Men great Queen you 'd have me save ? Cleop. Your gracious pardon for my Self I crave , Your Justice I no longer will prevent , Go Sir , and give them their due Punishment . These Traitors most of all My Death desire , Against my Crown and Person they conspire , You being my Support , they but design Your Death and Ruine to make way to mine . Just were my Anger , yet I must with grief Remember that their Leader and their Chief Is still my Brother , may I hope again To tempt your Pity and this Sute obtain ▪ That when just Rage inflames your noble Breast , You would Distinguish Him from all the rest ? Caesar. I will , and must preserve him , for this Arm , Where you would save , can have no power to harm . Despise all fear , these base Assassinates Can ne're Subvert or Change our glorious Fates ; Exposing but a Gibbet to their sight , A Band of Hangmen puts them all to flight , Who shall , to work upon their Guilty fear , My Rods and Axes for their Ensigns bear . [ Exit Caesar and Romans . Cleop. Good Achoreus , where so e're he goes , Be still with Caesar , aid him 'gainst my Foes , And when their Blood imbrues his angry Blade , Urge thou the promise he so lately made ; Be carefull of the King , avert my Fears , And spare his Blood that I may spare my Tears . Acho. Madam , if all my Diligence and Care Can save his Life , you have no cause to fear . Exeunt omnes .

Act Fifth ,

Scene First . Cornelia , Philip. Cornel. AM I awake , or does some Dream obtrude These borrow'd Shapes my Fancy to delude ? Eyes may I trust you ? do I Philip see , Or my Fond wishes make me think 't is he ? To my Dead Lord , are his last Honours paid , And in this Urn his Noble Ashes laid ? Sad , but dear Object , though thou hast possest With restless Passions my afflicted Breast , Expect no Tears , ( our feebler Sexes arms ) My Cares have no Divertion by those Charms , They whose weak Grief has leisure to Complain , May hope that way t' Extenuate their pain ; But all the Gods to witness here I call , These Ashes too , which are above them all ▪ With me , 't is just , this Heart they rule alone , To which such Tyrants all the rest are grown . By you then Sacred Reliques here I Vow ( The Highest powers I acknowledge now ) To let no Time , nor other Mean abate My just Revenge , and too well grounded Hate ; Thy Pompey , Rome , by Aegypts King betraid , To Caesar here a Sacrifice was made , And I thy Walls will never see again , Till Priest and God be on his Altar slain . And you dear Ashes aid my just design , Imprint it deep within this Breast of mine , And in each Heart , of what I feel , inspire The like at least , if not so great desire . But tell me Philip , by what happy way Could'st thou this Duty to thy Master pay ? To thy Assistance what good Angel came , Helping to Light the Poor but Pious Flame ? Phil. Smeard with his Blood , less sensible than he , And wanting Breath to curse their Cruelty , Madam , at length I bent my Doubtfull course , Where the Rough Winds the Waves on Shore did force , Long did I search in Vain , at last hard by A ●ank of Sand , the loved Corps I spy ; Now it ee'n toucht the Shore , and now again The wanton Billows threw it to the main , Thus still he seem'd to be the sport of Fate , Not freed by Death from Fortunes constant hate ; I staid no longer , but leapt in and bore The sacred Reliques in my Arms a Shore ; Hard by some pieces of a Wrack there lay , Such as chance only offer'd in my way ▪ With these a Funeral pile I rudely dress , The time and place might have afforded less , And now the Body scarce had felt the Flame , When to my pious Cares a Partner came ; Cordus a Roman from the Town does stray , And the kind Heav'n guided his steps that way ; The Headless Trunk when once he did but view , By the sad marks he straight great Pompey knew ; His Eyes then full of Tears , O thou , he crys , Whom Fate hath Destind to so high a Prize , Instead of Punishment which thou mayst fear , Honour attends thee , and Reward is near ; Caesar arriv'd does to the World proclame , Himself Revenger of that sacred Name , To which in silence thou dost here direct , The mournfull Tribute of thy last respect ; Cornelia too forc't to this fatal Land , Thou maist present these Ashes to her Hand , With Reverence such , the Victor does her treat , None but the Gods can claim respect so great . This said , he runs while still the Corps does burn Back to the Town , and with him brought this Urn , Where of your Hero now inclos'd doth lie ▪ All that was Mortal , or knew how to Dye . Cornel. Such Piety , what e're my Fortune be , The Gods can never Unrewarded see . Phil. Scarce had I entred , when i' th' Crowded street An Armed Rout I in disorder meet ▪ Hasting unto the Gate , at which their King Expected was some Greater strength to bring ; Each thinks , though safe , the Roman Sword he feels , And makes no step , but C●●sar's at his Heels , He Reeking in their Blood , was in a round Of Armed Troops , and with his Legions Crown'd , I' th' midst , Photinus by his Sentence stands , Yielding his hated Head to th' Hangmans hands , As soon as in his sight I did appear , He knew me straight , and bid me to draw near , My Masters Ashes from my Arms he took , And to his Listning Audience thus spoke , Ye Reliques of a Hero , whose great Fame I scarce can Equal with a Conquerours name , See how the Traitor does to Justice pay Life , which from you his Treachery took away , Receive this Sacrifice , and then expect The Altars we e're long to you erect , Where greater Victims shall be offer'd . Friend Thee to Cornelia with this Gift I send , To her griev'd Heart carry this weak allay , While to her full Revenge I make my way . He left me with a Sigh , and having first Kissed the Urn , bequeath'd it to my trust . Cornel. Alas , 't is no intolerable pain They feel , who for a Rivals loss complain ; Well may he spend a Sigh upon this Urn , Whose restless fears to softer pity turn ; Well may he run to his Revenge with haste , When his own Danger spurrs him on as fast , Since the Concern he puts on for our Fate , Both gains him Glory , and secures his State : ●ut Caesar's Noble , nor will I suspect What Grief and Envy justly might Object . His Rivals Death has ended all their strife , And this false King conspires against his Life ; His peril Arms him now , and all that 's done On Honours score must not Consus'dly run ; Love too 's ingag'd , and Cleopatra draws The Sword that seems to favour Pompeys cause ; So many Interests in this Action joyn , I need not think , that he considers mine ; Yet I 'le perswade my Self he Fights for me , Because I 'de do no less , if I were he , For noble Minds must on themselves reflect , Their guess at others Meaning to direct .

Scene the Second . Cleopatra , Cornelia , Philip , Charmion . Cleop. I Come not here , to interrupt the Course Of those just Tears your powerfull Griefs inforce ; Madam , I can no more than you neglect What this Urn justly may from me expect ; Your Hero's Reliques by a pious hand Restor'd , this duty too from me Command ; Be pleas'd t' admit to these his Funeral Rites A fellow Mourner whom true Grief invites , And had my Power been equal to my Will , This bewail'd Hero had been Living still , I had preserv'd the Owner of your Heart , If cruel Heav'n had let me play my part ; Yet if the sight of what it now does send Could for a while your Sadder thoughts suspend , If by Revenge your Sorrows might decrease , I bring you News that cannot fail to please , If yet you know it not , Photinus's Head. Cornel. Yes , Princess , I have heard the Traitor 's Dead . Cleop. His hastned Suffering makes the more amends . Cornel. Perhaps to you , who in that meet your ends . Cleop. Wish't for Success to all must pleasant be . Cornel. Where Interests differ how can Thoughts agree ? If false Achillas the same Course should run , Your Vengeance ends when mine is scarce begun . I Blush to think that to my Hero's Shade , So poor a Sacrifice as that is made : No , if in order my Revenge succeed , Till Caesar's turn , your Ptolomey must bleed . I know that Caesar by your Love inclin'd , To save him though unworthy has design'd , But the just Gods will make his Labour vain , For one deserving neither Life , nor Reign , And to my Prayers perhaps this grace afford , That both may perish by each others Sword ; Then joy once more might be a welcome Guest , VVhich else for ever is forbid this Breast ; But if my Bolder wishes fly too high , May your King bleed , if only one must Dye . Cleop. The Gods not always give what we expect . Cornel. Yet by the Cause we hope for the Effect , And seldome 't is the Guilty miss their due . Cleop. Though Gods have Justice , they have Mercy too Cornel. Yet by the Course they have begun to Chuse , 'T is not their Clemency they mean to use . Cleop. Though Angry once , they often Milder grow . Cornel. Our wishes only our Concernment show . An injur'd VViddow may have other Thoughts , Than a kind Sister for a Brothers faults ; But when 't is known what Blood is spilt , you 'l see VVhose Prayers are Juster , and with Heav'n agree . Here comes Achoreus .

Scene the Third . Cornelia , Cleopatra , Philip , Charmion , Achoreus . Cleop. ALas , in 's Looks I see Th' unlucky marks of some ill Angury ; Speak good Achoreus , but without disguise , Banish my Fears , or else my Joy surprize . Acho. VVhen Caesar first the Horrid Treason knew — Cleop. Ah! 't is not that which I expect from you ; I know he Barricadoed up the Vault , Through which they hop't to have their Succours brought , There 'gainst Photinus all his Force he drew , VVho found the Recompence to Treason due . Achillas warn'd by his Companions fate , Escapes with ease at the abandon'd Gate , Him the King follows , whilst Antonius Lands , To joyn with Caesar all the Roman Bands ; I doubt not but they 've Fought , and by this time Achillas is Rewarded for his Crime . Acho. Madam , Success still waits on Caesar's Sword. Cleop. That 's not the business , has he kept his Word ? And is my Brother safe ? Acho. All he could do He has perform'd . Cleop. That 's all I wish to know . Madam , you see the Gods my Pray'rs have heard . Cornel. The Punishment deserv'd , is but Deferr'd . Cleop. That now he 's Sav'd , declares Heav'n is appeas'd . Acho. At least he had been , if himself had pleas'd . Cleop. Thy doubtfull Words still hold me in suspence ; Explane at last their ill Agreeing Sense . Acho. Neither your Vows , nor Caesars , and your Care , Were Arms enough against his High despair ; Madam , he 's Dead , yet all those Glories wait Upon him that can Crown a Princes fate , Nearer his fall his Virtue more revives , Changing his Own for many Roman Lives ; To his brave Charge Antonius 'gan to yield , And our disordered Troops scarce kept the Field , When Caesar comes , whose presence never fails Of doubtfull Chance to turn the Tottering Scales ; There at his Masters feet Achillas fell The Traitor ne're deserv'd to Dye so well . Ah! too weak Providence , which cannot free The Bed of Honour from Adultery , Caesar crys out aloud to save the King , Words which instead of Comfort Terrour bring ; For he suspects that from Design they came , To keep him for a Scaffolds publique shame , His swelling Heart with this mistake abus'd , Seeks for that Death , which every where 's refus'd : Our Ranks he peirces through and through , and shows What Valour can , when to Despair it grows ; His Bravest men lay Breathless on the ground , And he himself was now Incompass'd round ; Wearied at length , and out of Breath , he spies A Vessel near the Shore and thither flies , After their King the People press so fast , The Bark o'recharged perishes at last ; Dying in Arms new Glory he receives , To you a Crown , to Caesar Conquest leaves , Who on the place Proclames you Aegyts Queen ; Yet in his Face strange marks of Grief are seen , He mourns his Fall , though none of his did touch The Life wherein you are concern'd so much : But here he comes , who better can relate His Sense of that Unhappy Princes Fate .

Scene the Fourth . Caesar , Cornelia , Cleopatra , Achoreus , &c. Cornel. CAesar my Voyage now no more Retard , The Traitors have receiv'd their full Reward , Their King against thy Will has suffer'd too , And my Revenge has nothing here to do ; This barbarous Shore let me no longer View , Where every Object does my Grief renew , And with fresh Horrour to my Fancy shows , The Tragick Scene of my unequall'd Woes ; The Rabble Court thee with their Servile noise , And thy new Triumph all their Throats imploys , But what I suffer worse than all the rest , I am Oblig'd by him , I most Detest ; From this Affront 't is time to set me free , And let my Hatred act with Liberty , Only one favour I may still receive , And that is all which Honour gives me leave , That Pompey's Head you will to me return , To add to what Expects it in this Urn. Caesar. 'T is fit I should the Head to you restore , Since you may Claim it on so just a score ; But first let 's all the Sacred Rites attend , Which peacefull Ghosts unto Elizium send ; A stately Pile your Hand and mine shall Light , Which may the Meanness of the first requite , And in an Urn more fit for their repose , The Ashes thus United wee 'l inclose , So shall his quiet Spirit rest in peace , And by our Pious cares all Passion cease . This Hand which once my Sword against him Drew , Shall Build the Altars to his Virtue due , On which as to the Gods wee 'l Incense pay , And Honours he deserves as well as they ; Let us both this from your Impatience gain , And for those Duties one Day more obtain , That done , y' are free , go when you please away , And this your Treasure to great Rome Convey . Cornel. No Caesar , though I know these Ashes be As dear to Rome , as they are dear to me , 'T is only thy Defeat can bring us home , Without that Triumph we will ne're see Rome ; Over thy Grave our Passage thither lies , We have no Country , untill Caesar Dyes , I am for Africk , where the Warr's begun , By Cato , Scipio , and my Pompey's Son ; To these King Juba has his Forces sent , And Fortune her Injustice may repent , The Reliques of Pharsalia there you 'l find , Another World against your Arms combind ; My self will bring these Ashes to the Field , And my just Tears shall their Assistance yield , From Rank to Rank thus Arm'd about I 'le go , And every step shall haste thy Overthrow ; The Souldiers then may lay their Eagles by , This Urn shall lead them on to Victory , This mournfull Object shall their Courage wake , And in their Souls a deep Impression make . To give him his last Honours you pretend , Honours indeed which on your Self descend , I must Assist , the Victor I obey , But never hope to move my Heart this way ; My Helpless loss admits of no relief , My Hate must be as endless as my Grief , That and my Life an Equal course shall run , And end Persuing what I have Begun . Caesar. Nature her Ignorance has here confest , To place this Spirit in a Womans Breast . Cornel. Yet as a Roman I must needs confess , My Hate prevails not to Esteem thee less , At once I Praise thee and thy Life persue , That to thy Virtue , this my Honour due ; Once set at Liberty , I 'le use my Art , T' engage both Men and Gods to take my part , Those Gods who when our Cause was lately tryd , So Partial seem'd against the Juster side ; Those Gods that let their Thunder idle lye , When they saw Pompey for his Country Dye , In time we hope their Errour they may see , And to the VVorld repair that Injury ; But though they never mend the Fault they made , I have a Zeal which does not want their Aid , And to Destroy thee , if no means prevail , Here 's Cleopatra that can never fail . I see your Flames , and know her Beauties force , That you already think of a Divorce , Your Country's Laws under your Feet you 'l tread , To make your way to an Aegyptians Bed , Then the free Romans shall attempt your Life , VVithout all Scruple , when a Queen 's your VVife . In your neglected Friends , you 'l hope in vain , VVho in your Blood will wash their Countrys stain . Keeping your word , Farewell , for in my stay Your Love and Ruine find the same Delay . [ Exit .

Scene the Fifth . Cleopatra , Caesar , Achoreus , &c. RAther than Caesar's Life expos'd shall be Unto these Dangers for the Love of me , I 'le Sacrifice my Self to his repose , And Bless that Death , from whence his Safety grows , Sure in his Memory of a better Life , Though too Unworthy to have Liv'd his Wife . Caesar. Madam , when only Vain designs are left , To such high Spirits of all means bereft , Nothing their Weakness does so well express , As Aiming high because they can do less ; Kind Heav'n will make these ill Presages vain , And my unwonted Fortune mock their pain . Ah! Could my Love as easie Conquest find Over these Tears , and Calm your Troubled mind , With such a Lover 't is no small Disgrace , The worst of Brothers should dispute the place . You may have heard with what Unwearied care I sought to save him from his last Despair , My Clemency had so Beset him round , No way t' avoid it , but his Death was found ; Perhaps h 'had Conquer'd , could my Arms but know Resistance such as to my Love you shew : Success in Vain , why didst thou with me stay , Since Cleopatra I could not Obey ? Not justly me , but Heav'n you must accuse , Which to the Guilty pardon does refuge , Their Cruelty to him Exalts your Fate , Now the Sole Mistress of th' Aegyptian state . Cleop. 'T is true , his Death has plac'd me on the Throne , And that by no Miscarriage of my own . While among Mortals here , my Lord , we stay , Some Cloud will still O'recast our brightest Day . Be not offended though it strange appears , I must receive the Conquerour with Tears ; His Fate was just my Reason does perswade , Yet Nature too must be as well Obey'd ; A secret Murmur in my Soul does rise , If on his empty Throne I cast my Eyes , T' ascend it then what pleasure can I take , When my Blood checks me at each step I make ? Acho. My Lord , at Gate th' impatient people stand , And with loud Crys to see their Queen demand , Accusing those as Authors of their Wrong , Who such a Blessing do Retard so long . Caesar. Madam , let 's go , and with the same success Begin your Empire and their Happiness , And now I hope amidst their Loud applause , Your Sighs will cease Drown'd with that welcome Noise ; And let no Image in your Fancy rest , Of other Wounds than what are in my Breast ; Mean while a Noble strife I see will Reign , 'Twixt your glad Court and my Ambitious train ; Contending who shall there appear most Gay , And Glory most in this Triumphant Day , Such just occasion for them both are found , Pompey Reveng'd , and Cleopatra Crown'd ; These to your Throne , those to his Altars bow , And I to both Eternal Honours Vow .

FINIS .

EPILOGUE AT THE HOUSE . I Know you Look for 't , something we must say , Either to Praise or to Excuse the Play ; Custom will have it so , and we Obey . It came from France , where it had good Success , Which makes us Hope well , though I must confess The Mounsieur's something Alter'd in his Dress . That you may Cavil at , and we submit ; But know you mighty Judges o' the Pit , 'T is dangeroue at this time to shew your Wit. If by Condemning this you stir our Rage , Wee 'l those , who but Translaters were , engage To bring their own Inventions on the Stage . Tremble and be advis'd ; but I was sent Ladies to you with a great Complement , To say the Truth , I knew not what it meant , And so forgot it , pardon want of care With the same mercy as the Play you spare , And though twice Kind you 're not so Kind as Fair. Your Favours with some Justice we may claim , The Lines are Chast and Spotless as your Fame . Ah , let not modest Men still bear the blame .

EPILOGUE To the King at Saint James's . FRom Vulgar Wits that haunt the Theater , Pompey to you appealing ( Royal Sir ) Hopes for more Favour , as the Subject bears Better proportion to a Princes Ears . You in your long Retreat perhaps might find Some Forein Courts made by this Story kind ; This great Example of false Aegypts fate , Instructed Kings to set a higher Rate Upon their Faith , and hold their Fame too dear , To treat him Ill , for whom we Languish'd here . They that Translated this , but practice now To improve their Muse , and make her Worthy you , That she hereafter may Adorn the Stage With your own Story , make the coming Age Admire the Firmness of a Mind so Young , Tost in those Tempests you indur'd so long . Confusion first and Horrour shall appear , Such as Involv'd us , while you Absent were , Then with a Change of Scene they shall behold Your Throne Establish'd , and an Age of Gold ; Faith , Peace , and Piety , that banish'd Train , Let down from Heav'n to make a Glorious Reign . This they design ( Great Sir ) if you allow A Gracious Smile to their Endeavours now .

EPILOGUE To the Dutchess at Saint James's . POmpey at length , like Ships by Tempests Tost , Though blown a while upon some other Coast , Has overcome the Malice of the Wind , And reach'd the Haven which he first design'd , This Royal Audience , and such Virtue brought , As Madam only in your Court is taught . Cornelia does not tear her tender Cheeks , Nor your more gentle Ears with borrow'd Shrieks : But does lament with Passion , such as you ( Which Heaven avert ) in the like Case would do . Fair Cleopatra does no Favour show , But what severest Virtue might allow : And mighty Caesar does her Slave become , With as much Honour as he Conquer'd Rome , When first unsheathing his Victorious Sword , He seem'd the pattern of your Valiant Lord , Whose matchless Conduct might our Lions lead , As far as e're the Roman Eagle spread . And , Royal Pair , though much he apprehends Your Doom , yet more he on your Grace depends ; He knows your Gen'rous temper cannot frown On minds so Great , so High , so like your own ; He knows your Nature is inclin'd to spare , And no Photinus can infect your Ear. FINIS .