SCENE II.

Enter PHOTINUS, ACHILLAS, SEPTIMIUS, and Soldiers.

Pho. There's no retiring now; we are broke in;

The deed past hope of pardon. If we prosper,
'Twill be stiled lawful, and we shall give laws
To those, that now command us: Stop not at
Or loyalty, or duty; bold ambition

To dare, and power to do, gave the first difference
Between the king and subject. Cæsar's motto,
Aut Cæsar aut nihil, each of us must claim,
And use it as our own.

Achil. The deed is bloody,

If we conclude in Ptolomy's death.
Pho. The better;

The globe of empire must be so manured.
Sept. Rome, that from Romulus first took her

name,

Had her walls watered with a crimson shower, Drained from a brother's heart; nor was she raised

To this prodigious height, that overlooks
Three full parts of the earth, that pay her tribute,
But by enlarging of her narrow bounds,
By the sack of neighbour cities, not made hers
'Till they were cemented with the blood of those,
That did possess them: Cæsar, Ptolomy,
Now I am steeled, to me are empty names,
Esteemed as Pompey's was.

Pho. Well said, Septimius!

Thou now art right again.

Achil. But what course take we

For the princess Cleopatra ?

Pho. Let her live

A while, to make us sport; she shall authorize
Our undertakings to the ignorant people,
As if what we do were by her command:
But, our triumvirate government once confirmed,
She bears her brother company: That's my pro-
vince;

Leave me to work her.

Achil. I will undertake

For Ptolomy.

Sept. Cæsar shall be my task;

And as in Pompey I began a name,
I'll perfect it in Cæsar!

Enter above, CESAR, PTOLOMY, ACHOREUS,
APOLLODORUS, ANTONY, and DOLABELLA.
Pho.. 'Tis resolved then;

We'll force our passage.
Achil. See, they do appear,

As they desired a parley.

Pho. I am proud yet

I have brought them to capitulate.

Ptol. Now, Photinus?

Pho. Now, Ptolomy!
Ptol. No addition!

Pho. We are equal,

Though Cæsar's name were put into the scale, In which our worth is weighed.

Casar. Presumptuous villain!

Upon what grounds hast thou presumed to raise
Thy servile hand against the king? or me,
That have a greater name?

Pho. On those, by which

Thou didst presume to pass the Rubicon
Against the laws of Rome; and, at the name
Of traitor, smile, as thou didst, when Marcellus,
The consul, with the senate's full consent,
Pronounced thee for an enemy to thy country:
Yet thou went'st on, and thy rebellious cause
Was crowned with fair success. Why should we
fear, then?

Think on that, Cæsar!

Casar. Oh, the gods! be braved thus? And be compelled to bear this from a slave, That would not brook great Pompey his superior! Achil. Thy glories now have touched the highest point,

And must descend.

Pho. Despair, and think we stand The champions of Rome, to wreak her wrongs, Upon whose liberty thou hast set thy foot.

Sept. And that the ghosts of all those noble
Romans,

That by thy sword fell in this civil war,
Expect revenge.

Ant. Darest thou speak, and remember
There was a Pompey?

Pho. There's no hope to 'scape us!

If that, against the odds we have upon you,
You dare come forth and fight, receive the honour
To die like Romans; if ye faint, resolve
To starve like wretches! I disdain to change
Another syllable with you.

Ant. Let us die nobly;

[Exeunt PHO. ACHIL. SEPT And rather fall upon each other's sword, Than come into these villains' hands.

Casar. That fortune,

Which to this hour hath been a friend to Cæsar, Though for a while she cloathe her brow with frowns,

Will smile again upon me: Who will pay her
Or sacrifice, or vows, if she forsake
Her best of works in me? or suffer him,
Whom with a strong hand she hath led triumphant
Through the whole western world, and Rome ac-
knowledged

Her sovereign lord, to end ingloriously
Must, by a way more horrid, be avoided,
A life admired by all? The threaten'd danger
And I will run the hazard. Fire the palace,
And the rich magazines that neighbour it,
In which the wealth of Egypt is contained!
Start not; it shall be so; that while the people
Labour in quenching the ensuing flames,
Like Cæsar, with this handful of my friends,
Through fire, and swords, I force a passage to
My conquering legions. King, if thou darest, fol-

low,

Sept. I feel my resolution melts again, And that I am not knave alone, but fool, In all my purposes. This devil Photinus Employs me as a property, and, grown useless, Will shake me off again: He told me so, When I killed Pompey; nor can I hope better, When Cæsar is dispatched. Services done For such as only study their own ends, Too great to be rewarded, are returned With deadly hate: I learned this principle In his own school. Yet still he fools me; well; And yet he trusts me: Since I in my nature Was fashioned to be false, wherefore should I, That killed my general, and a Roman, one To whom I owed all nourishments of life, Be true to an Egyptian? To save Cæsar, And turn Photinus' plots on his own head, (As it is in my power) redeem my credit, And live, to lie, and swear again in fashion, Oh, 'twere a master-piece! Ha! curse me! Cæsar? How's he got off?

Enter CESAR, PTOLOMY, ANTONY, DOLABELLA, ACHOREUS, APOLLODORUS, and Soldiers.

Casar. The fire has took,

And shews the city like a second Troy;
The navy too is scorched; the people greedy
To save their wealth and houses, while their
soldiers

Make spoil of all: Only Achillas' troops
Make good their guard; break through them, we
are safe.

I'll lead you like a thunderbolt!

Sept. Stay, Cæsar.

Casar. Who's this? the dog Septimius?
Ant. Cut his throat.

Dol. You barked but now; fawn you so soon?
Sept. Oh, hear me !

What I'll deliver is for Cæsar's safety,
For all your good.

Ant. Good from a mouth like thine,

That never belched but blasphemy and treason,

On festival days!

Sept. I'm an altered man,

Altered indeed; and I will give you cause

To say I am a Roman.

Dol. Rogue, I grant thee.

Sept. Fall me fairly on their throats: Their heads cut off and shorn, the multitude Will easily disperse.

Cæsar. Oh, devil! away with him!
Nor true to friend nor enemy? Cæsar scorns
To find his safety, or revenge his wrongs,
So base a way; or owe the means of life
To such a leprous traitor! I have towered
| For victory, like a falcon in the clouds,
Not digged for't, like a mole. Our swords, and
cause,

Make way for us: And that it may appear
We took a noble course, and hate base treason,
Some soldiers, that would merit Cæsar's favour,
Hang him on yonder turret, and then follow
The lane, this sword makes for you.

1 Sold. Here's a belt; Though I die for it, I'll use it. 2 Sold. 'Tis too good

To truss a cur in.

Sept. Save me! here is gold.
1 Sold. If Rome

[Exit.

and easy,

For your escape.

Ant. I'll trust the devil sooner,

And make a safer bargain.

Sept. I am trusted

With all Photinus' secrets.

Ant. There's no doubt then,
Thou wilt be false.

Sept. Still to be true to you.
Dol. And very likely.
Casar. Be brief; the means?
Sept. Thus, Cæsar:

Circle us round!

Enter PHOTINUS.

Eros. Oh, a man in arms!

His weapon drawn too!

Cleo. Though upon the point

Death sat, I'll meet it, and out-dare the danger. Pho. Keep the watch strong; and guard the passage sure,

That leads unto the sea.

Cleo. What sea of rudeness

Breaks in upon us? or what subject's breath
Dare raise a storm, when we command a calm?
Are duty and obedience fled to heaven,
And, in their room, ambition and pride
Sent into Egypt? That face speaks thee Photinus,
A thing, thy mother brought into the world
My brother's and my slave: But thy behaviour,
Opposed to that, an insolent intruder
Upon that sovereignty, thou shouldst bow to!
If in the gulph of base ingratitude,
All loyalty to Ptolomy the king

Be swallowed up, remember who I am,
Whose daughter, and whose sister; or, suppose
That is forgot too, let the name of Cæsar
(Which nations quake at) stop thy desperate mad-

ness

From running headlong on to thy confusion.
Throw from thee quickly those rebellious arms,
And let me read submission in thine eyes;
Thy wrongs to us we will not only pardon,
But be a ready advocate to plead for thee
To Cæsar and my brother.

Pho. Plead my pardon!

To you I bow; but scorn as much to stoop thus
To Ptolomy, to Cæsar, nay the gods,
As to put off the figure of a man,

And change my essence with a sensual beast:
All my designs, my counsels, and dark ends,
Were aimed to purchase you.

Cleo. How durst thou, being

The scorn of baseness, nourish such a thought! Pho. They, that have power, are royal; and those base,

That live at the devotion of another.
What birth gave Ptolomy, or fortune Cæsar,
By engines fashioned in this Protean anvil,
I have made mine; and only stoop at you,
Whom I would still preserve free, to command me.
For Cæsar's frowns, they are below my thoughts;
And, but in these fair eyes I still have read
The story of a supreme monarchy,

To which all hearts, with mine, gladly pay tri bute,

Photinus' name had long since been as great
As Ptolomy's e'er was, or Cæsar's is.
This made me, as a weaker tie, to unloose
The knot of loyalty, that chained my freedom,
And slight the fear, that Cæsar's threats might

And cannot hear thee: Or, with open eyes Did Jove look on us, I would laugh and swear That his artillery is cloyed by me:

Or, if that they have power to hurt, his bolts Are in my hand.

Cleo. Most impious!

Pho. They are dreams,

Religious fools shake at. Yet to assure thee,
If Nemesis, that scourges pride and scorn,
Be any thing but a name, she lives in me;
For, by myself (an oath to me more dreadful
Than Styx is to your gods) weak Ptolomy dead,
And Cæsar, both being in my toil, remov❜d,
The poorest rascals that are in my camp
Shall, in my presence, quench their lustful heat
In thee, and young Arsinoe, while I laugh
To hear you howl in vain. I deride those gods,
That you think can protect you!

Cleo. To prevent thee,

In that I am the mistress of my fate, So hope I of my sister: to confirm it, I spit at thee, and scorn thee!

Pho. I will tame

'Tis deadly aconite to my cold heart;

It choaks my vital spirits! Where was your care? Did the guards sleep?

Achil. He roused them with his sword; (We talk of Mars, but I am sure his courage Admits of no comparison but itself!)

And, as inspired by him, his following friends, With such a confidence as young eaglets prey, Under the large wing of their fiercer dam, Brake through our troops, and scattered them. He went on,

But still pursued by us: When, on the sudden, He turned his head, and from his eyes flew terror,| Which struck in us no less fear and amazement, Than if we had encounter'd with the lightning, Hurled from Jove's cloudy brow.

Cleo. 'Twas like my Cæsar!

Achil. We fallen back, he made on; and, as
our fear

Had parted from us with his dreadful looks,
Again we followed: But, got near the sea,
On which his navy anchored, in one hand
Holding a scroll he had above the waves,
And in the other grasping fast his sword,
As it had been a trident forged by Vulcan
To calm the raging ocean, he made away,
As if he had been Neptune; his friends, like
So many Tritons, followed, their bold shouts

Mountains fall on me! Oh, for him to die,
That placed his heaven on earth, is an assurance
Of his descent to hell! Where shall I hide me?
The greatest daring to a man dishonest,
Is but a bastard courage, ever fainting.
Enter CESAR, SCEVA, ANTONY, and DOLA-

BELLA.

[Exit.

Casar. Look on your Cæsar! banish fear, my fairest ;

You now are safe!

Sce. By Venus, not a kiss

'Till our work be done! The traitors once dispatched,

To it, and we'll cry aim.

Casar. I will be speedy.

[Exeunt CESAR and train.

Cleo. Farewell again!-Arsinoe! How now,
Eros?
Ever faint-hearted?

Eros. But that I am assured
Your excellency can command the general,
I fear the soldiers, for they look as if
They would be nibbling too.

Cleo. He is all honour;

Nor do I now repent me of my favours,
Nor can I think nature e'er made a woman,
That in her prime deserved him.

Enter CÆSAR, SCEVA, ANTONY, Dolabella, and Soldiers, with the heads.

Ars. He's come back.

Casar. Pursue no further; curb the soldiers' fury!

See, beauteous mistress, their accursed heads, That did conspire against us.

Sce. Furies plague them!

They had too fair an end, to die like soldiers: Pompey fell by the sword; the cross or halter Should have dispatched them.

Casar. All's but death, good Sceva;

Be therefore satisfied. And now, my dearest, Look upon Cæsar, as he still appeared,