Chapter 3

_Cæs._ Thy sad complaints fayre Lady cannot chuse, 482 But mooue a heart though made of _Adamant_, And draw to yeeld vnto thy powerfull plaint, I will replant thee in the _Ægiptian_ Throne And all thy wrongs shall _Cæsar's_ vallor right, Ile pull thy crowne from the vsurpers head, And make the Conquered _Ptolomey_ to stoope, And feare by force to wrong a mayden Queene. _Cleo._ Looke as the Earth at her great loues approch, 490 When goulden tressed fayre _Hipperions_ Sonne With those life-lending beames salutes his Spouse, Doth then cast of her moorning widdowes weeds, And calleth her handmayde, forth her flowery fayre, To cloth her in the beauty of the spring, And of fayre primroses, and sweet violets, To make gay Garlonds for to crowne her head. So hath your presence, welcome and fayre sight, That glads the world, comforts poore _Ægipts_ Queene, Who begs for succor of that conquering hand, 500 That as _Ioues_ Scepter this our world doth sway. _Dolo._ Who would refuse to ayde so fayre a Queene. _Lord._ Base bee the mind, that for so sweet a fayre, Would not aduenture more then _Perseus_ did, When as he freed the faire _Andromeda_. _Cæsar._ O how those louely _Tyranizing_ eyes, The Graces beautious habitation, Where sweet desire, dartes woundring shafts of loue: Consume my heart with inward burning heate. Not onely _Ægipt_, but all _Africa_, 510 Will I subiect to _Cleopatras_ name. Thy rule shall stretch from vnknowne _Zanziber_, Vnto those Sandes where high erected poastes. Of great _Alcides_, do vp hold his name, The sunne burnt Indians, from the east shall bring: Their pretious store of pure refined gould, The laboring worme shall weaue the _Africke_ twiste, And to exceed the pompe of _Persian_ Queene, The Sea shall pay the tribute of his pearles. For to adorne thy goulden yellow lockes, 520 Which in their curled knots, my thoughts do hold, Thoughtes captiud to thy beauties conquering power. _Anto._ I marueyle not at that which fables tell, How rauisht _Hellen_ moued the angry _Greeks_, To vndertake eleuen yeares tedious seege, To re-obtayne a beauty so diuine, When I beheld thy sweete composed face. O onely worthy for whose matchles sake, Another seege, and new warres should arise, _Hector_ be dragde about the _Grecian_ campe, 530 And _Troy_ againe consumed with _Grecian_ fire. _Cleo._ Great Prince, what thanks can _Cleopatra_ giue, Nought haue poore Virgins to requite such good: My simple selfe and seruice then vouchsafe, And let the heauens, and he that althings sees. With equall eyes such merits recompence, I doe not seeke ambitiously to rule, And in proud _Africa_ to monarchize. I onely craue that what my father gaue, Who in his last be-hest did dying, will, 540 That I should ioyntly with my brother raigne: _But._ How sweet those words drop from those hunny lips Which whilst she speakes they still each other kisse. _Cæsa_, Raigne, I, stil raigne in _Cæsars_ conquered thoughts, There build thy pallace, and thy sun-bright throne: There sway thy Scepter, and with it beat downe, Those traiterous thoughts (if any dare aryse:) That will not yeeld to thy perfection, To chase thee flying _Pompey_ haue I cut, The great _Ionian_, and _Egean_ seas: 550 And dredeles past the toyling Hellespont, Famous for amorous _Leanders_ death: And now by gentle Fortunes so am blest, As to behold what mazed thoughtes admire: Heauens wonder, Natures and Earths Ornament, And gaze vpon these firy sun-bright eyes: The Heauenly spheares which Loue and Beauty mooue, These Cheekes where Lillyes and red-roses striue, For soueraignty, yet both do equall raigne: The dangling tresses of thy curled haire, 560 Nets weaud to cach our frayle and wandring thoughts: Thy beauty shining like proud _Phoebus_ face, When _Ganges_ glittereth with his radiant beames He on his goulden trapped _Palfreys_ rides, That from their nostrels do the morning blow, Through Heauens great path-way pau'd with shining starres Thou art the fized pole of my Soules ioy, Bout which my resteles thoughts are ouer turn'd: My _Cynthia_, whose glory neuer waynes, Guyding the Tide of mine affections: 570 That with the change of thy imperious lookes, Dost make my doubtfull ioyes to eb and flowe. _Cleo._ Might all the deedes thy hands had ere achiu'd, That make thy farre extolled name to sound: From sun-burnt East vnto the VVestern Iles, VVhich great _Neptnnus_ fouldeth in his armes, It shall not be the least to seat a Maide, And inthronize her in her natiue right. _Lord._ VVhat neede you stand disputing on your right, Or prouing title to the _Ægiptian_ Crowne: 580 Borne to be Queene and Empresse of the world. _An._ On thy perfection let me euer gaze, And eyes now learne to treade a louers maze, Heere may you surfet with delicious store, The more you see, desire to looke the more: Vpon her face a garden of delite, Exceeding far _Adonis_ fayned Bowre, Heere staind white Lyllies spread their branches faire, Heere lips send forth sweete Gilly-flowers smell. And Damasck-rose in her faire cheekes do bud, 590 VVhile beds of Violets still come betweene VVith fresh varyety to please the eye, Nor neede these flowers the heate of _Phoebus_ beames, They cherisht are by vertue of her eyes. O that I might but enter in this bowre, Or once attaine the cropping of the flower. _Cæs._ Now wend we Lords to _Alexandria_, Famous for those wide wondred _Piramids_. Whose towring tops do seeme to threat the skie, And make it proud by presence of my loue: 600 Then _Paphian_ Temples and _Cytherian_ hils, And sacred _Gnidas_ bonnet vaile to it, A fayrer saint then _Venus_ there shall dwell. _Antho._ Led with the lode-starre of her lookes, I go As crazed Bark is toss'd in trobled Seas, Vncertaine to ariue in wished port.

ACT. I. FINIS.

{SN _Chor. II_}

_Enter Discord Flashes of fire._

_Antho._ Now _Cæsar_ hath thy flattering Fortune heapt Those golden gifts and promis'd victories, 610 By fatall signes at _Rubicon_ foretould: Then triumph in thy glorious greatest pride, And boast thou cast the lucky Die so well, Now let the _Triton_ that did sound alarme, In his shrill trump resound the victory, That Heauen and Earth may Ecco of thy fame: Yet thinke in this thy Fortunes Iollity. Though _Cæsar_ be as great as great may be, Yet _Pompey_ once was euen as great as he, And how he rode clad in _Setorius_ spoyles: 620 And the _Sicilian_ Pirats ouerthrowe. Ruling like _Nepoune_ in the mid-land Seas, Who basely now by Land and Sea doth flie, The heauenly _Rectors_ prosecuting wrath, Yet Sea nor Land can shroud him from this iar, O how it ioyes my discord thirsting thoughts, To see them waight, that whilom flow'd in blisse. To see like _Banners_, vnlike quarrels haue. And _Roman_ weapons shethd in _Roman_ blood, For this I left the deepe Infernall shades 630 And past the sad _Auernus_ vgly iawes, And in the world came I, being Discord hight, Discord the daughter of the greesly night. To make the world a hell of plauges and woes, Twas I that did the fatal Aple fling, Betwixt the three _Idean_ goddesses, That so much blood of _Greekes_ and _Troians_ spilt, Twas I that caused the deadly _Thebans_ warre, And made the brothers swell with endlesse hate. And now O _Rome_, woe, woe, to thee I cry 640 Which to the world do bring al misery.

ACTVS 2. SCENA 4. {SN _Act II sc. i_}

_Enter Achillas, and Sempronius._

_Ach._ Here are we placed, by _Ptolomies_ command, To murther _Pompey_ when he comes on shore, Then braue _Sempronius_ prepare they selfe. To execute the charge thou hast in hand, _Sem._ I am a _Romaine_, and haue often serued, Vnder his collours, when in former state, _Pompey_ hath bin the Generall of the field, 650 But cause I see that now the world is changd: And like wise feele some of King _Ptolomeis_ gould. Ile kill him were he twenty Generalls, And send him packing to his longest home. I maruell of what mettell was the _French_ man made. Who when he should haue stabbed _Marius_, They say he was astonished with his lookes. _Marius_, had I beene there, thou neere hadst liu'd, To brag thee of thy seauen Consulships. _Achil._ Brauely resolu'd, Noble _Sempronius_, 660 The damnedst villaine that ere I heard speake: But great men still must haue such instruments, To bring about their purpose, which once donne, The deede they loue, but do the doer hate: Thou shalt no lesse (stout _Romaine_) be renown'd, For being _Pompeys_ Deaths-man, then was he, That fir'd the faire _Ægiptian_ Goddesse Church. _Sem._ Nay that's al one, report say what she list, Tis for no shadowes I aduenture for: Heere are the Crownes, heere are the wordly goods, 670 This betweene Princes doth contention bring: Brothers this sets at ods, turnes loue to hate; It makes the Sonne to wish his Father hang'd That he thereby might reuell with his bagges: And did I knowe that in my Mothers womb, There lurk'd a hidden vaine of Sacred gould, This hand, this sword, should rape and rip it out. _Achil._ Compassion would that greedinesse restraine. _Sem._ I that's my fault, I am to compassionate, Why man, art thou a souldier and dost talke 680 Of womanish pity and compassion? Mens eyes must mil-stones drop, when fooles shed teares, But soft heeres _Pompey_, Ile about my worke.

_Enter Pompey._

_Pom._ Trusting vpon King _Ptolomeys_ promis'd fayth, And hoping succor, I am come to shore: In _Egipt_ heere a while to make aboade. _Sem._ Fayth longer _Pompey_ then thou dost expect. _Pom._ See now worlds Monarchs, whom your state makes proud That thinke your Honors to be permanent, 690 Of Fortunes change see heere a president, Who whilom did command, now must intreate And sue for that which to accept of late, Vnto the giuer was thought fortunate. _Sem._ I pray thee _Pompey_ do not spend thy breath, In reckning vp these rusty titles now, Which thy ambition grac'd thee with before, I must confesse thou wert my Generall, But that cannot a vaile to saue thy life. Talke of thy Fortune while thou list, 700 There is thy fortune _Pompey_ in my fist. _Pom._ O you that know what hight of honor meanes, What tis for men that lulled in fortunes lap, Haue climd the heighest top of soueraignety. From all that pomp to be cast hed-long downe, You may conceaue what _Pompey_ doth sustayne, I was not wont to walke thus all alone, But to be met with troopes of Horse and Men. With playes and pageants to be entertaynd, A courtly trayne in royall rich aray, 710 With spangled plumes, that daunced in the ayre, Mounted on steeds, with braue Caparisons deckt, That in their gates did seeme to scorne the Earth. Was wont my intertaynment beautiefie, But now thy comming is in meaner sort, They by thy fortune will thy welcom rate. _Sem._ What dost thou for such entertaynement looke, _Pompey_ how ere thy comming hether bee, I haue prouided for thy going hence. _Achi._ I will draw neere, and with fayre pleasing shew, 720 Wellcome great _Pompey_ as the _Siren_ doth The wandering shipman with her charming song. _Pom._ O how it greeues a noble hauty mind, Framed vp in honors vncontrouled schoole, To serue and sue, whoe erst did rule and sway What shall I goe and stoope to _Ptolomey_, Nought to a noble mind more greefe can bring Then be a begger where thou wert a King, _Ach._ Wellcome a shore most great and gratious prince Welcome to _Ægipt_ and to _Ptolomey_. 730 The King my Maister is at hand my Lord, To gratulate your safe ariuall heere. _Sem._ This is the King, and here is the Gentleman, Which must thy comming gratulate a non, _Pom._ Thanks worthy Lord vnto your King and you, It ioyes me much that in extremity, I found so sure a friend as _Ptolomey_, _Sem._ Now is the date of thy proud life expird, To which my poniard must a full poynt put, _Pompey_ from _Ptolomey_ I come to thee, 740 From whome a presant and a guift I bring, This is the gift and this my message is _Stab him_ _Pom._ O Villaine thou hast slayne thy Generall, And with thy base hand gor'd my royall heart. Well I haue liued till to that height I came, That all the world did tremble at my name, My greatnesse then by fortune being enuied, Stabd by a murtherous villaynes hand I died. _Ach._ What is he dead, then straight cut of his head, That whilom mounted with ambitions wings: 750 _Cæsar_ no doubt with praise and noble thanks, Regarding well this well deserued deede, Whome weele present with this most pleasing gift, _Sem._ Loe you my maisters, hee that kills but one, Is straight a Villaine and a murtherer cald, But they that vse to kill men by the great, And thousandes slay through their ambition, They are braue champions, and stout warriors cald, Tis like that he that steales a rotten sheepe That in a dich would else haue cast his hide, 760 He for his labour hath the haltars hier. But Kings and mighty Princes of the world, By letter pattens rob both Sea and Land. Do not then _Pompey_ of thy murther plaine, Since thy ambition halfe the world hath slayne.

ACTVS 2. SCENA. 2. {SN _Act II sc. ii_}

_Enter Cornelia._

_Corne._ O traterous villaines, hold your murthering hands, Or if that needes they must be washt in blood, Imbrue them heere, heere in _Cornelias_ brest. 770 Ay mee as I stood looking from the Ship (Accursed shippe that did not sinke and drowne: And so haue sau'd me from so loath'd a sight) Thee to behold what did betide my Lord, My _Pompey_ deere (nor _Pompey_ now nor Lord) I sawe those villaines that but now were heere: Bucher my loue and then with violence, To drawe his deare beloued Body hence; What dost thou stand to play the Oratrix, And tell a tale of thy deere husbands death? 780 Doth _Pompey_, doth thy loue moue thee no more? Go cursed _Cornelia_ rent thy wretched haire, Drowne blobred cheekes in seas of saltest teares. And if, it be true that sorrowes feeling powre, Could turne poore _Niobe_ into a weeping stone O let mee weepe a like, and like stone be, And you poore lights, that sawe this tragick sight, Be blind and punnish'd with eternall night. Vnhappy long to speake, bee neare so bould Since that thou this so heauy tale hast tould. 790 These are but womanish exclamations Light sorrowe makes such lamentations, _Pompey_ no words my true griefe can declare, This for thy loue shalbe my best welfare. _Stab her selfe._

ACT. 2. SCE. 3. {SN _Act II sc. iii_}

_Enter Cæsar, Cleopatra, Anthony, Dolobella, a Lord,_

_Cæsar._ There sterne _Achillas_ and _Fortunius_ lie, Traytorous _Sempronius_ and proud _Ptolomey_, Go plead your cause fore the angry _Rhadamant_, 800 And tel him why you basely _Pompey_ slew. And let your guilty blood appease his Ghost, That now sits wandring by the Stygian bankes, Vnworthy sacrifice to quite his worth, For _Pompey_ though thou wert mine enemy, And vayne ambition mou'd vs to this strife; Yet now in death when strife and enuy cease. Thy princely vertues and thy noble minde, Moue me to rue thy vndeserued death, That found a greater daunger then it fled; 810 Vnhapy man to scape so many wars, And to protract thy glorious day so long, Here for to perish in a barbarous soyle, And end liues date stabd by a Bastards hand, But yet with honour shalt thou be Intomb'd, I will enbalme thy body with my teares, And put thy ashes in an Vrne of gold, And build with marble a deserued graue. Whose worth indeede a Temple ought to haue. _Dolo._ See how compassion drawes foorth Princely teares 820 And Vertue weepes her enemies funerall, So sorrowed the mighty _Alexander_, When _Bessus_ hand caus'd _Darius_ to die. _Ant._ These greeued sorrowing Princes do with me, Ioyntly agree in Contrariety, Alacke we mourne, greeued is our mind alike, Our gate is discontented, heauy our lookes, Our sorrowes all a like, but dislike cause. Their foe is their grifes causer which my friend, It is the losse of one that makes them wayle, 830 But I, that one there is a cruell one, Do wayle and greeue and vnregarded mone. Fayre beames cast forth from these dismayfull eyes, Chaine my poore heart, in loue and sorrowes giues, _Cleo._ Forget sweete Prince these sad perlexed thoughts, Withdraw thy mind in clowdy discontent, And with _Ægiptian_ pleasures feed thine eyes, Wilt thou be hould the Sepulchers of Kings, And Monuments that speake the workemens prayse? Ile bring thee to Great _Alexanders_ Tombe, 840 Where he, whome all the world could not suffice, In bare six foote of Earth, intombed lies, And shew thee all the cost and curious art, Which either _Cleops_ or our _Memphis_ boast: Would you command a banquit in the Court, Ile bring you to a Royall goulden bowre, Fayrer then that wherein great _Ioue_ doth sit, And heaues vp boles of _Nectar_ to his Queene, A stately Pallace, whose fayre doble gates: Are wrought with garnish'd Carued Iuory, 850 And stately pillars of pure bullion framd. With Orient Pearles and Indian stones imbost, With golden Roofes that glister like the Sunne, Shalbe prepard to entertaine my Loue: Or wilt thou see our _Academick_ Schooles, Or heare our Priests to reason of the starres, Hence _Plato_ fecht his deepe Philosophy: And heere in Heauenly knowledg they excell. _Antho._ More then most faire, another Heauen to me, The starres where on Ile gaze shalbe thy face, 860 Thy morall deedes my sweete Philosophy, _Venus_ the muse whose ayde I must implore: O let me profit in this study best, For Beauties scholler I am now prefest. _Lord._ See how this faire _Egiptian_ Sorceres, Enchantes these Noble warriars man-like mindes, And melts their hearts in loue and wantones. _Cæs._ Most glorious Queene, whose cheerefull smiling words Expell these cloudes that ouer cast my minde. _Cæsar_ will ioy in _Cleopatras_ ioy, 870 And thinke his fame no whit disparaged, To change his armes, and deadly sounding droms, For loues sweete Laies, and Lydian harmony, And now hang vp these Idle instruments. My warlike speare and vncontrouled crest: My mortall wounding sword and siluer shield, And vnder thy sweete banners beare the brunt, Of peacefull warres and amarous Alarmes: Why _Mars_ himselfe his bloudy rage alayd, Dallying in _Venus_ bed hath often playd, 880 And great _Alcides_, when he did returne: From _Iunos_ taskes, and _Nemean_ victories, From monsters fell, and _Ncmean_ toyles: Reposed himselfe in _Deianiras_ armes. Heere will I pitch the pillars os my fame, Heere the _non vltra_ of my labors write, And with these Cheekes of Roses, lockes of Gold, End my liues date, and trauayles manifould. _Dolo._ How many lets do hinder vertuous mindes, From the pursuit of honours due reward, 890 Be sides _Caribdis_, and fell _Scyllas_ spight: More dangerous _Circe_ and _Calipsoes_ cup, Then pleasant gardens of _Alcionus_: And thousand lets voluptiousnesse doth offer. _Cæs._ I will regard no more these murtherous spoyles, And bloudy triumphs that I lik'd of late: But in loues pleasures spend my wanton dayes, Ile make thee garlondes of sweete smelling flowers, And with faire rosall Chaplets crowne thy head, The purple _Hyacinth_ of _Phoebus_ Land: 900 Fresh _Amarinthus_ that doth neuer die, And faire _Narcissus_ deere respendent shoars, And Violets of Daffadilles so sweete, Shall Beautify the Temples of my Loue, Whil'st I will still gaze on thy beautious eyes, And with Ambrosean kisses bath thy Cheekes. _Cleo._ Come now faire Prince, and feast thee in our Courts Where liberal _Cæres_, and _Liæus_ fat, Shall powre their plenty forth and fruitfull store, The sparkling liquor shall ore-flow his bankes: 910 And _Meroé_ learne to bring forth pleasant wine, Fruitfull _Arabia_, and the furthest Ind, Shall spend their treasuries of _Spicery_ VVith _Nardus_ Coranets weele guird our heads: And al the while melodious warbling notes, Passing the seauen-fould harmony of Heauen: Shall seeme to rauish our enchanted thoughts, Thus is the feare of vnkinde _Ptolomey_, Changed by thee to feast in Iolity: _Antho._ O how mine stares suck vp her heauenly words, 920 The whilst mine eyes do prey vpon her face: _Cæs._ Winde we then _Anthony_ with this Royall Queene, This day weele spend in mirth and banqueting. _Antho._ Had I Queene, _Iunoes_ heard-mans hundred eies, To gaze vpon these two bright Sunnes ofhirs: Yet would they all be blinded instantly. _Cæs._ VVhat hath some Melancholy discontent, Ore-come thy minde with trobled passions. _Ant._ Yet being blinded with the Sunny beames, Her beauties pleasing colours would restore, 930 Decayed sight with fresh variety. _Lord._ Lord _Anthony_ what meanes this trobled minde, _Cæsar_ inuites thee to the royall feast, That faire Queene _Cleopatra_ hath prepard. _Antho._ Pardon me worthy _Cæsar_ and you Lords, In not attending your most gratious speech Thoughts of my Country, and returne to _Rome_, Som-what distempered my busy head. _Cæs._ Let no such thoughts distemper now thy minde, This day to _Bacchus_ will wee consecrate, 940 And in deepe goblets of the purest wine, Drinke healths vnto our seuerall friends at home. _Antho._ If of my Country or of _Rome_ I thought, Twas that I neuer ment for to come there, But spend my life in this sweete paradise. _Exeunt._

ACT. 2. SCE. 4. {SN _Act II sc. iv_}

_Enter Cicero, Brutus, Casca, Camber, Trebonius._