THE TRAGEDY OF SERTORIUS. ACTED at the Theatre-ROYAL BY Their MAJESTY'S Servants.  
By JOHN BANCROFT, Gent.  Invidus alterius rebus macrescit opimis. Horat. 

LICENCED  
March 10. 1678/ 9 ROGER L'ESTRANGE.   
LONDON, Printed for R. Bentley and M. Magnes in Russel-street in Covent-Garden. 1679.   

TO THE HONOURABLE Capt. Rich. Savage, THIS TRAGEDY OF SERTORIUS IS DEDICATED, BY THE Humblest of his Servants  
JOHN BANCROFT.   

ERRATA.  
PAge 4. l. 12. r. worthiest, p. 8. l. 4. r. blinds, l. 6. r. from Eancy, p. 9 l. 21. r. power of Love, p. 19 l. 6. r. you Chiefs, p. 20. l. 4. r. the raising of, p. 23. l. 1. r. wait thee on the way, l. 26. Cyllenius like, p. 24. l. ult. r. framed for formed, p. 28. l. 31. r. unconstant Dame, p. 36. l. 2. lose my life, p. 41. l. 5. for of r. or, l. 14. r. the novelty, p. 44. l. 13. r. Takes the Decrees, p. 17. r. warning Gods, p. 54. l. 15. r. The paths, p. 58. l. 16. r. Has hid herself.   

Dramatis Personae.  

Sertorius; Exiled from Rome, chose head of the Lusitanians, in opposition to Sylla.  
Bebricius; A Lusitanian, true Friend to Sertorius.  
Tribunius, Captain of Sertorius' Guards.  
Cassius, A Roman Tribune.  
Norbanus, Exiled Roman Senators. Ligurius, Crassus, Decius.  
Perpenna; General of the Italian Bands: a Villain.  
Manlius, His Officers. Aufidius, Grecinus,  
Pompey; A Roman Geneneral, of Sylla's Faction.  
Aquinius; His Lieutenant.  
Tow Pontic Ambassadors.  
A Centurion.  
Terentia, Wife to Sertorius.  
Fulvia, Perpenna ' s.  
Soldiers, Citizens, Attendants, etc.   SCENE Lusitania.  

PROLOGUE.  
AS Cowards pushed into a desperate fight  
Move slowly forwards like their appetite;  
Yet when they feel the blows, filled with despair,  
Oft beat the brave, or battle with the Air:  
So our Gallant forced by his Friends to write,  
Now dreads his Fate which must be known this Night;  
Stormed by his Friends they swore him into rage,  
And forced him fight the Hydra of the Stage:  
Compelled he sighed and said like Phaeton,  
He aims at Wit, as t'other at the Sun,  
That he relies on what so oft is told,  
Fortune assists the brave, and Court's the bold;  
But if from fortune's slippery Wheel he's hurled  
From Wits vast Empire to the lower World,  
Fate was unkind she would no pity show,  
Be doomed by her, but doubly damned by you.   

SERTORIUS.  


ACT I. SCENE I.  SERTORIUS. 
CEASE, you Celestial Powers, and give that ease,  
Which to obtain, I, with repeated Prayers,  
The blood of Hecatombs, and Incense smoke,  
So oft have filled your heavens'; and bless the Man  
Which, from his Infancy to Autumn years,  
Subject to every blast, has known the Fate  
Of greatness, or abjected Poverty.  
Oh, Marius, through what paths Ambition led!  
But thou'rt no more; and Hell has left behind  
A janus' Fury, who, with Sword and Pen,  
Or Stabs, or to enevitable Fate thrusts on,  
Doomed by Proscription, numbers to attend  
On ghastly Death: while Slaughter, big with blood,  
In Sanguine hue, and a Tyrannic pace,  
Sweeps, like a Plague; and makes Rome's Senate look  
Like Sons of Earth, scaped from Deucalion's flood.  
Oh, when I call to mind Rome's base neglect,  
Tho' with this light I bought their Suffrages,  
Damned up for ever in the Marsian War;  
When Parents, with distended arms, lift up  
Their crying Infants, while the aged bestrid  
The tops of Houses, filled the Heaven with Shouts,  
The plaudits of my Triumphs; yet gave way  
To deeds ingrate, when Barbarous Sylla spoke,  
Denied the Tribuneship, and Exile made:  
Yet, not content with miseries, they hurl  
Repeated Plagues, and hunt me like a Beast.  
Yet, Gods, be kind, and Sylla's brood shall know,  
He that, with Patience, can endure like Me,  
May weather out the Storm, and Victim make  
The overdaring Fool, who hastes to meet  
(In Pompey) certain Fate; or Knowledge bought  
At dear expense. Down, you rebellious wrongs;  
Incite me not to acts, that misbecome  
A Roman mind to bear: Take flight, my Soul,  
Into a Sphere like thy Essential make;  
That I may scatter into open Air  
The envious mischiefs which environ me.   

SCENE II.  Bebricius, Norbanus, Ligurius, Crassus, Decius; to Sertorius. Bebr. 
HAIL Noble Patriot of a happy State,  
Blessed in the Guardian! Lusitania owes,  
As to the Gods, from undigested ways  
Of Brutal living, unto nobler formed,  
Her Reformation. Why's obscured that brow?  
What doubts can cause such gloomy fancies rise,  
As in the hue of melancholy men?  
Pensive with thought, thou shun'st Society.  Nor. 
Know, brave Sertorius, that we all in thee  
Wind up our Clue of life: as men devote,  
To the Infernals, humane Sacrifice.  
Thy breath, when formed into a sound, is Law:  
And not the dead shall, at the day of Doom  
Called to appear, in mightier numbers rise,  
Huddled to form from out their quiet Urns;  
Than Lusitania, from her wide extents,  
Crowd to attend Sertorius Godlike call.  Lig. 
God's glory in thy make, thou man Divine,  
True Similar to Rome's first Founder made;  
Excellent Roman! Patron unto all  
That's Great, or Good! Not Mars himself on Earth,  
When Illium Fields Divinities were Armed  
For Troy or Greece, wrought wonders with his Sword  
outdoing thine; which Fame as loudly speaks  
To the Extremes o' th' Universe yet known:  
Chose out by Fate, Elected by the Gods,  
To free thy Country from Tyrannic Rule;  
Tho' to the eye of Mortals Heaven obscures  
The mystic Writ, till Fate unloose the hours  
Which guide the Day to Rome's delivery.  Nor. 
Heaven owned thy birth; and pleased was mighty jove,  
When, in the Characters of Fate, he saw  
A man so Godlike, that should know the change  
Of Earthly joys, as he of those Divine,  
When Sons of Earth made War against his Heaven,  
And climbed Olympus; else, in Infant years,  
weighed down with Iron: Under Coepio's charge,  
When Chance unjustly Crowned the painted Gauls,  
Thou swam'st the Torrent of impetuous, Rhine,  
And lived to gain new glories by their spoil.  Crass. 
Fame loudly speaks the Action of that Day,  
When Celtiberians broke their solemn Vow,  
And, in Castula, called the Gryseans in,  
To Martyr Rome, in slaughter of her Sons;  
As angry Powers ruffle their Sky to Storms:  
Here, Sunshine; there, upon the Northern Pole,  
Destroying Flames make big the Elements  
With Fate inevitable: so didst Thou;  
When, in the height of their vain glorious hope,  
With speed of Hurricanes thy Sword destroyed;  
Consumed the Villains ere a thought could rise,  
And plucked a Laurel from the Victor's brow.  Bebr. 
'Mongst men, for deeds so great, we court thy Rule;  
And glory in thee: nay, the Vulgar Crowd  
Pay adoration to thy just desert;  
And blaze aloud that Fate attends thy Sword,  
Edged sure by Death: for, when thou heav'st thy arm,  
So Plagues devast, as thou mak'st voided the space;  
When throngs of Foes with Javelins fill the Air,  
And Thunder with the Rattling of their Shields,  
The frightened blood starts back into the heart,  
And makes the Soul, with Terror, fly its Seat.  Sert. 
If Gods have formed me as you say; I live  
Wholly devoted yours. The Roman name  
Shall, with her Eagles, take a flight to you;  
Perch in your Temples; and a terror be  
To Rome's ill Genij, which have ruined all:  
That from the Ashes, like the Phoenix,, may  
Arise a greater, nobler Nation here.  Bebr. 
Worthies of men, when Sylla's bloody hands,  
Embrued in Slaughter, threatened Death and Fate;  
When all the terrors froze us up with fear;  
Thou savedst our Country, and dispersed the Foe,  
Didst Acts beyond belief, secured us all:  
And, with the Thunder of thy mighty deeds,  
Scattered that storm which did obscure our day.  
Now, fafe in thee, we Sylla's power defy;  
Covet to Arm, when great Sertorious calls.  Sert. 
Who would refuse to spend his dearest blood  
When gratitude requires? Oh, Friends, I find  
The deep impression which your loves have made;  
Sole help to raise my Soul, with thought depressed.  
Nor can I fear, thus circled by my Friends,  
Vain glorious Sylla, who delights in blood:  
Rapine, and Spoil, wait his Triumphant Car;  
And, where he comes, like angry Fates, he breaks  
Handfuls at once, not cuts 'em thread by thread.  
Fearless of him, all others I despise;  
And his new Pupil Pompey, big with threats:  
His School-boy's rage, to call us on to Arms.  
So the young Huntsmen, fearless of success,  
Dart distant weapons 'gainst the dreadful Beast,  
Till some barbed Pile pierces his tawny side;  
Lashed by his tail to rage, he bellows out  
Destruction, and lays waste the Armed Troop:  
So 〈◊〉, so Armed, by our just Cause, we'll on.  
We fight for Liberty, and for our Gods;  
They, for a Tyrant, who contemns all good,  
Who all the Temples of the Graces shuts;  
Virtue and Peace are strangers to their breasts:  
For them we Fight, and they must Crown our Swords.  Bebr. 
Noble Sertorius! Lusitania's Patron!  Sert. 
Rome's Fame shall bow to you; no longer blessed;  
For all her Ornaments, her Arts, her all,  
To Osca shall be led; the noble youth  
There Educated in the Roman way;  
So Habited, when riper years come on:  
That, in the compass of an Age, the World  
Shall see Old Rome the shadow of this New.  [Sound of Trumpets.  

SCENE III.  Tribunius, Crowned with Laurel, attended with Aquinius bound, and Prisoners, etc. Trib. 
Hail, great Sertorius; Hail, thou mighty man,  
Whom Gods, in absence, fight for! thus adorned,  
We greet thy Genius; and here offer up  
These Laureate Wreaths, appropriate to thee.  Sert. 
So Armed, so Crowned, the Roman Senate fought,  
When the rough Sabines did invade their Rule,  Trib. 
Five Legions fell beneath our conquering Swords,  
Secured by Fate: Nor could Metellus help;  
His rage was vain. So Surges dash to Air,  
'Gainst Rocks opposing. Like the Giants fixed,  
We bore his Charge, and pressed him fiercely on:  
When brave Aquinius, to complete the day,  
Bedyed in gore, compassed with numerous Foes,  
Fell, with the number of his Wounds, our Captive▪  
So angry Boars their Tusks whet in vain,  
Fume oft, as oft assayed, as did their Chiefs  
When old Metellus sounded the Retreat:  
And, ere the setting Sun adorned the East,  
And on our Banners darted his bright Rays,  
Our Friends, immured for many months, were free:  
Broke was the Roman Camp; and left behind  
Engines of War; and mighty heaps of Arms,  
Forsook by haste, as Trophies we have ta'en.  Sert. 
The Sword of Justice has a vast extent,  
Is moved by Heaven, and guided sure by Time,  
Whose Sythe's not keener; there Astrea views  
The Crimes of Earth, and pours her vengeance forth:  
While the just Arms are Crowned with Victory.  
What can Aquinius say, to calm our rage?  
Can Rome's ambition never quiet know?  
Or must she restless as those Atoms be  
Which the fierce Winds subject unto their Rule?  
If so, by blood we must appease the slain;  
And think ourselves, as by the Gods, set forth  
To kill this second Python of the World.  Aquin. 
Cursed be the man, that, to the Roman name,  
Dares blemish Honour with the thought of fear:  
I superate it; and, like Sylla, am  
When most endangered, most a Roman Chief:  
Bred in his Cause, and nourished in his Arms,  
Filled with the glories of his mighty deeds,  
He won me to him. Let severest Fate  
Speak loud her Doom; to hear I stand unmoved:  
For, if I fall, Sylla will 'venge my death;  
The brave Metellus, or fierce Pompey, shall  
Offer a Sacrifice to still my Ghost.  Sert. 
Spoke like a Roman; gallantly and bold.  
But that I scorn to soil my fame with blood,  
Here thou shouldst fall; then let thy Ghost complain  
To barbarous Sylla for redress: Did he,  
Sided by Pompey, fenced by old Metellus,  
The two supporters of this lofty Oak,  
Dare meet me face to face, and stand my Ire;  
Like angry jove, I'd rive him to the waist,  
Spite of his Shields unto his heart convey  
This fatal Steel. Haste; tell the Boy, I wait  
To scourge his rashness. Let Metellus know,  
If he dares meet us, he shall feel again  
The Thunder of this arm upon his Cask:  
And need a Shield of Vulcan's tempering,  
To guard this deadly weapon from his heart.  
Sucron's the noble Field of Liberty,  
Where Death shall glut upon the bodies slain:  
And all the Furies, gorged with Roman gore,  
Grow fat with Slaughter, and press down the Earth  
With humane weight. O that it were my Fate  
To meet this Pompey, Rome's Anteus, now:  
Like Hercules, I'd grasp him in my arms,  
And make his Tyrant rue his forward heat!  Aquin. 
Thou shalt be fought with, if not foiled, Sertorius,  
The chance of War may leave thee destitute,  
And us adorn: then, in the brunt of Arms,  
I'll court thy sight; and on thy Casket pay  
A Roman thanks, for Liberty and Life.  Sert. 
Guard well the last; for, by our Gods, I swear,  
Or thee, or I, will measure out the ground  
If e'er we meet. Conduct him on the way,  
Which gives a birth to Fate, and mighty deeds.  [Ex. Aquin. 
But the Celestial Powers have left their Heaven,  
And fill the Temples with their Deities:  
'Tis Incense they expect, and Sacrifice.  
You four Patricians shall attend on me,  
Clad in the Garb of Numa's Pontifies,  
While I officiate Maximus to jove:  
With heaps of Spice, we'll cloud the Altars round;  
Seven Heifers offer, beautiful and young,  
To jupiter the Stayer. Hence, my Friends;  
See all things ready for the Sacrifice.  [Exeunt,  

SCENE IU.  Sertorius, Bebricius, remain. Bebr. 
Yet melancholy! when both Gods and Men  
Strive to outvie in gifts? Stretch out thy arm,  
Like angry jove, to those who envy thee:  
we'll be thy Elements, to execute.  Sert. 
Thy loss, Terentia, does depress my Soul:  
I grovel in the dark; and, when light comes,  
Behold the falsehood of my flattering Stars.  Bebr. 
When Heaven is kind, and pours his blessings down,  
Not Miser-like, but with a bounteous hand;  
Who knows, but Fate reserves this to the last,  
To make invalid all the other gifts?  
Distrust is worse than Death; and blind the sense:  
So Night, to the dull Phlegmatic, creates  
The Airy nothings which fancy rise;  
But when the warring Senses rouse the Soul  
To active heat, straight the Chimoeras fled:  
Then let not thought, formed from despair, give birth  
To Being's far unworthy of your breast.  Enter a Soldier. Sert. 
What means this rudeness, in our privacy?  Sould. 
Some Strangers new arrived do beg admittance.  Sert. 
Conduct 'em in.  [Ex. Soldier.  

SCENE V.  Cassius, to Sertorius and Bebricius▪ Cass. 
Art thou Sertorious?  Sert. 
Men do call me so. Art thou a Roman?  Cass. 
View well my face; then judge.  Sert. 
By Heaven, 'tis Cassius!  
That noble Roman, who appears to me  
As the last remedy to dying men;  
Or life, or death, attend as the effect.  
When Rome, in Sylla, made me Exile; Thou,  
In my necessity the only Friend,  
I left as Guardian to my Life, my Soul;  
Four Suns have passed the Zodiac, since to me  
They've blessed this eye with my Terentia's sight:  
Say, Cassius, lives she? or to blessed Shades,  
Doomed by the Gods to an untimely Fate,  
Sh' has changed for Immortality? Yet hold!  [Cassius offers to speak. 
Dead is the Fatal period of thy words:  
Night is not more allied to Chaos, than  
This dismal sound, if uttered, is to Death.  Cass. 
She lives, Sertorius: lives, to bless thy sight;  
To banish into Air thy doubts and fears.  Sert. 
I ask no other Heaven, you Gods, than this;  
For joys of Paradise, Elysium Shades,  
Are Fictions to the real bliss she brings.   

SCEN. VI  Sertorius, Terentia, etc. 
So breaks the Sun, from out the Artic Pole,  
And with it Day, banishing Night from thence.  Ter. 
My past misfortunes, whose obdurate Sense  
Sat heavy here, now vanish at thy sight:  
Long absence, winged by noblest Fire, sets on;  
And the great ecstasy of flowing joys  
Lethe past dangers with the present bliss.  Sert. 
Thou all of excellence! how shall I pay  
The mighty debt! for, by my life, I swear  
The Sense of Seeing to the Centre moves,  
And makes a mutiny of thought, within  
The Organ of my speech. Let me admire;  
And by my Eye, which greedily delights  
To meet each glance, judge of the Power Love.  Ter. 
Leave, my Sertorius, this Courtly Style;  
And, in such words with which thou won'st my breast,  
Say I am welcome.  Sert. 
Gods and Men, stand mute,  
While, both to Heaven and Earth, Sertorius owns  
Life, Health, and Happiness, without thy sight  
Dwindle to nought, and fill an Airy sound:  
Not absent Gods, from their Etherial Thrones  
frightened by Typhon, did with greater joy  
Again possess their Heaven, than I my fair.  Ter. 
No Music of the Spheres could raise my Soul  
Into a height like this. Gods, on my knees,  
I offer up my prayers of Sacrifice;  
Contemn the many dangers I have passed:  
Since, from those clouds which veiled my happiness,  
The Sun of comfort ushers on a Calm.  Sert. 
Heaven has restored the Treasure which I sought  
Given o'er, as Shipwrecked upon Sylla's Rock:  
While pressed with grief, beneath the mighty loss,  
A happy moment makes me bless the Day,  
In giving back the All that I admire;  
For, by thyself, on thy fair hand I swear,  
I would not change for a Celestial Seat.  Ter. 
And by my life, wound up within thy Fate,  [They embrace. 
The joys of Heaven, Society of Gods,  
Are not so charming as thy best-loved self.  Bebr. 
Blessed Lady, which to Lusitania brings  
The peace our Country has so often sought,  
So oft with piles of Incense filled the Air,  
And with the prayers of Nations in the Cloud  
Arrived, and gained acceptance from the Gods.  Sert. 
Oh, Cassius, this noble man has spoke,  
At once, her Virtue, and thy Worth. What man  
Was ever blessed like me, from Time and Chance,  
Through the dark Labyrinths of mistic Fate,  
To taste of joys like mine, and live? You Gods,  
Alloy the Ecstasy; which grows so fast,  
That life, in motion, flags to keep its pace.  Ter. 
I tread on Air; and view around the Days,  
Which fleet, like Shadows, though they harboured Death▪  
Like Prophets, lightened by the Sacred fire,  
Forget the giddy Chance, and to the God  
In rapture celebrate the turns of Fate:  
Thus, blessed by Love, I fly into thy arms.  
Where thy sight mesures, there's the blessed place;  
And in that Circle joys of Heaven are found.  Sert. 
I am all Rapture; and will hence remove,  
To pay the Tribute of an ardent Love;  
Gaze on those eyes which do these joys create,  
And view the charming object of my Fate:  
Then, ecstasied, to greater bliss I'll fly;  
Contemn the gaudy Mansions of the Sky,  
And wrapped in thy embrace for ever lie.  [Exeunt.   


ACT. II. SCEN. I.  A Noise of Mutiny. PERPENNA. Perp. 
HELL, and Confusion! how they rend the Air  
With endless clamours! Angry Elements,  
When meeting, cannot form a sound, that bears  
More horror in't: No voice but cries aloud,  
Lead to Sertorius! which the Traitress echo  
From off the Hills reverberates, and makes  
No sound but his combat the yielding Air.  
Oh, giddy Fortune, and uncertain Chance,  
Upon whose slippery path I've trod so long,  
Into what Maze you've led me! Must I live  
To see myself bereaved of Fame, to plume  
The Minion that I hate?— Ha! who art thou,  
That bring'st a terror with thee?   

SCEN. II.  Aufidius, Perpenna. Auf. 
A Friend, Perpenna:  
Who bids his General fly; or else submit  
To lay the Storm, by your consent to march.  
All arguments are vain; wounds but inflame  
Their burning rage, and turn into despair  
What hope could form. Hark how the Tempest roars,  
As if they meant to force consent from jove!  
By strenuous voices so impulse the Air,  
As make Convulsions in his Starry Orb!   

SCEN. III. A confused Noise within.  Grecinus, Perpenna, Aufidius. Grec. 
Cease to consider, if you mean to live.  
So breaks the Sea, through the opposing banks,  
And with its Torrent headlong rushes Fate:  
Your Friends are, to their fury, Sacrificed;  
No argument but Swords, no speech but Blows,  
Plead resolution to go on through Fate.   

SCEN. IU. Repeated Noises.  A Centurion to them. Cent. 
Perpenna, so I was commanded call thee,  
For the incensed Soldiers swear to choose,  
From out the Legions, Chiefs, and form a Head  
That shall to Osca lead their Warlike Bands.  
Metellus, and young Pompey, they despise;  
And to Sertorius fame are Prosetytes:  
Say, whether Concord to the Armed crowd  
Thou send'st in salutation, or Neglect?  Perp. 
If that my memory fails not, thou art he,  
When all the Cohorts bent to mutiny  
In the Apulian fields, killing the Slave  
Ambitious to be heard, didst lay the Storm:  
How art thou changed! how lost from what thou wert!  
Those Silver hairs, waned in the Roman Camp,  
Should be example of her Discipline;  
Not head of factious Slaves against their Lord,  
Who made 'em what they are.  Cent. 
Thus low, I bow  
To great Perpenna, as my General.  
When the rash Crowd moved with the Face of Death,  
Lest some Officious Slave, enured to noise,  
Plebeiac sport, wrought up the mischief higher;  
I took this shape upon me, and must beg  
(Hower'e the boldness they compelled me to  
Relish your sense) you would give way to join  
Whom public Fame speaks loud: They all concur,  
If you resist, to give you bound and chained  
Unto the Lusitanian General.  
Be speedy, ere the happy hour is fled.  Auf. 
Necessity compels; you must obey.  Perp. 
Did I not fear (for I'm myself secure)  
My Fulvia's harm, th' insulting Slaves should feel  
Alcides' labours dwelled upon my Sword:  
But, since ill Chance sits heavy on my Fate,  
Fly hence, my Friends, use all your art and power,  
Let Hermes dictate, and the Gods inspire;  
Take with you this good man, and tell the Throng,  
Perpenna condescends to lead 'em on:  
Speak all the taking words that can be thought,  
And Reign for ever in Perpenna's breast.  Cent. 
Fear not success: this news, like Balm to wounds,  
Will lay the anguish, and set free their doubt.  [Exeunt.  

SCEN. V.  PERPENNA. Perp. 
Was there no way to pass the Labyrinth?  
No subtle Clue the mystic path to find?  
You partial Gods, why Crowned you with success?  
Was it to add to th' Laurels which he wears?  
Now, by the juster Powers that war within,  
And make a Tempest in my Soul, he dies.  
Not angry Daemons, to subvert the World  
To ancient Chaos, and enlarge their Rule,  
Wrapped in the darkest Clouds too strong for light,  
The ample Character of Hell's design:  
Mine greater, more secure. Hypocrisy,  
Thou smoothest Devil that can Gods beguile,  
Rule in my brain; and dictate to my sense  
Mischiefs, excelling Heaven or Hell to forge.   

SCEN. VI  Fulvia, Perpenna. Ful. 
Why all this Tempest, Cneius? Look o'er Fate;  
And, from the Brazen Volumes, raze the hour  
That threatens ruin. Are you mute at this?  
Could you, like Hercules, perform anew  
His Hydra-labour, it were certain hope;  
But 'gainst the Winds and Seas usurping rage,  
Like Mariners within the giddy Bark,  
Mix words with Air, and execrate in vain,  
To great men is ignoble: Ebbs and Flows  
Of Earthly bliss, should to the noble prove  
Like the fixed Rocks i'th' Watery Element.  Perp. 
So fired Prometheus' Image with the Flame  
Stolen from Apollo's Car, as at this sound  
Those wave'ring thoughts which mutinyed within  
Vapour to Air, as Mists before the Sun:  
Thou chidest my Fair; but with the famed art  
That Orpheus drew Eurydice from Hell;  
Thy words, like Charms, make me adore thy form,  
And pay thee, Mortal, worship that's Divine.  
Say, thou, my life, and be as Oracle;  
While thy Perpenna, substitute to thee,  
Grows with the sound.  Ful. 
Must I then Counsel give,  
And form the thought that must evade ill Chance?  
Since Heaven and thee concurring will it so,  
Unite Sertorius power, and dissipate  
Those clouds of Fury which usurp thy Face:  
Ill Angels hover o'er despairing men  
And breed a mutiny within the Soul;  
While the good Spirits act in will alone,  
Sigh out their woes and lose their words in Air,  
Imperfect sound. None but the wretched feed  
On abject hope: for Godlike men create,  
From the extremes of ruin, certain bliss.  
So the skilled Seaman, at vast distance knows  
When the Salt Surges war the Element:  
Incluse within the noble Vessel, braves  
The angry Seas, though ruffled to a storm.  Perp. 
Oh Fulvia, 'tis the torture of the damned  
To rack with thought of Paradise that's lost;  
But thou, as when the spangled lights are hid,  
And all the heavens' in darkness are arrayed,  
Mortals distract with fear of endless night,  
Till the bright Sun does usher in the day:  
Half dead, twixt doubt and fear, thou giv'st new life,  
And call'st from exile all my Reason back.  
There's something thunders in my Ears, revenge,  
Pierces like Lightning; but has left its fire  
Fixed in my breast, which like to Aetna burns.  Ful. 
Let it burn on; it is a noble fire;  
And, in the blaze, let the great Hero fall:  
Make Lusitania the Funeral Pile,  
Her Cities, Sructures Temples, perish all,  
And from the fire let greatness take its birth.  Perp. 
Let me embrace thee, O thou Excellence!  
Whose words have raised a fury in my breast  
Prompt to revenge; but yet so formed, so wrought,  
That Gods may wonder, and not Fate prevent.  
Yes, we will meet Sertorius; to his bane;  
And in a dubious language wrought with guile,  
Merit belief: till, most secure, he falls.  
So when Serenity of air by heat  
Becomes perspicuous, and the azure sky  
The jarring Element of Fire reflects;  
Through subtlest wounds the Soul her passage takes  
And leaves the Body senseless of her flight:  
So shall Sertorius fall, such is his Fate,  
No Thunder shall forerun the deadly flash.  Ful. 
Now thou art worthy of my love, and court'st  
In Treasure that surmounts a Danae's shower:  
My soul's transplanted in thy breast, and forms  
A Godlike thought, apt to a Power supreme:  
Seated by thee, I view the lower World.  
The brood of Chance, like giddy Atoms reel;  
While, like the Gods, we scatter, or collect,  [Exeunt.  

SCEN. VII.  CASSIUS'. Cass. 
What strange Infection rules within my breast,  
And Riots in my blood? Not liquid fire,  
By its first cause fomented, burns more fierce  
In the Earth's Centre, than I flame within.  
'Twere better, Cassius, to unsheathe thy Sword,  
And open all the sluices of thy life;  
That, in a deluge to the other world,  
Thy blood may still the Furies, and thy Soul  
Wander an Exile in Elysium shades.  
'Sdeath, how was it begotten? so impure,  
I dare not give it name. You Fates unkind,  
Why doomed you love in so sinister way?  
Now, my ill Daemon whispers in my Soul  
I must love on, and live. Ha! see, she comes!   

SCEN. VIII.  Terentia, Cassius. Ter. 
Are you not well, my Lord, that you retire  
From the society of Friends? we're now  
Beyond the barbarous extents of Rome;  
Forget the base Proscribing City, and  
W' inhabit, and enjoy a Paradise.  
What sullen thought can then usurp your breast?  
If in Sertorius power, or mine, it lies,  
Your merit pleads, and Friendship bids command.  Cass. 
Nor you, nor he must grant; the gifts so great,  
And my ambition swelled to such a height,  
None but the only Jewel of his Crown  
Will calm the rage of warring passions here.  
(What have I said? what Devil did inspire  
With words so killing to my Fame? I'm lost;  
Hurried to ruin, by resistless Charms.)  [Aside. Ter. 
Ransack his treasury, and call it yours;  
Did it contain more wealth than India knows:  
No gift can equal such a Friend as you.  Cass. 
Ah, Madam, you're so excellently good,  
Placed in a Sphere remote, beyond the World;  
But wretched I, wander in endless night,  
And hate the Day, which brought my misery.  
In vain I hope redress; in vain complain  
Unto the Air; large floods of brinish tears  
With sighs, commix:— (Heaven, strike me dumb for ever,)  
Or I shall tell the Cause of all my griefs;  
And, with it, bring inevitable Fate!  [Aside. Ter. 
'Tis wondrous strange! But; Cassius, I must know  
From what hid Spring these mighty Torrents rise.  
I always thought you worthy, and would strive,  
Knew I but how, to ease these fits of grief:  
You said, a Jewel; can a Toy, like that,  
Render confused the nobleness of mind?  
Cassius is wiser; and, I fear, has felt  
The change of quiet, by his Country's change:  
Met some obdurate Fair, enured to scorn,  
Stranger unto your worth. Is't not from thence?  
Tell me; and, by our Friendship, were she Flint,  
Harder than Adamant, I'd melt her breast;  
Infuse into her Soul the pangs of Love,  
And make her proud to merit such a choice.  Cass. 
(Something I fain would say; but when my words  
Do crowd for utterance, they're confused and lost.  
I will— yet I will not— Death here shall rule,  
ere I the fatal Secret do reveal.)  [Aside. 
Your pity, Madam's ill bestowed on me,  
Who labour under the extremes of Fate,  
Foresee the Goal which I shall ne'er arrive,  
And languish in the sight of Heaven I wish:  
Yet, there is something, in your words, creates  
A kind of quiet here, and rest unknown,  
Allays the mutiny of warring thoughts,  
And breaks, like light, through my Chaos sense.  Ter. 
Give me your hand; consider as we go;  
If I am worthy of the secret Cause,  
Fear not success; I'll be your Advocate:  
Or, if a Kingdom's loss can buy your peace,  
Sertorius, to regain a Friend like you,  
With hands profuse would slight the gaudy Rule,  
And, in th' extremes of Friendship, prove a Friend.  Cass. 
Upon the utmost rim of Earth I stand;  
And, the least motion, down the Precipice  
Headlong I fall, giddy with doubts and fears:  
I see my Fate, but cannot Fate prevent.  [Exeunt.  

SCEN. IX. Drums and Trumpets.  On the one side, Bebricius, with Lusitanians: On the other, Aufidius, with Romans, Crowned with Garlands, and Olive-Branches in their hands. Aus. 
Health to Sertorius, Perpenna sends,  
Union, and Concord, Palms, and Olive-Crowns,  
Trophies and Spoils, ta'en from the tawny Gauls:  
The pledge of Friendship, bonds of Unity.  Bebr. 
A Roman constancy and Faith, commends  
The great Sertorius; proud of such Ally.  
Open the Phalanx; sound the voice of War:  
And fill the heavens' with Battel-harmony.   

SCEN. X. Loud shouts: a Flourish.  Lictors, bearing Fasces; Roman Officers; then Sertorius; attended by Cassius, Norbanus, Crassus, Ligurius. Is met in like manner by Perpenna, attended by Manlius, Grecinus, etc. They view each other. Perp. 
Fame, which to mighty deeds extends her wings,  
Has, from the Confines of wide-spreading Gaul,  
To view a Man famous as ancient Gods,  
Drawn me Perpenna, to admire thy Fate.  
Nor find I less than what I sought; a Man,  
Great as the Founder of Imperial Rome:  
Who, like a God, does with his presence awe.  
Give here our Standard, now no more our own;  
Lictor's, your Fasces prostrate at his feet;  
And all your Chiefs, which owned me for your head,  
Pay here Allegiance: for Perpenna vows,  
By the blessed light which guilds the Day, he lives  
Wholly devoted to Sertorius will.  Sert. 
You make me blush through all my honoured Scars,  
Naming my deeds, which are by yours eclipsed;  
The Starry Light, to Cynthia's Orb compared:  
Believe me, noble Roman, I'm more proud  
Of this Days honour, by so famed a man;  
That all the glories of my life fall short,  
When this is named. Bear high the Fasces still,  
and let the lofty Eagle raise her Crest;  
For, by the loves and lives of all my Friends,  
Sertorius bows to so much Fortitude.  Perp. 
Now, by the God which bears the name of War,  
His mighty Soul's transplanted in thy breast:  
The Shields of Rome, are forged, Metallic dross;  
Thou only Patriot, exiled in a Storm  
Of Brutal rage: Fabius, Camillus, all  
The noblest Spirits inhabit in thy mind;  
And, while I praise thy Virtue, thoughts Divine  
Possess my Brain, and elevate my Soul.  Sert. 
We're Men, Perpenna; Men, by Fate chose out  
To launch through all the Terrors of the World;  
Frail, mortal Men, subject to every Chance:  
And while we praise ourselves, we rob the Gods,  
Let it suffice I am thy Virtue's Creature:  
For, by the Gods, I covet to be thine.  
Bebricius, Cassius, noblest Friends, come on,  
And, with the Gordian-knot of Friendship, tie  [Shouts, and Trumpets, etc. They all embrace. 
This mighty Union— Now, let Pompey come,  
Metellus, or the source of Civil War,  
Sylla, attended with his dire effects;  
Like angry Gods, we'll hurl destruction down;  
Blast all their hopes, and scatter all their power:  
For Heaven in this secures the worst of Fate,  
And marks it out the Raising of our Swords.  Perp. 
Where e'er Sertorius leads, so winds break loose;  
Both Air and Earth suffer Convulsive fits:  
Not angry Parcaes, mounted on a Plague,  
In greater numbers kill, than where thy Sword  
Points out the fatal compass, and makes way;  
Like loudest Bolts forged by the Cyclops hands,  
The mighty-weapons of an angry jove.  
Proud to obey the Legions stand; their Chiefs  
Glow Aetna like, and courage fills the Nerves,  
While the hot-Will only the Signal waits.  Sert. 
When brave Perpenna leads the coldest Soul  
With Emulative Virtue Flames, and courts  
The dismal'st objects, and the sharpest fights;  
And when the noble Bird of jove soars high,  
The Pies, and flocks of chattering Jays disperse,  
Beat on the wing, and court the Mountain's womb,  
And Rocky Cliffs, for Shelter, Give command  
The Salij enter, to perform those Rites  
Apt to the will of Heaven, and lives of Men.   

SCEN. XI.  An Altar discovered. Enter the Flamen of Mars, attended by the Salij. While Sertorius and Perpenna stand on each side the Altar, is Sung this SONG. 

In Erebus, and in the lowest shades,  
Of ancient Chaos, and old Kingdom Night,  
Where the fierce Element of Fire ne'er fades,  
Where horrors, and the Terrors of the sight  
The Powers Immortal, though secure, affright:  
Thou, in the Genius of Alcides, Reigned,  
And made the Godlike Labours soon obtained.  
Son of Juno, God of War,  
Who in blood and death delights,  
Which still adorn thy mighty Car,  
And fire the brave in fiercest fights:  
From Thrones Etherial, see, O see,  
The strictest bonds of unity,  
Through Death and Wounds offered to thee.   Here the Incense is lighted on the Altar; Sertorius and Perpenna shake hands over the smoke: the Salij Dancing a Warlike dance, to the honour of Mars. Sert. 
Bebricius, hast to Osca; Summon all  
The Roman Orders, to the Sacred place  
Of jupiter Feretrius: There assembled,  
In a full Senate, tell the Conscript Fathers,  
Sertorius leads their Power to Sucron Fields;  
And Heaven indulgent, with a mighty force  
Whom famed Perpenna to their Army joins,  
Eager for fight, as famished men for food,  
Hasts to revenge on the Tyrannic Fo.  
Then, to Terentia thyself address;  
Say, that Sertorius invocates the hours  
Swiftly to move the Orb which rules the Day,  
And fleetest Time counts tardy in his flight,  
Till the longed minute ushers my return.  Bebr. 
None more can covet to obey, than I;  
Tho the great Goddess I adore comes on,  
Fiercest Bellona, whom in blood I court:  
But, such the Magic is which Friendship holds,  
I'll fly to Osca and neglect the Day.  Perp. 
to Auf. Yet hold thy hasty steps, till Cneius speaks.  
Bring Fulvia hither, thou my best of Friends,  
In Battle often tried, as Gold by fire,  
But far outstripping Plutus Mines of Ore.  [Ex. Auf. 
Let me entreat the mighty man of War,  [To Sert. 
When he the weakness of Perpenna knows,  
That he'd forget the frailty of that man  
Whose silent hours (if such the Great can know)  
Are fettered with the Charms of powerful Love:  
Our Patron Mars oft, from his Seat of War,  
To Revel with the beauteous Queen of Love,  
Forgets his best-loved sound for soft embrace.  
But see, she comes! now let her beauty plead.   

SCEN. XII.  Fulvia, to them. Sert. 
By Venus' self, there's more than mortal in her!  
Perpenna cannot err; for joys he reaps,  
The Amorous Gods would slight their gaudy Sky,  
And covet to enjoy her Heaven of Love.  Perp. 
So Mortals to the Sacred Fane resort,  
Latona's Son Invoking for success;  
With greater heat, when Battle calls, go on,  
As in thy presence: such the powerful sway  
Of Beauty's Empire. Doubtful of my Fate,  
And from thy Tongue, as from an Oracle,  
Expect my Doom: Pompey, Metellus, brave  
The noblest Roman; to whose Fate's allied  
All the remains Perpenna can command.  Ful. 
Absence, my- Cneius, is the Lover's curse;  
The Rack of Torture: yet, when Honour calls,  
Thy Fulvia's Rival, sense of Fame grows high,  
Pleads in thy cause, and for a space keeps down  
A flood of tears, which take their source from Love.  
The fate of Lovers should inseparate be;  
But thou, the killing Terrors to our Sex  
Mak'st thy Companions; and, in Arms, forgettest  
Thy sorrowing Fulvia: who, like Niobe,  
Could weep away the Being that I have.  Perp. 
Give not a birth to thoughts like these, my life;  
For, when the Trumpet hastens to the Charge,  
Death brood's upon my Sword, till from the Field  
Spread o'er with slain, with Laurel Crowned I hast  
To pay the glories at my Fulvia's feet.  
Thou, as the Treasure of my life, my Soul,  
Must hence to Osca: this brave Stranger here  
And stout Grecinus wait the way.  Cass. 
aside. The envious Gods, which pleasure in our pain,  
Have given the happy minute from my hope.  
Oh, my Terentia! blood nor death can lay  
The mighty anguish that thy eyes have made.  Ful. 
One look, before I go, and that's the last:  
The taste of parting joys so much increase,  
That I could gaze my very Soul away.  Perp. 
Such power, the God pointed within that Ray,  
Has changed the thought of Battle to desire,  
And a few minutes would transform me quite  Sert. 
Sound drum's, and Trumpets; Rise, you noble Souls,  
Fired with the harmony of sounds so sweet:  
Let courage dictate, and your Swords outdo  
The angry Fates. To Arms, my Friends; to Arms:  
Oh, may the Fortune of the Day lay waste  
The many mischiefs which attend on War,  
While the kind Gods auspiciously afford  
A blooming Peace, to Crown the Victor's Sword.  [Exeunt.   


ACT. III. SCEN. I.  FULVIA. 
NOT subtle Fire, from Jove's Olympus hurled  
In Airy tracts to mortal eyes recluse,  
Can be more deadly than the Plots I've formed;  
The old, the young, the dull Saturnine Soul,  
And him whose lightness is Silenus' like,  
Wander the pleasant Maze; so formed by thought,  
And by the Magic of my beauty Charmed:  
So the dull Pilot from the Helm is drawn;  
Rapt with the Ecstasy of sound, which bears  
Inevitable bane, from Syrons' Tongues.  
Greatness, in my Perpenna, 'tis I aim;  
And, while in Fields he steals the Soldiers hearts,  
I'll make a greater conquest here at home.   

SCEN. II.  Bebricius musing, Fulvia. Bebr. 
Like Travellers, by light delusive led,  
I've wandered from my reason, and have trod  
The mystic Labyrinth of mighty Love.  
Say then; Bebricius, she be virtuous, good,  
Stranger to thy requests, and cold as Ice!  
Let her be so; the coyest may be won:  
And shall I faint, when Paradise falls short  
To the blessed joys which dwell upon her lips?  
Ha! she is here! I grow unto the Earth;  [Starts. 
And the unruly Devil promts my Tongue.  
Had I the Charms that Youth and Beauty bring,  
The power of Gods, or of their Substitutes;  
To the Divinities which habit there,  
And make a Throne Celestial in those eyes,  
I'd prostrate all, and, with the gift, myself:  
But, void of these, how shall I frame my speech  
To merit pity? Say, thou beauteous Creature,  
If I offend, in saying that I love?  
For, If I do, the World must err, like me;  
Worship those Eyes, as Persians do the Sun,  
And justly Idolise thy excellence.  Ful. 
Bebricius turned a Lover, at these years!  
Does the soft God captive the Man of War?  Bebr. 
Madam, he does; at vast expense he rules;  
Tributes my being, makes my heart his Seat:  
Ill Chance, to Camps and Martial deeds enured,  
Has taught my Tongue a harsh unpolished way;  
Yet Truth and Honesty, absent from Courts  
Where gaudy Birds with borrowed Feathers wing,  
Dwells in my language. Possibly you may,  
For I expect it, use me with neglect;  
Do more than Dagger's points could, wound:  
But I have said, and wait my Destiny.  Ful. 
Are you then serious? Was not all this formed,  
Invented, to delude the hours away;  
The tedious hours? For, Since Perpenna's absence,  
Each day's delay appears an Age to me.  Bebr. 
Even from the first which blessed me with your sight,  
I've felt the power of Beauty in my Breast,  
Languished in Torture, and have hugged my chain:  
Morpheus could ne'er close up my eyes with rest,  
But your Idea Revealed in my Soul.  Ful. 
Hold, Sir. This dialect does ill become  
The Tongue of him I always thought a Friend.  
Thus far, my Innocence will guard itself;  
But farther, were a crime that unbefits  
Perpenna's choice. Leave me, thou wretched man:  
I will not punish thee with aught, but Love.  Bebr. 
Know, cruel Fair, life without hope is Hell;  
Wretched, as they who dwell in endless night:  
I dreaded the ill Fate, which did compel  
This doom from you. See, thou cruel Woman,  
And judge, by this, the wondrous power of Love,  Ful. 
What means Bebricius?  Bebr. 
Say, when I am dead,  
Bebricius Life and Love were so unite.  
That Death itself fell short to separate.  
If there be paths the Soul when banished treads,  
Whether on burning Phlegeton, or Styx;  
Upon the flaming Shores I'll call on thee,  
And make thy Spirit lose all mortal bliss,  
Racked with the Sympathy of pains like mine.  Ful. 
Hold, barbarous man. Is't not enough I heard,  
And in it suffered; but thou threat'st my Fame:  
When vulgar crowds, not promt to judge, speak loud,  
Enlarge Report, spread wide her Airy wings,  
With seeming Subjects blazing Infamy?  
If thou dost love, in death itself, the Soul,  
Th' essential Seat of the Divinity,  
Still cares, with danger of the livings fate:  
And wilt thou wound in death, what living thou  
Adorest?  Bebr. 
Rather than suffer pains beyond all speech,  
Languish in Torture to Eternity,  
I'll live to merit: but when stranger thoughts  
Do find a gentle passage in your breast,  
Oh, let the memory of your Slave appear  
A pitying object, suing for relief.  Ful. 
Death waiting on a Lover's words, till now  
I've been a stranger to; you've ta'en a way  
To merit pity: what th' effects may be,  
I dare not guests; but Time will lighten all.  Bebr. 
So Gods, when mortals doomed to Shades below,  
Revoke the Sentence of the sinking Soul,  
And give a glimpse of Heaven unto their sight,  
To banish from the thought the fears of Night.  [Exeunt.  

SCEN. III.  Cassius, Terentia. Cass. 
From Fortune's Minion, sorrowing Cassius comes,  
Where Slaughter gluts upon the Bodies slain,  
Pastime and sport, to the rough Sons of War;  
Senseless to me the gaudy feast appeared;  
For here, within my breast, I feel a grief  
That makes a Fiction of the Vulture's gripe:  
Yet, when Sertorius spoke, with haste I fled,  
To pay the duty of a Friend and Lover;  
And felt a kind of ease in his Commands.  Ter. 
Has the indulgent Gods than heard my prayers?  
Lives he, secure of wounds from envious men?  
Say, noble Cassius, and delight my sense.  Cass. 
None worthy fear; the badges of his Fame,  
Which marked him Hers; then took an Airy flight,  
Swelled with the Greatness, mesures out the Earth,  
And makes the heavens' too little for her head.  Ter. 
How has th' Ignoble passion froze my blood;  
And, from the height of joys, hurled headlong down  
Too forward Hope! Gods, is he wounded then?  
His mind's so great, slighting the honoured breach,  
Death, like a Thief, may steal away his life.  Cass. 
Oh, Madam, doom me not the Harbinger  
Of woes so killing, 'less within myself:  
His Fate's beyond the reach of vulgar men;  
Who suffer, meriting a kind belief,  
But vanish at his Name: As when the Sun  
Mounts up Olympus' hill, the spangled Lights  
Shrink in their Beams, and disappear, till Night  
Calls forth her Ornaments.  Ter. 
Let's haste; let's fly;  
Add wings unto our steps: forget the name  
Which breeds Impatience in a Lover's breast.  Cass. 
(To the wide Region of the Air I speak:  
Like Tantalus, see that which flies my taste,  
And leaves me Tortured with the cruel thought.)  [Aside. Ter. 
Why stay we here, and not attend the Triumph?  
Press to his sight, and use a Lover's haste.  Cass. 
We, Madam, move within a different Sphere;  
A Venus, you; and a dull Saturn, I:  
Yet willingly, to meet a Friend like him.  
Swift would the motion be; but all within  
Is lost, in viewing of an object, hid  
To vulgar eyes: but, to my Optics, plain  
As Night from Day. (Her Innocence destroys,  
Faster than thought can form a glimpse of hope!)  Ter. 
You speak a Dialect that's mystic, Cassius;  
And show the mighty change from what you were:  
For words confused betray an inward grief.  
Now, by Sertorius, pity rules my breast;  
And, did not expectation of his sight  
Raise high my Soul, I should Conjure thee now  
By the strict bonds of Friendship, to reveal  
What works this change: for, Cassius', I perceive  
That words imperfect habit in thy speech.  
Sometimes, thy blood flushes upon thy cheeks;  
Seeming to speak, thou check'st the hasty sound,  
Changest complexion to the palest hue.  Cass. 
The Gods themselves may, from Divinity,  
Unfold the Adamantine leaves of Fate;  
But there the name of Cassius is impressed  
So light, that wandering Powers the object view,  
Shunning the Sight, sinks through the mystic Writ.  
Each hour I languish, and my pain's confined  
To th' Centre of my Sense; Racks torture less:  
Yet, such the will of Heaven, that I must live,  
Still view at distance all the Heaven I wish,  
Dumb to request a helping, pitying hand,  
Whose very touch would, by a power Divine,  
Pass through its virtue to a bleeding heart.  Ter. 
What God hast thou offended, who should thus  
Command Megaera to let loose a Snake?  
But tell me, Cassius'; when my Quintus comes,  
From the Penates to the Sylvan crowd,  
Or from the height of Heaven to th' depth of Hell,  
Not one we'll leave unsought, or uninvoked.  Cass. 
Nor Gods, nor Men, did Cassius ere offend,  
In Honour, or in Virtue: should I lose  
The stubborn Reins which guide our human will,  
I might have ease; but on it there attends  
A greater plague; Death, which gives ease to all,  
Will leave me restless in my Urn. But see!  
The Lusitanians crowd to wait his sight.  
Now must this light of mine for darkness change.  Ter. 
Such is the power of Friendship, that I've lost  
The splendid thought which brings Sertorius home.  [Exeunt.  

SCEN. IU.  Sertorius, in Triumph, crowned with Laurel; attended by Perpenna, Aufidius, Manlius, Crassus, Ligurius, Decius. They alight from the Chariots. Sert. 
The Gods the justness of our Cause have shown,  
And made the Air direct the Darts we flung,  
While Victory did hover o'er our Arms.  
Pompey, whose rashness spurred him on to fight,  
Thinking that Fortune, which he elsewhere found,  
Lacquyed him here; but the constant Dame,  
Viewing the mighty havoc that we made,  
Slighted his youth, and fled unto our Camp.  Perp. 
Memnius no more shall boast his mighty deeds,  
Unless in the Infernal Shades, whose Shores  
Swarm with the wretched Ghosts of Romans slain;  
That Charon, groaning with the mighty toil,  
Calls for more aid of Pluto, and bemoans  
His endless labour. Where's Rome's General now?  
Where fled to hide himself? He's bound to bless  
The gaudy Trappings which adorned his Horse,  
Whose sparkling Gems dazzled the barbarous eyes  
Fixed on the object; h'had been Captive else:  
Metellus force came timely to his aid.  Sert. 
It did, Perpenna; else we ' had whipped him home,  
Wailing his loss, unto his Patron Sylla.  
But, when he views the Slaughter we have made,  
The num'erous Slain, which lie as Autumn leaves;  
He'll find destruction waits upon our Swords,  
And, when he fights with us, he Combats Fate.   

SCEN. V.  Bebricius, and two Ambassadors, to Sertorius, etc. Bebr. 
Welcome, thou great Triumpher over Rome,  
Whose Sword chastises her Tyrannic brood;  
The Hinds of Fortune, when thou sound'st to Arms:  
See how thy Fame has winged, and won the breast  
Of Mithridates, who thy Friendship courts;  
That untamed Prince, made for the Roman Scourge,  
Whose Empire's spacious, and his power as great.  1. Amb. 
Hail mighty Warrior! great as Hannibal!  
Thy Name at distance does such terror breed  
As when his Camp was in the sight of Rome.  
The Lord of Kingdoms does, by us, entreat  
Sertorius to his aid: which if he gains,  
Pyrrhus, whose deeds were dreadful in the East,  
Shall prove but Infant to his killing Sword,  
Enured to battle, and to Slaughter bred;  
Witness the dreadful days when it appeared.  
Say thou accept'st this offer, it again  
Shall act new wonders, and make big the Air:  
Then, meeting with the sound thy deeds create,  
Unite into a Terror, dread as Death,  
And threaten everlasting night to Rome.  2. Amb. 
If Asia, torn by Siylla from his Rule,  
Thou wilt give back again to his command;  
Five thousand Talents of the purest Gold,  
And forty Sail of well-built Ships of War,  
Whose Prows are Armed with mighty beaks of Steel,  
Shall plough th' Atlantic Ocean. and be thine:  
Under thy Banners shall his Subjects march;  
And Mithridates, proud of thy Ally,  
Own thee Superior both on Sea and Land.  Sert. 
Tell Mithridates, Cappadocia,  
And the Bithynian Realms, are his again;  
But what the Romans won by force of Arms,  
I cannot in my Honour give away;  
Or, from that Empire, lop a member off  
Which Fimbria won: I'll pledge my faith to him  
As far as Honour will permit, no more;  
For I will cease to be, ere do a deed  
That may disgrace the actions of my life.  
Bebricius, see 'em honourably used.  
If, on the Terms proposed, your King agrees,  
Or your Commissions authorise your power,  
We shall assist him as our Friend: This day  
We give ourselves to pleasure; but the next  
Is for the safety of this Commonwealth.  Perp. 
(Surely the Gods strive to outvie in gifts;  
And all Mankind, not worthy of their care,  
Must climb the Precipice of Fortune's wheel,  
While blindly here she largely gives away.)   

SCEN. VI  Terentia, to Sertorius, etc. Sertorius runs to, and embraces her. Sert. 
More pleasure Gods, you by this object give,  
Than all the glories that I've won in fight!  
To know I'm loved by thee, exceeds the joys  
Of bliss eternal. 'Twas to Heaven thou prayedst,  
And the just Powers could no denial make;  
From the Olympic Mansions of the Sky,  
Dropped down a Laurel to adorn my Fair.  Ter. 
Let it find credit in Sertorius breast,  
That in thy absence, as bereaved of Soul,  
My spirit hovered round about thy head:  
Still begged of jove, in an Etherial sound,  
To break the edge of every Sword, that bore  
Death in its point. Oh, my Sertorius! now,  
If tongue can utter, or delight can form,  
I feel an Ecstasy above all thought.  They seem to discourse with Cassius. Perp. 
to the Romans. See how the poison swells, my Roman Friends!  
Do not their plaudits grow within his breast?  
By Heaven, we ' tend, like Slaves, upon this Tyrant,  
Unworthy notice: while the vulgar crowd  
Shout up his name to Heaven, and frighten jove.   

SCEN. VII.  Bebricius, to Sertorius, etc. Bebr. 
Fulvia, Perpenna, sorrowing thy delay,  
Has felt the stroke of sickness; but thy sight  
(So she commanded tell thee) brings her health.  Perp. 
Ha! is she ill? (She has the Signal sent  
Of her success; but I must hide my joys!)  
You Gods, averse to all that's great in me,  
Why wound you so? Let Triumph, Honour, all  
Perish within the thought, ere I delay  
A minute longer. 'Sdeath, my Gall will burst!  
Aufidius, Manlius, sound the depth of Fate;  
Take all my wishes with you: from this hour  
We either make, or lose all future joys.  [Exit. Bebr. and Cass. whisper to Sertorius. Auf. 
What makes you study, Crassus? Is't this sight?  
Or is it that the Crowd, neglecting us,  
Pay all their Vows to him?  Crass. 
I know not what  
Tumults within; but yet 'twere not amiss  
They thanked us, for the wounds we got in fight.  Man. 
Ligurius! Decius▪ why d'ye bite your lips?  
Why writh your looks into an angry frown?  Lig. 
'Twas nothing, Manlius, but a sullen thought.  Dec. 
Mine was the same; but, see, we are observed!  Sert. 
You noble Lusitanians, all are bound  
To pay the glories of the Day to him,  
The brave Perpenna, who deserves your vows:  
Not in the War of Heaven, when Godheads Armed  
And shook the mighty Empire of the Sky,  
Did the Cyclopian bolts outdo his Sword.  
Terentia, thou, whose longing eyes behold  
Thy Quintus safety, aught to thank him for't.  
When bold Aquinius, circled round with Fate,  
Like the Controller of the Destinies,  
He forced his way: and the ambitious man,  
Proud of the growing Glories of the Day,  
Fell from th' usurped Chariot of the Sun.  Ter. 
'Tis thou, my life, that dost inspire my tongue  
With thanks, as to a saving Power. Oh, where  
Had thy Terentia been, when Heaven and Earth,  
One trembling, t'other Echoing with fierce sounds,  
And Gods impartial thronged to view the fight,  
If the barbarity of him thou savedst  
Had made a breach in life? Show me the man,  
That with an obligation infinite  
Has freed my fears, and blessed my eyes again.  Auf. 
Proud of the honour, fighting by thy side,  
And glorying in the objects formed by thee,  
A servant to thy Fame; Perpenna said,  
When hasting to embrace whom sickness made  
A stranger to the splendid Scene, his Fulvia:  
That nought but all the Treasure of his love  
Could, in the lucky minute of his life,  
'cause any separation from his Friend.  Sert. 
What said Aufidius? is Fulvia sick?  
Can so much beauty temt the Gods to Fate?  
Apollo Pythius, minister her health;  
Summon the followers of the Delphic God,  
And, with them, tell Perpenna how I grieve  
At this sinister period of our joys.  Ter. 
Good Heaven, defend! what is't I hear? you Gods,  
Can then Sertorius bow to any Shrine  
Than what so oft he ' has sworn by? am I then  
Lost in the novelty? So bliss, when reaped,  
Serves only to delight in absent thought.  Sert. 
By Heaven, the Vestal fire is not more pure,  
Than what my heart does offer up to thee,  
The Altar of thy Love, thy Beauty's Throne;  
Where thoughts take birth, as Gold by fire Refined.  
Can I in Friendship then commit a crime,  
Sorrowing that loss which might have been our own?  
Honour commands a Sympathy in grief:  
But Love, the noble passion of the Soul,  
Does in the glass reflect upon itself,  
And while it views inflames the Element.  Ter. 
Forgive me, Quintus: such ' the tender seat  
Where Love's enthroned, such jealousies, such cares  
‛ Tend on the Passion, that we tread the Maze,  
And wander in the Labyrinth of thought,  
When the Idea by our Fancy raised  
Proves Rebel, and with Jealousy unites:  
But now, enlightened by thy words, I feel  
Joy in thy presence; with thee Sympathize.  Sert. 
Lead forward, Friends, you Sinews of the War,  
In shape like Men, but in your deeds like Gods;  
Divide the Spoils, and Reign for ever here:  
While to the Powers Divine we celebrate  
Thanks, suiting to the Glories we have won;  
Perfume the locks of the now setting Sun.  [Exeunt.   


ACT. IU. SCEN. I.  Cassius Solus. 
I FIND myself o'r-pow'red, my Reason gone,  
The Magic of the Soul has left its found;  
Bereaved of all the noble Roman, now  
I walk, and breath pollution to the Air;  
Such as might well infect the Antidote:  
But like that Roman, viewing round his Fate,  
Suddenly down the dreadful Gemonieses,  
Preventing the defame of common hands,  
Met boldly with his Fate, and brave in death;  
Thou, Cassius, must at once, (hard Fortune thine!)  
Be thy Accuser, Judge, and Murderer,  
In death to wipe the scandal from thy Fame:  
That, when thy Earthly part's sublimed with Fire,  
Thy Spirit rarified, may see thy Urn  
Watered with tears, and hear thy story told.   

SCEN. II.  Terentia, Cassius. Ter. 
Trust me, thou Roman, I lament thy Fate,  
Which hurries thee, in paths obscure to us,  
Thus to consume: thou seem'st a walking Ghost,  
And, like a Spirit, covetest lonely Shades;  
There breathest complaints; while thy lamenting Friends  
Beg, and entreat thou wouldst admit of cure:  
With folded arms, and looks which shoot themselves  
Into the Earth, thou sighest denial out.  
Hither I've traced thee, and resolve to know  
If there be Power in Friendship; or the Name  
But Fiction.  Cass. 
Oh, thou excellently Fair!  
Yet from that excellence my griefs proceed.  
Did I not feel my Fate grasp fast my life;  
Dumb to my woes, as they by Nature made,  
I'd sink into my Urn.  Ter. 
Bless me, you Powers!  
What have I done? what horrid crime committed,  
To make a Friend wither, with thought, to shade;  
The gift of Gods in life? Oh, Cassius, tell;  
That, with the haste of Penitents, I fly  
Unto the pitying Gods, which hover o'er  
Their holy Mansions: say what Sacrifice,  
What Vows, what Incense may atone their Ire;  
For I shall never taste of peace or rest  
Till I, the Cause, have quieted thy grief.  Cass. 
White, as the thought of Innocence, thou art;  
Pure, like the first Creation, from all guilt;  
That takes it source from the internal frame:  
Yet, though attended, circled round with gifts,  
The only Jewel of heavens' treasury,  
Such is the violence of headstrong Fate,  
I covet— (Oh, how th' unwilling Soul,  
Just on the brink of ruin, all confused,  
Casts a sad look upon her long-loved seat,  
ere for Immortal change she takes her flight!)  Ter. 
Oh, free me, Cassius', from these doubts and fears,  
Which make a Winter's storm within my blood.  
Did I not call upon Sertorius love  
To raise my Soul, depressed with such a weight,  
Sure I should sink in Sorrow's vast Abyss,  Cass. 
You have commanded, and I will obey:  
Free you from this; but fear a second storm,  
More dreadful, and more just. You called on Love!  
That raises you; but sinks me down to Hell:  
For what, but Love, could thus effect a change;  
Transform me from the being that I had?  Ter. 
I am amazed! what is't that Cassius means?  Cass. 
But, oh! when, naming Love, I view that face,  
Like him who, gazing on the works of Heaven,  
Lost life in admiration of the Object!  
Pity me, Fair; though justly you condemn:  
And, when I say 'tis you that I adore,  
For you thus wither,— and thus lose myself;  [Stabs himself. 
Say, in my death, That Honour to my Friend  
Held a contest with Love, and mastered it.  Ter. 
Help, help the wretched; who, distract with pain,  
Has sheathed his killing Dagger in his breast.  Enter her Women. 
Oh, run, Camilla; call the Sons of Art,  
To stay this deluge; in which Life does haste  
To find a passage.  Cass. 
In vain is human help.  
Let me, in death, Adore; and shoot my Soul,  
Viewing thy face, into Elysium shades.  
Forgive the boldness of my love: though Death  
Comes swiftly on; yet, ere the latest blast,  
Let me entreat you'll to my memory  
(Howe'er you hate me now) be pitiful.   

SCEN. III.  Sertorius, Terentia, Cassius. Sert. 
Who was't that called for help?— Ha! 'tis myself,  
To bear with patience such a sight as this!  
Gods, you're unkind; more cruel, than she's false!  
By Heaven, She weeps, and baths him with her tears!  
Oh, the inconstancy of all the Sex;  
That damns the living, and torments the dead!  
I will retire from hence; and wish I could  
Forget I e'er had being.  Ter. 
Oh, my Lord,  
Stay you so long without a helping hand?  Sert. 
Ha! by Heaven, she'd make a Property of me!  
Death, Hell, and Furies, 'tis too much to bear.  Ter. 
See here, my Lord, the noble Cassius slain.  Sert. 
What saidst thou? Cassius dying? How the word  
Has calmed the passion, at the name of Friend!  
So the Earth's vapours, when the Sun appears,  
Dissolve to Dew. Oh, Cassius! Oh, my Friend!  
Tell me, how came this wound imprinted here?  Cass. 
Give me your hand; and swear forgiveness to me.  Sert. 
By all the Gods, I do.  Cass. 
Then I shall die  
Freed of the bitter anguish of the mind.  
I have offended, but it was in thought;  
'Twas the ill blood rebelled within my Veins:  
But from the sluices I have loosed the slave,  
And die a Roman; yet my Rebel eyes  
Will fix upon the Object of my Soul,  
Now plunging o'er the mighty Main of Death.  Dies. Sert. 
Forbear, thou saucy Tyrant, for a while;  
If thou want'st Subjects for thy eager maw,  
I'll give thee thousands, spare me but this one.  
He's gone, he's gone; the fleeting Soul has passed  
The bounds of life! Night, out of Chaos take  
The blackest of thy Wardrobe, thrust back day,  
That all the World may mourn in endless Darkness.  
Weep on, Terentia: for thy tears, like Balm,  
Will please his Manes, and allay my grief.  
Takeup the Body, and erect a Pile  
Great as a Pyramid: from the blessed, look down,  
And see thy last of Rites. Oh, might there rise  
Another Phoenix from the Sacrifice.  [Exeunt.  

SCEN. IU.  Fulvia, Perpenna. Ful. 
The angry Fates now crowd to serve our will;  
Lest they should want in mischief, as in power:  
Ligurius, Decius, are my Proselytes,  
Greedily swallow up the gilded bait,  
And hurry on to ruin. But, I fear,  
Bebricius Friendship will admit no change  
For, though he loves, and to the height of passion,  
In his rough Soul such Honour is impressed,  
He'll sooner turn Apostate unto Love  
Than derogate from him who fills his praise.  Perp. 
Crassus, Norbanus, and Tribunius come;  
With many more inclined unto our Faction.  
The lightest Souls thou hast already fired,  
While the consid'ering Fools are catched by me:  
Norbanus honour, nor the Tribuneship  
Which Crassus has, nor famed Tribunius charge,  
Are strong enough against th' assaults I make.  Ful. 
What doom you of Bebricius?  Perp. 
He must die.  Ful. 
Then, let him die: but shall he fall, before  
The Tragedy intended?  Perp. 
Yes, he must:  
Lest he betray us to that Fiend Sertorius.  Ful. 
I think, 'twere better that you let him fall  
Associate with the mighty Deity  
He Idolizes: let 'em mount together;  
And, erring from the slippery paths of Heaven,  
Sink headlong down, into eternal Night.  Perp. 
Retire, my Fair, and invocate of Chance  
To cease the motion of her giddy Wheel,  
Till I have fixed the Engines of his Fate.  [Exit. Fulvia. 
Answer me, jove, in Thunder, if that man  
To greatness born, by interposing Fate  
Headlong flung down th' aspiring Precipice,  
Yet labouring to regain the mighty top,  
Views round the spacious Empire of his toil;  
Can any guile or fraud as pierce his fame  
Who makes his opposite his step to mount?  
If thou dar'st answer me, I will speak aloud  
That Romulus, the man thou snatched from Earth  
To Deify, forgetting ties of blood,  
Removed his Brother, to secure his Rule.  
I dare as much, and court thee in my deeds,  
Tho Ill, yet great, and offer 'em to thee;  
For thou, with thoughts Olympic firest the brave,  
Lifts 'em from Earth into the middle sky,  
And points 'em out the Regions of the World:  
'Tis thee I invocate; and wish I could  
(As once unto Lycaon's House thou didst)  
Turn all into a Flame, and Nature change.  Enter a Servant. Seru. 
Sir, there are many Gentlemen without  
That wait admittance.  Perp. 
Go, conduct 'em in:  
They're the Conspirators.  Exit. Servant.  

SCEN. V.  Crassus, Ligurius, Norbanus, Decius, Tribunius; to Perpenna. Trib. 
Hail, noble Roman!  Crass. 
Hail noble Cneius!  Lig. 
Hail the great Perpenna!  Dec. 
Hail the great Perpenna!  Nor. 
Hail the great Perpenna!  Perp. 
The Omen's well, that, with a mind unite  
To carry on this great deliv'ering work,  
We here are met, as at a Signal given:  
Tribunius, Crassus, and Ligurius,  
Norbanus, and good Decius, use no speech;  
But seat yourselves. Now, Roman Lords, and Friends,  
Once great in Fortune, not in emty sound;  
The all that we enjoy; though we may feign,  
Like melancholy men who Reign in thought,  
Revel in joys, the mere Ideas formed  
From Fancy, wrought into a height by words,  
But the effect is Air: Can you, my Friends,  
Tho we may credit, in our fullness, things  
Which stupid ease creates, be or secure or great?  
We call ourselves a Senate, and beget  
Thoughts we are truly so. Sertorius says,  
When barbarous Gauls sacked Rome and laid it waste,  
Camillus unto Vei made retreat,  
Gave out, that Rome itself was thither moved;  
And, for the confirmation, added this:  
" Where e'er the Senate was, there Rome was still;  
Alluding to our abject States, to please  
A few, once Senators, now Exiled men.  
Say then, if Cneius may be bold to speak  
The plainest of his thoughts.  Nor. 
You have, Perpenna.  Crass. 
W ' expect from thee, as from an Oracle.  Lig. 
Speak free, Perpenna; for thou art our Fate.  Perp. 
Say we have fought, and gained a Victory,  
If I may call it so; but which of you,  
From public hands received the benefit?  
Or did the Crowd echo your names from far;  
Or to your Houses carry you with shouts?  
If any such be here, than I am mute.  Omnes. 
None; none, Perpenna.  Perp. 
Know you why it was?  
For great Sertorius, like a boundless Sea,  
Swallows the many rivulets in his Main.  
Which of your Swords cut not as deep as His?  
I saw you fight, and stood amazed at it.  
What have the Barbarous given you in return  
For such expense? If praise will cure your wounds,  
The Soldier's purchase; whether since, or no,  
They've thought you worthy merit?  Trib. 
We all fought:  
They looked upon us, raised a shout, and cried,  
The God's reward the noble Roman Chiefs.  Perp. 
ay, there it is; the Gods must pay you thanks,  
While, like a Tyrant, he ingrosses all;  
And leaves us not our fame. But now I'll haste  
To search our hidden griefs. Sertorius says  
Sylla's a Fury; truly, so it seems,  
For, maugre all opposers, still he Rules;  
His Fame mounts with the Chariot of the Sun,  
Rises and sets with his Etherial light:  
Yet we despise him, and contemn his power,  
Content with sound, and lulled with flattery.  
Is not the beaten Pompey at our walls?  
Has not Metellus joined him? nay, has not  
Sylla threatened to be here? yet we sleep,  
Surrounded with these dangers. Noble Friends,  
If any of you think I use this speech  
To alienate your Loyalty; of form  
Language that bears a bane unto your worths;  
Speak, and Perpenna shall be ever mute.  Lig. 
The hast freed us from the Lethargy, and added  
Long-absent heat: Go on, thou noble Roman,  
Who, while we slept, beheld our certain Fate.  Perp. 
This City, which, to Rome, is like a Star  
In magnitude, unto the Moon at full,  
He calls New Rome; the Superstitious Crowd,  
Pleased with Novelty, count him a God:  
And pay him Adoration. Don't we find,  
While we exclaim 'gainst Sylla, Sylla here?  
Here, in Sertorius? is he not Lord of Rule?  
Does he not write himself Dictator too?  
Saves, or destroys? are not his words as Laws?  
And, though he Lures us with the name of Friends,  
Are we not under his Authority?  
When I consider, noble Romans, jove  
Rive me with Thunder, if it irks me not,  
To see ourselves thus, by ourselves, deceived.  Nor. 
Thou'dst read the mystic Character of Fate,  
And found the number of the Sacred Writ:  
Now lead the path, remote from Slavery.  Perp. 
I were not, Romans, worthy of your loves,  
Could I not shun, as well as see the danger.  
Consider, Friends, now, as your latest choice;  
For Freedom is't, or Slavery we toil?  
If Freedom we desire, as I believe  
No Roman breaths a Soul, or holds a Life  
Worthy enjoying, without the blessed Name;  
It must be (pardon me, for God's command)  
By blood: Nay, start not, worthy Roman Friends;  
We all must suffer, if he lives; if dies,  
We've all the World to rove in, or divide  
The Provinces amongst us. Old Metellus  
Will sign our own Conditions; Sylla courts us:  
Lest, staying in their power, we join with Pompey;  
Whom, well I know that, he both hates and fears.  
Speak then, my Friends, and ease me from my doubts:  
If, by my freeness, I am odious grown;  
This hand, which willingly should aid your cause,  
Shall ease me of the weight of life I bear.  Trib. 
Oft have I served him, in the fiercest fights,  
And think no man e'er courted more his love;  
But, since the general good requires his fall,  
I willingly assent to't.  (Crass.) 
So do I  Nor. 
And all.  Lig. 
And all.  Dec. 
And all.  Perp. 
Give me your hands. First yours, Ligurius;  
Now, noble Tribune, yours; honoured Norbanus;  
Tribunius, though last, yet Chief of all.  
Since Heaven has put into our hands a Shield,  
To ward the body from distress, Oh, Friends,  
Watchful with cares, retiring to the Cave  
Sacred to Fortune, which in Gaul I found,  
Offering the Sacred Rites, lo, from her mouth  
This sound was heard:" Awake, thou sleepy man,  
" And dissipate those heavy clods of Earth;  
" whose's pitchy vapours do, like Meteors, hang  
" About thy Soul; Gods have decreed the fall  
" Of proud Sertorius, and have chose thee out  
" To free the Romans from their Slavish State:  
" i'll move before thee, and prepare thy way;  
" Into their minds instil the lost desire  
" Of Liberty. This said, the God was mute.  
By the concurrence, well I know the power  
That the indulgent Gods unto our Fates  
By this effect have given. Death is the word;  
But how, and when, and where, you noble Romans,  
Shall this great Act which gives us Liberty,  
By Gods commanded, be by us performed?  Trib. 
Fortune has chose thee out to lead us on:  
Thou, who conversest with a Deity,  
In my opinion, aught to be our Head.  Crass. 
Perpenna's thoughtful, wise, and valiant,  
Bends all his Study for the Roman good;  
And, in this cause, must lead us forth to act.  Nor. 
Do, noble Cneius; for we're vowed to thee:  
Point out the way, though circled with the Fates,  
We'd gain the prize, or perish in th' attemt.  Perp 
Secure in all your loves, I dare disclose  
The secrets of my breast; and form a way  
Subtle and sure, as what the God's Decree.  
What think you, Friends, if that he fall this night,  
Deluded with a Tale of Victory?  
I have the Engines ready for the work;  
The fire is kindled, and the Forge complete:  
And we the many hands to batter down  
This vast Colossus. But, with him, must fall  
Bebricius; who, with jealous eyes, inspects  
Into the very marrow of our Plot:  
The real Argus; and a trusty Villain.  Trib. 
Delay is dangerous; since we are confirmed,  
Why should our Swords, ready to act our wills,  
Grow to the Scabbards? Freedom is the prize  
For which we fight: now, in the face of Day,  
The Sun should view the glory of the deed.  Perp. 
Brave Spirit! that's so forward in the Cause,  
Signal from Heaven to fan us into flame!  
But that the Gods decree it otherwise,  
Blest would my Optics be, to see thy Sword  
Hue Slavery in pieces. This I've thought;  
When high in hope, pleased with the splendid Tale  
Of victory, won from Sylla's Officers:  
He sups with me to night; and that's his last.  
The Lusita nian who admires him so  
As the dull Clown the Thunder-making God,  
Not knowing that the warring Elements  
Create the same without the thunderer's hands,  
Must with him fall. Draw all your Swords. Now swear,  
By all the Powers which sat when Man was made;  
By all the Being's abstract from those Po'wrs,  
Sea, Air, and Fire; by day, and Erebus;  
And by th' Eternal Flames of Pluto's Realm:  
When Time the happy minute points out,  
You Swords cut deep into the Monster's heart.  Omnes. 
We swear.  Perp. 
Methinks, I see the Landscape of his Fate,  
By angry Daemons, stretched to a full length;  
While the pleased Gods their heavenly Curtains draw,  
And from the Crystal Casements of the Sky  
With purer light Illuminate the Moon,  
Pale with the greatness of the glorious deed  
Which makes an Empire, and subverts a State,  
And, from my breath, forms the Decrees of Fate.  [Exeunt.   


ACT. V. SCEN. I.  Bebricius, Sertorius. Bebr. 
IF the Decrees of jove, in Thunder spoke,  
Or the sad Character of warring Gods,  
In ample Prodigies enlarge themselves;  
You must not hence, unless unto your Fate:  
Osca, till now, was stranger to these sights,  
Which fright the vulgar, and confound the wise.  
Last night, when Horror did in darkness Reign,  
When Graves gave up their dead to trace the Earth,  
And the unquiet Ghosts, as robbed of rest,  
With horrid Schreams and howlings of the Damned,  
Filled every Soul with terror of the change:  
Our Priests (as when Neptune his Trident struck  
The angry Element, and called the Springs  
To vomit up a Deluge o'er the Earth,)  
To every Power Divine they Sacrifice;  
While angry Heaven in Thunder drowns their Prayers  
And with repeated Storms, does threaten end  
To the World's frame.  Sert. 
'Tis strange indeed, Bebricius;  
But, if the Gods Decree the final change,  
Why should we dread what first or last will come?  
jove, from the Earth, formed us to what we are;  
Infused a noble fire within our Souls,  
Whose heat gave life, and wrought our stupid Sense  
Unto the glorious actions, which create  
Envy in Gods, and Honour in us Men,  
And makes our Fame outlive us in our deeds.  Bebr. 
That Glory is the Soul of noble men  
Living to merit, justly I believe;  
But when on Earth, as once was 'gainst the heavens'  
The Being's which from Chaos were produced  
Rose in Rebellion 'gainst the Lord of all:  
The kinder Gods, by glorious actions won,  
Speak loud, as far as Fate will give 'em leave,  
To save the mortal loved from sudden harm.  Sert. 
Thou wouldst persuade me then, that this portends  
Danger to me; pointed to me alone?  
Wouldst in my breast infuse I know not what,  
And make me Subject to an idle fear?  Bebr. 
The Gods declare, that we may shun that Storm  
Which gathers in the Wind, and threats from far:  
Not with a Natural war divides the Clouds;  
But, speaking, forms a Thunder with his voice;  
Which, did not Fate oppose, would Echo here  
The Revolutions known in Skies above.  
ay, as a Prophet, and by Friendship fired,  
Swell with the object; which my thoughts unravel:  
And now, the visits, veiled by Night and shame,  
Appear at full; made by Perpenna's guile:  
Crassus, Ligurius, could not shun my sight,  
Tho winged by fear, and muffled with their Cloaks;  
'Twas there I housed 'em; and am confident  
A nest of Villains brood within the walls.  Sert. 
It is impossible. Can they, my Friends,  
Equal in greatness and in power, as when  
Marius did awe in Rome, contrive the fall  
Of him who raised 'em to that height of power  
They now enjoy? Persuade me to believe  
The melancholy which Norbanus bears  
Deep in his blood, promts him to change! Oh, no:  
They court the lonely places, and do hate  
Human Society, the joy of Earth!  
Or that Ligurius lightness in discourse  
May give occasion to distrust him! I've,  
In numerous dangers, seen him act as far  
As the loud-talking Hero of the Field.  
Tribunius merit raised him to that seat  
Which now he holds; next thee, and my dead Cassius,  
The man I prize; Can these my best of Friends,  
Conspire against the man that they divide?  Bebr. 
Pray Heaven the Nation feel not the effects.  
This I am sure, There is no good intended;  
For, when I was devoted unto Love,  
Admired the beauteous creature of her Sex,  
That Sodom Apple, whose fair outside temts  
Death in the taste, Plots and contrives like Fate,  
Has numerous visitants of hot-brained youth,  
Coveting danger for a smile from her;  
Decius, the chief, who leads the pleasing Maze;  
While she, adorned like Venus, shoots her beams  
Into their Souls; which in a mighty blaze,  
As subject Flames commanded by the Winds,  
Threatens destruction: Can Sertorius think  
Perpenna ign'orant of this work of Night?  
No; I have seen him, unconcerned, behold  
Such amorous glances, and such liberty,  
With his fair Wife; that, were it not designed  
To lure 'em with the specious bait of Beauty,  
It were above an honest man to bear.  Sert. 
The aged, Bebricius, always look on youth  
With thoughts of danger and of Jealousy;  
And, from the gayness (which they think adorns,)  
That makes 'em light and Airy in their Mien,  
Take too severe a judgement. Oh, Friend! in Love  
We know not what we say; but if the Sex  
Command a deed ignoble, than the brave  
Shake off the Fetters of the Amorous God,  
And loathe the object which affected change.  Bebr. 
'Tis fixed in Fate. Sooner the Adamant,  
By vernal dew, shall all its hardness lose;  
Than the lost minute call from hoary Time,  
Whose Scythe has cut deep into ignorance.  
'Tis not my fault, you Gods; for, as a Friend,  
And called to speak, I've uttered every thought.  
Hast then, Sertorius, struggle with thy Fate,  
Roar like a Lion catched within the Toil,  
Neglecting the poor Beast that gave him warning:  
Then, when enclosed, I'll summon all my strength;  
Or set thee free, or perish in the Snare.  Sert. 
Something thou'st said, like Ice, sits chilling here;  
And the rash thought, though light as Air before,  
Now, like a weight hurled in some quiet stream,  
In many circles wreaths th' adjacent flood,  
And from the bottom raises flakes of Ouze:  
The clearness of my mind, once void of fear,  
Thou hast infected with the poisonous sound.  
Oh Doubt, that torturest more than points of Swords!  
By Heaven, these shapes of fear, these dreams of night,  
Thus I discard, for ever banish hence,  
And live above the reach of envious men.   

SCEN. II.  Terentia, Sertorius, Bebricius. Ter. 
Thou must not pass, unless upon my death;  
Which I oppose, to fill the breach of Fate.  
Can (Oh the cruel question to be made!)  
Sertorius love, love his Terentia still?  
If I have power, or if these tears prevail,  
Oh; let my words find credit in thy breast.  Sert. 
By jove, my manhood fails; I grow to Earth:  
Speak and release the Agony thou'st made.  Ter. 
By all the joys of Hymen, all the sweets▪  
That wait on Love; nay, by the secret bliss  
That happy Souls enjoy, Oh, stir not hence.  
Swift, as a Pile hurled by the Delphic God,  
Barbed with destruction, comes our ruin on:  
Aurelia is no more; I saw her Ghost,  
The dear remembrance of a Friend and Mother,  
Thrice cry Cursed Rome! then, from her eyes, burst forth  
A flood of tears, which ushered on her woes:  
" Sertorius is no more, she often said;  
" I saw the Fates busy about his life,  
" The thread exposed on the immortal Shears,  
" And all the lesser Messengers on wing:  
This spoke, she vanished into Air again.  Sert. 
Sure, my Terentia, thou but dreamed the while;  
And this the product of thy fear!  Ter. 
Oh, no.  
Scarce recollected, viewing round the space,  
Too true I found the Vision, which out-fled  
Report itself: a Messenger arrived,  
With Letters, which confirm the fatal chance.  Sert. 
Oh, Mother, art thou come, to warn my Fate?  
Left the possession of thy quiet Urn,  
And thy distracted Spirit hovers here?  
Speak loud, you Gods; for I'm prepared for change:  
Why all these horors'? is it to amate  
The wandering Soul, when she her mansion leaves?  
lose all your Bolts, bury me quick in Earth,  
Rather than Rack with sounds exceeding death.   

SCEN. III.  Tribunius, Crassus, Norbanus, Ligurius, Sertorius, etc. Trib. 
Hail, mighty Lord! Imperial Conqueror!  
Great in thy deeds, as Phoebus is for light!  
Give leave, that we attend thee to the Feast:  
While that Perpenna of the favour proud,  
Envies the Thrones of Friendship that we have.  Sert. 
I will not go: do not inquire the cause;  
Let it suffice it is my will.  Trib. 
'Tis true  
That people whisper; here I find it now;  
Sertorius doubts the constancy and faith  
Of men, devoted wholly to his Fame;  
Men, which have sworn in death to follow thee;  
Men, which have left the Roman State for thee:  
To ashes turned the Tables Sylla sent,  
With ample restitution, and full honour.  
I see the hate thou bear'st us, in thy eyes:  
Oh, would they had the power of Basilisks,  
To kill the Villain who infected thee!  Sert. 
Mistake me not, Tribunius: I'm not well,  
And do not like the fierceness of the Air.  Trib. 
Mistake me not, Sertorius; nor believe  
Thy secret thoughts are hid: I see 'em there,  
There, in thy eyes; and hear 'em in thy words;  
And curse my Stars I ever lived to hear.  
Crassus, Ligurius, and Norbanus, come,  
Draw all your Daggers, and complete our doom:  
To live suspected, by the man we love,  
Is worse than death.  Sert. 
What means Tribunius?  Trib. 
Thou shalt read here, and glut thee with the Character,  
Writ with these Pens of Steel, upon our hearts.  
But, Oh! the wretched State of human things!  
On what false Basis do we build our hopes;  
Thus subject to the blast of every wind?  
Know, thou Sertorius, that I hate to live  
Under the very Igno'miny of thought.  Nor. 
View all these Scars, the badges of my love,  
Gained by thy side, in Battle; call to mind  
How oft I've interposed 'twixt thee and death:  
This single arm, as glorying in thy sight,  
Has made a Lane in the opposing Foes.  
What have I ever done, to merit this?  
What action, in my life has made a crime?  
Did I but think my Soul could harbour one  
Against my Friend, by Heaven I'd stab that too.  Lig. 
Believe me, General, that I court thy worth,  
A Servant to thy Virtue; and this Steel,  
Hasting to let out life when so reviled,  
Shall pierce as deep into a Loyal heart:  
Nay, I believe, that man, who loves me not,  
Would be a pledge in Honour for my faith.  Bebr. 
Why namest thou me, Ligurius? well thou know'st,  
When darkness summons all the World to rest,  
You're waking at Perpenna's, loathe all sleep,  
And there confederate: at such hours of Night,  
No good can e'er be hatched; but Treason may.  Lig. 
Thou liest, base man. Now, by the Thunderer,  
Wert thou not safe within this sacred place,  
Hadst thou as many lives as Hydra heads,  
I'd kill 'em one by one. From hence it springs,  
Here takes it Source; and, like a Plague, Infects.  
Bind me, Sertorius; lead me where no light  
ere shot its Beams; and, if you find it truth,  
Invent a Torment new, and terrible,  
Exceeding all the labours of the Damned:  
But, till I'm justly doomed, believe my breast,  
Like Crystal, casts this poison in his Teeth.  Sert. 
What thinks Terentia now? how can I doubt  
Such Friends as these? Come, we will go, my Fair:  
Banish distrust; and think the Prodigies  
Were only to amuse, not to Predict.  
Let not these men know of our inward grief;  Apart to Terentia. 
But bear it with the patience of a God.  Ter. 
Yet there is something dictates in my breast  
This visit will be fatal; and I see,  
Like dying men, prospect of mighty things:  
From fear they cannot come; to me, they seem  
Like Meteors fixed, not flying forms of Air.  Sert. 
Come, my Bebricius, do like me, believe  
Not one of all these Romans can be false.  
Ligurius, come, forgive the hasty words;  
Age has its faults, as well as fiery youth:  
The one must bear th' other's Infirmities.  
And credit me, such is the great esteem,  
If in the scope of Rule you cast an eye.  
To any part which raises strong desire;  
Command Sertorius, who no Treasure knows  
Beyond th' intrinsic value of a Friend.  [Exeunt.  

SCEN. IU.  PERPENNA. Perp. 
I grow in love with mischief; and the Gods,  
Envying like me, consent unto his fall.  
If there's a Fury greater than I feel,  
A subtle Daemon that I have not sought;  
Let him expand his wings, and habit here.  
Dull Fools they were that sought eternal Fame  
By deeds not worthy naming: He that fired  
Diana's Temple; or that stupid Ass  
Who headlong fell in flaming Aetna's womb,  
In hopes to cheat the Vulgar, lost himself.  
I mount a Sphere above 'em. As, in Hell,  
The lesser Fiends are Slaves unto their Lord,  
And band the fiery Surges to his will:  
So I, on Earth, would with this arm control;  
And, if the disobedient Clods rebelled,  
Find the Connexion of the Globes above,  
And with this Sword divide the mighty tie,  
That headlong with its weight it sunk to Hell,  
And made the Furies groan beneath its Orb;  
While, from the Region of the Sky, I saw  
Its mighty dissolution, unconcerned.   

SCEN. V.  Fulvia, Perpenna. Ful. 
You seem exalted with success, Perpenna;  
Tread upon Air, and breathe a Soul all fire.  Perp. 
Yes; and behold my juno fixed by me:  
While the connected Atoms, Statue-like,  
Know nether life nor motion, till we speak.  Ful. 
How if, Ixion-like we ' embrace a Cloud?  Perp. 
Why, then that Cloud shall hide us both for ever:  
Slighting the Earth, we'll put our beings off,  
And wing for the Society of Gods.  
I hear the noise of many feet: let's hence,  
And meet the Victim.  [Exeunt.  

SCEN. VI  A Banquet. At it, Sertorius, Perpenna, Tribunius, Crassus, Decius, Ligurius, Norbanus, Bebricius, Attendants. Perp. 
Such was the time, in the Lactean way,  
When frightened Gods, by Sons of Earth besieged,  
Sat there in Council with Immortal fear,  
Till all the fainting Powers, by Bacchus fired,  
Forced jove unto his Thunder: Here we sit,  
While Pompey's Rams are storming at our walls;  
Whose Blows are Harmony unto our Feast.  Sert. 
It is, Perpenna, and a Godlike sound,  
Enough to sink the fearful into Earth;  
But we, as seated on a Throne, behold  
Ruin spread wide the Terror of its wings:  
They, like Cambyses, rage against the wind,  
Till wearied with the object; then we hast,  
Mounted on Death, give Reins unto the Sword,  
And glut the Furies with whole Seas of Gore.  Perp. 
When great Sertorius speaks, he should, like jove,  
Have Thunder ready; all the Elements  
Ready to make a second Chaos stand;  
And all the World, as dreading the fierce change,  
Become aghast: But, viewing round, I see  
The Cyclops wanting Bolts for such a work;  
Nor has old Vulcan captived Time, or yet  
The fatal Sisters ta'en 'em to their Shears.  Bebr. 
Ha! means he me, by Vulcan? captived Time?  
By Heaven, my fears I find now are not vain.  
How dares Perpenna thus abuse the Gods;  
And in a language strange, unto a Friend,  
Dost call the Son of Anthropos a jove,  
Yet mockest his wanting Ministers of wrath?  Sert. 
No more, Bebricius; he is hot with wine:  
Give him his liberty; he is our Friend.  Perp. 
Let not Sertorius doubt the proof of it.  
Free men have Liberty; 'tis Slaves have Chains:  
And well I know Quintus will ne'er impose  
Upon a Roman, what a Roman hates.  
For Liberty, Sertorius knows, we've fought;  
And we would do't again, knee-deep in blood:  
Let's see that Talker fight, instead of speak;  
Let Oratory hang upon his Sword;  
But, till the Field sets forth his mighty worth,  
Confine that Gall which dwells upon his Tongue.  Sert. 
It is unkind, Perpenna, thus to rate him;  
He is a worthy man, and bears a Soul  
Great, as the proudest Roman: I have seen  
Wonders performed where ere his Sword has come,  
And death before the blow has made its way:  
Such worthy actions in my Camp has done,  
That nether Pompey, nor Metellus, can't  
When he is named but reverence the sound.  Perp. 
Now, Romans, be you Judges of the change  
So long I warned you of: See, see our Fates;  
See all the merits that our wounds have got;  
That now, when Pompey girts us in our walls,  
He dares prefer this man the only Friend,  
This graybeard Villain, who contrives our fall,  
That when the danger which invades is past,  
'Tis he must Lord it o'er our Liberties.  Trib. 
Speak thou for me how much I loathe a Chain.  [Stabs Sertorius. Sert 
Ha! Sure 'twas deadly. Ho! my Guards, my Guards!  Perp. 
Be not deluded with so false a hope;  
There's not a Soul that dares but think relief.  Bebr. 
Thou seest I've yet that strength within my arm  
To turn thy Dagger's point upon thyself.  [Here Ligurius is Stabbed by Bebricius, who escapes. 
There is no safety here: I'll haste away,  
And come attended with Revenge ere Day.  [Exit. Sert. 
Oh, Barbarous Vaillains! Treason; help.  Perp. 
'Tis here,  
Sertorius, on this point: despair, and die,  
Thou base, ingrateful man: hadst thou survived,  
We'd been thy Slaves; but, thank our Swords, we're free.  Sert. 
Yet I die pleased, to know thy sudden Fate;  
I see it now before me; view the man:  
Pompey revenges me. I see these men,  
That shame the name of Friend to that degree,  
In so deplorable and lost a state;  
That their own Souls begin to loathe their make,  
And curse the hour when first they saw Perpenna.  
Oh, my Terensia! thy Prophetic fear  
Is now accomplished. Oh, uncertain Chance,  
How subtle are thy ways that Greatness tread!  
Which guides us on unto our certain Fate,  
And never leaves us till our life is fled!  Perp. 
Die, Wizard. Think'st thou that I fear my Fate?  
No; 'tis on thee I build the mighty frame,  
And seem a Body second unto Atlas:  
Thus grasp a Sceptre, and thus rule my Stars;  
Since, by thy death, our Liberty is gained.  
Shout, till your voices burst the Clouds to Air;  
That with the violence of meeting sounds,  
The Globe grows giddy, and inconstant Fortune  
No longer can command her fickle Wheel.  Shouts, Liberty, Freedom, Liberty!  

SCEN. VII.  Terentia to Perpenna, &c, Ter. 
Cursed be the sound for ever; ever cursed  She runs to Sertorius body, and kneels by it. 
The cruel Villains! why is't you delay?  
Sheath all your murderous weapons in my breast?  
And show yourselves Masters in Villainy,  
That know no bounds in blood. Oh Sertorius,  
How have the Gods ordained our Destinies!  [Weeps. Sert. 
Terentia, oh—  Dies. Ter. 
Sertorius; Lord; 'tis thy Terentia calls.  
He's gone, he's gone; and summoned me away,  
To shades remote; which happy souls enjoy:  
Yet, my Sertorius, stay thee in thy race,  
Hover a minute o'er Terentia's Fate;  
See with what swiftness I'll pursue thy shade  
To its Immortal Mansion!— Flow swift, my blood;  Stabs herself. 
That, from this passage, like a Sea broke loose,  
My Soul shall mount; still calling, as it flies,  
Justice from Gods, Revenge for perjured men,  
Quintus, I come: From Earth I now remove,  
And seek the Ghost of an Eternal Love.  Dies. Perp. 
Some Devil sure resides within my breast;  
I ne'er knew pity, till I saw this sight:  
Nor will I now. Remove these Bodies hence:  
Place 'em within; that, viewing our disgrace,  
When coward thoughts dare give themselves a birth,  
Look on the Tyrant, call to mind his deeds;  
And if the Gods dare put a cheat upon us,  
We'll wait not Death, but make him ' tend on us.  Trib. 
Farewell, thou noble Roman; we shall meet  Goes to Ligurius. 
In happy shades: while thy blessed soul delights  
In the success that waits upon our Swords.  
Speak then, Perpenna; shall we sally out,  
Or send to treat with Pompey?  Perp. 
Noble Friends,  
It will disgrace the glory of our deeds,  
Sully our Fame achieved in fiercest War,  
To lay those killing weapons at his feet  
Whose edge has forced him from the Field retreat.  
Are not our Legions full? their souls o' fire?  
This City ours, to back us in the fight?  
While in their Camp, Famine and Sickness Reigns,  
Let's out, and chase these Spectres from our Walls,  
That fright us like the shadows of the night,  
Whose withered substance much resembles theirs.  Omnes. 
Lead on, thou Soul of all the noble Romans.  
Alarms and shout within.   

SCEN. VIII.  A Roman Soldier, to Perpenna, etc. Perp. 
What dreadful message dwells upon thy tongue?  
Why thus confused? Call back thy frightened sense,  
And tell us what's the meaning of this sound.  Rom. 
Pompey is entered Osca; all is lost:  
Bebricius, scaping from the bloody Feast,  
Turned all into Sedition; for the Crowd  
No sooner heard their loved Sertorius dead,  
Quitting their several stations, opened the Gates  
To Pompey's Soldiers, fired with strange desire.  
Both parties now are one: Bebricius leads  
The num'erous bands, and has begirt us round.  
There is no scaping hence with life.  Perp. 
Hence, slave;  [Kills him. 
And preach to Furies, in the other World.  
'Sdeath, am I catched! betrayed by Jilting Fate,  
When the full Scene of Greatness was in view!  
It is too late to talk. Come, let our Swords  
Hue out a passage to our former state:  
And make the wondering Gods call back their Ire,  
To see how Slaughter does pursue our blows.  [Exeunt.  

SCEN. IX.  Fight. After which, Pompey, Bebricius, Lusitanians, Romans: Perpenna, Tribunius, and Norbanus Prisoners. Pomp. 
Such is the Fortune of Imperial Rome,  
When-e're her Sons against her do rebel,  
To turn the lot of ruin on their heads.  
Thou feared Sertorius, Rival to my Arms,  
Famed Soldier once that was, now thou'rt no more;  
By Heaven, it grieves me that I meet thee thus:  
In Battle, to complete my Victories,  
Bowing beneath the keenness of my Sword,  
Thou shouldst have fell, not by a Villain's hand.  Bebr. 
Forgive me, Oh thou Manes, this delay;  
I only live, to see thy death revenged.  Pompey. 
Where was thy sense of Honour, cruel man?  
Scythia, in falsehood, does fall short of thee:  
Not the contriving Furies of the deep  
Could e'er invent a greater Villainy.  Perp. 
Hold, Beardless Boy; thou Novice in a Camp,  
That oft has fled my Sword, as Schoolboy's Rods:  
Think upon Sucron Fields, and then be mute.  
Thou sayst that Hell could not afford a Scene  
Of greater mischief: I am proud of it.  
Empire I aimed at; had it once in sight;  
Till the cursed Gods cast in their bar between.  
In me, 'twas great; but it was base in these:  
And, if that Chance had blessed me with a Throne,  
Their heads had been the steps to mount upon.  Nor. 
Dog, Son of Night, engendered of the foam  
Of Cerberus, and Hell's contagious Dew.  Trib. 
Oh, I could eat my Chains, to come at thee!  Perp. 
Tribunius, please me with a Mask of Death:  
Knock out thy brains against those Ornaments,  
And let me see how bravely thou wilt die.  Trib. 
Blessed Fortune!— Take that, Parricide. When Hell's.  Snatches a Sword from a Soldier, & kills Perpenna. 
Capacious Kingdom does confine our Souls,  
There, in th' Infernal Lake, I'll plunge thee in;  
Sink with thee to Perdition; and, in pain,  
Take pleasure in thy Conquest. Lead me on;  
The Gemonieses, Tarpeian Rock is bliss,  
And death, which sets me free, a Paradise.   

SCEN. X.  Fulvia, distracted, to Pompey, etc. Ful. 
Room, room, you Slaves! 'tis Fulvia comes, your Queen;  
Bow to the Earth your stubborn knees; shout up  
Reverberated voices: For I'm grown  
Equal with Fame, and fill a mighty space.  
What means that abject posture? art thou chained?  
Chained to a Throne? Why flies not my Perpenna?  
Hast thou the World of business at thy heels,  
The Type of Empire? hurl it into Night,  
And free the Gods from their Eternal doom.  Perp. 
I thank thee, Tyrant, and obey thy power:  
Thou ne'er couldst visit in a better time.  
Take her away: by my lost hope, this sight  
Is worse than Hell; and bands my wretched Soul,  
Like angry Furies in the other World.  Ful. 
He's struck; he's struck: ha! how it streams apace!  
'Tis the first present of my Love I make:  (Stabbing Bebr. 
Now, glory of it in the other World.  Pomp. 
Seize on her, Guard: This is a bloody Night:  
The Moon hid herself behind a Cloud;  
And all the Stars, as though afraid, retire.  Bebr. 
I thank thee; thou hast saved me from a deed  
This hand ere day had done. I feel my end  
Move swiftly forwards; and a glimmering light  
Now shuts up day, and makes it ever night.  [Dies. Perp. 
Where were your safeguards now, you envying Powers?  
See, how we've snatched revenge from out your hands,  
And breath defiance! Could I pluck from time  
A minute longer, Pompey, thou should feel  
There was no safety in Perpennas' reach.  
It pleases me to think, when I am dead  
The mischief I have done will sfartle thee,  
And all the World name me a glorious Villain:  
And, when to Pluto's Region I arrive,  
The Gods will doubt more from my single Brain,  
Than all the Furies met against their Heaven.  
Oh, Fulvia! Death does hasten me away:  
I'm now his subject, and I must obey.  Dies Ful. 
I feel the mighty frame now goes to rack:  
My heart's divided with the deadly blow,  
And all my Senses at vast distance roam▪  
‛ Tending the Soul unto Eternity.  
Stretch wide your Kingdom, Furies, to receive  
Her, whom the World could not contain alive▪  
For my receptance, let whole Legions wait;  
That Pluto, wondering at the mighty State,  
Scorning his Queen, may place me in her Seat.  [Dies. Pomp. 
Remove the Bodies. To Sertorius Pile  
Add all the Ornaments that Soldiers boast:  
Break all your Shields; there all your Ensigns lay;  
And mourn that loss which sheaths your Swords again.  
Let him have common Burial. May the Gods  
Forget his Crimes; while Rome no Equal knows,  
Nor none contend against her Sovereign power:  
But to her Vengeance, as the Ire of Heaven,  
Wast into former Chaos, and forget  
That being which they had. Spread wide thy Gates,  
Oh Guardian Angel of the God's abode;  
Let Fame, from Pole to Pole, her Echo sound:  
While the whole World, obedient to her Power,  
Submit to Rome, as to her Emperor.  [Exeunt Omnes.    

EPILOGUE.  By Mr. Ravenscroft. 
OUR Poet to the learned Critics does submit,  
But scorns those little Vermin in the Pit,  
Who noise and nonsense vent instead of Wit:  
Those Airy empty Sparks that know no more  
Than how to dress and railly with a Whore;  
Nay all they say to 'em is perfect cant,  
And Vizord still runs down the weak Gallant:  
Vexed at her Repartee, he strokes his Wig,  
And cries, Damn me, you Whore you, I'll unrig:  
Then cursing her, he leaves her to the rest  
O'th' Fops—  
Or tears a Hood and Scarf to make a jest.  
Whence have these silly Monsters their pretence,  
That they should judges be of Wit and Sense?  
These Gnats about a Poet's Ears may swarm,  
But want a Sting to do him any harm.  
FINIS.