CALIGULA. A TRAGEDY, As it is Acted at the Theatre Royal, BY His MAJESTY's Servants. Written by Mr. Crown.  
LONDON: Printed by J. Orme, for R. Wellington, at the Lute in St. Paul's Churchyard, and sold by Percivil Gilborne, at the Harrow, at the corner of Chancery-Lane, and Bernard Lintott, at the Cross-Keys in St. Martins-Lane, near Long-Acre. 1698.  
ADVERTISEMENTS.  
☞ There is lately published the History of Polybius the Megalopolitan, containing an Account of the Affairs of the whole World. Translated by Sir Henry Sheers and Mr. Dryden, in three Volumes, the third never before Printed.  
Love in Ruins, or, the Fatal Discovery. Imposture Defeated, or a Trick to cheat the Devil. Mrs. A. Behns' three Plays will suddenly be printed, viz. The Roundheads. City Heiress, or Sir Timothy Treat-all. Young King, or the Mistake.  
An Italian Voyage, or, a Complete Journey through Italy. In two Parts. With the Characters of the People, and the Description of the chief Towns, Churches, Monasteries, Tombs, Libraries, Palaces, Villas, Gardens, Pictures, Statues and Antiquities. As also, of the Interest, Government, Riches, Force, etc. of all the Princes. With Instructions concerning Travel. By Richard Lassels, Gent. the Second Edition.  
Tho. Brown's New and Easy Method to understand the Roman History, by way of Dialogue, for the use of the Duke of Burgundy. Done out of French with very large Additions.   

To the Right Honourable HENRY Earl of RUMNEY, Master-General of the Ordnance, Lord Warden of the Cinque-Ports, Gentleman of His Majesty's Bed Chamber, and one of the Lords of His Majesty's most Honourable Privy-Council, etc.  
My Lord,  
AN address of this kind, from a Man so idle and unuseful as I am, is at all times unseasonable; to a Person, whom the Wisdom o' the King, and the good Fortune o' the Kingdom, employ in so many great Affairs, as take up your Lordship's hours. But it can never be more out of time, than now; when your Lordship is in sorrow, for the loss of your Brother, the late great Earl of Leicester, who mourns not, that knew him? All that knew him, loved him, if they loved mankind; for, a greater Example of humanity, the World, I believe, has seldom found. All honoured him, that knew him, if they valued Truth and Wisdom: so much good sense sell from him, in his common Conversation, that none conversed with him, but were both Entertained and Improved, if they were capable of it. And, no doubt, many great Men were the greater for his Acquaintance; and thus, tho' in a private Life, he influenced the public: and the whole Kingdom was the better for him. Some survive themselves, and their Understandings die before 'em. His mind retained its wonderful vigour to the last: He was pleasant to all, when years and pains had taken all pleasures from him, but what he found in doing good of his bounty, I have often shared, and so have many more. And, I was always extremely proud of any marks of favour from such an impartial and discerning Judge. I could dwell on so pleasing a subject, as the extraordinary Qualities of this great Nobleman: but since, Providence has taken him from the World, to number up his deserts and virtues were but to set before your Lordship your losses, and the misfortunes of the Kingdom. Now I am entering on another copious subject; what does this Kingdom own your Lordship? you have been in several Reigns, one of the greatest Ornaments of England: but you have of late been one of its fortunate preservers: your Lordship was an eminent Instrument in this Revolution, which has been so happy to England, and the greatest part of Europe. Had not this change been, almost all Europe had been overrun by France; England, for certain, had lost its Rights, Liberties, and Religion, and perhaps, been no more a Kingdom, but a Province to France, a Vassal to Vassals, and for all its Wealth had nothing but a Wafer. What could have stopped that inundation of power, which was rolling on, and swelling as it rolled, deluged many parts of Europe, and threatened all? What could a formidable Fleet and Army, almost innumerable, have asked of a few divided Counsellors, at Whitehall, which they durst have denied? And what a glorious figure does England now make, in comparison of what it did some years ago? It lay one Reign becalmed in Luxury: In another Fettered: In this Reign it has not only freed itself, but humbled France, and protected Germany, Spain, and Holland, and appears one of the greatest Powers in Christendom. How much then is owing to your Lordship, by whose Wisdom, and Courage, this Revolution was contrived and carried on; in a Reign, when the least opposition to unlimited power, was judged an unpardonable Crime? But, I may quit this subject, since what your Lordship has done, will make a noble part of English History. In this Play, I set Tyranny before the Eyes of the World, and the dreadful Consequences of lawless and boundless power. But some would not have the World frighted with such a Figure nor an Image of a Government profaned, which they adore: 'Tis well for 'em, that they worship an unknown God. If their Dwellings and Estates, (if they have any) lay in the reach of a mighty Prince, whose Will is Law, I believe, they would be glad if they were secured from Foreign Invasions, by the English Seas; and from boundless power at home, by English Laws. I have suffered severely, and therefore may be allowed to speak. The Favour, or rather Authority, which a mighty Neighbouring Kingdom, had in our Court some years ago, got my Inheritance, which, tho' it lay in the Deserts of America, would have enabled me (if I could have kept it) to have lived at my ease in these beautiful parts o' the World; the loss of it has made England a Desert to me. No wonder then if I am pleased with the Successes of our Wise and Valiant King, who was born to free and do justice to oppressed mankind: and, I hope, to myself. And now, I doubt not, but your Lordship, who has been so instrumental in preserving and establishing the Liberties of all Englishmen, will also permit a Poet to enjoy Poetic Liberties. I mean, that leave which has been long granted, of addressing to such great Men as your Lordship, for your Favour and Protection●▪ I need Encouragement from others, because I have none from myself. No Man can have a meaner opinion of me, than I have of myself. I am oppressed by myself, I will not say by my modesty, for modesty is a virtue; and modesty and boasting are inconsistent; my fortune has long languished under an unmanly spiritless temper of mind, which makes me rather choose to suffer than give trouble to any: nay, than to seek the favour of those, who take a pleasure in obliging. A Poet may very well hope for Patronage from a Nobleman, who is of the blood of Sir Philip Sidney. And I have found your Lordship ready to assist me: your Lordship addressed to the late Queen of ever-blessed Memory, in my behalf. And, by your intercession, I had a large share of her Princely Bounty: and, no doubt, I should have had more, if England had longer enjoyed her. And now, my Lord, I humbly beg your Lordship's favour, not for this Play, but myself: at least, that I may have leave thus publicly to honour myself, with the Title of,  
My Lord, Your Lordship's Most humble and Most thankful Servant. John Crown.   

THE EPISTLE TO THE READER.  
I Cannot blame the World for any unkindness I receive from it, I seldom make any court to it. And I have so much affected retirement and solitude, that a Writing of mine, like an Inscription on a Wall, at Belshazzar's Feast, comes from an unseen Scribe. And the Judgement passed on Balshazzar, and my Emperor is in some measure the same: Thou art weighed in the balance, and art found too light. Many say, there is more levity in the Character of this Emperor, that suits with the dignity of so great a Prince, and the gravity of Tragedy. But with what does the Emperor sport himself? with the honour of Women, the fortune and lives of Men, and the ruin of Nations. And I thought there was so much good nature among mankind, that Spectators would have trembled, when they saw Kings and Kingdoms, forced to yield up their Rights, Religions, Laws, and Gods, to the Lusts and Frenzies of a young fantastical Tyrant, and all the World at the disposal of a mad Man. But to please, I should have shown a more beautiful figure. So I have in Valerius and many other Characters in this Play. I have also beautified the Emperor's Character, and all parts of the Play, with as much good Sense and Poetry as are in any of my writings: For I will compare myself only with myself. And few of my contemporaries have pleased the World much more than I have done, both in Tragedy and Comedy. But many say, the Play wants Plot; I confess, I think it does. I have put little more into the Play, than what I found taken out of History. All the Characters and most of the Events in the Play, I have taken out of History; and I have made as lively Images, of what I found there, as I believe can be done by any Man. This was unknown, it seems, to a great part of my Audience, therefore they condemned the Character of Vitellius; his flattery to the Emperor and courtship to the Empress: particularly his begging a Sandal of hers, as a reward for his Services, and when he had it, his carrying it in his bosom, and sometimes kissing it. This was a Compliment he made to Messalina, the beloved Lewd Wife of the Emperor Claudius. By his flattery and addresses in the Reigns of three or four bloody Tyrants, he kept himself not only safe and whole; but raised his fortunes to such a height, that his Son Aulus Vitellius, who had not one good quality, came to be Emperor of Rome. I thought most Gentlemen had more skill in History, Poetry, Courtship, and Address to Greatness than I perceive they have. But, I will not farther displease by contending. I confess, I wrote this Play, when I was under great disorder, not in mind. For I never loved much any part of this World, but a Friend, and merit in a Friend or Enemy. I never sought more than the bare conveniencies of life. But want of health makes life itself an inconvenience. I have for some few years been disordered with a Distemper, which seated itself in my head, threatened me with an Epilepsy, and frequently took from me not only all sense, but almost all signs of life, and in my intervals I wrote this Play. Therefore if it have any Wit or Poetry in it, I wonder how they came there. But many of the first rank, both for Quality and Understanding, have said they were pleased with it, and therefore I value it. Now I will say one word in defence of my Morals.  
I cannot but take notice of some lines I have read in the Preface to the Poem called King Authur, where the World is told, that all who have written before the Author of the Mourning-Bride, may be ashamed, since for want of a Genius, they have depended on bawdy for their success on the Stage. I much commend that Gentleman's design of Reforming the Stage from Obcenity, Immorality, and Profaneness; But I wish he had taken more care of his Pen: I mean not in his Poem. I will not quarrel with that, if it gave me cause. In my notes on a Play called the Empress of Morocco (I call 'em mine because above three parts of four were written by me) I gave vent to more ill-nature in me than I will do again. But I am sorry that the Learned Author of King Authur, who labours so commendably for Virtue and Morality in Plays, should set an ill Example, and injure Truth and the Reputation of his Brethren. Many of my Plays have been very successful, and yet clean. Sir Courtly Nice, was as fortunate a Comedy, as has been written in this Age; and Sir Courtly is as nice and clean in his Conversation, as his Diet and Dress. And Surly, though he affects ill manners in every thing else is not guility of obscene talk. I have fallen, (I confess) in other Plays of mine, into a worse fault. I have, in my Jerusalem's, made too beautiful an Image of an Atheist; and Atheism appears too reasonable and lovely. I am sorry there should be any thing under my hand, in defence of such a false, pernicious, and detestable an opinion: Some endeavour to clear me of the guilt, and would persuade the World they were written by a Noble and Excellent Wit, the late E. of R— But they were Printed long before my Lord died; his Lordship in his Poem, called the Sessions of Poets, charges me not with theft, but my Scenes with dulness and want of Wit and Poetry, which he would not have done, if they had been his own. But since there is too much Atheism in those Plays, I am content they should be thought not mine, or not good. I had rather have no Wit, no Being, than employ any part of it against him that gave it.   

ACT the First.  
SCENE the Imperial Palace in ROME.  Enter, at several doors, Valerius Asiaticus, and Annius Minutianus. Val. A. 
MY noble Lord Minutianus,  
I'm glad to see so good a Man alive,  
And wonder at it; for as the times are,  
When any good great Man has a new day,  
He has new life, at least a new reprieve;  
For by the Emperor he's decreed to die.  An. M. 
Indeed, my Lord, every new day to me  
Seems a new pleasing shining Prodigy:  
I lift my eyes with wonder at the Sun,  
Nor look to see him more when day is done;  
And when night comes, I am awhile afraid  
I'm not alive, but in th' Infernal shade.  Val. A. 
Caesar has broke the Fortunes, and the Hearts  
Of half the World; Men are but half alive.  An. M. 
Sometimes your Lordship gives our hearts some hope,  
But then your League with Caesar frightens us.  Val. A. 
Oh! two proud Men to Friendship ne'er incline;  
You may as well two lofty Mountains join.  
If close in League Caesar and I appear,  
It is because you do not see us near.  
So when imperfectly remotely seen,  
Two Mountains on each other seem to lean;  
Approach 'em near, you'll find 'em wondrous wide,  
Interest and Nature do the great divide:  
Pride is a friendless Vice, and foe to Pride.  
I've had success in War, and got renown;  
And Caesar hates all glory but his own.  [Enter Cassius Cheraea viewing himself in a Pocket Looking-glass. 
Why, how now Cassius?  Ca Ch. 
My most noble Lord!  Val. A. 
Examining thy Figure in a Glass?  
That Glass is a dissembler, Cassius.  
Thou wouldst not love it if it told thee truth,  
For then the shadow on that Dial shown,  
Would let thee know thy Sun is going down:  
thou'rt in thy fall, witness thy falling hair,  
Yet thou wouldst pass for young with all the fair.  
Oh! Cassius! thou hast wandered far from Youth,  
And thy young dress tells scandalous untruth.  
That th' art in heart a Hector, who would guests,  
Whilst th' art a wanton Paris in thy dress?  
Paris was not accoutred with such Art,  
Thy habit is a Libel on thy Heart.  An. M. 
Oh! but a Manly daring Soul lurks deep,  
Under this gentle Lady, like outside;  
Which Caesar takes a pleasure to deride.  Val. A. 
Nay, Caesar ought to spare him allow,  
Caesar's grave only in his frowning brow:  
He folds his brow in frowns; had he his will,  
Basilisk like he'd with his aspect kill.  
But this sierce Monarch, in unmanly dress,  
Is oft extravagant to mad excess.  
His Robes, like Crystal waves, around him flow,  
At once his Limbs and Lusts they lewdly show.  
His only cover, in his wild attire,  
Are blazing Gems, which make him seem o' fire.  
His wrists in Bracelets far outshine the Stars;  
You'd think 'em Comets, and fear Plagues and Wars.  An. M. 
Ay, and his Sandals powdered o'er with Gems,  
Exceed in splendour Regal Diadems.  Val. A. 
They are so wondrous soft, and easy too,  
He feels the ground no more than if he flew.  Ca Ch. 
Dresses are Politics of Love; he's wise,  
And steals to hearts of Ladies, through their Eyes.  Val. A. 
Were Cassius led to die, he'd die well dressed,  
To leave a Dart in every Lady's breast;  
And to his death he'd gracefully advance,  
As if he only lead a solemn Dance.  
And loss of life would grieve him less, he'll own,  
Than loss of love; the dead are loved by none.  Ca Ch. 
No, from dead Lovers living beauties fly,  
And soon let all remembrance of 'em die.  
Our Images for years in Marble stay;  
Our Images in Hearts scarce last a day.  Val. A. 
Well Cassius, though you soft and frail appear,  
Cassius is hardy, valiant, and sincere.  
Calm to a Friend, a tempest to a Foe,  
With his hand active, though in speech he's slow.  
He fights as if he had a thousand Lives,  
But for preferment modestly he strives.  
In Court he yields, in danger leads the way;  
Wins, yet can scarce be said to gain the day.  
Of speech he's sparing, liberal of his blood;  
To all, but to himself, he's just and good.  Ca Ch. 
This from your Lordship? I am over-paid  
For all I've done.  Val. A. 
No, there are great Arrears  
Due to thy Fortune, and thy Honour both,  
Injured by Caesar.  Ca Ch. 
I am wounded by him,  
In a more tender part, my Conscience;  
He often forces me, to ruin those  
Whom I am bound in conscience to defend.  
The fortunes, nay, the flesh I'm forced to rend  
Of those, who have no faults, but Wealth or Power;  
And thus myself I torture every hour.  
For all the miseries I impose, I feel;  
And my heart bleeds when guiltless blood I spill.  
Because I faintly act this cruel part,  
Caesar is pleased to say I want a Heart,  
And has my tenderness in great disdain;  
He thinks I'm not a Man, because Humane.  Val. A. 
Nay, Caesar counts humanity a crime:  
Well Cassius, you may have redress in time.  [Several go over the Stage, carrying Robes and Crowns. 
Behold a foolish ostentatious show,  
Of Robes and Crowns, won in the Germane War;  
Not by the Valour of the Emperor,  
He never stoops in Person to subdue,  
He fights by Proxy, as great Princes woo.  
He dares not look on War; a while ago,  
He marched towards War, and made a noise and show,  
Which through the Germane Woods a horror spread;  
The hasty Rhine to Sea more swiftly fled.  
He had two Armies.  Ca Ch. 
No, my Lord, but one.  Val. A. 
Yes, Cassius, I lead gallant Men, and Caesar  
A flying Camp of ranting Concubines,  
Who flamed, and gave a lustre to the day;  
No Meteors were so bright, or hot as they.  Cass. Ch. 
Ay, but my Lord, these falling Stars, 'tis known,  
Though bright aloft, are Jellies when they're down.  Val. A. 
That you have often found; now what became  
Of this Bravado, and attempt on Fame?  
It dwindled to a Farce, and foolish Scene;  
For his Light-Horse, light Concubines I mean,  
With Caesar in their head began to fly,  
On the first News the enemy drew nigh:  
To look on a brave Foe they durst not stay,  
The Germane Trumpets blew 'em all away.  An. M. 
They have some wounds I'm told.  Val. A. 
In Fame they have,  
And scratches which the Quickset Hedges gave.  
Caesar is often prancing, on the Road.  
To War, but long e'er danger is abroad.  
Like a hot early Spring he oft sets forth,  
Not to enrich, adorn, but blast the Earth;  
Whilst sweet young Beauties, in their lovely May,  
Like blossoms round him blow, but far more gay:  
And when approaching dangers rudely threat  
The splendid Prince, he and his buds retreat;  
He wisely keeps in War a Regal State,  
Makes danger from himself at distance wait,  
But with stiff pride enters an empty Town,  
His Troops have won, and assumes their renown.  Ca Ch. 
Second-hand Glory appears somewhat bear.  Val. A. 
Second-hand clothes he may as proudly wear.  
With all their Laurels then a Prince is crowned,  
Who ne'er saw fight, nor felt a noble wound.  
Wounds he has had, but they were all behind,  
For yet his face danger could never find;  
But he'll triumph in Person, o'er the bold,  
For Victories he never durst behold.  
Now in triumphal pomp he enters Rome,  
Leading those chained he durst not overcome.  
And now who dares but in a look betray,  
The least contempt of this illustrious day,  
Sacred to th' honour of th' Imperial Sword,  
And the vast pride of our vainglorious Lord?  An. M. 
You of his pride and vanity complain;  
Oh! would to heaven he were only vain.  
But he has Vices I abhor to name;  
They cover me with everlasting shame.  
His Sisters were all wonderfully fair;  
Part of that beauty I desired to share.  
The youngest than seemed to have every grace;  
Her beauty gave a lustre to her race.  
I humbly begged his leave for an address,  
And angry Heaven cursed me with success.  
I got his Sister, and let that suffice  
To express all the plagues Hell can devise.  
By Heavens, he whored her on the Bridal Night;  
Nay, which is more, he whored her in my sight.  Val. A. 
She was his Sister I may safely swear;  
No race besides affords so lewd a pair.  Enter Vitellius sad and drooping. 
I pity this great Man, in War he's brave,  
In Court he is a cautious fawning slave.  Cas. Ch. 
He views the ground with a dejected eye.  Val. A. 
And with good reason he expects to die.  An. M. 
For what offence? He has ruled Syria well,  
And humbled haughty Kings who durst rebel;  
As Fame reports.  Val. A. 
Court deeps but few can sound;  
Tyrants and Priests in mysteries abound.  
Perhaps their Arts will not the light endure,  
They strike most awe, like Temples, when obscure.  
This sad and thoughtful Hero let's approach,  
Try if his painful wounds will bear the touch.  
My Lord Vitellius, you seem full o' care,  
And out of Asia bring a cloudy air,  
Which weighs your Eyelids down; what should it mean?  
You fortunes has been smiling and serene,  
And yet you sigh as if your heart would break.  Vit. 
My Lord, I'm bruised, I have scarce strength to speak;  
I've had a fall, which makes my Vitals bleed.  
I fell from Heaven.  Val. 
That's a high fall indeed.  Vit. 
From Caesar's favour.  (He bows low.) Val. A. 
Why d'ye bend so low?  Vit. 
To Caesar's Image in my thoughts I bow.  [He always bows when he names Caesar. 
I honour my own thoughts when Caesar's there,  
And when he's named, I reverence the air,  
And lowly towards the awful sound incline;  
The air is then, methinks, a holy shrine.  Val. A. 
Your prudent, courtly temper, I commend,  
But I had rather make proud Monarches bend,  
And with crowned Victims my devotions pay;  
So I would worship Caesar every day,  
And now bring Princes to adore his Throne.  
Caesar's my Prince—  Vit. 
And God.—  Val. A. 
Well, that I own.  
To Caesar I'll not grudge a pompous word;  
And how he pleases he shall be adored.  [Shouts.] Vit. 
These shouts tell joyful news, that Caesar's nigh;  
Oh! I've his glorious person in my eye.  
His glittering Chariot is of beaten Gold;  
But in himself I Nature's pomp behold.  
The bounteous Monarch, as he rides along,  
Rains silver showers on the admiring throng.  Val. A. 
Bribes to the Rabble; that a Prince so proud,  [Aside to An. M. 
Should stoop to purchase flattery from the crowd;  
From all bold Foes, but flatterers, he flies;  
Flattery is a part of his high Luxuries,  
And none can be too fulsome for his taste;  
Thus Wit, and Gold, and Blood, we vainly waste.  An. M. 
Rome pours into the Court a dazzling Crowd,  
With an illustrious stream 'tis overflowed.  
I dare not show myself in Caesar's sight;  
My Lords farewel, may Fortune do you right.  [Ex. Enter Caligula, Cesonia, Attendants, Guards. Val. A. and Vit. retire at a distance. Cass. Ch. mingles with the Guard. Ces. 
Welcome to Rome once more, my Mars, my Jove;  
Welcome from War, to Luxury and Love.  
Well, I am pleased to find they've taken care  
To fill the Palace with a fragrant air.  Cal. 
I have bestowed more odours, on these Rooms,  
Than would, I think, perfume a thousand Tombs.  Ces. 
Sir, why do you name Tombs?  Cal. 
Does it become  
A Heroine, to startle at a Tomb?  Ces. 
Nay, I could dwell with pleasure, on the Graves  
Of Caesar's Foes, or his rebellious Slaves.  
I've a nice Nostril, with rich perfumes fed,  
The least offensive vapour strikes me dead.  
I can endure no sweets but what excel;  
Yet of dead enemies I like the smell.  Cal. 
Well, if dead enemies can entertain,  
Thou hast been gratified this last Campagne.  [Val. comes forwards, and bows low 
What would you have Valerius?  Val. A. 
What you please;  
I am attending, Sir, on your decrees.  Vit. comes forward, bows low, then covers his head and face with his Robe, turns round, then prostrates himself on the ground. Vit. 
Caesar, Victorious, Gracious, Pious, Wife,  
The noblest pleasure of our thoughts and eyes;  
Scourge of the proud, relief of all the oppressed;  
Caesar, of Gods, the greatest and the best.  
At Caesar's feet, I humbly prostrate lie,  
To live his Vassal, or his Victim die.  
But I would live (if that might be allowed)  
To pay those Offerings I've to Caesar vowed;  
Those Divine Honours are to Caesar due,  
The only God that stoops to humane view.  Ces. 
Sir, in no Mortal all perfections dwell,  
They've both been faulty, but they've both done well.  
That Lord in Germany has battles won;  [Pointing to Val. 
This made the Parthian King leave Babylon,  [Pointing to Vit. 
Cross his Euphrates, and his swelling pride,  
To pay those Honours he till then denied,  
Caesar's Divine protection to implore,  
His Eagles, and his Images adore.  Vit. 
Madam, the glory wholly I disclaim,  
To Caesar's Divine Genius be the fame.  Ces. 
Let 'em once more in Caesar's favour rise,  
For all that honour him I highly prise.  Cal. 
Thy Will is irresistible, like Fate;  
What makes me love thee at so mad a rate?  
Live both in the Commands you had before;  
Now is there any thing you would have more?  [Vit. rises and bows low. Vit. 
To kiss your sacred feet we beg your leave.  [Cal. offers his foot with scorn. 
With humble thanks the bounty we receive.  Val. A. 
We must give thanks for such affronts as these;  
And proudly humbling us below our knees.  [Aside. [Both kiss the Emperor's Sandal. Vit. 
Oh! how the World is with an Emperor blessed;  
May I presume to make one more request?  Cal. 
What is it? speak.  Vit. 
The honour, Sir, to kiss  
Th' Empresses Sandal;— but 'tis too much bliss.  
Alas! I am afraid, I've been too bold.  Cal 
Lucius, your Lips are common, I am told;  
Oft to the Sandals of the fair you bend,  
And to your joys from those low Stairs ascend.  Vit. 
Light, Sir, is common, so is vital air,  
And often kiss the Sandals of the fair.  Cal. 
Well Lucius, I am in good humour now,  
And the great honour you have begged bestow.  
Let 'em adore you, Madam, at your feet.  Vit. 
Oh! bounteous Prince!  
Oh! Empress! heavenly sweet.  [He kisses the Empresses Sandal, so does Val. Cal. 
Come, you would try my bounty once again;  
Speak boldly, Man, I'm in the giving vein.  Vit. 
I'd beg the shell of that delicious fruit,  
A Sandal sweetened by that beauteous foot.  Cal. 
Go fetch him one with speed.  [Ex. a Lady. Vit. 
Transporting joy!  
For such a gracious God, who would not die?  [The Lady enters, and giveth Vit. a Sandal. 
Oh! 'twill recall my youth, perfume my breath,  
Restore my health when I am sick to death.  
Nay, when I'm dead, make life in me return;  
I shall, to kiss it, leap out of my Urn.  Cal. 
I once looked round me as I passed along,  
And near me I observed a muttering throng,  
And in their looks saw discontent appear,  
Which grudged my pomp, as if it cost too dear.  
Do not they know, that Caesar cannot brook  
The least offence, but in a word or look?  
They who will live, must not with Caesar strive,  
Or dare to let me know they are alive,  
Till my commands enliven, and inspire,  
And warm their bosoms, like Promethian fire.  
Rome to amazing Insolence is grown;  
No doubt, one spirit runs through all the Town.  
Since Rome has but one proud rebellious Soul,  
Which dares presume my pleasures to control,  
And in my pomp give me a secret check,  
Would to the Gods all Rome had but one Neck,  
That I might cut of millions at a blow;  
Chaerea, fling 'em to my Lions, go.  Cass Ch. 
Whom shall I fling?  Cal. 
The Rogues I named of late;  
I'll silence Villains who presume to prate.  Cass. Ch. 
Sir, on my knees—  Cal. 
I know thou art afraid;  
Fear not the stubborn Rogues, thou shalt have aid.  
Besides they are in Fetters.  Cass. Ch. 
So am I.  
Sir, from armed enemies I would not fly;  
But from obeying such severe commands,  
Humanity and pity bind my hands.  Cal. 
Hast thou humanity, thou fearful slave?  
No, thou art not a Man, because not brave.  Val. A. 
Sir, I have found him brave.  Cal. 
So have not I,  
The Coward dares not see another die;  
When I have forced him to strike off a Head,  
The executed wretch looked not so dead.  
Begun.  [Ex. Cass. Ch. Val. A. 
Forgive me, Sir, if I am bold,  
And the dark thoughts of muttering Rome unfold.  
Sir▪ you engage in Wars, which cost you dear;  
But, Sir, no reasons for those Wars appear.  Cal. 
Must I give reasons, Sir, for my Decrees?  
I may do what I please, with whom I please.  
Perhaps I burn proud Towns, and slaughter Men,  
Only to please my humour, Sir— what then?  
When wild Convulsions divide streams from Springs,  
Roul Hills o'er Hills, the Rabble o'er their King;  
Lift Commonwealths to Realms, sink Realms to States;  
What are all these, but Gambols o' the Fates?  
But to eternal Glory I address  
In all my Wars, with infinite success.  
I, for my Glory, seize on Regal Crowns;  
To make my Glory blaze, burn wealthy Towns.  
The Gods, for Glory, Worlds from Chaos won;  
The Gods, for Glory, kindled up the Sun,  
And set that noble part of Heaven o' fire;  
I'm hourly urged by such Divine desire.  Ces. 
Inglorious Princes are but half alive,  
And want a sense worth all the other five.  Val. A. 
The Prisoners, Sir, whom you have doomed to bleed,  
Have begged of me that I would interceded,  
Sir, with appeals to Heaven, they all declare  
They muttered nothing, but a Loyal Prayer  
For blessings, on your Person, and your Crown,  
And admiration of your great renown.  Cal. 
Am I delighted with a Fool's applause?  
No more, by Jove, than were I praised by Daws.  Val. A. 
Sir, these men's lives are below your regard,  
They've sent Petitions; Sir, shall they be heard?  Cal. 
Ay— Sing 'em.  Val. A. 
Sing 'em? I've no skill in Song;  
I ne'er so idly, Sir, employ my Tongue.  Ces. 
Then were I Caesar, I would have no ear;  
I would no troublesome Petitions hear,  
Unless sung to me with harmonious Airs.  Cal. 
Priests sing, and make an Opera of their Prayers.  Val A. 
Sir, one thing more: I'told by commo  
From empty Bowels many murmurs came.  
The last Campagne trod all our Harvests down;  
And all the Horses, in or near the Town,  
You pressed, to bring th' Imperial Treasures home:  
Therefore the Farmers cannot furnish Rome,  
With what supplies they're able to afford;  
And here our Granaries are all devoured.  
And thus, Sir, by your Wars, you grind Mankind;  
But you will let 'em have no Corn to grind.  Cal. 
Damn 'em, they're overfed; the muttering sounds  
Came from full Bowels; Luxury abounds.  
War destroys Men, but Luxury Mankind;  
At once corrupts the Body, and the Mind.  
And thus, a just revenge poor Brutes receive,  
Who die for Rogues that deserve not to live.  
Rich Knaves will engross Corn, to raise the price;  
And starve Mankind, to feed their avarice.  
For harmless injured Beasts I've some remorse;  
But my chief care is for my favourite Horse.  
That Animal is full of noble fire;  
Go visit him, and how he fares inquire.  [Too Vit. who goes out. Ces. 
Heaven! how we spoil the pleasure o' the day.  Cal. 
'Tis true, my Love; but we will soon be gay.  
The falls of Nations, which fill Cowards with fears,  
Shall but like Water-falls delight our Ears;  
And murmuring Subjects shall, like purling streams,  
But lull us deeper in our pleasing dreams.  [Ex. Omnes.  

ACT II.  Enter Caligula, Cesonia, Guards, and Attendants. Cal. 
W''re deep in Winter, yet methinks the air  
Has an unnatural heat, I cannot bear.  Ces. 
Caesar's swift marches have inflamed his veins;  
He drives with all the spirit that he reigns.  
I wonder not you left me far behind,  
Methoughts your fiery Steeds outran the Wind;  
Winds lost their breath in giving Caesar Chase,  
His speed seemed more a Rapture than a Race.  
When a high Mountain showed him to my Eye,  
I feared some Goddess snatched him to the Sky;  
Then from my seat I oft fell cold and pale,  
Till I beheld him flaming in a Vale,  
Saw his bright Chariot, and his glittering Train,  
Flying like blazing meteors o'er a Plain:  
His dazzling Chariot, though a ponderous mass  
Of solid Gold, scarce bend the tender Grass.  
I'm apt to think there can no prints be found  
Where Caesar drove, his Steeds scarce touched the ground:  
No, Sir, provoked by their own fire and you,  
They ran, raged, foamed; I thought in Clouds you flew.  Cal. 
I love intemperance in all I do.  
All speed to me but drowsy sloth appears,  
I thought I lingered on the Road for years,  
And my dull Horses did not run, but creep;  
I'd have sprung hither at one lofty leap.  
Had I my will, I would range Lands and Seas  
As swift as thought; think and be where I please.  
The very minute I begin my flight,  
I'd pierce all Regions, at a start, like light.  Ces. 
You'd range all Lands, new beauties to subdue;  
For your desires the World has not enough:  
And without toil, you'd give a beauty chase,  
You would but think, think in her embrace.  Cal. 
We call Men constant, when they're dull and tame;  
Thus imperfection gets a noble name.  
I have a heat which never can be cooled;  
A spirit in me which can ne'er be ruled;  
It rages whilst 'tis in my bosom penned,  
Nor can a thousand Beauties give it vent.  
When I am deluging your Arms with bliss,  
You never think me guilty of excess.  
Egypt is not more pleased with flowing Nile;  
But if I rove to others Arms awhile,  
Of my intemperance you complain aloud;  
Though it be but a momentany flood,  
You think you have a dreadful dearth in view;  
Madam, was Caesar only made for you?  Ces. 
Jove had, no doubt, intentions more divine,  
But Caesar will not be a moment mine.  
My heart in Caesar lives, to Caesar grows;  
Therefore I never have an hours repose.  
Repose? His many wander tear my veins,  
And give me wounds which have tormenting pains.  Cal. 
You love an Emperor, that I ll not deny;  
Who, but a Caesar, can your heart supply  
With all the pleasure, wealth, and power it craves?  
Now you have Queens for your Domestic slaves,  
And all delights that nature yields in call;  
Were there more Emp'rors you would love 'em all.  Ces. 
No, Sir, of all Men, Emp'rors would I shun,  
They are mysterious, understood by none.  
But this I know, what are so much above  
All Kings on Earth, 'tis arrogance to love;  
And, to my sorrow, I have found it vain,  
For having all things, all things they disdain.  
Caesar is pleased with beauty, whilst 'tis new,  
And the next hour thinks it not worth his view.  
A while I'm graceful in the Emp'rors' thoughts,  
And the next moment seem all over faults.  
Now I've all beauties, then I've all decays;  
Now sudden starts of joy, then sharp always.  
Now I'm in luxury, and then in tears,  
And always shaken with confounding fears.  Cal. 
Oh! my Cesonia, prithee have a care,  
Impose not on me more than I can bear.  
This Neck is soft, so is not Caesar's Heart;  
This Head and Neck how easily can I part?  
But though in Caesar thou hast no delight,  
To thy fair self thou art a pleasing sight;  
And by all Eyes thou art with wonder seen:  
Oh! I am loath to slain so white a skin.  
'Tis pity so much beauty should be lost,  
Thou wilt not be so lovely when a Ghost.  Ces. 
I find I'm pleasing still in Caesar's Eye,  
And therefore now I'm very loath to die;  
No joys in the most sweet Elysian Grove,  
Can equal the Remains of Caesar's love.  
With pomp and power I am pleased, I own;  
But Caesar far outshines his glorious Throne.  
Were Caesar but my equal, were he lower,  
Had but that graceful person, and no more,  
From all Mankind to Caesar's arms I'd fly,  
And think no Goddess is so blessed as I.  Cal. 
Oh! thou art made exactly to my mind,  
Fair to perfection, fond though I'm unkind.  
Faithful thou art as the severely chaste,  
And yet as Venus' wanton, when embraced.  
I have a thousand Venuses in thee;  
Once more I love thee to a mad degree.  
New beauties for a moment snatch my Eyes,  
And entertain me, whilst they're novelties.  Ces. 
Caesar will oft abandon me I know,  
But one hours' love will rich amends bestow.  
I am luxurious, freely I confess,  
But Caesar, Caesar is my Sovereign bliss.  
From Caesar's Lips divine Ambrosia flows,  
His breath in sweets excels the Syrian Rose;  
And when I have his Arms I think I'm dressed,  
The Queen of Heaven has not so rich a Vest.  
In Caesar's Arms in extafies I lie,  
Like a mad Prophetess, entranced with joy;  
Whilst a God fills me all my spirits fly.  Cal. 
No, my Cesonia, I must do thee right,  
Thy spirit gives a life to my delight;  
A livelier Beauty Caesar ne'er enjoyed,  
Thou hast more life than all thy Sex enjoyed.  Ces. 
Now I'm composed, and fit for great Affairs,  
Your Glory must a while employ my Cares.  Enter Valerius Asiaticus, Lucius Vitellius. 
Oh! come my Lord, tho' in this last Compagne  
You gave us too much reason to complain,  
Your service, for your faults, make great amends;  
And I rank you among the Emp'rors' friends.  Cal. 
thou'rt proud, and therefore I think Caesar's friend,  
Thy haughty heart can to an Emperor bend;  
My powers by Jove and Nature were bestowed,  
By serving me thou servest an Earthly God.  
Senators oft are of ignoble blood,  
And all their powers the Offspring of the Crowd;  
Can thy proud heart endure those Men should reign,  
Whom thou wouldst scarce admit into thy Train?  
Will one so brave, by Cowards be controlled?  
And one so rich, let Bankrupts rule his Gold?  
So Wise to Blockheads for Advice repair,  
In all the great Affairs of Peace and War;  
Depend on the result of empty prate,  
And account Fools the Oracles of State.  Val. A. 
I would not be a slave, to slaves, 'tis true;  
Our Senators are solemn slaves to you.  
If I must serve, on Caesar I'd depend;  
For as the Ladies, who on Queens attend,  
Are by the World Ladies of Honour styled,  
Tho' of their Honour they have been beguiled.  
So, Sir, if Honour can to slaves be due,  
They're slaves of Honour, who are slaves to you.  L. Vit. 
Spoke like a Nobleman, and Man o' sense;  
'Tis an illustrious thing, to serve a Prince  
So great, so glorious, so renowned, so wise,  
What Vassal would not such a glory prize?  Val. A. 
When he has Caesar's favour in pursuit,  
He'll lick the dust beneath the Tyrant's feet.  [Aside. 
Caesar's a God, and Caesar says I'm proud;  
A God knows all the secrets of our blood.  
Therefore, no doubt, I'm ostentatious vain,  
The Characters he gives me I'll maintain;  
I will be proudly faithful to my trust,  
To all Mankind I will be proudly just:  
All danger, Sir, I'll haughtily despise,  
To serve you boldly fight, as boldly advise.  
Your service to your pleasure I'll prefer,  
And boldly stop you, if I think you err.  Cal. 
Stop me?  Val. A. 
By Council, tho' it cost my Head;  
Even by yourself I will not be misled.  Cal. 
Will I be judged, and governed by my slaves?  Val. A. 
I'll judge, and if I can I'll rule your Knaves.  
I'll offer, and I'll suffer no abuse,  
Because I'm proud; pride is of mighty use.  
The affectation of a pompous name,  
Has oft set Wits and Heroes in a flame;  
Volumes, and Buildings, and Dominions wide,  
Are oft the noble Monuments of pride.  Cal. 
Then I'm your lofty Building? Have a care,  
This from no other Man on earth I'd bear.  
Thou rul'st thy Emperor, I know not how;  
More than thou darest demand, I dare bestow,  
Have all a Vassal can from power derive,  
Tho'th'art the boldest proudest Man alive.  Val. A. 
All this I durst not have presumed to crave;  
My thanks I'll on your foes in wounds engrave.  Ces. 
In serving Caesar, rich rewards proceed  
From the mere conscience of the noble deed;  
But yet is Caesar so Divinely good,  
He overpays his Warriors for their blood.  
I'm sure, my Lord, your recompense is great,  [To Val. A. 
You've Rubies for your blood, and Pearls for sweat;  
Y'ave Provinces for all the Fields you've won,  
And Realms for all the Kings you've undone.  L. Vit. 
Higher rewards than these my service meets,  
This Province, Madam,  [He takes out of his bosom the Empresses Sandal. 
'Tis all over sweets.  
Here dwelled a foot, a Wonder of its kind,  
And left a thousand fragrancies behind.  Cal. 
How false are Men, both in their Heads and Hearts;  
And there is falsehood in all Trades and Arts.  
Lawyers deceive their Clients by false Law;  
Priests, by false Gods, keep all the World in awe.  
By their false Tongues such flattering Knaves are raised;  
For their false wit, Scribblers by fools are praised.  
Whores, by false beauty, Venuses appear;  
Hect'ring Faux— braves o'er Cowards, domineer:  
Look round the World, what shall we find sincere?  Ces. 
The Senate, Sir, attend.  Cal. 
Well, let 'em wait.  
How dare you, in my Ear, name what I hate?  
I'll have no Guardians, I'm at Age to reign;  
What my Birth gave, my Courage shall maintain.  
I will endure no Partners in my Throne,  
I ll govern as I please, and rule alone.  
Do not I trample Kings beneath my feet?  
Will Caesar then let his own slaves be great?  
Caesar shall be the only Sovereign Lord,  
And Senate be a vain and useless word;  
And therefore wholly laid aside, ere long,  
Amongst the Rubbish of the Roman Tongue.  Val. A. 
Then will the name of Emperor be low;  
Sir, your Throne stands on golden Columns now,  
On Men who are by Birth and Fortune great;  
Would you be King of Beggars, six you seat  
On a vile Dunghill, on the dirty Crowd?  
This by your friends can never be allowed.  
Sir, your mistakes are your most dangerous foes,  
And for your service I'll yourself oppose,  
And in the face of any danger fly;  
You have not a more faithful friend than I:  
Compared with Caesar's service, how I slight  
Danger and Death, I've often showed in fight.  Ces. 
Cherish him, Caesar.  Cal. 
Well, let quarrels cease;  
thoust a great Genius, both in War and Peace.  
But love not, if thou'rt one of Caesar's friends,  
A Senate; for the very name offends.  
But call 'em in, for they shall quickly know  
I have a farther quarrel with 'em now.  Enter the Consuls and Senate. 
When Caesar by a Triumph honoured Rome,  
How durst you tarry sullenly at home,  
As if my Victories you proudly scorned,  
Or thought 'em curses, and in darkness mourned?  Val. A. 
Who dares reply? for to this raving Prince  
What can be said, that will not give offence?  [Aside. Con. 
The honour, Sir, we humbly did implore  
To fill your Triumphs, to be triumphed o'er,  
To be led Captives; but we beg in vain,  
Our great devotion met your high disdain.  Cal. 
'Tis true, I scorn all honours you bestow,  
And you resent th' affront; ha'! is it so?  Con. 
That were presumptuous arrogance indeed;  
Sir, with united hearts, we've all decreed  
The highest honours—  Cal. 
How? Dare you pretend  
To grant me Honours? Honour must descend.  Con. 
We humbly beg—  Cal. 
You'd beg me for a Fool;  
Beg me to own you have the Sovereign rule:  
By this Decree, you saucily invade  
Imperial Power, Imperial Glory shade.  
Affronts from his own slaves, will Caesar bear;  
Refuse, or grant me Honours, if you dare  Con. 
My errors wrong the Senate I perceive;  
To show our love we humbly beg your leave.  Cal. 
Your love? Mankind is envious vain and proud,  
Love nothing that's above 'em, bad or good.  
You hate a Prince, unless he'll tamely bear  
Partners in power; let Senates have a share.  
Where Laws, and domineering Senate's reign,  
Princes are slaves in purple, slaves in grain;  
Sword bearers to a many-headed Lord,  
I mean the Crowd, and weak upon Record;  
For every Law made by the State, implies,  
That Princes are defective, Senate's wise.  
Such Demi-Kings have half your hearts, no more,  
While they have any share of Sovereign power;  
But if a Prince entirely quits his Throne,  
He's loved by all, because he's feared by none.  
The Votes of Senators, tho' ne'er so great,  
Shall but like Echoes my commands repeat;  
So Forests may advise, and utter Law.  L. Vit. 
The wisest Monarch the Sun ever saw.  Cal. 
Fear me, I care not how I am abhorred,  
Your hearts I'll have; with my Imperial Sword,  
I'll rip 'em from your Breasts, when I think good:  
In short, I'll have your Duty, or your Blood.  
This you all know, and therefore you'll obey;  
Fear is the Parent of all Sovereign sway.  Val. A. 
Sir, with triumphant pomp, to Court they've brought  
Your Image wrought in gold; is that a fault?  Cal. 
My Image may have faults, the Gold has none;  
'Tis th' only faultless thing below the Sun.  Ces. 
No, Caesar, no; if Art has done you right,  
Th' Image is faultless; bring it in my sight.  
If Caesar's graces in the Image shine,  
There is no gold on Earth, so rich, so fine.  
This shining shadow, I would feign behold;  
This constant shadow fixed in solid gold.  Enter Priests in Procession singing, carrying a golden Image of the Emperor, attended by the Consuls and Senate. 

The SONG Sung by the Priests.  

HAIL! Mighty Prince, whose loud renown  
O'er every Region flies;  
On whom with wonder Gods look down,  
And gaze with envious eyes.  
Whom, more than Hell, all Nations fear,  
And more than Heaven obey;  
Who o'r-runs Kingdoms every year,  
With Jove has equal sway:  
Who ruins Realms, enriches Graves,  
Makes mighty Kings of humble Slaves,  
And Slaves of mighty Kings;  
His praise, this great Assembly here,  
With all devotion sings.   

Our bloody Wars are ended;  
The Sword is now  
But worn for show;  
And the stubborn bow unbended.  
Our hours of ease, and leisure,  
We'll give to pomp and pleasure,  
And Songs in praise of Caesar,  
Who War with glory ended.  
The Sword is now  
But worn for show;  
And the stubborn Bow unbended.   

Now Peace gins to heal our wounds,  
And all our wants repair;  
We'll Plough the Seas, and Plough our Grounds,  
And Plough the tempting fair:  
Our lofty towers shall scale the Sky,  
Our Wealth unbounded, like our joy,  
Shall fly more free than air:  
Our Wars are done,  
And the World is won,  
So now farewel to care.    [Ex. am.  

ACT III.  

The SCENE continues.  Enter Valerius Asiaticus, Annius Minutianus. An. M. 
CAESAR triumphs, and is by Rome adored,  
For Battles won by your victorious Sword.  Val. A. 
'Tis true, to triumphs he has small pretence;  
Putskie would you've me proudly out brave my Prince,  
And boast I won those Fields he durst not see?  
This would be fatal saw ciness in me.  
Soldiers in fight their courage should display;  
They have a triumph when they win the day.  
Let them be brave against the bold and great,  
But humble to all those beneath their feet.  An. M. 
A generous thought.  Val. A. 
In most triumphal shows,  
A conquering Coxcomb o'er a beaten crows.  
The fopp'ry in the Hero than appears,  
The Lion's couched, the Ass pricks up his Ears.  
Vain ostentation does too oft enslave,  
The learned, the wise, the mighty, and the brave.  
The Man of Learning, no content can reap  
From all his knowledge, till he spreads the heap,  
And great applause, and admiration gains;  
For that poor chaff, how he will thrash his brains?  
He isin throws before, but then he's eased;  
When he's a public fool he's highly pleased.  
For Fame vain Wits take all their soaring flights;  
For Fame the ostentatious Hero fights;  
For show, with wounds will be embroidered o'er,  
And deeply died in his own purple gore.  An. M. 
Vain ostentation deforms every grace;  
'Tis like a blister in a beauteous face.  Val. A. 
'Tis hard to know, whose brains have wider flaws,  
They who sit rattling chains, and pleating straws;  
Or they who toil, only for vain renown,  
To wear in History a paper Crown.  
Whilst Caesar now, for a design so vain,  
Takes Poets and Historians in his Train;  
How like a Lunatic this Prince appears,  
Pleased because Bells hang jingling at his ears?  
Thus he resolves oblivion to subdue;  
〈◊〉 and the graces of his person too,  
In strong and lively colouring displayed,  
And in bold Images, shall time invade.  
For this are famous Artists kept in pay,  
And Art brings forth dead Caesar's every day;  
You will see all our Gardens and Abodes,  
And Temples crowded with those silent Gods  
And for his likeness, he'll sit brooding long,  
With all the pains that Birds do, to hatch their Young.  An. M. 
Well, this Campaign the Emperor ventured far;  
I think, he marched to the frontier of War.  Val. A. 
Yes, and he bore some little Princes down,  
Whose fall will give no sound to his Renown:  
Their Provinces he might with ease o'errun:  
On my War-Horse I could have leaped o'er one.  An. M. 
Your Lordship is the Pillar of his Throne;  
But, that's a truth Caesar disdains to own.  Val. A. 
I support Caesar? Be not so profane;  
Caesar's a God, to him all aid is vain.  An. M. 
Who can that impious Flattery endure?  
His Father was a mortal Man, I'm sure.  Val. A. 
His Godhead both from Chance and Nature came;  
'Tis a Convention in his Sacred Frame  
Of Divine Atoms; it was not begot,  
'Twas an original and glorious lot.  
Thus his Atheistick flatterers blaspheme,  
Hum'ring their hot-brained Emperor's waking dream.  
Vast fortunes bred the frenzy, I confess;  
Feeble mankind can suffer no excess:  
Fortunes too high, or low, wrack humane thought,  
But fortune only has not been in fault;  
The Empress too, did her assistance join,  
And often gave him Philters in his Wine;  
Then this proud folly first began to Reign,  
Successes turned, and drugs Diseased his Brain.  Enter Cassius Cheraea. Cassius, 
I'd raised thy fortunes by commands,  
But thou hast Enemies, which hold my hands:  
However I'll raise thy Honour, if I can,  
I do not know a more deserving Man.  Cas. Ch. 
In the esteem of such a noble Friend,  
My Lord, I to an envied height ascend;  
The Emperor's pleased to call me Coward, and Fool,  
Because he always finds me soft and cool;  
And always slow in shedding guiltless blood,  
Caesar may give what titles he thinks good.  
I've many faults, but boasting is not one;  
If any thing deserving praise I've done,  
I'm not much pleased to hear it oft proclaimed;  
But yet, methinks, I'm loath to be defamed.  Val. A. 
Oh! my good Lord, I've in this Vessel found  
Excellent Metal, tho' it yields no sound.  
He who seems here, only an Image dressed,  
A piece of fine Court-furniture, at best;  
In War is more than Man.  An. M. 
So I've been told.  Val. A. 
I've seen Barbarians numerous, and bold,  
Fly from this Man, like Locusts from a storm;  
Wonders in War, I've seen him oft perform:  
But of rough Cassius, after a Campaign,  
No marks but in his scars and wounds remain.  
Here all his time on pleasure he bestows;  
He rises late, and rises to repose  
On a soft Couch, where Wine drowns all his care;  
Or on the softer Bosoms o' the fair.  
Where Amorous dalliance, and wanton Play,  
Is all the toil in which he wastes the day.  Cas. Ch. 
My Lord, I love all pleasure nature yields;  
The joys of wanton Beds, and bloody Fields.  
Perhaps your tast'e and mine may not agree;  
Whilst I have Life, I would shake all the Tree:  
I'd have Wine and Women, Music and Renown,  
And thus have all my days go sweetly down:  
I would not let one moment run to waste,  
No, nor go off, with an unpleasant taste.  
Fearful and melancholy minds prepare  
For their last hours by Sacrifice a●● Prayer,  
Contemplate bones and sculls: But I design  
To part with life, over a Glass o'Wine:  
I'll fill my Eyes with beauty, ere they close,  
And Songs shall lull me to my long repose.  Val. A. 
But whilst your time you eagerly bestow  
On the warm side of life, where pleasures grow:  
Men think you not the gallant Man you are,  
That all your Manhood lies among the fair.  An. M. 
So, Caesar thinks, and tramples on his brow,  
But Cassius does not seem to feel the blow;  
But he is to admiration calm and tame;  
And all his anger is a lambent flame.  Cas. Ch. 
Oh! no, my Lord, I feel the heavy blows,  
Nor have I all the patience you suppose;  
'Tis true, I keep my painful Wounds unseen;  
But wounds, when inwardly they bleed gangreen.  
Reason's there are, why I seem patiented now;  
But I, one day, may let the Emperor know.  
I love not to oppress, or be oppressed;  
But every thing is in its season best.  
Man has his hours of sleep, when he's embalmed  
With that soft unguent, and lies all be calmed;  
Trees have their seasons, when you'd think 'em dead,  
But Nature finds a time to lift her head.  
And shortly Cassius may his vigour show,  
And make the World ring, with a dreadful blow,  
Shall settle Regal Diadems; which now  
Totter, on many a trembling Prince's brow;  
But all our bonds writ in Imperial gore.  
That I'm a Man, and Caesar is no more.  An. M. 
This sudden lofty flame has made me sweat;  
Oh! Cassius, worthy of a name so great:  
May'st thou in fame and fortune, far exceed  
The Renowned Cassius, who made Julius bleed.  Val. A. 
Have I not told the Emperor, I'm his Friend,  
That Caesar, against Caesar, I'll defend?  
That, to increase his Empire and Renown,  
By Wars, which I may honourably own:  
I'll in the face of my danger fly?  
And dost thou hope I'll give myself the lie.  
Let Caesar's Life be stolen by base surprise,  
And own myself a Villain in disguise?  
On Faith and Honour I have fixed my foot;  
And for that ground with Caesar I'll dispute.  
Perhaps his favour, nothing can retain,  
In my own favour I'll to death remain.  Cas. Ch. 
Does not your Lordship every moment shed  
Blood, guiltless blood; by guarding Caesar's head.  Val. A. 
He's young and fiery; and has a Brain  
Diseased by drugs, and Knaves the dregs of Men.  
All the corruptions of a Land repair  
To Courts, and fill 'em with unwholesome air:  
A Monarch with great virtue is endued,  
If he appears but moderately good?  
Cassius your wrongs are not to me unknown,  
Nor that all Nations under Caesar grown.  
But I'll to him, and all mankin▪ d be just,  
Prote●● his Person and oppose his Lust.  
I'll 〈◊〉 by Counsel first to stop his course;  
Th●●●●●●●ng, I'll to fair and open force.  
In Caesar's faults, or yours, I'll have no share;  (Beckons to an Officer of the Guard. 
Secure this Tribune, Sir, with utmost care.  An Officer, with a Guard; carry of Cassius Cheraea a Prisoner. An. M. 
My Lord, a noble spirit you display;  
But yet, my Lord; this I must boldly say:  
You feel not Caesar's faults, as thousands do;  
A decent distance they have kept from you.  
They have not yet approached your heart or head;  
Nor seized your fortune, or denied your Bed.  Va. A. 
My Bed!  An. M. 
Your Bed, as mine he oft has done;  
His brutal Lust, has oft my Bed o'er run.  
On remote sires, with small concern we gaze,  
But we all rise when our own dwellings blaze  
Had Caesar and your Wife been kind—  Val. A. 
Been kind.  
No more, I sweat when e'er their names are joined.  An. M. 
You wisely keep her out of Caesar's sight,  
And in safe privacies engross delight:  
You never suffer her to see the Town,  
And thus secure her honour and your own.  Val. A 
My Lord, I'd stab her, if she should presume  
But to look towards, or own she dreamt of Rome?  
Damnation! She's in Court, in this Lewd Court:  
I pray, my Lord, for your own sake retire,  
Of my Domestic troubles take no share,  
You have enough, and more than you can bare  (Exit. An. M. Enter Julia, attended. 
Why, how now, Madam, am I disobeyed?  
What has allured you, from your Sacred shade  
To Rome, where every Vice has open sway;  
Revels and Rages, in sight of day?  Jul. 
My Lord, I'm overjoyed with your Renown;  
Spoil not my pleasure with an angry frown.  
Why do you look with such a threatening brow?  
My Lord, you are not in a battle now.  Val. A. 
I'm in worse danger, as I've cause to fear;  
For you expose my life, and honour here.  
If e'er you come in ravenous Caesar's eye,  
Your beauty I'll be devoured, and I shall die.  Jul. 
I'll guard myself.  Val. A. 
I'll not trust your defence;  
I'll hurry you a hundred Leagues from hence.  
Your Beauty shall not flourish in report;  
I'll furl that banner up, remote from Court.  
Shell I display your tempting white and red,  
And challenge Caesar to invade my Bed;  
Provoke the proud Adulterer to my Couch,  
And be Procurer to my own Reproach?  Jul. 
You have confined me, till I wished to die;  
Th' unborn have as much joy in life, as I.  Val. A. 
Caesar and you I laboured to divide;  
But, shame and ruin, what have I denied?  
I out of love, confined you to a seat,  
I do not think Elezium is so sweet.  
I kept you a Luxurious Court at home;  
You had the pomp, without the crimes o' Rome.  
Had Reason Ruled you, I had pleased your mind,  
But Reason is no part of womankind.  
Your Lusts and Vanities no bounds admit,  
You're moderate in nothing but your Wit.  Jul. 
This picture of our Sex, not much allures;  
Now I'll endeavour to delineate yours,  
Our Follies are akin, but yours are gross,  
And ours from beauty have a pleasing gloss:  
Your Fop is but our Ape, he paints the face,  
And acts our fool without her Charming Grace:  
Both Sexes vex the World with noise, and prate;  
But we confound a street, and you a state,  
Our fools but seldom write; your Sex is stored  
With fools, who will be Coxcombs on Record,  
And their impertinence through ages spread;  
Your scolds in Books wrangle alive, and dead.  
Fight all Women, and most Men, abhor;  
But Women Cowards have wit to keep from War.  
Your mighty Tyrant Lords our beauty rules;  
Your greatest Wits are gulled by Female Fools.  
I've youth, I've youth, and pleasure I'll enjoy,  
But fear me not, my birth and spirit are high,  
Rather than taint my Family I'd die.  Val. A. 
Of Caesar's wickedness I'm most in fear,  
Madam, begun, you're in a mad house here;  
Not where a Lunitick is held in Chains,  
But where a great Imperial Madman Reigns.  
Who tares the World and lays all Nations bare,  
And when he has enjoyed he strips the Fair:  
Of his Lewd love those are Triumphal shows,  
In jovial moods on favourites he bestows.  
The beauteous Empress I have oft by night  
Beheld all naked, like unclouded light,  
Have often seen in wanton postures spread,  
That brazen beauty on a Golden bed.  Jul. 
Whatever you suppose, ere I'd be food  
To brutal Lust, Lions should drink my blood.  Val. A. 
Oh! Madam, you have virtues that he slights,  
And Rapes and Rapines, are his high delights.  
He loves to make all Nature feel his force;  
River's he Ravishes, and turns their course?  
He levels Mountains, Elevates the Vales,  
O'er waves he rides, and over Lands he sails.  
Nay, he builds lofty Palaces on Seas;  
He scorns the Pleasure he can gain with ease:  
I have been hot; but no one should admire  
In a watch Tower to see a blazing fire.  
'Tis kindled up, to lend a needful light  
To Mariners, in dangerous dead of night:  
To tell 'em Land is near, they're cast away,  
Unless they keep aloof to Sea, till day:  
For such kind ends my passion flamed aloft,  
But though my words were harsh, my heart is soft.  
Now I'll not more be troublesomely wise;  
Dwell where thou wilt, with thy own heart advise,  
Study thy pleasures and regard not mine;  
To my own bosom, I'll my fears confine.  
But of my fortunes carve thyself thy share,  
I will lock nothing from thee, but my care.  Jul. 
This generous Love I never can requite;  
In pleasing you, I'll place my chief delight?  
Rome from this moment I renounce, abjure,  
I'll not the memory of Rome endure.  
Nay, in my presence, no one shall presume  
To mention infamous and vicious Rome.  Val. A. 
Oh! if this Town should rightly be portrayed,  
Hell must lend colours, for a dismal shade.  
Climates there are, which burn the natives black,  
And scorching day appears a fiery Lake.  
In a more horrid Climate here we dwell,  
For they are burnt by Heaven, but we by Hell.  
Here bosoms oft flame with incestuous fires,  
And many Sons are Brethren to their Sires,  
Our Emperor has with high-sprung Bastards stored  
A thousand beds, and all his Sisters Whored.  Jul. 
Oh! Monster!  Val. A. 
Stay: He drags thee to his bed,  
And then his fear and envy take my head;  
None whom he fears, will he with life entrust,  
And nothing that he likes escapes his Lust.  Jul. 
My Chariot;— I abhor a Court so Lewd:  
Methinks it has a scent of Lust and Blood,  
And I shall sicken, If I longer stay;  
Therefore this very minute I'll away.  Val. A. 
Canst thou not breath in the same air with Vice?  
Then thou must quit the World; th'u'rt over nice.  
Well, I'll release thee from this dire abode,  
When I've an hour on some affairs bestowed.  
Then I'll along; I hurry thee from hence,  
Only to save thee from lewd violence;  
Not part with beauty I so highly prize,  
But to secure thee to my Arms and Eyes.  [Ex.  

The SCENE a magnificent part of the Palace.  Enter Caligula, Cesonia, Vitellius, Attendants, Guards. Cal. 
I have been building, Madam, since we went.  Ces. 
A palace lofty as the firmament.  
The Rooms with wondrous pleasure I behold.  Cal. 
And mark the doors; the hinges are of gold.  Ces. 
If Artists, Sir, can for the work be found,  
I'd have the doors yield an harmonious sound,  
As all the Heavens do, when e'er they move;  
And make this palace like the seat of Jove.  
Would this were possible to human skill.  Cal. 
What is impossible to Caesar's Will.  Vit. 
No, Caesar's genius exalts every mind,  
Gives a great Soul to Arts of every kind.  Cal. 
How do those Gardens in thy eye appear?  Ces. 
The face of Winter now frowns every where.  Vit. 
Oh! Madam! you're the favourite of a God,  
And charmed all nature, when you came abroad;  
The rugged Winter civilly withdrew,  
And the sweet Spring looked out to gaze on you.  
The Zephyrs played, and threw the clouds away,  
As dancers strip, to be more light and gay.  Ces. 
I would enrich these Gardens, were they mine,  
With Rocks of Diamonds, and Seas of Wine.  
Here tides of Wine should daily ebb and flow;  
The Walks with golden dust, and pearls, I'd strew,  
And then I might suppose, on Stars I trod,  
As it becomes the consort of a God.  Cal. 
Thou shalt have all the Wealth that Nature yields;  
These Gardens shall excel the Elysian Fields,  
Or the Hesperiaen Groves, so famed of Old,  
Where all the Trees bore fruit of solid Gold.  
And will that please thee? Oh! how sits the Wind?  
This golden Grove brings afric to my mind.  
With much impatience, I expect from thence  
An Obelisk of great magnificence.  
A Wonder both for stature and extent;  
I've for this Wonder, a Sea Wonder sent,  
A Ship, which covers half the Sea, and more,  
And with its burden makes the billows roar.  Vit. 
Sir, if the Ocean can the burden bear,  
'Twill very soon be here, the Winds are fair.  Cal. 
They say, that Pyramids are Regal Tombs  
Of mighty Kings, the last Retiring-Rooms.  
This spacious Universe, in War o'ercome,  
And laid in Ruins, shall be Caesar's Tomb.  Ces. 
Be Caesar's Tomb? Let me not see the hour  
When he is entombed.  Cal. 
We will name Tombs no more.  Ces. 
Their powers to me, would Destinies resign,  
Eternal should be Caesar's Life, and mine,  
And all our days be smiling, and serene;  
We would not know what cares, or troubles mean.  Cal. 
Well may we love, I'm sure our souls agree;  
Then may thy life be all serenity.  
And that of pleasure thou may'st have thy fill,  
Command all Caesar's power, all humane skill.  
Now, Love, prepare for Caesar's golden Couch;  
Th' Images smile, with hopes of thy approach.  
They blaze with gold, we burn with hot desire;  
There we shall all appear, nay be o' fire.  Ces. 
Is the Bed new? For I, when I've my choice,  
Let nothing, but my Caesar, touch me twice.  Cal. 
It is all new, and so I think art thou;  
Thou never didst appear so fair as now.  Ces. 
Perhaps from joy, some colour I derive;  
But I have drooping beauties I'd revive.  
By this days trouble, I've contracted soil;  
Therefore, with Caesar's leave, I'd bathe awhile.  
From water then, I'll like a Venus rise,  
And in my Caesar's arms dissolve in joys.  Cal. 
Water a Bath for beauty so Divine?  Ces. 
Water ennobled with the richest Wine,  
Perfumes, and pearls dissolved.  Cal. 
Go bath an hour;  
In pleasure then dissolve an Emperor.  [Ex. Ces. and Ladies. Enter Pastor. 
How now, old splendid Knight? thy days decline,  
But thou resolv'st to make thy evening shine;  
But all the lustre of thy Youth, and Age,  
Has been from Buildings, Train, and Equipage.  
How darest thou have th' ill manners, to abstain  
From War, and Honour, in a Warlike reign?  Pas. 
In Youth I served in War; Sir, now I'm old,  
The relic of a Man.  Cal. 
But wrapped in gold.  
Well, what's your business here?  Pas. 
With Caesar's leave,  
From Caesar's glory pleasure to receive.  
Also to let my gracious Emperor know  
News, which perhaps some pleasure may bestow;  
Th' Egyptian Wonder is arrived at last.  Cal. 
Th' Obelisk? Where?  Pas. 
'Tis of a size so vast,  
That, Sir, it will let nothing else appear;  
And, I may say, 'tis almost ev'rywhere.  
Sir, I believe, no Province is so large  
As the great Ship that brought this monstrous charge.  
I was of late forced, on a small design,  
To send to Egypt a young Son o' mine;  
And in this Ship he found a passage home.  
Sir, a great Nation might have there found room.  Cal. 
I'll see this Vessel, and its monstrous freight;  
I'll go by Sea, prepare my Galleys strait.  
Where is your Son?  Pas. 
Without, Sir.  Cal. 
Call him in.  Enter Lepidus. 
Thou venture to the Sea? no, rather sure,  
Thou hast been polishing thyself awhile,  
In a sweet Bath of Milk, and Wine, and Oil.  
The Sea would frighten one so soft as thou,  
Unless 'twas smother than a Lady's brow.  
Where blew the Wind?  Lep. 
In th' East, where now it blows.  Cas. 
You mean through Flutes and Trumpets, I suppose.  
The Ocean was in peace with every cloud;  
The Winds were only in Wind-Musick loud.  
thoust found at Sea a serene milky way,  
And to those Waters wentest too dance and play,  
As Ladies do to Wells, when weather's gay.  
Oh! thou hadst rather Rome, and all the World,  
Should be confounded, than thy hair uncurled.  
Thou never wouldst expose to rugged air,  
Rings which allure, and Nets which catch the Fair.  Lep. 
Nature, Sir, gave me what I value more,  
A great devotion for my Emperor.  
Sir, in that Ornament lies all my Pride,  
When Caesar pleases, any thing beside:  
I can with infinite delight resign,  
In duty, only I desire to shine.  Cal. 
Well said?  Vit. 
A nobler Youth I have not seen,  
I love you, Sir, our tempers are akin.  Cal. 
The Egyptians highly flamed with zeal of late,  
For Caesar's Glory, does their heat abate.  Lep. 
Caesar—  Vit. 
When Caesar's mentioned by your own,  
Or any Tongue, pray, Sir, bow humbly down.  Lep. 
Egypt with Gods is plentifully stored,  
But, Divine Caesar there is most adored.  (Vit. and Lep. bow when Caesar is named. Vit. 
Yes, Caesar makes a glorious Figure there,  
Therefore that Kingdom greatly I revere;  
And often towards that point of Heaven I bend,  
Which Canopys that happy holy Land.  (Vit. bows toward Egypt. Lep. 
The Alexandrian Jews each moment feel  
Dreadful effects, Sir, of Egyptian zeal.  Cal. 
And they shall quickly feel my fury too;  
And so shall every disobedient Jew.  
Their old dead Priests and Prophets they prefer  
Above a living, new, young Jupiter;  
Caesar I mean.  Lep. 
The Egyptian Jews have sent,  
A noble Agent Learned and Eloquent.  
His Life is Pious, and his Conduct Sage,  
He's called, by some, the Plato of the Age.  Cal. 
Let's see this second Plato—  [Ex. Lep. and Enter Philo. 
Welcome, Sir?  
You are a Learned Philosopher, I'm told.  
Caesar may well admit of your address,  
You have to nature intimate access,  
And are her Minister; you shall be heard,  
For that's a Character deserves regard.  
She is my Benefactress, I must own;  
I had from nature my Imperial Crown.  
Nay, more a Godhead on me she bestows,  
Or so it is my pleasure to suppose.  
And who will plunder me of what I love;  
Thunder may easier be snatched from Jove.  
Your Nation spoils my Images, will you,  
Assault my high Imaginations too?  Phi. 
To such high arrogance who dares ascend?  
Sir, with the Egyptians we only contend:  
We'll not thrust Caesar down, among the low  
Rabble of Gods, to which th' Egyptians bow.  
A Leek in Egypt is a Heavenly Lord;  
Cart loads of Gods their Gardens can afford.  
We'll not mix Caesar with their Herds and Flocks,  
Their Rams and Goats; nor yoke him with an Ox:  
Nor join him with the Monsters of their Nile;  
Nor link him with an Ape, a thing most vile.  
All these are Gods in the Egyptian Creeds;  
And for refusing this our Nation bleeds.  
No Age, no Sex, the Alexandrian spare:  
Our Men they murder, and they force the Fair.  Cal. 
Jove is a Caesar in the World above;  
Caesar is in this lower World a Jove.  
He Thunders oft indeed, and so do I,  
But he keeps always safe within his Sky;  
And, in my Reign, quits not his lofty ground:  
He Thunders now; I do not love that sound—  
Why should I shake when I hear Thunder roar,  
For I've no fear.  Vit. 
Antipathy, no more.  
Lion's are in disorder, when they hear  
A poor Cock crow; yet Lions have no fear.  Cal. 
These foolish qualities in Men and Beasts,  
Are tricks of Nature, and her trifling jests.  
Now will this writing Knave his Prince defame,  
And with unmanly Cowardice blast my name.  
Hue him to pieces Lictors;— hold— not yet.  
How ready blockheads are to ruin Wit?  
Swine shall not root in such a noble Bed,  
Whence fame may spring to me when I'm dead.  Vit. 
What Divine Clemency does Caesar show?  
What say you now? Is he a God or no?  Cal. 
My Galleys I will hasten to the Port,  
And see the wonders that must grace the Court.  Vit. 
A throng of noble Youths the honour craves  
To Row you, Sir, and be your Galley-slaves.  Cal. 
Well, let 'em Row; they'll Row against the stream,  
Men must tug hard if they get my esteem.  Ex. Cal. Vit. 
Attendants, Guards. Enter Lepidus and Salome  Sal. 
My Father lives, my devout prayers are heard,  
Good Angels left their Heaven, to be his Guard.  
The Tidings of your danger reached my ear;  
Ah! what have I endeavoured from tottering fear?  Lep. 
So much it would be cruelty to tell;  
A thousand times she in deep swound fell.  
When sense returned, grief failed not to revive:  
Ah! how she mourned because she was alive?  
And blamed us all, who forced her to retain  
A miserable Life, when you were slain?  
That to deprive her, we unkindly strove,  
Of happy Martyrdom for filial love?  Phi. 
Why wert thou so amazed at this Report?  
Is danger any News in Caesar's Court?  
Thou knewst we to a fiery furnance came,  
This raging Prince is always in a flame.  
Sleep cools not him, disturbed by dreams he burns,  
And when he wakes, his waking dream returns,  
That he's a God: We pity this Disease,  
And worship not for Gods, his Images,  
If th' Images be Gods, we should adore  
The Men that made 'em, they are something more.  
'Tis base born Godhead, which from Man descends,  
If Caesar be a God, as he pretends,  
His Godhead in Creation was displayed,  
He needs no Image but the World he made.  
Well, in the shameful Alexandrian Rape,  
Daughter, you had the happiness to scape;  
But, in this Court thou'rt in a dan'grous place,  
And therefore, always veil thy thoughts and face.  Lep. 
Ay, Madam, here you're in the seat of sin;  
Caesar will force the Fair he cannot win.  Sal. 
Oh! you have filled my heart with chilling fears,  
To fly from him, I'd rush o'er Swords and Spears:  
The Croaks of Ravens, and the Shrieks of Owls,  
All boding sounds threatening departing Souls,  
And to the sick approaching death proclaim;  
Are not so dreadful as this Tyrant's name.  (Ex.   

ACT IU.  
SCENE, a Room in the Court.  Enter Lepidus and Salome. Lep. 
OH! Madam! I was in a dreadful fright;  
Had you appeared in our young Emperor's fight.  Sal. 
Sir, I have no temptations to allure  
So great a Prince, and therefore I'm secure.  Lep. 
Oh! you've all qualities, can be desired;  
You are by all, but by yourself admired.  
You're to a wonder fair, and yet not vain,  
Your innocence and fame have not a stain.  
You're humble tho' of high extraction sprung;  
Devout, and Grave, and Prudent, tho' young.  
Like all your Father's works, your worth is high,  
With great delight perused by every eye.  
Oh! if kind Heaven would grant my heart's request,  
This work should be immortal like the rest.  Sal. 
This Charity I thankfully receive;  
But affairs call me hence, I take my leave.  Lep. 
Affairs? no, Madam, you are too severe;  
Why should not you Angels sometimes appear:  
But, Angel like, you with the Heaven's converse,  
And with poor mortals will have no commerce.  Sal. 
Sir, you oft talk to me of Love,  Lep. 
I do;  
And show Religion in admiring you.  
If o'er my heart your Virtue had no sway,  
Ah! what Celestial Law should I obey?  
What Revelation should not I disdain;  
What miracle to me not showed in vain.  Sal. 
Till joined in faith, our hearts, Sir, must not join;  
Our Laws, which many wonders prove Divine,  
From Foreign Love strictly enclose our race:  
Should I climb o'er those Walls to your embrace,  
And boldly lay all piety aside,  
You would not, Sir, accept me for your Bride,  
For to Religion should I prove untrue,  
You could not hope I would keep faith with you.  
I sin if to your Love I lend an ear,  
Therefore, in generous Charity forbear.  Lep. 
Oh! 'tis the nature of a flame to rove,  
My eyes will in your presence talk of Love.  
My heavy sighs will silently complain,  
And own my secret languish and pain.  Sal. 
Oh! I'm afraid you own your love elsewhere,  
And it will reach your angry Emperor's ear.  
Have you confessed your Love to none.  Lep. 
I have;  
I talk so much of Love, Men think I rave.  
I mention not your name; but fair and young.  
Lovely, and Love, dwell always on my Tongue;  
And these serve me for every reply.  
Some ask where Caesar is— in Love— say I.  
Some ask what new raised Forces we prepare,  
Against the spring;— I answer, young and fair.  
Some, if the Towns, that Caesar took, were strong;  
I answer, wondrous beautiful and young.  Sal. 
Oh! Sir! avoid me, lest I should be won,  
And then you share our fate, and be undone.  
To Caesar's Image we'll not humbly fall;  
And now his fury flames around us all.  
A horror sits on every Jewish brow;  
Our Nation has a frightful aspect now.  
Sir, for my peace, give your Addresses o'er,  
And for your safety never see me more.  Lep. 
Ah! cruel doom! and not to be obeyed;  
Who can live always in a mournful shade?  
Well, tho' your Laws, and you, all hope deny,  
Sweet Maid! I must love on.  Sal. 
Ah! so must 1  [Aside. 
Sir, pray retire, I see my Father near;  
He'll be displeased if he should find you here.  Lep. 
Since you command, I must, and will withdraw;  
But I hope yet, in your dividing Law,  
To find a passage, where our hearts may meet,  
And have delights, as innocent, as sweet.  [Ex. Lep. Sal. at several doors. Enter Caligula, Attendants, Guards. Cal. 
I went for a dead miracle of Art,  
And a fair living Wonder charmed my heart;  
A Divine beauty! she exceeds all praise:  
I sent Vitellius for her, and he stays.  
How dares he let my pleasure be delayed?  
He knows I'm not of patiented metal made.  
'Tis dangerous my appetites to palls,  
Or make 'em await a minute, when they call.  Enter Consuls, and Senators. 
What would you have?  1 Cons. 
Caesar was pleased to send  
His Orders to us, that we should attend.  Cal. 
My Lords, you are all deep in Caesar's debt,  
For Caesar's Wars; and crimes you oft commit.  1 Cons. 
Into Court-mysteries we dare not pry;  
Caesar's Commands are writ (we know not why)  
In Characters, which can be read by none;  
So into faults we fall, to us unknown.  Cal. 
You say my characters cannot be read;  
Our Roman Priests, and Lawyers, earn their Bread  
By turning Laws, and Jupiter's Commands,  
To mystic stuff, no mortal understands.  
Thus they deceive you, yet ne'er repine;  
You are their fools, why should you not be  2 Cons. 
Sir, when your Will you legibly express,  
We to our duty readily address  Cal. 
No; for my Wars, when I exact my due,  
No streams are louder murmurers than you.  
The World is all my own, 'tis all Crown-Land:  
I reign from Heaven to Hell;— perhaps beyond.  
You live on the Estates I'm pleased to lend,  
Yet you'd have me upon your Alms depend.  
You are the Consuls.  1 Con. 
Yes, great Sir, we are.  Cal. 
Those Offices you shall no longer bear  
I'll choose a Consul, that has Youth and Force,  
Spirit and Fire; I'll choose my favourite Horse.  
You're rul'd by Brutes, who are not half so wise;  
How often Fools to Magistracy rise?  
Elephants carry Castles in the East;  
Here towers and Towns often support a Beast.  
You'll honour, only for his noble breed,  
A Blockhead, and why not a noble Steed?  
Our Roman Priests rule every Soul and Purse,  
Yet they've no more Religion than my Horse.  
Begun! begun! the charming beauties won;  
Through all my veins enlivening pleasures run.  
The news! the news!  [Ex. Cons. Sen. and enter Lucius, Vitellius. Vit. 
Sir, ere she was ware,  
We snatched her up, and forced her to a Chair;  
And then she shrieked, and tore her beauteous hair.  Cal. 
I would lose nothing of her, 'tis confessed,  
Except her hair; thou hast brought all the rest.  Vit. 
Yes, Sir.  Cal. 
Go, bring her.  [Enter Julia, forced by a Guard. Jul. 
I'm in Caesar's power;  
I came to Rome in a dark fatal hour.  
Oh! Caesar!  [She knelt. Cal. 
Goddess!— so not doubt you are;  
No mortal can be so divinely fair.  
Nay, nay, at my request, sweet Madam, rise;  
Let all your Graces entertain my eyes:  
To Caesar grant the infinite delight  
To touch, and see a hand so soft and white.  
Were all thy other beauties cheats of Art,  
This hand might palm a passion on my heart.  
Where have you lived?  Jul. 
In Woods remote from hence;  
And, till this hour, in peaceful innocence.  Cal. 
In Woods? there were no shades, whilst you shone there:  
Why would you not at Caesar's Court appear,  
But hid, in a remote and lonely Grove,  
The only perfect Workmanship of Jove?  
I saw you walk by Tibur, all alone,  
In a fair Garden, bordering on my own;  
And in amazing rapture, and transport,  
I sent this Lord to bring you to my Court.  Jul. 
Sir, I am married to a valiant Lord,  
Who has served Caesar nobly with his Sword.  Cal. 
He loves thee not; else he would love to show  
The happiness in thee his Stars bestow:  
For all Mankind are ostentatious, vain;  
And pleasures, when exposed, most entertain.  
Men think their fortunes droop, when they're concealed,  
And pleasure sweetest, when 'tis aired revealed.  
And of my Empire too, he has possessed  
A part, I value above all the rest;  
By Venus, I would rather quit my Throne.  
Madam, I may and will assume my own.  Jul. 
A thousand painful deaths I'll rather choose.  Cal. 
I die a painful death if you refuse.  
Madam, my Time, nay more, my Life you waste;  
Yes, Madam, now 'tis Treason to be chaste.  Jul. 
Sir, for the World I'd not my Honour lose.  Cal. 
Oh! I'm the Fountain whence all Honour flows.  
Yes, Madam; sure you are not to be told,  
Men honour nothing more than Power, and Gold.  
I can make Virtue scorned, and Vice esteemed;  
I can make Hell adored, and Heaven blasphemed.  
Success, Dominion, and the longest Sword,  
Make any Creeds believed, or Gods adored.  Jul. 
Oh! save me! save me! all you Powers above!  Cal. 
I will hear nothing, from that voice, but love.  Jul. 
Assist me, gracious Gods! without delay!  Cal. 
Does she love noise? then let my music play.  [Cal. forces her out; she shrieks, and the Music plays. Vit. follows. Enter at another door Cesonia, looking in a glass. Ces. 
This Bath has cleansed my blood, and made it thin;  
Has revived all the Lilies in my skin,  
The Roses in my cheeks, with such a red  
The blushing morning leaves her watery Bed.  
This way my Caesar went, as I'm informed—  
The door is shut the Castle must be stormed.  (She knocks, Vit. answers within. Vit. 
Who's there?—  Ces. 
Your Empress.  Enter Vitellius. 
I look wondrous well.  [She looks in the Glass. 
Now all my Sex, nay, I myself excel:  
Fresh Roses in my Cheeks now sweetly blow.  
Your Emperor went this way not long ago.  Vit. 
Over that Beauty? Yes, I must confess,  
That has been long his only Paradise.  
There his heart lived, there his Lips often strayed;  
But Caesar now is by new Beauty swayed.  (Aside. 
Madam, your pleasure with your humble slave?  Ces. 
I've business—  Vit. 
With your Glass;— I see you have.  
Well, we have now three Empresses in Town;  
This beauteous Empress here, whose falling Crown,  
Unknown to her, sits loosely on her head;  
One Empress in a Glass, and one i' Bed.  (Aside. Ces. 
I think I never look so clear and fair;  
I'll steal on Caesar, like a shape of air.  Vit. 
Most Sacred Madam, Caesar now retires  
For great affairs, and privacy desires.  Ces. 
From me?  Vit. 
From all the World, for half an hour.  Ces. 
Dare you oppose me? then I've lost my power;  
And some new beauty over Caesar Reigns:  
My blood will start out of my swelling Veins.  Vit. 
Caesar indeed, too often to his cost,  
Injures himself and you; himself the most:  
And your misfortune you have rightly guest.  Ces. 
My heart can never have a moment's rest.  
Why do I loiter whilst my interests bleed?  (She offers to go, (and he interposes. 
Ha! stop me: You are a bold bawd indeed  
Wert thou a flaming Mountain I'd not stay,  
But through thy burning bowels force my way.  Enter Caligula. Cal. 
How now? from whence is this presumptuous noise  
Who dares break in on Caesar's Privacies?  Ces. 
Love is the offender, Sir; Love urged me on  
To stay your heart, ere 'tis for ever gone.  
For I am told, my Interests decline;  
You have found Beauty that charms more than mine.  Cal. 
Come, Madam, you're Luxurious, Haughty, Vain;  
Caesar you love, because you love to Reign.  Ces. 
Caesar I love more than his Glorious Crown;  
And I love Caesar let him smile or frown.  
Aetna did never with more fury burn:  
I love to madness, and as madly mourn.  Cal. 
Oh! you are mad no doubt, for who is not?  
Cowards are mad, they fear they know not what.  
What death is to the living ne'er was shown:  
Life is not more to the unborn unknown.  
The brave are mad, for fame they'll madly die,  
Which after death they hope not to enjoy.  
The Learned are mad, and madly tear their brains  
For knowledge; which not mortal ere attains.  
And what confusion from Learned madness springs,  
Among Religions, Laws, States, Realms, and Kings?  
And yet in Schools, where thoughtful madness Reigns  
The mad are free, and Books are bound in Chains:  
The vicious are all mad, by Laws confined:  
The Virtuous are more mad, themselves they bind:  
And Jove was mad, when he made mad Mankind.  
There's one great flaw runs through the Earth and Sky;  
And every God and Man is mad, but I.  Ces. 
Would I were mad; I should be more at ease,  
And have no sense of all my Miseries.  
New Beauties vanquish Caesar every hour;  
Then how does raging grief my heart devour?  
My heart to Caesar fixed, more torment feels,  
Than if he dragged me at his Chariot wheels.  Cal. 
I love, and hunt variety, 'tis true:  
And does not Mother nature love it too?  
Good Gods! how does she vary humane mould?  
She often makes new faces o' the Old.  
If any have in Life continued long,  
We always say they're Old we do 'em wrong;  
And if we called 'em Young, 'tis but their due,  
Their Shapes and Features are entirely new.  
How oft does nature change us ere we die?  
She loves new faces, then why should not I?  
In chase of change my Nature loves to run,  
Yet to amazement I have doted on.  
Two years and more, I have thy will obeyed;  
Others enjoyed seem in a night decayed.  
They've sprung to Caesar's Bed, young, lovely, gay;  
And I have thought 'em old by break o' day,  
Have thought 'em dead with age: and I've decreed  
To burn 'em or embowel 'em with speed.  
But to thy arms I've been two years confined;  
thou'rt an Enchantress and canst fix the wind,  
Back to its spring canst make a torrent run,  
And stop the fiery Chariot o' the Sun.  
The Beauty only could not have the Power  
To fix my heart: never see Caesar more.  Ces. 
Oh! these eternal Tempests who can bear?  
I'll rather sink into profound despair.  
I'm hourly broken on a golden shore,  
A barren beach could not afflict me more.  
I never in your presence will appear;  
I ll Labour to forget you ever were.  
No Image of you shall my griefs renew:  
And so a long farewell to Love and you.  Cal. 
Come back?  Ces. 
Only to love, and mourn in vain,  
And be a follower, id my Rival's train?  Cal. 
I'll have thee wracked, to make thee own the art,  
Which thus eternally enslaves my heart.  
When any one but thee I've oft embraced,  
Corrupted Water has a sweeter taste.  
But thee I never can abandon long:  
Thy tempting Beauty, and Enchanting Tongue,  
Soon make the wand'ring Gods of Love return;  
And now once more with violence I burn.  Ces. 
Oh! Caesar, Caesar! tempt my heart no more:  
For can I moderately Love, Adore,  
A Prince so Great, so Graceful, so Divine?  
Ah! what do I enjoy whilst Caesar's mine?  
And when I lose his heart, does he believe  
That I can calmly, moderately grieve?  Cal. 
I know in Love my Godhead I exert,  
Therefore I'm loved by thy voluptuous heart.  
Cast from thy mind all jealousy and fear;  
I ll ne'er forsake thee, by my Life I swear.  Ces. 
Your heart no beauty scarce an hour endures  
I could dwell years upon a kiss o' yours.  Cal. 
Thou art a Golden Harp Divinely tuned,  
What Statue would not dance to such a sound?  
Raze from thy memory my sinful hours,  
And all my little vagabond amours;  
They're meteors, and like other vagrants poor,  
Soon waste their fires, and then appear no more.  
Others no more the riots can supply  
Of such an Epicure in Love as I;  
Than a Plebeian fortune can support  
My Guards, my Fleets, my Armies, and my Court.  
But my excursions from thy arms improve  
Thy joys and mine, and make new springs in Love.  
So an Arabian gains by his retreats,  
The livelier sense of his o'recoming sweets.  Ces. 
Cost what it will, to Caesar's arms I'll fly,  
I cannot pay too dear for so much joy.  (She runs to Caesar 's embraces. Cal. 
Oh! Welcome to my arms my Charming Love?  Ces. 
Welcome to mine: my young Illustrious Jove.  
Oh! my excess of Love gluts Caesar's heart.  
If I were wise I'd temperate Love with art;  
But I am too immoderately kind  Cal. 
Have I a temperate and a moderate mind?  
Is Caesar to thy heart no better known?  
Give me extravagant delights or none.  
Moderate delight is but a waking dream:  
And of all pleasures, Love is the supreme.  
And therefore Love immoderate Love deserves:  
Excess o'ercomes, but moderation starves.  
Fear not my wander; for go where I will,  
I'm in my Empresses dominion still.  Ces. 
And tho' he wonders, I love Caesar still.  
Caesar! methinks the name of Caesar charms.  
Caesar I love, tho' in a Rival's arms.  
More in my own embraces, I confess:  
And I will Love to infinite excess.  Cal. 
Love to excess, thou'rt infinitely fair,  
In my delights I can no limits bear.  
But (for what reason never could he known)  
Our joys have bounds, and our desires have none.  (Ex. Cal. Ces. Attendants, Guards. Enter Valerius Asiaticus. Val. A. 
Oh! I have met with News, which makes me flame;  
And every eye upbraids me with my shame.  
My services have met a kind reward:  
The hour I quitted my Domestic Guard,  
The Emperor's Bawds ravished my Wife away;  
And he's devouring now the Luscious prey.  
She comes—  Enter Julia. 
Oh! Julia! what has Caesar done?  Jul. 
Oh! my Lord! leave me to my griefs alone.  
Do not look on me, I'm a hateful sight,  
And long to hid in everlasting night.  
As in my Garden I walked all alone,  
Securely, as I thought, unseen, unknown,  
The Emperor, from an Apartment nigh,  
Often beheld me with a greedy eye,  
And forced me thence.— Let me not tell the rest;  
Oh! thou most wronged of Men, and yet the best.  Val. A. 
New Giants have bound Jove, so he lies still,  
And lets this filthy Tyrant take his fill  
Of Whoredom, Blood, Rapes, Incest, what he will.  
Had Caesar ravished from me all my Lands,  
Bottomless treasures, numberless commands,  
But to thy beauty never had approached,  
Had left me thee unblemished, and untouched;  
My heart is so devoted to thy love,  
I would not have changed happiness with Jove.  Jul. 
Oh! my dear Lord, your wrongs with patience bear,  
Trust not your dangerous passions to the air.  Val. A. 
Revenge, revenge, my love I must pursue,  
The Tyrant with more ease I can subdue.  
And fear him not; for as the lofty Sky,  
And bright full Moon, attract a mad man's eye,  
This gaudy Tyrant's meditations gaze  
On the bright splendours that around him blaze,  
And so to others no regard he pays.  
Like a fierce Panther I will hunt my prey,  
And with his blood wash all my spots away.  
Come, let me lead thee home.  Jul. 
Can you endure  
To touch, or to approach one so impure?  
I hate to touch myself; to draw my breath  
It makes me sick; and I am sick to death.  
For Love I prise, for Love I lose my life;  
I lived your chaste, and die your martyred Wife.  Val. A. 
Oh! Caesar! Caesar! thou shalt feel my Sword;  
Shall is too sluggish, and too faint a word.  
The Tyrant's fallen, on his Neck I tread;  
He's dying by my Sword; nay more, he's dead.  
But can one death for all his crimes atone?  
He breaks thy Laws: Oh! Nature! break thy own  
Let him have many Lives, be often born,  
That he may often be in pieces torn.   

ACT V.  
Enter Julia and her Women. Jul. 
RUN to my Lord, desire his swift return,  
For I've drunk Poison, and I burn, I burn.  Enter Valerius Asiaticus, and Annius Minutianus, 
Oh! my dear Lord! I've done my honour right,  
And Death will soon transport me out o' sight;  
For I am all in a consuming flame,  
I burn with poison, and I burn with shame.  Val. A. 
With poison?  Jul. 
Poison; but I've never been  
With a worse poison tainted, shameful sin.  
Oh! I abhor the thought.  Val. A. 
I've no distrust.  Jul. 
I've been inviolably true, and just.  
No one can have a Soul more clear than I  
From foul desires;— for Caesar's sin I die.  Val. A. 
I do believe thou art as chaste as fair;  
Wound not thy wounded heart, thy griefs I share.  
How much I value thee thou hast not known,  
Because I love thee more than can be shown.  
I, out of love, concealed thee in a shade.  Jul. 
And your Commands I boldly disobeyed,  
And came to Rome.—  [She knelt. 
The fatal fault forgive;  
And, at the least, oh! love me, whilst I live.  Val. A. 
Ay, and for ever; rise, sweet Julia, rise,  
Rise to my arms, thou life of all my joys,  
But a departing life my Julia dies.  Jul. 
Oh! would to Heaven I had died, before  
This shameful violation.— Oh! no more.  
My blushing cheeks glow with a fiery red;  
In thy dear bosom, let me hid my head.  An M. 
How blessed was he, before this heavy wrong,  
In a soft beauty, constant, chaste, and young.  
In this sweet Lady all perfections join;  
I never had a pleasing hour with mine.  Jul. 
When I am dead, strew me all over, I pray,  
With flowers, to show that I was chaste as they.  Val. A. 
As sweet, and lovely too.  Jul. 
They fade, and die,  
When they are rudely touched; and so do I.  
Oh! my blood rises, my cheeks glow again;  
Why should I blush for wicked Caesar's sin?  Val. A. 
The least undecent thought thou canst not bear;  
Thy Virtue, to its self, is too severe.  Jul. 
Oh! see! the Souls of Vestal Virgins come,  
To welcome me, and grace my martyrdom;  
They're all in Robes, whiter than mountain Snow.  Val. A. 
Alas! she raves.  Jul. 
Do you not see 'em?  Val. A. 
No.  Jul. 
Then I perceive, the modest beauties shun  
The sight of men; therefore begun,— begun.  
I shall in triumph to Elysium go;  
'Tis a great honour, Ladies, you bestow.  
Oh! they retire.— Ladies, return again,  
Admit me into your sacred spotless Train.  
I'm chaste as you, tho' not so fair in fame;  
For wicked Tongues, I know, will wrong my Name,  
Throw on my memory undeserved disgrace;  
But your sweet Groves will hid my blushing face.  
Oh! they are going, stay sweet Virgins, stay;  
They're gone! they're gone! you've frighted 'em away.  
And I'm with strangers left I know not where.  Val. A. 
thou'rt in his arms, to whom thou'rt wondrous dear.  Jul. 
Ha! you are Caesar.  Val. A. 
No, sweet Julia, no;  
I'm Caesar's mortal, and eternal foe.  Jul. 
Well, you're a man, and every man I dread.  
— Who's this? my Lord? I knew not what I said.  
In my few moments, that my thoughts should rove  
From him, whom I so dearly, dearly love.  Val. A. 
Lean, lean, my Julia, on my panting breast,  
My love and sorrow cannot be expressed.  Jul. 
I'm going where no wicked Tyrant reigns;  
Preserve my memory  Val. A. 
All thy dear Remains.  Jul. 
Heaven knows how I've been faithful to your Bed?  
I've loved you to my death, shall love when dead.  
Elysium can to me no bliss afford,  
Till in those happy shades I meet my Lord:  
Till then— farewel.—  [She dies. Val. A. 
She's going— she is gone.  
Ah! see, what beastial tyranny has done.  
Her beauty's gone; Death has deflowered her too,  
What I so loved I've not the heart to view.  
Cover her face; forbear a while-those pale  
Departing beauties, Death too long will veil.  
I will have one cold kiss before we part.  (Kisses her. 
Revenge! Revenge! Oh, how it swells my heart?  An. M. 
Be well prepared; Rome loves a vicious Prince,  
All the corrupt will rise in his defence.  Val. A. 
Well, if Rome rises, I will raise it higher,  
For I'll exalt it to the Clouds in fire.  
But 'tis dispirited; and dares not rise;  
And Caesar's scorned by all the brave and wise.  An. M. 
Proud Tyrants who no bounds of law endure  
Are common foes; and never are secure;  
Their lofty Thrones they seldom long enjoy:  
Streif Lions all men labour to destroy.  Val. A. 
Oh, tremble Caesar; prodigies appear,  
Which say, if there be Gods, thy fall is near.  
Prodigious Virtue in this Beauty shone;  
Her Cause and Justice live, tho' she is gone.  
Thy own prodigious Crimes thoust cause to dread;  
Vengeance they'll hurl at thy devoted head.  
Eclipses are thought frightful omens too:  
This sad Eclipse thou may'st with terror view,  
It threats thy life— View it, ye Gods forbidden;  
His frantic Lust would violate the dead.  
Methinks I talk too much in words abound,  
And my Revenge evaporates in sound.  An. M. 
Will you not set the gallant Cassius free?  Val. A. 
And steal by stabs, revenge, and liberty?  
My honour in full splendour I'll maintain,  
I'll by fair War end this inhuman Reign.  
This night, for mine, and universal good,  
The Sun shall set in blood, Imperial blood.  (Ex.  

SCENE, the Court.  Enter Caligula, Vitellius, Guards. Cal. 
Beauty I love, but I hate toilsome Rapes;  
I love good Wine, but would not tread the Grapes.  
The chaste are cold, therefore I hate the chaste;  
Fruits in cold climes have an insipid taste.  
I'm told by Oracles my death is nigh.  Vit. 
Your death!  Cal. 
my death; all I suspect shall die.  
Valerius first shall perish by my Sword;  
He can in battle face his Sovereign Lord.  Vit. 
Nay, he's provoked, and therefore dangerous grown.  Cal. 
Provoked by pride to mount th' Imperial Throne.  
And by Revenge provoked to take my life,  
Because I forced his fair, young virtuous Wife.  
Cassius Cheraea's honest, tho' not bold:  
Valerius has confined him, I am told.  
In the mad Revels of his Rage, no doubt,  
Valerius let some dangerous secrets out,  
Which now he'd lock up in the dark from me:  
But I'll unravel all the Villainy.  Vit. 
The Jews informed, that if they dare deny  
To worship Caesar's Image, they shall die;  
Bey Audience.  Cal. 
Villains— They would not presume  
To slight my Will, had they not found in Rome  
Rebellious spirits: and when they appear,  
A Prince's fall and death are oft too near.  
Nay, a young Roman, I reproved of late,  
For being Wanton, Soft, Effeminate,  
Useless to Caesar and to all mankind  
Except the Fair— has saucily designed  
To wed a Jewess, now in Caesar's Court:  
With Caesar's anger none shall dare to sport.  
I'll reform Rome, and all shall feel my Sword,  
Whose names are written in this black Record,  (He pulls out a Poeket Book. 
Then I'll to Egypt, where I'm most adored.  
Bring in the Jews.  Enter Philo and the Jews. Cal. 
What would you have?—  (To Phi. 
Those carvings there look well—  (To Vit. Phi. 
Permission, Sir—  Cal. 
Permission to Rebel?—  Phi. 
We Sacrifice for Caesar every day.  Cal. 
You Sacrifice for Caesar oft, you say,  
But not to Caesar. How dare you presume  
To give my honour to I don't know whom?  Phi. 
Leave to enjoy those rights we humbly crave,  
Your glorious Ancestor Augustus gave.  Cal. 
What are those rights?  Phi. 
They're by long custom known;  
And all derived by the Imperial Throne.  
The Alexandrians slight our lofty claim;  
And hourly put our dwellings in a flame,  
Plunder our Treasures, seize on all our Lands,  
And often in our blood imbrue their hands.  
The lives of thousands—  Cal. 
Ha! the lives you say?  
Oh! now my Water-works begin to play.  (He runs to the side of the Stage. Phi. 
Audience from Caesar Water works can gain;  
A bleeding Nation humbly begs in vain.  Cal. 
These streams are sweeter murmurers than you:  
Now these apartments let's a moment view.  (He goes to the other side of the Stage.) 
See there Gods ride on Clouds.  Vit. 
Can painting give  
A life to shadows, one would think they live.  Cal. 
You've rights derived from the Imperial Throne?  (To Rhi. 
There I'll have Windows of transparent Stone.  (To Vit. 
Which shall the fury of the Sun allay  
The fiery River of a flaming day,  
Will through those channels coolly, mildly pass:  
Glass windows in hot climes are burning-Glass  
Have you a Patent?— come let it be seen—  Phi. 
Under the Imperial Seal—  Cal. 
Of Heaven you mean;  
For you are the Almighty ' darling choice:  
Your prayers have in Heaven a casting voice.  
And all your Rams which at your Altars die,  
Prove battering Rams, it seems and force the Sky.  
Go; you are cheated fools or saucy cheats:  
And above Caesar raise your vain conceits:  
Throw down the Statues of the World's great Lord,  
Whilst your Imaginations are adored,  
I will put all your Nation to the Sword.  Vit. 
A Glorious Prince!  Phi. 
We patiently resign  
Ourselves to Heavens Will.  Cal. 
And shall to mine.  
You have a Daughter now in Rome, 'tis said,  
Whom a young Roman dares presume to Wed.  Enter Pastor. 
Oh! Pastor, you've a Son, who dares design  
To wed a fair young enemy of mine.  Past. 
I never heard this dreadful News before;  
If Thunder-stricken could I tremble more?  Phi. 
Sir, our unhappy Children I perceive,  
Have wickedly without their Parents leave  
Or knowledge, stolen into a Marriage vow,  
I never knew they Leagued or Loved till now.  Cal. 
On this offence, I'll lay a dreadful fine;  
Which shall be paid, by thy Son's blood or mine.  (To Past. 
Secure the old Knight; and then with speed and care,  
Search for his Son: Conceal him they that dare.  
Philosopher, you'd have your Tribes submit,  
Not to my Will, but to your aspiring Wit.  
Say my pretences to Celestial power,  
Are lofty frolicks of my mind, no more;  
Will you presume to give my pleasure Law?  
I'll be adored to keep the World in awe;  
Ay, and by you; if you dare disobey,  
Your death shall be among my sports to day.  (Ex. Cal. Vit. Guard. Phi. 
We must adore him; if he's disobeyed,  [Pass. lead out a Prisoner. 
We die, for Caesar's sport were Nations made  
By power Celestial, infinitely good,  
For Caesar's Lust to glory, power, and blood?  Enter Lepidus. 
Oh! Sir! you've wronged me; cruelly beguiled  
Your Friend of his beloved and only Child.  Lep. 
Indeed I have not, Sir; I will confess,  
I fought to gain her, but with no success.  
Sir, my addresses she would not receive,  
Or lend an ear to 'em, without your leave;  
And that I sought not, for I feared 'twas vain,  
I know your zeal: But, Sir, did she complain?  Phi. 
I heard the News in Court, and not till now:  
It has reached Caesar's ears, I know not how.  
The Emperor no contempt with ease endures;  
Till you appear, your Father he secures.  
And if from Caesar's fierce Revenge you fly,  
Your aged Father for your fault will die.  (Exit Philo and the Jews, at one door? At another, Enter Salome.) Lep. 
Oh! Lovely Maid! for death I must prepare,  
My sweet commerce with one so wondrous fair,  
Has fallen, it seems, under the envious Eye  
Of some Court-whisperer, and I must die.  Sal. 
This dire event, I always did forebode,  
And lost the pleasure which thy Love bestowed.  
I've loved thee tho' my Love I have not shown,  
More than 'twas fit a modest Maid should own.  Lep. 
Oh! what delightful harmony I hear?  
But I must meet the death, which is too near▪  
For angry Caesar now in Court secures  
My tender Father, and he threatens yours.  
If I abscond they both will die, I fear;  
Therefore, to save 'em both I must appear.  Sal. 
Ah! dreadful News! then thou'rt ensnared indeed,  
Almighty Father of the World with speed  
To this brave pious Youth send secure down;  
For the Religion to his Father shown.  
Let not the World so great a treasure lose;  
But let some other Angel interpose.  Lep. 
Some other Angel? then thou thinkest me one,  
What happiness I lose? I must be gone,  
Methinks I hear my suffering Father groan.  
Farewell, sweet Love—  Sal. 
Farewell? ah! kill word.  
He parts from me to rush on Caesar's Sword  
From loving me my genrous Lover dies.  Lep. 
And yet that Love above my life I prise.  
Ah! Caesar comes? trust me to Heaven's defence,  
But not thy Beauty to this Lustful Prince.  Sal. 
Oh! I had rather be in pieces torn  
By raging Lions, or in Aetna burn.  (Ex. Sal. Enter, at another door, Caligula, Vitellius, Guard. Lep. 
Sir, to redeem my Father, I appear  
Unforced, unfound, and come a Volunteer.  Cal. 
You love a Jewess.  Lep. 
Sir, I do indeed.  
I love her Beauty, Virtue, not her Creed.  
We may accept good Foreign Coin, tho' there  
The Images of Caesar's Foes appear.  Cal. 
Were she worth Love, she would thy Love despise;  
And rather choose a Lover, brave and wise:  
Whose Cheeks are drained of all their blood by wounds,  
But his good Sword with noble blood abounds;  
His locks are gone, old time has cut that Comb,  
But Fame and Wisdom sprout up in the room;  
Then a young fool, whose brains flow all in hair,  
But has no heart, and a wit bald and bare.  Lep. 
This from the most Effeminate Prince alive:  
With thy own Lusts and Vices, Caesar strive.  (aside. Cal. 
Too many worthless Youths now cumber Room,  
Who derive all their honours from the Womb.  
They bask in lustre, which their birth bestows,  
And in the lap of Fortune dully dose.  
To leave their sloth, and take a noble course,  
The Trumpets seem with frequent summons hoarse.  
The grumbling Drums urge 'em to War in vain;  
The Drones have Warlike glory in disdain.  
And from their wealth and ease no more can rise,  
Then from their amber tombs poor lifeless flies.  
Begun; thou'rt an offence to Caesar's eye:  
Go to thy Father and prepare to die.  Lep. 
Myself to death with pleasure I resign,  
Hoping I shall redeem his life with mine.  (Ex. Lep. guarded. Cal. 
Go, let Cheraea speedily be brought.  Vit. 
He's come.  Enter Cassius Cheraea, with a Guard. Cal. 
A Prisoner, Cassius? What's thy fault?  Cas. Ch. 
My Lord, Valerius, who has been my Friend,  
Sir, 'twas my great misfortune to offend.  Cal. 
Confess the truth, save thy own life and mine:  
From his proud heart some dangerous design  
Broke in thy hearing, ere he was ware,  
And then he locked it up from taking air.  Cas. Ch. 
He's close and dark, I believe loyal too;  
I love a Virgin in the dark, 'tis true,  
Not Treason, Sir, with the most lovely face:  
But I've not seen him since his last disgrace.  Cal. 
His nature's visible enough, he's proud;  
He Courts the Senate, purchases the crowd,  
By their assistance to ascend the Throne:  
Power is the Idol of his heart, 'tis known.  
This night the memory of Augustus claims:  
With all Magnificence, and public games,  
I fail not to adorn it, every year:  
And I shall have a great assembly here.  
This Evening my Tragedians represent  
Some of those Fables, Priests of Hell invent.  
Then Rome shall be a Hell and flow in blood,  
A noble Fable for an interlude.  
Cassius, I'll try the metal of thy Sword,  
Thou shalt have the honour to obey thy Lord.  Cas. 
Caesar makes bloody hangmen of his Guard—  
We to a noble Office are preferred.  
When his mind changes (which will be soon,  
For it has more new faces than the Moon,  
And influences more this lower World)  
We, by new hangmen, shall to Hell be hurled.  
My resolutions I have let you know,  
And you embraced 'em; now let's give the blow,  
For which sick trembling Rome in secret longs:  
Let's give her freedom and Revenge her wrongs.  
The Tyrant by our aid, Robs, Burns, Devours:  
Let's put an end to all her guilt and ours.  (Aside to the Guards. Cal. 
Rome has inborn aversions to a Prince:  
And I am warned to stand on my defence  
By Oracles and Dreams— Sleep shuns my eyes;  
I'm angry that I need such poor supplies.  
Time by immortal natures may be spared;  
But from short life to take a third seems hard.  Vit. 
Thanks to the Gods in yonder beauteous Bower.  
You slept of late.  Cal. 
How long?  Vit. 
Almost an hour,  
Ten minutes short: for, Sir, I proudly own,  
I numbered 'em, and then I penned 'em down.  
Whatever Caesar does (a Prince adored  
By half mankind) is worthy of Record.  Cal. 
Then did I dream from Heaven (where I was Crowned)  
Jove spurned me to the Earth; nay, under the ground.  
The Earth then yawned, and with a frightful roar  
Closed o'er my head, and I was seen no more.  
Dark Treason lurks in Rome, I know not where.  
I'm in disorder— Rogues will call it fear,  
And so will impudent Historians too;  
How do they blacken Kings, they never knew?  
Of their own vain imaginations proud  
Into their stories saucily they crowd.  
Their own Reflections, Dreams, and false Conceits;  
So lie with Kings, in the same fine wrought sheets,  
All Rome but I, now with delight abounds:  
Let Music try, with sweet enchanting sounds  
To calm my stormy thoughts, to lull my care.  
Music charmed Hell and all the furies there  [After a short Entertainment of Music and Dancing; Shrieks and tumultuous noises are heard from behind the Scenes. Vit. goes out. 
My Guards! my Guards.  Re-enter Vit. 
How now? does Rome Rebel?  Vit. 
One of your Statues shook and groaned, then fell;  
Th' assembly frighted then, in tumults risen;  
And with blood reigned from Heaven the pavement flows.  Cal. 
For Caesar's danger nature is in pain:  
There is more truth in Marble than in Men.  
The fall of Rome, or Caesar's death is near:  
I'll have the blood of all I've cause to fear.  
Go and prepare for this design to night,  
And we'll to morrow forage in delight.  (Ex. Vit. Cas. 
Now our great work no longer let's retard.  
Strike when I strike.  (Aside to the Guard. 
Sir, I am on the Guard:  (He approaches the Emperor. 
Be pleased to give the Word.  Cal. 
Stay! let me see!—  
Priapus;— that is a fit word for thee.  [Cas. Ch. wounds the Emperor, and the Guard second him. The Emperor falls. Cal. 
Ha! I am murdered! murdered! by my Guard!  Cas. Ch. 
No, no; a murderer meets his just reward.  (The Emperor strives to get up. Cal. 
I'm yet alive  Cas. Ch. 
How many lives hast thou?  
Thou hast a thousand if th'u'rt living now.  (They all wound him again. 
Had we not killed thee, thousands must have died  
By us; as victims to thy bloody pride,  
They could no way, but by thy fall escape:  
'Twas on my innocence a cruel rape.  
Death I expect, and I'll prepare to die:  
Not by the Counsels of Philosophy,  
I will converse with beauty more Divine,  
And be inspired by Love, and Songs, and Wine.  
Myself for death with pleasure I'll compose,  
And give my life an entertaining close.  (Clashing of arms is heard. 
What should this mean? No matter what, away;  
Lest you be cut in pieces if you stay.  (Ex. Cas. and the Guard. Cal. 
I am yet living, and the Villains fly;  
I shall revenge my death before I die.  (He endeavours to rise. Enter Valerius Asiaticus, Annius Minutianus, and their party, driving Soldiers before 'em. Call riseth and staggers. Val. Min. and their party return. Val. A. 
Where is this Ravisher of beauteous Wives,  
Of Virgins, Realms, Religions, Laws, and Lives?  Cal. 
Valerius? then my death was thy design;  
I'm butchered here, by Cowardly Rogues o' thine.  Val. A. 
Cowards I hate, and Cowardly treason scorn,  
I'll keep unstained the Laurels I have worn.  
A brave Revenge I fairly sought and won:  
I've beat thy Guards, and thou art left alone.  
I've given thy dreadful power a dangerous blow:  
Thou and thy lofty Throne both struggle now.  Cal. 
I'm going!— going!— whither— who can tell.  Val. A. 
Wither all Tyrants go; to burning Hell.  Cal. 
I'd rather sink into the Hell I dread,  
Than at a Rascal's foot— thus— lay my head.  (Cal. falls and dies. Val. A. 
So, he is fallen, he who lately trod  
On all mankind, and called himself a God,  
That he was mortal to his cost he found,  
And in his blood now wallows on the ground.  An. M. 
He wished all Rome had but one neck, 'tis said,  
That at one blow he might all Rome behead.  Val. A. 
Ay, but he found too many hands in Town,  
And hands, it seems, as bloody as his own.  
A debauched vicious Prince does often find  
'Tis very dangerous to corrupt mankind.  
'Tis odds, he by his own corruption dies,  
And crimes by crimes justly the Gods chastise.  
For Cassius speedily search all the Town,  
For he has wronged my honour and his own.  
He wrought, no doubt, the Villainy I feared;  
But by his death my honour shall be cleared.  Enter Cesonia, and her Woman. Ces. 
My Caesar murdered! stand away— forbear;  
Now I've lost Caesar, what have I to fear.  
Oh! here's my Caesar, I so Loved, Adored;  
Lord of the World, I'm sure Gesonia's Lord,  
Mangled by Villains, here in blood he lies,  
In his own blood — Caesar, who gave my eyes,  
Ay, and my heart, such infinite delight,  
Is now a mournful, and a dreadful Sight.  
The World to me is all a desert now;  
For a lost Caesar, Gods, revenge bestow.  
Revenge all Princes, by this horrid deed  
All thrones are shaken, and all Princes bleed.  
Revenge two Lovers, here by Villains torn;  
One murdered, and I only live to mourn  
Revenge my Princely Babe, from Caesar sprung,  
It cannot sin, why should it suffer wrong?  
Now the Trees fallen, the little branch will soon  
Decay and whither— Oh! I faint!— I swoon—  Val. A. 
Help her!  Ces. 
Stand off; I've pleasures in my grief  
Except revenge, I desire no relief.  
Take up the precious relics of your Prince:  
Oh! take 'em up, whilst I've remains o' sense.  
Oh! gently! gently! if you be humane,  
His wounds pain me, and he feels all my pain  
For his Cesonia he more dearly Loves,  
Than all the beauties in th' Elysian Groves.  (They take up the Emperor. 
Come, my dead Lord, with thy Cesonia dwell:  
In Love at least, I all my Sex excel.  
Now in the dead, and death are all my joys:  
I'll weep till tears and death have quenched my eyes.  (Ex. Cesonia and her Attendants, with the body of the Emperor. Val. A. 
Unhappy Princess! the worst fault she had.  
Was an excess of Love, for one so bad  
Now bring the sentenced Prisoners in, with speed,  
Whose unjust deaths, the Tyrant had decreed.  Enter Pastor, Lepidus, Philo, and the Jews. 
Your fortunes and freedoms I restore.  
The tyrant's dead, he'll plague the World no more.  Pas. 
The dreadful Emperor dead! good news indeed.  
Oh! to his Vices may no Prince succeed.  Enter Salome, she runs to Lepidus. Sal. 
Oh! my dear Love!  Lep. 
My Love! art thou so near?  
Oh! how durst thou expose thy beauty here?  Sal. 
Ask me no Questions, I am mad with Joy,  
And have not sense to make thee a reply.  
I in distraction came to die with thee,  
Die in thy arms, and find thee safe and free.  Val. A. 
Go, marry; of each other take your fill;  
And now you Jews, go, believe what you will.  Pas. 
Yes, marry, Son; thoust nobly earned my leave.  Lep. 
Oh! with what joy this favour I receive.  Phi. 
Most Gallant Youth, not many minutes since,  
When the keen weapon of a dreadful Prince  
Was on your Father drawn, you stepped between;  
Such an Example we have rarely seen.  
Now shall we turn the edge of Law on you?  
More favour to your piety is due.  
My Daughter, Sir, I to your arms resign.  Lep. 
Oh! my dear Love, thou'rt mine.  Sal. 
And thou art mine.  Val. A. 
The Imperial Throne I can with ease ascend,  
I know no power which can with mine contend:  
But should I reign, the World which thinks me proud  
Will charge me with the Gild of Caesar's blood,  
And say, the horrid Villainy was done  
By my command; that I might mount the throne.  
I'd rather be an honest slave, I swear,  
Than buy the Empire of the world so dear.  
I never yet in crimes employed my Sword:  
When I've the Senate to their right restored,  
And revenged Caesar, as our Laws require;  
I'll to some quiet privacy retire,  
And there disarmed, and all my powers laid down,  
I will be great in nothing but renown,  
And in my solitude till death I'll mourn  
Over my Martyred Julia's sacred Urn.  (Exeunt  
FINIS.   

PROLOGUE:  Spoken by Mr. powel, who Acted the Emperor. 
SO mad a Tyrant's part I act to day,  
That you will think him mad who wrote the Play.  
In Comic humours he takes most delight,  
And yet he rants in Tragedy to night;  
And strives to give diversion for an hour,  
With a young Prince, mad with excess of power.  
He had that mighty power you all desire;  
Power you all love, and labour to acquire,  
Some have desired a French Invasion here  
For under them, they hoped to domineer:  
But, Oh! should France this nobler Realm subdue,  
Every Dragoon would be a Caesar too.  
Poor Rogues, who for three-halfe-pences sell their Lives,  
Would lord it o'er your Lands, yourselves, your Wives.  
What wretched slavery is, we show to day,  
'Tis well you only see it in a Play:  
Thanks to the Brave, who well deserve their pay.  
Some gentle pity we have hopes to move  
By the misfortunes of sweet virtuous Love.  
The nicest Lady need not blush today,  
At least, at what the Women do or say.  
chaste all the beauties are they represent,  
Their loves are Conjugal or Innocent.  
We are young actors; yet we hope to please  
By Acting Love, for love with youth agrees.  
You love the Actors, who have pleased you long;  
But th' Images of Love should all be young.   

EPILOGUE,  Spoken by a Girl. 
SInging in Plays is grown so much in vogue,  
I had some thoughts to sing the Epilogue.  
Since singing such delight to you affords,  
To please you, we'll all turn Canary Birds.  
When I'm a Woman, which will be e'en long,  
No Man, I swear, shall have me for a Song,  
If you'll tempt me, do it with glittering Gold,  
And those enchanting words, To have and hold.  
I'll on those Terms yield to some worthy Man,  
Have me he may, and hold me if he can.  
Well, let me be an Actress I'm content,  
Provided, Gallants, you'll give your consent;  
I mean your generous Encouragement.  
But to the famous Actors you resort,  
Who fled from us to an old Tennis-Court.  
Thither let all the old Gallants repair,  
And toss and racket the fine Beauties there,  
Applaud, admire 'em, and do what they will:  
If you young Sparks, will please sometimes to fill  
And grace our House, with an alluring throng:  
Methinks you should, for most of us are young.  
Tender young plants, most of our Women are;  
Some, it is said, are ripe enough to bear.  
Here's a Spring-Garden which deserves your care.   

Persons Represented.  

Mr. powel, 
Caligula, Emperor of Rome.  Mr. Williams, 
Valerius Asiaticus, General of the Imperial Army in Germany.  Mr. Simpson, 
Annius Minutianus, A noble Roman, Married to one of the Emperor's Sisters.  Mr. Mills, 
Vitellius, Proconsul of Asia.  Mr. Thomas, 
Cassius Cheraea, A Tribune in the Emperor's Guard.   
Pastor, An old Roman Knight,  Mr. Evans, 
Lepidus', Pastor's Son,  Mr. Disney, 
Philo, A Learned Jew, Ambassador from the Egyptian Jews, to the Emperor.   

WOMEN.  Mrs. Knight, 
Cesonia, The emperor's beloved Wife.  Mrs. Temple, 
Julia, A young beauty, Wife to Valerius.  Mrs. Cross, 
Salome, Philo's Daughter.   
Consuls, Senators, Guards, Attendants.    
The SCENE, the Imperial Palace of Rome, the Time, the last ho●● of the Emperor's Life.   

Books lately Printed for Richard Wollington, at the Lute in St. Paul's Churchyard.  
A Mathematical Compendium, or the Description and Use of a new sliding Rule, by which many Useful and Necessary Questions in Arithmetic, Military Orders, Interests, Trigonometry, Planometry, Sterenometry, Geography, Astronomy, Navigation, Fortification, Gunnery, dialing, may be speedily resolved without the help of Pen or Compasses. By William Hunt, Philomath.  
A Discourse upon the Nature and Faculties of Man, in several Essays: With some considerations on the Occurrences of Human Life. By Tim. Nourse Gent.  
Familiar Letters, written by John late Earl of Rochester, to the Honourable Henry Savile Esq and other Persons of Quality, with Love-Letters, written by the late Ingenious Mr. Ottway, and several Letters written by Sir George Ethridge, the late Duke of Buckingham, etc. in two Volumes, each Vol. may be had singly.  
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The Novels, etc. of the late Ingenious Mrs. Behn, Collected into one Vol. viz. Oroonoko, or the Royal Slave. Fair Jilt, or Prince Tarquin. Agnes de Castro, or the force of Generous Love. The Lover's Watch, or the Art of Love. The Lady's Looking-Glass. The Lucky Mistake: And the History of the Nun, or fair Vow-breaker.  
Reflections upon Ancient and Modern Learning. By William Wotton, B. D. Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Earl of Nottingham. The Second Edition, with Large Additions. With a Dissertation upon the Epistles of Phalaris, Themislocles, Socrates, Euripides, etc. and Aesop's Fables, by Dr. Bentley.  
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A General Treatise of the Diseases of Infants and Children, Collected from the most Eminent Practical Authors, by John Pechey, of the College of Physicians.  
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Cocker's Decimal Arithmetic, the Second Edition, very much enlarged, by John Hawkins Schoolmaster at St. George's Church in Southwark.  
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