GLORIANA, OR THE Court of Augustus Caesar.  
Acted at the Theatre-Royal, By Their MAJESTY'S SERVANTS.  
— Quibus haec, sint qualiacunque  
Arridere velim, doliturus si placeant spe  
Deterius nostra.  Hor. Sat. 10. 
By Nat. Lee.  
LONDON, Printed for I. Magnes and R. Bentley, in Russel-street in Covent-Garden, near the Piazza's, Anno Dom. MDCLXXVI.   

To her Grace the DUCHESS OF PORTSMOUTH.  
Madam,  
THere is nothing more difficult, even to the Valiant or the Witty, than making approaches to the Fair: Nay I am confident the most renowned Conqueror, even Alexander himself, if he now lived, would rather stand exposed alone to the javelins of an enraged multitude, than make his Address to a Beauty so powerfully armed as Your Grace. The most lofty Wit that ever constant success and popular applause made confident, would tremble to speak before You: judge then how unfit I am, blasted in my hopes, and pressed in my growth by a most severe if not unjust fortune. 'Tis greatly done to raise the depressed, which makes me apply myself to Your Grace, who as You are the Brightest, are likewise the Noblest Object in the World; You enliven, like the Sun, with Universal Influence, which induces me to hope that a Beam from Your Grace may reach,  
The Humblest of Your Servants, Nat. Lee.   

PROLOGUE TO THE Court of Augustus Caesar. Spoken by Mrs. Roch.  
HE whose attempt is shown this Night to please,  
Beheld me entering and my arm did seize,  
Cried, Madam, stay, stay but one minute more;  
But I your Servant left him at the door.  
How dear, and yet how dreadful is the Night,  
That makes a Poet, or undoes him quite?  
Such is the Night when a kindhearted Maid  
Becomes a Sacrifice to Bridal-bed:  
She fears to give what yet she wishes past,  
Cries fie, no, and drives it to the last.  
If to be brought o'th' Stage so much can fright,  
What Devil makes you all so mad to write?  
But hold, let me consider,—  
Wit which was formerly but Recreation,  
Is now become the Business of the Nation;  
Prentices write Lampoons, your justices  
Have quirks for Courtiers late debaucheries,  
And Constables with quibbles break the peace.  
Your formal Citizen turns man of sense,  
And has to Ingenuity pretence:  
Treats Miss in Box, which was but Punk with you,  
Gripes her crazed knee, and treads upon her toe,  
And cries, I' fack my dear this Play will do.  
With Beard precise his Verdict dares pronounce  
Who by predestination is a Dunce:  
All will be censuring a man that writes,  
And praise or damn him like a man that fights.  
With boldness therefore both should be inspired,  
The Stou● and Witty should alike be fired  
Poets, like men of Courage, that begin,  
Should still push forward when they're entered in,  
Till certain of Applause they write with ease,  
And with just forces are resolved to please:  
The little Wits of course will then obey,  
And briskly swear the fashionable way,  
To all that those insipidly can say:  
So a young sharpset Bully—  
With famine pinched, and much much given to think,  
Who thirsts for fame, but thirsts much more for drink,  
Resolves to perish or enhance his Name,  
And gives not o'er till he proves Cock o'th' Game;  
Then he who lately seemed like Winter bare,  
Comes forth like Summer loosely clad and clear;  
He drives the Squires with breath of Pantaloons,  
And the least word he speaks is Blood and wounds.   

The Names of the Persons.  
Augustus' Caesar. 
Mr. Mohun.  Caesario. 
Mr. Hart.  Marcellus. 
Mr. Kenaston.  Tiberius. 
Mr. Lydall.  Agrippa. 
Mr. Cartwrite.  Maecenas. 
Mr. Griffon.  Ovid. 
Mr. Clerk.  Leander. 
Mr. powel.  Araspes. 
Mr. Harri●.  Gloriana. 
Mrs. Martial.  Julia. 
Mrs. james.  Narcissa. 
Mrs. Corbet.   
The SCENE, The Palace of Augustus Caesar.   

GLORIANA, OR The Court of Augustus Caesar.  

ACT. I.  

Scaen. I.  A Banquet. Enter Augustus, Agrippa, Maecenas, Ovid following with Music, and sings while the Emperor sits melancholy. 

Song.  
LEt Business no longer usurp your High mind,  
But to Dalliance give way, and to Pleasure be kind;  
Let Business to morrow, to morrow employ,  
But to day the short Blessing let's closely enjoy:  
Let's frolic below, till they hear us above;  
To Caesar we'll sing, to Caesar and Jove.   

2.  
From Business we'll ramble, like Bridegroom's unbrac'd●  
And surfeit on Pleasure, which others but taste:  
We'll laugh till we weep on the breasts of the Fair,  
And the Tears that we shed, shall the Trespass repair.  
We'll vow that below we but Act those above,  
Who never repent, yet are always in Love.   Ou. 
Vast are the Glories, Caesar, thou hast won,  
To make whose Triumphs up, the World's undone:  
The Indians from the Eastern parts remote,  
To thee the Treasure of their Shrines devote:  
Whol● Trees of Coral, which they dived for low,  
That in the walks of Neptun●s Palace grow,  
With Tritons trumpeting on every bough;  
Pearls which the mourning eyes of Thetis pay,  
When her cooled Lover bolts through waves away;  
And Diamonds that the Sun each morning sheds,  
Driving his Chariot o'er their sooty heads●  Me. 
The Scythians from their Northern Climate come,  
And in their Waggon-houses pensive roam;  
For thee they seek: 'Tis at thy Name they shake,  
And far off prostrate Adorations make.  
They who the great Pellaean Victor's Arms  
Repelled, seem Thunderstruckk at thy alarms.  Agr. 
The Parthians dreading Caesar, Peace proclaim,  
Whose haughty minds no Force could ever tame,  
Who the renowned Mark Anthony o'ercome.  
And Crassus, who like some large Oak had stood  
The brush of warring winds, and showers of blood,  
His Army round him like an under-wood;  
These Martial Rangers root and branches tore,  
And on their Crests his trickling heartstrings wore.  Ou. 
The World should stretch to hold an Emperor  
So tall in Virtue, and so wide in Power.  
Where e'er on Nature's peaceful face he treads,  
Her foremost rank of Sons submit their heads;  
With smiles they all his Godlike walkings greet,  
While Crowns and Sceptres play about his feet.  Aug. 
Cease this unwelcome noise; I say, give o'er,  
Ye must not speak since I can hear no more:  
Take wing like Angels, fly to heavens' abodes,  
Though ye have tongues might charm the ears of Gods:  
They please not me, for I am discord all,  
Broke by my own that triumph in my fall.  
Barns and Outhouses, or some rotten Hold,  
Please the dark Birds better than rooms of Gold.  
Why tell ye me of circumvested pride,  
Of Purpled Fame, and thousand cares beside?  
Give me but one or two soft happy hours,  
And all the greatnesses of State be yours.  Mec. 
What lifted troubles your high thoughts molest,  
And shake the frame of your Majestic breast?  Ou. 
If some portentous darkness at Noonday,  
Should o'er the Heaven deep dreadful blacks display,  
Without offence to Altars we might come,  
To know the cause of such a horrid gloom.  
'Tis Loyal kindness urges our desire;  
Speak, Caesar, lest we sin while we inquire.  Mec. 
So huge and dark your Sorrow's Chaos grows,  
No glimmering streak of Joy can interpose.  Ou. 
Your mighty care no interval allows,  
All muse, starts, and sad contracted brows;  
Your Spirit like old Night, ere Day was made,  
Is one substantial darkness, solid shade.  Agr. 
Last night as at your feet I waking lay,  
Viewing the Golden Taper's watchful Ray,  
I heard you deeds with horror wrapped unfold,  
Sad Sacred things, and never to be told.  
I saw you armed from your tossed Bed arise,  
Awful as jove, called by a Virgin's cries,  
Starts with his Thunder to the curtained Skies:  
Honour you cried, then stalked about the Room,  
Thrice called, Scribonia curse upon thy womb;  
Cutting the Air you made three empty blows,  
And then lay down seeking with groans repose.  Mec. 
Even now strong sighs your Royal fabric tear,  
And with their violent course torment the Air:  
Slow from your eyes conflicting sorrows pass,  
And you in vain the struggling tears suppress.  Aug. 
O my loved Friends, 'tis a harsh truth; but stay,  
It will not out till Tears have smoothed its way;  
Take it in one worst word, my actions stain,  
The Canker of my Laurels Valour's bane;  
Of all great evil julia be the name,  
Who from the womb of cursed Scribonia came;  
Blushing in War I got the wanton brood,  
The scum of boiling Youth, froth of my blood!  Agr. 
Some busy person with officious tongue, Ovid goes out.  
Has offered to th' Imperial Princess wrong.  
Your choice Marcellus dearly she approves,  
And whom you have adopted, highly loves:  
But being boundless born, and marked for sway,  
Cannot by passion checked nice rules obey.  Mec. 
Vainly her thoughts they guests by outward form;  
She may be Calm within, without a Storm:  
Her heart from common view removed lies deep,  
As Mines of Gold in Nature's bosom sleep.  Aug. 
Rightly her virtue by a Mine you lay,  
Where every lusty Slave may hew his way.  
I know from those that would not forge, she is  
Loose, vain, a mocker of our Deities.  
Now by yon Heaven she has my fury raised,  
And he's my Foe by whom she dares be praised.  
A Mine! of what? she is all counterfeit,  
I've weighed her in the balance, found her light;  
But from my heart the glittering dross I'll tear,  
Like glass to dust I'll pound the brittle fair,  
Then blow her to her Element the Air.  Enter Julia attended. jul. 
That Roof's too low, and all the Figures old,  
I'll have it new wrought up in fretted Gold;  
Nor shall those Doric Pillars long remain,  
But the vast Ceiling shall itself sustain.  Aug. 
Not Venus in the proudest Robes she wear'st,  
With thousand Crowns and Trains of dragging Stars,  
Thoughts so high flown, e'er knew, nor e'er could stretch  
Expanded pride like this ambitious wretch.  jul. 
Caesar to jove may claim the second place,  
But I with juno will have equal grace,  
And when she dares match for the better face.  
Henceforth I'll have all first unmixed, entire,  
My Meats prepared with Elemental fire;  
The Palace walks with common feet are worn,  
Raise flying Gardens on vast Columns born,  
So near to Heaven, that scorning Tiber's wave,  
In Crystal Buckets we the Clouds may lave,  
To wash the pendant Soil; so strange to view,  
It shall Semiramis famed Groves outdo.  Aug. 
Be Judges both, and then my wrath forgive,  
Just Livia! But 'tis past, she shall not live.  jul. 
Methinks already I am walking there,  
Tread the fringed Banks, and breathe the Vernal air,  
And Purple clusters round my Temples shine,  
And flowery mantling Amarant divine,  
And Sense grows wanton as the lusty Vine.  
Now cloyed methinks with the mellifluous Grove,  
From Sunny Meads, to cool recess I move,  
With tall young men that make immortal love.  Aug. 
Since 'tis well known how kind you are to Sense,  
Why should you talk of a removal hence?  
heavens' feasts too thin for your quaint Palate are,  
We talk of Nectar, but how comes it there? scornfully.  
Provoking Banquets, rich Ambrosial Meat,  
When Clouds they drink indeed, and Air they eat?  
Let not your fancy from its Sphere be driven,  
You'll never like the slender fare of Heaven.  jul. 
Mistake me not, 'tis for variety  
That I Elysium's Argent Fields would see:  
Think you that from your Throne I would remove,  
To be the gaudiest Starry Queen above?  
'Twas not my purpose, Sir, to tarry there,  
I'd only go to Heaven to take the air.  Aug. 
Come thourt not fit to live.  jul. 
Dread Father, why?  Aug. 
Thou art all ill.  jul. 
Then I'm not fit to die.  
Death will the hopes of virtue's growth prevent,  
But if you grant me life, I may repent.  Aug. 
I here pronounce her Stranger to my blood;  
Stay not revenge that must not be withstood.  Agrippa and Maecenas hold him. 
Did not Virginius his Daughter call  
To death, and did she not the voice extol?  
She kissed his feet, and blessed him in her fall.  
Brutus' his Sons gave up to angry power,  
And with stern visage said, They are no more.  
These were just Victims to the shrines of Fame,  
And got their Authors an Eternal name.  Agr. 
Great Princess kneel, and his swollen rage atone.  jul. 
To ask him pardon, were a crime to own.  Aug. 
No, in her obstinacy let her sink,  
My curse pursue thee to th' Infernal brink;  
To Hell, to Hell I'll drive thy spotted soul,  
Where in Eternal tortures she shall roll,  
Turn round, and shriek with pain in livid fires;  
And when for ease the weary wretch aspires  
To those bright Thrones which she did once blaspheme,  
To a new Hell Heaven shall the Fiend condemn.  
From beds of Flames where thou didst lie and roar,  
Whirlwinds shall bear thee hot all reeking o'er,  
And sweating drops of blood, and round thee blow,  
Then plunge thee in th' Abyss of Ice and Snow.  jul. 
All that is Earth of me is in your hand,  
But, Sir, my Spirit's not at your command.  
I have a Soul that when my body dies,  
Shall mix with the immortal Deities.  
Nor can the awful puff of Caesar's name,  
Blow out this spark of the aetherial flame:  
Spite of the clouds your fury's Tempest wears,  
I'll up and scorn your anger from the Stars.  Aug. 
She's all o'er woman— Abstract of her kind,  
And all the Sex is crowded in one mind:  
Her very Thoughts—  
Are woman in the bud, though yet unblown,  
But all her words are pregnant woman grown.  jul. 
Why was I destined to be born above,  
By Midwife Honour to the light conveyed,  
Fame's Darling, the bright Infant of high love,  
Crowned and in Empire's golden Cradle laid?  
Rocked by the hands of Empresses, that yield  
Their Sceptres formed to Rattles for my hand,  
Born to the wealth of the green floating Field,  
And the rich dust of all the yellow Land.  
And why did Fate so vast a Dowry give,  
As renders me a Consort fit for jove,  
Unless she meant that I should loosely live,  
And free from cares below, as Gods above?  Aug. 
Quench, quench, y' immortal powers! these homebred jars,  
Though all the Earth revolt, and wage fresh Wars:  
Raise from the dead Mark-Anthony again,  
Once more let's try our fortunes on the Main.  
To Egypt back let all her Spoils be brought,  
And let 'em with fresh blood, more wounds be bought:  
Lean Cassius, Godlike Brutus, rise, combine,  
Nay with the Memphian black Armada join;  
Dip (even your heels) all o'er in Stygian Lake,  
And more than Achilaean hardness take;  
Hire all the winds, immortal as ye are,  
Again to Actium I your Ghosts will dare,  
And into Atoms drive the gathered Air.  Agr. 
Stop not the Torrent of his rising rage,  
Give it full course and it will soon assuage.  Aug. 
Thus Pyrrhus whom no manly force could quell,  
At last inglorious, by a woman fell.  
O jupiter! dread King of Heaven and Rome, kneels.  
Let death, but not dishonour, be my doom;  
That Julia's name no more may cleave my head,  
Strike me for ever deaf, deaf as the dead.  
O julia! but for thee my fame had passed,  
Showed like a Crystal Rock to Ages last;  
Each lust of thine like an envenomed dart,  
Has drunk the life-blood of thy Father's heart.  jul. 
That I am innocent—  Aug. 
I know thou art;  
But make no words on't: go, with life depart. Ex. jul.  Agr. 
Your Wars in Spain a glorious period have  
And all applaud Marcellus as most brave,  
Who in his first essay your Foes o'erthrew,  
And could such wonders in his Nonage do.  Mec. 
Equal to him the valiant brave unknown  
Plangus so famed rushed through all hazards on;  
Of birth unknown, but of high blood in War,  
Who with Marcellus did the Triumph share:  
Marcellus who adopted Caesar stands,  
And under you the conquered Earth commands.  Agr. 
Fame loudly speaks the deeds which he has done,  
First shows the Father, and then draws the Son.  Aug. 
Even he has guilty been, and as 'tis said,  
Caesario whom we thought in Egypt dead,  
This brave Marcellus harboured in his Tent;  
Such news was to my Empress Livia sent.  
But once more by my Father's soul I swear,  
If that young King of Kings in Rome appear,  
The Parthian Empire shall not save his head,  
I'll give ten thousand Talents for him dead.  Mec. 
Dispel those clouds that thicken on your brow,  
And I will speak.  Aug. 
Full freedom we allow.  Mec. 
Against Caesario be not thus severe,  
At least not openly your wrath declare:  
By private Instruments his hopes abate,  
Which more agrees with your own rules of State.  Agr. 
'Tis noised (for sure such secrets cannot sleep)  
That you in private Gloriana keep,  
Th' Illustrious Pompey's Daughter; I advise,  
That your white Age would Beauty's gloss despise.  
Let not the Nations blame you being old,  
Nor think of loving now your blood is cold.  Aug. 
Furies! and Hell! I am become their sport:  
They flout me— How! ye elder slaves o'th' Court,  
Come feel my arms, and learn to be more bold;  
Am I not fit to love? Ha! am I old?  
Ye Apes of fame, ye Sparks to my full day!  
Ye Gnats that in my Evening glory play!  
But with my Sword I'll punish your offence, lays his hand on his Sword.  
And make ye know what 'tis t'affront a Prince.  Agr. 
Our deaths are in your hands, act as you please.  Mec. 
Your frowns not death our souls with terror seize.  Aug. 
No, ye regard me not, nor love, nor fear;  
I know your hearts;— you wish Caesario here,  
Here,— in my Throne, ungrateful as ye are,  
By me preferred in Peace, advanced in War.  Agr. 
You are the best of Kings.  Aug. 
No, I'm the worst,  
Stupid, morose, tyrannical, accursed.  
ay, like old Saturn, must forgo my Sphere,  
You're for a mad young fiery jupiter.  
Yet this remember in your thunderers reign,  
The Golden days will never come again. Exeunt.    

ACT. II.  

SCENE, Palace Hall.  Caesario, Araspes, Leander. Caes. 
Proscribed!  Aras. 
So rumour spreads it.  Caes. 
Ha!  Aras. 
'Tis true;  
His fears the old Proscription now renew.  
Great is the man, he said, that brings him dead,  
I'll give ten thousand Talents for his head.  
Such dreadful noise from Caesar's fury broke,  
And guilt like Wildfire thrilled him as he spoke.  Lea. 
He thought you long ago in Egypt slain,  
But with late tremblings heard you lived again:  
Then tore his hair, and mad with choler, said,  
Augustus lives not till Caesario's dead.  Caes. 
Then Caesar's lost, and shall in Chaos lie;  
Since 'tis not to be thought that I should die,  
Immediate from the loins of julius sprung,  
Like Hercules from jove, for ever young,  
In battles big as Mars, and full as strong.  Aras. 
Yet you're a man.  Caes. 
Said you of me? 'Twas poor:  
A man! Araspes, I was always more.  
When me in Swadling-bands the Nurses rocked,  
My soul was full with Godlike courage stocked;  
The sounds which first my wondrous voice did move,  
Were Father julius, and Grandsire jove:  
Even in my Childhood I was more than man,  
Bears in my Nonage slew, and Stags outran.  
Leander, thou remember'st who are old,  
When yet nine Winters I had scarcely told,  
A half starved Lion in our chase I braved,  
And from his jaws my panting Mother saved.  Lea. 
I saw him by your early valour fall.  Caes. 
Fall!— by my valour!— saw him! is that all?  
Thou speak'st, Leander, as thou didst repine;  
Thou shouldst have said, it was an act Divine,  
A Godlike act, to see a ruddy Boy  
Wieh milk on's lips, the Royal beast destroy.  
With my gay Sword, brandished above my Crest,  
O'erspread with Plumes, and with Queen's favours dressed,  
I crossed the Savage, eager for his prey,  
Who daunted with my aspect shunned the fray:  
But I outrun him, though he got the start,  
And fleshed my little Rapier in his heart.  
By the dread Thunderer, from whom I came,  
Whose hand casts forked bolts, and leaping flame,  
I'll tumble headlong this Usurper down,  
And from his head tear the Imperial Crown.  Aras. 
Stay, Son of Caesar, whither would you run?  
Sorrow shall end what your blind wrath begun.  
Forgive me if your death I dare prevent,  
And force your courage take another bent.  Lea. 
Both you shall send to everlasting rest,  
And ride to ruin o'er this Loyal breast:  
For think not we can stay to see you die;  
We'll usher you to immortality.  
Let wit contrive, and leisure give to Time,  
While we instruct you this steep Throne to climb.  Caes. 
Plots are the dark and back way to a Throne,  
Miss but one step, we roll with ruin down:  
Then let's away to quell with open strife  
This base Usurper that proscribes my life.  Lea. 
Perhaps the rumour's false, your rage subdue,  
Or reek it here on us for being true.  Caes. 
Was I for this in Alexandria famed  
The King of Kings, and Heir o'th' World proclaimed;  
While Vassal Princes did about me crowd,  
And Asia's Chiefs of my commands grew proud!  
Did not our Mother perish by his Arms,  
That source of Love and ever-flowing charms,  
Great Cleopatra, who now drowns the Stars,  
And shows to Goddesses her glorious Scars!  
Yet have I questioned him for what was done?  Lea. 
We know you ne'er molested what he won.  Caes. 
Nay have I not of late his Foes o'erthrown;  
His Standards fixed i'th' heart of stubborn Spain,  
And bowed her neck to the old yoke again!  
And dares he thus my services reward! draws.  
Stand back, I'll kill him midst of all his Guard:  
Though at the Altar in the Capitol,  
The purple Brute a Sacrifice shall fall.  Marcellus meets him. Mar. 
What prodigal of life your wrath has raised,  
And fanned the flame with which your cheeks are blazed?  
ne'er did I see that Seabbard empty made,  
But drunken Slaughter hung upon the Blade.  Caes. 
Blood! my Marcellus, blood! the great must die!  
Yet Eaglelike I'll strike my Quarry high,  
And from the earth rebound him to the sky.  Mar. 
Name me the man too lavish of his tongue,  
For blows could ne'er the brave Caesario wrong:  
Name him aloud, but name me one that's Great!  
Backed with such Troops as never knew defeat!  
And if he 'scape, let me no more be thought— draws.  Caes. 
Hold, hold Marcellus: Heaven! I had forgot  
That my great Foe is father to my Friend;  
Down, my Revenge: Thus all my swellings end. sheaths his Sword.  Mar. 
What means this change?  Caes. 
Nothing, Marcellus, now.  
Large are the sums I to your friendship owe:  
My thoughts no more about Revenge debate,  
Though slaves Augustus hires to work my fate;  
Takes all my Titles, Sceptres, fills my Thrones,  
And plunders me of all my Father's Crowns:  
Yet being kind to you, long may he live,  
While I learn patience, and my wrongs forgive.  Mar. 
How! my united powers of Rage disband;  
My Sword at Caesar's name falls from my hand.  
O my Caesario, can you for my sake  
Forget the sweets of just Revenge to take?  
Can you for me call back your sallying soul,  
Whose wrath not Caesar's Guards could else control?  
This is a point too subtle for mankind,  
And which no future virtue e'er shall find.  Caes. 
Believe me, Friend, believe me, for I swear  
By my high Father's soul, 'twere easier far  
Back the revolted Universe to win,  
Than but our passions conquest to begin.  
Revenge and Friendship in my bosom clashed,  
Like Mountain billows, each the other dashed;  
Still my uncertain soul each Tempest blinds,  
Like a dark Vessel driven by Polar winds:  
But you like a propitious God arise,  
On the blue Ocean shine the Azure Skies,  
And now the beaten mind at Anchor lies.  Mar. 
Methinks I wish that I had never known  
Virtue like yours; so high, that mine is none:  
You as some vast Hill touching Heaven appear;  
I at your feet like a poor Valley near:  
Down from your Cloudy top refreshings flow,  
Fast bounteous rills that water me below:  
Valleys; but Vapours can to Heaven return,  
And I with sighs your falling favours mourn.  Caes. 
Darling of Romans, virtue's fairest Child,  
At whose blessed Birth the kinder Planets smiled,  
Trust me thy Mother, when with Infant charms  
The Matrons gave thee crying to her arms,  
Not loved thee more; my soul thou hast subdued,  
And damned the torrent of my rising blood.  Mar. 
Bow, ye bright dwellers, bow all your heavens' down,  
Impale his brows with an Immortal Crown;  
Thou julius whose high name in living Gold  
Is in Fate's Book above the Sun's enroled,  
With Starry Robes the World's great Heir enfold:  
For all Earth's Glories he transcends as far,  
As Gods above their humblest Victims are.  Caes. 
Even while thou flatterest me, thou lovely art;  
By Heaven young man thou hast thy Soldiers heart;  
And while I hold thee to my faithful breast,  
Caesar with Empire is not half so blessed.  
On thy hearts throbs so I triumphant ride,  
Farewell Ovations and the Victor's pride;  
No more shall big Ambition bend my brow,  
Love me but ever as thou lov'st me now.  Enter Narcissa. Nar. 
Swift as chased Hearts before the Hunter's fly,  
Swift as their panting weariness they throw  
Into some stream, my dearest Brother, I  
Run to thy breast, and melt in tears that flow.  
Dost thou not view joys peeping from my eyes?  
The Casement's opened wide to gaze on thee;  
As Rome's glad Citizens to windows rise,  
When they some young Triumpher fain would see.  Mar. 
Dearest Narcissa, softest of thy kind,  
A thousand thousand welcomes; but alas,  
In dangerous Courts I much lament to find  
Thy Innocence which cannot safely pass.  Caes. 
She is the brightest that my eyes e'er saw,  
And if soft passion could my fierceness move,  
That Spring-complexion would my wonder draw,  
Such unmixed sweets of Nature I should love.  Mar. 
With looks untaught thou wilt too rude appear,  
Exposed to every haughty Princess scorn;  
Back to thy Country Palaces repair,  
And tempt not Courts for which thou wert not born.  
The Great ones here will quickly make thee fine,  
And to thy Virtue for refreshings run;  
Like Summer days too hot our Beauty's shine,  
But thee they'll follow like a Winter Sun.  Caes. 
Why, beauteous Virgin, dost thou plant thy eyes  
As thou wouldst drive me hence who ne'er could run?  
I am not used to beauty's batteries,  
Yet rather than offend I will be gone.  Mar. 
No longer in my arms, loved Sister, stay,  
Your kindest thanks to my preserver pay;  
A thousand deaths he in my cause has braved,  
And twice my life in our last battle saved.  Enter Tiberius to Marcellus, they embrace. Mar. 
Welcome, my gallant Friend;— Thy looks are sad:  
If there be aught wherewith thou art dismayed,  
Speak it, though at the News both should expire;  
Is julia—  Tib. 
'Twere convenient you'd retire;  
I'll tell you, dear Marcellus, as we go,  
Such secrets as no heart but yours should know. Exeunt.  Nar. 
My Brother charged me; but what can I say,  
When you all power of speech have ta'en away?  
My heart beat thus, just thus against my side,  
That cruel day when my loved Turtle died.  Caes. 
A heart like mine Love in his walk ne'er found,  
Nor Prettiness, nor Majesty can wound;  
'Tis sure the coldest Beauty ever felt,  
Not Ice, but Crystal, which no Sun can melt.  Nar. 
O fatal sight! have I with frequent scorn  
Seen at my Garden-gates great Princes mourn,  
And can I now submit to one unknown?  
Can this be true? Poor heart, art thou o'erthrown?  
Vanquished at last? i'th' name of goodness speak,  
What art that dost my gentle quiet break?  Caes. 
A Soldier, Fair one, bred to blood, in Arms,  
In Winter Camps which mighty Action warms;  
I know not Courts, unskilled in the soft Trade  
By which address is to high Beauty made:  
Yet I to yours can bow as lowly down,  
As Eastern Princes to the rising Sun.  Nar. 
Bow to my beauty, to this Rural face?  
I know no charms, nor any practised grace:  
Planted far off by Caesar's jealous care,  
Not bred in Court perfumes, but Country air.  
Me from his daughter he divided young,  
And told me Courts my innocence would wrong:  
But sure my eyes can nothing see in you  
To make me think what Caesar said was true.  Enter Maecenas. Mec. 
Madam, the Empress does your coming wait,  
With half the Court attending at her gate;  
And gazing eyes expect your presence there,  
As if some Constellation would appear.  Caes. 
I'll wait you to the Empress:— Tyrant Love,  
Whom all the charms of Nature cannot move. Exeunt.  Re-enter Marcellus, Tiberius. Mar. 
Since Love proves false, in vain does Valour toil,  
To ashes turn my Arms, my every Spoil,  
Burn all my Laurels in one Funeral Pile.  
Alas, Tiberius, had another said  
julia is false, and honour has betrayed,  
I could not have believed; but thou art true,  
Would thou wert not; would all that Hell e'er knew  
Of darkest mischiefs harboured in thy mind,  
So by thy fraud I might her Virtue find.  Tib. 
While you abroad fought in Rome's cause so well,  
She to the lowest, lewdest courses fell;  
Her Palaces with late debauches rung,  
stripped Eunuchs wanton Odes before her sung:  
On tall young Monarch's shoulders lifted high  
She acted Triumphs, Io was her cry,  
Her crowned Supporters Io did reply.  Mar. 
lose julia! what strong philters did unman  
Augustus from whose loins thy Spirit ran!  Tib. 
At midnight dressed like Venus, all Divine,  
I saw her by the blaze of Diamonds shine,  
High on a Throne of Gold, with Godlike port,  
Followed with clamours of the reeling Court.  
Thrice she the doors of janus' Temple burst,  
And once Jove's house the Capitol she forced;  
From his Gold Statue polished Thunder took,  
And at his face the brandished weapon shook:  
In her left hand the Silver Lightning clashed,  
Which blindly hurled the Sacred windows dashed.  Mar. 
Love I conjure thee, though with mortal smart,  
Draw back thy Arrows that infect my heart.  Tib. 
Of all the Sceptered throng that did adore  
She none refused, but wished they had been more.  
What was in private acted we but think,  
Where all her Maids are mutes, and Eunuchs winks.  
Her Monarch dalliance was not proved, but guessed,  
But Love to Wit did open all her breast,  
And she so foul a knot with Ovid drew,  
As blood can never lose, nor death undo.  Mar. 
With Ovid! Dares his haughty muse aspire  
To practise on his Prince? I'll mount it higher,  
Teach his rude wit a flight she never had,  
And send her Post to the Elysian shade.  Tib. 
One solemn Night, when the pale conscious Moon  
Rode high and clear, at melancholy Noon  
I rose, with Dreams abashed of true event,  
And to the Princess Bower my muse bent.  
To the crowned Arbours as I nearer drew,  
Methought I heard two voices that I knew;  
Parting the Leaves, I saw by Lunar light  
Love's guilty joys, a sinful pleasing sight;  
On Flowers and all the sweets of Nature spread,  
In Ovid's arms the smiling Princess laid.  Mar. 
What mortal patience can the news abide!  Tib. 
Power circling Wit, and Pleasure pressing Pride,  
Her glowing breast joined to his kindling side.  
She catched his sighs that panted in their flight,  
With eyes, hands, lips, all trembling with delight;  
Long did her naked beauty stay my sight.  
Fair as the blushing bed her body pressed,  
As a May-morning rising from the East,  
Or day dismounting in the golden West.  Mar. 
Wheels, Stones, and all the subtlest pains of Hell,  
With burnings reddest plagues about 'em dwell.  
About 'em! In 'em, through 'em let 'em run,  
And flames with flames involved be swallowed down.  Tib. 
With tenderest words her busy love she graced,  
And having kindly touched his yielding waist,  
She said, Ah would Marcellus were in Heaven,  
And would Corinna were to Ovid given;  
For Wit to me is more than Empire's charms,  
Or all the surfeits of a Monarch's arms.  Mar. 
No more, thou'st put my soul upon the rack;  
Both lives revenging glory bids me take:  
But the remains of passion bid me spare  
This beautiful ingrate perfidious fair;  
Since he was ne'er with gallant ardour moved,  
That could be urged to harm what once he loved:  
And how I loved, how wonderfully well,  
None but the Author of my flame can tell.  
Thy beauty, julia, did my reason blind;  
For e'er our hands unlucky Hymen joined,  
I guessed thee false, yet swore I would be kind.  Enter Ovid with Julia reading. jul. 
Such a companion ne'er did julia bless;  
To have a menial Monarch wait were less:  
Ovid, whose fame above high Virgil grows,  
Whose labour sure must Nature discompose,  
But Ovid with familiar greatness flows;  
And when he pleases to command our eyes,  
What charming Tales does his soft muse devise?  Ou. 
Thus to be graced by her whom all admire,  
To gain whose love Gods would, Kings do expire,—  Mar. 
Amongst the rest fall thou a Sacrifice,  
Thus to be offered to your Goddess eyes.  jul. 
Marcellus, hold! fly, Ovid, hast away.  Ou. 
Madam, I know what duty I should pay;  
The Prince resolves to take my life, which none  
Shall do without the hazard of their own.  Mar. 
Tiberius, give me way, by Heaven he dies,  
I'll tread upon the worm which I despise.  jul. 
Help: Treason! Murder! help.  Enter Caesario. Ou. 
Come all, for were ye more ay could not fear.  Caes. 
What about one is all this trouble here?  
Put up, for shame, I'll blow him from your sight,  
Valour disdains the Quarry in her flight,  
Commands in Fields we should our Standards raise,  
And make this Writer but our drudge to praise.  Enter Augustus, Agrippa, Maecenas, and Guards. Aug. 
Where are the Authors of this Treason gone?  
Traitors to power! disarm 'em every one.  (The Captain of the Guards takes Marcellus, Ovid's, and Tiberius' Swords; goes last to Caesario.) Caes. 
Captain, stand off, I did no cause afford  
Of quarrel here, and will not yield my Sword.  Aug. 
What, a new Traitor? in my presence too?  
Know obstinate thy death thou dost pursue.  
Resign, or die.—  Mar. 
Have you so soon forgot  
The wonders which his Sword so lately wrought?  
The noble Plangus who preserved your Son,  
And three pitched Battles by his valour won.  Aug. 
What shall he stand and brave me to my face?  
Refuse my orders? bid him take my place.  
By the Caesarian Majesty adored,  
He is a Traitor that denies his Sword.  Caes. 
I say, my Sword's my own, and shall—  Aug. 
So fond of fate!  
Then that thou mayst not want for Arms, take that.  (Hurles his Dagger at him, the Guards rush on Caesario, and hold him.) Mar. 
Thus! is it thus his Services you pay? kneels.  Aug. 
If thou wouldst have him live, take him away.  Mar. 
Guards, force him hence.  Caes. 
Yes, Caesar, I will go,  
Conquering myself, I quell thy mightiest foe. Exit.  Aug. 
And you, Sir, you who durst your weapon draw,  
Against that Prince whom I ordain to awe  
The greatest Kings, to banishment be gone,  
I'll teach your saucy Muse to dare a Throne.  Ou. 
If I in thought to you less reverence gave,  
Than what the Deities from Altars have;  
If that the Royal julia I adore  
In other manner than we worship Power,  
Add to the punishment that you have laid  
Unjustly on me, and pronounce me dead.  jul. 
O Caesar! Father's!  Aug. 
Dare not intercede;  
Speak but another word and he shall bleed.  Ou. 
For ever then thou glorious Rome farewell:  
To the Earth's limits, Caesar, I will go,  
Where if thou hast a yet unconquered Foe,  
My Sword, for I have fought, shall take his head,  
And with my Pen I'll damn him when he's dead. Exit.  Aug. 
Still homebred jars! But I these feuds will end;  
By Heaven I'll break your hearts if you'll not bend.  
My Hydra Rebels vanquished, rise up more,  
Was ever Monarch thus perplexed before?  
O that Pythagoras his dream were true!  
I would not govern such a cursed crew  
One moment longer; Now, even now I'd die,  
And into some more Kingly Lion fly,  
Where with full Empire I the Woods might sway,  
And all the Nobler Beasts my Laws obeys. Exeunt.    

ACT. III.  

SCENE 1. The Palace Garden.  Caesario, Araspes, Leander. Caes. 
BY all the Trophies of the Conquered Field,  
By every vanquished Sword, and battered Shield,  
He dies, though the Auxiliar Fates should stand  
To fence the lifted forces of my hand;  
Though bulwarked with Rome's Hills in towers of Brass,  
Yet like Laocoon's Lance my Sword shall pass  
Through all:— By Heaven to Hell he shall be thrown,  
His Universal mightiness shall down.  Aras. 
Your ruin must inevitable be.  Caes. 
It matters not what shall become of me.  
Though all the Winds from their black corners rush,  
Though Seas dash Clouds, old Rocks young Thunder crush,  
Exempt from fear th' event we will attend,  
And with big rays in Ports of Glory end.  
If I must fall, I'll tumble with a Crown,  
And grasp this Giant with me when I drown.  Lea. 
But, Royal Sir, can you your Friend forget?  
Can an abuse so vast, a wrong so great  
Be offered, that your Vows you should recall?  Caes. 
Smoak, vanish air!— be they forgotten all.  
No, dear Marcellus, you must pardon me;  
A stroke! a stab! 'tis such an injury,  
Were jove in flesh and thundered with a blow,  
I would retort it like a God below.  Aras. 
ere ruin swallows you take one look more,  
While yet you stand upon the beaten shore.  Lea. 
Yet ere you launch behold the rolling deep,  
Where danger groans, and death itself does weep.  Caes. 
Hence with thy Coward counsels! fly to Caves!  
I'll climb these towering dangers bark the waves:  
And as I ride to the kicked Floods I'll cry,  
Bear Caesar with his Father's fortune high.  
Why do ye ask me then, and vainly mourn?  
Can words move death, or Time careering turn?  
Can human eloquence the Stars control,  
Or when their doom has damned it, save a Soul?  
Pray to descending Storms, or mounting Fire;  
Them ye may weary, me ye shall not tire.  Aras. 
Since than no prayers can your wild fury tame,  
The way least dangerous to Revenge we'll name;  
Though Caesar from heavens' partial hand receive  
Immediate power, small virtue she did give.  Lea. 
When fierce Ambassadors from Parthia's King  
Showed their huge Bows, and did long Arrows bring,  
He to their threats in scornful answer laughed;  
Yet this great Scorffer shrinks at Cupid's shaft:  
Still may his glutted hands more Empire have,  
So he continue Love's inglorious slave.  Caes. 
What is his Mightiness by Beauty awed?  
Is this th' Augustus so renowned abroad,  
The World's first man, and new created God?  
The bright Narcissa with her Spring of charms,  
'Tis true, has warmed my heart half froze in Arms;  
Her melting language struck my Winter back,  
Loosened my Nerves, and made my heartstrings slack:  
Yet were it possible that she could weep  
As long as I have practised toilsome War,  
She should not in her Lap my Honour keep,  
Nor from its Trade my burning spirit bar.  
When Conquest calls my Sword to fetch the prize,  
And I stand listening to a Lady's cries,  
Sighing to see the Roses pale,— O heaven!  
O glorious War! let me be ne'er forgiven.  Aras. 
There is a Bower, the mystic seat of Love,  
Where death stands sentinel before the Grove;  
Guards ever waking at the threshold lie,  
And suffer none but Caesar to pass by:  
There his loose heart does in full Pastures graze,  
And various She's with awe upon him gaze.  Lea. 
Like heavens' proud King followed by Deities,  
The Tyrant walks with shinings through the Trees;  
His brow dilates, and his pursed lips awhile  
Forget their angry use, and gravely smile,  
To see officious Beauties charm his cares,  
Like Night's black lock● all powdered o'er with Stars.  Aras. 
There your revenge, if vengeance urge you still,  
May glut your appetite, and drink her fill.  
I have observed, and can your fury guide,  
To a slight-guarded Gate o'th' Tiber side,  
Watched by some drowsy Slaves, not more than we,  
Whom having killed, you may have passage free.  Caes. 
Methinks already thou hast talked 'em dead,  
And I am o'er the fatal Barriers fled,  
Like Perseus mounted on a Stead of Air,  
Beating the Lists to find the Monster there.  Lea. 
There you may take him swollen with drunken joy,  
And the Crowned brute with a full stroke destroy.  
Behold him sporting on spread Memphian spoils,  
In Mantles wrapped that breath rich odorous oils,  
Like a gay Snake basking in Sunny fields,  
Embraced by her who ripest pleasure yields.  Caes. 
Be gone, now instantly let's post away,  
The black revenging minutes will not stay;  
As the half-god Augaean Stables cleared,  
I'll purge these Gardens with his blood besmeared.  
Slow till the deed be done move the winged hours,  
I'll do't though Dragon's guard the golden Bowers.  Exeunt.  

SCENE 2. The Bower of Gloriana.  

SONG.  

1.  
AH the charms of a Beauty disdainful and fair,  
How she blasts all my joys when she bids me despair:  
Forgetting my State, when I sigh and lie down,  
And cast at her feet both Sceptre and Crown,  
She passes regardless, and says a young Swain,  
Before an old Monarch, her love should obtain.   

2.  
Remember, Fair Nymph, my Grandfather Jove,  
That reverend old God always made the best Love:  
So fiercely he moved with a manner Divine,  
That he melted his way, or blew up the Mine.  
Your scorn of my age therefore cease to pursue,  
And think what a loving old Caesar can do.    Augustus, Gloriana. Aug. 
From golden weights, high cares, Imperial strife,  
From Storms of State, and Hurricans of life,  
To the green Palace of the peaceful Grove  
To Gloriana's Bower, the Throne of Love,  
I come with all the violence of mind,  
The philters of Court-witchcraft to unbind:  
Thy heavenly voice is sure the noblest Spell,  
And thy eyes charms all Magic else excel.  Glor. 
Ye Authors of all sway, for what dark end  
To one so frail did you such power commend?  
He reels on such excessive height, he stands  
And drops his Sceptre from his shaking hands.  Aug. 
No matter, Gloriana, let it be,  
Who would not leave a Diadem for thee?  
Are not thy touches than all Sceptres more?  
Thy lips approached, where is the taste of power?  
Love is all taste, relish, and vital good,  
Spirits it gives that o'er life's channel brood,  
And like Wine-sparks dance through the brimming blood.  
Each smile of thine drives from my age a day,  
One balmy kiss would take a year away;  
But oh the rest would give me Youth again,  
Like an old Snake would cause me cast my skin.  
Slacken my sins, make me swiftly move,  
As Mercury descending from above,  
Boldly as Mars, and lustily as jove.  Glor. 
Is this the man of such renown in Wars,  
First upon Earth, and numbered with the Stars?  
Wake from thy sleep of death, dread Father, wake,  
Pompey arise, the reins of Empire take;  
Down let this driver from his Throne be hurled,  
Or place me on the brow of the steep World,  
That Nations driven by me may thunder on,  
And at my nod millions of Swords be drawn,  
Brandished with flashing death by mighty men,  
And when I give the word be sheathed again.  Aug. 
They shall, they shall, ambitious lovely Maid!  
I'll teach thy gentle arms the warrior's trade,  
Bind thy soft body fast with bands of Steel,  
And double-darted death thy foes shall kill.  
New arts that shall the old in Arms surprise,  
To see thy Lance as fatal as thy eyes.  
Caesar shall guard thee all the day in sight,  
And compass thee about with lifted Shields,  
So thou vouchsafe to dress those wounds at night  
Which he received for thee in fighting Fields.  Glo. 
Much you depend upon Tyrannic pride,  
Or think this breast incapable of scorn,  
Or that I never heard you had a Bride,  
Or you forget I am of Pompey born;  
If this your guilty mind considered, how  
Dare you approach me in my Brother's gore,  
Offering worse horror with a brazen brow,  
When your hot lust the Sister would devour?  Aug. 
Talk not of that high blood from which you came,  
Nor how your Brother's wrongs your scorn inflame;  
Heaven the young Pompey's honours did disperse,  
And now alone I sway the Universe:  
Consider this, and with the Time comply.  Glo. 
I have considered, and resolve to die.  
Complete your crimes, for what can I expect  
From rage which through the heart of Tully past,  
Tully who did with Godlike wit protect  
Thy cursed youth, to be betrayed at last.  
Go on, thou back Usurper! stop more breath,  
increase thy purples, fill thy Throne with death;  
Still may new falsehood add to former guilt,  
And the dear blood of Rome's best Sons be spilled;  
And may thy cruelties alone do more,  
Than all the cursed Triumvirate before.  Aug. 
Hold, Princess, hold! provoke me not too far,  
None ever said thus much and lived; beware,  
Thou'rt in my reach, no more my fetters shake,  
My rage yet sleeps, which Lion-like may wake.  
My heart which as some stubborn fiery Steed,  
Grew up unbacked, and did at random feed,  
When Love approached like you, did not disdain  
So fair a Rider, yielding to the rain,  
Now gently moves, except his freedom's barred;  
But if you spur him much, and curb him hard,  
Angry to be so indiscreetly rode,  
He springs and bounds beneath the mounted God.  Glo. 
If thy low fawning Love I scorned before,  
I now disdain thy menaced Fury more;  
Death is the utmost that thy rage can do,  
And that I'll every day provoke thee to.  Aug. 
Wilt thou? Ha! dar'st thou? sharp provoking Fair!  
Once more let me entreat thee do not dare,  
Dare like a foolish Fly, whose vexing wings  
Urge the slow Flame to burn her as she sings.  
Not as thy Slave before thee now I stand,  
But as thy Lord, and one that will command;  
As I am Master of the World, I'll be,  
Spite of thy scorn, the Master too of thee.  Glo. 
Master othed World! Indeed your Title's clear  
When you amongst the Syrian Boys appear,  
Contending as for Triumphs all the day,  
To win their Nuts and Bounding-stones at play.  
Such Conquests with such honourable pain  
Who but the Master of the World could gain?  
Was it for this thou didst all Nations quell,  
And by thy Arms the noble Brutus fell?  
You the Earth's God? This your Caesarian pride?  
Fly, fly, thy shame from human knowledge hide;  
To some By-path from all observance stray,  
And far from Roads of Glory take your way.  Aug. 
Now Rider Love! my life on't down a' goes;  
Look to't, I say, thy trembling knees keep close;  
Close to my side like destiny now sit,  
Fixed in my heartstrings firmly plant thy feet,  
For in my Teeth I've got th' ungrateful bit.  
There, there, with that last heave I threw him down,  
And now I thank my Stars my heart's my own.  
Beauty, thou once m'enlightner bright and kind,  
For ever set, I'll scourge thee from my mind  
Like day, nor shalt thou leave one streak behind:  
Thy lips, thy tongue, thy eyes have now no charms;  
My soul b' ambition waked to old alarms,  
Starts up and listens to the clanck of Arms.  Glo. 
Without this circumstance my death ordain.  Aug. 
No, that would be to put thee out of pain:  
As haughty virtue's sharpest punishment,  
Thou shalt live still, but not live innocent.  Glo. 
Not innocent! I scorn thy impious breath,  
I'll ope' ten thousand doors to let in death.  Aug. 
Not one, I'll shut up all, and set strict guard,  
There's not a Wicket shall be left unbarred;  
No chink through which kind Fate may draw thy thread,  
Or Death with his least finger touch thee dead.  Glo. 
Still rack thy cruel heart and cursed brain,  
Yet after all thy wish thou shalt not gain;  
Burst with thy malice, for I will not live,  
My life shall starve that honour may survive.  Aug. 
Nor that, for e'er to morrow's Sun appear,  
Thy Virgin-pride shall vanish into air.  
Starve, Gloriana, in a Monarch's bed!  
By Heaven thou shalt to surfeiting be fed.  Glo. 
Still perjured, since it shall not, cannot be  
So rich a purchase should be reaped by thee;  
For though I should consent to have it sold,  
Thou couldst not buy, thou art so wretched old.  Aug. 
If bliss anon would not less fiercely flow,  
By all my hopes I would enjoy thee now:  
But more delib'rate pleasure is decreed,  
I'll come by Moonlight which my flame shall feed,  
Like Tarquin pale resolved upon the deed.  
O Gloriana! e'er the Lark has sung  
Her morning Anthem, thou shalt say I'm young;  
Love through my life an equal pace has run,  
Swift near the Goal as where it first begun:  
I keep my course like the old Lord of Day,  
On my red cheeks the silver Tresses play,  
I shout and drive and never feel decay. Exit.  Glo. 
I thank thee, Heaven, that thou dost me ordain  
For woes no other woman could sustain.  
Woman! what man such Tempests could outwear?  
Yet like a rock both Sea and Winds I'll dare.  Enter Caesario, driving in the Captain. Caes. 
So sturdy, Sir, you that would take my Sword?  
'Tis for you, there; now bear it to your lord The Captain falls.  
Caesar come forth, thou Female-god appear,  
Not Plangus but Caesario waits thee here,  
The Son of julius, and the wide World's heir;  
Thou hear'st, but to approach me dost not dare.  
In what dark covert are thy Glories laid,  
Or do they sleep beneath some Laurel shade?  
Rocked on thy Mistress lap, whose knitting hands  
Lock up thy Captive cares in downy bands.  
Wake, wake, by Heaven my wrath thou shalt not shun,  
Though thou beneath her Robes for shelter run.  Glo. 
What art that wanderest in this fatal Wood,  
Whose thirsty Sword seeks for Majestic blood?  
Was it a borrowed Title, or true name  
Thou didst assume, whose eyes quick rolling flame,  
Glows with Ambition, Pride, Revenge and Fame?  Caes. 
Ha!— what I was you heard me speak but now;  
I was I know not what, and am I know not how.  
But speak and I'll consider what to say,  
I've hunted hard and now my heart's at Bay.  Glo. 
If you the Son of Divine julius are,  
How durst you in Augustus' Court appear?  
No breast but yours such rashness ever knew,  
But to approach him here, and singly too,  
Nought but distraction or despair would do.  
'Tis certain death.  Caes. 
That certain death is past,  
And I upon the blessed shore am cast:  
I tracked a Fiend I thought by Furies driven,  
I sought for Hell, but stumbled upon Heaven.  
You are—  Glo. 
A woman.  Caes. 
Angel's should speak true,  
But sure so bright a flower on Earth ne'er grew:  
Her lips, her cheeks must more than Roses be;  
What Stars her eyes, what moving Majesty?  
So sweet and so imperious too they move,  
Sparkling with beauty, glittering all with Love.  Enter Leander. Lea. 
Hast, or the Emperor will evade the toil;  
He's almost out of sight, hast to the spoil.  Caes. 
Not Julia's such when all her gems she wears,  
Nor sad Narcissa more adorned with tears;  
Yield Beauties yield, or shun this dazzling eye,  
Since those that stay will soon her Victims lie,  
Like Autumn-leaves, turn yellow all and die.  Glo. 
Just Heaven does sure this Godlike man provide,  
To bear me from the Tyrant's lust and pride.  
Beauty, if thou didst ever, aid me now,  
That I may make this haughty gazer bow,  
This heavenly Youth; Oh force him to adore,  
To love me only, I'll ne'er ask thee more.  Caes. 
Why beats my heart as I had poison ta'en?  
What means my burning breast and giddy brain?  
Swift thrilling cold with panic terror flies,  
And an unusual thaw dissolves my eyes;  
If Love thou art, I will not take the wound,  
My Armour shall thy pointed darts confound;  
I'll draw 'em, if they cannot be withstood,  
Though to the Feathers drinking in my blood;  
Then shake 'em at her eyes with fixed disdain,  
And hurl 'em to thy Godhead back again.  Enter Araspes. Aras. 
Your vengeance must another season take.  Caes. 
Love is low play, which Warriors should forsake;  
Yet what a stir does this blind Gamester make?  
He makes my heart rebound about my breast,  
And laughs to see me tire, and cries no rest;  
From side to side strikes the tormented Ball,  
And with each stroke he dints the very wall.  Glo. 
If you in Fields have purchased high renown,  
Have with persisting Virtue wonders done,  
And Wreaths rewards of toiling Valour won;  
Now in a Princess quarrel lift your Sword,  
Fate never did a nobler cause afford.  
By all the mighty Battles you have fought,  
By all the Trophies you with blood have bought,  
A Royal suffering Virgins wrongs redress,  
And kill the Giant vice that would oppress.  Caes. 
I meet the summons swift, and snatch the joy,  
Kindling at death, and panting to destroy;  
Another Sword like mine you'll ne'er employ.  
War was my Mistress, and I loved her long;  
She loved my Music, shoutings were my Song,  
And clashing Arms that echoed through the Plain,  
Neighing of Horses, groans of dying men;  
Notes which the Trump and hoarser Drum affords,  
And dying sounds rising from falls of Swords.  
Command dispatch, and bid your Lightning fly,  
I'll flash, I'll kill, I'll conquer in your eye,  
And after all here yield my breath and die.  
— O could you love!  Glo. 
Let Love be mentioned last,  
But first to free me hence you should forecast.  Caes. 
By all my love you are already past:  
You are, O Heaven! wherever you would be,  
And I am with you all o'er ecstasy.  
High walls and towers are leveled where you go;  
You tread on pants, and sighs about you blow,  
And hearts in their own bleedings round you flow.  Aras. 
If you would bear her safe, hast Sir away.  Lea. 
The minute's critical and will not stay.  Caes. 
Move on, and bravely let us meet our dooms,  
But give me warning ere the Tyrant comes;  
I'll follow slowly, and while Love is by,  
The swiftest deaths and rushing fates defy.  Glo. 
In all your acts such Godlike manners shine,  
I doubt not but your Parents are Divine;  
Therefore to match you with a stock of fame,  
Know from a race as high as yours I came,  
Pompey the Great, and fair Cornelia gave  
The life which you so generously would save.  Caes. 
Ha! now I find the cause I ne'er could love;  
Long, long ago our hearts were paired above;  
And my ambition joined with destiny,  
Oft times suggesting it could never be,  
That Caesar's Son who all the World had awed,  
Should wed beneath the daughter of a God. Exeunt.    

ACT. IU.  

SCENE, The Palace of Marcellus.  Marcellus with his Sword drawn against Julia. Mar. 
BY Heaven I'll bear no more, 'tis public now,  
Disgrace so bold is graved upon thy brow,  
That e'en old age, whose eyes are seldom clear,  
Dim with death's mist, can read thy falsehood there:  
All Rome with thy proclaimed dishonour rings,  
And every Infant Julia's lewdness sings.  
What can thy crimes expect from my just rage?  jul. 
Death, let my blood your violent wrath assuage;  
'Tis better we should both for ever sleep  
In calms, then wake in storms, and always weep.  Mar. 
Weep! If the Ocean from thy eyes were spilled,  
The Ocean could not wash away thy guilt.  
Nor think that when thy Beauties shall be laid  
In Earth, thy peace is then for ever made;  
No, faithless Fair! still shalt thou haunted be,  
And a long row of pale adulterers see,  
And me at last pursuing them and thee.  jul. 
Not haunting Furies there can rack me more,  
Than Jealousies on earth that louder roar;  
Though I should make account for every thought,  
While false relations are by Traitors wrought,  
And you believe those most that most abuse,  
'Twere vain for me my honour to excuse.  Mar. 
How well your pride an innocence can feign?  
Excuse your honour! That indeed's most vain;  
Thy purpose vain as thy past actions foul,  
Vain all thy thoughts which with wild fancies roll,  
And one immortal Vanity's thy soul.  jul. 
I cannot stay to hear your vain debate.  Mar. 
Pass not this way, 'tis guarded with thy fate.  jul. 
Strike then, and free me from a world of cares,  
Better die once then always live in fears:  
Loud clamours all the day my peace molest,  
With perjured, false, I hate, renounce, detest;  
Still am I waked by day with these alarms:  
At night you start, and throw me from your arms.  
Last night your head upon my breast reposed,  
Just as sweet balmy sleep my eyes had closed,  
Hearing me sigh, you cried aloud, By Heaven  
Those sighs are to your dear loved Ovid given;  
But I will conjure him from Pontus' back,  
And his cursed life by thousand torments take.  Mar. 
O julia, is there not a cause for this?  
Thou sayst I rob thy days and nights of peace,  
Hast thou not robbed my life of all its bliss?  
Heaven witness what I am, and what have been;  
What thou hast done, how gloried in thy sin,  
How triumphed in thy ills.—  jul. 
What I have done  
Shall to no mortal, not to you be known.  Mar. 
I'll know.  jul. 
Ye shall not.  Mar. 
With this sure I shall;  
I'll open every vein and know thee all.  jul. 
Strike;— to thy vengeance summon all the lies  
Which false Tiberius' malice could devise.  Mar. 
I've summoned all he told with loyal breath,  
And all those truth's doom thee to sudden death.  jul. 
Why then dost thou not strike, revenging Lord!  
Behold my breast prepared to meet thy Sword;  
Thy cruel kindness thus it shall approve,  
Naked to Anger, as it was to Love.  
Why shrinks thy arm as if it feared to wound,  
And drops thy coward weapon to the ground?  Mar. 
I know thee false, yet have no power to harms:  
Fierce passion my armed vengeance does disarm:  
Beauty which through thy vice I could not spy,  
Did like a dangerous foe in Ambush lie.  
Here, julia, execute thy bloody will,  
I know thy purpose is at last to kill:  
Be but thus kind, life freely I resign;  
Thou'rt born to break all hearts, and must break mine.  jul. 
No, my Marcellus, trust me from this hour  
You shall be ever my Lord Conqueror;  
Thou ever wert the dearest of mankind,  
But now my heart is to thy looks confined.  
By all our Loves you never were betrayed,  
Henceforth be absolute, my breast in vade,  
There like a gentle Monarch thou shalt sway,  
And I with gentler mind thy Laws obey.  Mar. 
Prove but thy heart as heavenly as thy tongue,  
Be but thus good, and I had never wrong.  Enter Caesario bloody, leading Gloriana veiled, followed by Leander, Araspes. Mar. 
My noble brother! what can friendship say  
Which from my arms absented half a day?  
Together still in Battle we did ride,  
Nor could united Troops the link divide;  
Shall Peace disjoin what was not broke by War,  
And Crowds in Courts do more than Armies there?  Caes. 
Now I shall try the friendship which you boast;  
If now not found, let it be ever lost.  
This Beauty with some blood and danger bought,  
(Great deeds for Beauty by young blood are wrought)  
I from the den of an old Beast of prey  
Snatched, while abroad he did for forage stray.  
By this he is returned, and finds her gone;  
By this the Groves resound, and Forests groan.  Mar. 
Thus in your cause advancing thus I 'le face  
A band of Bloodhound Furies in their chase.  Caes. 
First let us lodge where they shall never find,  
The Hart whose death those Hunters have designed;  
Then with Relays each to his station go,  
And bravely fall upon the Savage foe:  
Our Bugle breath shall wind Recheats, and tell  
'Tis not the Deres, but the roused Hunter's knell.  jul. 
While you that Virtue might not be undone  
Looked fierce, methought my brows too catched a frown;  
I burned and grew ambitious to be one.  
whoever she be, as sure she is most fair,  
For whom the sounds of fame so busy are,  
I promise her a covert where she shall,  
Safe as in clouds, look down upon 'em all.  Caes. 
O bounty which my blood can never pay!  
I would do all, yet I must something say;  
What Hellborn envy, cursed Infernal spite,  
So used to darkness that it hates the light,  
Shall dare though silence she with pain endures,  
Traduce a Virtue so renowned as yours?  
By Heaven I swear, and by this faithful Steel,  
So deep in beauty's conquering quarrel died,  
I stand your Champion to your cause allied,  
To damn those Slaves that have your fame belied.  Enter Narcissa ●●●●ing. Nar. 
Fly, fly, you're lost, the Empire's overthrown!  
Fly Plangus, fly Sir, murdered Caesar's Son●  
Not stir! By all my fears, most cruel Prince,  
Thou shalt not stay and die, I'll drag thee hence.  
The Captain whom your valour left for dead,  
Heard your discourse, and has relation made.  
All's out, thou art betrayed, O Heaven! undone,  
What shall I say? thy name, thy birth is known;  
Destruction gallops to thy murder Post,  
And Caesar looks as if the World were lost.  Caes. 
Though driven by whirlwinds he should roll like fire,  
I would not from this Earth one inch retire;  
Let destiny about my death consult,  
All thoughts of safety from my side revolt,  
I'll stand him though he were a Thunderbolt.  Mar. 
Perhaps my prayers and low submissions may  
Divert his wrath, or his revenge delay.  jul. 
With yours my mingled tears and sighs shall join,  
He may resist yours, but he shall not mine.  Nar. 
But if inflexibly he will deny,  
Together let us all resolve to die.  Glo. 
Since this secures my honour, can I fear?  
Not Martyrs with more joy their summons hear.  
Methinks I long in those dark walks to tread,  
And wrap myself about with honoured Lead,  
Where all the Worthies of the Earth lie dead.  
Nor shall my Spirit in that ponderous Case  
Be kept, but shoot as rays through Crystal pass;  
Through doors of death, with Mountains piled on Rocks,  
With thousand Bars, and with ten thousand Locks,  
Like Lightning she shall cut her sacred way  
Through all, and rise to everlasting day.  Nar. 
What Spirit's this more fierce than boldest men,  
That with such hautiness does life disdain?  Caes. 
O death! thou ever dry bloodthirsty Slave,  
All! Hellhound, all art thou resolved to have?  
But taste my heart, 'tis Royal, rich and good,  
Each drop's more worth than Tuns of Vulgar blood.  
Cannot th' exhausted shore for once suffice?  
I'll make it up with Rivers from their eyes;  
Tears will not make him drunk, the Slave repliest.  Glo. 
Can this be true, Caesario, dost thou droop?  
Dost thou at last beneath death's burden stoop?  
Is this the Hero, this the Godlike man  
Whose rage the stout Iberians overran?  
That me redeemed this day from ravenous power,  
And from the pounces of the Vulture tore?  Caes. 
O Gloriana! with confusion I  
Confess 'tis now a dreadful thing to die:  
Your fatal purpose does to pieces tear  
That courage which all dangers else can dare.  
O live, retire, and those blessed Beauties hide,  
Far from the reach of Caesar's cruel pride;  
Then I shall easily death's yoke put on,  
And calm as those that fall asleep lie down.  Glo. 
Caesario, No, unjust is thy request, puts up her veil, Narcissa observes her.  
Why should I wake when thou art gone to rest?  
And since I love thee, which I now may own,  
The fastest secrets are by death undone,  
What will life signify when thou art gone?  
Grant that I 'scape the Tyrant's rage, and fly  
To some strange Land, and leave you here to die,  
Shall I survive to blot thee from my mind?  
Forget thee? Or to one less brave be kind?  
Is this thy wish? or wouldst thou I should live  
And thy eternal loss for ever grieve?  Caes. 
Live, die, be free, or yield yourself again,  
I will no more of you, but Heaven complain;  
Heaven that can see such Virtue in distress,  
And with exceeding power a Tyrant bless;  
Heaven that could smile when noblest Romans fell,  
As if enormous cruelties were well;  
Heaven that allows this parricide a name  
As great and good as the first Sons of Fame.  Nar. 
Love sparkles through her shade:  
His eyes to her, and hers to him are moved,  
She loves, she loves and is again beloved;  
She sighs and weeps, and rolls her subtle eyes,  
And all the charms of knowing beauty tries:  
She looks as if her very eyes would speak,  
As if (ah would it might) her heart would break.  
But Caesar comes, some other time I'll take  
To tell my wrongs, his life is now at stake.  Enter Augustus, Captain, Agrippa, Maecenas, Guards. Capt. 
Hither I followed 'em with cautious view.  Aug. 
Maecenas, let him have the Talents due.  
Lo where the Ravisher undaunted stands,  
As if encompassed with a thousand Bands;  
Bold as Briareus warring in heavens' Field,  
When fifty flaming Swords his arms did wield,  
And fifty Shields exposed to thunder held.  
O my Agrippa! should I view him long,  
I should forget, forgive the mighty wrong;  
In that Majestic glance, and fiery air,  
Methinks our awful Father does appear.  Agr. 
Something less fierce his visage does renew,  
Such beams from beauteous Cleopatra flew,  
When sighing Kings to Aegypt's Court she drew.  Caes. 
Yes, my renowned extraction I declare,  
I am by birth what you adopted are,  
The King of Kings, and the World's lawful Heir.  Aug. 
Such you were named by Anthony indeed,  
But the great Caesar otherwise decreed.  Caes. 
What he intended who but Heaven can tell?  
Scarce seated from th' Imperial Throne he fell:  
He stood on Atlas' shoulders unaffraid  
Some minutes, and the trampled Globe surveyed;  
Filled with vast business, and with thoughts profound,  
He had not leisure for a prospect round,  
For e'er to Aegypt's Queen he could be just,  
That head which Stars encompassed, kissed the dust.  Aug. 
Yet to make void whatever you can say,  
And dash your boldest hopes that fly at sway,  
By his last Will, which was to Romans shown,  
I was ordained to mount and fill his Throne,  
To scourge the World, and awe mankind alone.  Caes. 
I no Imperial Herald am, to find  
The source of power, nor how its rivulets wind;  
Yet this I know, your latter boast was vain,  
Caesar had ne'er adopted you to reign,  
Had he known me, who from the womb was past,  
And first saw light when he beheld it last.  Aug. 
When conquering Caesar Pompey did pursue,  
And in his cause the Memphian Tyrant slew,  
He bought your Mother's love with Egypt's Crown,  
And with her at a Kingdom's price lay down.  
But having surfeited with Beauty's joys,  
For Beauty much possessed extremely cloys,  
Scared with his shame he waked to Wars alarms,  
He left her pregnant, and he rushed to Arms.  
'Twas Godlike, and he imitated jove,  
Who with excessive thundering tired above,  
Comes down for ease, enjoys a Nymph, and then  
Mounts dreadful and to thundering goes again.  Caes. 
Talk'st thou of her basely that gave me birth,  
The most illustrious Empress of the earth,  
Whose smiles Kings did with adorations crave?  
By Heaven she would have scorned thee for her Slave.  
Name not thy humbler blood, nor let it be  
Compared to mine, no more than I to thee;  
Who am to thee, nor will I me commend,  
A God all o'er, and thou all o'er a Fiend.  Aug. 
You speak, Caesario, with as little dread,  
As if you were at some vast Army's head;  
Were it not that I reverence Caesar's blood,  
Thus long you had not disrespectful stood.  Caes. 
O counterfeit! O Crocodile of Power!  
Not woman e'er dissembled thus before.  
Thou reverence Caesar's blood—  
Thou who didst never aught that's generous do,  
Who never didst forgive a noble foe,  
Me wouldst thou make believe thou canst be kind?  
I know th' hypocrisy, thy devilish mind,  
Which holds thy Angel-colours high to show,  
But art all ruin, blood and Hell below.  Aug. 
Who e'er was thus provoked and could forbear?  
Be witness all, himself he will not spare.  Caes. 
No, Tyrant, no, I will in public die,  
And once at least expose thy cruelty;  
The murders which thou hitherto hast done  
Were acted close, their Authors rarely known;  
But I will perish in the view of all,  
And to my last gasp Tyrant, Tyrant call.  Aug. 
Pardon me, Father, and just rage forgive,  
I offer life which he cannot receive,  
He's so Heroic that he will not live.  
'Tis his desire, and for this one last hour  
I have decreed he shall be Emperor;  
His majesty's resolved you heard him say,  
Guards go and his Imperial will obey.  Caes. 
Let 'em come on, 'tis sport that I have tried  
In hundred Battles, thousand deaths defied, draws.  
And now in all their horrors can deride.  (As the Guards prepare to fall on, Marcellus draws.) Mar. 
Restrain your fury, barbarous men! take heed,  
By Caesar he that goes not back shall bleed.  Aug. 
What now? Marcellus! Dar'st thou Traitor draw  
Thy Sword against thy Father? where's the awe,  
The Majesty this face was wont to bear?  Mar. 
'Twere Cowardice in such a cause to fear:  
No, Caesar, either grant my Friend his life,  
Or see me perish in the noble strife.  Aug. 
Do, perish, die; is't possible that thou  
Shouldst call him Friend, who is thy Father's Foe?  
He who thy only Rival is in power,  
Dost thou not know he would thy life devour?  
Who Serpent-like does to thy bosom spring,  
And with warm foldings does about thee cling,  
Watching his time when he may show his sting.  Caes. 
This such a baseness is, so black a guilt,  
As all the Seas of blood which thou hast spilled,  
With all thy clouds of Lusts can't parallel,  
Thou dost in falsehood now thyself excel:  
But should Marcellus harbour such a thought,  
I am to something worse than ruin brought.  Mar. 
Tax not my loyalty, you are too just  
The firmness of my Friendship to mistrust;  
I am all yours, and you stand here as fair  
And fast as e'er you stood in shining War;  
As I have seen you in bright Steel sustain  
The shock of Troops that made assaults in vain.  Aug. 
Ungrateful wretch! unworthy of a Throne!  
By Heaven I will adopt another Son:  
Canst thou thy right to Kingdoms give away,  
Thyself and him who raised thee thus betray?  
Forget what sweating pains, what bloody toils  
We bore, adorned our Arms with Nations spoils;  
Yet with our utmost reach scarce grasped a Crown,  
Glory than Empire is much easier won:  
Empire's like Heaven, which who would bravely win,  
Must Giantlike with high assault begin;  
Heap Hills on Mountains, Project add to Plot,  
Till huge foundation for the work be wrought:  
And as he climbs, at Stars that cross him frown,  
And tear 'em fast as petty Princes down.  
Thus through all opposition must he pass  
O'er walls of Crystal, battlements of Brass,  
Till Majesty cries out, This, This alone  
Is he who Heaven becomes, and fits a Throne.  Caes. 
Thou talk'st of cruelty, of blood and toil,  
Yet having hunted me into the toil,  
My Lion rage with words far off you brave,  
But come not nigh for fear you find a Grave.  Aug. 
Disarm Marcellus, and Caesario slay;  
Kill him, haste, kill him without more delay.  (Julia and Narcissa interpose and kneel.) jul. 
Hold, Father.  Nar. 
Hold.  jul. 
Let me your wrath atone.  Nar, 
O hear the Sister of your once loved Son.  jul. 
Your daughter hear. They come forward on their knees.  Nar. 
As you are great be good.  jul. 
And hear the voice of your own crying blood.  Aug. 
Treason! Conspiracy! they have combined  
With knit disloyalty to break my mind,  
To waste my spirits, and to bow my will;  
Yet like an old tough Oak I'll hold out still:  
Spite of the sighs that blow, and showers that weep,  
My soul to death shall her vowed purpose keep.  
Speak, break your hearts, the Gusts of grief I'll tire,  
Like hammered Anvil I'll more blows require,  
That at each stroke my eyes may scatter fire.  Nar. 
By all the Godlike honours you have won.  jul. 
By all the Nations that you have undone.  Nar. 
Stop here, the Tempest of your fury lay,  
Do not the Earth with lasting storms dismay.  jul. 
Or to your rolling Thunder give a check,  
Or let the cloud upon your daughter break.  Aug. 
Yes, Vipers! yes, by jupiter it shall!  
I'll lighten, thunder, and consume ye all.  
Kill 'em, Guards, kill my Niece, my Daughter, Son;  
'Tis glorious death they seek, haste, push 'em on.  
Ha! Villains,— Traitors, dare ye thus give back?  
Myself in my own cause revenge will take.  Agrippa and Maecenas hold him. 
Though blood's below an Emperor to spill,  
I'll first disarm 'em, and then you shall kill.  Strives to get from Agrippa. 
Thus an old Lion struggles with his prey,  
Which when all torn his flaming eyes survey,  
The Royal Savage scorns the easy prize,  
And calls his young ones forth with dreadful cries;  
He gathers round him all the cruel brood,  
Thus calls 'em on, and flesh's 'em in blood.  [Breaks from their arms, Gloriana unveils and meets him.] Glor. 
Augustus, hold, and Caesar's Son retire,  
'Tis just that I for all should once expire;  
Caesario but for me you ne'er had known,  
Who saved my life by hazarding his own.  
Because Caesario has my honour freed,  
Your doom has sentenced him and these to bleed:  
Which to avoid, and set all right again,  
Caesar, I yield to wear my former chain.  Caes. 
Ah cruel Princess! what, what have you done?  
And whither would you from Caesario run?  
All's lost for which I thought life worth regard;  
You have yourself transferred that dear reward  
Which I with thousand dangers would have bought,  
You have yourself my sharpest torments wrought.  
Death I could meet in its most hideous forms,  
In brazen Bulls, in racks, wheels, fires, and storms,  
But cannot see you his:— Here, Tyrant, take renders his Sword.  
A life that does its own disquiets make.  
To her vexation, terror 'tis to thee,  
But of all torments 'tis the worst to me.  Aug. 
I take thy Sword, and when I think it fit,  
Thy soul her melancholy house shall quit.  Glor. 
By all Heroic proofs of your high fame,  
When yours I cease to be, I nothing am:  
Concealed exalted projects fill my mind,  
I had not else to Caesar thus resigned  
What is all yours.  Caes. 
By Heaven you are all his,  
Already he is hastening to his bliss.  
How to yourself unkind, to me unjust,  
That would to one so known a Tyrant trust;  
I see his eyes red with Triumphant lust.  
I see him from your sacred body tear  
The scattered Robes in your dishevelled hair;  
I see his bloody hand, I hear his tongue  
Cry Yield, and now I see you thrown along;  
Hands tired, speech lost, no empiric now appears,  
But speaking sighs, and more persuading tears:  
Now grasping thee my fancy shows him nigher,  
Pale as thy cheeks, and shaking with desire,  
I see him on thy vanquished honour tread,  
I see the Rape, and with the sight am dead.  Aug. 
Death!— I'll endure no more, haste, lead her hence;  
And Guards, upon your lives secure the Prince.  
How dar'st thou gaze thus now thy doom is past?  Caes. 
I'll look my soul out.  Aug. 
Do, this looks thy last.  
To rack thee more, thou shalt look once again,  
And pass by Heaven to Hell; 'tis witty pain,  
And worthy of a King's revengeful brain.  
As obscene Birds snatch the remains of light,  
Rise late in Summer-Eves, and set in Night;  
So like a Bat thou shalt her eyes survey,  
Then in death's deepest darkness dive away.  (He goes out, followed by Marcellus, Julia, Narcissa, who seem to entreat him; Guards stay.) Caes. 
O Gloriana!  Glor. 
O Caesario!  Caes. 
Cease;  
Let's seal our lips with everlasting peace:  
Griefs so unutterable who can speak?  Glor. 
Have we hearts still?  Caes. 
Grant Heaven that mine may break.  Glor. 
Caesario, we must part.  Caes. 
Gods! she's in haste,  
The time the Tyrant gave she wishes past.  Glor. 
Caesar's commands will instantly be sent,  
'Tis better to divide than to be rent.  
How much I love—  Caes. 
That I would dying hear,  
And to the shades the sweet expressions bear.  Glor. 
Why should you wish what cannot be expressed,  
But guess my flame by that which warms your breast?  
Love's magnitnde is harder to declare,  
Than 'tis to tell the bigness of a Star.  
This I can say, if that can passion show,  
With you I'd rather to a Cottage go,  
Than with Augustus live and wear a Crown;  
'Tis death to part,— and yet I must be gone.  
This though I know, I cannot but look back,  
And sigh adieus, and thousand farewells take.  
I linger after you, and wish your sight,  
Like Birds that languish for the morning light:  
Like Babes unkindly weaned, that take no rest,  
But bathed in tears lie pining for the breast;  
I seek your heart, and when I find it gone,  
I weep and sigh as I would break my own.  Caes. 
'Tis Love, 'tis Love the great dear ecstasy,  
And I with Raptures find you equal me.  
O that such Loves should have so quick a doom!  
Like lives of Lilies, blasted in their bloom:  
Yet we'll appear in this last minute strong,  
And talk as if our joys should flourish long:  
We, like protesting Swains, will plight our faith,  
And wish that when we break, our perjured breath  
May straight be stopped by the cold hand of death.  Glor. 
If not to death my passion I preserve,  
And all the Love which you can give deserve,  
Though from their seats the Rival Gods came down,  
And each should woo me with a Starry Crown;  
Though the fine Sun, or finer God of Love,  
Should swear they prized me more than joys above;  
Yet if to them in all the beams they wear,  
I did not thee in humble weeds prefer,  
May Lions bolting from the nearest Wood,  
Quench their hot thirst in Gloriana's blood.  Caes. 
If thou more fair than the red morning's dawn,  
Sweeter than Pearley dews that scent the lawn;  
Then blue-eyed Violets, or the damask Rose,  
When in her hottest fragrancy she glows,  
And the cool West her wafted odour blows;  
If thou art not the darling of my soul,  
May Mountains big with curses on me roll.  Glor. 
On me may Lightnings fall, and Mildews rain,  
And may I die at last of Mother's pain.  Caes. 
May jove shower all his Thunders on my head,  
And may I be despised when I am dead;  
Then as I lie all pale upon the ground,  
May every Virgin give my breast a wound;  
May no eye pity me, nor heart deplore  
That faithless wretch who his first Love forswore. Exeunt.    

ACT. V.  

SCENE, The Imperial Chamber.  Augustus, Narcissa. Aug. 
WHat! shall I never rest till I am dead?  Nar. 
I'll wake you in your everlasting bed;  
I'll banish silence from your ears, your eyes  
Affright with forms of ghastly miseries:  
Yet hear me.—  Aug. 
Thou shalt be a Monarch's wife,  
Ask me no more to spare Caesario's life,  
A vagabond thou shouldst disdain to own,  
I swear I'll match thee to a Prince; be gone.  Nar. 
A Prince! what Prince, what King, what God can be  
Equal to him, to my Divinity?  
He is a Prince, a King, a God to me;  
My heart's first, last, chief, dearest, only joy;  
Can you hear this, yet purpose to destroy?  
O Iron heart!  Aug. 
Yet you can make it run;  
Soft fool, be gone: by Heaven she melts me down.  Nar. 
My milky infancy why did you grace,  
And flatter so while you did me embrace?  
And swear this was the prettiest charming face:  
Is there no sweetness left, no grace to move?  
Am I grown old? have I quite lost your love?  
No kind remains? all promises forgot?  Aug. 
They are, they are, and I will pay thee nought.  
I'm called to high affairs and must not stay,  
Go to your Garden-huswifry, away.  Nar. 
'Tis well indeed you can remember that;  
Oft times as I on beds of Violets sat,  
You on my knees placed your Majestic head,  
While on your Crown my Infant-fingers played,  
And all your Silver hairs in order laid;  
And than you smiled and promised, nay you swore  
Whatever I could ask of bounteous power,  
It should be granted: This you needs must know,  
And Heaven that heard you sure will angry grow,  
And will revenge, if you deny me now.  Aug. 
Augustus cannot with Caesario stand:  
Asking his life, thou dost my death demand.  
Two Caesar's the rent World will ne'er obey,  
As well two Rival Suns might drive the day,  
Or jove a partner brook in heavenly sway.  Nar. 
Poor Prince, you wrong him; he an Emperor!  
Alas he never meant to share your power;  
Spare but his life, and he with me shall dwell,  
In Groves which all your Palaces excel;  
Where Heaven and Earth their choicest wealth bestow,  
Where no such weeds as Pride or Envy grow.  
We'll mock the arts of Courts, and harms of State,  
Where those are highest that wade deep in fate,  
Like Giants very cruel, very great.  Aug. 
Well, leave me, I'll consider what to do,  
Caesario lives, and owes his life to you.  Nar. 
Live! shall he live! O heavens'! pronounce it pla  
Speak Let him live, distinctly once again,  
That I may die upon the ravished sound,  
And with my last breath echo, Live around.  
But you perhaps your mystic mind unfold  
In Riddling terms, like Oracles of old;  
And I unknowing innocence may take  
Your purpose wrong, and some gross error make.  
Dear dreadful Sir, let me this grace receive, kneels  
Shall he without equivocation live?  Enter Gloriana. Aug. 
Rise, dear Narcissa, rise, hast and retire,  
I yield, I grant whatever you require.  Nar. 
This is my hated Rival, ere I go  
I'll watch and what she acts with Caesar know.  Aug. 
Ambition's poison which the Spirits burn,  
And all the blood to liquid Sulphur turn;  
The toil of War when action makes us sweat,  
Scorched with our sultry Arms redoubled heat;  
Plagues, Surfeits, Fevers, the great harms of Peace,  
Contracted by excessive idleness,  
Are Dew-drops to the brands, the glowing fire  
You kindle here, and with your breath inspire.  Glor. 
My tears shall quench the flame.  Aug. 
You may as well  
Put out the Sun, or quench the fires of Hell.  
I thought you set for ever, but you rise  
More glorious, more tormenting to my eyes.  Glor. 
Of furious passion why should you complain  
To me? Am I the author of your pain?  
Or can I help what you ordain shall be?  
You raise these storms, and cast 'em upon me.  
The works of Beauty, like itself, are fair;  
I beg for Peace, 'tis you that thunder War:  
Like March Tyrannic rage black Tempests pours,  
But I like April am all Sun and showers.  Aug. 
'Ttrue, continued storms my peace molest,  
And like old Ocean I can never rest;  
About my head many State-Tempests sing,  
And rapid troubles the raised billows wing:  
Yet beauty's influence, like the Moon's below,  
Is cause of passions constant ebb and flow.  
But 'tis at length by me resolved, I will  
For the World's quiet, and my own, be still:  
You like the Queen of Love, wafted in calms,  
Distilling cordial sweets and healing balms,  
Shall lull my stormy cares, and rock my head,  
On the soft pillows of thy bosom laid.  Glor. 
Shall then Caesario live?  Aug. 
He shall, he must,  
'Tis indisputable, be thou but just:  
With kindness my unwearied love regard,  
And give my services their due reward.  Glor. 
Let him but live, and that reward may come.  Aug. 
Live! he shall live beyond the day of doom,  
Consent, yield, bow thy beauties to my will:—  
Wouldst thou have blood? Thou shalt whole Nations spill;  
Or if t' oblige the World you'd breathe bestow,  
Caesario's life will be too little; no,  
His immortality can ne'er suffice,  
Speak but the word, the dead, the dead shall rise;  
Heroes that died a thousand years ago,  
Shall burst death's Adamantine Gates below,  
Though Pluto should himself the Porter stand,  
And rush amazed to light at thy command.  Glor. 
'Tis fit that none beneath an Emperor should  
Mingle with Pompey's high extracted blood;  
We know Caesario's young, and charming fierce,  
But 'tis Augustus rules the Universe:  
Yet since Caesario durst attempt so well,  
Why let him live, but in strange Countries dwell,  
And not presume to show his follies here,  
He die if he again in Rome appear.  Aug. 
My passion drinks your eyes refreshing streams,  
Catches your breath, and hovers o'er the steam●;  
I reel, my joy's so sprightly fierce refined,  
Yes, Madam, Love's the drunkeness o'th' mind:  
Men raised with Wine equal with Monarch's move,  
But Kings are Gods when extassed by Love.  Glor. 
With equal passion I your raptures greet,  
With as fierce fires your hottest burnings meet;  
Fierce as Thalestris Alexander fought,  
But with such Arms as no destruction wrought:  
I'll rush upon you with a Heaven of Charms,  
And make you buckle when you're out of Arms.  Aug. 
O thou art all the sweetness of the earth.  
Thou mak'st me young, nay giv'st me a new birth;  
And dost such Virgin-thoughts to me restore,  
As if I ne'er had known delights before.  Narcissa meets 'em going out. Nar. 
Stay, Caesar, stay, thou man of mighty ill,  
Hear me, and all the stings of Honour feel;  
If you persist, go on in this dark way,  
May you arrive at Hell; may never day,  
Nor Glory which did once your breast inflame,  
Gilled your achievements, nor adorn your name:  
May you be hurled from the high Helm of State,  
And seem more vile than ever you were great.  Aug. 
This seed of fire, lest it should spread about,  
I will discreetly in its growth put out:  
She shall a Prisoner be, take her away.  Nar. 
Bind me in dungeons, yet I will not stay:  
To publish thy disgrace I'll shoot through poorest,  
I'll pierce, I'll fly, I'll burst the prison-doors;  
This seed of fire shall get ten thousand fears,  
And set the World on blaze about your ears.  Aug. 
No, to the Vestals you shall go, and there,  
Since you're so hot, the Sacred fires repair;  
While you have any breath there reek your spite,  
This frantic zeal will make 'em burn more bright.  Glor. 
Though highly born, yet educated low,  
Distance, degrees, and forms she cannot know;  
She like a Shepherdess by Princes loved,  
Is dazzled with the height to which she's moved.  
Though bold to madness, pardon her for me,  
Excuse her ignorance and leave her free.  Nar. 
At thy request! disdainful as you are,  
Offending, false, and most destructive Fair,  
Rather than with thy prayers I'll freedom buy.  
Dark as thy soul I will in dungeons lie.  
By philters, witchcraft, and Infernal art,  
'Tis true that thou hast stolen Caesario's heart:  
Thou like a cruel Fairy didst convey  
That dear beloved, that darling heart away, weeping.  
And in its room a cold dead figure lay.  
But I will be revenged, to pieces tear  
Those borrowed eyes, and that enchanted hair;  
Pull off thy pride, disrobe thy gorgeous power.  
And stripped of those, show thee a Witch all o'er.  Aug. 
Away to some dark room let her be had,  
For either you and I, or she is mad.  Nar. 
Yes, go devour your selve● with eager lust,  
Gnash with the pangs of passion, grind to dust;  
Joined with dishonour infamously one,  
So may ye to the blushing world be shown:  
As once the grim lascivious God of War,  
Caught by the jealous Husband's watchful care,  
Kissing Love's melting Empress, was betrayed,  
Ridiculous to all high Rulers made,  
May thy Gold Sceptre wither in her hand,  
Still be a Slave, and still may she command. Exit.  Glor. 
Caesar is moved, in his consid'rate eye  
I read remorse, and waring passions spy;  
With stronger charms 'tis just I draw him on,  
Lest the revenging deed be left undone.  Aug. 
No, I'll not go to bed, nor taste the joy,  
The lovely poison whose sad sweets destroys:  
Neither in Bed nor Throne I'll be her Slave,  
That Nest of pleasure, but my Honour's Grave:  
Here like Pigmalion's Image will I stand,  
But never to be warmed by any hand.  Glor. 
What sudden horrour's this that clouds your eyes,  
Like damps which from some vaults foul bottom rise?  
Smothering the cheerful lights that shone e'er while,  
It turns to mortal frowns your every smile:  
The breath of any man can warm, or chill,  
But yours alone can make alive, or kill.  Aug. 
Of late so coy, and now so forward grown:  
The mysteries of Love I have not known,  
Nor can I this dark Riddle's meaning guess;  
If Fate be in't, let Fate itself express●  
I feel vast appetite, yet dread to eat,  
As if I saw that death were in the meat.  
As half-starved Fish that fear the mortal Hook,  
Yet by the lovely Bait drawn in are struck;  
She hangs so fair, so tempting to my eye,  
Let ruin wait, I'll taste her though I die. Exeunt.  

SONG  
How severe is fate to break a heart  
That never went a roving;  
To torture it with endless smart,  
For too much constant loving:  
I bleed, I bleed, I melt away,  
I wash my watery Pillow;  
I walk the Woods alone all day,  
And wrap me round in Willow.   Caesario solus, rising as from sleep. Caes. 
I'll not endure't; Hence from my fancy rush●  
Or I to nought your frightful air will crush:  
Methought I saw her in Augustus' bed,  
And after by my side beheld her dead.  
die Gloriana, better thou shouldst bleed,  
Than once consent in thought to such a deed.  Enter Narcissa. 
O beauteous Virgin, daughter of the Spring,  
Who to my Winter dost refreshings bring,  
Still all in tears? Like the Celestial bow,  
Bending with cares and sorrows that o'erflow;  
Though bright yet sad thy shinings all appear,  
And on thy every Glory hangs a tear.  Nar. 
Alas I know not what I have to say,  
Yet I methinks could talk to you all day;  
Tell you the mightiness of Tyrant Love,  
And how I could from Courts with you remove;  
Could like the humble Lark in my cold Nest, I  
Abroad all night in frosty Meadows rest:  
So I my vows to you my Star might bring,  
And every morning Songs of sorrow sing.  Caes. 
O torment which the generous cannot bear!  
Cease thy lamented story to declare,  
Dolefull and sweet as waking Nightingales,  
When they repeat in Groves their Tragic Tales.  Nar. 
Is it then writ in the dark boo●● above,  
That you the poor Narcissa ne'er shall love?  
That she shall languish with eternal pain,  
And never, never be beloved against?  
O stay, I see denial in your eyes:  
Yet as when some beloved Relation dies,  
We to the person whom he loved most dea●  
With caution come, first usher doubt, than fear,  
And with sad preparation teach the ear;  
So to my trembling heart be cruel kind,  
And sooth with soft delays my wounded mind.  Caes. 
I will for ever thus before thee stand,  
Walk, sit, or live, or die at thy command.  Nar. 
'Tis Heaven to be thus part of one poor ●o●●  
To gaze and talk; alas, I ask no more.  
And yet methinks—  
If you and me the Emperor would 〈◊〉,  
Where you my company must needs endure,  
In some close prison for a year or so,  
I'd find such thousand ways my love to show,  
With thousand 〈…〉  
That you should say at last, she does deserve;  
Nay sigh perhaps, and as I weary lay  
Before your feet, with tears my labour pay.  Caes. 
O arm thy gentle bosom with disdain,  
And o'er thy heart a noble conquest gain  
Think me, alas, unworthy to receive,  
And the vast Present to some other give.  Nar. 
There is no reason why we love, nor how,  
Yet to the yoke we all submissive bow:  
With equal feet Love reads on Kings and Swains,  
Like death o'er every neck he casts his chains,  
He wakes in Thrones, and sleeps in stow●ie Plains.  Caes. 
Will you forgive me if I press to hear  
How Gloriana does 〈…〉  Nar. 
Yes, that's the beaut●●●● Thief th●● stole my ●ight,  
In whom your soul ignobly does delight  
For the blessed know, though she more beauteous be,  
In virtue she comes short, far short of me.  
Vile as she is, untrue to all her vows,  
Who now the Tyrant's proffered l●st allows.  Caes. 
O do not spot thy Virgin purity  
With such untruths, for one so lost as I.  
She vile! ungentle cruel as you are,  
Take heed, take heed, thou most injurious Fair,  
And speak no more, 〈…〉  
To have a spice of Caesar in your blood.  Nar. 
If there be truth in what the dying say,  
Who would suspected with no living stay  
By Heaven she is as 〈…〉  
And Caesar wholly does 〈…〉  
To banish 〈…〉  
And sleeps this night in 〈…〉 bed  Caes. 
Never such thundering shall my vengeance make,  
Though she were charmed she should no slumber take,  
Though she were sleep— sleep! were she death yet she should wake.  
I'll rouse her with the noise of all my wrongs;  
Furies shall call her with eternal tongues,  
False, false, forsworn:— But I unjust appear,  
And you more cruel than the Tyrant are;  
Cruel to add to such a mass of grief,  
And I unjust to give your words belief.  Nar. 
How! think me guilty of a Lie! O Heaven!  
Have I lived thus!— Yet may you be forgiven;  
I am unfit to live, and you to love,  
Let me to Death, and you to War remove;  
You cannot be too rude in Armour dressed,  
Since cruelty is there like fame professed,  
Like Love in Courts, it raves in every breast.  
Nor shall I need your Sword to make a wound,  
This last unkindness weigh me to the ground.  
O all ye vows of passion that I gave!  
Return and let me hide ye in the Grave.  Caes. 
Fall first ten millions such as I e'er ●ho●  
To any grief my folly murmured bow:  
Look up, thou eye o'th' World, why does the red  
That now adorned thy cheeks, appear so dead?  
What fatal Purple's this that shakes thy lip?  Nar. 
I'm adding one small grain to death's vast heap,  
Thy love, thy love hard hearted Caesar's Son;  
The poor accused Narcissa has undone.  
Methinks you are not now so lovely quite,  
Or else 'tis death that darkens thus my sight:  
Not to believe!— 'twas so unkind a part!  
There wanted only that to break my heart.  Caes. 
Believe! I swear I do, I will believe,  
And but for thee I will hereafter live;  
I'll tear that cruel Sorceress from my breast,  
And plant thee there of all my heart possessed:  
O do not die 〈…〉  
Exposed 〈…〉  
who'll earth will arm itself against my head,  
And all the damned torment me when I'm dead.  Nar. 
Ah soft repose, how sweetly now I rest,  
As if your bosom were with Roses dressed:  
Would you have been thus kind if I had lived?  Caes. 
Witness—  Nar. 
Nay now you shall not be believed  
O Gloriana, blessed above women, how  
Didst thou this heart to thy false beauty bow?  
I overheard her with the Emperor,  
'Tis dying truth, she loves you less than power.  
But I above the World, or that high bliss  
To which I hast— for my soul's lasting peace,  
Give me thy love;— no more.  Caes. 
My soul receive,  
Which thus infus'd shall a new being give,  
Breathe with my breath; and with my being live.  Nar. 
The mighty cordial does my senses cloy;  
I die like those that surfeit with vast joy:  
Had you such words some minutes sooner spoke,  
They'd fastened life, but now 'tis vain to speak,  
For what can hold us when our heart-strings break. dies.  Caes. 
Take me along, by Heaven I'll follow thee,  
But how, no Instrument of destiny?  
Heart, canst not break like hers?— how calm she went;  
But I 's too big, and must with fate be rent,  
Torn from my prisonhouse: why so it shall,  
I'll rush and leave my brains on yonder wall.  
die! 'tis most fit; yet ere the deed be wrought,  
Shall not the blood of Pompey know her fault?  
Yes, Gloriana, yes, thou murdering Fair,  
I'll hollow death and vengeance in thy ear;  
Rouse thee from Glory's grave with potent cries,  
Charmed like a naked Ghost compelled to rise.  Enter Marcellus. Mar. 
I bring thee hasty news, live, live, but fly.  Caes. 
News for thy news, look th●●e●●nd bid me die.  Mar. 
My Sister dead!  Caes. 
She parted from life's Tree  
Hard like Green-fruit, and she was plucked by me.  
Why dost thou bend her? life thou canst not mould;  
She is like Alabaster, fair but cold.  Mar. 
O barbarous Friend!— Friend! I the name disown,  
But 'tis thy blood that must her loss atone;  
Thy own cursed tongue which did her murder boast,  
Has sentenced thee to death;— for ever lost,  
die, Royal wretch.—  Caes. 
What does thy arm arrest?  
I have no Sword, and proffer thee my breast:  
Why dost thou turn thy melting eyes away?  
I am in haste for death, and cannot stay.  Mar. 
Thou art not yet so black but my quick sight,  
Through all thy shades can spy some streaks of light;  
Though bloody, thou art valiant, and I scorn  
To give base death to one so Nobly born:  
Thou shalt in equal Duel perish.  Caes. 
No,  
Thou wert my Friend, and canst not be my Foe.  
'Tis true, thy Sister died for love of me;  
Can mortals help what Heaven sets down shall be?  
Am I in fault? To thee I must be so;  
Then right thee here, 'twill prove a welcome blow.  Enter Julia. jul. 
Caesario, live! what means my fatal Lord?  
Is't possible that you can draw your Sword  
Against your Friend, that Friend whose life of late  
Our prayers redeemed from near approaching fate?  Mar. 
Look there, and blame the vengeance I should give;  
Is this a Friend? does he deserve to live?  
The horrid crime which he has done peruse,  
And then the justice of my rage excuse.  Caes. 
Something in this last treatment shows thee base;  
Thou call'st my crime, what my misfortune was:  
Should I have used thee thus, who wert to me  
A thousand times more dear than life could be?  jul. 
How e'er unfortunate, 'twas a dread deed,  
At such a sight my Father's eyes will bleed:  
Yet, Oh Marcellus! spare Caesario's life,  
'Tis due to Friendship, and your weeping Wife:  
Sorrow so noble paints his manly look,  
That to the heart I am with pity struck.  
Let his life's former acts this once persuade,  
For faults perhaps which his ill fortune made.  Mar. 
'Tis in the clouds what e'er it be, and why,  
But my heart says, by me he cannot die;  
But fly, be gone to some far desert, where  
Thou mayst with safety live, thou canst not here,  
For though we spare thee, Caesar will not spare.  jul. 
Go, go, Caesario, fly thy threatning fate,  
And fly from those thou mak'st unfortunate.  Caes. 
Wretch that I am, and terror to the Earth!  
Where, where is now th' advantage of my birth,  
But to be highly miserable? no,  
Marcellus, yet there's something left to do;  
Bring me, before we part for ever, where  
I may to Gloriana's guilt appear:  
By Heaven nor she nor Caesar shall be harmed,  
For I will go with nought but sorrow armed:  
By all remembrance of our Friendships past,  
Grant me this one request, for 'tis my last.  Mar. 
I will do this; go not that way, my eyes  
Grow sick, and clouds of death before me rise. Exeunt.   

SCENE, The Emperor's Bedchamber.  Gloriana sola, dressed in white with a Dagger in her hand, Tapers, etc. Glor. 
He dies, this Idol of the earth shall down;  
That brow that awed the World with every frown,  
This night shall bear its terrors to the Grave,  
There Great Augustus shall his Empire have.  
When he is dead, Marcellus must ascend,  
And to high safety call his noble Friend;  
To save my honour, and Caesario too,  
What more can Gloriana wish to do?  
O Love! how masculine are all my fires?  
With what dread thoughts the God my breast inspires?  
When like a Lion all composed to rest,  
The Tyrant leans upon my Virgin-breast,  
In golden dreams expecting boundless bliss,  
I'll rock him fast, for ever fast with this.  
But hark, he comes, I must my arm prepare,  
I'll to the Bed and wait his coming there.  Caesario enters, goes to the Bed, draws the Curtain, and gazes on her: she rises amazed. Glor. 
Who's this? am I awake, or do I see?  
Caesario here indeed, can this be he?  
If thou be Caesar's Son that did adore  
The blood of Pompey, speak, or love no more.  Caes. 
Love no more.  Glor. 
Why dost thou thus with frightful action gaze?  
Or art thou but the Ghost of him that was?  Caes. 
The Ghost of him that was.  Glor. 
Such by thy steadfast eyes thou wouldst appear,  
Thy dread replies unusual horror bear,  
Yet sure that form my soul can never fear.  
Who was thy murderer, if thou murdered be?  
By Caesar slain, or wert thou killed by the—  Caes. 
Killed by thee.  Glor. 
Cease, horrid echo, cease, and tell at large,  
What dost thou seek, what is it thou wouldst charge?  
Some dreadful business drives thy stormy mind,  
In Gloriana's breast a Haven find.  
Art thou distracted with thy mighty grief?  
Or wouldst thou gain from wretched me relief?  Caes. 
I came to seek for painted virtue here,  
For one exceeding false, exceeding fair;  
For one whose breast shone like a Silver cloud,  
But did a heart composed of Thunder shroud;  
For one more weeping than the face of Nile,  
Whose liquid Crystal hides the Crocodile;  
For one who like a God from Heaven did pour  
Rich rain, but lust was in the golden shower;  
For one who like Pandora beauteous flew,  
But a long train of curses with her drew;  
For one who like a Rock of Diamonds stood,  
But hemmed with death, and universal flood.  Glor. 
Did I not know you of the Noblest frame,  
I must confess you might the manner blame;  
Appearance would some jealous troubles raise,  
Respect the time, the posture, and the place:  
But trust me and retire.  Caes. 
Still worse;— Retire,  
And leave thee here to roll in sinful fire,  
Like a fair Glutton gorging vast desire!  
O Appetite of Angels! such with awe  
Thou didst appear when first thy form I saw:  
Glory came down, and Beauty hovered there,  
But fleeting as the bosom of the Air;  
Air not more wished, nor easier had than thou;  
Air which the Gods to men and brutes allow.  Glor. 
Have I deserved this? but you may go on,  
My faith will better by your guilt be shown.  Caes. 
'Tis true, the dress of innocence you have,  
You look as you were going to a Grave;  
Prepared to crumble into Rosy dust,  
To meet a Tomb, and not the Bed of lust:  
Such Heaven is in your face all clean and white,  
Like Goddesses in flesh, so clear to sight;  
But 'tis not fit I tell what's lodged within,  
How full thy bosom is of foulest sin.  Glor. 
Speak, for I am prepared the worst to hear.  Caes. 
O such a heart thou hast that lodges there,  
It all things deadly and perverse does will;  
So in bright Palaces black Tyrants kill:  
So mortal damps are hid in golden Mines,  
And depraved spirits lurk in Sacred shrines.  Glor. 
Have you done yet?  Caes. 
The ills that thou hast done,  
Will like the Steeds of Night for ever run,  
Furies still lashing on;— for thee, ingrate,  
I was the cause of dead Narcissa's fate.  Glor. 
O heavens'!  Caes. 
'Twas love of thee that urged her doom;  
Thou thoughtst thy perjury should never come  
To these deluded ears, but 'twas from her  
I learned how excellently false you were:  
But I fond fool would not believe, till she  
By death confirmed thy matchless treachery.  Glor. 
I seemed indeed with Caesar to consent,  
But 'twas to give him fatal punishment;  
To end his Tyrannies with one great blow,  
Which all your rage in vain essayed to do.  
For this I leaned on the Imperial Bed,  
Deeply resolved with this to strike him dead;  
For this I urged you to retire at first,  
'Tis true, or may I be for ever cursed.  Caes. 
I know, I know you cannot want excuse,  
The fair are still most witty in abuse;  
But I am armed, with demonstration armed,  
And will no more with beauty's wounds be harmed:  
Did not the dying speak it? perfect proof;  
I heard, I've seen, by Heaven there is enough:  
I will be deaf as winds when Seamen pray,  
And sweep as furious and as swift as they.  Glor. 
Yet cruel turn.  Caes. 
By all the Gods I'll not,  
I am resolved, and will no more be caught:  
Thus turning from thee, thus I lose the sight  
Of all I ever loved; I'll take my flight  
Beyond the Scythian hills, where horrid care  
With her cold sighs chills all the neighbouring air;  
Freezes life's heat, and binds the springing blood,  
Where mirth and joy are words not understood;  
Where thousand sorrows shoot along the glades,  
And melancholy sits in mighty shades;  
Thither I'll fly, and darken all the place,  
And with new clouds the solemn mourner's grace;  
With floods of tears I 'le wash the stains of Love,  
And rise all Caesar to the Thrones above.  Glor. 
Be gone, to death, to death Caesario fly,  
Or if you fear, I'll teach you how to die:  
I'll be your guide in your dark course, and show  
The way to Heaven, which sure you do not know:  
I'll imp your pennons, when they flag with guilt,  
And rest you on some clouds embroidered quilt:  
Chide your suspicions as you weeping sit,  
Yet pardon all the faults you did commit.  
Thou wilt believe me true when I am dead,  
And death will free me from the Tyrant's bed:  
Turn then, behold the offering which I make,  
The last of Pompey dying for thy sake.  Caes. 
Hold, Gloriana, desperate murdering Fair!  
Thus, is it thus thou wouldst thy honour clear?  
Each drop that falls will to an Ocean swell,  
To swallow me; (who can the horror tell!)  
I drown, I'm sunk beneath the depths of Hell.  
But I'll not speak to thee, my breath's so foul,  
That every poisonous word will blast thy soul.  Glor. 
Ah cruel kind! I can but lose thee now,  
And death's less dreadful than thy angry brow;  
The dreadful Scene was so severely wrought,  
Except I died, I must be guilty thought:  
But I'll no more the crime of fate upbraid,  
Wipe thy bathed eyes, and raise thy drooping head,  
Alas, we were not for each other made.  Caes. 
Night! everlasting Night!— Oh!  Glor. 
Do not grieve;—  
With my last breath pardon and love receive.  
Support me:—  Caes. 
Firmer than old Atlas stands,  
And prop a Richer Heaven with Mortal hands.  Glor. 
Take me secured from past and future harms,  
Bowed to thy neck, and sinking in thy arms:  
I go the long dark way,—  Caes. 
Not yet.  Glor. 
Farewell. dies.  Caes. 
Back, thou departing life, back to thy Cell,  
Her heart in Heaven thou canst not sweeter dwell;  
Move the still pulse, and thaw each frozen vein;  
Return, I say, I'll force thee back again;  
Catch the bare soul just plunging into bliss,  
And give it back with this fast deathless kiss.  Enter Augustus in his Nightgown. Aug. 
Thus when the Royal Eagle stoops to pair,  
With a delib'rate wing he beats the air;  
Views all the Queens of his Heroic Race,  
To judge whose eyes deserve Imperial grace:  
But having chose aloft his Empress, bears  
To kiss Jove's feet, and know her kindred Stars:  
So shall my Mistress sit enthroned above,  
First share my Glory, and then taste my Love.  
Ha! who are thou? my Rival armed! who waits?  
Caesar's betrayed.—  Enter Maecenas and Guards. Caes. 
Call the opposing fates,  
With all the Forces of the fighting Earth,  
For I would perish as becomes my birth.  Aug. 
How cam'st thou here?  Caes. 
I will not tell thee how,  
Should the Gods ask, I have not leisure now:  
But more to blow thy hate, and on disdain  
Pile burning Rage, behold thy Mistress slain.  
Now give me death.—  Aug. 
Death! thou hast nothing named,  
Thou shalt be racked an Age, and then be damned.  
Oh Gloriana, bright unhappy Fair!  
But shall revenge be wanting to despair?  
Kill him, he dies though Caesar should come down,  
And for his life with sacred sighs atone.  Caes. 
I thank thee, mighty Rival:—  
Yet ere my Ghost puts on her Airy shroud,  
Behold I kneel, who ne'er to man yet bowed,  
And beg that when the fatal fires conveyed,  
By which this body must be Ashes made,  
Some of my dust, as a more generous doom,  
May be enclosed in Gloriana's Tomb.  Aug. 
Thou cravest those honours that my envy move,  
Yet I'll be just to Glory as to Love;  
Thou shalt not vainly kneel, I will comply  
With your desires, Caesario rise and die.  Caes. 
This act of virtue, though so lately shewn,  
Will in oblivion all your vices drown:  
Now Guards your mighty Master's will obey,  
Aimed at my heart your pointed weapons lay;  
With all your Spears my body thus enclose,  
And let me set in Glory as I rose.  Aug. 
The fate he claims my justice has decreed,  
And though I turn me from the bidden deed,  
Yet for the Empire's safety he must bleed.  Fight. Caes. 
Thus fell my Father, thus encompassed round,  
And bore beneath him Glory to the ground;  
With the remains of life I'll drag me on,  
And at thy knees for ever lay me down.  
Oh happiness! Oh pleasure in death's pangs!  
My hover soul o'er thy loved sweetness hangs:  
I'll grasp her all, and Love shall last be mine;  
Give me but this, Caesar, the world is thine. dies.  Enter Agrippa. Agr. 
Heaven! Caesar, Guard!  Aug. 
Oh my Agrippa, see,  
Behold the malice of my destiny;  
Terrible death which I so often braved,  
With this last vizard has the Victor scared.  Agr. 
Yet by the fall of Love Empire's acquired,  
Since with your Mistress Caesar's Son expired.  Mec. 
Thus when th' immortals take, they greatly give,  
And bribe your big affronted heart to live.  Aug. 
But all Earth's Kingdoms cannot equal weigh,  
With the vast sums Love in the Scale did lay:  
Thus the great Governors return me Brass  
For Gold; and for my Diamonds, barter Glass.  
By this time I had been in bed in Heaven,  
And o'er their heads with towering pleasures driven.  Enter Tiberius. Tib. 
Yet fortify your mind, dread Sir, and hear  
What none but I durst offer to your ear,  
Fate by Narcissa's loss more spite has shown,  
And sudden death has robbed you of a Son.  Aug. 
Ha!  Tib. 
Marcellus stayed by julia from the ground,  
Sunk in her arms, and died without a wound:  
Stretched on his limbs the Princess lies all pale,  
And soon will perish except you prevail.  Agr. 
We must submit to the Divine commands.  Aug. 
No, I'll not take a blow more at their hands:  
Raise me a Funeral Pile, and round me mourn,  
For 'tis resolved like Hercules I 'le bourn.  
Grief mortal as his poisoned shirt sticks fast,  
And now I wish that my last hour were passed;  
That my immortal honours were begun,  
I'll die, I'll set this Evening with the Sun.  
Summon the Earth, wronged Livia's Son proclaim  
My Caesar, and to Heaven resound his name.  Tib. 
For me 'twere vanity to make reply,  
Yet in Augustus' quarrel I dare die;  
And almost wish the World might once rebel,  
That I might reap the fame your Foes to quell:  
But you already awe the Nations round,  
And at your nod bowed Sceptres touch the ground.  Aug. 
Small are the thanks I owe the powers above  
For all the Nations that beneath me move:  
As severe Masters ply their early charge,  
Yet their vexed spirits at set times enlarge,  
Some few short airy joys in Fields to find,  
And for worse hardship bait the wearied mind;  
So Heaven abroad with Conquest crowns my Wars,  
But wracks my spirit with domestic jars.    
The End of the Play.   

EPILOGUE TO THE Court of Augustus Caesar. Spoken by Mr. Haynes.  
YOur Servant, Gentlemen: 'tis a long time  
Since I had th' honour to converse with you in Rhyme;  
They told me at t'other House y' had left us quite,  
And I was going to hang myself out-right,  
But for the hopes of pleasing you to Night:  
For what's insipid life to them or me,  
Without the favour of your Company?  
Good Faith I'm very glad to see you here,  
'Tis well you can at a New Play appear:  
This Winter you forsaking all the Old,  
Kept up one while of a damned Pocky Cold;  
Some few came here, but who, the Lord can tell,  
All were shrunk up like Snails within their shell;  
Huge Brandenburg had so disguised each one,  
That from your Coachman you could scarce be known;  
And than you drooped as if half-drowned you came  
Scaped from North-Holland or from Amsterdam;  
And Coughed, Heaven save you! with as grave a motion,  
As you had been at Church, where 'tis Devotion.  
The Ladies too neglecting every Grace,  
Mobed up in Night-cloaths came with Lace to face,  
The Tower upon the Forehead all turned back,  
And stuck with Pins like th' Man i'th' almanacs.  
The Misses, those delights of humane kind,  
No longer in their dear Side-boxes shined,  
But each to Chamber-practice did retire,  
With Ale and Apples, and a Sea-coal fire:  
Now this misfortune we by yours have found,  
Your Cold 〈…〉 us though you are ●ound  
But Sirs, what makes it now so hard I pray.  
To get you here but just at a Now Play?  
We've Played t' oblige you all that's in our powers,  
We've played and Played ourselves e'en out of doors,  
And yet we cannot find 〈…〉  
You're grown so nice, I think the Devil's in ye.  
But hold, there's one way yet to get your praise,  
Ill treating you your appetites ●ay raise,  
Libels and Lampoons we for Plays must write,  
Critics like Lover's paled with their delights  
Always esteem those kisses best that bite.  
We'll deal with you, Gallants, in your own way,  
And treat you like those Punks that Love for pay;  
Cartwright and I dressed like two thundering Whores,  
With Rods will stand behind the Playhouse doors,  
And firk you up each day to pleasure duly.  
As Jenny Cromwell does, or ●etty July.  
FINIS.