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The False One Part 15

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_Enter (severally)_ Arsino, Eros, Cleopatra.

_Ars._ We are lost.

_Eros_. Undone.

_Ars._ Confusion, Fire, and Swords, And fury in the Souldiers face more horrid Circle us round.

_Eros_. The Kings Command they laugh at, And jeer at _Caesars_ threats.



_Ars._ My Brother seiz'd on By the _Roman_, as thought guilty of the tumult, And forc'd to bear him company, as mark'd out For his protection or revenge.

_Eros_. They have broke Into my Cabinet; my Trunks are ransack'd.

_Ars._ I have lost my jewels too: but that's the least: The barbarous Rascals, against all humanity, Or sense of pity, have kill'd my little Dog, And broke my Monkeys Chain.

_Eros_. They rifled me: But that I could endure, would they proceed no further.

_Ars._ O my Sister!

_Eros_. My Queen, my Mistress!

_Ars._ Can you stand unmov'd When the Earth-quake of Rebellion shakes the City, And the Court trembles?

_Cleo._ Yes, _Arsino_, And with a Masculine Constancy deride Fortunes worst malice, as a Servant to My Vertues, not a Mistress; then we forsake The strong Fort of our selves, when we once yield, Or shrink at her a.s.saults; I am still my self, And though disrob'd of Soveraignty, and ravish'd Of ceremonious duty, that attends it, Nay, grant they had slav'd my Body, my free mind Like to the Palm-tree walling fruitful _Nile_, Shall grow up straighter and enlarge it self 'Spight of the envious weight that loads it with: Think of thy Birth (_Arsino_) common burdens Fit common Shoulders; teach the mult.i.tude By suffering n.o.bly what they fear to touch at; The greatness of thy mind does soar a pitch, Their dim eyes (darkened by their narrow souls) Cannot arrive at.

_Ars._ I am new created, And owe this second being to you (best Sister) For now I feel you have infus'd into me Part of your fort.i.tude.

_Eros_. I still am fearful; I dare not tell a lie; you that were born Daughters and Sisters unto Kings, may nourish Great thoughts, which I, that am your humble handmaid Must not presume to rival.

_Cleo._ Yet (my _Eros_) Though thou hast profited nothing by observing The whole course of my life, learn in my death, Though not to equal, yet to imitate Thy fearless Mistress.

_Enter_ Photinus.

_Eros_. O, a man in Arms!

His Weapon drawn too?

_Cleo._ Though upon the point Death sate, I'll meet it, and outdare the danger.

_Pho._ Keep the Watch strong, and guard the pa.s.sage sure That leads unto the Sea.

_Cleo._ What Sea of rudeness Breaks in upon us? or what Subjects Breath Dare raise a storm, when we command a calm?

Are Duty and Obedience fled to Heaven?

And in their room ambition and pride Sent into _Egypt_? That Face speaks thee, _Photinus_, A thing thy Mother brought into the World; My Brother's and my Slave: but thy behaviour, Oppos'd to that, an insolent intruder Upon that Soveraignty thou shouldst bow to.

If in the Gulph of base ingrat.i.tude, All loyalty to _Ptolomy_ the King Be swallowed up, remember who I am, Whose Daughter and whose Sister; or suppose That is forgot too; let the name of _Caesar_ Which Nations quake at, stop the desperate madness From running headlong on to thy Confusion.

Throw from thee quickly those rebellious Arms, And let me read submission in thine Eyes; Thy wrongs to us we will not only pardon, But be a ready advocate to plead for thee To _Caesar_, and my Brother.

_Pho._ Plead my Pardon?

To you I bow, but scorn as much to stoop thus To _Ptolomy_ or _Caesar_, Nay, the G.o.ds, As to put off the figure of a man, And change my Essence with a sensual Beast; All my designs, my counsels, and dark ends Were aim'd to purchase you.

_Cleo._ How durst thou, being The scorn of baseness, nourish such a thought?

_Pho._ They that have power are royal; and those base That live at the devotion of another.

What birth gave _Ptolomy_, or fortune _Caesar_, By Engines fashion'd in this _Protean_ Anvil I have made mine; and only stoop at you, Whom I would still preserve free to command me; For _Caesar's_ frowns, they are below my thoughts, And but in these fair Eyes I still have read The story of a supream Monarchy, To which all hearts with mine gladly pay tribute, _Photinus's_ Name had long since been as great As _Ptolomies_ e'r was, or _Caesars_ is, This made me as a weaker tye to unloose The knot of Loyalty, that chain'd my freedom, And slight the fear that _Caesars_ threats might cause, That I and they might see no Sun appear But _Cleopatra_ in the _Egyptian_ Sphear.

_Cleo._ O Giant-like Ambition! marryed to _Cymmerian_ darkness! inconsiderate Fool, (Though flatter'd with self-love) could'st thou believe, Were all Crowns on the Earth made into one, And that (by Kings) set on thy head; all Scepters, Within thy grasp, and laid down at my feet, I would vouchsafe a kiss to a no-man?

A guelded Eunuch?

_Pho._ Fairest, that makes for me, And shews it is no sensual appet.i.te, But true love to the greatness of thy Spirit, That when that you are mine shall yield me pleasures, _Hymen_, though blessing a new married Pair Shall blush to think on, and our certain issue, The glorious splendor of dread Majesty, Whose beams shall dazel _Rome_, and aw the world, My wants in that kind others shall supply, And I give way to it.

_Cleo._ Baser than thy Birth; Can there be G.o.ds, and hear this, and no thunder Ram thee into the Earth?

_Pho._ They are asleep, And cannot hear thee; Or with open Eyes, Did _Jove_ look on us, I would laugh and swear That his artillery is cloy'd by me: Or if that they have power to hurt, his Bolts Are in my hand.

_Cleo._ Most impious!

_Pho._ They are dreams, Religious Fools shake at: yet to a.s.sure thee, If _Nemesis_, that scourges pride and scorn, Be any thing but a name, she lives in me; For by my self (an oath to me more dreadful Than _Stix_ is to your G.o.ds) weak _Ptolomy_ dead, And _Caesar_ (both being in my toil) remov'd, The poorest Rascals that are in my Camp Shall in my presence quench their l.u.s.tful heat In thee, and young _Arsino_, while I laugh To hear you howl in vain: I deride those G.o.ds, That you think can protect you.

_Cleo._ To prevent thee, In that I am the Mistress of my Fate; So hope I of my sister to confirm it.

I spit at thee, and scorn thee.

_Pho._ I will tame That haughty courage, and make thee stoop too.

_Cleo._ Never, I was born to command, and will dye so.

_Enter_ Achillas, _and Souldiers, with the Body of_ Ptolomy.

_Pho._ The King dead? this is a fair entrance to Our future happiness.

_Ars._ Oh my dear Brother!

_Cleo._ Weep not, _Arsino_, common women do so, Nor lose a tear for him, it cannot help him; But study to dye n.o.bly.

_Pho._ _Caesar_ fled!

'Tis deadly aconite to my cold heart, It choaks my vital Spirits: where was your care?

Did the Guards sleep?

_Achil._ He rowz'd them with his Sword; We talk of _Mars_, but I am sure his Courage Admits of no comparison but it self, And (as inspir'd by him) his following friends With such a confidence as young Eagles prey Under the large wing of their fiercer Dam, Brake through our Troops and scatter'd them, he went on But still pursu'd by us, when on the sudden, He turn'd his head, and from his Eyes flew terrour; Which strook in us no less fear and amazement, Than if we had encounter'd with the lightning Hurl'd from _Jove's_ cloudy Brow.

_Cleo._ 'Twas like my _Caesar_.

_Achil._ We faln back, he made on, and as our fear Had parted from us with his dreadful looks, Again we follow'd; but got near the Sea; On which his Navy anchor'd; in one hand Holding a Scroll he had above the waves, And in the other grasping fast his Sword, As it had been a Trident forg'd by _Vulcan_ To calm the raging Ocean, he made away As if he had been _Neptune_, his friends like So many _Tritons_ follow'd, their bold shouts Yielding a chearful musick; we showr'd darts Upon them, but in vain, they reach'd their ships And in their safety we are sunk; for _Caesar_ Prepares for War.

_Pho._ How fell the King?

_Achil._ Unable To follow _Caesar_, he was trod to death By the Pursuers, and with him the Priest Of _Isis_, good _Ach.o.r.eus_.

_Ars._ May the Earth Lye gently on their ashes.

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The False One Part 15 summary

You're reading The False One. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher. Already has 640 views.

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