The False One Part 2

_Eros._ Yes, for in truth She touch'd no bed to night.

_Apol._ I am sorry for it, And wish it were in me, with my hazard, To give her ease.

_Ars._ Sir, she accepts your will, And does acknowledge she hath found you n.o.ble, So far, as if restraint of liberty Could give admission to a thought of mirth, She is your debtor for it.

_Apol._ Did you tell her Of the sports I have prepar'd to entertain her?

She was us'd to take delight, with her fair hand, To angle in the _Nile_, where the glad fish (As if they knew who 'twas sought to deceive 'em) Contended to be taken: other times To strike the Stag, who wounded by her arrows, Forgot his tears in death, and kneeling thanks her To his last gasp, then prouder of his Fate, Than if with Garlands Crown'd, he had been chosen To fall a Sacrifice before the altar Of the Virgin Huntress: the King, nor great _Photinus_ Forbid her any pleasure; and the Circuit In which she is confin'd, gladly affords Variety of pastimes, which I would Encrease with my best service.

_Eros._ O, but the thought That she that was born free, and to dispense Restraint, or liberty to others, should be At the devotion of her Brother, whom She only knows her equal, makes this place In which she lives (though stor'd with all delights) A loathsome dungeon to her.

_Apol._ Yet, (howe're She shall interpret it) I'le not be wanting To do my best to serve her: I have prepar'd Choise Musick near her Cabinet, and compos'd Some few lines, (set unto a solemn time) In the praise of imprisonment. Begin Boy.

THE SONG.

_Look out bright eyes, and bless the air:_ _Even in shadows you are fair._ _Shut-up-beauty is like fire,_ _That breaks out clearer still and higher._ _Though your body be confin'd,_ _And soft Love a prisoner bound,_ _Yet the beauty of your mind_ _Neither check, nor chain hath found._ _Look out n.o.bly then, and dare_ _Even the Fetters that you wear._

_Enter_ Cleopatra.

_Cleo._ But that we are a.s.sur'd this tastes of duty, And love in you, my _Guardian_, and desire In you, my _Sister_, and the rest, to please us, We should receive this, as a sawcy rudeness Offer'd our private thoughts. But your intents Are to delight us: alas, you wash an _Ethiop_: Can _Cleopatra_, while she does remember Whose Daughter she is, and whose Sister? (O I suffer in the name) and that (in Justice) There is no place in _aegypt_, where I stand, But that the tributary Earth is proud To kiss the foot of her, that is her Queen, Can she, I say, that is all this, e're relish Of comfort, or delight, while base _Photinus_, Bond-man _Achillas_, and all other monsters That raign o're _Ptolomy_, make that a Court, Where they reside, and this, where I, a Prison?

But there's a _Rome_, a _Senate_, and a _Caesar_, (Though the great _Pompey_ lean to _Ptolomy_) May think of _Cleopatra_.

_Ap._ _Pompey_, Madam?

_Cleo._ What of him? speak: if ill, _Apollodorus_, It is my happiness: and for thy news Receive a favour (_Kings_ have kneel'd in vain for) And kiss my hand.

_Ap._ He's lost.

_Cleo._ Speak it again!

_Ap._ His army routed: he fled and pursu'd By the all-conquering Caesar.

_Cleo._ Whither bends he?

_Ap._ To _Egypt_.

_Cleo._ Ha! in person?

_Ap._ 'Tis receiv'd For an undoubted truth.

_Cleo._ I live again, And if a.s.surance of my love, and beauty Deceive me not, I now shall find a Judge To do me right: but how to free my self, And get access? the _Guards_ are strong upon me, This door I must pa.s.s through. _Apollodorus_, Thou often hast profess'd (to do me service,) Thy life was not thine own.

_Ap._ I am not alter'd; And let your excellency propound a means, In which I may but give the least a.s.sistance, That may restore you, to that you were born to, (Though it call on the anger of the King, Or, (what's more deadly) all his Minion _Photinus_ can do to me) I, unmov'd, Offer my throat to serve you: ever provided, It bear some probable shew to be effected.

To lose my self upon no ground, were madness, Not loyal duty.

_Cleo._ Stand off: to thee alone, I will discover what I dare not trust My Sister with, _Caesar_ is amorous, And taken more with the t.i.tle of a Queen, Than feature or proportion, he lov'd _Eunoe_, A _Moor_, deformed too, I have heard, that brought No other object to inflame his blood, But that her Husband was a King, on both He did bestow rich presents; shall I then, That with a princely birth, bring beauty with me, That know to prize my self at mine own rate, Despair his favour? art thou mine?

_Ap._ I am.

_Cleo._ I have found out a way shall bring me to him, Spight of _Photinus_ watches; if I prosper, (As I am confident I shall) expect Things greater than thy wishes; though I purchase His grace with loss of my virginity, It skills not, if it bring home Majesty. [_Exeunt._

_ACTUS SECUNDUS. SCENA PRIMA._

_Enter_ Septimius, _with a head_, Achillas, _Guard._

_Sep._ 'Tis here, 'tis done, behold you fearfull viewers, Shake, and behold the model of the world here, The pride, and strength, look, look again, 'tis finish'd; That, that whole Armies, nay whole nations, Many and mighty Kings, have been struck blind at, And fled before, wing'd with their fears and terrours, That steel war waited on, and fortune courted, That high plum'd honour built up for her own; Behold that mightiness, behold that fierceness, Behold that child of war, with all his glories; By this poor hand made breathless, here (my _Achillas_) _Egypt_, and _Caesar_, owe me for this service, And all the conquer'd Nations.

_Ach._ Peace _Septimius_, Thy words sound more ungratefull than thy actions, Though sometimes safety seek an instrument Of thy unworthy nature, thou (loud boaster) Think not she is bound to love him too, that's barbarous.

Why did not I, if this be meritorious, And binds the King unto me, and his bounties, Strike this rude stroke? I'le tell thee (thou poor _Roman_) It was a sacred head, I durst not heave at, Not heave a thought.

_Sep._ It was.

_Ach._ I'le tell thee truely, And if thou ever yet heard'st tell of honour, I'le make thee blush: It was thy General's; That mans that fed thee once, that mans that bred thee, The air thou breath'dst was his; the fire that warm'd thee, From his care kindled ever, nay, I'le show thee, (Because I'le make thee sensible of the business, And why a n.o.ble man durst not touch at it) There was no piece of Earth, thou putst thy foot on But was his conquest; and he gave thee motion.

He triumph'd three times, who durst touch his person?

The very walls of _Rome_ bow'd to his presence, Dear to the G.o.ds he was, to them that fear'd him A fair and n.o.ble Enemy. Didst thou hate him?

And for thy love to _Caesar_, sought his ruine?

Arm'd in the red _Pharsalian_ fields, _Septimius_, Where killing was in grace, and wounds were glorious, Where Kings were fair compet.i.tours for honour, Thou shouldst have come up to him, there have fought him, There, Sword to Sword.

_Sep._ I kill'd him on commandment, If Kings commands be fair, when you all fainted, When none of you durst look--

_Ach._ On deeds so barbarous, What hast thou got?

_Sep._ The Kings love, and his bounty, The honour of the service, which though you rail at, Or a thousand envious souls fling their foams on me, Will dignifie the cause, and make me glorious: And I shall live.

_Ach._ A miserable villain, What reputation, and reward belongs to it Thus (with the head) I seize on, and make mine; And be not impudent to ask me why, Sirrah, Nor bold to stay, read in mine eyes the reason: The shame and obloquy I leave thine own, Inherit those rewards, they are fitter for thee, Your oyl's spent, and your snuff stinks: go out basely.

[_Exit._

_Sep._ The King will yet consider.

_Enter_ Ptolomy, Ach.o.r.eus, Photinus.

_Achil._ Here he comes Sir.

_Ach._ Yet if it be undone: hear me great Sir, If this inhumane stroak be yet unstrucken, If that adored head be not yet sever'd From the most n.o.ble Body, weigh the miseries, The desolations that this great Eclipse works, You are young, be provident: fix not your Empire Upon the Tomb of him will shake all _Egypt_, Whose warlike groans will raise ten thousand Spirits, (Great as himself) in every hand a thunder; Destructions darting from their looks, and sorrows That easy womens eyes shall never empty.

_Pho._ You have done well; and 'tis done, see _Achillas_, And in his hand the head.

_Ptol._ Stay come no nearer, Me thinks I feel the very earth shake under me, I do remember him, he was my guardian, Appointed by the Senate to preserve me: What a full Majesty sits in his face yet?

_Pho._ The King is troubled: be not frighted Sir, Be not abus'd with fears; his death was necessary, If you consider, Sir, most necessary, Not to be miss'd: and humbly thank great _Isis_, He came so opportunely to your hands; Pity must now give place to rules of safety.

Is not victorious _Caesar_ new arriv'd, And enter'd _Alexandria_, with his friends, His _Navy_ riding by to wait his charges?

Did he not beat this _Pompey_, and pursu'd him?

Was not this great man, his great enemy?

This G.o.dlike vertuous man, as people held him, But what fool dare be friend to flying vertue?

_Enter_ Caesar, Anthony, Dolabella, Sceva.