Cat. Sen.My Sonne thou seest howe all are ouerthrowne,That fought their Countries free-dome to maintaine,Egiptforsakes vs,Pompeyfound his graue,1040VVhere hee most succor did expect to haue:Scipiois ouerthrowne and with his haples fall,Affrickto vs doth former ayde denay,O who will helpe men in aduersity:Yet let vs shewe in our declining state,That strength of minde, that vertues constancy,That erst we did in our felicity,Though Fortune fayles vs lets not fayle our selues,Remember boy thou art aRomaineborne,AndCatoesSonne, of me do vertuelearne;1050Fortune of others, abouealthingsseeThou prize thy Countries loue and liberty,AllblessiingsFathers to their Sonnes can wishHeauens powre on thee, and now my sonne with-draweThy selfe a while and leaue me to my booke.Cat. Iun.What meanes my Father by this solemne leaue?First he remembred me of my Fortunes change,And then more earnestly did me exhortToCounrriesloue, and constancy of minde,Then he was wont: som-whats the cause,1060But what I knowe not, O I feare I feare,His to couragious heart that cannot beareThe thrall ofRomeand triumph of his foe,By his owne hand threats danger to his life,How ere it be at hand I will abide,VVayting the end of this that shal betide.Exit.
Cat. Sen.My Sonne thou seest howe all are ouerthrowne,That fought their Countries free-dome to maintaine,Egiptforsakes vs,Pompeyfound his graue,1040VVhere hee most succor did expect to haue:Scipiois ouerthrowne and with his haples fall,Affrickto vs doth former ayde denay,O who will helpe men in aduersity:Yet let vs shewe in our declining state,That strength of minde, that vertues constancy,That erst we did in our felicity,Though Fortune fayles vs lets not fayle our selues,Remember boy thou art aRomaineborne,AndCatoesSonne, of me do vertuelearne;1050Fortune of others, abouealthingsseeThou prize thy Countries loue and liberty,AllblessiingsFathers to their Sonnes can wishHeauens powre on thee, and now my sonne with-draweThy selfe a while and leaue me to my booke.Cat. Iun.What meanes my Father by this solemne leaue?First he remembred me of my Fortunes change,And then more earnestly did me exhortToCounrriesloue, and constancy of minde,Then he was wont: som-whats the cause,1060But what I knowe not, O I feare I feare,His to couragious heart that cannot beareThe thrall ofRomeand triumph of his foe,By his owne hand threats danger to his life,How ere it be at hand I will abide,VVayting the end of this that shal betide.Exit.
Cato Senior with a booke in his hand.
Cato Sen.Platothat promised immortality,Doth make my soule resolue it selfe to mount,Vnto the bowre of those Celestiall ioyes,1070VVhere freed from lothed Prison of my soule,In heauenly notes toPhœbuswhich shall sing:AndPean Io, Peanloudely ring.Then fayle not hand to execute this deede,Nor faintnorheart for to command my hand,VVauer not minde to counsell this resolue,But with a courage and thy liues last act,Now do I giue theeRomemy last farewell.Who cause thou fearest ill do therefore die,O talke not now ofCannasouerthrowe,1080And raze out of thy lasting Kalenders,Those bloudy songes ofHiliasdismallsight:And note with black, that black and cursed day,WhenCæsarconquered inPharsalia,Yet will not I his conquest glorifie:My ouerthrow shall neere his triumph grace,For by my death to the world Ile make that knowne,No hand could conquerCatobut his owne.stabs himself.
Cato Sen.Platothat promised immortality,Doth make my soule resolue it selfe to mount,Vnto the bowre of those Celestiall ioyes,1070VVhere freed from lothed Prison of my soule,In heauenly notes toPhœbuswhich shall sing:AndPean Io, Peanloudely ring.Then fayle not hand to execute this deede,Nor faintnorheart for to command my hand,VVauer not minde to counsell this resolue,But with a courage and thy liues last act,Now do I giue theeRomemy last farewell.Who cause thou fearest ill do therefore die,O talke not now ofCannasouerthrowe,1080And raze out of thy lasting Kalenders,Those bloudy songes ofHiliasdismallsight:And note with black, that black and cursed day,WhenCæsarconquered inPharsalia,Yet will not I his conquest glorifie:My ouerthrow shall neere his triumph grace,For by my death to the world Ile make that knowne,No hand could conquerCatobut his owne.stabs himself.
Enter Cato Iunior running to him.
Ca. Iun.O this it was my minde told me before,1090VVhat meanes my Father, why with naked blade,Dost thou assault, that faithfull princely hand:And mak’st the base Earth to drinke thy Noble bloud,Bee not more sterne, and cruell ’gainst thy selfe,Then thy most hateful enemies would be,NoParthian,Gaule,Moore, no notCæsarsselfe,VVould with such cruelty thy worth repay,O stay thy hand, giue me thy fatall blade:VVhich turnes his edge and waxeth blunt to wound,A brest so fraught with vertue excellent.1100Ca. Seni.Why dost thou let me of my firme resolue,Vnkinde boy hinderer of thy Fathers ioy,Why dost thouslayme, or wilt thou betrayThy Fathers life vnto his foe-mens hands,And yet I wrong thy faith, and loue too much,In thy soules kindenesse, tis thou art vnkinde.Cat. Iun.If for your selfe you do this life reiect,Yet you your Sonnes andCountries:sake respect,Rob not my yong yeares of so sweete a stay,Nor take fromRomethe Pillor of her strength.1110Cat.Sene.Although I die, yet do I leaue behinde,My vertues fauor to bee thy youths guide:But for my Country, could my life it profit,Ile not refuse to liue that died for it,Now doth but one smal snuffe of breath remaine:And that to keepe, should I mine Honor staine?Cat. Iuni.Where you do striue to shew your vertue most,There more you do disgraceitCowardsvse,To shun the woes and trobles of this life:Basely to flie to deaths safe sanctuary,1120When constantvertuesdoth the hottestbrunt’s,Of griefes assaultes vnto the end endure.Ca. Seni.Thy words preuaile, come lift me vp my Son,And call some help to binde my bleeding wounds.Cat. Iuni.Father I go with a more willing minde,Then didÆneaswhen fromTroyanfire,He bare his Father, and did so restore:The greatest gift hee had receiued before.Exit.Cat. Seni.Now haue I freed mee of that hurtfull Loue,Which interrupted my resolued will,1130Which all the world can neuer stay nor change:Cæsarwhose rule commands both Sea and Land,Is not of powre to hinder this weake hand,And time succeeding shall behold that IAlthough not liue, yet died courragiously,stab himselfe.
Ca. Iun.O this it was my minde told me before,1090VVhat meanes my Father, why with naked blade,Dost thou assault, that faithfull princely hand:And mak’st the base Earth to drinke thy Noble bloud,Bee not more sterne, and cruell ’gainst thy selfe,Then thy most hateful enemies would be,NoParthian,Gaule,Moore, no notCæsarsselfe,VVould with such cruelty thy worth repay,O stay thy hand, giue me thy fatall blade:VVhich turnes his edge and waxeth blunt to wound,A brest so fraught with vertue excellent.1100Ca. Seni.Why dost thou let me of my firme resolue,Vnkinde boy hinderer of thy Fathers ioy,Why dost thouslayme, or wilt thou betrayThy Fathers life vnto his foe-mens hands,And yet I wrong thy faith, and loue too much,In thy soules kindenesse, tis thou art vnkinde.Cat. Iun.If for your selfe you do this life reiect,Yet you your Sonnes andCountries:sake respect,Rob not my yong yeares of so sweete a stay,Nor take fromRomethe Pillor of her strength.1110Cat.Sene.Although I die, yet do I leaue behinde,My vertues fauor to bee thy youths guide:But for my Country, could my life it profit,Ile not refuse to liue that died for it,Now doth but one smal snuffe of breath remaine:And that to keepe, should I mine Honor staine?Cat. Iuni.Where you do striue to shew your vertue most,There more you do disgraceitCowardsvse,To shun the woes and trobles of this life:Basely to flie to deaths safe sanctuary,1120When constantvertuesdoth the hottestbrunt’s,Of griefes assaultes vnto the end endure.Ca. Seni.Thy words preuaile, come lift me vp my Son,And call some help to binde my bleeding wounds.Cat. Iuni.Father I go with a more willing minde,Then didÆneaswhen fromTroyanfire,He bare his Father, and did so restore:The greatest gift hee had receiued before.Exit.Cat. Seni.Now haue I freed mee of that hurtfull Loue,Which interrupted my resolued will,1130Which all the world can neuer stay nor change:Cæsarwhose rule commands both Sea and Land,Is not of powre to hinder this weake hand,And time succeeding shall behold that IAlthough not liue, yet died courragiously,stab himselfe.
Enter Cato Iunior.
Ca. Iuni.O hast thou thus to thine owne harme deceiu’dmeWell I perceiue thy Noble dauntles heart:Because it would not beare the Conquerors insolence,Vsed on it selfe this cruell violence,1140I know not whether I should more lament,That by thine owne hand thou thus slaughtred art,Or Ioy that thou so nobly didst depart.Exit.
Ca. Iuni.O hast thou thus to thine owne harme deceiu’dmeWell I perceiue thy Noble dauntles heart:Because it would not beare the Conquerors insolence,Vsed on it selfe this cruell violence,1140I know not whether I should more lament,That by thine owne hand thou thus slaughtred art,Or Ioy that thou so nobly didst depart.Exit.
Chor. IIIEnter Discord.
Dis.NowCæsarrides triumphantly throughRome,And deckes the Capitoll withPompeysspoyle:Ambition now doth vertues seat vsurp,Then thou Reuengfull greatAdastriaQueene.Awake with horror of thy dubbing Drumm,1150And call the snaky furies from below,To dash the Ioy of their triumphing pride,Erinniskindle now thyStigianbrands,In discontentedBrutusboyling brest,LetCæsardie a bleeding sacrifice,Vnto the Soule of thy dead CountryRome.Why sleepest thouCassius? wake thee from thy dreame:And yet thou naught dost dreame but blood and death.For dreadfull visions do afright thysleepe.And howling Ghosts with gastly horrors cry,1160ByCassiushand must wickedCæsardie,NowRomecast of thy gaudypaintcdrobesAnd cloth thy selfe in sable colored weedes,Change thy vaine triumphs into funerall pomps,AndCæsarcast thy Laurell crowne apart,And bind thy temples with sadCyprestree.Of warrs thus peace insues, of peace more harmes,Then erst was wrought by tragick wars alarmes,Exit.
Dis.NowCæsarrides triumphantly throughRome,And deckes the Capitoll withPompeysspoyle:Ambition now doth vertues seat vsurp,Then thou Reuengfull greatAdastriaQueene.Awake with horror of thy dubbing Drumm,1150And call the snaky furies from below,To dash the Ioy of their triumphing pride,Erinniskindle now thyStigianbrands,In discontentedBrutusboyling brest,LetCæsardie a bleeding sacrifice,Vnto the Soule of thy dead CountryRome.Why sleepest thouCassius? wake thee from thy dreame:And yet thou naught dost dreame but blood and death.For dreadfull visions do afright thysleepe.And howling Ghosts with gastly horrors cry,1160ByCassiushand must wickedCæsardie,NowRomecast of thy gaudypaintcdrobesAnd cloth thy selfe in sable colored weedes,Change thy vaine triumphs into funerall pomps,AndCæsarcast thy Laurell crowne apart,And bind thy temples with sadCyprestree.Of warrs thus peace insues, of peace more harmes,Then erst was wrought by tragick wars alarmes,Exit.
Enter Cassius.
Cas.Harke howCæsarianswith resounding shoutes,1171Tell heauens of their pompes and victories,Cæsarthat long in pleasures idle lap,And daliance vayne of his Proud Curtezan,Had luld his sterne and bloody thoughts a sleepe,Now inRomestreets oreRomainescome to triumph,And to theRomainsshews thoseTropheyessad,Which from theRomaineshe with blood did get:The Tyrant mounted in his goulden chayre,Rides drawne with milke white palferies in like pride,1180AsPhæbusfrom his Orientall gate,Mounted vpon the firyPhlegetonsbackes.Comes prauncing forth, shaking his dewie locks:Cæsarthou art in gloryes cheefest pride,Thy sonne is mounted in the highest poynt:Thou placed art in top of fortunes wheele,Her wheele must turne, thy glory must eclipse,Thy Sunne descend and loose his radiant light,And if none be, whose countryes ardent loue,And losse ofRomanliberty can moue,1190Ile be the man that shall this taske performe.Cassiushath vowed it to deadPompeyssoule,Cassiushath vowed it to afflictedRome,Cassiushath vowed it, witnes Heauen and Earth,Exit.
Cas.Harke howCæsarianswith resounding shoutes,1171Tell heauens of their pompes and victories,Cæsarthat long in pleasures idle lap,And daliance vayne of his Proud Curtezan,Had luld his sterne and bloody thoughts a sleepe,Now inRomestreets oreRomainescome to triumph,And to theRomainsshews thoseTropheyessad,Which from theRomaineshe with blood did get:The Tyrant mounted in his goulden chayre,Rides drawne with milke white palferies in like pride,1180AsPhæbusfrom his Orientall gate,Mounted vpon the firyPhlegetonsbackes.Comes prauncing forth, shaking his dewie locks:Cæsarthou art in gloryes cheefest pride,Thy sonne is mounted in the highest poynt:Thou placed art in top of fortunes wheele,Her wheele must turne, thy glory must eclipse,Thy Sunne descend and loose his radiant light,And if none be, whose countryes ardent loue,And losse ofRomanliberty can moue,1190Ile be the man that shall this taske performe.Cassiushath vowed it to deadPompeyssoule,Cassiushath vowed it to afflictedRome,Cassiushath vowed it, witnes Heauen and Earth,Exit.
Enter Cæsar, Antony, Dolobella,Lords,two Romaines, & others.
Cæsar.Now haue I shaked of these womanish linkes,In which my captiud thoughts were chayneda fore,By that fayre charmingCirceswounding look,And now like that same ten yeares trauayler,1200Leauingbe-hindme all my troblespast.I come awayted with attending fame,Who through her shrilltriumpdoth my name resound,And makes proudTiberandLygurian Poe,(Yet a sadwitnerof the Sunne-Gods losse,)Beare my names glory to theOceanmayne,Which to the worlds end shallit bound itagaine,As fromPhægieanfields the King of the Gods,With conquering spoyles andTropheusproud returnd,When greatTypheusfell, by thundering darts,1210And rod away with their Cælestiall troops,In greatest pride through Heauens smooth paued way,So shall thePompeousglory of my traine,Daring to match ouldSaturnskingly Sonne,Call downe these goulden lampes from the bright skie,And leaue Heauen blind, my greatnes to admire.This laurell garland in fayre conquest made,Shall stayne the pride ofAriadnescrowne,Clad in the beauty of my glorious lampes,Cassiopealeaue thy starry chayre,1220AndonmySun-bright Chariot wheels attend,Which in triumphing pompe dothCæsarbeare.To Earths astonishment, and amaze of Heauen:Now looke proudeRomefrom thy seuen-fould seate,And see the world thy subiect, at thy feete,AndCæsarruling ouer all the world.Dolo.Now let vs cease to boast ofRomulus,First author of highRomeandRomainesname.Nor talke ofScaurus, worthyAfricans,The scurge ofLibiaand ofCarthagepride,1230Nor of vnconqueredPaulusdauntles minde,SinceCæsarsglory them exceedes as farreAs shiningPhebedoth the dimmest starre.Ant.Like as the Ship-man that hath lost thestarre.By which his doubtful ship he did direct,Wanders in darkenes, and in Cloudy night,So hauing lost my starr, myGouernesse.Which did direct me, with her Sonne-bright ray,In greefe I wander and in sad dismay:And though of triumphes and of victoryes,1240I do the out-ward signes andTrophiesbeare,Yet see mine inward mind vnder that face,Whose collours to these Triumphes is disgrace,Lord.As when from vanquishedMacedonia,Triumphing ore KingPersiusouerthrow,ConqueringÆmelius,in great glory came.Shewing the worlds spoyles which he had bereft,From the successors or greatAlexander,With such high pomp, yea greater victories,Cæsartriumphing coms into fayreRome,12501. Rom.In this one Champion all is comprehended,Which ancient times in seuerall men commended,Alcidesstrength,Achillesdauntles heart,GreatPhillipsSonne by magnanimity.SternePyrhusvallour, and greatHectorsmight,And all the prowes, that etherGreeceorTroy,Brought forth in that same ten yearsTroianswarre.2. Rom.FaireRomegreat monument ofRomulus.Thou mighty seate of consuls and of Kings:Ouer-victorious now Earths Conquerer,1260Welcome thy valiant sonne that to thee brings,Spoyles of the world, andexquiesof Kings.Cæsar.The conquering Issue of immortallIoue.Which in thePersianspoyles first fetch hisfame.Then throughHydasspis,and theCaspianwaues,Vnto the sea vnknowne his praise did propagate,Must to my glory vayle his conquering crest:TheLybickSands, andAfrick Sirtshee past.BactriansandZogdians, knowne but by their names,Wherebyhis armesresistles,powerssubdued,1270AndGangesstreames congeald withIndianblood,Could not transeport his burthen to the sea.But these nere lerned atMarshis games to play,Nor tost these bloody bals, of dread and death:Ararand proudSaramnaspeaks my praise,RohdansshrillTritonsthrough their brasen trumpes,Ecco my fame against theGallianTowers,AndIsiswept to see her daughterThames.Chainge her cleere cristall, to vermilian sad,The big bondGermanandHeluetianstout,1280Which well haue learned to tosse a tusked speare,And well can curbe a noble stomackt horse,CanCæsarsvallour witnes to theirgreefeIubathe mightyAffrickPotentate,That with his cole-blackNegroesto the field,Backt withNumidianandGetulianhorse,Hath felt the puissance of aRomansword.I entredAsiawith my banners spred,Displayed the Ægle on the Euxin sea:ByIasonfirst, and ventrousArgocut,1290And in the roughCimerian Bosphorus:A heauy witnesse ofPharnacesflight,And now am come to triumph heere inRome,VVith greater glory then ereRomainedid.Exeunt.
Cæsar.Now haue I shaked of these womanish linkes,In which my captiud thoughts were chayneda fore,By that fayre charmingCirceswounding look,And now like that same ten yeares trauayler,1200Leauingbe-hindme all my troblespast.I come awayted with attending fame,Who through her shrilltriumpdoth my name resound,And makes proudTiberandLygurian Poe,(Yet a sadwitnerof the Sunne-Gods losse,)Beare my names glory to theOceanmayne,Which to the worlds end shallit bound itagaine,As fromPhægieanfields the King of the Gods,With conquering spoyles andTropheusproud returnd,When greatTypheusfell, by thundering darts,1210And rod away with their Cælestiall troops,In greatest pride through Heauens smooth paued way,So shall thePompeousglory of my traine,Daring to match ouldSaturnskingly Sonne,Call downe these goulden lampes from the bright skie,And leaue Heauen blind, my greatnes to admire.This laurell garland in fayre conquest made,Shall stayne the pride ofAriadnescrowne,Clad in the beauty of my glorious lampes,Cassiopealeaue thy starry chayre,1220AndonmySun-bright Chariot wheels attend,Which in triumphing pompe dothCæsarbeare.To Earths astonishment, and amaze of Heauen:Now looke proudeRomefrom thy seuen-fould seate,And see the world thy subiect, at thy feete,AndCæsarruling ouer all the world.Dolo.Now let vs cease to boast ofRomulus,First author of highRomeandRomainesname.Nor talke ofScaurus, worthyAfricans,The scurge ofLibiaand ofCarthagepride,1230Nor of vnconqueredPaulusdauntles minde,SinceCæsarsglory them exceedes as farreAs shiningPhebedoth the dimmest starre.Ant.Like as the Ship-man that hath lost thestarre.By which his doubtful ship he did direct,Wanders in darkenes, and in Cloudy night,So hauing lost my starr, myGouernesse.Which did direct me, with her Sonne-bright ray,In greefe I wander and in sad dismay:And though of triumphes and of victoryes,1240I do the out-ward signes andTrophiesbeare,Yet see mine inward mind vnder that face,Whose collours to these Triumphes is disgrace,Lord.As when from vanquishedMacedonia,Triumphing ore KingPersiusouerthrow,ConqueringÆmelius,in great glory came.Shewing the worlds spoyles which he had bereft,From the successors or greatAlexander,With such high pomp, yea greater victories,Cæsartriumphing coms into fayreRome,12501. Rom.In this one Champion all is comprehended,Which ancient times in seuerall men commended,Alcidesstrength,Achillesdauntles heart,GreatPhillipsSonne by magnanimity.SternePyrhusvallour, and greatHectorsmight,And all the prowes, that etherGreeceorTroy,Brought forth in that same ten yearsTroianswarre.2. Rom.FaireRomegreat monument ofRomulus.Thou mighty seate of consuls and of Kings:Ouer-victorious now Earths Conquerer,1260Welcome thy valiant sonne that to thee brings,Spoyles of the world, andexquiesof Kings.Cæsar.The conquering Issue of immortallIoue.Which in thePersianspoyles first fetch hisfame.Then throughHydasspis,and theCaspianwaues,Vnto the sea vnknowne his praise did propagate,Must to my glory vayle his conquering crest:TheLybickSands, andAfrick Sirtshee past.BactriansandZogdians, knowne but by their names,Wherebyhis armesresistles,powerssubdued,1270AndGangesstreames congeald withIndianblood,Could not transeport his burthen to the sea.But these nere lerned atMarshis games to play,Nor tost these bloody bals, of dread and death:Ararand proudSaramnaspeaks my praise,RohdansshrillTritonsthrough their brasen trumpes,Ecco my fame against theGallianTowers,AndIsiswept to see her daughterThames.Chainge her cleere cristall, to vermilian sad,The big bondGermanandHeluetianstout,1280Which well haue learned to tosse a tusked speare,And well can curbe a noble stomackt horse,CanCæsarsvallour witnes to theirgreefeIubathe mightyAffrickPotentate,That with his cole-blackNegroesto the field,Backt withNumidianandGetulianhorse,Hath felt the puissance of aRomansword.I entredAsiawith my banners spred,Displayed the Ægle on the Euxin sea:ByIasonfirst, and ventrousArgocut,1290And in the roughCimerian Bosphorus:A heauy witnesse ofPharnacesflight,And now am come to triumph heere inRome,VVith greater glory then ereRomainedid.Exeunt.
Act III sc. iiiSound drums and Trumpets amaine.Enter Anthony.
Antho.Alas these triumphes mooue not me at all,But only do renew remembrance sad,Of her triumphing and imperious lookes,VVhich is the Saint and Idoll of my thoughtes:1300First was I wounded by her percing eye:Next prisoner tane by her captiuing speech,And now shee triumphes ore my conquered heart,InCupidsChariot ryding in her pride,And leades me captiue bounde in Beauties bondes:Cæsarslip-loue, that neuer touched his heart,By present triumph and the absent fire,Is now waxt could; but mine that was more deepe,Ingrauen in the marble of my brest,Nor time nor Fortune ere can raze it out.1310
Antho.Alas these triumphes mooue not me at all,But only do renew remembrance sad,Of her triumphing and imperious lookes,VVhich is the Saint and Idoll of my thoughtes:1300First was I wounded by her percing eye:Next prisoner tane by her captiuing speech,And now shee triumphes ore my conquered heart,InCupidsChariot ryding in her pride,And leades me captiue bounde in Beauties bondes:Cæsarslip-loue, that neuer touched his heart,By present triumph and the absent fire,Is now waxt could; but mine that was more deepe,Ingrauen in the marble of my brest,Nor time nor Fortune ere can raze it out.1310
Enter Anthonies bonus genius.
Gen.Anthony, base femallAnthony,Thou womans souldiar, fit for nights assaults,Hast thou so soone forgot the discipline,And wilsome taskes thy youth was trayned to,Thy soft downe Pillow, was a helme of steele:The could damp earth, a bed to ease thy toyle,Afrigtedslumbers were thy golden sleepes:Hunger and thirst thy sweetest delicates,Sterne horror, gastly woundes, pale greesly death:1320Thywindedepressing pleasures and delights,And now so soone hathonenchanted face,These manly labours luld in drowsy sleepe:The Gods (whose messenger I heere do stand)Will not then drowne thy fame in Idlenesse:Yet mustPhilippisee thy high exploytes,And all the world ring of thy Victories.Antho.Say what thou art, that in this dreadful sortForbidd’st me ofmyCleopatrasloue.Gen.I am thybonus Genius,Anthony,1330VVhich to thy dul eares this do prophecy:That fatall face which now doth so bewitch thee,Like to that vaine vnconstant Greekish dame,VVhich made the statelyIliantowres to smoke,Shall thousand bleedingRomainslayoneground:Hymenin sable not in saferon robes,Instead of roundes shall dolefull dirges singe.For nuptiall tapers, shall the furies beare,Blew-burning torches to increase your feare:The bride-grooms scull shal make the bridal bondes:1340And hel-borne hags shall dance an Antick round,VVhileHecate Hymen(heu, heu)Hymencries,And now methinkes I see the seas blew face:Hidden with shippes, and now the trumpets sound,And weakeCanopuswith the Ægle striues,Neptuneamazed at this dreadfull sight:Cals blew sea Gods for to behold the fight,GlaucusandPanopea,Proteusould,VVho now for feare changeth his wonted shape,Thus your vaine loue which with delight begunne:1350In Idle sport shall end with bloud and shame.Exit.Antho.VVhat wast myGeniusthat mee threatned thus?They say that from our birth he doth preserue:And on mee will he powre these miseries?VVhat burning torches, what alarums of warre,VVhat shames did he to my loues prophesie?O no hee comes as wingedMercurie,From his great FatherIoue, t’AnchisessonneTo warne him leaue the wanton dalliance,And charming pleasures of theTyrianCourt,1360Then waketheAnthonyfrom this idle dreame,Cast of these base effeminate passions:Which melt the courrage of thy manlike minde,And with thy swordreceiuethy sleeping praise.Exit.
Gen.Anthony, base femallAnthony,Thou womans souldiar, fit for nights assaults,Hast thou so soone forgot the discipline,And wilsome taskes thy youth was trayned to,Thy soft downe Pillow, was a helme of steele:The could damp earth, a bed to ease thy toyle,Afrigtedslumbers were thy golden sleepes:Hunger and thirst thy sweetest delicates,Sterne horror, gastly woundes, pale greesly death:1320Thywindedepressing pleasures and delights,And now so soone hathonenchanted face,These manly labours luld in drowsy sleepe:The Gods (whose messenger I heere do stand)Will not then drowne thy fame in Idlenesse:Yet mustPhilippisee thy high exploytes,And all the world ring of thy Victories.Antho.Say what thou art, that in this dreadful sortForbidd’st me ofmyCleopatrasloue.Gen.I am thybonus Genius,Anthony,1330VVhich to thy dul eares this do prophecy:That fatall face which now doth so bewitch thee,Like to that vaine vnconstant Greekish dame,VVhich made the statelyIliantowres to smoke,Shall thousand bleedingRomainslayoneground:Hymenin sable not in saferon robes,Instead of roundes shall dolefull dirges singe.For nuptiall tapers, shall the furies beare,Blew-burning torches to increase your feare:The bride-grooms scull shal make the bridal bondes:1340And hel-borne hags shall dance an Antick round,VVhileHecate Hymen(heu, heu)Hymencries,And now methinkes I see the seas blew face:Hidden with shippes, and now the trumpets sound,And weakeCanopuswith the Ægle striues,Neptuneamazed at this dreadfull sight:Cals blew sea Gods for to behold the fight,GlaucusandPanopea,Proteusould,VVho now for feare changeth his wonted shape,Thus your vaine loue which with delight begunne:1350In Idle sport shall end with bloud and shame.Exit.Antho.VVhat wast myGeniusthat mee threatned thus?They say that from our birth he doth preserue:And on mee will he powre these miseries?VVhat burning torches, what alarums of warre,VVhat shames did he to my loues prophesie?O no hee comes as wingedMercurie,From his great FatherIoue, t’AnchisessonneTo warne him leaue the wanton dalliance,And charming pleasures of theTyrianCourt,1360Then waketheAnthonyfrom this idle dreame,Cast of these base effeminate passions:Which melt the courrage of thy manlike minde,And with thy swordreceiuethy sleeping praise.Exit.
Enter Brutus.
Bru.How long in base ignoble patience,Shall I behold my Countries wofull fall,O you braueRomains, and among’st the restMost NobleBrutus, faire befall your soules:1370Let Peace and Fame your Honored graues awaite,Who through such perils, and such tedious warres,Won your great labors prise sweete liberty,But wee that with our life did freedoms take,And did no sooner Men, then free-men, breath:To loose it now continuing so long,And with such lawes, such vowes, such othes confirm’dCan nothing but disgrace and shame expect:But soft what see I written on my seate,O vtinam Brute viueres.1380What meaneth this, thy courage dead,But stay, reade forward,Brute mortuus es.I thou art dead indeed, thy courrage deadThy care and loue thy dearest Country dead,Thy wonted spirit and Noble stomack dead.
Bru.How long in base ignoble patience,Shall I behold my Countries wofull fall,O you braueRomains, and among’st the restMost NobleBrutus, faire befall your soules:1370Let Peace and Fame your Honored graues awaite,Who through such perils, and such tedious warres,Won your great labors prise sweete liberty,But wee that with our life did freedoms take,And did no sooner Men, then free-men, breath:To loose it now continuing so long,And with such lawes, such vowes, such othes confirm’dCan nothing but disgrace and shame expect:But soft what see I written on my seate,O vtinam Brute viueres.1380What meaneth this, thy courage dead,But stay, reade forward,Brute mortuus es.I thou art dead indeed, thy courrage deadThy care and loue thy dearest Country dead,Thy wonted spirit and Noble stomack dead.
Enter Cassius.
Cassi.The times drawe neere by gratious heauens assigndWhenPhilipsSonne must fall inBabilon,In his triumphing proudpersumption:But see where melancholyBrutuswalkes,1390Whose minde is hammering on no meane conceit:Then sound himCassius, see how hee is inclined,How fares youngBrutusin this tottering state.Bru.Euen as an idle gazer, that beholdes,His Countries wrackes and cannot succor bring.Cassi.But wilBrutealwaies in this dreame remaine,And not bee mooued with his Countries mone.Bru.O that I might inLethesendles sleepe,And neere awaking pleasant rest of deathClose vp mine eyes, that I no more might see,1400PooreRomesdistresse and Countries misery.Casi.NoBrutusliue, and wake thy sleepy minde,Stirre vp those dying sparkes of honors fire,VVhich in thy gentle breast weare wont to flame:See how pooreRomeopprest with Countries wronges,Implores thine ayde, that bred thee to that end,Thy kins-mans soule from heauen commandes thine aide:That lastly must by thee receiue his end,Then purchas honor by a glorious death,Or liue renown’d by endingCæsarslife.1410Bru.I can no longer beare the Tirants pride,I cannot heare my Country crie for ayde,And not bee mooued with her pitious mone,Brutusthy soule shall neuer more complaine:That from thy linage and most vertuous stock,A bastard weake degenerat branch is borne,For to distaine the honor of thy house.No more shall now theRomainscall me dead,Ile liue againe and rowze my sleepy thoughts:And with the Tirants death begin this life.1420Romenow I come to reare thy states decayed,VVhen or this hand shall cure thy fatall wound,Or else this heartbybleeding on the ground.Cas.Now heauen I see applaudes this enterprise,AndRhadamanthinto the fatall Vrne,Thatlothethdeath, hath thrust the Tirants name,Cæsarthe life that thou in bloud hast led:Shall heape a bloudy vengance on thine head.Exeunt.
Cassi.The times drawe neere by gratious heauens assigndWhenPhilipsSonne must fall inBabilon,In his triumphing proudpersumption:But see where melancholyBrutuswalkes,1390Whose minde is hammering on no meane conceit:Then sound himCassius, see how hee is inclined,How fares youngBrutusin this tottering state.Bru.Euen as an idle gazer, that beholdes,His Countries wrackes and cannot succor bring.Cassi.But wilBrutealwaies in this dreame remaine,And not bee mooued with his Countries mone.Bru.O that I might inLethesendles sleepe,And neere awaking pleasant rest of deathClose vp mine eyes, that I no more might see,1400PooreRomesdistresse and Countries misery.Casi.NoBrutusliue, and wake thy sleepy minde,Stirre vp those dying sparkes of honors fire,VVhich in thy gentle breast weare wont to flame:See how pooreRomeopprest with Countries wronges,Implores thine ayde, that bred thee to that end,Thy kins-mans soule from heauen commandes thine aide:That lastly must by thee receiue his end,Then purchas honor by a glorious death,Or liue renown’d by endingCæsarslife.1410Bru.I can no longer beare the Tirants pride,I cannot heare my Country crie for ayde,And not bee mooued with her pitious mone,Brutusthy soule shall neuer more complaine:That from thy linage and most vertuous stock,A bastard weake degenerat branch is borne,For to distaine the honor of thy house.No more shall now theRomainscall me dead,Ile liue againe and rowze my sleepy thoughts:And with the Tirants death begin this life.1420Romenow I come to reare thy states decayed,VVhen or this hand shall cure thy fatall wound,Or else this heartbybleeding on the ground.Cas.Now heauen I see applaudes this enterprise,AndRhadamanthinto the fatall Vrne,Thatlothethdeath, hath thrust the Tirants name,Cæsarthe life that thou in bloud hast led:Shall heape a bloudy vengance on thine head.Exeunt.
Enter Cæsar,AnthonyDolobella,Lords,and others.
Cæs.Now servilePharthiaproud inRomainespoile,1431Shall pay her ransome vntoCæsarsGhost:Which vnreuenged roues by the Stygian strond,Exclaming on our sluggish negligence.Leaue to lament braueRomans, loe I come,Like to the God of battell, mad with rage,To die their riuers with vermilion red:Ile fillArmeniansplaynes andMedianshils,With carkases of bastardScithianbroode,And there proud Princes will I bring toRome,1440Chained in fetters to my charriot wheeles:Desire of fame and hope of sweete reueng,Which in my brest hath kindled such a flame,As norEuphrates, nor sweetTybersstreame,Can quench or slack this feruent boyling heate:These conquering souldiers that haue followed me,From vanquishtFranceto sun-burntMeroe,Matching the best ofAlexanderstroopes.Shall with their lookes putParthianfoes to flight,And make them twise turne their deceitfull lookes,1450Ant.The restlesse mind that harbors sorrowing thoughts,And is with child of noble enterprise,Doth neuer cease from honors toilesome taske,Till it bringes forth Eternall gloryes broode.So you fayre braunch of vertues great discent,Now hauing finish’d Ciuill warres sad broyles,Intend byParthiantriumphes to enlarge,Your contryes limits, and your owne renowne,But cause inSibillesciuill writs we finde,None but a King that conquest can atchiue,1460Both for to crowne your deedes with due reward,And as auspicious signes ofvictorye.Wee here present you with thisDiadem,Lord.And euen as kings were banish’dRomeshigh throneCause their base vice, her honour did destayne,So to your rule doth shee submit her selfe,That her renownethere bymight brighter shine,Cæsar.Why thinke you Lords that tis ambitionsspur.That prickethCæsarto these high attempts,Or hope of Crownes, or thought ofDiadems,1470That made me wade through honours perilous deepe,Vertue vnto itselfea shure reward,My labours all shall haue a pleasing doome,If you but Iudge Iwilldeserue ofRome:Did those oldRomainessuffer so much ill?Such tedious seeges, such enduring warrs?Tarquiniushates, and greatPorsennasthreats,To banish proude imperious tyrants rule?And shall myeuerdaringthoughts contendTo marre what they haue brought to happy end:1480Or thinke you cause my Fortune hath expeld,My friends, come let vs march in iolity,Ile triumph Monarke-like ore conqueringRome,Or end my conquests with my countryes spoyles,Dolo.O noble Princely resolution.Theseornot victoryes that we so call,That onely blood and murtherous spoyles can vaunt:But this shalbe thy victory braue Prince,That thou hast conquered thy owne climing thoughts,And with thy vertue beat ambition downe,1490And this no lesse inblazon shall thyfame.Then those great deeds and chiualrous attempts,That made thee conqueror inThessalia.Ant.This noble mind andPincelymodesty,Which in contempt of honours brightnes shines,Makes vs to wish the more for such a Prince,Whose vertue not ambition won that praise,Nor shall we thinke it losse ofliberty.OrRomaineliberty any way impeached,For to subiect vs to his Princely rule,1500Whose thoughts fayre vertue and true honor guides:Vouchsafe then to accept this goulden crowne,A gift not equall to thy dignity.Cæs.Content you Lordes for I wilbe no King,An odious name vnto theRomaineeare,CæsarI am, and wilbeCæsarstill,No other title shall my Fortunes grace:Which I will make a name of higher stateThen Monarch, King or worldes great Potentate.OfIouein Heauen, shall ruled bee the skie,1510The Earth ofCæsar, with like Maiesty.This is the Scepter that my crowne shall beare,And this the golden diadem Ile weare,A farre more rich and royall ornament,Then all the Crownes that the proudPersiangaue:Forward my Lordes let Trumpets sound our march,And drums strike vp Reuenges sad alarms,Parthiawe come with like incensed heate,As greatAtrideswith the angry Greekes,Marching in fury to pale walls ofTroy.1520
Cæs.Now servilePharthiaproud inRomainespoile,1431Shall pay her ransome vntoCæsarsGhost:Which vnreuenged roues by the Stygian strond,Exclaming on our sluggish negligence.Leaue to lament braueRomans, loe I come,Like to the God of battell, mad with rage,To die their riuers with vermilion red:Ile fillArmeniansplaynes andMedianshils,With carkases of bastardScithianbroode,And there proud Princes will I bring toRome,1440Chained in fetters to my charriot wheeles:Desire of fame and hope of sweete reueng,Which in my brest hath kindled such a flame,As norEuphrates, nor sweetTybersstreame,Can quench or slack this feruent boyling heate:These conquering souldiers that haue followed me,From vanquishtFranceto sun-burntMeroe,Matching the best ofAlexanderstroopes.Shall with their lookes putParthianfoes to flight,And make them twise turne their deceitfull lookes,1450Ant.The restlesse mind that harbors sorrowing thoughts,And is with child of noble enterprise,Doth neuer cease from honors toilesome taske,Till it bringes forth Eternall gloryes broode.So you fayre braunch of vertues great discent,Now hauing finish’d Ciuill warres sad broyles,Intend byParthiantriumphes to enlarge,Your contryes limits, and your owne renowne,But cause inSibillesciuill writs we finde,None but a King that conquest can atchiue,1460Both for to crowne your deedes with due reward,And as auspicious signes ofvictorye.Wee here present you with thisDiadem,Lord.And euen as kings were banish’dRomeshigh throneCause their base vice, her honour did destayne,So to your rule doth shee submit her selfe,That her renownethere bymight brighter shine,Cæsar.Why thinke you Lords that tis ambitionsspur.That prickethCæsarto these high attempts,Or hope of Crownes, or thought ofDiadems,1470That made me wade through honours perilous deepe,Vertue vnto itselfea shure reward,My labours all shall haue a pleasing doome,If you but Iudge Iwilldeserue ofRome:Did those oldRomainessuffer so much ill?Such tedious seeges, such enduring warrs?Tarquiniushates, and greatPorsennasthreats,To banish proude imperious tyrants rule?And shall myeuerdaringthoughts contendTo marre what they haue brought to happy end:1480Or thinke you cause my Fortune hath expeld,My friends, come let vs march in iolity,Ile triumph Monarke-like ore conqueringRome,Or end my conquests with my countryes spoyles,Dolo.O noble Princely resolution.Theseornot victoryes that we so call,That onely blood and murtherous spoyles can vaunt:But this shalbe thy victory braue Prince,That thou hast conquered thy owne climing thoughts,And with thy vertue beat ambition downe,1490And this no lesse inblazon shall thyfame.Then those great deeds and chiualrous attempts,That made thee conqueror inThessalia.Ant.This noble mind andPincelymodesty,Which in contempt of honours brightnes shines,Makes vs to wish the more for such a Prince,Whose vertue not ambition won that praise,Nor shall we thinke it losse ofliberty.OrRomaineliberty any way impeached,For to subiect vs to his Princely rule,1500Whose thoughts fayre vertue and true honor guides:Vouchsafe then to accept this goulden crowne,A gift not equall to thy dignity.Cæs.Content you Lordes for I wilbe no King,An odious name vnto theRomaineeare,CæsarI am, and wilbeCæsarstill,No other title shall my Fortunes grace:Which I will make a name of higher stateThen Monarch, King or worldes great Potentate.OfIouein Heauen, shall ruled bee the skie,1510The Earth ofCæsar, with like Maiesty.This is the Scepter that my crowne shall beare,And this the golden diadem Ile weare,A farre more rich and royall ornament,Then all the Crownes that the proudPersiangaue:Forward my Lordes let Trumpets sound our march,And drums strike vp Reuenges sad alarms,Parthiawe come with like incensed heate,As greatAtrideswith the angry Greekes,Marching in fury to pale walls ofTroy.1520
Enter Cassius, Brutus, Trebonius,CumberCasca.
Tre.Braue Lords whose forward resolution,Shewes you descended from trueRomaineline,See how oldRomein winter of her age,Reioyseth in such Princely budding hopes,No lesse then once she inDeciusvertue did,Or greatCamillusbringing back of spoyles.On then braue Lords of this attempt begun,The sacred Senate doth commend the deede:1530Your Countries loue incites you to the deed,Vertue her selfe makes warrant of the deed,Then NobleRomainsas you haue begun:Neuer desist vntill this deede be done.Casi.To thee Reueng dothCassiuskneele him downe.Thou that brings quiet to perplexed soules,And borne in Hel, yet harborest heauens ioyes,Whose fauor slaughter is, and dandling death,Bloud-thirsty pleasures andmis bodingblisse:Brought forth of Fury, nurse of cankered Hate,1540To drowne in woe the pleasures of the world.Thou shalt no more in duskishErebus:And dark-some hell obscure thy Deity,Insteede ofIouethou shalt my Godesse bee,To thee faire TemplesCassiuswill erect:And on thine alter built ofParianstoneWholeHecatombswill I offer vp.Laugh gentle Godesse on my bould attempt,Yet in thy laughter let pale meager death:Bee wrapt in wrinkels of thy murthering spoyles.1550Bru.An otherTarquinis to bee expeld,An otherBrutusliues to act the deede:Tis not one nation that thisTarquinwronges,AllRomeis stayn’d with his vnrul’d desires,Shee whose imperiall scepter was invr’d:To conquer Kings and to controul the world,Cannot abate the glory of her state,To yeeld or bowe to one mans proud desires:Sweete CountryRomehereBrutusvowes to thee,To loose his life or else to set thee free.1560Cas.Shame bee his share that doth his life so prize,That toRomesweale it would not sacrifize,My Poniardes point shall pearce his heart as deepe,As earst his swordeRomesbleeding side did goare:And change his garments to the purple die,With which our bloud had staynd sadThessaly.Cam.Hee doth refuse the title of a King,But wee do see hee doth vsurp the thing.Tre.Our ancient freedome hee empeacheth more,Then euer King or Tyrant did before.1570Cas.The Senators by him are quite disgrac’d,Rome,Romans, Citty, Freedome, all defac’d.Cassi.We come not Lords, as vnresolued men,For to shewe causes of the deed decreed,This shall dispute for mee and tell him why,This heart, hand, minde, hath mark’d him out to die:If it be true that furiesquench-lesthirst,Is pleas’d with quaffing of ambitious bloud,Then all you deuills whet my Poniards point,And I wil broach you a bloud-sucking heart:1580Which full of bloud, must bloud store to you yeeld,Were ita peerceto flint or marble stone:Why so it is forCæsarsheart’s a stone,Els would bee mooued with my Countries mone.They say you furies instigate mens mindes,And push their armes to finnish bloudy deedes:Prick then mine Elbo: goade my bloudy hand,That it may goareCæsarsambitious heart.Exeunt.
Tre.Braue Lords whose forward resolution,Shewes you descended from trueRomaineline,See how oldRomein winter of her age,Reioyseth in such Princely budding hopes,No lesse then once she inDeciusvertue did,Or greatCamillusbringing back of spoyles.On then braue Lords of this attempt begun,The sacred Senate doth commend the deede:1530Your Countries loue incites you to the deed,Vertue her selfe makes warrant of the deed,Then NobleRomainsas you haue begun:Neuer desist vntill this deede be done.Casi.To thee Reueng dothCassiuskneele him downe.Thou that brings quiet to perplexed soules,And borne in Hel, yet harborest heauens ioyes,Whose fauor slaughter is, and dandling death,Bloud-thirsty pleasures andmis bodingblisse:Brought forth of Fury, nurse of cankered Hate,1540To drowne in woe the pleasures of the world.Thou shalt no more in duskishErebus:And dark-some hell obscure thy Deity,Insteede ofIouethou shalt my Godesse bee,To thee faire TemplesCassiuswill erect:And on thine alter built ofParianstoneWholeHecatombswill I offer vp.Laugh gentle Godesse on my bould attempt,Yet in thy laughter let pale meager death:Bee wrapt in wrinkels of thy murthering spoyles.1550Bru.An otherTarquinis to bee expeld,An otherBrutusliues to act the deede:Tis not one nation that thisTarquinwronges,AllRomeis stayn’d with his vnrul’d desires,Shee whose imperiall scepter was invr’d:To conquer Kings and to controul the world,Cannot abate the glory of her state,To yeeld or bowe to one mans proud desires:Sweete CountryRomehereBrutusvowes to thee,To loose his life or else to set thee free.1560Cas.Shame bee his share that doth his life so prize,That toRomesweale it would not sacrifize,My Poniardes point shall pearce his heart as deepe,As earst his swordeRomesbleeding side did goare:And change his garments to the purple die,With which our bloud had staynd sadThessaly.Cam.Hee doth refuse the title of a King,But wee do see hee doth vsurp the thing.Tre.Our ancient freedome hee empeacheth more,Then euer King or Tyrant did before.1570Cas.The Senators by him are quite disgrac’d,Rome,Romans, Citty, Freedome, all defac’d.Cassi.We come not Lords, as vnresolued men,For to shewe causes of the deed decreed,This shall dispute for mee and tell him why,This heart, hand, minde, hath mark’d him out to die:If it be true that furiesquench-lesthirst,Is pleas’d with quaffing of ambitious bloud,Then all you deuills whet my Poniards point,And I wil broach you a bloud-sucking heart:1580Which full of bloud, must bloud store to you yeeld,Were ita peerceto flint or marble stone:Why so it is forCæsarsheart’s a stone,Els would bee mooued with my Countries mone.They say you furies instigate mens mindes,And push their armes to finnish bloudy deedes:Prick then mine Elbo: goade my bloudy hand,That it may goareCæsarsambitious heart.Exeunt.
Enter Cæsar, Calphurnia.