1 Sold. Did you see this penitence? 2 Sold. Yes, I saw, and heard it.

3 Sold. And I too looked upon him, and observed it;

He is the strangest Septimius now

1 Sold. I heard he was altered,

And had given away his gold to honest uses,
Cried monstrously.

2 Sold. He cries abundantly; He is blind almost with weeping. 3 Sold. 'Tis most wonderful,

That a hard-hearted man, and an old soldier, Should have so much kind moisture. When his mother died,

He laughed aloud, and made the wickedest ballads!

1 Sold. 'Tis like enough: he never loved his parents;

Nor can I blame him, for they ne'er loved him. His mother dreamed, before she was delivered, That she was brought a-bed with a buzzard, and ever after

She whistled him up to the world. His brave

clothes, too,

He has flung away, and goes like one of us now; Walks with his hands in his pockets, poor and sorrowful,

And gives the best instructions!

2 Sold. And tells stories

Of honest and good people, that were honoured, And how they were remembered; and râns mad, If he but hear of an ungrateful person,

A bloody or betraying man.

3 Sold. If it be possible,

That an arch-villain may e'er be recovered, This penitent rascal will put hard. 'Twere worth our labour

To see him once again.

Rather lose all your limbs, than the least honesty;

You're never lame indeed, till loss of credit Benumb ye through; scars, and those maims of honour,

Are memorable crutches, that shall bear,
When you are dead, your noble names to eter-
nity!
Sold. I cry.

2 Sold. And so do I.

3 Sold. An excellent villain!

1 Sold. A more sweet pious knave, I never heard yet.

2 Sold. He was happy he was rascal, to come to this.

Enter ACHOREUS.
Who's this? a priest?

Sept. Oh, stay, most holy sir!
And, by the gods of Egypt, I conjure ye,
Isis, and great Osiris, pity me,

Pity a loaden man! and tell me truly,
With what most humble sacrifice I may
Wash off my sin, and
the
hate me?

appease

powers,

that

Take from my heart those thousand thousand furies,

That restless gnaw upon my life, and save me!
Orestes' bloody hands fell on his mother,
Yet at the holy altar he was pardoned.

Achor. Orestes out of madness did his murder,

And therefore he found grace: Thou, worst of all men,

Out of cold blood, and hope of gain, base lucre, Slewest thine own feeder! Come not near the altar,

Nor with thy reeking hands pollute the sacrifice; Thou art marked for shame eternal! [Exit.

Sept. Look all on me,

And let me be a story, left to time,
Of blood and infamy! How base and ugly
Ingratitude appears, with all her profits!
How monstrous my hoped grace at court! Good
soldiers,

Let neither flattery, nor the witching sound
Of high and soft preferment, touch your good-

Sept. I would 'twere off,

And in your bellies, for the love you bear me! I'll be no more knave; I have stings enough Already in my breast.

Pho. Thou shalt be noble;

And who dares think then, that thou art not honest?

Achil. Thou shalt command in chief all our strong forces;

And if thou serv'st an use, must not all justify it? Sept. I am rogue enough.

Pho. Thou wilt be more and baser; A poor rogue's all rogues, open to all shames; Nothing to shadow him. Dost thou think crying Can keep thee from the censure of the multitude?

Or to be kneeling at the altar, save thee? 'Tis poor and servile! Wert thou thine own sacrifice,

'Twould seem so low, people would spit the fire

out.

Achil. Keep thyself glorious still, though ne'er so stained,

And that will lessen it, if not work it out.
To go complaining thus, and thus repenting,
Like a poor girl that had betrayed her maiden-
head-

Sept. I'll stop mine ears.

Achil. Will shew so in a soldier,

So simply and so ridiculously, so tamely

Pho. If people would believe thee, 'twere some honesty;

And for thy penitence would not laugh at thee, (As sure they will) and beat thee, for thy pover

ty;

If they'd allow thy foolery, there were some hope. Sept. My foolery?

Pho. Nay, more than that, thy misery, Thy monstrous misery.

Achil. He begins to hearken.

Thy misery so great, men will not bury thee.
Sept. That this were true!

Pho, Why does this conquering Cæsar Labour through the world's deep seas of toils and troubles,

Dangers, and desperate hopes? to repent afterwards?

Why does he slaughter thousands in a battle, And whip his country with the sword? to cry for it?

Thou kill'dst great Pompey: He'll kill all his kindred,

And justify it; nay, raise up trophies to it. When thou hear'st him repent (he's held most holy too),

And cry for doing daily bloody murders,
Take thou example, and go ask forgiveness;
Call up the thing, thou namest thy conscience,
And let it work; then 'twill seem well, Septi-

mius.

Enter CESAR, ANTONY, and DOLABELLA.
Ant. The tumult still encreases.
Casar. Oh, my fortune!

My lustful folly rather! But 'tis well,
And worthily I'm made a bondman's prey,
That (after all my glorious victories,
In which I passed so many seas of dangers,
When all the elements conspired against me)
Would yield up the dominion of this head
To any mortal power; so blind and stupid,
To trust these base Egyptians, that proclaimed
Their perjuries in noble Pompey's death,
And yet that could not warn me!

Dol. Be still Cæsar,

Who ever loved to exercise his fate,
Where danger looked most dreadful.
Ant. If you fall,

Fall not alone: let the king and his sister
Be buried in your ruins: On my life,
They both are guilty! Reason may assure you,
Photinus nor Achillas durst attempt you,
Or shake one dart, or sword, aimed at your
safety,

Without their warrant.

Casar. For the young king, I know not
How he may be misled; but for his sister,
Cleopatra, twere a kind

Of
to doubt her: Ugly treason
Durst never dwell in such a glorious building;
Nor can so clear and great a spirit as her's is
Admit of falsehood.

Ant. Let us seize on him then;
And leave her to her fortune.

Dol. If he have power,

Use it to your security, and let

His honesty acquit him; if he be false,
It is too great an honour he should die
By your victorious hand.

Cæsar. He comes, and I Shall do as I find cause.

Ptol. Let not great Cæsar
Impute the breach of hospitality

To you my guest, to me! I am contemned,
And my rebellious subjects lift their hands
Against my head; and 'would they aimed no fur
ther,

Provided that I fell a sacrifice

To gain you safety! That this is not feigned,
The boldness of my innocence may confirm you?
Had I been privy to their bloody plot,

I now had led them on, and given fair gloss
To their bad cause, by being present with them;
But I, that yet taste of the punishment
In being false to Pompey, will not make
A second fault to Cæsar, uncompelled:

With such as have not yet shook off obedience,
I yield myself to you, and will take part
In all your dangers.

Casar. This pleads your excuse,
And I receive it.

Achor. If they've any touch
Of justice, or religion, I will use

The authority of our gods, to call them back
From their bad purpose.

Apol. This part of the palace

Is yet defensible; we may make it good 'Till your powers rescue us.

Casar. Cæsar besieged?

Oh, stain to my great actions! 'Twas my custom
An army routed, as my feet had wings,

To be first in the chase; nor walls, nor bulwark
Could guard those, that escaped the battle's fury
From this strong arm; and I to be enclosed!
My heart! my heart! But 'tis necessity,
To which the gods must yield, and I obey,
'Till I redeem it by some glorious way. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter PHOTINUS, ACHILLAS, SEPTIMIUS, and Soldiers.

Pho. There's no retiring now; we are broke in;

The deed past hope of pardon. If we prosper,
"Twill be stiled lawful, and we shall give laws
To those, that now command us: Stop not at
Or loyalty, or duty; bold ambition

To dare, and power to do, gave the first difference
Between the king and subject. Cæsar's motto,
Aut Cæsar aut nihil, each of us must claim,
And use it as our own.

Achil. The deed is bloody,

If we conclude in Ptolomy's death.

Had her walls watered with a crimson shower, Drained from a brother's heart; nor was she raised

To this prodigious height, that overlooks
Three full parts of the earth, that pay her tribute,
But by enlarging of her narrow bounds,
By the sack of neighbour cities, not made hers
Till they were cemented with the blood of those,
That did possess them: Cæsar, Ptolomy,
Now I am steeled, to me are empty names,
Esteemed as Pompey's was.

Pho. Well said, Septimius!

Thou now art right again.

Achil. But what course take we

For the princess Cleopatra?

Pho. Let her live

A while, to make us sport; she shall authorize
Our undertakings to the ignorant people,
As if what we do were by her command:
But, our triumvirate government once confirmed,
She bears her brother company: That's my pro-
vince;

Leave me to work her.

Achil. I will undertake

For Ptolomy.

Sept. Cæsar shall be my task; And as in Pompey I began a name, I'll perfect it in Cæsar!

Enter above, CESAR, PTOLOMY, ACHOREUS,
APOLLODORUS, ANTONY, and Dolabella.
Pho. 'Tis resolved then;

We'll force our passage.
Achil. See, they do appear,

As they desired a parley.

Pho. I am proud yet

I have brought them to capitulate.

Ptol. Now, Photinus?

Pho. Now, Ptolomy!

Ptol. No addition?

Pho. We are equal,

Though Cæsar's name were put into the scale, In which our worth is weighed.

Casar. Presumptuous villain!

Upon what grounds hast thou presumed to raise
Thy servile hand against the king? or me,
That have a greater name?

Pho. On those, by which

Thou didst presume to pass the Rubicon
Against the laws of Rome; and, at the name
Of traitor, smile, as thou didst, when Marcellus,
The consul, with the senate's full consent,
Pronounced thee for an enemy to thy country:
Yet thou went'st on, and thy rebellious cause
Was crowned with fair success. Why should we
fear, then?

Pho. Despair, and think we stand The champions of Rome, to wreak her wrongs, Upon whose liberty thou hast set thy foot.

Sept. And that the ghosts of all those noble
Romans,

That by thy sword fell in this civil war,
Expect revenge.

Ant. Darest thou speak, and remember
There was a Pompey?

Pho. There's no hope to 'scape us!

If that, against the odds we have upon you,
You dare come forth and fight, receive the honour
To die like Romans; if ye faint, resolve

To starve like wretches! I disdain to change
Another syllable with you.

Ant. Let us die nobly;

[Exeunt PHO. ACHIL. SEPT

And rather fall upon each other's sword,
Than come into these villains' hands.

Cæsar. That fortune,

Which to this hour hath been a friend to Cæsar, Though for a while she cloathe her brow with frowns,

Will smile again upon me: Who will pay her
Or sacrifice, or vows, if she forsake

Her best of works in me? or suffer him,
Whom with a strong hand she hath led triumphant
Through the whole western world, and Rome ac-
knowledged

Her sovereign lord, to end ingloriously
A life admired by all? The threaten'd danger
Must, by a way more horrid, be avoided,
And I will run the hazard. Fire the palace,
And the rich magazines that neighbour it,
In which the wealth of Egypt is contained!
Start not; it shall be so; that while the people
Labour in quenching the ensuing flames,
Like Cæsar, with this handful of my friends,
Through fire, and swords, I force a passage to
My conquering legions. King, if thou darest, fol-

low,

SCENE III.

Enter SEPTIMIUS.

Sept. I feel my resolution melts again, And that I am not knave alone, but fool, In all my purposes. This devil Photinus Employs me as a property, and, grown useless, Will shake me off again: He told me so, When I killed Pompey; nor can I hope better, When Cæsar is dispatched. Services done For such as only study their own ends, Too great to be rewarded, are returned With deadly hate: I learned this principle In his own school. Yet still he fools me; well; And yet he trusts me: Since I in my nature Was fashioned to be false, wherefore should I, That killed my general, and a Roman, one To whom I owed all nourishments of life, Be true to an Egyptian? To save Cæsar, And turn Photinus' plots on his own head, (As it is in my power) redeem my credit, And live, to lie, and swear again in fashion, Oh, 'twere a master-piece! Ha! curse me! Cæsar? How's he got off?

Enter CESAR, PTOLOMY, ANTONY, DOLABELLA, ACHOREUS, APOLLODORUS, and Soldiers.

Casar. The fire has took,

And shews the city like a second Troy ;
The navy too is scorched; the people greedy
To save their wealth and houses, while their
soldiers

Make spoil of all: Only Achillas' troops

Make good their guard; break through them, we are safe.

I'll lead you like a thunderbolt!

Sept. Stay, Cæsar.

Casar. Who's this? the dog Septimius?
Ant. Cut his throat.

Dol. You barked but now; fawn you so soon?
Sept. Oh, hear me !

What I'll deliver is for Cæsar's safety,

For all your good.

Ant. Good from a mouth like thine,

That never belched but blasphemy and treason, On festival days!

Sept. I'm an altered man,

Altered indeed; and I will give you cause

To say I am a Roman.

Dol. Rogue, I grant thee.

and easy,

For your escape.

Ant. I'll trust the devil sooner,

And make a safer bargain.

Sept. I am trusted

With all Photinus' secrets.

Ant. There's no doubt then,
Thou wilt be false.

Sept. Still to be true to you.
Dol. And very likely.
Casar. Be brief; the means?
Sept. Thus, Cæsar:

Circle us round!