Have chang'd my thankless native foil for Egypt,
Whose interests now my heart's laft blood fhall ferve.
If Egypt then is loft, Septimius is an exile;
And what can Egypt fave, but Cafar's friendship?
What gain that friendship, but your hate to Pompey?
What prove that hatred real, but his head?
Which trembling on a fpear, to Cafar's view,
Crowns all his toils, for, then, unrivall'd empire.
Cafar knows men, and bears no lukewarm friend;
With him, who stands fufpected, is condemn'd:
Be cautious, Sir, he is not ferv'd by halves!
As then fincerity muft gain his heart;
So must we strike our daggers home to Pompey's.
If your Egyptian refolution faints,
I have a Roman arm, that wants employment;
The blame or merit of the deed be mine;
And while 'tis mine alone, fame shall confefs,
Pompey, like Rome herself, cou'd only fall.
By Romans.
Acho. Ifis and Ofiris guard us!
Ptol. Your voice, Photinus, now concludes our mea fures!
Shall Egypt league with Pompey, or with Cafar?
Pho. I grant your kingdom, Sir, to each indebted:
Pompey begs for payment: Cafar expects it.
If you fail Pompey, Pompey may reproach you.
If you flight Cafar, Cafar can revenge it.
Pompey's relief demands your certain ruin!
Cafar's ambition will expect his head.
To talk of obligations, gratitude,
And honour balanc'd with a nation's fafety,
Better befits the dreaming fanctity,
Of anchorets, than vigilance of monarchs!
When empires are at flake, nothing is juft,
Or great, but what implicitly maintains 'em..
Pompey is routed-and in compliment
Invites us to partake his ruin. Gods!
Because he fav'd us once, does he conclude
He therefore has a right to our deftruction?
For now to aid him, "gainft the arms of Cafar,
Were to renew. the giants' war with heaven..
What laws of nations, justice, or of honour,
What contracts, leagues, or treaties bind us down,
To prop this falling Pompey with our bones,
To be by Cafar crufh'd, and trampled into ashes ?
No, Sir, the ruin Pompey brings, repel
Upon his head! join you the caufe, the gods
Have own'd, and turn your fword on Cafar's foes!
One blow fecures his friendship, and your crown!.
If not for Egypt, ftrike for Ptolomey.
Confider your divided title, Sir,
Your royal fifter's claim, her provocations!
Her arts! her female fpleen, and beauty!
Dreffing her wrongs in tears, and Cæfar amorous;,
Her foft complainings blowing him to flames!
Will he refufe to right fo fair a fuitrefs?
At least, Sir, give him not pretence t'inforce
Your father's will, or what were worse,
T'inveft her folely with the fov'reign pow'r,.
And veil his veng'ance in an act of justice.
Ptol. No more! that thought embitters all remorfe.. Were Pompey dearer to my heart than life; Rather than ferve my fifter's haughty pride,
My rage, like thunder, in the port fhou'd fink him! Achillas, and Septimius, you obey
The orders of Photinushark, your ear!**
[Whispering apart.. Acho. Nay, then the horrid refolution's fix'd! My farther counsel will be useless here! Hence then, to royal Cleopatra haste,
With Pompey's fate alarm her nobler foul,.
And try what terrors may be form'd, to fave him.
Pho. Delay may give him doubts of his reception;
He may retreat and hoift his fails for Afia.
The present hour's too precious to be lost;
In execution of distressful measures,
'Tis expedition gives them life and luftre.
Ptol. You then, Achillas and Septimius, haste,,
Take to your aid the parties you have nam'd;
Rush on the inftant, to a deathlefs fame,
And give repose to Egypt.
Sept. And to Pompey. [Exeunt Achil. and Sept.
Ptol. The refolution fix'd recalls my fpirit!'
I am again myfelf! fet free! I reign!
Conclude we then that Pompey is no more,
And that his death buries my fifter's claim:
For how oe'er on Cæfar the relies,
Her right had stronger hope from Pompey's aid,
Whofe friendship to my father was fo firm,
He undertook, as warden of his will,
To place my fifter on the throne, my equal!
But now-
Pho. Thofe glories with her champion perish!
Whofe head fecures you in the heart of Cajar.
Ptol. But fee, my fifter; in her look, furprise,'
And wild emotion eager to be heard.
Cleo. Sir, I'm inform'd, great Pompey is arriv❜d, And that your counfel paufes to receive him.
Ptol. Your voice and gesture, Madam, fpeak reproach; Which neither fits your ftate to give, or mine To bear; kings are accountable to none.
Cleo. To more than fubjects, by the laws of honour : Their luftre ftands on eminences fixt,
That the inferior world may gaze, and cenfure!
How vain is glory, when it gives not wonder!
How mean is majefty, that dares be thanklefs!
Ptol. Your cares for Pompey are at my expence.
Your bounty's great, for want of pow'r to give:
Were Egypt yours, your virtue wou'd have bounds.
Cleo. Were not your virtue limited, my pow'r
And right in Egypt wou'd to yours be equal.
I fend, at leaft, to Pompey's aid, my wishes,
And that's a merit which your greatnefs wants.
Why go you not in perfon to receive him?
Ptol. I know myfelf, and know the state of Pompey.
Septimius and Achillas have their orders.
Cleo. Are thofe fit agents for your gratitude? Owe you not your crown to Pompey's favour?
Ptol. Be due, what may, to him: now Cæfar claims it, Cleo. Can you forget fuch godlike benefits?
Ptol. Was Cafar's gold out-weigh'd by Pompey's fpeeches?
Has Cæfar less demands on gratitude,
Because he can confirm the crown he fav'd?
Cleo. But hapless Pompey, not reliev'd, must perish!
Ptol. And if reliev'd, you'll make my peace with
Cafar!
Fair fifter, you may spare your interceffions,
They're loft on one, that knows their motive!
You live in hope, that Pompey's fortunes may
Retrieve your own; you think him bound t' enforce
My father's will, and therefore with him pow'r;
This is the thin disguise your virtue wears!
Hence flows this torrent of benevolence!
But, Madam, know, the wiles of your ambition,
With Pompey's hopes, may perish in the port!
Cleo. Immortal gods! and dare you own the treason?
Ptol. I glory in the deed, that guards my crown,
And levels your prefumption to obedience.
Cleo. Obedience to fuperiors must be due;
And who, in Egypt, is the queen's fuperior?
The force, and fortune of injurious arms,
'Tis true, have robb'd me of my regal power:
But my foul's empire is in me alone.
That foars above the reach of violence,
And from its heighth, with fcorn regards your triumph.
Ptol. Be, then, that mighty monarch of your mind;
Rage on, and fhew how ill you govern there,
While I content myfelf with ruling Egypt.
Cleo. First, Sir, redeem yourself from flavery!
From the pernicious counsellors that sway you!
That, thro' the heart of Pompey strike at me:
That with falfe politicks miflead your youth,
To brand our Egypt with eternal infamy!
Pho. Photinus, Madam, dares avow the counsel.
Cleo. I fpoke, Sir, to the king; when I defcend
To you, then take with me that liberty.
Ptol. Pafs it, my friend; the infult is to me. Pho. Therefore a fubject lefs might bear it, Sir. Ptol. I grant, her earlier birth fhou'd give example; But female imperfections must be borne.
She finds her hopes of empire loft with Pompey.
Cleo. I fcorn the thought. If intereft were my view,
I fhou'd not plead for Pompey, but for Cafar!
Ptol. Your fecret views are to yourself best known.
To me they feem perplext, and intricate.
Cleo. Since you provoke me then, receive a fecret,
That will, at once, contound your barb'rous counsels,
And make your merit in loft Pompey's blood
Hateful to Cafar, as to gods, and me.
Ptol. Difcharge this thunder then; I stand prepar'd,
And ready for the bolt.
Cleo. Attend and tremble..
When rude rebellion feiz'd on royal pow'r,
And drove our exil'd father from his throne;
To Rome, as to his only hope, (as now
Pompey to Egypt flies) he fled for fuccour ;
And to incite the fenate's nobler pity,
Myfelf and you attended his diftrefles..
Your age was unfufceptible of care,
But mine (or flattery deceiv'd me well)
Bloom'd in full beauty, and attracted hearts:
Yet of my conquests I fhall boast but one :
Cafar pretended love: I urg'd him to a proof:
He gave the noblest he reftor'd our Egypt.
Pompey was then his friend; him Cæfar wrought
At my defire, t' engage the fenate's aid;
'The eloquence of Pompey had fuccefs:
This gen'rous deed! (O dreadful piteous thought!)
Was the laft product of their fading friendship.
But Cæfar ftopt not there! the fenate's aid
Was but a public act, his opening heart
Pour'd out his private treasure with his love,
And from the bounty of that fecret flame,
We reap'd the profit of fupprefs'd rebellion.
My confcious father, on this truth reflecting,
Thought half, at leaft, was due to her that fav'd
The whole, and therefore at his death bequeath'd'
Me equal fway, co-heirefs of his throne:
While you, unknowing of his noble motive,
Reproach his memory with partial care,
And make my right, by force of arms, your spoil..
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