But hafte! conduct us to this fair diftrefs.
When Roman virtue is opprefs'd by fate,
'Tis meet the victor on the vanquish'd wait. [Exeient.
SCENE, An Apartment near the Port
Cornelia bound. Septimius fpeaking to the Roman Guards.
Sept. Why loiters thus your bufy officer?
Is this fit treatment for the friends of Cæfar?
Was't not this arm, that gave him, at a blow,
The head, that fam'd Pharfalia cou'd not reach?
Muft we, that bring him captives to compleat
His conqueft, wait, like fuitors to present ther;
Miftaken Decius may repent this infult!
}
I'll take no thanks, 'till Cæfar has reveng'd in
Corn. Miftaken murderer? talk'st thou of vengeance,
For any treatment, that infults thy ee?
Cafar, tho' fteep'd in blood, abhors th' affaffin!
His arms, tho' impious, ftrike no coward blows!
Shall murder claim the wreaths of conqueft?
If Cafar's caufe provok'd thy hate to Pompey,
Why, like a foldier, fought'st thou not in battle,
Where arm'd, where fword to fword thou might'st have
charg'd him?
There had his wounds, at leaft, confeft thee brave,
And Cæfar, then, without a blush had grac'd thee.
But as thou art deteftable to man,
'Tis fome affuagement to Cornelia's woe,
That even the foes of Pompey muft avenge him.
Sept. Enjoy thy empty notions of dishonour!
Decifive blows, in fpight of railers, have
Their merit.. Cafar knows the ufe of valour:
And, for great actions, must have hands intrepid.
Corn. Why did I waste my breath on infamy!"
But frantic forrow to the winds will talk!
Enter Cæfar, Decius, and Attendants. Sept. Moft mighty Cafar! ere my tongue prefumesCaf. Cæfar difdains to hearthy deeds have fpoke
Decius! difarm, and fee him closely guarded,
Till injur'd dignity pronounce his doom!
Cornelia's bonds deform the pride of war!
These are not Roman, but Egyptian fetters.
The virtuous never wear the chains of Cafar.
[Cæfar relcafes her. Septimius is bound and led off.
Cor. O Cafar! hadst thou conquer'd thus for Rome,
How greatly might this grace of power become thee!
But while thy fword is drawn against her laws;
O'er every Roman, whom thy arms diftrefs,
Such fpecious comfort is injurious infult!
Cornelia Cannot thank thee, for her woes!
If by forme public crime I have deferv'd them,
Whence then this pity? If I'm innocent,
Let Cafar name the power, that dares t' inflict them?
Caf. When civil difcords to the fword appeal,
From wharfoever part the wrong commences,
Neither can bout of innocence in war!
Corn. Give up thy own, but fpare the fame of Pompey! What fenate own'd thy caufe?
Caf. What gods crown'd his?
But, oh! what gods, or fenate, cou'd defend
The fword, that brings Cornelia to affliction?
Corn. Cæfar, thou hurt'it me more by this compaffion,
Than all thy terrors, in the rage of war!
Yet boast not, victor, of thy fword's fuccefs!
Cornelia's fate has loft the caufe of Rome!
My cruel destiny has fought for thee!
To that, a victim fell my first lord, Craffus!
By that was Pompey vanquish'd, not by Cæfar!
Thou, but the hand of fate that follow'd me!
But that, th' inevitable will of Jove
Had long prefix'd my ruin, to thy fortune,
The liberty of Rome had 'cap'd thy chains,
Nor had thy impious arms o'er Pompey triumph'd..
Caf. Alas, we talk on too unequal terms.
The gentleft truth, that juftifies my arins,
Wou'd now appear a triumph o'er Cornelia.
Corn. Cefar, no! fo impartial is my heart,
Wert thou but innocent, my tears wou'd cease:
Had Pompey's fate been juft, I might have borne it!
But while we see thy fierce ambition profperous,
And Pompey's caufe attended with his blood,
Mankind might think, that heaven itself were fack'd.
That dæmons had ufurp'd immortal power,
Revers'd their laws, and made rebellion virtue.
Caf. Thus virtue, when misled, becomes injurious!
Thou talk'ft of Cæjar, as if Rome were blameless!
As if her fenate had preferv'd her free,
Nor long fince fold her power to private hands!
While clam'rous guilt, and fpecious patriot zeal,,
Wou'd caft on Cafar the reproach of tyranny.
As if my wrongs, and infults, after service,,
Were not the proofs of Pompey's ufurpation:
Of his o'er-bearing their dependant votes,
To crush the fortunes of rejected Cæfar,
Whofe only sword cou'd bar his way to empire.
Corn. Thou dost defame him, Cefar; he was true;, Firm, and devoted to the laws of Rome.
Caf. O Cornelia! O! 'tis with fighs I. tell thee,
Pompey's ambition fhone thro' all his arts!
Even to contempt of Cafar, it inflam'd him.
Had he receiv'd my terms of peace with candor,
These defolations never had reproach'd us :
Each had been glorious in a private life;
Nor had Cornelia's widow'd arms deplor'd.
Corn. Provoking, grofs infinuation! Peace!
Thou know'it thy terms were offer'd as a feint,
T' amuse the senate, and protract thy fentence.
Caf. That feint fhou'd have been prov'd: had I receded, Then had his arms-But flatt'ring fame deceiv'd him ; 'Twas ev'n his common boaft, if he but ftampt His foot, what legions, at the found, wou'd wait him! Corn. Cou'd it be boast, to think his caufe might call 'em?
Caf. The caufe of Cafar--wanted not its numbers. Corn. When violence and rapine found to arms, Bankrupts and prodigals are warm for war.
Caf. 'Tis granted. Pompey's army was fuperior.
Corn. Superior far in virtue, not in fpoilers!
His troops were cumber'd with the fons of peace,
Men train'd to civil arts, to laws, and science!
Whom place and plenty had difus'd from toil;
Unfkill'd in war, yet, for their birth-rights, Romans!
Souls that difdain'd their bodies, when enflav'd;
And therefore left them, on Pharfalia's plain,.
To taint the air with Cafar's fhameful glory.
Caf. When Cafar, like the fenate, fhall mifufe
The truft the gods affign, let gods forfake him.
Corn. Cæfar, fome fay thou hast a human heart,.
O'er private forrows melting to compaffion.
Caf. I feel Cornelia's woe, tho' fhe contemns
My pity.
Corn. I retract the pride: My heart
Is humbled, Cafar, while the general woe
Thus bends me to thy feet, with tears for Rome!
Have pity on her wounds! her fighs! her groans!:
O yet relent! and conquer with compaffion!
Compofe the wailing world, and yield us peace!.
Thy tender parent, Rome, is not obdurate!
I know her, by my own remiffive heart!
In bare imagination of the joy,
It melts, forgets its private grief, nor more
With Pompey's ruin will upbraid thy glory!
O! yet restore her freedom! yet relieve her!
Here end thy conquefts! Conquer Cafar, now!
And, like victorious Sylla, crown'd with vengeance,
Refign that power, which gods nor men cou'd shake.-
Caf. While earth contains a Roman, that prefumes
With means coercive to reduce my power,
All thoughts of peace are but inglorious dreams..
Let Julius ceafe to be, or now be Cæjar!
Rome may deteft, but cannot taint my power!
What conquer'd Roman is not free to leave me 2-
What enemy, when captive, is not pardon'd?
What are the marks of Cafar's tyranny?
But, O Cornelia! fpite of all my boasts,
Thy pale calamities upbraid fuccefs,
And, like a chilling froft, deface my laurels !
Cæfar, at beft, can but revenge thy Pompey!
There fhall thy tears yet triumph o'er his foes
And Cefar's focial grief revere his fame.
But I detain thy forrows from repofe;
What comforts Egypt can fupply, command:
Decius, fee thou her ftate be equal to
The Roman matron's dignity: her friends,
Her followers, all receiv'd like friends of Cæfar.
[Cæfar retiring to the end of the feene, meets Antony,
They feem to talk apart, while Cornelia Speaks.
Corn. Am I, ye gods! fo fallen! fo greatly wretched!
That he, who bears unmov'd the groans of Rome,
Can lend a figh to loft Cornelia's woe!
Yet dares not the be thankful? Rigid fate!
While Cafar is the foe of Rome, what great,
What noble virtues, am I doom'd to hate?
[Exit, led by Decius.
Caf. But what, my Marcus, could fo long detain thee?
Ant. To Cæfar ever has my heart been open :
From thee, there's not a frailty there conceal'd!
Why was I chofen for this fatal errand?
O! I have drank my ruin, at my eyes!
Deform'd my faith, betray'd my truth to Cafar!
From thee, as from a conqueror, I came,
Affur'd of triumph, but return a captive!
Her tow'ring charms at once o'erbore my foul !
I fpoke for Cafar, while I figh'd for Antony!
Caf. We, Marcus, will be ever friends! a friend
[Taking his band,
Outweighs th' indulgence of a fhort-liv'd joy.
Prove, that thy fighs prevail'd upon her heart,
And Cæfar's cancel'd hope refigns to Antony.
Ant. This bounty, Cafar, binds me to the truth.
Hope had I none, but what my weakness form'd.
Pleading for thee, I trembled at fuccefs;
While her advancing fmiles gave me defpair!
When, with thy conquefts, I adorn'd thy flame,
A confcious pleasure fparkled at her eyes,
Unheedful of the wretch, that burnt, before her..
If love were criminal, defpair has punish'd it.
Cef. Defpair and love ne'er vex the foldier long!
Or abfence is a fure relief-
-If not,
When Cafar fhall difpofe of provinces,
Egypt may fall to Antony'till when-
Ant. May Cafar's fortunes lead him to his wishes.
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