« EelmineJätka »
Cleo. Oh, tell me so again!
And take ten thousand kisses for that wordMy lord! my lord! speak, if you yet have being!
Sign to me if you cannot speak! or cast
Char. Remember, madam,
I have not loved a Roman not to know
What should become his wife-his wife, my These ensigns of your pomp and royalty?
For 'tis to that high title I aspire;
And now I'll not die less. Let dull Octavia
Iras. Will you then die?
Cleo. Why shouldst thou make that question? Fly both, and bring the cure of all our ills. Iras. Cæsar is merciful.
Cleo. Let him be so
To those, that want his mercy: My poor lord
Char. Whatever you resolve,
I'll follow, even to death.
Iras. I only feared
For you, but more should fear to live without
Cleo. Why, now 'tis as it should be. my friends, Dispatch! ere this the town's in Cæsar's hands: My lord looks down concerned, and fears my stay,
Lest I should be surprised:
Keep him not waiting for his love too long.
With them the wreath of victory I made
Iras. The aspicks, madam?
[Er. Char. and Iras.
Tis sweet to die, when they would force life on
To rush into the dark abode of death
We are now alone, in secrecy and silence,
These pale cold lips-Octavia does not see me;
Cleo. Dull, that thou art! why, 'tis to meet my love,
As when I saw him first on Cydno's bank,
Char. 'Tis done.
Cleo. Now set me by my lord; I claim this place,
For I must conquer Cæsar, too, like him, And win my share of the world. Hail, you dear relicks
Of my immortal love!
Oh, let no impious hand remove you hence,
Iras. Underneath the fruit the aspick lies.
[Putting aside the leaves.
Ser. The queen, where is she? [Within. The town is yielded, Cæsar's at the gates. Cleo. He comes too late to invade the rights
Cleo. Already, death, I feel thee in my veins;
I go with such a will to find my lord,
A heavy numbness creeps through every limb,
And lay me on his breast!-Cæsar, thy worst!
Enter SERAPION, two Priests, ALEXAS, bound, and Egyptians.
2 Priest. Behold, Serapion, what havoc death has made!
Ser. "Twas what I feared. Charmion, is this well done?
Char. Yes, 'tis well done, and like a queen,
Of her great race. I follow her. [Sinks down. Dies.
She has done well: much better thus to die,
Ser. See how the lovers lie in state together,
And went to charm him in another world.
CHAMONT, a young soldier of fortune, brother to MONIMIA, the Orphan, left under the guardian
ship of old Acasto.
SERINA, Acasto's daughter.
FLORELLA, Monimia's woman.
Enter PAULINO and ERNESTO. Paul. Tis strange, Ernesto, this severity Should still reign powerful in Acasto's mind, To hate the court, where he was bred and lived, All honours heaped on him, that power could give.
Ern. 'Tis true, he hither came a private gentleman,
But young and brave, and of a family
Paul. It was his virtue at first made me serve him;
He is the best of masters and of friends:
Ern. Has he not reason? When, for what he
Long, hard, and painful toil, he might have claimed
Paul. Yet still he holds just value for the king, Nor ever names him but with highest reverence. 'Tis noble that.
Ern. Oh! I have heard him wanton in his praise,
Speak things of him might charm the ears of en
Paul. Oh, may he live, till Nature's self grows old,
And from her womb no more can bless the earth!
Ern. No; he has two sons, that were ordained to be
As well his virtues' as his fortune's heirs.
They came twins from the womb, and still they live,
As if they would go twins, too, to the grave:
Ern. Never was parent in an offspring happier;
He has a daughter too, whose blooming age
Paul. And as there is a friendship 'twixt the brethren,
So has her infant nature chosen too
A faithful partner of her thoughts and wishes, And kind companion of her harmless pleasures. Ern. You mean the beauteous orphan, fair Monimia.
Paul. The same, the daughter of the brave Chamont;
He was our lord's companion in the wars; Where such a wondrous friendship grew between them,
As only death could end. Chamont's estate
To seek a fortune, or a noble fate;
"Tis daily their petition to their father,
Paul. Oh, that's a royal sport!
e yet may see the old man in a morning, Lusty as health, come ruddy to the field, And there pursue the chase, as if he meant To o'ertake time, and bring back youth again. Exeunt.
SCENE II-A Garden. Enter CASTALIO, POLYDORE, and Page. Cast. Polydore, our sport
Has been to-day much better for the danger; When, on the brink, the foaming boar I met, And in his side thought to have lodged my spear, The desperate savage rushed within my force, And bore me headlong with him down the rock. Pol. But then
Cast. Ay, then, my brother, my friend, Poly
Like Perseus mounted on his winged steed, Came on, and down the dangerous precipice leap'd, To save Castalio. 'Twas a godlike act!
Pol. But, when I came, I found you conqueror. Oh, my heart danced to see your danger past! The heat and fury of the chase was cold, And I had nothing in my mind but joy.
Cast. So, Polydore, methinks, we might in war Rush on together; thou shouldst be my guard, And I be thine; what is it could hurt us then? Now half the youth of Europe are in arms, How fulsome must it be to stay behind, And die of rank diseases here at home?
Pol. No! let me purchase in my youth re
To make me loved and valued, when I am old;
Has taken himself a surfeit of the world,
Pol. Castalio, I have doubts within my heart,
Pol. Nay, I'll conjure you too,
By all the strictest bonds of faithful friendship,
Pol. And should I chance to touch it nearly, bear it
With all the sufferance of a tender friend.
The fair Monimia. Is your heart at peace?
Pol. Suppose you should not, brother?
Pol. That would sound too roughly
Twixt friends and brothers, as we two are.
Pol. In one of us it may be.
What if I love her?
Cast. Then I must inform you
I loved her first, and cannot quit the claim,
But will preserve the birth-right of my passion.
Pol. You will?
Cast. I will..
Pol. No more, I've done.
Cast. Why not?
Pol. I told you I had done:
But you, Castalio, would dispute it.
Not with my Polydore; though I must own
Pol. Yet you will break this friendship.
Pol. But for a toy you would, a woman's toy; Unjust Castalio!
Cast. Prithee, where's my fault?
Pol. You love Monimia.
I may grow desperate,
And take a wife to mortify withal.
Pol. It is an elder brother's duty so
To propagate his family and name:
Pol. Who shall possess the estate you leave?
If he survives me; if not, my king,
Who may bestow it again on some brave man,
Cast. By yon heaven, I love
My Polydore beyond all worldly joys;
To weary pilgrims, or to misers gold,
For if ye, powers, have happiness in store, When ye would shower down joys on Polydore,
In one great blessing all your bounty send,
Mon. So soon returned from hunting? This fair day
Seems as if sent to invite the world abroad.
Mon. Sure some ill fate's upon me.
You would not have yours die and buried with I fear its harm, and fain would have it back. you?
Cast. Mere vanity, and silly dotage all.
No, let me live at large, and when I die~~~
Come near, Cordelio. I must chide you, sir. Page. Why, madam, have I done you any wrong?