Caligula a tragedy, as it is acted at the Theatre Royal, by His Majesty's servants / written by Mr. Crowne. Crown, Mr. (John), 1640?-1712. 1698 Approx. 163 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 33 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2008-09 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A35270 Wing C7376 ESTC R13012 11696946 ocm 11696946 48241

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A35270) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 48241) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 812:11) Caligula a tragedy, as it is acted at the Theatre Royal, by His Majesty's servants / written by Mr. Crowne. Crown, Mr. (John), 1640?-1712. [8], 52, [4] p. Printed by J. Orme, for R. Wellington ... : and sold by Percivil Gilborne ... and Bernard Lintott ..., London : 1698. Reproduction of original in Huntington Library.

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eng Caligula, -- Emperor of Rome, 12-41 -- Drama. 2006-08 Assigned for keying and markup 2006-08 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2007-11 Sampled and proofread 2007-11 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

CALIGULA. A TRAGEDY, As it is Acted at the Theatre Royal, BY His MAJESTY's Servants. Written by Mr. Crowne.

LONDON: Printed by J. Orme, for R. Wellington, at the Lute in St. Paul's Church-Yard, and ſold by Percivil Gilborne, at the Harrow, at the corner of Chancery-Lane, and Bernard Lintott, at the Croſs-Keys in St. Martins-Lane, near Long-Acre. 1698.

ADVERTISEMENTS.

☞ There is lately publiſhed the Hiſtory of Polybius the Megalopolitan, containing an Account of the Affairs of the whole World. Tranſlated by Sir Henry Sheers and Mr. Dryden, in three Volumes, the third never before Printed.

Love in Ruins, or, the Fatal Diſcovery. Impoſture Defeated, or a Trick to cheat the Devil. Mrs. A. Behns three Plays will ſuddenly be printed, viz. The Round-heads. City Heireſs, or Sir Timothy Treatall. Young King, or the Miſtake.

An Italian Voyage, or, a Compleat Journey through Italy. In two Parts. With the Characters of the People, and the Deſcription of the chief Towns, Churches, Monaſteries, Tombs, Libraries, Pallaces, Villa's, Gardens, Pictures, Statues and Antiquities. As alſo, of the Intereſt, Government, Riches, Force, &c. of all the Princes. With Inſtructions concerning Travel. By Richard Laſſels, Gent. the Second Edition.

Tho. Brown's New and Eaſie Method to underſtand the Roman Hiſtory, by way of Dialogue, for the uſe of the Duke of Burgundy. Done out of French with very large Additions.

To the Right Honourable HENRY Earl of RUMNEY, Maſter-General of the Ordnance, Lord Warden of the Cinque-Ports, Gentleman of His Majeſty's Bed Chamber, and one of the Lords of His Majeſties moſt Honourable Privy-Council, &c. My Lord,

AN addreſs of this kind, from a Man ſo idle and unuſefull as I am, is at all times unſeaſonable; to a Perſon, whom the Wiſdom o' the King, and the good Fortune o' the Kingdom, employ in ſo many great Affairs, as take up your Lordſhips hours. But it can never be more out of time, than now; when your Lordſhip is in ſorrow, for the loſs of your Brother, the late great Earl of Leiceſter, who mourns not, that knew him? All that knew him, lov'd him, if they lov'd mankind; for, a greater Example of humanity, the World, I believe, has ſeldom found. All honour'd him, that knew him, if they valued Truth and Wiſdom: ſo much good ſence ſell from him, in his common Converſation, that none convers'd with him, but were both Entertain'd and Improv'd, if they were capable of it. And, no doubt, many great Men were the greater for his Acquaintance; and thus, tho' in a private Life, he influenc'd the publick: and the whole Kingdom was the better for him. Some ſurvive themſelves, and their Underſtandings die before 'em. His mind retain'd its wonderfull vigor to the laſt: He was pleaſant to all, when years and pains ad taken all pleaſures from him, but what he found in doing good of his bounty, I have often ſhar'd, and ſo have many more. And, I was always extreamly proud of any marks of favour from ſuch an impartial and diſcerni •• Judge. I cou'd dwell on ſo pleaſing a ſubject, as the extraordinary Qualities of this great Nobleman: but ſince, Providence has taken him from the World, to number up his deſerts and vertues were but to ſet before your Lordſhip your loſſes, and the misfortunes of the Kingdom. Now I am entring on another copious ſubject; what does this Kingdom owe your Lordſhip? you have been in ſeveral Reigns, one of the greateſt Ornaments of England: but you have of late been one of its fortunate preſervers: your Lordſhip was an eminent Inſtrument in this Revolution, which has been ſo happy to England, and the greateſt part of Europe. Had not this change been, almoſt all Europe had been overrun by France; England, for certain, had loſt its Rights, Liberties, and Religion, and perhaps, been no more a Kingdom, but a Province to France, a Vaſſal to Vaſſals, and for all its Wealth had nothing but a Wafer. What cou'd have ſtop'd that inundation of power, which was rolling on, and ſwelling as it roll'd, delug'd many parts of Europe, and threatned all? What cou'd a formidable Fleet and Army, almoſt innumerable, have ask'd of a few divided Counſellors, at White-hall, which they durſt have deny'd? And what a glorious figure does England now make, in compariſon of what it did ſome years ago? It lay one Reign becalm'd in Luxury: In another Fetter'd: In this Reign it has not only freed it ſelf, but humbled France, and protected Germany, Spain, and Holland, and appears one of the greateſt Powers in Chriſtendom. How much then is owing to your Lordſhip, by whoſe Wiſdom, and Courage, this Revolution was contriv'd and carry'd on; in a Reign, when the leaſt oppoſition to unlimited power, was judg'd an unpardonable Crime? But, I may quit this ſubject, ſince what your Lordſhip has done, will make a noble part of Engliſh Hiſtory. In this Play, I ſet Tyranny before the Eyes of the World, and the dreadfull Conſequences of lawleſs and boundleſs power. But ſome wou'd not have the World frightned with ſuch a Figure nor an Image of a Government profan'd, which they adore: 'Tis well for 'em, that they worſhip an unknown God. If their Dwellings and Eſtates, (if they have any) lay in the reach of a mighty Prince, whoſe Will is Law, I believe, they wou'd be glad if they were ſecur'd from Forreign Invaſions, by the Engliſh Seas; and from boundleſs power at home, by Engliſh Laws. I have ſuffer'd ſeverely, and therefore may be allow'd to ſpeak. The Favour, or rather Authority, which a mighty Neighbouring Kingdom, had in our Court ſome years ago, got my Inheritance, which, tho' it lay in the Deſarts of America, would have enabled me (if I cou'd have kept it) to have liv'd at my eaſe in theſe beautifull parts o' the World; the loſs of it has made England a Deſart to me. No wonder then if I am pleaſed with the Succeſſes of our Wiſe and Valiant King, who was born to free and do juſtice to oppreſt mankind: and, I hope, to my ſelf. And now, I doubt not, but your Lordſhip, who has been ſo inſtrumental in preſerving and eſtabliſhing the Liberties of all Engliſhmen, will alſo permit a Poet to enjoy Poetick Liberties. I mean, that leave which has been long granted, of addreſſing to ſuch great Men as your Lordſhip, for your Favour and Protection I need Encouragement from others, becauſe I have none from my ſelf. No Man can have a meaner opinion of me, than I have of my ſelf. I am oppreſt by my ſelf, I will not ſay by my modeſty, for modeſty is a vertue; and modeſty and boaſting are inconſiſtent; my fortune has long languiſhed under an unmanly ſpiritleſs temper of mind, which makes me rather chooſe to ſuffer than give trouble to any: nay, than to ſeek the favour of thoſe, who take a pleaſure in obliging. A Poet may very well hope for Patronage from a Nobleman, who is of the blood of Sir Philip Sidney. And I have found your Lordſhip ready to aſſiſt me: your Lordſhip addreſt to the late Queen of ever-bleſſed Memory, in my behalf. And, by your interceſſion, I had a large ſhare of her Princely Bounty: and, no doubt, I ſhou'd have had more, if England had longer enjoy'd her. And now, my Lord, I humbly beg your Lordſhips favour, not for this Play, but my ſelf: at leaſt, that I may have leave thus publickly to honour my ſelf, with the Title of,

My Lord, Your Lordſhips Moſt humble and Moſt thankfull Servant. John Crowne.
THE EPISTLE TO THE READER.

I Cannot blame the World for any unkindneſs I receive from it, I ſeldom make any court to it. And I have ſo much affected retirement and ſollitude, that a Writing of mine, like an Inſcription on a Wall, at Belſhazzar's Feaſt, comes from an unſeen Scribe. And the Judgment paſt on Balſhazzar, and my Emperor is in ſome meaſure the ſame: Thou art weigh'd in the balance, and art found too light. Many ſay, there is more levity in the Character of this Emperor, that ſuits with the dignity of ſo great a Prince, and the gravity of Tragedy. But with what does the Emperor ſport himſelf? with the honour of Women, the fortune and lives of Men, and the ruin of Nations. And I thought there was ſo much good nature among mankind, that Spectators would have trembled, when they ſaw Kings and Kingdoms, forc'd to yield up their Rights, Religions, Laws, and Gods, to the Luſts and Frenzies of a young fantastical Tyrant, and all the World at the diſpoſal of a mad Man. But to pleaſe, I ſhou'd have ſhewn a more beautifull figure. So I have in Valerius and many other Characters in this Play. I have alſo beautified the Emperor's Character, and all parts of the Play, with as much good Senſe and Poetry as are in any of my writings: For I will compare my ſelf only with my ſelf. And few of my contemporaries have pleas'd the World much more than I have done, both in Tragedy and Comedy. But many ſay, the Play wants Plot; I confeſs, I think it does. I have put little more into the Play, than what I found taken out of Hiſtory. All the Characters and moſt of the Events in the Play, I have taken out of Hiſtory; and I have made as lively Images, of what I found there, as I believe can be done by any Man. This was unknown, it ſeems, to a great part of my Audience, therefore they condemn'd the Character of Vitellius; his flattery to the Emperor and courtſhip to the Empreſs: particularly his begging a Sandal of hers, as a reward for his Services, and when he had it, his carrying it in his boſome, and ſometimes kiſſing it. This was a Complement he made to Meſſalina, the belov'd Lewd Wife of the Emperor Claudius. By his flattery and addreſſes in the Reigns of three or four bloody Tyrants, he kept himſelf not only ſafe and whole; but raiſed his fortunes to ſuch a heighth, that his Son Aulus Vitellius, who had not one good quality, came to be Emperor of Rome. I thought moſt Gentlemen had more skill in Hiſtory, Poetry, Courtſhip, and Addreſs to Greatneſs than I perceive they have. But, I will not farther diſpleaſe by contending. I confeſs, I wrote this Play, when I was under great diſorder, not in mind. For I never lov'd much any part of this World, but a Friend, and merit in a Friend or Enemy. I never ſought more than the bare conveniencies of life. But want of health makes life it ſelf an inconvenience. I have for ſome few years been diſorder'd with a Diſtemper, which ſeated it ſelf in my head, threatned me with an Epilepſie, and frequently took from me not only all ſenſe, but almoſt all ſigns of life, and in my intervals I wrote this Play. Therefore if it have any Wit or Poetry in it, I wonder how they came there. But many of the firſt rank, both for Quality and Ʋnderſtanding, have ſaid they were pleaſed with it, and therefore I value it. Now I will ſay one word in defence of my Morals.

I cannot but take notice of ſome lines I have read in the Preface to the Poem call'd King Authur, where the World is told, that all who have written before the Author of the Mourning-Bride, may be aſham'd, ſince for want of a Genius, they have depended on bawdy for their ſucceſs on the Stage. I much commend that Gentleman's deſign of Reforming the Stage from Obcenity, Immorality, and Profaneneſs; But I wiſh he had taken more care of his Pen: I mean not in his Poem. I will not quarrel with that, if it gave me cauſe. In my notes on a Play call'd the Empreſs of Morocco (I call 'em mine becauſe above three parts of four were written by me) I gave vent to more ill-nature in me than I will do again. But I am ſorry that the Learned Author of King Authur, who labours ſo commendably for Vertue and Morality in Plays, ſhould ſet an ill Example, and injure Truth and the Reputation of his Brethren. Many of my Plays have been very ſucceſsfull, and yet clean. Sir Courtly Nice, was as fortunate a Comedy, as has been written in this Age; and Sir Courtly is as nice and clean in his Converſation, as his Diet and Dreſs. And Surly, though he affects ill manners in every thing elſe is not guility of obſcene talk. I have fallen, (I confeſs) in other Plays of mine, into a worſe fault. I have, in my Jeruſalems, made too beautifull an Image of an Atheiſt; and Atheiſm appears too reaſonable and lovely. I am ſorry there ſhould be any thing under my hand, in defence of ſuch a falſe, pernicious, and deteſtable an opinion: Some endeavour to clear me of the guilt, and wou'd perſwade the World they were written by a Noble and Excellent Wit, the late E. of R—But they were Printed long before my Lord died; his Lordſhip in his Poem, call'd the Seſſions of Poets, charges me not with theft, but my Scenes with dulneſs and want of Wit and Poetry, which he wou'd not have done, if they had been his own. But ſince there is too much Atheiſm in thoſe Plays, I am content they ſhou'd be thought not mine, or not good. I had rather have no Wit, no Being, than employ any part of it againſt him that gave it.

ACT the Firſt. SCENE the Imperial Palace in ROME. Enter, at ſeveral doors, Valerius Aſiaticus, and Annius Minutianus. Val. A. MY noble Lord Minutianus, I'm glad to ſee ſo good a Man alive, And wonder at it; for as the times are, When any good great Man has a new day, He has new life, at leaſt a new reprieve; For by the Emperor he's decreed to die. An. M. Indeed, my Lord, ev'ry new day to me Seems a new pleaſing ſhining Prodigy: I lift my eyes with wonder at the Sun, Nor look to ſee him more when day is done; And when night comes, I am awhile afraid I'm not alive, but in th' Infernal ſhade. Val. A. Caeſar has broke the Fortunes, and the Hearts Of half the World; Men are but half alive. An. M. Sometimes your Lordſhip gives our hearts ſome hope, But then your League with Caeſar frightens us. Val. A. Oh! two proud Men to Friendſhip ne'r encline; You may as well two lofty Mountains join. If cloſe in League Caeſar and I appear, It is becauſe you do not ſee us near. So when imperfectly remotely ſeen, Two Mountains on each other ſeem to lean; Approach 'em near, you'll find 'em wondrous wide, Int'reſt and Nature do the great divide: Pride is a friendleſs Vice, and foe to Pride. I've had ſucceſs in War, and got renown; And Caeſar hates all glory but his own. [Enter Caſſius Cheraea viewing himſelf in a Pocket Looking-glaſs. Why, how now Caſſius? Ca. Ch. My moſt noble Lord! Val. A. Examining thy Figure in a Glaſs? That Glaſs is a diſſembler, Caſſius. Thou wou'dſt not love it if it told thee truth, For then the ſhadow on that Dial ſhewn, Wou'd let thee know thy Sun is going down: Th'art in thy fall, witneſs thy falling hair, Yet thou wou'dſt paſs for young with all the fair. Oh! Caſſius! thou haſt wander'd far from Youth, And thy young dreſs tells ſcandalous untruth. That th' art in heart a Hector, who wou'd gueſs, Whilſt th' art a wanton Paris in thy dreſs? Paris was not accoutred with ſuch Art, Thy habit is a Libel on thy Heart. An. M. Oh! but a Manly daring Soul lurks deep, Under this gentle Lady, like outſide; Which Caeſar takes a pleaſure to deride. Val. A. Nay, Caeſar ought to ſpare him allow, Caeſar's grave only in his frowning brow: He folds his brow in frowns; had he his will, Baſilisk like he'd with his aſpect kill. But this ſierce Monarch, in unmanly dreſs, Is oft extravagant to mad exceſs. His Robes, like Chryſtal waves, around him flow, At once his Limbs and Luſts they lewdly ſhew. His only coverings, in his wild attire, Are blazing Gems, which make him ſeem o' fire. His wriſts in Bracelets far out-ſhine the Stars; You'd think 'em Comets, and fear Plagues and Wars. An. M. Ay, and his Sandals powder'd o'r with Gems, Exceed in ſplendor Regal Diadems. Val. A. They are ſo wondrous ſoft, and eaſie too, He feels the ground no more than if he flew. Ca. Ch. Dreſſes are Politicks of Love; he's wiſe, And ſteals to hearts of Ladies, through their Eyes. Val. A. Were Caſſius led to die, he'd die well dreſs'd, To leave a Dart in ev'ry Ladies breaſt; And to his death he'd gracefully advance, As if he only lead a ſolemn Dance. And loſs of life wou'd grieve him leſs, he'll own, Than loſs of love; the dead are lov'd by none. Ca. Ch. No, from dead Lovers living beauties fly, And ſoon let all remembrance of 'em die. Our Images for years in Marble ſtay; Our Images in Hearts ſcarce laſt a day. Val. A. Well Caſſius, though you ſoft and frail appear, Caſſius is hardy, valiant, and ſincere. Calm to a Friend, a tempeſt to a Foe, With his hand active, though in ſpeech he's ſlow. He fights as if he had a thouſand Lives, But for preferment modeſtly he ſtrives. In Court he yields, in danger leads the way; Wins, yet can ſcarce be ſaid to gain the day. Of ſpeech he's ſparing, lib'ral of his bloud; To all, but to himſelf, he's juſt and good. Ca. Ch. This from your Lordſhip? I am over-paid For all I've done. Val. A. No, there are great Arrears Due to thy Fortune, and thy Honour both, Injur'd by Caeſar. Ca. Ch. I am wounded by him, In a more tender part, my Conſcience; He often forces me, to ruine thoſe Whom I am bound in conſcience to defend. The fortunes, nay, the fleſh I'm forc'd to rend Of thoſe, who have no faults, but Wealth or Power; And thus my ſelf I torture ev'ry hour. For all the miſeries I impoſe, I feel; And my heart bleeds when guiltleſs blood I ſpill. Becauſe I faintly act this cruel part, Caeſar is pleas'd to ſay I want a Heart, And has my tenderneſs in great diſdain; He thinks I'm not a Man, becauſe Humane. Val. A. Nay, Caeſar counts humanity a crime: Well Caſſius, you may have redreſs in time. [Several go over the Stage, carrying Robes and Crowns. Behold a fooliſh oſtentatious ſhew, Of Robes and Crowns, won in the German War; Not by the Valour of the Emperor, He never ſtoops in Perſon to ſubdue, He fights by Proxy, as great Princes wooe. He dares not look on War; a while ago, He march'd to'ards War, and made a noiſe and ſhew, Which through the German Woods a horror ſpread; The haſty Rhine to Sea more ſwiftly fled. He had two Armies. Ca. Ch. No, my Lord, but one. Val. A. Yes, Caſſius, I lead gallant Men, and Caeſar A flying Camp of ranting Concubines, Who flam'd, and gave a luſtre to the day; No Meteors were ſo bright, or hot as they. Caſſ. Ch. Ay, but my Lord, theſe falling Stars, 'tis known, Though bright aloft, are Jellies when they're down. Val. A. That you have often found; now what became Of this Bravado, and attempt on Fame? It dwindled to a Farce, and fooliſh Scene; For his Light-Horſe, light Concubines I mean, With Caeſar in their head began to fly, On the firſt News the enemy drew nigh: To look on a brave Foe they durſt not ſtay, The German Trumpets blew 'em all away. An. M. They have ſome wounds I'm told. Val. A. In Fame they have, And ſcratches which the Quick-ſet Hedges gave. Caeſar is often prancing, on the Road. To War, but long e'r danger is abroad. Like a hot early Spring he oft ſets forth, Not to enrich, adorn, but blaſt the Earth; Whilſt ſweet young Beauties, in their lovely May, Like bloſſoms round him blow, but far more gay: And when approaching dangers rudely threat The ſplendid Prince, he and his buds retreat; He wiſely keeps in War a Regal State, Makes danger from himſelf at diſtance wait, But with ſtiff pride enters an empty Town, His Troops have won, and aſſumes their renown. Ca. Ch. Second-hand Glory appears ſomewhat bear. Val. A. Second-hand Cloaths he may as proudly wear. With all their Lawrels then a Prince is crown'd, Who ne'r ſaw fight, nor felt a noble wound. Wounds he has had, but they were all behind, For yet his face danger cou'd never find; But he'll triumph in Perſon, o'r the bold, For Victories he never durſt behold. Now in triumphal pomp he enters Rome, Leading thoſe chain'd he durſt not overcome. And now who dares but in a look betray, The leaſt contempt of this illuſtrious day, Sacred to th' honour of th' Imperial Sword, And the vaſt pride of our vain-glorious Lord? An. M. You of his pride and vanity complain; Oh! wou'd to heaven he were only vain. But he has Vices I abhor to name; They cover me with everlaſting ſhame. His Siſters were all wonderfully fair; Part of that beauty I deſir'd to ſhare. The youngeſt then ſeem'd to have ev'ry grace; Her beauty gave a luſtre to her race. I humbly begg'd his leave for an addreſs, And angry Heaven curs'd me with ſucceſs. I got his Siſter, and let that ſuffice To expreſs all the plagues Hell can deviſe. By Heavens, he whor'd her on the Bridal Night; Nay, which is more, he whor'd her in my ſight. Val. A. She was his Siſter I may ſafely ſwear; No race beſides affords ſo lewd a pair. Enter Vitellius ſad and drooping. I pity this great Man, in War he's brave, In Court he is a cautious fawning ſlave. Caſ. Ch. He views the ground with a dejected eye. Val. A. And with good reaſon he expects to die. An. M. For what offence? He has rul'd Syria well, And humbled haughty Kings who durſt rebel; As Fame reports. Val. A. Court deeps but few can ſound; Tyrants and Prieſts in myſteries abound. Perhaps their Arts will not the light endure, They ſtrike moſt awe, like Temples, when obſcure. This ſad and thoughtful Hero lets approach, Try if his painful wounds will bear the touch. My Lord Vitellius, you ſeem full o' care, And out of Aſia bring a cloudy air, Which weighs your Eye-lids down; what ſhou'd it mean? You fortunes has been ſmiling and ſerene, And yet you ſigh as if your heart wou'd break. Vit. My Lord, I'm bruis'd, I have ſcarce ſtrength to ſpeak; I've had a fall, which makes my Vitals bleed. I fell from Heaven. Val. That's a high fall indeed. Vit. From Caeſar's favour. (He bows low.) Val. A. Why de'ye bend ſo low? Vit. To Caeſar's Image in my thoughts I bow. [He always bows when he names Caeſar. I honour my own thoughts when Caeſar's there, And when he's nam'd, I reverence the air, And lowly towards the awful ſound encline; The air is then, methinks, a holy ſhrine. Val. A. Your prudent, courtly temper, I commend, But I had rather make proud Monarchs bend, And with crown'd Victims my devotions pay; So I wou'd worſhip Caeſar ev'ry day, And now bring Princes to adore his Throne. Caeſar's my Prince— Vit. And God.— Val. A. Well, that I own. To Caeſar I'll not grudge a pompous word; And how he pleaſes he ſhall be ador'd. [Shouts.] Vit. Theſe ſhouts tell joyful news, that Caeſar's nigh; Oh! I've his glorious perſon in my eye. His glitt'ring Chariot is of beaten Gold; But in himſelf I Nature's pomp behold. The bounteous Monarch, as he rides along, Rains ſilver ſhow'rs on the admiring throng. Val. A. Bribes to the Rabble; that a Prince ſo proud, [Aſide to An. M. Shou'd ſtoop to purchaſe flattery from the croud; From all bold Foes, but flatterers, he flies; Flattery is a part of his high Luxuries, And none can be too fulſome for his taſte; Thus Wit, and Gold, and Blood, we vainly waſte. An. M. Rome pours into the Court a dazling Croud, With an illuſtrious ſtream 'tis overflow'd. I dare not ſhew my ſelf in Caeſar's ſight; My Lords farewel, may Fortune do you right. [Ex. Enter Caligula, Ceſonia, Attendants, Guards. Val. A. and Vit. retire at a diſtance. Caſſ. Ch. mingles with the Guard. Ceſ. Welcome to Rome once more, my Mars, my Jove; Welcome from War, to Luxury and Love. Well, I am pleas'd to find they've taken care To fill the Palace with a fragrant air. Cal. I have beſtow'd more odours, on theſe Rooms, Than wou'd, I think, perfume a thouſand Tombs. Ceſ. Sir, why do you name Tombs? Cal. Does it become A Heroin, to ſtartle at a Tomb? Ceſ. Nay, I cou'd dwell with pleaſure, on the Graves Of Caeſar's Foes, or his rebellious Slaves. I've a nice Noſtril, with rich perfumes fed, The leaſt offenſive vapour ſtrikes me dead. I can endure no ſweets but what excel; Yet of dead enemies I like the ſmell. Cal. Well, if dead enemies can entertain, Thou haſt been gratify'd this laſt Campagne. [Val. comes forwards, and bows low What wou'd you have Valerius? Val. A. What you pleaſe; I am attending, Sir, on your decrees. Vit. comes forward, bows low, then covers his head and face with his Robe, turns round, then proſtrates himſelf on the ground. Vit. Caeſar, Victorious, Gracious, Pious, Wife, The nobleſt pleaſure of our thoughts and eyes; Scourge of the proud, relief of all the oppreſs'd; Caeſar, of Gods, the greateſt and the beſt. At Caeſar's feet, I humbly proſtrate lie, To live his Vaſſal, or his Victim die. But I wou'd live (if that might be allow'd) To pay thoſe Off'rings I've to Caeſar vow'd; Thoſe Divine Honours are to Caeſar due, The only God that ſtoops to humane view. Ceſ. Sir, in no Mortal all perfections dwell, They've both been faulty, but they've both done well. That Lord in Germany has Battels won; [Pointing to Val. This made the Parthian King leave Babylon, [Pointing to Vit. Croſs his Euphrates, and his ſwelling pride, To pay thoſe Honours he till then deny'd, Caeſar's Divine protection to implore, His Eagles, and his Images adore. Vit. Madam, the glory wholly I diſclaim, To Caeſar's Divine Genius be the fame. Ceſ. Let 'em once more in Caeſar's favour riſe, For all that honour him I highly prize. Cal. Thy Will is irreſiſtible, like Fate; What makes me love thee at ſo mad a rate? Live both in the Commands you had before; Now is there any thing you wou'd have more? [Vit. riſes and bows low. Vit. To kiſs your ſacred feet we beg your leave. [Cal. offers his foot with ſcorn. With humble thanks the bounty we receive. Val. A. We muſt give thanks for ſuch affronts as theſe; And proudly humbling us below our knees. [Aſide. [Both kiſs the Emperor's Sandal. Vit. Oh! how the World is with an Emp'ror bleſt; May I preſume to make one more requeſt? Cal. What is it? ſpeak. Vit. The honour, Sir, to kiſs Th' Empreſſes Sandal;—but 'tis too much bliſs. Alas! I am afraid, I've been too bold. Cal Lucius, your Lips are common, I am told; Oft to the Sandals of the fair you bend, And to your joys from thoſe low Stairs aſcend. Vit. Light, Sir, is common, ſo is vital air, And often kiſs the Sandals of the fair. Cal. Well Lucius, I am in good humour now, And the great honour you have begg'd beſtow. Let 'em adore you, Madam, at your feet. Vit. Oh! bounteous Prince! Oh! Empreſs! heavenly ſweet. [He kiſſes the Empreſſes Sandal, ſo does Val. Cal. Come, you wou'd try my bounty once again; Speak boldly, Man, I'm in the giving vein. Vit. I'd beg the ſhell of that delicious fruit, A Sandal ſweetned by that beauteous foot. Cal. Go fetch him one with ſpeed. [Ex. a Lady. Vit. Tranſporting joy! For ſuch a gracious God, who would not die? [The Lady enters, and gives Vit. a Sandal. Oh! 'twill recal my youth, perfume my breath, Reſtore my health when I am ſick to death. Nay, when I'm dead, make life in me return; I ſhall, to kiſs it, leap out of my Urn. Cal. I once look'd round me as I paſs'd along, And near me I obſerv'd a mutt'ring throng, And in their looks ſaw diſcontent appear, Which grudg'd my pomp, as if it coſt too dear. Do not they know, that Caeſar cannot brook The leaſt offence, but in a word or look? They who will live, muſt not with Caeſar ſtrive, Or dare to let me know they are alive, Till my commands enliven, and inſpire, And warm their boſoms, like Promethian fire. Rome to amazing Inſolence is grown; No doubt, one ſpirit runs through all the Town. Since Rome has but one proud rebellious Soul, Which dares preſume my pleaſures to controul, And in my pomp give me a ſecret check, Wou'd to the Gods all Rome had but one Neck, That I might cut of millions at a blow; Chaerea, fling 'em to my Lions, go. Caſſ Ch. Whom ſhall I fling? Cal. The Rogues I nam'd of late; I'll ſilence Villains who preſume to prate. Caſſ. Ch. Sir, on my knees— Cal. I know thou art afraid; Fear not the ſtubborn Rogues, thou ſhalt have aid. Beſides they are in Fetters. Caſſ. Ch. So am I. Sir, from arm'd enemies I wou'd not fly; But from obeying ſuch ſevere commands, Humanity and pity bind my hands. Cal. Haſt thou humanity, thou fearful ſlave? No, thou art not a Man, becauſe not brave. Val. A. Sir, I have found him brave. Cal. So have not I, The Coward dares not ſee another die; When I have forc'd him to ſtrike off a Head, The executed wretch look'd not ſo dead. Begone. [Ex. Caſſ. Ch. Val. A. Forgive me, Sir, if I am bold, And the dark thoughts of mutt'ring Rome unfold. Si you engage in Wars, which coſt you dear; But, Sir, no reaſons for thoſe Wars appear. Cal. Muſt I give reaſons, Sir, for my Decrees? I may do what I pleaſe, with whom I pleaſe. Perhaps I burn proud Towns, and ſlaughter Men, Only to pleaſe my humour, Sir—what then? When wild Convulſions divide ſtreams from Springs, Roul Hills o'r Hills, the Rabble o'r their King; Lift Common-wealths to Realms, ſink Realms to States; What are all theſe, but Gambols o' the Fates? But to eternal Glory I addreſs In all my Wars, with infinite ſucceſs. I, for my Glory, ſeize on Regal Crowns; To make my Glory blaze, burn wealthy Towns. The Gods, for Glory, Worlds from Chaos won; The Gods, for Glory, kindled up the Sun, And ſet that noble part of Heaven o' fire; I'm hourly urg'd by ſuch Divine deſire. Ceſ. Inglorious Princes are but half alive, And want a ſence worth all the other five. Val. A. The Pris'ners, Sir, whom you have doom'd to bleed, Have begg'd of me that I wou'd interceed, Sir, with appeals to Heav'n, they all declare They mutter'd nothing, but a Loyal Prayer For bleſſings, on your Perſon, and your Crown, And admiration of your great renown. Cal. Am I delighted with a Fool's applauſe? No more, by Jove, than were I prais'd by Daws. Val. A. Sir, theſe Mens lives are below your regard, They've ſent Petitions; Sir, ſhall they be heard? Cal. Ay—Sing 'em. Val. A. Sing 'em? I've no skill in Song; I ne'r ſo idly, Sir, employ my Tongue. Ceſ. Then were I Caeſar, I wou'd have no ear; I wou'd no troubleſome Petitions hear, Unleſs ſung to me with harmonious Ayres. Cal. Prieſts ſing, and make an Opera of their Prayers. Val A. Sir, one thing more: I'told by commo From empty Bowels many murmurs came. The laſt Campagne trod all our Harveſts down; And all the Horſes, in or near the Town, You preſs'd, to bring th' Imperial Treaſures home: Therefore the Farmers cannot furniſh Rome, With what ſupplies they're able to afford; And here our Granaries are all devour'd. And thus, Sir, by your Wars, you grind Mankind; But you will let 'em have no Corn to grind. Cal. Damn 'em, they're over-fed; the mutt'ring ſounds Came from full Bowels; Luxury abounds. War deſtroys Men, but Luxury Mankind; At once corrupts the Body, and the Mind. And thus, a juſt revenge poor Brutes receive, Who die for Rogues that deſerve not to live. Rich Knaves will engroſs Corn, to raiſe the price; And ſtarve Mankind, to feed their avarice. For harmleſs injur'd Beaſts I've ſome remorſe; But my chief care is for my fav'rite Horſe. That Animal is full of noble fire; Go viſit him, and how he fares enquire. [To Vit. who goes out. Ceſ. Heaven! how we ſpoil the pleaſure o' the day. Cal. 'Tis true, my Love; but we will ſoon be gay. The falls of Nations, which fill Cowards with fears, Shall but like Water-falls delight our Ears; And murm'ring Subjects ſhall, like purling ſtreams, But lull us deeper in our pleaſing dreams. [Ex. Omnes.
ACT II. Enter Caligula, Ceſonia, Guards, and Attendants. Cal. W'are deep in Winter, yet methinks the air Has an unnat'ral heat, I cannot bear. Ceſ. Caeſar's ſwift marches have inflam'd his veins; He drives with all the ſpirit that he reigns. I wonder not you left me far behind, Methoughts your fiery Steeds outran the Wind; Winds loſt their breath in giving Caeſar Chaſe, His ſpeed ſeem'd more a Rapture than a Race. When a high Mountain ſhew'd him to my Eye, I fear'd ſome Goddeſs ſnatch'd him to the Sky; Then from my ſeat I oft fell cold and pale, Till I beheld him flaming in a Vale, Saw his bright Chariot, and his glitt'ring Train, Flying like blazing meteors o'r a Plain: His dazling Chariot, though a pond'rous maſs Of ſolid Gold, ſcarce bent the tender Graſs. I'm apt to think there can no prints be found Where Caeſar drove, his Steeds ſcarce touch'd the ground: No, Sir, provok'd by their own fire and you, They ran, rag'd, foam'd; I thought in Clouds you flew. Cal. I love intemperance in all I do. All ſpeed to me but drowſie ſloath appears, I thought I linger'd on the Road for years, And my dull Horſes did not run, but creep; I'd have ſprung hither at one lofty leap. Had I my will, I wou'd range Lands and Seas As ſwift as thought; think and be where I pleaſe. The very minute I begin my flight, I'd pierce all Regions, at a ſtart, like light. Ceſ. You'd range all Lands, new beauties to ſubdue; For your deſires the World has not enow: And without toyl, you'd give a beauty chace, You wou'd but think, think in her embrace. Cal. We call Men conſtant, when they're dull and tame; Thus imperfection gets a noble name. I have a heat which never can be cool'd; A ſpirit in me which can ne'r be rul'd; It rages whilſt 'tis in my boſom pent, Nor can a thouſand Beauties give it vent. When I am deluging your Arms with bliſs, You never think me guilty of exceſs. Aegypt is not more pleas'd with flowing Nile; But if I rove to others Arms awhile, Of my intemp'rance you complain aloud; Though it be but a momentany flood, You think you have a dreadful dearth in view; Madam, was Caeſar only made for you? Ceſ. Jove had, no doubt, intentions more divine, But Caeſar will not be a moment mine. My heart in Caeſar lives, to Caeſar grows; Therefore I never have an hours repoſe. Repoſe? His many wandrings tear my veins, And give me wounds which have tormenting pains. Cal. You love an Emperor, that I ll not deny; Who, but a Caeſar, can your heart ſupply With all the pleaſure, wealth, and pow'r it craves? Now you have Queens for your Domeſtick ſlaves, And all delights that nature yields in call; Were there more Emp'rors you wou'd love 'em all. Ceſ. No, Sir, of all Men, Emp'rors wou'd I ſhun, They are myſterious, underſtood by none. But this I know, what are ſo much above All Kings on Earth, 'tis arrogance to love; And, to my ſorrow, I have found it vain, For having all things, all things they diſdain. Caeſar is pleas'd with beauty, whilſt 'tis new, And the next hour thinks it not worth his view. A while I'm graceful in the Emp'rors thoughts, And the next moment ſeem all over faults. Now I've all beauties, then I've all decays; Now ſudden ſtarts of joy, then ſharp always. Now I'm in luxury, and then in tears, And always ſhaken with confounding fears. Cal. Oh! my Ceſonia, prithee have a care, Impoſe not on me more than I can bear. This Neck is ſoft, ſo is not Caeſar's Heart; This Head and Neck how eaſily can I part? But though in Caeſar thou haſt no delight, To thy fair ſelf thou art a pleaſing ſight; And by all Eyes thou art with wonder ſeen: Oh! I am loath to ſtain ſo white a skin. 'Tis pity ſo much beauty ſhou'd be loſt, Thou wilt not be ſo lovely when a Ghoſt. Ceſ. I find I'm pleaſing ſtill in Caeſar's Eye, And therefore now I'm very loth to die; No joys in the moſt ſweet Elizian Grove, Can equal the Remains of Caeſar's love. With pomp and power I am pleas'd, I own; But Caeſar far outſhines his glorious Throne. Were Caeſar but my equal, were he lower, Had but that graceful perſon, and no more, From all Mankind to Caeſar's arms I'd fly, And think no Goddeſs is ſo bleſt as I. Cal. Oh! thou art made exactly to my mind, Fair to perfection, fond though l'm unkind. Faithful thou art as the ſeverely chaſte, And yet as Venus wanton, when embrac'd. I have a thouſand Venuſſes in thee; Once more I love thee to a mad degree. New beauties for a moment ſnatch my Eyes, And entertain me, whilſt they're novelties. Ceſ. Caeſar will oft abandon me I know, But one hours love will rich amends beſtow. I am luxurious, freely I confeſs, But Caeſar, Caeſar is my Sovereign bliſs. From Caeſar's Lips divine Ambroſia flows, His breath in ſweets excels the Syrian Roſe; And when I have his Arms I think I'm dreſs'd, The Queen of Heaven has not ſo rich a Veſt. In Caeſar's Arms in extafies I lie, Like a mad Propheteſs, entranc'd with joy; Whilſt a God fills me all my ſpirits fly. Cal. No, my Ceſonia, I muſt do thee right, Thy ſpirit gives a life to my delight; A livelier Beauty Caeſar ne'r enjoy'd, Thou haſt more life than all thy Sex enjoy'd. Ceſ. Now I'm compos'd, and fit for great Affairs, Your Glory muſt a while employ my Cares. Enter Valerius Aſiaticus, Lucius Vitellius. Oh! come my Lord, tho' in this laſt Compagne You gave us too much reaſon to complain, Your ſervice, for your faults, make great amends; And I rank you among the Emp'rors friends. Cal. Th'art proud, and therefore I think Caeſar's friend, Thy haughty heart can to an Emp'ror bend; My pow'rs by Jove and Nature were beſtow'd, By ſerving me thou ſerv'ſt an Earthly God. Senators oft are of ignoble blood, And all their pow'rs the Off-ſpring of the Croud; Can thy proud heart endure thoſe Men ſhou'd reign, Whom thou woud'ſt ſcarce admit into thy Train? Will one ſo brave, by Cowards be controul'd? And one ſo rich, let Bankrupts rule his Gold? So Wiſe to Blockheads for Advice repair, In all the great Affairs of Peace and War; Depend on the reſult of empty prate, And account Fools the Oracles of State. Val. A. I wou'd not be a ſlave, to ſlaves, 'tis true; Our Senators are ſolemn ſlaves to you. If I muſt ſerve, on Caeſar I'd depend; For as the Ladies, who on Queens attend, Are by the World Ladies of Honour ſtil'd, Tho' of their Honour they have been beguil'd. So, Sir, if Honour can to ſlaves be due, They're ſlaves of Honour, who are ſlaves to you. L. Vit. Spoke like a Nobleman, and Man o' ſence; 'Tis an illuſtrious thing, to ſerve a Prince So great, ſo glorious, ſo renown'd, ſo wiſe, What Vaſſal wou'd not ſuch a glory prize? Val. A. When he has Caeſar's favour in purſuit, He'll lick the duſt beneath the Tyrant's feet. [Aſide. Caeſar's a God, and Caeſar ſays I'm proud; A God knows all the ſecrets of our blood. Therefore, no doubt, I'm oſtentatious vain, The Characters he gives me I'll maintain; I will be proudly faithful to my truſt, To all Mankind I will be proudly juſt: All danger, Sir, I'll haughtily deſpiſe, To ſerve you boldly fight, as boldly adviſe. Your ſervice to your pleaſure I'll prefer, And boldly ſtop you, if I think you err. Cal. Stop me? Val. A. By Councel, tho' it coſt my Head; Even by your ſelf I will not be miſled. Cal. Will I be judg'd, and govern'd by my ſlaves? Val. A. I'll judge, and if I can I'll rule your Knaves. I'll offer, and I'll ſuffer no abuſe, Becauſe I'm proud; pride is of mighty uſe. The affectation of a pompous name, Has oft ſet Wits and Heroes in a flame; Volumes, and Buildings, and Dominions wide, Are oft the noble Monuments of pride. Cal. Then I'm your lofty Building? Have a care, This from no other Man on earth I'd bear. Thou rul'ſt thy Emperor, I know not how; More than thou dar'ſt demand, I dare beſtow, Have all a Vaſſal can from pow'r derive, Tho'th'art the boldeſt proudeſt Man alive. Val. A. All this I durſt not have preſum'd to crave; My thanks I'll on your foes in wounds engrave. Ceſ. In ſerving Caeſar, rich rewards proceed From the meer conſcience of the noble deed; But yet is Caeſar ſo Divinely good, He over-pays his Warriors for their blood. I'm ſure, my Lord, your recompence is great, [To Val. A. You've Rubies for your blood, and Pearls for ſweat; Y'ave Provinces for all the Fields y'ave won, And Realms for all the Kings y'ave undone. L. Vit. Higher rewards than theſe my ſervice meets, This Province, Madam, [He takes out of his boſom the Empreſſes Sandal. 'Tis all over ſweets. Here dwelt a foot, a Wonder of its kind, And left a thouſand fragrancies behind. Cal. How falſe are Men, both in their Heads and Hearts; And there is falſhood in all Trades and Arts. Lawyers deceive their Clients by falſe Law; Prieſts, by falſe Gods, keep all the World in awe. By their falſe Tongues ſuch flatt'ring Knaves are rais'd; For their falſe wit, Scriblers by fools are prais'd. Whores, by falſe beauty, Venuſſes appear; Hect'ring Faux—braves o'r Cowards, domineer: Look round the World, what ſhall we find ſincere? Ceſ. The Senate, Sir, attend. Cal. Well, let 'em wait. How dare you, in my Ear, name what I hate? I'll have no Guardians, I'm at Age to reign; What my Birth gave, my Courage ſhall maintain. I will endure no Partners in my Throne, I ll govern as I pleaſe, and rule alone. Do not I trample Kings beneath my feet? Will Caeſar then let his own ſlaves be great? Caeſar ſhall be the only Soveraign Lord, And Senate be a vain and uſeleſs word; And therefore wholly laid aſide, ere long, Amongſt the Rubbiſh of the Roman Tongue. Val. A. Then will the name of Emp'ror be low; Sir, your Throne ſtands on golden Columns now, On Men who are by Birth and Fortune great; Wou'd you be King of Beggars, ſix you ſeat On a vile Dunghil, on the dirty Croud? This by your friends can never be allow'd. Sir, your miſtakes are your moſt dang'rous foes, And for your ſervice I'll your ſelf oppoſe, And in the face of any danger fly; You have not a more faithful friend than I: Compar'd with Caeſar's ſervice, how I ſlight Danger and Death, I've often ſhew'd in fight. Ceſ. Cheriſh him, Caeſar. Cal. Well, let quarrels ceaſe; Th'aſt a great Genius, both in War and Peace. But love not, if th'art one of Caeſar's friends, A Senate; for the very name offends. But call 'em in, for they ſhall quickly know I have a farther quarrel with 'em now. Enter the Conſuls and Senate. When Caeſar by a Triumph honour'd Rome, How durſt you tarry ſullenly at home, As if my Victories you proudly ſcorn'd, Or thought 'em curſes, and in darkneſs mourn'd? Val. A. Who dares reply? for to this raving Prince What can be ſaid, that will not give offence? [Aſide. Con. The honour, Sir, we humbly did implore To fill your Triumphs, to be triumph'd o'r, To be led Captives; but we beg in vain, Our great devotion met your high diſdain. Cal. 'Tis true, I ſcorn all honours you beſtow, And you reſent th' affront; ha! is it ſo? Con. That were preſumptuous arrogance indeed; Sir, with united hearts, we've all decreed The higheſt honours— Cal. How? Dare you pretend To grant me Honours? Honour muſt deſcend. Con. We humbly beg— Cal. You'd beg me for a Fool; Beg me to own you have the Sovereign rule: By this Decree, you ſawcily invade Imperial Power, Imperial Glory ſhade. Affronts from his own ſlaves, will Caeſar bear; Refuſe, or grant me Honours, if you dare Con. My errors wrong the Senate I perceive; To ſhew our love we humbly beg your leave. Cal. Your love? Mankind is envious vain and proud, Love nothing that's above 'em, bad or good. You hate a Prince, unleſs he'll tamely bear Partners in power; let Senates have a ſhare. Where Laws, and domineering Senates reign, Princes are ſlaves in purple, ſlaves in grain; Sword bearers to a many-headed Lord, I mean the Croud, and weak upon Record; For ev'ry Law made by the State, implies, That Princes are defective, Senates wiſe. Such Demi-Kings have half your hearts, no more, While they have any ſhare of Soveraign power; But if a Prince entirely quits his Throne, He's lov'd by all, becauſe he's fear'd by none. The Votes of Senators, tho' ne'r ſo great, Shall but like Ecchoes my commands repeat; So Forreſts may adviſe, and utter Law. L. Vit. The wiſeſt Monarch the Sun ever ſaw. Cal. Fear me, I care not how I am abhorr'd, Your hearts I'll have; with my Imperial Sword, I'll rip 'em from your Breaſts, when I think good: In ſhort, I'll have your Duty, or your Blood. This you all know, and therefore you'll obey; Fear is the Parent of all Sovereign ſway. Val. A. Sir, with triumphant pomp, to Court they've brought Your Image wrought in gold; is that a fault? Cal. My Image may have faults, the Gold has none; 'Tis th' only faultleſs thing below the Sun. Ceſ. No, Caeſar, no; if Art has done you right, Th' Image is faultleſs; bring it in my ſight. If Caeſar's graces in the Image ſhine, There is no gold on Earth, ſo rich, ſo fine. This ſhining ſhadow, I wou'd feign behold; This conſtant ſhadow fix'd in ſolid gold. Enter Prieſts in Proceſſion ſinging, carrying a golden Image of the Emperor, attended by the Conſuls and Senate. The SONG Sung by the Prieſts. HAIL! Mighty Prince, whoſe loud renown O'r ev'ry Region flies; On whom with wonder Gods look down, And gaze with envious eyes. Whom, more than Hell, all Nations fear, And more than Heav'n obey; Who o'r-runs Kingdoms ev'ry year, With Jove has equal ſway: Who ruins Realms, enriches Graves, Makes mighty Kings of humble Slaves, And Slaves of mighty Kings; His praiſe, this great Aſſembly here, With all devotion ſings. Our bloody Wars are ended; The Sword is now But worn for ſhew; And the ſtubborn bow unbended. Our hours of eaſe, and leiſure, We'll give to pomp and pleaſure, And Songs in praiſe of Caeſar, Who War with glory ended. The Sword is now But worn for ſhew; And the ſtubborn Bow unbended. Now Peace begins to heal our wounds, And all our wants repair; We'll Plough the Seas, and Plough our Grounds, And Plough the tempting fair: Our lofty Tow'rs ſhall ſcale the Sky, Our Wealth unbounded, like our joy, Shall fly more free than air: Our Wars are done, And the World is won, So now farewel to care. [Ex. om.
ACT III.
The SCENE continues. Enter Valerius Aſiaticus, Annius Minutianus. An. M. CAESAR triumphs, and is by Rome ador'd, For Battels won by your victorious Sword. Val. A. 'Tis true, to triumphs he has ſmall pretence; Put wou'd y'ave me proudly out brave my Prince, And boaſt I won thoſe Fields he durſt not ſee? This wou'd be fatal ſaw cineſs in me. Soldiers in fight their courage ſhou'd diſplay; They have a triumph when they win the day. Let them be brave againſt the bold and great, But humble to all thoſe beneath their feet. An. M. A gen'rous thought. Val. A. In moſt triumphal ſhews, A conqu'ring Coxcomb o'r a beaten crows. The fopp'ry in the Hero then appears, The Lyon's couch'd, the Aſs pricks up his Ears. Vain oſtentation does too oft enſlave, The learn'd, the wiſe, the mighty, and the brave. The Man of Learning, no content can reap From all his knowledge, till he ſpreads the heap, And great applauſe, and admiration gains; For that poor chaff, how he will thraſh his brains? He is-in throws before, but then he's eas'd; When he's a publick fool he's highly pleas'd. For Fame vain Wits take all their ſoaring flights; For Fame the oſtentatious Hero fights; For ſhew, with wounds will be embroider'd o'r, And deeply died in his own purple gore. An. M. Vain oſtentation deforms ev'ry grace; 'Tis like a bliſter in a beauteous face. Val. A. 'Tis hard to know, whoſe brains have wider flaws, They who ſit ratling chains, and pleating ſtraws; Or they who toyl, only for vain renown, To wear in Hiſtory a paper Crown. Whilſt Caeſar now, for a deſign ſo vain, Takes Poets and Hiſtorians in his Train; How like a Lunatick this Prince appears, Pleas'd becauſe Bells hang jingling at his ears? •• us he reſolves oblivion to ſubdue; 〈◊〉 and the graces of his perſon too, In ſtrong and lively colouring diſplay'd, And in bold Images, ſhall time invade. For this are famous Artiſts kept in pay, And Art brings forth dead Caeſars ev'ry day; You will ſee all our Gardens and Abodes, And Temples crowded with thoſe ſilent Gods And for his likeneſs, he'll ſit brooding long, With all the pains that Birds do, to hatch their Young. An. M. Well, this Campaign the Emperor ventur'd far; I think, he march'd to the frontier of War. Val. A. Yes, and he bore ſome little Princes down, Whoſe fall will give no ſound to his Renown: Their Provinces he might with eaſe o'rerun: On my War-Horſe I could have leap'd o're one. An. M. Your Lordſhip is the Pillar of his Throne; But, that's a truth Caeſar diſdains to own. Val. A. I ſupport Caeſar? Be not ſo profane; Caeſar's a God, to him all aid is vain. An. M. Who can that impious Flattery endure? His Father was a mortal Man, I'm ſure. Val. A. His Godhead both from Chance and Nature came; 'Tis a Convention in his Sacred Frame Of Divine Atoms; it was not begot, 'Twas an original and glorious lot. Thus his Atheiſtick flatterers blaſpheme, Hum'ring their hot-brain'd Emperor's waking dream. Vaſt fortunes bred the frenzy, I confeſs; Feeble mankind can ſuffer no exceſs: Fortunes too high, or low, wrack humane thought, But fortune only has not been in fault; The Empreſs too, did her aſſiſ •• nce joyn, And often gave him Philters in his Wine; Then this proud folly firſt began to Reign, Succeſſes turn'd, and drugs Diſeas'd his Brain. Enter Caſſius Cheraea. Caſſius, I'd rais'd thy fortunes by commands, But thou haſt Enemies, which hold my hands: Howe'er I'll raiſe thy Honour, if I can, I do not know a more deſerving Man. Caſ. Ch. In the eſteem of ſuch a noble Friend, My Lord, I to an envi'd height aſcend; The Emperor's pleas'd to call me Coward, and Fool, Becauſe he always finds me ſoft and cool; And always ſlow in ſhedding guiltleſs blood, Caeſar may give what titles he thinks good. I've many faults, but boaſting is not one; If any thing deſerving praiſe I've done, I'm not much pleas'd to hear it oft proclaim'd; But yet, methinks, I'm loath to be defam'd. Val. A. Oh! my good Lord, I've in this Veſſel found Excellent Metal, tho' it yields no ſound. He who ſeems here, only an Image dreſt, A piece of fine Court-furniture, at beſt; In War is more then Man. An. M. So I've been told. Val. A. I've ſeen Barbarians numerous, and bold, Fly from this Man, like Locuſts from a ſtorm; Wonders in War, I've ſeen him oft perform: But of rough Caſſius, after a Campaign, No marks but in his ſcars and wounds remain. Here all his time on pleaſure he beſtows; He riſes late, and riſes to repoſe On a ſoft Couch, where Wine drowns all his care; Or on the ſofter Boſoms o' the fair. Where Amorous dalliance, and wanton Play, Is all the toil in which he waſts the day. Caſ. Ch. My Lord, I love all pleaſure nature yields; The joys of wanton Beds, and bloody Fields. Perhaps your taſt'e and mine may not agree; Whilſt I have Life, I wou'd ſhake all the Tree: I'd have Wine and Women, Muſick and Renown, And thus have all my days go ſweetly down: I wou'd not let one moment run to waſt, No, nor go off, with an unpleaſant taſte. Fearfull and melancholy minds prepare For their laſt hours by Sacrifice a •• Pray'r, Contemplate bones and ſculls: But I deſign To part with life, over a Glaſs o'Wine: I'll fill my Eyes with beauty, e're they cloſe, And Songs ſhall lull me to my long repoſe. Val. A. But whilſt your time you eagerly beſtow On the warm ſide of life, where pleaſures grow: Men think you not the gallant Man you are, That all your Manhood lies among the fair. An. M. So, Caeſar thinks, and tramples on his brow, But Caſſius does not ſeem to feel the blow; But he is to admiration calm and tame; And all his anger is a lambent flame. Caſ. Ch. Oh! no, my Lord, I feel the heavy blows, Nor have I all the patience you ſuppoſe; 'Tis true, I keep my painful Wounds unſeen; But wounds, when inwardly they bleed gangreen. Reaſons there are, why I ſeem patient now; But I, one day, may let the Emperor know. I love not to oppreſs, or be oppreſs'd; But every thing is in its ſeaſon beſt. Man has his hours of ſleep, when he's embalm'd With that ſoft unguent, and lies all be calm'd; Trees have their ſeaſons, when you'd think 'em dead, But Nature finds a time to lift her head. And ſhortly Caſſius may his vigor ſhew, And make the World ring, with a dreadfull blow, Shall ſettle Regal Diadems; which now Totter, on many a trembling Prince's brow; But all our bonds write in Imperial gore. That I'm a Man, and Caeſar is no more. An. M. This ſudden lofty flame has made me ſweat; Oh! Caſſius, worthy of a name ſo great: May'ſt thou in fame and fortune, far exceed The Renown'd Caſſius, who made Julius bleed. Val. A. Have I not told the Emperor, I'm his Friend, That Caeſar, againſt Caeſar, I'll defend? That, to encreaſe his Empire and Renown, By Wars, which I may honourably own: I'll in the face of my danger fly? And doſt thou hope I'll give my ſelf the lie. Let Caeſars Life be ſtoln by baſe ſurprize, And own my ſelf a Villain in diſguiſe? On Faith and Honour I have fixt my foot; And for that ground with Caeſar I'll diſpute. Perhaps his favour, nothing can retain, In my own favour I'll to death remain. Caſ. Ch. Does not your Lordſhip every moment ſhed Blood, guiltleſs blood; by guarding Caeſar's head. Val. A. He's young and fiery; and has a Brain Deſeas'd by drugs, and Knaves the dregs of Men. All the corruptions of a Land repair To Courts, and fill 'em with unwholeſome air: A Monarch with great vertue is endu'd, If he appears but moderately good? Caſſius your wrongs are not to me unknown, Nor that all Nations under Caeſar grown. But I'll to him, and all mankind be juſt, Prote •• his Perſon and oppoſe his Luſt. I'll 〈◊〉 by Counſel firſt to ſtop his courſe; Th •• ••••• ng, I'll to fair and open force. In Caeſar's faults, or yours, I'll have no ſhare; (Beckons to an Officer of the Guard. Secure this Tribune, Sir, with utmoſt care. An Officer,with a Guard; carry of Caſſius Cheraea a Priſoner. An. M. My Lord, a noble ſpirit you diſplay; But yet, my Lord; this I muſt boldly ſay: You feel not Caeſar's faults, as thouſands do; A decent diſtance they have kept from you. They have not yet approach'd your heart or head; Nor ſeiz'd your fortune, or de •• 'd your Bed. Va. A. My Bed! An. M. Your Bed, as mine he oft has done; His brutal Luſt, has oft my Bed o're run. On remote ſires, with ſmall concern we gaze, But we all riſe when our own dwellings blaze Had Caeſar and your Wife been kind— Val. A. Been kind. No more, I ſweat when e'er their names are joyn'd. An. M. You wiſely keep her out of Caeſar's ſight, And in ſafe privacies engroſs delight: You never ſuffer her to ſee the Town, And thus ſecure her honour and your own. Val. A My Lord, I'd ſtab her, if ſhe ſhou'd preſume But to look towards, or own ſhe dreamt of Rome? Damnation! She's in Court, in this Lewd Court: I pray, my Lord, for your own ſake retire, Of my Domeſtick troubles take no ſhare, You have enow, and more than you can bare (Exit. An. M. Enter Julia, attended. Why, how now, Madam, am I diſobey'd? What has allur'd you, from your Sacred ſhade To Rome, where ev'ry Vice has open ſway; Revells and Rages, in ſight of day? Jul. My Lord, I'm overjoy'd with your Renown; Spoil not my pleaſure with an angry frown. Why do you look with ſuch a threatning brow? My Lord, you are not in a battle now. Val. A. I'm in worſe danger, as I've cauſe to fear; For you expoſe my life, and honour here. If e're you come in ravenous Caeſar's eye, Your beauty Il be devoured, and I ſhall die. Jul. I'll guard my ſelf. Val. A. I'll not truſt your defence; I'll hurry you a hundred Leagues from hence. Your Beauty ſhall not flouriſh in report; I'll furle that banner up, remote from Court. Shell I diſplay your tempting white and red, And challenge Caeſar to invade my Bed; Provoke the proud Adulterer to my Couch, And be Procurer to my own Reproach? Jul. You have confin'd me, till I wiſhed to die; Th' unborn have as much joy in life, as I. Val. A. Caeſar and you I labour'd to divide; But, ſhame and ruin, what have I deny'd? I out of love, confin'd you to a ſeat, I do not think Elezium is ſo ſweet. I kept you a Luxurious Court at home; You had the pomp, without the crimes o' Rome. Had Reaſon Rul'd you, I had pleas'd your mind, But Reaſon is no part of womankind. Your Luſts and Vanities no bounds admit, You're moderate in nothing but your Wit. Jul. This picture of our Sex, not much allures; Now I'll endeavour to delineate yours, Our Follies are akin, but yours are groſs, And ours from beauty have a pleaſing gloſs: Your Fop is but our Ape, he paints the face, And acts our fool without her Charming Grace: Both Sexes vex the World with noiſe, and prate; But we confound a ſtreet, and you a ſtate, Our fools but ſeldom write; your Sex is ſtor'd With fools, who will be Coxcombs on Record, And their impertinence through ages ſpread; Your ſcolds in Books wrangle alive, and dead. Fighting all Women, and moſt Men, abhor; But Women Cowards have wit to keep from War. Your mighty Tyrant Lords our beauty rules; Your greateſt Wits are gull'd by Female Fools. I've youth, I've youth, and pleaſure I'll enjoy, But fear me not, my birth and ſpirit are high, Rather than taint my Family I'd die. Val. A. Of Caeſar's wickedneſs I'm moſt in fear, Madam, begone, you're in a mad houſe here; Not where a Lunitick is held in Chains, But where a great Imperial Madman Reigns. Who tares the World and lays all Nations bare, And when he has enjoy'd he ſtrips the Fair: Of his Lewd love thoſe are Triumphal ſhews, In jovial moodes on Fav'rites he beſtows. The beauteous Empreſs I have oft by night Beheld all naked, like unclouded light, Have often ſeen in wanton poſtures ſpread, That brazen beauty on a Golden bed. Jul. Whatever you ſuppoſe, e're I'd be food To brutal Luſt, Lyons ſhou'd drink my blood. Val. A. Oh! Madam, you have vertues that he ſlights, And Rapes and Rapines, are his high delights. He loves to make all Nature feel his force; Rivers he Raviſhes, and turns their courſe? He levels Mountains, Elevates the Vales, O're waves he rides, and over Lands he ſails. Nay, he builds lofty Palaces on Seas; He ſcorns the Pleaſure he can gain with eaſe: I have been hot; but no one ſhou'd admire In a watch Tower to ſee a bla ing fire. 'Tis kindled up, to lend a needful light To Mariners, in dangerous dead of night: To tell 'em Land is near, they're caſt away, Unleſs they keep aloofe to Sea, 'till day: For ſuch kind ends my paſſion flam'd aloft, But though my words were harſh, my heart is ſoft. Now I'll no more be troubleſomely wiſe; Dwell where thou wilt, with thy own heart adviſe, Study thy pleaſures and regard not mine; To my own boſome, I'll my fears confine. But of my fortunes carve thy ſelf thy ſhare, I will lock nothing from thee, but my care. Jul. This gen'rous Love I never can requite; In pleaſing you, I'll place my chief delight? Rome from this moment I renounce, abjure, I'll not the memory of Rome endure. Nay, in my preſence, no one ſhall preſume To mention infamous and vitious Rome. Val. A. Oh! if this Town ſhou'd rightly be pourtray'd, Hell muſt lend colours, for a diſmal ſhade. Climates there are, which burn the natives black, And ſcorching day appears a fiery Lake. In a more horrid Climate here we dwell, For they are burnt by Heaven, but we by Hell. Here boſoms oft flame with inceſtuous fires, And many Sons are Brethren to their Sires, Our Emp'ror has with high-ſprung Baſtards ſtor'd A thouſand beds, and all his Siſters Whor'd. Jul. Oh! Monſter! Val. A. Stay: He drags thee to his bed, And then his fear and envy take my head; None whom he fears, will he with life entruſt, And nothing that he likes eſcapes his Luſt. Jul. My Chariot;—I abhor a Court ſo Lewd: Methinks it has a ſcent of Luſt and Blood, And I ſhall ſicken, If I longer ſtay; Therefore this very minute I'll away. Val. A. Canſt thou not breath in the ſame air with Vice? Then thou muſt quit the World; th'art over nice. Well, I'll releaſe thee from this dire abode, When I've an hour on ſome affairs beſtow'd. Then I'll along; I hurry thee from hence, Only to ſave thee from lewd violence; Not part with beauty I ſo highly prize, But to ſecure thee to my Arms and Eyes. [Ex.
The SCENE a magnificent part of the Palace. Enter Caligula, Ceſonia, Vitellius, Attendants, Guards. Cal. I have been building, Madam, ſince we went. Ceſ. A palace lofty as the firmament. The Rooms with wondrous pleaſure I behold. Cal. And mark the doors; the hinges are of gold. Ceſ. If Artiſts, Sir, can for the work be found, I'd have the doors yield an harmonious ſound, As all the Heavens do, when e'r they move; And make this palace like the ſeat of Jove. Wou'd this were poſſible to human skill. Cal. What is impoſſible to Caeſar's Will. Vit. No, Caeſar's genius exalts ev'ry mind, Gives a great Soul to Arts of ev'ry kind. Cal. How do thoſe Gardens in thy eye appear? Ceſ. The face of Winter now frowns ev'ry where. Vit. Oh! Madam! you're the favorite of a God, And charm'd all nature, when you came abroad; The rugged Winter civilly withdrew, And the ſweet Spring look'd out to gaze on you. The Zephyrs plaid, and threw the clouds away, As dancers ſtrip, to be more light and gay. Ceſ. I wou'd enrich theſe Gardens, were they mine, With Rocks of Diamonds, and Seas of Wine. Here tydes of Wine ſhou'd daily ebb and flow; The Walks with golden duſt, and pearls, I'd ſtrow, And then I might ſuppoſe, on Stars I trod, As it becomes the conſort of a God. Cal. Thou ſhalt have all the Wealth that Nature yields; Theſe Gardens ſhall excel the Elizian Fields, Or the Heſperiaen Groves, ſo fam'd of Old, Where all the Trees bore fruit of ſolid Gold. And will that pleaſe thee? Oh! how ſits the Wind? This golden Grove brings Africk to my mind. With much impatience, I expect from thence An Obelisk of great magnificence. A Wonder both for ſtature and extent; I've for this Wonder, a Sea Wonder ſent, A Ship, which covers half the Sea, and more, And with its burden makes the billows roar. Vit. Sir, if the Ocean can the burden bear, 'Twill very ſoon be here, the Winds are fair. Cal. They ſay, that Pyramids are Regal Tombs Of mighty Kings, the laſt Retiring-Rooms. This ſpacious Univerſe, in War o'ercome, And laid in Ruins, ſhall be Caeſar's Tomb. Ceſ. Be Caeſar's Tomb? Let me not ſee the hour When he is entomb'd. Cal. We will name Tombs no more. Ceſ. Their powers to me, wou'd Deſtinies reſign, Eternal ſhou'd be Caeſar's Life, and mine, And all our days be ſmiling, and ſerene; We wou'd not know what cares, or troubles mean. Cal. Well may we love, I'm ſure our ſouls agree; Then may thy life be all ſerenity. And that of pleaſure thou may'ſt have thy fill, Command all Caeſar's power, all humane skill. Now, Love, prepare for Caeſar's golden Couch; Th' Images ſmile, with hopes of thy approach. They blaze with gold, we burn with hot deſire; There we ſhall all appear, nay be o' fire. Ceſ. Is the Bed new? For I, when I've my choice, Let nothng, but my Caeſar, touch me twice. Cal. It is all new, and ſo I think art thou; Thou never didſt appear ſo fair as now. Ceſ. Perhaps from joy, ſome colour I derive; But I have drooping beauties I'd revive. By this days trouble, I've contracted ſoil; Therefore, with Caeſar's leave, I'd bath awhile. From water then, I'll like a Venus riſe, And in my Caeſar's arms diſſolve in joys. Cal. Water a Bath for beauty ſo Divine? Ceſ. Water ennobl'd with the richeſt Wine, Perfumes, and pearls diſſolv'd. Cal. Go bath an hour; In pleaſure then diſſolve an Emperor. [Ex. Ceſ. and Ladies. Enter Paſtor. How now, old ſplendid Knight? thy days decline, But thou reſolv'ſt to make thy evening ſhine; But all the luſtre of thy Youth, and Age, Has been from Buildings, Train, and Equipage. How dar'ſt thou have th' ill manners, to abſtain From War, and Honour, in a Warlike reign? Paſ. In Youth I ſerv'd in War; Sir, now I'm old, The relick of a Man. Cal. But wrapp'd in gold. Well, what's your bus'neſs here? Paſ. With Caeſar's leave, From Caeſar's glory pleaſure to receive. Alſo to let my gracious Emp'ror know News, which perhaps ſome pleaſure may beſtow; Th' Aegyptian Wonder is arriv'd at laſt. Cal. Th' Obelisk? Where? Paſ. 'Tis of a ſize ſo vaſt, That, Sir, it will let nothing elſe appear; And, I may ſay, 'tis almoſt ev'rywhere. Sir, I believe, no Province is ſo large As the great Ship that brought this monſtrous charge. I was of late forc'd, on a ſmall deſign, To ſend to Aegypt a young Son o' mine; And in this Ship he found a paſſage home. Sir, a great Nation might have there found room. Cal. I'll ſee this Veſſel, and its monſtrous freight; I'll go by Sea, prepare my Gallies ſtraight. Where is your Son? Paſ. Without, Sir. Cal. Call him in. Enter Lepidus. Thou venture to the Sea? no, rather ſure, Thou haſt been poliſhing thy ſelf awhile, In a ſweet Bath of Milk, and Wine, and Oil. The Sea wou'd frighten one ſo ſoft as thou, Unleſs 'twas ſmoother than a Ladies brow. Where blew the Wind? Lep. In th' Eaſt, where now it blows. Caſ. You mean thro' Flutes and Trumpets, I ſuppoſe. The Ocean was in peace with ev'ry cloud; The Winds were only in Wind-Muſick loud. Th'aſt found at Sea a ſerene milky way, And to thoſe Waters went'ſt to dance and play, As Ladies do to Wells, when weather's gay. Oh! thou hadſt rather Rome, and all the World, Shou'd be confounded, than thy hair uncurl'd. Thou never wou'dſt expoſe to rugged air, Rings which allure, and Nets which catch the Fair. Lep. Nature, Sir, gave me what I value more, A great devotion for my Emperor. Sir, in that Ornament lies all my Pride, When Caeſar pleaſes, any thing beſide: I can with infinite delight reſign, In duty, only I deſire to ſhine. Cal. Well ſaid? Vit. A nobler Youth I have not ſeen, I love you, Sir, our tempers are akin. Cal. The Egyptians highly flam'd with zeal of late, For Caeſar's Glory, does their heat abate. Lep. Caeſar— Vit. When Caeſar's mention'd by your own, Or any Tongue, pray, Sir, bow humbly down. Lep. Egypt with Gods is plentifully ſtor'd, But, Divine Caeſar there is moſt ador'd. (Vit. and Lep. bow when Caeſar is nam'd. Vit. Yes, Caeſar makes a glorious Figure there, Therefore that Kingdom greatly I revere; And often tow'rds that point of Heaven I bend, Which Canopys that happy holy Land. (Vit. bows toward Egypt. Lep. The Alexandrian Jews each moment feel Dreadfull effects, Sir, of Egyptian zeal. Cal. And they ſhall quickly feel my fury too; And ſo ſhall ev'ry diſobedient Jew. Their old dead Prieſts and Prophets they prefer Above a living, new, young Jupiter; Caeſar I mean. Lep. The Egyptian Jews have ſent, A noble Agent Learned and Eloquent. His Life is Pious, and his Conduct Sage, He's call'd, by ſome, the Plato of the Age. Cal. Let's ſee this ſecond Plato— [Ex. Lep. and Enter Philo. Welcome, Sir? You are a Learned Philoſopher, I'm told. Caeſar may well admit of your adreſs, You have to nature intimate acceſs, And are her Miniſter; you ſhall be heard, For that's a Character deſerves regard. She is my Benefactreſs, I muſt own; I had from nature my Imperial Crown. Nay, more a Godhead on me ſhe beſtows, Or ſo it is my pleaſure to ſuppoſe. And who will plunder me of what I love; Thunder may eaſier be ſnatch'd from Jove. Your Nation ſpoils my Images, will you, Aſſault my high Imaginations too? Phi. To ſuch high arrogance who dares aſcend? Sir, with the Egyptians we only contend: We'll not thruſt Caeſar down, among the low Rabble of Gods, to which th' Egyptians bow. A Leek in Egypt is a Heavenly Lord; Cart loads of Gods their Gardens can afford. We'll not mix Caeſar with their Herds and Flocks, Their Rams and Goats; nor yoke him with an Ox: Nor joyn him with the Monſters of their Nile; Nor link him with an Ape, a thing moſt vile. All theſe are Gods in the Egyptian Creeds; And for refuſing this our Nation bleeds. No Age, no Sex, the Alexandrian ſpare: Our Men they murder, and they force the Fair. Cal. Jove is a Caeſar in the World above; Caeſar is in this lower World a Jove. He Thunders oft indeed, and ſo do I, But he keeps always ſafe within his Sky; And, in my Reign, quits not his lofty ground: He Thunders now; I do not love that ſound— Why ſhou'd I ſhake when I hear Thunder roar, For I've no fear. Vit. Antipathy, no more. Lyons are in diſorder, when they hear A poor Cock crow; yet Lyons have no fear. Cal. Theſe fooliſh qualities in Men and Beaſts, Are tricks of Nature, and her trifling jeaſts. Now will this writing Knave his Prince defame, And with unmanly Cowardize blaſt my name. Hew him to pieces Lictors;—hold—not yet. How ready blockheads are to ruin Wit? Swine ſhall not root in ſuch a noble Bed, Whence fame may ſpring to me when I'm dead. Vit. What Divine Clemency does Caeſar ſhow? What ſay you now? Is he a God or no? Cal. My Galleys I will haſten to the Port, And ſee the wonders that muſt grace the Court. Vit. A throng of noble Youths the honour craves To Row you, Sir, and be your Galley-ſlaves. Cal. Well, let 'em Row; they'll Row againſt the ſtream, Men muſt tug hard if they get my eſteem. Ex. Cal. Vit. Attendants, Guards. Enter Lepidus and Salome Sal. My Father lives, my devout prayers are heard, Good Angels left their Heaven, to be his Guard. The Tydings of your danger reach'd my ear; Ah! what have I endeavour'd from tot'ring fear? Lep. So much it wou'd be cruelty to tell; A thouſand times ſhe in deep ſwoonings fell. When ſenſe return'd, grief fail'd not to revive: Ah! how ſhe mourn'd becauſe ſhe was alive? And blam'd us all, who forc'd her to retain A miſerable Life, when you were ſlain? That to deprive her, we unkindly ſtrove, Of happy Martyrdome for filial love? Phi. Why wert thou ſo amaz'd at this Report? Is danger any News in Caeſar's Court? Thou knewſt we to a fiery furnance came, This raging Prince is always in a flame. Sleep cools not him, diſturb'd by dreams he burns, And when he wakes, his waking dream returns, That he's a God: We pity this Diſeaſe, And worſhip not for Gods, his Images, If th' Images be Gods, we ſhou'd adore The Men that made 'em, they are ſomething more. 'Tis baſe born Godhead, which from Man deſcends, If Caeſar be a God, as he pretends, His Godhead in Creation was diſplay'd, He needs no Image but the World he made. Well, in the ſhamefull Alexandrian Rape, Daughter, you had the happineſs to ſcape; But, in this Court th'art in a dan'grous place, And therefore, always vail thy thoughts and face. Lep. Ay, Madam, here y'are in the ſeat of ſin; Caeſar will force the Fair he cannot win. Sal. Oh! you have fill'd my heart with chilling fears, To fly from him, I'd ruſh o're Swords and Spears: The Croaks of Ravens, and the Shreikes of Owls, All boding ſounds threatning departing Souls, And to the ſick approaching death proclaim; Are not ſo dreadfull as this Tyrants name. (Ex.
ACT IV. SCENE, a Room in the Court. Enter Lepidus and Salome. Lep. OH! Madam! I was in a dreadfull fright; Had you appear'd in our young Emperors fight. Sal. Sir, I have no temptations to allure So great a Prince, and therefore I'm ſecure. Lep. Oh! you've all qualities, can be deſir'd; You are by all, but by your ſelf admir'd. Y'are to a wonder fair, and yet not vain, Your innocence and fame have not a ſtain. Y'are humble tho' of high extraction ſprung; Devout, and Grave, and Prudent, tho' young. Like all your Fathers works, your worth is high, With great delight perus'd by every eye. Oh! if kind Heaven wou'd grant my hearts requeſt, This work ſhou'd be immortal like the reſt. Sal. This Charity I thankfully receive; But affairs call me hence, I take my leave. Lep. Affairs? no, Madam, you are too ſevere; Why ſhou'd not you Angels ſometimes appear: But, Angel like, you with the Heavens converſe, And with poor mortals will have no commerce. Sal. Sir, you oft talk to me of Love, Lep. I do; And ſhew Religion in admiring you. If o're my heart your Vertue had no ſway, Ah! what Celeſtial Law ſhould I obey? What Revelation ſhou'd not I diſdain; What miracle to me not ſhew'd in vain. Sal. Till joyn'd in faith, our hearts, Sir, muſt not joyn; Our Laws, which many wonders prove Divine, From Forreign Love ſtrictly encloſe our race: Shou'd I climb o're thoſe Walls to your embrace, And boldly lay all piety aſide, You wou'd not, Sir, accept me for your Bride, For to Religion ſhou'd I prove untrue, You cou'd not hope I wou'd keep faith with you. I ſin if to your Love I lend an ear, Therefore, in generous Charity forbear. Lep. Oh! 'tis the nature of a flame to rove, My eyes will in your preſence talk of Love. My heavy ſighs will ſilently complain, And own my ſecret languiſhings and pain. Sal. Oh! I'm afraid you own your love elſewhere, And it will reach your angry Emperors ear. Have you confeſt your Love to none. Lep. I have; I talk ſo much of Love, Men think I rave. I mention not your name; but fair and young. Lovely, and Love, dwell always on my Tongue; And theſe ſerve me for every reply. Some ask where Caeſar is—in Love—ſay I. Some ask what new rais'd Forces we prepare, Againſt the ſpring;—I anſwer, young and fair. Some, if the Towns, that Caeſar took, were ſtrong; I anſwer, wond'rous beautiful and young. Sal. Oh! Sir! avoid me, leaſt I ſhou'd be won, And then you ſhare our fate, and be undone. To Caeſar's Image we'll not humbly fall; And now his fury flames around us all. A horror ſits on ev'ry Jewiſh brow; Our Nation has a frightful aſpect now. Sir, for my peace, give your Addreſſes o'r, And for your ſafety never ſee me more. Lep. Ah! cruel doom! and not to be obey'd; Who can live always in a mournful ſhade? Well, tho' your Laws, and you, all hope deny, Sweet Maid! I muſt love on. Sal. Ah! ſo muſt I. [Aſide. Sir, pray retire, I ſee my Father near; He'll be diſpleas'd if he ſhou'd find you here. Lep. Since you command, I muſt, and will withdraw; But I hope yet, in your dividing Law, To find a paſſage, where our hearts may meet, And have delights, as innocent, as ſweet. [Ex. Lep. Sal. at ſeveral doors. Enter Caligula, Attendants, Guards. Cal. I went for a dead miracle of Art, And a fair living Wonder charm'd my heart; A Divine beauty! ſhe exceeds all praiſe: I ſent Vitellius for her, and he ſtays. How dares he let my pleaſure be delay'd? He knows I'm not of patient metal made. 'Tis dangerous my appetites to pall, Or make 'em await a minute, when they call. Enter Conſuls, and Senators. What wou'd you have? 1 Conſ. Caeſar was pleas'd to ſend His Orders to us, that we ſhou'd attend. Cal. My Lords, you are all deep in Caeſar's debt, For Caeſars Wars; and crimes you oft commit. 1 Conſ. Into Court-myſteries we dare not pry; Caeſar's Commands are writ (we know not why) In Characters, which can be read by none; So into faults we fall, to us unknown. Cal. You ſay my characters cannot be read; Our Roman Prieſts, and Lawyers, earn their Bread By turning Laws, and Jupiter's Commands, To myſtick ſtuff, no mortal underſtands. Thus they deceive you, yet ne'r repine; You are their fools, why ſhou'd you not b 2 Conſ. Sir, when your Will you legibly expreſs, We to our duty readily addreſs Cal. No; for my Wars, when I exact my due, No ſtreams are louder murmurers than you. The World is all my own, 'tis all Crown-Land: I reign from Heav'n to Hell;—perhaps beyond. You live on the Eſtates I'm pleas'd to lend, Yet you'd have me upon your Alms depend. You are the Conſuls. 1 Con. Yes, great Sir, we are. Cal. Thoſe Offices you ſhall no longer bear I'll chuſe a Conſul, that has Youth and Force, Spirit and Fire; I'll chuſe my fav'rite Horſe. Y'are rul d by Brutes, who are not half ſo wiſe; How often Fools to Magiſtracy riſe? Elephants carry Caſtles in the Eaſt; Here Tow'rs and Towns often ſupport a Beaſt. You'll honour, only for his noble breed, A Blockhead, and why not a noble Steed? Our Roman Prieſts rule ev'ry Soul and Purſe, Yet they've no more Religion than my Horſe. Begone! begone! the charming beauty's won; Through all my veins enlivening pleaſures run. The news! the news! [Ex. Conſ. Sen. and enter Lucius, Vitellius. Vit. Sir, ere ſhe was aware, We ſnatch'd her up, and forc'd her to a Chair; And then ſhe ſhriek'd, and tore her beautious hair. Cal. I would loſe nothing of her, 'tis confeſt, Except her hair; thou haſt brought all the reſt. Vit. Yes, Sir. Cal. Go, bring her. [Enter Julia, forc'd by a Guard. Jul. I'm in Caeſar's pow'r; I came to Rome in a dark fatal hour. Oh! Caeſar! [She kneels. Cal. Goddeſs!—ſo no doubt you are; No mortal can be ſo divinely fair. Nay, nay, at my requeſt, ſweet Madam, riſe; Let all your Graces entertain my eyes: To Caeſar grant the infinite delight To touch, and ſee a hand ſo ſoft and white. Were all thy other beauties cheats of Art, This hand might palm a paſſion on my heart. Where have you liv'd? Jul. In Woods remote from hence; And, till this hour, in peaceful innocence. Cal. In Woods? there were no ſhades, whilſt you ſhone there: Why wou'd you not at Caeſar's Court appear, But hide, in a remote and lonely Grove, The only perfect Workmanſhip of Jove? I ſaw you walk by Tibur, all alone, In a fair Garden, bord'ring on my own; And in amazing rapture, and tranſport, I ſent this Lord to bring you to my Court. Jul. Sir, I am married to a valiant Lord, Who has ſerv'd Caeſar nobly with his Sword. Cal. He loves thee not; elſe he wou'd love to ſhew The happineſs in thee his Stars beſtow: For all Mankind are oſtentatious, vain; And pleaſures, when expos'd, moſt entertain. Men think their fortunes droop, when they're conceal'd, And pleaſure ſweeteſt, when 'tis air'd reveal'd. And of my Empire too, he has poſſeſt A part, I value above all the reſt; By Venus, I wou'd rather quit my Throne. Madam, I may and will aſſume my own. Jul. A thouſand painful deaths I'll rather chuſe. Cal. I die a painful death if you refuſe. Madam, my Time, nay more, my Life you waſte; Yes, Madam, now 'tis Treaſon to be chaſte. Jul. Sir, for the World I'd not my Honour loſe. Cal. Oh! I'm the Fountain whence all Honour flows. Yes, Madam; ſure you are not to be told, Men honour nothing more than Pow'r, and Gold. I can make Vertue ſcorn'd, and Vice eſteem'd; I can make Hell ador'd, and Heav'n blaſphem'd. Succeſs, Dominion, and the longeſt Sword, Make any Creeds believ'd, or Gods ador'd. Jul. Oh! ſave me! ſave me! all you Pow'rs above! Cal. I will hear nothing, from that voice, but love. Jul. Aſſiſt me, gracious Gods! without delay! Cal. Does ſhe love noiſe? then let my muſick play. [Cal. forces her out; ſhe ſhrieks, and the Muſick plays. Vit. follows. Enter at another door Ceſonia, looking in a glaſs. Ceſ. This Bath has cleans'd my blood, and made it thin; Has reviv'd all the Lillies in my skin, The Roſes in my cheeks, with ſuch a red The bluſhing morning leaves her watry Bed. This way my Caeſar went, as I'm inform'd— The door is ſhut the Caſtle muſt be ſtorm'd. (She knocks, Vit. anſwers within. Vit. Who's there?— Ceſ. Your Empreſs. Enter Vitellius. I look wondrous well. [She looks in the Glaſs. Now all my Sex, nay, I my ſelf excell: Freſh Roſes in my Cheeks now ſweetly blow. Your Emp'ror went this way not long ago. Vit. Over that Beauty? Yes, I muſt confeſs, That has been long his only Paradiſe. There his heart liv'd, there his Lips often ſtray'd; But Caeſar now is by new Beauty ſway'd. (Aſide. Madam, your pleaſure with your humble ſlave? Ceſ. I've buſineſs— Vit. With your Glaſs;—I ſee you have. Well, we have now three Empreſſes in Town; This beauteous Empreſs here, whoſe falling Crown, Unknown to her, ſits looſely on her head; One Empreſs in a Glaſs, and one i' Bed. (Aſide. Ceſ. I think I never look ſo clear and fair; I'll ſteal on Caeſar, like a ſhape of air. Vit. Moſt Sacred Madam, Caeſar now retires For great affairs, and privacy deſires. Ceſ. From me? Vit. From all the World, for half an hour. Ceſ. Dare you oppoſe me? then I've loſt my power; And ſome new beauty over Caeſar Reigns: My blood will ſtart out of my ſwelling Veins. Vit. Caeſar indeed, too often to his coſt, Injures himſelf and you; himſelf the moſt: And your misfortune you have rightly gueſt. Ceſ. My heart can never have a moments reſt. Why do I loyter whilſt my int'reſts bleed? (She offers to go, (and he interpoſes. Ha! ſtop me: You are a bold bawd indeed Wert thou a flaming Mountain I'd not ſtay, But thro' thy burning bowels force my way. Enter Caligula. Cal. How now? from whence is this preſumptious noiſe Who dares break in on Caeſar's Privacies? Ceſ. Love is the offender, Sir; Love urg'd me on To ſtay your heart, e're 'tis for ever gone. For I am told, my Intereſts decline; You have found Beauty that charms more than mine. Cal. Come, Madam, y'are Luxurious, Haughty, Vain; Caeſar you love, becauſe you love to Reign. Ceſ. Caeſar I love more than his Glorious Crown; And I love Caeſar let him ſmile or frown. Aetna did never with more fury burn: I love to madneſs, and as madly mourn. Cal. Oh! you are mad no doubt, for who is not? Cowards are mad, they fear they know not what. What death is to the living ne're was ſhewn: Life is not more to the unborn unknown. The brave are mad, for fame they'll madly die, Which after death they hope not to enjoy. The Learn'd are mad, and madly tear their brains For knowledge; which no mortal e're attains. And what confuſion from Learn'd madneſs ſprings, Among Religions, Laws, States, Realms, and Kings? And yet in Schools, where thoughtfull madneſs Reigns The mad are free, and Books are bound in Chains: The vitious are all mad, by Laws confin'd: The Vertuous are more mad, themſelves they bind: And Jove was mad, when he made mad Mankind. There's one great flaw runs through the Earth and Sky; And ev'ry God and Man is mad, but I. Ceſ. Wou'd I were mad; I ſhou'd be more at eaſe, And have no ſenſe of all my Miſeries. New Beauties vanquiſh Caeſar ev'ry hour; Then how does raging grief my heart devour? My heart to Caeſar fixt, more torment feels, Than if he dragg'd me at his Chariot wheels. Cal. I love, and hunt variety, 'tis true: And does not Mother nature love it too? Good Gods! how does ſhe vary humane mold? She often makes new faces o' the Old. If any have in Life continued long, We always ſay they're Old we do 'em wrong; And if we call'd 'em Young, 'tis but their due, Their Shapes and Features are entirely new. How oft does nature change us e're we die? She loves new faces, then why ſhou'd not I? In chace of change my Nature loves to run, Yet to amazement I have doted on. Two years and more, I have thy will obey'd; Others enjoy'd ſeem in a night decay'd. They've ſprung to Caeſar's Bed, young, lovely, gay; And I have thought 'em old by break o' day, Have thought 'em dead with age: and I've decreed To burn 'em or embowel 'em with ſpeed. But to thy arms I've been two years confin'd; Th'art an Enchantreſs and canſt fix the wind, Back to its ſpring canſt make a torrent run, And ſtop the fiery Chariot o' the Sun. The Beauty only cou'd not have the Power To fix my heart: never ſee Caeſar more. Ceſ. Oh! theſe eternal Tempeſts who can bear? I'll rather ſink into profound deſpair. I'm hourly broken on a golden ſhore, A barren beach cou'd not afflict me more. I never in your preſence will appear; I ll Labour to forget you ever were. No Image of you ſhall my griefs renew: And ſo a long farewell to Love and you. Cal. Come back? Ceſ. Only to love, and mourn in vain, And be a follower, id my Rivals train? Cal. I'll have thee wrack'd, to make thee own the art, Which thus eternally enſlaves my heart. When any one but thee I've oft embrac'd, Corrupted Water has a ſweeter taſt. But thee I never can abandon long: Thy tempting Beauty, and Inchanting Tongue, Soon make the wandring Gods of Love return; And now once more with violence I burn. Ceſ. Oh! Caeſar, Caeſar! tempt my heart no more: For can I moderately Love, Adore, A Prince ſo Great, ſo Gracefull, ſo Divine? Ah! what do I enjoy whilſt Caeſar's mine? And when I looſe his heart, does he believe That I can calmly, moderately grieve? Cal. I know in Love my Godhead I exert, Therefore I'm lov'd by thy voluptuous heart. Caſt from thy mind all jealouſie and fear; I ll ne're forſake thee, by my Life I ſwear. Ceſ. Your heart no beauty ſcarce an hour endures I could dwell years upon a kiſs o' yours. Cal. Thou art a Golden Harp Divinely tun'd, What Statue wou'd not dance to ſuch a ſound? Raſe from thy memory my ſinfull hours, And all my little vagabond amours; They're meteors, and like other vagrants poor, Soon waſt their fires, and then appear no more. Others no more the riots can ſupply Of ſuch an Epicure in Love as I; Than a Plebeian fortune can ſupport My Guards, my Fleets, my Armies, and my Court. But my excurſions from thy arms improve Thy joys and mine, and make new ſprings in Love. So an Arabian gains by his retreats, The livelier ſenſe of his o'recoming ſweets. Ceſ. Coſt what it will, to Caeſar's arms I'll fly, I cannot pay too dear for ſo much joy. (She runs to Caeſar's embraces. Cal. Oh! Welcome to my arms my Charming Love? Ceſ. Welcome to mine: my young Illuſtrious Jove. Oh! my exceſs of Love gluts Caeſar's heart. If I were wiſe I'd temp'rate Love with art; But I am too immoderately kind Cal. Have I a temp'rate and a mod'rate mind? Is Caeſar to thy heart no better known? Give me extravagant delights or none. Mod'rate delight is but a waking dream: And of all pleaſures, Love is the ſupreme. And therefore Love immoderate Love deſerves: Exceſs o'recomes, but moderation ſtarves. Fear not my wandrings; for go where I will, I'm in my Empreſſes dominion ſtill. Ceſ. And tho' he wonders, I love Caeſar ſtill. Caeſar! methinks the name of Caeſar charms. Caeſar I love, tho' in a Rivals arms. More in my own embraces, I confeſs: And I will Love to infinite exceſs. Cal. Love to exceſs, th'art infinitely fair, In my delights I can no limits bear. But (for what reaſon never cou'd he known) Our joys have bounds, and our deſires have none. (Ex. Cal. Ceſ. Attendants, Guards. Enter Valerius Aſiaticus. Val. A. Oh! I have met with News, which makes me flame; And every eye upbraids me with my ſhame. My ſervices have met a kind reward: The hour I quitted my Domeſtick Guard, The Emperors Bawds raviſh'd my Wife away; And he's devouring now the Luſcious prey. She comes— Enter Julia. Oh! Julia! what has Caeſar done? Jul. Oh! my Lord! leave me to my griefs alone. Do not look on me, I'm a hatefull ſight, And long to hide in everlaſting night. As in my Garden I walk'd all alone, Securely, as I thought, unſeen, unknown, The Emperor, from an Apartment nigh, Often beheld me with a greedy eye, And forc'd me thence.—Let me not tell the reſt; Oh! thou moſt wrong'd of Men, and yet the beſt. Val. A. New Giants have bound Jove, ſo he lies ſtill, And lets this filthy Tyrant take his fill Of Whoredom, Blood, Rapes, Inceſt, what he will. Had Caeſar raviſh'd from me all my Lands, Bottomleſs treaſures, numberleſs commands, But to thy beauty never had approach'd, Had left me thee unblemiſh'd, and untouch'd; My heart is ſo devoted to thy love, I wou'd not have chang'd happineſs with Jove. Jul. Oh! my dear Lord, your wrongs with patience bear, Truſt not your dang'rous paſſions to the air. Val. A. Revenge, revenge, my love I muſt purſue, The Tyrant with more eaſe I can ſubdue. And fear him not; for as the lofty Sky, And bright full Moon, attract a mad man's eye, This gawdy Tyrant's meditations gaze On the bright ſplendors that around him blaze, And ſo to others no regard he pays. Like a fierce Panther I will hunt my prey, And with his blood waſh all my ſpots away. Come, let me lead thee home. Jul. Can you endure To touch, or to approach one ſo impure? I hate to touch my ſelf; to draw my breath It makes me ſick; and I am ſick to death. For Love I prize, for Love I loſe my life; I liv'd your chaſte, and die your martyr'd Wife. Val. A. Oh! Caeſar! Caeſar! thou ſhalt feel my Sword; Shall is too ſluggiſh, and too faint a word. The Tyrant's fallen, on his Neck I tread; He's dying by my Sword; nay more, he's dead. But can one death for all his crimes atone? He breaks thy Laws: Oh! Nature! break thy own Let him have many Lives, be often born, That he may often be in pieces torn.
ACT V.
Enter Julia and her Women. Jul. RUN to my Lord, deſire his ſwift return, For I've drunk Poyſon, and I burn, I burn. Enter Valerius Aſiaticus, and Annius Minutianus, Oh! my dear Lord! I've done my honour right, And Death will ſoon tranſport me out o' ſight; For I am all in a conſuming flame, I burn with poyſon, and I burn with ſhame. Val. A. With poyſon? Jul. Poyſon; but I've never been With a worſe poyſon tainted, ſhameful ſin. Oh! I abhor the thought. Val. A. I've no diſtruſt. Jul. I've been inviolably true, and juſt. No one can have a Soul more clear than I From foul deſires;—for Caeſar's ſin I die. Val. A. I do believe thou art as chaſte as fair; Wound not thy wound d heart, thy griefs I ſhare. How much I value thee thou haſt not known, Becauſe I love thee more than can be ſhown. I, out of love, conceal'd thee in a ſhade. Jul. And your Commands I boldly diſobey'd, And came to Rome.— [She kneels. The fatal fault forgive; And, at the leaſt, oh! love me, whilſt I live. Val. A. Ay, and for ever; riſe, ſweet Julia, riſe, Riſe to my arms, thou life of all my joys, But a departing life my Julia dies. Jul. Oh! wou'd to Heav'n I had dy'd, before This ſhameful violation.—Oh! no more. My bluſhing cheeks glow with a fiery red; In thy dear boſome, let me hide my head. An M. How bleſt was he, before this heavy wrong, In a ſoft beauty, conſtant, chaſte, and young. In this ſweet Lady all perfections joyn; I never had a pleaſing hour with mine. Jul. When I am dead, ſtrew me all o'er, I pray, With flow'rs, to ſhew that I was chaſte as they. Val. A. As ſweet, and lovely too. Jul. They fade, and die, When they are rudely touch'd; and ſo do I. Oh! my blood riſes, my cheeks glow again; Why ſhou'd I bluſh for wicked Caeſar's ſin? Val. A. The leaſt undecent thought thou canſt not bear; Thy Vertue, to its ſelf, is too ſevere. Jul. Oh! ſee! the Souls of Veſtal Virgins come, To welcome me, and grace my martyrdom; They're all in Robes, whiter than mountain Snow. Val. A. Alas! ſhe raves. Jul. Do you not ſee 'em? Val. A. No. Jul. Then I perceive, the modeſt beauties ſhun The ſight of men; therefore begone,—begone. I ſhall in triumph to Elizium go; 'Tis a great honour, Ladies, you beſtow. Oh! they retire.—Ladies, return again, Admit me into your ſacred ſpotleſs Train. I'm chaſte as you, tho' not ſo fair in fame; For wicked Tongues, I know, will wrong my Name, Throw on my mem'ry undeſerv'd diſgrace; But your ſweet Groves will hide my bluſhing face. Oh! they are going, ſtay ſweet Virgins, ſtay; They're gone! they're gone! y'ave frightned 'em away. And I'm with ſtrangers left I know not where. Val. A. Th'art in his arms, to whom th'art wondrous dear. Jul. Ha! you are Caeſar. Val. A. No, ſweet Julia, no; I'm Caeſar's mortal, and eternal foe. Jul. Well, y'are a man, and ev'ry man I dread. —Who's this? my Lord? I knew not what I ſaid. In my few moments, that my thoughts ſhou'd rove From him, whom I ſo dearly, dearly love. Val. A. Lean, lean, my Julia, on my panting breaſt, My love and ſorrow cannot be expreſs'd. Jul. I'm going where no wicked Tyrant reigns; Preſerve my mem'ry Val. A. All thy dear Remains. Jul. Heav'n knows how I've been faithful to your Bed? I've lov'd you to my death, ſhall love when dead. Elizium can to me no bliſs afford, Till in thoſe happy ſhades I meet my Lord: Till then—farewel.— [She dies. Val. A. She's going—ſhe is gone. Ah! ſee, what beaſtial tyranny has done. Her beauty's gone; Death has deflowr'd her too, What I ſo lov'd I've not the heart to view. Cover her face; forbear a while-thoſe pale Departing beauties, Death too long will veil. I will have one cold kiſs before we part. (Kiſſes her. Revenge! Revenge! Oh, how it ſwells my heart? An. M. Be well prepar'd; Rome loves a vitious Prince, All the corrupt will riſe in his defence. Val. A. Well, if Rome riſes, I will raiſe it higher, For I'll exalt it to the Clouds in fire. But 'tis diſpirited; and dares not riſe; And Caeſar's ſcorn'd by all the brave and wiſe. An. M. Proud Tyrants who no bounds of law endure Are common foes; and never are ſecure; Their lofty Thrones they ſeldom long enjoy: Streif Lyons all men labour to deſtroy. Val. A. Oh, tremble Caeſar; prodigies appear, Which ſay, if there be Gods, thy fall is near. Prodigious Vertue in this Beauty ſhone; Her Cauſe and Juſtice live, tho' ſhe is gone. Thy own prodigious Crimes th'aſt cauſe to dread; Vengeance they'll hurle at thy devoted head. Eclipſes are thought frightfull omens too: This ſad Eclipſe thou may'ſt with terror view, It threats thy life—View it, ye Gods forbid; His frantick Luſt wou'd violate the dead. Methinks I talk too much in words abound, And my Revenge evaporates in ſound. An. M. Will you not ſet the gallant Caſſius free? Val. A. And ſteal by ſtabs, revenge, and liberty? My honour in full ſplendor I'll maintain, I'll by fair War end this inhuman Reign. This night, for mine, and univerſal good, The Sun ſhall ſet in blood, Imperial blood. (Ex.
SCENE, the Court. Enter Caligula, Vitellius, Guards. Cal. Beauty I love, but I hate toilſome Rapes; I love good Wine, but wou'd not tread the Grapes. The Chaſt are cold, therefore I hate the Chaſt; Fruites in cold climes have an inſipid taſt. I'm told by Oracles my death is nigh. Vit. Your death! Cal. my death; all I ſuſpect ſhall die. Valerius firſt ſhall periſh by my Sword; He can in battle face his Sovereign Lord. Vit. Nay, he's provok'd, and therefore dangerous grown. Cal. Provok'd by pride to mount th' Imperial Throne. And by Revenge provok'd to take my life, Becauſe I forc'd his fair, young vertuous Wife. Caſſius Cheraea's honeſt, tho' not bold: Valerius has confin'd him, I am told. In the mad Revels of his Rage, no doubt, Valerius let ſome dangerous ſecrets out, Which now he'd lock up in the dark from me: But I'll unravel all the Villainy. Vit. The Jews inform'd, that if they dare deny To worſhip Caeſars Image, they ſhall die; Bey Audience. Cal. Villains—They wou'd not preſume To ſlight my Will, had they not found in Rome Rebellious ſpirits: and when they appear, A Prince's fall and death are oft too near. Nay, a young Roman, I reprov'd of late, For being Wanton, Soft, Effeminate, Uſeleſs to Caeſar and to all mankind Except the Fair—has ſawcily deſign'd To wed a Jeweſs, now in Caeſar's Court: With Caeſar's anger none ſhall dare to ſport. I'll reform Rome, and all ſhall feel my Sword, Whoſe names are written in this black Record, (He pulls out a Poeket Book. Then I'll to Egypt, where I'm moſt ador'd. Bring in the Jews. Enter Philo and the Jews. Cal. What wou'd you have?— (To Phi. Thoſe carvings there look well— (To Vit. Phi. Permiſſion, Sir— Cal. Permiſſion to Rebel?— Phi. We Sacrifice for Caeſar every day. Cal. You Sacrifice for Caeſar oft, you ſay, But not to Caeſar. How dare you preſume To give my honour to I don't know whom? Phi. Leave to enjoy thoſe rights we humbly crave, Your glorious Anceſtor Auguſtus gave. Cal. What are thoſe rights? Phi. They're by long cuſtom known; And all deriv'd by the Imperial Throne. The Alexandrians ſlight our lofty claim; And hourly put our dwellings in a flame, Plunder our Treaſures, ſeize on all our Lands, And often in our blood embrue their hands. The lives of thouſands— Cal. Ha! the lives you ſay? Oh! now my Water-works begin to play. (He runs to the ſide of the Stage. Phi. Audience from Caeſar Water works can gain; A bleeding Nation humbly begs in vain. Cal. Theſe ſtreams are ſweeter murmurers than you: Now theſe apartments let's a moment view. (He goes to the other ſide of the Stage.) See there Gods ride on Clouds. Vit. Can painting give A life to ſhadows, one would think they live. Cal. You've rights deriv'd from the Imperial Throne? (To Rhi. There I'll have Windows of tranſparent Stone. (To Vit. Which ſhall the fury of the Sun allay The fiery River of a flaming day, Will through thoſe channels coolly, mildly paſs: Glaſs windows in hot climes are burning-Glaſs Have you a Patent?—come let it be ſeen— Phi. Under the Imperial Seal— Cal. Of Heaven you mean; For you are the Almighty' darling choice: Your pray'rs have in Heaven a caſting voice. And all your Rams which at your Altars dye, Prove batt'ring Rams, it ſeems and force the Sky. Go; you are cheated fools or ſawcy cheats: And above Caeſar raiſe your vain conceits: Throw down the Statues of the World's great Lord, Whilſt your Imaginations are ador'd, I will put all your Nation to the Sword. Vit. A Glorious Prince! Phi. We patiently reſign Our ſelves to Heavens Will. Cal. And ſhall to mine. You have a Daughter now in Rome, 'tis ſaid, Whom a young Roman dares preſume to Wed. Enter Paſtor. Oh! Paſtor, you've a Son, who dares deſign To wed a fair young enemy of mine. Paſt. I never heard this dreadfull News before; If Thunder-ſtricken cou'd I tremble more? Phi. Sir, our unhappy Children I perceive, Have wickedly without their Parents leave Or knowledge, ſtollen into a Marriage vow, I never knew they Leagu'd or Lov'd 'till now. Cal. On this offence, I'll lay a dreadfull fine; Which ſhall be paid, by thy Sons blood or mine. (To Paſt. Secure the old Knight; and then with ſpeed and care, Search for his Son: Conceal him they that dare. Philoſopher, you'd have your Tribes ſubmit, Not to my Will, but to your aſpiring Wit. Say my pretences to Celeſtial power, Are lofty frolicks of my mind, no more; Will you preſume to give my pleaſure Law? I'll be ador'd to keep the World in awe; Ay, and by you; if you dare diſobey, Your death ſhall be among my ſports to day. (Ex. Cal. Vit. Guard. Phi. We muſt adore him; if he's diſobey'd, [Paſ. lead out a Priſoner. We dye, for Caeſar's ſport were Nations made By power Celeſtial, infinitely good, For Caeſar's Luſt to glory, power, and blood? Enter Lepidus. Oh! Sir! you've wrong'd me; cruelly beguil'd Your Friend of his belov'd and only Child. Lep. Indeed I have not, Sir; I will confeſs, I fought to gain her, but with no ſucceſs. Sir, my addreſſes ſhe wou'd not receive, Or lend an ear to 'em, without your leave; And that I ſought not, for I fear'd 'twas vain, I know your zeal: But, Sir, did ſhe complain? Phi. I heard the News in Court, and not till now: It has reach'd Caeſar's ears, I know not how. The Emperor no contempt with eaſe endures; 'Till you appear, your Father he ſecures. And if from Caeſars fierce Revenge you fly, Your aged Father for your fault will die. (Exit Philo and the Jews, at one door? At another, Enter Salome.) Lep. Oh! Lovely Maid! for death I muſt prepare, My ſweet commerce with one ſo wondrous fair, Has fallen, it ſeems, under the envious Eye Of ſome Court-whiſperer, and I muſt die. Sal. This dire event, I always did forebode, And loſt the pleaſure which thy Love beſtow'd. I've lov'd thee tho' my Love I have not ſhown, More than 'twas fit a modeſt Maid ſhou'd own. Lep. Oh! what delightfull harmony I hear? But I muſt meet the death, which is too near For angry Caeſar now in Court ſecures My tender Father, and he threatens yours. If I abſcond they both will die, I fear; Therefore, to ſave 'em both I muſt appear. Sal. Ah! dreadfull News! then th'art enſnar'd indeed, Almighty Father of the World with ſpeed To this brave pious Youth ſend ſuccour down; For the Religion to his Father ſhewn. Let not the World ſo great a treaſure looſe; But let ſome other Angel interpoſe. Lep. Some other Angel? then thou think'ſt me one, What happineſs I looſe? I muſt be gone, Methinks I hear my ſuffering Father groan. Farewell, ſweet Love— Sal. Farewell? ah! killing word. He parts from me to ruſh on Caeſar's Sword From loving me my genrous Lover dies. Lep. And yet that Love above my life I prize. Ah! Caeſar comes? truſt me to Heavens defence, But not thy Beauty to this Luſtfull Prince. Sal. Oh! I had rather be in pieces torn By raging Lyons, or in Aetna burn. (Ex. Sal. Enter, at another door, Caligula, Vitellius, Guard. Lep. Sir, to redeem my Father, I appear Unforc'd, unfound, and come a Voluntier. Cal. You love a Jeweſs. Lep. Sir, I do indeed. I love her Beauty, Vertue, not her Creed. We may accept good Forreign Coin, tho' there The Images of Caeſar's Foes appear. Cal. Were ſhe worth Love, ſhe wou'd thy Love deſpiſe; And rather chooſe a Lover, brave and wiſe: Whoſe Cheeks are drain'd of all their blood by wounds, But his good Sword with noble blood abounds; His locks are gone, old time has cut that Comb, But Fame and Wiſdom ſprout up in the room; Then a young fool, whoſe brains flow all in hair, But has no heart, and a wit bald and bare. Lep. This from the moſt Effeminate Prince alive: With thy own Luſts and Vices, Caeſar ſtrive. (aſide. Cal. Too many worthleſs Youths now cumber Room, Who derive all their honours from the Womb. They bask in luſtre, which their birth beſtows, And in the lap of Fortune dully doſe. To leave their ſloath, and take a noble courſe, The Trumpets ſeem with frequent ſummons hoarſe. The grumbling Drums urge 'em to War in vain; The Drones have Warlick glory in diſdain. And from their wealth and eaſe no more can riſe, Then from their amber tombs poor lifeleſs flies. Begone; th'art an offence to Caeſar's eye: Go to thy Father and prepare to die. Lep. My ſelf to death with pleaſure I reſign, Hoping I ſhall redeem his life with mine. (Ex. Lep. guarded. Cal. Go, let Cher ea ſpeedily be brought. Vit. He's come. Enter Caſſius Cheraea, with a Guard. Cal. A Priſoner, Caſſius? What's thy fault? Caſ. Ch. My Lord, Valerius, who has been my Friend, Sir, 'twas my great misfortune to offend. Cal. Confeſs the truth, ſave thy own life and mine: From his proud heart ſome dangerous deſign Broke in thy hearing, e're he was aware, And then he lock'd it up from taking air. Caſ. Ch. He's cloſe and dark, I believe loyal too; I love a Virgin in the dark, 'tis true, Not Treaſon, Sir, with the moſt lovely face: But I've not ſeen him ſince his laſt diſgrace. Cal. His nature's viſible enough, he's proud; He Courts the Senate, purchaſes the crowd, By their aſſiſtance to aſcend the Throne: Power is the Idol of his heart, 'tis known. This night the memory of Auguſtus claims: With all Magnificence, and publick games, I fail not to adorn it, ev'ry year: And I ſhall have a great aſſembly here. This Evening my Tragedians repreſent Some of thoſe Fables, Prieſts of Hell invent. Then Rome ſhall be a Hell and flow in blood, A noble Fable for an interlude. Caſſius, I'll try the metal of thy Sword, Thou ſhalt have the honour to obey thy Lord. Caſ. Caeſar makes bloody hangmen of his Guard— We to a noble Office are prefer'd. When his mind changes (which will be ſoon, For it has more new faces than the Moon, And influences more this lower World) We, by new hangmen, ſhall to Hell be hurl'd. My reſolutions I have let you know, And you embrac'd 'em; now let's give the blow, For which ſick trembling Rome in ſecret longs: Let's give her freedom and Revenge her wrongs. The Tyrant by our aid, Robs, Burns, Devours: Let's put an end to all her guilt and ours. (Aſide to the Guards. Cal. Rome has inborn averſions to a Prince: And I am warn'd to ſtand on my defence By Oracles and Dreams—Sleep ſhuns my eyes; I'm angry that I need ſuch poor ſupplies. Time by immortal natures may be ſpar'd; But from ſhort life to take a third ſeems hard. Vit. Thanks to the Gods in yonder beauteous Bower. You ſlept of late. Cal. How long? Vit. Almoſt an hour, Ten minutes ſhort: for, Sir, I proudly own, I number'd 'em, and then I penn'd 'em down. Whatever Caeſar does (a Prince ador'd By half mankind) is worthy of Record. Cal. Then did I dream from Heaven (where I was Crown'd) Jove ſpurn'd me to the Earth; nay, under the ground. The Earth then yawn'd, and with a frightfull roar Clos'd o're my head, and I was ſeen no more. Dark Treaſon lurks in Rome, I know not where. I'm in diſorder—Rogues will call it fear, And ſo will impudent Hiſtorians too; How do they blacken Kings, they never knew? Of their own vain imaginations proud Into their ſtories ſawcily they crowd. Their own Reflections, Dreams, and falſe Conceits; So lie with Kings, in the ſame fine wrought ſheets, All Rome but I, now with delight abounds: Let Muſick try, with ſweet inchanting ſounds To calm my ſtormy thoughts, to lull my care. Muſick charm'd Hell and all the furies there [After a ſhort Entertainment of Muſick and Dancing; Shrieks and tumultuous noiſes are heard from behind the Scenes. Vit. goes out. My Guards! my Guards. Re-enter Vit. How now? does Rome Rebell? Vit. One of your Statues ſhook and groan'd, then fell; Th' aſſembly frightned then, in tumults roſe; And with blood rain'd from Heav'n the pavement flows. Cal. For Caeſar's danger nature is in pain: There is more truth in Marble than in Men. The fall of Rome, or Caeſar's death is near: I'll have the blood of all I've cauſe to fear. Go and prepare for this deſign to night, And we'll to morrow forrage in delight. (Ex. Vit. Caſ. Now our great work no longer let's retard. Strike when I ſtrike. (Aſide to the Guard. Sir, I am on the Guard: (He approaches the Emperor. Be pleas'd to give the Word. Cal. Stay! let me ſee!— Priapus;—that is a fit word for thee. [Caſ. Ch. wounds the Emperor, and the Guard ſecond him. The Emperor falls. Cal. Ha! I am murder'd! murder'd! by my Guard! Caſ. Ch. No, no; a murderer meets his juſt reward. (The Emperor ſtrives to get up. Cal. I'm yet alive Caſ. Ch. How many lives haſt thou? Thou haſt a thouſand if th'art living now. (They all wound him again. Had we not kill'd thee, thouſands muſt have dy'd By us; as victims to thy bloody pride, They cou'd no way, but by thy fall eſcape: 'Twas on my innocence a cruel rape. Death I expect, and I'll prepare to die: Not by the Councels of Philoſophy, I will converſe with beauty more Divine, And be inſpir'd by Love, and Songs, and Wine. My ſelf for death with pleaſure I'll compoſe, And give my life an entertaining cloſe. (Claſhing of arms is heard. What ſhou'd this mean? No matter what, away; Leſt you be cut in pieces if you ſtay. (Ex. Caſ. and the Guard. Cal. I am yet living, and the Villains fly; I ſhall revenge my death before I die. (He endeavours to riſe. Enter Valerius Aſiaticus, Annius Minutianus, and their party, driving Soldiers before 'em. Cal riſes and ſtaggers. Val. Min. and their party return. Val. A. Where is this Raviſher of beauteous Wives, Of Virgins, Realms, Religions, Laws, and Lives? Cal. Valerius? then my death was thy deſign; I'm butcher d here, by Cowardly Rogues o' thine. Val. A. Cowards I hate, and Cowardly treaſon ſcorn, I'll keep unſtain'd the Lawrels I have worn. A brave Revenge I fairly ſought and won: I've beat thy Guards, and thou art left alone. I've given thy dreadfull power a dangerous blow: Thou and thy lofty Throne both ſtruggle now. Cal. I'm going!—going!—whither—who can tell. Val. A. Whither all Tyrants go; to burning Hell. Cal. I'd rather ſink into the Hell I dread, Than at a Raſcalls foot—thus—lay my head. (Cal. falls and dies. Val. A. So, he is fallen, he who lately trod On all mankind, and call'd himſelf a God, That he was mortal to his coſt he found, And in his blood now wallows on the ground. An. M. He wiſh'd all Rome had but one neck, 'tis ſaid, That at one blow he might all Rome behead. Val. A. Ay, but he found too many hands in Town, And hands, it ſeems, as bloody as his own. A debauch'd vitious Prince does often find 'Tis very dangerous to corrupt mankind. 'Tis odds, he by his own corruption dies, And crimes by crimes juſtly the Gods chaſtize. For Caſſius ſpeedily ſearch all the Town, For he has wrong'd my honour and his own. He wrought, no doubt, the Villany I fear'd; But by his death my honour ſhall be clear'd. Enter Ceſonia, and her Woman. Ceſ. My Caeſar murder'd! ſtand away—forbear; Now I've loſt Caeſar, what have I to fear. Oh! here's my Caeſar, I ſo Lov'd, Ador'd; Lord of the World, I'm ſure Geſonia's Lord, Mangled by Villains, here in blood he lies, In his own blood—Caeſar, who gave my eyes, Ay, and my heart, ſuch infinite delight, Is now a mournfull, and a dreadfull Sight. The World to me is all a deſart now; For a loſt Caeſar, Gods, revenge beſtow. Revenge all Princes, by this horrid deed All thrones are ſhaken, and all Princes bleed. Revenge two Lovers, here by Villains torn; One murder'd, and I only live to mourn Revenge my Princely Babe, from Caeſar ſprung, It cannot ſin, why ſhou'd it ſuffer wrong? Now the Tree's fallen, the little branch will ſoon Decay and wither—Oh! I faint!—I ſwoun— Val. A. Help her! Ceſ. Stand off; I've pleaſure in my grief Except revenge, I deſire no relief. Take up the precious relicks of your Prince: Oh! take 'em up, whilſt I've remains o' ſence. Oh! gently! gently! if you be humane, His wounds pain me, and he feels all my pain For his Ceſonia he more dearly Loves, Than all the beauties in th' Elizian Groves. (They take up the Emperor. Come, my dead Lord, with thy Ceſonia dwell: In Love at leaſt, I all my Sex excell. Now in the dead, and death are all my joys: I'll weep till tears and death have quench'd my eyes. (Ex. Ceſonia and her Attendants, with the body of the Emperor. Val. A. Unhappy Princeſs! the worſt fault ſhe had. Was an exceſs of Love, for one ſo bad Now bring the ſentenc'd Pris'ners in, with ſpeed, Whoſe unjuſt deaths, the Tyrant had decreed. Enter Paſtor, Lepidus, Philo, and the Jews. Your fortunes and freedoms I reſtore. The tyrants dead, he'll plague the World no more. Paſ. The dreadfull Emp'ror dead! good news indeed. Oh! to his Vices may no Prince ſucceed. Enter Salome, ſhe runs to Lepidus. Sal. Oh! my dear Love! Lep. My Love! art thou ſo near? Oh! how durſt thou expoſe thy beauty here? Sal. Ask me no Queſtions, I am mad with Joy, And have not ſence to make thee a reply. I in diſtraction came to die with thee, Die in thy arms, and find thee ſafe and free. Val. A. Go, marry; of each other take your fill; And now you Jews, go, believe what you will. Paſ. Yes, marry, Son; th'aſt nobly earn'd my leave. Lep. Oh! with what joy this favour I receive. Phi. Moſt Gallant Youth, not many minutes ſince, When the keen weapon of a dreadfull Prince Was on your Father drawn, you ſtept between; Such an Example we have rarely ſeen. Now ſhall we turn the edge of Law on you? More favour to your piety is due. My Daughter, Sir, I to your arms reſign. Lep. Oh! my dear Love, th'art mine. Sal. And thou art mine. Val. A. The Imperial Throne I can with eaſe aſcend, I know no power which can with mine contend: But ſhou'd I reign, the World which thinks me proud Will charge me with the Guilt of Caeſar's blood, And ſay, the horrid Villany was done By my command; that I might mount the throne. I'd rather be an honeſt ſlave, I ſwear, Than buy the Empire of the world ſo dear. I never yet in crimes employ'd my Sword: When I've the Senate to their right reſtor'd, And reveng'd Caeſar, as our Laws require; I'll to ſome quiet privacy retire, And there diſarm'd, and all my powers laid down, I will be great in nothing but renown, And in my ſolitude till death I ll mourn Over my Martyr'd Julia's ſacred Urn. (Exeunt
FINIS.
PROLOGUE: Spoken by Mr. Powell, who Acted the Emperor. SO mad a Tyrants part I act to day, That you will think him mad who wrote the Play. In Comick humours he takes moſt delight, And yet he rants in Tragedy to night; And ſtrives to give diverſion for an hour, With a young Prince, mad with exceſs of power. He had that mighty power you all deſire; Power you all love, and labour to acquire, Some have deſir'd a French Invaſion here For under them, they hop'd to domineer: But, Oh! ſhou'd France this nobler Realm ſubdue, Ev'ry Dragoon wou'd be a Caeſar too. Poor Rogues, who for three-half-pence ſell their Lives, Wou'd lord it o're your Lands, your Selves, your Wives. What wretched ſlav'ry is, we ſhew to day, 'Tis well you only ſee it in a Play: Thanks to the Brave, who well deſerve their pay. Some gentle pity we have hopes to move By the misfortunes of ſweet vertuous Love. The niceſt Lady need not bluſh today, At leaſt, at what the Women do or ſay. Chaſt all the beauties are they repreſent, Their loves are Conjugal or Innocent. We are young actors; yet we hope to pleaſe By Acting Love, for love with youth agrees. You love the Actors, who have pleas'd you long; But th' Images of Love ſhou'd all be young.
EPILOGUE, Spoken by a Girl. SInging in Plays is grown ſo much in vogue, I had ſome thoughts to ſing the Epilogue. Since ſinging ſuch delight to you affords, To pleaſe you, we'll all turn Canary Birds. When I'm a Woman, which will be e'ne long, No Man, I ſwear, ſhall have me for a Song, If you'll tempt me, do it with glitt'ring Gold, And thoſe enchanting words, To have and hold. I ll on thoſe Terms yield to ſome worthy Man, Have me he may, and hold me if he can. Well, let me be an Actreſs I'm content, Provided, Gallants, you'll give your conſent; I mean your gen'rous Encouragement. But to the famous Actors you reſort, Who fled from us to an old Tennis-Court. Thither let all the old Gallants repair, And toſs and racket the fine Beauties there, Applaud, admire 'em, and do what they will: If you young Sparks, will pleaſe ſometimes to fill And grace our Houſe, with an alluring throng: Methinks you ſhou'd, for moſt of us are young. Tender young plants, moſt of our Women are; Some, it is ſaid, are ripe enough to bear. Here's a Spring-Garden which deſerves your care.
Perſons Repreſented.

Caligula, Emperor of Rome. Valerius Aſiaticus, General of the Imperial Army in Germany. Annius Minutianus, A noble Roman, Married to one of the Emperor's Siſters. Vitellius, Proconſul of Aſia. Caſſius Cheraea, A Tribune in the Emperor's Guard. Paſtor, An old Roman Knight, Lepidus, Paſtor's Son, Philo, A Learned Jew, Embaſſador from the Egyptian Jews, to the Emperor. WOMEN. Ceſonia, The Emperour's beloved Wife. Julia, A young beauty, Wife to Valerius. Salome, Philo's Daughter. Conſuls, Senators, Guards, Attendants.

The SCENE, the Imperial Palace of Rome, the Time, the laſt ho •• of the Emperor's Life.

Books lately Printed for Richard Wollington, at the Lute in St. Paul's Church-Yard.

A Mathematical Compendium, or the Deſcription and Uſe of a new ſliding Rule, by which many Uſefull and Neceſſary Queſtions in Arithmetick, Military Orders, Intereſts, Trigonometry, Planometry, Sterenometry, Geography, Aſtronomy, Navigation, Fortification, Gunnery, Dyalling, may be ſpeedily reſolved without the help of Pen or Compaſſes. By William Hunt, Philomath.

A Diſcourſe upon the Nature and Faculties of Man, in ſeveral Eſſays: With ſome conſiderations on the Occurrences of Human Life. By Tim. Nourſe Gent.

Familliar Letters, written by John late Earl of Rocheſter, to the Honourable Henry Savile Eſq and other Perſons of Quality, with Love-Letters, written by the late Ingenious Mr. Ottway, and ſeveral Letters written by Sir George Ethridge, the late Duke of Buckingham, &c. in two Volumes, each Vol. may be had ſingly.

Ovid Traveſtie: or a Burleſque on Ovid's Epiſtles, by Captain Alaxander Radcliff.

The Novels, &c. of the late Ingenious Mrs. Behn, Collected into one Vol. viz. Oroonoko, or the Royal Slave. Fair Jilt, or Prince Tarquin. Agnes de Caſtro, or the force of Generous Love. The Lovers Watch, or the Art of Love. The Ladies Looking-Glaſs. The Lucky Miſtake: And the Hiſtory of the Nun, or fair Vow-breaker.

Reflections upon Ancient and Modern Learning. By William Wotton, B. D. Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Earl of Nottingham. The Second Edition, with Large Additions. With a Diſſertation upon the Epiſtles of Phalaris, Themiſlocles, Socrates, Euripides, &c. and Aeſop's Fables, by Dr. Bentley.

The Family Phyſician; being a choice Collection of Approv'd and Experienc'd Remedies, to cure all Diſeaſes incident to Human Bodies, uſefull in Families, and ſerviceable to Country People, by George Hartman Chymiſt, Servant to Sir Kelemn Digby, till he died.

A General Treatiſe of the Diſeaſes of In ants and Children, Collected from the moſt Eminent Practical Authors, by John Pechey, of the College of Phyſicians.

Contemplations Moral and Divine, in three parts, Written by the late Lord Chief Juſtice Hales, to which i added the Life of the Author, by Gilbert Lord Biſhop of Sarum. The third part may be had ſingly.

Cocker's Decimal Arithmetick, the Second Edition, very much enlarged, by John Hawkins Schoolmaſter at St. George's Church in Southwark.

Vade Mecum, or the neceſſary Companion, containing Sir Sam. Moreland's Perpetual Almanack, ſhewing the days of the Month or any year, Paſt, Preſent, or to come; a Table of the Kings Reigns ſince the Conqueſt, compared with the years of Chriſt. A Table of the Reign, wherein any numbers of Farthings, Half-pence, F nce and S il ings are ready caſt up, of great uſe to all Traders. 6. The Intereſt and Rebate of Money, the Forbearance, Diſcount and purchaſe of Annuities. 7. The Rates o Poſt-Letters, Inland and Outland, 8. Account of the Penny-Poſt. 9. The Principal Roads in England, ſhewing the diſtance of each Town from London, alſo the Market Towns on each Road, with the days of the week the Markets are kept on; alſo the Hundred and County each Town ſtands in. 10. The names of the Counties, Cities and Burrough-Towns in England and Wales, with the number of Knights, Citizens and Burgeſſes choſen therein, to ſerve in Parliament. 11. The uſual Rates and Fares of Coachmen, Carmen and Watermen. The Sixth Edition, much Enlarged.