The works of Beaumont and Fletcher. With an introd. and explanatory notes by Henry Weber
h:x-m^- '.> "^p^i i V fc-*: ^" ^i*-~<^: "^^ \^ ^^ '^^m. THE WORKS OF BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. THE ni WORKS OF BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER, IN FOURTEEN VOLUMES: ^MTH AN INTRODUCTION AND EXPLANATORY NOTES, BY HENRY WEBER, Esq. VOLUME THE FIFTH, ' CONTAINING THE FALSE ONE. THE LITTLE FRENCH LAWYER. THE WOMAN'S PRIZE. THE PILGRIM. EDINBURGH : Printed by James Ballantyne and Company, roR F. c. AND J. rivington; lo>'gman, hurst, rees, orue, and CO.; WHITE, COCHRANE, AND CO.; W. MILLER; J. MURRAY ; R. H. EVANS J B. scholey; J. mawman; and gale and curtis; London : AND for JOHN BALLANTYNE AND CO.J AND DOIG AND STIRLING J EDINBURGH. 1812. THE FALSE ONE. VOL. V. THE FALSE ONE. This Tragedy first appeared in the folio collection of l547' We have no data whatever to determine the period of its first per- formance with any degree of certainty, nor to decide whether Beaumont had any share in the composition. Gardiner ascribes it to Fletcher in his commendatory verses ; but the prologue" and epilogue, which are far better evidence, speak decidedly of more than one author, and as the former direCtly alludes to Shakspeare's Antony and Cleopatra, the production of which Mr Malone and Mr Chalmers agree in placing in the year 16O8, we might sup- pose that our tragedy was performed at no great distance of time from that period. There is, however, a circumstance which may stagger our belief in Beaumont's coalition with Fletcher. Amongst the actors' names enumerated in the second folio, that of Burbage is not to be found ; and as that first-rate tragedian is known to have acted in most of these plays which appeared before his death, and as the latter is known to have happened in l6l8-9> we might, with some probability, conclude that the drama was produced between that year and l622, when Sir H. Herbert's office-books, so often quoted in this work, commence. It has occurred to the editor, as a doubt, whether the coadjutor of Fletcher, alluded to in the prologue and epilogue, was not another than Beaumont, and whether this may not be one of the plays in which, according to tlie testimony of Sir A. Cockayne, Fletcher was assisted by Massinger. In several scenes it is presumed that poet's stately and nervous versification may be discovered. The plot too is con- ducted with greater regularity than most of Fletcher's can boast of. This supposition is however hazarded as a mere conjecture, which must be discarded, if the circumstance mentioned above, of the probability of the play being produced within a short time of Shakspeare's Antony and Cleopatra, is supposed to have mor« weight. ( 4 ) Whoever were the associate authors, this tragedy has such ster- ling merit, that its utter neglect for many years past must be de- ph)n'd as another instance of the little attention at present paid to these invaluable treasures of dramatic excellence. The particular beauties of it seem to have struck Seward, who, in this play, as in The Faithful Shepherdess, left his usual track of annotation to point out the chit.-; excellencies, and to compare them to those ex- hibited in its original, the immorlal poem of Lucan, and in its re- spectable rival, the Pompee of Corneillc. Notwithstanding Bishop "VVarburton's great, but perhaps weakly-founded, celebrity as a critic, his supposition that the authors of The False One meant to break a lance with Shakspeare, is fully refuted by the prologue, which he never can have read, for it completely denies any rivalship, and distinctly points out the dift'erence : and though the case were reversed, and a comparison instituted, where such com- parison is directly deprecated, the present tragedy, while it cannot bring forward passages of excellence equal to Shakspeare's, may yet claim a rank not far inferior to it in point of interest, while it undoubtedly excels in point of unity of action and regularity of plot. But our authors disclaimed comparison, and let us not in- sult them by obtruding what they deprecated. The characters are painted with great force and precision, aiid are excellently contrasted. The heroism of Cicsar, and the majestic debauchery of Cleopatra, are equally well pourtrayed ; and the different shades of villainy displayed in the characters of Phntinus, Achillas, and Septimius, admirably discriminated. The vacillations which are continually going on in the mind of the latter, the utter contempt with which he is treated by the Roman captains, by the three lame soldiers, and even by the wanton Eros, are introduced and con- ducted with consummate skill; while at the same time the treat- ment he receives throughout, and his final fate, are an admirable instance of poetical justice. The character of this infamous villain is well contrasted with that of the honest, blunt, and valiant warrior Sceva. IMr M. Mason makes the following observations on the impro- priety of the title : " I cannot comprehend from what character or incident in this play it has obtained the name of The False One. It cannot be from the character of Cleopatra ; for though haughty, ambitious, and unchaste, in consequence of that ambition she is free from falsi ucss, and even above disguise. To denominate the ( 5 ) play from Photiiius, Achillas, or Septimius, would be doing too much honour to these subordinate characters. Besides, the word false, though applied to deceitfulness, inconstancy, and want of truth, is never used to express such atrocious villainies as they were engaged in." — It may be presumed, though not with conclu- sive decision, that by The False One, Caesar is intended ; and that the scene where he is seduced from the affection of Cleopatra by the riches displayed by her brother, is peculiarly alluded to. Nor, although the objection of Mr M. Mason certainly has weight, is it altogether improbable that the paramount baseness of the wretched Septimius may have exalted him to the " bad eminence" in question. Our authors are far from being felicitous in the titles of their plays ; and it is perhaps considering too cu- riously, to suppose they would argue respecting the title of the False One, with the metaphysical precision inferred by Mr Mason. PROLOGUE. New titles warrant not a play for new, The subject being old ; and 'tis as true, Fresh and neat matter may with ease be framed Out of their stories, that have oft been named With glory on the stage : What borrows he From him that wrote old Priam's tragedy, That writes his love to Hecuba ? Sure, to tell Of Caesar's amorous heats, and how he fell r th' capitol, can never be the same To the judicious : Nor will such blame Those who penn'd this, for barrenness, when they find Young Cleopatra here, and her great mind Express'd to the height, with us a maid, and free, And how he rated her virginity : We treat not of what boldness she did die, Nor of her fatal love to Antony. What we present and ofl'er to your view, Upon their faiths, the stage yet never knew : Let reason then first to your wills give laws, And after judge of them, and of their cause. DRAMATIS PERSONiE. Julius Caesar. Ptolemy, k'mg of Egypt. Acboreus, an old, blmd counsello?% priest of Isis. Photinus, an eunuch., politician, and minion to Ptolemy. Achillas, captain of the guard to Ptolemy. Septimius, a revolted Roman villain. Labienus, a Roman soldier and nuncio. ApoUodorus, guardian to Cleopatra. D 1 h 1 1 rCa^ars captains. Sceva, a free speaker, also captain to Ccesar. Three lame Soldiers. Guard. Servants* Cleopatra, queen of Egypt. Arsinoe, Cleopatra^ s sister. Eros, Cleopatra s waiting -woman. Isis, ^ Nilus, >m a masque. Three Labourers, } The principal actors were John Lovvin, Joseph Taylor, John Underwood, Nicholas Toolie, Robert Benfield, John Rice, Richard Sharpe, George Birch.' -.VCEATi;,— Alexandria. Fol. 1679. THE FALSE ONE. ACT I. SCENE I. Alexandria. A Hall in the Royal Palace. Enter Achillas and Achoreus. Achor. I love the king,* nor do dispute his power, For that is not confined, nor to be censured ' The False 0«e.] Mr Seward, conceiving that a slur is cast bn this play (for so he expresses it) by Dr Warburton's first note on the rempest, is very copious in his defences of the False One, as " the rival of Antony and Cleopatra." He also gives very large quotations from Lucan; and endeavours to shew the superiority of the False One over the Pompey of Corneille; in all which par- ticulars we think him too prolix and too uninterestnig to be entirely copied : Nor do we believe that our authors meant (as the Rev. commentator on the Tempest imagines) to break a lance •with Shakspeare on this occasion. The prologue utterly disclaims any competition, either with his Julius Coesar, or his Antony and Cleopatra, truly asserting, that although the personages are the same with those that are celebrated in those plays, the situations of those personages that furnish the subject of the false One are totally different. — Ed. 1778. * Achil. I love the king, &c.] The gross error of making Achillas speak this has run through all the editions — Seward. We are very sorry Mr Seward should begin a play he seems to 10 THE FALSE ONE. [Aci I. By nie, that am his subject ; yet allow me The liberty of a man, that still would be A friend to justice, to demand the motives That did induce young Ptolemy, or Photinus, (To whose directions he gives up himself, And I hope wisely) to commit his sister, The princess Cleopatra If I said The queen, Achillas, 'twere, I hope, no treason, She being by her father's testament (Whose memory I bow to) left co-heir In all he stood possess'd of. Jcliil. 'Tis confess'd. My good Achoreus, that in these eastern kingdoms Women are not exempted from the sceptre, But claim a privilege equal to the male ; But how much such divisions have ta'en from The majest}^ of Egypt, and what factions Have sprung from those partitions, to the ruin Of the poor subject, doubtful which to follow, We have too many and too sad examples : Therefore the wise Photinus, to prevent The murders, and the massacres, that attend On disunited government, and to shew The king without a partner, in full splendour. Thought it convenient the fair Cleopatra (An attribute not frequent in this climate) Should be committed to safe custody, In which she is attended like her birth, Until her beauty, or her royal dower, Hath found her out a husband. Achor. How this may Stand with the rules of policy, I know not ; admire, with a fallacious assertion : The first folio (in which Ach, stands for Achoreus throughout, and for Achillas only in one short scene, when Achoreus is not present) gives this speech to Ach, i. e. Achoreus.— Y.<\. 1778. Scene L] THE FALSE ONE. il Most sure I am, it holds no correspondence With the rites of Egypt, or the laws of nature. But, grant that Cleopatra can sit down With this disgrace, though insupportable, Can you imagine that Rome's glorious senate, To whose charge, by the will of the dead king, This government was deliver'd, or great Pompey, That is appointed Cleopatra's guardian As well as Ptolemy's, will e'er approve Of this rash counsel, their consent not sought for, That should authorize it ? AcJiil. The civil war. In which the Roman empire is embark'd On a rough sea of danger, does exact Their whole care to preserve themselves, and gives them No vacant time to think of what we do. Which hardly can concern them. Achor. What's your opinion Of the success ? I have heard, in multitudes Of soldiers, and all glorious pomp of war, Pompey is much superior. AchiL I could give you A catalogue of all the several nations From whence he drew his powers ; but that were tedious. They have rich arms, are ten to one in number, Which makes them think the day already won ; And Pompey being master of the sea. Such plenty of all delicates are brought in. As if the place on which they are entrench'd, Were not a camp of soldiers, but Rome, In which Lucullus and Apicius join'd To make a public feast. They at Dirachium Fought with success ; but knew not to make use of Fortune's fair offer : So much, I have heard, 12 THE FALSE ONE. [Act 1. CiEsar himself confess'd.' Achor. Where are they now ? Achil. In Thessaly, near the Pharsahan plains; Where Caesar, with a handful of his men, Hems in the greater number. His whole troops Exceed not twenty thousand, but old soldiers, FleshM in the spoils of Germany and France, Inured to his command, and only know To fight and overcome : And though that famine Reigns in his camp, compelling them to taste Bread made of roots forbid the use of man, (Which they with scorn threw intoPompey's camp, As in derision of his delicates) Or corn not j^et half ripe, and that a banquet ; They still besiege himj being ambitious only To come to blou^s, and let their swords determine Who hath the better cause. Achor. May victory Attend on't, where it is. Achil. We ev'ry hour Expect to hear the issue.. Enter Septimius/ Sept. Save my good lords ! By Isis and Osiris, whom you worship, 3 So much I have heard Ccesar himself coniess."] This reading supposes Achillas to have been in Greece, and in Caesar's presence. The correction is very obvious. — Seward. ♦ Enter Septinius.] The vulgar editions have much oftener wrote it Sepfinius than Septimius, and have given him the former name in the persons of the drama. — The reader will undoubtedly observe the fine moral couched under this infamous wretch's character, viz. ** That even among the grossest superstition of the Heathens, the atheistical scoffer at religion was the most pernicious pest of all society," The character seems drawn with exquisite art, and our 9 Scene I.] THE FALSE ONE. 13 And the four hundred gods and goddesses Adored in Rome, I am your honours' servant. Achor. Truth needs, Septimius, no oaths, AchiL You are cruel ; If you deny him swearing, you take from him Three full parts of his language. Sept. Your honour's bitter. Confound me, where I love I cannot say it, But I must swear't : Yet such is my ill fortune, Nor vows nor protestations win belief; I think, (and 1 can find no other reason) Because I am a Roman. Achor. No, Septimius ; To be a Roman were an honour to you, Did not your manners and your life take from it, And cry aloud, that from Rome you bring nothing But Roman vices, which you would plant here, But no seed of her virtues. Sept. With your reverence, I am too old to learn. Achor. Any thing honest ; That I believe without an oath, Sept. I fear Your lordship has slept ill to-night, and that Invites this sad^ discourse; 'twill make you old poets have by it much excelled their master Lucan, and their competitor Corneille. In the former, there is only a sketch of a fierce inhuman villain ; and in the latter, Septimius is in the first scene introduced as a privy-counbellor, makes an harangue to per- suade the death of Pompey, commits the murder, and being blamed for it b) Caesar, is said to have killed himself with the same sword with which he slew Pompey : But he has absolutely no character at all, nor is it judicious to make him die the death of Brutus and Cassius ; thougii a Frenchman may perhaps look upon the punish- ment of Caesar in the same light with the vile assassination of Pompey — He-xard. * Sarf.] f. e. Serious, a common use of the word in ancient times. 14 THE FALSE ONE. [Act I. Before your time. Pox o' these virtuous morals/ And old religious principles, that fool us ! I have brought you a new song will make you laugh, Though you were at your prayers. Acho7'. What is the subject ? Be free, Septimius.' Sept. 'Tis a catalogue Of all the gamesters of the court and city, Which lord lies with that lady, and what gallant Sports with that merchant's wife ; and does relate Who sells her honour for a diamond, Who for a tissue robe; whose husband's jealous, And who so kind, that, to share with his wife. Will make the match himself: Harmless conceits, Though fools say they are dangerous. I sang it The last night, at my lord Photinus' table. ^ Acho7\ How ? as a fidler ?. Sept. No, sir, as a guest, A welcome guest too ; and it was approved of By a dozen of his friends, though they were touch'd in't : * o' these virtuous morals.'\ So the first folio exhibits these words, and no doubt the asseveration in the text was omitted in this case, as in innumerable others, at the instigation of the Master of the Revels, or the licenser of the press. All the modern editions read tamely and unmetrically with the second folio : Oh, these vir- tuous morals. ^ Acho. What is the subject ? Be free, Septimius.^^ Seward chooses to give this speech to Achillas, saying that it suits his character better than that of tlie honest Achoreus. But the latter is all along contemptuously up- braiding Septimius, and this speech suits him as well as the two which follow. * I suspect these songs were not unfrequent in the days of our authors. One exactly corresponding to the description in the text was made during the civil wars, each stanza ending with the com- mon burden, " Lampoon, lampoon." It is appended to a contem- porary MS. of the well-known Parliament of Ladies, /)e«w Walter Scott, Esq. Scene L] THE FALSE ONE. 15 For look you, 'tis a kind of merriment, When we have laid by fooHsh modesty, (As not a man of fashion will wear it) To talk what we have done, at least to hear it ; If merrily set down, it fires the blood. And heightens crest-fallen appetite. Adtor. New doctrine ! Achil. Was't of your own composing ? Sept. No, I bought it Of a skulking scribbler for two Ptolemies ; But the hints were mine own : The wretch was fearful ; But I have damn'd myself, should it be questional, That I will own it. Achor. And be punish'd for it ? Take heed, for you may so long exercise Your scurrilous wit against authority, Tlie kingdom's counsels, and make profane jests (Which to you, being an atheist, is nothing) Against religion, that your great maintainers. Unless they would be thought copartners with you, Will leave you to the law; and then, Septimius, Remember there are whips. Sept. For whores, I grant you,** When they are out of date ; 'till then, they are safe too, Or all the gallants of the court are eunuchs. And, for mine own defence, I'll only add this ; rU be admitted for a wanton tale. To some most private cabinets, when your priest- hood. Though laden with the mysteries of your goddess, ' Sep. For whores, I grant you. Till they are out oj date, till then are safe too.'] So the first folio. Till was changed to v;hen in the second, and are to they're, by Seward. 16 THE FALSE ONE. [Act I. Shall wait without unnoted : So I leave you To your pious thoughts. [EiVit. Achil. 'Tis a strange impudence This fellow does put on, Achor. The wonder great, He is accepted of.' Achil. Vices, for him, Make as free way as virtues do for others. 'Tis the time's fault; yet great ones still have graced, To make tiiem sport, or rub them o'er with flattery, Observers of all kinds.* Enter Photinus and Septimius. Achor. No more of him, He is not worth our thoughts ; a fugitive From Pompey's army, and now, in a danger When he should use his service.' ' He is accepted of.] Received or admitted. In the same way the word occurs in the English Bible, " Peradventure he will ac' cept of me." — Genesis. * Observers of all kinds.] Observers and observants are used in the old authors in the sense of parasites and sycophants. So in King Lear they are styled, " ducking observants^ That stretch their duties nicely." — Ed. 1778. ^ and now in a danger When he should use his service.] Mr Sympson thinks this dark ; it may therefore be proper to explain it, as it seems to me a very beautiful sentiment. " Septimius was not only a fugitive from Pompey, but had deserted him in the midst of danger, when he was engaged in a war with Cajsar." One need not add how in- famous such a desertion is held among soldiers.— iSeiuarc?. Mason admits this interpretation, but objects to the construc- tion ; though his acquaintance with the old dramatists should have taught him that their construction is often very involved ; whether from the idiom of the language, as then spoken, or from the hasty carelessness of their composition, we cannot delerraine. He pro- Scene!.] THE FALSE ONE. 17 Achil. See how be hangs On great Photinus' ear. — Sept. Hell, and the furies, And all the plagues of darkness, light upon me, You are my goci on earth ! and let me have Your favour here, fall what can fall hereafter ! Pho. Thou art believed ; dost thou want money? Sept. No, sir. Pho. Or hast thou any suit ? These ever follow Thy vehement protestations. Sept. You much wrong me ; How can I want, when your beams shine upon me, Unless employment to express my zeal To do your greatness service. Do but think A deed, so dark the sun would blush to look on, For which mankind would curse me, and arm all The powers above, and those below, against me ; Command rn^e, I will on. Pho. When I have use, I'll put you to the test. Sept. May it be speedy, And something worth my danger. You are cold, ^ And know not your own powers ; this brow was fashion'd To wear a kingly wreath, and your grave judgment Given to dispose of monarchies, not to govern A child's affairs ; the people's eye's upon you, The soldier courts you ; will you wear a garment Of sordid loyalty, when 'tis out of fashion ? Pho. When Pompey was thy general, Septimius, Thou saidst as much to him. Sept. All my love to him, To Caesar, Rome, and the whole world, is lost In th' ocean of your bounties : I have no friend, poses to omit the conjunctive and ; but it is not easy to conceive what can be gained by such omibsion. VOL. V. B IS THE FALSE ONE. [Act I, Project, design, or country, but your favour, Which I'll preserve at any rate. Pho. No more ; When I call on you, fall not off: Perhaps, Sooner than you expect, I may employ you ; So, leave me for a while. Sept. Ever your creature ! [Exit, Pho. Good day, Achoreus. — My best friend, Achillas, Harh fame deliver'd yet no certain rumour Of tile great Roman action ? Achil. That we are To inquire and learn of you, sir, whose grave care For Egv pt's happiness, and great Ptolemy's good, Hath eyes and ears in all parts. Pho. Til not boast What my mtelligence costs me ; but ere long You shall know more. — The king, with him a Roman. Enter Ptolemy, Labienus, wounded, and Guard. Achor. The scarlet livery of unfortunate war D^'d deeply on his face.* * The scarlet livery of unfortunate -war Dy'd deeply on hisjace.] It the reader supposes the hint taken from the Bleeding Captain at liie beginiiing of Macbeth, whocomes to relate the late of the battle between Macbeth and Macdoiiel, he w\\\ I believe, agree that our authors have here not only emulated, but much excelled li cir master. But this cannot be said of their imitatu n of the toUowing lines of Julius Cas'^ar, where the common fact of birds of prey following armies is turned to a noble omen ; . " ravens, crows, and kites Fly o'er our heads ; and downward look on us A^ we were sickly prey ; their shadows seem A canopy most fatal, under which Our army lies ready to give the ghost." Though our authors' lines do not equal this, yet they strongly par- take of the same spirit.— Seaarrf. Scene I.] THE FALSE ONE. * 19 Acliil 'Tis Labieniis, Ccesar's lieutenant in the wars of Gaul, And fortunate in all his unciertakini^js : But, since these civil jars, he turn'd to Pompey, And, though he followed the better cause, Not with the like success. Pho. Such as are wise Leave falling buildings, fly to those that rise ', But more of that hereafter. — Lab. In a word, sir. These gaping wounds, not taken as a slave. Speak Pompey 's loss. To tell you of the battle, How many thousand several bloody shapes Death wore that day in triumph ; how we bore The shock of Cassar's charge ; or with what fury His soldiers came on, as if they had been So many Caesars, and, hke him, ambitious To tread upon the liberty of Rome ; How fathers killed their sons, or sons their fathers ; Or how the Roman piles on either side Drew Roman blood, which spent, the prince of weapons (The sword) succeeded,^ which, in civil wars, ^ Or how the Roman piles on either side Drew Roman blood, which spent, the prince of weapons (The sword) succeeded.] Lucan, speaking in contempt of the Parthian archers, when Pompey had thoughts of taking shelter among them, says, Etisis habet vires, et gens qucecunque virorum est, Bella gerit gladiis. Lib. viii. The reader will observe what a noble flight of poetry our authors have built on this sentiment. And if he will please to look over Lucan's whole description of this battle, in the seventh book, I be- lieve he will agree that our authors have chose the noblest of his sentiments, and expressed them with the highest dignity ; that they have shewed great spirit in their additions, and as great judgment in their omissions ; that they sc4(iom fall below, but often rise above him. Whereas in the Pompey of Corncille (if prejudice does not « 20 THE FALSE ONE. [Act I. Appoints the tent on which wing'd victory Shall make a certain stand ; then, how the plains Flow'd o'er with blood, and what a cloud of vul- tures, And other birds of prey, hung o'er both armies, Attending when their ready servitors, The soldiers, from whom the angry gods Had took all sense of reason and of pity, Would serve in their own carcasses for a feast ; How Caesar with his javelin forced them on That made the least stop, when their angry hands Were lifted up against some known friend's faces Then coming to the body of the army. He shews the sacred senate, and forbids them To waste their force upon the common soldier, (Whom willingly, if e'er he did know pity, He vvould have spared) Ptol. The reason, Labienus ? Lab. Full well he knows, that in their blood he was To pass to empire, and that through their bowels He must invade the laws of Rome, and give A period to the liberty of the world. Then fell the Lepidi, and the bold Corvini, The famed Torquati, Scipio's, and Marcelli, Names, next to Pompey's, most renown'd on earth. The nobles, and the commons lay together. And Pontick, Punick, and Assyrian blood. Made up one crimson lake : Which Pompey seeing, And that his, and the fate of Rome had left him, Standing upon the rampire of his camp, make ir.e too much depreciate French poetry) almost the reverse of all these appears. Lucun charges Caisar with forbidding the dead bodies to be burned, (a thing indeed neither probable nor confirmed by history, nor at all consonant to Caesar's temper and good sense,) but on this supposition he has some of the noblest lines in his whole poem. — Seward, 12 Scene I.] THE FALSE ONE. 21 Tliough scorning all that could fall on himself, He pities them whose fortunes are emhark'd In his unlucky quarrel ; cries aloud too That thev should sound retreat, and save them- selves : That he desired not so much noble blood Should be lost in his service, or attend On his misfortunes : And then, taking horse With some few of his friends, he came to Lesbos, And with Cornelia, his wife, and sons, He's touch'd upon your shore The king of Parthia, Famous in his defeature of the Crassi, OfferVl him his protection, but Ponipey, Relying on his benefits, and your faith, Hath chosen Egypt for his sanctuary, Till he may recollect his scatter'd powers, And try a second day. Now, Ptolemy, Though he appear not like that glorious thing That three times rode in triumph, and gave laws To conquer'd nations, and made crowns his gift, (As this of yours, your noble father took From his victorious hand, and you still wear it At his devotion) to do you more honour In his declined estate, as the straightest pine In a full grove of his yet flourishing friends, He flies to you for succour, and expects Tiie entertainment of your father's friend, And guardian to yourself. Ptol. To say I grieve his fortune. As much as if the crown I wear (his gift) Were ravish'd from me, is a holy truth. Our gods can witness for me : Yet, being young, And not a free disposer of myself, Let not a few hours, borrow'd for advice. Beget suspicion of unthankfulness, Which next to hell I hate. Pray you retire, And take a little rest ; — and let his wounds THE FALSE ONE. [Act I. Be with that care attended, as thev were Carved on my flesh. — Good Labienus, think The Httle respite I desire shall be Wholly employed to find the readiest way To do great Pompey service. Lab. May the gods, As you intend, protect you ! \^E:vit with attendants. Ptol. Sit, sit all ; It is my pleasure. Youx advice, and freely. Achor, A short deliberation in this, May serve to give you counsel.* To be honest, Religious, and thankful, in themselves Are forcible motives, and can need no flourish Or gloss in the persuader; your kept faith. Though Pompey never rise to the height he's fallen from, Ctesar himself will love ; and my opinion Is, still committing it to graver censure, You pay the debt you owe him, with the hazard Of all you can call yours. Ptol. What's yours, Photinus ? Pko Achoreus, great Ptolemy, hath counsell'd Like a religious and honest man. Worthy the honour that he justly holds In beuig priest to Lsis. But, alas, What in a man sequester'd from the world, ^ May serve to give you counsel to be honest ; Re/igions and thankful, in themselves Are forcible motives.'] I have ventured to change the pointing here, and propose what seems a more natural one. — Seward. It is wonderful to observe the utter inattention of Seward, and frequently of the last editors, to the old copies. This passage is not j)ointcd so in either of them, the first having a comma, and not a semicolon, at the end of the first line, and the second point- ing with nearly the same precision as the acute commentator, thus-: May serve to give you counsel : to be honest, &c. Scene L] THE FALSE ONE. 23 Or in a private person, is preferr'd, No policy allows of in a king : To be or just, or thankful,' makes kings guilty; And faith, though praised, is punish'd, that sup- ports Such as good fate forsakes : Join with the gods, Observe the man they favour, leave the wretched; The stars are not more distant from the earth Than profit is from honesty ; all the power, Prerogative, and greatness of a prince Is lost, if he descend once but to steer His course, as what's right guides him : Let him leave The sceptre, that strives only to be good, Since kingdoms arc maintain'd by force and blood. Achor. Oh, wicked ! Ptol. Peace ! — Go on. Pho. Proud Ponipey shews how much he scorns your youth, In thinking that you cannot keep your own From such as are o'ercome. If you are tired With being a king, let not a stranger take What nearer pledges challenge : Resign rather The government of Egypt and of Nile To Cleopatra, that has title to them ; At least, defend them from the Roman gripe ; What was not Pompey's, while the wars endured. The conqueror will not challenge, l^y all the world Forsaken and despised, your gentle guardian. His hopes and fortunes desperate, makes choice of 7 To be or just, or thankful, &c.3 From hence to tbe end of Photinus's speech is almost a literal translation out of Lucan, and Corneilie translates nearly in the same manner. He has taken great part of Lucan's sentiments, though he has not ranged them in the same order, and his translation wants much of the .•spirit of his original, which our poets have extremely well preserved. Sevsard, 24 THE FALSE ONE. [Act I. What nation he shall fall with ; and pursued B) their pale ghosts slain in this civil war, He flies not Casar only, but the senate, Ot M hjch the greater part have cloy'd the hunger Of sharp Phar^alian fowl ; he flies the nations That he drew to his quarrel, M'hose estates Are sunk i;- his ; and, in no place received. Hath found out Egypt, by hnn yet not ruin'd. And Ptolemy, things con'sider'd'', justly may Complain of Pompey : Wherefore should he stain Our Egypt with the spots of civil war, Or make the peaceable, or quiet Nile, Doubted of Caesar ? Wherefore should he draw His loss and overthrow upon our heads, Or chuse this place to suffer in ? Already We have offended Cassar, in our wishes, And no way left us to redeem his favour But by the head of Pompey. Achor. Great Osiris, Defend thy Egypt from such cruelty, And barbarous ingratitude ! Pho. Holy trifles. And not to have place in designs of state. This sword, which fate commands me tounsheath, I would, not draw on Pompey, if not vanquished; I grant, it rather should have pass'd through Ceesar; But we must follow where his fortune leads us : All provident princes measure their intents Accoiding to' their power, and so dispose them. And think'st thou, Ptolemy, that thou canst prop His ruins, under whom sad Rome now suffers. Or tempt the conqueror's force when 'tis confirm'dr Shall we, that in the battle sat as neuters. Serve him that's overcome? No, no, he's lost: And though 'tis noble to a sinking friend To lend a helping hand, while there is hope He may recover, thy part not engaged, Scene IL] THE FALSE ONE. 25 Though one most clear, when all his hopes are dead, To drown him, set thy foot upon his head. Acho7\ ]\Iost execrahle counsel ! j4cliiL To he follow'd ; 'Tis for the kingdom s safety. Ptol. We give up Our absolute power to thee : Dispose of it As reason shall direct thee. Pho. Good Achillas, Seek out Septimius : Do you but sooth him ; He is already wrought. Leave the dispatch To me, of Lahienus : 'Tis determined Already how you shall proceed. Nor fate Shall alter it, since now the dye is cast, But that this hour to Pompey is his last ! SCENE n. An Apartment in the Palace of Cleopatra. £«/er Apollodorus, Ekos, Arsinoe, ^/z</ « Boy. Apol. Is the queen stirring, Eros ? Eros. Yes ; for in truth She touch'd no bed to nioht. Apol. I am sorry for it, And wish it were in me, with my hazard,* To give her ease. Ars. Sir, she accepts your will. And does acknowledge she hath found you noble, ' And wish it were in me, "with my hazard. '\ Seward and Colo- man read — with any Inizard ; but the original text, now restored, means, with the hazard ot" myself, and is better than the altera- tion. Q6 THE FALSE ONE. [Act I. So far, as if restraint of liberty Could give admission to a thought of mirth, She is your debtor for it. ApoL Did you tell her Of the sports I have prepared to entertain her ? She was used to take delight,^ with her fair hand To angle in the Nile, where the glad fish, As if they knew who 'twas sought to deceive 'em, Contended to be taken : Other times, To strike the stag, who, wounded by her arrows, Forgot his tears in death, and kneeling thanks her To his last gasp ; then prouder of his fate, ^ She used to tale delight with her fair hand To angle in the Nile, Sec] This description, particularly that of the stag enamoured with his death, is extremely poetical, and one may say of it what I have heard said by connoisseurs of the famous picture of Michael and Satan by Guido, it has vast beau- ties, and would be a capital piece, did it not put one in mind of one upon the same subject by Raphael. I freely own, that our authors are as far short of Shakspeare's description of Cleopatra sailing up the Cydnus.— .Seao/rf. In the last edition, ]\Ir Reed observes, that Shakspeare himself has been equalled, if not excelled, by Dryden in All for Love. Whether this observation is well-founded or not, no comparison can be instituted between the passages referred to in these great poets and the one in the text, which can never have been intended as a rival to Shakspeare's celebrated description. In fact, the lines are by no means in the best manner of our authors, being quite in the style of Marino, Donne, and Cowley. The very same conceit occurs in a black letter ballad of little value, entitled, " A most excellent Song of the Loves of young Palmus and fair Sheldra, and their unfortunate Love. To the tune of Shackley-hay."— Evans's Ballads, ISIO, vol. I. p. 52 : " And walking lazily to the strand, We'll angle in the brook, And fish with thy white lilly hand, Thou need'st no other hook ; To which the fish will soon be brought, And strive which shall the first be caught. A thousand pleasures will we try As we do row to Shackley-hay." Scene II.] THE FALSE ONE. n Than if, with garlands crown'd, he had been chosen To fall a sacrifice before the altar Of the virgin huntress. The king, nor great Pho- tinus, Forbid her any pleasure ; and the circuit In which she is confined, gladly affords Variety of pastimes, which I would Increase with my best service. Eros. Oh, but the thought That she that was born free, and to dispense Restraint or liberty to others, should be At the devotion of her brother, (whom She only knows her equal) makes this place In which she lives, though stored with all delights^ A loathsome dungeon to her. Apol. Yet, howe'er She shall interpret it, I'll not be wanting To do my best to serve her : I have prepared Choice musick near her cabinet, and composed Some few lines, set unto a solemn time,' In the praise of imprisonment. — Begin, boy. SOlSlG, by the Boy. Look out, brig Jit eyes, and bless the air : Even in shadozcs you are fair. Shut-up beauty is likejiret That breaks out clearer still and higher. Though your body be coiijined, And soft love a prisoner bound, Yet the beauty of your mind Neither check nor chain hath found. Look out nobly then, and dare Ev'n the fetters that you wear. ■ Set unto a sokmn time.] That is, in a slow solemn measure' of music. 2S THE FALSE ONE. [Act I. Enter Cleopatua. Cleo. But that we are assured this tastes of duty And love ill 30U, my guardian, and desire In you, my sister, and the rest, to please us, We should receive this as a saucy rudeness Otfer'd our private thoughts. But your intents Are to delight us : Alas, you wash an Ethiop ! Can Cleopatra, while she does remember Whose daughter she is, and whose sister (oh, 1 suffer in the name !) and that, injustice, There is no place in Egypt where 1 stand. But that the tributary earth is proud To kiss the foot of her that is her queen ; Can she, I say, that is all this, e'er relish Of comfort or delight, while base Photinus, Bondman Achillas, and all other monsters That reign o'er Ptolemy, make that a court Where they reside ; and this, where I, a prison ? But there's a Rome, a Senate, and a C^sar, Though the great Pompey lean to Ptolemy, May think of Cleopatra. Apol. Pompey, madam Cleo. What of him? Speak! If ill, ApoUodorus, It is my happiness ; and, for thy news, Receive a favour kings have kneel'd iii vain for, And kiss my hand. Apol. He's lost. Cleo. Speak it again ! Apol His army routed, he fled, and pursued By the all-conquering Ca3sar. Cleo. Whither bends he ? ApoL To Egypt. Cleo. Ha ! in person ? Apol. Tis received For an undoubted truth. ScENF IT] THE FALSE ONE. 29 Cleo. I live aajain ; And if assurance of my love and beauty Deceive me not, I now shall find a judge To do me right ! But how to free myself, And get access ? The guards are strong upon me ; This door I must pass through. — Apollodorus, Thou often hast profess'd, to do me service, Thy life was not thine own. Apol. I am not alter'd ; And let your excellency propound a means, In which I may but give the least assistance That may restore you to that you were born to, Though it call on the anger of the king, Or, what's more deadly, all his minion Photinus can do to me, I, unmoved, Offer my throat to serve you ; ever provided, It bear some probable show to be effected : To lose myself upon no ground were madness. Not loyal duty. Cleo. [To Arsinoe aiid Eiios.] Stand off! — To thee alone, [To Apollodorus. I will discover what I dare not trust My sister with. Ca3sar is amorous, And taken more with the title of a queen, Than feature or proportion ; he loved Eunoe, A Moor, deform'd too, I have heard, that brought No other object to inflame his blood. But that her husband was a king ; on both He did bestow rich presents : Shall I then, That, with a princely birth, bring beauty with me, That know to prize myself at mine own rate, De>pair his favour ^ Art thou mine ? j^pol. I am. Cleo. I have found out a way shall bring me to him, 'Spite of Photinus' watches. If I prosper, As I am confident I shall, expect 30 THE FALSE ONE. [Act II. Things greater tlian thy wishes.— Though I pur- chase His grace with loss of mv viryinify, It skills not, if it bring home majesty. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. Before the Royal Palace. Enter Septimius, with the Head of Pompey, Achillas, and Guard. Sept. 'Tis here, 'tis done ! Behold, you fearful viewers, Shake, and behold the model of the world here, The pride, and strength ! Look, look again ; 'tis finish'd ! That that whole armies, nay, whole nations. Many and mighty kings, have been struck blind at. And fled before, w^ing'd with their fears and terrors, That steel-War waited on, and Fortune courted. That high-plumed Honour built up for her own; Behold that mightiness, behold that fierceness, Behold that child of war, with all his glories, By this poor hand made breathless ! Here, my Achillas ; Egypt, and Caesar, owe me for this service, And all the conquer'd nations. Achil. Peace, Septimius; Scene I.] THE FALSE ONE. 31 Thy words sound more ungrateful than thy actions. Though sometimes safety seek an instrument Of thy unworthy nature, (thou loutl boaster !) Think not she is bound to love him too that's bar- barous. Why did not I, if this be meritorious, And binds the king unto me, and his bounties, Strike this rude stroke ? I'll tell thee, tliou poor Roman ; It was a sacred head, I durst not heave at,' Not heave a thought. Sept. It was ? Achil. I'll tell thee truly, And, if thou ever yet heardst tell of honour, I'll make thee blush : It was thy general's ! That man's that fed thee once, that man's that bred thee ; The air thou breath'dst was his, the fire that warm'd thee From his care kindled ever ! Nay, I'll shew thee. Because I'll make thee sensible of thy business,* And why a noble man durst not touch at it. There was no piece of earth thou put'st thy foot on, But was his conquest, and he gave thee motion ! • It -was a sacred head, I durst not heave at."] Our authors have falsified history in tlie character of Achillas, in order to draw our whole indignation upon the wretch Septiniius. Achillas joined Avith him in the murder of Pompey, as did Salvius, another Roman centurion ; but iieptimius stabbed him first in the back, and after- wards the two others in the face. — Seward. ' Sensible of thy business.] So the old folio. The second — the business ; and the editions of 1750 and 1778, at the suggestion of Seward and Sympson conjointly — thy baseness. But Mason very properly advised the restitution nf the old te.xt, which the next line renders absolutely necessary. " Achillas mean to say — * I will explain the nature of what you have d-ine, and why a noble nature durst not attempt it.' — It requiren no explanation to prove that a noble man durst not touch at baseness." 32 THE FALSE ONE. [Act II. He triumph'd three times : Who durst touch his person ? The very w alls of Rome bow'd to his presence ; Dear to tlie jrods he was : to them that fear'd him A fair and noble enemy. Didst thou hate him, And for thy love to Caesar sought his ruin? Arm'd, in the red Pharsalian fields, Septimius, Where killing- was in grace, and wounds were glo- rious, Where kings were fair competitors for honour, Thou shouldst have come up to him, there have fought him, - There, sword to sword. Sept. I kill'd him on commandment, If kings' commands be fair, when you all fainted. 