POMPEY

ACTI. SCENE I.

Enter PTOLEMY, PHOTINUS, ACHILLAS,

T

SEPTIMIUS.

PTOLEMY,

HE Fates difclose their book, and now we

read,

What of the * father, and the + fon's, de

creed.

Th' amazed Gods a-while feem'd all
divided;

What they demurr'd, PHARSALIA has decided!
Whose rivers dy'd with blood, and rapid made,
Swell with the fury of the ROMAN blade:
Arms, Eagles, bodies, all confus'dly spread,
Cover her fields, infected with the dead!
Heaps of the flain, deny'd a funeral,
Juft nature to their own revenge does call;

* Julius Cæfar.

M. 2
+ Pompey.

From

From putrid corps exhaling poisonous airs,
Enough to plague the guilty conquerors.
This is the title of great CE SAR's cause!
At this dire evidence, by MARS his laws,
CÆSAR's abfolv'd, and Po MPEY guilty cry'd!
This pity'd Leader of the jufter fide,
By weary Fortune of fuccefs bereft,
Is made a great example, and has left

The world a pattern of her rowling wheel;
Whofe difmal turn whole nations with him feel.
He! whose profperity was wont to vye
With his own with, from THE S SALY does fly:
The vanquish'd POMPEY to our ports, our walls,
Our Court, approaching, for a refuge calls
From his own father-in-law: his proud defeat
Seeks where against the TITANS a retreat
The Gods once found: where, in defpight of all,
They that fav'd heav'n (he thinks) may stop his fail;
And sharing the defpair on which he's hurl'd,
May give a prop unto the tott'ring world.

For, the world's fate on POMPEY's fate depends;
And to our EGYPT in diftrefs he fends,
For aid, or ruin; a recruit, or grave;

We must fink with him, or his fortunes fave.
This tempeft, friends! your grave advice must calm;
He brings dread thunder, or the welcome palm:
He crown'd the father, threatens now the fon;
MEMPHIS he gave, and hazards what h' has done.
His ruin I must share, or elfe comply

With CA SAR'S wish, and make my fuppliant die:
The firft, unfafe; the other bafe, and low;

I fear injuftice, or an overthrow.

* Ptolemy Auletes.

Do

Do what I can, to whatfoe'er I fly,

'Tis full of danger, or of infamy.

The choice is mine, and you are to confult

What to incline me to, by your

refult:

POMPEY's the theme; and we must have the praise
To trouble CÆ SAR, or complete his bays,
You fit on both their fortunes; upon more
Than any council ever fat before!

Photin. Sir! when the sword great caufes does decide,
Justice, and right, good ftates-men lay afide:
And who will wifely act in fuch a season,
Must balance strength, and not examine reason.
Weigh your own forces then, and POMPEY'S might;
His hopes are dafh'd, his fruitless valor light:
'Tis not from CESAR only that he flies,
But from the dread reproach, and wrathful eyes,
Of RO ME's great Senate; whofe best half invites
To a rich banquet the PHARSALIAN kites.
He flies the city, and the fons, of KOME;
Which his defeat to flavery does doom:

He flies the rage of nations, and of crowns,
That would revenge on him their ransack'd towns;
Their weaken'd States, of men, and money, drain'd;
Their reputation by his loffes ftain'd;

The cause of all their woes: hated by all

He flies; the whole world fhatter'd with his fall!

Will you against fuch oppofition ftand,

And bear his cause up, with a fingle hand ?
The hope he had was in himself alone;
What might be done, he did: he over-thrown,
You must give way: will you fuftain a weight
Which RoмE bends under, fhrinking from her height?

M 3

Main

Maintain a quarrel that has thunder-ftrook

The reeling world, and the great POMPEY broke?
They that the Faults of Fortune would amend,
And be too juft, against themselves offend;
Whilft, indifcreetly kind with vain effort,

They perish with those friends they would fupport:
Their faith has a brave luftre but they fall;
And honor leffens not the bruise at all.
Side with the Gods; declare yourself for Fate ;
Draw not on us their thunder, and their hate.
Ask not, how juftly, wherefore, they chaftife;
But, worship him whom they would have to rife:
Approve of their decrees, applaud their will;
And, whom they frown on, in obedience kill.
By divine vengeance on all fides persu'd,
POMPEY involves your EGYPT in the fewd:
His head (that he has shifted fo, to fave!)
Falling, your royal company would have:
His present coming I unfriendly deem ;
Th' effect of hatred, rather than esteem:
'Tis to deftroy you, hither now to fly;
And can you doubt if he deserve to die?

He fhould have come with bays upon his brows;
And with fuccefs have feconded our vows:

With feafts, and triumphs, then we had receiv'd him;
'Tis his own Fate, not we that have deceiv'd him.
Not him, but his ill fortune we neglect ;
For, to his perfon we would pay respect:
CÆSAR fubdu'd, by the fame fword had dy'd,
With which, less willingly! we pierce his fide.
Under his ruin you must shelter take;

And, in this ftorm, his death your harbour make:

Which, though the world should reckon as a crime,
Is but a juft compliance with the time.

2

The ftrict regard of justice does annoy
The pow'r of crowns, and policy destroy:
'Tis the prerogative of Kings to fpare
Nothing, when they their own deftruction fear:
He wants no danger, whom the care of Right
Keeps from injustice when 'tis requifite.
Who to his royal pow'r no bound would have,
To his own conscience must not be a flave.
And thus you have my counfel, mighty Sir!
Who kills the conquer'd, gains the conqueror.
Achil. PHOTINUS, Sir! fpeaks well: but, tho' the day
POMPEY has loft, his perfon yet I weigh:
I reverence that blood the Gods did spare,
When his whole army fuch a fate did fhare!
Nor fee I reason why it should be spilt.
Unless it prove a neceffary guilt,
What needs fuch rigor? Your eftate is fure;
Who takes no part, can make no forfeiture:
You may stand neuter, as you did before;
Though CESAR's rifing fortune you adore,
And treat him like a God, by my advice,
You fhall not make him fuch a facrifice:
For MARS it were too pretious! and will give
Your name a blot you never shall out-live :
It is enough that POMPEY hither came,
And found no fuccour, to keep you from blame.
The Senate, by his inclination led,
Set EGYPT's crown upon your father's head:
And yet, I fay not Kings fhould grateful be,
Beyond the bounds, and rule, of policy:

M 4

They