The False One: A Tragedy. Beaumont Francis

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      Pho. I'le not boast,

      What my Intelligence costs me: but 'ere long

      You shall know more. The King, with him a Roman.

      Ach. The scarlet livery of unfortunate war

      Dy'd deeply on his face.

      Achil. 'Tis Labienus

      Cæsars Lieutenant in the wars of Gaul,

      And fortunate in all his undertakings:

      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, flye 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 Battail,

      How many thousand several bloody shapes

      Death wore that day in triumph: how we bore

      The shock of Cæsars charge: or with what fury

      His Souldiers came on as if they had been

      So many Cæsars, and like him ambitious

      To tread upon the liberty of Rome:

      How Fathers kill'd 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

      Appoints the Tent on which wing'd victory

      Shall make a certain Stand; then, how the Plains

      Flow'd o're with blood, and what a cloud of vulturs

      And other birds of prey, hung o're both armies,

      Attending when their ready Servitors,

      (The Souldiers, from whom the angry gods

      Had took all sense of reason, and of pity)

      Would serve in their own carkasses for a feast,

      How Cæsar with his Javelin force'd them on

      That made the least stop, when their angry hands

      Were lifted up against some known friends face;

      Then coming to the body of the army

      He shews the sacred Senate, and forbids them

      To wast their force upon the Common Souldier,

      Whom willingly, if e're he did know pity,

      He would have spar'd.

      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 fam'd Torquati, Scipio's, and Marcelli,

      (Names next to Pompeys, most renown'd on Earth)

      The Nobles, and the Commons lay together,

      And Pontique, Punique, 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 Rampier of his Camp,

      Though scorning all that could fall on himself,

      He pities them whose fortunes are embarqu'd

      In his unlucky quarrel; cryes aloud too

      That they should sound retreat, and save themselves:

      That he desir'd 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)

      Offer'd him his protection, but Pompey

      Relying on his Benefits, and your Faith,

      Hath chosen Ægypt for his Sanctuary,

      Till he may recollect his scattered powers,

      And try a second day: now Ptolomy,

      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) СКАЧАТЬ