Nor worthy circumstance shew'd what a man was;
That never heard thy name sung but in banquets
And loose lascivious pleasures; to a boy,

That had no faith to comprehend thy greatness,
No study of thy life to know thy goodness:
And leave thy nation, nay, thy noble friend,
Leave him distrusted, that in tears falls with thee,
In soft relenting tears! Hear me, great Pompey,
If thy great spirit can hear, I must task thee:
Thou'st most unnobly robb'd me of my victory,
My love and mercy.

Ant. O how brave these tears shew!
How excellent is sorrow in an enemy!

Dol. Glory appears not greater than this goodness. Cas. Egyptians, dare you think your high pyramides, Built to out-dure the sun as you suppose,

Where your unworthy kings lie rak'd in ashes,
Are monuments fit for him? No, brood of Nilus,
Nothing can cover his high fame but heaven,
No pyramids set off his memories

But the eternal substance of his greatness:
To which I leave him. Take the head away,

And with the body give it noble burial.

Your earth shall now be bless'd to hold a Roman,

Whose braveries all the world's earth cannot balance--You look now, king,

And you that have been agents in this glory,

For our especial favour?

Ptol. We desire it.

Cas. And doubtless you expect rewards?

I forgive you all: that's recompence.

You are young and ignorant; that pleads your pardon;
And fear, it may be, more than hate provok'd ye.
Your ministers I must think wanted judgment,
And so they err'd; I am bountiful to think this,
Believe me, most bountiful; be you most thankful,
That bounty share amongst ye: if I knew
What to send you for a present, king of Egypt,
I mean, a head of equal reputation,

And

And that you lov'd, though it were your brightest

sister's,97

(But her you hate) I would not be behind ye. Ptol. Hear me, great Cæsar.

Cas. I have heard too much :

And study not with smooth shows to invade
My noble mind as you have done my conquest.
Ye are poor and open: I must tell ye roundly,
That man that could not recompence the benefits,
The great and bounteous services of Pompey,
Can never doat upon the name of Cæsar.
Though I

Had hated Pompey, and allow'd his ruin,
Hasty to please in blood are seldom trusty :
And but I stand environ'd with my victories,
My fortune never failing to befriend

me,

My noble strengths and friends about my person,
I durst not try ye, nor expect a courtesy
Above the pious love you shew'd to Pompey.
You've found me merciful in arguing with you;
Swords, hangmen, fires, destructions of all natures,
Demolishments of kingdoms, and whole ruins,
Are wont to be my orators. Turn to tears,
You wretched and poor seeds of sun-burnt Egypt:
And now you've found the nature of a conqueror,
That you cannot decline with all your flatteries,
That where the day gives light will be himself still,
Know how to meet his worth with human courtesies.
Go, and embalm the bones of that great
soldier;
Howl round about his pile, fling on your spices,
Make a Sabæan bed, and place this Phoenix
Where the hot sun may emulate his virtues,
And draw another Pompey from his ashes
Divinely great, and fix him 'mongst the worthies.
Ptol. We will do all.

Cas. You've robb'd him of those tears

His kindred and his friends kept sacred for him,

Cc 2

97 Cleopatra.

The

The virgins of their funeral lamentations;

And that kind earth that thought to cover him,

His country's earth, will cry out 'gainst your cruelty,
And weep unto the ocean for revenge,

Till Nilus raise his seven heads and devour ye.
My grief has stopt the rest: when Pompey lived,
He used you nobly; now he is dead, use him so.

LOVE'S PILGRIMAGE.

A COMEDY. BY JOHN FLETCHER.

Leocadia leaves her Father's house, disguised in man's apparel, to travel in search of Mark-untonio, to whom she is contracted, but has been deserted by him. When at length she meets with him, she finds, that by a precontract he is the Husband of Theodosia. In this extremity, Philippo, Brother to Theodosia, offers Leocadia marriage.

Will keep me deaf for ever. No, Mark-antonio,
After thy sentence I may hear no more,
Thou hast pronounc'd me dead.

Phi. Appeal to reason;

She will reprieve you from the power of grief,
Which rules but in her absence; hear me say
A sovereign message from her, which in duty,
And love to your own safety, you ought hear.
Why do you strive so? whither would you fly?
You cannot wrest yourself away from care,
You may from counsel; you may shift your place,

But

But not your person; and another clime
Makes you no other,

Leo. Oh!

Phi. For passion's sake,

(Which I do serve, honour, and love in you)
If you will sigh, sigh here; if you would vary
A sigh to tears, or out-cry, do it here.

No shade, no desart, darkness, nor the grave,
Shall be more equal to your thoughts than I.
Only but hear me speak.

Leo. What would you say?

Phi. That which shall raise your heart, or pull down

mine,

Quiet your passion, or provoke mine own:

We must have both one balsam, or one wound.
For know, lov'd fair,

I have read you through,

And with a wond'ring pity look'd on you.
I have observ'd the method of your blood,
And waited on it even with sympathy

Of a like red and paleness in mine own.

I knew which blush was anger's, which was love's,
Which was the eye of sorrow, which of truth,
And could distinguish honour from disdain

In every change: and you are worth my study.
I saw your voluntary misery

Sustain'd in travel; a disguised maid,
Wearied with seeking, and with finding lost,
Neglected where you hoped most, or put by;

I saw it, and have laid it to my heart,

And though it were my sister which was righted,
Yet being by your wrong, I put off nature,

Could not be glad, where I most bound to triumph;

My care for you so drown'd respect of her.

Nor did I only apprehend your bonds,

But studied your release: and for that day
Have I made up a ransom, brought you a health,
Preservative 'gainst chance or injury,
Please you apply it to the grief; myself.

Leo.

Leo. Ah!

Phi. Nay, do not think me less than such a cure;
Antonio was not; and 'tis possible

Philippo may succeed. My blood and house
Are as deep rooted, and as fairly spread,
As Mark-antonio's; and in that, all seek,
Fortune hath giv'n him no precedency:
As for our thanks to Nature, I may burn
Incense as much as he; I ever durst
Walk with Antonio by the self-same light
At any feast, or triumph, and ne'er cared
Which side my lady or her woman took
In their survey; I durst have told my tale too,
Though his discourse new ended.

Leo. My repulse

Phi. Let not that torture you which makes me happy, Nor think that conscience, fair, which is no shame; 'Twas no repulse, it was your dowry rather:

For then methought a thousand graces met
To make you lovely, and ten thousand stories
Of constant virtue, which you then out-reach'd,
In one example did proclaim you rich:
Nor do I think you wretched or disgraced
After this suffering, and do therefore take
Advantage of your need; but rather know,
You are the charge and business of those powers,
Who, like best tutors, do inflict hard tasks
Upon great natures, and of noblest hopes;
Read trivial lessons and half-lines to slugs:
They that live long, and never feel mischance,
Spend more than half their age in ignorance.
Leo. 'Tis well think so.

you

Phi. You shall think so too,

You shall, sweet Leocadia, and do so.

Leo. Good sir, no more; you have too fair a shape

To play so foul a part in, as the Tempter.

Say that I could make peace with fortune; who,
Who should absolve me of my vow yet; ha?

My contract made?.

Phi. Your contract?

Leo.