Howbeit I cannot touch him, for he slides

More swiftly from me than the ocean glides. t Chorus. 16 These are vain thoughts, or melancholy shews,

"That wont to haunt and trace by cloister'd tombs: ❝17 Which eath's appear in sad and strange disguises "To pensive minds, deceived with their shadows; "They counterfeit the dead in voice and figure,

66

Divining of our future miseries.

"For when our soul the body hath disgag'd,
"It seeks the common passage of the dead,
"Down by the fearful gates of Acheron;
"Where when it is by Eacus adjudg'd,
"It either turneth to the Stygian lake,
"Or stays for ever in th' Elysian fields,
"And ne'er returneth to the corse interr'd,
"To walk by night, or make the wise afraid.
"None but inevitable conquering death
"Descends to hell, with hope to rise again;

For ghosts of men are lock'd in fiery gates, "Fast guarded by a fell remorseless monster,

16 These are vain thoughts,] Dryden and Lee, in their Tragedy of Oedipus, A. 4, S. 1. have the following beautiful passage, which may be compared with the present:

When the sun sets, shadows, that shew'd at noon

"But small, appear most long and terrible;
"So when we think fate hovers o'er our heads,
"Our apprehensions shoot beyond all bounds,
"Owls, ravens, crickets seem the watch of death,
"Nature's worst vermin scare her god-like sons.
"Echoes, the very leavings of a voice,

"Grow babling ghosts, and call us to our graves :
"Each mole-hill thought swells to a huge Olympus,
"While we fantastick dreamers heave and puff,
"And sweat with an imagination's weight;
"As if, like Atlas, with these mortal shoulders
"We could sustain the burden of the world."

17 Which eath's appear, &c.] i. e. easy, easily. Eath is an old Saxon word, signifying ease. Hence uneath for uneasily. So, in the Second Part of Henry VI. A. 2. S. 4:

"Uneath may she endure the flinty streets." S.

Again, Spenser's Fairy Queen, B. 4. c. 12. § 1:
"For much more eath to tell the starres on hy,

"Albe they endlesse seeme in estimation."

"And therefore think not it was Pompey's sprite, "But some false Dæmon that beguil'd your sight.

Enter CICERO.

[Exit.

Cicero. Then, O world's queen! O town that did extend

Thy conquering arms beyond the ocean,

And throng'dst thy conquests from the Libyan shores,
Down to the Scythian swift-foot fearless porters 18,
19 Thou art embas'd; and at this instant yield'st
Thy proud neck to a miserable yoke.

Rome, thou art tam'd, and th' earth, dew'd with thy blood,

Doth laugh to see how thou art signioriz'd.

The force of heaven exceeds thy former strength:
For thou that wont'st to tame and conquer all,

Art conquer'd now with an eternal fall.

20

Now shalt thon march (thy hands fast bound behind thee)

Thy head hung down, thy cheeks with tears besprent,

18

- porters.] Probably booters. S. P.

S. P. would read booters; but he ought to have known that the Scythians were contemptuously styled porters, because they carried their huts and families about with them in wans; omnia sua secum portantes.

So Lucan, lib. ii. v. 641.

Pigra palus Scythici patiens Mæotica plaustri. Again, Horace Carm. lib. iii. Od. 24.

Campestres melius Scythæ,

Quorum plaustra vagas rite trahunt domos.

After all, what could booters mean? unless S. P. designed to characterize the Scythians, as Homer does his countrymen, xhudes 'Ayool, the well-booted Greeks. [Il. a. 17.] Free-booters, indeed, is used for plunderers; but I know not that booters is ever employed, unless in conjunction with some epithet that fixes its meaning. S. embas d.] Dishonour'd. So, in Spenser's Fairy Queen, B. 3.

19

-

c. 1. § 12:

"Thus reconcilement was betweene them knitt,

Through goodly temp'rance and affection chaste;
"And either vow'd with all their power and witt,
"To let not other's honour be defaste,

"Of friend or foe, who ever it embaste."

20 Now shalt thou march, &c.] Mr. Steevens observes, that this

Before the victor; while thy rebel son,
With crowned front triumphing follows thee.
Thy bravest captains, whose courageous hearts
(Join'd with the right) did reinforce our hopes,
Now murder'd lie for fowl to feed upon.
Petreus, Cato, and Scipio, are slain,

And Juba, that amongst the Moors did reign.

Now you, whom both the gods and fortune's grace Hath sav'd from danger in these furious broils,

Forbear to tempt the enemy again, des Aus May Loh

For fear you feel a third calamity.
Cæsar is like a brightly-flaming blaze,
That fiercely burns a house already fir'd;
And, ceaseless launching out on every side,
Consumes the more, the more you seek to quench it,
Still darting sparkles, till it find a train

To seize upon, and then it flames amain.

21 The men, the ships, wherewith poor Rome affronts
him,

All powerless, give proud Cæsar's wrath free passage.
Nought can resist him, all the power we raise,
Turns but to our misfortune, and his praise.

"Tis thou, O Rome, that nurs'd his insolence;
'Tis thou, O Rome, that gav'st him first the sword,

passage is very like the following in Shakspeare's Anthony and Cleopatra, A. 4. S. 12:

"Would'st thou be windowed in great Rome, and see

Thy master thus with pleach'd arms bending down
"His corrigible neck, his face subdu'd

"To penetrative shame, whilst the wheel'd seat
"Of fortunate Cæsar drawn before him branded

"His baseness that ensued?"

21 The men, the ships, wherewith poor Rome affronts him.] To affront,
is to meet directly. As in Fuimus Troes, A. 2. S. 1. vol. VII.
"Lets then dismiss the legate with a frown;

"And draw our forces toward the sea, to join
"With the four kings of Kent, and so affront
"His first arrival."

Which murd'rer-like against thyself he draws,
And violates both God and Nature's laws.
Like moral Esop's misled country swain,
That found a serpent pining in the snow,
And full of foolish pity took it up,
And kindly laid it by his houshold fire,
Till (waxen warm) it nimbly 'gan to stir,
And stung to death the fool that foster'd her.

O gods! that once had care of these our walls, And fearless kept us from th' assault of foes; Great Jupiter, to whom our Capitol

So many oxen yearly sacrific'd;

Minerva, Stator, and stout Thracian Mars,
Father to good Quirinus our first founder;
To what intent have ye preserv'd our town,
This stately town, so often hazarded
Against the Samnites, Sabins, and fierce Latins?
Why, from once footing in our fortresses,
Have ye repell'd the lusty warlike Gauls?
Why from Molossus and false Hanibal,
Have ye reserv'd the noble Romulists?
Or why from Cat'line's lewd conspiracies
Preserv'd by Rome by my prevention ?
To cast so soon a state, so long defended,
Into the bondage where (enthral'd) we pine?
To serve (no stranger, but amongst us) one
That with blind frenzy buildeth up his throne?
But if in us be any vigour resting,

If yet our hearts retain one drop of blood,
Cæsar, thou shalt not vaunt thy conquest long,
Nor longer hold us in this servitude.

Nor shalt thou bathe thee longer in our blood:
For I divine, that thou must vomit it,
Like to a cur that carrion hath devour'd,
And cannot rest until his maw be scour❜d.
Think'st thou to signiorize, or be the king
Of such a number, nobler than thyself?

Or think'st thou Romans bear such bastard hearts,
To let thy tyranny be unreveng'd?

No; for methinks I see the shame, the grief,

The rage, the hatred, that they have conceiv'd,
And many a Roman sword already drawn,
T'enlarge the liberty that thou usurp'st.
And thy dismember'd body (stabb'd and torn),
Dragg'd through the streets, disdained to be borne.

Enter PHILIP and CORNELIA.

[Exit.

Philip. Amongst the rest of mine extreme mishaps,
I find my fortune not the least in this,
That I have kept my master company,
Both in his life, and at his latest hour,
Pompey the great, whom I have honoured
With true devotion, both alive and dead.
One self-same ship contain'd us, when I saw
The murd'ring Egyptians bereave his life;
And when the man that had afright the earth,
Did homage to it with his dearest blood;
O'er whom I shed full many a bitter tear,
And did perform his exequies with sighs:
And on the strand upon the river side
(Where to my sighs the waters seem'd to turn)
I wove a coffin for his corse, of seggs 22,
That with the wind did wave like bannerets,
And laid his body to be burn'd thereon;
Which, when it was consum'd, I kindly took,
And sadly clos'd within an earthen urn
The ashy reliques of his hapless bones;
Which having 'scap'd the rage of wind and sea,
I bring to fair Cornelia, to interr

Within his elders tomb that honour'd her.
Cornelia. Ah me! what see I?
Philip.

Pompey's tender bones,

Which (in extremes) an earthen urn containeth.
Cornelia. O sweet, dear, deplorable cinders?

O miserable woman, living, dying!

O poor Cornelia! born to be distress'd,

Why liv'st thou toil'd, that (dead) might'st lie at rest?
O faithless hands, that under cloak of love

22 seggs.] i. e. sedges. S.