The False One | Page 9

a little stirs me, A little frets my bloud; take heed, proud Roman, Provoke me not, stir not mine anger farther; I may find out a way unto thy life too, (Though arm'd in all thy Victories) and seize it. A Conquerour has a heart, and I may hit it.
Sept. May it please your Lordship?
Pho. O Septimius!
Sept. Your [Lordship] knows my wrongs.
Pho. Wrongs?
Sept. Yes, my Lord, How the Captain of the Guard, Achillas, slights me.
Pho. Think better of him, he has much befriended thee, Shew'd thee much love in taking the head from thee. The times are alter'd (Souldier) C?sar's angry, And our design to please him lost and perish'd; Be glad thou art unnam'd, 'tis not worth the owning; Yet, that thou maist be useful--
Sept. Yes, my Lord, I shall be ready.
Pho. For I may employ thee To take a rub or two out of my way, As time shall serve, say that it be a Brother? Or a hard Father?
Sept. 'Tis most necessary, A Mother, or a Sister, or whom you please, Sir.
Pho. Or to betray a noble Friend?
Sept. 'Tis all one.
Pho. I know thou wilt stir for Gold.
Sept. 'Tis all my motion.
Pho. There, take that for thy service, and farewel; I have greater business now.
Sept. I am still your own, Sir.
Pho. One thing I charge thee, see me no more, Septimius, Unless I send. [Exit.
Sept. I shall observe your hour. So, this brings something in the mouth, some savour; This is the Lord I serve, the Power I worship, My Friends, Allies, and here lies my Allegiance. Let People talk as they please of my rudeness, And shun me for my deed; bring but this to 'em, (Let me be damn'd for blood) yet still I am honourable, This God creates new tongues, and new affections; And though I had kill'd my Father, give me Gold I'll make men swear I have done a pious Sacrifice; Now I will out-brave all; make all my Servants, And my brave deed shall be writ in Wine, for vertuous. [Exit.

SCENE III.
Enter C?sar, Antony, Dolabella, Sceva.
C?s. Keep strong Guards, and with wary eyes (my friends) There is no trusting to these base Egyptians; They that are false to pious benefits, And make compell'd necessities their faiths Are Traitors to the gods.
Ant. We'll call ashore A Legion of the best.
C?s. Not a Man, Antony, That were to shew our fears, and dim our greatness: No, 'tis enough my Name's ashore.
Sce. Too much too, A sleeping C?sar is enough to shake them; There are some two or three malicious Rascals Train'd up in Villany, besides that Cerberus That Roman Dog, that lick'd the blood of Pompey.
Dol. 'Tis strange, a Roman Souldier?
Sce. You are cozen'd, There be of us as be of all other Nations, Villains, and Knaves; 'tis not the name contains him, But the obedience; when that's once forgotten, And Duty flung away, then welcome Devil. Photinus and Achillas, and this Vermine That's now become a natural Crocodile Must be with care observ'd.
Ant. And 'tis well counsel'd No Confidence, nor trust--
Sce. I'll trust the Sea first, When with her hollow murmurs she invites me, And clutches in her storms, as politick Lions Conceal their Claws; I'll trust the Devil first.
C?s. Go to your rests, and follow your own Wisedoms, And leave me to my thoughts: pray no more complement, Once more strong Watches.
Dol. All shall be observ'd, Sir. [Exit.
C?s. I am dull and heavy, yet I cannot sleep, How happy was I in my lawful Wars, In Germany, and Gaul, and Britanny When every night with pleasure I set down What the day ministred! The sleep came sweetly: But since I undertook this home-division, This civil War, and past the Rubicon; What have I done that speaks an ancient Roman? A good, great man? I have enter'd Rome by force, And on her tender Womb (that gave me life) Let my insulting Souldiers rudely trample, The dear Veins of my Country I have open'd, And sail'd upon the torrents that flow'd from her, The bloody streams that in their confluence Carried before 'em thousand desolations; I rob'd the Treasury, and at one gripe Snatch'd all the wealth, so many worthy triumphs Plac'd there as sacred to the Peace of Rome; I raz'd Massilia, in my wanton anger: Petreius and Afranius I defeated: Pompey I overthrew: what did that get me? The slubber'd Name of an authoriz'd Enemy. [Noise within. I hear some Noise; they are the Watches sure. What Friends have I ty'd fast by these ambitions? Cato, the Lover of his Countries freedom, Is now past into Africk to affront me, Fuba (that kill'd my friend) is up in Arms too; The Sons of Pompey are Masters of the Sea, And from the reliques of their scatter'd faction, A new head's