Beaumont Francis
The False One: A Tragedy

SCENE II

Enter Septimius

Sept. Here's a strange alteration in the Court;
Mens Faces are of other setts and motions,
Their minds of subtler stuff; I pass by now
As though I were a Rascal, no man knows me,
No Eye looks after; as I were a Plague
Their doors shut close against me; and I wondred at
Because I have done a meritorious Murther;
Because I have pleas'd the Time, does the Time plague me?
I have known the day they would have hug'd me for it,
For a less stroke than this have done me Reverence;
Open'd their Hearts and secret Closets to me,
Their Purses, and their Pleasures, and bid me wallow.
I now perceive the great Thieves eat the less,
And the huge Leviathans of Villany
Sup up the merits, nay the men and all
That do them service, and spowt 'em out again
Into the air, as thin and unregarded
As drops of Water that are lost i'th' Ocean:
I was lov'd once for swearing, and for drinking,
And for other principal Qualities that became me,
Now a foolish unthankful Murther has undone me,
If my Lord Photinus be not merciful

Enter Photinus

That set me on; And he comes, now Fortune.

Pho. Cæsars unthankfulness 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) Cæsar'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 Cæsar, Antony, Dolabella, Sceva

Cæs. 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.

Cæs. 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 Cæsar 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.

Cæs. 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.

Cæs. 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 sprung; Say I defeat all these too;
I come home crown'd an honourable Rebel.
I hear the Noise still, and it still comes nearer;
Are the Guards fast? Who waits there?

Enter Sceva with a Packet, Cleopatra in it

Sce. Are ye awake Sir?

Cæs. I'th' name of Wonder.

Sce. Nay, I am a Porter,
A strong one too, or else my sides would crack, Sir,
And my sins were as weighty, I should scarce walk with 'em.

Cæs. What hast thou there?

Sce. Ask them which stay without,
And brought it hither, your Presence I deny'd 'em,
And put 'em by; took up the load my self,
They say 'tis rich, and valu'd at the Kingdome,
I am sure 'tis heavy; if you like to see it
You may: if not, I'll give it back.

Cæs. Stay Sceva,
I would fain see it.

Sce. I'll begin to work then;
No doubt, to flatter ye they have sent ye something,
Of a rich value, Jewels, or some rich Treasure;
May be a Rogue within to do a mischief;
I pray you stand farther off, if there be villany,
Better my danger first; he shall 'scape hard too,
Ha! what art thou?

Cæs. Stand farther off, good Sceva,
What heavenly Vision! do I wake or slumber?
Farther off that hand, Friend.

Sce. What Apparition?
What Spirit have I rais'd? sure 'tis a Woman,
She looks like one; now she begins to move too:
A tempting Devil, o' my life; go off, Cæsar,
Bless thy self, off: a Bawd grown in mine old days?
Bawdry advanc'd upon my back? 'tis noble:
Sir, if you be a Souldier come no nearer,
She is sent to dispossess you of your honour,
A Spunge, a Spunge to wipe away your Victories:
And she would be cool'd, Sir, let the Souldiers trim her!
They'll give her that she came for, and dispatch her;
Be loyal to your self. Thou damned Woman,
Dost thou come hither with thy flourishes,
Thy flaunts, and faces to abuse mens manners?
And am I made the instrument of Bawdry?
I'll find a Lover for ye, one that shall hug ye.

Cæs. Hold, on thy life, and be more temperate,
Thou Beast.

Sce. Thou Beast?

Cæs. Could'st thou be so inhumane,
So far from noble Men, to draw thy Weapon
Upon a thing divine?

Sce. Divine, or humane,
They are never better pleas'd, nor more at hearts ease,
Than when we draw with full intent upon 'em.

Cæs. Move this way (Lady)
'Pray ye let me speak to ye.

Sce. And Woman, you had best stand.

Cæs. By the gods,
But that I see her here, and hope her mortal,
I should imagine some celestial sweetness,
The treasure of soft love.

Sce. Oh, this sounds mangily,
Poorly, and scurvily in a Souldiers mouth:
You had best be troubled with the Tooth-ach too,
For Lovers ever are, and let your Nose drop
That your celestial Beauty may befriend ye;
At these years do you learn to be fantastical?
After so many bloody fields, a Fool?
She brings her Bed along too, she'll lose no time,
Carries her Litter to lye soft, do you see that?
Invites ye like a Gamester: note that impudence,
For shame reflect upon your self, your honour,
Look back into your noble parts, and blush:
Let not the dear sweat of the hot Pharsalia,
Mingle with base Embraces; am I he
That have receiv'd so many wounds for Cæsar?
Upon my Target groves of darts still growing?
Have I endur'd all hungers, colds, distresses,
And (as I had been bred that Iron that arm'd me)
Stood out all weathers, now to curse my fortune?
To ban the blood I lost for such a General?

Cæsar. Offend no more: be gone.

Sce. I will, and leave ye,
Leave ye to womens wars, that will proclaim ye:
You'l conquer Rome now, and the Capitol
With Fans, and Looking-glasses, farewel Cæsar.

Cleo. Now I am private Sir, I dare speak to ye:
But thus low first, for as a God I honour ye.

Sce. Lower you'l be anon.

Cæsar. Away.

Sce. And privater,
For that you covet all. [Exit.

Cæsar. Tempt me no farther.

Cleo. Contemn me not, because I kneel thus, Cæsar,
I am a Queen, and coheir to this country,
The Sister to the mighty Ptolomy,
Yet one distress'd, that flyes unto thy justice,
One that layes sacred hold on thy protection
As on an holy Altar, to preserve me.

Cæsar. Speak Queen of beauty, and stand up.

Cleo. I dare not,
'Till I have found that favour in thine eyes,
That godlike great humanity to help me,
Thus, to thy knees must I grow (sacred Cæsar,)
And if it be not in thy will, to right me,
And raise me like a Queen from my sad ruines,
If these soft tears cannot sink to thy pity,
And waken with their murmurs thy compassions;
Yet for thy nobleness, for vertues sake,
And if thou beest a man, for despis'd beauty,
For honourable conquest, which thou doat'st on,
Let not those cankers of this flourishing Kingdom,
Photinus, and Achillas, (the one an Eunuch,
The other a base bondman) thus raign over me.
Seize my inheritance, and leave my Brother
Nothing of what he should be, but the Title,
As thou art wonder of the world.

Cæsar. Stand up then
And be a Queen, this hand shall give it to ye,
Or choose a greater name, worthy my bounty:
A common love makes Queens: choose to be worshipped,
To be divinely great, and I dare promise it;
A suitor of your sort, and blessed sweetness,
That hath adventur'd thus to see great Cæsar,
Must never be denied, you have found a patron
That dare not in his private honour suffer
So great a blemish to the Heaven of beauty:
The God of love would clap his angry wings,
And from his singing bow let flye those arrows
Headed with burning griefs, and pining sorrows,
Should I neglect your cause, would make me monstrous,
To whom and to your service I devote me.

Enter Sceva

Cleo. He is my conquest now, and so I'le work him,
The conquerour of the world will I lead captive.

Sce. Still with this woman? tilting still with Babies?
As you are honest think the Enemy,
Some valiant Foe indeed now charging on ye:
Ready to break your ranks, and fling these—

Cæsar. Hear me,
But tell me true, if thou hadst such a treasure,
(And as thou art a Souldier, do not flatter me)
Such a bright gem, brought to thee, wouldst thou not
Most greedily accept?

Sce. Not as an Emperour,
A man that first should rule himself, then others;
As a poor hungry Souldier, I might bite, Sir,
Yet that's a weakness too: hear me, thou Tempter:
And hear thou Cæsar too, for it concerns thee,
And if thy flesh be deaf, yet let thine honour,
The soul of a commander, give ear to me,
Thou wanton bane of war, thou guilded Lethargy,
In whose embraces, ease (the rust of Arms)
And pleasure, (that makes Souldiers poor) inhabites.

Cæsar. Fye, thou blasphem'st.

Sce. I do, when she is a goddess.
Thou melter of strong minds, dar'st thou presume
To smother all his triumphs, with thy vanities,
And tye him like a slave, to thy proud beauties?
To thy imperious looks? that Kings have follow'd
Proud of their chains? have waited on? I shame Sir. [Exit.

Cæsar. Alas thou art rather mad: take thy rest Sceva,
Thy duty makes thee erre, but I forgive thee:
Go, go I say, shew me no disobedience:
'Tis well, farewel, the day will break dear Lady,
My Souldiers will come in; please you retire,
And think upon your servant.

Cleo. Pray you Sir, know me,
And what I am.

Cæsar. The greater, I more love ye,
And you must know me too.

Cleo. So far as modesty,
And majesty gives leave Sir, ye are too violent.

Cæsar. You are too cold to my desires.

Cleo. Swear to me,
And by your self (for I hold that oath sacred)
You will right me as a Queen—

Cæsar. These lips be witness,
And if I break that oath—

Cleo. You make me blush Sir,
And in that blush interpret me.

Cæsar. I will do,
Come let's go in, and blush again: this one word,
You shall believe.

Cleo. I must, you are a conquerour. [Exeunt.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima

Enter Ptolomy, Photinus

Pho. Good Sir, but hear.

Ptol. No more, you have undone me,
That, that I hourly fear'd, is fain upon me,
And heavily, and deadly.

Pho. Hear a remedy.

Ptol. A remedy now the disease is ulcerous?
And has infected all? your secure negligence
Has broke through all the hopes I have, and ruin'd me:
My Sister is with Cæsar, in his chamber,
All night she has been with him; and no doubt
Much to her honour.

Pho. Would that were the worst, Sir,
That will repair it self: but I fear mainly,
She has made her peace with Cæsar.

Ptol. 'Tis most likely,
And what am I then?

Pho. 'Plague upon that Rascal
Apollod[or]us, under whose command,
Under whose eye—

Enter Achillas

Ptol. Curse on you all, ye are wretches.

Pho. 'Twas providently done, Achillas.

Achil. Pardon me.

Pho. Your guards were rarely wise, and wondrous watchfull.

Achil. I could not help it, if my life had lain for't,
Alas, who would suspect a pack of bedding,
Or a small Truss of houshold furniture?
And as they said, for Cæsars use: or who durst
(Being for his private chamber) seek to stop it?
I was abus'd.

Enter Achoreus

Ach. 'Tis no hour now for anger:
No wisdom to debate with fruitless choler,
Let us consider timely what we must do,
Since she is flown to his protection,
From whom we have no power to sever her,
Nor force conditions—

Ptol. Speak (good Achoreus)

Ach. Let indirect and crooked counsels vanish,
And straight, and fair directions—

Pho. Speak your mind Sir.

Ach. Let us choose Cæsar, (and endear him to us,)
An Arbitrator in all differences
Betwixt you, and your Sister; this is safe now:
And will shew off, most honourable.

Pho. Base,
Most base and poor; a servile, cold submission:
Hear me, and pluck your hearts up, like stout Counsellours,
Since we are sensible this Cæsar loathes us,
And have begun our fortune with great Pompey,
Be of my mind.

Ach. 'Tis most uncomely spoken,
And if I say most bloodily, I lye not:
The law of hospitality it poysons,
And calls the Gods in question that dwell in us,
Be wise O King.

Ptol. I will be: go my counsellour,
To Cæsar go, and do my humble service:
To my fair Sister my commends negotiate,
And here I ratifie what e're thou treat'st on.

Ach. Crown'd with fair peace, I go. [Exit.

Ptol. My love go with thee,
And from my love go you, you cruel vipers:
You shall know now I am no ward, Photinus. [Exit.

Pho. This for our service?
Princes do their pleasures,
And they that serve obey in all disgraces:
The lowest we can fall to, is our graves,
There we shall know no diffrence: heark Achillas,
I may do something yet, when times are ripe,
To tell this raw unthankful! King.

Achil. Photinus,
What e're it be I shall make one: and zealously:
For better dye attempting something nobly,
Than fall disgraced.

Pho. Thou lov'st me and I thank thee. [Exeunt.