The tragicomoedi of the vertuous Octauia. Done by Samuel Brandon. 1598

Actus quartus.

• Octauia.
• Mecoenas.
• Agrippa.
• Caesar.

YOu haughty Lords, that bury death and fate, In liuing monuments of lo•…•…ty fame: Whose worthy praise doth claime the boundles date, wherewith eternity doth blaze her name. Gainst whom raise y•…•…u these forces in such haste? Gainst whom lead you this danger threatning power? Doth hatefull Hanniball your confines waste?

Or Brennus sword your liues seeke to deuoure: No no my Lords, this your concea'ld designe, Resounding Echoes of most strange debate: With tragike tydinges fill'd these ears of mine, That powr'd on me the storme of all your hate. Neuer since princelie hande of Syluias sonne, Laide the foundations of these stately towers: Did sharpe mischaunce so much eclyps the sunne, Of our good fortune, with such fatall lowers. But if that wisedome euer found a place, Within your soules, which beautifies your praise: Now shew the same, and saue from high disgrace, Our bleeding honor, and death breathing ioyes. You know how bloud maintaines the life of warres, As doubtfull as deare bought the victory: Mans destiny is chain'd by vnknowne starres, To happy ioyes or mournfull misery. If you triumph, you conquer not your foes, But neighbors, kinsefolkes and your dearest friendes: Whose wounds bleed shame, and deep hart-peircing woes, Insteed of conquest this is your amendes. But if my Lord obtaine the lawrell wreath, And fortune smile on him with like successe: What fatall tempests, furious rage will breath, From his hearts caue, your selues may easily guesse. You know when touch of honor wings his minde, What lyon thoughts tyre on his haughty soule. Where wronged valour raignes tis hard to finde, Such pitty as may honors pride coutroule.

Then sith your course to loose your selues is bent, To loose your liues or purchase liuing shame: Let wisedomes eyes, blinde errours faults preuent. With ease a sparke, with paine is quencht a flame. Be aduocates for me to Caesars grace, And stop in time the current of his hate: Let gentle pittie in your mindes finde place, When swords haue pleaded, words wil come too late. You know my fortune euer hath been such, As dazeled Enuies eies with honors shine: But since Antonius hath augmented much, This soueraignty, and great estate of mine; Since nature, fortune, birth and maiesty, In fields of glory stirre vp ciuill warres, Which of them most should raise my dignity, And lift mine honor neerest to the starres; Since these two Emperours whose princely hands, Doe sway the scepter of the Romaine state: The one my brother, linkt in natures bands, The other is my spouse and louing mate; Since heauens themselues did in my life prouide, To shew the map of their felicityes: This Roome my Lords and all the world beside, Make me the obiect of their wondring eyes. Thus I that was more happy then the rest, And did excell in glory and renoune: With more then most disgrace shall be supprest, No fall like his that falleth from a crowne. And that which nature grantes the meanest wight,

They cannot loose which haue the conquest wonne: Yet with this strange Dylemma workes my spight, Who s'euer winne Octauia is vndone. Great Empresse, this bright sunne can witnes well, So can these heauens before whose powers I stand: That gainst our mindes Caesar doth vs compell, This enterprize you see, to take in hand. But for my selfe, and if the case be such, That but report is auctor of this iarre: If Caesars honor may be free from touch Of any staine, relinquishing the warre. Ile doe my best, and what I may perswade, To lay downe armes, wherein if I preuaile: A perfect league of friendship shall be made, That may the fury of this tempest quaile. And pardon me (deare soueraigne) though my speech Include exceptions in this doubtfull wise: I may not Caesar mooue, nor him beseech, What may his maiestie disroyallize. This said, behold my hand, my sword, my soule, Heere humbly prostrate at your princely feete: What you commaund let none dare to controule, This Caesar will and this we thinke most meete,

Arg.

Madam; your speech I thinke doth not extend, To the disparagement of your owne bloud: And sooner shall my life haue finall end, Then I refuse to doe your highnes good. Though last my speech, yet second vnto none Is my desire, t'effectuate your will:

But loe where Caesar comes himselfe alone, Arme we our tongues with words, our words with skil.

Caes.

Fayer issue of renoun'd Octauius race, My second selfe, Roomes glorious Empresse: Behold vs all assembled heere in place, To worke your safety and your wrongs redresse. Your Lord Antonius (as we heare) doth threate, To power sharpe stormes of deep reuenging Ire, Vpon our heads: and make th' imperiall seate His sole possession, ere he hence retyre. But let him know, though finely he pretend, To guilde iniustice with a Princes name: Though he triumph in words, yet ere I end, What he begins, he may repent the same.

Oct

My gracious Lord, high words doe but encrease The flame of vallour in incensed mindes: Leaue armes my Lord, and let vs treate of peace: Who best doth speed in war, smal safety findes, Ful wel the world your noble worth hath knowne, Let not new dangers needlesse tropheies raise. Let not th'effect of hateful deeds be showne, Against my Lord who may deserue your praise.

Caes.

Shal he be prais'd that is become our foe, Staine of our name, foile of the Romaine state: A seruile man, contriuer of our woe, And from all honor doth degenerate? Nay what is more, tis said he doth pretend, To worke our ruine, and our fatal end.

Octa.

Can foule suspition then, and false report,

In wisedomes confines holde so large a place: That it can foyle our reason in such sort, To fly the good, and worke his owne disgrace? The auncient Romaines wont to draw their swordes, To purchase honor, of their stoutest foes: But you whose groundes are vaine surmized words, By seeking honor, shall your honors loose. Fame hath two wings, the one of false report: The other hath some plumes of veritie; Why then should doubtful rumour, raise a forte Of mortall hate, against my Lord and me. Suppose he rais'd as you haue done, a power: He to defend, not to offend his friend, The heauens forbid that any fatall hower, Should your proceedings turne t'vnhappy end. Vnhappy no, he neuer falles amisse, That foiles his foe before his final ende: High honor, not long life, the treasure is, Which noble mindes without respect defend.

Oct.

The prize of honor is not alwaies bloud.

Cae.

Tis honor all whose end imports our good.

Oct.

O wretched state where men make haste to dye.

Cae.

True valour feeles nor griefe nor misery.

Oct.

He is your brother, be not then vnkinde.

Cae.

Iustice, not pitty, fits a Princes minde.

Oct.

He hath done nothing, spare an innocent.

Cae.

He doth too much that beares a false entent.

Oct.

You both are stronge and both will buy it deare.

Cae.

I arm'd with iustice, know not how to feare.

Oct.

O Caesar shall my heart be made a stage, For you to play a bloudie tragedie? Shall fearce misfortune, breathing spitefull rage, Make me vicegerent of all misery? If both of you misled in •…•…rrours maze, Doe seeke reuenge of misconceiued wrongs, For your owne sakes out of your fancies raze, The spots of mallice grafted with your tongues. But if mischance haue offered disgrace, To eyther party: O let me entreate, That for my sake, kinde pardon may deface, A fault so small, with breath of words made great.

Caes

Bright lamp of vertue, honors liuing flame, Whosoeuer winne, you can no losse sustaine: Whom partiall fortune list to crowne with fame, His be the day, the triumph and the gaine. The victor must be eyther your owne Lord, Or els your brother, who will both consent, To trie their fortunes with the dinte of sword. But shield you as the worlds chiefe ornament. If both we fall, (which hap the heauens forbid) All that suruiue, are subiect to your will. Your birth, your state, your vertues are not hid: But knowne, and lo•…•…'d, and will be honored still. no ear so deaf which hath not heard your name; Whose eares haue heard, their mindes your worth admire Whose minds admire, their harts loue doth enflame, And winnes them subiect to your owne desire. No perils threaten you, you need not feare.

Octa.

But many you, and I their burthen beare.

Caes.

Tis reason I, none els my griefes sustaine.

Octa.

Where nature forceth, reason is but vaine. And therefore Caesar heere I thee beseech, By these same scepter-bearing hands of mine: By these same teares, true witnes of my speech; By that same princely port and grace of thine; By all the loue thou bearest to Acciaes ghost, By all the rightes that louing mindes hold deare; Lay armes aside dismisse this puisant hoast, Let friendly truce release my minde of feare. If not, ile drowne my life in these same teares, And tyre with plaints the Pandionian birdes: Tyre th' Halciones, with griefe that beares To high a straine, for highest clyming words. Ile make the sunne for pitty cloath his steedes In sorrows liuery, and disdaine your sight: Force niggard Pluto with my wofull deeds, To entertaine my soules disgraced flight. Else will I flie and shrowde my face from shame, Where Pyndus hides his head amongst the starres: Or where ambitious Othris, wanting flame Of heauenly lamps, the cloudes swift motion barres. Ought will I doe, before these eies behold Death's vissage painted in that princelie face: Before ile see captiuitie, lay holde On those faire lims, which merit highest grace. Before ile see their bloudie weapons drinke, The nectar of thy life, or Iuorie stain'd,

With vgly gore: O let me neuer thinke, Or hope till then, to haue this life maintain'd. Before that time, death is a welcōme guest To my liues lodging: and O sisters deare, If euer pitty dwelt in dyrefull brest, Draw not my threed till that newes peirce mine eare. How oft when sleep inuites my drowsie eye, With natures curtaine to repell the light: And hide my minde from sorrows tyranny, Vnder the darknes of the silent night? Shal thy pale ghost defil'd with deaths foule hand, Stand in my sight, as in the cleerest day: And fury-like arm'd with blacke fiery brand; Affright my minde and chase dead sleep away? Which being gone, fierce sorrows cruell clawes, Seaze on my waking thoughts like tygers fell: And gripe my heart with sharpe tormenting pawes, That thousand times deaths rygour doth excell.

Caes.

O perfect vertue gracing woman kinde, Inuincible Octauia cease to plaine: O had Antonius halfe so good a minde, No discord could betwixt vs two remaine. My Lords what thinke you, how may we proceed? High honor cries reuenge vpon our foes: And yet Octauia crossing this our deed. Cannot resolue which of vs she would loose.

Agr.

I thinke it is a braue and Princely thing, With fire and sword to ruinate our foes: But greater glory is it for a King,

To saue his subiects from wars common woes. Tis wisedome noble Caesar, must aduance Our state beyond the reach of fortunes arme: Not fierce reuenge which workes effectes by chance, And glories most when most it worketh harme. And valour, such as doth contemne all feare, And guild our actes with honor and renowne: With gentle clemencie, our deeds endeare, And mount with vertue where chance throwes vs downe.

Mecoe.

The rarest thing a Princes fame to raise, Is to excell those that are excellent: All other to surmount in vertues praise, And be his kingdomes chiefest ornament. Make quiet peace within his coastes remaine, And succour those that liue in great distresse: From bloudy slaughter euer to refraine, With time, and wisedome, passions rage suppresse. These are the wings directing vertues flight. This is the fuell feeding honors flame. This is the path that leades to heauen aright. and sun-bright beames that guild braue Caesars name.

Caes.

Pitty my Lords, is often like a maske, That hides our eyes from seeing what is iust: Inuiting any t'vndertake the taske, To worke our woes and execute their lust. For to neclect the course we haue begun, Were to betray our selues vnto our foes: Where keeping stronge though no exploite be done, Yet gaining nothing, nothing shall we loose.

Why you'are ill inform'd of Antony, And his attempts exceed your knowledge farre: I feare me when you know as much as I, You'll pleade as fast to prosecute the warre. But see a stranger hasts into our sight, With further newes, and if I iudge a right.

Byl.

Thrice noble Caesar, hither am I sent, Hauing in charge from great Mark Antony: Th'ambassage of his pleasure to present, Before Octauia and thy maiesty. First he commaunds Octauia to depart, Out of his house, and leaue all that is his: The reason why, he list not to impart, It must suffice that such his pleasure is. He likewise will, thy highnesse knowledge take, How much he scornes thou shouldst his wil withstā•…•… And thereof meanes with fire and sword to make, A perfect demonstration out of hand.

Caes.

Will Antony our confines then inuade, With Ciuill warres, contriuer of our woe? Great reason preparation should be made, For to withstand so puisant a foe.

Byl.

Fiue hundreth saile of warlike ships he brings, Wherewith the froathing Ocean he scoures: And in his army are eight forraigne Kings, Eight Kings in person with their mighty powers. A hundred thousand well arm'd foote, are led Vnder Canidius their chiefe generall: Twelue thousand horse most strongly furnished,

All these are knowne, and knowne these are not all.

Caes.

How now my Lords, is this thinke you a time, To talke of clemencie? or of delay? Is not this mischiefe in his chiefest prime, Before we could the speedie spring bewray? What saith Octauia to these tidings strange, Are our coniectures vpon falshood grounded? Can this suffice your setled thoughts to change? Are not our liues with mischiefes Ocean bounded?

Octa.

Had I so many tongues to paint my woes, As euer silent night had shining eyes: Yet could not all their eloquence disclose, The throwes of greefe which do my minde surprize. But would to God, this world of misery, Mought presently be trebled vnto me: So that from imminent calamitie, My deerest brother Caesar mought be free. For me, long since I wel discern'd the storme, And sought by all meanes how I mought preuent it: But sith no wit can Antony reforme, O 'tis not I, but he, that wil repent it. I fear'd the stroke before I felt the wound, But now resolu'd the worst of chance to bide: True fortitude doth in my soule abound, My honor scornes the height of fortunes pride. The worst that can befall me is but death: And O how sweete is his liues sacrifize, On vertues altar that expires his breath, And in the armes of innocencie dyes.

They onely feare, and onely wretched are, From whose bad liues staind with impietie: Their dying fame doth to the world declare, Most shamefull stories of foule infamie. But those that know not, let them learne in me: That vertuous minds can neuer wretched be.

Caes.

My Lords, I wil yee presently proclaime Marke Antony, a foe vnto our state: That all his soueraignties yee straight reclaime, And all his dignities annihillate. We will not see the Romaine Empires shine, By any seruile minde to be defamed: To manage steele our nature dooth encline, Of womens wanton toyes we are ashamed. And therefore with such hast, as may be-fit, A matter that imports our dearest bloud: Weele meet Antonius, if the heauens permit, And what we say, there will we make it good. Adiew Octauia, and your selfe prepare To runne what course of fortune I approue: I•…•… happie starres to vs alotted are, Ile neuer be forgetfull of your loue.

Oct.

Honour attend thy steps, and till I see, The period of my worlds declining state: Ile neuer to my selfe a traytor bee, But seeke the meanes to stay your mortall hate.

Chorus.

EArth-ruling heauenly powers, Great Ioues immortall mates: That from your Chrystall bowers, Dyrect all mortall states, And vs like Actors do dispose: To play what parts you list t'impose. Must we▪ poore we, consent To call you euer iust? Though you our harts torment, Euen after your owne lust? And for each drop of hoped ioy: Powre downe whole tempests of annoy.

And that which is much more, Looke what we best do deeme: Doth vex our mindes more sore, Then that wee least esteeme. And that which nature saith is best: By tryall yeelds vs smallest rest. Who dooth not wish, to weare The terrour breeding crowne: And direfull scepter beare, As badge of high renoune? Yet who more iustly do complaine: That they the brunt of woes sustaine.

Stand who so list for me, In highest slipperie place: Though great their glorie be, Yet greater their disgrace. And who so subiect to mischance: As those whom fortune doth aduance. These base earth-creeping mates, Proud enuie neuer spyes: When at the greatest states, Hir poysoned quiuer flyes. Each tempest doth turmoyle the seas: When little lakes haue quiet ease.

Not those that are bedight, With burnisht glistering gould, Whose pompe doth steale our sight, With wonder to behoulde: Tast smallest sweet without much ga•…•…le: Nor finde true ioyes within their call. This did the heauens impose, Not that they are vniust: But for to punish those, Who glory in their lust. And our misdeeds procure vs still: To seeke our good amongst much ill.

A monster honour is, Whose eyes are vertues flame: His face contempt of this,

Which we pale death do name. His Lyon heart nought else dooth feare: But crowing cock of shame to heare. His wings are high desires, His feete of Iustice frame: Food dangerous aspires, His seate immortall fame. Onely the traine of Enuies plumes, With others growthe it selfe consumes.