Page 47
Scene the Second.
Cleopatra, Cornelia, Philip, Charmion.
Cleop.
I Come not here, to interrupt the Course
Of those just Tears your powerfull Griefs inforce;
Madam, I can no more than you neglect
What this Urn justly may from me expect;
Your Hero's Reliques by a pious hand
Restor'd, this duty too from me Command;
Be pleas'd t' admit to these his Funeral Rites
A fellow Mourner whom true Grief invites,
And had my Power been equal to my Will,
This bewail'd Hero had been Living still,
I had preserv'd the Owner of your Heart,
If cruel Heav'n had let me play my part;
Yet if the sight of what it now does send
Could for a while your Sadder thoughts suspend,
If by Revenge your Sorrows might decrease,
I bring you News that cannot fail to please,
If yet you know it not, Photinus's Head.
Cornel.
Yes, Princess, I have heard the Traitor's Dead.
Cleop.
His hastned Suffering makes the more amends.
Cornel.
Perhaps to you, who in that meet your ends.
Cleop.
Wish't for Success to all must pleasant be.
Cornel.
Where Interests differ how can Thoughts agree?
If false Achillas the same Course should run,
Your Vengeance ends when mine is scarce begun.
I Blush to think that to my Hero's Shade,
So poor a Sacrifice as that is made:
No, if in order my Revenge succeed,
Till Caesar's turn, your Ptolomey must bleed.
I know that Caesar by your Love inclin'd,
To save him though unworthy has design'd,
But the just Gods will make his Labour vain,
For one deserving neither Life, nor Reign,