Poems by the most deservedly admired Mrs. Katherine Philips, the matchless Orinda ; to which is added Monsieur Corneille's Pompey & Horace, tragedies ; with several other translations out of French.

SCEN. IV.

Caesar, Cornelia, Antonius, Lepidus, Septimius.

SEPTIMIUS.

Sir.—

CAESAR.

Go Septimius for your Master look, Caesar a Traytors presence cannot brook; A Roman, who to serve a King could be Content, when he had Pompey serv'd, and me.

[Exit Septimius.

CORNELIA.

Caesar, that envious Fate which I can brave, Makes me thy Prisoner, but not thy Slave:

Expect not then my Heart should ere afford To pay thee Homage, or to call thee Lord: How rude soever Fortune makes her blow, I Crassus Widow once, and Pompey's now; Great Scipio's Daughter, (and what's higher yet) A Roman, have a Courage still more great; And of all strokes her cruelty can give, Nothing can make me blush, but that I live, And have not follow'd Pompey when he dy'd; For though the means to do it were deny'd, And cruel Pity would not let me have The quick assistance of a Steel or Wave, Yet I'm asham'd, that after such a woe, Grief had not done as much as they could do: Death had been glorious, and had set me free, As from my Sorrow then, so now from thee. Yet I must thank the gods, though so severe, That since I must come hither, thou art here: That Caesar reigns here, and not Ptolomy; And yet, O Heaven! what Stars do govern me? That some faint kind of satisfaction 'tis, To meet here with my greatest Enemies; And into their hands that I rather fall, Than into his that ow'd my Husband all. But of thy Conquest, Caesar, make no boast, Which to my single Destiny thou ow'st; I both my Husbands Fortunes have defac'd, And twice have caus'd th' whole World to be dis∣grac'd; My Nuptial Knot twice ominously ty'd, Banish'd the Gods from the uprighter side; Happy in misery I had been, if it, For Romes advantage, had with thee been knit; And on thy House that I could so dispense All my own Stars malignant influence: For never think my hatred can grow less, Since I the Roman Constancy profess; And though thy Captive, yet a heart like mine, Can never stoop to hope for ought from thine:

Command, but think not to subject my will, Remember this, I am Cornelia still.

CAESAR.

O Worthy Widow of a Man so brave! Whose Courage, Wonder, Fate does pity crave; Your generous Thoughts do quickly make us know To whom your Birth, to whom your Love you owe; And we may find by your hearts glorious frame, Both to, and from what Families you came; Young Crassus Soul, and noble Pompey's too, Whose Vertues Fortune cheated of their due: The Scipio's Blood, who sav'd our Deities, Speak in your Tongue, and sparkle in your Eyes; And Rome her self hath not an ancient Stem, Whose Wife or Daughter hath more honour'd them: Would to those Gods your Ancestors once sav'd, When Hannibal them at their Altars brav'd, That your dear Hero had declin'd this Port, And better known a false Barbarians Court; And had not his uncertain Honour try'd, But rather on our ancient love rely'd; That he had suffered my successful Arms, Only to vanquish his unjust Allarms; Then he without distrusting me, had stay'd Till he had heard what Caesar could have said; And I, in spight of all our former strife, Would then have beg'd him to accept of life; Forget my Conquest, and that Rival love, Who fought, but that I might his Equal prove: Then I, with a content entirely great, Had pray'd the gods to pardon his Defeat; And giving me his Friendship to possess, He had pray'd Rome to pardon my success. But since Fate, so ambitious to destroy, Hath rob'd the World and Us, of so much Joy, Caesar must strive t'acquit himself to you, Of what was your illustrious Husbands due: Enjoy your self then with all freedom here,

Only two days my Prisoner appear; And witness be, how after our debate, I shall revere his Name, revenge his Fate; You this account to Italy may yield, What Pride I borrow from Thessalia's Field. I leave you to your self, and shall retire; Lepidus, furnish her to her desire; As Roman Ladies have respected been, So honour her, (that is) above a Queen. Madam, command; all shall your Orders wait.

CORNELIA.

O Gods! how many Virtues must I hate!

After the third Act, to Cornelia asleep on a Couch, Pompey's Ghost sings this in Recitative Air.

From lasting and unclouded Day, From joys refin'd above allay, And from a spring without decay.

I come, by Cynthia's borrow'd ••eams To visit my Cornelia's Dreams, And give them yet sublimer Theams.

Behold the Man thou lov'dst before, Pure streams have wash'd away his Gore, And Pompey now shall bleed no more.

By Death my Glory I resume; For 'twould have been a harsher doom To outlive the Liberty of Rome.

By me her doubtful fortune try'd, Falling, bequeaths my Fame this Pride, I for it liv'd, and with it Dy'd.

Nor shall my vengeance be withstood Or unattended with a Flood, Of Roman and Egyytian Blood.

Caesar himself it shall pursue, His daies shall troubled be and few, And he shall fall by Treason too.

He, by severity Divine Shall be an offering at my Shrine; As I was his, he must be mine.

Thy stormy Life regret no more, For Fate shall waft thee soon a shore, And to thy Pompey thee restore.

Where past the fears of sad removes We'll entertain our spotless Loves, In beauteous and immortal Groves.

There none a guilty Crown shall wear, Nor Caesar be Dictator there, Nor shall Cornelia shed a Tear.

After this a Military Dance, as the continuance of her Dream, and then Cornelia starts up, as wa∣ken'd in amazement, saying.

What have I seen? and whither is it gone? How great the Vision! and how quickly done! Yet if in Dreams we future things can see, There's still some joy laid up in Fate for me.

Exit.