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. III.

Caesar, Cleopatra, Antonius, Lepidus, Charmion, Achoreus, and Romans.

CAESAR.

The City now is quiet, Beauteous Queen, Which had alarm'd with little reason been; Nor need they fear the troublesome event Of Souldiers Pride, or Peoples Discontent: But O great Gods! when absent from your Eyes, A greater Tumult did within me rise; When these unwelcom Cares snatcht me from you, My heart, ev'n with my Grandeur, angry grew; And I my own Renown began to hate, Since it my parting did necessitate: But I forgave all to the single Thought How much advantage to my Love it brought: For 'tis to that, I owe the noble Hope Which to my Flame does give so fair a scope, And perswades Caesar that his Heart may prove Not utterly unworthy of your Love, And that he may pretend to that, since he Nothing above him, but the Gods, can see. Yes Queen; if in the World a Man there were That with more glory could your fetters bear; Or if there were a Throne, wherein you might By Conquering its King, appear more bright,

Less for his Throne would I the Man pursue, Than to dispute the Right of serving you.

'Twas to acquire that valuable Right, That my Ambitious Arm did alwayes fight; And in Pharsalia rather my Sword drew To preserve that, than Pompey to subdue. I Conquer'd, and the God of Battles, less Then your bright Eyes, afforded me success. They rais'd my Courage, and my hand did sway, And I owe them that memorable day. As the effect of heat by them inspir'd, For when your beauties had my passion fir'd, That a return might your great Soul become, They made me Master of the World and Rome. I would ennoble that high stile I wear, By the Addition of your Prisoner, And shall most happy be, if you think fit That Title to esteem, and this permit.

CLEOPATRA.

I know how much I to my fortune owe, Which this excess of Honour does bestow. Nor will from you my in ward thoughts conceal, Since I know both, you, and my self so well.

Your Love did in my earliest Youth appear, And I my Scepter as your Present wear: I twice receiv'd my Kingdom from your Hand, And after that, can I your Love withstand? No, Sir, my Heart cannot resist your siege, Who so much merit, and so much oblige. But yet my Birth, my Rank, and the Command Which I have now regain'd in Egypts Land, The Scepter, by your Hand restor'd to mine, Do all against my innocent Hopes combine; To my desires iniurious they have been, And lessen me, by making me a Queen: For if Rome still be as she was before, T'ascend a Throne, will but debase me more; These Marks of Honour will be but my Shame

And ruine my Pretences to your Flame: But yet, methinks, the Power you enjoy, Might all my Fears with ease enough destroy, And I would hope, that such a Man as you, May justly Romes Capriciousness subdue, And her unjust aversion for a Throne She might see cause, for your sake, to disown: I know that you can harder things effect, And from your Promise Wonders I expect; You in Pharsalia did much greater do, And I invoke no other Gods but You.

CAESAR.

There's nothing humane can my Love withstand; 'Tis but the over-running Affricks Land, To shew my Standards to the rest of those, Who did me with so ill a Fate oppose; And when Rome can no more of them Advance, She will be forc'd to study Complaisance: And you shall see her with a solemn State, At your Feet sacrifice her Pride and Hate: Nay I must have her, at your Royal Seat, In my behalf, your Favour to entreat; And with so much Respect these Beauties view, That she young Caesars shall request from you; This is the only Fortune I desire, And all to which my Lawrels do aspire: How blest were my Condition, if I might Obtain those Wreaths, and still enjoy your sight! But yet my Passion its own harm procures, For I must quit you, if I will be yours; While there are flying Foes, I must pursue, That I may them defeat, and merit you. To bear that absence therefore, suffer me To take such Courage from the Charmes I see, That frighted Nations may, at Caesars name, Say, He but came, and saw, and overcame.

CLEOPATRA.

This is too much; but if I this abuse,

The fault which you create you must excuse: You did my Crown, and perhaps life restore, And yet your love (I trust) will grant me more; And I conjure you, by its strongest Charms, By that great Fortune which attends your Arms, By all my hopes, and all your high desert, Dip not in Blood the bounties you impart; Great Sir, forgive those that have guilty been, Or else by that let me appear a Queen; Achillas and Photinus blood disdain, For they endure enough to see me reign; And their Offense—

CAESAR.

Ah! by some other way Assure your self how much my Will you sway, As you rule me, if I might you request, You better should employ your interest; Govern your Caesar, as a lawful Queen, And make him not partaker of their Sin: For your sake only, I the King durst spare; 'Twas love alone that—