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.

To them Cornelia.

CORNELIA.

Caesar, have a care, For Traytors have against thy life combin'd, And sworn thy Head shall be to Pompey's join'd. If to prevent them thou should'st be remiss, Thy blood will speedily be mixt with his. If thou my Slaves examine, thou may'st know, The Author, Order, and the Actors too. I yield them thee.

CAESAR.

O truly Roman heart!

And worthy him of whom you were a part! His Soul, which sees from its exalted State, How I endeavour to revenge his fate, Forgets his hate, and is become so kind, To save my life, by what he left behind. Whatever Treason could to Pompey do, Yet he does still subsist, and act in you: And prompts you to a thing so brave, that he May vanquish me in generosity.

CORNELIA.

Caesar, thou art deceiv'd in my intent, If thou think'st Hate yields to acknowledgment: No, Pompey's blood must all commerce deny, Betwixt his Widow and his Enemy. And I thy offer'd Freedom would enjoy, That to thy ruine I might it employ. Nay, I shall make new business for thy Sword, If thou dar'st be so just to keep thy Word. But though so much on thy destruction bent, Yet I thy Murther would as much prevent. I have thy death with too much justice sought, That it should now be with a Treason bought. Who knows and suffers does partake the guilt, Nor should thy blood be infamously spilt. But when my Husband's Sons, and Kindred do Attempt thy death, then I shall wish it too. And that some brave Arm, which I shall excite, May in the Field, and in thy Armies sight, Offer thee nobly to that Hero's Ghost, In whose revenge thou so much zeal bestowest. My restless thirst for such a day as this, By thy untimely fall its end would miss. But whatsoe're hopes from abroad I may Receive, yet I am rack'd by their delay. "For distant satisfaction is half lost: "And long expected joies too dearly cost. I shall not wander on the Affrick Strands; To seek the vengeance ready in thy hands,

Which does the head it threatens best befit: For I could thine have had instead of it; But that my hatred saw the difference great, Betwixt my Husbands murther and defeat: And I an earlier Punishment would see On their presumption, than thy Victory: This is Romes wish, Whose venerable brow To this affront, too just a blush would owe: If her two Noblest heads should (after all Her Triumphs) with so much dishonour fall. She, upon whom thou never could'st impose, Would sooner punish Criminals than Foes: Her Liberty would a misfortune grow, If upon Tiber Nile should it bestow. None but a Roman could her Master be, And but a Roman none should set her free. Here thou would'st fall to her unsacrific'd, And would'st be murther'd so, but not chastis'd. Nor would succeeding Tyrants frighted be, For the Example too would die with thee. Revenge her thou, on Egypts wrong, and I Will her revenge upon Pharsalia try. Adieu, no time in this should wasted be, Go then, and boast I once made vows for thee.