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.

To them Achoreus.

CLEOPATRA.

But alas! I read no good presages in his Face; Speak Achoreus, let us freely hear What yet deserves my sorrow, or my fear.

ACHOREUS.

Assoon as Caesar did the Treason know:—

CLEOPATRA.

'Tis not his Conduct I enquire of now, I know he cut and stopt that secret vault Which to him should the Murtherers have brought, That to secure the Streets his men he sent, Where Photin did receive his Punishment: Whose sudden fall Achillas so amaz'd, That on th' abandon'd Port he quickly seiz'd; Whom the King follow'd, and that, to the land Antonius all his Souldiers did command. Where Caesar join'd him, and I thence do guess Achillas punishment, and his success.

ACHOREUS.

His usual Fortune her assistance gave.

CLEOPATRA.

But tell me if he did my brother save, And kept his Promise.

ACHOREUS.

Yes with all his might.

CLEOPATRA.

That's all the News I wish'd you to recite. Madam, you see the Gods my prayers heard.

CORNELIA.

They only have his punishment deferr'd.

CLEOPATRA.

You wish'd it now; but they have him secur'd.

ACHOREUS.

Or Caesar had, if he had life endur'd.

CLEOPATRA.

What said you last? Or did I rightly hear? Oh! quickly your obscure Discourses clear.

ACHOREUS.

Neither your cares nor ours could save him, who Would die in spight of Caesar, and of You: But Madam, in the noblest way he dy'd, That ever falling Monarch dignifi'd: His restor'd Vertue did his Birth make good, And to the Romans dearly sold his blood. He fought Antonius with such noble heat, That on him he did some advantage get: But Caesar's coming alter'd the event; Achillas there after Photinus went: But so as him did too much honour bring; With Sword in hand he perish'd for his King. O spare the King, in vain the Conquerour cry'd; To him no hope but terrour it imply'd. For frighted, he thought Caesar did intend But to reserve him to a shameful end. He charg'd, and broke our Ranks, bravely to shew What Virtue armed by despair can do. By this mistake his vexed soul abus'd, Still sought the death which still was him refus'd. Breathless at last, with having fought and bled, Encompass'd round, and his best Souldiers dead, Into a Vessel which was near he leaps, And follow'd was by such tumultuous heaps, As by their number, overprest, the Ship With all its fraight was swallow'd in the Deep. This death recovers all his lost Renown, Gives Caesar Fame, and You th' Aegyptian Crown: You were proclaim'd, and though no Roman Sword Had touch'd the Life so much by you deplor'd, Caesar extreamly did concern'd appear; He sighs, and he complains: but see him here,

Who better can then I his Griefs relate, For the unhappy Kings resistless Fate.