The False One: A Tragedy

Francis Beaumont, John Fletcher

The False One: A Tragedy

Edited by Arnold Glover

Persons Represented in the Play

Julius Cæsar,

Emperour of

 Rome.

Ptolomy,

King of

 Ægypt.

Achoreus,

an honest Counsellor, Priest of

 Isis.

Photinus,

a Politician, minion to

 Ptolomy.

Achillas,

Captain of the Guard to

 Ptolomy.

Septimius,

a revolted Roman Villain.

Labienus,

a Roman Souldier, and

 Nuncio.

Apollodorus,

Guardian to

 Cleopatra.

Sceva,

a free Speaker, also Captain to

 Cæsar.

Guard.

Three lame Souldiers.

Servants.

WOMEN

Cleopatra,

Queen of

 Ægypt. Cæsar's

Mistris.

Arsino, Cleopatra's

Sister.

Eros, Cleopatra's

waiting Woman.

The Scene

 Ægypt.

The principal Actors were,

John Lowin.

John Underwood.

Robert Benfield.

Richard Sharpe.

Joseph Taylor.

Nicholas Toolie.

John Rice.

George Birch.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima

Enter

 Achillas,

and

 Achoreus

[

Ach.

] I love the King, nor do dispute his power,

(For that is not confin'd, nor to be censur'd

By me, that am his Subject) yet allow me

The liberty of a Man, that still would be

A friend to Justice, to demand the motives

That did induce young

Ptolomy

, or

Photinus

,

(To whose directions he gives up himself,

And I hope wisely) to commit his Sister,

The Princess

Cleopatra

 (if I said

The Queen)

Achillas

 'twere (I hope) no treason,

She being by her Fathers Testament

(Whose memory I bow to) left Co-heir

In all he stood possest of.

Achil.

 'Tis confest

(My good

Achoreus

) that in these Eastern Kingdoms

Women are not exempted from the Sceptre,

But claim a priviledge, equal to the Male;

But how much such divisions have ta'en from

The Majesty of

Egypt

, and what factions

Have sprung from those partitions, to the ruine

Of the poor Subject, (doubtful which to follow,)

We have too many, and too sad examples,

Therefore the wise

Photinus

, to prevent

The Murthers, and the Massacres, that attend

On disunited Government, and to shew

The King without a Partner, in full splendour,

Thought it convenient the fair

Cleopatra

,

(An attribute not frequent to the Climate)

Should be committed in safe Custody,

In which she is attended like her Birth,

Until her Beauty, or her royal Dowre,

Hath found her out a Husband.

Ach.

 How this may

Stand with the rules of policy, I know not;

Most sure I am, it holds no correspondence

With the Rites of

Ægypt

, or the Laws of Nature;

But grant that

Cleopatra

 can sit down

With this disgrace (though insupportable)

Can you imagine, that

Romes

 glorious Senate

(To whose charge, by the will of the dead King

This government was deliver'd) or great

Pompey

,

(That is appointed

Cleopatra

's Guardian

As well as

Ptolomies

) will e're approve

Of this rash counsel, their consent not sought for,

That should authorize it?

Achil.

 The Civil war

In which the

Roman

 Empire is embarqu'd

On a rough Sea of danger, does exact

Their whole care to preserve themselves, and gives them

No vacant time to think of what we do,

Which hardly can concern them.

Ach.

 What's your opinion

Of the success? I have heard, in multitudes

Of Souldiers, and all glorious pomp of war,

Pompey

 is much superiour.

Achil.

 I could give you

A Catalogue of all the several Nations

From whence he drew his powers: but that were tedious.

They have rich arms, are ten to one in number,

Which makes them think the day already won;

And

Pompey

 being master of the Sea,

Such plenty of all delicates are brought in,

As if the place on which they are entrench'd,

Were not a Camp of Souldiers, but

Rome

,

In which

Lucullus

 and

Apicius

 joyn'd,

To make a publique Feast: they at

Dirachium

Fought with success; but knew not to make use of

Fortunes

 fair offer: so much I have heard

Cæsar

 himself confess.

Ach.

 Where are they now?

Achil.

 In

Thessalie

, near the

Pharsalian

 plains

Where

Cæsar

 with a handfull of his Men

Hems in the greater number: his whole troops

Exceed not twenty thousand, but old Souldiers

Flesh'd in the spoils of

Germany

 and

France

,

Inur'd to his Command, and only know

To fight and overcome; And though that

Famine

Raigns in his Camp, compelling them to tast

Bread made of roots, forbid the use of man,

(Which they with scorn threw into

Pompeys

 Camp

As in derision of his Delicates)

Or corn not yet half ripe, and that a Banquet:

They still besiege him, being ambitious only

To come to blows, and let their swords determine

Who hath the better Cause.

Enter

 Septiius

Ach.

 May Victory

Attend on't, where it is.

Achil.

 We every hour

Expect to hear the issue.

Sep.

 Save my good Lords;

By

Isis

 and

Osiris

, whom you worship;

And the four hundred gods and goddesses

Ador'd in

Rome

, I am your honours servant.

Ach.

 Truth needs,

Septimius

, no oaths.

Achil.

 You are cruel,

If you deny him swearing, you take from him

Three full parts of his language.

Sep.

 Your Honour's bitter,

Confound me, where I love I cannot say it,

But I must swear't: yet such is my ill fortune,

Nor vows, nor protestations win belief,

I think, and (I can find no other reason)

Because I am a

Roman

.

Ach.

 No

Septimius

,

To be a

Roman

 were an honour to you,

Did not your manners, and your life take from it,

And cry aloud, that from

Rome

 you bring nothing

But

Roman

 Vices, which you would plant here,

But no seed of her vertues.

Sep.

 With your reverence

I am too old to learn.

Ach.

 Any thing honest,

That I believe, without an oath.

Sep.

 I fear

Your Lordship has slept ill to night, and that

Invites this sad discourse: 'twill make you old

Before your time:—O these vertuous Morals,

And old religious principles, that fool us!

I have brought you a new Song, will make you laugh,

Though you were at your prayers.

Ah.

 What is the subject?

Be free

Septimius

.

Sep.

 'Tis a Catalogue

Of all the Gamesters of the Court and City,

Which Lord lyes with that Lady, and what Gallant

Sports with that Merchants wife; and does relate

Who sells her honour for a Diamond,

Who, for a tissew robe: whose husband's jealous,

And who so kind, that, to share with his wife,

Will make the match himself:

Harmless conceits,

Though fools say they are dangerous: I sang it

The last night at my Lord

Photinus

 table.

Ach.

 How? as a Fidler?

Sep.

 No Sir, as a Guest,

A welcom guest too: and it was approv'd of

By a dozen of his friends, though they were touch'd in't:

For look you, 'tis a kind of merriment,

When we have laid by foolish modesty

(As not a man of fashion will wear it)

To talk what we have done; at least to hear it;

If meerily set down, it fires the blood,

And heightens Crest-faln appetite.

Ach.

 New doctrine!

Achil.

 Was't of your own composing?

Sep.

 No, I bought it

Of a skulking Scribler for two Ptolomies:

But the hints were mine own; the wretch was fearfull:

But I have damn'd my self, should it be question'd,

That I will own it.

Ach.

 And be punished for it:

Take heed: for you may so long exercise

Your scurrilous wit against authority,

The Kingdoms Counsels; and make profane Jests,

(Which to you (being an atheist) is nothing)

Against Religion, that your great maintainers

(Unless they would be thought Co-partners with you)

Will leave you to the Law: and then,

Septimius

,

Remember there are whips.

Sep.

 For whore's I grant you,

When they are out of date, till then are safe too,

Or all the Gallants of the Court are Eunuchs,

And for mine own defence I'le only add this,

I'le be admitted for a wanton tale

To some most private Cabinets, when your Priest-hood

(Though laden with the mysteries of your goddess)

Shall wait without unnoted: so I leave you

To your pious thoughts. [

Exit.

Achil.

 'Tis a strange impudence,

This fellow does put on.

Ach.

 The wonder great,

He is accepted of.

Achil.

 Vices, for him,

Make as free way as vertues doe for others.

'Tis the times fault: yet Great ones still have grace'd

To make them sport, or rub them o're with flattery,

Observers of all kinds.

Enter

 Photinus,

and

 Septimius

Ach.

 No more of him,

He is not worth our thoughts: a Fugitive

From

Pompeys

 army: and now in a danger

When he should use his service.

Achil.

 See how he hangs

On great

Photinus

 Ear.

Sep.

 Hell, and the furies,

And all the plagues of darkness light upon me:

You are my god on earth: and let me have

Your favour here, fall what can fall hereafter.

Pho.

 Thou art believ'd: dost thou want mony?

Sep.

 No Sir.

Pho.

 Or hast thou any suite? these ever follow

Thy vehement protestations.

Sep.

 You much wrong me;

How can I want, when your beams shine upon me,

Unless employment to express my zeal

To do your greatness service? do but think

A deed so dark, the Sun would blush to look on,

For which Man-kind would curse me, and arm all

The powers above, and those below against me:

Command me, I will on.

Pho.

 When I have use,

I'le put you to the test.

Sep.

 May it be speedy,

And something worth my danger: you are cold,

And know not your own powers: this brow was fashion'd

To wear a Kingly wreath, and your grave judgment,

Given to dispose of monarchies, not to govern

A childs affairs, the peoples eye's upon you,

The Souldier courts you: will you wear a garment

Of sordid loyalty when 'tis out of fashion?

Pho.

 When

Pompey

 was thy General,

Septimius

,

Thou saidst as much to him.

Sep.

 All my love to him,

To

Cæsar

,

Rome

, and the whole world is lost

In the Ocean of your Bounties: I have no friend,

Project, design, or Countrey, but your favour,

Which I'le preserve at any rate.

Pho.

 No more;

When I call on you, fall not off: perhaps

Sooner than you expect, I may employ you,

So leave me for a while.

Sep.

 Ever your Creature. [

Exit.

Pho.

 Good day

Achoreus

; my best friend

Achillas

,

Hath fame deliver'd yet no certain rumour

Of the great

Roman Action

?

Achil.

 That we are

To enquire, and learn of you Sir: whose grave care

For

Egypts

 happiness, and great

Ptolomies

 good,

Hath eyes and ears in all parts.

Enter

 Ptolomy, Labienus,

Guard

Pho.

 I'le not boast,

What my Intelligence costs me: but 'ere long

You shall know more. The King, with him a

Roman

.

Ach.

 The scarlet livery of unfortunate war

Dy'd deeply on his face.

Achil.

 'Tis

Labienus

Cæsars

 Lieutenant in the wars of

Gaul

,

And fortunate in all his undertakings:

But since these Civil jars he turn'd to

Pompey

,

And though he followed the better Cause

Not with the like success.

Pho.

 Such as are wise

Leave falling buildings, flye to those that rise;

But more of that hereafter.

Lab.

 In a word, Sir,

These gaping wounds, not taken as a slave,

Speak

Pompey's

 loss: to tell you of the Battail,

How many thousand several bloody shapes

Death wore that day in triumph: how we bore

The shock of

Cæsars

 charge: or with what fury

His Souldiers came on as if they had been

So many

Cæsars

, and like him ambitious

To tread upon the liberty of

Rome

:

How Fathers kill'd their Sons, or Sons their Fathers,

Or how the

Roman

 Piles on either side

Drew

Roman

 blood, which spent, the Prince of weapons,

(The sword) succeeded, which in Civil wars

Appoints the Tent on which wing'd victory

Shall make a certain Stand; then, how the Plains

Flow'd o're with blood, and what a cloud of vulturs

And other birds of prey, hung o're both armies,

Attending when their ready Servitors,

(The Souldiers, from whom the angry gods

Had took all sense of reason, and of pity)

Would serve in their own carkasses for a feast,

How

Cæsar

 with his Javelin force'd them on

That made the least stop, when their angry hands

Were lifted up against some known friends face;

Then coming to the body of the army

He shews the sacred

Senate

, and forbids them

To wast their force upon the Common Souldier,

Whom willingly, if e're he did know pity,

He would have spar'd.

Ptol.

 The reason

Labienus

?

Lab.

 Full well he knows, that in their blood he was

To pass to Empire, and that through their bowels

He must invade the Laws of

Rome

, and give

A period to the liberty of the world.

Then fell the

Lepidi

, and the bold

Corvini

,

The fam'd

Torquati

,

Scipio's

, and

Marcelli

,

(Names next to

Pompeys

, most renown'd on Earth)

The Nobles, and the Commons lay together,

And Pontique, Punique, and

Assyrian

 blood

Made up one crimson Lake: which

Pompey

 seeing,

And that his, and the fate of

Rome

 had left him

Standing upon the Rampier of his Camp,

Though scorning all that could fall on himself,

He pities them whose fortunes are embarqu'd

In his unlucky quarrel; cryes aloud too

That they should sound retreat, and save themselves:

That he desir'd not, so much noble blood

Should be lost in his service, or attend

On his misfortunes: and then, taking horse

With some few of his friends, he came to

Lesbos

,

And with

Cornelia

, his Wife, and Sons,

He's touch'd upon your shore: the King of

Parthia

,

(Famous in his defeature of the

Crassi

)

Offer'd him his protection, but

Pompey

Relying on his Benefits, and your Faith,

Hath chosen

Ægypt

 for his Sanctuary,

Till he may recollect his scattered powers,

And try a second day: now

Ptolomy

,

Though he appear not like that glorious thing

That three times rode in triumph, and gave laws

To conquer'd Nations, and made Crowns his gift

(As this of yours, your noble Father took

From his victorious hand, and you still wear it

At his devotion) to do you more honour

In his declin'd estate, as the straightst Pine

In a full grove of his yet flourishing friends,

He flyes to you for succour, and expects

The entertainment of your Fathers friend,

And Guardian to your self.

Ptol.

 To say I grieve his fortune

As much as if the Crown I wear (his gift)

Were ravish'd from me, is a holy truth,

Our Gods can witness for me: yet, being young,

And not a free disposer of my self;

Let not a few hours, borrowed for advice,

Beget suspicion of unthankfulness,

(Which next to Hell I hate) pray you retire,

And take a little rest, and let his wounds

Be with that care attended, as they were

Carv'd on my flesh: good

Labienus

, think

The little respite, I desire shall be

Wholly emploi'd to find the readiest way

To doe great

Pompey

 service.

Lab.

 May the gods

(As you intend) protect you. [

Exit.

Ptol.

 Sit: sit all,

It is my pleasure: your advice, and freely.

Ach.

 A short deliberation in this,

May serve to give you counsel: to be honest,

Religious and thankfull, in themselves

Are forcible motives, and can need no flourish

Or gloss in the perswader; your kept faith,

(Though

Pompey

 never rise to th' height he's fallen from)

Cæsar

 himself will love; and my opinion

Is (still committing it to graver censure)

You pay the debt you owe him, with the hazard

Of all you can call yours.

Ptol.

 What's yours, (

Photinus

?)

Pho.

Achoreus

 (great

Ptolomy

) hath counsell'd

Like a Religious, and honest man,

Worthy the honour that he justly holds

In being Priest to

Isis

: But alas,

What in a man, sequester'd from the world,

Or in a private person, is prefer'd,

No policy allows of in a King,

To be or just, or thankfull, makes Kings guilty,

And faith (though prais'd) is punish'd that supports

Such as good Fate forsakes: joyn with the gods,

Observe the man they favour, leave the wretched,

The Stars are not more distant from the Earth

Than profit is from honesty; all the power,

Prerogative, and greatness of a Prince

Is lost, if he descend once but to steer

His course, as what's right, guides him: let him leave

The Scepter, that strives only to be good,

Since Kingdomes are maintain'd by force and blood.

Ach.

 Oh wicked!

Ptol.

 Peace: goe on.

Pho.

 Proud Pompey shews how much he scorns your youth,

In thinking that you cannot keep your own

From such as are or'e come. If you are tired

With being a King, let not a stranger take

What nearer pledges chall