No other object to inflame his blood,
  But that her Husband was a King, on both
  He did bestow rich presents; shall I then, _Achil._ 'Tis confest
  (My good _Achoreus_) that in these Eastern Kingdoms
  Women are not exempted from the Sceptre, Is like a King; to be at his, a vassail.
  Now take good counsel, or no more take to ye
  The freedom of a Prince. Friend to his Father, and when he was expell'd
  And beaten from this Kingdom by strong hand,
  And had none left him, to restore his honour, Since Kingdomes are maintain'd by force and blood. Her Soveraign Lord, to end in-gloriously
  A life admir'd by all? The threatned danger
  Must by a way more horrid be avoided, The story of a supream Monarchy,
  To which all hearts with mine gladly pay tribute,
  _Photinus's_ Name had long since been as great From such as are or'e come. If you are tired
  With being a King, let not a stranger take
  What nearer pledges challenge: resign rather _CÃ¦sar_. I wonder at the glory of this Kingdom,
  And the most bounteous preparation,
  Still as I pass, they court me with. Look upon _CÃ¦sar_, as he still appear'd
  A Conquerour, and this unfortunate King 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, For a poor King is a monster;
  What ear remember ye? 'twill be then a courtesie
  (A noble one) to take your life too from ye: (Thy Brother dead) shall willingly decree
  The Crown of _Egypt_ (that was his) to thee.  [_Exeunt omnes._ He was a _Roman_, and the top of Honour;
  And howsoever this might please Great _CÃ¦sar_,
  I told ye that the foulness of his Death, And if thou beest a man, for despis'd beauty,
  For honourable conquest, which thou doat'st on,
  Let not those cankers of this flourishing Kingdom, Or in a private person, is prefer'd,
  No policy allows of in a King,
  To be or just, or thankfull, makes Kings guilty, 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 The King without a Partner, in full splendour,
  Thought it convenient the fair _Cleopatra_,
  (An attribute not frequent to the Climate) _Sep._ I kill'd him on commandment,
  If Kings commands be fair, when you all fainted,
  When none of you durst look-- Rude valors, so I let 'em pass; rude honours:
  There is a wench yet, that I know, affects me
  And company for a King: a young plump villain,
_Sce._ A cunning thief, call him _Septimius_, Souldiers,
  The villain that kill'd _Pompey_.

  _All_. How? Did he not beat this _Pompey_, and pursu'd him?
  Was not this great man, his great enemy?
  This Godlike vertuous man, as people held him, Ye are poor and open: I must tell ye roundly,
  That Man that could not recompence the Benefits,
  The great and bounteous services of _Pompey_, _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. We have offended _CÃ¦sar_, in our wishes,
  And no way left us to redeem his favour
  But by the head of _Pompey_. _1 Sold._ No doubt
  Some excellent Salve for a sore heart: are you
  _Septimius_, that base knave, that betray'd _Pompey_? Offer'd him his protection, but _Pompey_
  Relying on his Benefits, and your Faith,
  Hath chosen _Ãgypt_ for his Sanctuary, _Ant._ Is't not _Septimius_?

  _Sce._ Yes.

  _Dol._ He that kill'd _Pompey_? _CÃ¦sar._ Oh _Sceva, Sceva_, see that head: see Captains,
  The head of godlike _Pompey_. He was a _Roman_, and the top of Honour;
  And howsoever this might please Great _CÃ¦sar_,
  I told ye that the foulness of his Death, Employs me as a Property, and grown useless
  Will shake me off again; he told me so
  When I kill'd _Pompey_; nor can I hope better, 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_, 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, But there's a _Rome_, a _Senate_, and a _CÃ¦sar_,
  (Though the great _Pompey_ lean to _Ptolomy_) _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. The Nobles, and the Commons lay together,
  And Pontique, Punique, and _Assyrian_ blood
  Made up one crimson Lake: which _Pompey_ seeing, But that this hour to _Pompey_ is his last.      [_Exit._ A good, great man? I have enter'd _Rome_ by force,
  And on her tender Womb (that gave me life)
  Let my insulting Souldiers rudely trample, _Ant._ Dar'st thou speak, and remember
  There was a _Pompey_? Was fashion'd to be false, wherefore should I
  That kill'd my General, and a _Roman_, one
  To whom I ow'd all nourishments of life,
He was a _Roman_, and the top of Honour;
  And howsoever this might please Great _CÃ¦sar_,
  I told ye that the foulness of his Death, Her Soveraign Lord, to end in-gloriously
  A life admir'd by all? The threatned danger
  Must by a way more horrid be avoided, I hear their Trumpets, 'tis too late to stagger,
  Give me the head, and be you confident:
  Hail Conquerour, and head of all the world,
  Now this head's off. _Pho._ The King is troubled: be not frighted Sir,
  Be not abus'd with fears; his death was necessary,
  If you consider, Sir, most necessary, Our lives and deaths are equall benefits,
  And we make louder prayers to dye nobly,
  Than to live high, and wantonly: whilst you are secure here, _1 Sold._ And valiant minds hold poysonous to remember.
  The Hangman will not keep thee company,
  He has an honourable house to thine, I was lov'd once for swearing, and for drinking,
  And for other principal Qualities that became me,
  Now a foolish unthankful Murther has undone me, _Sep._ I kill'd him on commandment,
  If Kings commands be fair, when you all fainted,
  When none of you durst look-- We took a noble Course, and hate base Treason,
  Some Souldiers that would merit _CÃ¦sar's_ favour,
  Hang him on yonder Turret, and then follow He may recover, thy part not engag'd
  Though one most dear, when all his hopes are dead,
  To drown him, set thy foot upon his head. Here they take life: here they inherit honour,
  Grow fixt, and shoot up everlasting triumphs:
  Take it, and look upon thy humble servant, _Sce._ Furies plague 'em,
  They had too fair an end to dye like Souldiers,
  _Pompey_ fell by the Sword, the Cross or Halter
  Should have dispatch'd them. If not, stay here a Bond-man to thy Slave,
  And dead, be thought unworthy of a Grave.         [_Exeunt._ _2 Sol._ This fellow would make a rare speech at the gallows.

  _[3] Sol._ 'Tis very fit he were hang'd to edifie us: _CÃ¦s._ All is but death, good _Sceva_,
  Be therefore satisfied: and now my dearest, They'll give her that she came for, and dispatch her;
  Be loyal to your self. Thou damned Woman,
  Dost thou come hither with thy flourishes, If that adored head be not yet sever'd
  From the most noble Body, weigh the miseries,
  The desolations that this great Eclipse works, 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 Fie, how it choaks! too little of your loyaltie,
  Your honesty, your faith, that are pure Ambers;
  I smell the rotten smell of a hired Coward, To strike the Stag, who wounded by her arrows,
  Forgot his tears in death, and kneeling thanks her
  To his last gasp, then prouder of his Fate,
SCENE III.

    _Enter_ Septimius. _Enter_ Septimius.

  _1 Sold._ He spares us that labour,
  For here he comes. _Enter_ Septimius. _Sept._ Stay, _CÃ¦sar_.

  _CÃ¦s._ Who's this? the Dog, _Septimius_?

  _Ant._ Cut his throat. _Ant._ Is't not _Septimius_?

  _Sce._ Yes.

  _Dol._ He that kill'd _Pompey_? _Sce._ A cunning thief, call him _Septimius_, Souldiers,
  The villain that kill'd _Pompey_.

  _All_. How? _Sept_. May it please your Lordship?

  _Pho._ O _Septimius_!

  _Sept._ Your [Lordship] knows my wrongs. _Achil._ It is not that: it may be some disgrace
  That he takes heavily; and would be cherish'd,
  _Septimius_ ever scorn'd to shew such weakness. _Enter_ Septimius.

  _Ant._ What's this fellow?

  _Dol._ Why, a brave fellow, if we judge men by their clothes. _Ach._ No _Septimius_,
  To be a _Roman_ were an honour to you,
  Did not your manners, and your life take from it, _Pho._ When _Pompey_ was thy General, _Septimius_,
  Thou saidst as much to him. Arm'd in the red _Pharsalian_ fields, _Septimius_,
  Where killing was in grace, and wounds were glorious,
  Where Kings were fair competitours for honour, _Sept._ I am an altered man, altered indeed,
  And will give you cause to say I am a _Roman_.

  _Dol._ Rogue, I grant thee. _Sept._  Thus, _CÃ¦sar_,
  To me alone, but bound by terrible oaths
  Not to discover it, he hath reveal'd _ACTUS SECUNDUS. SCENA PRIMA._

    _Enter_ Septimius, _with a head_, Achillas, _Guard._ _Achil._ Thou shalt have all:
  And do all through thy power, men shall admire thee,
  And the vices of _Septimius_ shall turn vertues. (Unless they would be thought Co-partners with you)
  Will leave you to the Law: and then, _Septimius_,
  Remember there are whips. _Pho._ Well said _Septimius_,
  Thou now art right again.

  _Achil._ But what course take we
  For the Princess _Cleopatra_? _3 Sold._ And I too: look'd upon him, and observ'd it,
  He's the strangest _Septimus_ now-- _1 Sold._ No doubt
  Some excellent Salve for a sore heart: are you
  _Septimius_, that base knave, that betray'd _Pompey_?
SCENE III.

    _Enter_ Septimius. _Enter_ Septimius.

  _1 Sold._ He spares us that labour,
  For here he comes. _Enter_ Septimius.

  _Ant._ What's this fellow?

  _Dol._ Why, a brave fellow, if we judge men by their clothes. _Achil._ It is not that: it may be some disgrace
  That he takes heavily; and would be cherish'd,
  _Septimius_ ever scorn'd to shew such weakness. _Sept_. May it please your Lordship?

  _Pho._ O _Septimius_!

  _Sept._ Your [Lordship] knows my wrongs. _Sept._ Stay, _CÃ¦sar_.

  _CÃ¦s._ Who's this? the Dog, _Septimius_?

  _Ant._ Cut his throat. _Enter_ Septimius. _Sce._ A cunning thief, call him _Septimius_, Souldiers,
  The villain that kill'd _Pompey_.

  _All_. How? _Ant._ Is't not _Septimius_?

  _Sce._ Yes.

  _Dol._ He that kill'd _Pompey_? _Ach._ Peace _Septimius_,
  Thy words sound more ungratefull than thy actions,
  Though sometimes safety seek an instrument _Ach._ No _Septimius_,
  To be a _Roman_ were an honour to you,
  Did not your manners, and your life take from it, _ACTUS SECUNDUS. SCENA PRIMA._

    _Enter_ Septimius, _with a head_, Achillas, _Guard._ _Sept._ I am an altered man, altered indeed,
  And will give you cause to say I am a _Roman_.

  _Dol._ Rogue, I grant thee. _Pho._ Good _Achillas_,
  Seek out _Septimius_: do you but sooth him,
  He is already wrought: leave the dispatch _3 Sold._ And I too: look'd upon him, and observ'd it,
  He's the strangest _Septimus_ now-- Call up the thing thou nam'st thy conscience,
  And let it work: then 'twill seem well _Septimius_. _Sept._ I shall observe your hour.
  So, this brings something in the mouth, some savour;
  This is the Lord I serve, the Power I worship, Arm'd in the red _Pharsalian_ fields, _Septimius_,
  Where killing was in grace, and wounds were glorious,
  Where Kings were fair competitours for honour, _Achil._ Thou shalt have all:
  And do all through thy power, men shall admire thee,
  And the vices of _Septimius_ shall turn vertues. _Enter_ Septi[m]ius.

  _Ach._ May Victory
  Attend on't, where it is.
But _Cleopatra_ in the _Egyptian_ Sphear. May think of _Cleopatra_. _We treat not of what boldness she did dye,_
  _Nor of her fatal Love to_ Antony.
  _What we present and offer to your view,_ The King without a Partner, in full splendour,
  Thought it convenient the fair _Cleopatra_,
  (An attribute not frequent to the Climate) _Cleo._ Yet (my _Eros_)
  Though thou hast profited nothing by observing
  The whole course of my life, learn in my death,
  Though not to equal, yet to imitate
  Thy fearless Mistress. _Cleo._ No, no, I love not that way; you are cozen'd:
  I love with as much ambition as a Conquerour,
  And where I love, will triumph. _Enter_ Cleopatra.

  _Ant._ The young Queen comes: give room.

  _CÃ¦sar_. Welcom (my dearest)
  Come bless my side. _Cleo._ Pray you Sir, know me,
  And what I am.

  _CÃ¦sar_. The greater, I more love ye,
  And you must know me too. The Princess _Cleopatra_ (if I said
  The Queen) _Achillas_ 'twere (I hope) no treason,
  She being by her Fathers Testament _Enter_ Sceva _with a Packet_, Cleopatra _in it._

  _Sce._ Are ye awake Sir?

  _CÃ¦s._ I'th' name of Wonder. _Cleo._ He is no man:
  The shadow of a Greatness hangs upon him,
  And not the vertue: he is no Conquerour, _CÃ¦sar_. Tell me
  From whence comes all this wealth?

  _Cleo._ Is your eye that way?
  And all my Beauties banisht? _Cleo._ How? frown on me?
  The eyes of _CÃ¦sar_ wrapt in storms?

  _CÃ¦sar_. I am sorry:
  But let me think-- Are to delight us: alas, you wash an _Ethiop_:
  Can _Cleopatra_, while she does remember
  Whose Daughter she is, and whose Sister? (O _CÃ¦sar_. These lips be witness,
  And if I break that oath--

  _Cleo._ You make me blush Sir,
  And in that blush interpret me. _Enter_ Sceva.

  _Cleo._ He is my conquest now, and so I'le work him,
  The conquerour of the world will I lead captive. _Cleo._ So far as modesty,
  And majesty gives leave Sir, ye are too violent.

  _CÃ¦sar_. You are too cold to my desires. _Cleo._ Command, and goe without, Sir.
  I do command thee be my slave for ever,
  And vex while I laugh at thee. _Cleo._ And that great blessedness
  You first reap'd of me: till you taught my nature
  Like a rude storm to talk aloud, and thunder, _Cleo._ Now I am private Sir, I dare speak to ye:
  But thus low first, for as a God I honour ye.

  _Sce._ Lower you'l be anon.
THE FALSE ONE

A Tragedy

by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher

Edited by Arnold Glover _We treat not of what boldness she did dye,_
  _Nor of her fatal Love to_ Antony.
  _What we present and offer to your view,_ But _Cleopatra_ in the _Egyptian_ Sphear. _Cleo._ He is no man:
  The shadow of a Greatness hangs upon him,
  And not the vertue: he is no Conquerour, _Cleo._ Yet (my _Eros_)
  Though thou hast profited nothing by observing
  The whole course of my life, learn in my death,
  Though not to equal, yet to imitate
  Thy fearless Mistress. _Cleo._ It is too late; when I have found thee absolute,
  The man that Fame reports thee, and to me,
  May be I shall think better. Farewel Conquerour.  [_Exit._ _Cleo._ No, no, I love not that way; you are cozen'd:
  I love with as much ambition as a Conquerour,
  And where I love, will triumph. _Cleo._ Pray you Sir, know me,
  And what I am.

  _CÃ¦sar_. The greater, I more love ye,
  And you must know me too. _Cleo._ Stand off: to thee alone,
  I will discover what I dare not trust
  My Sister with, _CÃ¦sar_ is amorous, _Enter_ Cleopatra.

  _Ant._ The young Queen comes: give room.

  _CÃ¦sar_. Welcom (my dearest)
  Come bless my side. _Cleo._ Shew him a glass; that false face has betrai'd me:
  That base heart wrought me-- _Enter_ Sceva _with a Packet_, Cleopatra _in it._

  _Sce._ Are ye awake Sir?

  _CÃ¦s._ I'th' name of Wonder. _Cleo._ Now I am private Sir, I dare speak to ye:
  But thus low first, for as a God I honour ye.

  _Sce._ Lower you'l be anon. Was fashion'd to be false, wherefore should I
  That kill'd my General, and a _Roman_, one
  To whom I ow'd all nourishments of life, _Cleo._ Let me think first
  Whether I may put on a Patience
  That will with honour suffer me: know, I hate ye,
  Let that begin the story: Now I'le tell ye. _Ap._ To _Egypt_.

  _Cleo._ Ha! in person?

  _Ap._ 'Tis receiv'd
  For an undoubted truth. The King without a Partner, in full splendour,
  Thought it convenient the fair _Cleopatra_,
  (An attribute not frequent to the Climate) May think of _Cleopatra_. _CÃ¦sar_. These lips be witness,
  And if I break that oath--

  _Cleo._ You make me blush Sir,
  And in that blush interpret me. _Cleo._ How? frown on me?
  The eyes of _CÃ¦sar_ wrapt in storms?

  _CÃ¦sar_. I am sorry:
  But let me think--
(Thy Brother dead) shall willingly decree
  The Crown of _Egypt_ (that was his) to thee.  [_Exeunt omnes._ (That is appointed _Cleopatra_'s Guardian
  As well as _Ptolomies_) will e're approve
  Of this rash counsel, their consent not sought for, _Cleo._ Contemn me not, because I kneel thus, _CÃ¦sar_,
  I am a Queen, and coheir to this country, The Crown, and sweat of thy _Pharsalian_ labour:
  The goal and mark of high ambitious honour.
  Before thy victory had no name, _CÃ¦sar_, _Ap._ His army routed: he fled and pursu'd
  By the all-conquering CÃ¦sar.

  _Cleo._ Whither bends he? _Cleo._ Be merry Sir,
  My Brother will be proud to do you honour
  That now appears himself.

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Achillas, Photinus, Apollodorus. _CÃ¦sar_. He comes: and I
  Shall do as I find cause.

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus. Upon that Soveraignty thou shouldst bow to.
  If in the Gulph of base ingratitude,
  All loyalty to _Ptolomy_ the King _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, The King without a Partner, in full splendour,
  Thought it convenient the fair _Cleopatra_,
  (An attribute not frequent to the Climate) _CÃ¦sar_. The matchless wealth of this Land!

  _Cleo._ Come, ye shall hear me.

  _CÃ¦sar_. Away: let me imagine. With the Rites of _Ãgypt_, or the Laws of Nature;
  But grant that _Cleopatra_ can sit down
  With this disgrace (though insupportable) Are wont to be my Orators; turn to tears,
  You wretched and poor seeds of Sun-burnt _Egypt_,
  And now you have found the nature of a Conquerour, _Pho._ Well said _Septimius_,
  Thou now art right again.

  _Achil._ But what course take we
  For the Princess _Cleopatra_? Thou awe of Nations, wherefore didst thou fall thus?
  What poor fate follow'd thee, and pluckt thee on
  To trust thy sacred life to an _Egyptian_; _Achil._ The deed is bloody
  If we conclude in _Ptolomies_ death.

  _Pho._ The better,
  The globe of Empire must be so manur'd. But was his conquest; and he gave thee motion.
  He triumph'd three times, who durst touch his person?
  The very walls of _Rome_ bow'd to his presence, The Princess _Cleopatra_ (if I said
  The Queen) _Achillas_ 'twere (I hope) no treason,
  She being by her Fathers Testament Julius CÃ¦sar, _Emperour of_ Rome.
  Ptolomy, _King of_ Ãgypt. _Enter_ Achillas, _and Souldiers, with the Body of_ Ptolomy.

  _Pho._ The King dead? this is a fair entrance to
  Our future happiness.
_Enter_ Cleopatra.

  _Ant._ The young Queen comes: give room.

  _CÃ¦sar_. Welcom (my dearest)
  Come bless my side. _Ap._ To _Egypt_.

  _Cleo._ Ha! in person?

  _Ap._ 'Tis receiv'd
  For an undoubted truth. _Cleo._ It is too late; when I have found thee absolute,
  The man that Fame reports thee, and to me,
  May be I shall think better. Farewel Conquerour.  [_Exit._ _CÃ¦sar_. The matchless wealth of this Land!

  _Cleo._ Come, ye shall hear me.

  _CÃ¦sar_. Away: let me imagine. But _Cleopatra_ in the _Egyptian_ Sphear. _Cleo._ Contemn me not, because I kneel thus, _CÃ¦sar_,
  I am a Queen, and coheir to this country, _Enter_ Sceva.

  _Cleo._ He is my conquest now, and so I'le work him,
  The conquerour of the world will I lead captive. The King without a Partner, in full splendour,
  Thought it convenient the fair _Cleopatra_,
  (An attribute not frequent to the Climate) _Enter_ Cleopatra. _Cleo._ Pray you Sir, know me,
  And what I am.

  _CÃ¦sar_. The greater, I more love ye,
  And you must know me too. _We treat not of what boldness she did dye,_
  _Nor of her fatal Love to_ Antony.
  _What we present and offer to your view,_ With the Rites of _Ãgypt_, or the Laws of Nature;
  But grant that _Cleopatra_ can sit down
  With this disgrace (though insupportable) _Pho._ Well said _Septimius_,
  Thou now art right again.

  _Achil._ But what course take we
  For the Princess _Cleopatra_? _Cleo._ So far as modesty,
  And majesty gives leave Sir, ye are too violent.

  _CÃ¦sar_. You are too cold to my desires. _ACTUS QUINTUS. SCENA PRIMA._

    _Enter_ CÃ¦sar, Antony, Dolabella.

  _Ant._ The tumult still encreases. _CÃ¦sar_. Stay.

  _Cleo._ I will not.

  _CÃ¦sar_. I command. _Cleo._ Now I am private Sir, I dare speak to ye:
  But thus low first, for as a God I honour ye.

  _Sce._ Lower you'l be anon. _Enter_ Sceva _with a Packet_, Cleopatra _in it._

  _Sce._ Are ye awake Sir?

  _CÃ¦s._ I'th' name of Wonder. _Cleo._ He is no man:
  The shadow of a Greatness hangs upon him,
  And not the vertue: he is no Conquerour, _Cleo._ Stand off: to thee alone,
  I will discover what I dare not trust
  My Sister with, _CÃ¦sar_ is amorous,
The Crown, and sweat of thy _Pharsalian_ labour:
  The goal and mark of high ambitious honour.
  Before thy victory had no name, _CÃ¦sar_, _Pho._ Good day _Achoreus_; my best friend _Achillas_,
  Hath fame deliver'd yet no certain rumour
  Of the great _Roman Action_? 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, _CÃ¦s._ I have heard too much,
  And study not with smooth shews to invade
  My noble Mind as you have done my Conquest. Did he not beat this _Pompey_, and pursu'd him?
  Was not this great man, his great enemy?
  This Godlike vertuous man, as people held him, _Achil._ In _Thessalie_, near the _Pharsalian_ plains
  Where _CÃ¦sar_ with a handfull of his Men To me of _Labienus_: 'tis determin'd
  Already how you shall proceed: nor Fate
  Shall alter it, since now the dye is cast, _Ap._ His army routed: he fled and pursu'd
  By the all-conquering CÃ¦sar.

  _Cleo._ Whither bends he? _Cleo._ He is no man:
  The shadow of a Greatness hangs upon him,
  And not the vertue: he is no Conquerour, _CÃ¦sar._ Oh _Sceva, Sceva_, see that head: see Captains,
  The head of godlike _Pompey_. Is not victorious _CÃ¦sar_ new arriv'd,
  And enter'd _Alexandria_, with his friends,
  His _Navy_ riding by to wait his charges? _Ptol._ I have commanded, and it shall be so,
  A preparation I have set o' foot,
  Worthy the friendship and the fame of _CÃ¦sar_, _CÃ¦sar_. The matchless wealth of this Land!

  _Cleo._ Come, ye shall hear me.

  _CÃ¦sar_. Away: let me imagine. Look upon _CÃ¦sar_, as he still appear'd
  A Conquerour, and this unfortunate King _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. _Pho._ This _CÃ¦sar_ may account a little wicked,
  But yet remember, if thine own hands, Conquerour, _Pho._ Would that were the worst, Sir,
  That will repair it self: but I fear mainly,
  She has made her peace with _CÃ¦sar_. 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 Arm'd in the red _Pharsalian_ fields, _Septimius_,
  Where killing was in grace, and wounds were glorious,
  Where Kings were fair competitours for honour, And in this want will talk a little desperately:
  Here's gold, come share; I love a brave Commander:
  And be not peevish, do as _CÃ¦sar_ does:
_Pho._ Well said _Septimius_,
  Thou now art right again.

  _Achil._ But what course take we
  For the Princess _Cleopatra_? _Enter_ Cleopatra.

  _Ant._ The young Queen comes: give room.

  _CÃ¦sar_. Welcom (my dearest)
  Come bless my side. But _Cleopatra_ in the _Egyptian_ Sphear. _Pho._ I will tame
  That haughty courage, and make thee stoop too.

  _Cleo._ Never,
  I was born to command, and will dye so. _Cleo._ Contemn me not, because I kneel thus, _CÃ¦sar_,
  I am a Queen, and coheir to this country, Cleopatra, _Queen of_ Ãgypt. CÃ¦sar's _Mistris._
  Arsino, Cleopatra's _Sister._
  Eros, Cleopatra's _waiting Woman._ The King without a Partner, in full splendour,
  Thought it convenient the fair _Cleopatra_,
  (An attribute not frequent to the Climate) _Cleo._ Stand off: to thee alone,
  I will discover what I dare not trust
  My Sister with, _CÃ¦sar_ is amorous, The Princess _Cleopatra_ (if I said
  The Queen) _Achillas_ 'twere (I hope) no treason,
  She being by her Fathers Testament Are to delight us: alas, you wash an _Ethiop_:
  Can _Cleopatra_, while she does remember
  Whose Daughter she is, and whose Sister? (O _Cleo._ Be merry Sir,
  My Brother will be proud to do you honour
  That now appears himself.

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Achillas, Photinus, Apollodorus. _Cleo._ Pray you Sir, know me,
  And what I am.

  _CÃ¦sar_. The greater, I more love ye,
  And you must know me too. (That is appointed _Cleopatra_'s Guardian
  As well as _Ptolomies_) will e're approve
  Of this rash counsel, their consent not sought for, _Ap._ To _Egypt_.

  _Cleo._ Ha! in person?

  _Ap._ 'Tis receiv'd
  For an undoubted truth. _Young_ Cleopatra _here, and her great Mind_
  _Expressed to the height, with us a Maid, and free,_
  _And how he rated her Virginitie._ You keep your Sister, (the high-soul'd Cleopatra)
  Both close and short enough, she may not see him;
  The rest, if I may counsel, Sir-- _Cleo._ He is no man:
  The shadow of a Greatness hangs upon him,
  And not the vertue: he is no Conquerour, _Enter_ Cleopatra, Arsino, Eros.

  _Ars._ You are so impatient. _CÃ¦sar_. The matchless wealth of this Land!

  _Cleo._ Come, ye shall hear me.

  _CÃ¦sar_. Away: let me imagine. _Enter_ Sceva.

  _Cleo._ He is my conquest now, and so I'le work him,
  The conquerour of the world will I lead captive.
(Thy Brother dead) shall willingly decree
  The Crown of _Egypt_ (that was his) to thee.  [_Exeunt omnes._ _The Scene_ Ãgypt.



The principal Actors were, Would yield up the dominion of this head
  To any mortal power: so blind and stupid,
  To trust these base _Egyptians_, that proclaim'd Hath found out _Egypt_, by him yet not ruin'd:
  And _Ptolomy_, things consider'd, justly may But claim a priviledge, equal to the Male;
  But how much such divisions have ta'en from
  The Majesty of _Egypt_, and what factions _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. You are young, be provident: fix not your Empire
  Upon the Tomb of him will shake all _Egypt_,
  Whose warlike groans will raise ten thousand Spirits, The government of _Egypt_ and of _Nile_
  To _Cleopatra_, that has title to them,
  At least defend them from the Roman _gripe_, Are wont to be my Orators; turn to tears,
  You wretched and poor seeds of Sun-burnt _Egypt_,
  And now you have found the nature of a Conquerour, _Ach._ Great _Osiris_,
  Defend thy _Ãgypt_ from such cruelty,
  And barbarous ingratitude! Thou awe of Nations, wherefore didst thou fall thus?
  What poor fate follow'd thee, and pluckt thee on
  To trust thy sacred life to an _Egyptian_; _CÃ¦s._ Keep strong Guards, and with wary eyes (my friends)
  There is no trusting to these base _Egyptians_; (That is appointed _Cleopatra_'s Guardian
  As well as _Ptolomies_) will e're approve
  Of this rash counsel, their consent not sought for, Believe me most bountiful; be you most thankful,
  That bounty share amongst ye: if I knew
  What to send you for a present, King of _Egypt_, _Ap._ To _Egypt_.

  _Cleo._ Ha! in person?

  _Ap._ 'Tis receiv'd
  For an undoubted truth. _Dol._ The spawn of _Egypt_ flow about your Palace,
  Arm'd all: and ready to assault. And I will run the hazard; Fire the Palace,
  And the rich Magazines that neighbour it,
  In which the Wealth of _Egypt_ is contain'd: I suffer in the name) and that (in Justice)
  There is no place in _Ãgypt_, where I stand,
  But that the tributary Earth is proud But _Cleopatra_ in the _Egyptian_ Sphear. _Achil._ 'Tis confest
  (My good _Achoreus_) that in these Eastern Kingdoms
  Women are not exempted from the Sceptre,
_Enter_ Cleopatra.

  _Ant._ The young Queen comes: give room.

  _CÃ¦sar_. Welcom (my dearest)
  Come bless my side. _Cleo._ Take this,
  And carry it to that Lordly _CÃ¦sar_ sent thee: _CÃ¦sar._ I do not use to wait, Lady,
  Where I am, all the dores are free, and open.

  _Cleo._ I ghess so, by your rudeness. _Cleo._ Contemn me not, because I kneel thus, _CÃ¦sar_,
  I am a Queen, and coheir to this country, _Enter CÃ¦sar._

  _Ap._ He enters.

  _Cleo._ How? _Cleo._ Stand off: to thee alone,
  I will discover what I dare not trust
  My Sister with, _CÃ¦sar_ is amorous, _Cleo._ So far as modesty,
  And majesty gives leave Sir, ye are too violent.

  _CÃ¦sar_. You are too cold to my desires. _Enter_ Sceva.

  _Cleo._ He is my conquest now, and so I'le work him,
  The conquerour of the world will I lead captive. _CÃ¦sar_. The matchless wealth of this Land!

  _Cleo._ Come, ye shall hear me.

  _CÃ¦sar_. Away: let me imagine. Are to delight us: alas, you wash an _Ethiop_:
  Can _Cleopatra_, while she does remember
  Whose Daughter she is, and whose Sister? (O _Ap._ To _Egypt_.

  _Cleo._ Ha! in person?

  _Ap._ 'Tis receiv'd
  For an undoubted truth. _Enter_ Apollodorus.

  _Ap._ _CÃ¦sar_ commends his Service to your Grace.

  _Cleo._ His service? what's his service? Has broke through all the hopes I have, and ruin'd me:
  My Sister is with _CÃ¦sar_, in his chamber,
  All night she has been with him; and no doubt _Enter_ Sceva _with a Packet_, Cleopatra _in it._

  _Sce._ Are ye awake Sir?

  _CÃ¦s._ I'th' name of Wonder. _Cleo._ Pray you Sir, know me,
  And what I am.

  _CÃ¦sar_. The greater, I more love ye,
  And you must know me too. _CÃ¦sar_. Stay.

  _Cleo._ I will not.

  _CÃ¦sar_. I command. _Cleo._ It is too late; when I have found thee absolute,
  The man that Fame reports thee, and to me,
  May be I shall think better. Farewel Conquerour.  [_Exit._ _Cleo._ Command, and goe without, Sir.
  I do command thee be my slave for ever,
  And vex while I laugh at thee. _Cleo._ How? frown on me?
  The eyes of _CÃ¦sar_ wrapt in storms?

  _CÃ¦sar_. I am sorry:
  But let me think-- _Cleo._ Now I am private Sir, I dare speak to ye:
  But thus low first, for as a God I honour ye.

  _Sce._ Lower you'l be anon.
_Photinus_, and _Achillas_, (the one an Eunuch,
  The other a base bondman) thus raign over me.
  Seize my inheritance, and leave my Brother He was a _Roman_, and the top of Honour;
  And howsoever this might please Great _CÃ¦sar_,
  I told ye that the foulness of his Death, _CÃ¦sar_. O my fortune!
  My lustfull folly rather! but 'tis well,
  And worthily I am made a bondsmans prey, But was his conquest; and he gave thee motion.
  He triumph'd three times, who durst touch his person?
  The very walls of _Rome_ bow'd to his presence, That did induce young _Ptolomy_, or _Photinus_,
  (To whose directions he gives up himself,
  And I hope wisely) to commit his Sister, Did he not beat this _Pompey_, and pursu'd him?
  Was not this great man, his great enemy?
  This Godlike vertuous man, as people held him, _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. _CÃ¦sar._ Oh _Sceva, Sceva_, see that head: see Captains,
  The head of godlike _Pompey_. That never heard thy name sung, but in banquets;
  And loose lascivious pleasures? to a Boy,
  That had no faith to comprehend thy greatness, _Sept._ Stay, _CÃ¦sar_.

  _CÃ¦s._ Who's this? the Dog, _Septimius_?

  _Ant._ Cut his throat. _CÃ¦s._ All is but death, good _Sceva_,
  Be therefore satisfied: and now my dearest, _CÃ¦sar_. The wonder of this wealth so troubles me,
  I am not well: good-night.

  _Sce._ I am glad ye have it:
  Now we shall stir again. Behold that mightiness, behold that fierceness,
  Behold that child of war, with all his glories;
  By this poor hand made breathless, here (my _Achillas_) Than if with Garlands Crown'd, he had been chosen
  To fall a Sacrifice before the altar
  Of the Virgin Huntress: the King, nor great _Photinus_ 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 Dear to the Gods he was, to them that fear'd him
  A fair and noble Enemy. Didst thou hate him?
  And for thy love to _CÃ¦sar_, sought his ruine? _CÃ¦sar_. I'le be my self again, and meet their furies,
  Meet, and consume their mischiefs: make some shift, _Sceva_, _Achil._ 'Tis _Labienus_
  _CÃ¦sars_ Lieutenant in the wars of _Gaul_,
  And fortunate in all his undertakings: _Sce._ A cunning thief, call him _Septimius_, Souldiers,
  The villain that kill'd _Pompey_.

  _All_. How? _Enter_ Septimius.

  _Ant._ What's this fellow?

  _Dol._ Why, a brave fellow, if we judge men by their clothes.
He was a _Roman_, and the top of Honour;
  And howsoever this might please Great _CÃ¦sar_,
  I told ye that the foulness of his Death, _Photinus_, and _Achillas_, (the one an Eunuch,
  The other a base bondman) thus raign over me.
  Seize my inheritance, and leave my Brother _Ars._ My Brother seiz'd on
  By the _Roman_, as thought guilty of the tumult,
  And forc'd to bear him company, as mark'd out
  For his protection or revenge. That did induce young _Ptolomy_, or _Photinus_,
  (To whose directions he gives up himself,
  And I hope wisely) to commit his Sister, (Unless they would be thought Co-partners with you)
  Will leave you to the Law: and then, _Septimius_,
  Remember there are whips. _CÃ¦sar_. O my fortune!
  My lustfull folly rather! but 'tis well,
  And worthily I am made a bondsmans prey, Plac'd there as sacred to the Peace of _Rome_;
  I raz'd _Massilia_, in my wanton anger:
  _Petreius_ and _Afranius_ I defeated: Out of cold blood, and hope of gain, base lucre,
  Slew'st thine own Feeder: come not near the altar,
  Nor with thy reeking hands pollute the Sacrifice, Had fallen upon him, what it had been then?
  If thine own sword had touch'd his throat, what that way!
  He was thy Son in Law, there to be tainted, Than if with Garlands Crown'd, he had been chosen
  To fall a Sacrifice before the altar
  Of the Virgin Huntress: the King, nor great _Photinus_ Employs me as a Property, and grown useless
  Will shake me off again; he told me so
  When I kill'd _Pompey_; nor can I hope better, The life and light of _Rome_, to a blind stranger,
  That honorable war ne'r taught a nobleness,
  Nor worthy circumstance shew'd what a man was, We have offended _CÃ¦sar_, in our wishes,
  And no way left us to redeem his favour
  But by the head of _Pompey_. _Sceva._ He was basely ruin'd,
  But let the Gods be griev'd that suffer'd it,
  And be you CÃ¦sar-- Would serve in their own carkasses for a feast,
  How _CÃ¦sar_ with his Javelin force'd them on
  That made the least stop, when their angry hands Train'd up in Villany, besides that _Cerberus_
  That _Roman_ Dog, that lick'd the blood of _Pompey_. But was his conquest; and he gave thee motion.
  He triumph'd three times, who durst touch his person?
  The very walls of _Rome_ bow'd to his presence, _CÃ¦sar_. Alas thou art rather mad: take thy rest _Sceva_,
  Thy duty makes thee erre, but I forgive thee: Has broke through all the hopes I have, and ruin'd me:
  My Sister is with _CÃ¦sar_, in his chamber,
  All night she has been with him; and no doubt _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.
_Sce._ A cunning thief, call him _Septimius_, Souldiers,
  The villain that kill'd _Pompey_.

  _All_. How? Did he not beat this _Pompey_, and pursu'd him?
  Was not this great man, his great enemy?
  This Godlike vertuous man, as people held him, But that this hour to _Pompey_ is his last.      [_Exit._ Employs me as a Property, and grown useless
  Will shake me off again; he told me so
  When I kill'd _Pompey_; nor can I hope better, _Ant._ Is't not _Septimius_?

  _Sce._ Yes.

  _Dol._ He that kill'd _Pompey_? _CÃ¦sar._ Oh _Sceva, Sceva_, see that head: see Captains,
  The head of godlike _Pompey_. _Pompey_ I overthrew: what did that get me?
  The slubber'd Name of an authoriz'd Enemy.   [_Noise within._ The Nobles, and the Commons lay together,
  And Pontique, Punique, and _Assyrian_ blood
  Made up one crimson Lake: which _Pompey_ seeing, 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, We have offended _CÃ¦sar_, in our wishes,
  And no way left us to redeem his favour
  But by the head of _Pompey_. Thou killd'st great _Pompey_; he'l kill all his kindred,
  And justifie it: nay raise up _Trophies_ to it. Ye are poor and open: I must tell ye roundly,
  That Man that could not recompence the Benefits,
  The great and bounteous services of _Pompey_, _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. The Sons of _Pompey_ are Masters of the Sea,
  And from the reliques of their scatter'd faction,
  A new head's sprung; Say I defeat all these too; _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. _3 Sol._ Come, cry no more: thou hast wep't out twenty _Pompeys_.

    _Enter_ Photinus, Achillas.

  _Pho._ So penitent? But there's a _Rome_, a _Senate_, and a _CÃ¦sar_,
  (Though the great _Pompey_ lean to _Ptolomy_) Since we are sensible this _CÃ¦sar_ loathes us,
  And have begun our fortune with great Pompey,
  Be of my mind. But since these Civil jars he turn'd to _Pompey_,
  And though he followed the better Cause
  Not with the like success. And be right glad of what they seem to weep for,
  There are such kind of Philosophers; now do I wonder
  How he would look if _Pompey_ were alive again,
THE FALSE ONE

A Tragedy

by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher

Edited by Arnold Glover GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE ONE***


E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, William Flis, and the Project
Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team Was fashion'd to be false, wherefore should I
  That kill'd my General, and a _Roman_, one
  To whom I ow'd all nourishments of life, Fie, how it choaks! too little of your loyaltie,
  Your honesty, your faith, that are pure Ambers;
  I smell the rotten smell of a hired Coward, _Sce._ You are cozen'd,
  There be of us as be of all other Nations,
  Villains, and Knaves; 'tis not the name contains him, Rude valors, so I let 'em pass; rude honours:
  There is a wench yet, that I know, affects me
  And company for a King: a young plump villain, 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 _Out of their Stories, that have oft been nam'd_
  _With glory on the Stage; what borrows he_
  _From him that wrote old_ Priam's _Tragedy,_ _Cleo._ Shew him a glass; that false face has betrai'd me:
  That base heart wrought me-- _Sept._ I am an altered man, altered indeed,
  And will give you cause to say I am a _Roman_.

  _Dol._ Rogue, I grant thee. Have flung the name of happy _CÃ¦sar_ on him,
  Himself ne're won it: he is so base and covetous,
  He'l sell his sword for gold. H'as suffer'd under the base dross of Nature:
  Poorly delivered up his power to wealth,
  (The god of bed-rid men) taught his eyes treason He may recover, thy part not engag'd
  Though one most dear, when all his hopes are dead,
  To drown him, set thy foot upon his head. Of his descent to Hell; where shall I hide me?
  The greatest daring to a man dishonest,
  Is but a Bastard Courage, ever fainting.           [_Exit._ As it is in my power, redeem my credit,
  And live to lye and swear again in fashion,
  Oh, 'twere a master-piece! ha!--me _CÃ¦sar_, _Sce._ If thou bee'st thus loving, I shall honour thee,
  But great men may dissemble, 'tis held possible, _All_. Was never such a man.

  _1 Sold._ Dear honour'd Sir,
  Let us but know your name, that we may worship ye. _CÃ¦sar_. These lips be witness,
  And if I break that oath--

  _Cleo._ You make me blush Sir,
  And in that blush interpret me. _Sce._ Nay, I am a Porter,
  A strong one too, or else my sides would crack, Sir,
  And my sins were as weighty, I should scarce walk with 'em. I was lov'd once for swearing, and for drinking,
  And for other principal Qualities that became me,
  Now a foolish unthankful Murther has undone me,
GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE ONE***


E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, William Flis, and the Project
Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team THE FALSE ONE

A Tragedy

by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher

Edited by Arnold Glover H'as suffer'd under the base dross of Nature:
  Poorly delivered up his power to wealth,
  (The god of bed-rid men) taught his eyes treason Fie, how it choaks! too little of your loyaltie,
  Your honesty, your faith, that are pure Ambers;
  I smell the rotten smell of a hired Coward, Upon the wealthy Quarry: how round it mark'd it:
  I observ'd his words, and to what it tended;
  How greedily he ask'd from whence it came, And, as ye had been sold to sordid infamy,
  You fell before the Images of treasure,
  And in your soul you worship'd: I stood slighted, Appear'd your _Mistress_; took into your eyes
  The common-strumpet love of hated lucre,
  Courted with covetous heart, the slave of nature, Was fashion'd to be false, wherefore should I
  That kill'd my General, and a _Roman_, one
  To whom I ow'd all nourishments of life, He has flung away, and goes like one of us now:
  Walks with his hands in's pockets, poor and sorrowfull,
  And gives the best instructions.-- There's a new Love, a handsom one, a rich one:
  One that will hug his mind: bid him make love to it:
  Tell the ambitious Broker, this will suffer-- _Cleo._ Shew him a glass; that false face has betrai'd me:
  That base heart wrought me-- Carries her Litter to lye soft, do you see that?
  Invites ye like a Gamester: note that impudence,
  For shame reflect upon your self, your honour, _Sept._ I am trusted
  With all _Photinus's_ secrets.

  _Ant._ There's no doubt then
  Thou wilt be false. You that have _Roman_ hearts, take heed of falsehood:
  Take heed of blood; take heed of foul ingratitude.
  The Gods have scarce a mercy for those mischiefs, But was his conquest; and he gave thee motion.
  He triumph'd three times, who durst touch his person?
  The very walls of _Rome_ bow'd to his presence, A thing thy Mother brought into the World;
  My Brother's and my Slave: but thy behaviour,
  Oppos'd to that, an insolent intruder At these years do you learn to be fantastical?
  After so many bloody fields, a Fool?
  She brings her Bed along too, she'll lose no time, _Sce._ Yes, he has a _Roman_ face, he has been at fair wars
  And plenteous too, and rich, his Trappings shew it. _1 Sold._ I heard he was altered,
  And had given away his Gold to honest uses:
  Cry'd monstrously. Here they take life: here they inherit honour,
  Grow fixt, and shoot up everlasting triumphs:
  Take it, and look upon thy humble servant,
Fie, how it choaks! too little of your loyaltie,
  Your honesty, your faith, that are pure Ambers;
  I smell the rotten smell of a hired Coward, _We of our doubts, they of their fears are eas'd._
  _I would beg further (Gentlemen) and much say_
  _In favour of our selves, them, and the Play;_ Rude valors, so I let 'em pass; rude honours:
  There is a wench yet, that I know, affects me
  And company for a King: a young plump villain, _Sce._ You are cozen'd,
  There be of us as be of all other Nations,
  Villains, and Knaves; 'tis not the name contains him, They stink, they stink, alas poor things, contemptible.
  By all the Gods in _Egypt_, the perfumes
  That went to trimming these cloathes, cost me-- They'll give her that she came for, and dispatch her;
  Be loyal to your self. Thou damned Woman,
  Dost thou come hither with thy flourishes, I had rather touch the plague, than one unworthy:
  Goe seek some Mistris that a horse may marry,
  And keep her company, she is too good for ye.   [_Exit._ All in one half hour, to make an asse of him:
  I make no doubt she will be drunk too damnably,
  And in her drink will fight, then she fits him. _Sce._ Thou stinkest still.

  _Sep._ The powdering of this head too-- I hear their Trumpets, 'tis too late to stagger,
  Give me the head, and be you confident:
  Hail Conquerour, and head of all the world,
  Now this head's off. 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 _Pho._ Holy trifles,
  And not to have place in designs of State;
  This sword, which Fate commands me to unsheath, (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, At these years do you learn to be fantastical?
  After so many bloody fields, a Fool?
  She brings her Bed along too, she'll lose no time, He may recover, thy part not engag'd
  Though one most dear, when all his hopes are dead,
  To drown him, set thy foot upon his head. _Ant._ I would he could abstain.

  _Sce._ She is a witch sure,
  And works upon him with some damn'd inchantment. _Enter_ Sceva _with a Packet_, Cleopatra _in it._

  _Sce._ Are ye awake Sir?

  _CÃ¦s._ I'th' name of Wonder. _1 Sol._ The pleasure _CÃ¦sar_ sleeps in, makes us miserable,
  We are forgot, our maims and dangers laugh'd at;
  He Banquets, and we beg. It sits cold here; what are these? three poor Souldiers?
  Both poor and lame: their misery may make 'em
  A little look upon me, and adore me,
  If these will keep me company, I am made yet. _Achil._ 'Tis a strange impudence,
  This fellow does put on.

  _Ach._ The wonder great,
  He is accepted of.
A dismal Vault, whose dreadful mouth does open
  A mile beyond the City: in this Cave
  Lye but two hours conceal'd. At the devotion of her Brother, whom
  She only knows her equal, makes this place
  In which she lives (though stor'd with all delights) Here they take life: here they inherit honour,
  Grow fixt, and shoot up everlasting triumphs:
  Take it, and look upon thy humble servant, Again we follow'd; but got near the Sea;
  On which his Navy anchor'd; in one hand
  Holding a Scroll he had above the waves, Where thou canst meet with nothing but thy conscience,
  And that in all the shapes of all thy vill[anie]s
  Attend thee still, where bruit Beasts will abhor thee, In _Germany_, and _Gaul_, and _Britanny_
  When every night with pleasure I set down
  What the day ministred! The sleep came sweetly: It sits cold here; what are these? three poor Souldiers?
  Both poor and lame: their misery may make 'em
  A little look upon me, and adore me,
  If these will keep me company, I am made yet. I come home crown'd an honourable Rebel.
  I hear the Noise still, and it still comes nearer;
  Are the Guards fast? Who waits there? Nor labour'd through no showres of darts, and lances:
  Yet here he found a fort, that faced him strongly,
  An inward war: he was his Grand-sires Guest; 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 At these years do you learn to be fantastical?
  After so many bloody fields, a Fool?
  She brings her Bed along too, she'll lose no time, 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_, He has flung away, and goes like one of us now:
  Walks with his hands in's pockets, poor and sorrowfull,
  And gives the best instructions.-- As though I were a Rascal, no man knows me,
  No Eye looks after; as I were a Plague
  Their doors shut close against me; and I wondred at _Sep._ I'le cloth ye,
  Ye are lame, and then provide good lodging for ye:
  And at my Table, where no want shall meet ye.

    _Enter_ Sceva. PROLOGUE. Carries her Litter to lye soft, do you see that?
  Invites ye like a Gamester: note that impudence,
  For shame reflect upon your self, your honour, _Pho._ Thou lov'st me and I thank thee.    [_Exeunt._



SCENA II. _All things take life; and all things grow._
    _A thousand wealthy Treasures still,_
    _To do him service at his will_
    _Follow his rising Flood, and pour_ 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
(That is appointed _Cleopatra_'s Guardian
  As well as _Ptolomies_) will e're approve
  Of this rash counsel, their consent not sought for, That did induce young _Ptolomy_, or _Photinus_,
  (To whose directions he gives up himself,
  And I hope wisely) to commit his Sister, _Pho._ Well said _Septimius_,
  Thou now art right again.

  _Achil._ But what course take we
  For the Princess _Cleopatra_? _Ap._ His army routed: he fled and pursu'd
  By the all-conquering CÃ¦sar.

  _Cleo._ Whither bends he? You keep your Sister, (the high-soul'd Cleopatra)
  Both close and short enough, she may not see him;
  The rest, if I may counsel, Sir-- [_Exit._

  _Sep._ The King will yet consider.

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus. _Cleo._ Be merry Sir,
  My Brother will be proud to do you honour
  That now appears himself.

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Achillas, Photinus, Apollodorus. SCENA III.

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus, Achillas. _CÃ¦sar_. He comes: and I
  Shall do as I find cause.

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus. Worthy the honour that he justly holds
  In being Priest to _Isis_: But alas,
  What in a man, sequester'd from the world, _Ptol._ Curse on you all, ye are wretches.

  _Pho._ 'Twas providently done, _Achillas_.

  _Achil._ Pardon me. _Pho._ Do not shun me, _CÃ¦sar_,
  From kingly _Ptolomy_ I bring this present, Offer'd him his protection, but _Pompey_
  Relying on his Benefits, and your Faith,
  Hath chosen _Ãgypt_ for his Sanctuary, _Cleo._ Stand off: to thee alone,
  I will discover what I dare not trust
  My Sister with, _CÃ¦sar_ is amorous, The Princess _Cleopatra_ (if I said
  The Queen) _Achillas_ 'twere (I hope) no treason,
  She being by her Fathers Testament But _Cleopatra_ in the _Egyptian_ Sphear. _CÃ¦sar_. The matchless wealth of this Land!

  _Cleo._ Come, ye shall hear me.

  _CÃ¦sar_. Away: let me imagine. SCENE IV.

    _Enter (severally)_ Arsino, Eros, Cleopatra.

  _Ars._ We are lost. Achoreus, _an honest Counsellor, Priest of_ Isis.
  Photinus, _a Politician, minion to_ Ptolomy. _ACTUS QUARTUS. SCENA PRIMA._

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Photinus, Achillas, Achoreus.
_Cleo._ Take this,
  And carry it to that Lordly _CÃ¦sar_ sent thee: _Cleo._ It is too late; when I have found thee absolute,
  The man that Fame reports thee, and to me,
  May be I shall think better. Farewel Conquerour.  [_Exit._ _Enter_ Cleopatra.

  _Ant._ The young Queen comes: give room.

  _CÃ¦sar_. Welcom (my dearest)
  Come bless my side. Are to delight us: alas, you wash an _Ethiop_:
  Can _Cleopatra_, while she does remember
  Whose Daughter she is, and whose Sister? (O _Ap._ To _Egypt_.

  _Cleo._ Ha! in person?

  _Ap._ 'Tis receiv'd
  For an undoubted truth. _Cleo._ Stand off: to thee alone,
  I will discover what I dare not trust
  My Sister with, _CÃ¦sar_ is amorous, _Enter_ Sceva _with a Packet_, Cleopatra _in it._

  _Sce._ Are ye awake Sir?

  _CÃ¦s._ I'th' name of Wonder. They'll give her that she came for, and dispatch her;
  Be loyal to your self. Thou damned Woman,
  Dost thou come hither with thy flourishes, _Pho._ Well said _Septimius_,
  Thou now art right again.

  _Achil._ But what course take we
  For the Princess _Cleopatra_? _Enter_ Sceva.

  _Cleo._ He is my conquest now, and so I'le work him,
  The conquerour of the world will I lead captive. But _Cleopatra_ in the _Egyptian_ Sphear. You keep your Sister, (the high-soul'd Cleopatra)
  Both close and short enough, she may not see him;
  The rest, if I may counsel, Sir-- _Cleo._ Command, and goe without, Sir.
  I do command thee be my slave for ever,
  And vex while I laugh at thee. _Cleo._ To prevent thee,
  In that I am the Mistress of my Fate;
  So hope I of my sister to confirm it.
  I spit at thee, and scorn thee. _Cleo._ Weep not, _Arsino_, common women do so,
  Nor lose a tear for him, it cannot help him;
  But study to dye nobly. _Cleo._  Well,
  I shall yet find a time to tell thee _CÃ¦sar_,
  Thou hast wrong'd her Love: the rest here. Has broke through all the hopes I have, and ruin'd me:
  My Sister is with _CÃ¦sar_, in his chamber,
  All night she has been with him; and no doubt _Cleo._ Contemn me not, because I kneel thus, _CÃ¦sar_,
  I am a Queen, and coheir to this country, _Pho._ Would that were the worst, Sir,
  That will repair it self: but I fear mainly,
  She has made her peace with _CÃ¦sar_. _Enter_ Cleopatra.
_CÃ¦sar._ Oh _Sceva, Sceva_, see that head: see Captains,
  The head of godlike _Pompey_. Did he not beat this _Pompey_, and pursu'd him?
  Was not this great man, his great enemy?
  This Godlike vertuous man, as people held him, _Sce._ A cunning thief, call him _Septimius_, Souldiers,
  The villain that kill'd _Pompey_.

  _All_. How? Thou killd'st great _Pompey_; he'l kill all his kindred,
  And justifie it: nay raise up _Trophies_ to it. We have offended _CÃ¦sar_, in our wishes,
  And no way left us to redeem his favour
  But by the head of _Pompey_. _CÃ¦s._ Good, what follows?

  _Sept._ Fall me fairly on their throats,
  Their heads cut off and shorn, the multitude
  Will easily disperse. Employs me as a Property, and grown useless
  Will shake me off again; he told me so
  When I kill'd _Pompey_; nor can I hope better, _Ant._ Is't not _Septimius_?

  _Sce._ Yes.

  _Dol._ He that kill'd _Pompey_? The Nobles, and the Commons lay together,
  And Pontique, Punique, and _Assyrian_ blood
  Made up one crimson Lake: which _Pompey_ seeing, He was a _Roman_, and the top of Honour;
  And howsoever this might please Great _CÃ¦sar_,
  I told ye that the foulness of his Death, _Sce._ Furies plague 'em,
  They had too fair an end to dye like Souldiers,
  _Pompey_ fell by the Sword, the Cross or Halter
  Should have dispatch'd them. Till _Nilus_ raise his seven heads and devour ye;
  My grief has stopt the rest: when _Pompey_ liv'd The Sons of _Pompey_ are Masters of the Sea,
  And from the reliques of their scatter'd faction,
  A new head's sprung; Say I defeat all these too; But that this hour to _Pompey_ is his last.      [_Exit._ 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_, I hear their Trumpets, 'tis too late to stagger,
  Give me the head, and be you confident:
  Hail Conquerour, and head of all the world,
  Now this head's off. _Pho._ You have done well; and 'tis done, see _Achillas_,
  And in his hand the head. _Pompey_ I overthrew: what did that get me?
  The slubber'd Name of an authoriz'd Enemy.   [_Noise within._ _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. 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_,
Did he not beat this _Pompey_, and pursu'd him?
  Was not this great man, his great enemy?
  This Godlike vertuous man, as people held him, _Sce._ A cunning thief, call him _Septimius_, Souldiers,
  The villain that kill'd _Pompey_.

  _All_. How? But that this hour to _Pompey_ is his last.      [_Exit._ Employs me as a Property, and grown useless
  Will shake me off again; he told me so
  When I kill'd _Pompey_; nor can I hope better, _CÃ¦sar._ Oh _Sceva, Sceva_, see that head: see Captains,
  The head of godlike _Pompey_. 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, _Pompey_ I overthrew: what did that get me?
  The slubber'd Name of an authoriz'd Enemy.   [_Noise within._ But there's a _Rome_, a _Senate_, and a _CÃ¦sar_,
  (Though the great _Pompey_ lean to _Ptolomy_) _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. Ye are poor and open: I must tell ye roundly,
  That Man that could not recompence the Benefits,
  The great and bounteous services of _Pompey_, _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. _Ant._ Is't not _Septimius_?

  _Sce._ Yes.

  _Dol._ He that kill'd _Pompey_? The Nobles, and the Commons lay together,
  And Pontique, Punique, and _Assyrian_ blood
  Made up one crimson Lake: which _Pompey_ seeing, We have offended _CÃ¦sar_, in our wishes,
  And no way left us to redeem his favour
  But by the head of _Pompey_. The Sons of _Pompey_ are Masters of the Sea,
  And from the reliques of their scatter'd faction,
  A new head's sprung; Say I defeat all these too; _Ant._ Dar'st thou speak, and remember
  There was a _Pompey_? Thou killd'st great _Pompey_; he'l kill all his kindred,
  And justifie it: nay raise up _Trophies_ to it. _3 Sol._ Come, cry no more: thou hast wep't out twenty _Pompeys_.

    _Enter_ Photinus, Achillas.

  _Pho._ So penitent? 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_, What was not _Pompeys_, while the wars endured,
  The Conquerour will not challenge; by all the world
  Forsaken and despis'd, your gentle Guardian
SCENE III.

    _Enter_ Septimius. _Sept._ Stay, _CÃ¦sar_.

  _CÃ¦s._ Who's this? the Dog, _Septimius_?

  _Ant._ Cut his throat. _Enter_ Septimius. _Enter_ Septimius.

  _1 Sold._ He spares us that labour,
  For here he comes. _Ant._ Is't not _Septimius_?

  _Sce._ Yes.

  _Dol._ He that kill'd _Pompey_? _Enter_ Septimius.

  _Ant._ What's this fellow?

  _Dol._ Why, a brave fellow, if we judge men by their clothes. _Sept_. May it please your Lordship?

  _Pho._ O _Septimius_!

  _Sept._ Your [Lordship] knows my wrongs. _Sce._ A cunning thief, call him _Septimius_, Souldiers,
  The villain that kill'd _Pompey_.

  _All_. How? _Achil._ It is not that: it may be some disgrace
  That he takes heavily; and would be cherish'd,
  _Septimius_ ever scorn'd to shew such weakness. _Ach._ No _Septimius_,
  To be a _Roman_ were an honour to you,
  Did not your manners, and your life take from it, _ACTUS SECUNDUS. SCENA PRIMA._

    _Enter_ Septimius, _with a head_, Achillas, _Guard._ Arm'd in the red _Pharsalian_ fields, _Septimius_,
  Where killing was in grace, and wounds were glorious,
  Where Kings were fair competitours for honour, _Sept._ I am an altered man, altered indeed,
  And will give you cause to say I am a _Roman_.

  _Dol._ Rogue, I grant thee. _Ach._ Peace _Septimius_,
  Thy words sound more ungratefull than thy actions,
  Though sometimes safety seek an instrument (Unless they would be thought Co-partners with you)
  Will leave you to the Law: and then, _Septimius_,
  Remember there are whips. _Pho._ One thing I charge thee, see me no more, _Septimius_,
  Unless I send.                              [_Exit._ _Sept._  Thus, _CÃ¦sar_,
  To me alone, but bound by terrible oaths
  Not to discover it, he hath reveal'd _Sept._ And that the Ghosts of all those noble _Romans_
  That by thy Sword fell in this Civil War
  Expect revenge. _A[c]h._ What is the subject?
  Be free _Septimius_. _Pho._ When _Pompey_ was thy General, _Septimius_,
  Thou saidst as much to him.
_Enter_ Septimius. _Enter_ Septimius.

  _1 Sold._ He spares us that labour,
  For here he comes. SCENE III.

    _Enter_ Septimius. _Sept._ Stay, _CÃ¦sar_.

  _CÃ¦s._ Who's this? the Dog, _Septimius_?

  _Ant._ Cut his throat. _Ant._ Is't not _Septimius_?

  _Sce._ Yes.

  _Dol._ He that kill'd _Pompey_? _Enter_ Septimius.

  _Ant._ What's this fellow?

  _Dol._ Why, a brave fellow, if we judge men by their clothes. _Sce._ A cunning thief, call him _Septimius_, Souldiers,
  The villain that kill'd _Pompey_.

  _All_. How? _Pho._ When _Pompey_ was thy General, _Septimius_,
  Thou saidst as much to him. _Ach._ No _Septimius_,
  To be a _Roman_ were an honour to you,
  Did not your manners, and your life take from it, _Sept_. May it please your Lordship?

  _Pho._ O _Septimius_!

  _Sept._ Your [Lordship] knows my wrongs. Arm'd in the red _Pharsalian_ fields, _Septimius_,
  Where killing was in grace, and wounds were glorious,
  Where Kings were fair competitours for honour, _Achil._ It is not that: it may be some disgrace
  That he takes heavily; and would be cherish'd,
  _Septimius_ ever scorn'd to shew such weakness. _ACTUS SECUNDUS. SCENA PRIMA._

    _Enter_ Septimius, _with a head_, Achillas, _Guard._ _Sept._ I am an altered man, altered indeed,
  And will give you cause to say I am a _Roman_.

  _Dol._ Rogue, I grant thee. (Unless they would be thought Co-partners with you)
  Will leave you to the Law: and then, _Septimius_,
  Remember there are whips. _Ach._ Peace _Septimius_,
  Thy words sound more ungratefull than thy actions,
  Though sometimes safety seek an instrument _Achil._ Thou shalt have all:
  And do all through thy power, men shall admire thee,
  And the vices of _Septimius_ shall turn vertues. _3 Sold._ And I too: look'd upon him, and observ'd it,
  He's the strangest _Septimus_ now-- _Sept._  Thus, _CÃ¦sar_,
  To me alone, but bound by terrible oaths
  Not to discover it, he hath reveal'd _A[c]h._ What is the subject?
  Be free _Septimius_.
_Cleo._ Take this,
  And carry it to that Lordly _CÃ¦sar_ sent thee: _Enter_ Cleopatra.

  _Ant._ The young Queen comes: give room.

  _CÃ¦sar_. Welcom (my dearest)
  Come bless my side. _Enter CÃ¦sar._

  _Ap._ He enters.

  _Cleo._ How? _Enter_ Sceva _with a Packet_, Cleopatra _in it._

  _Sce._ Are ye awake Sir?

  _CÃ¦s._ I'th' name of Wonder. _Cleo._ Stand off: to thee alone,
  I will discover what I dare not trust
  My Sister with, _CÃ¦sar_ is amorous, _CÃ¦sar._ I do not use to wait, Lady,
  Where I am, all the dores are free, and open.

  _Cleo._ I ghess so, by your rudeness. _Ap._ To _Egypt_.

  _Cleo._ Ha! in person?

  _Ap._ 'Tis receiv'd
  For an undoubted truth. _Cleo._ Contemn me not, because I kneel thus, _CÃ¦sar_,
  I am a Queen, and coheir to this country, _Enter_ Sceva.

  _Cleo._ He is my conquest now, and so I'le work him,
  The conquerour of the world will I lead captive. _CÃ¦sar_. The matchless wealth of this Land!

  _Cleo._ Come, ye shall hear me.

  _CÃ¦sar_. Away: let me imagine. _Enter_ Cleopatra. _Enter_ Apollodorus.

  _Ap._ _CÃ¦sar_ commends his Service to your Grace.

  _Cleo._ His service? what's his service? _Cleo._ So far as modesty,
  And majesty gives leave Sir, ye are too violent.

  _CÃ¦sar_. You are too cold to my desires. _Cleo._ It is too late; when I have found thee absolute,
  The man that Fame reports thee, and to me,
  May be I shall think better. Farewel Conquerour.  [_Exit._ The King without a Partner, in full splendour,
  Thought it convenient the fair _Cleopatra_,
  (An attribute not frequent to the Climate) _CÃ¦sar_. He comes: and I
  Shall do as I find cause.

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus. Has broke through all the hopes I have, and ruin'd me:
  My Sister is with _CÃ¦sar_, in his chamber,
  All night she has been with him; and no doubt _Cleo._ How? frown on me?
  The eyes of _CÃ¦sar_ wrapt in storms?

  _CÃ¦sar_. I am sorry:
  But let me think-- Are to delight us: alas, you wash an _Ethiop_:
  Can _Cleopatra_, while she does remember
  Whose Daughter she is, and whose Sister? (O _Cleo._ Be merry Sir,
  My Brother will be proud to do you honour
  That now appears himself.

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Achillas, Photinus, Apollodorus.
_Achil._ The deed is bloody
  If we conclude in _Ptolomies_ death.

  _Pho._ The better,
  The globe of Empire must be so manur'd. Hath found out _Egypt_, by him yet not ruin'd:
  And _Ptolomy_, things consider'd, justly may _Ptol._ We give up
  Our absolute power to thee: dispose of it
  As reason shall direct thee. That did induce young _Ptolomy_, or _Photinus_,
  (To whose directions he gives up himself,
  And I hope wisely) to commit his Sister, _Enter_ Achillas, _and Souldiers, with the Body of_ Ptolomy.

  _Pho._ The King dead? this is a fair entrance to
  Our future happiness. _Ptol._ Curse on you all, ye are wretches.

  _Pho._ 'Twas providently done, _Achillas_.

  _Achil._ Pardon me. Thou awe of Nations, wherefore didst thou fall thus?
  What poor fate follow'd thee, and pluckt thee on
  To trust thy sacred life to an _Egyptian_; _Ptol._ Stay come no nearer,
  Me thinks I feel the very earth shake under me,
  I do remember him, he was my guardian, Upon that Soveraignty thou shouldst bow to.
  If in the Gulph of base ingratitude,
  All loyalty to _Ptolomy_ the King Julius CÃ¦sar, _Emperour of_ Rome.
  Ptolomy, _King of_ Ãgypt. _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. Are wont to be my Orators; turn to tears,
  You wretched and poor seeds of Sun-burnt _Egypt_,
  And now you have found the nature of a Conquerour, Till he may recollect his scattered powers,
  And try a second day: now _Ptolomy_,
  Though he appear not like that glorious thing _Achil._ What eye
  Will look upon King _Ptolomy_? if they do look,
  It must be in scorn: _ACTUS QUARTUS. SCENA PRIMA._

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Photinus, Achillas, Achoreus. _CÃ¦sar_. He comes: and I
  Shall do as I find cause.

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus. _Lab._ May the gods
  (As you intend) protect you.           [_Exit._

  _Ptol._ Sit: sit all,
  It is my pleasure: your advice, and freely. [_Exit._

  _Sep._ The King will yet consider.

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus. That did possess 'em: _CÃ¦sar, Ptolomy_,
  (Now I am steel'd) to me are empty names
  Esteem'd as _Pompeys_ was. _Ptol._ Do all;
  For in thy faithful service rests my safety.    [_Exeunt._



SCENE II.
(Thy Brother dead) shall willingly decree
  The Crown of _Egypt_ (that was his) to thee.  [_Exeunt omnes._ _Cleo._ Be merry Sir,
  My Brother will be proud to do you honour
  That now appears himself.

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Achillas, Photinus, Apollodorus. _Enter_ Achillas, _and Souldiers, with the Body of_ Ptolomy.

  _Pho._ The King dead? this is a fair entrance to
  Our future happiness. (That is appointed _Cleopatra_'s Guardian
  As well as _Ptolomies_) will e're approve
  Of this rash counsel, their consent not sought for, _CÃ¦sar_. He comes: and I
  Shall do as I find cause.

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus. _Achil._ The deed is bloody
  If we conclude in _Ptolomies_ death.

  _Pho._ The better,
  The globe of Empire must be so manur'd. Hath found out _Egypt_, by him yet not ruin'd:
  And _Ptolomy_, things consider'd, justly may [_Exit._

  _Sep._ The King will yet consider.

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus. _Cleo._ Weep not, _Arsino_, common women do so,
  Nor lose a tear for him, it cannot help him;
  But study to dye nobly. _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. _Pho._ Well said _Septimius_,
  Thou now art right again.

  _Achil._ But what course take we
  For the Princess _Cleopatra_? Would yield up the dominion of this head
  To any mortal power: so blind and stupid,
  To trust these base _Egyptians_, that proclaim'd _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, _ACTUS QUARTUS. SCENA PRIMA._

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Photinus, Achillas, Achoreus. _Pho._ Now thou singst sweetly:
  And _Ptolomy_ shall crown thee for thy service. Are wont to be my Orators; turn to tears,
  You wretched and poor seeds of Sun-burnt _Egypt_,
  And now you have found the nature of a Conquerour, SCENA III.

    _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus, Achillas. _Cleo._ It is too late; when I have found thee absolute,
  The man that Fame reports thee, and to me,
  May be I shall think better. Farewel Conquerour.  [_Exit._ But _Cleopatra_ in the _Egyptian_ Sphear. _Achil._ What eye
  Will look upon King _Ptolomy_? if they do look,
  It must be in scorn:
At the beginning of the story, who was the ruler of the kingdom? Who was the Roman officer that betrayed Pompey the Great? How did Sir Walter Raleigh die? Who has been suggested for the model for Septimius? Why might Septimius be perceived as a wreak prop on which to mount drama? What other play was influenced by Shakespeare's Antony Amber Cleopatra? How does material in The False One differ from that in Antony and Cleopatra? Who was placed in sole position of the crown after the downfall of Ptolemy XIII? Where is the play Antony and Cleopatra set? As of 48 BC what battle has not occured yet? Who is Cleopatra to Pharaoh Ptolemy XIII? Who rules Egypt during this time? How does Cleopatra deliver herself to Caesar? Who was Lucius? What was Lucius responsible for?  Pompey represents who in this interpretation? What Shakespeare work most influenced The False One? The False One is dominated by what kind of material? What keeps the play from cohering into an effective dramatic whole? What is the setting?  Who did Pharoah Ptolemy XIII sequester?  Who does Cleopatra have herself delivered to?  Who decapitated Pompey the Great?  Who does Pompey represent?  Who does Septimius represent?  What was the portrayal of Septimius modeled on?  How is Cleopatra delivered to Caesar?  Who deposed of Ptolemy? Who is in sole possession of the Egyptian crown after Ptolemy's death? 
Pharaoh Ptolemy XIII Pharaoh Ptulemy XIII
Lucius Septimius  Lucius Septimius
Execution Executed
Shakespeare's Enobarbus Shakespeare's Enobarbus
He lacks redeeming or sympathetic qualities. Because he is portrayed as one who lacks redeem and sympathy.
The False One The False One
It's more political.  It has more political material.
Cleopatra Cleopatra
Egypt Egypt
The Battle Of Pharsalia has not occured yet.  Battle of Pharsalia
She is is sister, wife and queen.  A sister, wife, and queen.
Pharaoh Ptolemy XIII rules Egypt.  Ptolemy XIII
She does so enclosed in a "packet." Enclosed in a packet
He was a Roman officer.  A Roman Officer
He was responsible for betraying, murdering and decapitating Pompey the Great. The murder of Pompey
He represents Sir Walter Raleigh.  Sir Walter Raleigh
Antony and Cleopatra influence The False One heavily.  Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra
It is dominated by political material.  Political
The split focus between Cleopatra, Ceasar and Septimus.  The split in the play's focus among the characters. 
Egypt in 48 BC Egypt
Cleopatra Cleopatra
Ceasar Caesar
Lucius Septimius Lucius Septimius
Sir Walter Raleigh Sir Walter Raleigh
Sir Lewis Stukeley Sir Lewis Stukeley
Shakespeare's Enobarbus Sir Lewis Stukeley
In a packet Enclosed in a "packet"
Caesar Caesar
Cleopatra Cleopatra