PROCULEIUS

My Lord, what time being sent from you to try, To win her forth alive, (if that I might) From out the Monument, where woefully She lives enclosed in most afflicted plighted; No way I found, no means how to surprise her, But through a Grate at entry of the place, Standing to treat, I laboured to advise her, To come to Caesar, and to sue for grace. She said, she craved not life, but leave to die, Yet for her children, prayed they might inherit, That Caesar would vouchsafe (in clemency,) To pity them, though she deserved no merit. So leaving her for then; and since of late, With Gallus sent to try another time, The while he entertains her at the grate, I found the means up to the Tomb to climb. Where in descending in the closest wise, And silent manner as I could contrive: Her woman me descried, and out she cries, Poor Cleopatra, thou art taken alive. With that the Queen reached from ̄ her side her knift, And even in act to slab her martyred breast, I stepped with speed, and held, and saved her life, And forth her trembling hand the blade did wrest. Ah Cleopatra, why should'is thou (said I,) Both injury thy self and Caesar so? Bar him the honour of his victory, Who ever deals most mildly with his foe? Live and rely on him, whose mercy will To thy submission always ready be. With that (as all amazed) she held her still, Betwixt majesty confused and misery. Her proud grieved eyes, held sorrow and disdain, State and distress warring within her soul: Dying ambition dispossessed her reign, So base affliction seemed to control. Like as a burning Lamp, whose liquour spent With intermitted flames, when dead you deem it, Sends forth a dying flash, as discontent, That so the matter fails that should redeem it. So she (in spite) to see her low-brought state, (When all her Hope's were now consumed to nought,) Scorns yet to make and abject league with Fate, Or once descend into a servile thought. Th'imperious tongue unused to beseech, Authority confounds with prayers, so Words of command conjoined wish humble speech, Showed she would live, yet scorned to pray her foe. Ah, what hath Caesar here to do, said she, In confines of the dead in darkness living? Will he not grant our Sepulchers be free, But violate the privilege of dying? What, must he stretch forth his ambitious hand Into the right of Death, and force us here? Hath misery no covert where to stand Free from the storm of pride, is't safe no where? Cannot my land, my gold, my Crown suffice, And all what I held deer, to him made common, But that he must in this sort tyrannise, Afflicted body of and woeful woman? Tell him, my frailty, and the Gods have given, Sufficient glory, if he could content him: And let him now with his desires make even, And leave me to this horror, to lamenting. Now he hath taken all away from me, What must he take me from my self by force? Ah, let him yet (in mercy) leave me free The kingdom of this poor distressed corpse. No other crown I seek, no other good. Yet wish that Caesar would vouchsafe this grace, To favour the poor offspring of my blood. Confused issue, yet of Roman raze. If blood and name be links of love in Princes, Not spurs of hate; my poor Caesario may Find favour notwithstanding mine offences, And Caesars blood, may Caesars raging stay. But if that with the torrent of my fallen, All must be rapt with furious violence, And no respect, nor no regard at all, Can ought with nature or with blood dispense: Then be it so, if needs it must be so. There stays and shrinks in horror of her state. When I began to mitigate her woe, And thy great mercies unto her relate; Wishing her not despair, but rather come And sue for grace, and shake off all vain fears: No doubt she should obtain as gentle doom As she desired, both for herself and hers. And so with much ado, (well pacified Seeming to be,) she showed content to live, Saying she was resolved thy doom abide, And to accept what favour thou wouldst give. And herewithal, craved also that she might Perform her last rites to her lost beloved. To sacrifice to him that wrought her plighted: And that she might not be by force removed. I granting from thy partly this her request, Left her for then, seeming in better rest. I think, and do assure my self she will. Why, 'tis her safety for to yield to thee. She may thereby procure her children's good. Can Princes pour dispense with nature than? There's none but have in time persuaded been. Diverse respects will force her be reclaimed.