like a slumber if you tearme it so A dulnes that disposeth vs to rest Gan close the windowes of my watchfull eyes Already tyerd and loaden with my teares And loe me thought came glyding by my bed The ghost of Pompey with a ghastly looke All pale and brawne-falne not in tryumph borne Amongst the conquering Romans as we vs'de When he enthroniz'd at his feete beheld Great Emperors fast bound in chaynes of brasse But all amaz'd with fearefull hollow eyes Hys hayre and beard deform'd with blood and sweat Casting a thyn course lynsel ore hys shoulders That torne in peeces trayl'd vpon the ground And gnashing of his teeth vnlockt his iawes Which slyghtly couer'd with a scarce-seene skyn Thys solemne tale he sadly did begin Sleep'st thou Cornelia sleepst thou gentle wife And seest thy Fathers misery and mine Wake deerest sweete and ore our Sepulchers In pitty show thy latest loue to vs Such hap as ours attendeth on my sonnes The selfe-same foe and fortune following them Send Sextus ouer to some forraine Nation Farre from the common hazard of the warrs That being yet sau'd he may attempt no more To venge the valure that is tryde before He sayd And suddainly a trembling horror A chyl-cold shyuering setled in my vaines Brake vp my slumber When I opte my lyps Three times to cry but could nor cry nor speake I mou'd mine head and flonge abroade mine armes To entertaine him but his airie spirit Beguiled mine embrasements and vnkind Left me embracing nothing but the wind O valiant soule when shall this soule of mine Come visite thee in the Elisian shades O deerest life or when shall sweetest death Dissolue the fatall trouble of my daies And blesse me with my Pompeys company But may my father O extreame mishap And such a number of braue regiments Made of so many expert Souldiours That lou'd our liberty and follow'd him Be so discomfited O would it were but an illusion Cho. Madam neuer feare Nor let a senceles Idol of the nyght Encrease a more then needfull feare in you Cor. My feare proceeds not of an idle dreame For t' is a trueth that hath astonisht me I saw great Pompey and I heard hym speake And thinking to embrace him opte mine armes When drousy sleep that wak'd mee at vnwares Dyd with hys flight vnclose my feareful eyes So suddainly that yet mee thinks I see him Howbe-it I cannot tuch him for he slides More swiftly from mee then the Ocean glydes Chorus These are vaine thoughts or melancholie showes That wont to haunt and trace by cloistred tombes Which eath's appeare in sadde and strange disguises To pensiue mindes deceiued wyth theyr shadowes They counterfet the dead in voyce and figure Deuining of our future miseries For when our soule the body hath disgaged It seeks the common passage of the dead Downe by the fearefull gates of Acheron Where when it is by Aeacus adiudg'd It eyther turneth to the Stygian Lake Or staies for euer in th' Elisian fields And ne're returneth to the Corse interd To walke by night or make the wise afeard None but ineuitable conquering Death Descends to hell with hope to rise againe For ghosts of men are lockt in fiery gates Fast-guarded by a fell remorceles Monster And therefore thinke not it was Pompeys spryte But some false Daemon that beguild your sight Cicero Then O worlds Queene O towne that didst extend Thy conquering armes beyond the Ocean And throngdst thy conquests from the Lybian shores Downe to the Scithian swift-foote feareles Porters Thou art embas'd and at this instant yeeld'st Thy proud necke to a miserable yoke Rome thou art tam'd th' earth dewd with thy bloode Doth laugh to see how thou art signiorizd The force of heauen exceeds thy former strength For thou that wont'st to tame and conquer all Art conquer'd now with an eternall fall Now shalt thou march thy hands fast bound behind thee Thy head hung downe thy cheeks with teares besprent Before the victor Whyle thy rebell sonne With crowned front tryumphing followes thee Thy brauest Captaines whose coragious harts Ioyn'd with the right did re-enforce our hopes Now murdred lye for Foule to feede vpon Petreus Cato and Scipio are slaine And Iuba that amongst the Mores did raigne Nowe you whom both the gods and Fortunes grace Hath sau'd from danger in these furious broyles Forbeare to tempt the enemy againe For feare you feele a third calamitie Caesar is like a brightlie flaming blaze That fiercely burnes a house already fired And ceaseles lanching out on euerie side Consumes the more the more you seeke to quench it Still darting sparcles till it finde a trayne To seaze vpon and then it flames amaine The men the Ships wher-with poore Rome affronts him All powreles giue proud Caesars wrath free passage Nought can resist him all the powre we raise Turnes but to our misfortune and his prayse T' is thou O Rome that nurc'd his insolence T' is thou O Rome that gau'st him first the sword Which murder-like against thy selfe he drawes And violates both God and Natures lawes Lyke morrall Esops mysled Country swaine That fownd a Serpent pyning in the snowe And full of foolish pitty tooke it vp And kindly layd it by his houshold fire Till waxen warme it nimbly gan to styr And stung to death the foole that fostred her O gods that once had care of these our walls And feareles kept vs from th' assault of foes Great Iupiter to whom our Capitol So many Oxen yeerely sacrafiz'd Minerua Stator and stoute Thracian Mars Father to good Quirinus our first founder To what intent haue ye preseru'd our Towne This statelie Towne so often hazarded Against the Samnites Sabins and fierce Latins Why from once footing in our Fortresses Haue yee repeld the lustie warlike Gaules Why from Molossus and false Hanibal Haue yee reseru'd the noble Romulists Or why from Catlins lewde conspiracies Preseru'd yee Rome by my preuention To cast so soone a state so long defended Into the bondage where enthrald we pine To serue no stranger but amongst vs one That with blind frenzie buildeth vp his throne But if in vs be any vigor resting If yet our harts retaine one drop of blood Caesar thou shalt not vaunt thy conquest long Nor longer hold vs in this seruitude Nor shalt thou bathe thee longer in our blood For I diuine that thou must vomit it Like to a Curre that Carrion hath deuour'd And cannot rest vntill his mawe be scour'd Think'st thou to signiorize or be the King Of such a number nobler then thy selfe Or think'st thou Romains beare such bastard harts To let thy tyrannie be vnreueng'd No for mee thinks I see the shame the griefe The rage the hatred that they haue conceiu'd And many a Romaine sword already drawne T' enlarge the libertie that thou vsurpst And thy dismembred body stab'd and torne Dragd through the streets disdained to bee borne Phillip and Cornelia Amongst the rest of mine extreame mishaps I finde my fortune not the
CORNELIA AT LONDON Printed by Iames Roberts for N. L. and John Busbie 1594 To the vertuously Noble and rightly honoured Lady the Countesse of Sussex HAuing no leysure most noble Lady but such as euermore is traueld with th' afflictions of the minde then which the world affoords no greater misery it may bee wondred at by some how I durst vndertake a matter of this moment which both requireth cunning rest and oportunity but chiefely that I would attempt the dedication of so rough vnpollished a worke to the suruey of your so worthy selfe But beeing well instructed in your noble and heroick dispositions and perfectly assur'd of your honourable fauours past though neyther making needles glozes of the one nor spoyling paper with the others Pharisaical embroderie I have persum'd vpon your true conceit and entertainement of these small endeuours that thus I purposed to make known my memory of you and them to be immortall A fitter present for a Patronesse so well accomplished I could not finde then this faire president of honour magnanimitie and loue VVherein what grace that excellent GARNIER hath lost by my defaulte I shall beseech your Honour to repaire with the regarde of those so bitter times and priuie broken passions that I endured in the writing it And so vouchsafing but the passing of a VVinters weeke with desolate Cornelia I will assure your Ladiship my next Sommers better trauell with the Tragedy of Portia And euer spend one howre of the day in some kind seruice to your Honour and another of the night in wishing you all happines Perpetually thus deuoting my poore selfe Your Honors in all humblenes T. K. The Argument CORNELIA the Daughter of Metellus Scipio a young Romaine Lady as much accomplisht with the graces of the bodie the vertues of the minde as euer any was was first married to young Crassus who died with his Father in the disconfiture of the Romains against the Parthians Afterward she tooke to second husbande Pompey the great who three yeeres after vpon the first fiers of the ciuill warres betwixt him Caesar sent her fro thence to Mitilen there to attende the incertaine successe of those affaires And when he sawe that hee was vanquisht at Pharsalia returnd to find her out carrie her with him into Egipt where his purpose was to haue re-enforc'd a newe Armie and giue a second assault to Caesar In this voyage hee was murdred by Achillas and Septimius the Romaine before her eyes and in the presence of his young Sonne Sextus and some other Senators his friends After which shee retyred herselfe to Rome But Scipio her Father beeing made Generall of those that suruiued after the battaile assembled new forces and occupied the greater part of Afrique allying himselfe to Iuba King of Numidia Against all whō Caesar after he had ordred the affayres of Egipt and the state of Rome in the end of VVinter marched And there after many light encounters was a fierce and furious battaile giuen amongst them neere the walls of Tapsus Where Scipio seeing himselfe subdued and his Armie scattered he betooke himselfe with some small troope to certaine shippes which he had caused to stay for him Thence he sailed towarde Spayne where Pompeys Faction commaunded and where a suddaine tempest tooke him on the Sea that draue him backe to Hippon a Towne in Affrique at the deuotion of Caesar where lying at anchor he was assailed beaten assaulted by the aduerse Fleete And for hee woulde not fall aliue into the hands of his so mightie Enemie hee stabd himselfe and suddainly leapt ouer boorde into the Sea and there dyed Caesar hauing finished these warres and quietly reduc'd the Townes and places there-about to his obedience return'd to Rome in tryumph for his victories Where this most faire and miserable Ladie hauing ouer-mourn'd the death of her deere husband and vnderstanding of these crosse euents and haples newes of Affrique together with the pitteous manner of her Fathers ende shee tooke as shee had cause occasion to redouble both her teares and lamentations wherewith she closeth the Catastrophe of this theyr Tragedie ⧠INTERLOCVTORES M. Cicero Phillip Deci. Brutus M. Anthony Cornelia C. Cassius Iulius Caesar The Messenger CHORVS CORNELIA ACTVS PRIMVS CICERO VOuchsafe Immortals and aboue the rest Great Iupiter our Citties sole Protector That if prouok'd against vs by our euils You needs wil plague vs with your ceasles wroth At least to chuse those forth that are in fault And saue the rest in these tempestious broiles Els let the mischiefe that should them befall Be pour'd on me that one may die for all Oft hath such sacrafice appeas'd your ires And oft yee haue your heauie hands with-held From this poore people when with one mans losse Your pittie hath preseru'd the rest vntucht But we disloiall to our owne defence Faint-harted do those liberties enthrall Which to preserue vnto our after good Our fathers hazarded their derest blood Yet Brutus Manlius hardie Sceuola And stout Camillus are returnd fro Stix Desiring Armes to ayde our Capitoll Yea come they are and fiery as before Vndera Tyrant see our bastard harts Lye idely sighing while our shamefull soules Endure a million of base controls Poysoned Ambition rooted in high mindes T' is thou that train'st vs into all these errors Thy mortall couetize peruerts our lawes And teares our freedom from our franchiz'd harts Our Fathers found thee at their former walls And humbled to theyr of-spring left thee dying Yet thou reuiuing foyl'dst our Infant Towne With guiltles blood by brothers hands out-lanched And hongst O Hell vpon a Forte halfe finisht Thy monstrous murder for a thing to marke But faith continues not where men command Equals are euer bandying for the best A state deuided cannot firmely stand Two Kings within one realme could neuer rest Thys day we see the Father and the sonne Haue fought like foes Pharsalias miserie And with their blood made marsh the parched plaines While th' earth that gron'd to beare theyr carkasses Bewail'd th' insatiat humors of them both That as much blood in wilfull follie spent As were to tame the world sufficient Now Parthia feare no more for Crassus death That we will come thy borders to besiege Nor feare the darts of our couragious troopes For those braue souldiers that were sometime wont To terrifie thee with their names are dead And ciuill furie fiercer then thine hosts Hath in a manner this great Towne ore-turn'd That whilom was the terror of the world Of whom so many Nations stood in feare To whom so many Nations prostrate stoopt Ore whom saue heauen nought could signorize And whom saue heauen nothing could afright Impregnable immortall and whose power Could neuer haue beene curb'd but by it selfe For neither could the flaxen-haird high Dutch A martiall people madding after Armes Nor yet the fierce and fiery humor'd French The More that trauels to the Lybian sands The Greek Th' Arabian Macedons or Medes Once dare t'
bestow Cornelia T' is true the Heauens at least-wise if they please May giue poore Rome her former libertie But though they would I know they cannot giue A second life to Pompey that is slaine Cicero Mourne not for Pompey Pompey could not die A better death then for his Countries weale For oft he search't amongst the fierce allarms But wishing could not find so faire an end Till fraught with yeeres and honor both at once Hee gaue his bodie as a Barricade For Romes defence by Tyrants ouer-laide Brauely he died and haplie takes it ill That enuious we repine at heauens will Cornelia Alas my sorrow would be so much lesse If he had died his fauchin in his fist Had hee amidst huge troopes of Armed men Beene wounded by another any waie It would haue calmed many of my sighes For why t' haue seene his noble Roman blood Mixt with his enemies had done him good But hee is dead O heauens not dead in fight With pike in hand vpon a Forte besieg'd Defending of a breach but basely slaine Slaine trayterouslie without assault in warre Yea slaine he is and bitter chaunce decreed To haue me there to see this bloody deed I saw him I was there and in mine armes He almost felt the poygnard when he fell Whereat my blood stopt in my stragling vaines Mine haire grew bristled like a thornie groue My voyce lay hid halfe dead within my throate My frightfull hart stund in my stone-cold breast Faintlie redoubled eu'ry feeble stroke My spirite chained with impatient rage Did rauing striue to breake the prison ope Enlarg'd to drowne the payne it did abide In solitary Lethes sleepie tyde Thrice to absent me from thys hatefull light I would haue plund'd my body in the Sea And thrice detaind with dolefull shreeks and cryes With armes to heauen vprea'd I gan exclaime And bellow forth against the Gods themselues A bedroll of outragious blasphemies Till griefe to heare and hell for me to speake My woes waxt stronger and my selfe grew weake Thus day and night I toyle in discontent And sleeping wake when sleepe it selfe that rydes Vpon the mysts scarce moysteneth mine eyes Sorrow consumes mee and in steed of rest With folded armes I sadly sitte and weepe And if I winck it is for feare to see The fearefull dreames effects that trouble mee O heauens what shall I doe alas must I Must I my selfe be murderer of my selfe Must I my selfe be forc'd to ope the way Whereat my soule in wounds may sally forth Cicero Madam you must not thus transpose your selfe VVe see your sorrow but who sorrowes not The griefe is common And I muse besides The seruitude that causeth all our cares Besides the basenes wherein we are yoked Besides the losse of good men dead and gone What one he is that in this broile hath bin And mourneth not for some man of his kin Cornelia If all the world were in the like distresse My sorrow yet would neuer seeme the lesse Cicero O but men beare mis-fortunes with more ease The more indifferently that they fall And nothing more in vprores men can please Then when they see their woes not worst of all Cornelia Our friendes mis-fortune dooth increase our owne Cicero But ours of others will not be acknowne Cornelia Yet one mans sorrow will another tutch Cicero I when himselfe will entertaine none such Cornelia Anothers teares draw teares fro forth our eyes Cicero And choyce of streames the greatest Riuer dryes Cornelia VVhen sand within a VVhirle-poole lyes vnwet My teares shall dry and I my griefe forget Cicero What boote your teares or what auailes your sorrow Against th' ineuitable dart of Death Thinke you to moue with lamentable plaints Persiphone or Plutos gastlie spirits To make him liue that 's locked in his tombe And wandreth in the Center of the earth No no Cornelia Caron takes not paine To ferry those that must be fetcht againe Cornelia Proserpina indeed neglects my plaints And hell it selfe is deafe to my laments Vnprofitably should I waste my teares If ouer Pompey I should weepe to death With hope to haue him be reuiu'd by them Weeping auailes not therefore doe I weepe Great losses greatly are to be deplor'd The losse is great that cannot be restor'd Cicero Nought is immortall vnderneath the Sunne All things are subiect to Deaths tiranny Both Clownes Kings one selfe-same course must run And what-soeuer liues is sure to die Then wherefore mourne you for your husbands death Sith being a man he was ordain'd to die Sith Ioues ownes sonnes retaining humane shape No more then wretched we their death could scape Braue Scipio your famous auncestor That Romes high worth to Affrique did extend And those two Scipios that in person fought Before the fearefull Carthagenian walls Both brothers and both warrs fierce lightning fiers Are they not dead Yes and their death our dearth Hath hid them both embowel'd in the earth And those great Citties whose foundations reacht From deepest hell and with their tops tucht heauen Whose loftie Towers like thorny-pointed speares Whose Temples Pallaces and walls embost In power and force and fiercenes seem'd to threat The tyred world that trembled with their waight In one daies space to our eternall mones Haue we not seene them turn'd to heapes of stones Carthage can witnes and thou heauens hand-work Faire Ilium razed by the conquering Greekes Whose auncient beautie worth and weapons seem'd Sufficient t' haue tam'd the Mermidons But whatso'ere hath been begun must end Death haply that our willingnes doth see With brandisht dart doth make the passage free And timeles doth our soules to Pluto send Cornelia Would Death had steept his date in Lerna-s blood That I were drown'd in the Tartarean deepes I am an offring fit for Acheron A match more equall neuer could be made Then I and Pompey in th' Elisian shade Cicero Death 's alwaies ready and our time is knowne To be at heauens dispose and not our owne Cornelia Can wee be ouer-hastie to good hap Cicero What good expect wee in a fiery gap Cornelia To scape the feares that followes Fortunes glaunces Cicero A noble minde doth neuer feare mischaunces Cornelia A noble minde disdaineth seruitude Cicero Can bondage true nobility exclude Cornelia How if I doe or suffer that I would not Cicero True noblesse neuer doth the thing it should not Cornelia Then must I dye Cicero Yet dying thinke this stil No feare of death should force vs to doe ill Cornelia If death be such why is your feare so rife Cicero My works will shew I neuer feard my life Cornelia And yet you will not that in our distresse We aske Deaths ayde to end lifes wretchednes Cicero We neither ought to vrge nor aske a thing VVherein we see so much assuraunce lyes But if perhaps some fierce offended King To fright vs sette pale death before our eyes To force vs doe that goes against our hart T' were more then base in vs to dread his dart But when