TH

I have not feen at Rome. But you can tell me.

POSTHUMIUS.

[Gazes round.

True: Hither fent on former embaffies,

I know this fplendid court of Macedon,
And haughty Philip, well.

CURTIUS.

His pride prefumes

To treat us here like fubjects, more than Romans,
More than ambaffadors, who, in our bosoms,

Bear peace and war,

and throw him which we please, As Jove his ftorm, or sunshine, on his creatures.

VOL. II.

H

POSTHUMIUS.

POSTHUMIUS.

This Philip only, fince Rome's glory rose,
Preferves its grandeur to the name of king;
Like a bold star, that fhews its fires by day.
The Greek, who won the world, was fent before him,
As the grey dawn before the blaze of noon :
Philip had ne'er been conquer'd, but by Rome;
And what can fame fay more of mortal man?

CURTIUS.

I know his public character.

POSTHUMIUS.

It pains me

To turn my thoughts on his domestic state:
There Philip is no God; but pours his heart,
In ceafelefs groans, o'er his contending fons;
And pays the fecret tax of mighty men

They both are bright; but one

Benignly bright, as ftars to mariners;

And one a comet with malignant blaze,

Denouncing ruin.

CURTIUS.

You mean Perfeus.

POSTHUMIUS.

POSTHUMIUS.

The younger fon Demetrius, you well know,

True,

Was bred at Rome, our hostage from his father.
Soon after, he was fent ambaffador,

When Philip fear'd the thunder of our arms.
Rome's manners won him, and his manners Rome;
Who granted peace, declaring the forgave,
To his high worth, the conduct of his father.
This gave him all the hearts of Macedon;
Which, join'd to his high patronage from Rome,
Inflames his jealous brother.

POSTHUMIUS.

Smother'd by the king;

And wifely too. But thou fhalt hear it all.
Not feals of adamant, not mountains whelm'd
On guilty fecrets, can exclude the day.
Long burnt a fix'd hereditary hate

Between the crowns of Macedon and Thrace ;
The sword by both too much indulg'd in blood.
Philip, at length, prevail'd; he took, by night,
The town, and palace, of his deadly foe;

Rush'd thro' the flames, which he had kindled round,

And flew him, bold in vain : Nor refted there;

But, with unkingly cruelty, destroy'd

Two little fons within their mother's arms;

Thus meaning to tread out thofe fparks of war,
Which might one day flame up to great revenge.
The queen, through grief, on her dead fons expir'd.
One child alone furviv'd: A female infant,
Amid these horrors, in the cradle smil'd.

What of that infant?

CURTIUS.

POSTHUMIUS.

Stung with fharp remorse,

The victor took, and gave her to his queen.
The child was bred, and honour'd, as her own;
She grew, the bloom'd; and now her eyes repay
Her brothers' wounds on Philip's rival fons.
CURTIUS.

Is then Erixene that Thracian child?

How juft the Gods! from out that ruin'd house
He took a brand, to fet his own on fire.

POSTHUMIUS.

To give thee, friend, the whole in miniature ;
This is the picture of great Philip's court:
The proud, but melancholy king, on high,
Majeftic fits, like Jove enthron'd in darkness;
His fons are as the thunder in his hand;
And the fair Thracian princess is a star,
That sparkles by, and gilds the folemn scene.

[Shouts heard.

"Tis their great day, fupreme of all the year,
The fam'd Luftration of their martial powers;
Thence for our audience, chofen by the king.
If he provokes a war, his empire shakes,
And all her lofty glories nod to ruin.
CURTIUS.

Who comes?

POSTHUMLUS.

POSTHUMIUS.

O, that's the jealous elder brother;

Irregular in manners, as in form.

Obferve the fire, high birth, and empire, kindle!
CURTIUS.

He holds his conference with much emotion.

POSTHUMIUS.

The brothers both can talk; and, in their turns,
Have borne away the prize of eloquence
At Athens. Shun his walk: Our own debate
Is now at hand. We'll feek his lion Sire,
Who dares to frown on us his conquerors;
And carries fo much monarch on his brow,
As if he'd fright us with the wounds we gave him.

Enter PERSEUS and PERICLES.

PERSEUS.

'Tis empire! empire! empire! let that word
Make facred all I do, or can attempt!

Had I been born a flave, I should affect it:
My nature's fiery, and, of course, afpires.
Who gives an empire, by the gift defeats
All end of giving; and procures contempt
Instead of gratitude. An empire loft,

Destroy'd, would less confound me, than refign'd.
PERICLES.

But are you fure Demetrius will attempt ?

PERSEUS.

Why does Rome court him? For his virtues? No:

To fire him to dominion: To blow up

A civil war; then to support him in it:

He gains the name of king, and Rome the power.

PERICLES.

This is indeed the common art of Rome.

H 3

[Exeunt.

PERSEUS.