But, O the night of Canna's raging field!
When half the Roman senate lay in blood
Without our tent, and groan'd, as we carous'd!
Immortal gods! for fuch another hour!
Then throw my carcafe to the dogs of Rome.
Sir, you forget your fons.
[Exeunt all but the King and his fons.
Two paffions only take up all my foul;
Hatred to Rome, and tenderness for them.-
Draw near, my fons, and listen to my age.
By what has pafs'd, you fee the state of things:
Foreign alliance must a king fecure;
And infolence fuftain to ferve his power:
And if alliances with Rome are needful,
Much more among ourselves. If I muft bear,
Unmov'd, an infult from a stranger's brow,
Shall not a brother bear a brother's look
Without impatience? Whither all this tends,
I'm forry that your conscious hearts can tell you:
Is it not moft fevere? Two fons alone
Have crown'd my bed; and they two are not brothers.
Look here, and, from my kind regards to you,
Copy fuch looks as you should bear each other.
Why do I figh? Do you not know, my fons?
And if you do―O let me figh no more!
Let these white hairs put in a claim to peace
PERSEUS.
Henceforth, my fole contention with my brother
Is this; which best obeys our father's will.
Father, if fimple nature ever speaks
In her own language, fcorning ufelefs words,
You fee her now; fhe fwells into my eyes.
I take thee to my heart; I fold thee in it.
[Embracing Perfeus. Our father bids; and that we drank one milk, Is now the smallest motive of my love. KING.
Antigonus, the joy their mother felt
When they were born, was faint to what I feel.
DEMETRIUS.
See, brother, if he does not weep! His love
Runs o'er in venerable tears. I'm rude;
But nature will prevail-My king! My father!
PERSEUS. [Afide.]
Now cannot I let fall a fingle tear.
See! the good man has caught it too.
And fuch alone, be fhed in Macedonia!
Be not thou, Perfeus, jealous of thy brother;
Nor thou, Demetrius, prone to give him cause;
Nor either think of empire till I'm dead.
You need not; you reign now; my heart is yours.
Sheath your refentments in your father's peace;
Come to my bofom both, and fwear it there.
Look down, ye gods, and change me, if you can,
This fight for one more lovely. What so sweet,
So beautiful, on earth, and, ah! fo rare,
As kindred love, and family repose !
This, this alliance, Rome, will quite undo thee.
See this, proud Eastern monarchs! and look pale!
Armies are routed, realms o'er-run by this.
Or if leagu'd worlds fuperior forces bring,
I'd rather die a Father, than a King.
Fathers alone, a Father's, heart can know ;
What fecret tides of ftill enjoyment flow,
When brothers love! But if their hate fucceeds,
They wage the war; but 'tis the Father bleeds.
HY loiters my ambaffador to Dymas?
His greatness will not fure prefume to fcorn.
A friendship offer'd from an heir of empire.
He's cautious, Sir; he's subtle; he's a courtier ;
Dymas is now for you, now for your brother;
For both, and neither: He's a fummer-infect,
And loves the funshine: On his gilded wings,
While the scales waver, he'll fly doubtful round you;
And fing his flatteries to both alike :
The scales once fix'd, he'll settle on the winner,
And fwear his pray'rs drew down the victory--
But what fuccefs had you, Sir, with your brother?
PERSEUS.
All, all my hopes are at the point of death?
The boy triumphant keeps his hold in love:
He's ever warbling nonsense in her ear,
With all th' intoxication of success.
Darkness inclofes me; nor fee I light
From any quarter dawn, but from his death.
Why start at his death, who refolves on yours ?
Have you not mark'd the princefs?
You have: With what a beam of majesty
Her eye strikes facred awe! It speaks her mind
Exalted, as it is. Whom loves the then?
Demetrius? no; Rome's darling; who, no doubt,
Dares court her with your empire. And fhall Perfeus
Survive that lofs ?-Thus he refolves your death.
Moft true. What crime then to strike first? But how?
Or when? or where? O Pericles! affift me,
Wait an occafion that befriends your wishes.
Go, fool, and teach a cataract to creep!
Can thirst of empire, vengeance, beauty, wait?
PERICLES.
In the mean time, accept a ftratagem
That must fecure your empire, or your love.
Your brother's Roman friendships gall no less
The king, than you: He dreads their confequence.
Dymas hates Rome; and Dymas has a daughter.
How can the king fo powerfully fix
Demetrius' faith, as by his marriage there?
For Dymas thus (Rome's fworn, eternal foe)
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