THE

BROTHERS.

ACT I.-SCENE I.

Enter CURTIUS and POSTHUMIUS,

CURTIUS.

THERE's something of magnificence about us
I have not seen at Rome. But you can tell me.

POSTHUMIUS.

True: Hither sent on former embassies,

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

CURTIUS.

[Gazes round.

His pride presumes

To treat us here like subjects, more than Romans,
More than ambassadors, who, in our bosoms,

Bear peace and war, and throw him which we please,
As Jove his storm, or sunshine, on his creatures.

POSTHUMIUS.

This Philip only, since Rome's glory rose,
Preserves its grandeur to the name of king;

Like a bold star, that shews its fires by day.

The Greek, who won the world, was sent 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 say 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 ceaseless groans, o'er his contending sons;
And pays the secret tax of mighty men
To their mortality.

They both are bright; but one

Benignly bright, as stars to mariners;
And one a comet with malignant blaze,
Denouncing ruin.

CURTIUS.

You mean Perseus.

POSTHUMIUS.

True,

The younger son Demetrius, you well know, Was bred at Rome, our hostage from his father. Soon after, he was sent ambassador,

When Philip fear'd the thunder of our arms.

Rome's manners won him, and his manners Rome;
Who granted peace, declaring she 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.

And wisely too. But thou shalt hear it all.
Not seals of adamant, not mountains whelm'd
On guilty secrets, 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 slew him, bold in vain: Nor rested there;

But, with unkingly cruelty, destroy'd

Two little sons within their mother's arms;

Thus meaning to tread out those sparks of war,

Which might one day flame up to great revenge.

The queen, through grief, on her dead sons expir'd.
One child alone surviv'd: A female infant,
Amid these horrors, in the cradle smil❜d.

The child was bred, and honour'd, as her own;
She grew, she bloom'd; and now her eyes repay
Her brothers' wounds on Philip's rival sons.

CURTIUS.

Is then Erixene that Thracian child?

How just the Gods! from out that ruin'd house
He took a brand, to set 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,
Majestic sits, like Jove enthron'd in darkness;
His sons are as the thunder in his hand;
And the fair Thracian princess is a star,
That sparkles by, and gilds the solemn scene.

[Shouts heard.

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

Who comes?

CURTIUS.

POSTHUMIUS.

O, that's the jealous elder brother;

Irregular in manners, as in form.

Observe 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 seek his lion Sire,
Who dares to frown on us his conquerors;
And carries so 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 sacred all I do, or can attempt!
Had I been born a slave, I should affect it:
My nature's fiery, and, of course, aspires.
Who gives an empire, by the gift defeats
All end of giving; and procures contempt
Instead of gratitude. An empire lost,

[Exeunt.

Destroy'd, would less confound me, than resign'd.

PERICLES.

But are you sure 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.