VARIUS.

And well it would be loft,

For ftaying here one Night within those Arms.

JUNIA.

VARIUS, fo high a Complement as this

Shews you have study'd long at courtly Athens ;
Where you have learn'd to know all things, but me:
Who, tho' I value CAIUS CASSIUS,

As Slaves do Liberty, or fick Men Health,
Nay more than most of my own Sex love Power;
Yet (what I think the very worft of Fates)

I would lofe fight of that dear Man for ever,
Rather than see him fail our Country's Cause.

VARIUS.

Oh ample Recompence for all his Troubles,
To be fo lov'd by you! But is he grateful,
Who can fo cafily endure your Absence?

JUNIA.

I mourn for his, and judge his Grief by mine.
Retirement fuits a folitary Wife,

And Melancholy loves to be alone,

Rather fhine forth, and chear your Brother's Soul, Which daily finks beneath a thousand Cares.

JUNIA.

His Soul's too great to need fuch feeble Help.
Befides, tho' priz'd he be above Expreffion,
Yet ev❜n his Friendship must not vye with Love:
One Thought of CASSIUS Out-weighs all things else.
CASSIUS, whofe noble Soul would ne'er fubmit
To him who domincer'd o'er all befides:
CASSIUS, Contriver of the Tyrant's Fall;
And, (what is more, far more than all the rest)
That hardy Man who mov'd it first to BRUTUS:
This Man, my Husband, or my Hero rather,
Shall with his Prefence ever chear my Eyes,
Or in his Abfence take up all my Thoughts.
[Exit JUNIA

SCENE V.

Enter BRUTUS.

BRUTUS.

My Sister weeping! Tho' her Reason governs,
I judge her Grief for CASSIUS, by my own,
For PORTIA'S Abfence fits upon my Heart:
Nor need I blush to bear the tender Burthen,
So much she merits, and so well fhe loves.

But

But publick Cares muft filence private Grief;
Since ev'ry Hour some fresh Expresses tell
New fatal Turns in Rome, portending ill:
The wav'ring LEPIDUS (perceiving CÆSAR
Had cunningly agreed with ANTONY)
Tho' with a greater Army, yields to them.

VARIUS.

What fays the the noble BRUTUS?-JUNIA gone!

BRUTUS.

IS VARIUS deaf to Dangers of his Country?

VARIUS.

Forbid it, Jove! But JUNIA's Melancholy,
So very moving, took up all my Thoughts.

BRUTUS.

Too moving, I'm afraid.

VARIUS.

Indeed, my Lord,

Had you perceiv'd the Charms of weeping Beauty, That gorgeous Dress which Sorrow had put on, (Out-fhining all the Gaiety of Youth,

The pleafing Smiles of Mirth, and Airs of Joy) Your gentle Nature would be mov'd like mine.

BRUTUS.

Why you have drawn a Picture, my young VARIUS,

Like any Poet, nay like any Lover.

What,

What, does that word draw forth a guilty Blush? Be not alarm'd, no more than I am, VARIUS; JUNIA'S ftrict Virtue and known Love to CASSIUS, Fully prevent my Fears, unless for you;

Whofe Father's wond'rous Merit, and your own, Give me a foft Concern, as for a Son.

She is above your very vaineft Hopes:

Not the moft tempting Charms of Wit, or Worth,
Moft graceful Forms, or dazling Shew of Greatness,
Can make Impreffion on a Mind like her's ;
Who, tho' my Sifter, forces Praises from me.

VARIUS.

Too much, alas, I join in JUNIA's Praise :
My eager Thoughts ftill fly before your Words,
And find them short, far fhort of JUNIA's due.

BRUTUS.

Then whence can rife felf-flatt'ring Expectation?
Can VARIUS reafon thus against himself,
And act quite contrary to what he thinks?
Oh what is Man, when blinded with his Paffion!

VARIUS.

Why just that Creature Heaven thought fit to make

him.

You are, indeed, exempt from all our Follics,
And reft ferene within: Yet pity others!

Be

Behold, I own my undifguis'd Offence,

And freely open all my Thoughts to you;
To you, who are a very God to VARIUS,

Who can at once forgive, and cure my Weakness.
BRUTUS.

But only by Despair: without that help,
There is no God himself can give you ease:
A fharp, I must confefs, but certain Cure.
Our Stoical Philosophy inftructs us,

A wife Man is above the reach of Jove,
Yet hardly 'scapes the worst of Demons, Love.
But fince good JUNIA'S Soul is firm as Fate,
fo too. What helps it to be learn'd?
Or to be wife in Bus'nefs of the World?

Be

yours

Nay, where would be the good to rule that World,
Without an inward Pow'r to govern Passion?
The Man difturb'd within, is but a Player;
May act abroad, perhaps, fome Hero's Part,
But finks at home, a low, uneafy Slave.

VARIUS.

To teach, is eafy; but to learn, is hard.

As well might Heav'nly SOCRATES infuse

His own wife Temper while he taught his Morals,
As BRUTUS raife my Soul to equal his.

BRU