THE WOUNDS of Civil War.  
Lively set forth in the true Tragedies of Marius and Sulla.  
As it hath been publicly played in London, by the Right Honourable the Lord high Admiral his Servants.  
Written by Thomas Lodge Gent.  
O Uita! miserolonga, foelicibrevis,  
 
LONDON, Printed by john Danter, and are to be sold at the sign of the Sun in Paul's Churchyard. 1594.   

The most Lamentable and true Tragedies of Marius and Sulla,  Enter on the Capitol Sulpitius Tribune: Caius Marius: Q. Pompey Consul: junius Brutus: Lucretius: Caius Granius: Lictorius: Lucius Merula Jupiter's Priest: and Cynna: whom placed, and their Lictors before them with their Rods and Axes, Sulpitius beginneth. SULPITIUS TRIBUNE. 
Grave Senators and Fathers of this State,  
Our strange protractions & unkind delays  
where weighty wars doth call us out to fight  
Our factious wits to please aspiring Lords,  
You see hath added power unto our foes,  
And hazarded rich Phrigia and Bithynia,  
With all our Asian Holds and Cities too:  
Thus Sulla seeking to be General,  
(Who is invested in our Consuls Pall)  
Hath forced murders in a quiet State:  
The cause whereof even Pompey may complain,  
Who seeking to advance a climbing friend,  
Hath lost by death a sweet and courteous son.  
Who now in Asia but Mithridates,  
Laughs at these fond dissensions I complain?  
While we in wrangling for a General,  
Forsake our friends, forestall our forward war,  
And leave our Legions full of dalliance,  
weighting our idle wills at Capua.  
Fie Romans, shall the glories of your names,  
The wondrous beauty of this Capitol,  
Perish through Sulla's insolence and pride,  
As if that Rome were robbed of true renown,  
And destitute of warlike Champions now?  
Lo here the man, the rumor of whose fame,  
Hath made Hiberia tremble and submit;  
See Marius that in managing estate,  
Through many cares and troubles he hath passed,  
And spent his youth, upon whose reverend head  
The milk-white pledge of wisdom sweetly spreads:  
He six times Consul, fit for peace or war,  
Sits drooping here content to brook disgrace,  
Who glad to fight through follies of his foes  
Sighs for your shame whilst you abide secure;  
And I that see and should recure these wrongs,  
Through Pompey's late vacation and delay,  
Have left to publish him for General,  
That merits better titles far than these:  
But (Nobles) now the final day is come,  
When I your Tribune studying for renown,  
Pronounce and publish Marius' General,  
To lead our Legions against Mithridates,  
And crave (grave Fathers) signs of your content,  Q. Pomp: 
Believe me Noble Romans, & grave Senators,  
This strange election, and this new made Law,  
Will witness our unstable government,  
And dispossess Rome of her Empery;  
For although Marius be renowned in Arms,  
Famous for prowess, and grave in warlike drifts,  
Yet may the sunshine of his former deeds  
Nothing eclipse our Sulla's dignity:  
By lot and by election he was made,  
Chief General against Mithridates,  
And shall we then abridge him of that Rule;  
'twere injury to Sulla and to Rome:  
Nor would the height of his all daring mind,  
Brook to the death so vile and foul disgrace.  Iu, Brutus: 
Why Pompey, as if the Senate had not power  
To appoint, dispose, & change their Generals:  
Rome shall belike be bound to Sulla's Rule,  
Whose haughty pride and swelling thoughts puffed up,  
Foreshows the reaching to proud Tarquin's state:  
Is not his lingering to our Roman loss  
At Capua where he braves it out with feasts,  
Made known think you unto the Senate here?  
Yes Pompey, yes: and hereof are we sure  
If Romans' State on Sulla's pride should lie,  
Rome's Conquests would to Pontus Regions fly:  
Therefore grave and renowned Senators,  
(Pillars that bear and hold our Rule aloft,  
You stately, true, and rich pyramids)  
Descend into the depth of your estates,  
Then shall you find that Sulla is more fit,  
To Rule in Rome domestical affairs,  
Then have the Conquest of Bithynia,  
Which if once got, he'll but by death forego,  
Therefore I say Marius our General.  Lucretius: 
Lo thus we strive abroad to win renown,  
And nought regard at home our waning states;  
Brutus I say the many brave exploits,  
The warlike Acts that Sulla hath achieved,  
Shows him a soldier and a Roman too,  
Whose care is more for Country than himself:  
Sulla nill brook that in so many wars,  
So hard adventures and so strange extremes,  
Hath borne the palm and prize of victory,  
Thus with dishonour to give up his charge:  
Sulla hath friends and soldiers at command,  
That first will make the towers of Rome to shake,  
And force the stately Capitol to dance,  
Yer any rob him of his just renown:  
Then we that through the Caspian shores have run,  
And spread with ships the Oriental Sea,  
At home shall make a murder of our friends,  
And massacre our dearest Countrymen.  Licto: 
The power of Sulla nought will vail 'gainst Rome,  
And let me die Lucretius ere I see,  
Our Senate dread for any private man,  
Therefore Renowned Sulpitius send for Sulla back,  
Let Marius lead our men in Asia.  L. Merula: 
The Law, the Senate wholly doth affirm,  
Let Marius lead our men in Asia.  Cynna: 
Cinna affirms the senate's Censure just,  
And saith let Marius lead the Legions forth.  C. Granius: 
Honour and victory follow Marius' steps,  
For him doth Granius wish to fight for Rome.  Sulpitius: 
why then you sage and ancient Sires of Rome,  
Sulpitius here again doth publish forth,  
That Marius by the Senate here is made,  
Chief General to lead the Legions out,  
Against Mithridates and his Competitors,  
Now victory for honour of Rome follow Marius.  Here let Marius rouse himself. Marius: 
Sage and imperial Senators of Rome,  
Not without good advisement have you seen,  
Old Marius silent during your discourse:  
Yet not for that he feared to plead his cause,  
Or raise his honour trodden down by age,  
But that his words should not allure his friends,  
To stand on stricter terms for his behoof:  
six times the Senate by election hath,  
Made Marius' Consul over warlike Rome,  
And in that space nor Rome nor all the world,  
Could ever say that Marius was untrue,  
These silver hairs that hang upon my face,  
Are witnesses of my unfeigned zeal,  
The Cymbrians that erewhile invaded France,  
And held the roman Empire in disdain,  
Lay all confounded under Marius' sword,  
Fierce Scipio the mirror once of Rome,  
whose loss as yet my inward soul bewails,  
Being asked who should succeed and bear his Rule,  
Even this (quoth he) shall Scipios armour bear,  
And therewithal clapped me upon the back:  
If then grave Lords, my former passed youth,  
was spent in bringing Honours into Rome,  
Let then my age and latter date of years,  
Be sealed up for honour unto Rome.  Here enter Scilla with Captains and Soldiers. Sul: 
Sulla, what means these Arms and warlike troops  
These glorious Ensigns and these fierce Alarms,  
'tis proudly done to brave the Capitol.  Scilla: 
These Arms Sulpitius are not borne for hate,  
But maintenance of my confirmed state:  
I come to Rome with no seditious thoughts,  
Except I find too froward injuries.  Sul: 
But wisdom would you did forbear,  
To yield these flight suspicions of contempt,  
where as this Senate studieth high affairs.  Scil: 
what serious matters have these Lords in hand?  Sul: 
The Senators with full decree appoint,  
Old Marius for their Captain General,  
To lead thy Legions into Asia,  
And fight against the fierce Mithridates.  Scilla: 
To Marius? jolly stuff: why then I see,  
Your Lordships mean to make a babe of me.  Iu. Brutus: 
'tis true Sulla the Senate hath agreed,  
That Marius shall those bands and Legions bear,  
which you now hold against Mithridates.  Scil: 
Marius shall lead them then, if Sulla said not no,  
And I shall bea consul's shadow then,  
trustless Senators and ingrateful Romans,  
For all the Honours I have done to Rome,  
For all the spoils I brought within her walls,  
Thereby for to enrich and raise her pride,  
Repay you me with this ingratitude:  
You know unkind, that Sulla's wounded Helm,  
Was near hung up or once distained with rust:  
The Marcians that before me fell amain,  
And like to winter hail on every side,  
Unto the City Nuba I pursued,  
And for your sakes were thirty thousand slain:  
The Hippinians and the samnites Sulla brought,  
As Tributaries unto famous Rome:  
ay, where did Sulla ever draw his sword,  
Or lift his warlike hand above his head  
For Romans cause but he was Conqueror:  
And now (unthankful) seek you to disgrade,  
And tear the plumes that Sulla's sword hath won.  
Marius I tell thee Sulla is the man,  
Disdains to stoop or vail his pride to thee;  
Marius I say thou mayst nor shalt not have,  
The charge that unto Sulla doth belong,  
Unless thy sword could tear it from my heart,  
Which in a thousand folds impales the same.  Marius: 
And Sulla hereof be thou full assured,  
The honour whereto mine undaunted mind,  
And this grave senate hath enhanced me,  
Thou nor thy followers shall derogate,  
The 'spence of years that Marius hath o'erpast,  
In foreign broils and civil mutinies,  
Hath taught him this, that one unbridled foe,  
My former fortunes never shall o'ergo.  scilla: 
Marius, I smile at these thy foolish words,  
And credit me should laugh outright I fear,  
If that I knew not how thy froward age,  
Doth make thy sense as feeble as thy joints.  Marius: 
Sulla, Sulla, Marius' years hath taught  
Him how to pluck so proud a younker's plumes,  
And know these hairs that dangle down my face,  
In brightness like the silver Rodope:  
Shall add so haughty courage to my mind,  
And rest such piercing objects 'gainst thine eyes,  
That masked in folly, age shall force thee stoop.  Scil: 
And by my hand I swear ere thou shalt maze me so,  
My soul shall perish but I'll have thy beard,  
Say grave Senators shall Sulla be your General.  Sulpitius: 
No the Senate, I and Rome herself agrees  
there's none but Marius shall be General.  
Therefore Sulla these daring terms unfit,  
Beseem not thee before the Capitol.  Scilla: 
Beseem not me? Senators advise you,  
Sulla hath vowed whose vows the heavens record,  
Whose oaths hath pierced and searched the deepest vast,  
I and whose protestations reign on earth:  
This Capitol wherein your glories shine,  
Was near so priest and throng de with scarlet gowns,  
As Rome shall be with heaps of slaughtered souls  
Before that Sulla yield his titles up,  
I'll mate her streets that peer into the clouds,  
Burnished with gold and ivory pillars fair,  
Shining with jasper, jet, and Ebony,  
All like the palace of the morning sun,  
To swim within a sea of purple blood  
Before I lose the name of General.  Mar: 
These threats against thy country and these Lords.  
Sulla proceeds from forth a Traitor's heart,  
Whose head I trust to see advanced up  
On highest top of all this Capitol:  
As erst was many of thy progeny,  
Before thou vaunt thy victories in Rome.  Scilla: 
Graybeard, if so thy heart and tongue agree,  
Draw forth thy Legions and thy men at arms,  
Rear up thy standard and thy steeled Crest,  
And meet with Sulla in the fields of Mars,  
And try whose fortune makes him General.  Marius: 
I take thy word: Marius will meet thee there,  
And prove thee Sulla a Traitor unto Rome,  
And all that march under thy traitorous wings,  
Therefore they that love the Senate and Marius  
Now follow him.  Scilla: 
And all that love Sulla come down to him,  
For the rest let them follow Marius  
And the Devil himself be their Captain.  Here let the Senate rise and cast away their Gowns, having their swords by their sides: Exit Marius and with him Sulpitius: Iu: Brutus: Lectorius. Q. Pompey: 
Sulla, I come to thee,  Lucretius: 
Sulla, Lucretius will die with thee,  Scilla: 
Thanks my Noble Lords of Rome.  Here let them go down and Scilla offers to go forth and Anthony calls him back, Usum: 
Stay Sulla, hear Anthony breath forth,  
The pleading plaints of sad declining Rome.  Scilla: 
Anthony, thou know'st thy honey words do pierce,  
And move the mind of Sulla to remorse:  
Yet neither words nor pleadings now must serve,  
whenas mine honour calls me forth to fight,  
Therefore sweet Anthony be short for Sulla's haste.  Usum: 
For Sulla's haste, O whither wilt thou fly?  
Tell me my Sulla what dost thou take in hand?  
What wars are these thou stirrest up in Rome?  
What fire is this is kindled by thy wrath!  
A fire that must be quenched by Romans blood,  
A war that will confound our Empery,  
And last an Act of foul impiety.  
Brute beasts nill break the mutual law of love,  
And birds affection will not violate,  
The senseless trees have concord 'mongst themselves,  
And stones agree in links of amity,  
If they my Sulla brook not to have jar,  
What then are men that 'gainst themselves do war?  
thou'lt say my Sulla honour stirs thee up:  
be't honour to infringe the laws of Rome?  
thou'lt say perhaps the titles thou hast won,  
It were dishonour for thee to forego:  
O, is there any height above the high,  
Or any better than the best of all?  
Art thou not Consul? Art thou not Lord of Rome?  
What greater Titles should our Sulla have?  
But thou wilt hence, thou wilt fight with Marius  
The man, the Senate, I and Rome hath chose.  
Think this before, thou never lift'st aloft,  
And lettest fall thy warlike hand adown,  
But thou dost raze and wound thy City Rome:  
And look how many slaughtered souls he slain,  
Under thy Ensigns, and thy conquering Lance,  
so many murders makest thou of thyself.  Scilla: 
Enough my Anthony, for thy honeyed tongue  
Washed in a syrup of sweet Conservatives,  
Driveth confused thoughts through Sulla's mind,  
Therefore suffice thee, I may nor will not hear,  
so farewell Anthony, honour calls me hence,  
Sulla will fight for glory and for Rome.  Exit Scilla and his followers. Merula: 
See Noble Anthony the trustless state of rule,  
The stayles hold of matchless sovereignty,  
Now fortune beareth Rome into the Clouds,  
To throw her down into the lowest hells,  
For they that spread her glory through the world,  
Are they that tear her proud triumphant plumes:  
The hart-burning pride of proud Tarquinius,  
Rooted from Rome the sway of kingly mace,  
And now this discord newly set abroach,  
Shall ease our Consuls and our senate's down.  Usum: 
Unhappy Rome and Romans thrice accursed,  
That oft with triumphs filled your City walls,  
With kings and conquering Rulers of the world,  
Now to eclipse in top of all thy pride,  
Through civil discords and domestic broils:  
O Romans weep the tears of sad lament,  
And rent your sacred Robes at this exchange,  
For Fortune makes our Rome a banding ball,  
tossed from her hand to take the greater fall.  Gra: 
O whence proceeds these foul ambitious thoughts,  
That fires men's hearts and makes them thirst for Rule:  
Hath sovereignty so much be witched the minds  
Of Romans: that their former busied cares  
Which erst did tire in seeking Cities good,  
Must now be changed to ruin of her walls?  
Must they that reared her stately Temples up,  
Deface the sacred places of their Gods?  
Then may we wail and wring our wretched hands,  
Sith both our Gods, our temples and our walls,  
Ambition makes fell fortune's spiteful thralls. Ex: all.  A great Alarum: let young Marius' chase Pompey over the stage, and old Marius' chase Lucretius: Then let enter three or four soldiers and his Ancient with his colours, and Scilla after them with his hat in his hand, they offer to fly away,. Scilla: 
Why whither fly you Romans,  
What mischief makes this flight?  
Stay good my friends, stay dearest Countrymen.  1. soldier: 
Stay let us hear what our Lord Sulla saith.  Scilla: 
What will you leave your chieftains Romans there  
And lose your Honours in the gates of Rome?  
What shall our Country see, and Sulla rue,  
These Coward thoughts so fixed and firmed in you?  
What are you come from Capua to proclaim,  
Your heartless treasons in this happy town?  
What will you stand and gaze with shameless looks,  
Whilst Marius butchering knife assails our throats?  
Are you the men, the hopes, the stairs of state?  
Are you the soldiers priest for Asia?  
Are you the wondered Legions of the world,  
And will you fly these shadows of resist?  
Well Romans I will perish through your pride,  
That thought by you to have returned in pomp.  
And at the least your General shall prove,  
Even in his death your treasons and his love.  
Lo this the wreath that shall my body bind,  
Whilst Sulla sleeps with honour in the field:  
And I alone within these colours shut,  
Will blush your dastard follies in my death,  
So farewell heartless soldiers and untrue,  
That leave your Sulla who hath loved you. Exit.  1. soldier: 
Why fellow soldiers shall we fly the field,  
And carelessly forsake our General?  
What shall our vows conclude with no avail?  
First die sweet friends, and shed your purple blood,  
Before you lose the man that will you good.  
Then to it brave Italians out of hand:  
Sulla we come with fierce and deadly blows,  
To venge thy wrongs and vanquish all thy toes.  Exeunt to the Alarum.  

Actus secundus. Scena prima  Appian solus. Enter Scilla triumphant, Lucretius, Pompey, with souldierr. SCilla: 
You Roman soldiers, fellow mates in Arms,  
The blind fold Mistress of incertain chance,  
Hath turned these traitorous chimers from the top,  
And seated Sulla in the chiefest place.  
The place beseeming Sulla and his mind,  
For were the throne where matchless glory sits,  
empaled with furies threatening blood and death,  
Begirt with famine and those fatal fears  
That dwell below amidst the dreadful vast:  
Tut Sulla's sparkling eyes should dim with clear  
The burning brands of their consuming light,  
And master fancy with a forward mind,  
And mask repining fear with awful power.  
For men of baser metal and conceit  
Cannot conceive the beauty of my thought.  
I crowned with a wreath of warlike state,  
Imagine thoughts more greater than a crown,  
And yet befitting well a Roman mind.  
Then gentle ministers of all my hopes,  
That with your swords made way unto my wish,  
Hearken the fruits of your courageous fight,  
In spite of all these Roman Basilisks,  
That seek to quell us with their currish looks,  
We will to Pontus we'll have gold my hearts,  
Those oriental pearls shall deck our brows:  
And you my gentle friends, you Roman peers,  
Kind Pompey worthy of a consuls name.  
You shall abide the father of the state,  
Whilst these brave lads Lucretius and I,  
In spite of all these brawling Senators,  
Will, shall, and dare attempt on Asia,  
And drive Mithridates from out his doors.  Pomp. 
I Sulla, these are words of mickle worth,  
Fit for the master of so great a mind:  
Now Rome must stoop, for Marius and his friends  
Have left their arms, and trust unto their heels.  Scilla. 
But Pompey, if our Spanish jennets feet  
Have learned to post it of their mother wind,  
I hope to nip upon the grey beards heels,  
Till I have cropped his shoulders from his head.  
As for his son, the proud aspiring boy,  
His beardless face and wanton smiling brows,  
Shall (if I catch him) deck yond Capitol:  
The father, son, the friends, and soldiers all,  
That fawn on Marius, shall with fury fall.  Luer: 
And what event shall all these troubles bring?  Scilla. 
This: Sulla in fortune will exceed a king.  
But friends and soldiers, with dispersed bands  
Go seek out Marius' fond confederates:  
some post along those unfrequented paths,  
That tracked by nooks unto the neighbouring sea:  
Murder me Marius, and maintain my life.  
And that his favourites in Rome may learn  
The difference betwixt my fawn and frown,  
Go cut them short, & shed their hateful blood, Ex. Soul.  
To quench these furies of my froward mood.  Lucr. 
Lo Sulla where our senators approach,  
Perhaps to gratulate thy good success.  Enter anthony, Granius, Lepidus. Scilla 
I that perhaps was fitly placed there:  
But my Lucretius, these are cunning Lords,  
Whose tongues are tipped with honey to deceive:  
As for their hearts, if outward eyes may see them,  
The devil scarce with mischief might agree them.  Lep. 
Good fortune to our Consul, worthy Sulla.  Scilla 
And why not General against the king of Pontus?  Gran: 
And general against the king of Pontus.  Scilla. 
sirrah, your words are good, your thoughts are ill,  
Each milk white hair amidst this mincing beard,  
Compared with milions of thy treacherous thoughts,  
Would change their hue through vigour of thy hate.  
But did not pity make my fury thrall,  
This sword should finish hate, thy life and all.  
I pray thee Granius, how doth Marius?  Gran: 
As he that bides a thrall to thee and fate,  
Living in hope as I and others do,  
To catch good fortune, and to cross thee too.  Scilla: 
Both blunt and bold but too much Mother wit;  
To play with fire where fury streams about,  
curtal your tale fond man cut of the rest:  
But here I will dissemble for the best.  Granius: 
Sulla my years hath taught me to discern,  
Betwixt ambitious pride and Princely zeal,  
And from thy youth these Peers of Rome have marked,  
A rash revenging hammer in thy brain,  
Thy tongue adorned with flowing eloquence,  
And yet I see imprinted in thy brows,  
A fortunate but froward governance.  
And though thy rival Marius mated late,  
By backward working of his wretched fate  
Is fallen, yet Sulla mark what I have seen  
Even here in Rome the Fencer Spectacus,  
Hath been as fortunate as thou thyself:  
But when that Crassus' sword assayed his crest,  
The fear of death did make him droop for woe.  Scilla: 
You saw in Rome this brawling fencer die,  
When Spectacus by Crassus was subdued:  
Why so, but sir I hope you will apply,  
And say like Spectacus that I shall die?  
Thus peevish eld discoursing by a fire,  
Amidst their cups will prate how men aspire:  
Is this the greeting Romans that you give,  
Unto the Patron of your Monarchy?  
Lucretius shall I play a pretty jest.  Lucre: 
What Sulla will, what Roman dare withstand?  Scilla: 
A brief and pleasing answer by my head,  
Why tell me Granius dost thou talk in sport?  Granius: 
No Sulla my discourse is resolute,  
Not coined to please thy fond and cursed thoughts:  
For were my tongue betrayed with pleasing words,  
To feed the humours of thy haughty mind:  
I rather wish the rot should root it out.  Scilla: 
The bravest brawler that I ever heard,  
But soldiers since I see he is oppressed  
With crooked choler, and our Artists teach,  
That fretting blood will press through opened veins,  
Let him that hath the keenest sword arrest,  
The graybeard and cut off his head in jest.  
soldiers lay hands on Granius.  Granius: 
Is this the guerdon then of good advise?  Scilla: 
No but the means to make fond men more wise,  
Tut I have wit, and carry warlike tools,  
To charm the scolding prate of wanton fools,  
Tell me of Fencers and a tale of Fate?  
No, Sulla thinks of nothing but a state.  Granius: 
Why Sulla I am armed the worst to try.  Scilla: 
I pray thee then Lucretius let him die.  Exeunt with Granius. 
Beshrew me Lords but in this jolly vain,  
'twere pity but the prating fool were slain:  
I fear me Pluto will be wroth with me,  
For to detain so grave a man as he.  Usum: 
But seek not Sulla in this quiet state,  
To work revenge upon an aged man,  
A senator, a sovereign of this town.  scilla: 
The more the Cedar climbs the sooner down  
And did I think the proudest man in Rome,  
Would winch at that which I have wrought or done,  
I would and can control his insolence.  
Why senators, is this the true reward,  
Wherewith you answer Princes for their pain,  
As when this sword hath made our City free,  
A braving mate should thus distemper me?  
But Lepidus and fellow senators,  
I am resolved and will not brook your taunts,  
Who wrongeth Sulla, let him look for stripes.  Mark Usum: 
ay but the milder passions show the man;  
For as the leaf doth beautify the tree,  
The pleasant flowers bedeck the painted spring,  
Even so in men of greatest reach and power,  
A mild and piteous thought augments renown:  
Old Anthony did never see my Lord,  
A swelling shower that did continue long,  
A climbing tower that did not taste the wind,  
A wrathful man not wasted with repent,  
I speak of love my Sulla, and of joy  
To see how fortune lends a pleasant gale,  
Unto the spreading sails of thy desires:  
And loving thee must counsel thee withal,  
For as by cutting fruitful vines increase,  
So faithful counsels works a PRINCE's peace.  Scilla: 
Thou honey talking father speak thy mind.  Usum: 
My Sulla scarce those tears are dried up,  
That Roman Matrons wept to see this war:  
Along the holy streets the hideous groans,  
Of murdered men infect the weeping air:  
Thy foes are fled not overtaken yet,  
And doubtful is the hazard of this war:  
Yea doubtful is the hazard of this war,  
For now our Legions draw their wasteful swords,  
To murder whom? even Roman Citizens.  
To conquer whom? even Roman Citizens.  
Then if that Sulla love these Citizens,  
If care of Rome, if threat of foreign foes,  
If fruitful counsels of thy forward friends  
May take effect, go fortunate and drive,  
The king of Pontus out of Asia,  
lest while we dream on civil mutinies,  
Our wary foes assail our City walls.  Pompey: 
My long concealed thoughts Mark Anthony,  
Must seek discovery through thy pliant words:  
Believe me Sulla civil mutinies,  
Must not obscure thy glories and our names:  
Then sith that factious Marius is suppressed,  
Go spread thy colours midst the Asian fields,  
meanwhile myself will watch this City's weal.  Scilla: 
Pompey I know thy love, I mark thy words,  
And Anthony thou hast a pleasing vain,  
But senators I hammer in my head,  
With every thought of honour some revenge:  Enter Lucretius with the head. 
Speak what shall Sulla be your General?  Lepidus: 
We do decree that Sulla shall be General:  Scilla: 
And wish you Sulla's weal and honour too?  Usum: 
We wish both Sulla's weal and honour too  Scilla: 
Then take away the scandal of this state,  
Banish the name of Tribune out of town,  
Proclaim false Marius and his other friends.  
Foe men and traitors to the state of Rome,  
And I will wend and work so much by force,  
As I will master false Mithridates,  Lepidus: 
The name of Tribune hath continued long.  Scilla: 
So shall not Lepidus if he withstand me.  
Sirrah you see the head of Granius,  
Watch you his hap unless you change your words,  
Pompey now please me Pompey grant my suit.  Pompey: 
Lictors proclaim this our undaunted doom,  
we will that Marius and his wretched sons,  
His friends Sulpitius, Claudius and the rest  
Beheld for traitors, and acquit the men  
That shall endanger there unlucky lines,  
And henceforth Tribunes name and state shall cease,  
Grave Senators how like you this decree?  Lepidus: 
even as our Consuls wish, so let it be.  Scilla: 
Then Lepidus all friends in faith for me,  
So leave I Rome to Pompey and my friends,  
Resolved to manage those our Asian wars,  
Frolic brave Soldiers we must foot it now,  
Lucretius you shall bide the brunt with me,  
Pompey farewell, and farewell Lepidus.  
mark Anthony I leave thee to thy books,  
study for Rome and Sulla's Royalty.  
But by my sword I wrong this graybeard's head,  
Go sirrah place it on the Capitol:  
A just promotion fit for Sulla's foe.  
Lordings farewell, come soldiers let us go. Exit.  Pompey: 
Sulla farewell and happy be thy chance,  
Whose war both Rome and Romans must advance.  Exeunt senators. Enter the Magistrates of Minturnum with Marius very melancholy, Lucius Favorinus, Pausanius with some attendants. Pausanius: 
My Lord the course of your unstaid fate,  
Made weak through that your late unhappy fight,  
Withdraws our wills that feign would work your weal:  
For long experience and the change of times,  
The innocent suppressions of the just  
In leaning to forsaken men's relief,  
Doth make us fear lest our unhappy town,  
should perish through the angry Romans sword.  Marius: 
Lords of Minturnum when I shaped my course,  
To fly the danger of pursuing death,  
I left my friends, and all alone attained  
(In hope of succours) to this little town,  
Relying on your courtesies and truth.  
What foolish fear doth then amaze you thus?  Favorinus: 
O Marius, thou thyself, thy son, thy friends,  
Are banished and exiles out of Rome,  
Proclaimed for traitors, rest of your estates,  
judged to death with certain warrantise.  
should then so small a town my Lord as this,  
Hazard their fortunes to supply your wants?  Marius: 
Why Citizens, and what is Marius?  
I tell you not so base as to despair,  
Yea able to withstand ingratitudes.  
Tell me of foolish laws decreed at Rome,  
To please the angry humours of my foe:  
Believe me Lords I know and am assured,  
That magnanimity can never fear,  
And fortitude so conquer silly fate,  
As Sulla when he hopes to have my head,  
May hap ere long on sudden lose his own.  Pausanius: 
A hope beseeming Marius, but I fear,  
Too strange to have a short and good event.  Marius: 
Why sir Pausanius have not you beheld,  
Campania plains fulfilled with greater foes,  
Than is that wanton milksop nature's scorn.  
Base minded men to live in perfect hope,  
Whose thoughts are shut within your cottage eves,  
Refuse not Marius that must favour you:  
For these are parts of unadvised men,  
With present fear to lose a perfect friend,  
That can, will, may control, command, subdue,  
That braving boy that thus bewitcheth you.  Fauorinus: 
How gladly would we succour you my Lord,  
But that we fear.  Marius: 
What? the Moonshine in the water.  
Thou wretched stepdame of my fickle state,  
Are these the guerdons of the greatest minds,  
To make them hope and yet betray their hap,  
To make them climb to overthrow them straight?  
accursed thy wreak, thy wrath, thy bale, thy wheel,  
That mak'st me sigh the sorrows that I feel.  
untrodden paths my feet shall rather trace,  
Than wrest my succours from inconstant hands.  
Rebounding Rocks shall rather ring my ruth,  
Than these Campanian piles where terrors bide.  
And nature that hath lift my throne so high,  
Shall witness Marius triumphs if he die.  
But she that gave the lictor's rod and axe,  
To wait my six times Consulship in Rome,  
will not pursue where erst she flattered so,  
Minturnum then farewell for I must go,  
But think for to repent you of your no.  Pausa: 
Nay stay my Lord and deign in private here,  
To weight a message of more better worth,  
Your age and travels must have some relief,  
And be not wroth, for greater men than we  
Have feared Rome and Roman tyranny.  Marius: 
You talk it now like men confirmed in faith,  
well let me try the fruits of your discourse,  
For care my mind and pain my body wrongs.  Pausanius: 
Then Favorinus shut his Lordship up,  
within some secret chamber in the state,  
meanwhile we will consult to keep him safe,  
And work some secret means for his supply.  Marius: 
Be trusty Lords, if not I can but die. Exit Ma.  Pausanius: 
Poor hapless Roman, little wottest thou,  
The weary end of thine oppressed life.  Lucius: 
Why my Pausanius, what imports these words?  Pausanius: 
Oh Lucius' age hath printed in my thoughts,  
A memory of many troubles past,  
The greatest towns and Lords of Asia,  
Have stood on tickle terms through simple truth,  
The Rhodian records well can witness this.  
Then to prevent our means of overthrow,  
Find out some stranger that may suddenly,  
Enter the chamber where as Marius lies,  
And cut him short, the present of whose head  
Shall make the Romans praise us for our truth,  
And Sulla priest to grant us privilege.  Lucius: 
A barbarous act to wrong the men that trust,  Pausanius: 
In country's cause in justice proveth just.  
Come Lucius let not silly thought of right,  
Subject our City to the Romans might:  
For why you know in Marius' only end,  
Rome will reward and Sulla will be friend,  Lucius: 
Yet all successions will us discommend. Exeunt.  Enter Marius the younger: Cethegus: Lectorius with other Roman Lords and soldiers. Young Marius: 
The way ward Lady of this wicked world.  
That leads in luckless triumph wretched men,  
My Roman friends hath forced our desires,  
And framed our minds to brook too base relief,  
What land or Libyan desert is unsought,  
To find my father Marius and your friend:  
Yea they whom true relent could never touch,  
These fierce Numidians hearing our mishaps,  
Weep floods of moan to wail our wretched fates.  
Thus we that erst with terrors did attaint,  
The Bactrian bounds and in our Roman wars,  
enforced the barbarous borderers of the Alps,  
To tremble with the terrors of our looks.  
Now fly poor men affrighted with our harms,  
Seeking amidst the desert rocks and dens,  
For him that whilom in our Capitol,  
Even with a beck commanded Asia.  
Thou woeful son of such a famous man,  
unsheath thy sword, conduct these warlike men  
To Rome, unhappy Mistress of our harms:  
And there since tyrant's power hath thee oppressed,  
And robbed thee of thy father, friends and all,  
So die undaunted, killing of thy foes,  
That were the offspring of these wretched woes.  Lectorius: 
Why how now Marius, will you mate us thus;  
That with content adventure for your love?  
Why Noble youth resolve yourself on this,  
That son and father both have friends in Rome  
That seek old Marius' rest and your relief.  Marius: 
Lectorius, friends are geason now adays,  
And grow to fume before they taste the fire:  
Adversities bereaving man's avails,  
They fly like feathers dallying in the wind,  
They rise like bubbles in a stormy rain,  
Swelling in words and flying faith and deeds.  Cethegus: 
How fortunate art thou my lovely Lord,  
That in thy youth mayst reap the fruits of age,  
And having lost occasions holdfast now,  
mayst learn hereafter how to entertain her well:  
But sudden hopes do swarm about my heart,  
Be merry Romans see where from the Coast,  
A weary messenger doth post him fast.  Enter Cinna's slave with a letter enclosed posting in haste. Lectorius: 
It should be Cinna's slave or else I err,  
For in his forehead I behold the scar,  
Wherewith he marketh still his barbarous swains.  Marius: 
Oh stay him good Lectorius for me seem,  
His great post hast some pleasure should present.  Lectorius: 
Sirrah art thou of Rome?  Slave: 
Perhaps Sir no?  Lectorius: 
Without perhaps say Sirrah is it so?  Slave: 
This is Lectorius Marius' friend I trow,  
Yet were I best to learn the certainty,  
Lest some dissembling foes should me descry.  Marius: 
Sirrah leave off this foolish dalliance,  
Lest with my sword I wake you from your trance.  slave: 
Oh happy man, Oh labours well achieved,  
How hath this chance my weary limbs revived:  
Oh Noble Marius, Oh Princely Marius.  Marius: 
what means this Peasant by his great rejoice.  slave: 
Oh worthy Roman, many months have passed,  
Since Cinna now the Consul and my Lord,  
Hath sent me forth to seek thy friends and thee:  
All Libya with our Roman Presidents,  
Numidia full of unfrequented ways,  
These weary limbs have trod to seek you out,  
And now occasion pitying of my pains,  
I late arrived upon this wished shore,  
Found out a sailor borne in Capua,  
That told me how your Lordship past this way,  Marius: 
A happy labour worthy some reward,  
How fares thy master? what's the news at Rome?  Slave. 
Pull out the pike from off this javelin top,  
And there are tidings for these Lords and thee,  Marius: 
A policy beseeming Cinna well:  Lectorius read, and break these letters up. 
Letters.  
To his honourable friend Marius the younger greeting.  
BEing Consul (for the welfare both of father and sun, with other thy accomplices) I have under an honest policy since my installment in the Consulship, caused all Sulla's friends that were indifferent with the other neighbouring Cities to revolt: Octavius my fellow Consul with the rest of the Senate mistrusting me, and hearing how I sought to unite the old Citizens with the new, hath wrought much trouble, but to no effect. I hope the soldiers of Capua shall follow our faction, for Sulla hearing of these hurly-burlies is hasting homeward very fortunate in his wars against Mithridates. And it is to be feared, that some of his friends here have certified him of my proceedings, and purpose to restore you. Cethegus and Lectorius I hear say are with you. Censorinus and Albinovanus will shortly visit you. Therefore haste and seek out your father, who is now as I hear about Minturnum. Levy what power you can with all expedition, and stay not.  
Rome the 5. Kalends of December.  
Your unfeigned friend, Cinna Consul.  Marius: 
Yea Fortune, shall young Marius climb aloft,  
Then woe to my repining foes in Rome,  
And if I live (sweet Queen of change) thy shrines,  
Shall shine with beauty midst the Capitol,  
Lectorius, tell me what were best be done.  Lector: 
To sea my Lord, seek your warlike Sire,  
Send back this peasant with your full pretence,  
And think already that our pains have end,  
Since Cinna with his followers is your friend.  Marius: 
Yea Romans we will furrow through the foam  
Of swelling floods, and to the sacred Twins  
Make sacrifice to shield our ships from storms.  
Follow me Lords, come gentle messenger,  
Thou shalt have gold and glory for thy pains. Exeunt.  
Finis secundi Acti.   

Actus tertius.  
Scena prima.  Enter Cynna, Octavius, Anthonius, Lictors, Citizens. Cyn: 
Upbraiding Senators bewitched with wit,  
That term true justice innovation:  
You ministers of Sulla's mad conceits,  
Will Consuls think you stoop to your controls?  
These younger Citizens, my fellow Lords,  
Bound to maintain both Marius and his son.  
Crave but their due, and will be held as good  
For privilege, as those of elder age:  
For they are men conformed to feats of arms,  
That have both wit and courage to command.  
These favourites of Octavius, what with age  
And palsies shake their javelins in their hands,  
Like heartless men attainted all with fear:  
And should they then overtop the youth.  
No, nor this Consul, nor Mark anthony,  
Shall make my followers faint, or lose their right,  
But I will have them equal with the best.  M. An: 
Why then the senate's name (whose reverence  
Hath blazed our virtues midst the Western I'll)  
Must be observed by Cinna's forced power.  
O Citizens, are laws of Country left?  
Is justice banished from this Capitol?  
Must we poor fathers see your trooping bands  
Enter the sacred synod of this state.  
Oh brutish fond presumptions of this age,  
Rome would the mischiefs might obscure my life,  
So I might counsel Consuls to be wise.  
Why Countrymen wherein consists this strife?  
Forsooth the younger Citizens will rule,  
The old men's heads are dull and addle now:  
And in elections youth will bear the sway?  
O Cinna, see I not the woeful fruits  
Of these ambitious stratagems begun,  
Each flattering tongue that dallieth pretty words,  
Shall change our fortunes and our states at once.  
Had I ten thousand tongues to talk the care,  
So many eyes to weep their woeful miss,  
So many pens to write these many wrongs:  
My tongue your thoughts, my eyes your tears should move,  
My pen your pains by reasons should approve.  Cynna: 
Why anthony, seal up those sugared lips,  
For I will bring my purpose to effect.  Anth: 
Doth Cinna like to interrupt me then?  Cynna: 
I Cinna sir, will interrupt you now,  
I tell thee Mark, old Marius is at hand,  
The very patron of this happy law,  
Who will revenge thy cunning eloquence.  Ma. An: 
I talk not I to please or him or thee,  
But what I speak, I think and practise too:  
'twere better Sulla learned to mend in Rome,  
Than Marius come to tyrannize in Rome.  Octa: 
Nay Marius shall not tyrannize in Rome,  
Old Citizens, as Sulla late ordained,  
King Tullius laws shall take their full effect,  
The best and aged men shall in their choice,  
Both bear the day and firm election.  Cynna: 
Oh brave Octavius you will beard me then,  
The elder Consul and old Marius' friend,  
And these Italian freemen must be wronged.  
First shall the fruit of all thine honours fail,  
And this my poniard shall dispatch thy life.  Lepid. 
Such insolence was never seen in Rome:  
Nought wanteth here but name to make a King.  Octa: 
Strike villain if thou list, for I am priest,  
To make as deep a furrow in thy breast.  Young Cit: 
The young men's voices shall prevail my lords.  Old Cit: 
And we will firm our honours by our bloods.  Thunder. Anth: 
O false ambitious pride in young and old:  
Hark how the heavens our follies hath controlled.  Old Cit: 
What shall we yield for this religious fear?  Anth: 
If not religious fear, what may repress  
These wicked passions, wretched Citizens.  
O Rome, poor Rome, unmeet for these misdeeds,  
I see contempt of heavens will breed a cross:  
Sweet Cinna govern rage with reverence.  Thunder. 
O fellow Citizens, be more advised.  Lepid. 
We charge you Consuls now dissolve the Court  
The Gods contemn this brawl and civil jars.  Oct: 
We will submit our honours to their wills:  
You ancient Citizens come follow me.  Exit Octavius, with him anthony & Lepidus. Cynna: 
High jove himself hath done too much for thee,  
Else should this blade abate thy royalty.  
Well young Italian Citizens take heart,  
He is at hand that will maintain your right:  
That entering in these fatal gates of Rome,  
Shall make them tremble that disturb you now.  
You of Preneste and of Formiae,  
With other neighbouring Cities in Campania,  
Prepare to entertain and succour Marius.  Citizen: 
For him we live, for him we mean to die.  Exe. Enter old Marius with his keeper, & two soldiers. Marius: 
Have these Minturnians then so cruelly,  
Presumed so great injustice 'gainst their friends?  Jailor: 
I Marius, all our Nobles have decreed  
To send thy head a present unto Rome.  Marius: 
A Tantal's present it will prove my friend,  
Which with a little smarting stress will end  
Old Marius' life, when Rome itself at last,  
Shall rue my loss, and then revenge my death.  
But tell me jailer, couldst thou be content,  
In being Marius for to brook this wrong.  Jailor: 
The high estate your Lordship once did wield,  
The many friends that fawned when fortune smiled,  
Your great promotions, and your mighty wealth:  
These (were I Marius) would amate me so,  
As loss of them would vex me more than death.  Marius: 
Is Lordship then so great a bliss my friend?  Jailor: 
No title may compare with princely rule.  Marius: 
Are friends so faithful pledges of delight?  Jailor: 
What better comforts than are faithful friends?  Marius: 
Is wealth a mean to lengthen lives content?  Jailor 
Where great possessions bide, what care can touch?  Marius: 
These stales of fortune are the common plagues  
That still mislead the thoughts of simple men.  
The shepherd swain that midst his country coat,  
Deludes his broken slumbers by his toil,  
Thinks Lordship sweet, where care with lordship dwelled  
The trustful man that builds on trothless vows,  
Whose simple thoughts are crossed with scornful nays,  
Together weeps the loss of wealth and friend:  
So Lordship, friends, wealth, spring and perish fast,  
Where death alone yields happy life at last.  
O gentle governor of my contents,  
Thou sacred chieftain of our Capitol,  
Who in thy crystal orbs with glorious gleams,  
Lendest looks of pity mixed with majesty,  
See woeful Marius' careful for his son,  
Careless of lordship, wealth or worldly means,  
Content to live, yet living still to die:  
Whose nerves and veins, whose sinews by the sword  
Must lose their workings through distempering stroke:  
But yet whose mind in spite of fate and all,  
Shall live by fame although the body fall.  Jailor 
Why mourneth Marius this recureless chance?  Mar: 
I pray thee jailer wouldst thou gladly die?  Jailor 
If needs, I would.  Mar: 
Yet were you loath to try.  Jailor 
Why noble Lord, when goods, friends, fortune fail  
What more than death might woeful man avail?  Mar: 
Who calls for death (my friend) for all his scorns,  
With Aesop's slave will leave his bush of thorns.  
But since these traitorous Lords will have my head,  
Their Lordships here upon this homely bed,  
Shall find me sleeping, breathing forth my breath;  
Till they their shame, and I my fame attain by death.  
Live gentle Marius to revenge my wrong,  
And sirrah see they stay not overlong.  
For he that erst hath conquered kingdoms many,  
Disdains in death to be subdued by any.  He lies down. Enter Lucius Favorinus, Pausanius, with Pedro, a Frenchman. Jailor 
The most undaunted words that ever were.  
The mighty thoughts of his imperious mind,  
Do wound my heart with terror and remorse.  Paus: 
'tis desperate, not perfect nobleness,  
For to a man that is prepared to die,  
The heart should rent, the sleep should leave the eye:  
But say Pedro, will you do the deed?  Pedr: 
Mon monsieurs perla sang dieu, me will make a trou so large in ce belly, dat he shall cry hough come une porceau. Featre delay, ill a true me father, he kill my mother. Faith a my troth mon espee: feral fay dun sol dat, Sau, sau, Ieieuera, come il founta pary, me will make a spitchcock of his persona.  Fauor: 
If he have slain thy father and thy friends,  
The greater honour shall betide the deed:  
For to revenge on righteous estimate,  
Beseems the honour of a French man's name.  Pedro: 
Mes monsieurs, de fault avoir argent, me no point de argent, no point kill Marius.  Paus: 
Thou shalt have forty crowns, will that content thee?  Pedro: 
Quarante escus, per le pied de Madam, me give more dan four to see pretty damsel, dat have le dulces tettinos, leleures cymbrines. Oh they be fines.  Favorinus: 
Great is the hire and little is the pain,  
Make therefore quick dispatch, and look for gain.  
See where he lies in drawing on his death,  
Whose eyes by gentle slumber sealed up,  
Present no dreadful visions to his heart.  Pedro: 
Bien monsieur, le demourera content. Maries tu es mort. Speak die preres in die sleep, for me sall cut off your head from your espaules before you wake. Qui es stia, what kind a man be dis.  Fauor: 
Why what delays are these, why gaze ye thus?  Pedr: 
Nostre dame, jesu estiene, oh my signiors der be a great diable in ce eyes, qui dart de flame, and with de voice d'un bear, cries out, Villain dare you kill Marius. je tremble: aida me signiors, autrement I shall be murdered.  Paus. 
What sudden madness daunts this stranger thus?  Pedro: 
Oh me no can kill Marius, me no dare kill Marius: adieu monsieurs, me be dead si je touch Marius, Marius est une diable. jesu Maria sava moy. Exit fugiens.  Paus. 
What fury haunts this wretch on sudden thus?  Fauor: 
Ah my Pausanius I have often heard,  
That yonder Marius in his infancy  
Was borne to greater fortunes than we deem:  
For being scarce from out his cradle crept,  
And sporting prettily with his compeers,  
On sudden seven young Eagles soared amain,  
And kindly perched upon his tender lap.  
His parents wondering at this strange event,  
Took counsel of the soothsayers in this,  
Who told them that these sevenfold eagle's flight,  
Fore figured his seven times Consulship:  
And we ourselves (except bewitched with pride)  
Have seen him six times in the Capitol  
Accompanied with rods and axes too.  
And some divine instinct so presseth me,  
That sore I tremble till I set him free.  Paus: 
The like assaults attaint my wandering mind.  
Seeing our bootless war with matchless fate,  
Let us entreat him to forsake our town,  
So shall we gain a friend of Rome and him:  Marius awaketh. 
But mark how happily he doth awake.  Mar: 
What, breath I yet poor man, with mounting sight  
Choking the rivers of my restless eyes?  
Or is their rage restrained with matchless ruth?  
See how amazed these angry Lords behold  
The poor confused looks of wretched Marius.  
Minturnians why delays your headsman thus  
To finish up this ruthful tragedy?  Favorinus: 
Far be it Marius from our thoughts or hands  
To wrong the man protected by the Gods:  
Live happy (Marius) so thou leave our town.  Marius: 
And must I wrestle once again with fate?  
Or will these Princes dally with mine age?  Pausan: 
No matchless Roman, thine approved mind  
That erst hath altered our ambitious wrong  
Must flourish still, and we thy servants live  
To see thy glories like the swelling tides  
Exceed the bounds of Fate and Roman rule.  
Yet leave us Lord, and seek some safer shed,  
Where more secure thou mayst prevent mishaps:  
For great pursuits and troubles thee await.  Marius: 
Ye piteous powers that with successful hopes,  
And gentle counsels thwart my deep despairs:  
Old Marius to your mercies recommends  
His hap, his life, his hazard and his son.  
Minturnians, I will hence, and you shall fly  
Occasions of those troubles you expect.  
Dream not on dangers that have fold my life:  
Lordings adieu, from walls to woods I wend,  
To hills, dales, rocks, my wrong for to commend. Exit.  Fauor: 
Fortune vouchsafe thy many cares to end. Exe.   

Actus tertius.  Enter Scilla in triumph in his char triumphant of gold, drawn by four moors, before the chariot: his colours, his crest, his captains, his prisoners: Arcathius Mithridates' son, Aristion, Archelaus, bearing crowns of gold, and manacled. After the chariot, his soldiers bands, Basillus, Lucretius, Lucullus: besides prisoners of divers Nations, and sundry disguises. SCilla: 
You men of Rome, my fellow mates in Arms,  
Whose three years prowess, policy, and war,  
One hundredth three score thousand men at Arms  
Hath overthrown and murdered in the field:  
Whose valours to the Empire hath restored,  
All Grecia, Asia, and jonia.  
With Macedonia subject to our foe:  
You see the froward customs of our state,  
Who measuring not our many toils abroad,  
Sit in their Cells imagining our harms,  
Replenishing our Roman friends with fear.  
Yea, Sulla worthy friends, whose fortunes, toils,  
And stratagems these strangers may report,  
Is by false Cinna and his factious friends.  
Reviled, condemned, and crossed without a cause.  
Yet (Romans) Marius must return to Rome,  
Of purpose to upbraid your General.  
But this undaunted mind that never drooped:  
This forward body formed to suffer toil,  
Shall haste to Rome where every foe shall rue,  
The rash disgrace both of myself and you:  Lucretius: 
And may it be that those seditious brains,  
Imagine these presumptuous purposes?  Scilla: 
And may it be? why man and wilt thou doubt,  
Where Sulla deigns these dangers to averse?  
Sirrah except not so, misdoubt not so,  
See here ancharius' letters read the lines,  
And say Lucretius that I favour thee,  
That darest but suspect thy General,  Read the letters and deliver them. Lucr. 
The case concealed hath moved the more misdoubt,  
Yet pardon my presumptions worthy Sulla,  
That to my grief have read these hideous harms,  Scilla: 
Tut my Lucretius, fortune's ball is tossed,  
To form the story of my fatal power:  
Rome shall repent, babe, mother, shall repent,  
Air weeping cloudy sorrows shall repent,  
wind breathing many sighings shall repent  
To see those storms concealed in my breast,  
Reflect the hideous flames of their unrest:  
But words are vain, and cannot quell our wrongs,  
Brief periods serve for them that needs must post it.  
Lucullus since occasion calls me hence,  
And all our Roman senate think it meet,  
That thou pursue the wars I have begun,  
As by their letters I am certified,  
I leave thee Fimbrias Legions to conduct,  
with this proviso, that in ruling still,  
You think on Sulla and his courtesies.  Lucullus: 
The weighty charge of this continued war,  
Though strange it seem, and over great to wield,  
I will accept it so the Army please.  soldiers: 
Happy & fortunate be Lucullus our General.  Scilla: 
If he be Sulla's friend, else not at all:  
For otherwise the man were ill bested,  
That gaining glories straight should lose his head.  
But soldiers since I needly must to Rome,  
Basillus virtues shall have recompense.  
Lo here the wreath Valerius for thy pains,  
Who first didst enter Archilous' trench:  
This pledge of virtue sirrah shall approve,  
Thy virtues, and confirm me in thy love.  Basillus: 
Happy be Sulla, if no foe to Rome.  Scilla: 
I like no iffs from such a simple groom,  
I will be happy in despite of state,  
And why? because I never feared fate.  
But come Arcathius for your father's sake,  
Enjoin your fellow Princes to their tasks,  
And help to succour these my weary bones.  
Tut blush not man, a greater state than thou,  
Shall pleasure Sulla in more baser sort.  
Aristion is a jolly timbered man,  
Fit to conduct the chariot of a King.  
Why be not squeamish, for it shall go hard,  
But I will give you all a great reward.  Arcath: 
Humbled by fate like wretched men we yield  Scilla: 
Arcathius these are fortunes of the field.  
Believe me these brave captives draw by art,  
And I will think upon their good desert.  
But stay you strangers, and respect my words,  
Fond heartless men, what folly have I seen:  
For fear of death can Princes entertain  
Such bastard thoughts, that now from glorious arms  
Vouchsafe to draw like oxen in a plough.  
Arcathius I am sure Mithridates  
Will hardly brook the scandal of his name:  
'twere better in Picaeo to have died  
Aristion, than amidst our legions thus to draw.  Aristion: 
I tell thee Sulla, captives have no choice,  
And death is dreadful to a caitiff man.  Scilla: 
In such imperfect metals as is yours.  
But Romans that are still allured by fame,  
Choose rather death than blemish of their name,  
But I have haste, and therefore will reward you.  
Go soldiers, with as quick dispatch as may be,  
Hasten their death, and bring them to their end,  
And say in this that Sulla is your friend.  Arcathius: 
Oh ransom thou our lives sweet conqueror.  Scilla: 
Fie foolish men, why fly you happiness,  
Desire you still to lead a servile life.  
Dare you not buy delights with little pains.  
Well, for thy father's sake Arcathius,  
I will prefer thy triumphs with the rest.  
Go take them hence, and when we meet in hell,  
Then tell me Princes if I did not well.  Exeunt milites. 
Lucullus, thus these mighty foes are down,  
Now strive thou for the king of Pontus' crown.  
I will to Rome, go thou, and with thy train,  
Pursue Mithridates till he be slain.  Lucul: 
With fortune's help, go calm thy country's woes  
Whilst I with these seek out our mighty foes.  Enter Marius solus from the Numidian mountains, feeding on roots. Mar: pat: 
Thou that hast walked with troops of flocking friends,  
Now wanderest midst the labyrinth of woes,  
Thy best repast with many sighing ends,  
And none but fortune all these mischiefs knows.  
Like to these stretching mountains clad with snow,  
No sunshine of content my thoughts approacheth:  
High spire their tops, my hopes no height do know,  
But mount so high as time their tract reproacheth:  
They find their spring, where winter wrongs my mind:  
They weep their brooks, I waste my cheeks with tears.  
Oh foolish fate, too froward and unkind,  
Mountains have peace, where mournful be my years:  
Yet high as they my thoughts some hopes would borrow,  
But when I count the evening end with sorrow.  
Death in Minturnum threatened Marius' head,  
Hunger in these Numidian mountains dwells:  
Thus with prevention having mischief fled,  
Old Marius finds a world of many hells.  
Such as poor simple wits have oft repined,  
But I will quell by virtues of the mind.  
Long years misspent in many luckless chances,  
Thoughts full of wrath, yet little worth succeeding,  
These are the means for those whom fate advances:  
But I, whose wounds are fresh, my heart still bleeding,  
Lives to entreat this blessed boon from fate,  
That I might die with grief to live in state.  
six hundredth sons with solitary walks,  
I still have sought for to delude my pain,  
And friendly Echo answering to my talks,  
Rebounds the accent of my ruth again:  
She (courteous Nymph) the woeful Roman pleaseth,  
Else no consorts but beasts my pains appeaseth.  
Each day she answers, in yond neighbouring mountain,  
I do expect reporting of my sorrow,  
Whilst lifting up her locks from out the fountain,  
She answereth to my questions even and morrow:  
Whose sweet rebounds my sorrows to remove,  
To please my thoughts I mean for to approve.  
Sweet Nymph draw near thou kind & gentle Echo. Echo.  
What help to ease my weary pains have I? I.  
What comfort in distress to calm my griefs? griefs.  
Sweet Nymph these griefs are grown before I thought so? I thought so.  
Thus Marius lives disdained of all the Gods. Oads.  
With deep despair late overtaken wholly. Oly.  
And will the heavens be never well appeased? appeased.  
What mean have they left me to cure my smart? art.  
Nought better fits old Marius' mind then war, than war.  
Then full of hope say Echo, shall I go? go.  
Is any better fortune than at hand, at hand.  
Then farewell Echo, gentle Nymph farewell. farewell.  
Oh pleasing folly to a pensive man.  
Well I will rest fast by this shady tree.  
Waiting the end that fate alotteth me. sit down.  Enter Marius the son, Albinovanus, Cethegus, Lectorius, with soldiers. Marius: 
My countrymen and favourites of Rome,  
This melancholy desert where we meet,  
Resembleth well young Marius restless thoughts.  
Here dreadful silence, solitary caves,  
No chirping birds with solace singing sweetly,  
Are harboured for delight: but from the oak  
Leafless and sapless through decaying age,  
The screech-owl chants her fatal boding lays.  
Within my breast, care, danger, sorrow dwells,  
Hope and revenge sit hammering in my heart,  
The baleful babes of angry Nemesis  
Disperse their furious fires upon my soul.  Lector: 
Fie Marius, are you discontented still,  
whenas occasion favoureth your desire?  
Are not these noble Romans come from Rome?  
Hath not the state recalled your father home?  Marius: 
And what of this, what profit may I reap,  
That want my father to conduct us home.  Lector: 
My Lord, take heart, no doubt this stormy flaw  
That Neptune sent to cast us on this shore.  
Shall end these discontentments at the last.  Mar: pat: 
Whom see mine eyes, what is not yond my son?  Mar: iu: 
what solitary father walketh there?  Mar: pa: 
It is my son, these are my friends I see:  
what have forepining cares, so changed me?  
Or are my looks; distempered through the pains  
And agonies that issue from my heart?  
Fie Marius, frolic man, thou must to Rome,  
There to revenge thy wrongs and weight thy tomb.  Marius iu: 
Now fortune frown, & palter if thou please,  
Romans behold my father and your friend.  
Oh father.  Marius pa: 
Marius thou art fitly met:  
Albinovanus and my other friends,  
What news at Rome? what fortune brought you hither?  Albino: 
My Lord, the Consul Cinna hath restored  
The doubtful course of your betrayed state,  
And waits you present swift approach to Rome,  
Your foe man Sulla posteth very fast,  
With good success from Pontus to prevent  
Your speedy entrance into Italy.  
The neighbouring Cities are your very friends,  
Nought rests my Lord, but you depart from hence.  Mar: iu: 
How many desert ways hath Marius sought,  
How many Cities have I visited,  
To find my father, and relieve his wants?  Marius pat: 
My son, I quite thy travels with my love,  
And Lords and Citizens we will to Rome,  
And join with Cinna have your shipping here?  
What are these soldiers bent to die with me?  Soldier 
Content to pledge our lives for Marius.  Lect: 
My Lord, here in the next adjoining port,  
Our ships are rigged and ready for to sail.  Marius pa: 
Then let us sail unto Hetruria,  
And cause our friends the Germans to revolt,  
And get some Tuscans to increase our power.  
Deserts farewell come Romans let us go,  
A scourge for Rome that hath depressed us so, Exeunt.   

Actus quartus. Scena prima.  Enter Mark anthony, Lepidus, Octavius, Flaccus, Senators. Octa. 
WHat helps my Lords to overhaul these cares?  
What means or motions may these mischief end?  
You see how Cinna that should succour Rome,  
Hath levied arms to bring a traitor in.  
O worthless traitor, woe to thine and thee,  
That thus disquieteth both Rome and us.  Anth: 
Octavius these are scourges for our sins,  
These are but ministers to heap our plagues:  
These mutinies are gentle means and ways,  
Whereby the heavens our heavy errors charms,  
Then with content and humbled eyes, behold  
The crystal shining globe of glorious jove:  
And since we perish through our own misdeeds,  
Go let us flourish in our fruitful prayers.  Lepid: 
Midst these confusions mighty men of Rome,  
Why waste we out these troubles all in words,  
Weep not your harms, but wend we straight so arms,  
Lo Distia spoiled, see Marius at our gate:  
And shall we die like milksops dreaming thus?  Octa: 
A bootless war to see our country spoiled.  Lep: 
fruitless is dalliance whereas dangers be.  Anth: 
My Lord, may courage wait on conquered men?  Lep: 
I even in death most courage doth appear.  Octa: 
Then waiting death I mean to seat me here,  
Hoping that consuls name and fear of laws,  
Shall justify my conscience and my cause,  Enter a messenger. 
Now sirrah, what confused looks are these,  
What tidings bringest thou of dreariment?  Messen: 
My Lords, the Consul Cinna with his friends  
Have let in Marius by Via Appia,  
Whose soldiers waste and murder all they meet,  
Who with the Consul and his other friends  
With expedition hasteth to this place.  Anth: 
Then to the downfall of my happiness,  
Then to the ruin of this City Rome.  
But if mine inward ruth were laid in sight,  
My streams of tears should drown my foe's despite.  Octa: 
Courage Lord Anthony, if Fortune please,  
She will and can these troubles soon appease.  
But if her backward frowns approach us nigh,  
Resolve with us with honour for to die.  Lep: 
No storm of fate shall bring my sorrows down,  
But if that Fortune list, why let her frown.  Anth: 
Where state's oppressed by cruel tyrants be,  
Old Anthony, there is no place for thee.  Drum strike within: 
Hark, by this thundering noise of threatening drums,  
Marius with all his faction hither comes.  Enter Marius, his Son, Cynna, Cethegus, Lectorius with soldiers: upon sight of whom Mark Anthony presently flies. Octa: 
Then like a traitor he shall know ere long,  
In levying arms he doth his country wrong.  Marius pa: 
And have we got the goal of honour now,  
And in despite of Consuls entered Rome?  
Then rouse thee Marius, leave thy ruthful thoughts:  
And for thy many toils and cares sustained,  
Afflict thy foes with twice as many pains.  
Go soldiers seek out Bebius and his friends,  
Attilius, Munitorius with the rest,  
Cut off their heads, for they did cross me once:  
And if your care can compass my decree,  
Remember that same fugitive Mark Anthony,  
Whose fatal end shall be my fruitful peace.  
I tell thee Cinna, nature armeth beasts  
With just revenge, and lendeth in their kinds  
Sufficient warlike weapons of defence:  
If then by nature beasts revenge their wrong,  
Both heavens and nature grant me vengeance now,  
Yet whilst I live and suck this subtle air  
That lendeth breathing coolness to my lights,  
The register of all thy righteous acts,  
Thy pains, thy toils, thy travels for my sake,  
Shall dwell by kind impressions in my heart,  
And I with links of true unfeigned love  
Will lock these Roman favourites in my breast,  
And live to hazard life for their relief.  Cyn: 
My Lord, your safe and swift return to Rome,  
Makes Cinna fortunate and well apaid,  
Who through the false suggestions of my foes,  
Was made a coffer of a Consul here:  
Lo where he sits commanding in his throne,  
That wronged Marius, me, and all these Lords.  Mar: iu: 
To quite his love, Cinna let me alone,  
How fare these Lords that lumping pouting proud  
Imagine how to quell me with their looks.  
No welcome sirs, is Marius thought so base?  
Why stand you looking babies in my face?  
Who welcomes me, him Marius makes his friend:  
Who lowers on me, him Marius means to end.  Flaccus: 
Happy and fortunate thy return to Rome.  Lepidus: 
And long Marius live with fame in Rome.  Marius: 
I thank you courteous Lords that are so kind.  Mar: iu: 
But why endures your Grace that braving mate  
To sit and face us in his robes of state.  Mar: pa: 
My son he is a Consul at the least,  
And gravity becomes Octavius best.  
But Cinna would in yonder empty seat,  
You would for Marius' freedom once entreat.  Cynna presseth up, and Octavius stayeth him. Octa: 
avant thou traitor, proud and insolent,  
How darest thou press new civil government.  Mar: 
Why Master Consul, are you grown so hot?  
He have a present cooling card for you.  
Be therefore well advised, and move me not:  
For though by you I was exiled from Rome,  
And in the desert from a PRINCE's seat  
Left to bewail ingratitudes of Rome.  
Though I have known your thirsty throats have longed  
To baine their selves in my distilling blood.  
Yet Marius Sirs, hath pity joined with power:  
Lo here the Imperial Ensign which I wield,  
That waveth mercy to my wishers well:  
And more see here the dangerous troth of war,  
That at the point is steeled with ghastly death.  Octa: 
Thou exile, threatenest thou a Consul then?  
Lictors, go draw him hence: such braving mates,  
Are not to boast their arms in quiet states.  Marius: 
Go draw me hence. What no relent Octavius?  Mar: iu: 
My Lord what heart indurate with revenge,  
Could leave this lozel, threatening murder thus?  
Vouchsafe me leave to taint that traitor's seat  
With flowing streams of his contagious blood.  Octa: 
The father's son, I know him by his talk,  
That scolds in words when fingers cannot walk.  
But jove I hope will one day send to Rome  
The blessed Patron of this Monarchy,  
Who will revenge injustice by his sword.  Cynna: 
Such braving hopes, such cursed arguments,  
So strict command, such arrogant controls.  
Suffer me Marius, that am Consul now,  
To do thee justice, and confound the wretch.  Mar: pat: 
Cinna, you know I am a private man,  
That still submit my censures to your will.  Cynna: 
Then soldiers draw this traitor from the throne,  
And let him die, for Cinna will it so.  Mar: iu: 
I now my Cinna, noble Consul speaks,  
Octavius, your checks shall cost you dear.  Octa: 
And let me die for Cinna will it so?  
Is then the reverence of this rob contemned?  
Are these associates of so small regard?  
Why then Octavius willingly consents,  
To entertain the sentence of his death.  
But let the proudest traitor work his will,  
I fear no strokes, but here will sit me still.  
Since justice sleeps, since tyrant's reign in Rome,  
Octavius longs for death to die for Rome.  Cyn: 
Then strike him where he sits, then hale him hence.  A soldier stabs him, he is carried away. Octa: 
heavens punish Cinna's pride and thy offence.  Cynna: 
Now is he fallen that threatened Marius,  
Now will I sit and plead for Marius.  Mar: pat: 
Thou dost me justice Cinna, for you see  
These peers of Rome have late exiled me.  Lepid: 
Your Lordship doth injustice to accuse  
Those who in your behalf did not offend.  Flacc. 
We grieve to see the aged Marius  
Stand like a private man in view of Rome.  Cyn: 
Then bid him sit, and lo an empty place,  
Revoke his exile, firm his government,  
And so prevent your farther detriment,  Lepid: 
We will account both Marius and his friends,  
His son and all his followers free in Rome:  
And since we see the dangerous times at hand,  
And here of Sulla's confidence and haste,  
And know his hate and rancor to these Lords,  
And him create for Consul to prevent  
The policies of Sulla and his friends.  Cyn: 
Then both confirmed by state and full consent,  
The rods and axe to Marius I present,  
And here invest thee with the consuls pall.  Flaccus: 
Long, fortunate and happy life betide  
Old Marius in his sevenfold Consulship.  Mar: iu: 
And so let Marius live and govern Rome,  
As cursed Sulla never look on Rome.  Marius pat: 
Then placed in consul's throne, you Roman states  He takes his seat. 
Recalled from banishment by your decrees,  
installed in this imperial seat to rule,  
Old Marius thanks his friends and favourites:  
From whom this final favour he requires,  
That seeing Sulla by his murderous blade  
Brought fierce seditions first to head in Rome,  
And forced laws to banish innocents:  
I crave by course of reason and desert,  
That he may be proclaimed as erst was I,  
A traitor and an enemy of Rome:  
Let all his friends be banished out of town:  
Then cutting off the branch where troubles spring,  
Rome shall have peace and plenty in her walls.  Cynn: 
In equity it needs must be my friends,  
That one be guilty of our common harms:  
And since that Marius is accounted free,  
Sulla with all his friends must traitors be.  Mar: iu: 
My father's reasons Romans are of force:  
For if you see and live not too secure,  
You know that in so great a state as this,  
Two mighty foes can never well agree.  Lepid: 
Then let us seek to please our Consul first,  
And then prepare to keep the exile out.  
Cinna, as Marius and these Lords agree,  
Firm this Edict, and let it pass for me.  Cynnn: 
Then Romans, in the name of all this state,  
I here proclaim and publish this decree:  
That Sulla with his friends, allies and all,  
Are banished exiles, traitors unto Rome.  
And to extinguish both his name and state,  
We will his house be razed to the ground,  
His goods confiscate: this our censures is.  
Lictors proclaim this in the market place,  
And see it executed out of hand. Exit Lictor.  Mar: pat: 
Now see I Senators, the thought, the care,  
The virtuous zeal that leads your toward minds,  
To love your friends and watch your common good:  
And now established Consul in this place,  
Old Marius will foresee advenient harms:  
Sulla the scourge of Asia as we hear  
Is priest to enter italy with sword,  
He comes in pomp to triumph here in Rome,  
But Senators you know the wavering wills,  
Of foolish men I mean the common sort,  
Who through report of innovations,  
Or flattering humours of well tempered tongues,  
Will change and draw a second mischief on:  
I like your care, and will myself apply  
To aim and level at my country's weal.  
To intercept these errors by advice,  
My son young Marius, Cethegus and my friends,  
Shall to Preneste to prevent and stop  
The speedy purpose of our forward foe.  
meanwhile ourselves will fortify this town,  
This beauty of the world, this maiden town,  
Where streaming Tibris with a pleasant tide,  
Leads out the stately buildings of the world.  
Marius my hope, my son, you know your charge,  
Take those Iberian legions in your train,  
And we will spare some Cymbrians to your use,  
Remember thou art Marius' son, and dream  
On nought but honour and a happy death.  Mar: iu: 
I go my Lord in hope to make the world  
Report my service, and my duty too,  
And that proud challenger of Asia,  
Shall find that Marius' son hath force and wit.  Exit cum Cethego. Marius pat: 
Go thou as fortunate as Greeks to Troy  
As glorious as Alcides in thy toils,  
As happy as Sertorius in thy fight,  
As valiant as Achilles in thy might.  
Go glorious, valiant, happy, fortunate,  
As all those Greeks and him of Roman state.  Enter led in with soldiers Cornelia and Fuluia. Corn: 
Traitors why drag you thus a PRINCE's wife,  
As if that beauty were a thrall to fate.  
Are Romans grown more barbarous than Greeks,  
That hale more greater than Cassandra now?  
The Macedonian Monarch was more kind,  
That honoured and relieved in warlike camp  
Darius' mother, daughters and his wife,  
But you unkind to Roman Ladies now,  
Perhaps as constant as the Asian Queens,  
For they subdued had friendship in disgrace,  
Where we unconquered live in woeful case.  Mar: 
What plaintiff Physnomy presents that Lady there?  
Why soldiers, make you prisoners here in Rome?  Soldier 
Dread Consuls, we have found Cornelia here,  
And Sulla's daughter posting out of town.  Marius: 
Ladies of worth, both beautiful and wise,  
But here allied unto my greatest foe:  
Yet Marius' mind that never meant disgrace,  
More likes their courage than their comely face.  
Are you Cornelia madam, Sulla's wife?  Corn: 
I am Cornelia Sulla's wife: what there?  Marius: 
And is this Fulvia Sulla's daughter too?  Fuluia: 
And this is Fulvia Sulla's daughter too.  Mar: pat: 
Two welcome guests in whom the majesty  
of my conceit and courage must consist:  
What think you Senators and countrymen?  
See here are two the fairest stars of Rome,  
The dearest dainties of my warlike foe,  
Whose lives upon your censures do consist.  Lepid: 
Dread Consul the continuance of their lives,  
Shall egg on Sulla to a greater haste.  
And in bereaving of their vital breath,  
Your grace shall force more fury from your foe:  
Of these extremes we leave the choice to you.  Mar: 
Then think that some strange fortune shall ensue,  Ful: 
Poor Fulvia, now thy happy days are done,  
In steed of marriage pomp, the fatal lights  
Of funerals must mask about thy bed.  
Nor shall thy father's arms with kind embrace  
Hem in thy shoulders trembling now for fear.  
I see in Marius looks such tragedies,  
As fear my heart, and fountains fills mine eyes.  Corn: 
Fie Fulvia, shall thy father's daughter faint  
Before the threats of dangers shall approach?  
Dry up those tears, and like a Roman maid,  
Be bold and silent till our foe have said.  Marius: 
Cornelia wise unto my traitor foe?  
What gadding mood hath forced thy speedy slight,  
To leave thy country, and forsake thy friends?  Corn: 
Accursed Marius, offspring of my pains,  
Whose furious wrath hath wrought thy country's woe:  
What may remain for me or mine in Rome,  
That see the tokens of thy tyrannies?  
Vile monster, robbed of virtue, what revenge  
Is this, to wreak thine anger on the walls?  
To race our house, to banish all our friends,  
To kill the rest, and captive us at last?  
Thinkst thou by barbarous deeds to boast thy state,  
Or spoiling Sulla to depress his hate?  
No Marius, but for every drop of blood  
And inch of wrong he shall return thee two.  Flaccus: 
madam, in danger wisdom doth advise,  
In humble terms to reconcile our foes.  Marius: 
She is a woman Flaccus, let her talk,  
That breath forth bitter words instead of blows,  Corn: 
And in regard of that unmodest man,  
Thou shouldst desist from outrage and revenge.  Lect: 
What, can your Grace endure these cursed scoffs!  Mar: 
Why my Lectorius, I have ever learned,  
That Ladies cannot wrong me with upbraids.  
Then let her talk, and my concealed hate,  
Shall heap revengement upon Sulla's pate.  Fulu: 
Let fevers first afflict thy feeble age,  
Let palsies make thy stubborn fingers faint,  
Let humours streaming from thy moistened brains  
With clouds of dimness choke thy fretful eyes,  
Before these monstrous harms assail my sire,  Mar: 
By'r Lady Fulvia, you are gaily red,  
Your mother well may boast you for her own,  
For both of you have words and scoffs at will:  
And since I like the compass of your wit,  
myself will stand, and Ladies you shall sit:  
And if you please to wade in farther words,  
Let's see what brawls your memories affords.  Corn: 
Your Lordship's passing mannerly in jest,  
But that you may perceive we smell your drift,  
We both will sit and countenance your shift.  Mar: 
Where constancy and beauty do consort,  
There Ladies threatenings turned to merry sport.  
How fare these beautiful, what well at ease?  Ful: 
As ready as at first for to displease.  
For full confirmed that we shall surely die,  
We wait our ends with Roman constancy.  Mar: 
why think you Marius hath confirmed your death!  Ful: 
What other fruit may spring from tyrant's hands!  Mar: 
In faith then Ladies, thus the matter stands,  
Since you mistake my love and courtesy,  
Prepare yourselves, for you shall surely die.  Cornel: 
I Marius, now I know thou dost not lie:  
And that thou mayst unto thy lasting blame,  
Extinguish in our deaths thy wished fame.  
Grant us this boon that making choice of death,  
We may be freed from fury of thine ire,  Marius: 
An easy boon, Ladies I condescend,  Corn: 
Then suffer us in private chamber close  
To meditate a day or two alone:  
And tyrant if thou find us living then,  
Commit us straight unto thy slaughtering men.  Marius: 
Ladies I grant, for Marius nill deny,  
A suit so easy, and of such import:  
For pity were that Dames of constancy,  
Should not be agents of their misery.  Here he whispers Lectorius. 
Lectorius, hark, dispatch. Exit. Lector.  Corn: 
Lo Fulvia, now the latest doom is fixed,  
And nought remains but constant Roman hearts,  
To bear the brunt of irksome furies spite,  
Rouse thee my dear, and daunt those faint conceits,  
That trembling stand aghast at bitter death:  
Bethink thee now that Sulla was thy sire,  
Whose courage heaven nor fortune could abate.  
Then like the offspring of fierce Sulla's house,  
Pass with the thrice renowned Phrygian Dame,  
As to thy marriage, so unto thy death:  
For nought to wretches is more sweet than death.  Ful: 
Madam confirmed as well to die as live,  
Fulvia awaiteth nothing but her death.  
Yet had my father known the course of change,  
Or seen our loss by lucky augury,  
This tyrant nor his followers had lived,  
To joy the ruin of fierce Sulla's house.  Mar: 
But Lady, they that dwell on fortunes call,  
No sooner rise, but subject are to fall.  Ful: 
Marius I doubt not but our constant ends,  
Shall make thee wail thy tyrant's government.  Marius: 
When tyrants rule doth breed my care & woe  
Then will I say two Ladies told me so.  
But here comes Lectorius,  
Now my Lord, have you brought those things.  Lector: 
I have noble Consul.  Mar: 
Now Ladies, you are resolute to die.  Corn: 
I Marius, for terror cannot daunt us:  
tortures were framed to dread the baser eye,  
And not t'appall a princely majesty.  Marius: 
And Marius lives to triumph o'er his foes,  
That train where warlike troops amidst the plains,  
And are enclosed and hemmed with shining arms,  
Not to appall such princely Majesty.  
Virtue sweet Ladies is of more regard  
In Marius' mind where honour is enthroned,  
Than Rome or rule of Roman Empery.  Here he puts chains about their necks: 
The bands that should combine your snow white wrists,  
Are these which shall adorn your milk white necks:  
The private cells where you shall end your lives,  
Is Italy, is Europe, nay the world:  
Th'Euxinian sea, and fierce Sicilian Gulf,  
The river Ganges and Hydaspis stream,  
shall level lie, and smooth as crystal ice:  
Whilst Fulvia and Cornelia pass thereon:  
The soldiers that should guard you to your deaths,  
Shall be five thousand gallant youths of Rome,  
In purple robes cross bard with pales of gold,  
Mounted on warlike coursers for the field,  
Fet from the mountain tops of Cortia,  
Or bred in hills of bright Sardinia,  
Who shall conduct and bring you to your Lord,  
I unto Sulla Ladies shall you go,  
And tell him Marius holds within his hands,  
Honor for Ladies, for ladies' rich reward,  
But as for Sulla and for his compeers  
Who dare 'gainst Marius vaunt their golden crests,  
Tell him for them old Marius holds revenge,  
And in his hands both triumphs life and death.  Corn: 
Doth Marius use with glorious words to jest,  
And mock his captives with these glozing terms?  Mar: 
No Ladies, Marius hath sought for honour with his sword,  
And holds disdain to triumph in your falls.  
Live Cornelia, live fair and fairest Fulvia:  
If you have done or wrought me injury,  
Sulla shall pay it through his misery.  Fuluia: 
So gracious (famous Consul) are thy words,  
That Rome and we shall celebrate thy worth,  
And Sulla shall confess himself o'ercome.  Corn: 
If lady's prayers or tears may move the heavens,  
Sulla shall vow himself old Marius' friend.  Mar: 
Ladies for that I nought at all regard,  
Scilla's my foe, I'll triumph over him,  
For other conquest glory doth not win.  
Therefore come on, that I may send you unto Sulla, Exeunt  Enter a clown drunk with a pint of wine in his hand, and two or three soldiers. 1 soldier 
Sirrah, dally not with us, you know where he is.  Clown: 
O sir, a quart is a quart in any man's purse, and drink is drink, and can my master live without his drink I pray you?  2 soldier 
You have a master then sirrah?  Clown: 
Have I master thou scoundrel? I have an Orator to my master, a wise man to my master. But fellows, I must make a parenthesis of this pint pot, for words make men dry: now by my troth I drink to Lord anthony.  3 soldier 
Fellow soldiers, the weakness of his brain hath made his tongue walk largely, we shall have some novelties by and by.  Clown: 
Oh most surpassing wine, thou marrow of the vine,  
More welcome unto me, than whips to scholars be,  
Thou art and ever was a means to mend an ass,  
Thou makest some to sleep, and many more to weep,  
And some be glad & merry, with heigh down derry, derry.  
Thou makest some to stumble, and many more to fumble:  
And me have pinky nine, more brave and jolly wine:  
What need I praise thee more, for thou art good with heigh ho  3 soldier 
If wine then be so good, I pray thee for thy part,  
Tell us where Lord Anthony is, & thou shalt have a quart.  Clow. 
First shall the snow be black, & pepper lose his smack  
And stripes forsake my back, first merry drunk with sack,  
I will go boast and track, and all your costards crack,  
Before I do the knack shall make me sing alack:  
Alack the old man is weary, for wine hath made him merry: with a heigh ho.  1 soldier 
I pray thee leave these rhymes, and tell us where thy master is.  Clown: 
Faith where you shall not be unless ye go with me. But shall I tell them so? O no sir, no, no, no, the man hath many a foe, as far as I do know: you do not flower me I trow. See how this liquor fumes, & how my force presumes. You would know where Lord anthony is? I perceive you. Shall I say he is in yond farm house? I deceive you. Shall I tell you this wine is for him? the gods forfend, and so I end. Go fellow fighters there's a bob for ye.  2 soldier 
My masters, let us follow this clown, for questionless this grave orator is in yonder farm house. But who cometh yonder?  Enter old anthony. Anth: 
I wonder why my peasant stays so long,  
And with my wonder hasteth on my woe,  
And with my woe I am assailed with fear,  
And by my fear await with faintful breath  
The final period of my pains by death.  1 soldier 
Yond's the man we seek for (soldiers) unsheath your swords, and make a riddance of Marius' ancient enemy.  Clown: 
Master fly, fly, or else you shall die: a plague on this wine hath made me so fine, and will you not be gone, then I'll leave you alone, and sleep upon your woe, with a lamentable heigh ho. Exit.  Anth: 
Betrayed at last by witless oversight,  
Now Anthony, prepare thyself to die:  
Lo where the monstrous ministers of wrath  
Menace thy murder with their naked swords.  2 soldier 
anthony well met, the Consul Marius with other confederate Senators, have adjudged thee death, therefore prepare thyself, and think we favour thee in this little protraction.  Anth: 
Immortal powers that know the painful cares,  
That weight upon my poor distressed heart,  
O bend your brows and level all your looks  
Of dreadful awe upon these daring men.  
And thou sweet niece of Atlas on whose lips  
And tender tongue, the pliant Muses sit,  
Let gentle course of sweet aspiring speech,  
Let honey flowing terms of weary woe,  
Let fruitful figures and delightful lines  
Enforce a spring of pity from their eyes,  
Amaze the murderous passions of their minds,  
That they may favour woeful anthony.  
Oh countrymen what shall become of Rome,  
When reverend duty droopeth through disgrace?  
Oh Countrymen, what shall become of Rome,  
When woeful nature widow of her joys,  
Weeps on our walls to see her laws depressed?  
Oh Romans hath not Anthony's discourse,  
Sealed up the Mouths of false seditious men,  
Assoiled the doubts and quaint controls of power;  
relieved the mournful matron with his pleas?  
And will you seek to murder anthony?  
The Lions brook with kindness their relief,  
The sheep reward the shepherd with their fleece:  
Yet Romans seek to murder Anthony.  1 soldier 
Why what enchanting terms of art are these?  
That force my heart to pity his distress.  2 soldier 
His action, speech, his favour, and his grace,  
My rancour rage and rigor doth deface.  3 soldier 
So sweet his words that now of late me seems  
His art doth draw my soul from out my lips.  Anth: 
What envious eyes reflecting nought but rage,  
What barbarous heart refreshed with nought but blood,  
That rends not to behold the senseless trees  
In doaly season drooping without leaves?  
The shepherd sighs upon the barren hills  
To see his bleating lambs with faintful looks.  
Behold the valleys robbed of springing flowers,  
That whilom wont to yield them yearly food.  
even meanest things exchanged from former state,  
The virtuous mind with some remorse doth mate.  
Can then your eyes with thundering threats of rage,  
Cast furious gleams of anger upon age?  
Can then your hearts with furies mount so high,  
As they should harm the Roman anthony?  
I far more kind than senseless tree have left  
A kindly sap to our declining state,  
And like a careful shepherd have foreseen  
The heavy dangers of this City Rome,  
And made the citizens the happy flock  
Whom I have fed with counsels and advice,  
But now those locks that for their reverend white,  
Surpass the down on Aesculapius chin:  
But now that tongue whose terms and fluent style  
For number past the hosts of heavenly fires:  
But now that head within whose subtle brains  
The Queen of flowering eloquence did dwell:  Enter a Captain. 
These locks, this tongue, this head, the life and all,  
To please a tyrant traitorously must fall.  Captain 
Why how now soldiers is he living yet?  
And will you be bewitched with his words?  
Then take this fee false Orator from me, stab him.  
Elysium best beseems thy faintful limbs.  Anth: 
Oh blissful pain, now Anthony must die,  
Which served and loud Rome and her Empery. moritur  Captain 
Go curtal off that neck with present stroke,  
And straight present it unto Marius.  1 soldier 
even in this head did all the Muses dwell:  
The bees that sat upon the Grecians lips,  
distilled their honey on his tempered tongue.  2 soldier 
The crystal dew of fair Castalian springs,  
With gentle floatings trickled on his brains:  
The Graces kissed his kind and courteous brows,  
Apollo gave the beauties of his harp,  Enter Lectorius pensive. 
And melodies unto his pliant speech.  Cap: 
Leave these presumptuous praises, countrymen,  
And see Lectorius pensive where he comes,  
Lo here my Lord the head of Anthony,  
See here the guerdon fit for Marius' foe,  
Whom dread Apollo prosper in his rule.  Lector: 
Oh Romans, Marius sleeps among the dead,  
And Rome laments the loss of such a friend.  Cap: 
A sudden and a woeful chance my Lord,  
Which we intentive fain would understand.  Le: 
Though swollen with sighs my heart for sorrow burst,  
And tongue with tears and plaints be choked up,  
Yet will I furrow forth with forced breath  
A speedy passage to my pensive speech.  
Our Consul Marius, worthy soldiers,  
Of late within a pleasant plot of ground,  
Sat down for pleasure here a crystal spring,  
Accompanied with many Lords of Rome:  
Bright was the day, and on the spreading trees  
The frolic citizens of forest lung  
Their lays and merry notes on perching boughs:  
When suddenly appeared in the East,  
seven mighty Eagles with their talents fierce,  
Who waving oft about our consuls head,  
At last with hideous cry did scare away.  
When suddenly old Marius all aghast,  
With reverent smile determined with a sigh  
The doubtful silence of the standers by.  
Romans (said he) old Marius now must die.  
These seven fair Eagles, birds of mighty jove,  
That at my birth day on my cradle sat,  
Now at my last day arm me to my death:  
And lo I feel the deadly pangs approach.  
What should I more? in brief, with many prayers  
For Rome, his son, his goods and lands disposed,  
Our worthy Consul to our wonder died.  
The City is amazed, for Sulla hasts  
To enter Rome with fury, sword, and fire.  
Go, place that head upon the Capitol,  
And to your wards, for dangers are at hand. Exit.  Captain 
Had we foreseen this luckless chance before,  
Old anthony had lived and breathed yet. Exeunt.   

Actus quartus.  A great skirmish in Rome and long, some slain. At last enter Scilla triumphant with Pompey, Metellus, Citizens, soldiers. Scilla: 
Now Romans after all these mutinies,  
Seditions, murders, and conspiracies,  
Imagine with unpartial hearts at last  
What fruits proceed from these contentious brawls?  
Your streets, where erst the fathers of your state  
In robes of purple walked up and down,  
Are strewed with mangled members, streaming blood.  
And why? the reasons of this ruthful wrack,  
Are your seditious innovations,  
Your fickle minds inclined to foolish change.  
Ungrateful men, whilst I with tedious pain  
In Asia sealed my duty with my blood,  
Making the fierce Dardanians faint for fear,  
Spreading my colours in Galatia,  
Dipping my sword in the Enetans blood,  
And foraging the fields of Phocida.  
You called my foe from exile with his friends,  
You did proclaim me traitor here in Rome,  
You rased my house, you did deface my friends,  
But brawling wolves, you cannot bite the moon,  
For Sulla lives so forward to revenge,  
As woe to those that sought to do me wrong.  
I now am entered Rome in spite of force,  
And will so hamper all my cursed foes,  
As be he Tribune, Consul, Lord or Knight  
That hateth Sulla, let him look to die.  
And first to make an entrance to mine ire,  
Bring me that traitor Carbo out of hand.  Bring in Carbo bound. Pomp. 
Oh Sulla, in revenging injuries,  
Inflict the pain where first offence did spring,  
And for my sake establish peace in Rome,  
And pardon these repentant Citizens.  Scilla: 
Pompey, I love thee Pompey, and consent  
To thy request, but Romans have regard,  
lest overreaching in offence again,  
I load your shoulders with a double pain.  Exeunt Citizens. 
But Pompey see where jolly Carbo comes  
Footing it featly, like a mighty man,  
What no obeisance sirrah to your Lord?  
My Lord? No Sulla, he that thrice hath borne  
The name of Consul scorns to stoop to him,  
Whose heart doth hammer nought but mutinies.  Pomp: 
And doth your Lordship then disdain to stoop  Carbo: 
I to mine equal Pompey as thou art.  Scilla: 
Thine equal villain, no he is my friend,  
Thou but a poor anatomy of bones,  
Cased in a knavish tawny withered skin:  
Wilt thou not stoop? art thou so stately then?  Carbo: 
Sulla, I honour gods, not foolish men.  Sci: 
Then bend that withered bough that will not break  
And soldiers cast him down before my feet: They throw him down.  
Now prating sir, my foot upon thy neck,  
He be so bold to give your Lordship check.  
Believe me soldiers, but I overreach,  
Old Carbo's neck at first was made to stretch.  Carbo: 
Though body bend, thou tyrant most unkind,  
Yet never shalt thou humble Carbo's mind.  Scilla: 
oh sir, I know for all your warlike pith,  
A man may mar your worship with a with.  
You sirrah levied arms to do me wrong:  
You brought your legions to the gates of Rome:  
You fought it out in hope that I would faint.  
But sirrah now betake you to your books,  
Entreat the God to save your sinful soul.  
For why this carcase must in my behalf  
Go feast the ravens that serve our augurs turn.  
methinks I see already how they wish,  
To bait their beaks in such a jolly dish.  Carbo: 
Sulla thy threats and scoffs amate me not:  
I pray thee let thy murderers have me hence,  
For Carbo rather likes to die by sword,  
Than live to be a mocking stock to thee.  Scilla: 
The man hath hast good soldiers take him hence,  
It would be good to alter his pretence.  
But be advised, that when the fool is slain,  
You part the head and body both in twain.  
I know that Carbo longs to know the cause,  
And shall: thy body for the ravens, thy head for daws.  Carbo: 
O matchless ruler of our Capitol,  
Behold poor Rome with grave and piteous eye,  
Fulfilled with wrong and wretched tyranny.  Exit Carbo cum militibus. Enter Scipio and Norbanus, Publius Lentulus. Seill: 
Tut the proud man's prayer will never pierce the sky.  
But whether press these mincing Senators?  Norbanus: 
We press with prayers, we come with mournful tears,  
Entreating Sulla by those holy bands  
That links fair juno with her thundering jove,  
Even by the bounds of hospitality,  
To pity Rome afflicted through thy wrath.  
Thy soldiers (Sulla) murder innocents.  
O whither will thy lawless fury stretch,  
If little ruth ensue thy country's harms.  Scilla: 
Gay words Narbonus, full of eloquence,  
Accompanied with action and conceit.  
But I must teach thee judgement therewithal.  
Dar'st thou approach my presence that hast borne  
Thine arms inspite of Sulla and his friends?  
I tell thee foolish man thy judgement wanted  
In this presumptuous purpose that is past:  
And loitering scholar, since you fail in art,  
I'll learn you judgement shortly to your smart.  
Dispatch him soldiers, I must see him die.  
And you Carinna, Carbo's ancient friend,  
Shall follow straight your heedless General.  
And Scipio were it not I loud thee well.  
Thou shouldst accompany these slaves to hell:  
But get you gone, and if you love yourself, Exit Scipio,  Carinna: 
Pardon me Sulla, pardon gentle Sulla.  Scilla: 
Sirrah, this gentle name was coined too late,  
And shadowed in the shrouds of biting hate.  
Dispatch: why so, good fortune to my friends,  
As for my foes, even such shall be their ends.  
Convey them hence Metellus, gentle Metellus,  
Fetch me Sertorius from Iberia,  
In doing so, thou standest me in stead,  
For sore I long to see the traitor's head.  Metell: 
I go confirmed to conquer him by sword,  
or in th' exploit to hazard life and all.  Scilla: 
Now Pompey let me see, those Senators  
Are dangerous stops of our pretended state,  
And must be curtailed lest they grow too proud,  
I do proscribe just forty Senators,  
Which shall be leaders in my tragedy.  
And for our Gentlemen are over proud,  
Of them a thousand and six hundredth die,  
A goodly army meet to conquer hell.  
soldiers perform the course of my decree,  
Their friends my foes, their foes shall be my friends,  
Go sell their goods by trumpet at your wills,  
meanwhile Pompey shall see and Rome shall rue,  
The miseries that shortly shall ensue.  Exit. Alarum skirmish a retreat, enter young Marius upon the walls of Preneste with some soldiers all in black and wonderful melancholy. Marius: 
Oh endless course of needy man's avail,  
What silly thoughts, what simple policies  
makes man presume upon this traitorous life?  
Have I not seen the depth of sorrow once,  
And then again have kissed the Queen of chance,  
Oh Marius thou Tillitius and thy friends,  
Hast seen thy foe discomfited in fight.  
But now the stars have formed my final harms,  
My father Marius lately dead in Rome,  
My foe with honour doth triumph in Rome,  
My friends are dead and banished from Rome,  
I Marius' father friends more blessed then thee:  
They dead, I live, I thralled they are free,  
Here in Preneste am I cooped up,  
Amongst a troup of hunger starved men.  
Set to prevent false Sulla's fierce approach.  
But now exempted both of life and all.  
Well Fortune since thy fleeting change, hath cast  
Poor Marius from his hopes and true desires,  
My resolution shall exceed thy power,  
Thy coloured wings steeped in purple blood,  
Thy blinding wreath distained in purple blood,  
Thy royal Robes washed in my purple blood  
Shall witness to the world thy thirst of blood,  
And when the tyrant Sulla shall expect  
To see the son of Marius stoop for fear,  
Then then, Oh then my mind shall well appear,  
That scorn my life and hold mine honour dear.  Alarum a retreat. 
Hark how these murderous Roman viperlike,  
Seek to betray their fellow Citizens,  
Oh wretched world from whence with speedy slight,  
True love, true zeal, true honour late is fled.  Soldier 
What makes my Lord so careless and secure,  
To leave the breach and here lament alone?  Mar: 
Not fear my friend for I could never fly,  
But study how with honour for to die,  
I pray thee call the chiefest Citizens.  
I must advise them in a weighty cause,  
Here shall they meet me and until they come,  
I will go view the danger of the breach.  Exit Marius and the soldiers. Enter with drum and soldiers Lucretius with other Romans as Tuditanus &c. Lucretius: 
Say Tuditanus, didst thou ever see  
So desperate defence as this hath been:  Tudit: 
As in Numidia Tigers wanting food,  
Or as in Libya Lions full of ire,  
So fare these Romans on Preneste walls.  Lucret: 
Their valour Tuditanus and resist,  
The man like fight of younger Marius,  
Makes me amazed to see their miseries,  
And pity them although they be my foes.  
What said I foes? O Rome with ruth I see  
Thy state consumed through folly and dissension.  
Well sound a parle, I will see if words  
Can make them yield, which will not fly for strokes?  Sound a parley, Marius upon the walls with the Citizens. Marius: 
What seeks this Roman warrior at our hands?  Lucr: 
That seeks he Marius, that he wisheth thee:  
An humble heart, and then a happy peace.  
Thou seest thy fortunes are depressed and down,  
Thy victuals spent, thy soldiers weak with want,  
The breach laid open ready to assault,  
Now since thy means and maintenance are done,  
Yield Marius, yield, Prenestians be advised,  
Lucretius is advised to favour you.  
I pray thee Marius mark my last advice.  
Relent in time, let Sulla be thy friend:  
So thou in Rome mayst lead a happy life,  
And those with thee shall pray for Marius still.  Mar: 
Lucretius, I consider on thy words,  
Stay there a while thou shalt have answer straight.  Lucretius: 
Apollo grant that my persuasions may,  
Preserve these Roman soldiers from the sword.  Marius: 
My friends and citizens of Preneste town,  
You see the wayward working of our stars,  
Our hearts confirmed to fight, our victuals spent.  
If we submit, it's Sulla must remit,  
A tyrant, traitor, enemy to Rome,  
Whose heart is guarded still with bloody thoughts.  
These flattering vows Lucretius here avows,  
Are pleasing words to colour poisoned thoughts.  
What will you live with shame, or die with fame?  1 Cit: 
A famous death, my Lord delights us most.  2 Cit: 
We of thy faction (Marius) are resolved  
To follow thee in life and death together.  Marius: 
Words full of worth, beseeming noble minds  
The very Balsamum to mend my woes.  
Oh countrymen, you see Campania spoiled,  
A tyrant threatening mutinies in Rome,  
A world despoiled of virtue, faith and trust.  
If then no peace, no liberty, no faith,  
Conclude with me, and let it be no life.  
Live not to see your tender infants slain,  
These stately towers made level with the land,  
This body mangled by our enemy's sword:  
But full resolved to do as Marius doth,  
unsheath your poniards, and let every friend,  
Bethink him of a soldierlike farewell.  
Sirrah, display my standard on the walls,  
And I will answer yond Lucretius,  
Who loveth Marius, now must die with Marius.  Luer: 
What answer will your Lordship then return us?  Marius: 
Lucretius, we that know what Sulla is,  
How dissolute, how trothless and corrupt:  
In brief conclude to die before we yield:  
But so to die (Lucretius mark me well)  
As loath to see the fury of our swords  
Should murder friends and Roman citizens.  
Pie countrymen, what fury doth infect  
Your warlike bosoms, that were wont to fight  
With foreign foes, not with Campanian friends?  
Now unadvised youth must counsel eld:  
For governance is banished out of Rome.  
Woe to that bough from whence these blooms are sprung,  
Woe to that Aetna, vomiting this fire:  
Woe to that brand, consuming country's weal:  
Woe to that Sulla, careless and secure,  
That gapes with murder for a Monarchy.  
Go second Brutus with a Roman mind,  
And kill that tyrant: and for Marius' sake  
Pity the guiltless wives of these your friends,  
Preserve their weeping infants from the sword,  
Whose fathers seal their honours with their bloods.  
Farewell Lucretius, first I press in place stab.  
To let thee see a constant Roman die,  
Prenestians, lo a wound, a fatal wound,  
The pain but small, the glory passing great. again.  
Prenestians see a second stroke: why so.  
I feel the dripping dimness of the night,  
Closing the coverts of my careful eyes.  
Follow me friends: for Marius now must die  
With fame, in spite of Sulla's tyranny. moritur.  1 Cit: 
We follow thee our chieftain even in death,  
Our town is thine Lucretius: but we pray  
For mercy for our children and our wives. moritur.  2 Cit: 
O save my form Lucretius, let him live, moritur.  Lucretius: 
A wondrous and bewitched constancy,  
Beseeming Marius' pride and haughty mind,  
Come let us charge the breach, the town is ours  
Both male and female put them to the sword:  
So please you Sulla, and fulfil his word. Exeunt  A little skirmish, a retreat: enter in royalty Lucretius. Lucret: 
Now Romans we have brought Preneste low,  
And Marius sleeps amidst the dead at last.  
So then to Rome my countrymen with joy,  
Where Sulla waits the tidings of our fight,  
Those prisoners that are taken, see forth with  
With warlike javelins you put them to death.  
Come let us march, see Rome in sight my hearts,  
Where Sulla waits the tidings of our war.  Enter Scilla, Valerius Flaccus: Lepidus, Pompey, Citizens Guard: Scilla seated in his robes of state is saluted by the Citizens, &c. Flascus: 
Romans you know, and to your griefs have seen  
A world of troubles hatched here at home,  
Which through prevention being well-nigh crossed  
By worthy Sulla and his warlike band:  
I Consul with these fathers think it meet  
To fortify our peace and City's weal,  
To name some man of worth that may supply  
dictator's power and place, whose majesty  
Shall cross the courage of rebellious minds,  
What think you Romans, will you condescend?  Scilla: 
Nay Flaccus, for their profits they must yield,  
For men of mean condition and conceit  
Must humble their opinions to their lords,  
And if my friends and Citizens consent  
Since I am borne to manage mighty things,  
I will (though loath) both rule and govern them.  
I speak not this as though I wish to reign,  
But for to know my friends: and yet again  
I merit Romans far more grace than this.  Flaccus: 
I countrymen, if Sulla's power and mind  
If Sulla's virtue courage and device,  
If Sulla's friends and fortunes merit fame,  
None then but he should bear dictator's name.  Pompey: 
What think you Citizens, why stand ye mute?  
Shall Sulla be Dictator here in Rome?  Citizens: 
By full consent Sulla shallbe Dictator.  Flaccus: 
Then in the name of Rome I here present  
The rods and axes into Sulla's hand,  
And fortunate prove Sulla our Dictator.  Trumpets sound: cry within Scilla Dictator. Scilla: 
My fortunes Flaccus cannot be impeached,  
For at my birth the planets passing kind  
Could entertain no retrograde aspects.  
And that I may with kindness quite their love,  
My countrymen I will prevent the cause,  
'gainst all the false encounters of mishap.  
You name me your Dictator, but prefix  
No time, no course, but give me leave to rule,  
And yet exempt me not from your revenge:  
Thus by your pleasures being set aloft,  
Straight by your furies I should quickly fall.  
No Citizens, who readeth Sulla's mind,  
Must form my titles in another kind.  
Either let Sulla be Dictator ever,  
Or flatter Sulla with these titles never.  Citizens: 
Perpetual be thy glory and renown,  
Perpetual Lord Dictator shalt thou be.  Pompey: 
Hereto the Senate frankly doth agree.  Scilla: 
Then so shall Sulla reign you Senators,  
Then so shall Sulla rule you Citizens:  
As Senators and Citizens that please me  
Shall be my friends, the rest cannot disease me.  Enter Lucretius with soldiers. 
But see whereas Lucretius is returned.  
Welcome brave Roman where is Marius?  
Are these Prenestians put unto the sword.  Lucre: 
The City noble Sulla razed is,  
And Marius dead not by our swords my Lord,  
But with more constancy than Cato died,  Scilla: 
What constancy and but a very boy,  
Why then I see he was his father's son,  
But let us have this constancy described.  Lucr: 
After our fierce assaults, and their resist,  
Our siege, their sallying out to stop our trench:  
Labour and hunger raining in the town,  
The younger Marius on the cities wall,  
vouchsafed an interparle at the last:  
Wherein with constancy and courage too,  
He boldly armed his friends himself to death:  
And spreading of his colours on the wall,  
For answer said he could not brook to yield,  
Or trust a tyrant such as Sulla was.  Scilla: 
What did the brainsick boy upbraid me so?  
But let us hear the rest Lucretius.  Lucre: 
And after great persuasions to his friends  
And worthy resolution of them all:  
He first did sheathe his poniard in his breast,  
And so in order died all the rest.  Scilla: 
Now by my sword this was a worthy jest,  
Yet silly boy I needs must pity thee,  
Whose noble mind could never mated be,  
Believe me countrymen a sudden thought,  
A sudden change in Sulla now hath wrought.  
Old Marius and his son were men of name,  
Nor Fortune's laughs, nor lours their minds could tame,  
And when I count their fortunes that are past,  
I see that death confirmed their fames at last.  
Then he that strives to manage mighty things,  
Amidst his triumphs gains a troubled mind.  
The greatest hope the greater harm it brings:  
And poor men in content their glory find.  
If then content be such a pleasant thing,  
Why leave I country life to live a king?  
Yet Kings are Gods and make the proudest stoop,  
Ye but themselves are still pursued with hate:  
And men were made to mount and then to droop,  
Such chances wait upon incertain fate,  
That where she kisseth once she quelleth twice,  
Then who so lives content is happy wise.  
What motion moveth this Philosophy?  
Oh Sulla see the Ocean ebbs and floats.  
The spring-time wanes when winter draweth nigh.  
ay, these are true and most assured notes.  
Inconstant chance such tickle turns hath left.  
As who so fears no fall, must seek content.  Flaceus: 
Whilst graver thoughts of honour should allure thee  
What maketh Sulla muse and mutter thus?  scilla: 
I that have passed amidst the mighty troops  
Of armed legions through a world of war,  
Do now bethink me Flaccus on my chance,  
How I alone where many men were slain,  
In spite of Fate am come to Rome again,  
And so I wield the reverend styles of state,  
Yea, Sulla with a beck could break thy neck,  
What Lord of Rome hath dared as much as I?  
Yet Flaccus know'st thou not that I must die?  
The labouring sisters on the weary Looms,  
Have drawn my web of life at length, I know:  
And men of wit must think upon their tombs.  
For beast's wit careless steps to Lethe:  
Where men whose thoughts and honours, climb on high,  
Living with fame, must learn, with fame to die.  Pomp: 
What let's my Lord in governing this state,  
To live in rest, and die with honour too?  Scilla: 
What lets me Pompey? why my courteous friend,  
Can he remain secure that wields a charge?  
Or think of wit when flatterers do commend?  
Or be advised that careless runs at large?  
No Pompey, honey words makes foolish minds,  
And power the greatest wit with error blinds.  
Flaccus, I murdered anthony thy friend,  
Romans: some here have lost at my command  
Their Fathers, Mothers, Brothers, and Allies,  
And think you Sulla thinking these misdeeds,  
Be thinks not on your grudges and mislike?  
Yes Countrymen I bear them still in mind.  
Then Pompey were I not a silly man,  
To leave my Rule and trust these Romans then?  Pompey: 
Your Grace hath small occasions of mistrust,  
Nor seek these Citizens for your disclaim.  scilla: 
But Pompey now these reaching plumes of pride,  
That mounted up my fortunes to the Clouds,  
By grave conceits shall straight be laid aside,  
And Sulla thinks of far more simple shrouds.  
For having tried occasion in the throne,  
I'll see if she dare frown when state is gone.  
Lo senators, the man that sat aloft,  
Now deigns to give inferiors highest place.  
Lo here the man whom Rome repined oft,  
A private man, content to brook disgrace,  
Romans, lo here the axes, rods and all,  
I'll master fortune, lest she make me thrall.  
Now who so list accuse me, tell my wrongs,  
Upbraid me in the presence of this state.  
Is none these jolly Citizens among,  
That will accuse or say I am ingrate.  
Then will I say and boldly boast my chances,  
That nought may force the man whom Fate advances.  Flaccus: 
what meaneth Sulla in this sullen mood,  
To leave his titles on the sudden thus?  scilla: 
Consul I mean with calm and quiet mind,  
To pass my days while happy death I find.  Pomp: 
What greater wrong, than leave thy country so?  scilla: 
Both it and life must Sulla leave in time.  Cit: 
Yet during life have care of Rome and us.  scilla: 
O wanton world that flatter'st in thy prime,  
And breathest balm and poison mixed in one.  
See how these wavering Romans wished my reign,  
That whilom I am sought and sought to have me slain,  
My Countrymen this City wants no store  
Of Father's warriors to supply my room,  
So grant me peace and I will die for Rome.  Enter two Burghers to them poppy and curtal. curtal: 
These are very indiscreet counsels neighbour poppy, and I will follow your misadvisement.  poppy: 
I tell you goodman curtal the wench hath wrong, oh vain world, oh foolish men, could a man in nature cast a wench down, and disdain in nature to lift her up again? could he take away sir dishonesty without bouncing up the banes of matrimony? oh learned Poet well didst thou write Fustian verse.  
These maids are daws that go to the laws and a babe in the belly.  Cur: 
Tut man 'tis the way the world must follow, for maids must be kind, good husbands to find.  poppy: 
But mark the fierce if they swell before, it will grieve them sore. but see yond's Master Sulla, faith a pretty fellow is a.  Scilla: 
what seeks my countrymen? what would my friends?  Curt: 
Nay sir your kind words shall not serve the turn, why think you to thrust your soldiers into our kindred with your courtesies sir.  poppy: 
I tell you Master Sulla my neighbour will have the Law, he had the right he will have the wrong for therein dwells the Law.  Consul: 
what desires these men of Rome?  Cur: 
Neighbour sharpen the edge toll of your wits upon the whetstone of indiscretion that your words may shave like the razors of Palermo, you have learning with ignorance therefore speak my tale.  Popp: 
Then worshipful Master Sulla, be it known unto you, that my neighbours daughter Doritie was a maid of restority, fair fresh and fine as a merry cup of wine. Her eyes like two potched eggs, great and goodly her legs, but mark my doleful ditty, alas for woe and pity: a soldier of yours upon a bed of flowers, gave her such a fall, as she lost maidenhead and all. And thus in very good time I end my rudeful time.  Scilla: 
And what of this my friend, why seek you me,  
Who have resigned my titles and my state  
To live a private life as you do now?  
Go move the Consul Flaccus in this cause,  
Who now hath power to execute the laws.  curtal: 
And are you no more Master dix cator, nor Generality of the soldiers?  Scilla: 
My powers do cease, my titles are resigned,  curtal: 
Have you signed your titles? O base mind, that being in the Paul's steeple of honour, hast cast thyself into the sink of simplicity. Fie beast, were I a king, I would day by day suck up white bread and milk, and go a jetting in a jacket of silk, my meat should be the curds, my drink should be the whey, and I would have a mincing lass to love me every day.  poppy: 
Nay goodman curtal, your discretions are very simple, let me cramp him with a reason. Sirrah, whether is better good ale or small beer? Alas see his implicity that cannot answer me: why I say ale.  curtal: 
And so say I neighbour.  poppy: 
Thou hast reason, ergo say I 'tis better be a King than a clown. Faith master Sulla, I hope a man may now call ye knave by authority.  Scilla: 
With what impatience hear I these upbraids  
That whilom plagued the least offence with death.  
Oh Sulla these are stales of destiny,  
By some upbraids to try thy constancy.  
My friends these scorns of yours perhaps will move,  
The next Dictator shun to yield his state,  
For fear he find as much as Sulla doth.  
But Flaccus, to prevent their further wrong,  
Vouchsafe some Lictor may attach the man,  
And do them right that thus complain abuse.  Flaccus: 
Sirrah, go you and bring the soldier  
That hath so loosely leaned to lawless lust,  
We will have means sufficient be assured  
To cool his heat, and make the wanton chaste.  curtal: 
We thank your mastership: come neighbour, let us jog, faith this news will set my daughter dorothy a gog. Exeunt cum Lictore.  Scilla: 
Grave Senators and Romans, now you see  
The humble bent of Sulla's changed mind.  
Now will I leave you Lords, from courtly train  
To dwell content amidst my country cave,  
Where no ambitious humours shall approach,  
The quiet silence of my happy sleep.  
Where no delicious jouissance or toys,  
Shall tickle with delight my tempered ears,  
But wearying out the lingering day with toil,  
tiring my veins and furrowing of my soul.  
The silent night with slumber stealing on  
Shall lock these careful closets of mine eyes.  
Oh had I known the height of happiness,  
Or bent mine eyes upon my mother earth:  
Long since O Rome had Sulla with rejoice  
Forsaken arms to lead a private life.  Flaccus: 
But in this humbleness of mind my Lord,  
Whereas experience proved and Art do meet.  
How happy were these fair Italian fields,  
If they were graced with so sweet a sun:  
Then I for Rome and Rome with me requires,  
That Sulla will abide and govern Rome.  Scilla: 
O Flaccus, if th'Arabian Phoenix strive  
By nature's warning to renew her kind,  
When soaring nigh the glorious eye of heaven,  
She from her cinders doth revive her sex.  
Why should not Sulla learn by her to die?  
That erst have been the Phoenix of this land.  
And drawing near the sunshine of content,  
Perish obscure to make your glories grow.  
For as the higher trees do shield the shrubs,  
From posting Phlegon's warmth and breathing fire,  
So mighty men obscure each other's fame,  
And make the best deservers fortune's game.  Enter Genius. 
But ah what sudden furies do affright?  
What apparitious fantasies are these?  
Oh let me rest sweet Lords, for why methinks,  
Some fatal spells are sounded in mine ears.  Genius: 
Subsequitur tua Mors: privari lumine Scillam,  
Numina Parcarumiam iam fera precipiunt.  
Precipiunt fera iam Parcarum numina, Scillam,  
Lumine privari, mors tua subsequitur,  
Elysium petis, o foelix! & fatidici astri:  
Praescius Heroas, o petis innumeros!  
Innumeros petis ô Heroas! praescius astri  
Fatidici: & foelix, o petis Elysium!  Euanescit subitò. Scilla: 
Ergóne post dulces annos properantia fata?  
Ergóne iam tenebrae pramia lucis erunt?  
Attamen, vt vitae fortunam gloria mortis  
Vincat, in extremo funere cantet olor.  Pom: 
How fares my Lord? what dreadful thoughts are these  
What doubtful answers on a sudden thus?  Scilla: 
Pompey the man that made the world to stoop,  
And fettered fortune in the chains of power,  
Must droop and draw the Chariot of Fate  
Along the darksome banks of Acheron.  
The heavens have warned me of my present fall.  
Oh call Cornelia forth, let Sulla see  
His daughter Fulvia ere his eyes be shut.  Exit one for Cornelia. Flaccus: 
Why Sulla, where is now thy wonted hope  
In greatest hazard of unstaid chance?  
What shall a little biting blast of pain  
Blemish the blossoms of thy wonted pride?  Scilla: 
My Flaccus, worldly joys and pleasures fade,  
In constant time like to the fleeting tide  
With endless course man's hopes doth overbear?  
Nought now remains that Sulla fain would have,  
But lasting fame when body lies in grave.  Enter Cornelia, Fuluia. Cornelia: 
How fares my Lord? how doth my gentle Sulla?  Scilla: 
Ah my Cornelia passing happy now.  
Free from the world, allied unto the heavens,  
Not curious of incertain chances now.  Cornelia: 
Words full of woe still adding to my grief,  
A cureless cross of many hundredth harms.  
Oh let not Rome and poor Cornelia lose,  
The one her friend, the other her delight.  scilla: 
Cornelia, man hath power by some instinct  
And gracious revolution of the stars,  
To conquer kingdoms not to master fate:  
For when the course of mortal life is run,  
Than Clotho ends the web her sister spun.  
Pompey, Lord Flaccus, fellow senators,  
In that I feel the faintful dews of death  
steeping mine eyes within their chilly wet,  
The care I have of wife and daughter both,  
Must on your wisdoms happily rely,  
With equal distribution see you part,  
My lands and goods betwixt these lovely twain,  
Only bestow a hundred thousand Sesterces,  
Upon my friends and fellow soldiers.  
Thus having made my final testament,  
Come Fulvia let thy father lay his hand,  
Upon thy lovely bosom and entreat  
A virtuous boon and favour at thy hands.  
Fair Roman maid, see that thou wed thy fairs,  
To modest virtuous and delightful thoughts:  
Let Rome in viewing thee behold thy sire,  
Honour Cornelia from whose fruitful womb,  
Thy plenteous beauties sweetly did appear,  
And with this Lesson lovely maid farewell.  Fuluia: 
oh tedious and unhappy chance for me.  scilla: 
Content thee Fulvia, for it needs must be.  
Cornelia I must leave thee to the world,  
And by those loves that I have lent thee oft,  
In mutual wedlock rites and happy war.  
Remember Sulla in my Fulvia still:  
Consul farewell, my Pompey I must hence,  
And farewell Rome, and Fortune now I bless thee,  
That both in life and death wouldst not oppress me, dies.  Cornelia: 
oh hideous storms of never daunted fate,  
Now are those eyes whose sweet reflections cold  
The smothered rancours of rebellious thoughts  
Clad with the sable mantles of the night.  
And like the tree that robbed of sun and showers  
Mourns desolate withouten leaf or sap:  
so poor Cornelia late bereft of love,  
Sits sighing, hapless, joyless and forlorn.  Fuluia: 
Gone is the flower that did adorn our fields,  
Fled are those sweet reflections of delight,  
Dead is my Father, Fulvia dead is he  
In whom thy life, for whom thy death must be.  Flaccus: 
Ladies, to tire the time in restless moan  
Were tedious unto friends and nature too,  
Sufficeth you that Sulla so is dead,  
As fame shall sing his power though life be fled.  Pompey: 
Then to conclude his happiness my Lords,  
Determine where shall be his Funeral.  Lepidus: 
even there where other Nobles are interred.  Pompey: 
Why Lepidus what Roman ever was,  
That merited so high a name as he?  
Then why with simple pomp and funeral  
Would you entomb so rare a paragon?  Corn: 
An urn of gold shall hem his ashes in,  
The Vestal virgins with their holy notes  
Shall sing his famous (though too fatal) death,  
I and my Fulvia with dispersed hair  
Will weight upon this noble Romans hearse.  Fuluia: 
And Fulvia clad in black & mournful pale  
Will weight upon her father's funeral.  Pomp: 
Come bear we hence this trophy of renown,  
Whose life, whose death was far from fortune's frown,  Exeunt omnes. The Funerals of Scilla in great pomp. 

Deo iuvante, nil nocet livor malus:  
Et non iuvante nil juuat labor gravis.   
FINIS.