THE ROMAN ACTOR. A tragedy. As it hath diverse times been with good allowance Acted, at the private Playhouse in the Blackfriars, by the king's majesty's Servants.  
WRITTEN By PHILIP MASSINGER.  
LONDON. Printed by B. A. and T. F. for ROBERT ALLOT, and are to be sold at his Shop at the sign of the Bear in Paul's Church-yard. 1629.   


The persons presented.  
Domitianus Caesar.  
Paris the Tragedian.  
Parthenius a freeman of Caesar's.  
AElius, Lamia, and Stephanos.  
junius Rusticus.  
Aretinus Clemens, Caesar's spy.  
AEsopus a Player.  
Philargus a rich Miser.  
Palphurius Sura, a Senator  
Latinus a Player.  
3. Tribunes.  
2. Lictors.  
Domitia the wife of AElius Lamia.  
Domitilla cousin germane to Caesar.  
julia Titus' Daughter.  
Caenis, Vespasian's Concubine.   

The principal Actors.  
JOHN LOWIN.  
JOSEPH TAYLOR.  
RICHARD SHARP.  
THOMAS POLLARD.  
ROBERT BENFIELD.  
EYLLARDT SWANSTONE.  
RICHARD ROBINSON.  
ANTHONY SMITH.  
WILLIAM PATTRICKE.  
CVRTISE GREVILL.  
GEORGE VERNON.  
JAMES horn.  
JOHN TOMPSON.  
JOHN HUNNIEMAN.  
WILLIAM TRIGGE.  
ALEXANDER GOUGH.    

To my much Honoured, and most true Friends, Sir PHILIP KNYVET, Knight and Baronet. And to Sir THOMAS JEAY, Knight. And THOMAS BELLINGHAM of Newtimber in Sussex Esquire.  
HOw much I acknowledge myself bound for your so many, & extraordinary favours conferred upon me, as far as it is in my power posterity shall take notice, I were most unworthy of such noble friends, if I should not with all Thankfulness, profess, and own 'em. In the composition of this tragedy you were my only Supporters, and it being now by your principal encouragement to be turned into the world, it cannot walk safer, than under your protection. It hath been happy in the suffrage of some learned, and judicious Gentlemen when it was presented, nor shall they find cause I hope in the perusal, to repent them of their good opinion of it. If the gravity and height of the subject distaste such as are only affected with jigs, and ribaldry (as I presume it will,) their condemnation of me, and my Poem, can no way offend me: my reason teaching me such malicious, and ignorant detractors deserve rather cöntempt, than satisfaction. I ever held it the most perfect birth of my Minerva; and therefore, in justice offer it to those that have best deserved of me, who I hope in their courteous acceptance will render it worth their receiving, and ever, in their gentle construction of my imperfections, believe they may at their pleasure dispose of him, that is wholly, and sincerely  Devoted to their service. Philip Massinger.  


To his dear Friend the Author.  
I Am no great admirer of the Plays,  
Poets, or Actors, that are now adays:  
Yet in this Work of thine methinks I see  
Sufficient reason for Idolatry.  
Each line thou hast taught CEASAR is, as high  
As He could speak, when grovelling Flattery,  
And His own pride (forgetting Heavens rod)  
By His Edicts styled himself great Lord and God.  
By thee again the Laurel crown His Head;  
And thus revived, who can affirm him dead?  
Such power lies in this lofty strain as can  
Give Swords, and legions to DOMITIAN.  
And when thy PARIS pleads in the defence  
Of Actors, every grace, and excellence  
Of Argument for that subject, are by Thee  
Contracted in a sweet Epitome.  
Nor do thy Women the tired Hearers vex,  
With language no way proper to their sex.  
just like a cunning Painter thou lets fall  
Copies more fair than the Original.  
I'll add but this. From all the modern Plays  
The Stage hath lately borne, this wins the bays.  
And if it come to trial boldly look  
To carry it clear, Thy witness being thy Book.  T. I.  

In Philippi Massingeri, Poetae elegantiss: Actorem Romanum, typis excusum. {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}.  
ECce Philippinae, celebrata Tragaedia Musae  
Quam Roscus Britonum Roscius egit, adest.  
Semper, frond ambo vireant Parnasside, semper  
Libre ab invidrae dentibus esto, Libre.  
Crebra papyrivori spernas incendia paeti  
Thus, Vaenum expositi tegmina suta libri:  
Nec metuas raucos, Momorum Sybila, rhencos  
Tam bardus nebulo si tamen ullus, erit.  
Nam toties festis, actum, placuisse Theatris  
Quod liquet, hoc, Cusum, crede, placebit, opus.  THO: G.  

To his deserving Friend Mr. Philip Massinger, upon his tragedy, the Roman Actor.  
PARIS, the best of Actors in his age  
Acts yet, and speaks upon our Roman Stage  
Such lines by thee, as do not derogate  
From Rome's proud heights, and Her then learned State.  
Nor great Domitian's favour; not th'embraces  
Of a fair Empress, nor those often graces  
Which from th'applauding Theatres were paid  
To His brave Action, nor His ashes laid  
In the Flaminian way, where people strewed  
His Grave with flowers, and marshal's wit bestowed  
A lasting Epitaph, not all these same  
Do add so much renown to Paris name,  
As this that thou presentest his History  
So well to us. For which in thanks would He  
(If that His soul, as thought Pythagoras  
Could into any of our Actors pass)  
Life to these Lines by action gladly give  
Whose Pen so well has made His story live.  Tho. May.  

Upon Mr. MASSINGER His Roman Actor.  
TO write, is grown so common in our Time  
That every one, who can but frame a Rhyme  
However monstrous, gives Himself that praise  
Which only He should claim, that may wear bays  
By their Applause whose judgements apprehend  
The weight, and truth, of what they dare commend.  
In this besotted Age (friend) 'tis thy glory  
That Here thou hast outdone the Roman story.  
Domitian's pride; His wife's lust unabated  
In death; with Paris, merely were related  
Without a Soul, Until thy abler Pen  
Spoke them, and made them speak, nay Act again  
In such a height, that Here to know their Deeds  
He may become an Actor that but Reads.  john Ford.  

LOngest thou to see proud Caesar set in State,  
His Morning greatness, or his Evening fate?  
With admiration here behold him fall  
And yet outlive his tragic Funeral:  
For 'tis a question whether Caesar's Glory  
Rose to its height before, or in this story.  
Or whether Paris in Domitian's favour  
Were more exalted, then in this thy labour.  
Each line speaks him an Emperor, every phrase  
Crowns thy deserving temples with the bays;  
So that reciprocally both agree  
Thou liv'st in him and He survives in Thee.  Robert Harvey.  

To His long known and loved Friend, Mr. PHILIP MASSINGER, upon His Roman Actor.  
IF that my Lines being placed before thy gooks  
Could make it sell, or alter but a look  
Of some sour Censurer, who's apt to say  
No one in these Times can produce a Play  
Worthy his reading, since of late, 'tis true  
The old accepted are more than the new.  
Or could I on some Spot o'the Court work so  
To make him speak no more than He doth know;  
Not borrowing from His flattering flattered friend  
What to dispraise, or wherefore to commend.  
Then (gentle Friend) I should not blush to be  
Ranked 'mongst those worthy ones, which here I see  
Ushering this Work, but why I write to Thee  
Is to profess our love's Antiquity,  
Which to this tragedy must give my test,  
Thou hast made many good, but this thy best.  joseph Taylor.   

THE ROMAN ACTOR, A Tragedy.  

ACTVS, I. SCAENA, I.  Enter Paris, Latinus, AEsopus. AEsop. 
WHat do we act today?  Latinus. 
Agave's frenzy  
With pentheus' bloody end.  Paris. 
It skill not what  
The times are dull, and all that we receive  
Will hardly satisfy the day's Expense.  
The Greeks (to whom we owe the first invention  
Both of the buskined scene and humble stock)  
That reign in every noble family  
Declaim against us: and our Amphitheater.  
Great Pompey's work, that hath given full delight  
Both to the eye, and ear of fifty thousand  
Spectators in one day, as if it were  
Some unknown desert, or great Room unpeopled,  
Is quite forsaken.  Latin. 
Pleasures of worse natures  
Are gladly entertained, and they that shun us,  
practice in private sports the Stews would blush at.  
A Litter borne by eight Liburnian slaves,  
To buy Diseases from a glorious strumpet,  
The most censorious of our Roman gentry,  
Nay of the guarded robe the Senators,  
Esteem an easy purchase,  Paris 
Yet grudge us  
(That with delight join profit and endeavour  
To build their minds up fair, and on the Stage  
Decipher to the life what honours wait  
On good, and glorious actions, and the shame  
That treads upon the heels of vice. The salary  
Of six Sestertij:  AEsop. 
For the profit Paris,  
And mercenary gain they are things beneath us  
Since while you hold your grace, and power with Caesar,  
We from your bounty find a large supply,  
Nor can one thought of want ever approach us,  Par. 
Our aim is glory, and to leave our names  
To after times.  Latin. 
And would they give us leave  
There ends all our ambition.  AEsop. 
we have enemies  
And great ones too, I fear. 'Tis given out lately  
The Consul Aretinus (Caesar's spy)  
Said at his Table ere a month expired  
(For being galled in our last Comedy)  
He would silence us for ever.  Par. 
I expect  
No favour from him, my strong Aventine is  
That great Domitian, whom we oft have cheered  
In his most sullen moods will once return,  
Who can repair with ease, the console's ruins.  Lat. 
'Tis frequent in the City, he hath subdued  
The Catti, and the Daci, and ere long,  
The second time will enter Rome in triumph.  Enter two Lictors. Par. 
jove hasten it, with us? I now believe  
The Consuls threats AEsopus.  1. Lict. 
You are summoned  
T'appear today in Senate.  2. Lict. 
And there to answer  
What shall be urged against you.  Par. 
We obey you.  
Nay droop not fellows, innocence should be bold  
We that have personated in the Scene  
The ancient Heroes, and the falls of Princes  
With loud applause, being to act ourselves,  
Must do it with undaunted confidence.  
whate'er our sentence be 'tis in sport.  
And though condemned let's hear it without sorrow  
As if we were to live again tomorrow.  1. Lict. 
'Tis spoken like yourself.  Enter AElius/ Lamia, junïus/ Rusticus, Palphuris/ Sura. Lam. 
Whether goes Paris?  1. Lict. 
He's cited to the Senate.  Lat. 
I am glad the State is  
So free from matters of more weight and trouble  
That it has vacant time to look on us.  Par. 
That reverend place, in which the affairs of Kings.  
And provinces were determined, to descend  
To the censure of a bitter word, or jest,  
Dropped from a poet's pen I peace to your Lordships  
We are glad that you are safe. Exeunt Lictors, Paris, Latinus, AEsopus.  Lam. 
What times are these?  
To what is Rome fall'n? may we being alone  
Speak our thoughts freely of the Prince, and State,  
And not fear the informer.  Rust. 
Noble Lamia,  
So dangerous the age is, and such bad acts  
Are practised everywhere, we hardly sleep  
Nay cannot dream with safety. All our actions  
Are called in question, to be nobly borne  
Is now a crime; and to deserve too well  
Held Capital treason. sons accuse their Fathers,  
Fathers their sons; and but to win a smile  
From one in grace in Court, our chastest Matrons  
Make shipwreck of their honours. To be virtuous  
Is to be guilty. They are only safe  
That know to soothe the PRINCE's appetite,  
And serve his lusts.  Sura. 
'tis true; and 'tis my wonder  
That two sons of so different a nature,  
Should spring from good Vespasian. We had a Titus,  
styled justly the delight of all mankind,  
Who did esteem that day lost in his life  
In which some one or other tasted not.  
Of his magnificent bounties. One that had  
A ready tear when he was forced to sign  
The death of an offender. And so far  
From pride, that he disdained not the converse  
Even of the poorest Roman.  Lam. 
Yet his brother  
Domitian, that now sways the power of things,  
Is so inclined to blood, that no day passes  
In which some are not fastened to the hook,  
Or thrown down from the Gemonies. His freemen  
Scorn the Nobility, and he himself  
As if he were not made of flesh and blood,  
Forgets he is a man.  Rust. 
In his young years  
He showed what he would be when grown to ripeness:  
His greatest pleasure was being a child  
With a sharp pointed bodkin to kill flies,  
Whose rooms now men supply. For his escape.  
In the Vitellian war he raised a Temple  
To jupiter, and proudly placed his figure  
In the bosom of the God. And in his edicts  
He does not blush, or start to style himself  
(As if the name of Emperor were base)  
Great Lord, and God Domitian.  Sura. 
I have letters  
He's on his way to Rome, and purposes  
To enter with all glory. The flattering Senate  
Decrees him divine Honours, and to cross it  
Were death with studied torments; for my part  
I will obey the time, it is in vain  
To strive against the torrent  Rust. 
Let's to the Curia  
And though unwillingly grieve our suffrages  
Before we are compelled.  Lam. 
And since we cannot  
With safety use the active, let's make use of  
The passive fortitude, with this assurance  
That the state sicke in him, the gods to friend,  
Though at the worst will now begin to mend. Exeunt.   

ACTVS, I. SCAENA, 2.  Enter Domitia, and Parthenius. Domit. 
To me this reverence?  Parth. 
I pay it Lady  
As a debt due to her that's Caesar's mistress.  
For understand with joy he that commands  
All that the Sun gives warmth to, is your servant.  
Be not amazed, but fit you to your fortunes.  
Think upon state, and greatness, and the Honours  
That wait upon Augusta, for that name  
Ere long comes to you: still you doubt your vassal,  
But when you have read this letter, writ, and signed  
With his imperial hand, you will be freed  
From fear, and jealousy and I beseech you,  
When all the beauties of the earth bow to you,  
And Senators shall take it for an honour,  
As I do now to kiss these happy feet;  
When every smile you give is a preferment,  
And you dispose of Provinces to your creatures,  
Think on Parthenius.  Domit. 
Rise. I am transported,  
And hardly dare believe what is assured here.  
The means, my good Parthenius, that wrought Caesar  
(Our God on earth) to cast an eye of favour  
Upon his humble handmaid!  Parth. 
What but your beauty?  
When nature framed you for her master piece,  
As the pure abstract of all rare in woman,  
She had no other ends but to design you  
To the most eminent place. I will not say  
(For it would smell of arrogance to insinuate  
The service I have done you) with what zeal  
I oft have made relation of your Virtues,  
Or how I have sung your goodness or how Caesar  
Was fired with the relation of your stories  
I am rewarded in the act, and happy  
In that my project prospered.  Domit. 
You are modest,  
And were it in my power I would to be thankful.  
If that when I was mistress of myself,  
And in my way of youth, pure, and untainted,  
The Emperor had vouchsafed to seek my favours,  
I had with joy given up my virgin fort  
At the first summons to his soft embraces:  
But I am now another's, not mine own.  
You know I have a husband, for my honour  
I would not be his strumpet, and how law  
Can be dispensed with to become his wife.  
To me's a riddle.  Parth. 
I can soon resolve it.  
When power puts in his Plea the laws are silenced,  
The world confesses one Rome, and one Caesar,  
And as his rules is infinite, his pleasures  
Are unconfined; this syllable his will  
Stands for a thousand reasons,  Domit. 
But with safety,  
Suppose I should consent, how can I do it,  
My husband is a Senator of a temper,  
Not to be jested with. Enter Lamia.  Parth. 
As if he durst  
Be Caesar's rival. Here he comes, with ease  
I will remove this scruple.  Lam. 
How! so private!  
Mine own house made a brothel! Sir how durst you,  
Though guarded with your power in Court, and greatness,  
Hold conference with my wife? as for your Minion  
I shall hereafter treat.  Parth. 
You are rude, and saucy,  
Nor know to whom you speak.  Lam. 
This is fine i'faith!  Parth. 
Your wife? but touch her, that respect forgotten  
That's due to her, whom mightiest Caesar favours  
And think what 'tis to die. Not to lose time.  
She's Caesar's choice. It is sufficient honour  
You were his taster in this heavenly nectar,  
But now must quit the office.  Lam. 
This is rare.  
Cannot a man be master of his wife  
Because she's young, and fair, without a patent.  
I in mine own house am an Emperor,  
And will defend what's mine, where are my knaves?  
If such an insolence escape unpunished.  Parth. 
In yourself Lamia. Caesar hath forgot  
To use his power, and I his instrument,  
In whom though absent, his authority speaks,  
Have lost my faculties. stamps.  Lam. 
The Guard! why am I Enter a Centurion with Soldiers.  
Designed for death?  Domit. 
As you desire my favour  
Take not so rough a course.  Parth. 
All your desires  
Are absolute commands. Yet give me leave  
To put the will of Caesar into act.  
here's a bill of Divorce between your Lordship,  
And this great Lady. If you refuse to sign it,  
And so as if you did it uncompelled,  
Won to it by reasons that concern yourself,  
Her honour too untainted. Here are Clerks.  
Shall in your best blood write it new, till torture  
Compel you to perform it.  Lam. 
Is this legal?  Par. 
Monarchs that dare not do unlawful things,  
Yet bore them out are Constables, not Kings  Parth. 
Will you dispute?  Lam. 
I know not what to urge  
Against myself, but too much dotage on her  
Love and observance.  Parth. 
Set it under your hand  
That you are impotent, and cannot pay  
The duties of a husband, or that you are mad  
(Rather than want just cause we'll make you so)  
Dispatch, you know the danger else, deliver it  
Nay on your knee. Madam you now are free  
And Mistress of yourself.  Lam. 
Can you Domitia  
Consent to this?  Domit. 
'Twould argue a base mind  
To live a servant, when I may command.  
I now am Caesar's, and yet in respect  
I once was yours, when you come to the Palace,  
(Provided you deserve it in your service)  
You shall find me your good Mistress, wait me Parthenius  
And now farewell poor Lamia. Exeunt omnes preter Longinum.  Lam. 
To the Gods  
I bend my knees, (for tyranny hath banished  
justice from men) and as they would deserve  
Their Altars, and our vows, humbly invoke'em  
That this my ravished wife may prove as fatal  
To proud Domitian, and her embraces  
Afford him in the end as little joy,  
As wanton Helen brought to him of Troy. Exit.   

ACTVS, I. SCAENA, 3.  Enter, Lictors, Arctinus, Fulcinius, Rusticus, Sura, Paris, Latinus, AEsopus. Aret. 
Father's conscript may this our meeting be  
Happy to Caesar and the common wealth.  Lict. 
Silence.  Aret. 
The purpose of this frequent Senate  
Is first to give thanks to the Gods of Rome,  
That for the propagation of the Empire,  
Vouchsafe us one to govern it like themselves  
In height of courage, depth of understanding,  
And all those virtues, and remarkable graces,  
Which make a Prince most eminent, our Domitian  
transcends the ancient Romans. I can never  
Bring his praise to a period. What good man  
That is a friend to truth, dares make it doubtful,  
That he hath Fabius' staidness, and the courage  
Of bold Marcellus, to whom Hannibal gave  
The style of Target, and the Sword of Rome.  
But he has more, and every touch more Roman  
As Pompey's dignity, Augustus' state,  
Antony's bounty, and great julius' fortune.  
With Cato's resolution. I am lost  
In th'Ocean of his virtues. In a word  
All excellencies of good men in him meet,  
But no part of their vices.  Rust. 
This is no flattery!  Sur. 
Take heed, you'll be observed.  Aret. 
'Tis then most fit  
That we (as to the Father of our Country,  
Like thankful sons, stand bound to pay true service  
For all those blessings that he showers upon us)  
Should not connive, and see his government,  
Depraved and scandalised by meaner men  
That to his favour, and indulgence owe  
Themselves and being.  Par. 
Now he points at us.  Aret. 
Cite Paris the Tragedian.  Par. 
Here.  Aret. 
Stand forth.  
In thee, as being the chief of thy profession,  
I do accuse the quality of treason,  
As libelers against the state and Caesar.  Par. 
Mere accusations are not proofs my Lord,  
In what are we delinquents?  Aret. 
You are they  
That search into the secrets of the time,  
And under feigned names on the Stage present  
Actions not to be touched at; and traduce  
Persons of rank, and quality of both Sexes,  
And with Satirical. and bitter jests  
Make even the Senators ridiculous  
To the plebeians.  Par. 
If I free not myself,  
(And in myself the rest of my profession)  
From these false imputations, and prove  
That they make that a libel which the Poet  
Writ for a Comedy, so acted too,  
It is but justice that we undergo  
The heaviest censure.  Aret. 
Are you on the Stage  
You talk so boldly?  Par. 
The whole word being one  
This place is not exempted, and I am  
So confident in the justice of our cause,  
That I could wish Caesar, in whose great name  
All Kings are comprehended sat as judge,  
To hear our Plea, and then determine of us.  
If to express a man sold to his lusts,  
Wasting the treasure of his time and Fortunes,  
In wanton dalliance, and to what sad end  
A wretch that's so given over does arrive at,  
Deterring careless youth, by his example,  
From such licentious courses; laying open  
The snares of bawds, and the consuming arts  
Of prodigal strumpets, can deserve reproof,  
Why are not all your golden principles  
Writ down by grave Philosophers to instruct us  
To choose fair Virtue for our guide, not pleasure,  
Condemn unto the fire?  Sura. 
There's spirit in this.  Par. 
Or if desire of honour was the base  
On which the building of the Roman Empire  
Was raised up to this height; if to inflame  
The noble youth with an ambitious heat  
T'endure the frosts of danger, nay of Death  
To be thought worthy the triumphal wreath  
By glorious undertakings, may deserve  
Reward, or favour, from the common wealth.  
actor's may put in for as large a share  
As all the sects of the Philosophers;  
They which could precepts (perhaps seldom read)  
Deliver what an honourable thing  
The active virtue is. But does that fire  
The blood, or swell the veins with emulation  
To be both good, and great, equal to that  
Which is presented on our Theatres?  
Let a good Actor in a lofty Scene  
Show great Alcides honoured in the sweat  
Of his twelve labours; or a bold Cancillus  
Forbidding Rome to be redeemed with gold  
From the insulting Gauls; or Scipio  
After his victories imposing Tribute  
On conquered Carthage. If done to the life,  
As if they saw their dangers, and their glories,  
And did partake with them in their rewards,  
All that have any spark of Roman in them  
The slothful arts laid by, contend to be  
Like those they see presented.  Rust. 
He has put  
The Consuls to their whisper,  Par. 
But 'tis urged  
That we corrupt youth, and traduce superiors:  
When do we bring a vice upon the Stage,  
That does go off unpunished? do we teach  
By the success of wicked undertakings,  
Others to tread, in their forbidden steps?  
We show no arts of Lydian Pandarism,  
Corinthian poisons, Persian flatteries,  
But mulcted so in the conclusion that  
Even those spectators that were so inclined,  
Go home changed men. And for traducing such  
That are above us, publishing to the world  
Their secret crimes we are as innocent  
As such as are borne dumb. When we present  
An heir, that does conspire against the life  
Of his dear parent, numbering every hour  
He lives as tedious to him, if there be  
Among the auditors one whose conscience tells him,  
He is of the same mould we cannot help it.  
Or bringing on the stage a loose adultress,  
That does maintain the riotous expense  
Of him that feeds her greedy lust, yet suffers  
The lawful pledges of a former bed  
To starve the while for hunger, if a Matron  
However great in fortune, birth, or titles,  
Guilty of such a foul unnatural sin,  
Cry out 'tis writ by me, we cannot help it:  
Or when a covetous man's expressed, whose wealth  
Arithmetic cannot number, and whose Lordships  
A Falcon in one day cannot fly over  
Yet he so sordid in his mind, so griping  
As not to afford himself the necessaries  
To maintain life, if a Patrician,  
(Though honoured with a Consulship) find himself  
Touched to the quick in this, we cannot help it.  
Or when we show a judge that is corrupt  
And will give up his sentence as he favours,  
The person, not the cause, saving the guilty  
If of his faction, and as oft condemning  
The innocent out of particular spleen,  
If any in this reverend assembly,  
Nay e'en yourself my Lord, that are the image  
Of absent Caesar feel something in your bosom  
That puts you in remembrance of things past,  
Or things intended 'tis not in us to help it.  
I have said, my Lord, and now as you find cause  
Or censure us, or free us with applause.  Lat. 
Well pled on my life I never saw him  
Act an Orators part before.  AEsop. 
We might have given  
Ten double fees to Regulus, and yet  
Our cause delivered worse. A shout within, enter Parthenius.  Aret. 
What shout is that?  Parth. 
Caesar our Lord married to conquest, is  
Returned in triumph.  Fulcin. 
Let's all haste to meet him.  Aret. 
Break up the Court, we will reserve to him  
The Censure of this cause  All. 
Long life to Caesar. Exeunt omnes.   

ACTVS, I. SCAENA, 4.  Enter julia, Caenis, Domitilla, Domitia. Caen. 
Stand back the place is mine.  Iul. 
yours am I not  
Great Titus' daughter, and Domitian's niece  
Dares any claim precedence?  Caen. 
I was more  
The mistress of your father, and in his right  
Claim duty from you.  Iul. 
I confess you were useful  
To please his appetite.  Domit. 
To end the controversy,  
For I'll have no contending, I'll be bold  
To lead the way myself.  Domitil. 
You Minion!  Domit. 
Yes  
And all ere long shall kneel to catch my favours.  Iul, 
Whence springs this flood of greatness?  Domit. 
You shall know  
To soon for your vexation, and perhaps  
Repent too late, and pine with envy when  
You see whom Caesar favours  Iul. 
Observe the sequel.  Enter at one door Captains with Laurels, Domitian, in his Triumphant Chariot, Parthenius, Paris, Latinus, AEsopus met by Aretinus, Sura, Lamia, Rusticus, Fulcinius, and prisoners led by him. Caes. 
As we now touch the height of humane glory,  
Riding in triumph to the Capitol,  
Let these whom this victorious arm hath made  
The scorn of Fortune, and the slaves of Rome,  
Taste the extremes of misery. Bear them off  
To the common prisons, and there let them prove  
How sharp our axes are.  Rust. 
A bloody entrance!  Caes. 
To tell you, you are happy in your Prince  
Were to distrust your love, or my desert  
And either were distasteful. Or to boast  
How much, not by my Deputies, but myself,  
I have enlarged the Empire; or what horrors  
The Soldier in our conduct hath broke through,  
Would better suit the mouth of Plautus' braggart,  
Than the adored Monarch of the world.  Sura. 
This is no boast.  Caes. 
When I but name the Daci,  
And grey eyed Germans whom I have subdued,  
The Ghost of julius will look pale with envy,  
And great Vespasian's, and Titus' triumph,  
(Truth must take place of Father and of Brother)  
Will be no more remembered. I am above  
All honours you can give me. And the style  
Of Lord, and God, which thankful subjects give me  
(Not my ambition) is deserved,  Aret. 
At all parts  
Celestial Sacrifice is fit for Caesar  
In our acknowledgement.  Caes. 
Thanks Aretinus  
Still hold our favour. Now; the God of war,  
And famine, blood, and death, Bellona's Pages  
Banished from Rome to Thrace in our good fortune.  
With justice he may taste the fruits of peace,  
Whose sword hath ploughed the ground, and reaped the harvest  
Of your prosperity. Nor can I think  
That there is one among you so ungrateful,  
Or such an enemy, to thriving virtue,  
That can esteem the jewel he holds dearest  
Too good for Caesar's use  Sur. 
All we possess.  Lam. 
Our liberties.  Fulcin. 
Our children.  Parth. 
Wealth.  Aret. 
And throats  
Fall willingly beneath his feet.  Rust. 
Base flattery.  
What Roman could endure this?  Caes. 
This calls on  
My love to all, which spreads itself among you.  
The beauties of the time I receive the honour  
To kiss the hand, which reared up thus, holds thunder  
To you 'tis an assurance of a calm.  
julia my niece and Caenis the delight  
Of old Vespasian, Domitilla to  
A princess of our blood.  Rust. 
'tis strange his pride  
Affords no greater courtesy to Ladies  
Of such high birth and rank.  Sur. 
Your wife's forgotten  Lam. 
No she will be remembered fear it not  
She will be graced and greased.  Caes. 
But when I look on  
Divine Domitian, methinks we should meet  
(The lesser gods applauding the encounter)  
As jupiter the Giants lying dead  
On the Phlegraean plain embraced this juno  
Lamia 'tis your honour that she's mine.  Lam. 
You are too great to be gainsaid.  Caes. 
Let all  
That fear our frown, or do affect our favour,  
Without examining the reason why,  
Salute her (by this kiss I make it good)  
With the title of Augusta.  Domit. 
Still your servant,  All. 
Long live Augusta great Domitian's Empress.  Caes. 
Paris my hand.  Par. 
The God's still honour Caesar.  Caes. 
The wars are ended, and our arms laid by  
We are for soft delights. Command the Poets  
To use their choicest, and most rare invention  
To entertain the time, and be you careful  
To give it action, we'll provide the people  
Pleasures of all kinds. My Domitia think not  
I flatter, though thus fond, On to the Capitol  
'tis death to him that wears a sullen brow:  
This 'tis to be a Monarch when alone  
He can command all, but is awed by none  Exeunt. 
The end of the first Act.    


ACTVS, II. SCAENA, 1.  Enter Philargus, Parthenius. Philarg. 
My son to tutor me. Know your obedience  
And question not my will.  Parth. 
Sir were I one  
Whom want compelled to wish a full possession  
Of what is yours. Or had I ever numbered  
Your years, or thought you lived too long, with reason  
You then might nourish ill opinions of me.  
Or did the suit that I prefer to you  
Concern myself, and aimed not at your good  
You might deny, and I sit down with patience,  
And after never press you,  Philarg. 
I' the name of Pluto  
What wouldst thou have me do?  Parth. 
Right to yourself,  
Or suffer me to do it. Can you imagine  
This nasty hat, this tattered cloak, rent shoe,  
This sordid linen can become the master  
Of your fair fortunes? whose superfluous means  
(Though I were burdensome) could clothe you in  
The costliest Persian silks, studded with jewels  
The spoils of Provinces, and every day  
Fresh change of tyrian purple.  Philarg. 
Out upon thee,  
My moneys in my coffers melt to hear thee.  
Purple, hence Prodigal. Shall I make my Mercer  
Or Taylor my heir, or see my jeweller purchase  
No, I hate pride.  Parth. 
Yet decency would do well.  
Though for your outside you will not be altered,  
Let me prevail so far yet, as to win you  
Not to deny your belly nourishment;  
Neither to think you have feasted when 'tis crammed  
With mouldy barley bread, onions, and leeks,  
And the drink of bondmen water.  Philarg. 
Wouldst thou have me  
be an Apicius, or a Lucullus,  
And riot out my state in curious sauces?  
Wise nature with a little is contented,  
And following her, my guide, I cannot err.  Parth. 
But you destroy her in your want of care  
(I blush to see, and speak it) to maintain her  
In perfect health and vigour, when you suffer  
(Frighted with the charge of Physic) Rheums, Catarrhs,  
The Scurf, ache in your bones to grow upon you,  
And hasten on your fate with too much sparing.  
When a cheap Purge, a Vomit and good diet  
May lengthen it, give me but leave to send  
The Emperor's Doctor to you.  Philarg. 
I'll be borne first  
Half rotten to the fire, that must consume me,  
His Pills, his Cordials, his Electuaries,  
His syrups julips, Bezerstone nor his  
Imagined unicorn's horn comes in my belly,  
My mouth shall be a draught first, 'Tis resolved.  
No; I'll not lessen my dear golden heap.  
Which every hour increasing does renew.  
My youth, and vigour, but if lessened, then,  
Than my poor heartstrings crack. Let me enjoy it,  
And brood o'er't while I live, it being my life,  
My soul, my all. But when I turn to dust,  
And part from what is more esteemed by me  
Then all the Gods, Rome's thousand Altars smoke to,  
Inherit thou my adoration of it,  
And like me serve my Idol. Exit Philargus.  Parth. 
What a strange torture  
Is Avarice to itself! what man that looks on  
Such a penurious spectacle but must  
Know what the fable meant of Tantalus,  
Or the Ass whose back is cracked with curious viands  
Yet feeds on thistles. Some course I must take,  
To make my Father know what cruelty  
He uses on himself. Enter Paris.  Par. 
Sir with your pardon,  
I make bold to inquire the emperor's pleasure,  
For, being by him commanded to attend  
Your favour may instruct us what's his will.  
Shall be this night presented?  Parth. 
My loved Paris,  
Without my intercession you well know  
You may make your own approaches, since his ear  
To you is ever open.  Par. 
I acknowledge  
His clemency to my weakness, and if ever.  
I do abuse it, lightning strike me dead,  
The grace he pleases to confer upon me  
(Without boast I may say so much) was never  
Employed to wrong the innocent, or to incense  
His fury.  Parth. 
'Tis confessed many men owe you  
For Provinces they ne'er hoped for; and their lives  
Forfeited to his anger, you being absent,  
I could say more.  Par. 
You still are my good Patron.  
And lay it in my fortune to deserve it,  
You should perceive the poorest of your clients  
To his best abilities thankful.  Parth. 
I believe so.  
Met you my Father?  Par. 
Yes Sir, with much grief.  
To see him as he is. Can nothing work him  
To be himself?  Parth. 
O Paris 'tis a weight  
Sits heavy here, and could this right hands loss  
Remove it, it should off but he is deaf  
To all persuasion.  Par. 
Sir with your pardon,  
I'll offer my advice! I once observed  
In a Tragedy of ours, in which a murder  
Was acted to the life, a guilty hearer  
Forced by the terror of a wounded conscience,  
To make discovery of that, which torture  
Could not wring from him. Nor can it appear  
Like an impossibility, but that  
Your Father looking on a covetous man  
Presented on the Stage as in a mirror  
May see his own deformity, and loathe it.  
Now could you but persuade the Emperor  
To see a Comedy we have that's styled  
The Cure of Avarice, and to command  
Your Father to be a spectator of it,  
He shall be so Anatomised in the Scene,  
And see himself so personated; the baseness  
Of a self torturing miserable wretch  
Truly described that I much hope the object  
Will work compunction in him.  Parth. 
There's your fee  
I ne'er bought better counsel. Be you in readiness  
I will effect the rest.  Par. 
Sir when you please  
we'll be prepared to enter. Sir the Emperor. Exit. Paris.  Enter Caesar, Arctinus, Guard. Caes. 
Repine at us?  Aret. 
'tis, more, or my informers  
That keep strict watch upon him are deceived  
In their intelligence there is a list  
Of malcontents, as junius Rusticus  
Palphurius, Sura, and this AElius, Lamia,  
That murmur at your triumphs as mere Pageants;  
And at their midnight meetings tax your justice  
(For so I style what they call tyranny)  
For Paetus Thrasea's death, as if in him,  
Virtue herself were murdered; nor forget they  
Agricola (who for his service done  
In the reducing brittany to obedience)  
They dare affirm to be removed with poison,  
And he compelled to write you a coheir  
With his daughter, that his testament might stand,  
Which else you had made void. Then your much love  
To julia your niece, censured as incest,  
And done in scorn of Titus your dead brother;  
But the divorce Lamia was forced to sign  
To her, you honour with Augusta's title,  
Being only named, they do conclude there was  
A Lucrece once, a Collatine, and a Brutus,  
But nothing Roman left now, but in you  
The lust of Tarquin.  Caes. 
Yes. His fire, and scorn  
Of such as think that our unlimited power  
Can be confined, dares Lamia pretend  
An interest to that which I call mine?  
Or but remember, she was ever his  
That's now in our possession? fetch him hither. The Guard go of.  
I'll give him cause to wish he rather had  
Forgot his own name then e'er mentioned hers.  
Shall we be circumscribed? let such as cannot  
By force make good their actions, though wicked  
Conceal, excuse or qualify their crimes:  
What our desires grant leave, and privilege to  
Though contradicting all divine decrees,  
Or laws confirmed by Romulus, and Numa,  
Shall be held sacred.  Aret. 
You should else take from  
The dignity of Caesar.  Caes. 
Am I master  
Of two and thirty Legions, that awe  
All Nations, of the triumphed world,  
Yet tremble at our frown, yield an account  
Of what's our pleasure to a private man?  
Rome perish first, and Atlas' shoulders shrink,  
heavens' fabric fall; the Sun, the Moon, the Stars  
Losing their light, and comfortable heat,  
Ere I confess, that any fault of mine  
May be disputed.  Aret. 
So you preserve your power  
As you should equal, and omnipotent here,  
With Jupiter's above. Parthenius kneeling whispers to Caesar.  Caes. 
Thy suit is granted  
whate'er it be Parthenius for thy service  
Done to Augusta. Only so? a trifle.  
Command him hither. If the Comedy fail  
To cure him, I will minister something to him  
That shall instruct him to forget his gold,  
And think upon himself.  Parth. 
May it succeed well  
Since my intents are pious. Exit Parthenius.  Caes. 
We are resolved  
What course to take, and therefore Aretinus  
Inquire no farther. Go you to my Empress,  
And say I do entreat (for she rules him  
Whom all men else obey) she would vouchsafe  
The music of her voice, at yonder window,  
When I advance my hand thus. I will blend Exit Aretinus.  
My cruelty with some scorn, or else 'tis lost.  
Revenge, when it is unexpected falling,  
With greater violence; and hate clothed in smiles,  
Strikes, and with horror dead the wretch that comes not  
Prepared to meet it. Our good Lamia welcome. Enter Lamia with the Guard.  
So much we owe you for a benefit  
With willingness on your part conferred upon us,  
That ''tis our study we that would not live  
Engaged to any for a courtesy,  
How to return it.  Lam. 
'Tis beneath your fate  
To be obliged that in your own hand grasp  
The means to be magnificent.  Caes. 
Well put off  
But yet it must not do, the Empire, Lamia,  
Divided equally can hold no weight,  
If balanced with your gift in fair Domitia.  
You that could part with all delights at once,  
The magazine of rich pleasures being contained  
In her perfections, uncompelled delivered.  
As a Present fit for Caesar. In your eyes  
With tears of joy, not sorrow, 'tis confirmed  
You glory in your act.  Lam. 
Derided too!  
Sir this is more.  Caes. 
More than I can requite  
It is acknowledged Lamia. There's no drop  
Of melting nectar I taste from her lip,  
But yields a touch of immortality  
To the blessed receiver; every grace and feature,  
prized to the worth, bought at an easy rate;  
If purchased for a Consulship. Her discourse.  
So ravishing, and her action so attractive,  
That I would part with all my other senses  
Provided I might ever see, and hear her.  
The pleasures of her bed I dare not trust  
The winds or air with, for that would draw down  
In envy of my happiness, a war  
From all the Gods upon me.  Lam. 
Your compassion  
To me is your forbearing to insult  
On my calamity which you make your sport,  
Would more appease those Gods you have provoked  
Then all the blasphemous comparisons,  
You sing unto her praise.  Caes. 
I sing her praise?  
'Tis far from my ambition to hope it. Music above and a song.  
It being a debt she only can lay down,  
And no tongue else discharge. Hark. I think prompted  
With my consent that you once more should hear her,  
She does begin. An universal silence  
Dwell on this place. 'Tis death with lingering torments  
To all that dare disturb her. Who can hear this The song ended Caesar go on.  
And falls not down and worships? in my fancy,  
Apollo being judge on Latino's hill,  
Fair haired Calliope on her ivory Lute  
(But something short of this) sung Ceres praises  
And grisly Pluto's rape on Proserpine.  
The motion of the Spheres are out of time  
Her musical notes but heard. Say Lamia, say,  
Is not her voice Angelical?  Lam. 
To your ear.  
But I alas am silent.  Caes. 
be so ever,  
That without admiration canst hear her.  
Malice to my felicity strikes thee dumb,  
And in thy hope, or wish to repossess  
What I love more than Empire, I pronounce thee  
Guilty of treason. Off with his head. Do you stare?  
By her, that is my Patroness, Minerva,  
(Whose Statue I adore of all the Gods)  
If he but live to make reply thy life The Guard lead off Lamia slopping his mouth.  
Shall answer it. My fears of him are freed now  
And he that lived to upbraid me with my wrong  
For an offence he never could imagine  
In wantonness removed. Descend my dearest.  
Plurality of husbands shall no more  
Breed doubts or jealousies in you. 'Tis dispatched  
And with as little trouble here, as if  
I had killed a fly. Now you appear and in Enter Domitia, ushered in by Aretinus, her train with all state borne up by julia, Caenis, and Domitilla.  
That glory you deserve, and these that stoop  
To do you service in the act much honoured.  
julia forget that Titus was thy Father,  
Canis and Domitilla ne'er remember  
Sabinus, or Vespasian. To be slaves  
To her, is more true liberty then to live  
Parthian or Asian Queens. As lesser stars  
That wait on Phoebe in her full of brightness,  
Compared to her you are (thus I seat you)  
By Caesar's side. Commanding these that once  
Were the adored glories of the time  
To witness to the world they are your vassals  
At your feet to attend you.  Domit. 
'tis your pleasure  
And not my pride. And yet when I consider  
That I am yours, all duties they can pay  
I do receive as circumstances due  
To her you please to honour.  Enter Parthenius with Philargus. Parth. 
Caesar's will  
Commands you hither, nor must you gainsay it.  Phil. 
Lose time to see an Interlude? must I pay to  
For my vexation?  Parth. 
Not in the Court,  
It is the emperor's charge.  Phil. 
I shall endure  
My torment then the better.  Caes. 
Can it be  
This sordid thing Parthenius is thy Father?  
No actor can express him. I had held  
The fiction for impossible in the Scene,  
Had I not seen the substance. Sirrah sit still,  
And give attention, if you but nod  
You sleep for ever. Let them spare the Prologue,  
And all the Ceremonies proper to our self  
And come to the last act, there where the cure  
By the Doctor is made perfect. The swift minutes  
Seem years to me Domitia that divorce thee  
From my embraces. My desires increasing  
As they are satisfied all pleasures else  
Are tedious as dull sorrows. Kiss me, again:  
If I now wanted heat of youth, these fires  
In Priam's veins would thaw his frozen blood,  
Enabling him to get a second Hector  
For the defence of Troy.  Domit. 
You are wanton?  
Pray you forbear. Let me see the Play.  Caes. 
Begin there.  Enter Paris like a Doctor of Physic, AEsopus, Latinus brought forth asleep in a chair, a key in his mouth. AEsop. 
O master Doctor he is past recovery  
A lethargy hath ceased him. And however  
His sleep resemble death his watchful care  
To guard that treasure he dares make no use of,  
Works strongly in his soul.  Par. 
What's that he holds  
So fast between his teeth?  AEsop. 
The key that opens  
His iron chests crammed with accursed gold,  
Rusty with long imprisonment. There's no duty  
In me his son, nor confidence in friends,  
That can persuade him to deliver up  
That to the trust of any.  Philarg 
He is the wiser  
We were fashioned in one mould.  AEsop. 
He eats with it,  
And when devotion calls him to the Temple  
Of Mammon, whom of all the Gods he kneels to  
That held thus still, his orisons are paid;  
Or will he though, the wealth of Rome were pawned  
For the restoring of it for one short hour  
Be won to part with it.  Philarg. 
Still, still myself.  
And if like me he love his gold, no pawn  
Is good security.  Par. 
I'll try if I can force it.  
It will not be. His avaritious mind  
(Like men in rivers drowned) makes him gripe fast  
To his last gasp what he in life held dearest.  
And if that it were possible in nature  
Would carry it with him to the other world.  Philarg. 
As I would do to hell rather than leave it.  AEsop. 
Is he not dead?  
Long since to all good actions  
Or to himself, or others, for which wise men  
Desire to live. You may with safety pinch him,  
Or under his nails stick needle, s yet he stirs not,  
Anxious fear to lose what his soul dotes on  
Renders his flesh insensible. We must use  
Some means to rouse the sleeping faculties  
Of his mind, there lies the Lethargy. Take a Trumpet  
And blow it into his ears, 'tis to no purpose  
The roaring noise of thunder cannot wake him.  
And yet despair not I have one trick yet left  AEsop. 
What is it?  Par. 
I will cause a fearful Dream  
To steal into his fancy, and disturb it  
With the horror it brings with it, and so free  
His body's Organs.  Domit. 
'Tis a cunning fellow,  
If he were indeed a Doctor as the play says,  
He should be sworn my servant, govern my slumbers  
And minister to me waking.  Par. 
If this fail A chest brought in.  
I'll give him over. So with all violence  
Rend ope this iron chest. For here is life lies  
Bound up in fetters, and in the defence  
Of what he values higher, 'twill return  
And fill each vein and artery. Lowder yet.  
'Tis open, and already he begins  
To stir, mark with what trouble. Latinus stretches himself.  Philarg. 
As you are Caesar  
Defend this honest thrifty man, they are thieves,  
And come to rob him.  Parth. 
Peace the Emperor frowns.  Par. 
So now pour out the bags upon the Table,  
Remove his jewels, and his bonds, again.  
Ring a second golden peal, his eyes are open.  
He stares as he had seen Medusa's head,  
And were turned marble. Once more.  Lat. 
Murder, murder,  
They us murder, murder. My son in the plot?  
Thou worse than parricide if it be death  
To strike thy Father's body, can all tortures,  
The furies in hell practise, be sufficient  
For thee that dost assassinate my soul?  
My gold! my bounds! my jewels! dost thou envy  
My glad possession of them for a day?  
Extinguishing the Taper of my life  
Consumed unto the snuff?  Par. 
Seem not to mind him.  Lat. 
Have I to leave thee rich denied myself  
The joys of humane being? Scraped and hoarded  
A mass of treasure, which had Solon seen  
The Lydian Croesus had appeared to him  
Poor as the beggar Irus. And yet I  
Solicitous to increase it, when my entrails  
Were clemed with keeping a perpetual fast,  
Was deaf to their loud windy cries, as fearing  
Should I disburse one penny to their use,  
My heir might curse me. And to save expense  
In outward ornaments, I did expose  
My naked body to the Winter's cold,  
And summer's scorching heat. Nay when diseases  
Grew thick upon me, and a little cost  
Had purchased my recovery, I chose rather  
To have my ashes closed up in my urn,  
By hasting on my fate, than to diminish  
The gold my prodigal son, while I am living,  
Carelessly scatters.  AEsop. 
Would you would dispatch and die once.  
Your Ghost should feel in hell, that is my slave  
Which was your master.  Philarg. 
Out upon thee varlet.  Par. 
And what then follows all your cark, and caring,  
And self affliction when your starved trunk is  
Turned to forgotten dust? This hopeful youth  
urines upon your monument. ne'er remembering  
How much for him you suffered. And then tells  
To the companions of his lusts, and riots,  
The hell you did endure on earth to leave him  
Large means to be an Epicure, and to feast  
His senses all at once, a happiness  
You never granted to yourself. Your gold then  
(Got with vexation, and preserved with trouble)  
Maintains the public stews, panders, and ruffians  
That quaff damnations to your memory,  
For living so long here.  Lat. 
'T will be so, I see it.  
O that I could redeem the time that's past  
I would live, and die like myself; and make true use  
Of what my industry purchased.  Par. 
Covetous men  
Having one foot in the grave lament soever.  
But grant that I by Art could yet recover  
Your desperate sickness, lengthen out your life  
A dozen of years, as I restore your body  
To perfect health, will you with care endeavour  
To rectify your mind  Lat. 
I should so live then  
As neither my heir should have just cause to think  
I lived too long for being close handed to him,  
Or cruel to myself.  Par. 
Have your desires  
Phoebus assisting, me I will repair  
The ruined building of your health, and think not  
You have a son that hates you; the truth is  
This means with his consent I practised on you,  
To this good end, it being a device  
In you to show the Cure of Avarice. Exeunt Paris, Latinus, AEsopus.  Phil. 
An old fool to be gulled thus I had he died  
As I resolve to do, not to be altered,  
It had gone off twanging.  Caes. 
How approve you sweetest,  
Of the matter, and the Actors?  Domit. 
For the subject  
I like it not, it was filched out of Horace,  
Nay I have read the Poets but the fellow  
That played the Doctor did it well by Venus;  
He had a tuneable tongue and neat delivery,  
And yet in my opinion he would perform  
A lover's part much better. Prithee Caesar  
For I grow weary let us see tomorrow  
Iplus and Anaxerete.  Caes. 
Any thing  
For thy delight Domitia. To your rest  
Till I come to disquiet you. Wait upon her.  
There is a business that I must dispatch  
And I will straight be with you. Exeunt Aretinus, Domitia, julia, Canis, Domitilla.  Parth. 
Now my dread Sir  
Endeavour to prevail.  Caes. 
One way or other.  
we'll cure him never doubt it. Now Philargus  
Thou wretched thing, hast thou seen thy sordid baseness?  
And but observed what a contemptible creature  
A covetous miser is? dost thou in thyself  
Feel true compunction! with a resolution  
To be a new man?  Philarg. 
This crazed bodies Caesars,  
But for my mind.  Caes. 
Trifle not with my anger.  
Canst thou make good use of what was now presented?  
And imitate in thy sudden change of life,  
The miserable rich man, that expressed  
What thou art to the life.  Philarg. 
Pray you give me leave  
To die as I have lived. I must not part with  
My gold, it is my life. I am past cure.  Caes. 
No; by Minerva thou shalt never more  
Feel the least touch of avarice. Take him hence  
And hang him instantly. If there be gold in hell  
Enjoy it, thine here and thy life together  
Is forfeited.  Philarg. 
Was I sent for to this purpose?  Parth. 
Mercy for all my service, Caesar mercy  Caes. 
Should jove plead for him. 'Tis resolved he dies,  
And he that speaks one syllable to dissuade me,  
And therefore tempt me not. It is but justice.  
Since such as wilfully, will hourly die,  
Must tax themselves, and not my cruelty. Exeunt omnes.  
The end of the second Act.    


ACTVS, III. SCAENA, 1.  Enter julia, Domitilla, Stephanos. Iul. 
No Domitilla, if you but compare  
What I have suffered with your injuries,  
(Though great ones I confess) they will appear  
Like molehills to Olimpus.  Domitil. 
You are tender  
Of your own wounds, which makes you lose the feeling  
And sense of mine. The incest he committed  
With you, and publicly professed, in scorn  
Of what the world durst censure may admit  
Some weak defence, as being borne headlong to it.  
But in a manly way to enjoy your beauties.  
Besides won by his perjuries that he would  
Salute you with the title of Augusta,  
Your faint denial showed a full consent,  
And grant to his temptations. But poor I  
That would not yield, but was with violence forced  
To serve his lusts, and in a kind Tiberius  
At Caprae never practised, have not here  
One conscious touch to rise up my accuser  
I in my will being innocent.  Steph. 
Pardon me  
Great Princesses, though I presume to tell you  
Wasting your time in childish lamentations,  
You do degenerate from the blood you spring from:  
For there is something more in Rome expected  
From Titus' daughter, and his uncle's heir,  
Then womanish complaints after such wrongs  
Which mercy cannot pardon. But you'll say  
Your hands are weak, and should you but attempt  
A just revenge on this inhuman monster.  
This prodigy of mankind bloody Domitian,  
Hath ready words at his command as well  
As Islands to confine you to remove.  
His doubts, and fears, did he but entertain  
The least suspicion you contrived or plotted  
Against his person.  Iul. 
'Tis true Stephanos.  
The legions that sacred Jerusalem  
Under my Father Titus are sworn his,  
And I no more remembered.  Domit. 
And to lose  
ourselves by building on impossible hopes,  
Were desperate madness.  Steph. 
You conclude too fast.  
One single arm whose master does contemn  
His own life holds a full command o'er his,  
Spite of his guards. I was your bondman Lady,  
And you my gracious patroness; my wealth  
And liberty your gift, and though no soldier,  
To whom or custom, or example makes  
Grim death appear less terrible, I dare die  
To do you service in a fair revenge  
And it will better suit your births and honours  
To fall at once, than to live ever slaves  
To his proud Empress that insults upon  
Your patient sufferings. Say but you go on,  
And I will retch his heart, or perish in  
The noble undertaking.  Domit. 
Your free offer  
Confirms your thankfulness, which I acknowledge  
A satisfaction for a greater debt  
Then what you stand engaged for: but I must not  
Upon uncertain grounds hazard so grateful,  
And good a servant. The mortal powers  
Protect a Prince though sold to impious acts,  
And seem to slumber till his roaring crimes  
Awake their justice: but then looking down  
And with impartial eyes, on his contempt  
Of all religion, and moral goodness,  
They in their secrets judgements do determine  
To leave him to his wickedness, which sinks him  
When he is most secure.  Iul. 
His cruelty  
Increasing daily of necessity  
Must render him as odious to his soldiers,  
Familiar friends, and freemen, as it hath done  
Already to the Senate; then forsaken  
Of his supporters, and grown terrible  
Even to himself, and her, he now so dotes on,  
We may put into act, what now with safety  
We cannot whisper,  Steph. 
I am still prepared  
To execute when you please to command me:  
Since I am confident he deserves much more  
That vindicates his country from a tyranny,  
Than he that saves a citizen.  Iul. 
O here's Caenis. Enter Caenis.  Domitil. 
Whence come you?  Caen. 
From the Empress who seems moved  
In that you wait no better. Her pride's grown  
To such a height that she disdains the service  
Of her own women; and esteems herself  
Neglected? when the Princesses of the blood  
On every course employment, are not ready  
To stoop to her commands.  Domitil. 
Where is her greatness?  Cæn. 
Where you would little think she could descend  
To grace the room or persons.  Iul. 
Speak; where is she?  Cæn. 
Among the Players, where all state laid by,  
She does inquire who acts this part, who that,  
And in what habits? blames the tire-women  
For want of curious dressings; and so taken  
She is with Paris the Tragedians shape  
That is to act a Lover, I thought once  
She would have courted him.  Domitil. 
In the mean time  
How spends the Emperor his hours?  Caen. 
As ever  
He hath done heretofore in being cruel  
To innocent men, whose virtues he calls crimes.  
And but this morning if't be possible  
He hath outgone himself, having condemned  
At Aretinus his informer's suit,  
Palphurius Sura, and good junius Rusticus,  
Men of the best repute in Rome for their  
Integrity of life; no fault objected  
But that they did lament his cruel sentence  
On Paetus Thraseas the Philosopher  
Their Patron and instructor.  Steph. 
Can jove see this  
And hold his thunder!  Domitil. 
Nero and Caligula  
Commanded only mischiefs but our Caesar  
Delights to see'em.  Iul. 
What we cannot help,  
We may deplore with silence.  Caen. 
We are called for  
By our proud mistress.  Domit. 
We a while must suffer.  Steph. 
It is true fortitude to stand firm against  
All shocks of fate, when cowards faint and die  
In fear to suffer more calamity. Exeunt.   

ACTVS, III. SCAENA, 2.  Enter Caesar, Parthenius. Caes. 
They are then in fetters.  Parth. 
Yes Sir. But  Caes. 
But? What?  
I'll have thy thoughts. Deliver them.  Parth. 
I shall Sir.  
But still submitting to your Godlike pleasure  
Which cannot be instructed?  Caes. 
To the point.  Parth. 
Nor let your sacred Majesty believe  
Your vassal, that with dry eyes looked upon  
His Father dragged to death by your command,  
Can pity these, that durst presume to censure  
What you decreed.  Caes. 
Well. Forward.  Parth. 
'Tis my zeal  
Still to preserve your clemency admired  
Tempered with justice, that emboldens me  
To offer my advice. Alas I know Sir  
These Bookmen, Rusticus, and Pulphurius Sura,  
Deserve all tortures. Yet in my opinion,  
They being popular Senators, and cried up  
With loud applauses of the multitude,  
For foolish honesty, and beggarly virtue,  
'twould relish more of policy to have them  
Made away in private, with what exquisite torments  
You please it skill not, than to have them drawn  
To the degrees in public; for 'tis doubted  
That the sad object may beget compassion  
In the giddy rout, and cause some sudden uproar  
That may disturb you.  Caes. 
Hence pale spirited coward  
Can we descend so far beneath ourself  
As, or to court, the people's love, or fear  
Their worst of hate? Can they that are as dust  
Before the whirlwind of our will and power,  
Add any moment to us? Or thou think  
If there are Gods above, or Goddesses,  
(But wise Minerva that's mine own and sure)  
That they have vacant hours to take into  
Their serious protection, or care.  
This many headed monster? mankind lives  
In few, as potent Monarchs, and their Peers,  
And all those glorious constellations  
That do adorn the firmament, appointed  
Like grooms with their bright influence to attend  
The actions of Kings, and Emperors,  
They being the greater wheels that move the less.  
Bring forth those condemned wretches let me see  
One man so lost, as but to pity 'em  
And though there lay a million of souls  
Imprisoned in his flesh my Hangmens hooks  
Should rend it off and give 'em liberty.  
Caesar hath said it. Exit Parthenius.  Enter Parthenius, Aretinus, and the Guard, Hangmen dragging in junius, Rusticus, and Palphurius Sura, bound back to backe. Aret. 
'Tis great Caesar's pleasure  
That with fixed eyes you carefully observe  
The people's looks. Charge upon any man  
That with a sigh, or murmur does express  
A seeming sorrow for these traitors' deaths,  
You know his will, perform it.  Caes. 
A good bloodhound,  
And fit for my employments.  Sur. 
Give us leave  
To die fell tyrant.  Rust. 
For beyond our bodies  
Thou hast no power.  Caes. 
Yes I'll afflict your souls.  
And force them groaning to the Stygian lake  
Prepared for such to howl in, that blaspheme  
The power of Princes, that are Gods on earth;  
Tremble to think how terrible the dream is  
After this sleep of death.  Rust. 
To guilty men  
It may bring terror, not to us, that know  
What 'tis to die, well taught by his example  
For whom we suffer. In my thought I see  
The substance of that pure untainted soul,  
Of Thraseas our master made a star,  
That with melodious harmony invites us  
(Leaving this dunghill Rome, made hell by thee,)  
To trace his heavenly steps, and fill a Sphere  
Above yond Crystal Canopy.  Caes. 
Do invoke him  
With all the aids his sanctity of life  
Have won on the rewarders of his virtue,  
They shall not save your Dogs do you grin? torment 'em.  
So take a leaf of Seneca now and prove  
If it can render you insensible  
Of that which but begins here. Now an oil The Hangmen torment 'em, they still smiling.  
Drawn from the Stoics frozen principles  
Predominant over fire were useful for you.  
Again, again. You trifle. Not a groan,  
Is my rage lost? What cursed charms defend 'em!  
Search deeper villains. Who looks pale? or thinks  
That I am cruel?  Aret. 
Over merciful.  
all your weakness Sir.  Parth. 
I dare not show  
A sign of sorrow, yet my sinews shrink  
The spectacle is so horrid. Aside.  Caes. 
I was never  
o'ercome till now. For my sake roar a little,  
And show you are corporeal, and not turned  
Aerial spirits. Will it not do. By Pallas  
It is unkindly done to mock his furl  
Whom the world styles omnipotent. I am tortured  
In their want of feeling torments. Marius' story  
That does report him to have sat unmoved  
When cunning Chirurgeons ripped his arteries,  
And veins, to cure his gout compared to this  
Deserves not to be named. Are they not dead?  
If so, we wash an Aethiop.  Sur. 
No, we live.  Rust. 
Live to deride thee, our calm patience treading  
Upon the neck of tyranny. That securely,  
(As 'twere a gentle slumber,) we endure  
Thy hangmens studied tortures, is a debt  
we owe to grave Philosophy, that instructs us  
The flesh is but the clothing of the soul  
Which growing out of fashion though it be  
Cast of, or rent, or torn, like ours, 'tis then  
Being itself divine, in her best luster.  
But unto such as thou, that have no hopes  
Beyond the present, every little scar;  
The want of rest; excess of heat or, cold  
That does inform them, only they are mortal,  
Pierce through, and through them.  Caes. 
We will hear no more,  Rust. 
This only, and I give thee warning of it.  
Though it is in thy will to grind this earth,  
As small as atoms, they thrown in the Sea to.  
They shall seem recollected to thy sense,  
And when the sandy building of thy greatness,  
Shall with its own weight totter; look to see me  
As I was yesterday, in my perfect shape,  
For I'll appear in horror.  Caes. 
By my shaking  
I am the guilty man, and not the judge.  
Drag from my sight, these cursed ominous wizards,  
That as they are now like to double faced janus  
Which way soe'er I look, are furies to me.  
Away with 'em. First show them death, then leave Exeunt Hangmen with Rusticus and Sura. Stephanos following.  
No memory of their ashes I'll mock fate.  
Shall words fright him, victorious Army's circle?  
No, no, the fever does begin to leave me.  Enter Domitia, julia, Caenis. 
Or were it deadly, from this living fountain  
I could renew the vigour of my youth,  
And be a second Verbius. O my glory!  
My life I command I my all! Embracing and kissing mutually.  Domit. 
As you to me are.  
I heard you were sad; I have prepared you sport  
Will banish melancholy. Sirrah, Caesar,  
(I hug myself for't) I have been instructing  
The Players how to act, and to cut off  
All tedious impertinency, have contracted  
The Tragedy, into one continued Scene.  
I have the art of't, and am taken more  
With my ability that way, than all knowledge  
I have but of thy love.  Caes. 
Thou art still thyself,  
The sweetest, wittiest.  Domit. 
When we are a-bed  
I'll thank your good opinion. Thou shalt see  
Such an Iphis of thy Paris, and to humble  
The pride of Domitilla that neglects me  
( howe'er she is your cousin) I have forced her  
To play the part of Anaxerete.  
You are not offended with it?  Caes. 
Any thing  
That does content thee yields delight to me.  
My faculties, and powers are thine.  Domit. 
I thank you  
Prithee let's take our places. bid'em enter After a short flourish, enter Paris as Iphis.  
Without more circumstance, how do you like  
That shape? methinks it is most suitable  
To the aspect of a despairing lover.  
The seeming late fall'n, counterfeited tears  
That hang upon his cheeks, was my device.  Caes. 
And all was excellent.  Domit. 
Now hear him speak.  Par. 
That she is fair (and that an epithet  
too foul to express her or descended nobly,  
Or rich, or fortunate, and certain truth's  
In which poor Iphis glories. But that these  
Perfections, in no other Virgin found,  
Abused, should nourish cruelty, and pride,  
In the divinest Anaxarete,  
Is, to my lovesick languishing soul, a riddle,  
And with more difficulty to be dissolved,  
Then that, the monster Sphinx from the steepy rock  
Offered to Oedipus. Imperious love,  
As at thy ever flaming Altars Iphis  
Thy never tired votary hath presented  
With scalding tears whose Hecatombs of sighs,  
Preferring thy power, and thy Paphian mothers  
Before the thunderers, Neptunes, or Pluto's  
(That after Saturn did divide the world  
And had the sway of things) yet were compelled  
By thy unevitable shafts to yield  
And sight under thy ensigns, be auspicious  
To this late trial of my sacrifice  
Of love, and service.  Domit. 
does he not act it rarely?  
Observe with what a feeling he delivers  
His orisons to Cupid; I am raped with't.  Par. 
And from thy never emptied quiver take  
A golden arrow, to transfix her heart  
And force her love like me, or cure my wound  
With a leaden one, that may beget in me  
Hate and forgetfulness, of what's now my Idol.  
But I call back my prayer, I have blasphemed  
In my rash wish. 'Tis I that am unworthy,  
But she all merit, and may in justice challenge  
From the assurance of her excellencies  
Not love, but adoration. Yet bear witness  
All knowing powers, I bring along with me  
As faithful advocates to make intercession  
A loyal heart, with pure, and holy flames  
With the foul fires of lust never polluted.  
And as I touch her threshold (which with tears  
My limbs benumbed with cold, I oft have washed)  
With my glad lips I kiss this earth grown proud  
With frequent favours from her delicate feet.  Domit. 
By Caesar's life he weeps. And I forbear  
Hardly to keep him company.  Par. 
Blessed ground thy pardon  
If I profane it with forbidden steps.  
I must presume to knock, and yet attempt it  
With such a trembling reverence as if  
My hands held up, for expiation  
To the incensed Gods to spare a kingdom.  
Within there, hoe? something divine come forth  
To a distressed mortal. Enter Latinus as a Porter.  Lat. 
Ha! Who knocks there?  Domit. 
What a churlish look this knave has  Lat. 
Is't you Sirrah?  
Are you come to pule and whine? avaunt, and quickly.  
Dogwhips shall drive you hence else.  Domit. 
Churlish devil?  
But that I should disturb the Scene, as I live  
I would tear his eyes out.  Caes. 
'Tis in jest Domitia,  Domit. 
I do not like such jesting, if he were not  
A flinty hearted slave, he could not use  
One of his form so harshly. How the toad swells  
At the others sweet humility!  Caes. 
'Tis his part  
Let 'em proceed.  Domit. 
A rogue's part, will ne'er leave him  Par. 
As you have gentle Sir, the happiness  
(When you please) to behold the figure of  
The master piece of nature, limned to the life,  
In more than humane Anaxerete,  
Scorn not your servant, that with suppliant hands  
Takes hold upon your knees, conjuring you  
As you are a man, and did not suck the milk  
Of Wolves, and Tigers, or a mother of  
A tougher temper, use some means these eyes  
Before they are wept out, may see your Lady.  
Will you be gracious Sir?  Lat. 
Though I lose my place for't  
I can hold out no longer.  Domit. 
Now he melts  
There is some little hope he may die honest  Lat. 
Madam. Enter Domitilla for Anaxerete.  Domit. 
Who calls? what object have we here?  Domit. 
Your cousin keeps her proud state still I think  
I have fitted her for a part.  Domit. 
Did I not charge thee  
I ne'er might see this thing more?  Par. 
I am indeed  
What thing you please, a Worm that you may tread on,  
Lower I cannot fall to show my duty,  
Till your disdain hath digged a grave to cover  
This body with forgotten dust, and when  
I know your sentence, cruelest of women)  
I'll by a willing death remove the object  
That is an eyesore to you.  Domit. 
Wretch thou dar'st not.  
That were the last, and greatest service to me  
Thy doting love could boast of. What dull fool  
But thou could nourish any flattering hope  
One of my height, in youth, in birth and fortune  
Could e'er descend to look upon thy lowness?  
Much less consent to make my Lord of one  
I would not accept, though offered for my slave,  
My thoughts stoop not so low.  Domit. 
There's her true nature  
No personated scorn.  Domit. 
I wrong my worth  
Or to exchange a syllable or look,  
With one so far beneath me.  Par. 
Yet take heed,  
Take heed of pride, and curiously consider  
How brittle the foundation is, on which  
You labour to advance it. Niobe  
Proud of her numerous issue durst contemn  
Latona's double burden but what followed?  
She was left a childless mother, and mourned to marble.  
The beauty you o'erprize so, time, or sickness  
Can change to loathed deformity, Your wealth  
The prey of thieves; Queen Hecuba Troy fired  
Ulysses bondwoman. But the love I bring you  
Nor time, nor sickness, violent thieves, nor fate  
Can ravish from you.  Domit. 
Could the Oracle  
Give better counsel.  Par. 
Say will you relent yet?  
Revoking your decree that I should die?  
Or shall I do what you command? resolve  
I am impatient of delay.  Domit. 
Dispatch than  
I shall look on your Tragedy unmoved,  
Peradventure laugh at it, for it will prove  
A Comedy to me.  Domit. 
O devil! devil!  Par. 
Then thus I take my last leave. All the curses  
Of lovers fall upon you; and hereafter  
When any man like me contemned, shall study  
In the anguish of his soul to give a name  
To a scornful cruel mistress, let him only  
Say this most bloody woman is to me.  
As Anaxerete was to wretched Iphis.  
Now feast your tyrannous mind, and glory in  
The ruins you have made: for Hymen's bands  
That should have made us one, this fatal halter  
For ever shall divorce us; at your gate  
As a trophy of your pride, and my affliction,  
I'll presently hang myself.  Domit. 
Not for the world.  
Restrain him as you love your lives.  Caes. 
Why are you  
Transported thus Domitia? 'tis a play,  
Or grant it serious, it at no part merits.  
This passion in you.  Par. 
I ne'er purposed Madam  
To do the deed in earnest, though I bow  
To your care, and tenderness of me.  Domit. 
Let me Sir,  
Entreat your pardon, what I saw presented  
Carried me beyond myself.  Caes. 
To your place again  
And see what follows  Domit. 
No I am familiar  
With the conclusion, beside upon the sudden  
I feel myself much indisposed.  Caes. 
To bed then  
I'll be thy Doctor.  Areo. 
There is something more  
In this then passion, which I must find out,  
Or my intelligence freezes.  Domit. 
Come to me Paris  
Tomorrow for your reward  Steph. 
Patroness hear me  
Will you not call for your share? sit down with this,  
And the next action like a gaditan strumpet  
I shall look to see you tumble.  Domit. 
Prithee be patient.  
I that have suffered greater wrongs bear this  
And that till my revenge my comfort is. Exeunt.  
The end of the third Act.    


ACTVS, IV. SCAENA, 1.  Enter Parthenius, julia, Domitilla, Caenis. Parth. 
Why 'tis impossible Paris?  Iul. 
You observed not  
(As it appears) the violence of her passion,  
When personating Iphis, he pretended  
(For your contempt fair Anaxerete)  
To hang himself.  Parth. 
Yes, yes, I noted that;  
But never could imagine it could work her  
To such a strange intemperance of affection,  
As to dote on him.  Domit. 
By my hopes I think not  
That she respects though all here saw, and marked it  
Presuming she can mould the emperor's will  
Into what form she likes, though we, and all  
Th'informers of the world conspired to cross it.  Caen. 
Then with what eagerness this morning urging  
The want of health, and rest, she did entreat  
Caesar to leave her.  Domit. 
Who no sooner absent  
But she calls Dwarf (so in her scorn she styles me)  
Put on my pantofles, fetch pen, and paper  
I am to write, and with distracted looks,  
In her smock, impatient of so short delay  
As but to have a mantle thrown upon her,  
She sealed I know not what but 'twas endorsed  
To my loved Paris.  Iul. 
Add to this I heard her  
Sav, when a page received it; let him wait me  
And carefully in the walk, called our retreat,  
Where Caesar in his fear to give offence,  
Unsent for never enters.  Parth. 
This being certain  
(For these are more than jealous suppositions)  
Why do not you that are so near in blood  
Discover it?  Domit. 
Alas you know we dare not.  
'Twill be received for a malicious practice  
To free us from that slavery, which her pride  
Imposes on us. But if you would please  
To break the ice on pain to be sunk ever  
We would aver it.  Parth. 
I would second you,  
But that I am commanded with all speed  
To fetch in Ascletario the Chaldaean  
Who in his absence is condemned of treason  
For calculating the nativity  
Of Caesar, with all confidence foretelling  
In every circumstance when he shall die  
A violent death. Yet if you could approve  
Of my directions I would have you speak  
As much to Aretinus, as you have  
To me delivered. He in his own nature  
Being a spy, on weaker grounds no doubt  
Will undertake it, not for goodness sake  
(With which he never yet held correspondence)  
But to endear his vigilant observings  
Of what concerns the Emperor, and a little  
To triumph in the ruins of this Paris Enter Aretinus.  
That crossed him in the Senate house. Here he comes  
His nose held up, he hath something in the wind,  
Or I much err already. My designs  
Command me hence great Ladies, but I leave  
My wishes with you. Exit Parthenius.  Aret. 
Have I caught your greatness  
In the trap my proud Augusta?  Domit. 
What is't saps him?  Aret. 
And my fine Roman Actor? is't even so?  
No courser dish to take your wanton palate  
Save that which but the Emperor none durst cast off?  
'tis very well. I needs must glory in  
This rare discovery, but the rewards  
Of my intelligence, bid me think even now,  
By an edict from Caesar I have power,  
To tread upon the neck of slavish Rome,  
Disposing offices, and Provinces,  
To my kinsmen, friends and clients.  Domit. 
This is more  
Than usual with him,  Iul. 
Aretinus?  Aret. 
How?  
No more respect and reverence tendered to me  
But Aretinus! 'tis confessed that title  
When you were Princesses, and commanded all  
Had been a favour; but being as you are  
Vassals to a proud woman, the worst bondage,  
You stand obliged with as much adoration  
To entertain him, that comes armed with strength,  
To break your fetters, as tanned galley-slaves  
Pay such as do redeem them from the oar  
I come not to entrap you, But aloud  
Pronounce that you are manumised, and to make  
Your liberty sweeter, you shall see her fall,  
(This Empress, this Domitia, what you will)  
That triumphed in your miseries.  Domit. 
Were, you serious  
To prove your accusation, I could lend  
Some help.  Caen. 
And I.  Iul. 
And I.  Aret. 
No atom to me.  
My eyes, and ears are everywhere, I know all,  
To the line and action in the play that took her;  
Her quick dissimulation to excuse  
Her being transported, with her morning passion;  
I bribed the boy that did convey the letter,  
And having perused it, made it up again:  
Your griefs, and angers, are to me familiar;  
That Paris is brought to her, and how far,  
He shall be tempted.  Domit. 
This is above wonder.  Aret. 
My gold can work much stranger miracles  
Than to corrupt poor waiters. Here join with me  
'Tis a complaint to Caesar. This is that  
Shall ruin her, and raise you. Have you set your hands  
To the accusation.  Iul. 
And will justify  
What we have subscribed to.  Caen. 
And with vehemency.  Domit. 
I will deliver it.  Aret. 
Leave the rest to me then  Enter Caesar with his Guard. Caes. 
Let our Lieutenants bring us victory,  
While we enjoy the fruits of peace at home,  
And being secured from our intestive foes,  
Far worse than foreign enemies, doubts, and fears,  
Though all the sky were hung with blazing meteors,  
Which fond Astrologers give out to be  
Assured presages of the change of Empires,  
And deaths of Monarchs, we undaunted yet  
Guarded with our own thunder, bid defiance,  
To them, and fate, we being too strongly armed  
For them to wound us.  Aret. Caesar. Iul. 
As thou art  
More than a man.  Caen. 
Let not thy passions be  
Rebellious to thy reason.  The Petition delivered. Domit. 
But receive  
This trial of your constancy, as unmoved  
As you go to, or from the Capitol,  
Thanks given to love for triumphs?  Caes. 
Ha!  Domit. 
Vouchsafe  
A while to stay the lightning of your eyes.  
Poor mortals dare not look on.  Aret. 
There's no vein  
Of yours, that rises high with rage, but is  
An earthquake to us.  Domit. 
And if not kept closed  
With more than humane patience in a moment  
Will swallow us to the centre.  Caen. 
Not that we  
Repine to serve her, are we her accusers.  Iul. 
But that she's fall'n so low.  Aret. 
Which on sure proofs  
We can make good.  Domitil. 
And Show she is unworthy  
Of the least spark of that diviner fire  
You have conferred upon her.  Caes. 
I stand doubtful.  
And unresolved what to determine of you.  
In this malicious violence you have offered  
To the Altar of her truth, and pureness to me,  
You have but fruitlessly laboured to sully  
A white robe of perfection, black mouthed envy  
Could belch no spot on. But I will put off  
The deity, you labour to take from me,  
And argue out of probabilities with you  
As if I wear a man. Can I believe  
That she, that borrows all her light from me,  
And knows to use it, would betray her darkness  
To your intelligence, and make that apparent.  
Which by her perturbations in a play  
Was yesterday but doubted and find none,  
But you that are her slaves, and therefore hate her  
Whose aids she might employ to make way for her?  
Or Aretinus whom long since she knew  
To be the Cabinet counsellor, nay the key  
Of Caesar's secrets? could her beauty raise her  
To this unequalled height to make her fall  
The more remarkable? or must my desires  
To her, and wrongs to Lamia be revenged  
By her, and on herself that drew on both?  
Or she leave our imperial bed to court  
A public actor?  Aret. 
who dares contradict  
These more than human reasons, that have power  
To clothe base guilt, in the most glorious shape  
Of innocence?  Domit. 
To well she knew the strength,  
And eloquence of her patron to defend her,  
And thereupon presuming fell securely,  
Not fearing an accuser, nor the truth,  
Produced against her, which your love and savour  
Will ne'er discern from falsehood.  Caes. 
I'll not here  
A syllable more that may invite a change  
In my opinion of her. You have raised,  
A fiercer war within me by this fable,  
(Though with your lives you vow to make it story)  
Then if, and at one instant all my legions  
Revolted from me, and came armed against me.  
Here in this paper are the swords predestined  
For my destruction; here the fatal stars  
That threaten more than ruin; this the death's head  
That does assure me, if she can prove false  
That I am mortal, which a sudden fever  
Would prompt me to believe, and faintly yield to.  
But now in my full confidence what she suffers,  
In that, from any witness but myself,  
I nourish a suspicion she's untrue,  
My toughness returns to me. Lead on Monsters,  
And by the forfeit of your lives confirm  
She is all excellence, as you all baseness,  
Or let mankind for her fall, boldly swear  
There are no chaste wives now, nor ever were.  Exeunt omnes.  

ACTVS, IV. SCAENA, 2.  Enter Domitia, Paris, Servants. Domit. 
Say we command, that none presume to dare  
On forfeit of our favour, that is life,  
Out of a saucy curiousness to stand  
Within the distance of their eyes, or ears,  
Till we please to be waited on. And sirrah Exeunt servants.  
howe'er you are excepted, let it not  
Beget in you an arrogant opinion  
'Tis done to grace you.  Par. 
With my humblest service  
I but obey your summons, and should blush else  
To be so near you.  Domit. 
'Twould become you rather  
To fear, the greatness of the grace vouchsafed you  
May overwhelm you, and 'twill do no less  
If when you are rewarded, in your cups  
You boast this privacy.  Par. 
That were mightiest Empress  
To play with lightning.  Domit. 
You conceive it right.  
The means to kill, or save, is not alone  
In Caesar circumscribed, for if incensed  
We have our thunder to, that strikes as deadly.  Par. 
'Twould ill become the lowness of my fortune  
To question what you can do, but withal  
Humility to attend what is your will,  
And then to serve it.  Domit. 
And would not a secret  
(Suppose we should commit it to your trust)  
Scald you to keep it?  Par. 
Though it raged within me  
Till I turned cinders, it should ne'er have vent.  
To be an age a dying, and with torture  
Only to be thought worthy of your counsel,  
Or actuate what you command to me  
A wretched obscure thing, not worth your knowledge,  
Were a perpetual happiness.  Domit. 
We could wish  
That we could credit thee, and cannot find  
In reason but that thou whom oft I have seen  
To personate a Gentleman, noble, wise,  
Faithful, and gainsome, and what virtues else  
The Poet pleases to adorn you with  
(But that as vessels still partake the odour  
Of the sweet precious liquours they contained)  
Thou must be really in some degree  
The thing thou dost present. Nay do not tremble,  
We seriously believe it, and presume  
Our Paris is the volume in which all  
Those excellent gifts the Stage hath seen him graced with  
Are curiously bound up.  Par. 
The argument  
Is the same great Augusta, that I acting,  
A fool, a coward, a traitor or cold cynic  
Or any other weak, and vicious person  
Of force I must be such. O gracious Madam,  
How glorious soever, or deformed,  
I do appear in the Scene, my part being ended,  
And all my borrowed ornaments put off,  
I am no more, nor less than what I was  
Before I entered.  Domit. 
Come you would put on  
A wilful ignorant, and not understand,  
What 'tis we point at. Must we in plain language,  
Against the decent modesty of our sex  
Say that we love thee, love thee to enjoy thee,  
Or that in our desires thou art preferred  
And Caesar but thy second? thou in justice  
If from the height of Majesty we can  
(Look down upon thy lowness and embrace it,)  
Art bound with fervour to look up to me.  Par. 
O Madam hear me with a patient ear  
And be but pleased to understand the reasons  
That do deter me from a happiness  
Kings would be rivals for. Can I that owe,  
My life, and all that's mine to Caesar's bounties  
Beyond my hopes, or merits showered upon me,  
Make payment for them with ingratitude,  
Falsehood, and treason? Though you have a shape  
Might tempt Hippolytus, and larger power  
To help, or hurt, then wanton Phaedra had,  
Let loyalty, and duty plead my pardon  
Though I refuse to satisfy.  Domit. 
You are coy  
Expecting I should court you, let mean Ladies  
Use prayers, and entreaties to their creatures  
To rise up instruments to serve their pleasures;  
But for Augusta so to lose herself  
That holds command o'er Caesar, and the world,  
Were poverty of spirit. Thou must, thou shalt,  
The violence of my passions knows no mean,  
And in my punishments, and my rewards  
I'll use no moderation. Take this only  
As a caution from me. Threadbare Chastity,  
Is poor in the advancement of her servants,  
But wantonness magnificent; and 'tis frequent  
To have the Salary of vice weigh down  
The pay of virtue. So without more trifling  
Thy sudden answer.  Par. 
In what a straight am I brought in  
Alas I know that the denial's death  
Nor can my grant discovered threaten more.  
Yet to die innocent, and have the glory  
For all posterity to report that I  
Refused an Empress to preserve my faith  
To my great master, in true judgement must  
Show fairer than to buy a guilty life,  
With wealth, and honours. 'Tis the base I build on,  
I dare not, must not, will not.  Domit. 
How contemned?  
Since hopes, nor fears in the extremes prevail not  
I must use a mean. Think who 'tis sues to thee  
Deny not that yet which a brother may  
Grant to his sister: as a testimony Caesar, Aretinus, julia, Domitilla, Caenis above.  
I am not scorned. Kiss me. Kiss me again.  
Kiss closer. Thou art now my Trojan Paris  
And I thy Helen.  Par. 
Since it is your will.  Caes. 
And I am Menelaus. But I shall be Caesar descends.  
Something I know not yet.  Domit. 
Why lose we time  
And opportunity. These are but salads  
To sharpen appetite. Let us to the feast. Courting Paris wantonly.  
Where I shall wish that thou wert jupiter  
And I Alcmena, and that I had power  
To lengthen out one short night into three,  
And so beget a Hercules.  Caes. 
While Amphitrio  
Stands by, and draws the curtains.  Par. 
o?— falls on his face.  Domit. 
Betrayed?  Caes. 
No, taken in a not of Vulcan's filing,  
Wherein myself the Theater of the Gods  
Are sad spectators, not one of 'em daring  
To witness with a smile he does desire  
To be so shamed for all the pleasure that  
You have sold your being for. What shall I name thee?  
Ungrateful, treacherous, insatiate, all  
Invectives, which in bitterness of spirit  
Wronged men have breathed out against wicked women,  
Cannot express thee. Have I raised thee from  
Thy low condition to the height of greatness,  
Command, and Majesty in one base act  
To render me (that was before I hugged thee)  
An adder in my bosom, more than man  
A thing beneath a boast? did I force these  
Of mine own blood as handmaids to kneel to  
Thy pomp, and pride, having myself no thought.  
But how with benefits to bind thee mine;  
And am I thus rewarded? not a knee?  
Nor tear? nor sign of sorrow for thy fault?  
Break stubborn silence. What canst thou allege  
To stay my vengeance?  Domit. 
This. Thy lust compelled me  
To be a strumpet, and mine hath returned it  
In my intent, and will, though not in act  
To cuckold thee.  Caes. 
O impudence I take her hence,  
And let her make her entrance into hell.  
By leaving life with all the tortures that  
Flesh can be sensible of. Yet stay. What power  
Her beauty still holds o'er my soul that wrongs  
Of this unpardonable nature cannot teach me  
To tight myself and hate her?- Kill her.- Hold.  
O that my dotage should increase from that  
Which should breed detestation. By Minerva  
If I look on her longer. I shall melt  
And sue to her. My injuries forgot  
Again to be received into her favour  
Could honour yield to it! Carry her to her Chamber,  
Be that her prison till in cooler blood  
I shall determine of her. Exit with Domitia.  Aret. 
Now step I in  
While he's in this calm mood for my reward.  
Sir, if my service hath deserved.  Caes. 
Yes. Yes,  
And I'll reward thee, thou hast robbed me of  
All rest, and peace, and been the principal means  
To make me know that, of which if again Enter Guard.  
I could be ignorant of. I would purchase it  
With the loss of Empire; strangle him, take these hence to  
And lodge them in the dungeon, could your reason  
Dull wretches flatter you with hope to think  
That this discovery that hath showered upon me  
Perpetual vexation should not fall  
Heavy on you? away with 'em, stop their mouths  
I will hear no reply, O Paris. Paris Exeunt Guard Aretinus, julia, Caenis, Domitilla.  
How shall I argue with thee? how begin,  
To make thee understand before I kill thee,  
With what grief and unwillingness 'tis forced from me?  
Yet in respect I have favoured thee. I will here  
What thou canst speak to qualify, or excuse  
Thy readiness to serve this woman's lust.  
And wish thou couldst give me such satisfaction  
As I might bury the remembrance of it:  
Look up. We stand attentive;  Par. 
O dread Caesar,  
To hope for life, or plead in the defence  
Of my ingratitude were again to wrong you.  
I know I have deserved death. And my suit is  
That you would hasten it: yet that your highness  
When I am dead (as sure I will not live)  
May pardon me I'll only urge my frailty,  
Her will, and the temptation of that beauty  
Which you could not resist. How would poor I then  
Fly that which followed me, and Caesar sued for?  
This is all. And now your sentence.  Caes. 
Which I know not  
How to pronounce, O that thy fault had been  
But such as I might pardon; if thou hadst  
In wantonness (like Nero) sired proud Rome  
Betrayed an army, butchered the whole Senate,  
Committed Sacrilege, or any crime  
The justice of our Roman laws calls death,  
I had prevented any intercession  
And freely signed thy pardon.  Par. 
But for this  
Alas you cannot nay you must not Sir  
Nor let it to posterity be recorded  
That Caesar unrevenged, suffered a wrong,  
Which if a private man should sit down with it  
Cowards would baffle him.  Caes. 
With such true feeling  
Thou arguest against thyself, that it  
Works more upon me, than if my Minerva  
(The grand protectress of my life, and Empire,)  
On forfeit of her favour, cried aloud  
Caesar show mercy. And I know not how  
I am inclined to it. Rise. I'll promise nothing,  
Yet clear thy cloudy fears and cherish hopes,  
What we must do, we shall do; we remember  
A Tragedy, we oft have seen with pleasure,  
Called, the False Servant.  Par. 
Such a one we have Sir.  Caes. 
In which a great Lord takes to his protection  
A man forlorn, giving him ample power  
To order, and dispose of his estate  
In his absence, he pretending then a journey.  
But yet with this restraint that on no terms  
This Lord suspecting his wife's constancy  
(She having played false to a former husband)  
The servant though solicited should consent  
Though she commanded him to quench her flames.  Par. 
That was indeed the argument.  Caes. 
And what  
Didst thou play in it?  Par. 
The false servant Sir.  Caes. 
Thou didst indeed. Do the Players wait without?  Par. 
They do Sir and prepared to act the story  
Your Majesty mentioned.  Caes. 
Call 'em in. Who presents  
The injured Lord?  Enter AEsopus, Latinus, a Boy dressed for a Lady. AEsop. 
'tis my part Sir,  Caes. 
Thou didst not  
Do it to the life. We can perform it better.  
Off with my Robe, and wreath, since Nero scorned not  
The public Theater, we in private may  
Disport ourselves. This cloak, and hat without  
Wearing a beard, or other property  
Will fit the person.  AEsop. 
Only Sir a foil  
The point, and edge rebutted, when you act  
To do the murder. If you please to use this  
And lay aside your own sword.  Caes. 
By no means.  
In jest nor earnest this parts never from me.  
We'll have but one short Scene. That where the Lady  
In an imperious way commands the servant  
To be unthankful to his patron when  
My cue's to enter prompt me nay begin  
And do it spritely though but a new Actor,  
When I come to execution you shall find  
No cause to laugh at me.  Lat. 
In the name of wonder  
What's Caesar's purpose?  AEsop. 
There is no contending.  Caes. 
Why when?  Par. 
I am armed.  
And stood grim death now within my view and his  
Unevitable dart aimed at my breast  
His cold embraces should not bring an ague  
To any of my faculties, till his pleasures  
Were served, and satisfied, which done Nestor's years,  
To me would be unwelcome.  Boy. 
Must we entreat,  
That were borne to command, or court a servant  
(That owes his food and clothing to our bounty)  
For that, which thou ambitiously shouldst kneel for?  
Urge not in thy excuse the favours of  
Thy absent Lord, or that thou standst engaged  
For thy life to his Charity; nor thy fears  
Of what may follow, it being in my power  
To mould him any way.  Par. 
As you may me  
In what his reputation is not wounded  
Nor I his creature in my thankfulness suffer.  
I know you are young, and fair, be virtuous too  
And loyal to his bed, that hath advanced you  
To th'height of happiness.  Boy. 
Can my lovesick heart  
Be cured with counsel? or durst reason ever  
Offer to put in an exploded plea  
In the Court of Venus. My desires admit not  
The least delay. And therefore instantly  
Give me to understand what I shall trust to.  
For if I am refused, and not enjoy  
Those ravishing pleasures from thee, I run mad for;  
I'll swear unto my Lord at his return  
(Making what I deliver good with tears)  
That brutishly thou wouldst have forced from me  
What I make suit for. And then but imagine  
What 'tis to die with these words slave, and traitor,  
With burning corrosives writ upon thy forehead,  
And live prepared for't.  Par. 
This he will believe  
Upon her information. 'Tis apparent  
And then I am nothing. And of two extremes  
Wisdom says chose the less. Rather than fall  
Under your indignation, I will yield  
This kiss, and this confirms it.  AEsop. 
Now. Sir now.  Caes. 
I must take them at it.  AEsop. 
Yes Sir, be but perfect.  Caes. 
O villain! thankless villain! I should talk now;  
But I have forgot my part. But I can do,  
Thus, thus, and thus. Kills Paris.  Par. 
Oh, I am slain in earnest.  Caes. 
'Tis time, and 'twas my purpose my good Paris  
And yet before life leave thee, let the honour  
I have done thee in thy death bring comfort to thee  
If it had been within the power of Caesar  
His dignity preserved he had pardoned thee.  
But cruelty of honour did deny it.  
Yet to confirm I loved thee? 'twas my study  
To make thy end more glorious to distinguish  
My Paris from all others, and in that  
Have shown my pity. Nor would I let thee fall  
By a Centurions sword, or have thy limbs  
Rent piece meal by the hangman's hook however  
Thy crime deserved it: but as thou didst live  
Rome's bravest Actor, 'twas my plot that thou  
Shouldst die in action, and to crown it die  
With an applause enduring to all times,  
By our imperial hand. His soul is freed  
From the prison of his flesh, let it mount upward.  
And for this trunk when that the funeral pile  
Hath made it ashes, we'll see it enclosed  
In a golden urn. Poets adorn his hearse  
With their most ravishing sorrows, and the stage  
For ever mourn him, and all such as were  
His glad spectators weep his sudden death,  
The cause forgotten in his Epitaph. Exeunt. A sad music the Players bearing off Paris body, Caesar and the rest following.  
The end of the fourth Act.    


ACTVS, V. SCAENA, 1.  Enter Parthenius, Stephanos, Guard. Parth. 
Keep a strong guard upon him, and admit not  
Access to any, to exchange a word,  
Or syllable with him, till the Emperor pleases  
To call him to his presence. The relation  
That you have made me Stephanos of these late  
Strange passions in Caesar, much amaze me.  
The informer Aretinus put to death  
For yielding him a true discovery  
Of th'empress wantonness; poor Paris killed first  
And now lamented; and the Princesses  
Consigned to several Islands, yet Augusta  
The machine on which all this mischief moved  
Received again to grace?  Steph. 
Nay courted to it.  
(Such is the impotence of his affection)  
Yet, to conceal his weakness he gives out  
The people made suit for her, whom they hate more  
Than civil war, or famine. But take heed  
My Lord, that nor in your consent nor wishes  
You lent or furtherance, or favour to  
The plot contrived against her, should she prove it,  
Nay doubt it only you are aloft man  
Her power o'er doting Caesar being now  
Greater than ever.  Parth. 
'Tis a truth I shake at.  
And when there's opportunity.  Steph. 
Say but do  
I am yours, and sure.  Parth. 
I will Stand one trial more  
And than you shall hear from me.  Steph. 
Now observe  
The fondness of this tyrant, and her pride.  Enter Caesar and Domitia. Caes. 
Nay all's forgotten.  Domit. 
It may be on your part.  Caes. 
Forgiven to Domitia 'tis a favour  
That you should welcome with more cheerful looks  
Can Caesar pardon what you durst not hope for  
That did the injury, and yet must sue  
To her whose guilt is washed off by his mercy  
Only to entertain it?  Domit. 
I asked none,  
And I should be more wretched to receive  
Remission (for what I hold no crime)  
But by a bare acknowledgement then if  
By slighting, and contemning it, as now  
I dated thy utmost fury. Though thy flatterers  
Persuade thee, that thy murders, lusts, and rapes  
Are virtues in thee, and what pleases Caesar  
Though never sown just is right, and lawful;  
Or work in thee a false belief that thou  
Art more than mortal, yet I to thy teeth  
(When circled with thy Guards, thy rods, thy axes,  
And all the ensigns of thy boasted power)  
Will say Domitian, nay add to it Caesar  
Is a weak feeble man, a bondman to  
His violent passions, and in that my slave,  
Nay more my slave, than my affections made me  
To my loved Paris.  Caes. 
Can I live, and hear this?  
Or hear and not revenge it? come, you know  
The strength that you hold on me, do not use it  
With too much cruelty, for though 'tis granted  
That Lydian Omphale had less command  
o'er Hercules, than you usurp o'er me,  
Reason may teach me to shake off the yoke  
Of my fond dotage.  Domit. 
Never, do not hope it  
It cannot be. Thou bring my beauty's captive  
And not to be redeemed, my Empire's larger  
Than thine Domitian, which I'll exercise  
With rigor on thee, for my Paris death.  
And when I have forced those eyes now red with fury  
To drop down tears, in vain spent to appease me  
I know thy servor such to my embraces  
(Which shall be, though still kneeled for, still denied thee)  
That thou with languishment shalt wish my Actor  
Did live again, so thou might'st be his second  
To feed upon those delicates, when he's sated.  Caes. 
O my Minerva  Domit. 
There she is invoke her  
She cannot arm thee with ability  
To draw thy sword on me, my power being greater  
Or only say to thy Centurions  
Dare none of you do what I shake to think on?  
And in this woman's death remove the furies  
That every hour afflict me? Lamia's wrongs  
When thy lust forced me from him, are in me  
At the height revenged, nor would I outlive Paris  
But that thy love increasing with my hate  
May add unto thy torments, so withal  
Contempt I can I leave thee. Exit Domitia.  Caes. 
I am lost  
Nor am I Caesar, when I first betrayed  
The freedom of my faculties, and will  
To this imperious Siren, I laid down  
The Empire of the world, and of myself  
At her proud feet. Sleep all my ireful powers?  
Or is the magic of my dotage such  
That I must still make suit to hear those charms  
That do increase my thraldom? wake my anger,  
For shame break through this Lethargy, and appear  
With usual terror, and enable me  
(Since I wear not a sword to pierce her heart,  
Nor have a tongue to say this let her die)  
Though 'tis done with a fever-shaken hand Pulls out a Table book.  
To sign her death, assist me great Minerva  
And vindicate thy votary. So she's now  
Among the list of those I have prescribed  
And are to free me of my doubts, and fears,  
To die tomorrow. (Writes.)  Steph. 
That same fatal book  
Was never drawn yet, but some men of rank  
Were marked out for destruction.  Parth. 
I begin  
To doubt myself.  Caes. 
Who waits there?  Parth. 
Caesar.  Caes. 
So.  
These that command armed troops quake, at my frowns  
And yet a woman sleights 'em. Where's the Wizard  
we charged you to fetch in?  Parth. 
Ready to suffer  
What death you please t'appoint him.  Caes. 
Bring him in. Enter Ascletario, Tribunes, Guard.  
We'll question him ourself. Now you that hold  
Intelligence with the stars, and dare prefix  
The day and hour in which we are to part  
With life and Empire, punctually foretelling  
The means, and manner of our violent end,  
As you would purchase credit to your art  
Resolve me since you are assured of us  
What fate attends yourself?  Asclet. 
I have had long since  
A certain knowledge, and assure as thou  
Shalt die tomorrow being the fourteenth of  
The Kalenda of October, the hour five  
Spite of prevention, this carcase shall be  
Torn and devoured by dogs, and let that stand for a firm prediction.  Caes. 
May our body wretch  
Find never nobler Sepulchre if this  
Fall ever on thee. Are we the great disposer  
Of life, and death yet cannot mock the stars  
In such a trifle? Hence with the impostor,  
And having cut his throat, erect a pile  
Guarded with soldiers, till his cursed trunk  
Be turned to ashes, upon forfeit of  
Your life, and theirs, perform it.  Asclet. 
'Tis in vain,  
When what I have foretold is made apparent  
Tremble to think what follows.  Caes. 
Drag him hence The Guard bear off Ascletario.  
And do as I command you. I was never  
Fuller of confidence, for having got  
The victory of my passions, in my freedom  
From proud Domitia (who shall cease to live  
Since she disdains to love) I rest unmoved  
And in defiance of prodigious meteors,  
Chaldeans vain predictions, jealous fears  
Of my near friends, and freemen, certain hate  
O kindred, and alliance, or all terrors  
The soldiers doubted faith, or people's rage  
Can bring to shake my constancy I am armed.  
That scrupulous thing stilled Conscience is seared up  
And I insensible of all my actions  
For which by moral and religious fools  
I stand condemned, as they had never been  
And since I have subdued triumphant love  
I will not deify pale captive scare  
Nor in a thought receive it. For till thou  
Wisest Minerva that from my first youth,  
Hast been my sole protectress, dost forsake me  
Not junius Rusticus, threatned apparition,  
Nor what this Soothsayer but e'en now foretold  
(Being things impossible to humane reason)  
Shall in a dream disturb me. Bring my couch there Enter with couch.  
A sudden but a secure drowsiness  
Invites me to repose myself. Let Music  
With some choice ditty second it. I the mean time  
Rest there dear book, which opened when I wake Lays the book under his Pillow, The Music and song. Caesar sleeps.  Enter Parthenius and Domitia. Domit. 
Write my name  
In his bloody scroll Parthenius? the fear's idle  
He durst not, could not.  Parth. 
I can assure nothing  
But I observed when you departed from him  
After some little passion, but much fury,  
He drew it out, whose death he signed I know not  
But in his looks appeared a resolution  
Of what before he staggered at. What he hath  
determined of is uncertain, but too soon  
Will fall on you, or me, or both, or any  
His pleasure known to the Tribunes, and Centurions.  
Who never use to inquire his will but serve it.  
Now if out of the confidence of your power,  
The bloody Catalogue being still about him  
As he sleeps you dare peruse it, or remove it  
You may instruct yourself or what to suffer,  
Or how to cross it.  Domit. 
I would not be caught  
With too much confidence. By your leave Sir. Ha!  
No motion! you lie uneasy Sir,  
Let me mend your Pillow.  Parth. 
Have you it?  Domit. 
'Tis here.  Caes 
Oh.  Parth. 
You have waked him, softly gracious Madam  
While we are unknown, and then consult at leisure.  Exeunt Parthenius, and Domitia. A dreadful Music sounding, Enter junius Rusticus, and Palphurius Sura, with bloody swords, they wave them over his head. Caesar in his sleep troubled, seems to pray to the Image, they scornfully take it away. 
Defend me goddess, or this horrid dream  
Will force me to distraction. Whether have  
These furies borne thee? Let me rise! and follow  
I am bathed o'er with the cold sweat of death,  
And am deprived of organs to pursue  
These sacrilegious spirits. Am I at once  
Robbed of my hopes, and being? No, I live Rises distractedly.  
Yes live, and have discourse to know myself  
Of Gods, and men forsaken. What accuser  
Within me cries aloud, I have deserved it,  
It being just to neither. Who dares speak this?  
Am I not Caesar? how I again repeat it?  
Presumptuous traitor thou shalt die, what traitor?  
He that hath been a traitor to himself  
And stands convicted here. Yet who can sit  
A competent judge over Caesar? Caesar. Yes  
Caesar by Caesar's, sentenced and must suffer  
Minerva cannot save him. Ha! Where is she?  
Where is my goddess? vanished! I am lost then  
No 'twas no dream, but a most real truth  
That junius Rusticus, and Palphurius Sura,  
Although their ashes were cast in the sea  
Whereby their innocence made up again.  
And in corporeal forms but now appeared.  
Waving their bloody swords above my head,  
As at their deaths they threatened. And methought  
Minerva ravished hence whispered that she  
Was for my blasphemies disarmed by jove  
And could no more protect me. Yes 'twas so,  
His thunder does confirm it, against which thunder and lightning.  
howe'er it spare the laurel, this proud wreath  
Is no assurance. Ha! come you resolved Enter 3. Tribunes.  
To be my executioners?  1. Trib. 
Allegiance  
And faith forbid that we should lift an arm  
Against your sacred head.  2. Trib. 
We rather sue  
For mercy.  3. Trib. 
And acknowledge that in justice  
Our lives are forfeited for not performing  
What Caesar charged us.  1. Trib. 
Nor did we transgress it  
In our want of will, or care, for being but men  
It could not be in us to make resistance,  
The Gods fighting against us.  Caes. 
Speak in what  
Did they express their anger? we will hear it  
But dare not say undaunted.  1. Trib. 
In brief thus Sir.  
The Sentence given by your imperial tongue  
For the ginger Ascletario's death  
With speed was put in execution.  Caes. 
Well.  1. Trib. 
For his throat out, his legs bound, and his arms  
Pinioned behind his back, the breathless trunk  
Was with all scorn dragged to the field of Mars  
And there a pile being raised of old dry wood,  
Smeared o'er with oil, and brimstone, or what else  
Could help to feed, or to increase the fire  
The Carcase was thrown on it; but no sooner  
The stuff, that was most apt, began to flame;  
But suddenly to the amazement of  
The fearless soldier, a sudden flash  
Of lightning breaking through the scattered clouds  
With such a horrid violence forced its passage  
And as disdaining all heat but itself  
In a moment quenched the artificial fire.  
And before we could kindle it again  
A clap of thunder followed with such noise,  
As if then jove incensed against mankind,  
Had in his secret purposes determined  
An universal ruin to the world.  
This horror past, not at Deucalion's flood  
Such a stormy shower of rain (and yet that word is  
too narrow to express it) was e'er seen  
Imagine rather Sir, that with less fury  
The Waves rush down the Cataracts of Nile;  
Or that the Sea spouted into the air  
By the angry ork, endangering tall ships  
But sailing near it, so falls down again,  
Yet here the wonder ends not, but begins  
For as in vain we laboured to consume  
The witch's body, all the Dogs of Rome  
Howling, and yelling like to famished wolves  
broke in upon us, and though thousands were  
Killed in th'attempt some did ascend the pile  
And with their eager fangs ceased on the carcase.  Caes. 
But have they torn it?  1. Trib. 
Torn it, and devoured it.  Caes. 
I then am a dead man since all predictions  
Assure me I am lost; O my loved soldiers  
Your Emperor must leave you: yet however  
I cannot grant myself a short reprieve  
I freely pardon you. The fatal hour  
Steals fast upon me. I must die this morning  
By five my soldiers, that's the latest hour  
You e'er must see me living.  1. Trib. 
jove avert it  
In our swords lies your fate, and we will guard it.  Caes. 
O no, it cannot be, it is decreed,  
Above, and by no strengths here to be altered.  
Let proud mortality but look on Caesar  
Compassed of late with armies, in his eyes  
Carrying both life, and death, and in his arms  
fathoming the earth; that would be styled a God,  
And is for that presumption cast beneath  
The low condition of a common man,  
Sinking with mine own weight,  1. Trib. 
Do not forsake,  
yourself we'll never leave you.  2. Trib. 
we'll draw up  
More cohorts of your Guard, if you doubt treason.  Caes. 
They cannot save me. The offended Gods  
That now sit judges on me, from their envy  
Of my power and greatness here, conspire against me.  1. Trib. 
Endeavour to appease them.  Caes. 
'Twill be fruitless  
I am past hope of remission. Yet could I  
Decline this dreadful hour of five, these terrors  
That drive me to despair would soon fly from me  
And could you but till then assure me,  1. Trib. 
Yes Sir,  
Or we'll fall with you, and make Rome the urn  
In which we'll mix our ashes.  Caes. 
'tis said nobly,  
I am something comforted. howe'er to die  
Is the full period of calamity. Exeunt.   

ACTVS, V. SCAENA, 2.  Enter Parthenius, Domitia, julia, Caenis Domitilla, Stephanos, Sijeius, Entellus. Parth. 
You see we are all condemned, there's no evasion,  
We must do or suffer.  Steph. 
But it must be sudden  
The least delay is mortal.  Domit. 
Would I were  
A man to give it action.  Domit: 
Could I make my approaches though my stature  
Does promise little, I have a spirit as daring  
As hers, that can reach higher.  Steph. 
I will take  
That burden from you Madam. All the art is  
To draw him from the Tribunes that attend him  
For could you bring him but within my swords reach  
The world should owe her freedom from a tyrant,  
To Stephanos.  Sige. 
You shall not share alone  
The glory of a deed that will endure  
To all posterity.  Entel. 
I will put in  
For a part myself.  Parth. 
Be resolute, and stand close.  
I have conceived a way, and with the hazard  
Of my life I'll practise it to fetch him hither.  
But then no trifling.  Steph. 
We'll dispatch him fear not  
A dead dog never bites.  Parth. 
Thus then at all Parthenius goes off the rest stand aside  Enter Caesar and the Tribunes. Caes. 
How slow paced are these minutes! in extremes  
How miserable is the least delay  
Could I jump feathers to the wings of time  
Or with as little ease command the Sun  
To scourge his coursers up heaven's eastern hill  
Making the hour I tremble at past recalling  
As I can move this dial's tongue to six,  
My veins, and arteries emptied with fear  
Would fill and swell again. How do I look?  
Do you yet see death about me:  1. Trib. 
Think not of him  
There is no danger all these prodigies  
That do affright you rise from natural causes,  
And though you do ascribe them to yourself,  
Had you ne'er been, had happened  Caes. 
'Tis well said,  
Exceeding well brave soldier. Can it be  
That I that feel myself in health and strength  
Should still believe I am so near my end,  
And have my guards about me? perish all  
Predictions. I grow constant they are false  
And built upon uncertainties.  1. Trib. 
This is right.  
Now Caesar's hard like Caesar.  Caes. 
We will to  
The Camp, and having there confirmed the soldier  
With a large Donative, and increase of pay  
Some shall. I say no more. Enter Parthenius.  Parth. 
All happiness  
Security, long life attend upon  
The Monarch of the World.  Caes. 
Thy looks are cheerful,  Parth. 
And my relation full of joy and wonder.  
Why is the care of your imperial body  
My Lord neglected the feared hour being passed  
In which your your life was threatened.  Caes. 
Is't past five?  Parth. 
Past six upon my knowledge, and injustice  
Your Clock master should die that hath deferred  
Your peace so long. There is a post new lighted  
That brings assured intelligence, that your legions  
In Siria have won a glorious day,  
And much enlarged your Empire. I have kept him  
Concealed that you might first partake the pleasure  
In private, and the Senate from yourself  
Be taught to understand how much they owe  
To you and to your fortune.  Caes. 
Hence pale fear then  
Lead me Parthenius.  1. Trib. 
Shall we wait you?  Caes. 
No  
After losses Guards are useful, know your distance. Exeunt Caesar and Parthenius.  2. Trib. 
How strangely hopes delude men, as I live  
The hour is not yet come.  1. Trib. 
howe'er we are  
To pay our duties, and observe the sequel. Exeunt Trib.  Enter Caesar, and Parthenius. Domit. 
I hear him coming, be constant.  Caes. 
Where Parthenius is this glad messenger.  Steph. 
Make the door fast. Here, a messenger of horror.  Caes. 
How! betrayed?  Domit. 
No taken tyrant.  Caes. 
My Domitia in the conspiracy!  Parth. 
Behold this book.  Caes. 
Nay then I am lost. Yet though I am unarmed  
I'll not fall poorly. o'erthrows Stephanos.  Steph. 
Help me.  Entel. 
Thus, and thus.  Sije. 
Are you so long a falling?  Caes. 
'Tis done, 'tis done basely. falls, and dies.  Parth. 
This for my Father's death.  Domit. 
This for my Paris,  Iul, 
This for thy Incest These severally stab him.  Domit 
This for thy abuse of Domitilla.  Enter Tribunes. 1. Trib. 
Force the doors. O Mars!  
What have you done.  Parth. 
What Rome shall give us thanks for.  Steph. 
Dispatched a Monster.  1. Trib. 
Yet he was our Prince  
however wicked, and in you this murder  
Which whosoever succeeds him will revenge,  
Nor will we that served under his command  
Consent that such a monster as thyself  
(For in thy wickedness, Augusta's title  
Hath quite forsook thee) thou that wert the ground  
Of all these mischiefs, shall go hence unpunished.  
Lay hands on her. And drag her to sentence,  
We will refer the hearing to the Senate  
Who may at their best leisure censure you  
Take up his body. He in death hath paid  
For all his cruelties. here's the difference  
Good Kings are mourned for after life, but ill  
And such as governed only by their will  
And not their reason. Unlamented fall  
No goodman's tear shed at their Funeral. Exeunt omnes.  flourish.  
FINIS.