THE prophetess.  

Actus primus.  

Scaena prima.  Enter Charinus, Aurelia, Niger. Char. 
You buzz into my head strange likelihoods,  
and fill me full of doubts; But what proofs (Niger,)  
what certainties, that my most noble Brother  
came to his end by murder? Tell me that,  
assure me by some circumstance.  Nigre 
I will Sir.  
And as I tell you truth, so the gods prosper me.  
I have often named this Aper.  Char. 
True, ye have done:  
and in mysterious senses I have heard ye  
break out o'th' sudden, and abruptly.  Nigre 
True, Sir.  
Fear of your unbelief, and the Time's giddiness  
made me I durst not then go farther. So your Grace please  
out of your wonted goodness to give credit,  
I shall unfold the wonder.  Aur. 
Do it boldly:  
you shall have both our hearty loves, and hearings.  Nigre 
This Aper then, this too much honoured villain,  
(for he deserves no mention of a good man)  
great Sir, give ear: This most ungrateful, spiteful,  
above the memory of mankind mischievous,  
with his own bloody hands.  Char. 
Take heed.  Nig. 
I am in, Sir;  
and if I make not good my story.  Aur. 
Forward:  
I see a Truth would break out: be not fearful.  Nig. 
I say, this Aper, and his damned Ambition,  
cut off your Brother's hopes, his life, and fortunes:  
the honoured Numerianus fell by him,  
fell basely, most untimely, and most treacherously:  
For in his Litter, as he bore him company,  
most privately and cunningly he killed him;  
yet still he fills the faithful soldier's ears  
with stories of his weakness; of his life;  
that he dare not venture to appear in open,  
and show his warlike face among the soldiers;  
the tenderness and weakness of his eyes,  
being not able to endure the Sun yet.  
Slave that he is, he gives out this infirmity  
(because he would dispatch his honour too)  
to arise from wantonness, and love of women,  
and thus he juggles still.  Aur. 
O most pernicious,  
most bloody, and most base! Alas, dear Brother,  
art thou accused, and after death thy memory  
loaden with shames and lies? Those pious tears  
thou daily showeredst upon my father's Monument,  
(when in the Persian Expedition  
he fell unfortunately by a stroke of thunder)  
made thy defame and sins? Those wept out eyes,  
the fair examples of a noble Nature,  
those holy drops of Love, turned by depravers  
(malicious poisoned tongues) to thy abuses?  
We must not suffer this.  Char. 
It shows a truth now:  
and sure this Aper is not right nor honest,  
he will not now come near me.  Nig. 
No, he dare not:  
He has an inmate here, that's called a conscience,  
bids him keep off.  Char. 
My Brother honoured him,  
made him first Captain of his Guard, his next friend;  
then to my mother (to assure him nearer)  
he made him husband.  Nig. 
And withal ambitious:  
for when he trod so nigh, his false feet itched Sir,  
to step into the State.  Aur. 
If ye believe, Brother,  
Aper a bloody knave (as 'tis apparent)  
Let's leave disputing, and do something Noble.  Char. 
Sister be ruled, I am not yet so powerful,  
to meet him in the field: He has under him  
the flower of all the Empire, and the strength,  
the Britain and the  Cohorts; pray ye be patient.  
Niger, how stands the Soldier to him?  Nig. 
In fear, more Sir,  
than love or honour: he has lost their fair affections,  
by his most covetous and greedy griping.  
Are ye desirous to do something on him,  
that all the world may know ye loved your Brother?  
and do it safely too, without an Army?  Char. 
Most willingly.  Nig. 
Then send out a Proscription,  
send suddenly: And to that man that executes it,  
(I mean, that brings his head) add a fair payment,  
no common sum: than ye shall see, I fear not,  
even from his own camp, from those men that follow him,  
follow, and flatter him, we shall find one,  
and if he miss, one hundred that will venture it.  Aur. 
For his reward, it shall be so, dear Brother,  
so far I'll honour him that kills the villain:  
for so far runs my love to my dead Brother,  
let him be what he will; base, old, or crooked,  
he shall have Me: Nay, which is more, I'll love him.  
I will not be denied.  Char. 
You shall not, Sister.  
But ye shall know, my Love shall go along too:  
See a Proscription drawn; And for his recompense,  
my Sister, and half partner in the Empire:  
and I will keep my word.  Aur. 
Now ye do bravely.  Nig. 
And though it cost my life, I'll see it published.  Char. 
Away then, for the business.  Nig. 
I am gone, Sir:  
you shall have all dispatched tonight.  Char. 
Be prosperous.  Aur. 
And let the villain fall.  Nig. 
Fear nothing Madam. Exeunt.   

Scaena Secunda.  Enter Delphia and Drusilla. Dru. 
'Tis true, that Diocles is courteous,  
and of a pleasant nature, sweet and temperate:  
his x Maximinian, proud and bloody.  Del. 
Yes: and mistrustful too (my Girl) take heed,  
although he seem to love thee, and affect  
like the more Courtier, curious compliment,  
yet have a care.  Dru. 
You know all my affection,  
and all my heart-desires is set on Diocles.  
But (Aunt) how coldly he requites this courtesy,  
how dull and heavily he looks upon me,  
although I woo him sometimes beyond modesty,  
beyond a virgin's care: how still he flights me,  
and puts me still off with your Prophecy,  
and the performance of your late Prediction,  
that when he is Emperor, than he will marry me,  
alas, what hope of that?  Del. 
Peace, and be patient,  
for though he be now a man most miserable,  
of no rank, nor no badge of honour on him,  
bred low and poor, no eye of favour shining:  
And though my sure Prediction of his Rising  
(which can no more fail, than the day or night does,  
nay, let him be asleep, will overtake him)  
have found some rubs and stops, yet hear me Niece,  
and hear me with a faith, it shall come to him.  
I'll tell thee the occasion.  Dru. 
Do good Aunt:  
for yet I am ignorant.  Del. 
Chiding him one day  
for being too near, and sparing for a Soldier,  
too griping, and too greedy: he made answer,  
When I am Caesar, than I will be liberal.  
I presently inspired with holy fire,  
and my Prophetic spirit burning in me,  
gave answer from the gods; and this it was,  
Imperator reis Romae, cum Aprum grandem interfeceris:  
Thou shalt be Emperor, O Diocles,  
when thou hast killed a mighty Boar. From that time  
(as giving credit to my words) he has employed  
much of his life in hunting. Many Boars  
hideous and fierce, with his own hands he has killed too,  
but yet not lighted on the fatal one,  
should raise him to the Empire: Be not sad Niece,  
ere long he shall: Come, let's go entertain him;  
for by this time, I guess, he comes from hunting:  
And by my art, I find this very instant  
some great design 's afoot.  Dru. 
The gods give good, Aunt. Exeunt.   

Scaena Tertia.  Enter Diocles, Maximinian, Geta, with a Boar. Dio. 
Lay down the Boar.  Get. 
With all my heart; I am weary on't:  
I shall turn Jew, if I carry many such burdens.  
Do you think (Master) to be Emperor  
with killing Swine? ye may be an honest Butcher,  
or allied to a seemly Family of Souse-wives.  
Can you be such an ass, my reverend Master,  
to think these Springs of Pork will shoot up Caesars?  Max. 
The fool says true.  Dio. 
Come leave your fooling, Sirrah,  
and think of what thou shalt be when I am Emperor.  Get. 
Would it would come with thinking: for then o' my conscience  
I should be at least a Senator.  Max. 
A souter:  
for that's a place more fitted to thy nature,  
if there could be such an expectation.  
Or say the Devil could perform this wonder,  
Can such a Rascal as thou art hope for honour?  
such a log-carrying lout?  Get. 
Yes, and bear it too,  
and bear it swimmingly. I am not the first Ass, Sir,  
has born good Office, & performed it reverendly.  Dio. 
Thou being the son of a Tanner, canst thou hope to be a Senator?  Get. 
Thou being son of a Tanner, canst thou hope to be an Emperor?  Dio. 
Thou sayst true Geta, there's a stop indeed;  
but yet the bold and virtuous—  Get. 
Ye are right, Master,  
right as a gun: For we the virtuous,  
though we be kennel-rakers, scabs, and scoundrels,  
we the discreet and bold: and yet, now I remember it,  
We Tilers may deserve to be Senators;  
and there we step before you thick-skinned Tanners,  
for we are born three Stories high; no base ones,  
none of your groundlings, Master.  Dio. 
I like thee well,  
thou hast a good mind, as I have, to this Honour.  Get. 
As good a mind Sir, of a simple plasterer—  
and when I come to execute my Office,  
than you shall see.  Max. 
What?  Get. 
An Officer in fury;  
an Officer as he ought to be: Do you laugh at it?  
Is a Senator (in hope) worth no more reverence?  
By these hands I'll clap you by th' heels the first hour of it.  Max. 
O' my conscience, the fellow believes.  Dio. 
I do, do Geta,  
for if I once be Emperor—  Get. 
Then will I  
(for wise men must be had to prop the Republic)  
not bate ye a single ace of a sound Senator.  Dio. 
But what shall we do the whilst?  Get. 
Kill Swine, and souse 'em,  
and eat 'em when we have bread.  Max. 
Why didst thou run away  
when the Boar made toward thee? art thou not valiant?  Get. 
No indeed am I not; and 'tis for mine honour too:  
I took a tree, 'tis true; gave way to the Monster;  
hark what discretion says, Let fury pass;  
from the tooth of a mad beast, and the tongue of a slanderer  
preserve thine honour.  Dio. 
He talks like a full Senator.  
Go, take it up, and carry it in: 'tis a huge one;  
we never killed so large a swine; so fierce too  
I never met with yet.  Max. 
Take heed, it stirs again;  
how nimbly the rogue runs up: he climbs like a Squirrel.  Dio. 
Come down ye dunce, is it not dead?  Get. 
I know not.  Dio. 
His throat is cut, and his bowels out.  Get. 
That's all one,  
I am sure his teeth are in: and for any thing I know,  
he may have pigs of his own nature in's belly.  Dio. 
Come take him up I say, and see him dressed,  
he is fat, and will be lusty meat; away with him,  
and get some of him ready for our dinner.  Get. 
Shall he be roasted whole,  
and served up in a Souse-tub? a portly service,  
I'll run i'th' wheel myself.  Max. 
Sirrah, leave your prating,  
and get some piece of him ready presently,  
we are weary both, and hungry.  Get. 
I'll about it.  
What an inundation of brewis shall I swim in? Exit.  Dio. 
Thou art ever dull and melancholy, x,  
distrustful of my hopes.  Max. 
Why, can ye blame me?  
Do men give credit to a Juggler?  Dio. 
Thou know'st she is a Prophetess.  Max. 
A small one,  
and as small profit to be hoped for by her.  Dio. 
Thou art the strangest man; how does thy hurt?  
the Boar came near you Sir.  Max. 
A scratch, a scratch.  Dio. 
It aches & troubles thee, and that makes thee angry.  Max. 
Not at the pain, but at the practice, Uncle,  
the butcherly base custom of our lives now:  
Had a brave enemy's sword drawn so much from me,  
or danger met me in the head o'th' Army,  
to have blushed thus in my blood, had been mine honour.  
But to live base, like Swineherds, and believe too,  
to be fooled out with tales, and old wives dreams,  
dreams, when they are drunk.  Dio. 
Certain, you much mistake her.  Max. 
Mistake her? hang her: to be made her Purveyors,  
to feed her old chaps: to provide her daily,  
and bring in Feasts, whilst she sits farting at us,  
and blowing out her Prophecies at both ends.  Dio. 
Prithee be wise: Dost thou think, Maximinian,  
so great a reverence, and so stayed a knowledge—  Max. 
Surreverence, you would say: what truth?  
what knowledge?  
what any thing but eating is good in her?  
'Twould make a fool prophesy to be fed continually:  
What do you get? your labour and your danger.  
Whilst she sits bathing in her larded fury,  
inspired with full deep cups, who cannot prophesy?  
A Tinker, out of Ale, will give Predictions:  
but who believes?  Dio. 
she is a holy Druid,  
A woman noted for that faith, that piety,  
Beloved of heaven.  Max. 
Heaven knows, I do not believe it.  
Indeed, I must confess, they are excellent Jugglers;  
their age upon some fools too flings a confidence.  
But what grounds have they: what elements to work on?  
show me but that: the sieve and shears? a learned one.  
I have no patience to dispute this Question,  
'tis so ridiculous: I think the devil does help 'em:  
or rather, (mark me well) abuse 'em (Uncle):  
for they are as fit to deal with him: these old women,  
they are as jump and squared out to his nature—  Dio. 
Thou hast a perfect malice.  Max. 
So I would have  
against these purblind Prophets: for look ye Sir,  
old women will lie monstrously; so will the devil,  
or else he has had much wrong: upon my knowledge,  
old women are malicious; so is he:  
they are proud, and covetous, revengeful, lecherous;  
all which are excellent attributes of the Devil.  
They would at last seem holy; so would he:  
and to vail over these villainies, they would prophesy;  
he gives them leave now and then to use their cunnings,  
which is to kill a cow, or blast a harvest,  
make young pigs pipe themselves to death, choke poultry,  
and chafe a dairy-wench into a fever  
with pumping for her butter.  
But when he makes these Agents to raise Emperors,  
when he disposes Fortune as his Servant,  
and ties her to old wives tails—  Dio. 
Go thy ways,  
thou art a learned Scholar, against credit.  
You hear the Prophecy?  Max. 
Yes, and I laugh at it:  
and so will any man can tell but twenty,  
that is not blind, as you are blind and ignorant.  
Do you think she knows your fortune?  Dio. 
I do think it.  Max. 
I know she has the name of a rare Soothsayer:  
but do you in your conscience believe her holy?  
inspired with such prophetic fire?  Dio. 
Yes in my conscience.  Max. 
And that you must upon necessity  
from her words be a Caesar?  Dio. 
If I live,  Max. 
There's 〈◊〉 stop yet.  Dio. 
and follow her directions.  Max. 
But do not juggle with me.  Dio. 
In faith (x,)—  
so full a truth hangs ever on her Prophecies,  
that how I should think otherwise.  Max. 
Very well Sir:  
You then believe (for methinks, 'tis most necessary)  
she knows her own Fate?  Dio. 
I believe it certain.  Max. 
Dare you but be so wise to let me try it,  
for I stand doubtful.  Dio. 
How?  Max. 
Come nearer to me;  
because her cunning devil shall not prevent me:  
Close, close, and hear; If she can turn this destiny,  
I'll be of your faith too.  Dio. 
Forward, I fear not.  
for if she knows not this, sure she knows nothing.  Enter Delphia. 
I am so confident—  Max. 
'Faith so am I too,  
that I shall make her devil's sides hum.  Dio. 
she comes here:  
go take your stand.  Max. 
Now holly, or you howl for't. Exit.  Dio. 
'Tis pity this young man should be so stubborn.  
Valiant he is, and to his valour temperate,  
only distrustful of delays in Fortune;  
I love him dearly well.  Del. 
Now my Son Diocles,  
are ye not weary of your game today?  
and are ye well?  Dio. 
Yes Mother, well and lusty:  
only ye make me hunt for empty shadows.  Del. 
You must have patience, Rome was not built in one day:  
and he that hopes, must give his hopes their currents.  
You have killed a mighty Boar.  Dio. 
But I am no Emperor.  
Why do you fool me thus, and make me follow  
your flattering expectation hour by hour?  
Rise early, and sleep late? to feed your appetites,  
forget my trade, my Arms? forsake mine honour,  
labour and sweat to arrive at a base memory?  
oppose myself to hazards of all sorts,  
only to win the barbarous name of Butcher?  Del. 
Son, you are wise.  Dio. 
But you are cunning, Mother:  
and with that Cannon, and the faith I give ye,  
ye lead me blindly to no end, no honour.  
You find ye are daily fed, you take no labour,  
your family at ease, they know no Market,  
and therefore to maintain this, you speak darkly,  
as darkly still ye nourish it, whilst I  
being a credulous and obsequious coxcomb,  
hunt daily, and sweat hourly, to find out  
to clear your Mystery: kill Boar on Boar,  
and make your spits and pots bow with my Bounties:  
yet I still poorer, further still—  Del. 
Be provident,  
and tempt not the gods dooms: stop not the glory  
they are ready to fix on ye. Ye are a fool then;  
cheerful and grateful takers the gods love,  
and such as wait their pleasures with full hopes:  
the doubtful and distrustful man Heaven frowns at.  
What I have told you by my inspiration,  
I tell ye once again, must and shall find ye.  Dio. 
But when? or how?  Del. 
Cum Aprum interfeceris.  Dio. 
I have kil'd-many.  Del. 
Not the Boar they point ye:  
nor must I reveal further, till you clear it.  
The lots of glorious men are wrapped in mysteries,  
and so delivered: Common and slight creatures,  
that have their Ends as open as their Actions,  
easy and open fortunes follow.  Max. 
I shall try  
how deep your inspiration lies hid in ye,  
and whether your brave spirit have a buckler  
to keep this arrow off, I'll make you smoke else.  Dio. 
Knowing my fortune so precisely, punctually,  
and that it must fall without contradiction,  
being a stranger of no tie unto ye,  
methinks you should be studied in your own,  
in your own destiny, methinks, most perfect,  
and every hour, and every minute, Mother,  
so great a care should heaven have of her Ministers;  
methinks your fortunes both ways should appear to ye,  
both to avoid, and take. Can the Stars now,  
and all those influences you receive into ye,  
or secret inspirations ye make show of,  
if an hard fortune hung, and were now ready  
to power itself upon your life, deliver ye?  
Can they now say, Take heed?  Del. 
Ha? pray ye come hither.  Max. 
I would know that: I fear your devil will cozen ye,  
and stand as close as ye can, I shall be with ye.  Del. 
I find a present ill.  Dio. 
How?  Del. 
But I scorn it.  Max. 
Do ye so? do ye so?  Del. 
Yes, and laugh at it, Diocles.  
Is it not strange, these wild and foolish men  
should dare to oppose the power of Destiny?  
that power the gods shake at? Look yonder, Son,  Max. 
Have ye spied me? then have at ye.  Del. 
Do, shoot boldly.  
hit me and spare not, if thou canst.  Dio. 
Shoot x.  Max. 
I cannot; mine arm's dead, I have no feeling:  
or if I could shoot, so strong is her armed virtue,  
she would catch the arrow flying.  Del. 
Poor doubtful people,  
I pity your weak faiths.  Dio. 
Your mercy (Mother,)  
and from this hour a deity, I crown ye.  Del. 
No more of that.  Max. 
O let my prayers prevail too,  
here like a tree, I dwell else: free me Mother,  
and greater than great Fortune, I'll adore thee.  Del. 
Be free again, and have more pure thoughts in ye.  Dio. 
Now I believe your words most constantly,  
and when I have that power ye have promised to me.  Del. 
Remember then your vow: my Niece Drusilla,  
I mean, to marry her, and than ye prosper,  Dio. 
I shall forget my life else.  Del 
I am a poor weak woman: to me no worship.  Enter Niger, Geta, and Soldiers. Get. 
And shall he have as you say, that kills this Aper?  Del. 
Now mark and understand.  Nig. 
The Proscription's up,  
i'th' Marketplace 'tis up, there ye may read it,  
he shall have half the Empire.  Get. 
A pretty Farm i' faith.  Nig. 
And the Emperor's Sister, bright Aurelia,  
her to his wife.  Get. 
Ye say well Friend; but hark ye,  
Who shall do this?  Nig. 
You, if ye dare.  Get. 
I think so:  
Yet I could poison him in a pot of Perry,  
he loves that vengeancely: But when I have done this,  
may I lie with the Gentlewoman?  Nig. 
Lie with her? what else man?  Get. 
Yes Man,  
I have known a man married, that never lay with his wife.  
those dancing days are done.  Nig. 
These are old Soldiers,  
and poor, it seems. I'll try their appetites.  
'Save ye brave Soldiers.  Max. 
Sir, ye talked of proscriptions?  Nig. 
'Tis true, there is one set up from the Emperor  
against Volutius Aper.  Dio. 
Aper?  Del. 
Now;  
Now have ye found the Boar?  Dio. 
I have the meaning;  
and blessed Mother.—  Nig. 
He has scorned his Master,  
and bloodily cut off by treachery  
the noble Brother to him.  Dio. 
He lives here Sir,  
sickly and weak.  Nig. 
Did you see him?  Max. 
No.  Nig. 
He is murdered;  
so ye shall find it mentioned from the Emperor;  
and honest faithful soldiers, but believe it;  
for, by the gods, you will find it so, he is murdered;  
the manner how, read in the large Proscription.  Del. 
It is most true Son; and he cozens ye,  
Aper's a villain false.  Dio. 
I thank ye Mother,  
and dare believe ye: Hark ye Sir, the recompense?  
as ye related.  Nig. 
Is as firm as faith Sir:  
bring him alive or dead.  Max. 
You took a fit time,  
the General being out o'th' Town: for though we love him not,  
yet had he known this first, you had paid for't dearly.  Dio. 
'Tis Niger, now I know him: honest Niger,  
a true sound man, and I believe him constantly:  
your business may be done, make no great hurry  
for your own safety.  Nig. 
No, I am gone: I thank ye. Exit.  Dio. 
Pray, Maximinian, pray.  Max. 
I'll pray and work too.  Dio. 
I'll to the Market place, and read the offer,  
and now I have found the Boar.  Del. 
Find your own faith too,  
and remember what ye have vowed.  Dio. 
O Mother.  Del. 
Prosper.  Get. 
If my Master, and I do do this, there's two Emperors,  
and what a show will that make? how we shall bounce it? Exeunt.    

Actus Secundus  

Scaena Prima.  Enter Drusilla and Delphia. Dru. 
Leave us, and not vouchsafe a parting kiss  
to her that in his hopes of greatness lives,  
and goes along with him in all his dangers?  Del. 
I grant 't was most inhuman.  Dru. 
O you give it  
too mild a name: 't was more than barbarous,  
and you a partner in't.  Del. 
I Drusilla?  Dru. 
Yes:  
you have blown his swollen pride to that vastness,  
as he believes the earth is in his fathom,  
this makes him quite forget his humble Being:  
And can I hope that he, that only fed  
with the imagined food of future Empire,  
disdains even those that gave him Means, and life,  
to nourish such desires, when he's possessed  
of his ambitious Ends (which must fall on him,  
or your Predictions are false) will ever  
descend to look on me?  Del. 
Were his Intents  
perfidious as the Seas or Winds, his heart  
composed of falsehood; yet the benefit,  
the greatness of the good he has from you,  
(for what I have conferred, is thine, Drusilla)  
must make him firm, and thankful: But if all  
remembrance of the debts he stands engaged for,  
find a quick grave in his Ingratitude,  
my powerful Art, that guides him to this height,  
shall make him curse the hour he ere was raised,  
or sink him to the centre.  Dru. 
I had rather  
your Art could force him to return that ardour  
to me, I bear to him; or give me power  
to moderate my passions: Yet I know not,  
I should repent your grant, though you had signed it,  
(so well I find he's worthy of all service.)  
But to believe that any check to him  
in his main hopes, could yield content to me,  
were treason to true love, that knows no pleasure,  
the object that is dotes on ill affected.  Del. 
Pretty simplicity; I love thee for't,  
and will not sit an idle looker on,  
and see it cozened: dry thy innocent eyes,  
and cast off jealous fears, (yet promises  
are but lip-comforts) and but fancy aught  
that's possible in Nature, or in Art,  
that may advance thy comfort, and be bold  
to tell thy soul 'tis thine: therefore speak freely.  Dru. 
You new create me. To conceal from you  
my virgin fondness, were to hide my sickness  
from my physician. O dear Aunt, I languish  
for want of Diocles' sight: he is the Sun  
that keeps my blood in a perpetual spring:  
but in his absence, cold benumbing Winter  
seizes on all my faculties. Would you bind me  
(that am your slave already) in more fetters,  
and (in the place of service) to adore you?  
O bear me then (but 'tis impossible,  
I fear, to be effected) where I may  
see how my Diocles breaks thorough his dangers,  
and in what heaps his honours flow upon him,  
that I may meet him, in the height and pride  
of all his glories; and there (as your gift)  
challenge him, as mine own.  Del. 
Enjoy thy wishes:  
this is an easy Boon, which, at thy years,  
I could have given to any; but now grown  
perfect in all the hidden mysteries  
of that inimitable Art, which makes us  
equal even to the gods, and Nature's wonders,  
it shall be done, as fits my skill and glory:  
To break thorough bolts, and locks, a scholar's prize  
for Thieves, and Picklocks: To pass thorough an Army  
covered with Night, or some disguise, the practice  
of poor and needy Spies: No, my Drusilla,  
from Ceres I will force her winged Dragons,  
and in the air hung over the Tribunal;  
(the Music of the Spheres attending on us.)  
There, as his good Star, thou shalt shine upon him,  
if he prove true, and as his Angel guard him.  
But if he dare be false, ay, in a moment  
will put that glorious light out, with such horror,  
as if the eternal Night had seized the Sun,  
or all things were returned to the first Chaos,  
and then appear like Furies.  Dru. 
I will do  
whate'er you shall command:  Del. 
Rest then assured,  
I am the Mistress of my Art, and fear not. Exeunt.  Soft Music.  

Scaena secunda.  Enter Aper, Camurius, Guard, a Litter covered. Aper. 
Your care of your sick Emperor, fellow-soldiers,  
in colours to the life, doth show your love,  
and zealous duty: O continue in it.  
And though I know you long to see and hear him,  
impute it not to pride, or melancholy,  
that keeps you from your wishes: such State-vices  
(too too familiar with great Princes) are  
strangers to all the actions of the life  
of good Numerianus: Let your patience  
be the Physician to his wounded eyes,  
(wounded with pious sorrow for his father)  
which Time and your strong Patience will recover,  
provided it prove constant.  1 Guard. 
If he counterfeit,  
I will hereafter trust a prodigal heir,  
when he weeps at his father's Funeral.  2 Guard. 
Or a young widow, following a bedrid husband,  
(after a three years groaning) to the Fire.  3 Guard. 
Note his humility, and with what soft murmurs  
he does inquire his pleasures.  1 Guard. 
And how soon  
he is instructed.  2 Guard. 
How he bows again too.  Aper. 
All your Commands (dread Caesar) I'll impart  
to your most ready Soldier, to obey them;  
so take your rest in peace. It is the pleasure  
of mighty Caesar (his thanks still remembered  
for your long patience, which a donative,  
fitting his State to give, shall quickly follow)  
that you continue a strict Guard upon  
his sacred person, and admit no stranger  
of any other Legion, to come near him;  
you being most trusted by him. I receive  
your answer in your silence. Now Camurius,  
speak without flattery; Hath thy Aper acted  
this passion to the life?  Cam. 
I would applaud him,  
were he saluted Caesar: but I fear  
these long protracted counsels will undo us;  
and 'tis beyond my reason, he being dead,  
you should conceal yourself, or hope it can  
continue undiscovered.  Aper. 
That I have killed him,  
yet feed these ignorant fools with hopes he lives,  
has a main end in't. The Pannonian Cohorts  
(that are my own, and sure) are not come up,  
the German Legions waver, and Charinus  
(brother to this dead dog) hell's plagues on Niger,  
is jealous of the murder; and, I hear,  
is marching up against me. 'Tis not safe,  
till I have power, to justify the Act,  
to show myself the Author: be therefore careful  
for an hour or two (till I have fully sounded  
how the Tribunes and Centurions stand affected)  
that none come near the Litter. If I find them  
firm on my part, I dare profess myself,  
and then live Aper's equal.  Cam. 
Does not the body  
begin to putrify?  Aper. 
That exacts my haste:  
when, but even now, I feigned obedience to it,  
as I had some great business to impart,  
the scent had almost choked me: be therefore curious:  
all keep at distance. Exit.  Cam. 
I am taught my parts;  
haste you, to perfect yours.  1 Guard. 
I had rather meet  
an enemy in the field, then stand thus nodding  
like to a rug-gowned Watchman.  Enter Diocles, Maximinian, Geta. Geta. 
The Watch at noon?  
this is a new device.  Cam. 
Stand.  Dio. 
I am armed  
against all danger.  Max. 
If I fear to follow,  
a coward's name pursue me.  Dio. 
Now my Fate  
guide and direct me.  Cam. 
You are rude and saucy,  
with your forbidden feet to touch this ground,  
sacred to Caesar only, and to these  
that do attend his person. Speak, what are you?  Dio. 
What thou, nor any of thy faction are,  
nor ever were: Soldiers, and honest men.  Cam. 
So blunt?  Geta. 
Nay, you shall find he's good at the sharp too.  Dio. 
No instruments of craft: engines of murder,  
that serve the Emperor only with oiled tongues,  
sooth and applaud his vices, play the Bawds  
to all his appetites; and when you have wrought  
so far upon his weakness, that he's grown  
odious to the subject and himself,  
and can no further help your wicked ends,  
you rid him out of the way.  Cam. 
Treason?  Dio. 
'Tis truth,  
and I will make it good.  Cam. 
Lay hands upon 'em,  
or kill them suddenly.  Geta. 
I am out at that;  
I do not like the sport.  Dio. 
What's he that is  
owner of any virtue worth a Roman,  
or does retain the memory of the Oath  
he made to Caesar, that dares lift his sword  
against the man that (careless of his life)  
comes to discover such a horrid Treason,  
as when you hear't, and understand how long  
you've been abused, will run you mad with fury?  
I am no stranger, but (like you) a Soldier,  
trained up one from my youth: and there are some  
with whom I have served, and (not to praise myself)  
must needs confess they have seen Diocles  
in the late Britain Wars, both dare and do  
beyond a common man.  1 Guard. 
Diocles?  2 Guard. 
I know him,  
the bravest Soldier of the Empire.  Cam. 
Stand:  
if thou advance an inch, thou art dead.  Dio. 
Die thou,  
that durst oppose thyself against a Truth  
that will break out, though mountains cover it.  Get. 
I fear this is a sucking pig; no Boar,  
he falls so easy.  Dio. 
Hear me, fellow Soldiers;  
and if I make it not apparent to you  
this is an act of Justice, and no Murder,  
cut me in pieces: I'll disperse the cloud  
that hath so long obscured a bloody act  
ne'er equalled yet: you all knew with what favours  
the good Numerianus ever graced  
the Provost Aper?  Guard. 
True.  Dio. 
And that those bounties  
should have contained him (if he ere had learned  
the elements of Honesty and Truth)  
in loyal duty: But ambition never  
looks backward on desert, but with blind haste  
boldly runs on. But I lose time. You are here  
commanded by this Aper to attend  
the emperor's person; to admit no stranger  
to have access to him, or come near his Litter,  
under pretence (forsooth) his eyes are sore,  
and his mind troubled: no, my friends, you are cozened;  
the good Numerianus now is past  
the sense of wrong or injury.  Guard. 
How? dead?  Dio. 
Let your own eyes inform you.  Get. 
An emperor's Cabinet?  
Fough, I have known a Charnel-house smell sweeter.  
If emperor's flesh have this savour, what will mine do,  
when I am rotten?  1 Guard. 
Most unheard-of villainy:  2 Guard. 
And with all cruelty to be revenged.  3 Guard. 
Who is the murderer? name him, that we may  
punish it in his family.  Dio. 
Who but Aper?  
the barbarous and most ingrateful Aper?  
His desperate Poniard printed on his breast  
this deadly wound: hate to vowed enemies  
finds a full satisfaction in death;  
and Tyrants seek no farther. He (a Subject,  
and bound by all the Ties of love and duty)  
ended not so; but does deny his Prince  
(whose ghost forbade passage to his rest,  
mourns by the Stygian shore) his Funeral-Rites.  
Nay, weep not; let your loves speak in your anger;  
and, to confirm you gave no suffrage to  
the damned Plot, lend me your helping hands  
to wreak the Parricide: and if you find  
that there is worth in Diocles to deserve it,  
make him your leader.  Guard. 
A Diocles, a Diocles.  Dio. 
We'll force him from his Guards. And now, my Stars,  
if you have any good for me in store,  
show it, when I have slain this fatal Boar.  Exeunt.  

Scaena Tertia.  Enter Delphia and Drusilla in a Throne drawn by Dragons. Del. 
Fix here, and rest a while your Sail-stretched wings  
that have outstripped the winds: the eye of heaven  
durst not behold your speed, but hid itself  
behind the grossest clouds; and the pale Moon  
plucked in her silver horns, trembling for fear  
that my strong Spells should force her from her Sphere;  
such is the power of Art.  Dru. 
Good Aunt, where are we?  Del. 
Look down, Drusilla, on these lofty Towers,  
these spacious streets, where every private house  
appears a Palace to receive a King:  
the site, the wealth, the beauty of the place,  
will soon inform thee 't is imperious Rome,  
Rome, the great Mistress of the conquered world.  Dru. 
But without Diocles, it is to me  
like any wilderness we have passed o'er:  
shall I not see him?  Del. 
Yes, and in full glory,  
and glut thy greedy eyes with looking on  
his prosperous success: Contain thyself;  
for though all things beneath us are transparent,  
the sharpest sighted, were he Eagle-eyed,  
cannot discover us: nor will we hang  
idle Spectators to behold his triumph:  Enter Diocles, Maximinian, Guard, Aper, Senators, Geta, Officers, (with Litter. 
but when occasion shall present itself,  
do something to add to it. See, he comes.  Dru. 
How godlike he appears? with such a grace  
the Giants that attempted to scale heaven,  
when they lay dead on the phlegraean plain,  
Mars did appear to Jove.  Del. 
Forbear.  Dio. 
Look on this,  
and when with horror thou hast viewed thy deed,  
(thy most accursed deed) be thine own judge,  
and see (thy guilt considered) if thou canst  
persuade thyself (whom thou stand'st bound to hate)  
to hope or plead for mercy.  Aper. 
I confess  
my life 's a burden to me.  Dio. 
Thou art like thy name,  
a cruel Boar, whose snout hath rooted up  
the fruitful Vineyard of the Commonwealth:  
I long have hunted for thee, and since now  
thou art in the Toil, it is in vain to hope  
thou ever shalt break out: thou dost deserve  
the hangman's hook, or to be punished  
more majorum, whipped with rods to death,  
or any way, that were more terrible.  
Yet, since my future fate depends upon thee,  
thus, to fulfil great Delphia's Prophecy,  
Aper (thou fatal Boar) receive the honour  
to fall by Diocles' hand. Shine clear, my Stars,  
that ushered me to taste this common air,  
in my entrance to the world, and give applause  
to this great work. Music.  Del. 
Strike Music from the Spheres.  Dru. 
O now you honour me.  Dio. 
Ha? in the Air?  All. 
Miraculous.  Max. 
This shows the gods approve  
the Person, and the Act: then if the Senate  
(for in their eyes I read the soldier's love)  
think Diocles worthy to supply the place  
of dead Numerianus, as he stands  
his heir, in his revenge, with one consent  
salute him Emperor.  Senat. 
Long live Diocles:  
Augustus, Pater Patriae, and all Titles  
that are peculiar only to the Caesars,  
we gladly throw upon him.  Guard. 
We confirm it,  
and will defend his honour with our Swords  
against the world: raise him to the Tribunal.  1 Sen. 
Fetch the Imperial Robes: and as a sign  
we give him absolute power of life and death,  
bind this sword to his side.  2 Sen. 
Omit no Ceremony  
that may be for his honour.  Song. Max. 
Still the gods  
express that they are pleased with this election.  Geta. 
My Master is an Emperor, and I feel  
a senator's Itch upon me: would I could hire  
these fine invisible Fiddlers to play to me  
at my instalment.  Dio. 
I embrace your loves,  
and hope the honours that you heap upon me,  
shall be with strength supported. It shall be  
my study to appear another Atlas,  
to stand firm underneath this heaven of Empire,  
and bear it boldly. I desire no Titles,  
but as I shall deserve 'em. I will keep  
the name I had, being a private man,  
only with some small difference; I will add  
to Diocles but two short syllables,  
and be called Dioclesianus.  Geta. 
That is fine:  
I'll follow the fashion; and when I am a Senator,  
I will be no more plain Geta, but be called  
Lord Getianus.  Dru. 
He ne'er thinks of me,  
nor of your favour. Enter Niger.  Del. 
If he dares prove false,  
these glories shall be to him as a dream,  
or an enchanted banquet.  Nigre. 
From Charinus,  
from great Charinus, who with joy hath heard  
of your proceedings, and confirms your honours:  
he, with his beauteous sister, fair Aurelia,  
are come in person, like themselves attended  
to gratulate your fortune. Loud Music.  Enter Charinus, Aurelia, Attendants. Dio. 
For thy news,  
Be thou in France Proconsul: let us meet  
the Emperor with all honour, and embrace him.  Dru. 
O Aunt, I fear this Princess doth eclipse  
th' opinion of my beauty, though I were  
myself to be the judge.  Del. 
Rely on me.  Char. 
'Tis virtue and not birth that makes us noble:  
Great actions speak great minds, and such should govern;  
and you are graced with both. Thus, as a Brother,  
a Fellow, and Copartner in the Empire,  
I do embrace you: may we live so far  
from difference, or emulous Competition,  
that all the world may say. Although two Bodies  
we have one Mind,  Aur. 
When I look on the Trunk  
of dear Numerianus, I should wash  
his wounds with tears, and pay a sister's sorrow  
to his sad fate: but since he lives again  
in your most brave Revenge, I bow to you,  
as to a power that gave him second life,  
and will make good my promise. If you find  
that there is worth in me that may deserve you,  
and that in being your wife, I shall not bring  
disquiet and dishonour to your Bed,  
Although my youth and fortune should require  
both to be sued and sought to, here I yield  
myself at your devotion,  Dio. 
O you gods,  
teach me how to be thankful: you have poured  
all blessings on me, that ambitious man  
could ever fancy: till this happy minute,  
I ne'er saw beauty, or believed there could be  
perfection in a woman. I shall live  
to serve and honour you: upon my knees  
I thus receive you; and, so you vouchsafe it,  
this day I am doubly married; to the Empire,  
and your best-self.  Del. 
False and perfidious villain.—  Dru. 
Let me fall headlong on him: O my Stars!  
this I foresaw and feared.  Cha. 
Call forth a Flamen.  
This knot shall now be tied.  Del. 
But I will lose it,  
if Art or Hell have any strength.  Enter a Flamen. Thunder and Lightning. Cha. 
Prodigious  Max. 
How soon the day 's o'ercast?  Fla. 
The Signs are fatal:  
Juno smiles not upon this Match, and shows too  
she has her thunder.  Dio. 
Can there be a stop  
in my full fortune?  Cha. 
We are too violent,  
and I repent the haste: we first should pay  
our latest duty to the dead, and then  
proceed discreetly. Let's take up the body,  
and when we have placed his ashes in his Urn,  
we'll try the gods again: for wise men say,  
Marriage and Obsequies do not suit one day.  Senate exit. Del. 
So, 't is deferred yet, in despite of falsehood:  
Comfort Drusilla, for he shall be thine,  
or wish, in vain, he were not. I will punish Ascend.  
his perjury to the height. Mount up, my birds;  
some Rites I am to perform to Hecate,  
to perfect my designs; which once performed,  
he shall be made obedient to thy Call,  
or in his ruin I will bury all. Ascends throne.    

Actus Tertius.  

Scaena Prima.  Enter Maximinian (solus.) Max. 
What powerful Star shined at this man's Nativity?  
and blessed his homely Cradle with full glory?  
what throngs of people press and buzz about him,  
and with their humming flatteries sing him Caesar?  
sing him aloud, and grow hoarse with saluting him?  
How the fierce-minded Soldier steals in to him,  
adores and courts his Honour? at his devotion  
their lives, their virtues and their fortunes laying?  
Charinus sues, the Emperor entreats him,  
and as a brighter flame, takes his beams from him.  
The blessed and bright Aurelia, she dotes on him,  
and as the god of Love, burns incense to him.  
All eyes live on him. Yet I am still Maximinian,  
still the same poor and wretched thing, his servant.  
What have I got by this? where lies my glory?  
how am I raised and honoured? I have gone as far  
to woo this purblind Honour, and have passed  
as many dangerous Expeditions,  
as noble, and as high; nay, in his destiny  
(whilst 't was unknown) have run as many hazards,  
and done as much; sweat thorough as many perils;  
only the Hangman of Volutius Aper  
(which I mistook) has made him Emperor,  
and me his slave.  Enter Delphia and Drusilla. Del. 
Stand still; he cannot see us,  
till I please: mark him well, this discontentment  
I have forced into him, for thy cause, Drusilla.  Max. 
Can the gods see this;  
see it with justice, and confer their blessings  
on him, that never flung one grain of incense  
upon their Altars? never bowed his knee yet;  
and I that have marched foot by foot, struck equally,  
and whilst he was a gleaning, have been praying,  
contemning his base covetous—  Del. 
Now we'll be open.  Max. 
Bless me, and with all reverence.  Del. 
Stand up, Son,  
and wonder not at thy ungrateful Uncle:  
I know thy thoughts, and I appear to ease 'em.  Max. 
O mother, did I stand the tenth part to ye  
engaged and fettered, as mine Uncle does,  
how would I serve, how would I fall before ye?  
the poorer powers me worship.  Del. 
Peace, and flatter not;  
necessity and anger draws this from ye;  
of both which I will quit ye: For your Uncle  
I spoke this Honour, and it fell upon him;  
fell, to his full content: he has forgot me,  
for all my care; forgot me, and his vow too:  
as if a dream had vanished, so h' as lost me,  
and I him: let him now stand fast. Come hither;  
my care is now on you.  Max. 
O blessed Mother!  Del. 
Stand still, and let me work. So now, Maximinian,  
go, and appear in Court, and eye Aurelia:  
believe, what I have done, concerns ye highly.  
Stand in her view, make your addresses to her:  
she is the Satire of Honour. I'll say no more,  
but Fortune is your servant: go.  Max. 
With reverence;—  
all this as holy truths. Exit.  Del. 
Believe, and prosper.  Dru. 
Yet all this cures not me; but as much credit,  
as much belief from Dioclesian.  Enter Geta, Lictors, and Suitors, (with Petitions.) Del. 
Be not dejected; I have warned ye often:  
the proudest thoughts he has, I'll humble. Who's this?  
O 't is the fool and knave grown a grave Officer:  
here's hot and high preferment.  Get. 
What's your Bill?  
for Gravel for the Appian way, and Pills?  
is the way rheumatic?  1 Suitor. 
'T is Piles, and 't please you.  Get. 
Remove me those Piles to Port Esquiline,  
fitter the place, my friend: you shall be paid.  1 Suit. 
I thank your Worship.  Get. 
Thank me when ye have it;  
thank me another way, ye are an Ass else.  
I know my Office: you are for the Streets, Sir.  
Lord, how ye throng▪ that knave has eaten Garlic;  
whip him, and bring him back.  3 Suitor. 
I beseech you Worship;  
here's an old reckoning for the dung and dirt, Sir.  Get. 
It stinks like thee: Away. Yet let him tarry,  
his Bill shall quit his Breath. Give your Petitions  
in seemly sort, and keep your hats off, decently.  
For scouring the watercourses thorough the Cities?  
a fine periphrasis of a kennel-raker.  
Did ye scour all, my friend? ye had some business:  
who shall scour you? you are to be paid, I take it,  
when Surgeons swear you have performed your Office.  4 Suit. 
Your Worship 's merry.  Get. 
We must be sometimes witty,  
to nick a knave; 't is as useful as our gravity.  
I'll take no more Petitions; I am pestered;  
give me some rest.  4 Suit. 
I have brought the gold (and 't please ye)  
about the Place ye promised.  Get. 
See him entered.  
How does your daughter?  4 Suit. 
Better your Worship thinks of her.  Get. 
This is with the least. But let me see your daughter.  
'T is a good forward maid; I'll join her with ye.  
I do beseech ye, leave me.  Lictor. 
Ye see the Aedile 's busy.  Get. 
And look to your Places, or I'll make ye smoke else.  
Sirrah, I drank a cup of wine at your house yesterday;  
a good smart wine.  Lict. 
Send him the piece, he likes it.  Get. 
And ate the best wild Boar at that same Farmers.  2 Su. 
I have half left yet: your Worship shall command it  Get. 
A bit will serve: give me some rest: gods help me.  
How shall I labour when I am a Senator?  Del. 
'T is a fit place indeed. 'Save your Mastership;  
do you know us, Sir?  Get. 
These women are still troublesome.  
There be houses providing for such wretched women,  
and some small Rents, to set ye a spinning.  Dru. 
Sir,  
we are no Spinsters; nor, if you look upon us,  
so wretched as you take us.  Del. 
Does your Mightiness  
that is a great destroyer of your Memory,  
yet understand our faces?  Get. 
Prithee keep off, woman;  
it is not fit I should know every creature.  
Although I have been familiar with thee heretofore,  
I must not know thee now: my place neglects thee.  
Yet, because I deign a glimpse of your remembrances,  
give me your Suits, and wait me a month hence.  Del. 
Our Suits are (Sir) to see the Emperor,  
the Emperor Dioclesian, to speak to him,  
and not to wait on you. We have told you all, Sir.  Get. 
I laugh at your simplicity, poor women:  
see the Emperor? why you are deceived: now  
the Emperor appears but once in seven years,  
and then he shines not on such weeds as you are.  
Forward, and keep your State, and keep beggars from me.  Drus. 
Here is a pretty youth.  Exeunt. Enter Diocles. Del. 
He shall be pretty,  
or I will want my will, since ye are so high, Sir:  
I'll raise ye higher, or my art shall fail me.  
Stand close, he comes.  Dio. 
How am I crossed and tortured?  
my most wished happiness, my lovely Mistress,  
that must make good my hopes, and link my greatness,  
yet severed from mine arms? Tell me, high heaven,  
how have I sinned, that you should speak in thunder,  
in horrid thunder, when my heart was ready  
to leap into her breast? the Priest was ready?  
the joyful virgins and the young men ready?  
when Hymen stood with all his flames about him  
blessing the bed? the house with full joy sweating?  
and expectation, like the Roman Eagle,  
took stand, and called all eyes? It was your Honour;  
and ere you give it full, do you destroy it?  
or was there some dire Star? some devil that did it?  
some sad malignant Angel to mine honour?  
With you, I dare not rage.  Del. 
With me thou canst not,  
though it was I. Nay, look not pale and frighted;  
I'll fright thee more. With me thou canst not quarrel;  
I raised the thunder, to rebuke thy falsehood:  
look here, to her thy falsehood. Now be angry,  
and be as great in evil as in Empire.  Dio. 
Bless me, ye Powers.  Del. 
Thou hast full need of blessing.  
'Twas I, that at thy great Inauguration,  
hung in the air unseen: 't was I that honoured thee  
with various musics, and sweet sounding airs:  
't was I inspired the soldier's heart with wonder,  
and made him throw himself, with love and duty,  
low as thy feet: 't was I that fixed him to thee.  
But why did I all this? To keep thy honesty,  
thy vow and faith, that once forgot and slighted  
Aurelia in regard, the Marriage ready,  
the Priest and all the Ceremonies present.  
'T was I that thundered loud; 't was I that threatened;  
't was I that cast a dark face over heaven,  
and smote ye all with terror.  Drus. 
Yet consider,  
as ye are noble, as I have deserved ye;  
for yet ye are free: if neither faith nor promise,  
the deeds of elder times may be remembered,  
let these new-dropping tears; for I still love ye,  
these hands held up to heaven.  Dio. 
I must not pity ye;  
't is not wise in me.  Del. 
How? not wise?  Dio. 
Nor honourable.  
A Princess is my Love, and dotes upon me:  
a fair and lovely Princess is my Mistress.  
I am an Emperor: consider, Prophetess,  
now my embraces are for Queens and Princesses,  
for Ladies of high mark, for divine beauties:  
to look so low as this cheap common sweetness,  
would speak me base, my names and glories nothing.  
I grant I made a vow; what was I then?  
as she is now, of no sort (Hope made me promise)  
but now I am: to keep this vow, were monstrous,  
a madness, and a low inglorious fondness.  Del. 
Take heed, proud man.  Drus. 
PRINCE's may love with Titles,  
but I with Truth.  Del. 
Take heed; here stands thy destiny;  
thy Fate here follows.  Dio. 
Thou doting Sorceress,  
wouldst have me love this Thing, that is not worthy  
to kneel unto my Saint? to kiss her shadow?  
Great Princes are her slaves; selected beauties  
bow at her beck: the mighty Persian's daughter  
(bright as the breaking East, as the midday glorious)  
waits her commands, and grows proud in her pleasures.  
I'll see her honoured: some Watch I shall think of,  
that shall advance ye both; mean time I'll favour ye. Exit.  Del. 
Mean time I'll haunt thee. Cry not (wench) be confident,  
ere long, thou shalt more pity him (observe me)  
and pity him in truth, then now thou seek'st him:  
my Art and I are yet companions. Come, Girl. Exeunt.   

Scaena Secunda.  Enter Geta, Lictors. Get. 
I am too merciful, I find it (friends)  
of too soft a nature to be an Officer;  
I bear too much remorse.  1 Lict. 
'T is your own fault, Sir;  
for look you, One so newly warm in Office  
should lay about him blindfold, like true Justice,  
hit where it will: the more ye whip and hang, Sir,  
(though without cause; let that declare itself afterward)  
the more ye are admired.  Get. 
I think I shall be.—  2 Lict. 
Your Worship is a man of a spare body,  
and prone to anger.  Get. 
Nay, I will be angry,  
and, the best is, I need not show my reason.  2 Lict. 
You need not, Sir, your place is without reason;  
and what you want in growth and full proportion,  
make up in rule and rigour.  Get. 
A rare Counsellor;  
instruct me further. Is it fit, my friends,  
the Emperor my Master Dioclesian  
should now remember or the Times or Manners  
that called him plain down Diocles?  1 Lict. 
He must not,  
it stands not with his Royalty.  Get. 
I grant ye,  
I being then the Aedile Getianus,  
a man of Place, and Judge, it is held requisite  
I should commit to my consideration  
those Rascals of removed and ragged hours,  
that with unreverend mouths called me Slave Geta?  2 Lict. 
You must forget their names; your Honour bids ye.  Get. 
I do forget; but I'll hang their natures:  
I will ascend my Place, which is of Justice;  
and Mercy, I forget thee.  Suitor. 
A rare Magistrate;  
another Solon sure.  Get. 
Bring out the offenders.  1 Lict. 
There are none yet, Sir, but no doubt there will be.  
but if you please touch some things of those natures.  Get. 
And am I ready, and mine anger too?  
the melancholy of a Magistrate upon me,  
and no offenders to execute my fury?  
Ha? no offenders, knaves?  1 Lict. 
There are knaves indeed, Sir,  
but we hope shortly to have 'em for your Worship.  Get. 
No men to hang or whip? are you good Officers,  
that provide no fuel for a Judge's fury?  
in this Place something must be done; this Chair, I tell ye,  
when I sit down, must favour of Severity:  
therefore I warn ye all, bring me lewd people,  
or likely to be lewd; twigs must be cropped too:  
let me have evil persons in abundance,  
or make 'em evil; 't is all one, do but say so,  
that I may have fit matter for a Magistrate;  
and let me work. If I sit empty once more,  
and lose my longing, as I am true Aedile,  
and as I hope to rectify my Country,  
you are those scabs I will scratch off from the Commonwealth:  
you are those Rascals of the State I treat of,  
and you shall find and feel.—  2 Lict. 
You shall have many,  
many notorious people.  Get. 
Let 'em be people,  
and take ye notorious to yourselves. Mark me, my Lictors,  
and you, the rest of my Officials;  
If I be angry, as my place will ask it,  
and want fit matter to dispose my Authority,  
I'll hang a hundred of ye: I'll not stay longer,  
nor inquire no further into your offences:  
it is sufficient that I find no Criminals,  
and therefore I must make some: if I cannot,  
suffer myself; for so runs my Commission.  Suitor. 
An admirable, zealous and true Justice.  1 Lict. 
I cannot hold: if there be any people,  
of what degree soever, or what quality,  
that would behold the wonderful works of Justice  
in a new Officer, a man concealed yet,  
let him repair, and see, and hear, and wonder  
at the most wise and gracious Getianus.  Enter Delphia and Drusilla. Get. 
This qualifies a little. What are these?  Del. 
You shall not mourn still: times of recreation,  
to allay this sadness, must be sought. What's here?  
a superstitious flock of senseless people  
worshipping a sign in Office?  Get. 
Lay hold on her,  
and hold her fast,  
she'll slip thorough your fingers like an Eel else;  
I know her tricks: hold her, I say, and bind her,  
or hang her first, and then I'll tell her wherefore.  Del. 
What have I done?  Get. 
Thou hast done enough to undo thee;  
thou hast pressed to the emperor's presence without my warrant,  
I being his key and image.  Del. 
You are an image indeed,  
and of the coursest stuff, and the worst making  
that ere I looked on yet: I'll make as good an image of an Ass.  Get. 
Besides, thou art a woman of a lewd life.  Del. 
I am nowhere, Sir, nor no common fame  
has yet proclaimed me to the people, vicious.  Get. 
Thou art to me a damnable lewd woman,  
which is as much as all the people swore it;  
I know thou art a keeper of tame devils:  
and whereas great and grave men of my Place  
can by the Laws be allowed but one apiece,  
for their own services and recreations;  
thou, like a traitorous quean, keep'st twenty devils;  
twenty in ordinary.  Del. 
Pray ye, Sir, be pacified,  
if that be all: and if ye want a servant,  
you shall have one of mine shall serve for nothing,  
faithful, and diligent, and a wise devil too;  
think for what end.  Get. 
Let her alone, 't is useful;  
we men of business must use speedy servants:  
let me see your family.  Del. 
Think but one, he is ready.  Get. 
A devil for intelligence? No, no,  
he will lie beyond all travellers. A State-devil?  
Neither; he will undo me at mine own weapon.  
For execution? he will hang me too.  
I would have a handsome, pleasant and a fine she-devil,  
to entertain the Ladies that come to me;  
a travelled devil too, that speaks the tongues,  
and a neat carving devil.  Music. Enter a she-devil. Del. 
Be not fearful.  Get. 
A pretty brown devil i'faith; may I not kiss her?  Del. 
Yes, and embrace her too; she is your servant.  
Fear not; her lips are cool enough.  Get. 
She is marvellous well mounted; what 's her name?  Del. 
Lucifera.  Get. 
Come hither, Lucifera, and kiss me.  Del. 
Let her sit on your knee.  Get. 
The Chair turns: null:  
pleasant i'faith, and a fine facetious devil.  Dance. Del. 
She would whisper in your ear, and tell ye wonders.  Get. 
Come; what's her name?  Del. 
Lucifera.  Get. 
Come, lucy, come, speak thy mind. I am certain burnt to ashes.  Exeunt. 
I have a kind of Glass-house in my codpiece.  
Are these the flames of State? I am roasted over,  
over, and overroasted. Is this Office?  
the pleasures of Authority? I'll no more on't,  
till I can punish devils too; I'll quit it.  
Some other Trade now, and some course less dangerous,  
or certainly I'll tile again for two pence.  Exit.  

Scoena Tertia.  Enter Charinus, Aurelia, Cassana, Ambassadors, Attendants. Aur. 
Never dispute with me; you cannot have her:  
nor name the greatness of your King; I scorn him:  
your knees to me are nothing; should he bow too,  
it were his duty, and my power to slight him.  Cha. 
She is her woman; never sue to me;  
and in her power to render her, or keep her;  
and she, my sister, not to be compelled,  
nor have her own snatched from her.  Amb. 
We desire not,  
but for what ransom she shall please to think of;  
Jewels, or Towns, or Provinces.  Aur. 
No ransom,  
No, not your Kings own head, his crown upon it,  
and all the low subjections of his People.  Am. 
Fair Princes should have tender thoughts.  Aur. 
Is she too good  
to wait upon the mighty emperor's sister?  
What Princess of that sweetness, or that excellence,  
sprung from the proudest, and the mightiest Monarchs,  
but may be highly blessed to be my servant?  Cas. 
'Tis most true, mighty Lady.  Aur. 
Has my fair usage  
made you so much despise me and your fortune,  
that ye grow weary of my entertainments?  
Henceforward, as ye are, I will command ye,  
and as you were ordained my prisoner,  
my slave, and one I may dispose of any way,  
no more my fair Companion: tell your King so:  
and if he had more sisters, I would have 'em,  
and use 'em as I please. You have your Answer.  Amb. 
We must take some other way: force must compel it. Exit.  Enter Maximinian. Max. 
Now if thou be'st a Prophetess, and canst do  
things of that wonder that thy tongue delivers,  
canst raise me too: I shall be bound to speak thee:  
I half believe, confirm the other to me,  
and Monuments to all succeeding Ages,  
of thee, and of thy piety.— Now she eyes me.  
Now work great power of Art: she moves unto me:  
how sweet, how fair, and lovely her aspects are?  
her eyes are like bright joan flames shot thorough me.  Aur. 
O my fair friend, where have you been?  Max. 
What am I?  
what does she take me for? Work still, work strongly.  Aur. 
Where have you fled, my loves and my embraces?  Max. 
I am beyond my wits.  Aur. 
Can one poor Thunder,  
whose causes are as common as his noises,  
make ye defer your lawful and free pleasures?  
strike terror to a soldier's heart, a monarch's?  
Thorough all the fires of angry heaven, thorough tempests  
that sing of nothing but destruction,  
even underneath the bolt of Jove, then ready,  
and aiming dreadfully, I would seek you,  
and fly into your arms.  Max. 
I shall be mighty,  
and (which I never knew yet) I am goodly;  
for certain, a most handsome man.  Cha. 
Fie, sister,  
what a forgetful weakness is this in ye?  
what a light presence? these are words and offers  
due only to your husband Dioclesian;  
this free behaviour only his.  Aur. 
'Tis strange  
that only empty Names compel Affections:  
this man, ye see, give him what name or title,  
let it be ne'er so poor, ne'er so despised (brother)  
this lovely man.—  Max. 
Though I be hanged, I'll forward:  
for (certain) I am excellent, and knew not.  Aur. 
This rare and sweet young man, see how he looks, Sir,  Max. 
I'll justle hard, dear Uncle.  Aur. 
This Thing, I say,  
let him be what he will, or bear what fortune,  
this most unequalled man, this spring of beauty  
deserves the bed of Juno.  Cha. 
You are not mad.  Max. 
I hope she be; I am sure I am little better.  Aur. 
O fair, sweet man!  Cha. 
For shame refrain this impudence.  Max. 
Would I had her alone, that I might seal this blessing:  
sure, sure she should not beg: If this continue,  
as I hope (heaven) it will; Uncle, I'll nick ye,  
I'll nick ye, by this life. Some would fear killing  
in the pursuit now of so rare a venture; Enter Diocles.  
I am covetous to die for such a Beauty.  
Mine Uncle comes: now, if she stand, I am happy.  Cha. 
Be right again, for honour's sake.  Dio. 
Fair Mistress—  Aur. 
What man is this? Away. What saucy fellow?  
dare any such base groom press to salute me?  Dio. 
Have ye forgot me (Fair) or do you jest with me?  
I'll tell ye what I am: come, pray ye look lovely.  
Nothing but frowns and scorns?  Aur. 
Who is this fellow?  Dio. 
I'll tell ye who I am: I am your husband.  Aur. 
Husband to me?  Dio. 
To you. I am Dioclesian.  Max. 
More of this sport, and I am made, old mother:  
effect but this thou hast begun.  Dio. 
I am he (Lady)  
revenged your brother's death; slew cruel Aper:  
I am he the Soldier courts, the Empire honours,  
your Brother loves: am he (my lovely Mistress)  
will make you Empress of the world.  Max. 
Still excellent:  
Now I see too, mine Uncle may be cozened.  
An Emperor may suffer like another.  
Well said (old mother) hold but up this miracle.  Aur. 
Thou liest; thou art not he: thou a brave fellow?  Cha. 
Is there no shame, no modesty in women?  Aur. 
Thou one of high and full mark?  Dio. 
Gods, what ails she?  Aur. 
Generous and noble? Fie, thou liest most basely.  
Thy face, and all aspect upon thee, tells me  
thou art a poor Dalmatian slave, a low thing  
not worth the name of Roman: stand off farther.  Dio. 
What may this mean?  Aur. 
Come hither, my Endymion;  
come, show thyself, and all eyes be blessed in thee.  Dio. 
Hah? what is this?  Aur. 
Thou fair Star that I live by,  
look lovely on me, break into full brightness:  
Look, here's a face now, of another making,  
another mould; here's a divine proportion,  
eyes fit for Phoebus self, to gild the world with;  
and there's a brow arched like the state of heaven;  
look how it bends, and with what radiance,  
as if the Synod of the gods sat under:  
look there, and wonder: now behold that fellow,  
that admirable thing, cut with an axe out.  Max. 
Old woman, though I cannot give thee recompense,  
yet (certainly) I'll make thy name as glorious.  Dio. 
Is this in truth?  Cha. 
She is mad, and you must pardon her.  Dio. 
She hangs upon him: see.  Cha. 
Her fit is strong now:  
be not you passionate.  Dio. 
She kisses.  Cha. 
Let her;  
't is but the fondness of her fit.  Dio. 
I am fooled,  
and if I suffer this.  Cha. 
Pray ye (friend) be pacified,  
this will be off anon: she goes in. Exit Aurelia.  Dio. 
Sirrah.  Max. 
What say you, Sir?  Dio. 
How dare thy lips, thy base lips?  Max. 
I am your kinsman Sir, and no such base one:  
I sought no kisses, nor I had no reason  
to kick the Princess from me: 'twas no manners:  
I never yet compelled her: of her courtesy  
what she bestows Sir, I am thankful for.  Dio. 
Be gone villain.  Max. 
I will, and I will go off with that glory,  
and magnify my fate. Exit.  Dio. 
Good brother leave me,  
I am to myself a trouble now.  Char. 
I am sorry for't.  
You'll find it but a woman-fit to try ye.  Dio. 
It may be so; I hope so.  Cha. 
I am ashamed, and what I think I blush at. Exit.  Dio. 
What misery hath my great Fortune bred me?  
and how far must I suffer? Poor and low States,  
though they know wants and hungers, know not these,  
know not these killing Fates: Little contents them,  
and with that little they live, Kings commanding,  
and ordering both their Ends and Loves. O Honour!  
how greedily men seek thee, and once purchased,  
how many enemies to man's peace bringst thou?  
how many griefs and sorrows, that like shears,  
like fatal shears, are shearing off our lives still?  
how many sad eclipses do we shine thorough?  Enter Delphia, Drusilla veiled. 
When I presumed I was blessed in this fair woman,  Del. 
Behold him now, and tell me how thou likest him.  Dio. 
When all my hopes were up, and Fortune dealt me  
even for the greatest and the happiest Monarch,  
than to be cozened, to be cheated basely?  
by mine own kinsman crossed? O villain kinsman!  
Curse of my blood; because a little younger,  
a little smoother faced: O false, false woman,  
false and forgetful of thy faith: I'll kill him.  
But can I kill her hate too? No: he woos not,  
nor worthy is of death, because she follows him,  
because she courts him: Shall I kill an innocent?  
O Diocles! would thou hadst never known this,  
nor surfeited upon this sweet Ambition,  
that now lies bitter at thy heart: O Fortune,  
that thou hast none to fool and blow like bubbles,  
but Kings, and their Contents!  Del. 
What think ye now, Girl?  Dru. 
Upon my life, I pity his misfortune.  
See how he weeps; I cannot hold.  Del. 
Away fool;  
he must weep bloody tears before thou hast him.  
How fare ye now, brave Dioclesian?  
What? lazy in your loves? has too much pleasure  
dulled your most mighty faculties?  Dio. 
Art thou there?  
more to torment me? Dost thou come to mock me?  Del. 
I do: and I do laugh at all thy sufferings.  
I that have wrought 'em come to scorn thy wailings:  
I told thee once, This is thy fate, this woman,  
and as thou usest her, so thou shalt prosper.  
It is not in thy power to turn this destiny,  
not stop the torrent of those miseries  
(if thou neglect'st her still) shall fall upon thee.  
Sigh that thou art dishonest, false of faith,  
proud, and dost think no power can cross thy pleasures;  
thou wilt find a Fate above thee.  Dru. 
Good Aunt speak mildly:  
see how he looks and suffers.  Dio. 
I find and feel, woman,  
that I am miserable.  Del. 
Thou art most miserable.  Dio. 
That as I am the most, I am most miserable.  
But didst thou work this?  Del. 
Yes, and will pursue it.  Dio. 
Stay there, and have some pity: fair Drusilla,  
let me persuade thy mercy, thou hast loved me,  
although I know my suit will sound unjustly  
to make thy love the means to lose itself,  
have pity on me.  Dru. 
I will do.  Del. 
Peace Niece.  
although this softness may become your love,  
your care must scorn it. Let him still contemn thee,  
And still I'll work: the same affection  
he ever shows to thee, be it sweet or bitter,  
the same Aurelia shall show him; no further:  
nor shall the wealth of all his Empire free this.  Dio. 
I must speak fair. Lovely young maid, forgive me,  
look gently on my sorrows: You that grieve too;  
I see it in your eyes, and thus I meet it.  Dru. 
O Aunt, I am blessed.  Dio. 
Be not both young and cruel,  
again I beg it, thus.  Dru. 
Thus, Sir, I grant it. Enter Aurelia.  
He's mine own now, Aunt.  Del. 
Not yet (Girl) thou art cozened.  Aur. 
O my dear Lord, how have I wronged your patience?  
how wandered from the truth of my affections?  
how (like a wanton fool) shunned that I loved most?  
but you are full of goodness to forgive, Sir,  
as I of grief to beg, and shame to take it:  
sure I was not myself, some strange illusion,  
or what you please to pardon.  Dio. 
All, my Dearest;  
all, my Delight; and with more pleasure take thee,  
than if there had been no such dream: for certain,  
it was no more.  Aur. 
Now you have sealed forgiveness,  
I take my leave; and the gods keep your goodness.  Exit. Del. 
You see how kindness prospers: be but so kind  
to marry her, and see then what new fortunes,  
new joys, and pleasures; far beyond this Lady,  
beyond her Greatness too.  Dio. 
I'll die a dog first.  
Now I am reconciled, I will enjoy her  
in spite of all thy spirits, and thy witchcrafts.  Del. 
Thou shalt not (fool).  Dio. 
I will, old doting Devils;  
and wert thou any thing but air and spirit,  
my sword should tell thee.  Del. 
I contemn thy threatenings,  
and thou shalt know I hold a power above thee.  
we must remove Aurelia: Come, farewell fool,  
when thou shalt see me next, thou shalt bow to me.  Dio. 
Look thou appear no more to cross my pleasures.  Exeunt.   

Actus Quartus.  

Scaena Prima.  Enter CHORUS. 
So full of matter is our History,  
Yet mixed, I hope with sweet variety,  
The accidents not vulgar too, but rare,  
And fit to be presented, that there wants  
Room in this narrow Stage, and time to express  
In Action to the life, our Dioclesian  
In his full lustre: Yet (as the Statuary,  
That by the large size of Alcides' foot,  
Guessed at his whole proportion) so we hope,  
Your apprehensive judgements will conceive  
Out of the shadow we can only show,  
How fair the body was; and will be pleased,  
Out of your wonted goodness, to behold  
As in a silent Mirror, what we cannot  
With fit conveniency of time, allowed  
For such Presentments, cloth in vocal sounds.  
Yet with such Art the Subject is conveyed,  
That every Scene and passage shall be clear  
Even to the grossest understander here.  Loud Music. Dumb Show. Enter (at one door) Delphia, Ambassadors, they whisper together; they take an oath upon her hand; She circles them (kneeling) with her Magic rod; They rise and draw their Swords. Enter (at the other door) Dioclesian, Charinus, Maximinian, Niger, Aurelia, Cassana, Guard; Charinus and Niger persuading Aurelia; She offers to embrace Maximinian; Diocles draws his sword, keeps off Maximinian, turns to Aurelia, kneels to her, lays his sword at her feet, she scornfully turns away: Delphia gives a sign; the Ambassadors and Soldiers rush upon them, seize on Aurelia, Cassana, Charinus, and Maximinian; Dioclesian and others offer to rescue them; Delphia raises a Mist: Exeunt Ambassadors and Prisoners, and the rest discontented. 
The skilful Delphia finding by sure proof  
The presence of Aurelia dimed the beauty  
Of her Drusilla; and in spite of Charms,  
The Emperor her Brother, Great Charinus,  
Still urged her to the love of Dioclesian,  
Deals with the Persian Legates, that were bound  
For the Ransom of Cassana, to remove  
Aurelia, Maximinian, and Charinus  
Out of the sight of Rome; but takes their oaths  
(In lieu of her assistance) that they shall not  
On any terms, when they were in their power,  
Presume to touch their lives: This yielded to,  
They lie in ambush for 'em. Dioclesian  
Still mad for fair Aurelia, that doted  
As much upon Maximinian, twice had killed him,  
But that her frown restrained him: He pursues her  
With all humility; but she continues  
Proud and disdainful. The sign given by Delphia,  
The Persians break thorough, and seize upon  
Charinus and his Sister, with Maximinian,  
And free Cassana. For their speedy rescue,  
Enraged Dioclesian draws his sword,  
And bids his Guard assist him: Then too weak  
Had been all opposition and resistance  
The Persians could have made against their fury,  
If Delphia by her cunning had not raised  
A foggy mist, which as a cloud concealed them,  
Deceiving their Pursuers. Now be pleased,  
That your Imaginations may help you  
To think them safe in Persia, and Dioclesian  
For this disaster circled round with sorrow,  
Yet mindful of the wrong. Their future fortunes  
we will present in Action; and are bold  
In that which follows, that the Most shall say,  
'Twas well begun, but the End crowned the Play.  Exit.  

Scaena Secunda.  Enter Diocles, Niger, Senators, Guard. Dio. 
Talk not of comfort; I have broke my faith,  
and the God's fight against me: and proud man,  
however magnified, is but as dust  
before the raging whirlwind of their justice.  
What is it to be great? adored on earth?  
when the immortal Powers that are above us  
turn all our blessings into horrid curses,  
and laugh at our resistance, or prevention  
of what they purpose? O the Furies that  
I feel within me! whipped on, by their angers,  
for my tormentors. Could it else have been  
in Nature, that a few poor fugitive Persians,  
unfriended, and unarmed too, could have robbed me  
(in Rome, the world's Metropolis, and her glory;  
in Rome, where I command, environed round  
with such invincible Troops that know no fear,  
but want of noble Enemies) of those jewels  
I prized above my life, and I want power  
to free them, if those gods I have provoked  
had not given spirit to the undertakers,  
and in their deed protected 'em?  Nig. 
Great Caesar,  
your safety does confirm you are their care,  
and that howe'er their practices reach others,  
you stand above their malice.  1 Sen. 
Rome in us  
offers (as means to further your revenge)  
the lives of her best Citizens,  
and all they stand possessed of.  1 Gu. 
Do but lead us on  
with that invincible and undaunted courage  
which waited bravely on you, when you appeared  
the Minion of Conquest: Married rather  
to glorious Victory, and we will drag  
(though all the enemies of life conspire  
against our undertakings) the proud Persian  
out of his strongest hold.  2 Gu. 
Be but yourself,  
and do not talk but do.  3 Gu. 
You have hands and swords,  
Limbs to make up a well proportioned Army,  
that only want in you an Head to lead us.  Dio. 
The gods reward your goodness; and believe,  
howe'er (for some great sin) I am marked out  
the object of their hate, though Jove stood ready  
to dart his threefold thunder, on this head,  
it could not fright me from a fierce pursuit  
of my revenge: I will redeem my friends,  
and with my friends mine honour; at least fall  
like to myself, a Soldier.  Nig. 
Now we hear  
Great Dioclesian speak.  Dio. 
Draw up our Legions,  
and let it be your care (my much loved Niger)  
to hasten the remove: And fellow-soldiers,  
your love to me will teach you to endure  
both long and tedious marches.  1 Gu. 
Die he accursed  
that thinks of rest or sleep, before he sets  
his foot on Persian earth.  Nig. 
we know our glory:  
the dignity of Rome, and what's above  
all can be urged, the quiet of your mind  
depends upon our haste.  Dio. 
Remove tonight:  
five days shall bring me to you.  All. 
Happiness  
to Cesar, and glorious victory. Exeunt.  Dio. 
The cheerfulness of my Soldiers gives assurance  
of good success abroad; if first I make  
my peace at home here. There is something chides me,  
and sharply tells me, that my breach of faith  
to Delphia and Drusilla, is the ground  
of my misfortunes: And I must remember,  
while I was loved, and in great Delphia's grace,  
she was as my good angel, and bound Fortune  
to prosper my designs: I must appease her:  
Let others pay their knees, their vows, their prayers  
to weak imagined Powers; she is my All,  
and thus I do invoke her. Knowing Delphia,  
thou more than woman, and though thou vouchsafest  
to grace the earth with thy celestial steps,  
and taste this grosser air, thy heavenly spirit  
hath free access to all the secret counsels  
which a full Senate of the gods determine  
when they consider man: The brass-leaved book  
of Fate lies open to thee, where thou readest,  
and fashionest the destinies of men  
at thy wished pleasure: Look upon thy creature,  
and as thou twice hast pleased to appear  
to reprehend my falsehood, now vouchsafe  
to see my low submission.  Del. 
What's thy will?  
false, and unthankful, (and in that deserving  
all humane sorrows) dar'st thou hope from me  
relief or comfort?  Dio. 
Penitence does appease  
th'incensed Powers, and Sacrifice takes off  
their heavy angers; thus I tender both:  
the Master of great Rome, and in that, Lord  
of all the Sun gives heat and being to,  
thus sues for mercy: Be but as thou wert,  
the Pilot to the Bark of my good fortunes,  
and once more steer my Actions to the Port  
of glorious honour, and if I fall off  
hereafter from my faith to this sweet Virgin,  
join with those Powers that punish perjury,  
to make me an example, to deter  
others from being false.  Dru. 
Upon my soul  
you may believe him: nor did he ere purpose  
to me but nobly; he made trial how  
I could endure unkindness; I see Truth  
triumphant in his sorrow. Dearest Aunt,  
both credit him, and help him; and on assurance  
that what I plead for, you cannot deny,  
I raise him thus, and with this willing kiss  
I seal his pardon.  Dio. 
O that I ere looked  
beyond this abstract of all woman's goodness.  Del. 
I am thine again; thus I confirm our league:  
I know thy wishes, and how much thou sufferest  
in honour for thy friends: thou shalt repair all;  
for to thy fleet I'll give a foreright wind  
to pass the Persian gulf; remove all lets  
that may molest thy soldiers in their March  
that pass by land: and destiny is false,  
if thou prove not victorious: Yet remember,  
when thou art raised up to the highest point  
of humane happiness, such as move beyond it  
must of necessity descend. Think on't,  
and use those blessings that the God's pour on you  
with moderation.  Dio. 
As their Oracle  
I hear you, and obey you, and will follow  
your grave directions.  Del. 
You will not repent it. Exeunt.   

Scaena Tertia.  Enter Niger, Geta, Guard, Soldiers, Ensigns. Nig. 
How do you like your entrance to the War?  
when the whole Body of the Army moves,  
shows it not gloriously?  Get. 
'Tis a fine May-game:  
but eating and drinking I think are forbade in't,  
(I mean, with leisure) we walk on, and feed  
like hungry boys that haste to School; or as  
we carried fish to the City, dare stay nowhere,  
for fear our ware should stink.  1. Gu. 
That's the necessity  
of our speedy March.  Get. 
Sir, I do love my ease,  
and though I hate all Seats of Judicature,  
I mean in the City, for conveniency,  
I still will be a Justice in the War,  
and ride upon my foot-cloth. I hope a Captain  
(and a gowned-captain too) may be dispensed with.  
I tell you, and do not mock me, when I was poor,  
I could endure like others, cold and hunger:  
but since I grew rich, let but my finger ache,  
or feel but the least pain in my great toe,  
unless I have a Doctor, mine own Doctor,  
that may assure me, I am gone.  Nig. 
Come, fear not;  
you shall want nothing.  1. Gu. 
We will make you fight  
as you were mad.  Get. 
Not too much of fighting, Friend:  
it is thy trade, that art a common soldier:  
We Officers, by our place, may share the spoil,  
and never sweat for't.  2. Gu. 
You shall kill for practice  
but your dozen or two a day.  Get. 
Thou talk'st as if  
thou wert lousing thyself: but yet I will make danger.  
If I prove one of the Worthies, so: However,  
I'll have the fear of the gods before my eyes,  
and do no hurt, I warrant you.  Nig. 
Come, March on,  
and humour him for our mirth.  1. Gu. 
'Tis a fine peak-goose.  Nig. 
But one that fools to the Emperor, and in that,  
a wise man and a Soldier.  1. Gu. 
True morality. Exeunt.   

Scaena quarta.  Enter Cosroe, Cassana, Persians; and Charinus, Maximinian, Aurelia (bound) with Soldiers. Cos. 
Now by the Persian gods, most truly welcome,  
encompassed thus with tributary kings,  
I entertain you. Lend your helping hands  
to seat her by me: and thus raised, bow all,  
to do her honour: O, my best Cassana,  
Sister, and partner of my life and Empire,  
we'll teach thee to forget with present pleasures  
thy late captivity: and this proud Roman,  
that used thee as a slave, and did disdain  
a Princely Ransom, shall (if she repine)  
be forced by various Tortures, to adore  
what she of late contemned.  Cas. 
All greatness ever  
attend Cosroe: though Persia be styled  
the nurse of pomp and pride; we'll leave to Rome  
her native cruelty. For know Aurelia,  
a Roman Princess, and a Caesar's Sister,  
though now, like thee captived, I can forget.  
thy barbarous usage: and though thou to me  
(when I was in thy power) didst show thyself  
a most insulting Tyranness, I to thee  
may prove a gentle Mistress.  Aur. 
O my Stars,  
a Mistress? can I love and owe that name  
to flesh and blood? I was borne to command,  
trained up in Sovereignty; and I, in death  
can quit the name of slave: She that scorns life,  
may mock captivity.  Char. 
Rome will be Rome  
when we are nothing: and her powers the same  
which you once quaked at.  Max. 
Dioclesian lives;  
hear it, and tremble: Lives (thou King of Persia)  
the Master of his fortune, and his honour:  
and though by devilish Arts we were surprised,  
and made the prey of Magic and of Theft,  
and not won nobly, we shall be redeemed,  
and by a Roman war; and every wrong  
we suffer here, with interest, be returned  
on the insulting doer.  1 Per. 
Sure these Romans  
are more than men.  2 Per. 
Their great hearts will not yield,  
they cannot bend to any adverse Fate,  
such is their confidence.  Cosr. 
They then shall break.  
Why, you rebellious wretches, dare you still  
contend, when the least breath, or nod of mine  
marks you out for the fire? or to be made  
the prey of wolfs or vultures? The vain name  
of Roman Legions, I slight thus, and scorn:  
and for that boasted bugbear, Dioclesian  
(which you presume on) would he were the Master  
but of the spirit, to meet me in the field,  
he soon should find, that our immortal Squadrons,  
that with full numbers ever are supplied,  
(could it be possible they should decay)  
dare front his boldest Troops, and scatter 'em,  
as an high towering Falcon on her Stretches,  
severs the fearful fowl. And by the Sun,  
the Moon, the Winds, the nourishers of life,  
and by this Sword, the instrument of death,  
since that you fly not humbly to our Mercy,  
but yet dare hope your liberty by force;  
if Dioclesian dare not attempt  
to free you with his sword, all slavery  
that cruelty can find out to make you wretched,  
falls heavy on you.  Max. 
If the Sun keeps his course,  
and the earth can bear his soldiers march, I fear not.  Aur. 
Or liberty, or revenge.  Char. 
On that I build too. A Trumpet.  Aur. 
A Roman Trumpet!  Max. 
'Tis: Comes it not like  
a pardon to a man condemned?  Cosr. 
Admit him. Enter Niger.  
The purpose of thy coming?  Nig. 
My great Master,  
the Lord of Rome, (in that all Power is spoken)  
hoping that thou wilt prove a noble Enemy,  
and (in thy bold resistance) worth his conquest,  
defies thee, Cosroe.  Max. 
There is fire in this.  Nig. 
And to encourage thy laborious powers  
to tug for Empire, dares thee to the Field,  
with this assurance, If thy sword can win him,  
or force his Legions with thy barbed horse,  
but to forsake their ground, that not alone  
winged Victory shall take stand on thy Tent,  
but all the Provinces, and Kingdoms held  
by the Roman Garrisons in this Eastern world,  
shall be delivered up, and he himself  
acknowledge thee his Sovereign. In return  
of this large offer, he asks only this,  
That till the doubtful die of War determine  
who has most power, and should command the other,  
thou wouldst entreat thy Prisoners like their births,  
and not their present Fortune: and to bring 'em  
(guarded) into thy Tent, with thy best Strengths,  
thy ablest men of war, and thou thyself  
sworn to make good the place. And if he fail  
(maugre all opposition can be made)  
in his own person to compel his way,  
and fetch them safely off, the day is thine,  
and he (like these) thy prisoner.  Cosr. 
Though I receive this  
but as a Roman brave, I do embrace it,  
and love the sender. Tell him, I will bring  
my Prisoners to the field, and without odds,  
against his single force, alone defend 'em;  
or else with equal numbers. Courage, noble Princes,  
and let Posterity record, that we  
this memorable day restored to Persia,  
that Empire of the world, great Philip's son  
ravished from us, and Greece gave up to Rome.  
This our strong comfort, that we cannot fall  
ingloriously, since we contend for all. Exeunt.  Flourish, Alarms.  

Scaena quinta.  Enter Geta, Guard, Soldiers. Get. 
I'll swear the peace against 'em, I am hurt,  
run for a Surgeon, or I faint.  1. Gu. 
Bear up man,  
'tis but a scratch.  Get. 
Scoring a man o'er the coxcomb  
is but a scratch with you:— oF your occupation,  
your scurvy scuffling trade: I was told before  
my face was bad enough; but now I look  
like bloody bone, and raw head, to fright children;  
I am for no use else.  2. Gu. 
Thou shalt fright men.  1. Gu. 
You look so terrible now: but see your face  
in the pummel of my sword.  Get. 
I die, I am gone.  
Oh my sweet physiognomy. Enter 3 Persians.  2. Gu. 
They come.  
Now fight, or die indeed.  Get. 
I will scape this way:  
I cannot hold my sword; What would you have  
of a maimed man?  1. Gu. 
Nay, than I have a goad  
to prick you forward, Ox.  2. Gu. 
Fight like a man,  
or die lie a dog.  Get. 
Shall I, like Cesar fall  
among my friends? no mercy? Et tu Brute?  
You shall not have the honour of my death,  
I'll fall by the Enemy first.  1. Gu. 
O brave, brave Geta; Persians driven off.  
he plays the devil now. Enter Niger.  Nig. 
Make up for honour,  
the Persians shrink. The passage is laid open,  
great Dioclesian, like a second Mars,  
his strong arm governed by the fierce Bellona,  
performs more than a man: His shield struck full  
of Persian darts, which now are his defence  
against the enemy's swords, still leads the way.  
Of all the Persian Forces, one strong Squadron,  alarms continued. 
in which Cosroe in his own person fights,  
stands firm, and yet unrouted: Break thorough that,  
the day, and all is ours. Retreat.  All. 
Victory, Victory. Exeunt.  Flourish.  

Scaena Sexta  Enter (in Triumph with Roman Ensigns) Guard, Dioclesian, Charinus, Aurelia, Maximinian, Niger, Geta, Cosroe, Cassana, Persians (as Prisoners): Delphia, Drusilla, privately. Dio. 
I am rewarded in the Act: your freedom  
to me's ten thousand Triumphs: You Sir, share  
in all my Glories. And unkind Aurelia,  
from being a Captive, still command the Victor.  
Nephew, remember by whose gift you are free:  
You I afford my pity; baser minds  
insult on the afflicted, You shall know,  
Virtue and Courage is admired and loved  
in Enemies: but more of that hereafter.  
Thanks to your valour; to your swords I owe  
this wreath triumphant. Nor be thou forgot  
my first poor bondman, Geta, I am glad  
thou art turned a fighter.  Get. 
'Twas against my will:  
but now I am content with't.  Char. 
But imagine  
what honours can be done to you beyond these,  
transcending all example; 'tis in you  
to will, in us to serve it.  Nig. 
we will have  
his Statue of pure gold set in the Capitol,  
and he that bows not to it as a god,  
makes forfeit of his head.  Max. 
I burst with envy;  
and yet these honours, which conferred on me,  
would make me pace on air, seem not to move him.  Dio. 
Suppose this done, or were it possible  
I could rise higher still, I am a man,  
and all these Glories, Empires heaped upon me,  
confirmed by constant friends, and faithful Guards,  
cannot defend me from a shaking fever,  
or bribe the uncorrupted dart of death  
to spare me one short minute. Thus adorned  
in these triumphant Robes, my body yields not  
a greater shadow than it did when I  
lived both poor, and obscure; a sword's sharp point  
enters my flesh as far; dreams break my sleep  
as when I was a private man; my Passions  
are stronger tyrants on me; nor is Greatness  
a saving Antidote to keep me from  
a traitor's poison. Shall I praise my fortune,  
or raise the building of my happiness  
on her uncertain favour? or presume  
she is my own, and sure, that yet was never  
constant to any? should my reason fail me  
(as flattery oft corrupts it) here's an example,  
to speak how far her smiles are to be trusted;  
The rising Sun, this morning, saw this man  
the Persian Monarch, and those Subjects proud  
that had the honour but to kiss his feet;  
and yet ere his diurnal progress ends,  
he is the scorn of Fortune: But you'll say,  
that she forsook him for his want of courage,  
but never leaves the bold. Now by my hopes  
of peace and quiet here, I never met  
a braver Enemy: and to make it good,  
Cosroe, Cassana, and the rest, be free,  
and ransomless return.  Cosr. 
To see this virtue  
is more to me then Empire; and to be  
o'ercome by you, a glorious victory.  Max. 
What a devil means he next?  Dio. 
I know that Glory  
is like Alcides' shirt, if it stay on us  
till pride hath mixed it with our blood; nor can we  
part with it at pleasure: when we would uncase,  
it brings along with it both flesh and sinews,  
and leaves us living monsters.  Max. 
Would it were come  
to my turn to put it on: I'd run the hazard.  Dio. 
No, I will not be plucked out by the ears  
out of this glorious castle; uncompelled  
I will surrender rather: Let it suffice,  
I have touched the height of humane happiness,  
and here I fix Nil ultra. Hitherto  
I have lived a servant to ambitious thoughts,  
and fading glories: what remains of life,  
I dedicate to Virtue; and to keep  
my faith untainted, farewell Pride and Pomp,  
and circumstance of glorious Majesty,  
farewell for ever. Nephew, I have noted,  
that you have long with sore eyes looked upon  
my flourishing Fortune; you shall have possession  
of my felicity: I deliver up  
my Empire, and this gem I prized above it,  
and all things else that made me worth your envy,  
freely unto you. Gentle Sir, your suffrage,  
to strengthen this: the soldiers love I doubt not;  
his valour (Gentlemen) will deserve your favours,  
which let my prayers further. All is yours.  
But I have been too liberal, and given that  
I must beg back again.  Max. 
What am I fall'n from?  Dio. 
Nay, start not: It is only the poor Grange,  
the Patrimony which my Father left me,  
I would be Tenant to.  Max. 
Sir, I am yours:  
I will attend you there.  Dio. 
No, keep the Court:  
seek you in Rome for honour: I will labour  
to find content elsewhere. Dissuade me not,  
by—, I am resolved. And now Drusilla,  
being as poor as when I vowed to make thee  
my wife: if thy love since hath felt no change,  
I am ready to perform it.  Dru. 
I still loved  
your Person, not your Fortunes: in a cottage,  
being yours, I am an Empress.  Del. 
And I'll make  
the change most happy.  Dio. 
Do me then the honour,  
to see my vow performed. You but attend  
my Glories to the urn; where be it ashes,  
welcome my mean estate: and as a due,  
Wish Rest to me, I Honour unto you.  Exeunt.   

Actus Quintus.  

Scaena Prima.  Enter CHORUS. Cho. 
The War with glory ended; and Cosroe  
(Acknowledging his fealty to Charinus  
Dismissed in peace, returns to Persia:  
The rest, arriving safely unto Rome,  
Are entertained with Triumphs: Maximinian,  
By the grace and intercession of his Uncle,  
Saluted Caesar: but good Dioclesian,  
Weary of Pomp and State, retires himself  
With a small Train, to a most private Grange  
In lombardy; where the glad Country strives  
With Rural Sports to give him entertainment:  
With which delighted, he with ease forgets  
All specious trifles, and securely tastes  
The certain pleasures of a private life.  
But oh Ambition, that eats into  
With venomed teeth, true thankfulness, and honour.  
And to support her Greatness, fashions fears,  
Doubts, and preventions to decline all dangers,  
Which in the place of safety, prove her ruin:  
All which be pleased to see in Maximinian,  
To whom, his conferred Sovereignty was like  
A large sail filled full with a foreright wind,  
That drowns a smaller Bark: and he once fallen  
Into ingratitude, makes no stop in mischief,  
But violently runs on, Allow Maximinian all,  
Honour, and Empire, absolute command;  
Yet being ill, long great he cannot stand. Exit.   

Scaena Secunda.  Enter Maximinian and Aurelia. Aur. 
Why droops my Lord, my Love, my life, my Caesar?  
how ill this dulness doth comport with Greatness?  
Does not (with open arms) your Fortune court you?  
Rome know you for her Master? I myself  
confess you for my Husband? love, and serve you?  
if you contemn not these, and think them curses,  
I know no blessings that ambitious flesh  
could wish to feel beyond 'em.  Max. 
Best Aurelia,  
the parent and the nurse to all my Glories,  
'tis not that thus embracing you, I think  
there is a heaven beyond it, that begets  
these sad retirements; but the fear to lose  
what it is hell to part with: better to have lived  
poor and obscure, and never scaled the top  
of hilly Empire, than to die with fear  
to be thrown headlong down, almost as soon  
as we have reached it.  Aur. 
These are Panic terrors  
you fashion to yourself: Is not my Brother  
(your equal and copartner in the Empire)  
vowed and confirmed your friend? the soldier constant?  
Hath not your Uncle Dioclesian taken  
his last farewell o'th' world? What then can shake ye?  Max. 
The thought I may be shaken: and assurance  
that what we do possess is not our own,  
but has depending on another's favour:  
for nothing's more uncertain (my Aurelia)  
then Power that stands not on his proper Basis,  
but borrows his foundation. I'll make plain  
my cause of doubts and fears; for what should I  
conceal from you, that are to be familiar  
with my most private thoughts? Is not the Empire  
my Uncle's gift? and may he not resume it  
upon the least distaste? Does not Charinus  
cross me in my designs? And what is Majesty  
when 'tis divided? Does not the insolent Soldier  
call my command his donative? And what can take  
more from our honour? No (my wise Aurelia,)  
If I to you am more than all the world,  
as sure you are to me; as we desire  
to be secure, we must be absolute,  
and know no equal: when your Brother borrows  
the little splendour that he has from us,  
and we are served for fear, not at entreaty,  
we may live safe; but till then, we but walk  
with heavy burdens on a sea of glass,  
and our own weight will sink us.  Aur. 
Your Mother brought you  
into the world an Emperor: you persuade  
but what I would have counselled: Nearness of blood,  
respect of piety, and thankfulness,  
and all the holy dreams of virtuous fools  
must vanish into nothing, when Ambition  
(the maker of great minds, and nurse of honour)  
puts in for Empire. On then, and forget  
your simple Uncle; think he was the Master  
(in being once an Emperor) of a Jewel,  
whose worth and use he knew not: For Charinus,  
no more my Brother, if he be a stop  
to what you purpose; he to Me 's a stranger,  
and so to be removed.  Max. 
Thou more than woman,  
thou masculine Greatness, to whose soaring spirit  
to touch the stars seems but an easy flight;  
O how I glory in thee! those great women  
Antiquity is proud of, thou but named,  
shall be no more remembered: but persever,  
and thou shalt shine among those lesser lights  Enter Charinus, Niger, Guard. 
to all posterity like another Phebe,  
and so adored as she is.  Aur. 
Here's Charinus,  
his brow furrowed with anger.  Max. 
Let him storm,  
and you shall hear me thunder.  Cha. 
He dispose of  
my Provinces at his pleasure? and confer  
those honours (that are only mine to give)  
upon his creatures?  Nig. 
Mighty Sir, ascribe it  
to his assurance of your love and favour,  
and not to pride or malice.  Cha. 
No, good Niger,  
courtesy shall not fool me; he shall know  
I lent a hand to raise him, and defend him,  
while he continues good: but the same strength  
if pride make him usurp upon my Right,  
shall strike him to the Centre. You are well met, Sir.  Max. 
As you make the Encounter: Sir, I hear,  
that you repine, and hold yourself much grieved,  
in that, without your good leave, I bestowed  
the Gallian Proconsulship upon  
a follower of mine.  Cha. 
'Tis true: and wonder  
you durst attempt it.  Max. 
Durst, Charinus?  Cha. 
Durst:  
again, I speak it: Think you me so tame,  
so leaden and unactive, to sit down  
with such dishonour? But, recall your grant,  
and speedily; or by the Roman—  
thou trip'st thine own heels up, and hast no part  
in Rome, or in the Empire.  Max. 
Thou hast none,  
but by permission: Alas, poor Charinus,  
thou shadow of an Emperor, I scorn thee,  
thee, and thy foolish threats: The gods appoint him  
the absolute disposer of the Earth,  
that has the sharpest sword. I am sure (Charinus)  
thou wear'st one without edge. When cruel Aper  
had killed Numerianus, thy Brother,  
(an act that would have made a trembling coward  
more daring than Alcides) thy base fear  
made thee wink at it: then rose up my Uncle  
(for the honour of the Empire, and of Rome)  
against the Traitor, and among his Guards  
punished the treason: This bold daring act  
got him the soldier's suffrages to be Caesar.  
And howsoever his too gentle nature  
allowed thee the name only, as his gift,  
I challenge the succession.  Cha. 
Thou art cozened.  
When the receiver of a courtesy  
cannot sustain the weight it carries with it,  
'tis but a Trial, not a present Act.  
Thou hast in a few days of thy short Reign,  
in overweening pride, riot and lusts,  
shamed noble Dioclesian, and his gift:  
nor doubt I, when it shall arrive unto  
his certain knowledge, how the Empire groans  
under thy Tyranny, but he will forsake  
his private life, and once again resume  
his laid-by Majesty: or at least, make choice  
of such an Atlas as may bear this burden,  
too heavy for thy shoulders. To effect this,  
lend your assistance (Gentlemen) and then doubt not  
but that this mushroom (sprung up in a night)  
shall as soon wither. And for you (Aurelia)  
if you esteem your honour more than tribute  
paid to your loathsome appetite, as a Fury  
fly from his loose embraces: so farewell;  
ere long you shall hear more. Exeunt.  Aur. 
Are you struck dumb,  
that you make no reply?  Max. 
Sweet, I will do,  
and after talk: I will prevent their plots,  
and turn them on their own accursed heads.  
My Uncle? good: I must not know the names  
of Piety or pity. Steel my heart,  
desire of Empire, and instruct me, that  
the Prince that over others would bear sway,  
checks at no Let that stops him in his way.  Exeunt.  

Scaena Tertia.  Enter three Shepherds, and two Countrymen. 1 Sh. 
Do you think this great man will continue here?  2 Sh. 
Continue here? what else? he has bought the great Farm;  
a great man, with a great Inheritance,  
and all the ground about it, all the woods too;  
and stocked it like an Emperor. Now, all our sports again  
and all our merry Gambols, our May-Ladies,  
our evening-dances on the Green, our Songs,  
our Holiday good cheer, our Bagpipes now Boys,  
shall make the wanton Lasses skip again,  
our Sheep-shearings, and all our knacks.  3 Sh. 
But hark ye,  
we must not call him Emperor.  1 Countr. 
That's all one;  
he is the king of good fellows, that's no treason;  
and so I'll call him still, though I be hanged for't.  
I grant ye, he has given his honour to another man,  
he cannot give his humour: he is a brave fellow,  
and will love us, and we'll love him. Come hither Ladon,  
what new Songs, and what jeers?  3 Sh. 
Enough: I'll tell ye  
he comes abroad anon to view his grounds,  
and with the help of Thirsis, and old Egon,  
(if his whoreson could begone) & Amaryllis,  
and some few more o'th' wenches, we will meet him,  
and strike him such new Springs, and such free welcome,  
shall make him scorn an Empire, forget Majesty,  
and make him bless the hour he lived here happy.  2 Countr. 
And we will second ye, we honest Carters,  
we lads o'th' lash, with some blunt entertainment,  
our Teams to two pence, will give him some content,  
or we'll bawl fearfully.  3 Sh. 
He cannot expect now  
his Courtly entertainments, and his rare musics,  
and Ladies to delight him with their voices;  
honest and cheerful toys from honest meanings,  
and the best hearts they have. We must be neat all:  
on goes my russet jerkin with blue buttons.  1 Sh. 
And my green slops I was married in; my bonnet  
with my carnation point with silver tags, boys:  
You know where I won it.  1 Countr. 
Thou wilt ne'er be old, Alexis,  1 Sh. 
And I shall find some toys that have been favours,  
and nosegays, and such knacks: for there be wenches.  3 Sh. 
My mantle goes on too I played young Paris in,  
and the new garters Amaryllis sent me.  1 Coun. 
Yes, yes: we'll all be handsome, and wash our faces.  
Neighbour, I see a remnant of March dust  
that's hatched into your chaps: I pray ye be careful.  Enter Geta. 
and mundify your muzzle.  2. Countr. 
I'll to th' Barbers,  
It shall cost me I know what. Who's this?  3. Sh. 
Give room, neighbours,  
a great man in our State: gods bless your Worship.  2. Countr. 
Increase your Mastership.  Get. 
Thanks, my good people:  
Stand off, and know your duties: as I take it  
you are the labouring people of this village,  
and you that keep the sheep. Stand farther off yet,  
and mingle not with my Authority,  
I am too mighty for your company.  3. Sh. 
we know it Sir; and we desire your Worship  
to reckon us amongst your humble servants,  
and that our Country Sports, Sir,—  Get. 
For your Sports, Sir,  
they may be seen, when I shall think convenient,  
when out of my discretion, I shall view 'em,  
and hold 'em fit for licence. Ye look upon me,  
and look upon me seriously, as ye knew me:  
'Tis true, I have been a Rascal, as you are,  
a fellow of no mention, nor no mark,  
just such another piece of dirt, so fashioned:  
But Time, that purifies all things of merit,  
has set another stamp. Come nearer now,  
and be not fearful; I take off my austerity:  
and know me for the great and mighty Steward  
under this man of Honour: know ye for my vassals,  
and at my pleasure; I can dispeople ye,  
can blow you and your cattle out o'th' Country:  
but fear me, and have favour. Come, go along with me,  
and I will hear your Songs, and perhaps like'em.  3. Sh. 
I hope you will, Sir.  Get. 
'Tis not a thing impossible.  
Perhaps I'll sing myself, the more to grace ye  
and if I like your women.  3. Sh. 
We'll have the best, Sir,  
handsome young Girls.  Get. 
The handsomer, the better. Enter Delphia.  
'May bring your wives too, 'twill be all one charge to ye;  
for I must know your Families.  Del. 
'Tis well said,  
'tis well said, honest friends; I know ye are hatching  
some pleasurable sports for your great Landlord:  
fill him with joy, and win him a friend to ye,  
and make this little Grange seem a large Empire,  
let out with home-contents: I'll work his favour,  
which daily shall be on ye.  3. Sh. 
Then we'll sing daily,  
and make him the best Sports.  Del. 
Instruct 'em Geta,  
and be a merry man again.  Get. 
Will ye lend me a devil,  
that we may dance a while?  Del. 
I'll lend thee two.  
and Bagpipes that shall blow alone.  Get. 
I thank ye:  
but I'll know your devils of a cooler complexion first.  
Come, follow, follow; I'll go sit and see ye. Exeunt.  Enter Diocles, and Drusilla. Dell. 
Do; and be ready an hour hence, and bring 'em;  
for in the Grove you'll find him.  Dio. 
Come Drusilla,  
the partner of my best contents: I hope now  
you dare believe me.  Dru. 
Yes, and dare say to ye,  
I think ye now most happy.  Dio. 
You say true (Sweet)  
for by my—, I find now by experience,  
Content was never Courtier.  Dru. 
I pray ye walk on, Sir;  
the cool shades of the Grove invite ye.  Dio. 
O my Dearest!  
When man has cast off his ambitious Greatness,  
and sunk into the sweetness of himself;  
built his foundation upon honest thoughts,  
not great, but good Desires his daily servants;  
how quietly he sleeps! how joyfully  
he wakes again, and looks on his possessions,  
and from his willing labours feeds with pleasure?  
Here hangs no Comets in the shapes of Crowns,  
to shake our sweet contents: nor here, Drusilla,  
Cares, like Eclipses, darken our endeavours:  
we love here without rivals, kiss with innocence;  
our thoughts as gentle as our lips; our children  
the double heirs both of our forms and faiths.  Dru. 
I am glad ye make this right use of this sweetness,  
this sweet retiredness.  Dio. 
'T is sweet indeed (love)  
and every circumstance about it, shows it.  
How liberal is the spring in every place here?  
the artificial Court shows but a shadow,  
a painted imitation of this glory.  
Smell to this flower, here Nature has her excellence:  
let all the perfumes of the Empire pass this,  
the carefullest lady's cheek show such a colour,  
they are gilded and adulterate vanities.  
And here in Poverty dwells noble Nature.  
What pains we take to cool our wines, to allay us,  Music below. 
and bury quick the fuming god to quench us,  
methinks this Crystal Well? Ha! what strange music?  
'tis underneath, sure: how it stirs and joys me?  
how all the birds set on? the fields redouble  
their odoriferous sweets? Hark how the echoes—  Enter a Spirit from the Well. Drus. 
See, Sir, those flowers  
from out the Well, spring to your entertainment.  Enter Delphia. Dio. 
Bless me.  Dru. 
Be not afraid, 't is some good Angel  
that's come to welcome ye.  Del. 
Go near and hear, son.  Song. Dio. 
O mother, thank ye, thank ye, this was your will.  Del. 
You shall not want delights to bless your presence.  
Now ye are honest, all the Stars shall honour ye.  Enter shepherds and dancers. 
Stay, here are country-shepherds; here is some sport too,  
and you must grace it, Sir; 't was meant to welcome ye;  
a King shall never feel your joy. Sit down, son.  A dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses; Pan leading the men, Ceres the maids. 
Hold, hold, my Messenger appears: leave off, friends,  
leave off a while, and breathe.  Dio. 
What news? ye are pale, mother.  Del. 
No, I am careful of thy safety (son)  
be not affrighted, but sit still; I am with thee.  Enter Maximinian, Aurelia, Soldiers. 
And now dance out your dance. Do you know that person.  
Be not amazed, but let him show his dreadfullest.  Max. 
How confident he sits amongst his pleasures,  
and what a cheerful colour shows in's face,  
and yet he sees me too, the Soldiers with me.  Aur. 
Be speedy in your work, (you will be stopped else)  
and than you are an Emperor.  Max. 
I will about it.  Dio. 
My Royal Cousin, how I joy to see ye,  
you, and your Royal Empress.  Max. 
You are too kind, Sir.  
I come not to eat with ye, and to surfeit  
in these poor Clownish pleasures; but to tell ye  
I look upon ye like my Winding-sheet,  
the Coffin of my Greatness, my, my Grave:  
for whilst you are alive—  Dio. 
Alive, my Cousin?  Max. 
I say, Alive. I am no Emperor;  
I am nothing but mine own disquiet.  Dio. 
Stay, Sir.  Max. 
I cannot stay. The Soldiers  upon ye.  
I would fain spure ye; but mine own security  
compels me to forget you are my Uncle,  
compels me to forget you made me Caesar:  
for whilst you are remembered, I am buried.  Dio. 
Did not I make ye Emperor, dear Cousin,  
the free gift from my special grace?  Del. 
Fear nothing.  Dio. 
Did not I choose this poverty, to raise you?  
that Royal woman gave into your arms too?  
blessed ye with her bright beauty? gave the soldier,  
the soldier that hung to me, fixed him on ye?  
gave ye the world's command?  Max. 
This cannot help ye.  Dio. 
Yet this shall ease me. Can ye be so base (Cousin)  
so far from Nobleness, so far from nature,  
as to forget all this? to tread this Tie out?  
raise to yourself so soul a monument  
that every common foot shall kick asunder?  
must my blood glue ye to your peace?  Max. 
It must, Uncle;  
I stand too loose else, and my foot too feeble:  
you gone once, and their love retired, I am rooted.  Dio. 
And cannot this removed poor state obscure me?  
I do not seek for yours, nor inquire ambitiously  
after your growing Fortunes. Take heed, my kinsman,  
ungratefulness and blood mingled together,  
will, like two furious Tides—  Max. 
I must sail thorough 'em:  
let 'em be Tides of death, Sir, I must stem up.  Dio. 
Hear but this last, and wisely yet consider:  
Place round about my Grange a Garrison,  
that if I offer to exceed my limits,  
or ever in my common talk name Emperor,  
ever converse with any greedy soldier,  
or look for adoration, nay, for courtesy  
above the days salute.— Think who has fed ye,  
think (Cousin) who I am. Do ye slight my misery?  
Nay, than I charge thee; nay, I meet thy cruelty.  Max. 
This cannot serve; prepare: Now fall on, soldiers,  
and all the treasure that I have.  Thunder and Lightning. Sould. 
The earth shakes;  
we totter up and down; we cannot stand, Sir;  
methinks the mountains tremble too.  2 Sould. 
The flashes  
how thick and hot they come? we shall be burned all.  Del. 
Fall on, Soldiers:  
you that sell innocent blood, fall on full bravely.  Sould. 
We cannot stir.  Del. 
You have your liberty,  
so have you, Lady. One of you come do it.  A hand with a Bolt appears above. 
Do you stand amazed? Look o'er thy head, Maximinian,  
look, to thy terror, what overhangs thee:  
nay, it will nail thee dead; look how it threatens thee:  
the Bolt for vengeance on ungrateful wretches;  
the Bolt of innocent blood: read those hot characters,  
and spell the will of heaven. Nay, lovely Lady,  
you must take part too, as spur to ambition.  
Are ye humble? Now speak; my part's ended.  
Does all your glory shake?  Max. 
Hear us, great Uncle,  
good and great Sir, be pitiful unto us:  
below your feet we lay our lives: be merciful:  
begin you, heaven will follow.  Aur. 
Oh, it shakes still.  Max. 
And dreadfully it threatens. We acknowledge  
our base and foul intentions. Stand between us;  
for faults confessed, they say, are half forgiven.  
We are sorry for our sins. Take from us, Sir,  
that glorious weight that made us swell, that poisoned us;  
that mass of Majesty I laboured under,  
(too heavy and too mighty for my manage)  
that my poor innocent days may turn again,  
and my mind, pure, may purge me of these curses;  
by your old love, the blood that runs between us.  The hand taken in. Aur. 
By that love once ye bore to me, by that Sir,  
that blessed maid enjoys—  Dio. 
Rise up, dear Cousin,  
and be your words your judges: I forgive ye:  
great as ye are, enjoy that greatness ever,  
whilst I mine own Content make mine own Empire.  
Once more I give ye all; learn to deserve it,  
and live to love your Good more than your Greatness.  
Now show your loves to entertain this Emperor,  
my honest neighbours. Geta, see all handsome.  
Your Grace must pardon us, our house is little;  
but such an ample welcome as a poor man  
and his true love can make you and your Empress.  
Madam, we have no dainties.  Aur. 
'Tis enough, Sir;  
we shall enjoy the riches of your goodness.  Sould. 
Long live the good and gracious Dioclesian.  Dio. 
I thank ye, Soldiers, I forgive your rashness.  
And Royal Sir, long may they love and honour ye.  Drums march afar off. 
What Drums are those?  Del. 
Meet 'em, my honest son,  
they are thy friends, Charinus and the old Soldiers  
that come to rescue thee from thy hot Cousin.  
But all is well, and turn all into welcomes:  
two Emperors you must entertain now.  Dio. 
O dear mother,  
I have will enough, but I want room and glory.  Del. 
That shall be my care. Sound your pipes now merrily,  
and all your handsome sports. Sing 'em full welcomes.  Dio. 
And let 'em know, our true love breeds more stories  
and perfect joys, than Kings do, and their glories.  Exeunt.   
FINIS.