THE tragedy OF VALENTINIAN.  

Actus primus.  

Scaena prima.  Enter Balbus, Proculus, Chilax, Licinius. Bal. 
I Never saw the like, she's no more stirred,  
No more another woman, no more altered,  
With any hopes or promises laid to her  
(Let 'em be ne'er so weighty, ne'er so winning,  
Than I am with the motion of my own legs.  Pro. 
Chilax.  
You are a stranger yet in these designs,  
At least in Rome; tell me, and tell me truth,  
Did you ere know in all your course of practice,  
In all the ways of woman you have run through  
(For I presume you have been brought up Chilax,  
As we to fetch and carry.)  Chi. 
True I have so:  Pro. 
Did you I say again in all this progress,  
Ever discover such a piece of beauty,  
Ever so rare a Creature, and no doubt  
One that must know her worth too, and affect it,  
I and be flattered, else 'tis none: and honest?  
Honest against the tide of all temptations,  
Honest to one man, to her husband only,  
And yet not eighteen, not of age to know  
Why she is honest?  Chi. 
I confess it freely,  
I never saw her fellow, nor e'er shall,  
For all our Grecian Dames, all I have tried,  
(And sure I have tried a hundred, if I say two  
I speak within my compass) all these beauties,  
And all the constancy of all these faces,  
Maids, Widows, Wives, of what degree or calling,  
So they be Greeks, and fat, for there's my cunning,  
I would undertake and not sweat for't, Proculus,  
Were they to try again, say twice as many,  
Under a thousand pound, to lay 'em bedrid;  
But this Wench staggers me.  Lyc. 
Do you see these jewels?  
You would think these pretty baits; now I'll assure ye  
Here's half the wealth of Asia.  Bal. 
These are nothing  
To the full honours I propounded to her;  
I bid her think, and be, and presently  
whatever her ambition, what the Council  
Of others would add to her, what her dreams  
Could more enlarge, what any precedent  
Of any woman rising up to glory,  
And standing certain there, and in the highest,  
Could give her more, nay to be Empress.  Pro. 
And cold at all these offers?  Bal. 
Cold as Crystal,  
Never to be thawed again,  Chi. 
I tried her further,  
And so far, that I think she is no woman,  
At least as women go now.  Lyc. 
Why what did you?  Chi. 
I offered that, that had she been but Mistress  
Of as much spleen as Doves have, I had reached her  
A safe revenge of all that ever hates her,  
The crying down for ever all beauties  
That may be thought come near her.  Pro. 
That was pretty.  Chi. 
I never knew that way fail, yet I'll tell ye  
I offered her a gift beyond all yours,  
That, that had made a Saint start, well considered,  
The Law to be her creature, she to make it,  
Her mouth to give it, every creature living  
From her aspect, to draw their good or evil  
Fixed in'em spite of Fortune; a new Nature  
She should be called, and mother of all ages,  
Time should be hers, and what she did lame virtue  
Should bless to all posterities: her air  
Should give us life, her earth and water feed us.  
And last, to none but to the Emperor,  
(And then but when she pleased to have it so,)  
She should be held for mortal.  Lyc. 
And she heard you?  Chi. 
Yes, as a Sick man hears a noise, or he  
That stands condemned his judgement, let me perish,  
But if there can be virtue, if that name  
Be any thing but name and empty title,  
If it be so as fools have been pleased to saigne it,  
A power that can preserve us after ashes,  
And make the names of men out-reckon ages,  
This Woman has a God of virtue in her.  Bal. 
I would the Emperor were that God.  Chi. 
She has in her  
All the contempt of glory and vain seeming  
Of all the Stoics, all the truth of Christians,  
And all their Constancy: Modesty was made  
When she was first intended: When she blushes  
It is the holiest thing to look upon;  
The purest temple of her sect, that ever  
Made nature a blessed Founder.  Pro. 
Is there no way  
To take this Phoenix?  Lyc. 
None but in her ashes.  Chi. 
If she were fat, or any way inclining  
To ease or pleasure, or effected glory,  
Proud to be seen and worshipped, 'twere a venture;  
But on my soul she is chaster than cold Camphire.  Bal. 
I think so too; for all the ways of woman,  
Like a full sail she bears against: I ask her  
After my many offers, walking with her,  
And her as many down-denials, how  
If the Emperor grown mad with love should force her;  
She pointed to a Lucrece, that hung by,  
And with an angry look, that from her eyes  
Shot Vestal fire against me, she departed.  Bro. 
This is the first wench I was ever posed in,  
Yet I have brought young loving things together  
This two and thirty year.  Chi. 
I find by this wench  
The calling of a Bawd to be a strange,  
A wise, and subtle calling; and for none  
But stayed, discreet, and understanding people:  
And as the Tutor to great Alexander,  
Would say a young man should not dare to read  
His moral books, till after five and twenty;  
So must that he or she, that will be bawdy,  
(I mean discreetly bawdy, and be trusted)  
If they will rise, and gain experience,  
Well steeped in years, and discipline, begin it,  
I take it 'tis no boys play.  Bal. 
Well, what's thought off?  Pro. 
The Emperor must know it.  Lyc. 
If the women should chance to fail too,  Chi. 
As 'tis ten to one,  Pro. 
Why what remains, but new nets for the purchase?  Chi. 
Let's go consider then: and if all fail,  
This is the first quick Eel, that saved her tail. Exeunt.   

Scene 2.  Enter Lucina, Ardelia, and Phorba. Ardelia. 
You still insist upon that Idol, Honour,  
Can it renew your youth, can it add wealth,  
That takes off wrinkles: can it draw men's eyes,  
To gaze upon you in your age? can honour,  
That truly is a Saint to none but Soldiers,  
And looked into, bear no reward but danger,  
Leave you the most respected person living?  
Or can the common kisses of a husband,  
(Which to a sprightly Lady is a labour)  
Make ye almost Immortal? ye are cozened,  
The honour of a woman is her praises;  
The way to get these, to be seen, and sought too,  
And not to bury such a happy sweetness  
Under a smoky roof.  Luci. 
I'll hear no more:  Phor. 
That white, and red, and all that blessed beauty,  
Kept from the eyes, that make it so, is nothing;  
Than you are rarely fair, when men proclaim it;  
The Phoenix, were she never seen, were doubted,  
That most unvalued Horn the Unicorn  
Bears to oppose the Huntsman, were it nothing  
But tale, and mere tradition, would help no man,  
But when the virtue's known, the honour's doubled:  
Virtue, is either lame, or not at all,  
And Love a sacrilege, and not a Saint,  
When it bars up the way to men's Petitions.  Ard. 
Nay ye shall love your husband too; we come not  
To make a Monster of ye;  Luc. 
Are ye women?  Ard. 
You'll find us so, and women you shall think too,  
If you have grace to make your use.  Luc. 
Eye on ye,  Phor. 
Alas poor bashful Lady, by my soul,  
Had ye no other virtue, but your blushes,  
And I a man, I should run mad for those;  
How daintily they set her off, how sweetly?  Ard. 
Come Goddess, come, you move too near the earth,  
It must not be, a better orb stays for you:  
Here: be a maid, and taken,  Luc. 
Pray leave me.  Phor. 
That were a sin sweet Lady, and a way  
To make us guilty of your melancholy;  
You must not be alone; In conversation  
Doubts are resolved, and what sticks near the conscience  
Made easy, and allowable.  Luc. 
Ye are Devils,  Ard. 
That you may one day bless for your damnation.  Luc. 
I charge ye in the name of Chastity,  
Tempt me no more; how ugly ye seem to me?  
There is no wonder men defame our Sex,  
And lay the vices of all ages on us,  
When such as you shall bear the names of women;  
If ye had eyes to see yourselves, or sense  
Above the base rewards ye play the bawds for:  
If ever in your lives ye heard of goodness,  
(Though many Regions off, as men hear thunder)  
If ever ye had Mothers, and they souls:  
If ever Fathers, and not such as you are;  
If ever any thing were constant in you,  
Beside your sins, or coming but your curses,  
If ever any of your Ancestors  
Died worth a noble deed, that would be cherished,  
Soul-frighted with this black infection,  
You would run from one another, to repentance,  
And from your guilty eyes drop out those sins,  
That made ye blind, and beasts.  Phor. 
Ye speak well Lady;  
A sign of fruitful education,  
If your religious Zeal had wisdom with it.  Ard. 
This Lady was ordained to bless the Empire,  
And we may all give thanks for't.  Phor. 
I believe ye,  Ard. 
If any thing redeem the Emperor,  
From his wild flying courses, this is she;  
She can instruct him if ye mark; she is wise too.  Phor. 
Exceeding wise, which is a wonder in her,  
And so religious, that I well believe,  
Though she would sin she cannot.  Ard. 
And, besides  
She has the empire's cause in hand, not loves;  
There lies the main consideration,  
For which she is chiefly borne.  Phor. 
She finds that point  
Stronger than we can tell her, and believe it  
I look by her means for a reformation,  
And such a one, and such a rare way carried  
That all the world shall wonder at.  Ard. 
'tis true;  
I never thought the Emperor had wisdom,  
Pity, or fair affection to his Country,  
Till he professed this love: gods give'em Children,  
Such as her virtue's merit, and his zeal.  
I look to see a Numa from this Lady,  
Or greater than Octavius.  Phor. 
Do you mark too,  
Which is a Noble virtue, how she blushes,  
And what a flowing modesty runs through her,  
When we but name the Emperor?  Ard. 
But mark it,  
Yes, and admire it too, for she considers,  
Though she be fair as heaven, and virtuous  
As holy truth, yet to the Emperor  
She is a kind of nothing but her service,  
Which she is bound to offer, and she'll do it,  
And when her country's cause commands affection;  
She knows obedience is the key of virtues,  
Then fly the blushes out like Cupid's arrows,  
And though the tie of marriage to her Lord,  
Would fain cry stay Lucina, yet the cause  
And general wisdom of the PRINCE's love,  
Makes her find surer ends and happier,  
And if the first were chaste, this is twice doubled.  Phor. 
Her tartness unto us too.  Ard. 
That's a wise one.  Phor. 
I rarely like, it shows a rising wisdom,  
That chides all common fools as dare inquire  
What Princes would have private.  Ard. 
What a Lady  
Shall we be blessed to serve?  Luc. 
Go get ye from me.  
Ye are your purses Agents, not the Princes:  
Is this the virtuous Lore ye trained me out too?  
Am I a woman fit to imp your vices?  
But that I had a Mother, and a woman  
Whose ever living fame turns all it touches,  
Into the good itself is, I should now  
Even doubt myself, I have been searched so near  
The very soul of honour: why should you two,  
That happily have been as chaste as I am,  
Fairer, I think, by much, for yet your faces,  
Like ancient well built piles, show worthy ruins,  
After that Angel age, turn mortal Devils?  
For shame, for womanhood, for what ye have been,  
For rotten Cedars have borne goodly branches,  
If ye have hope of any Heaven, but Court,  
Which like a Dream, you'll find hereafter vanish,  
Or at the best but subject to repentance,  
Study no more to be ill spoken of;  
Let women live themselves, if they must fall,  
Their own destruction find 'em, not your sevours.  Ard. 
Madam, ye are so excellent in all,  
And I must tell it you with admiration,  
So true a joy ye have, so sweet a fear,  
And when ye come to anger, 'tis so noble,  
That for mine own part, I could still offend,  
To hear you angry; women that want that,  
And your way guided (else I count it nothing)  
Are either Fools, or Cowards.  Phor. 
She were a Mistress for no private greatness,  
Could she not frown a ravished kiss from anger,  
And such an anger as this Lady learns us,  
Stuck with such pleasing dangers. Gods (I ask ye)  
Which of ye all could hold from?  Luc. 
I perceive ye,  
Your own dark sins dwell with ye, and that price  
You sell the chastity of modest wives at  
Runs to diseases with your bones: I scorn ye,  
And all the nets ye have pitched to catch my virtues  
Like Spiders Webs, I sweep away before me.  
Go tell the Emperor, ye have met a woman,  
That neither his own person, which is Godlike,  
The world he rules, nor what that world can purchase,  
Nor all the glories, subject to a Cesar,  
The honours that he offers for my body,  
The hopes, gifts, everlasting flatteries,  
Nor any thing that's his, and apt to tempt me,  
No not to be the Mother of the Empire,  
And Queen of all the holy fires he worships,  
Can make a Whore of.  Ard. 
You mistake us Lady.  Luc. 
Yet tell him this has thus much weakened me,  
That I have here his knaves, and you his Matrons,  
Fit Nurses for his sins, which gods forgive me,  
But ever to be leaning to his folly,  
Or to be brought to love his lust, assure him,  
And from her mouth, whose life shall make it certain  
I never can: I have a Noble husband,  
Pray tell him that too, yet a noble name,  
A Noble Family, and last a Conscience:  
Thus much for your answer: For yourselves,  
Ye have lived the shame of women, die the better, Exit  Phor. 
What's now to do? Lucina.  Ard. 
e'en as she said, to die,  
For there's no living here, and women thus,  
I am sure for us two.  Phor. 
Nothing stick upon her?  Ard. 
We have lost a mass of money; well Dame virtue,  
Yet ye may halt if good luck serve.  Phor. 
Worms take her,  
She has almost spoiled our trade.  Ard. 
So godly;  
This is ill breeding Phorba.  Phor. 
If the women  
Should have a longing now to see this Monster,  
And she convert 'em all,  Ard. 
That may be Phorba,  
But if it be, I'll have the young men gelded:  
Come, let's go think, she must not scape us thus;  
There is a certain season, if we hit,  
That women may be rid without a bit. Exeunt.   

Scaen. 3.  Enter Maximus and Aecius. Max. 
I cannot blame the Nations noble friend,  
That they fall off so fast from this wild man,  
When (under our Allegiance be it spoken,  
And the most happy tie of our affections)  
The world's weight groans beneath him; where lives virtue,  
Honour, discretion, wisdom? who are called  
And chosen to the steering of the Empire  
But Bawds, and singing Girls? o my Aecius,  
The glory or a Soldier, and the truth  
Of men made up for goodness sake, like shells  
Grow to the ragged walls for want of action:  
Only your happy self, and I that love ye,  
Which is a larger means to me then favour.  Aecius 
No more my worthy friend, though these be truths,  
And though these truth's would ask a Reformation,  
At least a little squaring; yet remember,  
We are but subjects Maximus; obedience  
To what is done, and grief for what is ill done,  
Is all we can call ours: the hearts of Princes  
Are like the Temples of the gods; pure incense,  
Until unhallowed hands defile those offerings,  
Burns ever there; we must not put 'em out,  
Because the Priests that touch those sweets are wicked;  
We dare not dearest friend, nay more we cannot,  
While we consider why we are, and how,  
To what laws bound, much more to what Lawgiver;  
Whilst majesty is made to be obeyed,  
And not inquired into, whilst Gods and Angels  
Make but a rule as we do, though a stricter;  
Like desperate and unseasoned fools let fly  
Our killing angers, and forsake our honours.  Max. 
My noble Friend, from whose Instructions  
I never yet took surfeit, weigh but thus much,  
Nor think I speak it with ambition,  
For by the Gods I do not, why Aecius,  
Why are we thus, or how become thus wretched?  Aecius. 
You'll fall again into your fit.  Max. 
I will not.  
Or are we now no more the sons of Romans,  
No more the followers of their happy fortunes,  
But conquered Gaules, or Quivers for the Parthians?  
Why is this Emperor, this man we honour,  
This God that ought to be?  Aecius. 
You are too curious.  Max. 
Good, give me leave, why is this Author of us?  Aeci. 
I dare not hear ye speak thus.  Max. 
I'll be modest,  
Thus led away, thus vainly led away,  
And we beholders, misconceive me not,  
I sow no danger in my words; but wherefore  
And to what end, are we the sons of Fathers  
Famous, and fast to Rome? Why are their virtues  
Stamped in the dangers of a thousand Battles,  
For goodness sake, their honours, time out daring,  
I think for our example.  Aeci. 
Ye speak nobly.  Mac. 
Why are we seeds of these then, to shake hands  
With Bawds and base Informers, kiss discredit,  
And court her like a Mistress? pray, your leave yet;  
You'll say the Emperor is young, and apt  
To take impression rather from his pleasures  
Then any constant worthiness, it may be.  
But why do these, the people call his pleasures,  
Exceed the moderation of a man?  
Nay to say justly friend, why are they vices  
And such as shake our worths with foreign Nations?  Aec. 
You search the sore too deep, and I must tell ye,  
In any other man this had been boldness,  
And so rewarded; pray depress you spirit,  
For though I constantly believe ye honest,  
Ye were no friend for me else, and what now  
Ye freely spoke, but good ye owe tooth Empire,  
Yet take heed worthy Maximus, all ears  
Hear not with that distinction mine do, few  
You'll find admonishers, but urgers of your actions,  
And to the heaviest (friend;) and pray consider  
We are but shadows, motions others give us,  
And though our pities may become the times,  
justly our powers cannot; make me worthy  
To be your ever friend in fair allegiance,  
But not in force: For durst mine own soul urge me  
(And by that soul, I speak my just affections)  
To turn my hand from truth, which is obedience,  
And give the helm my virtue holds, to Anger,  
Though I had both the blessings of the Brutij,  
And both their Instigations, though my cause  
Carried a face of justice beyond theirs,  
And as I am a servant to my fortunes,  
That daring soul, that first taught disobedience,  
Should feel the first example: Say the Prince,  
As I may well believe, seems vicious,  
Who justly knows 'tis not to try our honours?  
Or say he be an ill Prince, are we therefore  
Fit fires to purge him? No, my dearest friend  
The Elephant is never won with anger,  
Nor must that man that would reclaim a Lion,  
Take him byth' teeth.  Max. 
I pray mistake me not.  Aeci. 
Our honest actions, and the light that breaks  
Like morning from our service, chaste and blushing  
Is that, that pulls a Prince back; then he sees,  
And not till then truly repents his errors,  
When subjects' Crystal souls are glasses to him.  Max. 
My ever honoured friend, I'll take your council:  
The Emperor appears, I'll leave ye to him,  
And as we both affect him, may he flourish. Exit Max.  Empe. 
Is that the best news? Enter the Emperor and Chilax.  Chil. 
Yet the best we know Sir.  Empe. 
Bid Maximus come to me, and be gone then:  
Mine own head be my helper, these are fools;  
How now Aecius, are the Soldiers quiet?  Aeci. 
Better I hope Sir, than they were.  Empe. 
They are pleased I hear,  
To censure me extremely for my pleasures,  
Shortly they'll fight against me.  Aeci. 
Gods defend Sir.  
And for their censures they are such shrewd judgers;  
A donative of ten Sesterties  
I'll undertake shall make 'em ring your praises,  
More than they sang your pleasures.  Empe. 
I believe thee.  
Art thou in love Aecius yet?  Aeci. 
O no Sir.  
I am too course for Ladies; my embraces  
That only am acquainted with Alarms,  
Would break their tender bodies.  Empe. 
Never fear it,  
They are stronger than ye think, they'll hold the hammer  
My Empress swears thou art a lusty Soldier,  
A good one I believe thee.  Aeci. 
All that goodness  
Is but your grace's creature.  Empe. 
Tell me truly,  
For thou dar'st tell me.  Aeci. 
Any thing concerns ye,  
That's fit for me to speak and you to pardon.  Emp. 
What say the soldiers of me, and the same words,  
Mince 'em not good Aecius, but deliver  
The very forms and tongues they talk withal,  Aeci. 
I'll tell your Grace, but with this caution  
You be not stirred, for should the Gods live with us,  
Even those we certainly believe are righteous.  
Give 'em but drink, they would censure them too.  Empe. 
Forward.  Aeci. 
Then to begin, they say you sleep too much  
By which they judge your Majesty too sensual,  
Apt to decline your strength to ease and pleasures,  
And when you do not sleep, you drink too much,  
From which they fear suspicions first, than ruins;  
And when ye neither drink nor sleep, ye wench much,  
Which they affirm first breaks your understanding,  
Then takes the edge of honour, make us seem,  
That are the ribs, and rampires of the Empire,  
Fencers, and beaten Fools, and so regarded;  
But I believe 'em not; for were these truths,  
Your virtue can correct them.  Empe. 
They speak plainly.  Aec. 
They say moreover (since your grace will have it,  
For they will talk their freedoms, though the sword  
Were in their throat) that of late time, like Nero,  
And with the same forgetfulness of glory,  
You have got a vain of filing, so they term it.  Empe. 
Some drunken dreams Aecius.  Aeci. 
So I hope Sir.  
And that you rather study cruelty,  
And to be feared for blood, then loved for bounty.  
Which makes the Nations, as they say, despise ye,  
Telling your years and actions by their deaths,  
Whose truth, and strength of duty made you Caesar.  
They say besides you nourish strange devourers,  
Fed with the fat o'th' Empires, they call Bawds,  
Lazy and lustful creatures that abuse ye,  
A people as they term 'em, made of paper,  
In which the secret sins of each man's moneys  
Are sealed and sent a working.  Empe. 
What sin's next?  
For I perceive they have no mind to spare me.  Aeci. 
Nor hurt ye o my soul Sir; but such people  
(Nor can the power of man restrain it)  
When they are full of meat and ease, must prattle.  Empe. 
Forward.  Aeci. 
I have spoken too much Sir.  Empe. 
I'll have all.  Aeci. 
It fits not  
Your ears should hear their vanities; no profit  
Can justly rise to you from their behaviour,  
Unless ye were guilty of those crimes.  Empe. 
It may be  
I am so, therefore forward.  Aeci 
I have ever  
learned to obey, nor shall my life resist it.  Empe. 
No more Apologies.  Aeci. 
They grieve besides Sir,  
To see the nations, whom our ancient virtue  
With many a weary march and hunger conquered,  
With loss of many a daring life subdued,  
Fall from their fair obedience, and even murmur  
To see the warlike Eagles mew their honours  
In obscure Towns, that wont to prey on Princes,  
They cry for enemies, and tell the Captains  
The fruits of Italy are luscious, give us Egypt,  
Or sandy Afrique to display our valours,  
There where our Swords may make us meat, and danger  
Digest our well got viands: here our weapons  
And bodies that were made for shining brass,  
Are both unedged and old with ease, and women;  
And than they cry again, where are the Germans,  
Lined with hot Spain, or Gallia, bring 'em on,  
And let the son of war, steeled Mithridates,  
Lead up his winged Parthians like a storm,  
Hiding the face of Heaven with showers of arrows;  
Yet we dare fight like Romans; then as Soldiers  
tired with a weary march, they tell their wounds  
Even weeping ripe they were no more nor deeper,  
And glory in those scars that make 'em lovely,  
And sitting where a Camp was, like sad Pilgrims  
They reckon up the times, and living labours  
Of Julius or Germanicus, and wonder  
That Rome, whose turrets once were topped with honours,  
Can now forget the Custom of her conquests:  
And then they blame your Grace, and say who leads us,  
Shall we stand here like Statues? were our Fathers  
The Sons of lazy moors, our Princes Persians,  
Nothing but silks, and softness? curses on 'em  
That first taught Nero wantonness, and blood,  
Tiberius' doubts, Caligula all vices;  
For from the spring of these succeeding Princes  
Thus they talk Sir;  Emp. 
Well,  
Why do you hear these things?  Aec. 
Why do you do 'em?  
I take the gods to witness, with more sorrow,  
And more vexation, do I hear these taintures,  
Then were my life dropped from me through an hourglass  Emp. 
Belike than you believe 'em, or at least  
Are glad they should be so; take heed, you were better  
Build your own Tomb, and run into it living,  
Then dare a PRINCE's anger.  Aec. 
I am old Sir,  
And ten years more addition, is but nothing:  
Now if my life be pleasing to ye, take it,  
Upon my knees, if ever any service,  
As let me brag, some have been worthy notice,  
If ever any worth, or trust ye gave me,  
Deserved a fair respect, if all my actions,  
The hazards of my youth, colds, burnings, wants,  
For you and for the Empire, be not vices,  
By that style ye have stamped upon me, Soldier,  
Let me not fall into the hands of wretches.  Emp. 
I understand ye not.  Aec. 
Let not this body,  
That has looked bravely in his blood for Cesar,  
And covetous of wounds, and for your safety,  
After the scape of Swords, Spears, Slings, and Arrows,  
'gainst which my beaten body was mine Armour,  
The Seas, and thirsty deserts, now be purchase  
For Slaves, and base Informers: I see anger,  
And death look through your eyes: I am marked for slaughter  
And know the telling of this truth has made me  
A man clean lost to this world; I embrace it;  
Only my last Petition sacred Cesar,  
Is, I may die a Roman.  Emp. 
Rise my friend still,  
And worthy of my love; Reclaim the Soldier,  
I'll study to do so upon myself too,  
Go keep your command, and prosper.  Aec. 
Life to Cesar — Exit Aecius— Enter Chilax.  Chi. 
Lord Maximus attends your Grace.  Emp. 
Go tell him,  
I'll meet him in the gallery.  
The honesty of this Aecius  
Who is indeed the Bulwark of the Empire,  
Has dived so deep into me, that of all  
The sins I covet, but this woman's beauty,  
With much repentance, now I could be quit of:  
But she is such a pleasure, being good,  
That though I were a god, she would fire my blood. Exit    

Actus Secundus.  

Scaena prima.  Enter the Emperor, Maximus, Lycinius, Proculus, Chilax, as at Dice. Emp. 
NAY ye shall set my hand out, 'tis not just  
I should neglect my fortune, now 'tis prosperous.  Lyc. 
If I have any thing to set your Grace,  
But Clothes or good conditions, let me perish,  
You have all my money Sir;  Pro. 
And mine,  Chi. 
And mine too.  Max. 
Unless your Grace will credit us,  Emp. 
No bare board,  Lyc. 
Then at my Garden-House;  Emp. 
The Orchard too.  Lyc. 
an't please your Grace,  Emp. 
Have at 'em,  Pro. 
They are lost;  Lyc. 
Why farewell Figtrees,  Emp. 
Who sets more?  Chil. 
At my Horse Sir,  Emp. 
The dappled Spaniard?  Chil. 
He.  Emp. 
He's mine,  Chil. 
He is so;  Max. 
Your shorthorse is soon curried:  Chil. 
So it seems Sir,  
So may your Mare be too, if luck serve.  Max. 
Ha?  Ch. 
Nothing my Lord but grieving at my fortune,  Emp. 
Come Maximus, you were not wont to flinch thus  Max. 
By Heaven Sir, I have lost all.  Emp. 
there's a ring yet,  Max. 
This was not made to lose Sir,  Emp. 
Some love token;  
Set it I say;  Max. 
I do beseech your Grace,  
Rather name any house I have.  Emp. 
How strange,  
And curious you are grown of toys? redeem't  
If so I win it, when you please, tomorrow,  
Or next day as ye will, I care not,  
But only for my luck's sake: 'tis not Rings  
Can make me richer.  Max. 
Will you throw Sir? there 'tis:  Emp. 
Why then have at it fairly: mine.  Max. 
Your Grace  
Is only ever fortunate: tomorrow,  
An't be your pleasure Sir, I'll pay the price on't;  Emp. 
Tomorrow you shall have it without price Sir,  
But this day 'tis my victory: good Maximus,  
Now I bethink myself, go to Aecius,  
And bid him muster all the Cohorts presently;  
They mutiny for pay I hear, and be you  
Assistant to him; when you know their numbers,  
Ye shall have moneys for 'em, and above  
Something to stop their tongues withal.  Max. 
I will Sir,  
And gods preserve you in this mind still.  Emp. 
Shortly I'll see 'em march myself.  Max. 
God's ever keep ye. — Exit Max.  Emp. 
To what end do you think this ring shall serve now?  
For you are fellows only know by rote,  
As birds record their lessons.  Chil. 
For the Lady,  Emp. 
But how for her?  Chil. 
That I confess I know not,  Emp. 
Then pray for him that does: fetch me an Eunuch  
That never saw her yet: and you two see. Exit. Chil.  
The Court made like a Paradise.  Lyc. 
We will Sir.  Emp. 
Full of fair shows and musics; all your arts  
(As I shall give instructions) screw toth' highest,  
For my main piece is now adoing: and for fear  
You should not take, I'll have another engine,  
Such as if virtue be not only in her,  
She shall not choose but lean to, let the women  
Put on a graver show of welcome.  Pro. 
Well Sir.  Emp. 
They are a thought too eager.— Enter Chilax and Lycias the Eunuch.  Chil. 
Here's the Eunuch,  Eun. 
Long life to Cesar.  Emp. 
I must use you Lycias:  
Come let's walk in, and then I'll show ye all:  
If women may be frail, this wench shall fall. Exeunt.   

Scene 2.  Enter Claudia, and Marcellina. Claudia. 
Sirrah, what ails my Lady, that of late  
She never cares for company?  Mar. 
I know not,  
Unless it be that company causes Cuckolds.  Clau. 
That were a childish fear;  Mar. 
What were those Ladies,  
Came to her lately,  
From the Court?  Clau. 
The same wench.  
Some grave Instructors on my life, they look  
For all the world like old hatched hilts.  Mar. 
'tis true wench.  
For here and there, and yet they painted well too,  
One might discover where the gold was worn  
Their Iron ages.  Clau. 
If my judgement fail not,  
They have been sheathed like rotten ships,  Mar. 
It may be.  Clau. 
For if ye mark their rudders, they hang weakly.  Mar. 
They have passed the line belike: wouldst live Clau  
Till thou wert such as they are?  Clau. 
Chimney pieces.  
Now heaven have mercy on me, and young men,  
I had rather make a drallery till thirty,  
While I were able to endure a tempest,  
And bear my fights out bravely, till my tackle.  
Whistled i'th' wind, and held against all weathers,  
While I were able to bear with my tires  
And so discharge 'em, I would willingly  
Live Marcellina, not till barnacles  
Bred in my sides.  Mar. 
Thou art i'th' right wench.  
For who would live, whom pleasures had forsaken,  
To stand at mark, and cry a bow short signeur?  
Were there not men came hither too?  Clau. 
Brave fellows.  
I fear me Bawds of five i'th' pound.  Mar. 
How know you?  Clau. 
They gave me great lights to it.  Mar. 
Take heed Claudia.  Clau. 
Let them take heed, the spring comes on.  Mar. 
To me now,  
They seemed as noble visitants.  Clau. 
To me now  
Nothing less Marcellina, for I mark 'em,  
And by this honest light, for yet 'tis morning,  
Saving the reverence of their guilded doublets  
And Milan skins.  Mar. 
Thou art a strange wench Claudia.  Clau. 
Ye are deceived, they showed to me directly  
Court crabs that creep aside way for their living  
I know 'em by the breeches that they begged last,  Mar. 
Peace, my Lady comes; what may that be?  Clau. 
A Sumner Enter Lucina, and Lycias the Eunuch.  
That citys her to appear.  Mar. 
No more of that wench.  Eun. 
Madam, what answer to your Lord?  Luci. 
Pray tell him, I am subject to his will,  Eun. 
Why weep you Madam?  
Excellent Lady, there are none will hurt you.  Luci. 
I do beseech you tell me Sir.  Eun. 
What Lady?  Luci. 
Serve ye the Emperor?  Eun. 
I do.  Luci. 
In what place?  Eun. 
In's chamber Madam.  Luci. 
Do ye serve his will too?  Eun. 
In fair and just commands.  Luci. 
Are ye a Roman?  Eun. 
Yes noble Lady, and a Mantuan.  Luci. 
What office bore your parents?  Eun. 
One was Praetor.  Luci. 
Take heed then how you stain his reputation,  Eun. 
Why worthy Lady?  Luci. 
If ye know, I charge ye,  
Ought in this Message, but what honesty,  
The trust and fair obedience of a servant,  
May well deliver, yet take heed, and help me.  Eun. 
Madam, I am no Broker;  Claud. 
I'll be hanged then.  Eun. 
Nor base procurer of men's lusts; Your husband,  
Prayed me to do this office, I have done it,  
It rests in you to come, or no:  Luc. 
I will Sir;  Eun. 
If ye mistrust me, do not,  Luc. 
Ye appear so worthy,  
And to all my sense so honest,  
And this is such a certain sign ye have brought me,  
That I believe.  Eun. 
Why should I cozen you?  
Or were I bribed to do this villainy,  
Can money prosper, or the fool that takes it,  
When such a virtue falls?  Luc. 
Ye speak well Sir;  
Would all the rest that serve the Emperor,  
Had but your way.  Claud. 
And so they have ad unguem:  Luc. 
Pray tell my Lord, I have received his Token,  
And will not fail to meet him; yet good Sir, thus much  
Before you go, I do beseech ye too,  
As little notice as ye can, deliver  
Of my appearance there,  Eun. 
It shall be Madam,  
And so I wish you happiness.  Luc. 
I thank you. — Exeunt.   

Scaen. 2.  Enter Aecius pursuing Pontius the Captain, and Maximus following. Tumult & noise within. Max. 
Temper yourself Aecius,  Pon. 
Hold my Lord.  
I am a Roman, and a Soldier,  Max. 
Pray Sir;  Aeci. 
Thou art a lying Villain, and a Traitor;  
Give me myself, or by the Gods my friend  
You'll make me dangerous; how dar'st thou pluck  
The Soldiers to sedition, and I living,  
And so Rebellion in 'em, and even then  
When I am drawing out to action?  Pon. 
Hear me,  Max. 
Are ye a man?  Aeci. 
I am a true hearted Maximus,  
And if the Villain live, we are dishonoured.  Max. 
But hear him what he can say.  Aeci. 
That's the way,  
To pardon him; I am so easy natured,  
That if he speak but humbly I forgive him.  Pon. 
I do beseech ye Noble General,  Aeci. 
Has found the was already, give me room,  
One stroke, and if he scape me then has mercy;  Pon. 
I do not call ye Noble, that I fear ye,  
I never cared for death; if ye will kill me,  
Consider first for what, not what you can do;  
'tis true, I know ye for my General,  
And by that great Prerogative may kill:  
But do it justly then.  Aeci. 
He argues with me.  
By Heaven a made up Rebel.  Max. 
Pray consider,  
What certain grounds ye have for this.  Aeci. 
What grounds?  
Did I not take him preaching to the Soldiers  
How lazily they lived, and what dishonours  
It was to serve a Prince so full of woman.  
Those were his very words, friend;  Max. 
These, Aecius,  
Though they were rashly spoke, which was an error  
(A great one Pontius) yet from him that hungers  
For wars, and brave employment, might be pardoned.  
The heart, and harboured thoughts of ill, make Traitors,  
Not spleeny speeches.  Aeci. 
Why should you protect him?  
Go too, it shows not honest;  Max. 
Taint me not,  
For that shows worse Aecius: All your friendship  
And that pretended love ye lay upon me,  
Hold back my honesty, is like a favour  
You do your slave today, tomorrow hang him,  
Was I your bosom piece for this?  Aeci. 
The nature of my zeal, and for my Country,  
Makes me sometimes forgive myself; for know,  
Thou I most strive to be without my passions,  
I am no God: For you Sir, whose infection  
Has spread itself like poison through the Army,  
And cast a killing fog on fair Allegiance,  
First thank this Noble Gentleman, ye had died else.  
Next from your place, and honour of a Soldier,  
I here seclude you.  Pon. 
May I speak yet?  Max. 
Hear him:  Aeci. 
And while Aecius holds a reputation,  
At least command, ye bear no Arms for Rome Sir.  Pon. 
Against her I shall never: The condemnd man,  
Has yet that privilege to speak my Lord;  
Law were not equal else.  Max. 
Pray hear Aecius,  
For happily the fault he has committed,  
Though I believe it mighty, yet considered,  
If mercy may be thought upon, will prove  
Rather a hasty sin, then heinous.  Aec. 
Speak.  Pon. 
'tis true my Lord, ye took me tired with peace,  
My words, almost as ragged as my fortunes.  
'tis true I told the Soldier, whom we served,  
And then bewailed, we had an Emperor  
Led from us by the flourishes of Fencers;  
I blamed him too for women.  Aec. 
To the rest Sir;  Pon. 
And like enough I blessed him then as Soldiers  
Will do sometimes: 'tis true I told 'em too,  
We lay at home, to show our Country  
We durst go naked, durst want meat, and money,  
And when the Slave drinks Wine, we durst be thirsty:  
I told 'em this too, that the Trees and Roots  
Were our best paymasters; the Charity  
Of longing women, that had bought our bodies,  
Our beds, fires, Tailors, Nurses, Nay I told 'em,  
(For you shall hear the greatest sin, I said Sir)  
By that time there be wars again, our bodies  
Laden with scars, and aches, and ill lodgings,  
Heats, and perpetual ants, were fitter prayers,  
And certain graves, then cope the foe on crutches:  
'tis likely too, I counselled 'em to turn  
Their Warlike pikes to ploughshares, their sure Targets  
And Swords hatched with the blood of many Nations,  
To Spades, and pruning Knives, for those get money,  
Their warlike Eagles, into Daws, or Starlings,  
To give an Ave Cesar as he passes,  
And be rewarded with a thousand dragmas  
For thus we get but years and beets.  Aeci. 
What think you,  
Were these words to be spoken by a Captain,  
One that should give example?  Max. 
'Twas too much;  Pon. 
My Lord, I did not woo from the Empire,  
Nor bid'em turn their daring steel 'gainst Caesar,  
The Gods for ever hate me, if that motion  
Were part of me: Give me but employment, Sir;  
And way to live, and where you hold me vicious,  
Bred up in mutiny, my Sword shall tell ye,  
And if you please, that place I held, maintain it,  
'gainst the most daring foes of Rome, I am honest,  
A lover of my Country, one that holds  
His life no longer his, then kept for Caesar.  
Weigh not (I thus low on my knee beseech you)  
What my rude tongue discovered, 'twas my want,  
No other part of Pontius: you have seen me,  
And you my Lord, do something for my Country,  
And both beheld the wounds I gave and took,  
Not like a backward Traitor.  Aeci. 
All this language,  
Makes but against you Pontius, you are cast,  
And by mine honour, and my love to Caesar,  
By me shall never be restored; In my Camp  
I will not have a tongue, though to himself  
Dare talk but near sedition; as I govern,  
All shall obey, and when they want, their duty  
And ready service shall redress their needs,  
Not prating what they would be.  Pon. 
Thus I leave ye,  
Yet shall my prayers still, although my fortunes  
Must follow you no more, be still about ye,  
Gods give ye where ye fight the Victory,  
Ye cannot cast my wishes.  Aeci. 
Come my Lord,  
Now to the Field again:  Max. 
Alas poor Pontius. — Exeunt.   

Scaen. 4.  Enter Chilax at one door, Lycinius, and Balbus at another. Lyc. 
How now?  Chi. 
she's come,  Bal. 
Then I'll toth' Emperor. — Exit Balbus.  Chi. 
Do; Is the Music placed well?  Lyc. 
Excellent.  Chil. 
Lycinius, you and Proclus receive her,  
In the great Chamber at her, entrance,  
Let me alone; and do you hear Lycinius,  
Pray let the Ladies ply her further off.  
And with much more discretion: one word more,  Lyc. 
Well;  Chil. 
Are the jewels, and those ropes of Pearl,  
Laid in the way she passes? — Enter Emperor, Balbus and Proclus.  Lyc. 
Take no care man — Exeunt Lyc.  Emp. 
What is she come?  Chil. 
She is Sir; but 'twere best,  
Your Grace were seen last to her,  Emp. 
So I mean;  
Keep the Court empty Proculus,  Pro. 
'tis done Sir.  Emp. 
Be not too sudden to her.  Chil. 
Good your Grace,  
Retire and man yourself; let us alone,  
We are no children this way: do you hear Sir?  
'tis necessary that her waiting women  
Be cut off in the Lobby, by some Ladies,  
Theed break the business else.  Emp. 
'tis true, they shall.  Chil. 
Remember your place Proculus,  Pro. 
I warrant ye. — Exeunt Emperor, Balbus and Pro.  Enter Lucina, Claudia, and Marcellina. Chi. 
She enters: who are waiters there? the Emperor  
Calls for his Horse to air himself.  Luci. 
I am glad,  
I come so happily to take him absent,  
This takes away a little fear; I know him,  
Now I begin to fear again: Oh honour,  
If ever thou hadst temple in weak woman.  
And sacrifice of modesty burnt to thee,  
Hold me fast now, and help me;  Chil. 
Noble Madam,  
Ye are welcome to the Court, most nobly welcome,  
Ye are a stranger Lady,  Luc. 
I desire so;  Chil. 
A wondrous stranger here,  
Nothing so strange:  
And therefore need a guide I think.  Luc. 
I do Sir,  
And that a good one too.  Chil. 
My service Lady.  
Shall be your guard in this place; But pray ye tell me,  
Are ye resolved a Courtier?  Luc. 
No I hope Sir;  Clau. 
You are Sir.  Chil. 
Yes my fair one,  Clau. 
So it seems,  
You are so ready to bestow yourself,  
Pray what might cost those Breeches?  Chil. 
Would you wear'em,  
Madam ye have a witty woman.  Mar. 
Two Sir,  
Or else ye underbuy us.  Luc. 
Leave your talking:  
But is my Lord here, I beseech ye Sir?  Chil. 
He is sweet Lady, and must take this kindly,  
Exceeding kindly of ye, wondrous kindly  
Ye come so far to visit him: I'll guide ye,  Luc. 
Whether?  Chil. 
Why to your Lord,  Luc. 
Is it so hard Sir,  
To find him in this place without a Guide?  
For I would willingly not trouble you.  Chil. 
It will be so for you that are a stranger;  
Nor can it be a trouble to do service  
To such a worthy beauty, and besides—  Mar. 
I see he will go with us.  Clau. 
Let him amble.  Chil. 
It fits not that a Lady of your reckoning,  
Should pass without attendants.  Luc. 
I have two Sir.  Chil. 
I mean without a man; You'll see the Emperor?  Luc. 
Alas I am not fit Sir,  Chil. 
You are well enough.  
he'll take it wondrous kindly: Hark,  Luc. 
ye flatter,  
Good Sir, no more of that.  Chil. 
Well, I but tell ye;  Luc. 
Will ye go forward, since I must be manned,  
Pray take your place.  Claud. 
Cannot ye man us too Sir?  Chil. 
Give me but time.  Mar. 
And you'll try all things:  Chil. 
No?  
Make ye no such promise,  Claud. 
If ye do Sir;  
Take heed ye stand to't.  Chil. 
Wondrous merry Ladies.  — Enter Lycinius, and Proculus, Balbus. Luc. 
The wenches are disposed, pray keep your way Sir. Exit  Lyc. 
She is coming up the stairs; Now the Music;  
And as that stirs her, let's set on: perfumes there.  Pro. 
Discover all the jewels:  Lyc. 
Peace. Music.  SONGS. 

Now the lusty Spring is seen,  
Golden yellow, gaudy Blue,  
Daintily Invite the view.  
Everywhere, on every Green,  
Roses blushing as they blow,  
And enticing men to pull,  
Lilies whiter than the snow  
Woodbines of sweet honey full.  
All loves Emblems and all cry,  
Ladies, if not plucked we die.   

Yet the lusty Spring hath stayed,  
Blushing red and purest white,  
Daintily to love invite,  
Every Woman, every Maid,  
Cherries kissing as they grow;  
And inviting men to taste,  
Apples even ripe below,  
Winding gently to the waste,  
All loves emblems and all cry,  
Ladies, if not plucked we die.   

SECOND.  
Hear ye Ladies that despise,  
what the mighty love has done,  
Fear examples, and be wise,  
Fair Calisto was a Nun,  
Leda sailing on the stream,  
To deceive the hopes of man,  
Love accounting but a dream,  
Doted on a silver Swan,  
Danae in a Brazen Tower,  
Where no love was, loved a Flower.  

Hear ye Ladies that are coy,  
What the mighty love can do,  
Fear the fierceness of the Boy,  
The chaste Moon he makes to woe:  
Vesta kindling holy fires,  
Circled round about with spies,  
Never dreaming loose desires,  
Doting at the Altar dies.  
Ilion is a short Tower higher,  
He can build, and once more fire.    Enter Chilax, Lucina, Claudia, and Marcellina. Luc. 
Pray Heaven my Lord be here, for now I fear it.  
Well Ring, if thou be'st counterfeit, or stolen,  
As by this preparation I suspect it,  
Thou hast betrayed thy Mistress: pray Sir forward,  
I would fain see my Lord.  Chil. 
But tell me Madam,  
How do ye like the Song?  Luc. 
I like the air well,  
But for the words, they are lascivious,  
And overlight for Ladies.  Chil. 
All ours love 'em.  Luc. 
'tis like enough, for yours are loving Ladies,  Lyc. 
Madam, ye are welcome to the Court. Who waits?  
Attendants for this Lady;  Luc. 
Ye mistake Sir;  
I bring no triumph with me,  Lyc. 
But much honour.  Pro. 
Why this was nobly done; and like a neighbour,  
So freely of yourself to be a visitant,  
The Emperor shall give ye thanks for this.  Luc. 
O no Sir;  
there's nothing to deserve'em,  Pro. 
Yes, your presence;  Luc. 
Good Gentlemen be patient, and believe  
I come to see my husband, on command too,  
I were no Courtier else.  Lyc. 
That's all one Lady,  
Now ye are here, you're welcome, and the Emperor  
Who loves ye, but too well:  Luc. 
No more of that Sir.  
I came not to be Catechized,  Pro. 
Ah Sirrah;  
And have we got you here, saith Noble Lady,  
we'll keep you one month Courtier.  Luc. 
Gods defend Sir,  
I never liked a trade worse,  Pro. 
Hark ye:  Luc. 
No Sir;  Pro. 
Ye are grown the strangest Lady,  Luc. 
How?  Pro. 
By Heaven,  
'tis true I tell ye, and you'll find it.  Luc. 
I?  
I'll rather find my grave, and so inform him.  Pro. 
Is it not pity Gentlemen, this Lady,  
(Nay I'll deal roughly with ye, yet not hurt ye)  
Should live alone, and give such heavenly beauty,  
Only to walls, and hangings?  Luc. 
Good Sir, patience:  
I am no wonder, neither come to that end,  
Ye do my Lord an injury to stay me,  
Who though ye are the Princes, yet dare tell ye  
He keeps no wife for your ways.  Bal. 
Well, Well Lady;  
however you are pleased to think of us,  
Ye are welcome, and ye shall be welcome;  Luc. 
Show it  
In that I come for then, in leading me  
Where my loved Lord is, not in flattery:— Jewels showed.  
Nay ye may draw the Curtain, I have seen'em  
But none worth half my honesty.  Claud. 
Are these Sir,  
Laid here to take?  Pro. 
Yes, for your lady's Gentlewoman;  Mar. 
We had been doing else,  Bal. 
Meaner jewels  
Would fit your worths;  Claud. 
And meaner clothes your bodies.  Luc. 
The Gods shall kill me first.  Luc. 
there's better dying;  
I'th' Emperor's arms go too, but be not angry—  
These are but talks sweet Lady,  Enter Phorba, and Ardelia. Phor. 
Where is this stranger? rushes, Ladies, rushes,  
Rushes as green as Summer for this stranger;  Pro. 
here's Ladies come to see you.  Luc. 
You are gone then?  
I take it 'tis your Que,  Pro. 
Or rather manners,  
You are better fitted Madam, we but tire ye,  
Therefore we'll leave you for an hour, and bring  
Your much loved Lord unto you — Exeunt.  Luc. 
Then I'll thank ye,  
I am betrayed for certain; well Lucina,  
If thou dost fall from virtue, may the earth  
That after death should shout up gardens of thee,  
Spreading thy living goodness into branches,  
Fly from thee, and the hot Sun find thy vices.  Phor. 
You are a welcome woman;  Ard. 
Bless me heaven,  
How did you find the way to Court?  Luc. 
I know not.  
Would I had never trod it.  Phor. 
Prithee tell me,  
Good Noble Lady, and good sweet heart love us,  
For we love thee extremely; is not this place  
A Paradise to live in?  Luc. 
To those people  
That know no other Paradise but pleasure,  
That little I enjoy contents me better,  Ard. 
What heard ye any Music yet?  Luc. 
Too much.  Phor. 
You must not be thus froward; what, this gown  
Is one o'th' prettiest by my troth Ardelia,  
I ever saw yet; 'twas not to frown in Lady,  
Ye put this gown on when ye came.  Ard. 
How do ye?  
Alas poor wretch how cold it is!  Luc. 
Content ye;  
I am as well as may be, and as temperate,  
If ye will let me be so: where's my Lord?  
For there's the business that I came for Ladies:  Phor. 
we'll lead ye to him, he's i'th' Gallery,  Ard. 
we'll show ye all the Court too.  Luc. 
Show me him,  
And ye have showed me all I come to look on,  Phor. 
Come on, we'll be your guides, and as ye go,  
We have some pretty tales to tell ye Lady,  
Shall make ye merry too; ye come not here,  
To be a sad Lucina.  Luc. 
Would I might not. — Exeunt.—  Enter Chilax and Balbus. Chil. 
Now the soft Music; Balbus run-  Bal. 
I fly Boy — Exit Balbus.  Chil. 
The women by this time are worming of her, — Music.  
If she can hold out them, the Emperor  
Takes her to task: he h'as her; hark the Music:  Luc. 
Good your Grace,  
Where are my women Sir?  Emp. 
They are wise, beholding  
What you think scorn to look on, the court's bravery:  
Would you have run away so slily Lady,  
And not have seen me.  Luc. 
I beseech your Majesty,  
Consider what I am, and whose,  Emp. 
I do so;  Luc. 
Believe me, I shall never make a Whore Sir,  Emp. 
A friend ye may, and to that man that loves ye,  
More than you love your virtue.  Luc. 
Sacred Cesar,  Emp. 
You shall not kneel to me Sweet,  Luc. 
Look upon me,  
And if ye be so cruel to abuse me,  
Think how the Gods will take it; does this beauty  
Afflict your soul? I'll hide it from you ever,  
Nay more, I will become so leprous,  
That ye shall curse me from ye: My dear Lord,  
H'as served ye ever truly, fought your Battles,  
As if he daily longed to die for Cesar,  
Was never Traitor Sir, nor never tainted  
In all the actions of his life.  Emp. 
I know it.  Luc. 
His fame and family have grown together,  
And spread together like to sailing Cedars,  
Over the Roman Diadem; o let not,  
As ye have any flesh that's humane in you,  
The having of a modest wife decline him,  
Let not my virtue be the wedge to break him,  
I do not think ye are lascivious,  
These wanton men belie ye, you are Cesar,  
Which is the Father of the empire's honour,  
Ye are too near the nature of the Gods,  
To wrong the weakest of all creatures: Women.  Emp. 
I dare not do it here, rise fair Lucina,  
I did but try your temper, ye are honest,  
And with the commendations wait on that  
I'll lead ye to your Lord, and ye to him:  
Wipe your fair eyes: he that endeavours ill,  
May well delay, but never quench his hell. — Exeunt.    

Actus Tertius.  

Scaena prima.  Enter Chilax, Lycinius, Proculus, and Balbus. Chil. 
'tIs done Lycinius:  Lyc. 
Ho?  Chil. 
I shame to tell it,  
If there be any justice, we are Villains,  
And must be so rewarded.  Bal. 
If it be done,  
I take it 'tis no time now to repent it,  
Let's make the best o'th' trade.  Pro. 
Now vengeance take it.  
Why should not he have settled on a beauty,  
Whose honesty stuck in a piece of tissue,  
Or one a Ring might rule, or such a one  
That had an itching husband to be honourable,  
And ground to get it: if he must have women,  
And no allay without 'em, why not those  
That know the misery, and are best able  
To play again with judgement? such as she is,  
Grant they be won with long siege, endless travel,  
And brought to opportunity with millions,  
Yet when they come to motion, their cold virtue  
Keeps 'em like cakes of ice; I'll melt a Crystal,  
And make a dead flint fire himself, ere they  
Give greater heat, than now departing embers  
Gives to old men that watch 'em.  Lyc. 
A good Whore  
Had saved all this, and happily as wholesome,  
ay, and the thing once done too, as well thought of,  
But this same chastity forsooth,  Pro. 
A Pox on't,  
Why should not women be as free as we are?  
They are, but not in open, and far freer,  
And the more bold ye bear yourself, more welcome,  
And there is nothing you dare say, but truth,  
But they dare hear.— Enter Emperor and Lucina.  Chi. 
The Emperor! away,  
And if we can repent, let's home and pray. Exeunt.  Emp. 
Your only virtue now is patience,  
Take heed, and save your honour; if you talk,  Luc. 
As long as there is motion in my body,  
And life to give me words, I'll cry for justice.  Emp. 
justice shall never hear ye, I am justice,  Luc. 
Wilt thou not kill me, Monster, Ravisher,  
Thou bitter bane o'th' Empires look upon me,  
And if thy guilty eyes dare see these ruins,  
Thy wild lust hath laid level with dishonour,  
The sacrilegious razing of this Temple,  
The mother of thy black sins would have blushed at,  
Behold and curse thyself; the Gods will find thee,  
That's all my refuge now, for they are righteous,  
Vengeance and horror circle thee; the Empire,  
In which thou liv'st a strong continued surfeit,  
Like poison will disgorge thee, good men raze thee  
For ever being read again,— but vicious  
Women, and fearful Maids, make vows against thee:  
Thy own Slaves, if they hear of this, shall hate thee;  
And those thou hast corrupted first fall from thee;  
And if thou let'st me live, the Soldier,  
tired with thy Tyrannies, break through obedience,  
And shake his strong Steel at thee.  Emp. 
This prevails not;  
Nor any Agony ye utter Lady,  
If I have done a sin, curse her that drew me,  
Curse the first cause, the witchcraft that abused me,  
Curse those fair eyes, and curse that heavenly beauty,  
And curse your being good too.  Luci. 
Glorious thief,  
What restitution canst thou make to save me?  Emp. 
I'll ever love, and honour you.  Luci. 
Thou canst not,  
For that which was mine honour, thou hast murdered,  
And can there be a love in violence?  Emp. 
You shall be only mine.  Luci. 
Yet I like better  
Thy villainy, than flattery, that's thine own,  
The other basely counterfeit; fly from me,  
Or for thy safety's sake and wisdom kill me,  
For I am worse than thou art; thou mayst pray,  
And so recover grace; I am lost for ever,  
And if thou lets't me live, thouart lost thyself too  Emp. 
I fear no loss but love, I stand above it.  Luci. 
Call in your Lady Bawds, and guilded Panders  
And let them triumph too, and sing to Cesar,  
Lucina's fall'n, the chaste Lucnia's conquered;  
Gods, what a wretched thing has this man made me?  
For I am now no wife for Maximus,  
No company for women that are virtuous,  
No family I now can claim, nor Country,  
Nor name, but Caesar's Whore; O sacred Cesar,  
(For that should be your title) was your Empire,  
Your Rods, and Axes, that are types of justice,  
Those fires that ever burn, to beg you blessings,  
The people's adoration, fear of Nations,  
What victory can bring ye home, what else  
The useful Elements can make your servants,  
Even light itself, and suns of light, truth, justice,  
Mercy, and starlike piety sent to you,  
And from the gods themselves to ravish women?  
The curses that I owe to Enemies,  
Even those the Sabines sent, when Romulus,  
(As thou hast me) ravished their noble Maids,  
Made more, and heavier, light on thee.  Emp. 
This helps not.  Luci. 
The sins of Tarquin be remembered in thee,  
And where there has a chaste wife been abused,  
Let it be thine, the shame thine, thine the slaughter,  
And last for ever, thine, the feared example.  
Where shall poor virtue live, now I am fall'n?  
What can your honours now, and Empire make me,  
But a more glorious Whore?  Emp. 
A better woman,  
But if ye will be blind, and scorn it, who can help it?  
Come leave these lamentations, they do nothing,  
But make a noise, I am the same man still,  
Were it to do again; therefore be wiser,  
By all this holy light, I should attempt it,  
Ye are so excellent, and made to ravish,  
There were no pleasure in ye else.  Luci. 
Oh villain.  Emp. 
So bred for man's amazement, that my reason  
And every help to hold me right has lost me;  
The God of love himself had been before me,  
Had he but power to see ye; tell me justly,  
How can I choose but err then? if ye dare,  
Be mine, and only mine, for ye are so precious,  
I envy any other should enjoy ye,  
Almost look on ye; and your daring husband  
Shall know h'as kept an Offering from the Empire,  
Too holy for his Altars; be the mightiest,  
More than myself I'll make it: if ye will not,  
Sit down with this, and silence, for which wisdom,  
Ye shall have use of me, and much honour ever,  
And be the same you were; if ye divulge it,  
Know I am far above the faults I do,  
And those I do I am able to forgive too;  
And where your credit in the knowledge of it,  
May be with gloss enough suspected, mine  
Is as mine own command shall make it:  
Princes though they be sometime subject to loose whispers,  
Yet wear they two edged swords for open censures:  
Your husband cannot help ye, nor the Soldier,  
Your husband is my creature, they my weapons,  
And only where I bid'em, strike; I feed'em,  
Nor can the Gods be angry at this action,  
For as they make me most, they mean me happiest,  
Which I had never been without this pleasure:  
Consider, and farewell: you'll find your women  
At home before ye, they have had some sport too,  
But are more thankful for it — Exit Emperor.  Luci. 
Destruction find thee.  
Now which way must I go? my honest house  
Will shake to shelter me, my husband fly me,  
My Family, because they are honest, and desire to be so,  
Must not endure me, not a neighbour know me:  
What woman now dare see me without blushes,  
And pointing as I pass, there, there, behold her,  
Look on her little Children, that is she,  
That handsome Lady, mark; O my sad fortunes,  
Is this the end of goodness, this the price  
Of all my early prayers to protect me,  
Why then I see there is no God but power,  
Nor virtue now alive that cares for us,  
But what is either lame or sensual,  
How had I been thus wretched else? Enter Maximus and Aecius  Aeci. 
Let Tituis  
Command the company that Pontius lost,  
And see the Fosses deeper.  Max. 
How now sweet heart,  
What make you here, and thus?  Aeci: 
Lucina weeping?  
This must be much offence,  Max. 
Look up and tell me,  
Why are you thus? My Ring? o friend, I have found it,  
Ye were at Court, Sweet,  Luc 
Yes, this brought me thither.  Max. 
Rise, and go home: I have my fears Aecius:  
Oh my best friend, I am ruined; go Lucina,  
Already in thy tears, I have read thy wrongs,  
Already found a Cesar; go thou Lily,  
Thou sweetly drooping flower: go silver Swan,  
And sing thine own sad requiem: go Lucina,  
And if thou dar'st, out live this wrong.  Luc. 
I dare not.  Aec. 
Is that the Ring ye lost?  Max. 
That, that, Aecius,  
That cursed Ring, myself, and all my fortunes:  
'thas pleased the Emperor, my Noble master,  
For all my services, and dangers for him,  
To make me mine own Pandar, was this justice?  
Oh my Aecius, have I lived to bear this?  Luc. 
Farewell for ever Sir.  Max. 
That's a sad saying,  
But such a one becomes ye well Lucina:  
And yet methinks we should not part so lightly,  
Our loves have been of longer growth, more rooted  
Than the sharp word of one farewell can scatter.  
Kiss me: I find no Cesar here; these lips  
Taste not of Ravisher in my opinion.  
Was it not so?  Luc. 
O Yes,  Max. 
I dare believe thee,  
For thou wert ever truth itself, and sweetness:  
Indeed she was Aecius.  Aec. 
So she is still.  Max. 
Once more: O my Lucina; o my comfort,  
The blessing of my youth, the life of my life.  Aec. 
I have seen enough to stagger my obedience:  
Hold me ye equal Gods, this is too sinful.  Max. 
Why wert thou chosen out to make a whore of?  
To me thou wert too chaste: fall crystal fountains,  
And ever feed your streams you rising sorrows,  
Till you have dropped your mistress into marble.  
Now go for ever from me.  Luc. 
Long farewell Sir.  
And as I have been loyal, Gods think on me.  Max. 
Stay, let me once more bid farewell Lucina,  
Farewell thou excellent example of us,  
Thou starry virtue, Fare-thee-well, seek heaven,  
And there by Cassiopeia shine in glory.  
We are too base and dirty to preserve thee.  Aec. 
Nay, I must kiss too: such a kiss again,  
And from a woman of so ripe a virtue,  
Aecius must not take: Farewell thou Phoenix,  
If thou wilt die Lucina; which well weighed  
If you can cease a while from these strange thoughts,  
I wish were rather altered.  Luc. 
No.  Aec. 
Mistake not.  
I would not stain your honour for the Empire,  
Nor any way decline you to discredit,  
'tis not my fair profession, but a villain's:  
I find and feel your loss as deep as you do,  
And am the same Aecius, still as honest,  
The same life I have still for Maximus,  
The same sword wear for you, where justice will me,  
And 'tis no dull one: therefore misconceive not:  
Only I would have you live a little longer,  
But a short year.  Max. 
She must not.  Luc. 
Why so long Sir,  
Am I not grey enough with grief already?  Aec. 
To draw from that wild man a sweet repentance, and goodness in his days to come.  Max. 
They are so,  
And will be ever coming my Aecius.  Aec. 
For who knows but the sight of you, presenting  
His swollen sins at the full, and your fair virtues,  
May like a fearful vision fright his follies,  
And once more bend him right again, which blessing  
(If your dark wrongs would give you leave to read)  
Is more than death, and the reward more glorious:  
Death, only eases you; this, the whole Empire.  
Besides compelled, and forced with violence,  
To what ye have done, the deed is none of yours,  
No nor the justice neither; ye may live,  
And still a worthier woman, still more honoured:  
For are those trees the worse we tear the fruits from?  
Or should the eternal God's desire to perish,  
Because we daily violate their truths,  
Which is the chastity of heaven? No Lady.  
If ye dare live, ye may: and as our sins  
Makes them more full of equity and justice,  
So this compulsive wrong, makes you more perfect:  
The Empire too will bless ye.  Max. 
Noble Sir;  
If she were any thing to me but honour,  
And that that's wedded to me too, laid in  
Not to be worn away without my being:  
Or could the wrong be hers alone, or mine,  
Or both our wrongs, not tide to after issues,  
Not borne anew in all our names and kindreds,  
I would desire her live, nay more, compel her:  
But since it was not youth, but malice did it,  
And not her own, nor mine, but both our losses,  
Nor stays it there, but that our names must find it,  
Even those to come; and when they read, she lived,  
Must they not ask how often she was ravished,  
And make a doubt she loved that more than Wedlock?  
Therefore she must not live.  Aec. 
Therefore she must live,  
To teach the world such deaths are superstitious.  Luc. 
The tongues of Angels cannot alter me;  
For could the world again restore my credit,  
As fair and absolute as first I bred it,  
That world I should not trust again. The Empire  
By my life can get nothing but my story,  
Which whilst I breathe must be but his abuses:  
And where ye council me to live, that Cesar  
May see his errors, and repent, I'll tell ye,  
His penitence is but increase of pleasures,  
His prayers never said but to deceive us,  
And when he weeps, as you think for his vices,  
'tis but as killing drops from baleful Ewgh trees  
That rot their honest neighbour: If he can grieve,  
As one that yet desires his free conversion,  
And almost glories in his penitence,  
I'll leave him robes to mourn in, my sad ashes.  Aec. 
The farewells then of happy souls be with thee,  
And to thy memory be ever sung  
The praises of a just and constant Lady,  
This sad day whilst I live, a soldier's tears  
I'll offer on thy Monument, and bring  
Full of thy noble self with tears untold yet,  
Many a worthy wife, to weep thy ruin,  Max. 
All that is chaste, upon thy Tomb shall flourish,  
All living Epitaphs be thine, Time, Story;  
And what is left behind to piece our lives,  
Shall be no more abused with tales and trifles,  
But full of thee, stand to eternity.  Aeci. 
Once more farewell, go find Elysium,  
There where the happy souls are crowned with blessings,  
There where 'tis ever spring, and ever summer.  Max. 
There where no bedrid justice comes; truth, honour,  
are keeper of that blessed place; go thither,  
For here thou livest chaste fire in rotten timber.  Aeci. 
And so our last farewells.  Max. 
Gods give the justice. — Exit Lucina.  Aeci. 
His thoughts begin to work; I fear him, yet  
He ever was a noble Roman, but  
I know not what to think on't, he hath suffered  
Beyond a man, if he stand this.  Max. 
Aecius,  
Am I alive, or has a dead sleep seized me?  
It was my wife the Emperor abused thus;  
And I must say, I am glad I had her for him;  
Must I not my Aecius?  Aeci. 
I am stricken  
With such a stiff amazement, that no answer  
Can readily come from me, nor no comfort:  
Will ye go home, or go to my house?  Max. 
Neither:  
I have no home, and you are mad Aecius  
To keep me company, I am a fellow  
My own Sword would forsake, not tied unto me:  
A Pandar is a Prince, to what I am fall'n;  
By heaven I dare do nothing.  Aeci. 
Ye do better.  Max. 
I am made a branded slave Aecius,  
And yet I bless the maker;  
Death o my soul, must I endure this tamely?  
Must Maximus be mentioned for his tales?  
I am a child too; what should I do railing?  
I cannot mend myself, 'tis Caesar did it,  
And what am I to him?  Aeci. 
'tis well considered;  
however you are tainted, be no Traitor.  
Time may outwear the first, the last lives ever.  Max. 
O that thou wert not living, and my friend.  Aeci. 
I'll bear a wary eye upon your actions,  
I fear ye Maximus, nor can I blame thee  
If thou breakest out, for by the Gods thy wrong  
Deserves a general ruin: do ye love me?  Max. 
That's all I have to live on.  Aeci. 
Then go with me,  
Ye shall not to your own house.  Max. 
Nor to any,  
My griefs are greater far, than walls can compass,  
And yet I wonder how it happens with me,  
I am not dangerous, and o my conscience  
Should I now see the Emperor i'th' hear on't,  
I should not chide him for't, an awe runs through me,  
I feel it sensibly that binds me to it,  
'tis at my heart now, there it sits and rules,  
And methinks 'tis a pleasure to obey it.  Aeci. 
This is a mask to cozen me; I know ye,  
And how far ye dare do; no Roman farther,  
Nor with more fearless valour; and I'll watch ye:  
Keep that obedience still.  Max. 
Is a wife's loss  
(For her abuse much good may do his grace,  
I'll make as bold with his wife, if I can)  
More than the fading of a few fresh colours,  
More than a lusty spring lost?  Aeci. 
No more Maximus,  
To one that truly lives.  Max. 
Why then I care not, I can live well enough Aecius.  
For look you friend, for virtue, and those trifles,  
They may be bought they say.  Aeci. 
He's crazes a little.  
His grief has made him talk things from his nature.  Max. 
But chastity is not a thing I take it  
To get in Rome, unless it be bespoken  
A hundred year before; is it Aecius?  
by'r lady, and well handled too i'th' breeding.  Aeci. 
Will ye go any way?  Max. 
I'll tell thee friend.  
If my wife for all this should be a whore now,  
A kind of kicker out of sheets, 'twould vex me,  
For I am not angry yet; the Emperor  
Is young and handsome, and the woman flesh,  
And may not these two couple without scratching?  Aeci. 
Alas my noble friend.  Max. 
Alas not me,  
I am not wretched, for there's no man miserable  
But he that makes himself so:  Aeci. 
Will ye walk yet?  Max. 
Come, come, she dare not die friend, that's the truth on't,  
She knows the enticing sweet and delicacies  
Of a young princes' pleasures, and I thank her  
She has made a way for Maximus to rise by?  
Wilt not become me bravely? why do you think  
She wept, and said she was ravished? keep it here  
And I'll discover to you.  Aeci. 
Well.  Max. 
She knows  
I love no bitten flesh, and out of that hope  
She might be from me, she contrived this knavery;  
Was it not monstrous friend?  Aeci. 
does he but seem so,  
Or is he made indeed?  Max. 
Oh Gods, my heart!  Aeci. 
Would it would fairly break.  Max. 
methinks I am somewhat wilder than I was,  
And yet I thank the gods I know my duty- Enter Claudia.  Claud. 
Nay ye may spare your tears; she's dead.  
She is so.  Max. 
Why so it should be: how?  Clau. 
When first she entered  
Into her house, after a world of weeping,  
And blushing like the Sunset, as we see her;  
Dare I said she defile this house with whore,  
In which his noble family has flourished?  
At which she fell, and stirred no more; we rubbed her. Exit Clau.  Max. 
No more of that: be gone: now my Aecius,  
If thou wilt do me pleasure, weep a little,  
I am so parched I cannot: Your example  
Has brought the rain down now: now lead me friend,  
And as we walk together let's pray together truly  
I may not fall from faith.  Aeci. 
That's nobly spoken.  Max. 
Was I not wild, Aecius?  Aeci. 
Somewhat troubled.  Max. 
I felt no sorrow then: Now I'll go with ye,  
But do not name the woman: fie what fool  
Am I to weep thus? God's Lucina take thee,  
For thou wert even the best, and worthiest Lady.  Aeci. 
Good Sir no more, I shall be melted with it.  Max. 
I have done, and good Sir comfort me  
Would there were wars now.  Aeci. 
Settle your thoughts, come.  Max. 
So I have now friend,  
Of my deep lamentations here's an end. — Exeunt.  Enter Pontius, Phidias, and Aretus. Phidias 
By my faith Captain Pontius, besides pity  
Of your fall'n fortunes, what to say I know not,  
For 'tis too true the Emperor desires not  
But my best Master, any Soldier near him:  Are. 
And when he understands, he cast your fortunes  
For disobedience, how can we incline him,  
(That are but under persons to his favours)  
To any fair opinion? Can ye sing?  Pontius 
Not to please him Aretius, for my Songs  
Go not toth' Lute, or Viol, but toth' Trumpet,  
My tune kept on a Target, and my subject  
The well struck wounds of men, not love, or women.  Phi. 
And those he understands not.  Pont. 
He should Phidias,  Are. 
Could you not leave this killing way a little?  
You must if here you would plant yourself, and rather  
Learn as we do, to like what those affect  
That are above us: wear their actions,  
And thinks they keep us warm too: what they say,  
Though oftentimes they speak a little foolishly,  
Not stay to construe, but prepare to execute,  
And think however the end falls, the business  
Cannot run empty handed.  Phid. 
Can ye flatter,  
And if it were put to you, lie a little?  Pont. 
Yes, if it be a living.  Are. 
That's well said then:  Pon. 
But must these lies and flatteries be believed then?  Phi. 
Oh yes by any means.  Pon. 
By any means then,  
I cannot lie, nor flatter.  Are. 
Ye must swear too,  
If ye be there.  Pon. 
I can swear, if they move me.  Phi. 
Cannot ye forswear too.  Pont. 
The Court for ever,  
If it be grown so wicked.  Are. 
You should procure a little too,  Pont. 
What's that?  
men's honest sayings for my truth?  Are. 
Oh no Sir:  
But women's honest actions for your trial.  Pon. 
Do you do all these things?  Phi. 
Do you not like 'em?  Pon. 
Do ye ask me seriously, or trifle with me?  
I am not so low yet, to be your mirth:  Are. 
You do mistake us Captain, for sincerely,  
We ask you how you like 'em.  Pon. 
Then sincerely  
I tell ye I abhor 'em: they are ill ways,  
And I will starve before I fall into 'em.  
The doers of 'em wretches, their base hungers  
Cares not whose bread they eat, nor how they get it:  Are. 
What then Sir?  Pon. 
If you profess this wickedness:  
Because ye have been Soldiers, and borne Arms,  
The servants of the brave Aecius,  
And by him put toth' Emperor, give me leave,  
Or I must take it else, to say ye are villains,  
For all your Golden Coats, debauched, base villains,  
Yet I do wear a sword to tell ye so,  
Is this the way you mark out for a Soldier,  
A man that has commanded for the Empire,  
And borne the reputation of a man?  
Are there not lazy things enough called fools, and cowards,  
And poor enough to be preferred for Panders,  
But wanting Soldiers must be knave too? ha:  
This the trim course of life: were not ye born Bawds,  
And so inherit but your rights? I am poor  
And may expect a worse; yet digging, pruning,  
Mending of broken ways, carrying of water,  
Planting of Words, and Onions, any thing  
That's honest, and a man's, I'll rather choose,  
I and live better on it, which is juster,  
Drink my well gotten water, with more pleasure,  
When my endeavours done, and wages paid me,  
Than you do wine, eat my course bread not cursed,  
And mend upon't, your diets are diseases,  
And sleep as soundly, when my labour bids me,  
As any forward Pander of ye all,  
And rise a great deal honester; my Garments,  
Though not as yours, the soft sins of the Empire,  
Yet may be warm, and keep the biting wind out,  
When every single breath of poor opinion  
Finds you through all your Velvets.  Are. 
You have hit it,  
Nor are we those we seem, the Lord Aecius  
Put us good me toth' Emperor, so we have served him,  
Though much neglected for it: So dare be still:  
Your curses are not ours: we have seen your fortune,  
But yet know no way to redeem it: Means,  
Such as we have, ye shall not want brave Pontius,  
But pray be temperate, if we can wipe out  
The way of your offences, we are yours Sir;  
And you shall live at Court an honest man too.  Phi. 
That little meat and means we have, we'll share it,  
Fear not to be as we are; what we told ye,  
Were but mere trials of your truth: you're worthy,  
And so we'll ever hold ye; suffer better,  
And than ye are a right man Pontius,  
If my good Master be not ever angry,  
Ye shall command again.  Pont. 
I have found two good men: use my life,  
For it is yours, and all I have to thank ye — Exeunt.   

Scaen. 3.  Enter Maximus. Max. 
there's no way else to do it, he must die,  
This friend must die, this soul of Maximus,  
Without whom I am nothing but my shame,  
This perfectness that keeps me from opinion,  
Must die, or I must live thus branded ever:  
A hard choice, and a fatal; God's ye have given me  
A way to credit, but the ground to go on,  
Ye have levelled with that precious life I love most,  
Yet I must on, and through; for if I offer  
To take my way without him, like a Sea  
He bears his high command, twixt me and vengeance,  
And in my own road sinks me, he is honest  
Of a most constant loyalty to Cesar,  
And when he shall but doubt, I dare attempt him,  
But make a question of his ill, but say  
What is a Cesar, that he dare do this,  
Dead sure he cuts me off: Aecius dies,  
Or I have lost myself? why should I kill him?  
Why should I kill myself, for 'tis my killing,  
Aecius is my root, and whither him,  
Like a decaying branch, I fall to nothing.  
Is he not more to me, than wife, than Cesar?  
Though I had now my safe revenge upon him,  
Is he not more than rumour, and his friendship  
Sweeter than the love of women? What is honour  
We all so strangely are bewitched withal?  
Can it relieve me if I want? he has;  
Can honour, twixt the incensed Prince, and Envy,  
Bear up the lives of worthy men? he has;  
Can honour pull the wings of fearful cowards  
And make 'em turn again like Tigers? he has,  
And I have lived to see this, and preserved so;  
Why should this empty word incite me then  
To what is ill, and cruel? let her perish.  
A friend is more than all the world, than honour;  
She is a woman and her loss the less,  
And with her go my griefs: but hark ye Maximus,  
Was she not yours? Did she not die to tell ye  
She was a ravished woman? did not justice  
Nobly begin with her, that not deserved it,  
And shall ye live that did it? Stay a little,  
Can this abuse die here? Shall not men's tongues  
Dispute it afterward, and say I gave  
(Affecting dull obedience, and tame duty,  
And led away with fondness of a friendship)  
The only virtue of the world to slander?  
Is not this certain, was not she a chaste one,  
And such a one, that no compare dwelled with her,  
One of so sweet a virtue, that Aecius,  
Even he himself, this friend that holds me from it,  
Out of his worthy love to me, and justice,  
Had it not been on Caesar, he'd revenged her?  
By heaven he told me so; what shall I do then? — Enter a Servant.  
Can other men affect it, and I cold?  
I fear he must not live.  Serv. 
My Lord, the General  
Is come to seek ye.  Max. 
Go, entreat him to enter:  
O brave Aecius, I could wish thee now  
As far from friendship to me, as from fears,  
That I might cut thee off, like that I weighed not,  
Is there no way without him, to come near it?  
For out of honesty he must destroy me  
If I attempt it, he must die as others,  
And I must lose him; 'tis necessity,  
Only the time, and means is all the difference;  
But yet I would not make a murder of him,  
Take him directly for my doubts; he shall die,  
I have found a way to do it, and a safe one,  
It shall be honour to him too: I know not  
What to determine certain, I am so troubled,  
And such a deal of conscience presses me; — Enter Aecius.  
Would I were dead myself.  Aeci. 
You run away well;  
How got you from me friend?  Max. 
That that leads mad men,  
A strong Imagination made me wander.  Aeci. 
I thought ye had been more settled.  Max. 
I am well,  
But you must give me leave a little sometimes  
To have a buzzing in my brains.  Aeci. 
Ye are dangerous,  
But I'll prevent it if I can; ye told me  
You would go toth' Army.  Max. 
Why, to have my throat cut,  
Must he not be the bravest man Aecius  
That strikes me first?  Aeci. 
You promised me a freedom  
From all these thoughts, and why should any strike you?  Max. 
I am an Enemy, wicked one,  
Worse than the foes of Rome, I am a Coward,  
A Cuckold, and a Coward, that's two causes  
Why every one should beat me.  Aeci. 
Ye are neither;  
And durst another tell me so, he died for't,  
For thus far on mine honour, I'll assure you  
No man more loved than you, and for your valour,  
And what ye may be, fair; no man more followed.  Max. 
A doughty man indeed: but that's all one,  
The Emperor, not all the Princes living  
Shall find a flaw in my coat; I have suffered,  
And can yet; let them find inflictions,  
I'll find a body for 'em, or I'll break it.  
'tis not a wife can thrust me out, some looked for't;  
But let 'em look till they are blind with looking,  
They are but fools, yet there is anger in me,  
That I would fain disperse, and now I think on't,  
You told me friend the Provinces are stirring,  
We shall have sport I hope then, and what's dangerous,  
A Battle shall beat from me.  Aeci. 
Why do ye eye me  
With such a settled look?  Max. 
Pray tell me this,  
Do we not love extremely? I love you so.  Aeci. 
If I should say I loved not you as truly,  
I should do that I never durst do, lie.  Max. 
If I should die, would it not grieve you much?  Aeci. 
Without all doubt.  Max. 
And could you live without me?  Aeci. 
It would much trouble me to live without ye.  
Our loves, and loving souls have been so used  
But to one household in us: But to die  
Because I could not make you live, were woman  
Far much too weak, were it to save your worth,  
Or to redeem your name from rooting out,  
To quit you bravely fighting from the foe,  
Or fetch ye off, where honour had engaged ye,  
I ought, and would die for ye.  Max. 
Truly spoken.  
What beast but I, that must, could hurt this man now?  
Would he had ravished me, I would have paid him,  
I would have taught him such a trick, his Eunuchs  
Nor all his black-eyed boys dreamt of yet;  
By all the Gods I am mad now; Now were Caesar  
Within my reach, and on his glorious top  
The pile of all the world, he went to nothing;  
The destinies, nor all the dames of hell,  
Were I once grappled with him, should relieve him,  
No not the hope of mankind more; all perished;  
But this is words, and weakness.  Aeci. 
Ye look strangely.  Max. 
I look but as I am, I am a stranger.  Aeci. 
To me.  Max. 
To every one, I am no Roman;  
Nor what I am do I know.  Aeci. 
Then I'll leave ye.  Max. 
I find I am best so, if ye meet with Maximus  
Pray bid him be an honest man for my sake,  
You may do much upon him; for his shadow,  
Let me alone.  Aeci. 
Ye were not wont to talk thus,  
And to your friend; ye have some danger in you,  
That willingly would run to action.  
Take heed, by all our love take heed,  Max. 
I danger?  
ay, willing to do any thing, I dig.  
Has not my wife been dead two days already?  
Are not my mournings by this time moth-eaten?  
Are not her sins dispersed to other women,  
And many one ravished to relieve her?  
Have I shed tears these twelve hours?  Aeci. 
Now ye weep.  Max. 
Some lazy drops that stayed behind.  Aeci. 
I'll tell ye  
And I must tell ye truth, were it not hazard,  
And almost certain loss of all the Empire,  
I would wine with ye: were it any man's  
But his life, that is life of us, he lost it  
For doing of this mischief: I would take it,  
And to your rest give ye a brave revenge:  
But as the rule now stands, and as he rules,  
And as the Nations hold in disobedience,  
One pillar failing, all must fall; I dare not:  
Nor is it just you should be suffered in it,  
Therefore again take heed: On foreign foes  
We are our own revengers, but at home  
On Princes that are eminent and ours,  
'tis fit the Gods should judge us: Be not rash,  
Nor let your angry steel cut those ye know not,  
For by this fatal blow, if ye dare strike it,  
As I see great aims in ye, those unborn yet,  
And those to come of them and these succeeding  
Shall bleed the wrath of Maximus: For me  
As ye now bear yourself, I am your friend still,  
If ye fall off I will not flatter ye,  
And in my hands, were ye my soul, you perished:  
Once more be careful, stand, and still be worthy,  
I'll leave ye for this hour. — Exit.  Max. 
Pray do, 'tis done:  
And friendship, since thou canst not hold in dangers,  
Give me a certain ruin, I must through it. Exit.    

Actus Quartus.  

Scaena prima.  Enter Emperor, Lycinius, Chilax, and Balbus. Empe. 
Dead?  Chil. 
So 'tis thought Sir.  Empe. 
How?  Lyci. 
Grief, and disgrace,  
As people say.  Empe. 
No more, I have too much on't,  
Too much by you, you whetters of my follies,  
Ye Angel formers of my sins, but devils;  
Where is your cunning now? you would work wonders,  
There was no chastity above your practice,  
You would undertake to make her love her wrongs,  
And dote upon her rape: mark what I tell ye,  
If she be dead—  Chil. 
Alas Sir.  Empe. 
Hang ye rascals,  
Ye blasters of my youth, if she be gone,  
'twere better ye had been your father's Camels,  
Ground under daily weights of wood and water:  
Am I not Caesar?  Lyci. 
Mighty and our maker.  Empe. 
Then thus have given my pleasures to destruction.  
Look she be living slaves.  Empe. 
We are no Gods Sir,  
If she be dead, to make her new again.  Empe. 
She cannot die, she must not die; are those  
I plant my love upon but common livers?  
Their hours as others, told 'em? can they be ashes?  
Why do ye flatter a belief into me  
That I am all that is, the world's my creature,  
The Trees bring forth their fruits when I say Summer,  
The Wind, that knows no limit but his wildness,  
At my command moves not a leaf; The sea  
With his proud mountain waters envying heaven,  
When I say still, run into crystal mirrors,  
Can I do this and she die? Why ye bubbles  
That with my least breath break, no more remembered;  
Ye moths that fly about my flame and perish,  
Ye golden cancer-worms, that eat my honours,  
Living no longer than my spring of favour:  
Why do ye make me God that can do nothing?  
Is she not dead?  Chil. 
All women are not with her.  Empe. 
A common whore serves you, and far above ye,  
The pleasures of a body lamed with lewdness;  
A mere perpetual motion make ye happy:  
Am I a man to traffic with diseases?  
Can any but a chastity serve Caesar?  
And such a one the Gods would kneel to purchase?  
You think because you have breed me up to pleasures,  
And almost run me over all the rare ones,  
Your wives will serve the turn: I care not for 'em,  
Your wives are fencer's whores, and shall be footmen's,  
Though sometimes my nice will, or rather anger  
Have made ye Cuckolds for variety;  
I would not have ye hope, nor dream ye poor ones  
Always so great a blessing from me; go  
Get your own infamy hereafter rascals,  
I have done too nobly for ye, ye enjoy  
Each one an heir, the royal seed of Caesar,  
And I may curse ye for't; your wanton Gennets  
That are so proud, the wind gets 'em with fillies,  
Taught me this foul intemperance: Thou Lycinius  
Hast such a Messalina, such a Lais,  
The backs of bulls cannot content, nor Stallions,  
The sweat of fifty men a night does nothing.  Lyci. 
Your Grace but jests I hope.  Empe. 
'tis Oracle.  
The sins of other women put by hers  
Show off like sanctities: Thin's a fool Chilax,  
Yet she can tell to twenty, and all lovers,  
And all lain with her too, and all as she is,  
Rotten, and ready for an hospital.  
Yours is a holy whore friend Balbus.  Bal. 
Well Sir.  Empe. 
One that can pray away the sins she suffers,  
But not the punishments: She has had ten bastards,  
Five of 'em now are lictors, yet she prays;  
She has been the song of Rome, and common Pasquill;  
Since I durst see a wench, she was Camp mistress,  
And mustered all the cohorts, paid 'em too,  
They have it yet to show, and yet she prays;  
She is now to enter old men that are children,  
And have forgot their rudiments: am I  
Left for these withered vices? and but one,  
But one of all the world that could content me,  
And snatched away in showing? If your wives  
Be not yet witches, or yourselves, now be so  
And save your lives, raise me this noble beauty  
As when I forced her, full of constancy,  
Or by the Gods—  Lyci. 
Most sacred Caesar.  Empe. 
Slaves.  Lycias. 
Good Proculus:  Pro. 
By heaven you shall not see it,  
It may concern the Empire.  Empr. 
Ha: what saidst thou?  
Is she not dead?  Pro. 
Not any one I know Sir;  
I come to bring your Grace a letter, here  
Scattered belike i'th' Court: 'tis sent to Maximus,  
And bearing danger in it.  Emp. 
Danger? where?  
Double our Guard.  Pro. 
Nay nowhere, but i'th' letter.  Emp. 
What an afflicted conscience do I live with,  
And what a beast I am grown? I had forgotten  
To ask heaven mercy for my fault, and was now  
Even ravishing again her memory,  
I find there must be danger in this deed:  
Why do I stand disputing, then and whining?  
For what is not the gods? to give they cannot  
Though they would link their powers in one do mischief.  
This Letter may betray me, get ye gone — Exeunt.  
And wait me in the Garden, guard the house well,  
And keep this from the Empress; The name Maximus  
Runs through me like a , this may be  
Some private Letter upon private business,  
Nothing concerning me: why should I open't?  
I have done him wrong enough already; yet  
It may concern me too, the time so tells me;  
The wicked deed I have done, assures me 'tis so.  
Be what it will, I'll see it, if that be not  
Part of my fears, among my other sins,  
I'll purge it out in prayers:  
How? what's this?  
Letter red .Lord Maximus, you love Aecius,  
And are his noble friend too; bid him be less,  
I mean less with the people, times are dangerous:  
The Army's his, the Emperor in doubts;  
And as some will not stick to say, declining,  
You stand a constant man in either fortunes;  
Persuade him, he is lost else: Though ambition  
Be the last sin he touches at, or never;  
Yet what the people made with loving him,  
And as they willingly desire another  
May tempt him too, or rather force his goodness,  
Is to be doubted mainly: he is all,  
(As he stands now) but the mere name of Cesar,  
And should the Emperor enforce him lesser,  
Not coming from himself, it were more dangerous:  
He is honest, and will hear you: doubts are scattered,  
And almost come to growth in every household:  
Yet in my foolish judgement, were this mastered;  
The people that are now but rage, and his,  
Might be again obedience: you shall know me,  
When Rome is fair again; till when I love you.  
No name! this may be cunning, yet it seems not;  
For there is nothing in it but is certain,  
Besides my safety.  
Had not good Germanicus,  
That was as loyal, and as straight as he is,  
If not prevented by Tiberius,  
been by the Soldiers forced their Emperor?  
He had, and 'tis my wisdom to remember it.  
And was not Corbulo, even that Corbulo,  
That ever fortunate and living Roman,  
That broke the heart strings of the Parthians,  
And brought arsase's line upon their knees,  
Chained to the awe of Rome, because he was thought  
(And but in wine once) fit to make a Cesar,  
Cut off by Nero? I must seek my safety:  
For 'tis the same again, if not beyond it:  
I know the Soldier loves him more than heaven,  
And will adventure all his gods to raise him;  
Me he hates more than peace: what this may breed,  
If dull security and confidence  
Let him grow up, a fool may find, and laughed at.  
But why Lord Maximus I injured so,  
Should be the man to council him, I know not;  
More than he has been friend, and loved allegiance:  
What now he is I fear, for his abuses  
Without the people date draw blood; who waits there?  Servant. 
Your Grace. — Enter a Servant.  Emp. 
Call Phidias and Aretus hither:  
I'll find a day for him too; times are dangerous,  
The Army his, the Emperor in doubts:  
I find it is too true; did he not tell me  
1. As if he had intent to make me odious,  
2. And to my face; and by a way of terror,  
What vices I was grounded in, and almost  
proclaimed the Soldiers hate against me? is not  
The sacred name and dignity of Cesar  
(Were this Aecius more than man) sufficient  
To shake off all his honesty? he's dangerous  
Though he be good, and though a friend, a feared one,  
And such I must not sleep by: are they come yet?  
I do believe this fellow, and I thank him;  
'twas time to look about, if I must perish,  
Yet shall my fears goes foremost.  — Enter Phidias, and Aretus. Phil. 
Life to Cesar:  Emp. 
Is Lord Aecius waiting?  Phi. 
Not this morning,  
I rather think he's with the Army,  Emp. 
Army?  
I do not like that Army: go unto him,  
And bid him straight attend me, and do ye hear,  
Come private without any; I have business  
Only for him.  Phi. 
Your grace's pleasure — Exit Phidias.  Emp. 
Go;  
What Soldier is the same, I have seen him often,  
That keeps you company Aretus?  Are. 
Me Sir?  Emp. 
I you Sir.  Are. 
One they call Pontius,  
an't please your Grace.  Emp. 
A Captain?  Are. 
Yes, he was so;  
But speaking something roughly in his want,  
Especially of wars, the noble General  
Out of a strict allegiance cast his fortunes:  Emp. 
Has been a valiant fellow.  Are. 
So he's still.  Emp. 
Alas, the General might have pardoned follies,  
Soldiers will talk sometimes.  Are. 
I am glad of this.  Emp. 
He wants preferment as I take it:  Are. 
Yes Sir;  
And for that noble Grace his life shall serve.  Emp. 
I have a service for him:  
I shame a Soldier should become a Beggar:  
I like the man Aretus.  Are. 
Gods protect ye:  Emp. 
Bid him repair to Proculus, and there  
He shall receive the business, and reward for't:  
I'll see him settled too, and as a Soldier,  
We shall want such.  
The sweets of Heaven still crown ye,  
I have a fearful darkness in my soul,  
And till I be delivered, still am dying. — Exeunt.   

Scaen. 2.  Enter Maximus alone. Max. 
My way has taken: all the Court's in guard,  
And business everywhere, and every corner  
Full of strange whispers: I am least in rumour,  — Enter Aecius and Phidias. 
And so I'll keep myself, Here comes Aecius  
I see the bait is swallowed: If he be lost  
He is my Martyr, and my way stands open,  
And honour on thy head, his blood is reckoned.  Aec. 
Why how now friend, what make ye here unarmed:  
Are ye turned Merchant?  Max. 
By your fair persuasions,  
And such a Merchant trafficks without danger;  
I have forgotten all Aecius,  
And which is more, forgiven.  Aec. 
Now I love ye,  
Truly I do, ye are a worthy Roman.  Max. 
The fair repentance of my Prince to me  
Is more than sacrifice of blood and vengeance,  
No eyes shall weep her ruins, but mine own.  Aec. 
Still ye take more love from me: virtuous friend  
The gods make poor Aecius worthy of thee:  Max. 
Only in me you're poor Sir: and I worthy  
Only in being yours:  
But why your arm thus,  
Have ye been hurt Aecius?  Aec. 
Bruised a little:  
My horse fell with me friend: which till this morning  
I never knew him do.  Max. 
Pray gods it bode well;  
And now I think on't better, ye shall back,  
Let my persuasions rule ye.  Aec. 
Back, why Maximus?  
The Emperor commands me come.  Max. 
I like not  
At this time his command.  Aec. 
I do at all times,  
And all times will obey it, why not now then?  Max. 
I'll tell ye why, and as I have been governed,  
Be you so noble Friend: The Courts in Guard,  
Armed strongly, for what purpose, let me fear;  
I do not like your going.  Aec. 
Were it fire;  
And that fire certain to consume this body,  
If Cesar sent, I would go; never fear man,  
If he take me, he takes his arms away.  
I am too plain and true to be suspected.  Max. 
Then I have dealt unwisely,  Aec. 
If the Emperor,  
Because he merely may, will have my life,  
That's all he has to work on, and all shall have:  
Let him, 'a loves me better: here I wither,  
And happily may live, till ignorantly  
I run into a fault worth death: nay more, dishonour.  
Now all my sins, I dare say those of duty  
Are printed here, and if I fall so happy,  
I bless the grave, I lie in, and the gods  
Equal, as dying on the Enemy,  
Must take me up a Sacrifice.  Max. 
Go on then,  
And I'll go with ye.  Aec. 
No, ye may not friend.  Max. 
He cannot be a friend, bars me Aecius,  
Shall I forsake ye in my doubts?  Aec. 
Ye must.  Max. 
I must not, nor I will not; have I lived  
Only to be a Carpet friend for pleasure?  
I can endure a death as well as Cato.  Aec. 
There is no death nor danger in my going,  
Nor none must go along.  Max. 
I have a sword too,  
And once I could have used it for my friend.  Aec. 
I need no sword, nor friend in this, pray leave me;  
And as ye love me, do not overlove me;  
I am commanded none shall come: At supper  
I'll meet ye, and we'll drink a cup or two,  
Ye need good Wine, ye have been sad: Farewell.  Max. 
Farewell my noble Friend, let me embrace ye  
Ere ye depart; it may be one of us  
Shall never do the like again.  Aec. 
Yes often:  Max. 
Farewell good dear Aecius.  Aec. 
Farewell Maximus  
Till night: indeed you doubt too much. — Exit.  Max. 
I do not:  
Go worthy innocent, and make the number  
Of Caesar's sins so great, heaven may want mercy:  
I'll hover hereabout to know what passes:  
And if he be so devilish to destroy thee,  
In thy blood shall begin his Tragedy. — Exit.   

Scaen. 3.  Enter Proculus, and Pontius. Pro. 
Besides this, if you do it, you enjoy  
The noble name Patrician: more than that too,  
The Friend of Cesar ye are styled: there's nothing  
Within the hopes of Rome, or present being  
But you may safely say is yours.  Pon. 
Pray stay Sir;  
What has Aecius done to be destroyed?  
At least I would have a colour.  Pro. 
Ye have more,  
Nay all that may be given, he is a Traitor,  
One, any man would strike that were a subject,  Pon. 
Is he so foul?  Pro. 
Yes, a most fearful Traitor.  Pon. 
A fearful plague upon thee, for thou liest;  
I ever thought the Soldier would undo him  
With his too much affection.  Pro. 
Ye have hit it,  
They have brought him to ambition.  Pon. 
Then he is gone:  Pro. 
The Emperor out of a foolish pity.  
Would save him yet.  Pon. 
Is he so mad?  Pro. 
He's madder!  
Would go toth' Army to him.  Pon. 
Would'a so?  Pro. 
Yes Pontius; but we consider—  Pon. 
Wisely;  Pro. 
How else man, that the state lies in it,  Pon. 
And your lives too:  Pro. 
And every man's.  Pon. 
He did me  
All the disgrace he could  Pro. 
And scurvily,  Pon. 
Out of a mischief merely: did you mark it?  
Yes well enough.  Pro. 
Now ye have means to quit it,  
The deed done, take his place.  Pon. 
Pray let me think on't,  
'tis ten to one I do it.  Pro. 
Do and be happy. — Exit Pro.  Pon. 
This Emperor is made of nought but mischief,  
Sure, Murder was his Mother: none to lop,  
But the main link he had? upon my conscience  
The man is truly honest, and that kills him;  
For to live here, and study to be true,  
Is all one to be Traitors: why should he die?  
Have they not Slaves and Rascals for their Offerings  
In full abundance; Bawds more than beasts for slaughter?  
Have they not singing whores enough, and knaves too,  
And millions of such Martyrs to sink Charon,  
But the best sons of Rome must sail too? I will show him  
(since he must die) a way to do it truly:  
And though he bears me hard, yet shall he know,  
I am born to make him bless me for a blow. — Exit.   

Scaen. 2.  Enter Phidias, Aretus, and Aecius. Phi. 
Yet ye may scape toth' Camp, we'll hazard with ye,  
Aretus Lose not your life so basely Sir: ye are armed,  
And many when they see your sword out, and know why  
Must follow your adventure.  Aec. 
Get ye from me:  
Is not the doom of Cesar on this body,  
Do not I bear my last hour here, now sent me?  
Am I not old Aecius, ever dying?  
You think this tenderness and love you bring me,  
'tis treason, and the strength of disobedience,  
And if ye tempt me further, ye shall feel it:  
I seek the Camp for safety, when my death  
Ten times more glorious than my life, and lasting  
Bids me be happy: Let the fool fear dying,  
Or he that weds a woman for his honour,  
Dreaming no other life to come but kisses;  
Aecius is not now to learn to suffer:  
If ye dare show a just affection, kill me,  
I stay but those that must: why do ye weep?  
Am I so wretched to deserve men's pities?  
Go give your tears to those that lose their worths,  
Bewail their miseries, for me wear Garlands,  
Drink wine, and much; sing paeans to my praise,  
I am to triumph friends, and more than Cesar,  
For Cesar fears to die, I love to die.  Phi. 
O my dear Lord!  Aec. 
No more, go, go I say;  
Show me not signs of sorrow, I deserve none:  
Dare any man lament, I should die nobly;  
Am I grown old to have such enemies?  
When I am dead, speak honourably of me,  
That is, preserve my memory from dying;  
There if you needs must weep your ruind Master,  
A tear or two will seem well: this I charge ye,  
(because ye say you yet love old Aecius)  
See my poor body burnt, and some to sing  
About my Pile, and what I have done and suffered,  
If Cesar kill not that too: at your banquets  
When I am gone, if any chance to number  
The times that have been sad and dangerous,  
Say how I fell, and 'tis sufficient:  
No more I say, he that laments my end  
By all the gods dishonours me; be gone  
And suddenly, and wisely from my dangers,  
My death is catching else.  Phi. 
We fear not dying:  Aec. 
Yet fear a wilful death, the just Gods hate it,  
I need no company to that that children  
Dare do alone, and Slaves are proud to purchase;  
Live till your honesties, as mine has done,  
Make this corrupted age sick of your virtues,  
Then die a sacrifice, and than ye know  
The noble use of dying well, and Roman.  Are. 
And must we leave ye Sir?  Aec. 
We must all die  
And leave ourselves, it matters not, where, when,  
Nor how, so we die well: and can that man that does so  
Need lamentation for him? Children weep  
Because they have offended, or for fear,  
Women for want of will, and anger; is there  
In noble man, that truly feels both poises  
Of life and death, so much of this wet weakness,  
To drown a glorious death in child and woman?  
I am a shamed to see ye; yet ye move me,  
And were it not my manhood would accuse me,  
For covetous to live, I should weep with ye.  Phi. 
O we shall never sense you more:  Aec. 
'tis true;  
Nor I the miseries that Rome shall suffer,  
Which is a benefit life cannot reckon:  
But what I have been, which is just, and faithful;  
One that grew old for Rome, when Rome forgot him,  
And for he was an honest man durst die,  
Ye shall have daily with ye: could that die too,  
And I return no traffic of my travels,  
No pay to have been Soldier, but this silver,  
No Annals of Aecius, but he lived,  
My friends ye had cause to weep, and bitterly;  
The common overflows of tender women,  
And children new borne crying, were too little  
To show me then most wretched: if tears must be,  
I should in justice weep 'em, and for you,  
You are to live, and yet behold those slaughters  
The dry, and withered bones of death would bleed at:  
But sooner, than I have time to think what must be,  
I fear you'll find what shall be;  
If ye love me,  
Let that word serve for all, be gone and leave me;  
I have some little practice with my soul,  
And then the sharpest sword is welcom'st; go,  
Pray be gone, ye have obeyed me living,  
Be not for shame now stubborn; so I thank ye,  
And farewell, a better fortune guide ye—  Exeunt Phi. and Aretius. 
I am a little thirsty, not for fear,  
And yet it is a kind of fear, I say so;  
Is it to be a just man now again,  
And leave my flesh unthought of, 'tis departed;  
I hear 'em come, who strikes first?  
I stay for ye:  — Enter Balbus, Chilax, Lycinius. 
Yet I will die a Soldier, my sword drawn,  
But against none:  
Why do ye fear? come forward.  Bal. 
You were a Soldier Chilax,  Chil. 
Yes, I mustered  
But never saw the Enemy.  Lyc. 
he's drawn,  
By heaven I dare not do it.  Aec. 
Why do ye tremble?  
I am to die, come ye not now from Cesar,  
To that end, speak?  Bal. 
We do, and we must kill ye,  
'tis Caesar's will.  Chil. 
I charge you put your sword up,  
That we may do it handsomely.  Aec. 
Ha, ha, ha,  
My sword up, handsomely where were ye bred?  
Ye are the merriest murderers my masters  
I ever met withal; Come forward fools,  
Why do ye stare? upon mine honour Bawds,  
I will not strike ye.  Lyc. 
I'll not be first,  Bal. 
Nor I;  Chil. 
You had best die quietly: the Emperor  
Sees how you bear yourself,  Aec. 
I would die Rascals,  
If you would kill me quietly,  Bal. 
— Of Proculus,  
He promised us to bring a Captain hither,  
That has been used to kill.  Aec. 
I'll call the Guard,  
Unless you will kill me quickly, and proclaim  
What beastly, base, and cowardly companions,  
The Emperor has trusted with his safety:  
Nay I'll give out, ye fell of my side, villains.  
Strike home ye bawdy slave.  Chil. 
By heaven he will kill us,  
I marked his hand, he waits but time to reach us,  
Now do you offer.  Aec. 
If ye do mangle me,  
And kill me not at two blows, or at three,  
Or not so stagger me, my senses fail me,  
Look to yourselves.  Chil. 
I told ye,  Aec. 
Strike me manly,  
And take a thousand strokes. — Enter Pontius.  Bal. 
here's Pontius.  Pon. 
Not killed him yet?  
Is this the love ye bear the Emperor?  
Nay then I see ye are Traitors all, have at ye — Lyc. runs away  Chil. 
Oh I am hurt,  Balb. 
And I am killed — Exeunt Chil. and Bal.  Pon. 
Die Bawds;  
As ye have lived and flourished.  Aec. 
Wretched fellow,  
What hast thou done?  Pon. 
Killed them that durst not kill,  
And you are next.  Aec. 
Art thou not Pontius?  Pon. 
I am the same you cast Aecius,  
And in the face of all the Camp disgraced.  Aec. 
Then so much nobler, as thou wert a Soldier,  
Shall my death be: is it revenge provoked thee,  
Or art thou hired to kill me?  Pon. 
Both,  Aec. 
Then do it.  Pon. 
Is that all?  Aec. 
Yes,  Pon. 
Would you not live?  Aec. 
Why should I,  
To thank thee for my life?  Pon. 
Yes, if I spare it,  Aec. 
Be not deceived, I was not made to thank  
For any courtesy, but killing me,  
A fellow of thy fortune; do thy duty.  Pon. 
Do not you fear me?  Aec. 
No.  Pon. 
Nor love me for it?  Aec. 
That's as thou dost thy business,  Pon. 
When you are dead,  
Your place is mine Aecius.  Aec. 
Now I fear thee,  
And not alone thee Pontius, but the Empire,  Pon. 
Why, I can govern Sir;  Aec. 
I would thou couldst,  
And first thyself: Thou canst fight well, and bravely,  
Thou canst endure all dangers, heats, colds, hungers;  
Heavens angry flashes are not suddener,  
Than I have seen thee execute; nor more mortal;  
The winged feet of flying enemies  
I have stood and viewed thee mow away like rushes,  
And still kill the killer: were thy mind,  
But half so sweet in peace, as rough in dangers,  
I died to leave a happy heir behind me;  
Come strike, and be a General.  Pon. 
Prepare then:  
And for I see your honour cannot lessen,  
And 'twere a shame for me to strike a dead man,  
Fight your short span out.  Aec. 
No thou know'st I must not,  
I dare not give thee so much vantage of me,  
As disobedience;  Pon. 
Dare ye not defend ye,  
Against your enemy?  Aec. 
Not sent from Cesar,  
I have no power to make such enemies;  
For as I am condemned, my naked sword  
Stands but a hatchment by me; only held  
To show I was a Soldier; had not Cesar  
Chained all defence in this doom, let him die,  
Old as I am, and quenched with scars, and sorrows,  
Yet would I make this withered Arm do wonders,  
And open in an enemy such wounds  
Mercy would weep to look on.  Pon. 
Then have at ye,  
And look upon me, and be sure ye fear not:  
Remember who you are, and why you live,  
And what I have been to you: cry not hold,  
Nor think it base injustice I should kill ye.  Aec. 
I am prepared for all,  Pon. 
For now Aecius,  
Thou shalt behold and find I was no traitor,  
And as I do it, bless me; die as I do. — Pontius kills himself  Aec. 
Thou hast deceived me Pontius, and I thank thee;  
By all my hopes in heaven, thou art a Roman.  Pon. 
To show you what you ought to do, this is not;  
For slanders self would shame to find you coward,  
Or willing to outlive your honesty:  
But noble Sir, ye have been jealous of me,  
And held me in the ranks of dangerous persons,  
And I must dying say it was but justice,  
Ye cast me from my credit; yet believe me,  
For there is nothing now but truth to save me,  
And your forgiveness, though ye held me heinous,  
And of a troubled spirit, that like fire  
Turns all to flames it meets with, ye mistook me;  
If I were foe to any thing, 'twas ease,  
Want of the Soldiers due, the Enemy,  
The nakedness we found at home, and scorn,  
Children of peace, and pleasures, no regard  
Nor comfort for our scars, but how we got 'em,  
To rusty time, that eat our bodies up,  
And even began to prey upon our honours,  
To wants at home, and more than wants, abuses  
To them, that when the Enemy invaded  
Made us their Saints, but now the sores of Rome;  
TTo silken flattery, and pride plained over,  
Forgetting with what wind their feathers sail,  
And under whose protection their soft pleasures  
Grow full and numberless: to this I am foe,  
Not to the state, or any point of duty:  
And let me speak but what a Soldier may,  
Truly I ought to be so; yet I erred,  
Because a far more noble sufferer  
Showed me the way to patience, and I lost it:  
This is the end I die Sir; to live basely,  
And not the follower of him that bred me,  
In full account and virtue Pontius dare not,  
Much less to outlive what is good, and flatter.  Aec. 
I want a name to give thy virtue Soldier,  
For only good is far below thee Pontius,  
The gods shall find thee one; thou hast fashioned death,  
In such an excellent, and beauteous manner,  
I wonder men can live: Canst thou speak once more,  
For thy words are such harmony, a soul  
Would choose to fly to heaven in  Pon. 
A farewell:  
Good noble General your hand, forgive me,  
And think whatever was displeasing you,  
Was none of mine: ye cannot live.  Aec. 
I will not:  
Yet one word more.  Pon. 
Die nobly: Rome farewell:  
And Valentinian fall, thou hast broke thy bases,  
In joy ye have given me a quiet death,  
I would strike more wounds, if I had more breath — he dies.  Aec. 
Is there an hour of goodness beyond this?  
Or any man would outlive such a dying  
Would Cesar double all my honours on me,  
And stick me o'er with favours, like a Mistress;  
Yet would I grow to this man: I have loved,  
But never doted on a face till now:  
O death thou art more than beauty, and thy pleasure  
Beyond posterity: Come friends and kill me;  
Cesar be kind, and send a thousand swords,  
The more, the greater is my fall: why stay ye?  
Come, and I'll kiss your weapons: fear me not,  
By all the gods I'll honour ye for killing:  
Appear, or through the Court, and world, I'll search ye:  
My sword is gone; ye are Traitors if ye spare me,  
And Cesar must consume ye, all base cowards?  
I'll follow ye, and ere I die proclaim ye,  
The weeds of Italy; the dross of nature — Exit.  
Where are ye, villains, traitors, slaves.—  Enter Proculus, and 3. others running over the Stage. Pro. 
I knew  
he'd killed the Captain,  1. 
Here's his sword.  Pro. 
Let it alone, 'twill fight itself else; friends,  
An hundred men are not enough to do it,  
I'll to the Emperor, and get more aid.  Aec. 
None strike a poor condemned man.  Pro. 
He is mad:  
Shift for yourselves my masters. — Exeunt.  Aec. 
Then Aecius, — Enter Aecius.  
See what thou dar'st thyself; hold my good sword,  
Thou hast been kept from blood too long, I'll kiss thee,  
For thou art more than friend now, my preserver,  
Show me the way to happiness, I seek it:  
And all you great ones, that have fall'n as I do,  
To keep your memories, and honours living,  
Be present in your virtues, and assist me,  
That like strong Cato, I may put away  
All promises, but what shall crown my ashes;  
Rome, faretheewell: stand long, and know to conquer  
Whilst there is people, and ambition:  
Now for a stroke shall turn me to a Star:  
I come ye blessed spirits, make me room  
To live for ever in Elysium:  
Do men fear this? O that posterity  
Could learn from him but this, that loves his wound,  
There is no pain at all in dying well,  
Nor none are lost, but those that make their hell — kills himself.  — Enter Proculus and two others, 1. 
Within .he's dead, draw in the Guard again,  Pro. 
he's dead indeed,  
And I am glad he's gone; he was a devil:  
His body, if his Eunuchs come, is theirs;  
The Emperor out of his love to virtue,  
Has given 'em that: Let no man stop their entrance. — Exit.  — Enter Phidias and Aretus. Phi. 
O my most Noble Lord, look here Aretus,  
here's a sad sight.  Are. 
O cruelty! O Cesar,  
O times that bring forth nothing but destruction,  
And overflows of blood: why wa't thou killed?  
Is it to be a just man now again,  
As when Tiberius and wild Nero reigned,  
Only assurance of his overthrow?  Phil. 
It is Aretus: he that would live now,  
Must like the Toad, feed only on corruptions,  
And grow with those to greatness: honest virtue,  
And the true Roman honour, faith and valour  
That have been all the riches of the Empire,  
Now like the fearful tokens of the Plague,  
Are mere forerunners of their ends that owe 'em.  Are. 
Never enough lamented Lord: dear master — Enter Maximus.  
Of whom now shall we learn to live like men?  
From whom draw out our actions just, and worthy:  
Oh thou art gone, and gone with thee all goodness,  
The great example of all equity,  
O thou alone a Roman, thou art perished,  
Faith, fortitude, and constant nobleness,  
Weep Rome, weep Italy, weep all that knew him,  
And you that feared him as a noble Foe,  
(If Enemies have honourable tears)  
Weep this decayed Aecius fall'n, and scattered—  
By foul, and base suggestion.  Pho. 
O Lord Maximus,  
This was your worthy friend.  Max. 
The gods forgive me:  
Think not the worse my friends, I shed not tears,  
Great griefs lament within; yet now I have find:  
Would I had never known the world, nor women,  
Nor what that cursed name of honour was,  
So this were once again Aecius:  
But I am destined to a mighty action,  
And beg my pardon friend, my vengeance taken,  
I will not be long from thee: ye have a great loss,  
But bear it patiently, yet to say truth  
In justice 'tis not sufferable: I am next,  
And were it now, I would be glad on't: friends,  
Who shall preserve you now?  Are. 
Nay we are lost too.  Max. 
I fear ye are, for likely such as love  
The man that's fall'n, and have been nourished by him,  
Do not stay long behind: 'tis held no wisdom.  
I know what I must do o my Aecius,  
Canst thou thus perish, plucked up by the roots,  
And no man feel thy worthiness? From boys  
He bred you both I think.  Phi. 
And from the poorest,  Max. 
And loved ye as his own,  Are. 
We found it Sir.  Max. 
Is not this a loss then?  Phi. 
O, a loss of losses;  
Our lives, and ruins of our families,  
The utter being nothing of our names,  
Were nothing near it.  Max. 
As I take it too,  
He put ye to the Emperor.  Are. 
He did so,  Max. 
And kept ye still in credit.  Phi. 
'tis most true Sir;  Max. 
He fed your Fathers too, and made them means,  
Your Sisters he preferred to Noble Wedlocks,  
Did he not friends?  Are. 
Oh yes Sir:  Max. 
As I take it  
This worthy man would not be now forgotten,  
I tell ye to my grief, he was basely murdered;  
And something would be done, by those that loved him:  
And something may be: pray stand off a little.  
Let me bewail him private: o my dearest.  Phi. 
Aretus, if we be not sudden, he out does us,  
I know he points at vengeance; we are cold,  
And base ungrateful wretches, if we shun it:  
Are we to hope for more rewards, or greatness,  
Or any thing but death, now he is dead?  
Dar'st thou resolve?  Are. 
I am perfect.  Phi. 
Then like flowers  
That grew together all we'll fall together,  
And with us that that bore us: when 'tis done  
The world shall style us two deserving servants:  
I fear he will be before us.  Are. 
This night Phidias:  Phi. 
No more.  Max. 
Now worthy friends I have done my mournings  
Let's burn this Noble body: Sweets as many  
As sunburnt: Nero breeds, I'll make a flame of  
Shall reach his soul in heaven: he that shall live  
Ten ages hence, but to rehearse this story,  
Shall with the sad discourse on't, darken Heaven,  
And force the painful burdens from the wombs  
Conceived anew with sorrow: even the Grave  
Where mighty Sulla sleeps shall rend asunder  
And give her shadow up, to come and groan  
About our piles, which will be more, and greater  
Than green Olimpus, Jda, or old Latmus  
Can feed with Cedar, or the East with Gums,  
Greece with her wines, or thessaly with flowers,  
Or willing heaven can weep for in her showers. Exeunt.    

Actus Quintus.  

Scaena prima.  Enter Phidias with his dagger in him, and Aretius poisoned. Are. 
HE h'as his last.  Phi. 
Then come the worst of danger,  
Aecius to thy soul we give a Cesar,  
How long is't since ye gave it him?  Are. 
An hour,  
Mine own two hours before him: how it boil me!  Phi. 
It was not to be cured I hope.  Are. 
No Phidias,  
I dealt above his Antidotes: Physicians  
May find the cause, but where the cure?  Phi. 
Done bravely,  
We are got before his tyranny Aretus.  Are. 
We had lost our worthiest end else Phidias:  Phi. 
Canst thou hold out a while?  Are. 
To torture him  
Anger would give me leave, to live an age yet;  
That man is poorly spirited, whose life  
Runs in his blood alone, and not in's wishes.  
And yet I swell, and burn like flaming Aetna,  
A thousand new found fires are kindled in me,  
But yet I must not die this four hours Phidias.  Phi. 
Remember who dies with thee, and despise death.  Are. 
I need no exhortation, the joy in me  
Of what I have done, and why, makes poison pleasure,  
And my most killing torments mistresses.  
For how can he have time to die, or pleasure  
That falls as fools unsatisfied, and simple?  Phi. 
This that consumes my life, yet keeps it in me,  
Nor do I feel the danger of a dying,  
And if I but endure to hear the curses  
Of this fell Tyrant dead, I have half my heaven.  Are. 
Hold thy soul fast but four hours Phidias,  
And thou shalt see to wishes beyond ours,  
Nay more beyond our meanings.  Phi. 
Thou hast steeled me:  
Farewell Aretus, and the souls of good men,  
That as ours do, have left their Roman bodies  
In brave revenge for virtue, guide our shadows.  
I would not faint yet.  Are. 
Farewell Phidias  
And as we have done nobly, gods look on us. — Exeunt severally.   

Scaen. 2.  Enter Lycias, and Proculus. Lycias 
Sicker, and sicker Proculus?  Pro. 
Oh Lycias,  
What shall become of us? would we had died  
With happy Chilax, or with Balbus, bedrid — Enter Lycinius.  
And made too lame for justice.  Lycinius. 
The soft Music;  
And let one sing to fasten sleep upon him:  
Oh friends, the Emperor.  Pro. 
What say the Doctors?  Lycin. 
For us a most sad saying, he is poisoned,  
Beyond all cure too.  Lyc. 
Who?  Lycin. 
The wretch Aretus,  
That most unhappy villain.  Lyc. 
How do you know it?  Lyci. 
He gave him drink last: let's disperse and find him;  
And since he has opened misery to all,  
Let it begin with him first: Softly he slumbers.  — Enter Emperor sick in a Chair, with Eudoxia, the Empress, and Physicians, and Attendants. 

Music and Song.  
Care charming sleep, thou easer of all woes,  
Brother to death, sweetly thy life dispose  
On this afflicted Prince, fall like a Cloud  
In gentle showers, give nothing that is loud,  
Or painful to her slumbers; easy, sweet,  
And as a purling stream, thou son of night,  
Pass by his troubled senses; sings his pain  
Like hollow murmuring wind, or silver Rain?  
into this gently, Oh gently slide,  
And kiss him into slumbers like a Bride.   Emp. 
Oh gods, gods: drink, drink, colder, colder  
Than snow on Scythian Mountains: o my heart strings.  Eudox. 
How does your Grace.  Phis. 
The Empress speaks Sir;  Emp. 
Dying,  
Dying Eudoxa, dying.  Phys. 
Good Sir patience;  Eudox. 
What have ye given him?  Phys. 
Precious things dear Lady  
We hope shall comfort him.  Emp. 
O flattered fool,  
See what thy godheads come to: Oh Eudoxa.  Eudox. 
O patience, patience Sir.  Emp. 
Danubius,  
I'll have brought through my body. — Enter Proculus, Licinius with Aretus.  Eudox. 
Gods give comfort.  Em. 
And Volga, on whose face the North freezes,  
I and an hundred hells, an hundred Piles  
Already to my Funerals are flaming,  
Shall I not drink?  Phys. 
You must not Sir.  Emp. 
By heaven  
I'll let my breath out that shall burn ye all  
If ye deny me longer: tempests blow me,  
And inundations that have drunk up kingdoms  
Flow over me, and quench me: where's the Villain?  
Am I immortal now ye slaves? by Numa  
If he do scape: Oh, oh,  Eudox. 
Dear Sir;  Emp. 
Like Nero,  
But far more terrible, and full of slaughter,  
I'th' midst of all my flames I'll fire the Empire:  
A thousand fans, a thousand fans to cool me:  
Invite the gentle winds Eudoxa.  Eudox. 
Sir;  Emp. 
Oh do not flatter me, I am but flesh,  
A man, a mortal man: drink, drink, ye dunces;  
What can your doses now do, and your scrapings,  
Your oils, and Mithridates? if I do die,  
You only words of health, and names of sickness  
Finding no true disease in man but money,  
That talk yourselves into Revenues, oh  
And ere ye kill your patients, beggar 'em,  
I'll have ye flayed, and dried.  Pro: 
The Villain Sir;  
The most accursed wretch,  Emp. 
Be gone my Queen,  
This is no sight for thee: go to the Vestals,  
Cast holy incense in the fire, and offer  
One powerful sacrifice to free thy Caesar.  Pro. 
Go Go and be happy. — Exit Eudoxa.  Aretus. 
Go, but give no ease,  
The Gods have set thy last hour Valentinian,  
Thou art but man, a bad man too, a beast,  
And like a sensual bloody thing thou diest.  Pro. 
Oh— Traitor.  Are. 
Curse yourselves ye flatterers,  
And howl your miseries to come ye wretches,  
You taught him to be poisoned,  Emp. 
Yet no comfort?  Aret. 
Be not abused with Priests, nor Pothecaries,  
They cannot help thee: Thou hast now to live  
A short half hour, no more, and I ten minutes:  
I gave thee poison for Aecius sake,  
Such a destroying poison would kill nature;  
And for thou shalt not die alone, I took it.  
If mankind had been in thee at this murder,  
No more to people earth again, the wings  
Of old time chipped for ever, reason lost,  
In what I had attempted, yet o Caesar.  
To purchase fair revenge, I had poisoned them too.  Emp. 
Oh villain: I grow hotter, hotter,  Are. 
Yes;  
But not near my heat yet; what thou feel'st now,  
Mark me with horror Caesar, are but Embers  
Of lust and lechery thou hast committed:  
But there be flames of murder.  Emp. 
Fetch out tortures.  Are. 
Do, and I'll flatter thee, nay more I'll love thee:  
Thy tortures to what now I suffer Caesar,  
At which thou must arrive too, ere thou diest,  
Are lighter, and more full of mirth than laughter.  Emp. 
Let 'em alone: I must drink.  Are. 
Now be mad.  
But not near me yet.  Emp. 
Hold me, hold me, hold me,  
Hold me; or I shalt burst else.  Are. 
See me Cesar,  
And see to what thou must come for thy murder;  
Millions of women's labours, all diseases.  Emp. 
Oh my afflicted soul too,  Are. 
Women's fears, horrors,  
Despairs, and all the Plagues the hot Sun breeds.—  Emp. 
Aecius, o Aecius: o Lucyna,  Are. 
Are but my torments shadows.  Emp. 
Hide me mountains;  
The gods have found my sins:  
Now break.  Are. 
Not yet Sir;  
Thou hast a pull beyond all these.  Emp. 
Oh hell,  
Oh villain, cursed villain:  Are. 
O brave villain,  
My poison dances in me at this deed:  
Now Cesar, now behold me, this is torment,  
And this is thine before thou diest, I am wildfire:  
The brazen Bull of Phalaris was feigned,  
The miseries of souls despising Heaven,  
But Emblems of my torments.  Emp. 
Oh quench me, quench me, quench me.  Are. 
Fire a flattery;  
And all the poet's tales of sad Avernus,  
To my pains less than fictions: Yet to show thee  
What constant love I bore my murdered master;  
Like a Southwind, I have sung through all these tempests  
My heart, my withered heart, fear, fear thou Monster,  
Fear the just gods, I have my peace. — He dies.  Emp. 
More drink,  
A thousand April showers fall in my bosom:  
How dare ye let me be tormented thus?  
Away with that prodigious body, gods,  
Gods, let me ask ye what I am, ye lay  
All your inflictions on me, hear me, hear me;  
I do confess I am a ravisher,  
A murderer, a hated Cesar; oh.  
Are there not vows enough, and flaming Altars,  
The fat of all the world for sacrifice.  
And where that fails, the blood of thousand captives  
To purge those sins? but I must make the incense:  
I do despise ye all, ye have to mercy,  
And wanting that, ye are no Gods, your parole  
Is only preached abroad to make Fools fearful,  
And women made of awe, believe your heaven:  
Oh torments, torments, torments, pains above pains,  
If ye be any thing but dreams, and guests,  
and truly hold the guidance of things mortal;  
Have in yourselves times past, to come, and present,  
Fashion the souls of men, and make flesh for 'em,  
Weighing our fates, and fortunes beyond reason,  
Be more than all the Gods, great in forgiveness,  
Break not the goodly frame ye build in anger;  
For you are things men teach us, without passions,  
Give me an hour to know ye in: Oh save me  
But so much perfect time ye make a soul in,  
Take this destruction from me; no ye cannot,  
The more I would believe ye, more I suffer,  
My brains are ashes, now my heart, my eyes friends;  
I go, I go, more air, more air; I am mortal. — He dies.  Pro. 
Take in the body: oh Lycinius,  
The misery that we are left to suffer;  
No pity shall find us,  Licini. 
Our lives deserve none:  
Would I were chained again to slavery,  
With any hope of life.  Pro. 
A quiet grave,  
Or a consumption now Lycinius,  
That we might be too poor to kill, were something.  Lycini. 
Let's make our best use, we have money Proculus,  
And if that cannot save us, we have swords.  Pro. 
Yes, but we dare not die.  Lyc. 
I had forgot that:  
There's other countries then.  Pro. 
But the same hate still,  
Of what we are.  Lyci. 
Think any thing, I'll follow — Enter a Messenger.  Pro. 
How now what news?  Mess. 
Shift for yourselves, ye are lost else:  
The Soldier is in arms for great Aecius,  
And their Lieutenant general that stopped 'em,  
Cut in a thousand pieces: they march hither:  
Beside, the women of the Town have murdered  
Phorba, and loose Ardelia, Caesar's she-bawds.  Lyci. 
Then here's no staying Proculus?  Pro. 
O Caesar,  
That we had never known thy lusts: Let's fly,  
And where we find no woman's man let's die. — Exeunt   

Scaen. 3.  Enter Maximus. Max. 
Gods, what a sluice of blood have I let open!  
My happy ends are come to birth, he's dead,  
And I revenged; the Empires all afire,  
And desolation everywhere inhabits:  
And shall I live that am the author of it,  
To know Rome from the awe o'th' world, the pity?  
My friends are gone before too of my sending,  
And shall I stay? is ought else to be lived for?  
Is there another friend, another wife,  
Or any third holds half their worthiness,  
To linger here alive for? Is not virtue  
In their two everlasting souls departed,  
And in their bodies' first flame fled to heaven?  
Can any man discover this, and love me?  
For though my justice were as white as truth,  
My way was crooked to it, that condemns me:  
And now Aecius, and my honoured Lady,  
That were preparers to my rest and quiet,  
The lines to lead me to Elysium:  
You that but stepped before me, on assurance  
I would not leave your friendship unrewarded,  
First smile upon the sacrifice I have sent ye,  
Then see me coming boldly: stay, I am foolish,  
Somewhat too sudden to mine own destruction,  
This great end of my vengeance may grow greater:  
Why may not I be Caesar? Yet no dying;  
Why should not I catch at it? fools and children  
Have had that strength before me, and obtained it,  
And as the danger stands, my reason bids me,  
I will, I dare; my dear friends pardon me,  
I am not fit to die yet if not Caesar;  
I am sure the Soldier loves me, and the people,  
And I will forward, and as goodly Cedars  
Rent from Oeta by a sweeping tempest  
Winted again and made tall masses, defy  
Those angry winds that split 'em, so will I  
new piece again, above the fate of women,  
And made more perfect far, then growing private,  
Stand and defy bad fortunes: If I rise,  
My wife was ravished well; If then I fall,  
My great attempt honours my Funeral. — Exit.   

Scaen. 4.  Enter 3 Senators, and Affranius. 1. 
Guard all the posterns to the Camp Affranius,  
And see 'em fast, we shall be rifled else,  
Thou art an honest, and a worthy Captain.  2. 
Promise the Soldier any thing,  3. 
Speak gently,  
And tell'em we are now in council for 'em.  
Labouring to choose a Caesar fit for them,  
A Soldier, and a giver.  1. 
Tell 'em further,  
Their free and liberal voices shall go with us.  2. 
Nay more, a negative say we allow 'em.  3. 
And if our choice displease 'em, they shall name him.  1. 
Promise three donatives, and large, Affranius.  2. 
And Caesar once elected, present foes,  
With distribution of all necessaries,  
Corn, Wine, and Oil.  3. 
New garments, and new Arms,  
And equal portions of the Provinces  
To them, and to their families for ever.  1. 
And see the City strengthened.  Affra. 
I shall do it, — Exit Affranius.  2. 
Sempronius, these are woeful times.  3. 
O Brutus,  
We want thy honesty again; these Caesars,  
What noble Consuls got with blood, in blood  
Consume again, and scatter.  1. 
Which way shall we?  2. 
Not any way of safety I can think on.  3. 
Now go our Wives to ruin, and our daughters,  
And we beholders Fulvius.  1. 
Every thing  
Is every man's that will.  2. 
The vestals now  
Must only feed the soldier's fire of lust,  
And sensual Gods be glutted with those Offerings,  
Age like the hidden bowels of the earth  
Opened with swords for Treasure.  
Gods defend us,  
We are chaff before their fury else.  2. 
Away,  
Let's to the Temples.  1. 
To the Capitol,  
'tis not a time to pray now, let's be strengthened — Enter Affranius.  3. 
How now Affranius: what good news,  Affr. 
A Cesar:  1. 
Oh who?  Affr. 
Lord Maximus is with the Soldier,  
And all the Camp rings, Cesar, Cesar, Cesar:  
He forced the Empress with him for more honour.  2. 
A happy choice: let's meet him.  3. 
Blessed fortune;  1. 
Away, away, make room there, room there, room.  — Exeunt Senators, Flourish. 
Within .Lord Maximus is Cesar, Cesar, Cesar;  
Hail Cesar Maximus.  Affr. 
Oh turning people!  
Oh people excellent in war, and governed,  
In peace more raging than the furious North,  
When he ploughs up the Sea, and makes him brine:  
Or the loud falls of Nile; I must give way,  
Although I neither love nor hope this. Caesar flourish.  
Or like a rotten bridge that dares a current,  
When he is swollen and high cracked, and farewell.  Enter Maximus, Eudoxa, Senat. and Soldiers. Sen. 
Room for the Emperor.  Sold. 
Long life to Cesar:  Affr. 
Haile Cesar Maximus.  Emp. Max. 
Your hand Affranius.  
Lead to the Palace, there my thanks in general,  
I'll shower among ye all: gods give me life,  
First to defend the Empire, than you Fathers,  
And valiant friends, the heirs of strength and virtue,  
The rampires of old Rome, of us the refuge;  
To you I open this day all I have,  
Even all the hazard that my youth hath purchased,  
Ye are my children, family, and friends  
And ever so respected shall be, forward.  
there's a Prescription grave Sempronius,  
'gainst all the flatterers, and lazy Bawds  
Led loose-lived Valentinian to his vices,  
See it effected; — Flourish.  Sen. 
Honour wait on Cesar.  Sold. 
Make room for Cesar there — Exeunt all but Affr.  Affr. 
Thou hast my fears,  
But Valentinian keeps my vows: oh gods,  
Why do we like to feed the greedy Raven  
Of these blown men, that must before they stand,  
And fixed in eminence, cast life on life,  
And trench their safeties in with wounds, and bodies?  
Well froward Rome, thou wilt grow weak with changing  
And die without an Heir, that lov'st to breed  
Sons for the killing hate of sons: for me,  
I only live to find an enemy. — Exit.   

Scaen. 5.  Enter Paulus (a Poet) and Lycippus, (a Gent.) Pau. 
When is the Inauguration?  Lyc. 
Why tomorrow.  Paul. 
'twill be short time.  Lyc. 
Any device that's handsome,  
A Cupid, or the God o'th' place will do it,  
Where he must take the Fasces.  Pau. 
Or a Grace.  Lyc. 
A good Grace has no fellow.  Pau. 
Let me see,  
Will not his name yield something? Maximus  
byth' way of Anagram? I have found out Axis,  
You know he bears the Empire.  Lyc. 
Get him wheels too,  
'twill be a cruel carriage else.  Pau. 
Some songs too.  Lyc. 
By any means some songs: but very short ones,  
And honest language Paulus, without bursting,  
The air will fall the sweeter.  Pau. 
A Grace must do it.  Lyc. 
Why let a Grace then.  Pau. 
Yes it must be so;  
And in a robe of blue too, as I take it.  Lyc. 
This poet is a little kin toth' Painter  
That could paint nothing but a ramping Lion,  
So all his learned fancies are blue Graces.  Pau. 
What think ye of a seanymph, and a heaven?  Lyc. 
Why what should she do there man? there's no water.  Pau. 
byth' mass that's true, it must be a grace, and yet  
methinks a Rainbow.  Luy. 
And in blue,  Pau. 
Oh yes;  
Hanging in arch above him, and i'th' middle  Lyc. 
A shower of rain.  Pau. 
No, no, it must be a Grace,  Lyc. 
Why prithee Grace him then.  Pau. 
Or Orpheus,  
Coming from hell.  Lyc. 
In blue too.  Pau. 
'tis the better;  
And as he rises, full of fires.  Lyc. 
Now bless us,  
Will not that spoil his Lute strings Paulus?  Pau. 
Singing,  
And crossing of his arms.  Lyc. 
How can he play then?  Pau. 
It shall be a Grace, I'll do it:  Lyc. 
Prithee do,  
And with as good a grace as thou canst possible;  
Good fury Paulus, be i'th' morning with me,  
And pray take measure of his mouth that speaks it. Exeunt   

Scaen. 6.  Enter Maximus and Eudoxa. Max. 
Come my best loved Eudoxa: Let the Soldier  
Want neither Wine nor any thing he call for,  
And when the senate's ready, give us notice;  
In the mean time leave us,  
Oh my dear sweet.  Eud. 
Is't possible your Grace  
Should undertake such dangers for my beauty,  
If it were excellent?  Max. 
By heaven 'tis all  
The world has left to brag of.  Eud. 
Can a face  
Long since bequeathed to wrinkled with my sorrows,  
Long since razed out o'th' book of youth and pleasure,  
Have power to make the strongest man o'th' Empire,  
Nay the most stayed, and knowing what is woman:  
The greatest aim of perfectness men lived by,  
The most true constant lover of his wedlock,  
Such a still blowing beauty, earth was proud of,  
Lose such a noble wife, and wilfully;  
Himself prepare the way, nay make the rape.  
Did ye not tell me so?  Max. 
'tis true Eudoxa.  Eud. 
Lay desolate his dearest piece of friendship,  
Break his strong helm he steered by, sink that virtue,  
That valour, that even all the gods can give us,  
Without whom he was nothing, with whom worthiest,  
Nay more arrive at Cesar, and kill him too,  
And for my sake? either ye love too dearly,  
Or deeply ye dissemble Sir?  Max. 
I do so;  
And till I am more strengthened, so I must do;  
Yet would my joy, and wine had fashioned out  
Some safer lie: Can these things be Eudoxa,  
And I dissemble? Can there be but goodness  
And only thine dear Lady, any end,  
Any imagination but a lost one,  
Why I should run this hazard? O thou virtue!  
Were it to do again, and Valentinian  
Once more to hold thee sinful Valentinian,  
In whom thou wert set, as pearls are in salt Oysters,  
As Roses are in rank weeds, I would find,  
Yet to thy sacred self a dearer danger,  
The God's know how I honour thee.  Eud. 
What love Sir?  
Can I return for this, but my obedience;  
My life, if so you please, and 'tis too little.  Max. 
'tis too much to redeem the world.  Eud. 
From this hour,  
The sorrows for my dead Lord, fareyewell,  
My living Lord has dried ye; And in token,  
As Emperor this day I honour ye,  
And the great caster new of all my wishes,  
The wreath of living Laurel, that must compass  
That sacred head, Eudoxa makes for Cesar:  
I am methinks too much in love with fortune;  
But with you ever Royal Sir my maker,  
The once more Summer of me, mere in love,  
Is poor expression of my doting.  Max. 
Sweetest,  Eud. 
Now of my troth ye have bought me dear Sir;  Max. 
No,  
Had I at loss of mankind — Enter a Messenger.  Eud. 
Now ye flatter.  Mess. 
The Senate waits your Grace,  Max. 
Let 'em come on,  
And in a full form bring the ceremony:  
This day I am your servant (dear) and proudly,  
I'll wear your honoured favour.  Eud. 
May it prove so. — Exeunt.   

Scaen. 7.  Enter Paulus, and Lycippus. Lyc. 
Is your Grace done?  Pau. 
'tis done.  Lyc. 
Who speaks?  Pau. 
A Boy:  Lyc. 
A dainty blue Boy Paulus?  Pau. 
Yes;  Lyc. 
Have ye viewed  
The work above?  Pau. 
Yes, and all up, and ready:  Lyc. 
The Empress does you simple honour Paulus,  
The wreath your blue Grace must present, she made.  
But hark ye, for the Soldiers?  Pau. 
That's done too:  
I'll bring 'em in I warrant ye.  Lyc. 
A Grace too?  Pau. 
The same Grace serves for both.  Lyc. 
About it then:  
I must toth' Cupboard; and be sure good Paulus  
Your Grace be fasting, that he may hang cleanly:  
If there should need another voice, what then?  Paul. 
I'll hang another Grace in,  Lyc. 
Grace be with ye. — Exeunt.   

Scaen. 2.  Enter in state Maximus, Eudoxa, with Soldiers and Gentlemen of Rome, the Senators, and Rods and Axes borne before them. A Synnet with Trumpets. With a Banquet prepared, with Hoboies, Music, Song, wreath. Sen. Semp. 3. 
Haile to thy imperial honour sacred Cesar,  
And from the old Rome take these wishes;  
You holy gods, that hitherto have held  
As justice holds her Balance equal poised,  
This glory of our Nation, this full Roman,  
And made him fit for what he is, confirm him:  
Look on this Son o jupiter our helper,  
And Romulus, thou Father of our honour,  
Preserve him like thyself, just, valiant, noble,  
A lover, and increaser of his people,  
Let him begin with Numa, stand with Cato,  
The first five years of Nero be his wishes,  
Give him the age and fortune of Emelius,  
And his whole reign, renew a great Augustus.  

SONG.  
Honour that is ever living,  
Honour that is ever giving,  
Honour that sees all and knows,  
Both the ebbs of man and flows,  
Honour that rewards the best,  
Sends thee thy rich labour's rest;  
Thou hast studied still to please her,  
Therefore now she calls thee Cesar:  
Chorus. Hail, hail, Caesar, hail and stand,  
And thy name out live the Land,  
Noble fathers to his brows,  
Bind this wreath with thousand vows.   All. 
Stand to eternity:  Max. 
I thank ye fathers,  
And as I rule, may it still grow or wither:  
Now to the banquet, ye are all my guests,  
This day be liberal friends, to wine we give it;  
And smiling pleasures: Sit my Queen of beauty;  
Fathers your places: These are fair Wars Soldiers,  
And thus I give the first charge to ye all;  
You are my second (sweet) to every cup,  
I add unto the Senate, a new honour,  
And to the sons of Mars a donative.  

SONG.  
God Lizus ever young,  
Ever honoured ever sung;  
Stained with blood of lusty Grapes,  
In a thousand lusty shapes;  
Dance upon the Mazer's brim,  
In the Crimson liquour Swim  
From thy plenteous hand divine,  
Let a River run with Wine;  
God of youth, let this day here,  
Enter neither care nor fear.   Boy. 
Bellonia's seed, the glory of old Rome,  
Envy of conquered Nations, nobly come  
And to the fullness of your warlike noise,  
Let your feet move, make up this hour of joys;  
Come, come I say, range your fair Troop, at large,  
And your by measure turn into a charge.  Semp. 
The Emperor's grown heavy with his wine,  Affr. 
The Senate stays Sir for your thanks,  Semp. 
Great Cesar.  Eud. 
I have my wish:  Affr. 
willt please your Grace speak to him.  Eud. 
Yes, but he will not hear Lords.  Semp. 
Stir him Lucius; the Senate must have thanks.  2. Sen. Luc. 
Your Grace, Sir Cesar;  Eud. 
Did I not tell you he was well: he's dead,  Semp. 
Dead? treason, guard the Court, let no man pass,  
Soldiers, your Caesar's murdered.  Eud. 
Make no tumult,  
Nor arm the Court, ye have his killer with ye;  
And the just cause, if ye can stay the hearing:  
I was his death; That wreath that made him Cesar,  
Has made him earth.  Sold. 
Cut her in thousand pieces.  Eud. 
Wise men would know the reason first: to die,  
Is that I wish for Romans, and your swords,  
The heaviest way of death: yet Soldiers grant me  
That was your Empress once, and honour by ye;  
But so much time to tell ye why I killed him,  
And weigh my reasons well, if man be in you;  
Then if ye dare do cruelly condemn me.  Affr. 
Hear her ye noble Romans, 'tis a woman,  
A subject not for swords, but pity: Heaven  
If she be guilty of malicious murder,  
H'as given us laws to make example of her,  
If only of revenge, and blood hid from us,  
Let us consider first, then execute.  Semp. 
Speak bloody woman.  Eud. 
Yes; This Maximus,  
That was your Cesar, Lords, and noble Soldiers;  
(And if I wrong the dead, heaven perish me;  
Or speak to win your favours but the truth)  
Was to his Country, to his friends, and Cesar  
A most malicious Traitor.  Semp. 
Take heed woman.  Eud. 
I speak not for compassion. Brave Aecius  
(Whose blessed soul if I lie shall afflict me,)  
The man that all the world loved, you adored,  
That was the master piece of Arms, and bounty;  
Mine own grief shall come last: this friend of his,  
This Soldier, this your right Arm noble Romans:  
By a base letter to the Emperor;  
Stuffed full of fears, and poor suggestions,  
And by himself, unto himself directed;  
Was cut off basely, basely, cruelly;  
Oh loss, o innocent, can ye now kill me?  
And the poor stale my Noble Lord, that knew not  
More of this villain, than his forced fears;  
Like one foreseen to satisfy, died for it:  
There was a murder too, Rome would have blush at;  
Was this worth being Cesar? or my patience? nay his wife  
By heaven he told it me in wine, and joy;  
And swore it deeply, he himself prepared  
To be abused, how? let me grieve not tell ye;  
And weep the sins that did yet: and his end  
Was only me, and Cesar: But me he lid in;  
These are my reasons Romans, and my soul  
Tells me sufficient; and my deed is justice:  
Now as I have done well, or ill, look on me.  Affr. 
What less could nature do, what less had we done,  
Had we known this before? Romans, she is righteous;  
And such a piece of justice, heaven must smile on:  
Bend all your swords on me, if this displease ye,  
For I must kneel, and on this virtuous hand;  
Seal my new joy and thanks, thou hast done truly.  Semp. 
Up with your arms, ye strike a Saint else Romans,  
May'st thou live ever spoken our protector:  
Rome yet has many noble heirs: Let's in  
And pray before we choose, then plant a Cesar  
Above the reach of envy, blood, and murder.  Affr. 
Take up the body, nobly to his urn,  
And may our sins, and his together burn. — Exeunt. A dead March.     

epilogue.  
We would fain please ye, and as fain be pleased;  
'tis but a little liking, both are eased:  
we have your money, and you have our ware,  
And to our understanding good and fair:  
For your own wisdom's sake, be not so mad,  
To acknowledge ye have bought things dear and bad:  
Let not a brack th' stuff, or here and there,  
The fading gloss, a general loss appear:  
We know ye take up worse Commodities,  
And dearer pay, yet think your bargains wise;  
we know in Meat and Wine, ye fling away  
More time and wealth, which is but dearer pay,  
And with the Reckoning all the pleasure lost.  
We bid ye not unto repenting cost:  
The price is easy, and so light the Play,  
That ye may new digest it every day.  
Then noble friends, as ye would choose a Mistress,  
Only to please the eye a while and kiss,  
Till a good wife be got: So let this Play  
Hold ye a while, until a better may.