Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.
Enter Phidias, with his dagger in him, and Aretus, poyson'd.
Are. He has his last.
Phi. Then come the worst of danger,
Æcius to thy soul we give a Cæsar.
How long is't since ye gave it him?
Æcius to thy soul we give a Cæsar.
How long is't since ye gave it him?
Are. An hour,
Mine own two hours before him: how it boils me!
Mine own two hours before him: how it boils me!
Phi. It was not to be cur'd I hope.
Are. No Phidias,
I dealt above his Antidotes: Physicians
May find the cause, but where the cure?
I dealt above his Antidotes: Physicians
May find the cause, but where the cure?
Phi. Done bravely,
We are got before his Tyranny Aretus.
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 bloud alone, and not in's wishes,
And yet I swell, and burn like flaming Ætna,
A thousand new found fires are kindled in me,
But yet I must not die this four hours Phidias.
Anger would give me leave, to live an age yet;
That man is poorly spirited, whose life
Runs in his bloud alone, and not in's wishes,
And yet I swell, and burn like flaming Ætna,
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 poyson pleasure,
And my most killing torments mistresses.
For how can he have time to dye, or pleasure
That falls as fools unsatisfied, and simple?
Of what I have done, and why, makes poyson pleasure,
And my most killing torments mistresses.
For how can he have time to dye, 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.
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.
And thou shalt see to wishes beyond ours,
Nay more beyond our meanings.
Phi. Thou hast steel'd me:
Farewel Aretus, and the souls of good men,
That as ours do, have left their Roman bodies
In brave revenge for vertue, guide our shadows,
I would not faint yet.
Farewel Aretus, and the souls of good men,
That as ours do, have left their Roman bodies
In brave revenge for vertue, guide our shadows,
I would not faint yet.
Are. Farewel Phidias
And as we have done nobly, gods look on us.—
And as we have done nobly, gods look on us.—
[Exeunt severally.
SCENE II.
Enter Lycias, and Proculus.
Lyci. Sicker, and sicker Proculus?
Pro. Oh Lycias,
What shall become of us? would we had di'd
With happy Chilax, or with Balbus, bedrid—
What shall become of us? would we had di'd
With happy Chilax, or with Balbus, bedrid—
Enter Licinius.
And made too lame for justice.
Licinius. The soft Musick;
And let one sing to fasten sleep upon him:
Oh friends, the Emperour.
And let one sing to fasten sleep upon him:
Oh friends, the Emperour.
Lici. For us a most sad saying, he is poyson'd,
Beyond all cure too.
Beyond all cure too.
L[y]ci. Who?
Lici. The wretch Aretus,
That most unhappy villain.
That most unhappy villain.
L[y]ci. How do you know it?
L[i]ci. 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.
And since he has opened misery to all,
Let it begin with him first: Softly he slumbers.
Enter Emperour, sick in a Chair, with Eudoxia the Empress, and Physicians, and Attendants.
Musick and SONG.
Care charming sleep, thou easer of all woes,
Brother to death, sweetly thy self dispose
On this afflicted Prince, fall like a Cloud
In gentle showrs, give nothing that is lowd,
Or painfull to his slumbers; easie, sweet,
And as a purling stream, thou son of night,
Pass by his troubled senses; sing his pain
Like hollow murmuring wind, or silver Rain,
Into this Prince gently, Oh gently slide,
And kiss him into slumbers like a Bride.
Brother to death, sweetly thy self dispose
On this afflicted Prince, fall like a Cloud
In gentle showrs, give nothing that is lowd,
Or painfull to his slumbers; easie, sweet,
And as a purling stream, thou son of night,
Pass by his troubled senses; sing his pain
Like hollow murmuring wind, or silver Rain,
Into this Prince gently, Oh gently slide,
And kiss him into slumbers like a Bride.
Emp. O gods, gods: drink, drink, colder, colder
Than snow on Scythian Mountains: O my heart-strings.
Than snow on Scythian Mountains: O my heart-strings.
Eudo. How does your Grace?
Phys. The Empress speaks Sir.
Emp. Dying,
Dying Eudoxia, dying.
Dying Eudoxia, dying.
Phys. Good Sir patience.
Eudo. What have ye given him?
Phys. Pretious things dear Lady
We hope shall comfort him.
We hope shall comfort him.
Emp. O flatter'd fool,
See what thy god-head's come to: Oh Eudoxia.
See what thy god-head's come to: Oh Eudoxia.
Eudo. O patience, patience Sir.
Enter Proculus, Licinius, with Aretus.
Emp. Danubius
I'le have brought through my body.
I'le have brought through my body.
Eudo. Gods give comfort.
Emp. And Volga, on whose face the North wind freezes,
I find an hundred hells, a hundred Piles
Already to my Funerals are flaming,
Shall I not drink?
I find an hundred hells, a hundred Piles
Already to my Funerals are flaming,
Shall I not drink?
Phys. You must not Sir.
Emp. By Heaven
I'le 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.
I'le 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.
Eudo. Dear Sir.
Emp. Like Nero,
But far more terrible, and full of slaughter,
I'th' midst of all my flames I'le fire the Empire:
A thousand fans, a thousand fans to cool me:
Invite the gentle winds Eudoxia.
But far more terrible, and full of slaughter,
I'th' midst of all my flames I'le fire the Empire:
A thousand fans, a thousand fans to cool me:
Invite the gentle winds Eudoxia.
Eudo. 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 oyles, and Mithridates? if I do die,
You only words of health, and names of sickness
Finding no true disease in man but mony,
That talk your selves into Revenues, oh
And e're ye kill your patients, begger 'em,
I'le have ye flead, and dri'd.
A man, a mortal man: drink, drink, ye dunces;
What can your doses now do, and your scrapings,
Your oyles, and Mithridates? if I do die,
You only words of health, and names of sickness
Finding no true disease in man but mony,
That talk your selves into Revenues, oh
And e're ye kill your patients, begger 'em,
I'le have ye flead, and dri'd.
Pro. The Villain Sir;
The most accursed wretch.
The most accursed wretch.
Emp. Be gone my Queen,
This is no sight for thee: goe to the Vestals,
Cast holy incense in the fire, and offer
One powerfull sacrifice to free thy Cæsar.
This is no sight for thee: goe to the Vestals,
Cast holy incense in the fire, and offer
One powerfull sacrifice to free thy Cæsar.
Aret. Goe, 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 sensuall bloudy thing thou diest.
The Gods have set thy last hour Valentinian,
Thou art but man, a bad man too, a beast,
And like a sensuall bloudy thing thou diest.
Pro. Oh Traitor.
Aret. Curse your selves ye flatterers,
And howle your miseries to come ye wretches,
You taught him to be poyson'd.
And howle your miseries to come ye wretches,
You taught him to be poyson'd.
Emp. Yet no comfort?
Aret. Be not abus'd 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 poyson for Aecius sake,
Such a destroying poyson 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 clipt for ever, reason lost,
In what I had attempted, yet O Cæsar
To purchase fair revenge, I had poyson'd them too.
They cannot help thee; Thou hast now to live
A short half hour, no more, and I ten minutes:
I gave thee poyson for Aecius sake,
Such a destroying poyson 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 clipt for ever, reason lost,
In what I had attempted, yet O Cæsar
To purchase fair revenge, I had poyson'd them too.
Emp. O villain: I grow hotter, hotter.
Are. Yes;
But not near my heat yet; what thou feel'st now,
Mark me with horror Cæsar, are but Embers
Of lust and leachery thou hast committed:
But there be flames of murder.
But not near my heat yet; what thou feel'st now,
Mark me with horror Cæsar, are but Embers
Of lust and leachery thou hast committed:
But there be flames of murder.
Emp. Fetch out tortures.
Are. Do, and I'le flatter thee, nay more I'll love thee:
Thy tortures to what now I suffer Cæsar,
At which thou must arrive too, e're thou dy'st,
Are lighter, and more full of mirth and laughter.
Thy tortures to what now I suffer Cæsar,
At which thou must arrive too, e're thou dy'st,
Are lighter, and more full of mirth and laughter.
Emp. Let 'em alone: I must drink.
Are. Now be mad,
But not near me yet.
But not near me yet.
Emp. Hold me, hold me, hold me,
Hold me; or I shall burst else.
Hold me; or I shall burst else.
Are. See me Cæsar,
And see to what thou must come for thy murder;
Millions of womens labours, all diseases.
And see to what thou must come for thy murder;
Millions of womens labours, all diseases.
Are. Womens fears, horrors,
Despairs, and all the Plagues the hot Sun breeds.—
Despairs, and all the Plagues the hot Sun breeds.—
Emp. Æcius, O Aecius: O Lucina.
Are. Are but my torments shadows?
Emp. Hide me mountains;
The gods have found my sins:
Now break.
The gods have found my sins:
Now break.
Are. Not yet Sir;
Thou hast a pull beyond all these.
Thou hast a pull beyond all these.
Emp. Oh Hell,
Oh villain, cursed villain.
Oh villain, cursed villain.
Are. O brave villain,
My poyson dances in me at this deed:
Now Cæsar, now behold me, this is torment,
And this is thine before thou diest, I am wildfire:
The brazen Bull of Phalaris was feign'd,
The miseries of souls despising Heaven
But Emblems of my torments.
My poyson dances in me at this deed:
Now Cæsar, now behold me, this is torment,
And this is thine before thou diest, I am wildfire:
The brazen Bull of Phalaris was feign'd,
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 Poets tales of sad Avernus,
To my pains less than fictions: Yet to shew thee
What constant love I bore my murdred master;
Like a Southwind, I have sung through all these tempests
My heart, my wither'd heart, fear, fear thou Monster,
Fear the just gods, I have my peace.— [He dies.
And all the Poets tales of sad Avernus,
To my pains less than fictions: Yet to shew thee
What constant love I bore my murdred master;
Like a Southwind, I have sung through all these tempests
My heart, my wither'd heart, fear, fear thou Monster,
Fear the just gods, I have my peace.— [He dies.
Emp. More drink,
A thousand April showres 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 Cæsar; 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 no mercy,
And wanting that, ye are no Gods, your paroll
Is only preach'd abroad to make Fools fearfull,
And women made of awe, believe your heaven:
Oh torments, torments, torments, pains above pains,
If ye be any thing but dreams, and ghosts,
And truly hold the guidance of things mortal;
Have in your selves 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 goe, I goe, more air, more air; I am mortal.— [He dyes.
A thousand April showres 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 Cæsar; 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 no mercy,
And wanting that, ye are no Gods, your paroll
Is only preach'd abroad to make Fools fearfull,
And women made of awe, believe your heaven:
Oh torments, torments, torments, pains above pains,
If ye be any thing but dreams, and ghosts,
And truly hold the guidance of things mortal;
Have in your selves 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 goe, I goe, more air, more air; I am mortal.— [He dyes.
Pro. Take in the body: oh Licinius,
The misery that we are left to suffer;
No pity shall find us.
The misery that we are left to suffer;
No pity shall find us.
Lici. Our lives deserve none:
Would I were chain'd again to slavery,
With any hope of life.
Would I were chain'd again to slavery,
With any hope of life.
Pro. A quiet grave,
Or a consumption now Licinius,
That we might be too poor to kill, were something.
Or a consumption now Licinius,
That we might be too poor to kill, were something.
Lici. Let's make our best use, we have mony Proculus,
And if that cannot save us, we have swords.
And if that cannot save us, we have swords.
Pro. Yes, but we dare not dye.
Lici. I had forgot that:
There's other countries then.
There's other countries then.
Pro. But the same hate still,
Of what we are.
Of what we are.
Lici. Think any thing, I'le follow—
Enter a Messenger.
Pro. How now, what news?
Mess. Shift for your selves, ye are lost else:
The Souldier is in arms for great Aecius,
And their Lieutenant general that stopt 'em,
Cut in a thousand pieces: they march hither:
Beside, the women of the Town have murder'd
Phorba, and loose Ardelia, Cæsar's she-Bawds.
The Souldier is in arms for great Aecius,
And their Lieutenant general that stopt 'em,
Cut in a thousand pieces: they march hither:
Beside, the women of the Town have murder'd
Phorba, and loose Ardelia, Cæsar's she-Bawds.
Lici. Then here's no staying Proculus?
Pro. O Cæsar,
That we had never known thy lusts: Let's fly,
And where we find no womans man let's dye.—
That we had never known thy lusts: Let's fly,
And where we find no womans man let's dye.—
SCENE III.
Enter Maximus.
Max. Gods, what a sluce of blood have I let open!
My happy ends are come to birth, he's dead,
And I reveng'd; the Empire's all a fire,
And desolation every where 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 liv'd for?
Is there an other friend, another wife,
Or any third holds half their worthiness,
To linger here alive for? Is not vertue
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 honored Lady,
That were preparers to my rest and quiet,
The lines to lead me to Elyzium:
You that but stept 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 suddain to mine own destruction,
This great end of my veng[e]ance may grow greater:
Why may not I be Cæsar? Yet no dying;
Why should not I catch at it? fools and children
Have had that strength before me, and obtain'd it,
And as the danger stands, my reason bids me,
I will, I dare; my dear friends pardon me,
I am not fit to dye yet, if not Cæsar;
I am sure the Souldier loves me, and the people,
And I will forward, and as goodly Cedars
Rent from Oeta by a sweeping tempest
Jointed again and made tall masts, defie
Those angry winds that split 'em, so will I
New piece again, above the fate of women,
And made more perfect far, than growing private,
Stand and defie bad fortunes: If I rise,
My wife was ravish'd well; If then I fall,
My great attempt honours my Funeral.— [Exit.
My happy ends are come to birth, he's dead,
And I reveng'd; the Empire's all a fire,
And desolation every where 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 liv'd for?
Is there an other friend, another wife,
Or any third holds half their worthiness,
To linger here alive for? Is not vertue
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 honored Lady,
That were preparers to my rest and quiet,
The lines to lead me to Elyzium:
You that but stept 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 suddain to mine own destruction,
This great end of my veng[e]ance may grow greater:
Why may not I be Cæsar? Yet no dying;
Why should not I catch at it? fools and children
Have had that strength before me, and obtain'd it,
And as the danger stands, my reason bids me,
I will, I dare; my dear friends pardon me,
I am not fit to dye yet, if not Cæsar;
I am sure the Souldier loves me, and the people,
And I will forward, and as goodly Cedars
Rent from Oeta by a sweeping tempest
Jointed again and made tall masts, defie
Those angry winds that split 'em, so will I
New piece again, above the fate of women,
And made more perfect far, than growing private,
Stand and defie bad fortunes: If I rise,
My wife was ravish'd well; If then I fall,
My great attempt honours my Funeral.— [Exit.
SCENE IV.
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.
And see 'em fast, we shall be rifled else,
Thou art an honest, and a worthy Captain.
2. Promise the Souldier any thing.
3. Speak gently,
And tell 'em we are now in council for 'em,
Labouring to choose a Cæsar fit for them,
A Souldier, and a giver.
And tell 'em we are now in council for 'em,
Labouring to choose a Cæsar fit for them,
A Souldier, and a giver.
1. Tell 'em further,
Their free and liberal voices shall goe with us.
Their free and liberal voices shall goe 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 Cæsar once elected, present foes,
With distribution of all necessaries,
Corn, Wine, and Oyle.
With distribution of all necessaries,
Corn, Wine, and Oyle.
3. New garments, and new Arms,
And equal portions of the Provinces
To them, and to their families for ever.
And equal portions of the Provinces
To them, and to their families for ever.
1. And see the City strengthned.
Affra. I shall do it.— [Exit Affranius.
2. Sempronius, these are wofull times.
3. O Brutus,
We want thy honesty again; these Cæsars,
What noble Consuls got with blood, in blood
Consume again, and scatter.
We want thy honesty again; these Cæsars,
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.
And we beholders Fulvius.
1. Every thing
Is every mans that will.
Is every mans that will.
2. The Vestals now
Must only feed the Souldiers fire of lust,
And sensual Gods be glutted with those Offerings,
Age like the hidden bowels of the earth,
Open'd with swords for treasure.
Gods defend us,
We are chaff before their fury else.
Must only feed the Souldiers fire of lust,
And sensual Gods be glutted with those Offerings,
Age like the hidden bowels of the earth,
Open'd with swords for treasure.
Gods defend us,
We are chaff before their fury else.
[3] Away,
Let's to the Temples.
Let's to the Temples.
1. To the Capitol.
'Tis not a time to pray now, let's be strengthen'd—
'Tis not a time to pray now, let's be strengthen'd—
Enter Affranius.
3. How now Affranius: what good news?
Affra. A Cæsar.
1. Oh who?
Affr. Lord Maximus is with the Souldier,
And all the Camp rings, Cæsar, Cæsar, Cæsar:
He forced the Empress with him for more honour.
And all the Camp rings, Cæsar, Cæsar, Cæsar:
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 Cæsar, Cæsar, Cæsar;
Hail Cæsar Maximus.
Hail Cæsar Maximus.
Affra. Oh turning people!
Oh people excellent in war, and govern'd,
In peace more raging than the furious North,
When he ploughs up the Sea, and makes him brine,
Or the lowd falls of Nile; I must give way,
Although I neither love nor hope this:
Or like a rotten bridge that dares a current,
When he is swell'd and high crackt, and farewel.
Oh people excellent in war, and govern'd,
In peace more raging than the furious North,
When he ploughs up the Sea, and makes him brine,
Or the lowd falls of Nile; I must give way,
Although I neither love nor hope this:
Or like a rotten bridge that dares a current,
When he is swell'd and high crackt, and farewel.
Enter Maximus, Eudox[i]a, Senat. and Souldiers.
Sen. Room for the Emperour.
Soul. Long life to Cæsar.
Afra. Hail Cæsar Maximus.
Emp. Max. Your hand Afranius.
Lead to the Palace, there my thanks in general,
I'le showre among ye all: gods give me life,
First to defend the Empire, then you Fathers,
And valiant friends, the heirs of strength and vertue,
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 purchas'd,
Ye are my Children, family, and friends
And ever so respected shall be, forward.
There's a Proscription, grave Sempronius,
'Gainst all the flatterers, and lazie Bawds
Led loose-liv'd Valentinian to his vices,
See it effected. [Flourish.
Lead to the Palace, there my thanks in general,
I'le showre among ye all: gods give me life,
First to defend the Empire, then you Fathers,
And valiant friends, the heirs of strength and vertue,
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 purchas'd,
Ye are my Children, family, and friends
And ever so respected shall be, forward.
There's a Proscription, grave Sempronius,
'Gainst all the flatterers, and lazie Bawds
Led loose-liv'd Valentinian to his vices,
See it effected. [Flourish.
Sen. Honour wait on Cæsar.
Sould. Make room for Cæsar there. [Exeunt all but Afra.
Afra. Thou hast my fears,
But Valentinian keeps my vows: Oh gods,
Why do we like to feed the greedy Ravenne
Of these blown men, that must before they stand,
And fixt 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.
But Valentinian keeps my vows: Oh gods,
Why do we like to feed the greedy Ravenne
Of these blown men, that must before they stand,
And fixt 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.
SCENE V.
Enter Paulus (a Poet,) and Licippus (a Gent.)
Pau. When is the Inauguration?
Lic. Why to morrow.
Lic. Any device that's handsome,
A Cupid, or the God o'th' place will do it,
Where he must take the Fasces.
A Cupid, or the God o'th' place will do it,
Where he must take the Fasces.
Pau. Or a Grace.
Lic. A good Grace has no fellow.
Pau. Let me see,
Will not his name yield something? Maximus
By th' way of Anagram? I have found out Axis,
You know he bears the Empire.
Will not his name yield something? Maximus
By th' way of Anagram? I have found out Axis,
You know he bears the Empire.
Lic. Get him wheels too,
'Twill be a cruel carriage else.
'Twill be a cruel carriage else.
Pau. Some songs too.
Lic. By any means some songs: but very short ones,
And honest language Paulus, without bursting,
The air will fall the sweeter.
And honest language Paulus, without bursting,
The air will fall the sweeter.
Pau. A Grace must do it.
Lic. Why let a Grace then.
Pau. Yes it must be so;
And in a Robe of blew too, as I take it.
And in a Robe of blew too, as I take it.
Lic. This Poet is a little kin to th' Painter
That could paint nothing but a ramping Lion,
So all his learned fancies are blew Graces.
That could paint nothing but a ramping Lion,
So all his learned fancies are blew Graces.
Pau. What think ye of a Sea-nymph, and a Heaven?
Lic. Why what should she do there man? there's no water.
Pau. That's true, it must be a Grace, and yet
Me thinks a Rain bow.
Me thinks a Rain bow.
Lic. And in blew.
Pa[u]. Oh yes;
Hanging in arch above him, and i'th' midle—
Hanging in arch above him, and i'th' midle—
Lic. A showre of Rain.
Pau. No, no, it must be a Grace.
Lic. Why prethee Grace him then.
Pa[u]. Or Orpheus,
Coming from Hell.
Coming from Hell.
Lic. In blew too.
Pau. 'Tis the better;
And as he rises, full of fires.
And as he rises, full of fires.
Lic. Now bless us,
Will not that spoil his Lutestrings, Paulus?
Will not that spoil his Lutestrings, Paulus?
Lic. How can he play then?
Pau. It shall be a Grace, I'le do it.
Lic. Prethee 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.
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.
SCENE VI.
Enter Maximus and Eudox[i]a.
Max. Come my best lov'd Eudox[i]a: let the souldier
Want neither Wine nor any thing he calls for,
And when the Senate's ready, give us notice:
In the mean time leave us.
Oh my dear sweet.
Want neither Wine nor any thing he calls 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?
Should undertake such dangers for my beauty,
If it were excellent?
Max. 'Tis all
The world has left to brag of.
The world has left to brag of.
Eud. Can a face
Long since bequeath'd to wrinkles with my sorrows,
Long since ras'd out o'th' book of youth and pleasure,
Have power to make the strongest man o'th' Empire,
Nay the most staid, and knowing what is Woman;
The greatest aim of perfectness men liv'd 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?
Long since bequeath'd to wrinkles with my sorrows,
Long since ras'd out o'th' book of youth and pleasure,
Have power to make the strongest man o'th' Empire,
Nay the most staid, and knowing what is Woman;
The greatest aim of perfectness men liv'd 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 Eudox[i]a.
Eud. Lay desolate his dearest piece of friendship,
Break his strong helm he stear'd by, sink that vertue,
That valour, that even all the gods can give us,
Without whom he was nothing, with whom worthiest,
Nay more, arrive at Cæsar, and kill him too,
And for my sake? either ye love too dearly,
Or deeply ye dissemble, Sir?
Break his strong helm he stear'd by, sink that vertue,
That valour, that even all the gods can give us,
Without whom he was nothing, with whom worthiest,
Nay more, arrive at Cæsar, 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 strengthen'd, so I must do;
Yet would my joy, and Wine had fashion'd out
Some safer lye: Can these things be, Eudox[i]a,
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 vertue!
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 Gods know how I honour thee.
And till I am more strengthen'd, so I must do;
Yet would my joy, and Wine had fashion'd out
Some safer lye: Can these things be, Eudox[i]a,
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 vertue!
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 Gods 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.
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, fare ye well,
My living Lord has dried ye; and in token,
As Emperour this day I honour ye,
And the great caster new of all my wishes,
The wreath of living Lawrel, that must compass
That sacred head, Eudox[i]a makes for Cæsar:
I am methinks too much in love with fortune;
But with you ever Royal Sir my maker,
The once more Summer of me, meer in love,
Is poor expression of my doting.
The sorrows for my dead Lord, fare ye well,
My living Lord has dried ye; and in token,
As Emperour this day I honour ye,
And the great caster new of all my wishes,
The wreath of living Lawrel, that must compass
That sacred head, Eudox[i]a makes for Cæsar:
I am methinks too much in love with fortune;
But with you ever Royal Sir my maker,
The once more Summer of me, meer 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.
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'le wear your honoured favour.
And in a full form bring the ceremony:
This day I am your servant, dear, and proudly,
I'le wear your honoured favour.
Eud. May it prove so. [Exeunt.
SCENE VII.
Enter Paulus and Licippus.
Lic. Is your Grace done?
Pau. 'Tis done.
Lic. Who speaks?
Pau. A Boy.
Lic. A dainty blue Boy, Paulus?
Pau. Yes.
Lic. Have ye viewed
The work above?
The work above?
Pau. Yes, and all up, and ready.
Lic. The Empress does you simple honour, Paulus,
The wreath your blue Grace must present, she made.
But hark ye, for the Souldiers?
The wreath your blue Grace must present, she made.
But hark ye, for the Souldiers?
Pau. That's done too:
I'le bring 'em in I warrant ye.
I'le bring 'em in I warrant ye.
Lic. A Grace too?
Pau. The same Grace serves for both.
Lic. About it then:
I must to th' Cupbord; and be sure good Paulus
Your Grace be fasting, that he may hang cleanly.
If there should need another voice, what then?
I must to th' Cupbord; and be sure good Paulus
Your Grace be fasting, that he may hang cleanly.
If there should need another voice, what then?
Paul. I'le hang another Grace in.
Lic. Grace be with ye. [Exeunt.
SCENE VIII.
Enter in state Maximus, Eudox[i]a, with Souldiers and Gentlemen of Rome, the Senators, and Rods and Axes born before them.
| A Synnet with Trumpets. | With a Banket prepared, with Hoboies, Musick, Song, wreath. |
3 Sen. Hale to thy imperial honour sacred Cæsar,
And from the old Rome take these wishes;
You holy gods, that hitherto have held
As justice holds her Ballance equal pois'd,
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 thy self, 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 Emylius,
And his whole raign renew a great Augustus.
And from the old Rome take these wishes;
You holy gods, that hitherto have held
As justice holds her Ballance equal pois'd,
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 thy self, 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 Emylius,
And his whole raign 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 flowes,
Honour that rewards the best,
Sends thee thy rich labours rest;
Thou hast studied still to please her,
Therefore now she calls thee Cæsar:
Honour that is ever giving,
Honour that sees all and knows
Both the ebbs of man and flowes,
Honour that rewards the best,
Sends thee thy rich labours rest;
Thou hast studied still to please her,
Therefore now she calls thee Cæsar:
Chor. Hale, hale, Cæsar, hale and stand,
And thy name outlive the Land.
Noble Fathers to his brows
Bind this wreath with thousand vows.
And thy name outlive 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 Banket, 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 Souldiers,
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.
And as I rule, may it still grow or wither:
Now to the Banket, 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 Souldiers,
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 Lyeus ever young,
Ever honour'd, ever sung;
Stain'd with bloud of lusty Grapes,
In a thousand lusty shapes;
Dance upon the Mazers brim,
In the Crimson liquor swim:
From thy plenteous hand divine,
Let a River run with Wine:
God of youth, let this day here
Enter neither care nor fear.
Ever honour'd, ever sung;
Stain'd with bloud of lusty Grapes,
In a thousand lusty shapes;
Dance upon the Mazers brim,
In the Crimson liquor 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. Bellona's seed, the glory of old Rome,
Envy of conquer'd Nations, nobly come
And to the fulness of your war-like noise
Let your feet move, make up this hour of joys;
Come, come I say, range your fair Troop at large,
And your high measure turn into a charge.
Envy of conquer'd Nations, nobly come
And to the fulness of your war-like noise
Let your feet move, make up this hour of joys;
Come, come I say, range your fair Troop at large,
And your high measure turn into a charge.
Semp. The Emperor's grown heavy with his wine.
Afra. The Senate staies Sir for your thanks.
Semp. Great Cæsar.
Eud. I have my wish.
Afra. Wilt 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 Cæsar.
Eud. Did I not tell you he was well? he's dead.
Semp. Dead? treason, guard the Court, let no man pass,
Souldiers, your Cæsar's murdered.
Souldiers, your Cæsar'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 Cæsar,
Has made him earth.
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 Cæsar,
Has made him earth.
Sould. 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 Souldiers grant me
That was your Empress once, and honour'd by ye,
But so much time to tell ye why I kill'd him,
And weigh my reasons well, if man be in you;
Then if ye dare do cruelly, condemn me.
Is that I wish for, Romans, and your swords,
The heaviest way of death: yet Souldiers grant me
That was your Empress once, and honour'd by ye,
But so much time to tell ye why I kill'd him,
And weigh my reasons well, if man be in you;
Then if ye dare do cruelly, condemn me.
Afr. Hear her ye noble Romans, 'tis a Woman,
A subject not for swords, but pity: Heaven
(If she be guilty of malitious murder)
Has given us Laws to make example of her,
If only of revenge, and bloud hid from us,
Let us consider first, then execute.
A subject not for swords, but pity: Heaven
(If she be guilty of malitious murder)
Has given us Laws to make example of her,
If only of revenge, and bloud hid from us,
Let us consider first, then execute.
Semp. Speak bloudy Woman.
Eud. Yes; This Maximus,
That was your Cæsar, Lords, and noble Souldiers,
(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 Cæsar
A most malitious Traitor.
That was your Cæsar, Lords, and noble Souldiers,
(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 Cæsar
A most malitious Traitor.
Semp. Take heed woman.
Eud. I speak not for compassion. Brave Æcius
(Whose blessed soul if I lye shall afflict me)
The man that all the world lov'd, you ador'd,
That was the master-piece of Arms, and bounty;
Mine own grief shall come last: this friend of his,
This Souldier, this your right Arm, noble Romans,
By a base letter to the Emperor;
Stufft 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 forc'd fears;
Like one foreseen to satisfie, dy'd for it:
There was a murder too, Rome would have blusht at;
Was this worth being Cæsar? or my patience? nay his Wife
By Heaven he told it me in wine, and joy;
And swore it deeply, he himself prepar'd
To be abus'd, how? let me grieve not tell ye;
And weep the sins that did it: and his end
Was only me, and Cæsar: But me he lyed 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.
(Whose blessed soul if I lye shall afflict me)
The man that all the world lov'd, you ador'd,
That was the master-piece of Arms, and bounty;
Mine own grief shall come last: this friend of his,
This Souldier, this your right Arm, noble Romans,
By a base letter to the Emperor;
Stufft 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 forc'd fears;
Like one foreseen to satisfie, dy'd for it:
There was a murder too, Rome would have blusht at;
Was this worth being Cæsar? or my patience? nay his Wife
By Heaven he told it me in wine, and joy;
And swore it deeply, he himself prepar'd
To be abus'd, how? let me grieve not tell ye;
And weep the sins that did it: and his end
Was only me, and Cæsar: But me he lyed 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.
Afra. 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 vertuous hand;
Seal my new joy and thanks, thou hast done truly.
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 vertuous 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 Cæsar
Above the reach of envy, blood, and murder.
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 Cæsar
Above the reach of envy, blood, and murder.
Afra. Take up the body nobly to his urn,
And may our sins, and his together burn. [Exeunt. A dead March.
And may our sins, and his together burn. [Exeunt. A dead March.