 | Valentinian |  |
SCEN. 1.
The Scene opens, and discovers the Emperor at Dice.Maximus. Lycin. Proc. and Chylax.
Emp.
Nay! set my Hand out: 'Tis not just
I should neglect my Luck when 'tis so prosp'rous:
Chy.
If I have any thing to set you, Sir, but Cloaths
And good Conditions, let me perish;
You have all my Money.
Proc.
And mine.
Lycin.
And mine too.
Max.
You may trust us sure till to morrow,
Or if you please, I'l send home for Money presently.
Emp.
'Tis already Morning, and staying will be tedious.
My Luck will vanish ere your Money comes.
Chy.
Shall we redeem 'em if we set our Houses?
Emp.
Yes fairly.
Chy.
That at my Villa—
Emp.
At it—'Tis mine.
Chy.
Then farewel, Fig-Trees: For I can ne'r redeem 'em.
Emp.
VVho sets?—Set any thing.
Lycin.
At my Horse.
Emp.
The Dapple Spaniard?
Lycin.
He.
Emp.
He's mine.
Lycin.
He is so.
Max.
Hah!
Lycin.
Nothing, my Lord! But Pox on my Damn'd Fortune.
Emp.
Come Maximus; You were not wont to flinch.
Max.
By Heaven, Sir, I have not a Penny.
Emp.
Then that Ring.
Max.
O Good Sir, This was not given to lose.
Emp.
Some Love-Token—Set it I say!
Max.
I beg you, Sir.
Emp.
How silly and how fond you are grown of Toys!
26
Shall I redeem it?
Emp.
VVhen you please to morrow
Or next day as you will: I do not care
Only for luck-sake—
Max.
There Sir, will you throw?
Emp.
Why then have at it fairly; the last stake!
'Tis mine.
Max.
Y'are ever fortunate! to morrow
I'l bring you—what you please to think it worth.
Emp.
Then your Arabian Horse: but for this night
I'l wear it as my Victory.
Enter Balbus.
Balb.
From the Camp
Æcius in haste has sent these Letters, Sir;
It seems the Cohorts mutiny for Pay.
Emp.
Maximus—This is ill News. Next week they are to march.
You must away immediately; no stay,
No, not so much as to take leave at home.
This careful haste may probably appease 'em;
Send word, what are their Numbers;
And Money shall be sent to pay 'em all.
Besides something by way of Donative.
Max.
I'l not delay a moment, Sir,
The Gods preserve you in this mind for ever.
Emp.
I'l see 'em march my self.
Max.
Gods ever keep you—
[Exit Max.
Emp.
To what end now de'e think this Ring shall serve?
For you are the dull'st and the veriest Rogues—
Fellows that know only by roat as Birds
Whistle and sing.
Chy.
Why, Sir, 'tis for the Lady.
Emp.
The Lady! Blockhead! which end of the Lady?
Her Nose!
Chy.
Faith, Sir, that I know not.
27
Then pray for him that does—
[Exit Chylax.
Fetch in the Eunuch;
You! See th'Apartment made very fine
That lies upon the Garden, Masks and Musick,
With the best speed you can. And all your Arts
Serve to the highest for my Master-piece
Is now on foot.
Proc.
Sir, we shall have a care.
Emp.
I'l sleep an hour or two; and let the Women
Put on a graver shew of Welcome!
Your Wives! they are such Haggard-Bawds
A Thought too eager.
[Enter Chyl. and Lycias.
Chy.
Here's Lycias, Sir.
Lyc.
Long Life to mighty Cæsar.
Emp.
Fortune to thee, for I must use thee Lycias.
Lyc.
I am the humble Slave of Cæsar's Will,
By my Ambition bound to his Commands
As by my duty.
Emp.
Follow me.
Lyc.
With Joy.—
[Exeunt.
| Valentinian | |