 | The Prophetesse |  |
Scæna Secunda.
Enter Maximinian and Aurelia.Aur.
Why droops my Lord, my Love, my life, my Cæsar?
how ill this dulnesse doth comport with Greatnesse?
Does not (with open arms) your Fortune court you?
Rome know you for her Master? I my self
confesse you for my Husband? love, and serve you?
if you contemn not these, and think them curses,
I know no blessings that ambitious flesh
could wish to feel beyond 'em.
Max.
Best Aurelia,
the parent and the nurse to all my Glories,
'tis not that thus embracing you, I think
there is a heaven beyond it, that begets
these sad retirements; but the fear to lose
what it is hell to part with: better to have liv'd
poor and obscure, and never scal'd the top
of hilly Empire, then to die with fear
to be thrown headlong down, almost as soon
as we have reach'd it.
Aur.
These are Pannick terrours
you fashion to your self: Is not my Brother
(your equall and copartner in the Empire)
vow'd and confirm'd your friend? the souldier constant?
Hath not your Uncle Dioclesian taken
his last farewell o'th' world? What then can shake ye?
Max.
The thought I may be shaken: and assurance
that what we doe possesse is not our own,
43
for nothing's more uncertain (my Aurelia)
then Power that stands not on his proper Basis,
but borrowes his foundation. I'll make plain
my cause of doubts and fears; for what should I
conceal from you, that are to be familiar
with my most private thoughts? Is not the Empire
my Uncles gift? and may he not resume it
upon the least distaste? Does not Charinus
crosse me in my designes? And what is Majestie
when 'tis divided? Does not the insolent Souldier
call my command his donative? and what can take
more from our honour? No (my wise Aurelia,)
If I to you am more then all the world,
as sure you are to me; as wee desire
to be secure, wee must be absolute,
and know no equall: when your Brother borrows
the little splendor that he has from us,
and we are serv'd for fear, not at entreaty,
we may live safe; but till then, we but walk
with heavie burthens on a sea of glasse,
and our own weight will sink us.
Aur.
Your Mother brought you
into the world an Emperor: you perswade
but what I would have counsell'd: Neernesse of blood,
respect of pietie, and thankfulnesse,
and all the holy dreams of vertuous fools
must vanish into nothing, when Ambition
(the maker of great minds, and nurse of honour)
puts in for Empire. On then, and forget
your simple Uncle; think he was the Master
(in being once an Emperor) of a Jewell,
whose worth and use he knew not: For Charinus,
no more my Brother, if hee be a stop
to what you purpose; hee to Me's a stranger,
and so to be remov'd.
Max.
Thou more then woman,
thou masculine Greatnesse, to whose soaring spirit
to touch the stars seems but an easie flight;
O how I glory in thee! those great women
Antiquitie is proud of, thou but nam'd,
shall be no more remembred: but persever,
and thou shalt shine among those lesser lights
Enter Charinus, Niger, Guard.
to all posteritie like another Phebe,
and so ador'd as she is.
Aur.
Here's Charinus,
his brow furrow'd with anger.
Max.
Let him storm,
and you shall hear me thunder.
Cha.
He dispose of
my Provinces at his pleasure? and confer
those honours (that are onely mine to give)
upon his creatures?
Nig.
Mighty Sir, ascribe it
to his assurance of your love and favour,
and not to pride or malice.
Cha.
No, good Niger,
courtesie shall not fool me; he shall know
I lent a hand to raise him, and defend him,
while he continues good: but the same strength
if pride make him usurp upon my Right,
shall strike him to the Center. You are well met, Sir.
Max.
As you make the Encounter: Sir, I hear,
that you repine, and hold your self much griev'd,
in that, without your good leave, I bestow'd
the Gallian Proconsulship upon
a follower of mine.
Cha.
'Tis true: and wonder
you durst attempt it.
Max.
Durst, Charinus?
Cha.
Durst:
again, I speak it: Think you me so tame,
so leaden and unactive, to sit down
with such dishonour? But, recall your grant,
and speedily; or by the Roman—
thou tripst thine own heels up, and hast no part
in Rome, or in the Empire.
Max.
Thou hast none,
but by permission: Alas, poor Charinus,
thou shadow of an Emperor, I scorn thee,
thee, and thy foolish threats: The gods appoint him
the absolute disposer of the Earth,
that has the sharpest sword. I am sure (Charinus)
thou wear'st one without edge. When cruell Aper
had kill'd Numerianus, thy Brother,
(an act that would have made a trembling coward
more daring then Alcides) thy base feare
made thee wink at it: then rose up my Uncle
(for the honour of the Empire, and of Rome)
against the Traitor, and among his Guards
punish'd the treason: This bold daring act
got him the Souldiers suffrages to be Cæsar.
And howsoever his too gentle nature
allow'd thee the name only, as his gift,
I challenge the succession.
Cha.
Thou art cozen'd.
When the receiver of a courtesie
cannot sustain the weight it carries with it,
'tis but a Triall, not a present Act.
Thou hast in a few dayes of thy short Reign,
in over-weening pride, riot and lusts,
sham'd noble Dioclesian, and his gift:
nor doubt I, when it shall arrive unto
his certain knowledge, how the Empire grones
under thy Tyranny, but hee will forsake
his private life, and once again resume
his laid-by Majestie: or at least, make choice
of such an Atlas as may bear this burthen,
too heavie for thy shouldiers. To effect this,
lend your assistance (Gentlemen) and then doubt not
but that this mushroom (sprung up in a night)
shall as soon wither. And for you (Aurelia)
if you esteem your honour more then tribute
paid to your lothsome appetite, as a Furie
flie from his loose embraces: so farewell;
ere long you shall hear more.
Exeunt.
Aur.
Are you struck dumb,
that you make no reply?
Max.
Sweet, I will doe,
and after talk: I will prevent their plots.
and turn them on their own accursed heads.
My Uncle? good: I must not know the names
of Pietie or Pitie. Steel my heart,
desire of Empire, and instruct me, that
the Prince that over others would bear sway,
checks at no Let that stops him in his way.
Exeunt.
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