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SCENE V.

Rubrius.
Trust me, Philodamus, it grieves me much
To be a burthen to you! but the legate,
Thinking the Roman dignity infring'd
By the faint splendour where I last was station'd,
Has order'd this remove.

Philodamus.
The case is new,
But we obey th'injunction of our lords.
Pray, think this house your own. Nay, it is so:
And that it might afford ampler reception,
This instant I have sent away my son.

Rubrius,
eagerly.
You have not sent away your daughter, too?

Philodamus.
That needed not! you know her range of chambers
Can never interfere with these apartments.

Rubrius.
Your house is royal—(I suppose this door
Leads to th'apartment of the women.)

Philodamus.
No,
This on the left.


39

Rubrius.
—And I shall not disgrace it
By those I've bid; the Legate and his train
Will dine here! he was close behind. He comes.

[Horns.
Philodamus.
And in right time. I think the table's serv'd.
Haste we to meet him.

Rubrius.
I attend upon you.

[Exeunt.