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Scæna, 4.
Enter Iulia, Cænis, Domitilla, Domitia.Cæn.
Stand backe the place is mine.
Jul.
Your's? am I not
Great Titus daughter, and Domitians neece
Dares any claime precedence?
Cæn.
I was more
The mistris of your father, and in his right
Claime dutie from you.
Iul.
I confesse you were vsefull
To please his appetite.
Domit.
To end the controuersie,
For Ile haue no contending, Ile be bold
To leade the way my selfe.
Domitil.
You Minion!
Domit.
Yes
And all ere long shall kneele to catch my fauours.
Iul,
Whence springs this floud of greatnesse?
Domit.
You shall know
To soone for your vexation, and perhaps
Repent too late, and pine with enuie when
You see whom Cæsar fauours
Iul.
Obserue the sequel.
Cæs.
As we now touch the height of humane glorie,
Riding in triumph to the Capitoll,
Let these whom this victorious arme hath made
The scorne of Fortune, and the slaues of Rome,
Tast the extreames of miserie. Beare them off
To the common prisons, and there let them proue
How sharpe our axes are.
Rust.
A bloudie entrance!
Cæs.
To tell you, you are happie in your Prince
Were to distrust your loue, or my desert
And either were distastefull. Or to boast
How much, not by my Deputies, but my selfe,
I haue enlargd the Empire; or what horrors
The Souldier in our conduct hath broke through,
Would better suite the mouth of Plautus bragart,
Then the adored Monarch of the world.
Sura.
This is no boast.
Cæs.
When I but name the Daci,
And gray ey'd Germans whom I haue subdu'd,
The Ghost of Iulius will looke pale with envie,
And great Uespatians, and Titus triumph,
(Truth must take place of Father and of Brother)
Will be no more remembred. I am aboue
All honours you can giue me. And the stile
Of Lord, and God, which thankefull subiects giue me
(Not my ambition) is deseru'd,
Aret.
At all parts
Cœlestiall Sacrifice is fit for Cæsar
In our acknowledgement.
Cæs.
Thankes Aretinus
Still hold our fauour. Now; the God of warre,
And famine, bloud, and death, Bellonas Pages
With iustice he may taste the fruits of peace,
Whose sword hath plowd the ground, and reap'd the harvest
Of your prosperitie. Nor can I thinke
That there is one among you so vngratefull,
Or such an enemie, to thriuing vertue,
That can esteeme the iewell he holds deerest
Too good for Cæsars vse
Sur.
All we possesse.
Lam.
Our liberties.
Fulcin.
Our children.
Parth.
Wealth.
Aret.
And throates
Fall willingly beneath his feete.
Rust.
Base flattery.
What Roman could indure this?
Cæs.
This cals on
My loue to all, which spraeds it selfe among you.
The beauties of the time! receiue the honour
To kisse the hand, which rear'd vp thus, holds thunder
To you 'tis an assurance of a calme.
Julia my neece and Cænis the delight
Of old Uespatian, Domitilla to
A princesse of our bloud.
Rust.
Tis strange his pride
Affords no greater courtesie to Ladies
Of such high birth and rancke.
Sur.
Your wifes forgotten
Lam.
No shee will bee remembred feare it not
She will bee grac'd and greas'd.
Cæs.
But when I looke on
Diuine Domitian, mee thinkes we should meete
(The lesser gods applauding the encounter)
As Iupiter the Giants lying dead
On the Phlegræan plaine imbrac't his Iuno
Lamia 'tis your honour that she's mine.
Lam.
You are too great to be gainesaid.
Cæs.
Let all
Without examining the reason why,
Salute her (by this kisse I make it good)
With the title of Augusta.
Domit.
Still your seruant,
All.
Long liue Augusta great Domitians Empresse.
Cæs.
Paris my hand.
Par.
The Gods still honour Cæsar.
Cæs.
The wars are ended, and our armes layd by
We are for soft delights. Command the Poets
To vse their choisest, and most rare inuention
To entertaine the time, and be you carefull
To giue it action, Wee'l prouide the people
Pleasures of all kindes. My Domitia thinke not
I flatter, though thus fond, On to the Capitoll
Tis death to him that weares a sullen browe:
This tis to be a Monarch when alone
He can command all, but is aw'd by none
Exeunt.
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