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ACTVS, III.
SCÆNA, 1.
Enter Iulia, Domitilla, Stephanos.Iul.
No Domitilla, if you but compare
What I haue suffer'd with your iniuries,
(Though great ones I confesse) they will appeare
Like molehils to Olimpus.
Domitil.
You are tender
Of your owne wounds, which makes you loose the feeling
And sense of mine. The incest he committed
With you, and publikely profes'd in scorne
Of what the world durst censure may admit
Some weake defence, as being borne headlong to it,
But in a manly way to enioy your beauties.
Salute you with the title of Angusta,
Your faint deniall show'd a full consent,
And grant to his temptations. But poore I
That would not yeeld, but was with violence forc'd
To serue his lusts, and in a kinde Tiberius
At Capræ neuer practis'd, haue not heere
One conscious touch to rise vp my accuser
I in my will being innocent.
Steph.
Pardon mee
Great Princesses, though I presume to tell you
Wasting your time in childish lamentations,
You doe degenerate from the bloud; you spring from:
For there is something more in Rome expected
From Titus daughter, and his vncles heyre,
Then womanish complaints after such wrongs
Which mercie cannot pardon. But you'l say
Your hands are weake, and should you but attempt
A iust reuenge on this inhumaine monster.
This prodegie of mankind bloudie Domitian,
Hath readie words at his command aswell
As Islands to confine you to remoue.
His doubts, and feares, did he but entertaine
The least suspition you contriu'd or plotted
Against his person.
Iul.
'Tis true Stephanos.
The legions that sacred Hierusalem
Vnder my Father Titus are sworne his,
And I no more remembred.
Domit.
And to loose
Our selues by building on impossible hopes,
Were desperate madnes.
Steph.
You conclude too fast.
One single arme whose master does contemne
His owne life holds a full command ore his,
Spite of his guards. I was your bondman Ladie,
And you my gracious patronesse; my wealth,
And libertie your guift, and though no souldier,
Grimme death appeare lesse terrible, I dare dye
To doe you seruice in a faire reuenge,
And it will better suite your births and honours
To fall at once, then to liue euer slaues
To his proud Empresse that insults vpon
Your patient sufferings. Say but you goe on,
And I will retch his heart, or perish in
The noble vndertaking.
Domit.
Your free offer
Confirmes your thankefulnesse, which I acknowledge
A satisfaction for a greater debt
Then what you stand ingag'd for: but I must not
Vpon vncertaine grounds hazard so gratefull,
And good a seruant. The mortall powers
Protect a Prince though sould to impious acts,
And seeme to slumber till his roaring crimes
Awake their iustice: but then looking downe
And with impartiall eyes, on his contempt
Of all religion, and mortall goodnesse,
They in their secrets iudgements doe determine
To leaue him to his wickednesse, which sinckes him
When he is most secure.
Jul.
His crueltie
Increasing dayly of necessitie
Must render him as odious to his souldiers,
Familiar friends, and freemen, as it hath done
Alreadie to the Senate; then forsaken
Of his supporters, and growne terrible
Eu'n to himselfe, and her, he now so dotes on,
We may put into act, what now with safetie
We cannot whisper,
Steph.
I am still prepar'd
To execute when you please to command mee:
Since I am confident he deserues much more
That vindicates his countrie from a tyrannie,
Then he that saues a citizen.
Iul.
O heere's Cænis.
Enter Cænis.
Whence come you?
Cæn.
From the Empresse who seemes mou'd
In that you waite no better. Her prides growne
To such a height that shee disdaines the service
Of her owne women; and esteemes her selfe
Neglected? when the Princesses of the bloud
On everie course imployment, are not readie
To stoope to her commands.
Domitil.
Where is her greatnes?
Cæn.
Where you would little thinke she could descend
To grace the roome or persons.
Iul.
Speake; where is she?
Cæn.
Among the Players, where all state layd by,
She does enquire who acts this part, who that,
And in what habits? blames the tire-women
For want of curious dressings; and so taken
She is with Paris the Tragedians shape
That is to act a Louer, I thought once
She would haue courted him.
Domitil.
In the meane time
How spends the Emperour his houres?
Cæn.
As euer
He hath done heretofore in being cruell
To innocent men, whose vertues he calles crimes.
And but this morning if't be possible
He hath out-gone himselfe, hauing condemn'd
At Aretinus his informers suite,
Palphurius Sura, and good Junius Rusticus,
Men of the best repute in Rome for their
Integritie of life; no fault obiected
But that they did lament his cruell sentence
On Pætus Thraseas the Philosopher
Their Patron and instructer.
Steph.
Can Ioue see this
And hold his thunder.
Domitil.
Nero and Caligula
Commanded onely mischiefes, but our Cæsar
Delights to see 'em.
What we cannot helpe,
We may deplore with silence.
Cæn.
We are call'd for
By our proud mistresse.
Domit.
We a while must suffer.
Steph.
It is true fortitude to stand firme against
All shocks of fate, when cowards faint and dye
In feare to suffer more calamitie.
Exeunt.
Scæna, 2.
Enter Cæsar, Parthenius.Cæs.
They are then in fetters.
Parth.
Yes Sir. But
Cæs.
But? What?
I'll haue thy thoughts. Deliuer them.
Parth.
I shall Sir.
But still submitting to your God-like pleasure,
Which cannot be instructed?
Cæs.
To the point.
Parth.
Nor let your sacred Maiestie belieue
Your vassall, that with drie eyes look'd vpon
His Father drag'd to death by your command,
Can pitty these, that durst presume to censure
What you decreed.
Cæs.
Well. Forward.
Parth.
'Tis my zeale
Still to preserue your clemencie admi'rd
Temper'd with iustice, that emboldens me
To offer my aduice. Alas I know Sir
These Bookemen, Rusticus, and Palphurius Sura,
Deserue all tortures. Yet in my opinion,
They being popular Senators, and cried vp
With loud applauses of the multitude,
For foolish honestie, and beggerly vertue,
T'would rellish more of pollicie to haue them
Made away in priuate, with what exquisite torments
To the degrees in publike; for 'tis doubted
That the sad obiect may beget compassion
In the giddie rout, and cause some sudaine vprore
That may disturbe you.
Cæs.
Hence pale spirited coward
Can we descend so farre beneath our selfe
As, or to court, the peoples loue, or feare
Their worst of hate? Can they that are as dust
Before the whirle winde of our will and power,
Adde any moment to vs? Or thou thinke
If there are Gods aboue, or Goddesses,
(But wise Minerua that's mine owne and sure)
That they haue vacant houres to take into
Their serious protection, or care,
This many headed monster? mankind liues
In few, as potent Monarchs, and their Peers;
And all those glorious constellations
That doe adorne the firmament, appointed
Like groomes with their bright influence to attend
The actions of Kings, and Emperours,
They being the greater wheeles that moue the lesse.
Bring forth those condemn'd wretches; let me see
One man so lost, as but to pittie 'em
And though there lay a million of soules
Imprison'd in his flesh, my Hangmens hookes
Should rend it off and giue 'em libertie.
Cæsar hath said it.
Exit Parthenius.
Enter Parthenius, Aretinus, and the Guard, Hangmen dragging in Iunius, Rusticus, and Palphurius Sura, bound backe to backe:
Aret.
'Tis great Cæsars pleasure
That with fix'd eyes you carefully obserue
The peoples lookes. Charge vpon any man
That with a sigh, or murmure does expresse
A seeming sorrow for these traytors deaths.
Cæs.
A good bloud-hound,
And fit for my imployments.
Sur.
Giue vs leaue
To dye fell tyrant.
Rust.
For beyond our bodies
Thou hast no power.
Cæs.
Yes I'll afflict your soules.
And force them groaning to the Stigian lake
Prepar'd for such to howle in, that blaspheame
The power of Princes, that are Gods on earth;
Tremble to thinke how terrible the dreame is
After this sleepe of death.
Rust.
To guiltie men
It may bring terror, not to vs, that know
What 'tis to dye, well taught by his example
For whom we suffer. In my thought I see
The substance of that pure vntainted soule,
Of Thraseas our master made a starre,
That with melodious harmonie invites vs
(Leauing this dunghill Rome, made hell by thee,)
To trace his heauenly steps, and fill a Spheare
Aboue yon Chrystall Canopie.
Cæs.
Doe inuoke him
With all the aydes his sanctitie of life
Haue wonne on the rewarders of his vertue,
They shall not saue you Dogs doe you grinne? torment 'em.
So take a leafe of Seneca now and proue
If it can render you insensible
Of that which but begins here. Now an oyle
The Hangmen torment 'em they still smiling.
Drawne from the Stoicks frozen principles
Predominant ouer fire were vsefull for you.
Againe, againe. You trifle. Not a groane,
Is my rage lost? What cursed charmes defend 'em!
Search deeper villaines. Who lookes pale? or thinkes
That I am cruell?
Aret.
Ouer mercifull.
'Tis all your weakenesse Sir.
I dare not show
A signe of sorrow, yet my synnewes shrinke
The spectacle is so horrid.
Aside.
Cæs.
I was neuer
O'recome till now. For my sake rore a little,
And show you are corporeall, and not turn'd
Aeriall spirits. Will it not do. By Pallas
It is vnkindly done to mocke his furie
Whom the world stiles omnipotent. I am tortur'd
In their want of feeling torments. Marius storie
That does report him to haue sate vnmou'd
When cunning Chirurgions rip'd his arteries,
And veines, to cure his goute compar'd to this
Deserues not to bee nam'd. Are they not dead?
If so, wee wash an Æthiope.
Sur.
No, wee liue.
Rust.
Liue to deride thee, our calme patience treading
Vpon the necke of tyrannie. That securely,
(As t'were a gentle slumber,) we indure
Thy hangmens studied tortures, is a debt
Wee owe to graue Philosophie, that instruct's vs
The flesh is but the clothing of the soule
Which growing out of fashion though it bee
Cast of, or rent, or torne, like ours, 'tis then
Being it selfe diuine, in her best luster.
But vnto such as thou, that haue no hopes
Beyond the present, euerie little scar;
The want of rest; excesse of heare or, cold
That does informe them, onely they are mortall,
Pierce through, and through them.
Cæs.
We will heare no more,
Rust.
This onely, and I giue thee warning of it.
Though it is in thy will to grinde this earth,
As small as Atomes, they throwne in the Sea to.
They shall seeme recollected to thy sense,
And when the sandie building of thy greatnes,
Shall with its owne weight totter; looke to see me
As I was yesterday, in my perfect shape,
Cæs.
By my shaking
I am the guiltie man, and not the Iudge.
Drag from my sight, these cursed ominous wizards,
That as they are now like to double fac'd Janus
Which way soe're I looke, are furies to me.
Away with 'em. First show them death, then leaue
Exeunt Hangmen with Rusticus and Sura.
No memory of their ashes I'll mocke fate.
Shall words fright him, victorious armies circle?
No, no, the feuer does begin to leaue me.
Enter Domitia, Julia, Cænis.
Stephanos following.
Of were it deadly, from this liuing fountaine
I could renue the vigor of my youth,
And be a second Verbius. O my glory!
My life! command! my all!
Embracing and kissing mutually.
Domit.
As you to me are.
I heard you were sad; I haue prepar'd you sport
Will banish melancholie, Sirrha, Cæsar,
(I hugge my selfe for't) I haue beene instructing
The Players how to act, and to cut off
All tedious impertinencie, haue contracted
The Tragedie, into one continued Sceane.
I haue the art of't, and am taken more
With my abilitie that way, then all knowledge
I haue but of thy loue.
Cæs.
Thou art still thy selfe,
The sweetest, wittiest.
Domit.
When wee are a bed
I'll thanke your good opinion. Thou shalt see
Such an Iphis of thy Paris, and to humble
The pride of Domitilla that neglects mee
(How e're she is your cousin.) I haue forc'd her
To play the part of Anaxerete.
You are not offended with it?
Cæs.
Any thing
That does content thee yeilds delight to mee.
My faculties, and powers are thine.
Domit.
I thanke you
After a short flourish, enter Paris as Jphis.
Without more circumstance, how doe you like
That shape? me thinkes it is most sutable
To the aspect of a despairing louer.
The seeming late falne, counterfeited teares
That hang vpon his cheekes, was my deuice.
Cæs.
And all was excellent.
Domit.
Now heare him speake.
Par.
That she is faire (and that an Epethite
To soule to expresse her) or descended nobly,
Or rich, or fortunate, and certaine truthes
In which poore Iphis glories. But that these
Perfections, in no other Virgin found,
Abus'd, should nourish crueltie, and pride,
In the diuinest Anaxarete,
Is, to my loue-sicke languishing soule, a riddle,
And with more difficultie to be dissolu'd,
Then that, the monster Sphinx from the steepie rocke
Offer'd to Oedipus. Imperious loue,
As at thy euer flaming Altars Iphis
Thy neuer tyred votarie hath presented
With scalding teares whose Hecatombes of sighes,
Preferring thy power, and thy Paphian mothers,
Before the thunderers, Neptunes, or Pluto's
(That after Saturne did diuide the world
And had the sway of things) yet were compell'd
By thy vneuitable shafts to yeeld
And fight vnder thy ensignes, be auspicious
To this last tryall of my sacrifice
Of loue, and seruice.
Domit.
Do's he not act it rarely?
Obserue with what a feeling he deliuers
His orisons to Cupid; I am rap'd with't.
Par.
And from thy neuer emptied quiuer take
A golden arrow, to transfix her heart
And force her loue like me, or cure my wound
With a leaden one, that may beget in me
Hate and forgetfulnesse, of what's now my Idoll.
In my rash wish. 'Tis I that am vnworthy,
But she all merit, and may in iustice challenge
From the assurance of her excellencies
Not loue, but adoration. Yet beare witnesse
All knowing powers, I bring along with me
As faithfull aduocates to make intercession
A loyall heart, with pure, and holy flames
With the foule fires of lust neuer polluted.
And as I touch her threshold (which with teares
My limbes benumb'd with cold, I oft haue wash'd)
With my glad lips I kisse this earth growne proud
With frequent fauours from her delicate feete.
Domit.
By Cæsars life he weepes. And I forbeare
Hardly to keepe him companie.
Par.
Blest ground thy pardon
If I prophane it with forbidden steps.
I must presume to knocke, and yet attempt it
With such a trembling reuerence as if
My hands held vp, for expiation
To the incensed Gods to spare a kingdome.
Within there, hoe? something divine come forth
To a distressed mortall.
Enter Latinus as a Porter.
Lat.
Ha! Who knockes there?
Domit.
What a churlish looke this knaue has
Lat.
Is't you Sirrha?
Are you come to pule and whine? avaunt, and quickly.
Dogwhips shall driue you hence else.
Domit.
Churlish deuill?
But that I should disturbe the Sceane, as I liue
I would teare his eyes out.
Cæs.
'Tis in iest Domitia,
Domit.
I doe not like such iesting, if he were not
A flintie hearted slaue, he could not vse
One of his forme so harshly. How the toade swells
At the others sweete humilitie!
Cæs.
'Tis his part
Let 'em proceed.
A Rogues part, will ne're leaue him!
Par.
As you haue gentle Sir, the happinesse
(When yon please) to behold the figure of
The master peice of nature, limn'd to the life,
In more then humane Anaxerete,
Scorne not your seruant, that with suppliant hands
Takes hold vpon your knees, coniuring you
As you are a man, and did not sucke the milke
Of Wolues, and Tigres, or a mother of
A tougher temper, vse some meanes these eyes
Before they are wept out, may see your Ladie.
Will you be gracious Sir?
Lat.
Though I loose my place for't
I can hold out no longer.
Domit.
Now hee melts
There is some little hope hee may die honest
Lat.
Madam.
Enter Domitilla for Anaxerete.
Domit.
Who calls? what obiect haue we heere?
Domit.
Your cousin keepes her proud state still I thinke
I haue fitted her for a part.
Domit.
Did I not charge thee
I ne're might see this thing more?
Par.
I am indeed
What thing you please, a Worme that you may tread on,
Lower I cannot fall to shew my duty,
Till your disdaine hath dig'd a graue to couer
This bodie with forgotten dust, and when
I know your sentence, cruellest of women)
I'll by a willing death remoue the obiect
That is an eyesore to you.
Domit.
Wretch thou darst not.
That were the last, and greatest seruice to mee
Thy doting loue could boast of. What dull foole
But thou could nourish any flattering hope
One of my height, in youth, in birth and fortune
Could e're defend to looke vpon thy lownesse?
Much lesse consent to make my Lord of one
I would not accept, though offre'd for my slaue,
Domit.
There's her true nature
No personated scorne.
Domit.
I wrong my worth
Or to exchange a syllable, or looke,
With one so farre beneath me.
Par.
Yet take heed,
Take heed of pride, and curiouslie consider
How brittle the foundation is, on which
You labour to aduance it. Niobe
Proud of her numerous issue durst contemne
Latonas double burthen but what follow'd?
She was left a childlesse mother, and mourn'd to marble.
The beautie you o're-prize so, time, or sicknes
Can change to loth'd deformitie, Your wealth
The prey of theeues; Queene Heccuba Troy fir'd
Vlisses bond-woman. But the loue I bring you
Nor time, nor sicknesse, violent theeues, nor fate
Can rauish from you.
Domit.
Could the Oracle
Giue better counsaile.
Par.
Say will you relent yet?
Reuoking your decree that I should dye?
Or shall I doe what you command? resolue
I am impatient of delay.
Domit.
Dispatch then
I shall looke on your Tragedie vnmou'd,
Peraduenture laugh at it, for it will proue
A Comedie to me.
Domit.
O diuell! diuell!
Par.
Then thus I take my last leaue. All the curses
Of louers fall vpon you; and hereafter
When any man like me contemn'd, shall studie
In the anguish of his soule to giue a name
To a scornfull cruell mistresse, let him onely
Say this most bloudie woman is to me,
As Anaxerete was to wretched Iphis.
Now feast your tyrannous mind, and glorie in
That should haue made vs one, this fatall halter
For euer shall diuorce vs; at your gate
As a trophee of your pride, and my affliction,
I'll presently hang my selfe.
Domit.
Not for the world.
Restraine him as you loue your liues.
Cæs.
Why are you
Transported thus Domitia? 'tis a play,
Or grant it serious, it at no part merits.
This passion in you.
Par.
I nere purpos'd Madam
To do the deed in earnest, though I bowe
To your care, and tendernesse of me.
Domit.
Let me Sir,
Intreate your pardon, what I saw presented
Carried me beyond my selfe.
Cæs.
To your place againe
And see what followes.
Domit.
No I am familiar
With the conclusion, besides vpon the sudaine
I feele my selfe much indispos'd.
Cæs.
To bed then
I'll be thy Doctor.
Areo.
There is something more
In this then passion, which I must find out,
Or my intelligence freezes.
Domit.
Come to me Paris
To morrow for your reward
Steph.
Patronesse heare mee
Will you not call for your share? sit downe with this,
And the next action like a Gaditane strumpet
I shall looke to see you tumble.
Domit.
Prethee be patient.
I that haue sufferd greater wrongs beare this
And that till my reuenge my comfort is.
Exeunt.
The end of the third Act.
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