University of Virginia Library

A great skirmish in Rome and long, some slaine. At last enter Scilla triumphant with Pompey, Metellus, Citizens, souldiers.
Scilla:
Now Romanes after all these mutiuies,
Seditions, murthers, and conspiracies,
Imagine with vnpartiall harts at last
VVhat frutes proceed from these contentious brawles.
Your streetes, where earst the fathers of your state
In robes of purple walked vp and downe,
Are strewd with mangled members, streaming blood.
And why? the reasons of this ruthfull wrack,
Are your seditious innouations,
Your fickle mindes inclinde to foolish change.
Vngratefull men, whilst I with tedious paine
In Asia seald my dutie with my blood,
Making the fierce Dardanians faint for feare,
Spredding my cullers in Galatia,
Dipping my sword in the Enetans blood,
And foraging the fields of Phocida.
You cald my foe from exile with his frends,
You did proclaime me traitor here in Rome,
You racde my house, you did deface my frends.
But brauling wolues, you cannot byte the moone,
For Scilla liues so forward to reuenge,
As woe to those that sought to doo me wrong.
I now am entred Rome in spite of force,
And will so hamper all my cursed foes,
As be he Tribune, Consull, Lord or Knight
That hateth Scilla, let him looke to die.
And first to make an entrance to mine yre,
Bring me that traitor Carbo out of hand.

Bring in Carbo bound.
Pomp.
Oh Scilla, in reuenging iniuries,
Inflict the paine where first offence did spring,
And for my sake establish peace in Rome,
And pardon these repentant Citizens.

Scilla:
Pompey, I loue thee Pompey, and consent
To thy request, but Romanes haue regard,
Least ouer-reaching in offence againe,
I load your shoulders with a double paine.
Exeunt Citizens.
But Pompey see where iolly Carbo comes
Footing it featly, like a mightie man.
VVhat no obeisance sirrha to your Lord?
My Lord? No Scilla, he that thrice hath borne
Then me of Consull scornes to stoop to him,
Whose hart doth hammer nought but mutinies.

Pomp:
And doth your Lordship then disdaine to stoope

Carbo:
I to mine equall Pompey as thou art.

Scilla:
Thine equall villaine, no he is my frend,
Thou but a poore anatomie of bones,
Casde in a knauish tawny withred skin:
VVilt thou not stoop? art thou so stately then?

Carbo:
Scilla, I honor gods, not foolish men,

Sci:
Then bend that wythered bough that will not break
And souldiers cast him downe before my feete:
They throw him downe.
Now prating sir, my foote vpon thy necke,
Ile be so bold to giue your Lordship checke.
Beleeue me souldiers, but I ouer-reach,
Old Carbos necke at first was made to stretch.

Carbo:
Though bodie bend, thou tyrant most vnkinde,
Yet neuer shalt thou humble Carbos minde.

Scilla:
oh sir, I know for all your warlike pith,
A man may marre your worship with a wyth.
You sirrha leuied armes to doo me wrong:
You brought your legions to the gates of Rome:
You fought it out in hope that I would faint.
But sirrha now betake you to your bookes,
Intreate the God to saue your sinfull soule.
For why this carcasse must in my behalfe
Goe feast the rauens that serue our augures turne.
Me thinkes I see alreadie how they wish,
To bait their beakes in such a iolly dish.

Carbo:
Scilla thy threates and scoffes amate me not:
I prethee let thy murthrers hale me hence,
For Carbo rather likes to die by sword,
Than liue to be a mocking stocke to thee.

Scilla:
The man hath hast good souldiers take him hence,
It would be good to alter his pretence.
But be aduisde, that when the foole is slaine,
You part the head and bodie both in twaine.
I know that Carbo longs to know the cause,
And shall: thy bodie for the rauens, thy head for dawes.

Carbo:
O matchles ruler of our Capitoll,
Behold poore Rome with graue and piteous eie,
Ful-fild with wrong and wretched tyrannie.

Exit Carbo cum militibus.
Enter Scipio and Norbanus, Publius Lentulus.
Scill:
Tut the proud mans praier wil neuer pierce the skie.
But whether presse these mincing Senators?

Norbanus:
VVe presse with praiers, we come with mournfull teares,
Intreating Scilla by those holy bands
That linkes faire Iuno with her thundring Ioue,
Euen by the bounds of hospitalitie,
To pitie Rome afflicted through thy wrath.
Thy souldiers (Scilla) murder innocents.
O whither will thy lawles surie stretch,
If little ruth ensue thy countries harmes.

Scilla:
Gay words Narbonus, full of eloquence,
Accompanied with action and conceipt.
But I must teach thee iudgement therewithall.
Dar'st thou approch my presence that hast borne
Thine armes in spight of Scilla and his frends?
I tell thee foolish man thy iudgement wanted
In this presumptuous purpose that is past:
And loytering scholler, since you faile in art,
Ile learne you iudgement shortly to your smart,
Dispatch him souldiers, I must see him die.
And you Carinna, Carbos ancient frend,
Shall follow straight your heedles Generall.
And Scipio were it not I loud thee well.
Thou shouldst accompanie these slaues to hell:
But get you gone, and if you loue your selfe.

Exit Scipio.
Carinna:
Pardon me Scilla, pardon gentle Scilla.

Scilla:
Sirrha, this gentle name was coynd too late,
And shadowed in the shrowds of byting hate.
Dispatch: why so, good fortune to my frends,
As for my foes, euen such shall be their ends.
Conueigh them hence Metellus, gentle Metellus,
Fetch me Sertorius from Iberia,
In dooing so, thou standest me in stead,
For sore I long to see the traitors head.

Metell:
I goe confirmd to conquer him by sword,
or in th'exployt to hazard life and all.

Scilla:
Now Pompey let me see, those Senators
Are dangerous stops of our pretended state,
And must be curtald least they grow too proud,
I doo proscribe iust fortie Senators,
Which shalbe leaders in my tragedie.
And for our Gentlemen are ouer proud,
Of them a thousand and sixe hundreth die,
A goodlie armie meete to conquere hell.
Souldiers performe the course of my decree,
Their friends my foes, their foes shalbe my friends,
Go sell their goods by trumpet at your wills,
Meane while Pompey shall see and Rome shall rue,
The miseries that shortly shall ensue.

Exit.
Alarum skirmish a retreat, enter young Marius vppon the walles of Preneste with some souldiers all in blacke and wonderfull mellancoly.
Marius:
Oh endles course of needy mans auaile,
VVhat sillie thoughts, what simple pollicies
makes man presume vpon this traiterous life?
Haue I not seene the depth of sorrow once,
And then againe haue kist the Queene of chaunce,
Oh Marius thou Tillitius and thy frends,
Hast seene thy foe discomfetted in fight.
But now the starres haue formde my finall harmes,
My father Marius lately dead in Rome,
My foe with honour doth triumph in Rome,
My freends are dead and banished from Rome,
I Marius father freends more blest then thee:
They dead, I liue, I thralled they are free.
Here in Preneste am I cooped vp,
Amongst a troope of hunger starued men.
Set to preuent false Scillaes fierce approach.
But now exempted both of life and all.
VVell Fortune since thy fleeting change, hath cast
Pore Marius from his hopes and true desiers,
My resolution shall exceed thy power,
Thy coloured wings steeped in purple blood,
Thy blinding wreath distainde in purple blood,
Thy royall Robes washt in my purple blood
Shall witnes to the world thy thirst of blood,
And when the tyrant Scilla shal expect
To see the sonne of Marius stoope forfeare,
Then then, Oh then my minde shal well appeare,
That scorne my life and hold mine honour deare.
Alarum a retreat.
Harke how these murtherous Romaine viper like,
Seeke to betray their fellow Cittizens,
Oh wretched world from whence with speedie flight,
True loue, true zeale, true honour late is fled.

sould:
VVhat makes my Lord so carelesse and secure,
To leaue the breach and here lament alone?

Mar:
Not feare my frend for I could neuer flie,
But studdy how with honor for to die.
I pray thee cal the cheefest Cittizens.
I must aduise them in a waightie cause,
Here shal they meete me and vntill they come,
I wil gee view the danger of the breach.

Exit Marius and the souldiers.
Enter with drum and souldiers Lucretius with other Romanes as Tuditanus &c.
Lucretius:
Say Tuditanus, didst thou euer see
So desperate defence as this hath been:

Tudit:
As in Numidia Tygers wanting food,
Or as in Libia Lions full of yre,
So fare these Romanes on Preneste wals.

Lucret:
Their valure Tuditanus and resist,
The manlike fight of yonger Marius,
Makes me amazd to see their miseries,
And pitie them although they be my foes.
VVhat said I foes? O Rome with ruth I see
Thy state consumde through folly and dissention.
VVell sound a parle, I will see if words
Can make them yeeld, which will not flie for strokes?

Sound a parle, Marius vpon the wale with the Citizens.
Marius:
What seeks this Romane warrior at our hands?

Lucr:
That seekes he Marius, that he wisheth thee:
An humble hart, and then a happie peace.
Thou seest thy fortunes are deprest and downe,
Thy vittels spent, thy souldiers weake with want,
The breach laid open readie to assault,
Now since thy meanes and maintenance are done,
Yeeld Marius, yeeld, Prenestians be aduisde,
Lucretius is aduisde to fauor you.
I prethee Marius marke my last aduice.
Relent in time, let Scilla be thy frend:
So thou in Rome maist lead a happie life,
And those with thee shall pray for Marius still.

Mar:
Lucretius, I consider on thy words,
Stay there a while thou shalt haue answere straight.

Lucretius:
Apollo grant that my perswasions may,
Preserue these Romane souldiers from the sword.

Marius:
My frends and citizens of Preneste towne,
You see the wayward working of our starres,
Our harts confirmd to fight, our victuals spent.
If we submit, its Scilla must remit,
A tyrant, traitor, enemie to Rome.
Whose hart is guarded still with bloodie thoughts.
These flattring vowes Lucretius here auowes,
Are pleasing words to colour poysoned thoughts.
What will you liue with shame, or die with fame?

1 Cit:
A famous death, my Lord delights vs most.

2 Cit:
We of thy faction (Marius) are resolud
To follow thee in life and death together.

Marius:
VVords full of worth, beseeming noble mindes
The verie Balsamum to mend my woes.
Oh countrimen, you see Campania spoild,
A tyrant threatning mutinies in Rome,
A world dispoyld of vertue, faith and trust.
If then no peace, no libertie, no faith,
Conclude with me, and let it be no life.
Liue not to see your tender infants slaine,
These stately towers made leuell with the land,
This bodie mangled by our enemies sword:
But full resolud to doo as Marius doth,
Vnsheath your ponyards, and let euerie frend,
Bethinke him of a souldier like farewell.
Sirrha, display my standerd on the wals,
And I will answere yond Lucretius,
VVho loueth Marius, now must die with Marius?

Luer:
VVhat answere wil your Lordship then return vs?

Marius:
Lucretius, we that know what Scilla is,
How dissolute, how trothles and corrupt:
In briefe conclude to die before we yeeld:
But so to die (Lucretius marke me well)
As loath to see the furie of our swords
Should murther frends and Romane citizens.
Fie countrimen, what furie doth infect
Your warlike bosomes, that were wont to fight
VVith forren foes, not with Campanian frends?
Now vnaduised youth must counsaile eld:
For gouernance is banisht out of Rome.
Woe to that bough from whence these bloomes are sprung,
VVoe to that Aetna, vomiting this fire:
VVoe to that brand, consuming Countries weale:
Woe to that Scilla, careles and secure,
That gapes with murther for a Monarchie.
Goe second Brutus with a Romane minde,
And kill that tyrant: and for Marius sake
Pitie the guiltles wiues of these your frends,
Preserue their weeping infants from the sword,
Whose fathers seale their honors with their bloods.
Farewell Lucretius, first I presse in place
stab.
To let thee see a constant Romane die,
Prenestians, loe a wound, a fatall wound,
The paine but small, the glorie passing great.
againe.
Prenestians see a second stroke: why so.
I feele the dreeping dimnes of the night,
Closing the couerts of my carefull eies.
Follow me frends: for Marius now must die
With fame, in spight of Scillas tyrannie.

moritur.
1 Cit:
We follow thee our chiefetaine euen in death,
Our towne is thine Lucretius: but we pray
For mercie for our children and our wiues.

moritur.
2 Cit:
O saue my sonne Lucretius, let him liue.

moritur.
Lucretius:
A wondrous and bewitched constancie,
Beseeming Marius pride and haughtie minde,
Come let vs charge the breach, the towne is ours
Both male and female put them to the sword:
So please you Scilla, and fulfill his word.

Exeunt
A little skirmish, a retreat: enter in royaltie Lucretius.
Lucret:
Now Romanes we haue brought Preneste low,
And Marius sleepes amidst the dead at last.
So then to Rome my countrimen with ioy,
VVhere Scilla waights the tidings of our fight.
Those prisners that are taken, see forthwith
VVith warlike iauelins you put them to death.
Come let vs march, see Rome in sight my harts,
VVhere Scilla waights the tidings of our warre.

Enter Scilla, Ualerius Flaccus: Lepidus, Pompey, Citizens Guard: Scilla seated in his roabes of state is saluted by the Citizens, &c.
Flaccus:
Romanes you know, and to your greefes haue seene
A world of troubles hatched here at home,
VVhich through preuention being welnigh crost
By worthie Scilla and his warlike band:
I Consull with these fathers thinke it meet
To fortifie our peace and Cities weale,
To name some man of worth that may supply
Dictators power and place, whose maiestie
Shall crosse the courage of rebellious mindes,
VVhat thinke you Romanes, will you condiscend?

Scilla:
Nay Flaccus, for their profits they must yeeld,
For men of meane condition and conceipt
Must humble their opinions to their lords,
And if my frends and Citizens consent
Since I am borne to manage mightie things,
I will (though loth) both rule and gouerne them.
I speake not this as though I wish to raigne,
But for to know my frends: and yet againe
I merrit Romanes feare more grace than this.

Flaccus:
I countrimen, if Scillas powre and minde
If Scillas vertue, courage and deuice,
If Scillas frends and fortunes merit fame,
None then but he should beare Dictators name.

Pompey:
VVhat think you Citizens, why stand ye mute?
Shall Scilla be Dictator here in Rome?

Citizens:
By full consent Scilla shalbe Dictator.

Flaccus:
Then in the name of Rome I here present
The rods and axes into Scillas hand,
And fortunate proue Scilla our Dictator.

Trumpets sound: crie wit him Scilla Dictator.
Scilla:
My fortunes Flaccus cannot be impeacht,
For at my birth the plannets passing kinde
Could entertaine no retrograde aspects.
And that I may with kindnes quite their loue,
My countrimen I will preuent the cause,
Gainst all the false encounters of mishap.
You name me your Dictator, but prefixe
No time, no course, but giue me leaue to rule,
And yet exempt me not from your reuenge:
Thus by your plesures being set aloft,
Straight by your furies I should quickly fall.
No Citizens, who readeth Scillas minde,
Must forme my titles in another kinde.
Either let Scilla be Dictator euer,
Or flatter Scilla with these titles neuer.

Citizens:
Perpetuall be thy glorie and renowne,
Perpetuall Lord Dictator shalt thou bee.

Pompey:
Hereto the Senate frankly doth agree.

Scilla:
Then so shall scilla raigne you Senators,
Then so shall Scilla rule you Citizens:
As Senators and Citizens that please mee
Shall be my frends, the rest cannot disease mee.
Enter Lucretius with souldiers.
But see whereas Lucretius is returnde.
Welcome braue Romaine where is Marius?
Are these Prenestians put vnto the sword.

Lucre:
The Cittie noble Scilla raced is,
And Marius dead not by our swords my Lord,
But with more constancie than Cato died.

Scilla:
VVhat constancie and but a verie boy,
VVhy then I see he was his fathers sonne,
But let vs haue this constancie describde.

Lucr:
After our fearce assaults, and their resist,
Our seige, their salying out to stop our trench:
Labor and hunger rayning in the towne,
The yonger Marius on the Citties wall,
Vouchsafte an interparle at the last:
VVherein with constancie and courrage too,
He boldly armed his freends him selfe to death.
And spreading of his coloures on the wall,
For answere saide he could not brooke to yeeld,
Or trust a tyrant such as Scilla was.

Scilla:
VVhat did the bransicke boy vpbraid me so?
But let vs heare the rest Lucretius.

Lucre:
And after great perswsassons to his freends
And worthy resolution of them all:
He first did sheath his ponyard in his breast,
And so in order dyed all the rest.

Scilla:
Now by my sword this was a worthy iest,
Yet silly boy I needs must pittie thee,
VVhose noble minde could neuer mated bee.
Beleeue me countrymen a sodaine thought,
A sodaine change in Scilla now hath wrought.
Old Marius and his sonne were men of name,
Nor Fortunes laughes, nor lowers their minds could tame,
And when I count their fortunes that are past,
I see that death confirmde their fames at last.
Then he that striues to manage mightie things,
Amidst his triumphes gaines a troubled minde.
The greatest hope the greater harme it bringes:
And pore men in content their glory finde.
If then content be such a pleasant thing,
VVhy leaue I country life to liue a king?
Yet Kings are Gods and make the proudest stoope,
Yee but themselues are still pursude with hate:
And men were made to mount and then to droope.
Such chances wait vpon incertaine fate,
That where she kisseth once shee quelleth twice,
Then who so liues content is happy wise.
VVhat motion moueth this Philosophy?
Oh Scilla see the Ocean ebbs and floats.
The spring-time wanes when winter draweth me.
I, these are true and most assured notes.
Inconstant chance such tickle turnes hath lent,
As who so feares no fall, must seeke content.

Flaccus:
VVhilst grauer thoughts of honor shuld allure thee
VVhat maketh scilla muse and mutter thus?

scilla:
I that haue past amidst the mightie troopes
Of armed legions through a world of warre,
Doo now bethinke me Flaccus on my chance,
How I alone where manie men were slaine,
In spite of Fate am come to Rome againe,
And lo I wield the reuerend stiles of state,
Yea, Scilla with a becke could breake thy necke.
VVhat Lord of Rome hath darde as much as I?
Yet Flaccus knowst thou not that I must die?
The laboring sisters on the weary Loombs,
Haue drawne my webb of life at length I know:
And men of witt must thinke vpon their tombes.
For beasts with careles steps to Lethe goe:
Where men whose thoughts and honors clime on hie,
Liuing with fame, must learne with fame to die.

Pomp:
What lets my Lord in gouerning this state,
To liue in rest and die with honor too?

ssilla:
What lets me Pompey? why my curteous frend,
Can he remaine secure that weilds a charge?
Or thinke of wit when flattrers doo commend?
Or be aduisde that careles runs at large?
No Pompey, honnie words makes foolish mindes,
And powre the greatest wit with error blindes.
Flaccus, I murdred Anthonie thy frend,
Romanes: some here haue lost at my commaund
Their Fathers, Mothers, Brothers, and Allies,
And thinke you Scilla thinking these misdeeds,
Bethinks not on your grudges and mislike?
Yes Countrimen I beare them still in minde.
Then Pompey were I not a silly man,
To leaue my Rule and trust these Romans than?

Pompey:
Your Grace hath small occasions of mistrust,
Nor seeke these Citizens for your disclaime.

scilla:
But Pompey now these reaching plumes of pride.
That mounted vp my fortunes to the Clowds,
By graue conceits shall straight be laid aside,
And scilla thinks of farre more simple shrowds,
For hauing tride occasion in the throne,
Ile see if she dare frowne when state is gone.
Loe senators, the man that sate aloft,
Now deignes to giue inferiors highest place.
Loe here the man whom Rome repined oft,
A priuate man, content to brooke disgrace,
Romanes, loe here the axes, rods and all,
Ile master fortune, least she make me thrall.
Now who so list accuse me, tell my wrongs,
Vpbraid me in the presence of this state.
Is none these iolly Citizens among,
That will accuse or say I am ingrate.
Then will I say and boldly boast my chaunces,
That nought may force the man whom Fate aduances.

Flaccus:
what meaneth scilla in this sullen moode,
To leaue his titles on the sodaine thus?

scilla:
Consull I meane with calme and quiet mind,
To passe my daies while happy death I finde.

Pomp:
What greater wrong, than leaue thy countrey so?

scilla:
Both it and life must scilla leaue in time.

Cit:
Yet during life haue care of Rome and vs.

scilla:
O wanton world that flatterst in thy prime,
And breathest balme and poyson mixt in one.
See how these wauering Romaines wisht my raigne,
That why lom sought and sought to haue me slaine,
My Countrymen this Cittie wants no store
Of Fathers warriors to supplie my roome,
So grant me peace and I will die for Rome.

Enter two Burgers to them Poppey and Curtall.
Curtall:

These are verie indiscreet counsailes neighbor
Poppey, and I will follow your misaduisement.

Poppey:

I tell you goodman Curtall the wenche hath
wrong, oh vaine world, oh foolish men, could a man in nature
cast a wench downe, and disdaine in nature to lift hir vp
again? could he take away hir dishonestie without bouncing
vp the banes of matrimonie? oh learned Poet wel didst thou
write Fustian verse.

These maides are dawes that goe to the lawes and a babe
in the belly.

Cur:

Tut man tis the way the world must follow, for
maides must be kinde, good husbands to finde.

Poppey:

But marke the fierce if they swell before, it will
grieue them sore. but see yondes Master scilla, faith a prettie
fellow is a.

Scilla:

what seekes my countrymen? what would my
freendes?

Curt:

Nay sir your kinde words shall not serue the turne,
why thinke you to thrust your souldiers into our kindred
with your curtesies sir.

Poppey:

I tel you Master scilla my neighbour wil haue
the Law, he had the right he wil haue the wrong for therein
dwels the Law.

Consull:

what desires these men of Rome?

Cur:

Neighbour sharpen the edge tole of your wits vpon
the whetstone of indiscretion that your wordes may shaue
like the rasers of Palermo, you haue learning with ignorance
therefore speake my tale.

Popp.

Then worshipfull Master Scilla, be it knowne vnto
you, that my neighbors daughter Doritie was a maid of
restoritie, faire fresh and fine as a merrie cup of wine. Her
eies like two potcht egges, great and goodly her legs, but
marke my dolefull dittie, alas for woe and pittie: a souldier
of yours vpon a bed of flowers, gaue her such a fall, as she
lost maidenhead and all. And thus in verie good time I end
my rudefull rime.

Scilla:
And what of this my frend, why seeke you mee,
Who haue resignd my titles and my state
To liue a priuate life as you doo now?
Goe moue the Consull Flaccus in this cause,
VVho now hath power to execute the lawes.

Curtall:

And are you no more Master dix cator, nor Generalitie
of the souldiers?

Scilla:

My powers doo cease, my titles are resignd,

Curtall:

Haue you signd your titles: O base minde, that
being in the powles steeple of honor, hast cast thy selfe into
the sinke of simplicitie. Fie beast, were I a king, I would
day by day sucke vp white bread and milke, and go a ietting
in a iacket of silke, my meat shou'd be the curds, my drinke
should be the whey, and I wold haue a mincing lasse to loue
me euerie day.

Poppey:

Nay goodman Curtall, your discretions are verie
simple, let me cramp him with a reason, Sirrha, whether
is better good ale or small beere? Alas see his implicitie that
cannot answere me: why I say ale.

Curtall:

And so say I neighbor.

Poppey:

Thou hast reason, ergo say I tis better be a King
than a clowne. Faith master Scilla, I hope a man maye now
call ye knaue by authoritie.

Scilla:
VVith what impatience heare I these vpbraides
That whilome plagude the least offence with death.
Oh Scilla these are stales of desteny,
By some vpbraids to try thy constancie.
My friends these scornes of yours perhaps will moue,
The next Dictator shun to yeeld his state,
For feare he finde as much as Scilla doth.
But Flaccus, to preuent their further wrong,
Vouchsafe some Lictor may attach the man,
And doo them right that thus complaine abuse.

Flaccus:
Sirrha, goe you and bring the souldier
That hath so loosly leant to lawles lust,
VVe will haue meanes sufficient be assurd
To coole his heate, and make the wanton chast.

Curtall:

We thanke your mastership: come neighbour,
let vs iog, faith this newes will set my daughter Dorothie a
gog.

Exeunt cum Lictore.
Scilla:
Graue Senators and Romanes, now you see
The humble bent of Scillas changed minde.
Now will I leaue you Lords, from courtly traine
To dwel content amidst my country caue,
VVhere no ambitious humors shall approch,
The quiet silence of my happy sleepe.
Where no delicious Iouisance or toyes,
Shall tickle with delight my tempered eares,
But wearying out the lingering day with toile,
Tyring my veines and furrowing of my soule.
The silent night with slumber stealing on
Shall locke these carefull closets of mine eies.
Oh had I knowne the height of happines,
Or bent mine eies vpon my mother earth:
Long since O Rome had Scilla with reioyce
Forsaken armes to leade a priuate life.

Flaccus:
But in this humblenes of minde my Lord,
VVhereas experience prooude and Art doo meete.
How happy were these faire Italian fields,
If they were graced with so sweete a sunne:
Then I for Rome and Rome with me requires,
That Scilla will abide and gouerne Rome.

Scilla:
O Flaccus, if th'Arabian Phœnix striue
By natures warning to renue her kinde,
VVhen soaring nie the glorious eye of heauen,
Shee from her cinders doth reuiue her sexe.
VVhy should not Scilla learne by her to die?
That earst haue beene the Phœnix of this land.
And drawing neere the sunne-shine of content,
Perish obscure to make your glories growe.
For as the higher trees do shield the shrubs,
From posting Phlegons warmth and breathing fire.
So mighty men obscure each others fame,
And make the best deseruers fortunes game.
Enter Genius.
But ah what sodaine furies doo affright?
VVhat apparitious fantasies are these?
Oh let me rest sweete Lords, for why me thinks,
Some fatall spells are sounded in mine eares.

Genius:
Subsequitur tua mors: priuari lumine Scillam,
Numina Parcarum iam fera precipiunt.
Precipiunt fera iam Parcarum numina, Scillam,
Lumine priuari, mors tua subsequitur.
Elysium petis, ô fœlix! & fatidici a stri:
Præscius Heroas, ô petis innumeros!
Innumeros petis ô Heroas! præscius astri
Fatidici: & fœlix, ô petis Elisium!

Euanescit subitò.
Scilla:
Ergóne post dulces annos properantia fata?
Ergóne iam tenebræ præmia lucis erunt?
Attamen, vt vitæ fortunam gloria mortis
Vincat, in extremo funere cantet olor.

Pom:
How fares my Lord? what dreadful thoughts are these
VVhat doubtfull answeres on a sodaine thus?

Scilla:
Pompey the man that made the world to stoope,
And fettered fortune in the chaines of powre,
Must droope and draw the Chariot of Fate
Along the darksome bankes of Acheron.
The heauens haue warnd me of my present fall.
Oh call Cornelia forth, let Scilla see
His daughter Fuluia ere his eyes be shut.

Exit one for Cornelia.
Flaccus:
VVhy Scilla, where is now thy wonted hope
In greatest hazard of vnstaied chance?
VVhat shall a little biting blast of paine
Blemish the blossomes of thy wonted pride?

Scilla:
My Flaccus, worldly ioyes and pleasures fade,
Inconstant time like to the fleeting tide
VVith endles course mans hopes doth ouer-beare?
Nought now remaines that Scilla faine would haue,
But lasting fame when bodie lies in graue.

Enter Cornelia, Fuluia.
Cornelia:
How fares my Lord? how doth my gentle Scilla?

Scilla:
Ah my Cornelia passing happie now,
Free from the world, allied vnto the heauens,
Not curious of incertaine chaunces now.

Cornelia:
VVords full of woe still adding to my griefe,
A curelesse crosse of many hundreth harmes.
Oh let not Rome and poore Cornelia loose,
The one hir frend, the other her delight.

scilla:
Cornelia, man hath power by some instinct
And gracious reuolution of the starres,
To conquer kingdomes not to master fate:
For when the course of mortall life is runne,
Then Clotho ends the web hir sister spun.
Pompey, Lord Flaccus, fellow senators,
In that I feele the faintfull deawes of death
steeping mine eies within their chilly wet,
The care I haue of wife and daughter both,
Must on your wisedomes happily ielie.
VVith equall distribution see you part,
My lands and goods betwixt these louely twaine.
Onely bestow a hundred thousand Sestercies,
Vpon my friends and fellow souldiers.
Thus hauing made my finall testament,
Come Fuluia let thy father lay his hand,
Vpon thy louely bosome and intreat
A vertuous boone and fauour at thy hands.
Faire Romane maide, see that thou wed thy faires,
To modest vertuous and delightfull thoughts:
Let Rome in viewing thee behold thy sire,
Honour Cornelia from whose fruitfull woombe,
Thy plenteous beauties sweetly did appeare,
And with this Lesson louely maide farewell.

Fuluia:
oh tedious and vnhappy chance for me.

scilla:
Content thee Fuluia, for it needes must bee.
Cornelia I must leaue thee to the world,
And by those loues that I haue lent thee oft,
In mutuall wedlocke rytes and happie warre.
Remember Scilla in my Fuluia stil:
Consull farewell, my Pompey I must hence,
And farewel Rome, and Fortune now I blesse thee,
That both in life and death wouldst not oppresse mee.

dies.
Cornelia:
oh hideous stormes of neuer danted fate,
Now are those eyes whose sweet reflections coold
The smothered rancors of rebellious thoughts
Clad with the fable mantles of the night.
And like the tree that robd of sunne and showres
Mournes desolate withouten leafe or sap:
so poore Cornelia late bereft of loue,
Sits sighing, haples, ioyles and forlorne.

Fuluia:
Gone is the flower that did adorne our fields,
Fled are those sweete reflections of delight,
Dead is my Father, Fuluia dead is hee
In whom thy life, for whom thy death must bee.

Flaccus:
Ladies, to tyre the time in restles mone
VVere tedious vnto frends and nature too,
Sufficeth you that Scilla so is dead,
As fame shall sing his power though life be fled.

Pompey:
Then to conclude his happines my Lords,
Determine where shall be his Funerall.

Lepidus:
Euen there where other Nobles are interd.

Pompey:
VVhy Lepidus what Romane euer was,
That merited so high a name as hee?
Then why with simple pompe and funerall
VVould you intombe so rare a paragon?

Corn:
An vrne of gold shall hem his ashes in,
The Vestall virgins with their holy notes
Shall sing his famous (though too fatall) death.
I and my Fuluia with dispersed haire
VVill waight vpon this noble Romanes hearse.

Fuluia:
And Fuluia clad in blacke & mournfull pale
VVill waight vpon her fathers funerall.

Pomp:
Come beare we hence this trophee of renowne,
VVhose life, whose death was farre from fortunes frowne.

Exeunt omnes.
The Funeralls of Scilla in great pompe.