University of Virginia Library

SCE. IV.

Enter Stephanus solus.
Ste.
And must I still live this unmanly life?
Still brook a Rival? No—In Princes favours
There is no middle 'twixt the top, and bottom;
Their minds are large, but various, and cloy'd
Sooner than others, easily o'relooking,
Their first election—Sure the Emperor loves me;
I never wrong'd him in my thought—He does;
I'll ne're dispute it further—But what is't
Unless I could engross him—There's Basilius
Keeps even pace in's favour, and may in time
Get the start o'me, if I don't prevent him:
No more—He falls—'Tis here, as 'tis in prospects,
When others come on, we think our selves go back.
Enter Philo as going hastily over the Stage.
Whither so hasty man?

Phil.
I cannot stay,
I'll wait upon you presently again.

as he goes out he drops a Letter. Ste. takes it up.
Ste.
How now! more work! it is the Emperors hand;
To Tripsicus!'s heart—A promooting Rogue!
And can you stoop so low—Then I see any thing
Will serve your turn—This Letter may beget
Right understanding 'twixt us—Well—I'll read it.
He reads,

Pray mind what I hinted you last—Affairs run high at
present, but I shall wether'um,

Ste.
(Good! Good! Good!)

—9, 41, and 85 meet at night—200 will tell you where it
is—Things are not yet ripe enough to own you publickly—

Ste.
(Better, and better)

—You know your work—either
bring the Account your self or send it by 90.—I had rather
the latter.

Your beloved friend A.

A.
—That's Andronicus—I'm sure the hand
Is all his own—Super-excellent!
Y'faith! y'faith! and does the wind blow there!

Philo returns in hast.
Phil.
Dropt I no Letter Sir?

Ste.
You best know that
Your self: What letter? or to whom directed?
Sure Philo you're in love, you're grown forgetful:
You know you stopt not here—Come, tell me true;
'Twas from your Mis'—And you're afraid another
May take the Scent—Peuh! he'll but squeeze thy Orange,
And thou maist have't agen:—

Phil.
In troth I'm serious,
And if it be n't within, am lost for ever.
Exit Philo

Ste.
My pocket, thad'st hit right—Now for a trick
To kill two birds with one stone—Make me
A property! An idle stale!—I have't,
To see how luckily things hit—Andronicus
Finding the City troublesome, as resenting
Alexius murder, makes it his endeavour
To fetch off Constantinus to his party;
Perhaps to destroy me too—Not unlikely:
But I shall miss my aim, or I cross-bite him:

'Tis thus—I smoak'd the business, and judging it a
fit opportunity to ruine Basilius; went privately to Constantinus,
and struck up a friendship with him, and as a
first Act of it, bad him have a care of Basilius, whose civil
usage had no other respect, than to betray him to the loss
of his head, which (to my knowledge as I told him) Andronicus
had plotted, and would inevitably take effect,
unless he could turn the mischief upon t'other, by making
his escape—Whereupon (by my advice) he has posest
Basilius of a seeming repentance, for his former obstinacy,
and that he is both able, and willing to recover it,

by the discovery of a new plot;—The thing takes—Andronicus
has sent for him (I wonder he is not come yet)
But if he does not give them the go-by, I'll lose my head
—If he does—The work is done—Basilius destroy'd—
and consequently Andronicus disarm'd of the City, by
the falling of the power into my hands.

Now how I hug my self,
Who cannot make his Port with a fore-wind,
Must use a side-wind—Craft, where strength doth fail,
And piece the Lion with the Fox's tail.

Exit.