University of Virginia Library

ACT. IV.

SCEN. II.

Enter Chylax at one Door, Lycinius and Balbus at another.
Lyc.
How now!

Chy.
Shee's come.

Balb.
Then I'l to the Emperor!
[Ex. Balb.

Chy.
Is the Musick plac'd well?

Lyc.
Excellent.

Chy.
Lycinius, you and Proculus receive 'em
In the great Chamber at her Entrance.

Lycin.
Let us alone.

Chy.
And do you here Lycinius.
Pray let the Women ply her farther off.
And with much more Discretion, one word more
Are all the Maskers ready?

Lycin.
Take no care man.

[Ex.
Chyl.
I am all over in a Sweat with Pimping;
'Tis a laborious moyling Trade this.—

Enter Emperor, Balb. and Procul.
Emp.
Is she come?

Chy.
She is, Sir! but 'twere best
That you were last seen to her.

Emp.
So I mean.
Keep your Court empty Proculus.

Proc.
'Tis done Sir.

Emp.
Be not too sudden to her.

Chy.
Good sweet Sir
Retire and Man your self: Let us alone,
We are no Children this way: One thing Sir!
'Tis necessary, that her She-Companions
Be cut off in the Lobby by the Women,
They'l break the Business else.

Emp.
'Tis true: They shall.

Chy.
Remember your Place, Proculus.

Proc.
I warrant you—

[Ex. Emp. Balb. and Proculus.
Enter Lucina, Claudia, Marcellina and Lycias.
Chyl.
She enters! Who waits there? The Emperor
Calls for his Chariots, He will take the Air.

Lucin.
I am glad I came in such a happy hour
VVhen hee'l be absent: This removes all Fears;
But Lycias lead me to my Lord,
Heav'n grant he be not gone.

Lyc.
Faith, Madam, that's uncertain!
I'l run and see. But if you miss my Lord
And find a better to supply his Room,
A Change so happy will not discontent you.—

[Exit.
Luc.
VVhat means that unwonted Insolence of this Slave?
Now I begin to fear again. Oh—Honour,
If ever thou hadst Temple in weak VVoman
And Sacrifice of Modesty offer'd to Thee
Hold me fast now and Ile be safe for ever.

Chy.
The fair Lucina; Nay then I find
Our Slander'd-Court has not sinn'd up so high
To fright all the good Angels from its Care,
Since they have sent so great a Blessing hither.
Madam—I beg th'Advantage of my Fortune,
VVho as I am the first have met you here,
May humbly hope to be made proud and happy
VVith the honour of your first Command and Service.

Lucin.
Sir—I am so far from knowing how to merit
Your Service, that you Complements too much,
And I return it you with all my heart.
You'l want it Sir, for those who know you better.

Chy.
Madam, I have the honour to be own'd
By Maximus for his most humble Servant,
Which gives me Confidence.

Marc.
Now Claudia, for a Wager,
What thing is this that cringes to my Lady?

Claud.
Why some grave States-man, by his looks a Courtier.

Marc.
Claudia a Bawd: By all my hopes a Bawd!
What use can reverend Gravity be of here,
To any but a trusty Bawd?
States-men are markt for Fops by it, besides
Nothing but Sin and Laziness could make him
So very fat, and look so fleshy on't.

Lucin.
But is my Lord not gone yet do you say Sir?

Chy.
He is not Madam, and must take this kindly,
Exceeding kindly of you, wondrous kindly,
You come so far to visit him. I'le guide you.

Lucin.
Whither?

Chy.
Why to my Lord.

Lucin.
Is it impossible
To find him in this Place without a Guide,
For I would willingly not trouble you?

Chy.
My only trouble, Madam, is my fear,
I'm too unworthy of so great an Honour.
But here you're in the publick Gallery,
Where th'Emperor must pass, unless you'd see him.

Lucin.
Bless me Sir—No—pray lead me any whither,
My Lord cannot be long before he finds me.

[Exeunt.
Enter Lycinius, Proculus, and Balbus. Musick.
Lycin.
She's coming up the Stairs: now the Musick,
And as that softens—her love will grow warm,
Till she melts down. Then Cæsar lays his Stamp.
Burn these Perfumes there.

Proc.
Peace, no noise without.

Enter Chyl. Lucina, Claudia, Marcellina.
Lucin.
Where is this Wretch, this Villain Lycias?
Pray Heav'n my Lord be here; for now I fear it.
I am certainly betray'd. This cursed Ring
Is either counterfeit or stoln.

Claud.
Your fear
Does but disarm your Resolution,
Which may defend you in the worst Extreams:
Or if that fail. Are there not Gods and Angels?

Lucin.
None in this Place I fear but evil ones.
Heav'n pity me.

Chy.
But tell me, dearest Madam,
How do you like the Song?

Lucin.
Sir, I am no Judge
Of Musick, and the words, I thank my Gods,
I did not understand.

Chy.
The Emperor
Has the best Talent at expounding 'em;
You'l ne'r forget a Lesson of his Teaching.

Lucin.
Are you the worthy Friend of Maximus
Would lead me to him? He shall thank you Sir,
As you desire.

Chy.
Madam, he shall not need,
I have a Master will reward my Service,
When you have made him happy with your Love,
For which he hourly languishes—Be kind—

[Whispers.
Lucin.
The Gods shall kill me first.

Chy.
Think better on't.
'Tis sweeter dying in th'Emperor's Arms.
Enter Phorba and Ardellia.
But here are Ladies come to see you, Madam,
They'l entertain you better. I but tire you;
Therefore I'le leave you for a while, and bring
Your lov'd Lord to you—

[Exit.
Lucin.
Then I'le thank you.
I am betray'd for certain.

Phorb.
You are a welcome Woman

Ard.
Bless me Heaven!
How did you find your way to Court?

Lucin.
I know not; would I had never trod it.

Phorb.
Prithee tell me.
[Call Emperor behind.
Good pretty Lady, and dear sweet Heart, love us,
For we love thee extreamly. Is not this Place
A Paradise to live in?

Lucin.
Yes to you,
Who know no Paradise but guilty Pleasure.

Ard.
Heard you the Musick yet?

Lucin.
'Twas none to me.

Phor.
You must not be thus froward. Well, this Gown
Is one o'th' prettiest, by my troth Ardelia,
I ever saw yet; 'twas not to frown in, Madam.
You put this Gown on when you came.

Ard.
How dee ye?
Alas, poor Wretch, how cold it is!

Lucin.
Content you.
I am as well as may be, and as temperate,
So you will let me be so—Where's my Lord?
For that's the business I come for hither.

Phor.
We'l lead you to him: he's i'th' Gallery.

Ard.
We'l shew you all the Court too.

Lucin.
Shew me him, & you have shew'd me all I come to look on.

Phor.
Come on, we'l be your Guides; and as you go,
We have some pretty Tales to tell you, Madam,
Shall make you merry too. You come not hither
To be sad, Lucina.

Lucin.
Would I might not—

[Exeunt.
Enter Chylax and Balbus in haste.
Chyl.
Now see all ready, Balbus: run.

Balb.
I fly Boy—

[Exit.
Chy.
The Women by this time are warning of her,
If she holds out them; the Emperor
Takes her to task—he has her—Hark, I hear 'em.

Enter Emperor drawing in Lucina. Ring.
Emp.
Would you have run away so slily, Madam?

Lucin.
I beseech you Sir,
Consider what I am, and whose.

Emp.
I do so.
For what you are, I am fill'd with such Amaze,
So far transported with Desire and Love,
My slippery Soul flows to you while I speak,
And whose you were, I care not, for now you are mine,
Who love you, and will doat on you more
Than you do on your Vertue.

Lucin.
Sacred Cæsar.

Emp.
You shall not kneel to me; rise.

Lucin.
Look upon me,
And if you be so cruel to abuse me,
Think how the Gods will take it. Does this Face
Afflict your Soul? I'le hide it from you ever;
Nay more, I will become so leprous,
That you shall curse me from you. My dear Lord
Has ever serv'd you truly—fought your Battels,
As if he daily long'd to die for Cæsar;
Was never Traitor Sir, nor never tainted,
In all the Actions of his Life.

Emp.
How high does this fantastick Vertue swell?
She thinks it Infamy to please too well.
[Aside.
I know it—

[To her.
Lucin.
His Merits and his Fame have grown together,
Together flourish'd like two spreading Cedars,
Over the Roman Diadem. O let not.
(As you have a Heart that's humane in you)
The having of an honest Wife decline him;
Let not my Vertue be a Wedge to break him,
Much less my Shame his undeserv'd Dishonour.
I do not think you are so bad a man;
I know Report belyes you; you are Cæsar,
Which is the Father of the Empires Glory:
You are too near the Nature of the Gods,
To wrong the weakest of all Creatures, Woman.

Emp.
I dare not do it here. Rise, fair Lucina.
[Aside.
When you believe me worthy, make me happy
Chylax; wait on her to her Lord within.
Wipe your fair Eyes—
[Exeunt.
Ah Love! ah cursed Boy!
Where art thou that torments me thus unseen,
And ragest with thy Fires within my Breast,
With idle purpose to inflame her Heart,
Which is as inaccessible and cold,
As the proud tops of those aspiring Hills,
Whose Heads are wrapt in everlasting Snow,
Tho' the hot Sun roll o're 'em every day?
And as his Beams, which only shine above,
Scorch and consume in Regions round below,
Soft Love which throws such brightness thro' her eyes,
Leaves her Heart cold, and burns me at her feet;
My Tyrant, but her flattering Slave thou art,
A Glory round her lovely Face, a Fire within my Heart.
Who waits without? Lycinius?

Enter Lycinius.
Lycin.
My Lord.

Emp.
Where are the Masquers that should dance to night?

Lycin.
In the old Hall Sir, going now to practise.

Emp.
About it strait. 'Twill serve to draw away
Those listning Fools, who trace it in the Gallery;
And if by chance odd noises should be heard,
As Womens Shrieks, or so, say, 'tis a Play
Is practising within.

Lycin.
The Rape of Lucrece,
Or some such merry Prank—It shall be done Sir.

[Ex.
Emp.
'Tis nobler like a Lion to invade,
Where Appetite directs, and seize my Prey,
Than to wait tamely like a begging Dog,
Till dull Consent throws out the Scraps of Love.
I scorn those Gods who seek to cross my Wishes,
And will inspite of 'em be happy: Force
Of all the Powers is the most generous;
For what that gives, it freely does bestow,
Without the after-Bribe of Gratitude.
I'le plunge into a Sea of my Desires,
And quench my Fever, tho' I drown my Fame,
And tear up Pleasure by the Roots: No matter
Tho' it never grow again; what shall ensue,
Let Gods and Fate look to it; 'tis their Business.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

Opens and discovers 5 or 6 Dancing-masters practising.
1 Dan.
That is the damn'st shuffling Step, Pox on't.

2 Dan.
I shall never hit it.
Thou hast naturally
All the neat Motions of a merry Tailor,
Ten thousand Riggles with thy Toes inward,
Cut clear and strong: let thy Limbs play about thee;
Keep time, and hold thy Back upright and firm:
It may prefer thee to a waiting Woman.

1 Dan.
Or to her Lady, which is worse.

Enter Lycinius.
[Ten dance.
Lycin.
Bless me, the loud Shrieks and horrid Outcries
Of the poor Lady! Ravishing d'ye call it?
She roars as if she were upon the Rack:
'Tis strange there should be such a difference
Betwixt half-ravishing, which most Women love,
And through force, which takes away all Blame,
And should be therefore welcome to the vertuous.
These tumbling Rogues, I fear, have overheard 'em;
But their Ears with their Brains are in their Heels.
Good morrow Gentlemen:
What is all perfect? I have taken care
Your Habits shall be rich and glorious.

3 Dan.
That will set off. Pray sit down and see,
How the last Entry I have made will please you.

Second Dance.
Lycin.
'Tis very fine indeed.

2 Dan.
I hope so Sir—
[Ex. Dancers.

Enter Chyl. Proculus and Lycias.
Proc.
'Tis done Lycinius.

Lycin.
How?

Proc.
I blush to tell it.
If there be any Justice, we are Villains,
And must be so rewarded.

Lycias.
Since 'tis done,
I take it is not time now to repent it,
Let's make the best of our Trade.

Chy.
Now Vengeance take it:
Why should not he have settl'd on a Beauty,
Whose Modesty stuck in a piece of Tissue?
Or one a Ring might rule? or such a one
That had a Husband itching to be honourable,
And ground to get it? If he must have Women,
And no allay without 'em, why not those
That know the Mystery, and are best able
To play a Game with judgment, such as she is?
Grant they be won with long siege, endless travel,
And brought to opportunities with millions,
Yet when they come to Motion, their cold Vertue
Keeps 'em like Beds of Snow.

Lycin.
A good Whore
Had sav'd all this, and happily as wholsom,
And the thing once done as well thought of too.
But this same Chastity forsooth.

Chy.
A Pox on't.
Why should not Women be as free as we are?
They are, but will not own it, and far freer,
And the more bold you bear your self, more welcom,
And there is nothing you dare say but Truth,
But they dare hear.

Proc.
No doubt of it—away,
Let them who can repent, go home and pray.

[Exeunt.
Scene opens, discovers th'Emperor's Chamber. Lucina newly unbound by th'Emperor.
Emp.
Your only Vertue now is Patience,
Be wise and save your Honour; if you talk—

Lucin.
As long as there is Life in this Body,
And Breath to give me words, I'le cry for Justice.

Emp.
Justice will never hear you; I am Justice.

Lucin.
Wilt thou not kill me Monster, Ravisher?
Thou bitter Bane o'th' Empire, look upon me,
And if thy guilty eyes dare see the Ruines
Thy wild Lust hath laid level with Dishonour,
The sacrilegious razing of that Temple,
The Tempter to thy black sins would have blusht at.
Behold, and curse thy self. The Gods will find thee,
That's all my Refuge now, for they are righteous;
Vengeance and Horror circle thee. The Empire,
In which thou liv'st a strong continu'd Surfeit,
Like Poyson will disgorge thee; good men raze thee
From ever being read agen;
Chast Wives and fearful Maids make Vows against thee;
Thy worst Slaves, when they hear of this, shall hate thee,
And those thou hast corrupted, first fall from thee,
And if thou let'st me live, the Souldier
Tired with thy Tyrannies break thro' Obedience,
And shake his strong Steel at thee.

Emp.
This prevails not,
Nor any Agony you utter Madam:
If I have done a sin, curse her that drew me;
Curse the first Cause, the Witchcraft that abus'd me;
Curse your fair Eyes, and curse that heav'nly Beauty,
And curse your being good too.

Lucin.
Glorious Thief!
What restitution canst thou make to save me?

Emp.
I'le ever love—and ever honour you.

Lucin.
Thou canst not;
For that which was my Honour, thou hast murder'd;
And can there be a Love in Violence?

Emp.
You shall be only mine.

Lucin.
Yet I like better
Thy Villainy than Flattery; that's thy own,
The other basely counterfeit. Fly from me,
Or for thy safeties sake and wisdom kill me;
For I am worse than thou art: Thou maist pray,
And so recover Grace—I am lost for ever,
And if thou let'st me live, thou'rt lost thy self too.

Emp.
I fear no loss but Love—I stand above it.

Lucin.
Gods! what a wretched thing has this man made me?
For I am now no Wise for Maximus;
No Company for Women that are vertuous;
No Family I now can claim or Countrey,
Nor Name but Cæsar's Whore: Oh sacred Cæsar!
(For that should be your Title) was your Empire,
Your Rods and Axes that are Types of Justice,
And from the Gods themselves—to ravish Women.
The Curses that I owe to Enemies, ev'n those the Sabins sent,
When Romulus (as thou hast me) ravisht their noble Maids,
Made more and heavier light on thee.

Emp.
This helps not.

Lucin.
The sins of Tarquin be remember'd in thee,
And where there has a chast Wife been abus'd,
Let it be thine, the Shame thine, thine the Slaughter,
And last for ever thine the fear'd Example.
Where shall poor Vertue live now I am fallen?
What can your Honours now and Empire make me,
But a more glorious Whore?

Emp.
A better Woman.
If you be blind and scorn it, who can help it?
Come leave these Lamentations; you do nothing
But make a noise—I am the same man still,
Were it to do agen: Therefore be wiser; by all
This holy Light I would attempt it.
You are so excellent, and made to ravish,
There were no pleasure in you else.

Lucin.
Oh Villain!

Emp.
So bred for man's Amazement, that my Reason
And every help to do me right has left me:
The God of Love himself had been before me,
Had he but Eyes to see you, tell me justly
How should I choose but err—then if you will
Be mine and only mine (for you are so precious)
I envy and other should enjoy you;
Almost look on you, and your daring Husband
Shall know he has kept an Off'ring from th'Emperor,
Too holy for the Altars—be the greatest;
More than my self I'le make you; if you will not,
Sit down with this and silence: for which wisdom,
You shall have use of me, if you divulge it,
Know I am far above the faults I do,
And those I do, I am able to forgive;
And where your credit in the telling of it
May be with gloss enough suspected mine
Is as my own Command shall make it. Princes
Tho' they be sometimes subject to loose Whispers,
Yet wear they two edg'd Swords for open Censures:
Your Husband cannot help you, nor the Souldiers;
Your Husband is my Creature, they my Weapons,
And only where I bid 'em strike—I feed 'em,
Nor can the Gods be angry at this Action,
Who as they made me greatest, meant me happiest,
Which I had never been without this pleasure.
Consider, and farewel. You'l find your Women
Waiting without.
[Ex. Emperor.

Lucin.
Destruction find thee.
Now which way shall I go—my honest House
Will shake to shelter me—my Husband fly me,
My Family,
Because they're honest, and desire to be so.
Is this the end of Goodness? This the price
Of all my early pray'rs to protect me?
Why then I see there is no God—but Power,
Nor Vertue now alive that cares for us,
But what is either lame or sensual;
How had I been thus wretched else?

Enter Maximus and Æcius.
Æcius.
Let Titus
Command the Company that Pontius lost.

Max.
How now sweet Heart!
What make you here and thus?

Æcius.
Lucina weeping.
This is some strange offence.

Max.
Look up and tell me.
Why art thou thus? my Ring! oh Friend I have found it!
You are at Court then.

Lucin.
This and that vile Wretch Lycias brought me hither.

Max.
Rise and go home. I have my Fears, Æcius.
Oh my best Friend! I am ruin'd. Go Lucina,
Already in thy tears I've read thy Wrongs.
Already found a Cæsar? Go thou Lilly,
Thou sweetly drooping Flower; be gone, I say,
And if thou dar'st—outlive this Wrong.

Lucin.
I dare not.

Æcius.
Is that the Ring you lost?

Max.
That, that Æcius,
That cursed Ring, my self and all my Fortunes have undone.
Thus pleas'd th'Emperor, my noble Master,
For all my Services and Dangers for him,
To make me my own Pandar! was this Justice?
Oh my Æcius! have I liv'd to bear this?

Lucin.
Farewel for ever Sir.

Max.
That's a sad saying;
But such a one becomes you well, Lucina.
And yet methinks we should not part so slightly;
Our Loves have been of longer growth, more rooted
Than the sharp blast of one Farewel can scatter.
Kiss me—I find no Cæsar here. These Lips
Taste not of Ravisher, in my opinion.
Was it not so?

Lucin.
O yes.

Max.
I dare believe you.
I know him and thy truth too well to doubt it.
Oh my most dear Lucina! oh my Comfort!
Thou Blessing of my Youth! Life of my Life!

Æcius.
I have seen enough to stagger my Obedience.
Hold me, ye equal Gods! this is too sinful.

Max.
Why wert thou chosen out to make a Whore of,
Thou only among millions of thy Sex?
Unfeignedly vertuous! fall, fall chrystal Fountains,
And ever seed your Streams, you rising Sorrows,
Till you have wept your Mistress into marble.
Now go for ever from me.

Lucin.
A long farewel Sir!
And as I have been faithful, Gods, think on me.

Æcius.
Madam farewel, since you resolve to die.
Which well consider'd,
If you can cease a while from these strange thoughts,
I wish were rather alter'd.

Lucin.
No.

Æcius.
Mistake not.
I would not stain your Vertue for the Empire,
Nor any way decline you to Dishonour:
It is not my profession, but a Villain's;
I find and feel your loss as deep as you do,
And still am the same Æcius, still as honest;
The same Life I have still for Maximus,
The same Sword wear for you where Justice bids me,
And 'tis no dull one. Therefore misconceive me not.
Only I'd have you live a little longer.

Lucin.
Alas Sir! why
Am I not wretched enough already?

Æcius.
To draw from that wild man a sweet repentance,
And goodness in his days to come.

Max.
They are so.
And will be ever coming, my Æcius.

Æcius.
For who knows but the sight of you, presenting
His swoln sins at the full, and your wrong'd Vertue,
May like a fearful Vision fright his Follies,
And once more bend him right again, which Blessing
If your dark Wrongs would give you leave to read,
Is more than Death, and the Reward more glorious;
Death only eases you. This the whole Empire
Besides compell'd and forc'd by violence,
To what was done. The deed was none of yours;
For should th'eternal Gods desire to perish,
Because we daily violate their Truth,
Which is the Chastity of Heav'n? No Madam—

Lucin.
The Tongues of Angels cannot alter me.
For could the World again restore my Honour,
As fair and absolute as ere I bred it,
That World I should not trust; again, the Emperor
Can by my Life get nothing but my Story,
Which whilst I breathe must be his Infamy:
And where you counsel me to live, that Cæsar
May see his Errors and repent; I'le tell you,
His Penitence is but increase of Pleasure;
His Pray'rs are never said but to deceive us;
And when he weeps, (as you think, for his Vices)
'Tis but as killing Drops from baleful Yew-trees,
That rot his harmless Neighbours, if he can grieve
As one that yet desires his free Conversion,
I'le leave him Robes to mourn in—my sad Ashes.

Æcius.
The Farewel then of happy Souls be with thee,
And to thy Memory be ever sung,
The Praises of a just and constant Woman:
This sad day whilst I live, a Souldier's Tears
I'le offer on thy Monument.

Max.
All that is chast upon thy Tomb shall flourish;
All living Epitaphs be thine; Times Story,
And what is left behind to piece our Lives,
Shall be no more abus'd with Tales and Trifles.

Æcius.
But full of thee stand to Eternity,
Once more farewel—Go find Elizium,
There where deserving Souls are crown'd with Blessings.

Max.
There where no vicious Tyrants come: Truth, Honour,
Are keepers of that blest Place; go thither.

[Ex. Lucina.
Æcius.
Gods give thee Justice.
His Thoughts begin to work, I fear him yet;
He ever was a worthy Roman, but
I know not that to think on't. He has suffer'd
Beyond a man, if he stand this.

Max.
Æcius,
Am I alive, or has a dead Sleep seiz'd me?
It was my Wife th'Emperor abus'd thus,
And I must say—I am glad I had her for him.
Must I not Æcius?

Æcius.
I am stricken
With such a stiff Amazement, that no Answer
Can readily come from me, nor no Comfort.
Will you go home, or go to my House?

Max.
Neither.
I have no home, and you are mad Æcius,
To keep me Company—I am a Fellow
My own Sword would forsake, not tyed to me.
By Heav'n I dare do nothing.

Æcius.
You do better.

Max.
I am made a branded Slave, Æcius,
Yet I must bless the Maker.
Death on my Soul! shall I endure this tamely?
Must Maximus be mention'd for his Wrongs?
I am a Child too; what do I do railing?
I cannot mend my self. 'Twas Cæsar did it.
And what am I to him?

Æcius.
'Tis well remember'd;
However you are tainted, be not Traitor.

Max.
O that thou wert not living, and my Friend!

Æcius.
I'le bear a wary Eye upon your Actions:
I fear you, Maximus, nor can I blame you,
If you break out; for by the Gods, your Wrong
Deserves a general Ruine. Do you love me?

Max.
That's all I have to live on.

Æcius.
Then go with me.
You shall not to your own House.

Max.
Nor to any.
My Griefs are greater far than Walls can compass;
And yet I wonder how it happens with me.
I am not dang'rous, and in my Conscience,
Should I now see the Emperor i'th' heat on't,
I should scarce blame him for't: an awe runs thro' me,
I feel it sensibly that binds me to it,
'Tis at my Heart now, there it sits and rules,
And methinks 'tis a pleasure to obey it.

Æcius.
This is a Mask to cozen me. I know you,
And how far you dare do. No Roman farther,
Nor with more fearless valour, and I'le watch you.

Max.
Is a Wifes loss—
More than the fading of a few fresh Colours?

Æcius.
No more, Maximus,
To one that truly lives.

Max.
Why then I care not; I can live well enough, Æcius:
For look you, Friend, for Vertue and those Trifles,
They may be bought they say.

Æcius.
He's craz'd a little.
His grief has made him talk things from his nature.
Will you go any ways?

Max.
I'le tell thee Friend,
If my Wife for all this should be a Whore now,
'Twou'd vex me,
For I am not angry yet. The Emperor
Is young and handsom, and the Woman Flesh,
And may not these two couple without Scraching?

Æcius.
Alas, my Maximus!

Max.
Alas not me, I am not wretched, for there's no man miserable
But he that makes himself so.

Æcius.
Will you walk yet?

Max.
Come, come; she dares not die, Friend, thats' the truth on't,
She knows the enticing Sweets and Delicacies
Of a young Princes Pleasure, and I thank her,
She has made way for Maximus to rise.
Wilt not become me bravely?

Æcius.
Dearest Friend,
These wild words shew your violated mind,
Urg'd with the last extremity of grief;
Which since I cannot like a Man redress,
With tears I must lament it like a Child;
For when 'tis Cæsar does the injury,
Sorrow is all the Remedy I know.

Max.
'Tis then a certain truth that I am wrong'd,
Wrong'd in that barb'rous manner I imagin'd:
Alas, I was in hopes I had been mad,
And that these Horrors which invade my Heart,
Were but distracted melancholy Whimseys:
But they are real truths (it seems) and I
The last of men, and vilest of all Beings.
Bear me cold Earth, who am too weak to move
Beneath my load of Shame and Misery!
Wrong'd by my lawful Prince, robb'd of my Love,
Branded with everlasting infamy.
Take pity Fate, and give me leave to die:
Gods! would you be ador'd for being good,
Or only fear'd for proving mischievous?
How would you have your Mercy understood?
Who could create a Wretch like Maximus,
Ordain'd tho' guiltless to be infamous?
Supream first Causes! you, whence all things flow,
Whose infiniteness does each little fill,
You, who decree each seeming Chance below,
(So great in Power) were you as good in Will,
How could you ever have produc'd such ill?
Had your eternal minds been bent to good?
Could humane happiness have prov'd so lame,
Rapine, Revenge, Injustice, thirst of Blood,
Grief, Anguish, Horror, Want, Despair and Shame,
Had never found a Being nor a Name.
'Tis therefore less impiety to say,
Evil with you has Coeternity,
Than blindly taking it the other way,
That merciful and of election free,
You did create the mischiefs you foresee.
Wretch that I am, on Heav'n to exclame,
When this poor tributary Worm below,
More than my self in nothing but in name,
Who durst invade me with this fatal Blow,
I dare not crush in the revenge I owe.
Not all his Power shall the wild Monster save;
Him and my shame I'le tread into one Grave.

Æcius.
Does he but seem so?
Or is he mad indeed?—Now to reprove him,
Were council lost; but something must be done
With speed and care, which may prevent that Fate
Which threatens this unhappy Emperor.

Max.
O Gods! my Heart, would it would fairly break;
Methinks I am somewhat wilder than I was,
And yet I thank the Gods I know my Duty.

Enter Claudia.
Claud.
Forgive me my sad Tidings Sir—She's dead,

Max.
Why so it should be— [He rises]
How?

Claud.
When first she enter'd
Into the House, after a world of weeping,
And blushing like the Sun set—
Dare I, said she, defile my Husband's House,
Wherein his spotless Family has flourisht?
At this she fell—Choakt with a thousand sighs!
And now the pleas'd expiring Saint,
Her dying Looks, where new born Beauty shines,
Opprest with Blushes, modestly declines,
While Death approacht with a Majestick Grace,
Proud to look lovely once in such a Face:
Her Arms spread to receive her welcome Guest,
With a glad sigh she drew into her Breast:
Her Eyes then languishing tow'rds Heaven she cast,
To thank the Powers that Death was come at last.
And at the approach of the cold silent God;
Ten thousand hidden Glories rush'd abroad.

Max.
No more of this—Begon. Now my Æcius,
If thou wilt do me pleasure, weep a little;
I am so parcht I cannot—Your Example
Has taught my tears to flow—Now lead away Friend,
And as we walk together—Let us pray,
I may not fall from truth,

Æcius.
That's nobly spoken.

Max.
Was I not wild, Æcius?

Æcius.
You were troubled.

Max.
I felt no sorrows then, but now my Grief,
Like festering Wounds grown cold begins to smart,
The raging Anguish gnaws and tears my Heart.
Lead on and weep, but do not name the Woman.

[Exeunt.