SCENE IV.

_Enter_ Chilax, _at one door_, Licinius, _and_ Balbus, _at another_.

_Lici._ How how?

_Chi._ She's come.

_Bal._ Then I'le to th' Emperour.-- [_Exit_ Balbus.

_Chi._ Do; Is the Musick placed well?

_Lici._ Excellent.

_Chi._ _Licinius_, you and _Proclus_ receive her In the great Chamber, at her entrance, Let me alone; and do you hear _Licinius_, Pray let the Ladies ply her further off, And with much more discretion: one word more.

_Lici._ Well.

_Chi._ Are the Jewels, and those ropes of Pearl,

_Enter Emperour_, Balbus, _and_ Proc[u]lus.

Laid in the way she passes?

_Lici._ Take no care man-- [_Exit_ Licinius.

_Emp._ What is she come?

_Chil._ She is Sir; but 'twere best, Your Grace were seen last to her.

_Emp._ So I mean; Keep the Court emptie _Proculus_.

_Pro._ 'Tis done Sir.

_Emp._ Be not too sudden to her.

_Chil._ Good your Grace, Retire, and man your self; let us alone, We are no children this way: do you hear Sir? 'Tis necessary that her waiting women Be cut off in the Lobby, by some Ladies, They'd break the business else.

_Emp._ 'Tis true, they shall.

_Chil._ Remember your place _Proculus_.

_Pro._ I warrant ye.-- [_Exeunt Emp._ Bal. _and_ Pro.

_Enter_ Lucina, Claudia, _and_ Marcellina.

_Chi._ She enters: who are waiters there? the Emperour Calls for his Horse to air himself.

_Luci._ I am glad, I come so happily to take him absent, This takes away a little fear; I know him, Now I begin to fear again: O honour, If ever thou hadst temple in weak woman, And sacrifice of modesty burnt to thee, Hold me fast now, and help me.

_Chil._ Noble _Madam_, Ye are welcom to the Court, most nobly welcom, Ye are a stranger Lady.

_Luci._ I desire so.

_Chil._ A wondrous stranger here, Nothing so strange: And therefore need a guide I think.

_Luci._ I do Sir, And that a good one too.

_Chil._ My service Lady, Shall be your guide in this place; But pray ye tell me, Are ye resolv'd a Courtier?

_Luci._ No I hope Sir.

_Clau._ You are, Sir?

_Chil._ Yes, my fair one.

_Clau._ So it seems, You are so ready to bestow your self, Pray what might cost those Breeches?

_Chil._ Would you wear 'em? _Madam_ ye have a witty woman.

_Mar._ Two Sir, Or else ye underbuy us.

_Luci._ Leave your talking: But is my Lord here, I beseech ye, Sir?

_Chil._ He is sweet Lady, and must take this kindly, Exceeding kindly of ye, wondrous kindly Ye come so far to visit him: I'le guide ye.

_Luci._ Whither?

_Chil._ Why to your Lord.

_Luci._ Is it so hard Sir, To find him in this place without a Guide? For I would willingly not trouble you.

_Chil._ It will be so for you that are a stranger; Nor can it be a trouble to do service To such a worthy beauty, and besides--

_Mar._ I see he will goe with us.

_Clau._ Let him amble.

_Chil._ It fits not that a Lady of your reckoning Should pass without attendants.

_Luci._ I have two Sir.

_Chil._ I mean without a man; You'l see the Emperour?

_Luci._ Alas I am not fit Sir.

_Chil._ You are well enough, He'l take it wondrous kindly: Hark.

_Luci._ Ye flatter, Good Sir, no more of that.

_Chil._ Well, I but tell ye.

_Luc._ Will ye goe forward, since I must be man'd, Pray take your place.

_Claud._ Cannot ye man us too Sir?

_Chil._ Give me but time.

_Mar._ And you'l try all things.

_Chil._ No: I'le make no such promise.

_Claud._ If ye do Sir, Take heed ye stand to't.

_Chil._ Wondrous merry Ladies. [_Ex._

_Enter_ Licinius, _and_ Proculus, Balbus.

_Luci._ The wenches are dispos'd, pray keep your way Sir.

_Lici._ She is coming up the stairs; Now the Musick; And as that stirs her, let's set on: perfumes there.

_Pro._ Discover all the Jewels.

_Lici._ Peace. [_Musick._

SONGS.

_Now the lusty Spring is seen,_ _Golden yellow, gaudy Blew,_ _Daintily invite the view._ _Every where, on every Green,_ _Roses blushing as they blow,_ _And inticing men to pull,_ _Lillies whiter than the snow,_ _Woodbines of sweet hony full._ _All Loves Emblems and all cry,_ _Ladys, if not pluckt we dye._

_Yet the lusty Spring hath staid,_ _Blushing red and purest white,_ _Daintily to love invite,_ _Every Woman, every Maid,_ _Cherries kissing as they grow;_ _And inviting men to taste,_ _Apples even ripe below,_ _Winding gently to the waste:_ _All loves emblems and all cry,_ _Ladies, if not pluckt we dye._

SECOND.

_Hear ye Ladies that despise_ _What the mighty Love has done,_ _Fear examples, and be wise,_ _Fair_ Calisto _was a Nun,_ Læda _sailing on the stream,_ _To deceive the hopes of man,_ _Love accounting but a dream,_ _Doted on a silver Swan,_ Danae _in a Brazen Tower,_ _Where no love was, lov'd a Showr._

_Hear ye Ladys that are coy,_ _What the mighty Love can do,_ _Fear the fierceness of the Boy,_ _The chaste Moon he makes to wooe:_ Vesta _kindling holy fires,_ _Circled round about with spies,_ _Never dreaming loose desires,_ _Doting at the Altar dies._ Ilion _in a short hour higher_ _He can build, and once more fire._

_Enter_ Chilax, Lucina, Claudia, _and_ Marcellina.

_Luci._ Pray Heaven my Lord be here, for now I fear it. Well Ring, if thou bee'st counterfeit, or stoln, As by this preparation I suspect it, Thou hast betrai'd thy Mistris: pray Sir forward, I would fain see my Lord.

_Chil._ But tell me _Madam_, How do ye like the Song?

_Luci._ I like the air well, But for the words, they are lascivious, And over light for Ladies.

_Chil._ All ours love 'em.

_Luci._ 'Tis like enough, for yours are loving Ladies.

_Lici._ _Madam_, ye are welcom to the Court. Who waits? Attendants for this Lady.

_Luci._ Ye mistake Sir; I bring no triumph with me.

_Lici._ But much honour.

_Pro._ Why this was nobly done; and like a neighbour, So freely of your self to be a visitant, The Emperour shall give ye thanks for this.

_Luci._ O no Sir; There's nothing to deserve 'em.

_Pro._ Yes, your presence.

_Luci._ Good Gentlemen be patient, and believe I come to see my husband, on command too, I were no Courtier else.

_Lici._ That's all one Lady, Now ye are here, y'are welcom, and the Emperour Who loves ye, but too well.

_Luci._ No more of that Sir. I came not to be Catechiz'd.

_Pro._ Ah Sirrah; And have we got you here? faith Noble Lady, We'l keep you one month Courtier.

_Luci._ Gods defend Sir, I never lik'd a trade worse.

_Pro._ Hark ye.

_Luci._ No Sir.

_Pro._ Ye are grown the strangest Lady.

_Luci._ How?

_Pro._ By Heaven, 'Tis true I tell ye, and you'l find it.

_Luci._ I? I'le rather find my grave, and so inform him.

_Pro._ Is it not pity Gentlemen, this Lady, (Nay I'le deal roughly with ye, yet not hurt ye) Sho[u]ld live alone, and give such heavenly beauty Only to walls, and hangings?

_Luci._ Good Sir, patience: I am no wonder, neither come to that end, Ye do my Lord an injury to stay me, Who though ye are the Princes, yet dare tell ye He keeps no wife for your wayes.

_Bal._ Well, well Lady; However you are pleas'd to think of us, Ye are welcom, and ye shall be welcome.

_Luci._ Shew it In that I come for then, in leading me Where my lov'd Lord is, not in flattery:-- [_Jewels shew'd._ Nay ye may draw the Curtain, I have seen 'em, But none worth half my honesty.

_Claud._ Are these Sir, Laid here to take?

_Pro._ Yes, for your Lady, Gentlewomen.

_Mar._ We had been doing else.

_Bal._ Meaner Jewels Would fit your worths.

_Claud._ And meaner clothes your bodies.

_Luci._ The Gods shall kill me first.

_Lici._ There's better dying; I'th' Emperours arms goe to, but be not angry-- These are but talks sweet Lady.

_Enter_ Phorba, _and_ Ardelia.

_Phor._ Where is this stranger? rushes, Ladys, rushes, Rushes as green as Summer for this stranger.

_Pro._ Here's Ladies come to see you.

_Luci._ You are gone then? I take it 'tis your _Qu_.

_Pro._ Or rather manners, You are better fitted _Madam_, we but tire ye, Therefore we'l leave you for an hour, and bring Your much lov'd Lord unto you-- [_Exeunt._

_Luci._ Then I'le thank ye, I am betrai'd for certain; well _Lucina_, If thou do'st fall from vertue, may the Earth That after death should shoot up gardens of thee, Spreading thy living goodness into branches, Fly from thee, and the hot Sun find thy vices.

_Pho._ You are a welcom woman.

_Ard._ Bless me Heaven, How did you find the way to Court?

_Luci._ I know not, Would I had never trod it.

_Phor._ Prethee tell me, Good noble Lady, and good sweet heart love us, For we love thee extreamly; is not this place A Paradise to live in?

_Luci._ To those people That know no other Paradise but pleasure, That little I enjoy contents me better.

_Ard._ What, heard ye any Musick yet?

_Luci._ Too much.

_Phor._ You must not be thus froward; what, this gown Is one o'th' prettiest by my troth _Ardelia_, I ever saw yet; 'twas not to frown in Lady, Ye put this gown on when ye came.

_Ard._ How do ye? Alas poor wretch how cold it is!

_Luci._ Content ye; I am as well as may be, and as temperate, If ye will let me be so: where's my Lord? For there's the business that I came for Ladies.

_Phor._ We'l lead ye to him, he's i'th' Gallery.

_Ard._ We'l shew ye all the Court too.

_Luci._ Shew me him, And ye have shew'd me all I come to look on.

_Phor._ Come on, we'l be your guides, and as ye goe, We have some pretty tales to tell ye Lady, Shall make ye merry too; ye come not here, To be a sad _Lucina_.

_Luci._ Would I might not.-- [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Chilax, _and_ Balbus.

_Chil._ Now the soft Musick; _Balbus_ run--

_Bal._ I flye Boy-- [_Exit_ Balbus.

_Chil._ The women by this time are worming of her,-- If she can hold out them, the Emperour [_Musick._ Takes her to task: he has her; hark the Musick.

_Enter_ Emperour, _and_ Lucina.

_Luci._ Good your Grace, Where are my women Sir?

_Emp._ They are wise, beholding What you think scorn to look on, the Courts bravery: Would you have run away so slily Lady, And not have seen me?

_Luci._ I beseech your Majestie, Consider what I am, and whose.

_Emp._ I do so.

_Luci._ Believe me, I shall never make a whore Sir.

_Emp._ A friend ye may, and to that man that loves ye, More than you love your vertue.

_Luci._ Sacred _Cæsar_.

_Emp._ You shall not kneel to me sweet.

_Luci._ Look upon me, And if ye be so cruel to abuse me, Think how the Gods will take it; does this beauty Afflict your soul? I'le hide it from you ever, Nay more, I will become so leprous, That ye shall curse me from ye: My dear Lord Has serv'd ye ever truly, fought your Battels, As if he daily long'd to dye for _Cæsar_, Was never Traytor Sir, nor never tainted In all the actions of his life.

_Emp._ I know it.

_Luci._ His fame and family have grown together, And spred together like to sailing Cedars, Over the _Roman_ Diadem; O let not, As ye have any flesh that's humane in you, The having of a modest wife decline him, Let not my vertue be the wedge to break him. I do not think ye are lascivious, These wanton men belye ye, you are _Cæsar_, Which is the Father of the Empires honour, Ye are too near the nature of the Gods, To wrong the weakest of all creatures, women.

_Emp._ I dare not do it here, rise fair _Lucina_, I did but try your temper, ye are honest, And with the commendations wait on that I'le lead ye to your Lord, and give you to him: Wipe your fair eyes: he that endeavours ill, May well delay, but never quench his hell.-- [_Exeunt._

_Actus Tertius. Scena Prima._

_Enter_ Chilax, Licinius, Proculus, _and_ Balbus.

_Chil._ 'Tis done _Licinius_.

_Lici._ How?

_Chil._ I shame to tell it, If there be any justice, we are Villains, And must be so rewarded.

_Bal._ If it be done, I take it 'tis no time now to repent it, Let's make the best o'th' trade.

_Pro._ Now vengeance take it, Why should not he have setled on a beauty, Whose honesty stuck in a piece of tissue, Or one a Ring might rule, or such a one That had an itching husband to be honourable, And ground to get it: if he must have women, And no allay without 'em, why not those That know the misery, and are best able To play a game with judgement? such as she is, Grant they be won with long siege, endless travel, And brought to opportunity with millions, Yet when they come to motion, their cold vertue Keeps 'em like cakes of Ice; I'le melt a Crystal, And make a dead flint fire himself, e're they Give greater heat, than new departing embers Give to old men that watch 'em.

_Lici._ A good Whore Had sav'd all this, and happily as wholsom, I, and the thing once done too, as well thought of, But this same chastity forsooth.

_Pro._ A Pox on't, Why should not women be as free as we are? They are, but not in open, and far freer, And the more bold ye bear your self, more welcom, And there is nothing you dare say, but truth, But they dare hear.--

_Enter_ Emperour, _and_ Lucina.

_Chi._ The Emperour! away, And if we can repent, let's home and pray. [_Exeunt._

_Emp._ Your only vertue now is patience, Take heed, and save your honour; if you talk.

_Luci._ As long as there is motion in my body, And life to give me words, I'le cry for justice.

_Emp._ Justice shall never hear ye, I am justice.

_Luci._ Wilt thou not kill me, Monster, Ravisher, Thou bitter bane o'th' Empire, look upon me, And if thy guilty eyes dare see these ruines, Thy wild lust hath laid level with dishonour, The sacrilegious razing of this Temple, The mother of thy black sins would have blush'd 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 continued surfeit, Like poyson will disgorge thee, good men raze thee For ever being read again,--but vicious Women, and fearfull Maids, make vows against thee: Thy own Slaves, if 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, Tir'd with thy Tyrannies, break through obedience, And shake his strong Steel at thee.

_Emp._ This prevails not; Nor any Agony ye utter Lady, If I have done a sin, curse her that drew me, Curse the first cause, the witchcraft that abus'd me, Curse those fair eyes, and curse that heavenly beauty, And curse your being good too.

_Luci._ Glorious thief, What restitution canst thou make to save me?

_Emp._ I'le ever love, and honour you.

_Luci._ Thou canst not, For that which was mine honour, thou hast murdred, And can there be a love in violence?

_Emp._ You shall be only mine.

_Luci._ Yet I like better Thy villany, than flattery, that's thine own, The other basely counterfeit; flye from me, Or for thy safety 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, th'art lost thy self too.

_Emp._ I fear no loss but love, I stand above it.

_Luci._ Call in your Lady Bawds, and guilded Pander's And let them triumph too, and sing to _Cæsar_, _Lucina's_ faln, the chast _Lucina's_ conquer'd; Gods! what a wretched thing has this man made me! For I am now no wife for _Maximus_, No company for women that are vertuous, No familie I now can claim, nor Country, Nor name, but _Cæsar_'s whore; O sacred _Cæsar_, (For that should be your title) was your Empire, Your Rods, and Axes, that are types of Justice, Those fires that ever burn, to beg you blessings, The peoples adoration, fear of Nations, What victory can bring ye home, what else The usefull Elements can make your servants, Even light it self, and suns of light, truth, Justice, Mercy, and starlike pietie sent to you, And from the gods themselves, to ravish women? The curses that I owe to Enemies, Even those the _Sabines_ sent, when _Romulus_, (As thou hast me) ravish'd their noble Maids, Made more, and heavier, light on thee.

_Emp._ This helps not.

_Luci._ 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 faln? What can your honours now, and Empire make me, But a more glorious Whore?

_Emp._ A better woman, But if ye will be blind, and scorn it, who can help it? Come leave these lamentations, they do nothing, But make a noyse, I am the same man still, Were it to do again; therefore be wiser, By all this holy light, I should attempt it, Ye are so excellent, and made to ravish, There were no pleasure in ye else.

_Luci._ Oh villain.

_Emp._ So bred for mans amazement, that my reason And every help to hold me right has lost me; The God of love himself had been before me Had he but power to see ye; tell me justly, How can I choose but err then? if ye dare Be mine, and only mine, for ye are so pretious, I envie any other should enjoy ye, Almost look on ye; and your daring husband Shall know h'as kept an offring from the Empire, Too holy for his Altars; be the mightiest, More than my self I'le make it: if ye will not Sit down with this, and silence, for which wisdom Ye shall have use of me, and much honour ever, And be the same you were; if ye divulge it, Know I am far above the faults I do, And those I do I am able to forgive too; And where your credit in the knowledge of it, May be with gloss enough suspected, mine Is as mine own command shall make it: Princes though they be sometime subject to loose whispers, Yet wear they two edged swords for open censures: Your husband cannot help ye, nor the Souldier; 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, For as they make me most, they mean me happiest, Which I had never been without this pleasure: Consider, and farewell: you'l find your women At home before ye, they have had some sport too, But are more thankful for it-- [_Exit Emperour._

_Luci._ Destruction find thee. Now which way must I go? my honest house Will shake to shelter me, my husband flee me, My Family, because they are honest, and desire to be so, Must not endure me, not a neighbour know me: What woman now dare see me without blushes, And pointing as I pass, there, there, behold her, Look on her little Children, that is she, That handsome Lady, mark; O my sad fortunes, Is this the end of goodness, this the price Of all my early prayers 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.

_Aeci._ Let _Titius_ Command the company that _Pontius_ lost, And see the Fosses deeper.

_Max._ How now sweet heart, What make you here, and thus?

_Aeci._ _Lucina_ weeping! This must be much offence.

_Max._ Look up and tell me, Why are you thus? My Ring? O friend, I have found it, Ye are at Court, sweet.

_Luci._ Yes, this brought me hither.

_Max._ Rise, and goe home: I have my fears _Aecius_: Oh my best friend, I am ruin'd; go _Lucina_, Already in thy tears I have read thy wrongs, Already found a _Cæsar_; go thou Lilly, Thou sweetly drooping flower: go silver Swan, And sing thine own sad requiem: goe _Lucina_, And if thou dar'st, outlive this wrong.

_Luci._ I dare not.

_Aeci._ Is that the Ring ye lost?

_Max._ That, that, _Aecius_, That cursed Ring, my self, and all my fortunes: 'Thas pleas'd the Emperour, my noble master, For all my services, and dangers for him, To make me mine own Pander, was this justice? Oh my _Aecius_, have I liv'd to bear this?

_Luci._ Farewel for ever Sir.

_Max._ That's a sad saying, But such a one becomes ye well _Lucina_: And yet me thinks we should not part so lightly, Our loves have been of longer growth, more rooted Than the sharp word 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?

_Luc._ O yes.

_Max._ I dare believe thee, For thou wert ever truth it self, and sweetness; Indeed she was, _Æcius_.

_Æcius._ So she is still.

_Max._ Once more, O my _Lucina_, O my Comfort, The blessing of my Youth, the 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? To me thou wert too chaste; fall Crystal Fountains, And ever feed your streams you rising sorrows, Till you have dropt your Mistris into Marble: Now go for ever from me.

_Luc._ Long farewel, Sir. And as I have been loyal, gods think on me.

_Max._ Stay, let me once more bid farewel, _Lucina_, Farewel thou excellent example of us, Thou starry Vertue, fare thee well, seek Heaven, And there by _Cassiopea_ shine in Glory, We are too base and dirty to preserve thee.

_Æcius._ Nay, I must kiss too; such a kiss again, And from a Woman of so ripe a Vertue, _Æcius_ must not take; Farewel thou _Phœnix_, If thou wilt dye, _Lucina_; which well weigh'd, If you can cease a while from these strange thoughts, I wish were rather alter'd.

_Luc._ No.

_Æcius._ Mistake not; I would not stain your honour for the Empire, Nor any way decline you to discredit, 'Tis not my fair profession, but a Villains; I find and feel your loss as deep as you do, And am the same, _Æcius_, still as honest, The same life I have still for _Maximus_, The same Sword wear for you, where Justice wills me, And 'tis no dull one; therefore misconceive me not; Only I would have you live a little longer, But a short year.

_Max._ She must not.

_Luc._ Why so long, Sir, Am I not grey enough with grief already?

_Æci._ 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 fair vertues, 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 with violence, To what ye have done, the deed is none of yours, No, nor the justice neither; ye may live, And still a worthier Woman, still more honoured; For are those trees the worse we tear the fruits from? Or should the eternal gods desire to perish Because we daily violate their truths, Which is the Chastity of Heaven? No, Lady, If ye dare live, ye may; and as our sins Make them more full of equity and justice, So this compulsive wrong makes you more perfect; The Empire too will bless you.

_Max._ Noble Sir, If she were any thing to me but honour, And that that's wedded to me too, laid in, Not to be worn away without my being; Or could the wrongs be hers alone, or mine, Or both our wrongs, not ty'd to after issues, Not born anew in all our names and kindreds, I would desire her live, nay more, compel her: But since it was not Youth, but Malice did it, And not her own, nor mine, but both our losses, Nor stays it there, but that our names must find it, Even those to come; and when they read, she liv'd, Must they not ask how often she was ravish'd, And make a doubt she lov'd that more than Wedlock? Therefore she must not live.

_Æcius._ Therefore she must live, To teach the world, such deaths are superstitious.

_Luc._ The tongues of Angels cannot alter me, For could the World again restore my Credit, As fair and absolute as first I bred it, That world I should not trust again: The Empire By my life, can get nothing but my story, Which whilst I breath must be but his abuses; And where ye counsel me to live, that _Cæsar_ May see his errours and repent, I'll tell ye, His penitence is but encrease of pleasures, His prayers 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 their honest Neighbour; If he can grieve As one that yet desires his free Conversion, And almost glories in his penitence, I'll leave him Robes to mourn in, my sad ashes.

_Æcius._ The farewels then of happy souls be with thee, And to thy memory be ever sung The praises of a just and constant Lady, This sad day whilst I live, a Souldiers tears I'll offer on thy Monument, and bring Full of thy noble self with tears untold yet, Many a worthy Wife, to weep thy ruine.

_Max._ All that is chaste upon thy Tomb shall flourish, All living Epitaphs be thine, Time, Story; And what is left behind to piece our lives Shall be no more abus'd with tales and trifles, But full of thee, stand to eternity.

_Æci._ Once more farewel, go find _Elyzium_, There where the happy Souls are crown'd with Blessings, There where 'tis ever Spring and ever Summer.

_Max._ There where no bedrid justice comes; truth, honour, Are keepers of that blessed Place; go thither, For here thou liv'st chaste Fire in rotten Timber.

_Æcius._ And so our last farewels.

_Max._ Gods give thee Justice-- [_Exit_ Lucina.

_Æcius._ His thoughts begin to work, I fear him, yet He ever was a noble _Roman_, but I know not what to think on't, he hath suffered Beyond a man if he stand this.

_Max._ _Æcius_, Am I alive, or has a dead sleep seiz'd me? It was my Wife the Emperour abus'd thus, And I must say I am glad I had her for him; Must I not, my _Æcius_?

_Æcius._ I am stricken With such a stiff amazement, that no answer Can readily come from me, nor no comfort; Will ye 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 unto me; A Pander is a Prince, to what I am faln; I dare do nothing.

_Æcius._ Ye do better.

_Max._ I am made a branded Slave, _Æcius_, And yet I bless the Maker; Death o' my Soul, must I endure this tamely? Must _Maximus_ be mention'd for his tales? I am a Child too; what should I do railing? I cannot mend my self, 'tis _Cæsar_ did it, And what am I to him?

_Æcius._ 'Tis well consider'd; However you are tainted, be no Traitor Time may outwear the first, the last lives ever.

_Max._ O that thou wert not living, and my friend.

_Æcius._ I'll bear a wary Eye upon your actions, I fear ye, _Maximus_, nor can I blame thee If thou break'st out, for by the gods thy wrong Deserves a general ruine: do ye love me?

_Max._ That's all I have to live on.

_Æcius._ Then go with me, Ye 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 dangerous, and o' my Conscience, Should I now see the Emperour i'th' heat on't, I should not chide him for't, an awe runs through 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 ye, And how far ye dare do; no _Roman_ farther, Nor with more fearless Valour; and I'll watch ye, Keep that obedience still.

_Max._ Is a Wifes loss (For her abuse much good may do his Grace, I'll make as bold with his Wife, if I can) More than the fading of a few fresh colours, More than a lusty spring lost?

_Æcius._ No more, _Maximus_, To one that truly lives. _Æcius_:

_Max._ Why, then I care not, I can live well enough, 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.

_Max._ But Chastity is not a thing I take it To get in _Rome_, unless it be bespoken A hundred years before; Is it _Æcius_? By'r Lady, and well handled too i'th' breeding.

_Æcius._ Will ye go any way?

_Max._ I'll tell thee, friend; If my Wife for all this should be a Whore now, A kind of Kicker out of sheets, 'twould vex me, For I am not angry yet; the Emperour Is young and handsome, and the Woman Flesh, And may not these two couple without scratching?

_Æcius._ Alas, my noble friend.

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

_Æcius._ Will ye walk yet?

_Max._ Come, come, she dare not dye, friend, that's the truth on't, She knows the inticing sweets and delicacies Of a young Princes pleasures, and I thank her, She has made a way for _Maximus_ to rise by. Will't not become me bravely? why do you think She wept, and said she was ravish'd? keep it here And I'll discover to you.

_Æcius._ Well.

_Max._ She knows I love no bitten flesh, and out of that hope She might be from me, she contriv'd this knavery; Was it not monstrous, friend?

_Æcius._ Does he but seem so, Or is he mad indeed?

_Max._ Oh gods, my heart!

_Æcius._ Would it would fairly break.

_Max._ Methinks I am somewhat wilder than I was, And yet I thank the gods I know my duty.

_Enter_ Claudia.

_Claud._ Nay, you may spare your tears; she's dead. She is so.

_Max._ Why, so it should be: how?

_Claud._ When first she enter'd Into her house, after a world of weeping, And blushing like the Sun-set, as we see her; Dare I, said she, defile this house with Whore, In which his noble Family has flourish'd? At which she fell, and stir'd no more; we rub'd her. [_Exit_ Clau.

_Max._ No more of that; be gone; now my _Æcius_, If thou wilt do me pleasure, weep a little, I am so parch'd I cannot: Your example Has brought the rain down now: now lead me friend, And as we walk together, let's pray together truly, I may not fall from faith.

_Æcius._ That's nobly spoken.

_Max._ Was I not wild, _Æcius_?

_Æcius._ Somewhat troubled.

_Max._ I felt no sorrow then; Now I'll go with ye, But do not name the Woman; fye, what fool Am I to weep thus? Gods, _Lucina_, take thee, For thou wert even the best and worthiest Lady.

_Æcius._ Good Sir, no more, I shall be melted with it.

_Max._ I have done, and good Sir comfort me; Would there were wars now.

_Æcius._ Settle your thoughts, come.

_Max._ So I have now, friend, Of my deep lamentations here's an end. [_Exeunt._

[SCENE II.]

_Enter_ Pontius, Phidias, _and_ Aretus.

_Phid._ By my faith, Captain _Pontius_, besides pity Of your faln fortunes, what to say I know not, For 'tis too true the Emperour desires not, But my best master, any souldier near him.

_Aret._ And when he understands, he cast your fortunes For disobedience, how can we incline him, (That are but under persons to his favours) To any fair opinion? Can ye sing?

_Pont._ Not to please him, _Aretus_, for my Songs Go not to th' Lute, or Viol, but to th' Trumpet, My tune kept on a Target, and my subject The well struck wounds of men, not love, or women.

_Phid._ And those he understands not.

_Pont._ He should, _Phidias_.

_Aret._ Could you not leave this killing way a little? You must, if here you would plant your self, and rather Learn as we do, to like what those affect That are above us; wear their actions, And think they keep us warm too; what they say, Though oftentimes they speak a little foolishly, Not stay to construe, but prepare to execute, And think however the end falls, the business Cannot run empty handed.

_Phid._ Can ye flatter, And if it were put to you, lye a little?

_Pont._ Yes, if it be a living.

_Aret._ That's well said then.

_Pont._ But must these lies and flatteries be believ'd then?

_Phid._ Oh yes, by any means.

_Pon._ By any means then I cannot lie nor flatter.

_Aret._ Ye must swear too, If ye be there.

_Pont._ I can swear if they move me.

_Phid._ Cannot ye forswear too?

_Pont._ The Court for ever, If it be grown so wicked.

_Aret._ You should procure a little too.

_Pont._ What's that? Mens honest sayings for my truth?

_Aret._ Oh no, Sir; But womens honest actions for your trial.

_Pont._ Do you do all these things?

_Phid._ Do you not like 'em?

_Pont._ Do you ask me seriously, or trifle with me? I am not so low yet to be your mirth.

_Are._ You do mistake us, Captain, for sincerely, We ask you how you like 'em?

_Pon._ Then sincerely, I tell ye I abhor 'em; they are ill ways, And I will starve before I fall into 'em, The doers of 'em Wretches, their base hungers Care not whose Bread they eat, nor how they get it.

_Aret._ What then, Sir?

_Pon._ If you profess this wickedness, Because ye have been Souldiers, and born Arms, The Servants of the brave _Æcius_, And by him put to th' Emperour, give me leave, Or I must take it else, to say ye are Villains, For all your Golden Coats, debosh'd, base Villains, Yet I do wear a Sword to tell you so, Is this the way you mark out for a Souldier, A Man that has commanded for the Empire, And born the Reputation of a Man? Are there not lazie things enough call'd fools and cowards, And poor enough to be prefer'd for Panders, But wanting Souldiers must be Knaves too? ha! This the trim course of life; were not ye born Bawds, And so inherit but your Rights? I am poor, And may expect a worse; yet digging, pruning, Mending of broken ways, carrying of water, Planting of Worts and Onions, any thing That's honest, and a Mans, I'll rather chuse, I, and live better on it, which is juster, Drink my well gotten water with more pleasure, When my endeavours done, and wages paid me, Than you do wine, eat my course Bread, not curst, And mend upon't, your diets are diseases, And sleep as soundly, when my labour bids me, As any forward Pander of ye all, And rise a great deal honester; my Garments, Though not as yours, the soft sins of the Empire, Yet may be warm, and keep the biting wind out, When every single breath of poor opinion Finds you through all your Velvets.

Put us good men to th' Emperour, so we have serv'd him, Though much neglected for it; So dare be still; Your Curses are not ours; we have seen your fortune, But yet know no way to redeem it: Means, Such as we have, ye shall not want, brave _Pontius_, But pray be temperate, if we can wipe out The way of your offences, we are yours, Sir; And you shall live at Court an honest Man too.

_Phid._ That little meat and means we have, we'll share it, Fear not to be as we are; what we told ye, Were but meer tryals of your truth: y'are worthy, And so we'll ever hold ye; suffer better, And then you are a right Man, _Pontius_, If my good Master be not ever angry, Ye shall command again.

_Pont._ I have found two good men: use my life, For it is yours, and all I have to thank ye-- [_Exeunt._