Fifty comedies and tragedies written by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, Gentlemen ; all in one volume, published by the authors original copies, the songs to each play being added.

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 Caesar, 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 Caesar's whore; O sacred Caesar, (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; ••our 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 mo••, they mean me happiest, Which I had never been without this pleasure: Consider, and farewell: you'l find your women At home before ye, ••••ey 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 O•• 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 Aecius.

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 Caesar; go thou Li••ly, 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 Caesar 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, Aecius.

Aecius.

So she is still.

Max.

Once more, O my Lucina, O my Comfort, The blessing of my Youth, the life of my life.

Aecius.

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 sta••y Vertue, fare thee well, seek Heaven, And there by Cassiopea shine in Glory, We are too base and dirty to preserve thee.

Aecius.

Nay, I must kiss too; such a kiss again, And from a Woman of so••e a Vertue, Aecius must not take; Farewel thou Phoenix, 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.

Aecius.

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, Aecius, 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?

Aeci.

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 Aecius.

Aecius.

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 ••ight again? which blessing (If your dark wrongs would give you leave to read) Is more than death, and the reward more glorious; Death, only ••as•• 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, no•• 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 〈◊〉〈◊〉 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 bo•••• 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.

Aecius.

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 Caesar 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.

Aecius.

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.

Aeci.

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.

Aecius.

And so our last farewels.

Max.

Gods give thee Justice—

Exit Lucina.

Aecius.

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.

Aecius, 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 Aecius?

Aecius.

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, Aecius, 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.

Aecius.

Ye do better.

Max.

I am made a branded Slave, Aecius, 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 Caesar did it, And what am I to him?

Aecius.

'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.

Aecius.

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.

Aecius.

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.

Aecius.

'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?

Aecius.

No more, Maximus, To one that truly lives.

Max.

Why, then I care not, I can live well enough, Aecius: For look you friend, for vertue, and those trifles, They may be bought they say.

Aecius.

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 Aecius? By't Lady, and well handled too i'th' breeding.

Aecius.

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?

Aecius.

Alas, my noble friend.

Max.

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

Aecius.

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.

Aecius.

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?

Aecius.

Does he but seem so, Or is he mad indeed?

Max.

Oh gods, my heart!

Aecius.

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 Aecius, 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.

Aecius.

That's nobly spoken.

Max.

Was I not wild, Aecius?

Aecius.

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.

Aecius.

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

Max.

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

Aecius.

Settle your thoughts, come.

Max.

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

Exeunt.

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.

VVhat'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, VVe ask you how you like 'em?

Pon.

Then sincerely,

••ell 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 C••r•• 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 A cius, 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 both 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, Men••ing of broken ways, carrying of water, Hanting 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 cursst, 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.

Aret.

You have hit it, Nor are we those we seem, the Lord Aecius 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 ••••lan 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.

〈◊〉〈◊〉.

I have found two good men: use my life, For it is yours, and all I have to thank ye—

Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Enter Maximus.

Max.

There's no way else to do it, he must dye, This friend must dye, this soul of Maximus, Without whom I am nothing but my shame, This perfectness that keeps me from opinion, Must dye, or I must live thus branded ever: A hard choice, and a fatal; Gods ye have given me A way to credit, but the ground to go on, Ye have levell'd with that precious life I love most, Yet I must on, and through, for if I offer To ta••••e my way without him, like a Sea He b a••s his high Command 'twixt me and vengeance, And in mine own road sinks me, he is honest, Of a most constant loyalty to Caesar, And when he shall but doubt, I dare attempt him, But make a question of his ill, but say What is a Caesar, that he dare do this, Dead sure he cuts me off; Aecius dyes, Or I have lost my self: why should I kill him? Why should I kill my self? for 'tis my killing, Aecius is my root, and wither him, Like a decaying Branch I fall to nothing. Is he not more to me than Wife, than Caesar? Though I had now my safe revenge upon him, Is he not more than rumour, and his friendship Sweeter than the love of women? what is honour We all so strangely are bewitch'd withal? Can it relieve me if I want? he has; Can honour 'twixt the incensed Prince and Envy, Bear up the lives of worthy men? he has; Can honour pull the wings of fearful Cowards, And make 'em turn again like Tigers? he has; And I have liv'd to see this, and preserv'd so: Why should this empty word incite me then To what is ill and cruel? let her perish. A friend is more than all the world, than honour; She is a woman and her loss the less, And with her go my griefs; but hark ye Maximus, Was she not yours? Did she not dye to tell ye She was a ravish'd woman? Did not Justice Nobly begin with her that not deserv'd it, And shall he live that did it? Stay a little, Can this abuse dye here? Shall not mens tongues Dispute it afterward, and say I gave (Affecting dull obedience, and tame duty, And led away with fondness of a friendship) The only vertue of the world to slander? Is not this certain, was not she a chaste one, And such a one, that no compare dwelt with her, One of so sweet a vertue that Aecius, Even he himself, this friend that holds me from it, Out of his worthy love to me, and justice, Had it not been on Caesar, had reveng'd her? He told me so; what shall I do then?

Enter a Servant.

Can other men affect it, and I cold? I fear he must not live.

Serv.

My Lord, the General Is come to seek ye.

Max.

Go, entreat him to enter; O brave Aecius, I could wish thee now As far from friendship to me, as from fears, That I might cut thee off, like that I weigh'd not, Is there no way without him to come near it? For out of honesty he must destroy me If I attempt it, he must dye as others, And I must lose him; 'tis necessity, Only the time and means is the difference; But yet I would not make a murther of him, Take him directly for my doubts; he shall dye, I have found a way to do it, and a safe one, It shall be honour to him too: I know not What to determine certain, I am so troubled, And such a deal of conscience presses me;

Enter Aecius.

Would I were dead my self.

Aecius.

You run away well; How got you from me, friend?

Max.

That that leads mad men, A strong imagination made me wander.

Aecius.

I thought you had been more setled.

Max.

I am well, But you must give me leave a little sometimes To have a buzzing in my brains.

Aecius.

Ye are dangerous, But I'll prevent it if I can; ye told me You would go to th' Army.

Max.

Why, to have my throat cut? Must he not be the bravest man, Aecius, That strikes me first?

Aeci.

You promised me a freedom From all these thoughts, and why should any strike you?

Max.

I am an Enemy, a wicked one, Worse than the foes of Rome, I am a Coward, A Cuckold, and a Coward, that's two causes Why every one should beat me.

Aeci.

Ye are neither; And durst another tell me so, he dyed for't, For thus far on mine honour, I'le assure you No man more lov'd than you, and for your valour, And what ye may be, fair; no man more follow'd.

Max.

A doughty man indeed: but that's all one, The Emperour nor all the Princes living Shall find a flaw in my Coat; I have suffer'd, And can yet; let them find inflictions, I'le find a body for 'em, or I'le break it. 'Tis not a Wife can thrust me out, some look't for't; But let 'em look till they are blind with looking, They are but fools; yet there is anger in me, That I would fain disperse, and now I think on't, You told me, friend, the Provinces are stirring, We shall have sport I hope then, and what's dangerous, A Battle shall beat from me.

Aeci.

Why do ye eye me, With such a setled look?

Max.

Pray tell me this, Do we not love extreamly? I love you so.

Aeci.

If I should say I lov'd not you as truly, I should do that I never durst do, lye.

Max.

If I should dye, would it not grieve you much?

Aeci.

Without all doubt.

Max.

And could you live without me?

Aeci.

It would much trouble me to live without ye. Our loves, and loving souls have been so us'd But to one houshold in us: but to dye Because I could not make you live, were woman, Far much too weak, were it to save your worth, Or to redeem your name from rooting out, To quit you bravely fighting from the foe, Or fetch ye off, where honour had ingag'd ye, I ought, and would dye for ye.

Max.

Truly spoken. What beast but I, that must, could hurt this man now? Would he had ravish'd me, I would have paid him, I would have taught him such a trick, his Eunuchs Nor all his black-eyed Boys dreamt of yet; By all the Gods I am mad now; now were Caesar Within my reach, and on his glorious top The pile of all the world, he went to nothing; The Destinies, nor all the dames of Hell, Were I once grappl'd with him, should relieve him, No not the hope of mankind more; all perished; But this is words, and weakness.

Aeci.

Ye look strangely.

Max.

I look but as I am, I am a stranger.

Aeci.

To me?

Max.

To every one, I am no Roman; Nor what I am do I know.

Aeci.

Then I'le leave ye.

Max.

I find I am best so, if ye meet with Maximus Pray bid him be an honest man for my sake, You may do much upon him; for his shadow, Let me alone.

Aeci.

Ye were not wont to talk thus, And to your fried; ye have some danger in you, That willingly would run to action, Take heed, by all our love take heed.

Max.

I danger? I, willing to do any thing, I dig. Has not my Wife been dead two dayes already? Are not my mournings by this time moth-eaten? Are not her sins dispers'd to other Women, And many one ravish'd to relieve her? Have I shed tears these twelve hours?

Aeci.

Now ye weep.

Max.

Some lazie drops that staid behind.

Aeci.

I'le tell ye And I must tell ye truth, were it not hazard, And almost certain loss of all the Empire, I would join with ye: were it any mans But his life, that is life of us, he lost it For doing of this mischief: I would take it, And to your rest give ye a brave revenge: But as the rule now stands, and as he rules, And as the Nations hold in disobedience, One pillar failing, all must fall; I dare not: Nor is it just you should be suffer'd in it, Therefore again take heed: On forraign foes We are our own revengers, but at home On Princes that are eminent and ours, 'Tis fit the Gods should judge us: be not rash, Nor let your angry steel cut those ye know not, For by this fatal blow, if ye dare strike it, As I see great aims in ye, those unborn yet, And those to come of them, and these succeeding Shall bleed the wrath of Maximus: for me As ye now bear your self, I am your friend still, If ye fall off I will not flatter ye, And in my hands, were ye my soul, you perish'd: Once more be careful, stand, and still be worthy, I'le leave you for this hour.

Exit.

Max.

Pray do, 'tis done: And friendship, since thou canst not hold in dangers. Give me a certain ruin, I must through it.

Exit.