SCENE II.
Enter Maximinian, and Aurelia.
Aur.
Why droops my Lord, my Love, my life, my Caesar?
How ill this dulness doth comport with greatness!
Does not (with open arms) your fortune court you?
Rome know you for her Master, I my self
Confess you for my husband? love, and serve you?
If you contemn not these, and think them curses,
I know no blessings that ambitious flesh
Could wish to feel beyond 'em.
Max.
Best Aurelia,
The parent and the nurse to all my Glories,
'Tis not that thus embracing you, I think
There is a Heaven beyond it, that begets
These sad retirements; but the fear to lose
What it is hell to part with: better to have liv'd
Poor and obscure, and never scal'd the top
Of hilly Empire, than to die with fear
To be thrown headlong down, almost as soon
As we have reach'd it.
Aur.
These are Pannick terrours
You fashion to your self: Is not my Brother
(Your equal and copartner in the Empire)
Vow'd and confirm'd your friend? the Souldier constant?
Hath not your Uncle Dioclesian taken
His last farewel o'th' world? What then can shake ye?
Max.
The thought I may be shaken: and assurance
That what we do possess is not our own,
But has depending on anothers favour:
For nothing's more uncertain (my Aurelia)
Than power that stands not on his proper Basis,
But borrows his foundation. I'le make plain
My cause of doubts and fears; for what should I
Conceal from you, that are to be familiar
With my most private thoughts? Is not the Empire
My Uncles gift? and may he not resume it
Upon the least distaste? Does not Charinus
Cross me in my designs? And what is Majestie
When 'tis divided? Does not the insolent Souldier
Call my command his donative? And what can take
More from our honour? No (my wise Aurelia,)
If I to you am more than all the world;
As sure you are to me; as we desire
To be secure, we must be absolute,
And know no equal: when your Brother borrows
The little splendor that he has from us,
And we are serv'd for fear, not at entreaty,
We may live safe; but till then, we but walk
With heavie burthens on a sea of glass,
And our own weight will sink us.
Aur.
Your Mother brought you
Into the world an Emperour: you perswade
But what I would have counsell'd: Nearness of blood,
Respect of pietie, and thankfulness,
And all the holy dreams of vertuous fools
Must vanish into nothing, when Ambition
(The maker of great minds, and nurse of honour)
Puts in for Empire. On then, and forget
Your simple Uncle; think he was the Master
(In being once an Emperour) of a Jewel,
Whose worth and use he knew not: For Charinus,
No more my Brother, if he be a stop
To what you purpose; he to Me's a stranger,
And so to be remov'd.
Max.
Thou more than woman,
Thou masculine Greatness, to whose soaring spirit
To touch the stars seems but an easie flight;
O how I glory in thee! those great women
Antiquitie is proud of, thou but nam'd,
Shall be no more remembred: but persevere,
And thou shalt shine among those lesser lights,
Enter Charinus, Niger, Guard.
To all posteritie like another Phebe,
And so ador'd as she is.
Aur.
Here's Charinus,
His brow furrow'd with anger.
Max.
Let him storm,
And you shall hear me thunder.
Cha.
He dispose of
My Provinces at his pleasure? and confer
Those honours (that are only mine to give)
Upon his creatures?
Nig.
Mighty Sir, ascribe it
To his assurance of your love and favour,
And not to pride or malice.
Cha.
No, good Niger,
Courtesie shall not fool me; he shall know
I lent a hand to raise him, and defend him,
While he continues good: but the same strength
If pride make him usurp upon my Right,
Shall strike him to the Center. You are well met, Sir.
Max.
As you make the Encounter: Sir, I hear,
That you repine, and hold your self much griev'd,
In that, without your good leave, I bestow'd
The Gallian Proconsulship upon
A follower of mine.
Cha.
'Tis true: and wonder
You durst attempt it.
Max.
Durst, Charinus?
Cha.
Durst:
Again, I speak it: Think you me so tame,
So leaden and unactive, to sit down
With such dishonour? But, recal your grant,
And speedily; or by the Roman —
Thou tripst thine own heels up, and hast no part