Chapter XII: Part 12

_Cam._ I would applaud him,
Were he saluted _Cæsar_: but I fear
These long protracted counsels will undo us;
And 'tis beyond my reason, he being dead,
You should conceal your self, or hope it can
Continue undiscover'd.

_Aper._ That I have kill'd him,
Yet feed these ignorant fools with hopes he lives,
Has a main end in't. The _Pannonian_ Cohorts
(That are my own, and sure) are not come up,
The _German_ Legions waver, and _Charinus_
(Brother to this dead dog) (hells plagues on _Niger_)
Is jealous of the murther; and, I hear,
Is marching up against me. 'Tis not safe,
Till I have power, to justifie the Act,
To shew my self the authour: be therefore careful
For an hour or two (till I have fully sounded
How the Tribunes and Centurio[n]s stand affected)
That none come near the Litter. If I find them
Firm on my part, I dare profess my self,
And then live _Aper_'s equal.

_Cam._ Does not the body
Begin to putrifie?

_Aper._ That exacts my haste:
When, but even now, I feign'd obedience to it,
As I had some great business to impart,
The scent had almost choak'd me: be therefore curious:
All keep at distance. [_Exit._

_Cam._ I am taught my part;
Haste you to perfect yours.

_1 Guard._ I had rather meet
An enemy in the field, than stand thus nodding
Like to a rug-gown'd Watch-man.

_Enter_ Diocles, Maximinian, Geta.

_Geta._ The Watch at noon?
This is a new device.

_Cam._ Stand.

_Dio._ I am arm'd
Against all danger.

_Max._ If I fear to follow,
A Cowards name pursue me.

_Dio._ Now my Fate
Guide and direct me.

_Cam._ You are rude and sawcy,
With your forbidden feet to touch this ground,
Sacred to _Cæsar_ only, and to these
That do attend his person; Speak, what are you?

_Dio._ What thou, nor any of thy faction are,
Nor ever were: Souldiers, and honest men.

_Cam._ So blunt?

_Geta._ Nay, you shall find he's good at the sharp too.

_Dio._ No instruments of craft: engines of murther,
That serve the Emperour only with oil'd tongues,
Sooth and applaud his vices, play the Bauds
To all his appetites; and when you have wrought
So far upon his weakness, that he's grown
Odious to the subject and himself,
And can no further help your wicked ends,
You rid him out of the way.

_Cam._ Treason?

_Dio._ 'Tis truth,
And I will make it good.

_Cam._ Lay hands upon 'em,
Or kill them suddenly.

_Geta._ I am out at that;
I do not like the sport.

_Dio._ What's he that is
Owner of any vertue worth a _Roman_,
Or does retain the memory of the Oath
He made to _Cæsar_, that dares lift his Sword
Against the man that (careless of his life)
Comes to discover such a horrid Treason,
As when you hear't, and understand how long
Y'ave been abus'd, will run you mad with fury?
I am no stranger, but (like you) a Souldier,
Train'd up one from my youth: and there are some
With whom I have serv'd, and (not to praise my self)
Must needs confess they have seen _Diocles_
In the late _Britain_ wars, both dare and do
Beyond a common man.

_1 Guard. Diocles?_

_2 Guard._ I know him,
The bravest Souldier of the Empire.

_Cam._ Stand:
If thou advance an inch, thou art dead. [Dio. _kills_ Camu.

_Dio._ Die thou,
That durst oppose thy self against a truth
That will break out, though mountains cover it.

_Get._ I fear this is a sucking Pig; no Boar,
He falls so easie.

_Dio._ Hear me, fellow Souldiers;
And if I make it not apparent to you
This is an act of Justice, and no Murther,
Cut me in pieces; I'le disperse the cloud
That hath so long obscur'd a bloody act
Ne'r equall'd yet: you all knew with what favours
The good _Numerianus_ ever grac't
The Provost _Aper_?

_Guard._ True.

_Dio._ And that those bounties
Should have contain'd him (if he e're had learn'd
The Elements of honesty and truth)
In loyal duty: But ambition never
Looks backward on desert, but with blind haste
Boldly runs on. But I lose time. You are here
Commanded by this _Aper_ to attend
The Emperours person; to admit no stranger
To have access to him, or come near his Litter,
Under pretence (forsooth) his eyes are sore,
And his minde troubled: no, my friends, you are cozen'd;
The good _Numerianus_ now is past
The sense of wrong or injury.

_Guard._ How, dead?

_Dio._ Let your own eyes inform you.

_Get._ An Emperours Cabinet?
Fough, I have known a Charnel-house smell sweeter.
If Emperours flesh have this savour, what will mine do,
When I am rotten?

_1 Guard._ Most unheard of villany.

_2 Guard._ And with all cruelty to be reveng'd.

_3 Guard._ Who is the murtherer? name him, that we may
Punish it in his family.

_Dio._ Who but _Aper_?
The barbarous and most ingrateful _Aper_,
His desperate Poniard printed on his breast
This deadly wound: hate to vow'd enemies
Finds a full satisfaction in death;
And Tyrants seek no farther. He (a Subject,
And bound by all the Ties of love and duty)
Ended not so; but does deny his Prince
(Whose ghost forbad passage to his rest,
Mourns by the _Stygian_ shore) his Funeral-Rites.
Nay, weep not; let your loves speak in your anger;
And, to confirm you gave no suffrage to
The damned Plot, lend me your helping hands
To wreak the Parricide: and if you find
That there is worth in _Diocles_ to deserve it,
Make him your leader.

_Guard._ A _Diocles_, a _Diocles_.

_Dio._ We'll force him from his Guards. And now, my Stars,
If you have any good for me in store,
Shew it, when I have slain this fatal Boar. [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

_Enter_ Delphia _and_ Drusilla, _in a Throne drawn_
_by Dragons_.

_Del._ Fix here, and rest a while your Sail-stretch'd wings
That have out-stript the winds: the eye of Heaven
Durst not behold your speed, but hid it self
Behind the grossest clouds; and the pale Moon
Pluckt in her silver horns, trembling for fear
That my strong Spells should force her from her Sphere;
Such is the power of Art.

_Dru._ Good Aunt, where are we?

_Del._ Look down, _Drusilla_, on these lofty Towers,
These spacious streets, where every private house
Appears a Palace to receive a King:
The site, the wealth, the beauty of the place,
Will soon inform thee 'tis imperious _Rome_,
_Rome_, the great Mistris of the conquer'd world.

_Dru._ But without _Diocles_, it is to me
Like any wilderness we have pass'd o're:
Shall I not see him?

_Del._ Yes, and in full glory,
And glut thy greedy eyes with looking on
His prosperous success: Contain thy self;
For though all things beneath us are transparent,
The sharpest sighted, were he Eagle-ey'd,
Cannot discover us: nor will we hang
Idle Spectators to behold his triumph:

_Enter_ Diocles, Maximinian, _Guard_, Aper,
_Senators_, Geta, _Officers, with Litter_.

But when occasion shall present it self,
Do something to add to it. See, he comes.

_Dru._ How god-like he appears! with such a grace
The Giants that attempted to scale Heaven,
When they lay dead on the _Phlegrean_ plain,
_Mars_ did appear to _Jove_.

_Del._ Forbear.

_Dio._ Look on this,
And when with horrour thou hast view'd thy deed,
(Thy most accursed deed) be thine own judge,
And see (thy guilt consider'd) if thou canst
Perswade thy self (whom thou stand'st bound to hate)
To hope or plead for mercy.

_Aper._ I confess
My life's a burden to me.

_Dio._ Thou art like thy name,
A cruel Boar, whose snout hath rooted up
The fruitfull Vineyard of the common-wealth:
I long have hunted for thee, and since now
Thou art in the Toyl, it is in vain to hope
Thou ever shalt break out: thou dost deserve
The Hangmans hook, or to be punished
_More majorum_, whipt with rods to death,
Or any way, that were more terrible.
Yet, since my future fate depends upon thee,
Thus, to ful[fi]ll great _Delphia_'s Prophecie,
_Aper_ (thou fatal Boar) receive the honour [_Kills_ Aper.
To fall by _Diocles_ hand. Shine clear, my Stars,
That usher'd me to taste this common air
In my entrance to the world, and give applause
To this great work. [_Musick._

_Del._ Strike Musick from the Spheres.

_Dru._ O now you honour me.

_Dio._ Ha! in the Air!

_All._ Miraculous.

_Max._ This shews the gods approve
The Person, and the Act: then if the Senate
(For in their eyes I read the Souldiers love)
Think _Diocles_ worthy to supply the place
Of dead _Numerianus_, as he stands
His Heir, in his revenge, with one consent
Salute him Emperour.

_Senat._ Long live _Diocles_:
_Augustus_, _Pater Patriæ_, and all Titles,
That are peculiar only to the _Cæsars_,
We gladly throw upon him.

_Guard._ We confirm it,
And will defend his honour with our Swords
Against the world: raise him to the Tribunal.

_1 Sen._ Fetch the Imperial Robes: and as a sign
We give him absolute power of life and death,
Bind this Sword to his side.

_2 Sen._ Omit no Ceremony
That may be for his honour. _SONG._

_Max._ Still the gods
Express that they are pleas'd with this election.

_Geta._ My Master is an Emperour, and I feel
A Senators Itch upon me: would I could hire
These fine invisible Fidlers to play to me
At my instalment.

_Dio._ I embrace your loves,
And hope the honours that you heap upon me,
Shall be with strength supported. It shall be
My studie to appear another _Atlas_,
To stand firm underneath this heaven of Empire,
And bear it boldly. I desire no Titles,
But as I shall deserve 'em. I will keep
The name I had, being a private man,
Only with some small difference; I will add
To _Diocles_ but two short syllables,
And be called _Dioclesianus_.

_Geta._ That is fine:
I'le follow the fashion; and when I am a Senator,
I will be no more plain _Geta_, but be call'd
Lord _Getianus_.

_Dru._ He ne'er thinks of me,
Nor of your favour.

_Enter_ Niger.

_Del._ If he dares prove false,
These glories shall be to him as a dream,
Or an inchanted banquet.

_Niger._ From _Charinus_,
From great _Charinus_, who with joy hath heard
Of your proceedings, and confirms your honours:
He, with his beauteous Sister, fair _Aurelia_,
Are come in person, like themselves attended
To gratulate your fortune. [_Loud Musick._

_Enter_ Charinus, Aurelia, _Attendants_.

_Dio._ For thy news,
Be thou in _France_ Pro-consul: let us meet
The Emperour with all honour, and embrace him.

_Dru._ O Aunt, I fear this Princess doth eclipse
Th' opinion of my beauty, though I were
My self to be the judge.

_Del._ Rely on me.

_Char._ 'Tis vertue, and not birth that makes us noble:
Great actions speak great minds, and such should govern;
And you are grac't with both. Thus, as a Brother,
A fellow, and Co-partner in the Empire,
I do embrace you: may we live so far
From difference, or emulous Competition,
That all the world may say, Although two Bodies,
We have one Mind.

_Aur._ When I look on the Trunk
Of dear _Numerianus_, I should wash
His wounds with tears, and pay a Sisters sorrow
To his sad fate: but since he lives again
In your most brave Revenge, I bow to you,
As to a power that gave him second life,
And will make good my promise. If you find
That there is worth in me that may deserve you,
And that in being your wife, I shall not bring
Disquiet and dishonour to your Bed,
Although my youth and fortune should require
Both to be su'd and sought to, here I yield
My self at your devotion.

_Dio._ O you gods,
Teach me how to be thankful: you have pour'd
All blessings on me, that ambitious man
Could ever fancie: till this happy minute,
I ne're saw beauty, or believ'd there could be
Perfection in a woman. I shall live
To serve and honour you: upon my knees
I thus receive you; and, so you vouchsafe it,
This day I am doubly married; to the Empire,
And your best-self.

_Del._ False and perfidious villain.--

_Dru._ Let me fall headlong on him: O my stars!
This I foresaw and fear'd.

_Cha._ Call forth a _Flamen_
This knot shall now be ti'd.

_Del._ But I will loose it,
If Art or Hell have any strength.

_Enter a Flamen, Thunder, and Lightning._

_Cha._ Prodigious!

_Max._ How soon the day's orecast!

_Fla._ The Signs are fatal:
_Juno_ smiles not upon this Match, and shews too
She has her thunder.

_Dio._ Can there be a stop
In my full fortune?

_Cha._ We are too violent,
And I repent the haste: we first should pay
Our latest duty to the dead, and then
Proceed discreetly. Let's take up the body,
And when we have plac'd his ashes in his Urn,
We'll try the gods again, for wise men say,
Marriage and Obsequies do not suit one day. [_Senate Exit._

_Del._ So, 'tis deferr'd yet, in despite of falshood:
Comfort _Drusilla_, for he shall be thine,
Or wish, in vain, he were not. I will punish [_Ascend._
His perjury to the height. Mount up, my birds;
Some Rites I am to perform to _Hecate_,
To perfect my designs; which once perform'd,
He shall be made obedient to thy Call,
Or in his ruine I will bury all. [_Ascends throne._

_Actus Tertius. Scena Prima._

_Enter_ Maximinian, (_solus_.)

_Max._ What powerful Star shin'd at this mans Nativity?
And bless'd his homely Cradle with full glory?
What throngs of people press and buz about him,
And with their humming flatteries sing him _Cæsar_?
Sing him aloud, and grow hoarse with saluting him?
How the fierce-minded Souldier steals in to him,
Adores and courts his honour? at his devotion
Their lives, their vertues, and their fortunes laying?
_Charinus_ sues, the Emperour intreats him,
And as a brighter flame, takes his beams from him.
The bless'd and bright _Aurelia_, she doats on him,
And, as the god of Love, burns incense to him.
All eyes live on him. Yet I am still _Maximinian_,
Still the same poor and wretched thing, his servant.
What have I got by this? where lies my glory?
How am I rais'd and honour'd? I have gone as far
To woo this purblind honour, and have pass'd
As many dangerous Expeditions,
As noble, and as high; nay, in his destinie
(Whilst 'twas unknown) have run as many hazards,
And done as much; sweat thorow as many perils;
Only the Hang-man of _Volutius Aper_
(Which I mistook) has made him Emperour,
And me his slave.

_Enter_ Delphia, _and_ Drusilla.

_Del._ Stand still; he cannot see us,
Till I please: mark him well, this discontentment
I have forc'd into him, for thy cause, _Drusilla_.

_Max._ Can the gods see this;
See it with justice, and confer their blessings
On him, that never flung one grain of incense
Upon their Altars? never bow'd his knee yet;
And I that have march'd foot by foot, struck equally,
And whilst he was a gleaning, have been praying,
Contemning his base covetous--

_Del._ Now we'll be open.

_Max._ Bless me, and with all reverence.

_Del._ Stand up, Son,
And wonder not at thy ungratefull Uncle:
I know thy thoughts, and I appear to ease 'em.

_Max._ O Mother, did I stand the tenth part to ye
Engag'd and fetter'd, as mine Uncle does,
How would I serve, how would I fall before ye!
The poorer powers we worship.

_Del._ Peace, and flatter not;
Necessitie and anger draws this from ye;
Of both which I will quit ye: For your Uncle
I spoke this honour, and it fell upon him;
Fell, to his full content: he has forgot me,
For all my care; forgot me, and his vow too:
As if a dream had vanish'd, so h'as lost me,
And I him: let him now stand fast. Come hither;
My care is now on you.

_Max._ O blessed Mother!

_Del._ Stand still, and let me work. So now, _Maximinian_,
Go, and appear in Court, and eye _Aurelia_:
Believe, what I have done, concerns ye highly.
Stand in her view, make your addresses to her:
She is the Stair of honour. I'le say no more,
But Fortune is your servant: go.

_Max._ With reverence;--
All this as holy truths. [_Exit._

_Del._ Believe, and prosper.

_Dru._ Yet all this cures not me; but as much credit,
As much belief from _Dioclesian_.

_Enter_ Geta, _Lictors, and Suitors_,
(_with Petitions_.)

_Del._ Be not dejected; I have warn'd ye often:
The proudest thoughts he has, I'le humble. Who's this?
O 'tis the fool and knave grown a grave Officer:
Here's hot and high preferment.

_Get._ What's your Bill?
For Gravel for the _Appian_ way, and Pills?
Is the way rheumatick?

_1 Suitor._ 'Tis Piles, and't please you.

_Get._ Remove me those Piles to Port _Esquiline_,
Fitter the place, my friend: you shall be paid.

_1 Suitor._ I thank your worship.

_Get._ Thank me when ye have it;
Thank me another way, ye are an Asse else.
I know my office: you are for the streets, Sir.
Lord, how ye throng! that knave has eaten Garlick;
Whip him, and bring him back.

_3 Suitor._ I beseech your Worship;
Here's an old reckoning for the dung and dirt, Sir.

_Get._ It stinks like thee: away. Yet let him tarry,
His Bill shall quit his Breath. Give your Petitions
In seemly sort, and keep your hat off, decently.
For scowring the water-courses thorow the Cities?
A fine periphrasis of a kennel-raker.
Did ye scour all, my friend? ye had some business:
Who shall scour you? you are to be paid, I take it,
When Surgeons swear you have perform'd your office.

_4 Suit._ Your Worship's merry.

_Get._ We must be sometimes wittie,
To nick a knave; 'tis as useful as our gravitie.
I'le take no more Petitions; I am pester'd;
Give me some rest.

_4 Suit._ I have brought the gold (and't please ye)
About the Place ye promised.

_Get._ See him enter'd.
How does your Daughter?

_4 Suit._ Better your worship thinks of her.

_Get._ This is with the least. But let me see your Daughter.
'Tis a good forward maid; I'le joyn her with ye.
I do beseech ye, leave me.

_Lictor._ Ye see the _Edile's_ busie.

_Get._ And look to your places, or I'le make ye smoke else.
Sirrah, I drank a cup of wine at your house yesterday;
A good smart wine.

_Lictor._ Send him the piece, he likes it.

_Get._ And ate the best wild Boar at that same Farmers.

_2 Su._ I have half left yet: your worship shall command it.

_Get._ A bit will serve: give me some rest: gods help me.
How shall I labour when I am a Senator?

_Del._ 'Tis a fit place indeed. 'Save your Mastership;
Do you know us, Sir?

_Get._ These women are still troublesom.
There be houses providing for such wretched women,
And some small Rents, to set ye a spinning.

_Dru._ Sir,
We are no Spinsters; nor, if you look upon us,
So wretched as you take us.

_Del._ Does your Mightiness
That is a great destroyer of your Memorie,
Yet understand our faces?

_Get._ 'Prethee keep off, woman;
It is not fit I should know every creature.
Although I have been familiar with thee heretofore,
I must not know thee now: my place neglects thee.
Yet, because I daign a glimpse of your remembrances,
Give me your Suits, and wait me a month hence.

_Del._ Our Suits are, Sir, to see the Emperour,
The Emperour _Dioclesian_, to speak to him,
And not to wait on you. We have told you all, Sir.

_Get._ I laugh at your simplicitie, poor women:
See the Emperour? why you are deceiv'd: now
The Emperour appears but once in seven years,
And then he shines not on such weeds as you are.
Forward, and keep your State, and keep beggers from me.

_Drus._ Here is a prettie youth. [_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ Diocles.

_Del._ He shall be prettie,
Or I will want my will, since ye are so high, Sir:
I'le raise ye higher, or my art shall fail me.
Stand close, he comes.

_Dio._ How am I cross'd and tortur'd!
My most wish'd happiness, my lovely Mistris,
That must make good my hopes, and link my greatness,
Yet sever'd from mine arms! Tell me, high heaven,
How have I sinn'd, that you should speak in thunder,
In horrid thunder, when my heart was ready
To leap into her breast? the Priest was ready?
The joyful virgins and the young men ready?
When _Hymen_ stood with all his flames about him
Blessing the bed? the house with full joy sweating?
And expectation, like the _Roman_ Eagle,
Took stand, and call'd all eyes? It was your honour;
And e're you give it full, do you destroy it?
Or was there some dire Star? some Devil that did it?
Some sad malignant Angel to mine honour?
With you I dare not rage.

_Del._ With me thou canst not,
Though it was I. Nay, look not pale and frighted;
I'le fright thee more. With me thou canst not quarrel;
I rais'd the thunder, to rebuke thy falshood:
Look here, to her thy falshood. Now be angry,
And be as great in evil as in Empire.

_Dio._ Bless me, ye Powers.

_Del._ Thou hast full need of blessing.
'Twas I, that at thy great Inauguration,
Hung in the air unseen: 'twas I that honour'd thee
With various Musicks, and sweet sounding airs:
'Twas I inspir'd the Souldiers heart with wonder,
And made him throw himself, with love and duty,
Low at thy feet: 'twas I that fix'd him to thee,
But why did I all this? To keep thy honestie,
Thy vow and faith; that once forgot and slighted
_Aurelia_ in regard, the Marriage ready,
The Priest and all the Ceremonies present,
'Twas I that thundred loud; 'twas I that threatned;
'Twas I that cast a dark face over heaven,
And smote ye all with terrour.

_Dru._ Yet consider,
As ye are noble, as I have deserv'd ye;
For yet ye are free: if neither faith nor promise,
The deeds of elder times may be remembred,
Let these new-dropping tears; for I still love ye,
These hands held up to heaven.

_Dio._ I must not pity ye;
'Tis not wise in me.

_Del._ How? not wise?

_Dio._ Nor honourable.
A Princess is my Love, and doats upon me:
A fair and lovely Princess is my Mistris.
I am an Emperour: consider, Prophetess,
Now my embraces are for Queens and Princesses,
For Ladies of high mark, for divine beauties:
To look so low as this cheap common sweetness,
Would speak me base, my names and glories nothing.
I grant I made a vow; what was I then?
As she is now, of no sort, (hope made me promise)
But now I am; to keep this vow, were monstrous,
A madness, and a low inglorious fondness.

_Del._ Take heed, proud man.

_Drus._ Princes may love with Titles,
But I with Truth.

_Del._ Take heed; here stands thy destinie;
Thy Fate here follows.

_Dio._ Thou doating Sorceress,
Wouldst have me love this thing, that is not worthy
To kneel unto my Saint? to kiss her shadow?
Great Princes are her slaves; selected beauties
Bow at her beck: the mighty _Persian's_ Daughter
(Bright as the breaking East, as mid-day glorious)
Waits her commands, and grows proud in her pleasures.
I'le see her honour'd: some Match I shall think of,
That shall advance ye both; mean time I'll favour ye. [_Exit._

_Del._ Mean time I'le haunt thee. Cry not (wench) be confident,
E're long, thou shalt more pity him (observe me)
And pity him in truth, than now thou seek'st him:
My art and I are yet companions. Come, Girl. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ Geta, _Lictors._

_Get._ I am too merciful, I find it, friends,
Of too soft a nature to be an Officer;
I bear too much remorse.

_1 Lict._ 'Tis your own fault, Sir;
For look you, one so newly warm in Office
Should lay about him blindfold, like true Justice,
Hit where it will: the more ye whip and hang, Sir,
(Though without cause; let that declare it self afterward)
The more ye are admired.

_Get._ I think I shall be.--

_2 Lict._ Your worship is a man of a spare body,
And prone to anger.

_Get._ Nay, I will be angry,
And, the best is, I need not shew my reason.

_2 Lict._ You need not, Sir, your place is without reason;
And what you want in growth and full proportion,
Make up in rule and rigour.

_Get._ A rare Counsellor;
Instruct me further. Is it fit, my friends,
The Emperour my Master _Dioclesian_
Should now remember or the times or manners
That call'd him plain down _Diocles_?

_1 Lict._ He must not,
It stands not with his Royaltie.

_Get._ I grant ye,
I being then the _Edile Getianus_,
A man of place, and Judge, is it held requisite
I should commit to my consideration
Those Rascals of removed and ragged hours,
That with unreverend mouths call'd me Slave _Geta_?

_2 Lict._ You must forget their names; your honour bids ye.

_Get._ I do forget; but I'le hang their natures:
I will ascend my place, which is of Justice;
And mercy, I forget thee.

_Suitor._ A rare Magistrate!
Another _Solon_ sure.

_Get._ Bring out the offenders.

_1 Lict._ There are none yet, Sir, but no doubt there will be.
But if you please touch some things of those natures.

_Get._ And am I ready, and mine anger too?
The melancholy of a Magistrate upon me,
And no offenders to execute my fury?
Ha? no offenders, knaves?

_1 Lict._ There are knaves indeed, Sir,
But we hope shortly to have 'em for your worship.

_Get._ No men to hang or whip? are you good officers,
That provide no fuel for a Judges fury?
In this place something must be done; this Chair, I tell ye,
When I sit down, must savour of Severitie:
Therefore I warn ye all, bring me lewd people,
Or likely to be lewd; twigs must be cropt too:
Let me have evil persons in abundance,
Or make 'em evil; 'tis all one, do but say so,
That I may have fit matter for a Magistrate;
And let me work. If I sit empty once more,
And lose my longing, as I am true _Edile_,
And as I hope to rectifie my Countrie,
You are those scabs I will scratch off from the Commonwealth,
You are these Rascals of the State I treat of,
And you shall find and feel.--

_2 Lict._ You shall have many,
Many notorious people.

_Get._ Let 'em be people,
And take ye notorious to your selves. Mark me, my Lictors,
And you, the rest of my Officials;
If I be angry, as my place will ask it,
And want fit matter to dispose my Authoritie,
I'le hang a hundred of ye: I'le not stay longer,
Nor enquire no further into your offences:
It is sufficient that I find no Criminals,
And therefore I must make some: if I cannot,
Suffer my self; for so runs my Commission.

_Suitor._ An admirable, zealous and true Justice.

_1 Lict._ I cannot hold: if there be any people,
Of what degree soever, or what qualitie,
That would behold the wonderful works of Justice
In a new Officer, a man conceal'd yet,
Let him repair, and see, and hear, and wonder
At the most wise and gracious _Getianus_.

_Enter_ Delphia, _and_ Drusilla.

_Get._ This qualifies a little. What are these?

_Del._ You shall not mourn still: times of recreation,
To allay this sadness, must be sought. What's here?
A superstitious flock of sensless people
Worshipping a sign in Office?

_Get._ Lay hold on her,
And hold her fast,
She'll slip thorow your fingers like an Eel else;
I know her tricks: hold her, I say, and bind her,
Or hang her first, and then I'le tell her wherefore.

_Del._ What have I done?

_Get._ Thou hast done enough to undo thee;
Thou hast pressed to the Emperours presence without my warrant,
I being his key and image.

_Del._ You are an image indeed,
And of the coursest stuff, and the worst making
That e're I look'd on yet: I'le make as good an image of an Asse.

_Get._ Besides, thou art a woman of a lewd life.

_Del._ I am no whore, Sir, nor no common fame
Has yet proclaim'd me to the people, vitious.

_Get._ Thou art to me a damnable lewd woman,
Which is as much as all the people swore it;
I know thou art a keeper of tame Devils:
And whereas great and grave men of my place
Can by the Laws be allow'd but one apiece,
For their own services and recreations;
Thou, like a traiterous quean, keepst twenty devils;
Twenty in ordinary.

_Del._ Pray ye, Sir, be pacified,
If that be all: and if ye want a servant,
You shall have one of mine shall serve for nothing,
Faithful, and diligent, and a wise Devil too;
Think for what end.

_Get._ Let her alone, 'tis useful;
We men of business must use speedie servants:
Let me see your family.

_Del._ Think but one, he is ready.

_Get._ A Devil for intelligence? No, no,
He will lye beyond all travellers. A State-Devil?
Neither; he will undo me at mine own weapon.
For execution? he will hang me too.
I would have a handsom, pleasant and a fine she-devil,
To entertain the Ladies that come to me;
A travell'd Devil too, that speaks the tongues,
And a neat carving Devil. [_Musick._

_Enter a she-devil._

_Del._ Be not fearful.

_Get._ A prettie brown devil i'faith; may I not kiss her?

_Del._ Yes, and embrace her too; she is your servant.
Fear not; her lips are cool enough.

_Get._ She is marvellous well mounted; what's her name?

_Del. Lucifera._

_Get._ Come hither, _Lucifera_. and kiss me.

_Del._ Let her sit on your knee.

_Get._ The Chair turns: hey-boys:
Pleasant i'faith, and a fine facetious Devil. [_Dance._

_Del._ She would whisper in your ear, and tell ye wonders.

_Get._ Come; what's her name?

_Del. Lucifera._

_Get._ Come, _Lucie_, come, speak thy mind. I am certain burnt
to ashes. [_Exeunt_.
I have a kind of Glasse-house in my cod-piece.
Are these the flames of State? I am rosted over,
Over, and over-rosted. Is this Office?
The pleasure of authoritie? I'le no more on't,
Till I can punish Devils too; I'le quit it.
Some other Trade now, and some course less dangerous,
Or certainly I'le tyle again for two pence. [_Exit._

SCENE III.

_Enter_ Charinus, Aurelia, Cassana, _Ambassadours,_
_Attendants_.

_Aur._ Never dispute with me; you cannot have her:
Nor name the greatness of your King; I scorn him:
Your knees to me are nothing; should he bow too,
It were his dutie, and my power to slight him.

_Cha._ She is her woman; never sue to me;
And in her power to render her, or keep her;
And she, my Sister, not to be compell'd,
Nor have her own snatch'd from her.

_Amb._ We desire not,
But for what ransom she shall please to think of;
Jewels, or Towns, or Provinces.

_Aur._ No ransom,
No, not your Kings own head, his crown upon it,
And all the low subjections of his people.

_Amb._ Fair Princes should have tender thoughts.

_Aur._ Is she too good
To wait upon the mighty Emperours Sister?
What Princess of that sweetness, or that excellence,
Sprung from the proudest, and the mightiest Monarchs,
But may be highly blest to be my servant?

_Cas._ 'Tis most true, mighty Lady.

_Aur._ Has my fair usage
Made you so much despise me and your fortune,
That ye grow weary of my entertainments?
Henceforward, as ye are, I will command ye,
And as you were ordain'd my prisoner,
My slave, and one I may dispose of any way,
No more my fair Companion: tell your King so:
And if he had more Sisters, I would have 'em,
And use 'em as I please. You have your answer.

_Amb._ We must take some other way: force must compel it. [_Ex._

_Enter_ Maximinian.

_Max._ Now if thou beest a _Prophetess_, and canst do
Things of that wonder that thy tongue delivers,
Canst raise me too: I shall be bound to speak thee:
I half believe, confirm the other to me,
And Monuments to all succeeding Ages,
Of thee, and of thy piety.--Now she eyes me.
Now work great power of art: she moves unto me:
How sweet, how fair, and lovely her aspects are!
Her eyes like bright Eoan flames shoot thorow me.

_Aur._ O my fair friend, where have you been?

_Max._ What am I?
What does she take me for? work still, work strongly.

_Aur._ Where have you fled, my loves and my embraces?

_Max._ I am beyond my wits.

_Aur._ Can one poor Thunder,
Whose causes are as common as his noises,
Make ye defer your lawful and free pleasures?
Strike terrour to a Souldiers heart, a Monarchs?
Thorow all the fires of angry heaven, thorow tempests
That sing of nothing but destruction,
Even underneath the bolt of _Jove_, then ready,
And aiming dreadfully, I would seek you,
And flie into your arms.

_Max._ I shall be mighty,
And (which I never knew yet) I am goodly;
For certain, a most handsom man.

_Cha._ Fie, Sister,
What a forgetful weakness is this in ye?
What a light presence? these are words and offers
Due only to your husband _Dioclesian_;
This free behaviour only his.

_Aur._ 'Tis strange
That only empty names compel affections:
This man, ye see, give him what name or title,
Let it be ne're so poor, ne're so despis'd, Brother,
This lovely man.--

_Max._ Though I be hang'd, I'le forward:
For, certain, I am excellent, and knew not.

_Aur._ This rare and sweet young man, see how he looks, Sir.

_Max._ I'le justle hard, dear Uncle.

_Aur._ This thing, I say,
Let him be what he will, or bear what fortune,
This most unequall'd man, this spring of beauty
Deserves the bed of _Juno_.

_Cha._ You are not mad.

_Max._ I hope she be; I am sure I am little better.

_Aur._ O fair, sweet man!

_Cha._ For shame refrain this impudence.

_Max._ Would I had her alone, that I might seal this blessing:
Sure, sure she should not beg: if this continue,
As I hope, Heaven, it will; Uncle, I'le nick ye,
I'le nick ye, by this life. Some would fear killing
In the pursuit now of so rare a venture;

_Enter_ Diocles.

I am covetous to die for such a beauty.
Mine Uncle comes: now, if she stand, I am happie.

_Cha._ Be right again, for honours sake.

_Dio._ Fair Mistris--

_Aur._ What man is this? Away. What sawcy fellow?
Dare any such base groom press to salute me?

_Dio._ Have ye forgot me, Fair, or do you jest with me?
I'le tell ye what I am: come, 'pray ye look lovely.
Nothing but frowns and scorns?

_Aur._ Who is this fellow?

_Dio._ I'le tell ye who I am: I am your husband.

_Aur._ Husband to me?

_Dio._ To you. I am _Dioclesian_.

_Max._ More of this sport, and I am made, old Mother:
Effect but this thou hast begun.

_Dio._ I am he, Lady,
Reveng'd your Brothers death; slew cruel _Aper_;
I am he the Souldier courts, the Empire honours,
Your Brother loves; am he (my lovely Mistriss)
Will make you Empress of the World.

_Max._ Still excellent;
Now I see too, mine Uncle may be cozen'd:
An Emperour may suffer like another.
Well said, old Mother, hold up this miracle.

_Aur._ Thou lyest, thou art not he: thou a brave fellow?

_Char._ Is there no shame, no modesty in women?

_Aur._ Thou one of high and full mark?

_Dio._ Gods! what ails she?

_Aur._ Generous and noble? Fie, thou liest most basely.
Thy face, and all aspects upon thee, tell me
Thou art a poor _Dalmatian_ Slave, a low thing,
Not worth the name of _Roman_; stand off farther.

_Dio._ What may this mean?

_Aur._ Come hither, my _Endymion_;
Come, shew thy self, and all eyes be blessed in thee.

_Dio._ Ha? what is this?

_Aur._ Thou fair star that I live by,
Look lovely on me, break into full brightness;
Look, here's a face now, of another making,
Another mold; here's a divine proportion,
Eyes fit for _Phoebus_ self to gild the World with;
And there's a brow arch'd like the State of Heaven;
Look how it bends, and with what radiance,
As if the Synod of the gods sate under;
Look there, and wonder; now behold that fellow,
That admirable thing, cut with an Axe out.

_Max._ Old Woman, though I cannot give thee recompence,
Yet certainly, I'll make thy name as glorious.

_Dio._ Is this in truth?

_Char._ She is mad, and you must pardon her.

_Dio._ She hangs upon him; see.

_Char._ Her fit is strong now,
Be not you passionate.

_Dio._ She kisses.

_Char._ Let her;
'Tis but the fondness of her fit.

_Dio._ I am fool'd,
And if I suffer this.

_Char._ 'Pray ye, friend, be pacified,
This will be off anon; she goes in. [_Exit_ Aurelia.

_Dio._ Sirrah.

_Max._ What say you, Sir?

_Dio._ How dare thy lips, thy base lips?

_Max._ I am your Kinsman, Sir, and no such base one;
I sought no kisses, nor I had no reason
To kick the Princess from me; 'twas no manners;
I never yet compell'd her; of her courtesie,
What she bestows, Sir, I am thankful for.

_Dio._ Be gone, Villain.

_Max._ I will, and I will go off with that glory,
And magnifie my fate. [_Exit._

_Dio._ Good Brother, leave me,
I am to my self a trouble now.

_Char._ I am sorry for't;
You'll find it but a woman-fit to try ye.

_Dio._ It may be so, I hope so.

_Char._ I am asham'd, and what I think I blush at. [_Exit._

_Dio._ What misery hath my fortune bred me?
And how far must I suffer? Poor and low States,
Though they know wants and hungers, know not these,
Know not these killing Fates; little contents them,
And with that little they live, Kings commanding,
And ordering both their ends and loves. O Honour!
How greedily men seek thee, and once purchased,
How many Enemies to mans peace bringst thou!
How many griefs and sorrows, that like sheers,
Like fatal Sheers, are sheering off our lives still!
How many sad Eclipses do we shine thorow!

_Enter_ Delphia, Drusilla, _vail'd_.

When I presum'd I was blessed in this fair woman.

_Del._ Behold him now, and tell me how thou lik'st him.

_Dio._ When all my hopes were up, and Fortune dealt me
Even for the greatest, and the happiest Monarch,
Then to be cozen'd, to be cheated basely?
By mine own Kinsman cross'd? O villain Kinsman!
Curse of my blood; because a little younger,
A little smoother fac'd; O false, false woman,
False and forgetful of thy faith; I'll kill him.
But can I kill her hate too? No, he woos not,
Nor worthy is of death, because she follows him,
Because she courts him; Shall I kill an innocent?
O _Diocles_! would thou hadst never known this,
Nor surfeited upon this sweet Ambition,
That now lies bitter at thy heart; O Fortune,
That thou hast none to fool, and blow like bubbles,
But Kings, and their Contents!

_Del._ What think you now, Girl?

_Dru._ Upon my life, I pity his misfortune:
See how he weeps; I cannot hold.

_Del._ Away, fool;
He must weep bloody tears before thou hast him.
How fare ye now, brave _Dioclesian_?
What! lazy in your loves? has too much pleasure
Dull'd your most mighty faculties?

_Dio._ Art thou there!
More to torment me? dost thou come to mock me?

_Del._ I do, and I do laugh at all thy sufferings:
I, that have wrought 'em, come to scorn thy wailings;
I told thee once, this is thy fate, this woman,
And as thou usest her, so thou shall prosper.
It is not in thy power to turn this destiny,
Nor stop the torrent of those miseries
(If thou neglectst her still) shall fall upon thee.
Sith that thou art dishonest, false of faith,
Proud, and dost think no Power can cross thy pleasures;
Thou wilt find a Fate above thee.

_Dru._ Good Aunt, speak mildly;
See how he looks and suffers.

_Dio._ I find and feel, woman,
That I am miserable.

_Del._ Thou art most miserable.

_Dio._ That as I am the most, I am most miserable.
But didst thou work this?

_Del._ Yes, and will pursue it.

_Dio._ Stay there, and have some pity, fair _Drusilla_
Let me perswade thy mercy, thou hast lov'd me,
Although I know my suit will sound unjustly
To make thy love the means to lose it self,
Have pity on me.

_Dru._ I will do.

_Del._ Peace, Niece,
Although this softness may become your love,
Your care must scorn it. Let him still contemn thee,
And still I'll work; the same affection
He ever shews to thee, be it sweet or bitter,
The same _Aurelia_ shall shew him; no further;
Nor shall the wealth of all his Empire free this.

_Dio._ I must speak fair. Lovely young Maid, forgive me,
Look gently on my sorrows; you that grieve too,
I see it in your eyes, and thus I meet it.

_Dru._ O Aunt, I am bless'd.

_Dio._ Be not both young and cruel,
Again I beg it thus.

_Dru._ Thus, Sir, I grant it.

_Enter_ Aurelia.

He's mine own now, Aunt.

_Del._ Not yet, Girl, thou art cozen'd.

_Aur._ O my dear Lord, how have I wrong'd your patience!
How wandred from the truth of my affections!
How (like a wanton fool) shun'd that I lov'd most!
But you are full of goodness, to forgive, Sir,
As I of grief to beg, and shame to take it;
Sure I was not my self, some strange illusion,
Or what you please to pardon.

_Dio._ All, my Dearest;
All, my Delight; and with more pleasure take thee,
Than if there had been no such dream: for certain,
It was no more.

_Aur._ Now you have seal'd forgiveness,
I take my leave, and the gods keep your goodness. [_Exit._

_Del._ You see how kindness prospers; be but so kind
To marry her, and see then what new fortunes,
New joys and pleasures; far beyond this Lady,
Beyond her Greatness too.

_Dio._ I'll dye a dog first.
Now I am reconcil'd, I will enjoy her
In spight of all thy spirits, and thy witchcrafts.

_Del._ Thou shalt not, fool.

_Dio._ I will, old doting Devil;
And wert thou any thing but air and spirit,
My Sword should tell thee.

_Del._ I contemn thy threatnings,
And thou shalt know I hold a power above thee.
We must remove _Aurelia_; Come, farewel, fool,
When thou shalt see me next, thou shalt bow to me.

_Dio._ Look thou appear no more to cross my pleasures. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._

Enter _CHORUS_.

_So full of matter is our Historie,_
_Yet mixt I hope with sweet varietie,_
_The accidents not vulgar too, but rare,_
_And fit to be presented, that there wants_
_Room in this narrow Stage, and time to express_
_In Action to the life, our_ Dioclesian
_In his full lustre: Yet (as the Statuary,_
_That by the large size of_ Alcides'_s foot,_
_Guess'd at his whole proportion) so we hope_
_Your apprehensive judgments will conceive_
_Out of the shadow we can only shew,_
_How fair the Body was; and will be pleas'd,_
_Out of your wonted goodness, to behold_
_As in a silent Mirrour, what we cannot_
_With fit conveniency of time, allow'd_
_For such Presentments, cloath in vocal sounds._
_Yet with such Art the Subject is conveigh'd,_
_That every Scene and passage shall be clear_
_Even to the grossest Understander here._

[Loud Musick.

_Dumb Shew._

_Enter_, at one Door, _Delphia_,
_Ambassadours_, They whisper
together; they take an Oath
upon her hand; She circles them
(kneeling) with her Magick-rod;
they rise and draw their Swords.
_Enter_, at the other door,
_Dioclesian_, _Charinus_,
_Maximinian_, _Niger_, _Aurelia_,
_Cassana_, Guard; _Charinus_ and
_Niger_ perswading _Aurelia_; She
offers to embrace _Maximinian_;
_Diocles_ draws his Sword,
keeps off _Maximinian_, turns
to _Aurelia_, kneels to her,
lays his Sword at her feet, she
scornfully turns away: _Delphia_
gives a sign; the Ambassadours and
Souldiers rush upon them, seize on
_Aurelia_, _Cassana_, _Charinus_,
and _Maximinian_; _Dioclesian_,
and others offer to rescue them;
_Delphia_ raises a mist; _Exeunt_
Ambassadours and Prisoners, and the
rest discontented.

_The skilful_ Delphia _finding by sure proof_
_The presence of_ Aurelia _dim'd the Beauty_
_Of her_ Drusilla; _and in spight of Charms,_
_The Emperour her Brother, Great_ Charinus,__
_Still urg'd her to the love of_ Dioclesian,__
_Deals with the_ Persian _Legats, that were bound_
_For the Ransom of_ Cassana, _to remove_
Aurelia, Maximinian, _and_ Charinus
_Out of the sight of_ Rome; _but takes their Oaths_
_(In lieu of her assistance) that they shall not_
_On any terms, when they were in their power,_
_Presume to touch their lives; This yielded to,_
_They lye in ambush for 'em._ Dioclesian
_Still mad for fair_ Aurelia, _that doted_
_As much on_ Maximinian, _twice had kill'd him,_
_But that her frown restrain'd him: He pursues her_
_With all humility; but she continues_
_Proud and disdainful. The sign given by_ Delphia,__
_The_ Persians _break thorow, and seize upon_
Charinus _and his Sister, with_ Maximinian,__
_And free_ Cassana. _For their speedy rescue,_
_Enraged_ Dioclesian _draws his Sword,_
_And bids his Guard assist him; Then too weak_
_Had been all opposition and resistance_
_The_ Persians _could have made against their fury,_
_If_ Delphia _by her Cunning had not raised_
_A foggy Mist, which, as a Cloud, conceal'd them,_
_Deceiving their Pursuers. Now be pleased,_
_That your imaginations may help you_
_To think them safe in_ Persia, _and_ Dioclesian
_For this disaster circled round with sorrow,_
_Yet mindful of the wrong. Their future fortunes_
_We will present in Action; and are bold,_
_In that which follows, that the most shall say,_
_'Twas well begun, but the End crown'd the Play._ [Exit.

SCENE II.

_Enter_ Diocles, Niger, _Senators, Guard_.

_Dio._ Talk not of comfort; I have broke my faith,
And the gods fight against me; and proud man,
However magnified, is but as dust
Before the raging whirl-wind of their justice.
What is it to be great? ador'd on Earth?
When the immortal Powers that are above us
Turn all our Blessings into horrid Curses,
And laugh at our resistance, or prevention
Of what they purpose? O the Furies that
I feel within me! whipt on, by their angers,
For my tormentors. Could it else have been
In Nature, that a few fugitive _Persians_,
Unfriended, and unarmed too, could have rob'd me
(In _Rome_, the World's _Metropolis_, and her glory;
In _Rome_, where I command, inviron'd round
With such invincible Troops that know no fear,
But want of noble Enemies) of those jewels
I priz'd above my life, and I want power
To free them, if those gods I have provok'd
Had not given spirit to the undertakers,
And in their deed protected 'em?

_Nig._ Great _Cæsar_,
Your safety does confirm you are their care,
And that howe'r their practices reach others,
You stand above their malice.

_1 Sen. Rome_ in us
Offers (as means to further your revenge)
The lives of her best Citizens,
And all they stand possess'd of.

_1 Guard._ Do but lead us on
With that invincible and undaunted Courage
Which waited bravely on you, when you appear'd
The minion of Conquest; married rather
To glorious Victory, and we will drag
(Though all the Enemies of life conspire
Against our undertakings) the proud _Persian_,
Out of his strongest hold.

_2 Guard._ Be but your self,
And do not talk but do.

_3 Guard._ You have hands and swords,
Limbs to make up a well proportion'd Army,
That only want in you an Head to lead us.

_Dio._ The gods reward your goodness; and believe,
Howe'r (for some great sin) I am mark't out
The object of their hate, though _Jove_ stood ready
To dart his three-fold thunder on this head,
It could not fright me from a fierce pursuit
Of my revenge; I will redeem my friends,
And with my friends mine honour; at least fall
Like to my self, a Souldier.

_Nig._ Now we hear
Great _Dioclesian_ speak.

_Dio._ Draw up our Legions,
And let it be your care (my much lov'd _Niger_)
To hasten the remove; And, fellow Souldiers,
Your love to me will teach you to endure
Both long and tedious Marches.

_1 Guard._ Dye he accurs'd
That thinks of rest or sleep, before he sets
His foot on _Persian_-Earth.

_Nig._ We know our glory;
The dignity of _Rome_, and what's above
All can be urg'd, the quiet of your mind
Depends upon our haste.

_Dio._ Remove to night;
Five days shall bring me to you.

_All._ Happiness
To _Cæsar_, and glorious victory. [_Exeunt._

_Dio._ The cheerfulness of my Souldiers gives assurance
Of good success abroad; if first I make
My peace at home here. There is something chides me,
And sharply tells me, that my breach of faith
To _Delphia_ and _Drusilla_, is the ground
Of my misfortunes; And I must remember,
While I was lov'd, and in great _Delphia's_ Grace,
She was as my good Angel, and bound Fortune
To prosper my designs; I must appease her;
Let others pay their Knees, their Vows, their Prayers
To weak imagin'd Powers; She is my All,
And thus I do invoke her. Knowing _Delphia_,
Thou more than Woman, and though thou vouchsafest
To grace the Earth with thy celestial Steps,
And taste this grosser air, thy heavenly Spirit
Hath free access to all the secret Counsels
Which a full Senate of the gods determine
When they consider man: The brass leav'd Book
Of Fate lies open to thee, where thou read'st,
And fashionest the destinies of men
At thy wish'd pleasures; Look upon thy creature,
And as thou twice hast pleased to appear
To reprehend my falshood, now vouchsafe
To see my low submission. [Delphia _and_ Drusilla _appear_.

_Del._ What's thy Will?
False, and unthankful, (and in that deserving
All humane sorrows) darst thou hope from me
Relief or Comfort?

_Dio._ Penitence does appease
Th' incensed Powers, and Sacrifice takes off
Their heavy angers; thus I tender both;
The Master of great _Rome_, and in that, Lord
Of all the Sun gives heat and being to,
Thus sues for mercy; Be but as thou wert,
The Pilot to the Bark of my good fortunes,
And once more steer my actions to the Port
Of glorious Honour, and if I fall off
Hereafter from my faith to this sweet Virgin,
Joyn with those Powers that punish perjury,
To make me an example to deter
Others from being false.

_Dru._ Upon my soul,
You may believe him; nor did he e'r purpose
To me but nobly; he made tryal how
I could endure unkindness; I see Truth
Triumphant in his sorrow. Dearest Aunt,
Both credit him, and help him; and on assurance
That what I plead for, you cannot deny,
I raise him thus, and with this willing kiss
I seal his pardon.

_Dio._ O that I e'r lookt
Beyond this abstract of all womans goodness.

_Del._ I am thine again; thus I confirm our league;
I know thy wishes, and how much thou suffer'st
In honour for thy friends; thou shalt repair all;
For to thy Fleet I'll give a fore-right wind
To pass the _Persian_ Gulf; remove all lets
That may molest thy Souldiers in their March
That pass by land, and destiny is false,
If thou prove not victorious; Yet remember,
When thou art rais'd up to the highest point
Of humane happiness, such as move beyond it
Must of necessity descend. Think on't,
And use those Blessings that the gods pour on you
With moderation.

_Dio._ As their Oracle
I hear you, and obey you, and will follow
Your grave directions.

_Del._ You will not repent it. [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

_Enter_ Niger, Geta, _Guard, Souldiers, Ensigns_.

_Nig._ How do you like your entrance to the War?
When the whole Body of the Army moves,
Shews it not gloriously?

_Get._ 'Tis a fine _May-game_;
But eating and drinking I think are forbad in't,
(I mean, with leisure) we walk on, and feed
Like hungry Boys that haste to School; or as
We carried Fish to the City, dare stay no where,
For fear our ware should stink.

_1 Guard._ That's the necessity
Of our speedy March.

_Get._ Sir, I do love my ease,
And though I hate all Seats of Judicature,
I mean in the City, for conveniency,
I still will be a Justice in the War,
And ride upon my foot-cloth. I hope a Captain
(And a gown'd-Captain too) may be dispenc'd with.
I tell you, and do not mock me, when I was poor,
I could endure like others, cold and hunger;
But since I grew rich, let but my finger ake,
Or feel but the least pain in my great Toe,
Unless I have a Doctor, mine own Doctor,
That may assure me, I am gone.

_Nig._ Come, fear not;
You shall want nothing.

_1 Guard._ We will make you fight,
As you were mad.

_Get._ Not too much of fighting, friend;
It is thy trade, that art a common Souldier;
We Officers, by our place, may share the spoil,
And never sweat for't.