Max. I thank ye, fathers; A Synnet, with Trumpets: A Banquet prepared, with music. Enter, in state, MAXIMUS, EUDOXIA, Gentlemen and Soldiers; then the three Senators, FULVIUS, Lutius, and SEMPRONIUS; Lictors bearing rods and axes before them. Semp. Hail to thy imperial honour, sacred Cæsar! Let him begin with Numa, stand with Cato, [A Boy descends from the clouds, habited like one of the Graces, and sings. SONG. Honour, that is ever living, Honour, that sees all, and knows Chorus. Hail, hail, Cæsar, hail, and stand, Bind this wreath with thousand vows! [The Boy gives a wreath, which the Senators place on the head of MAXIMUS. All. Stand to eternity! And, as I rule, may it still grow or wither! I add unto the senate a new honour, SONG. God Lyæus, ever young, Ever honour'd, ever sung; [The Boy sings. Stain'd with blood of lusty grapes, In a thousand lusty shapes, Dance upon the mazer's brim, God of youth, let this day here Boy. Bellona's seed, the glory of old Rome, [A martial dance by the Soldiers, during which MAXIMUS falls back upon his couch. Semp. The emperor's grown heavy with his wine. Afr. The senate stays, sir, for your thanks. Semp. Great Cæsar! Eud. [Aside.] I have my wish! Afr. Will't please your grace speak to him? The senate must have thanks. Luc. Your grace! sir! Cæsar! Eud. Did I not tell you he was well? He's dead! Semp. Dead?-Treason! guard the court! let no man pass! Soldiers, your Cæsar's murdered. Eud. Make no tumult, Nor arm the court; ye have his killer with ye, Has made him earth. Sold. Cut her in thousand pieces! [They draw. Eud. Wise men would know the reason first. To die Is that I wish for, Romans, and your swords grant me (That was your empress once, and honour'd by ye) Afr. Hear her, ye noble Romans! 'Tis a woman; Has given us laws to make example of her; Semp. Speak, bloody woman! Eud. Yes: This Maximus, That was your Cæsar, lords, and noble soldiers, hh (And if I wrong the dead, Heaven perish me, Semp. Take heed, woman. Eud. I speak not for compassion. Brave Aëcius (Whose blest soul, if I lie, shall afflict me), The man that all the world loved, you adored, That was the master-piece of arms, and bounty, (Mine own grief shall come last) this friend of his, This soldier, this your right arm, noble Romans, By a base letter to the emperor, Stuff'd full of fears, and poor suggestions, Was cut off basely, basely, cruelly! Oh, loss! Oh, innocent! Can ye now kill me? To be abused. How? Let me grieve, not tell ye, Had we known this before? Romans, she's righteous; And such a piece of justice Heaven must smile on ! Bend all your swords on me, if this displease ye, Semp. Up with your arms; ye strike a saint else, Romans. May'st thou live ever spoken our protector: There was a murder too, Rome would have blush'd Rome yet has many noble heirs. Let's in, at ! Was this worth being Cæsar? or my patience? Nay, his wife, (By Heaven, he told it me in wine, and joy, And swore it deeply!) he himself prepared And pray before we choose; then plant a Cæsar 2 EPILOGUE. WE would fain please ye, and as fain be pleased; We know, in meat and wine ye fling away Then, noble friends, as ye would choose a miss, My poor state in my absence, how my servants, Alice. As my woman's wit, sir, Val. But, good Alice, Tell me how fares the gentle Cellidè, Alice. They need not; for, believe me, So well you have managed her, and won her mind, Made him appear in years, in grey years fiery, And willingly, to give it ever harbour; Believe she is so much your's, and won by miracle, (Which is by age) so deep a stamp set on her By your observances, she cannot alter. Val. Oh, no more, good sister; Touch no more that string, 'tis too harsh and jarring ! With that child all my hopes went, and, you know, The root of all those hopes, the mother too, Within few days. Alice. 'Tis too true, and too fatal ; But peace be with their souls! Val. For her loss, I hope the beauteous Cellidè- Val. For the poor boy's loss, I have brought a noble friend I found in travel; A worthier mind, and a more temperate spirit, If I have so much judgment to discern 'em, Man yet was never master of. Alice. What is he? Val. A gentleman, I do assure myself, I sought his friendship, won him by much violence, To thrust a charge upon me. How I love him, I make him free companion in, and partner, Alice. I observe you; hold your right there: Love and high rule allow no rivals, brother. He shall have fair regard, and all observance. Enter HYLAS. Hylas. You are welcome, noble sir. Hylas. I'faith you're welcome home! What news beyond seas? Val. None, but new men expected, such as you To breed new admirations. 'Tis my sister; [are, 'Pray you know her, sir. Ilulas. With all my heart. Your leave, lady? A body keen and active: Somewhat old, Val. What, the old 'Squire of Dames still? I love a woman of her years, a pacer, Enter MARY. Alice. My cousin Mary, In all her joy, sir, to congratulate Val. My loving and kind cousin, A thousand welcomes! Mary. A thousand thanks to Heaven, sir, For your safe voyage and return! Val. I thank you. [Aside. But where's my blessed Cellidè? Her slackness In visitation Mary. Think not so, dear uncle; I left her on her knees, thanking the gods Val. You have given me too much comfort. Val. It is so, and a bait you cannot balk, sir, Mary. Oh, 'tis a kiss you would, sir; Take it, and tie your tongue up. Hylas. I'm an ass, I do perceive now, a blind ass, a blockhead; Enter FRANCISCO at one door, and CELLIDE at another. Dull, old, and tedious: You are once more welcome Hylas. Hark ye, Valentine: Mary. How does he bear himself? Val. A great deal better. Why do you blush? The gentleman will do well. Mary. I should be glad on't, sir. Val. How does his father? Hylas. As mad a worm as e'er he was. Val. I look'd for't; Shall we enjoy your company? Hylas. I'll wait on ye: Only a thought or two. Val. We bar all prayers. [Exeunt all but HYLAS. Hylas. This last wench! ay, this last wench was a fair one, A dainty wench, a right one! A devil take it, SCENE II.-An Apartment in SEBASTIAN'S House. Enter SEBASTIAN and LAUNCELOT. Seb. Sirrah, no more of your French shrugs, I If you be lousy, shift yourself. [advise you! Laun. May it please your worship Seb. Only to see my son; my son, good Laun- Or get you gone again! Du gata whee, sir! Laun. Then, to answer punctually,- Laun. Then I say to th' purpose; May meet me at the nearest: Your son, my master, To ask your (as the Frenchman calls it sweetly) Seb. Sirrah, don't conjure me with your French [furies. Tho. Else certain I had perish'd with my rudeEre I had won myself to that discretion I hope you shall hereafter find. Seb. Humh, humh! [ness Discretion? is it come to that? the boy's spoil'd. Tho. Sirrah, you rogue, look for't! for I will make thee Ten times more miserable than thou thought'st thyself Before thou travell'dst: Thou hast told my father (I know it, and I find it) all my rogueries, By mere way of prevention, to undo me. Laun. Sir, as speak eight languages, I only Told him you came to ask his benediction, De jour en jour! Tho. But that I must be civil, I would beat thee like a dog.-Sir, howsoever Tho. Yet, dear father, Your own experience in my after-courses Enter DOROTHEA. Seb. Pr'ythee no more; 'tis scurvy! There's thy sister. Undone, without redemption! he eats with picks; Hang o'er his head that thus transform'd thee: I'll send my horse to travel next!-We, Monsieur! Dor. I am gladder to see you (with more love too, I dare maintain it) than my father's sorry To see (as he supposes) your conversion; And I am sure he's vexed; nay, more, I know it; He has pray'd against it mainly: But it appears, sir, You had rather blind him with that poor opinion Than in yourself correct it. Dearest brother, Since there is in our uniform resemblance No more to make us two but our bare sexes, And since one happy birth produced us hither, Let one more happy mind In Dor. Now you play your true self; How would my father love this! I'll assure you : Tho. No more of that, sweet Doll; I will be Dor. But how long? [civil. |