Pau. "Twill be short time. Licippus. Any device that's handsome, A Cupid, or the god o' th' place, will do it, Where he must take the fasces. Pau. Or a Grace. Licippus. A good Grace has no fellow. Will not his name yield something? Maximus, Licippus. Get him wheels too; 'Twill be a cruel carriage else. Pau. Some songs too? Licippus. By any means, some songs; but very short ones, And honest language, Paulus, without bursting, Pau. A Grace must do it. And in a robe of blue, too, as I take it. Licippus. This poet is a little kin to th' painter That could paint nothing but a ramping lion; So all his learned fancies are Blue Graces. [Aside. Pau. What think you of a sea-nymph? and a heaven? Licippus. Why, what should she do there, man? There's no water. Pau. By th' mass, that's true; it must be a Grace; and yet, Methinks, a rainbow Licippus. And in blue? Hanging in arch above him, and i' th' middle- Pau. No, no; it must be a Grace. Licippus. Why pr'ythee, grace him then. Pau. Or Orpheus, Coming from hell-Licippus. In blue, too? Pau. 'Tis the better. And, as he rises, full of fires Licippus. Now bless us ! Will not that spoil his lute-strings, Paulus? And crossing of his arms Licippus. How can he play then? Pau. It shall be a Grace; I'll do it. And with as good a grace as thou canst possible, Eud. Can a face Long since bequeath'd to wrinkles with my sor rows, Long since razed out o' th' book of youth and pleasure, Have power to make the strongest man o' th' Max. 'Tis true, Eudoxia. Eud. Lay desolate his dearest piece of friend And, till I am more strengthen'd, so I must do : And I dissemble? Can there be but goodness, Any imagination but a lost one, Why I should run this hazard? Oh, thou virtue! Were it to do again, and Valentinian Once more to hold thee, sinful Valentinian, In whom thou wert set, as pearls are in salt oysters, Eud. What love, sir, Can I return for this, but my obedience ? Max. 'Tis too much to redeem the world. The sorrows of my dead lord, fare ye well! Had I at loss of mankind. Enter a Messenger. Eud. Now you flatter. Mess. The senate waits your grace. Max. Let 'em come on, And in a full form bring the ceremony. This day I am your servant, dear, and proudly I'll wear your honour'd favour. Eud. May it prove so ! [Exeunt. A Synnet, with Trumpets: A Banquet prepared, with music. Enter, in state, MAXIMUS, EUDOXIA, Gentlemen and [A Boy descends from the clouds, habited like one of the Graces, and sings. SONG. Honour, that is ever living, 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! Max. I thank ye, fathers; And, as I rule, may it still grow or wither! I add unto the senate a new honour, Boy. Bellona's seed, the glory of old Rome, Envy of conquer'd nations, nobly come, And, to the fulness of your warlike noise, Let your feet move; make up this hour of joys. Come, come, I say; range your fair troop at large, And your high measure turn into a charge. [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 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; Semp. Speak, bloody woman! Eud. Yes: This Maximus, That was your Cæsar, lords, and noble soldiers, (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, Oh, loss! Oh, innocent! Can ye now kill me? There was a murder too, Rome would have blush'd 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 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: [Exeunt with the body. A dead march, EPILOGUE. WE would fain please ye, and as fain be pleased; We know, in meat and wine ye fling away And, my best sister, you as dear to my sight, govern'd My poor state in my absence, how my servants, Alice. As my woman's wit, sir, Which is but weak and crazy. Val. But, good Alice, Tell me how fares the gentle Cellidè, Is her love still Upon the growing hand? does it not stop 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, 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, 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; Alice. What is he? Val. A gentleman, I do assure myself, I sought his friendship, won him by much violence, I make him free companion in, and partner, Alice. I observe you; hold your right there; prognosticate A body keen and active: Somewhat old, Val. What, the old 'Squire of Dames still? I love a woman of her years, a pacer, [Aside. But where's my blessed Cellide? 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. How happy have you made me, truly happy! Val. You are noble ! [vant : Pray be acquainted with her. Keep your way, sir; My cousin, and my sister. Alice. You are most welcorae. Mary. If anything in our poor powers, fair sir, To render you content, and liberal welcome, May but appear, command it. Alice. You shall find us Happy in our performance. Fran. The poor servant Of both your goodnesses presents his service. Val. Come, no more compliment; custom has made it Dull, old, and tedious: You are once more welcome As your own thoughts can make ye, and the same And so we'll in to ratify it. Hylas. Hark ye, Valentine: Is Wild-Oats yet come over? Val. Yes, with me, sir. Mary. How does he bear himself? Val. A great deal better. [ever: 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! |