I have no power to make such enemies: Old as I am, and quench'd with scars, and sorrows, Yet would I make this wither'd arm do wonders, And open in an enemy such wounds Pont. Then have at you; And look upon me, and be sure you fear not: Thou shalt behold and find I was no traitor, If I were foe to any thing, 'twas ease, Aud e'en began to prey upon our honours ; To wants at home, and more than wants, abuses; To them that, when the enemy invaded, Made us their saints, but now the sores of Rome; 45 To silken flattery, and pride plain'd over, To silken flattery, and pride plum'd over 15, Forgetting with what wind their feathers sail, And under whose protection their soft plea sures Grow full and numberless: To this I'm foc, ter. Ecius. I want a name to give thy virtue, For only good is far below thee, Pontius; The gods shall find thee one! Th'hast fashion'd death In such an excellent and beauteous manner, I wonder men can live! Canst thou speak once more? Pont. Die nobly! Rome, farewell! And, Valentinian, fall! th' hast broke thy basis. In joy you've given me a quiet death: I would strike more wounds, if I had more Or any man would out-live such a dying? [not: Come, and I'll kiss your weapons. Fear me By all the gods, I'll honour ye for killing! Appear, or thro' the court, and world, I'll search ye! Forgetting with what wind their feathers sail.] Though pride plain'd over is a just metaphor, taken singly, yet plum'd being near the trace of the letters, less vulgar, and perfctly consistent with the context, which the other is not, I hope the reader will permit the insertion of it in the text, as most probably the true reading. Seward. 46 A farewell.] The change of this substantive into a verb, seems not only to make it more natural, but would give infinitely more dignity in the action. Seward. Mr. Seward therefore omits the article a; but surely the old reading is full as natura!, and perhaps more pathetic: Can you speak once more? Yes; a farewell. Your hand! forgive me! &c.' My sword is gone 47. [Throws it from him.] fards? Ye're traitors if ye spare me, And Cæsar must consume ye! All base cowI'll follow ye, and, ere I die, proclaim ye The weeds of Italy, the dross of Nature! Where are ye, villains, traitors, slaves? [Exit. Enter Proculus, and three others, running over the stage. Proc. I knew Il' had kill'd the captain. [friends. 1. Here's his sword. Proc. Let it alone; 'twill fight itself else, An hundred men are not enough to do it: I'll to the emperor, and get more aid. Ecins. [within.] None strike a poor condemn'd man? Proc. He is mad: Shift for yourselves, my masters! [Exeunt. Enter Ecius. Feius. Then, Aecius, [Takes up his sword. See what thou dar'st thyself. Hold, my good sword; [kiss thee, Thou hast been kept from blood too long. I'll For thou art more than friend now, my pre server! Shew me the way to happiness; I seck it. Whilst there is people, and ambition. There is no pain at all in dying well, Enter Proculus and two others. And I am glad he's gone: He was a devil! entrance. [Exeunt. Of whom now shall we learn to live like men? From whom draw out our actions just and worthy? [goodness, Oh, thou art gone, and gone with thee all The great example of all equity; Oh, thou alone à Roman, thou art perish'd, And you that fear'd him as a noble foe, Phid. Oh, lord Maximus! Mar. The gods forgive me!- [tears; Think not the worse, my friends, I shed not Great griefs lament within. Yet, now I've [women, found 'em. 'Would I had never known the world, nor Who shall preserve ye now? Are. Nay, we are lost too. Max. I fear y ye are; for likely such as love The man that's fall'n, and have been nourish'd by him, [dom. Do not stay long behind: 'Tis held no wisI know what I must do. Oh, my Aecius, Canst thou thus perish,pluck'd up by the roots, 47 My sword is gone.] The directions, Throws it from him, and Takes up his sword, are now first introduced: One of the fugitives saying, "Here's his sword," we think, sufficiently warrants them, as well as My sword is gone," which appeared to us corrupt, till the di rections were inserted. 4 And beg my pardon.] Mr. Seward, without authority or remark, reads, "thy pardon." It is scarcely necessary to add, the old text means, I beg you, friend, to grant me iny pardon.' ་ And no man feel thy worthiness? From boys Or any thing but death, now he is dead? He bred you both, I think. Phid. And from the poorest. Max. And lov'd ye as his own? Are. We found it, sir. Mar. Is not this a loss then? Phid. Oh, a loss of losses! Our lives, and ruins of our families, The utter being nothing of our names, Max. As I take it too, He put ye to the emperor? Max. And kept ye still in credit? Mar. He fed your fathers too, and made Your sisters he preferr❜d to noble wedlocks; Are. Oh, yes, sir. This worthy man would not be now forgotten. And something may be. Pray stand off a Let me bewail him private.—Oh, my dear Dar'st thou resolve? Are. I'm perfect. Phid. Then, like flowers That grew together all, we'll fall together 49, done, The world shall stile us two deserving ser vants. greater, Than green Olympus, Ida, or old Latmus flowers, Or willing Heaven can weep for in her show[Exeunt. That grew together all, we'll fall together, ers. And with us that that bore us.] As Phidias and Aretus mean only their own deaths, without a junction with Maximus, instead of all I read still. The last line seems to be much more corrupt. They say, that that bore them should fall with them; but Æcius was already fallen, and they would not call Valentinian the root or stalk that bore them. This character only belongs to Ecius. I suppose a monosyllable lost in the manuscript, and that the line there stood thus; "And with that that bore us." In correcting this, I suppose the editors to have repeated the us when they should have repeated the fall from the former line. Seward. "That grew together still, we'll fall together, Mr. Seward's alteration is too violent: From the turn of the expression one might conclude that they meant to declare their resolution of falling with cius, whose followers they were: In which spirit they immediately subjoin, "The world shall stile us two deserving servants." Yet at the opening of the next act they re-appear, having given the means of death both to themselves and to the Emperor, and exhorting each other to "Remember who dies with thee, and despise death." From this circumstance it seems probable, that by "falling with that that bore us" they mean the Emperor. VOL. II. K ACT Phid. Then, come the worst of dan- Aecius, to thy soul we give a Cæsar. Are. An hour; [me! I dealt above his antidotes: Physicians We're got before his tyranny, Aretus. Are. We'd lost our worthiest end else, Phid. Canst thou hold out a while? Phid. Remember who dies with thee, and despise death. me, Are. I need no exhortation: The joy in [pleasure, Of what I've done, and why, makes poison And my most killing torments, mistresses. For how can he have time to die, or pleasure, That falls as fools unsatisfied, and simple? Phid. This that consumes my life, yet Nor do I feel the danger of a dying; And thou shalt see to wishes beyond ours, Phid. Thou hast steel'd me. Farewell, Arctus; and the souls of good men, That, as ours do, have left their Roman bodies In brave revenge for virtue, guide our shadows! I would not faint yet. Are. Farewell, Phidias; And, as we have done nobly, gods look on us! [Exeunt severally. SCENE II. Care-charming Sleep, thou easer of all woes, Dying, Eudoxia, dying. Phys. Good sir, patience. 50 Sings his pain.] First folio. Other copies, sing. We apprehend the true reading to be either soothe or 'suage. 51 Oh, gods, &c.] This deserves to be compared with the celebrated poisoning-scene in King John, to which however it will hardly be deemed equal. In another play, A Wife for a Month, the reader will find our Authors again emulating Shakespeare on the same subject, and we think with greater success. R. The similarity of these several passages is mentioned by Mr. Seward in his Preface: Val. And Volga, on whose face the North I am a hundred hells 52! an hundred piles Phys. You must not, sir. Val. By Heav'n, I'll let my breath out, that shall burn ye all, If ye deny me longer! Tempests, blow me! [thecaries; Val. Yet no comfort? Are. Be not abus'd with priests, nor 'poThey cannot help thee: Thou hast now to live A short half-hour, no more; and I, ten miI gave thee poison for Aecius' sake, [nutes. Such a destroying poison would kill Nature; And, for thou shalt not die alone, I took it. If mankind had been in thee at this murder, No more to people earth again, the wings Of old Time clip'd for ever, Reason lost, In what I had attempted, yet, oh, Cæsar, To purchase fair revenge, I'd poison'd them tou. Val. Oh, villain !-I grow hotter, hotter. [now But not near my heat yet. What thou feel'st (Mark me with horror, Cæsar) are but embers Of lust and lechery thou hast committed; And inundations that have drunk up king-But there be flames of murder! doms, [villain? ness, Finding no true disease in man but money, That talk yourselves into revenues--oh! And, ere you kill your patients, beggar 'em, I'll have ye flea'd and dried! Enter Proculus and Licinius, with Aretus. Proc. The villain, sir; The most accursed wretch. Vul. Be gone, my queen; Proc. Go, go, and be happy. [Exit Eud. The gods have set thy last hour, Valentinian; Are. Curse yourselves, ye flatterers, And howl your miseries to come, ye wretches! You taught him to be poison'd. Val. Fetch out tortures. Are. Do, and I'll flatter thee; nay more, Thy tortures, to what now I suffer, Cæsar, T'al. Let 'em alone. I must drink. But not near me yet. Val. Hold me, hold me, hold me! Hold me, or I shall burst else! Are. See me, Cæsar, [murder. And see to what thou must come for thy Millions of women's labours, all diseases Val. Oh, my afflicted soul too! Are. Women's fears, horrors, [breeds→→ Thou hast a pull beyond all these. Ch, villain, cursed villain! Are. Oh, brave villain! My poison dances in me at this deed! The brazen bull of Phalaris was feign'd, [me! Val Oh, quench me, queuch me, quench Are. Fire a flattery, And all the poets' tales of sad Avernus, To my pains, less than fictions. Yet, to shew thee [ter, What constant love I bore my murder'd mas 52 I find an hundred hells.] The old folio reads, "I and an hundred hells." The late edicions changed this into good sense; but seem to have fallen much short of the spirit and energy of the true reading, "I am an hundred hells." Seward, |