Hath not your uncle Dioclesian taken His last farewell o' th' world? What then can shake you?

Mari. The thought I may be shaken, and

assurance

That what we do possess is not our own,
But has depending on another's favour:
For nothing's more uncertain, my Aurelia,
Than power that stands not on his proper
basis,

But borrows his foundation. I'll 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 uncle's gift? and may he not resume it Upon the least distaste? Does not Charinus Cross me in my designs? and what is majesty When 'tis divided? Does not the insolent soldier

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, [rows
And know no equal; when your brother bor-
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 heavy burdens on a sea of glass,
And our own weight will sink us.

Aur. Your mother brought you
Into the world an emperor; you persuade
But what I would have counsell'd. Nearness
of blood,

Respect of piety, and thankfulness,

And all the holy dreams of virtuous fools, Must vanish into nothing, when Ambition (The maker of great minds, and nurse of bonour)

Puts in for empire. On then, and forget Your simple uncle; think he was the master (In being once an emperor) 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.

Mari. Thou more than woman! Thou masculine greatness, to whose soaring spirit

To touch the stars seems but an easy flight,
Oh, how I glory in thee! Those great woinen
Antiquity is proud of, thou but nam'd,
Shall be no more remember'd. But
And thou shalt shine among those lesser lights,

persevere,

Enter Charinus, Niger, and Guard.

To all posterity, like another Phœbe,
And so ador'd as she is.

Aur. Here's Charinus, His brow furrow'd with anger. Muri. Let him storm!

And you shall hear me thunder. Char. He dispose of

My provinces at his pleasure? and confer Those honours, that are only mine to give, Upon his creatures?

Niger. Mighty sir, ascribe it

To his assurance of your love and favour,
And not to pride or malice.

Char. No, good Niger;

Courtesy 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 centre.-You're well
met, sir.
[hear
Maxi. As you make the encounter. Sir, I
That you repine, and hold yourself much
griev'd,

In that, without your good leave, I bestow'd
The Gallian proconsulship upon
A follower of mine.

Char. 'Tis true; and wonder
You durst attempt it.

Mari. Durst, Charinus?

Char. Durst;

Again I speak it.

Think you me so tame,

So leaden and unactive, to sit down
With such dishonour? But, recall your grant,
And speedily; or, by the Roman gods,
Thou trip'st thine own heels up, and hast
no part

In Rome, or in the empire.

Mari. Thou hast none,

But by permission. Alas, poor Charinus, Thou shadow of an emperor, I scorn thee, Thee, and thy foolish threats! The gods appoint him

The absolute disposer of the earth, That has the sharpest sword: I'm sure, Charinus, [Aper Thou wear'st one without edge. When cruel Had kill'd Numerianus, thy brother, (An act that would have made a trembling

coward

More daring than Alcides) thy base fear
Made thee wink at it; then rose up my uncle,
For the honour of the empire, and of Rome,
Against the traitor, and, among his guards,
Punish'd the treason. This bold daring act
Got him the soldiers' suffrages to be Cæsar.
And howsoever his too-gentle nature
Allow'd thee the name only, as his gift,
I challenge the succession.

Char. Thou art cozen'd.
When the receiver of a courtesy

Cannot sustain the weight it carries with it, 'Tis but a trial, not a present act.

Thou hast in a few days of thy short reign,

act

In over-weening pride, riot, and lusts,
Sham'd noble Dioclesian, and his gift;
Nor doubt, when it shall arrive unto
His certain knowledge, how the empire groans
Under thy tyranny, but he will forsake
His private life, and once again resume
His laid-by majesty; or, at least, make choice
Of such an Atlas as may bear this burden,
Too heavy for thy shoulders. To effect this,
Lend your assistance, gentlemen; and then
doubt not

But that this mushroom, sprung up in a night,
Shall as soon wither. And for you. Aurelia,
If you esteem your honour more than tribute
Paid to your loathsome appetite, as a fury
Fly from his loose embraces. So, farewell!
Ere long you shall hear more. [Exeunt.
Aur. Are you struck dumb,
That you make no reply?

Mari. Sweet, I will do,

And after talk: I will prevent their plots,
And turn them on their own accursed beads.
My uncle? good! I must not know the names
Of piety or pity. Steel my heart,
Desire of empire, and instruct me, that
The prince that over others would bear sway,
Checks at no let that stops him in his way!
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Enter three Shepherds and two Countrymen. 1 Shep. Do you think this great man will continue here?

2 Shep. Continue here? what else? h'has
bought the great farm;

A great man, with a great inheritance,
And all the ground about it, all the woods too,
And stock'd it like an emperor. Now, all our
sports agam,

And all our merry gambols, our May-ladies,
Our evening dances on the green, our songs,
Our holiday good cheer, our bagpipes now,
boys,

Shall make the wanton lasses skip again,
Our sheep-shearings, and all our knacks.

But I would not have the text disturbed.

Betterton reads,

Sympson

And look upon me seriously, as you knew me :
'Tis true, I've been a rascal, as you are,
A fellow of no mention, nor no mark,
Just such another piece of dirt, so fashion'd;
But time, that purifies all things of merit,
Has set another stamp. Come nearer now,
And be not fearful (I take off iny austerity);
And know me for the great and mighty
steward

Under this man of honour; know ye for my vassals,

And at my pleasure I can dispeople ye, [try: Can blow you and your cattle out o' th' counBut fear me, and have favour. Come, go along with me,

['emn.

And I will hear your songs, and perhaps like 3 Shep. I hope you will, sir.

Geta. 'Tis not a thing impossible. Perhaps I'll sing myself, the more to grace ye; And if I like your woinen

3 Shep. We'll have the best, sir, Handsome young girls.

Geta. The handsomer the better.
Enter Delphia.

'May bring your wives too; 'twill be all one charge to ye;

For I must know your families.
Delph. 'Tis well said,

[hatching 'Tis well said, honest friends. I know ye're Some pleasurable sports for your great land

lord;

Fill him with joy, and win him a friend to ye, And make this little Grange seem a large empire, [favour, Let out 30 with home contents: I'll work his Which daily shall be on ye.

3 Shep. Then we'll sing daily, And make him the best sportsDelph. Instruct 'em, Geta, And be a merry man again.

Getu. Will you lend me a devil, That we may dance awhile? Delph. I'll lend thee two; And bag-pipes that shall blow alone. Geta. I thank you; [plexion first. But I'll know your devils of a cooler comCome, follow, follow; I'll go sit and see ye. Delph. Do; and be ready an hour hence, and bring 'em;

For in the grove you'll find him.

[Exeunt.

Enter Diocles 31 and Drusilla.
Dio. Come, Drusilla,

The partner of my best contents! I hope now
You dare believe ine.

Drus. Yes, and dare say to you,

I think you now most happy.

Dio. You say true, sweet;

For, by my soul, I find now by experience, Content was never courtier.

Drus. I pray you walk on, sir; The cool shades of the grove invite

you. Dio. Oh, my dearest! [ness, When man has cast off his ambitious greatAnd sunk into the sweetness of himself; Built his foundation upon honest thoughts; Not great, but good, desires his daily servants; How quietly he sleeps! How joyfully He wakes again, and looks on his possessions, And from his willing labours feeds with plea sure!

Here hang no comets in the shapes of crowns

Sympson.

VOL. II.

To shake our sweet contents; nor here, Drusilla,

cence:

Cares, like eclipses, darken our endeavours: We love here without rivals, kiss with inno[dren Our thoughts as gentle as our lips, our chilThe double heirs both of our forms and faiths. Drus. I'm glad ye make this right use of this sweetness,

This sweet retiredness.

Dio. Tis sweet indeed, love, And every circumstance about it shews it. How liberal is the spring in every place here! The artificial court shews but a shadow, A painted imitation of this glory. [cellence; Smell to this flower; here Nature has her exLet all the perfumes of the empire pass this, The carefull'st lady's cheek shew such a coThey're gilded and adulterate vanities. [lour; And here in poverty dwells noble nature. What pains we take to cool our wines, to allay us,

And bury quick the fuming God to quench us! [Musick below. Methinks this chrystal well-Ha! what strange musick?

'Tis underneath, sure!-How it stirs and joys me!

How all the birds set on! the fields redouble Their odoriferous sweets! Hark how the

Delph. Go near, and hear, son. Dio. Oh, mother, thank you, thank you! this was your will.

Delph. You shall not want delights to bless your presence. [nour you. Now you are honest, all the stars shall ho

Enter Shepherds and Dancers.

Stay; here are country shepherds; here's some sport too,

you.

And you must grace it, sir; 'twas meant to welcome [son. A king shall never feel your joy: Sit down, A dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses; Pan leading the men, Ceres the maids. Hold, hold! my messenger appears. Leave off, friends,

Leave off a while, and breathe.

Dio. What news? You're pale, mother. Delph. No; I am careful of thy safety, son. Be not affrighted, but sit still; I'm with thee. Enter Maximinian, Aurelia, and Soldiers. And now, dance out your dance.-D' you know that person?

Be not amaz'd, but let him shew his dreadfullest. [pleasures,

Mari. How confident he sits amongst his And what a cheerful colour shews in's face! And yet he sees me too, the soldiers with me. Aur. Be speedy in your work, (you will be stopt else)

And then you are an emperor!

Maxi. I'll about it.

Dio. My royal cousin, how I joy to see you, You and your royal empress!

Maxi. You're too kind, sir.

I come not to eat with you, and to surfeit
In these poor clownish pleasures; but to tell
I look upon you like my winding-sheet, [you,
The coffin of my greatness, nay, my grave:
For whilst you are alive————

Dio. Alive, my cousin?

Mari. I say, alive-I am no emperor;
I'm nothing but mine own disquiet.
Dio. Stay, sir!

Maxi. I cannot stay. The soldiers dote

upon you.

[rity I would fain spare you; but mine own secuCompels me to forget you are my uncle, Compels me to forget you made me Cæsar; For, whilst you are remember'd, I am buried. Dio. Did not I make you emperor, dear cousin?

The free gift from my special grace?
Delph. Fear nothing.

the soldier,

[you?

Dio. Did not I chuse this poverty, to raise That royal woman gave into your arms too? Bless'd you with her bright beauty? Gave [you? The soldier that hung to me, fix'd him on Gave you the world's command? Mari. This cannot help you. Dio. Yet this shall ease me.

so base, cousin,

Can you be

So far from nobleness, so far from nature,
As to forget all this? to tread this tie out?
Raise to yourself so foul a monument
That every common foot shall kick asunder?
Must my blood glue you to your peace?

Mari. It must, uncle;

I stand too loose else, and my foot too feeble: You gone once, and their love retir'd, I'm

rooted.

Dio. And cannot this remov'd poor state
obscure me?
[tiously

I do not seek for yours, nor enquire ambi After your growing fortunes. Take heed, my kinsman!

Ungratefulness and blood mingled together, Will, like two furious tides

Maxi. I must sail thro' 'em;

Let 'em be tides of death, sir, I must stem up. Dio. Hear but this last, and wisely yet consider!

Place round about my Grange a garrison,
That if I offer to exceed my limits,
Or ever in my common talk name emperor,
Ever converse with any greedy soldier,
Or look for adoration, nay, for courtesy,

[bravely!

Delph. Fall on, soldiers! You that sell innocent blood, fall on full 1 Sold. We cannot stir.

Delph. You have your liberty;

So have you, lady: One of you come do it.
[A hand with a bolt appears above.
D'ye stand amaz'd? Look o'er thy head,
Maximinian,

Look, to thy terror, what overhangs thee; Nay, it will nail thee dead: Look how it theatens thee!

[es; The bolt for vengeance on ungrateful wretch"The bolt of innocent blood :' Read those hot characters, [lady, And spell the will of Heav'n. Nay, lovely You must take part too, as spur to Ambition. Are you humble? Now speak; my part is Does all your glory shake? [ended.

Maxi. Hear us, great uncle, Good and great sir, be pitiful unto us! Below your feet we lay our lives; be merciful! Begin you, Heaven will follow.

Aur. Oh, it shakes still! [knowledge Mari. And dreadfully it theatens. We acOur base and foul intentions: Stand between us! [given:

For faults confess'd, they say, are half forWe're sorry for our sins. Take from us, sir, That glorious weight that made us swell, that poison'd us;

That mass of majesty I labour'd under, (Too heavy and too inighty for my manage)

Now shew your loves to entertain this empeMy honest neighbours! Geta, see all hand[little; Your Grace must pardon us; our house is But such an ample welcome as a poor man And his true love can make you and your Madam, we have no dainties. [empressAur. 'Tis enough, sir;

clesiau!

We shall enjoy the riches of your goodness. Sold. Long live the good and gracious Dio[rashness. Dio. I thank you, soldiers; I forgive your And, royal sir, long may they love and honour you!

[Drums beat a march afar off. What drums are those?

Delph. Meet 'em, my honest son; They are thy friends, Charinus and the old soldiers,

That come to rescue thee from thy hot cousin. But all is well; and turn all into welcomes! Two emperors you must entertain now,

Dio. Oh, dear mother,

I've will enough, but I want room and glory. Delph. That shall be my care. Sound your pipes now merrily, [welcomes!

And all your handsome sports: Sing 'em full Dio. And let 'em know, our true love breeds more stories,

And perfect joys, than kings do, and their glories. [Exeunt,