Val. Two valiant Romans; this, Horatius Cocles,
This gentleman call'd Mutius Scævola;
Who, whilst King Servius wore the diadem,
Upheld his sway and princedom by their loves.
But he being fall'n, since all the peers of Rome
Applaud King Tarquin in his sovereignty,
They with like suffrage greet your coronation.
Hor. This hand, allied unto the Roman crown,
Whom never fear dejected, or cast low,
Lays his victorious sword at Tarquin's feet,
And prostrates with that sword, allegiance.
King Servius' life we lov'd, but, he expir'd,
Great Tarquin's life is in our hearts desir'd.

Sca. Who, whilst he rules with justice and integrity,
Shall with our dreadless hands our hearts command,
Even with the best employments of our lives ;
Since fortune lifts thee, we submit to fate;

Ourselves are vassals to the Roman state.

Tar. Your rooms were empty in our train of friends,
Which we rejoice to see so well supplied:

Receive our grace, live in our clement favours,
In whose submission our young glory grows

To his ripe height: fall in our friendly train,

And strengthen with your loves our infant reign.
Hor. We live for Tarquin.

Sca. And to thee alone, whilst justice keeps thy sword and thou thy throne.

Tar. Then are you ours; and now conduct us straight In triumph through the populous streets of Rome,

To the king's palace our majestic seat;

Your hearts, though freely proffer'd, we entreat.

[Sennet. As they march, Tullia treads on her father's body and stays.

Tul. What block is that we tread on?

Luc. 'Tis the body

Of your deceased father; madam! queen!

Your shoe is crimson'd with his vital blood.

Tul. No matter, let his mangled body lie,

And with his base confederates strew the streets,
That, in disgrace of his usurped pride,

[aside.

We o'er his trunk may in our chariot ride :

For, mounted like a queen, 'twould do me good

To wash my coach-naves in my father's blood.
Luc. Here's a good child.

[aside.

Tar. Remove it, we command,

And bear his carcase to the funeral pile,
Where, after this dejection, let it have
His solemn and due obsequies. Fair Tullia,
Thy hate to him grows from thy love to us;
Thou showest thyself in this unnatural strife
An unkind daughter, but a loving wife.
But on, unto our palace; this blest day,
A king's encrease grows by a king's decay.

[exeunt all but Brutus.
Bru. Murder the king! a high and capital treason.
Those giants that wag'd war against the gods,
For which th' o'erwhelmed mountains hurl'd by Jove
To scatter them, and give them timeless graves,
Was not more cruel than this butchery,

This slaughter made by Tarquin: but, the queen!

A woman, fie! fie! did not this she-parricide
Add to her father's wounds? and when his body
Lay all besmear'd and stain'd in the blood royal,
Did not this monster, this infernal hag,

Make her unwilling charioteer drive on,

And with his shod wheels crush her father's bones?
Break his craz'd scull, and dash his sparkled brains
Upon the pavements, whilst she held the reins?
The affrighted sun at this abhorred object,

Put on a mask of blood, and yet she blush'd not.
Jove, art thou just? hast thou reward for piety,
And for offence no vengeance? or cans't punish
Felons, and pardon traitors? chastise murderers,
And wink at parricides? if thou be worthy,
As well we know thou art, to fill the throne

Of all eternity, then with that hand

That flings the trifulk thunder, let the pride

Of these our irreligious monarchisers

Be crown'd in blood. This makes poor Brutus mad,
To see sin frolic, and the virtuous sad.

Enter SEXTUS and ARUNS.

Aru. Soft! here's Brutus; let us acquaint him with the

news.

Sex. Content :-now, cousin Brutus.

Bru. Who, I, your kinsman? though I be of the blood of the Tarquins, yet no cousin, gentle prince.

Aru. And why so, Brutus, scorn you our alliance? Bru. No, I was cousin to the Tarquins, when they were subjects, but dare claim no kindred as they are sovereigns.

Brutus is not so mad, though he be merry; but he hath wit enough to keep his head on his shoulders.

Aru. Why do you, lord, thus lose your hours, and neither profess war nor domestic profit? The first might beget you love, the other riches.

Bru. Because I would live; have I not answered you,'cause I would live: fools and mad men are no rubs in the way of usurpers; the firmament can brook but one sun, and for my part I must not shine: I had rather live an obscure black, than appear a fair white to be shot at ; the end of all is, I would live. Had Servius been a shrub, the wind had not shook him; or a mad-man, he'd not perished: I covet no more wit nor employment than as much as will keep life and soul together: I would but live.

Aru. You are satirical, cousin Brutus; but, to the purpose: the king dreamt a strange and ominous dream last night, and, to be resolv'd of the event, my brother Sextus and I must to the Oracle.

Sex. And because we would be well accompanied, we have got leave of the king that you, Brutus, shall associate us, for our purpose is to make a merry journey on't.

Bru. So you'd carry me along with you, to be your fool, and make you merry.

Sex. Not our fool, but

Bru. To make you merry: I shall, nay, I will make you merry, or tickle you till you laugh! The Oracle! I'll go to be resolv'd of some doubts private to myself: nay, Princes, I am so much endear'd both to your loves and companies, that you shall not have the power to be rid of me. What limits have we for our journey?

Sex. Five days, no more.

Bru. I shall fit me to your preparations: but one thing more; goes Collatine along?

Sex. Collatine is troubl'd with the common disease of all new married men; he's sick of the wife: his excuse is, forsooth, that Lucrece will not let him go; but you, having neither wife nor wit to hold you, I hope will not disappoint us.

Bru. Had I both, yet should you prevail with me above either.

Aru. We shall expect you.

Bru. Horatius Cocles and Mutius Scævola are not engag'd in this expedition?

Aru. No, they attend the King: farewell.

Bru. Lucretius stays at home too, and Valerius ?

Sex. The palace cannot spare them.

Bru. None but we three?

Sex. We three.

Bru. We three; well, five days' hence.

Sex. You have the time, farewell.

[exeunt Sextus and Aruns.

Bru. The time, I hope, cannot be circumscrib'd
Within so short a limit; Rome and I

Are not so happy; what's the reason, then,
Heaven spares his rod so long? Mercury, tell me !
I hav't, the fruit of pride is yet but green,
Not mellow; though it grows apace, it comes not
To his full height: Jove oft delays his vengeance,
That when it hape 't may prove more terrible.
Despair not, Brutus, then, but let thy country