Pro.I knewH'ad kill'd the Captain.1.Here's his sword.Pro.Let it alone, 'twill fight it self else; friends,An hundred men are not enough to do it,I'le to the Emperour, and get more aid.Aeci.None strike a poor condemned man?Pro.He is mad:Shift for your selves my Masters.—[Exeunt.
Pro.I knewH'ad kill'd the Captain.
1.Here's his sword.
Pro.Let it alone, 'twill fight it self else; friends,An hundred men are not enough to do it,I'le to the Emperour, and get more aid.
Aeci.None strike a poor condemned man?
Pro.He is mad:Shift for your selves my Masters.—[Exeunt.
EnterÆcius.
Æcius.ThenÆcius,See what thou darst thy self; hold my good sword,Thou hast been kept from bloud too long, I'le kiss thee,For thou art more then friend now, my preserver,Shew me the way to happiness, I seek it:And all you great ones, that have faln as I do,To keep your memories, and honours living,Be present in your vertues, and assist me,That like strongCato, I may put awayAll promises, but what shall crown my ashes;Rome, fare thee well: stand long, and know to conquerWhilst there is people, and ambition:Now for a stroak shall turn me to a Star:I come ye blessed spirits, make me roomTo live for ever inElyzium:Do men fear this? O that posterityCould learn from him but this, that loves his wound,There is no pain at all in dying well,Nor none are lost, but those that make their hell—[Kills himself.
Æcius.ThenÆcius,See what thou darst thy self; hold my good sword,Thou hast been kept from bloud too long, I'le kiss thee,For thou art more then friend now, my preserver,Shew me the way to happiness, I seek it:And all you great ones, that have faln as I do,To keep your memories, and honours living,Be present in your vertues, and assist me,That like strongCato, I may put awayAll promises, but what shall crown my ashes;Rome, fare thee well: stand long, and know to conquerWhilst there is people, and ambition:Now for a stroak shall turn me to a Star:I come ye blessed spirits, make me roomTo live for ever inElyzium:Do men fear this? O that posterityCould learn from him but this, that loves his wound,There is no pain at all in dying well,Nor none are lost, but those that make their hell—[Kills himself.
EnterProculus,and two others.
1Within.He's dead, draw in the Guard again.Pro.He's dead indeed,And I am glad he's gone; he was a Devil:His body, if his Eunuchs come, is theirs;The Emperour out of his love to vertue,Has given 'em that: Let no man stop their entrance.[Exeunt.
1Within.He's dead, draw in the Guard again.
Pro.He's dead indeed,And I am glad he's gone; he was a Devil:His body, if his Eunuchs come, is theirs;The Emperour out of his love to vertue,Has given 'em that: Let no man stop their entrance.[Exeunt.
EnterPhidias,andAretus.
Phi.O my most noble Lord, look hereAretus,Here's a sad sight.Aret.O cruelty! OCæsar!O times that bring forth nothing but destruction,And over[fl]ows of bloud: why wast thou kill'd?Is it to be a just man now again,As whenTiberiusand wildNeroreign'd,Only assurance of his over throw?Phi[d].It isAretus: he that would live now,Must like the Toad, feed only on corruptions,And grow with those to greatness: honest vertue,And the trueRomanhonour, faith and valourThat have been all the riches of the Empire,Now like the fearfull tokens of the Plague,Are meer fore-runners of their ends that owe 'em.Are.Never enough lamented Lord: dear Master—
Phi.O my most noble Lord, look hereAretus,Here's a sad sight.
Aret.O cruelty! OCæsar!O times that bring forth nothing but destruction,And over[fl]ows of bloud: why wast thou kill'd?Is it to be a just man now again,As whenTiberiusand wildNeroreign'd,Only assurance of his over throw?
Phi[d].It isAretus: he that would live now,Must like the Toad, feed only on corruptions,And grow with those to greatness: honest vertue,And the trueRomanhonour, faith and valourThat have been all the riches of the Empire,Now like the fearfull tokens of the Plague,Are meer fore-runners of their ends that owe 'em.
Are.Never enough lamented Lord: dear Master—
EnterMaximus.
Of whom now shall we learn to live like men?From whom draw out our actions just, and worthy?Oh thou art gone, and gone with thee all goodness,The great example of all equitie,O thou alone aRoman, thou art perish'd,Faith, fortitude, and constant nobleness,WeepRome, weepItaly, weep all that knew him,And you that fear'd him as a noble Foe,(If Enemies have honourable tears)Weep this decay'dÆciusfaln, and scattered—By foul, and base suggestion.Ph[i].O LordMaximus,This was your worthy friend.Max.The gods forgive me:Think not the worse my friends, I shed not tears,Great griefs lament within; yet now I have found 'em:Would I had never known the world, nor women,Nor what that cursed name of honour was,So this were once againÆcius:But I am destin'd to a mighty action,And begg my pardon friend, my vengeance taken,I will not be long from thee: ye have a great loss,But bear it patiently, yet to say truthIn justice 'tis not sufferable: I am next,And were it now, I would be glad on't: friends,Who shall preserve you now?Are.Nay we are lost too.Max.I fear ye are, for likely such as loveThe man that's faln, and have been nourish'd by him,Do not stay long behind: 'Tis held no wisdom.I know what I must do. O myÆcius,Canst thou thus perish, pluckt up by the roots,And no man feel thy worthiness? From boysHe bred you both I think.Phi.And from the poorest.Max.And lov'd ye as his own.Are.We found it Sir.Max.Is not this a loss then?Phi.O, a loss of losses;Our lives, and ruines of our families,The utter being nothing of our names,Were nothing near it.Max.As I take it too,He put ye to the Emperour.Are.He did so.Max.And kept ye still in credit.Phi.'Tis most true Sir.Max.He fed your Fathers too, and made them means,Your Sisters he prefer'd to noble Wedlocks,Did he not friends?Are.Oh yes Sir.Max.As I take itThis worthy man would not be now forgotten,I tell ye to my grief, he was basely murdred;And something would be done, by those that lov'd him:And something may be: pray stand off a little,Let me bewail him private: O my dearest.Phi.Aretus, if we be not sudden, he outdoes us,I know he points at ven[ge]ance; we are cold,And base ungratefull wretches, if we shun it:Are we to hope for more rewards, or greatness,Or any thing but death, now he is dead?Dar'st thou resolve?Are.I am perfect.Phi.Then like flowersThat grew together all we'l fall together,And with us that that bore us: when 'tis doneThe world shall stile us two deserving servants:I fear he will be before us.Are.This nightPhidias.Phi.No more.Max.Now worthy friends I have done my mournings,Let's burn this noble body: Sweets as manyAs sun-burntMeroebreeds, I'le make a flame of,Shall reach his soul in Heaven: he that shall liveTen ages hence, but to reherse this story,Shall with the sad discourse on't, darken Heaven,And force the painful burdens from the wombsConceiv'd a new with sorrow: even the GraveWhere mightySyllasleeps shall rend asunderAnd give her shadow up, to come and groanAbout our piles, which will be more, and greaterThan greenOlympus,Ida, or oldLatmusCan feed with Cedar, or the East with Gums,Greecewith her wines, orThessaliewith flowers,Or willing heaven can weep for in her showres.[Exeunt.
Of whom now shall we learn to live like men?From whom draw out our actions just, and worthy?Oh thou art gone, and gone with thee all goodness,The great example of all equitie,O thou alone aRoman, thou art perish'd,Faith, fortitude, and constant nobleness,WeepRome, weepItaly, weep all that knew him,And you that fear'd him as a noble Foe,(If Enemies have honourable tears)Weep this decay'dÆciusfaln, and scattered—By foul, and base suggestion.
Ph[i].O LordMaximus,This was your worthy friend.
Max.The gods forgive me:Think not the worse my friends, I shed not tears,Great griefs lament within; yet now I have found 'em:Would I had never known the world, nor women,Nor what that cursed name of honour was,So this were once againÆcius:But I am destin'd to a mighty action,And begg my pardon friend, my vengeance taken,I will not be long from thee: ye have a great loss,But bear it patiently, yet to say truthIn justice 'tis not sufferable: I am next,And were it now, I would be glad on't: friends,Who shall preserve you now?
Are.Nay we are lost too.
Max.I fear ye are, for likely such as loveThe man that's faln, and have been nourish'd by him,Do not stay long behind: 'Tis held no wisdom.I know what I must do. O myÆcius,Canst thou thus perish, pluckt up by the roots,And no man feel thy worthiness? From boysHe bred you both I think.
Phi.And from the poorest.
Max.And lov'd ye as his own.
Are.We found it Sir.
Max.Is not this a loss then?
Phi.O, a loss of losses;Our lives, and ruines of our families,The utter being nothing of our names,Were nothing near it.
Max.As I take it too,He put ye to the Emperour.
Are.He did so.
Max.And kept ye still in credit.
Phi.'Tis most true Sir.
Max.He fed your Fathers too, and made them means,Your Sisters he prefer'd to noble Wedlocks,Did he not friends?
Are.Oh yes Sir.
Max.As I take itThis worthy man would not be now forgotten,I tell ye to my grief, he was basely murdred;And something would be done, by those that lov'd him:And something may be: pray stand off a little,Let me bewail him private: O my dearest.
Phi.Aretus, if we be not sudden, he outdoes us,I know he points at ven[ge]ance; we are cold,And base ungratefull wretches, if we shun it:Are we to hope for more rewards, or greatness,Or any thing but death, now he is dead?Dar'st thou resolve?
Are.I am perfect.
Phi.Then like flowersThat grew together all we'l fall together,And with us that that bore us: when 'tis doneThe world shall stile us two deserving servants:I fear he will be before us.
Are.This nightPhidias.
Phi.No more.
Max.Now worthy friends I have done my mournings,Let's burn this noble body: Sweets as manyAs sun-burntMeroebreeds, I'le make a flame of,Shall reach his soul in Heaven: he that shall liveTen ages hence, but to reherse this story,Shall with the sad discourse on't, darken Heaven,And force the painful burdens from the wombsConceiv'd a new with sorrow: even the GraveWhere mightySyllasleeps shall rend asunderAnd give her shadow up, to come and groanAbout our piles, which will be more, and greaterThan greenOlympus,Ida, or oldLatmusCan feed with Cedar, or the East with Gums,Greecewith her wines, orThessaliewith flowers,Or willing heaven can weep for in her showres.[Exeunt.