Emp. What an afflicted Conscience do I live with,
And what a beast I am grown! I had forgotten
To ask Heaven mercy for my fault, and was now
Even ravishing again her memory,
I find there must be danger in this deed:
Why do I stand disputing then and whining?
For what is not the gods to give, they cannot
Though they would link their powers in one, do mischief.
This Letter may betray me, get ye gone [Exeunt.
And wait me in the Garden, guard the house well,
And keep this from the Empress: the name Maximus
Runs through me like a feavour, this may be
Some private Letter upon private business,
Nothing concerning me: why should I open't?
I have done him wrong enough already; yet
It may concern me too, the time so tells me;
The wicked deed I have done, assures me 'tis so.
Be what it will, I'le see it, if that be not
Part of my fears, among my other sins,
I'le purge it out in prayers:
How? what's this?
Letter read] Lord Maximus, you love Æcius,
And are his noble friend too; bid him be less,
I mean less with the people, times are dangerou:
The Army's his, the Emperour in doubts;
And as some will not stick to say, declining,
You stand a constant man in either fortune;
Perswade him, he is lost else: Though ambition
Be the last sin he touches at, or never;
Yet what the people mad with loving him,
And as they willingly desire another
May tempt him to, or rather force his goodness,
Is to be doubted mainly: he is all,
(As he stands now) but the meer name of Cæsar,
And should the Emperour inforce him lesser,
Not coming from himself, it were more dangerous:
He is honest, and will hear you: doubts are scatter'd,
And almost come to growth in every houshold:
Yet in my foolish judgment, were this master'd,
The people that are now but rage, and his,
Might be again obedience: you shall know me
When Rome is fair again; till when I love you.
No name! this may be cunning, yet it seems not;
For there is nothing in it but is certain,
Besides my safety.
Had not good Germanicus,
That was as loyal, and as straight as he is,
If not prevented by Tiberius,
Been by the Souldiers forc'd their Emperour?
He had, and 'tis my wisdom to remember it.
And was not Corbulo, even that Corbulo,
That ever fortunate and living Roman,
That broke the heart-strings of the Parthians,
And brought Arsaces line upon their knees,
Chain'd to the awe of Rome, because he was thought
(And but in wine once) fit to make a Cæsar,
Cut off by Nero? I must seek my safety:
For 'tis the same again, if not beyond it:
I know the Souldier loves him more than Heaven,
And will adventure all his gods to raise him;
Me he hates more than peace: what this may breed,
If dull security and confidence
Let him grow up, a fool may find and laught at.
But why Lord Maximus I injur'd so,
Should be the man to counsel him, I know not;
More than he has been friend, and lov'd allegeance:
What now he is I fear, for his abuses
Without the people dare draw blood; who waits there?
Enter a Servant.
Emp. Call Phidias and Aretus hither:
I'le find a day for him too; times are dangerous,
The Army his, the Emperour in doubts:
I find it is too true; did he not tell me
1. As if he had intent to make me odious,
2. And to my face; and by a way of terror,
What vices I was grounded in, and almost
Proclaim'd the Souldiers hate against me? is not
The sacred name and dignity of Cæsar
(Were this Æcius more than man) sufficient
To shake off all his honesty? He's dangerous
Though he be good, and though a friend, a fear'd one,
And such I must not sleep by: are they come yet?
I do believe this fellow, and I thank him;
'Twas time to look about, if I must perish,
Yet shall my fears go formost.
Enter Phidias, and Aretus.
Phi. Life to Cæsar.
Emp. Is Lord Æcius waiting?
Phi. Not this morning,
I rather think he's with the Army.
Emp. Army?
I do not like that Army: go unto him,
And bid him straight attend me, and do ye hear,
Come private without any; I have business
Only for him.
Phi. Your Graces pleasure— [Exit Phidias.