1 Within. 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.
Enter Phidias, and Aretus.
Phi. O my most noble Lord, look here Aretus,
Here's a sad sight.
Aret. O cruelty! O Cæsar!
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 when Tiberius and wild Nero reign'd,
Only assurance of his over throw?
Phi[d]. It is Aretus: he that would live now,
Must like the Toad, feed only on corruptions,
And grow with those to greatness: honest vertue,
And the true Roman honour, faith and valour
That 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—
Enter Maximus.
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 a Roman, thou art perish'd,
Faith, fortitude, and constant nobleness,
Weep Rome, weep Italy, weep all that knew him,
And you that fear'd him as a noble Foe,
(If Enemies have honourable tears)
Weep this decay'd Æcius faln, and scattered—
By foul, and base suggestion.
Ph. O Lord Maximus,
This was your worthy friend.