Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.
Enter Maximinian, (solus.)
Max. What powerful Star shin'd at this mans Nativity?
And bless'd his homely Cradle with full glory?
What throngs of people press and buz about him,
And with their humming flatteries sing him Cæsar?
Sing him aloud, and grow hoarse with saluting him?
How the fierce-minded Souldier steals in to him,
Adores and courts his honour? at his devotion
Their lives, their vertues, and their fortunes laying?
Charinus sues, the Emperour intreats him,
And as a brighter flame, takes his beams from him.
The bless'd and bright Aurelia, she doats on him,
And, as the god of Love, burns incense to him.
All eyes live on him. Yet I am still Maximinian,
Still the same poor and wretched thing, his servant.
What have I got by this? where lies my glory?
How am I rais'd and honour'd? I have gone as far
To woo this purblind honour, and have pass'd
As many dangerous Expeditions,
As noble, and as high; nay, in his destinie
(Whilst 'twas unknown) have run as many hazards,
And done as much; sweat thorow as many perils;
Only the Hang-man of Volutius Aper
(Which I mistook) has made him Emperour,
And me his slave.
Enter Delphia, and Drusilla.
Del. Stand still; he cannot see us,
Till I please: mark him well, this discontentment
I have forc'd into him, for thy cause, Drusilla.
Max. Can the gods see this;
See it with justice, and confer their blessings
On him, that never flung one grain of incense
Upon their Altars? never bow'd his knee yet;
And I that have march'd foot by foot, struck equally,
And whilst he was a gleaning, have been praying,
Contemning his base covetous—
Del. Now we'll be open.
Max. Bless me, and with all reverence.
Del. Stand up, Son,
And wonder not at thy ungratefull Uncle:
I know thy thoughts, and I appear to ease 'em.
Max. O Mother, did I stand the tenth part to ye
Engag'd and fetter'd, as mine Uncle does,
How would I serve, how would I fall before ye!
The poorer powers we worship.