Scene 1.3

A

Who is there?

V

It is I.

A

Aurelia?

V

Yes.

A

Appeare,

And breake, like day, my beauty, to this circle: Upbraid shy Pho ebus, that he is so long In mounting to that point, which should give thee Thy proper splendour. Wherefore frownes my sweet?

Have I too long bene absent from these lips, This cheeke, these eyes? what is my trepasse? Speake.

V

It seemes, you know, that can accuse your selfe.

A

I will redeeme it.

V

Still, you say so. When?

A

When Orestilla by her bearing well These my retirements, and stolne times for thought Shall give their effects leaue to call her Queene Of all the world, in place of humbled Rome.

V

You court me, now.

A

As I would alwaies, Loue,

By this Ambrosiacke kisse, and this of Nectar, Wouldst thou but heare as gladly, as I speake.

Could my Aurelia think, I meant her lesse; When, wooing her, I first remou'd a Wife, And then a Sonne, to make my bed, and house Spatious, and fit to embrace her? These were deeds Not to have begunne with, but to end with more, And greater: ``He that, building, stayes at onè`Floore, or the second, hath erected none.

It was how to raise thee, I was meditating; To make some act of mine answere thy loue: That loue, that, when my state was now quite sunke, Came with thy wealth, and weighd it up againe, And made my 'emergent Fortune once more looke Aboue the maine; which, now, shall hit the starres, And sticke my Orestilla, there, amongst them, If any tempest can but make the billow, And any billow can but lift her greatnesse.

But, I must pray my loue, she will put on Like habites with my selfe. I have to do With many men, and many natures. Some, That must be blowne, and sooth'd; as Lentulus, Whom I have heau'd, with magnifying his bloud, And a vaine dreame, out of the Sybill's bookes, That a third man of that great family Whereof he is descended, the Cornelij, Should be a King in Rome: which I have hir'd The flatt'ring Augures to interpret him, Cinna, and Sylla dead. Then, bold Cethegus, Whose valour I have turn'd into his poyson, And prais'd so into daring, as he would Goe on upon the Gods, kisse lightning, wrest The engine from the Cyclop's, and give fire At face of a full cloud, and stand his ire, When I would bid him moue. Others there are Whom enuie to the state drawes, and puts on, For contumelies receiu'd, (and such are sure ones) As Curius, and the fore-nam'd Lentulus, Both which have beene degraded, in the Senate,

And must have their disgraces, still, new rub'd, To make them smart, and labour of reuenge.

Others, whom meete ambition fires, and dole Of Prouinces abroade, which they have faind To their crude hopes, and I as amply promis'd: These, Lecca Vargunteius, Bestia, Autronius, Some, whom their wants oppresse, as the idle Captaines Of Sylla's troopes; and diuers Roman Knights (The profuse wasters of their patrimonies) So threatned with debts, as they will, now, Runne any desperate fortune, for a change.

These, for a time, we must relieue, Aurelia, And make our house their saue-gard. Like, for those, That feare the law, or stand within her gripe, For any act past, or to come. Such will From their owne crimes, be factious, as from ours.

Some more there be slight Ayrelings, will be wonne, With dogs, and horses; or, perhaps, a whore; Which must be had: And, if they venter liues, For us, Aurelia, we must hazard honors A little. Get thee store, and change of women, As I have boyes; and give them time, and place, And all conniuence: Be thy selfe, too, courtly; And entertaine, and feast, sit up, and reuell; Call all the great, the fayre, and spirited Dames Of Rome about thee, and beginne a fashion Of freedome, and community. Some will thanke thee, Though the sowre Senate frowne, whose heads must ake In feare, and feeling too. We must not spare Or cost, or modestie. It can but shew Like one of Iuno's, or of Ioue's disguises In eyther thee, or me; and will as soone, When things succeed, be throwne by, or let fall; As if a vaile put of, a visor chang'd, Or the Scene shifted, in our Theaters.

Who is that? It is the voyce of Lentulus.

V

Or of Cethegus.

A

In, my faire Aurelia,

And think upon these artes: They must not see, How farre you are trusted with these priuacies; Though, by their shoulders, necks, and heads you rise.