Figure 6. Lucina’s Rape Or The Tragedy of Vallentinian, British Library Add. MS 28692 (title-page)

Lucina’s Rape Or The Tragedy of Vallentinian

The source for Rochester’s play is the 1647 folio text of Fletcher’s revenge drama The Tragedie of Valentinian (probably written in 1613 or 1614),¹ and his reworking of it survives in two different versions. The earlier and fuller version, entitled Lucina’s Rape Or The Tragedy of Vallentinian, is found in three contemporary manuscripts, each of which appears to be derived from the same manuscript original. The second version, in the quarto edition dated 1685 which marks its ﬁrst appearance in print, bears the title Valentinian: A Tragedy. As ’tis Alter’d by the late Earl of Rochester, And Acted at the Theatre-Royal. Together with a Preface concerning the Author and his Writings. By one of his Friends. This text was taken from a prompt copy of Lucina’s Rape, and reveals that Rochester’s reworking itself had been further ‘Alter’d’ to the extent of having four scenes reordered and 86 lines removed.²

What obviously appealed to Rochester was the basis for a satiric portrait of Charles II provided by Fletcher’s portrayal of a Roman emperor as a lustful monster. Rochester’s relationship with the King seems always to have been fragile, with the poet veering between seeing him as a father ﬁgure to respect and a fallen human being to despise; there is, however, a consistency in his criticism of Charles for being too much inﬂuenced by his mistresses, memorably expressed in his couplet ‘His Scepter, and’s Pricke are boeth of one Length, | And she may sway the one, who plays with th’other’ (‘In the Isle of Brittain’, lines 11–12). Strong motives for an implicit attack on the King can be seen to exist both in the contemporary political situation and in Rochester’s friendship with the Duke of Buckingham. When, early in 1674, Buckingham was dismissed by the King from most of his posts, he naturally gravitated to a group implicitly opposed to the Crown, and by 1675 he had joined the Marquis of Halifax and the Earl of Shaftesbury as the leaders of this opposition to the King’s policies. At the same time there was a bi-polar grouping of literary taste which comprised, around Rochester, wits and poets such as Buckingham, Dorset and Sedley, and around Dryden, the Earl of Mulgrave and Sir Carr Scroope, which broadly reﬂected the nascent political grouping. In his choice of Valentinian, and his care to portray aspects of Charles II within Valentinian, Rochester thus allied himself with Buckingham’s political position while at the same time paying the duke a literary compliment (Buckingham’s adaptation of Fletcher’s The Chances had been performed by the King’s Company in 1667).

The historical Valentinian III reigned ineptly as Roman emperor from 425 CE to 455 CE during a major contraction of the empire, despite the military campaigns of his outstanding general Flavius Aëtius (Æcius in the play). In the third book of his History of the Wars, Procopius of Caesarea narrates how Valentinian used a ring he had obtained as a gambling pledge from the wealthy senator Petronius Maximus to draw his wife to court, where he then raped her. In order to revenge himself on the emperor, Maximus ﬁrst needed to dispose of the loyal Aëtius, which he achieved by causing the emperor to put Aëtius to death in 454 CE on suspicion of treason. Valentinian met his own death within a year, also at the instigation of Maximus, and was brieﬂy succeeded by him as emperor.

Lucina’s Rape has received little critical attention.³ The major cause of this can be traced to the assertion by Rochester’s friend Robert Wolseley that the play as printed forms only an incomplete, uncorrected work in progress with which Rochester himself had been dissatisﬁed. Wolseley emphasises in his preface to the quarto publication that the reader should ‘remember, that he looks upon an unﬁnish’d Piece’, for

my late Lord Rochester intended to have alter’d and corrected this Play much more than it is, before it had come abroad, and to have mended not only those Scenes of Fletcher which remain, but his own too, and the Model of the Plot itself. . . . (sig. A2^r, italics reversed)

Wolseley fosters further anxiety by inferring that the reader will ﬁnd it impossible to distinguish Rochester’s writing from that of Fletcher:

my Lord in the suiting of his Style to that of Fletcher, (which he here seems to have endeavour’d, that the Play might look more of a Piece) cannot with any justice be den’d the Glory of having reach’d his most admir’d Heights, and to have match’d him in his Fancy, which was his chief Excellence. (sig. A2^v)

In terms of the play being ‘an unﬁnish’d Piece’, ‘Whatever Rochester’s subsequent thoughts, there is no indication in the manuscripts that L[ucina’s] R[ape] was not regarded as a ﬁnished work at the time of its completion and scribal publication’ (Love, p. 621). All the evidence concerning Rochester’s habits suggests that he released his poems only when he was satisﬁed with them, even in the case of ‘To A Lady, in A Letter’, which exists in three versions. And secondly, any fear that Lucina’s Rape might be merely pastiche ‘Fletcher’, as opposed to a work that displays Rochester’s creative genius, is more apparent than real. As even the limited attention given to the play (based mainly on the quarto text) makes abundantly clear, Rochester’s originality extends well beyond straightforward imitation and replication. Much of the focus hitherto has concentrated either on the structural changes Rochester made to The Tragedie of Valentinian or on his satire of Charles II in the portrait of Valentinian.⁴ Wolseley himself praised Rochester for enhancing the ‘Unity of Action, and . . . the whole conduct of the Plot’ (sig. A2^v), a view echoed by all modern critics, none more generously than Wilson, who adjudged the changes to have resulted in ‘a play which, it must be admitted, is better than the original, a statement which can be made about very few Restoration adaptations of older dramas’.⁵ And although Rochester retains the chilling exchange that immediately follows Valentinian’s rape of Lucina –

Emp: Your only virtue now is Patience.
Bee wise and save your Honour, if you talk –

Lucina: As long as there is life in this Body
And breath to give me words I’le cry for Justice.

Emp: Justice will never hear you, I am Justice.

(IV.iv.1–5)

– the Emperor he portrays, torn between desire and responsibility, is more credibly human than Fletcher’s tyrant. Rochester’s Valentinian may indeed be an ‘Abandoned voluptary, ignoring imperial responsibilities for sexual dalliance’,⁶ but he is also endowed with a ‘Gentle temper which inclines | His minde to softness’ (I.i.90–1), and his grief at the death of his lover Lycias (V.v.57–69) reveals an authentic tenderness. The hints that the action in the play is taking place at Whitehall (and the rape in Rochester’s own quarters there!), the addition of genuine pathos (pace Sprague) to the characterisation of Lucina, and the surprisingly subdued ending to the play reveal a dramatic ﬂuency that is independent of Fletcher. That skill is evidenced in Rochester’s reversal of the order of Fletcher’s ﬁrst three scenes, which brings the man who will be wronged, Maximus, into immediate focus, and in the pruning of much of Fletcher’s dramatic excess to make the play a much more interesting spectacle, as Larry Carver helpfully summarises:

By eliminating act V of the original; cutting three scenes, III,ii and iii, and IV,ii; adding two of his own, V[i] and v; adding 245 lines to I,i, 75 lines to II,i, 77 lines to III,ii, and 219 lines [to] III,iii, and by substantially rewriting IV,i and ii and V,ii, Rochester moved Fletcher’s Jacobean melange of rant, poisonings and rape in the direction of neoclassical unity. He sought to unify the plot further by cutting the role of Eudoxia, the Emperor’s wife, the parts of Afranius, Paulus, and Licippus, and the tangentially related machinations of these three. With an eye to satire, Rochester enhanced the part of the eunuch, Lycias, and emphasized the seamy side of court intrigue. In addition, he gave Valentinian and Maximus considerable psychological depth. Maximus is no longer a ﬂat Machiavellian villain, but a patriot tormented by conﬂicting loyalties and metaphysical questions. Evidently meant to be a satirical portrait of Charles II, Valentinian becomes a complex study of duty at war with lust.⁷

Rochester’s ﬂair leaps off the pages. Whether he is merely correcting obvious misprints in the printed folio text, or smoothing the metre, or changing a single word by Fletcher, his sensitivity to both words and dramatic opportunities is remarkable. The revisions Rochester made to The Tragedie of Valentinian also include the addition of over 1,300 lines of poetry (the equivalent of ﬁve poems each of the length of A Letter from Artemiza in the Towne to Chloe in the Countrey), and in no scene are his skills more effectively combined than in Act III, scene iii. Here Rochester recomposes with considerable freedom and originality Fletcher’s II.ii: the same four characters are deployed and the action continues to fall into two sections, but only the ﬁrst four lines of the original are retained (subtly adjusted) and the 73 lines of Fletcher’s scene are tripled to 223 lines. What results is a witty and entertaining exchange between two women who purport to occupy contrasting positions on the scale of female virtue, followed by Lucina’s powerful account of the nightmare from which she has just awoken. Rochester not only includes references to the Book of Common Prayer and the poetry of Abraham Cowley, but also raises the same concerns with right reason, natural instinct, honour and affected rules of behaviour that surface elsewhere in his lyrics, his letters and above all in A Satyre against Reason and ankind. Closer examination of the other 1,000 or so original lines by Rochester allows further appreciation of the uniqueness of his poetic voice.

Staging

The ﬁrst recorded performance of the play, under the name Valentinian, took place at the Hall Theatre within Whitehall Palace on 11 February 1684, nearly four years after Rochester’s death, but it is likely the United Company gave a performance or series of performances a few weeks earlier in the public theatre in Drury Lane (as indicated on the title-page of the quarto printing). The three manuscript copies, however, contain casting details that imply actual or intended performance during Rochester’s lifetime, most likely during 1675–6, when Rochester’s drunken involvement in the destruction of the King’s costly chronometer in the Privy Garden at Whitehall in June 1675 had led to an extended period away from Court during which he would have had the leisure to write a play. With records existing for between just 7 per cent and 13 per cent of all theatrical performances during the later seventeenth century, the lack of documentary evidence (as is the case with the ﬁrst public performances of Valentinian) does not rule out the possibility of lifetime performance of Lucina’s Rape.

Two factors support the probability that the play was performed during Rochester’s lifetime: ﬁrst, he permitted his work to go to a professional scribe for copying (a necessary step on the way to having the play performed) and, second, it is likely that only in the light of stage performance would Rochester have recognised the need for the play to be ‘alter’d and corrected’ even into the allegedly imperfect form in which it was printed.⁸ The series of alterations to Lucina’s Rape made after Rochester’s death for the public performances in 1683 or 1684, which extend to cutting lines and changing the order of scenes, are redolent of the ‘considerable amount of revising and ﬁxing [that normally] must have gone on during rehearsals and occasionally afterwards’.⁹ Rochester would have had the opportunity to observe such a process at ﬁrst hand (in fact he probably would have been hard pressed to avoid being a witness) during the ‘innumerable Rehearsals’ of John Crowne’s court masque Calisto that took place in the Hall Theatre between September 1674 and its première on 15 or 16 February 1675.¹⁰ The planned improvements to which Wolseley alludes, however, amount to a major revision that makes most sense by being understood as forming a response to a combination of director, player and audience reaction to a staged performance.

Copy-text

The version of Lucina’s Rape used for this edition is the British Library copy; at one time it was in the hands of Rochester’s mother, who added a missing word to I.i.166 and to V.iv.37. The manuscript closely reﬂects Rochester’s habit of only minimally punctuating his work, relying on the line-break to convey a pause (unless the sense makes this inappropriate). To simply reprint the text would leave the modern reader with difﬁculties of comprehension, and highlighting the additional punctuation would have proved unnecessarily distracting, so the text here has been silently, and lightly, re-punctuated. Consideration was given to presenting Rochester’s text in parallel with Fletcher’s, but while ideal perhaps, this would have been cumbersome, unwieldy, and probably of limited interest to most readers. The decision has been made, therefore, to emphasise Rochester’s poetic, rather than his editorial, skill, so the play itself is presented here in such a way as to make Rochester’s revisions to Fletcher’s lines, or his addition of new lines, readily apparent: Rochester’s contributions are presented in bold type, and Fletcher’s original words are in normal type; ampersands have been silently expanded, together with ~m(mm), S^r (Sir), w^ch (which), w^th (with), y^e (the), y^u (thou) and y^t (that), but insigniﬁcant spelling differences have not been noted. For this reason, Rochester’s omissions have not been incorporated in footnotes, but readers for whom it is important to know what Rochester excluded from Lucina’s Rape are referred to either Love’s edition or the modern edition of Fletcher’s The Tragedie of Valentinian, edited by Robert K. Turner under the general editorship of Fredson Bowers. In the notes, ‘47’ refers to the 1647 folio text of Fletcher’s play and for ease of reference, the practice in the text of marking Rochester’s re-working in bold type, is not replicated.

Lucina’s Rape Or The Tragedy of Vallentinian

Vallentinian	Emperour	Mr Hart
Æcius	the Roman Generall	Mr Moon
Maximus	Lieutenant Generall	Mr Wintershell
Pontius	a Captain	Mr Liddle
Licinius )
Balbus )	Servants to the Emperour
Proculus )
Chylax	Mr Cartwright
Lycias	an Eunuch belonging to Maximus	Mr Clarke
Lucina	Wife to Maximus	Mrs Marshall
Claudia )		Mrs Cox
Marcelina )	Ladies attending Lucina	Mrs Boutall
Ardelia )		Mrs Core
Phorba )	Lewd women belonging to the Court	Mrs Knept
Phidias )
Aretus )	friends to Æcius and servants to the Emperour

[I.i] Act the First Scæn the First

The Curtaine ﬂyes up with the Musick of Trumpets and Kettles-Drums and discovers the Emperour passing through to the garden attended with A great Court. Æcius and Maximus stay behinde.

Maximus—Æcius

Max: Great is the honour which our Emperour
Do’s by his frequent visitts throw on Maximus;
Not less than thrice this week has his gay Court
With all its splender shin’d within my Walls.
Nor do’s this glorious sun bestow his beames		5
Upon a barren soyle —my happy Wife
Fruitfull in Charmes for Vallentinians heart
Crownes the soft moments of each welcome hour
With such variety of successive joyes
That lost in Love when the long day is done		10
Hee willingly would give his Empire up
For the injoyment of a minute more;
While I
Made glorious through the merit of my Wife
Am at the Court ador’d as much as Shee		15
As if the vast dominion of his world
Hee had exchang’d with mee for my Lucina.
Æcius: I rather wish hee would exchange his Passions
Give you his thirst of Love for yours of Honour
And leaving you the due possession		20
Of your just wishes in Lucina’s armes.
Thinke how hee may by force of worth and virtue
Maintaine the right of his imperiall Crowne
Which he neglects for Garlands made of Roses
Whilst in disdeigne of his ill guided youth		25
Whole Provinces fall off and scorne to have
Him for their Prince who is his Pleasures Slave.
Max: I cannot blame the Nations Noble Friend
For falling off soe fast from this wilde Man
When, under our allegeance bee it spoken		30
And the most happy tye of our affections
The whole World groans beneath him: by the Gods
I’de rather bee a bond-slave to his Panders,
Constrain’d by power to serve their vicious Wills,
Than beare the infamy of being held		35
A favourite to this fowle ﬂatter’d Tyrant.
Where lives virtue,
Honour, discretion, wisdome? who are call’d
And chosen to the steering of his Empire
But Traytors, Bawds, and Wenches? oh my Æcius		40
The glory of a Souldier and the Truth
Of men made up for goodness sake° like shells	i.e., to obtain goodness
Grow to the ragged walls for want of action:
Only your happy self and I that Love you,
Which is a Larger means to mee than favour.		45
Æci: Noe more my worthy friend though these be truths
And though these truths would ask a reformation —
At least a little mending — Yet remember
Wee are but subjects Maximus, obedience
To what is done and griefe for what’s ill done		50
Is all wee call ours; the hearts of Princes
Are like the Temples of the Gods; pure incense
Untill unhallowed hands deﬁle their offerings
Burns ever there. Wee must not put ’em out
Because the priests who touch those sweets are wicked;		55
Wee dare not dearest friend nay more we cannot
While wee consider whose wee are, and how,
To what Laws bound, much more to what Lawgiver
Whilst majesty is made to bee obey’d
And not enquir’d into whilst Gods and Angells		60
Make but a Rule as wee doe though strickter;
Like desperate and unseason’d fools let ﬂy
Our killing angers, and forsake our honours.
Max: Thou best of friends and men, whose wise instructions
Are not less charitable weigh but thus much		65
Nor think I speake it with Ambition
For by the Gods I doe not, why my Æcius
Why are wee thus? or how become thus wretched?
Æcius: You’l fall againe into your ﬁtt—
Max: I will not—
Or are we now noe more the Sonnes of Romans?		70
Noe more the fellows of their mighty fortunes?
But conquer’d gauls? and quivers for the Parthians?
Why is this Emperour, this man wee honour,
This God that ought to bee—
Æcius: You are too curious.
Max: Good give me leave; why is this Author of us—		75
Æcius: I dare not heare you speake thus.
Max: I’le bee modest
Thus led away; thus vainly led away
And wee beholders? misconceive mee not
I soe noe danger in my words, but wherefore
And to what End are wee the sonnes of Fathers		80
Famous and fast to Rome? why are their vertues
Stampt in the dangers of a thousand Battails
For goodness sake° their honours time out daring	i.e., to obtain goodness
I thinke for our Example?
Æcius: You speake well.
Max: Why are wee seeds of those then to shake hands		85
With Bawds and base informers? Kiss discredit
And court her like a Mistress? pray your leave yet—
You’l say the Emperour’s young and apt to take
Impression from his pleasures,
Yet even his errours have their good effects		90
For the same Gentle temper which inclines
His minde to softness do’s his heart defend
From savage thought of Cruelty and Blood
Which through the Streets of Rome in streams did ﬂow
From hearts of Senators under the Reignes		95
Of our severer, warlike Emperours.
Whilst under this, scarcely a Criminall
Meets the hard sentence of the dooming Law
And the whole World dissolv’d into a peace
Owes its security to this mans pleasures.		100
But Æcius be sincere, doe not defend
Actions and principles your Soule abhor’s
You know this Vertue is his greatest Vice
Impunity is the highest Tyranny
And what the fawning Court miscalls his pleasure		105
Exceeds the moderation of a man;
Nay to say justly friend they are loath’d vices
And such as shake our worths with Forreign Nations.
Æcius: You search the sore too deep, and let mee tell yee
In any other man this had been Treason		110
And so rewarded; pray depress your Spirit
For though I constantly believe yee honest
Yee were noe friend for mee else, and what now
Yee freely speake, but good yee owe to the Empire;
Yet take heed worthy Maximus all eares		115
Heare not with that distinction mine doe, few you’l ﬁnde
Admonishers but urgers of your Actions
And to the heaviest (friend); and pray consider
Wee are but shaddows, motions others give us,
And though our pittys may become the times		120
Our powers cannot, nor may wee justify
Our private jealousies by open force
Wife or what else to mee it matters not.
I am your friend, but durst mine own Soule urge mee
And by that Soule I speake my just affections		125
To turn my hand from truth which is Obedience
And give the Helme my virtue holds to anger,
Though I had both the Blessing of the Brutii
And both their instigations, though my cause
Carry’d a face of justice beyond theirs		130
And as I am a servant to my fortunes,
That daring Soule that ﬁrst taught disobedience
Should feel the ﬁrst Example.
Max: Mistake mee not dearest Æcius:
Doe not believe that through meane jealousy		135
How far the Emperours passion may prevaile
On my Lucina’s thoughts to our dishonour
That I abhorre the person of my Prince:
Alas! That honour were a triviall loss
Which she and I want merrit to preserve.		140
Vertue and Maximus are plac’d too neare
Lucina’s heart to leave him such a feare,
Noe private loss, or wrong, inﬂames my spirits.
The Roman glory Æcius languishes,
I am concern’d for Rome, and for the World,		145
And when the Emperour pleases to afford
Time from his pleasures to take care of those,
I am his Slave, and have a sword, and Life
Still ready for his Service;
Æci: Now yee are brave
And like a Roman justly are concern’d.		150
But say hee bee to blame are therefore wee
Fit ﬁres to purge him? noe my dearest friend,
The Elaphant is never wonne with anger
Nor must that man who would reclaime a Lyon
Take him by the teeth.		155
Our honest actions and the truth that breaks
Like morning from our services, chaste and blushing
Is that, that pulls a Prince back, then hee see’s
And not till then, truly repents his errours.
Max: My heart agrees with yours, I’le take your Councell.		160
The Emperour appears, let us withdraw
And as wee both doe Love him may hee ﬂourish.	Exeunt
Vallentinian, Lucina

Vall: Which way Lucina hope yee to escape
The Censure both of Tyrannous and Proud
While your admirers languish by your Eyes		165
And at your feet the Emperour dispairs?
Gods! why was I markt out of all your Brood
To suffer tamely under mortall Hate?
Is it not I that do protect your shrines?
Am author of your Sacriﬁce and prayers?		170
Forc’t by whose great commands, the knowing World
Submits to owne your beings and your power
And must I feele the torments of neglect
Betrayd by Love to be the Slave of scorne?
But tis not you poore harmless Deitys		175
That can make Vallentinian sigh and mourne;
Alas all power is in Lucina’s Eyes.
How soone could I shake off this heavy Earth
Which makes mee little lower than your selves
And sitt in heav’n an equall with the ﬁrst,		180
But Love bids mee pursue a Nobler Aime
Continue mortall and Lucina’s Slave;
From whose faire Eyes would pitty take my part
And bend her Will to save a Bleeding heart
I in her armes such blessings should obtaine		185
For which the unenvy’d Gods might wish in vaine.
Luci: Ah cease to tempt those Gods and Vertue too
Great Emperour of the World and Lord of mee.
Heav’n has my Life submitted to your Will
My honours Heav’ns which will preserve its owne;		190
How vile a thing am I when that is gone!
When of my honour you have riﬂd mee
What other merrit have I to bee yours?
With my faire Fame let mee your subject live
And save that humbleness you smile upon;		195
Those gracious looks whose brightness shou’d rejoyce
Make your poore handmaid tremble when shee thinkes
That they appeare like lightnings fatall ﬂash
Which by destructive thunder is pursu’d
Blasting those ﬁelds on which it shin’d before.		200
And should the Gods abandon worthless mee
A Sacriﬁce to shame, and to dishonour,
A plague to Roome, and Blott to Cesars fame,
For what crime yet unknowne shall Maximus
By mee and Cesar, bee made infamous?		205
The faithfull’st Servant and the kindest Lord,
Soe true, Soe brave, Soe generous and soe just,
Who nere knew fault, why shou’d hee fall to shame?
Vall: Sweet Innocence, alas your Maximus
(Whome I like you esteeme) is in noe danger		210
If duty and allegeance bee noe shame;
Have I not Pretors through the spacious Earth
Who in my name doe mighty Nations sway,
Injoying rich Dominions in my right
Their temporary Governments I change,		215
Divide or take away as I see good
And this they think noe injury nor shame.
Can you believe your husbands right to you
Other than what from mee hee does derive
Who justly may recall my owne at pleasure?		220
Am I not Emperour? this World my owne?
Giv’n mee without a partner by the Gods,
Each man, each Beast, even to the smallest ﬂy
Noe mortall Creature dare call his—but I
And shall those gods who gave mee all allow		225
That one less than my selfe should have a Claime
To you the Pride and Glory of the whole?
You without whome the rest is worthless dross
Life a base Slavery, Empire but a mock
And Love the Soule, of all a bitter curse?		230
Noe (onely blessing) Maximus and I
Must change our Provinces, the World shall bow
Beneath the Scepter, grasp’d in this strong Hand
Whose valour may reduce Rebellious Slaves
And wise integrity secure the rest		235
In all those rights the Gods through mee have given
While I from tedious toyls of Empire free
The servile pride of Government despise
Finde Peace, and Joy, and Love, and Heav’n in thee
And seek for all my Glory in those Eyes.		240
Luci: Had Heav’n design’d for mee so great a fate
As Cesars Love I shoud have bin preserv’d
By carefull providence for him alone
Not offer’d up at ﬁrst to Maximus,
For princes shoud not mingle with their Slaves		245
Nor seek to quench their thirst in troubled streams;
Nor am I fram’d with thoughts ﬁt for a Throne,
To be commanded still has been my Joy
And to obey the height of my Ambition.
When young, in anxious cares I spent the day		250
Trembling for feare lest each unguided step
Should tread the paths of errours and of blame
Till Heav’n in gentle pitty sent my Lord
In whose commands my wishes meet their end.
Pleas’d and secure whilst following his Will		255
Whether to Live or Die I cannot erre;
You like the sun great Sir are plac’d above,
I a low Myrtle in the humble Vale
May ﬂourish by your distant inﬂuence
But shoud you bend your Gloryes nearer mee		260
Such Fatall favour withers mee to dust,
Or I° in foolish gratitude desire		i.e., Or if I
To kiss your feet by whome wee live and grow
To such a height I should in vaine aspire
Who am already rooted here below;		265
Fix’d in my Maximus’es breast I lye
Torne from that bed like gatherd ﬂowers I die.
Vall: Cease to oppress mee with a thousand charmes
There need noe succors to prevailing armes.
Your beauty had subdu’d my heart before,		270
Such vertue could alone enslave mee more.
If you Love Maximus to this degree
How would you bee in Love did you Love mee?
In her who to a husband is soe kinde
What Raptures might a Lover looke to ﬁnde?		275
I burn Lucina like a ﬁeld of corne
By ﬂowing streames of kindled ﬂames ore borne
When north winds drive the torrent with a storme;
These ﬁres into my Bosome you have throwne
And must in pitty quench em in your owne.		280
Heav’n when it gave your Eyes the inﬂaming power
Which was ordain’d to cast an Emperour
Into Loves Fever, kindly did impart
That Sea of milk to bathe his burning heart
Through all those joyes—	(lays hold on her.
Luci: Hold Sir for mercys sake		285
Love will abhor whatever force can take.
I may perhaps perswade my selfe in time
That this is duty which now seemes a Crime;
I’le to the Gods and beg they will inspire
My brest or yours with what it shoud desire.		290
Vall: Fly to their Altars straight, and let em know
Now is their time to make mee friend or foe,
If to my wishes they your heart incline
Or they’re noe longer favourites of mine.	Exit Lucina
None in my world shall dare to owne a Power		295
That cant or will not help their Emperour.
Incense noe longer to those Gods shall burne
Unless they strive to serve mee in their turne.
Ho! Chylax, Proculus!
Enter Chylax, Proculus and Balbus
As ever you doe hope to bee by mee		300
Protected in your boundless infamy
For dissoluteness cherish’t, Lov’d and prais’d
On Piramids of your owne vices rais’d
Above the reach of Law, reproofe, or shame
Assist mee now to quench my raging ﬂame.		305
Tis not as heretofore a Lambent ﬁre
Rais’d by some common Beauty in my brest,
Vapours from idleness, and loose desire
By each new motion Easily supprest,
But a ﬁxt heat that robs mee of all rest;		310
Before my dazl’d Eyes coud you now place
A thousand willing Beautyes to allure
And give mee lust for every loose embrace
Lucina’s Love my vertue would secure;
From the contagious charme in vaine I’d ﬂy,		315
That seiz’d upon my heart and may defye
That great preservative Variety;
Goe call your wives to councell and prepare
To tempt, dissemble, promise, fawne and Sweare
To make Faith looke like folly use your skill,		320
Vertue an ill bred crossness in the Will,
Fame the loose breathings of a clamorous crow’d
Ever in lies most conﬁdent and lowd,
Honour a notion, Piety a Cheate.
And if yee prove successful Bawds bee great.		325
Chy: All hindrance to your hopes wee’ll soon remove
And cleare the way to your triumphant Love.
Bal: Lucina for your wishes wee’ll prepare
And shew wee know to meritt what wee are— Exeunt
Vall: Once more the power of vows and teares I’le prove,		330
These may perhaps her gentle nature move
To pitty ﬁrst, by consequence to Love.
Poore are the Brutall conquests wee obtaine
O’re Barb’rous Nations by the force of armes
But when with humble Love a heart wee gaine		335
And plant our Trophyes on our conquerours Charmes
Enter Æcius
Such Triumphs ev’n to us may Honour bring;
Noe glories vaine which do’s from pleasure spring.
How now Æcius are the Souldiers quiet?
Æci: Better I hope Sir than they were.		340
Vall: They’re pleas’d I heare
To censure mee extreamly for my pleasures,
Shortly they’le ﬁght against mee.
Æci: Gods defend Sir, and for their censures they are
Such Shrewd Judges
A donative of ten sextersies		345
I’le undertake shall make ’em ring your praise
More than they sung your pleasures.
Emp: I believe thee.
Art thou in Love Æcius yet?
Æcius: O noe Sir, I am too course for Ladyes, my embraces
That only am acquainted with alarms		350
Would breake their tender bodies.
Emp: Never feare it,
They are stronger then yee thinke.
The Empress swears thou art a lusty Souldier,
A good one I believe thee.
Æcius: All that goodness
Is but your Creature Sir.
Emp: But tell mee truly,		355
For thou dar’st tell mee—
Æcius: Any thing concern’s yee
That’s ﬁtt for mee to speake or you to pardon.
Emp: What say the Souldiers of mee, and the same words
Mince ’em not good Æcius, but deliver
The very formes and tongues they talk withal.		360
Æcius: I’le tell you Sir but with this caution
You bee not Stirr’d, for should the Gods live with us,
Even those wee certainly believe are righteous,
Give em but drinke, they would censure them too.
Emp: Forward.
Æcius: Then to begin, they say you sleep too much		365
By which they judge you Sir too sensuall
Apt to decline your strength to ease and pleasures
And when you doe not sleep, you drink too much
From which they feare suspitions ﬁrst, then ruines,
And when you neither drink nor sleep—you guess Sir		370
Which they afﬁrme ﬁrst Breaks your understanding
Then dulls the edge of Honour, makes them seeme
That are the ribbs° and rampiers° of the Empire	fig. supports / ramparts
Fencers and beaten Fooles, and soe regarded:
But I believe them not, for were these Truths		375
Your vertue can correct them.
Emp: They speake plainly.
Æci: They say moreover Sir (since you will have it
For they will take their freedomes though the sword
Were in their throat) That of late time like Nero
And with the same forgetfullness of Glory.		380
You have got a veine of Fencing, soe they term it.
Emp: Some drunken dreamers Æcius.
Æci: Soe I hope Sir.
They say besides you nourish strange devourers
Fed with the fat of the Empire they call Bawds
Lazie and lustfull Creatures that abuse yee—		385
Emp: What Sin’s next, for I perceive they have noe
minde to spare mee?
Æci: Nor hurt you on my Soule, Sir, but such people
(Nor can the power of man restrain it)
When they are full of meat and ease must prate.		390
Emp: Forward.
Æci: I have spoken too much Sir.
Emp: I’le have all.
Æci: It is not ﬁt
Your eares shoud heare their vanities, no proﬁtt
Can justly arise to you from their behaviour,		395
Unless yee were guilty of these Crimes.
Emp: It may bee I am soe, therefore forward.
Æcius: I have ever learn’d to obey.
Emp: Noe more Apologies.
Æcius: They grieve besides Sir
To see the Nations whome our antient vertue		400
With many a weary march and hunger conquer’d,
With loss of many a daring life subdu’d,
Fall from their faire obedience and ev’n murmur
To see the warlike Eagles mew° their Honours		moult
In obscure Townes, that us’d to prey on Princes.		405
They cry for Enemies, and tell the Captain
The fruits of Italy are luscious, give us Egypt
Or Sandy Affrique to display our valours,
There where our Swords may get us meat, and dangers
Digest our well got food, for here our weapons		410
And Bodies that were made for shining Brasse
Are both unedg’d and old with Ease and Women.
And then they cry againe where are the Germans
Lin’d with hot Spaine or Gallia, bring ’em on
And let the son of Warre Steel’d Mithridates		415
Lead up his wing’d Parthians like a storme
Hiding the face of Heav’n with showers of Arrows,
Yet wee dare ﬁght like Romans; then as Souldiers
Tyr’d with a weary march they tell their wounds
Ev’n weeping ripe° they were noe more nor deeper,	i.e., ready to weep	420
And Glory in those scarres that make em lovely;
And sitting where a Campe was, like sad Pilgrims
They reckon up the times and loving labours
Of Julius or Germanicus and wonder
That Rome whose Turrets once were topt with Honours		425
Can now forget the custome of her Conquests;
And then they blame you Sir and say who leads us?
Shall wee stand here like Statues? were our Fathers
The sons of Lazie Moores, our Princes Persians
Nothing but silk and softnesse? Curses on ’em		430
That ﬁrst taught Nero wantonness and blood
Tyberius doubts, Caligula all vices,
For from the spring of these succeeding Princes—
Thus they talk Sir.
Emp: Well,		435
Why doe you heare these things?
Æcius: Why doe yee doe ’em?
I take the Gods to witness, with more sorrow
And more vexation heare I these Reproaches
Then were my Life dropt from mee through an hour-glass.
Emp: ’Tis like then you believe em or at least		440
Are Glad they should bee soe, Take heed you were better
Build your own Tomb and run into it Living
Than dare a Princes anger.
Æcius: I am old Sir
And ten yeares more Addition is but nothing.
Now if my Life bee pleasing to you, take it,		445
Upon my knees, if ever any Service
(As let mee brag some have been worthy notice)
If ever any worth or trust yee gave mee
Deserv’d a favour Sir, if all my Actions,
The hazzards of my youth, Colds, burnings, wants		450
For you and for the Empire bee not Vices,
By the stile° yee have stampt upon mee Souldier		title
Let mee not fall into the hands of Wretches.
Emp: I understand yee not.
Æci: Let not this Body
That has look’d bravely in his blood for Cesar		455
And covetous of wounds, and for your safety
After the scape of Swords, Speares, Slings, and Arrowes,
Gainst which my Beaten Body was mine Armour,
The Sea’s and thirsty Deserts, now bee purchase
For Slaves and base Informers: I see Anger		460
And Death looke through your Eyes—I am markt for
Slaughter and know the telling of this Truth has made mee
A man cleane lost to this World; I embrace it;
Only my last Petition Sacred Cesar,
Is I may die a Roman.
Emp: Rise my Friend still		465
And worthy of my Love. Reclaime the Souldiers;
I’le study to doe soe upon my selfe,
Goe keepe your command and prosper.
Æci: Life to Cesar.
Exit
Emp: The honesty of this Æcius
Who is indeed the Bull-worke of my Empire		470
Is to bee cherish’t for the good it brings
Not vallu’d as a merit in the owner,
As Princes are Slaves bound up by Gratitude
And duty has noe claime beyond acknowledgement
Which I’le pay Æcius whome I still have found		475
Dull, faithfull, humble, Violent, and Brave,
Talents as I could wish ’em for my Slave—
But oh this Woman!
Is it a Sin to Love this Lovely Woman?
Noe she is such a pleasure being good,		480
That though I were a God shee’d ﬁre my Blood.	Exit
Finis Act the 1^st

Figure 7. Lucina’s Rape Or The Tragedy of Vallentinian, British Library Add. MS 28692 (correction to I.i.166)

[II.i] Act the 2^d Scæ the First.
Enter Lucina, Ardelia and Phorba.

Ardelia: You still Insist upon that Idoll, Honour;
can it renew your youth, can it adde wealth,
That takes off wrinkles: can it draw mens eyes
To gaze upon you in your age? can Honour,
That truly is a saint to none but Souldiers,		5
And look’d into, beares noe reward but Danger,
Leave you the most respected Woman living?
Or can the common kisses of a Husband
(Which to a Sprightly Lady is a labour)
Make ye almost Immortall? Ye are cozen’d;		10
The Honour of a Woman is her Prayses,
The way to get these, to bee seen and sought too,
And not to bury such a happy Sweetnesse
Under a smoaky Roofe.
Luci: Ile heare noe more.
Phor: That white and Red and all that blessed beauty		15
Kept from the Eyes, that make it soe is nothing:
Then you are truely faire when men proclaime it.
The Phenix that was never seen is doubted
But when the Vertue’s known the Honor’s doubled,
Vertue is either lame or not at all,		20
And Love a Sacriledge and not a Saint,
When it barres up the way to mens petitions.
Ard: Nay yee shall love your husband too; wee
Come not to make a Monster of yee.
Luc: Are yee women?
Ard: Youl ﬁnd us soe and women you shall thank too,		25
If you have but grace to make your use.
Luci: Fye on yee.
Phorb: Alas poor bashfull Lady, by my Soule
Had yee noe other Vertue but your Blushes,
And I a man I should run mad for those:
How prettily they set her off, how sweetly!		30
Ard: Come Goddesse come you move too near the Earth,
It must not bee, a better Orbe stays for you.
Luc: Pray leave mee.
Phor: That were a Sin sweet Madam, and a way
To make us guilty of your Melancholly.		35
You must not bee alone; In Conversation
Doubts are resolv’d, and what sticks near the conscience
Made easy and allowable.
Luc: Yee are Devills—
Ard: That you may one day blesse for your damnation.
Luc: I charge yee in the name of chastity,		40
Tempt mee noe more; how ugly yee seeme to mee,
There is noe wonder men defame our Sex,
And lay the vices of all ages on us,
When such as you shall beare the name of women.
If yee had eyes to see your selves or Sence,		45
Above the base rewards yee earne with shame,
If ever in your lives ye heard of goodnesse,
Though many Regions off, as men heare Thunder,
If ever yee had Fathers and they Souls
Or ever Mothers and not such as you are,		50
If ever any thing were constant in you
Besides your Sinnes,
If any of your Ancesters
Dyed worth a Noble deed that would bee cherish’d
Soul-frighted with this black infection—
You would run from one another to Repentance		55
And from your guilty eyes drop out those Sins,
That made ye blinde and Beasts.
Phor: Ye speake well Madam,
A signe of fruitfull Education
If your Religious Zeale had wisdome with it.
Ard: This Lady was ordein’d to blesse the Empire		60
And wee may all give thanks fort.
Phor: I believe yee.
Ard: If any thing redeeme the Emperour
From his wild ﬂying Courses, this is shee!
Shee can instruct him if yee mark; she is wise too.
Phor: Exceeding Wise, which is a wonder in her		65
And soe religious, That I well believe,
Though shee would sin shee cannot.
Ard: And besides,
Shee has the Empires cause in hand, not Loves;
There lyes the maine consideration,
For which shee is chiefely borne.
Phor: Shee ﬁndes that point		70
Stronger than wee can tell her, and believe it
I looke by her means for a Reformation,
And such a one and such a rare way carried.
Ard: I never thought the Emperour had wisdome
Pitty or faire affection to his country,		75
Till hee profest this Love: Gods give em children
Such as her vertues merrit and his Zeale;
I look to see a Numa from this Lady,
Or greater than Octavius.
Phor: Doe you marke too,
Which is a noble vertue, how shee blushes,		80
And what a ﬂowing Modesty runnes through her
When wee but name the Emperour?
Ard: But marke it
Yes and admire it too, for shee considers
Though shee bee faire as Heaven and vertuous
As holy truth, yet to the Emperour		85
Shee is a kind of nothing, but her service;
Which shee is bound to offer and shee’l doe it,
And when her Countryes cause commands affection
Shee knows obedience is the key of vertues;
Then ﬂy the blushes out like Cupids Arrowes		90
And though the tye of Marriage to her Lord
Would faine cry stay Lucina, yet the cause
And generall wisdome of the Princes love
Makes her ﬁnd surer Ends and happier,
And if the ﬁrst were chaste this is twice doubled.		95
Phor: Her tartness unto us too.
Ard: Thats a wise one.
Phor: I rarely like, it shews a rising° wisdome		growing
That chides all common fooles as dare enquire
What Princes would have private.
Ard: What a Lady shall wee bee blest to serve!
Luci: Goe get yee from mee		100
Ye are your purses Agents, not the Princes:
Is this the vertuous Lore yee train’d° mee out too?		allured
Am I a woman ﬁtt to Impe° your vices?		engraft, implant
But that I had a Mother and a Woman
Whose everliving Fame turns all it touches		105
Into the good it selfe was I should now
Even doubt my selfe: I have been search’t soe neare
The very Soule of Honour: why should you two,
That happily° have been as chast as I am,		i.e., haply, perhaps, maybe
Fairer I thinke by much (for yet your faces,		110
Like Antient well built piles shew worthy ruines)
After that Angell age turne mortall Devills?
For shame, for woman-hood, for what ye have been,
(For rotten Cedars have born goodly branches;)
If ye have hope of any Heav’n but Court,		115
Which like a dreame youl ﬁnde hereafter vanish
Or at the best but subject to Repentance,
Study noe more to bee ill spoken of;
Let women live themselves, if they must faile,
Their owne distruction ﬁnde em.		120
Ard: Madam you are soe Excellent in all
That I must tell it you with admiration,
Soe true a Joy ye have, soe sweet a Feare
And when yee come to anger, ’tis soe noble
That for my owne part I could still offend,		125
To heare you angry: women that want that
And your way guided (else I count it nothing)
Are either fooles or Fearfull.
Phor: Shee were noe Mistrisse for the worlds great monarke
Could shee not frowne a ravisht kisse from anger		130
And such an anger as this Lady shewes us,
Stuck with such pleasing dangers, (Gods I ask yee)
Which of you all could hold from?
Luc: I perceive ye—
Your owne darke sinnes dwell with yee and that price
You sell the chastity of modest wives at		135
Runs to diseases with you, I despise ye,
And all the netts yee have pitcht to catch my vertues
Like spiders webs I sweep away before mee,
Goe tell the Emperour, yee have met a woman
That neither his owne person which is Godlike,		140
The world hee rules nor what that world can purchase
Nor all the Glories subject to a Cæsar,
The honours that hee offers for my Honour
The hopes, gifts, and everlasting Flatteries,
Nor any thing that’s his, and apt to tempt		145
Noe not to bee the Mother of the Empire
And Queen of all the Holy ﬁres hee worships
Can make a whore of.
Ard: You mistake us Madam.
Luc: Yet tell him this has thus much weakend me
That I have herd his slaves and you his Matrons		150
Fit Nurses for his Sins, which Gods forgive mee,
But ever to bee leaning to his folly,
Or to bee brought to love his vice assure him
And from her mouth, whose life shall make it certain
I never can: I have a noble Husband.		155
Pray tell him that too, yet a noble name,
A noble Family and last a conscience:
Thus much by way of answer: for your selves
Yee have liv’d the shame of women, dye the better.		Exit
Phor: Whats now to doe?
Ard: Even as she said to dye,		160
For there’s noe living here and women thus
I am sure for us two.
Phor: Nothing stick° upon her?	nothing dishonourable to label her with (?)
Ard: Wee have lost a masse of money; well dame virtue
Yet yee may halt if good luck serve.
Phor: Wormes take her.
Ard: Soe Godly—		165
This is ill breeding Phorba.
Phor: If the women
Should have a longing now to see this Monster
And she convert em all—
Ard: That may bee Phorba
But if it bee Ile have the young men hang’d.
Come lets goe thinke, shee must not scape us thus.	Exeunt	170

[II.ii] Scæne the second:
Enter Balbus, Proculus, Chilax, Licinius


Bal: I never saw the like, shee’s noe more stirr’d,
Noe more another woman, noe more alter’d
With any hopes or promises lay’d to her
Let em be nere soe weighty, nere soe winning
Then I am with the motion of my owne leggs.		5
Pro: Chilax
You are a Stranger yet in these designes
At least in Rome, tell mee and tell mee truth:
Did you ere know in all your Course of practice
In all the wayes of women yee have runne through,		10
For I presume you have been brought up Chilax
As wee to fetch and carry.
Chi: True I have soe.
Pro: Did you I say againe in all this Progresse
Ever discover such a piece of Beauty,
Ever soe rare a creature: and noe doubt		15
One that must know her worth too and affect it,
I° and bee ﬂatter’d else tis none: and honest?		(Aye)
Honest against the tide of all Temptations;
Honest to one man to her Husband onely
And yet not Eighteene, not of age to know		20
Why shee is honest?
Chi: I confesse it freely
I never saw her fellow nor ere shall
For all our Græcian Dames as I have tryed
(And sure I have tryed a hundred if I say two
I speake within my compass), all these Beautyes		25
And all the constancy of all these Faces
Maids, Widdows, Wives, of what degree or Calling
Soe they bee Greekes and fat, for there’s my cunning
I would undertake and not swet for’t, Proculus,
Were they to try a gaine say twice as many,		30
Under a thousand pound to lay em ﬂat,
But this wench staggers mee.
Lic: Doe you see these Jewells
You would thinke these pretty baits, now Ile assure yee
Here’s halfe the wealth of Asia.
Bal: These are nothing
To the full honours I propounded to her.		35
I bid her thinke and bee, and presently
What ever her ambition, what the counsell
Of others would adde to her, what her dreames
Could more enlarge, what any presedent
Of any woman rising up to Glory,		40
And standing certaine there and in the highest
Could give her more, nay to bee Empresse.
Pro: And cold at all these offers?
Bal: Cold as Christall
Never to bee thaw’d.
Chi: I try’d her further
And soe farre that I thinke she is noe woman,		45
At least as women goe now.
Lic: Why what did you?
Chi: I offered that, that had shee been but Mistrisse
Of as much spleen as Doves have, I had reach’d her,
A safe revenge of all that ever hate her;
The crying downe forever of all Beautyes		50
That may bee thought come near her.
Pro: That was pretty.
Chi: I never knew that way faile, yet Ile tell ye
I offered her a gift beyond all yours,
That that had made a Saint start, well consider’d,
The Law to bee her creature, shee to make it		55
Her mouth to give it, Every thing alive
From her aspect to draw their good or evill
Fixt in em spite of Fortune; a new nature
She should bee called, and Mother of all Ages,
Time should bee hers, what shee did Flattring vertue		60
Should blesse to all Posterityes; her aire
Should give us life, her earth and water feed us.
And last to none but to the Emperour
(And then but when she pleas’d to have it soe)
She should bee held for Mortall.
Lyc: And shee heard you?		65
Chi: Yes as a sick man heares a noise, or hee
That stands condemn’d his Judgment, let mee perish
But if there can bee vertue, if that name
Bee any thing but name, and empty title,
If it bee soe as fooles are pleas’d to feign it,		70
A power that can preserve us after Ashes
And make the names of men out-reckon Ages
This woman has a God of vertue in her.
Bal: I would the Emperour were that God.
Chi: She has in her
All the contempt of Glory and vaine seeming		75
Of all the Stoicks; all the truth of Christians
And all their constancy. Modesty was made
When shee was ﬁrst intended; when shee blushes
It is the holiest thing to look upon,
The purest Temple of her sex, that ever		80
Made Nature a Blest Founder.
Chi: If shee were fat or any way enclining
To ease or pleasure or affected Glory
Proud to bee seen or worship’d twere a venture,
But on my Soule shee is chaster than cold Camphire.		85
Bal: I thinke soe too for all the ways of woman
Like a full sayle shee beares against: I askt her
After my many offers, walking with her
And her many downe denyalls, How
If the Emperour growne mad with love should force her,		90
She pointed to a Lucrece that hung by,
And with an angry looke that from her Eyes
Shot Vestall Fire against mee, she departed.
Pro: This is the ﬁrst woman I was ever pos’d in
Yet I have brought young loving things together		95
This two and thirty yeare.
Chi: I ﬁnd by this faire Lady
The calling of a Bawd to bee a strange,
A wise and subtile calling; and for none
But staid, discreet and understanding people;		100
And as the Tutor to great Alexander
Would say a young man should not dare to read
His morall bookes till after ﬁve and twenty:
Soe must that hee or shee, that will bee Bawdy
(I meane discreetly Bawdy, and bee Trusted)		105
If they will rise and gaine experience,
Well steept in yeares and discipline, begin it,
I take it tis noe Boys play.
Bal: Well what’s thought of.
Pro: The Emperour must know it.
Lyc: If the women should chance to fayle too—
Chi: As tis ten to one—		110
Pro: Why what remaines but new netts for the purchase?
The Emperour—	Enter Vallentinian
Emp: What? have yee brought her?
Chi: Brought her Sir—Alas
What would you doe with such a Cake of Ice
Whom all the Love ith Empire cannot thaw.		115
A dull crosse thing insensible of Glory
Deafe to all promises, dead to desire
A tædious Stickler for her husbands right
Who like a beggers Curre has brought her up
To fawne on him and barke at all besides,		120
True to the Budget° beyond all Temptation.		i.e., agreement, contract
Emp: Lewd and ill manner’d fool, wer’t not for feare
To doe thee good by mending of thy manners
Ide have thee whipt; is this th Account yee bring
To ease the torments of my restlesse mind?		125
Balbus: (Kneeling) Cæsar in vaine your Vassalls have endeavour’d
By promises, Perswasions, Reasons, Wealth,
All that can make the ﬁrmest Vertue bend
To alter her, our arguments like darts
Shot in the Bosome of the boundlesse Aire		130
Are lost and doe not leave the least Impression.
Forgive us if wee fayl’d to overcome
Vertue that could resist the Emperour.
Emp: Yee impotent provokers to my Lust
Who can incite and have noe power to helpe,		135
How dare yee bee alive and I unsatisﬁed
Who to your Beeings have noe other Title
Nor least hopes to preserve em but my smiles?
Who play like poysonous insects all the day
In the warme Shine of mee your Vitall Sun		140
And when night comes must perish.—
Wretches! whose vitious Lives when I withdraw
The Absolute protection of my Favour
Will dragge you into all the Miseries
That your owne Terrours, Universall hate		145
And Law with whips and jayles can bring upon you.
As you have fayl’d to satisfy my wishes
Perdition is the least you can expect,
Who durst to undertake and not performe.
Slaves was it ﬁtt I should bee disappointed?		150
Yet Live—
Continue infamous a little longer;
You have deserv’d to end, but for this once
I’le not tread out your nasty snuffes° of Life;		candle ends
But had your poysonous ﬂatteries prevayl’d		155
Upon her chastity I soe Admire
Which adds this ﬂaming fury to my ﬁre
Doggs had devour’d ere this your Carkasses;
Is that an object ﬁtt for my desires
Which lies within the reach of your perswasions?		160
Had you by your infectious Industry
Shew’d my Lucina frayle to that degree
You had been damn’d for undeceiving mee,
But to possesse her chast and uncorrupted!
There lyes the joy and Glory of my Love,		165
A Passion too reﬁn’d for your Dull Soules
And such a Blessing as I scorne to owe
The gaining of to any but my selfe:
Hast straight to Maximus and let him know
Hee must come instantly and speake with mee.		170
The rest of you wait here; I’le play to night.
*(To Chilax) You sawsy fool send privatly away*
For Lycias hither by the garden gate,
That sweet fac’d Eunuch that sung
In Maximus’es grove the other day		175
And in my closet keepe him till I come—
Chi: I shall Sir.	Exit Emp: and others
Tis a soft Rogue this Licias,
And rightly understood
Hee’s worth a thousand Women’s Nicenesses.		180
The Love of women moves ev’n with their Lust,
Who therefore still are fond but seldome just.
Their Love is Usury while they pretend
To gaine the pleasure double which they Lend.
But a deare Boyes disinterested ﬂame,		185
Gives Pleasure, and for meer Love gathers Paine:
In him alone fondness sincere does prove
And the kind, tender, naked boy, is Love.	Exit

[III.i] Act the third:
Enter Lucina—

Deare sollitary Groves where Peace does dwell,
Sweet Harbours of pure Love and Innocence,
How willingly could I forever stay
Beneath the shade of your embracing greenes
Listning to harmony of warbling Birds		5
Tun’d with the gentle murmurs of the Streame
Upon whose bankes in various Livery
The fragrant offspring of the Early Yeare
Their heads like gracefull Swans bent proudly down
See their owne beautyes in the Christall Floud;		10
Of these I could misterious chaplets weave
Expressing some kind Innocent designe
To shew my Maximus at his returne
And fondly chiding make his heart confesse
How far my busy idlenesse excells		15
The idle business Hee pursues all day
At the contentious Court or clamorous Camp,
Robbing my Eyes of what they love to see
My eares of his deare words they wish to heare
My longing Armes of the Embrace they covet.		20
Forgive mee Heav’n if when I these enjoy
Soe perfect is the Happinesse I ﬁnd
That my Soul satisﬁed feels noe Ambition
To change these humble Roofes and sitt above.
Enter Lycias.
Lycias: Madam my Lord just now allighted heere		25
Was by an order from the Emperour
Call’d back to Court.
This hee commanded mee to let you know
And that hee would make haste in his returne.
Lucin: The Emperour!		30
Unwonted horrour seizes mee all o’re
When I but heare him nam’d; sure tis not hate
For though his impious Love with scorne I heard
And ﬂed with Terrour from his threatning Force
Duty commands mee humbly to forgive		35
And blesse the Lord to whom my Lord does bow.
Nay more me thinks hee is the gracefull’st man
His words soe fram’d to tempt, himself to please
That tis my wonder how the Powers above,
Those wise and carefull Guardians of the good,		40
Have trusted such a force of tempting charmes
To Enemyes declar’d, of Innocence;
Tis then some strange Prophetique feare I feele
That seemes to warne mee of approaching ills.
Lycias goe fetch your Lute and sing that Song		45
My Lord calls his. I’le try to weare away
The melancholy thoughts his absence breeds.
Come gentle slumb’ers, in your ﬂattring Armes
I’le bury these disquiets of my mind
Till Maximus returne, for when hee’s here		50
My heart is rais’d above the reach of feare.
	Lycias Sings—The Song ended, Speakes
Lycias: She sleepes—
Now to the ﬂatt’ring Prospect of my Hopes;
The messenger that came to fetch my Lord
Has brought mee here a note from Proculus		55
Lett’s read a little—	Reads
Letter
Lycias, Thou art the most fortunate of men,
Riches and honours come upon thee full sayle.
What can determine thy Glory and greatness?
The Emperour Lov’s thee, Longs for thy company		60
Will delight in thee and trust thee; what an
Opportunity hast thou to destroy thy enemyes,
Delude thy friends, enrich thy self,
Enslave the World, raise thy kindred,
Humble thy Master and Governe him; hee expects		65
Thee about the ev’ning in his Closett, faile not,
And remember poore Chylax who allwayes lov’d
And honour’d thee, though till this hour itt was
His misfortune never to let thee know itt.
Farewell.		70
This is a Summons to Prosperity
And if I stopp or falter at the meanes
Or think they can bee vile and infamous,
Bee what they will that may my fortunes raise,
On Vesta’s Altar for some Lambe or Calfe		75
May I bee burnt a senslesse Sacriﬁce;
Time hurrys on lest therefore dull delay
Should blast my springing hopes I’le haste away.	Exit
Masque
Here begins the Masque which is to represent
a frightfull dreame to Lucina.

[III.ii] Scæne Opens, discovers the Emperour at dice

Emp: Nay sett my hand ont, tis not just
I should neglect my luck when tis soe prosperous.
Chy: If I have any thing to sett you Sir but cloathes
And good conditions let mee perish.
You have all my money—
Proc: And mine—
Lycin: And mine too.		5
Max: You may trust us sure Sir till tomorrow
Or if you please I’le send home for money presently.
Emp: Tis already morning and staying will be tedious—besides
My luck will vanish ere your money comes
Chylax: Shall wee redeem ’em if wee sett our howses		10
For by Heav’n Sir noe Taverne will receive us?
Emp: Yes fairly.
Chy: Then at my Villa—
Emp: At it—tis mine.
Chylax: Then farewell Figgtrees, for I can nere redeeme em.
Emp: Who setts—sett any thing.
Lycin: At my Horse—		15
Emp: The Dapple Spaniard?
Lycin: Hee— Emp: Hee’s mine: Lycin: Hee is soe.
Max: Ha!
Lycin: Nothing my Lord but Pox on my damn’d Fortune.
Emp: Come Maximus you were not wont to Flinch.
Max: By Heav’n Sir I have not a penny.
Emp: Then that Ring—		20
Max: O God Sir this was not given to Loose.
Emp: Some Love token, sett it I say.
Max: I begg you Sir—
Emp: How silly and how fond you’re growne of Toys.
Max: Shall I redeeme it?
Emp: When you please, tomorrow		25
Or next day as you will, I doe not care,
Only for Luck sake.
Max: There Sir will yee throw?
Emp: Why then have at it fairly, the last stake—
’Tis mine.
Max: You’re ever fortunate—tomorrow
I’le bring you what you please to think it worth.		30
Emp: Then your Arabian Horse, but for this night
I’le wear it as my Victory—	Enter Balbus
Balb: From the Camp.
Æcius in hast has sent these Letters Sir;
It seemes the Cohorts mutiny for pay.
Emp: Maximus! this is ill newes. Next week they are to march.		35
You must away immediately, noe stay,
Noe not soe much as to take leave at home;
This carefull haste may probably appease em.
Send word what are their numbers
And money shall bee sent to pay em all		40
Besides something by way of Donative.
Maxi: I’le not delay a moment Sir;
The Gods preserve you in this Mind forever.
Emp: I’le see em march my selfe.
Max: Gods ever keep yee—	Exit Maximus
Emp: To what end now d’yee think this Ring shall serve		45
For yee are the dullest and the veriest Rogues—
Fellowes that know only by Roate as Birds,
Whistle and sing.
Chylax: Why Sir tis for the Lady—
Emp: The Lady, Blockhead, which end of the Lady?
Her nose?
Chyl: Faith Sir that I know not.		50
Emp: Then pray for him that does.
Fetch in the Eunuch.	Exit Chylax
You see the Appartment made very ﬁne
That lies upon the Garden; Masques and Musick
With the best speed you can, and all your Arts
Serve to the highest, for my Masterpiece		55
Is now on foot—
Proc: Sir wee shall have a care.
Emp: Ile sleepe an howr or two—and let the Women
Put on Graver shew of wellcome.
Your wives they are such Haggard° Bawds;		froward, contrary, gaunt
A thought too Eager.	Enter Chylax and Lycias	60
Chylax: Heere’s Lycias Sir.
Lycias: Long life to mighty Cæsar.
Emp: Fortune to thee, for I must use thee Lycias.
Lycias: I am the humble slave of Cæsars will
By my ambition bound to his commands
As by my Duty.
Emp: Follow mee—
Lycias: With Joy—	Exeunt—	65

[III.iii] Enter Claudia, Marcellina

Clau: Prethee what ayles my Lady that of late
Shee never cares for company?
Mar: I know not
Unlesse it bee the company causes Cuckolds.
Claud: Ridiculous! that were a childish feare—
Tis opportunity does cause em rather,		5
When two made one are glad to bee alone.
Mar: But Claudia why this sitting up all night
In groves by purling streames? this argues heat
Great heat and vapours which are maine corrupters.
Marke when you will your Ladyes that have vapours;		10
They are not Flinchers, that insulting spleene
Is the Artillery of pow’rfull Lust
Discharg’d upon weake Honour, which stands out
Two ﬁtts of headach at the most then yields—
Claud: Thou art the frailest creature Marcellina		15
And think’st all womens Honour like thy owne,
Soe thin a cobwebb that each blast of Passion
Can blow away. But for my owne part girle
I thinke I may bee well stil’d Honours Martyr,
With ﬁrmest constancy I have endur’d		20
The raging heats of Passionate Desire
While ﬂaming Love and boyling Nature both
Were pow’rd upon my Soul with equall Torture,
I arm’d with Resolution stood it out
And kept my Honour safe.
Mar: Thy glorie’s greate.		25
But Claudia thankes to Heaven that I am made
The weakest of all women, fram’d soe frayle,
That Honour nere thought ﬁtt to chuse mee out,
His Champion against Pleasure; my poore Heart
For diverse yeares still tost from Flame to Flame		30
Is now burnt up to Tinder, every Sparke
Dropt from kind eyes setts it on ﬁre afresh:
Presst by a gentle hand I melt away,
One Sigh’s a storme that blowes mee all along;
Pitty a Wretch who has noe charme at all,		35
Against th’impetuous Tide of ﬂowing Pleasure,
Who wants both force and courage to maintaine
The glorious Warre made upon Flesh and Bloud,
But is a Sacriﬁce to every wish
And has noe pow’r left to resist a joy.		40
Claud: Poore girle how strange a Riddle vertue is!
They never misse it who possesse it not
And they who have it ever ﬁnd a want;
With what Tranquillity and peace thou liv’st.
For strip’t of shame, thou hast noe cause of Feare,		45
Whils’t I the Slave of Vertue am afraide
Of every thing I see, and thinke the World
A Dreadfull wildernesse of Savage Beasts;
Each man I meet I fancy will devour mee
And sway’d by Rules not naturall but affected,		50
I hate Mankind for feare of being Lov’d.
Mar: ’Tis nothing lesse than Witchcraft can constraine
Still to persist in errours wee perceive.
Preethee reforme, what Nature prompts us to
And Reason seconds why should wee avoyd?		55
This Honour is the veriest Mountebanke°—		itinerant quack, charlatan
It ﬁlls our fancies with affected Tricks
And makes us freakish, what a cheate must that bee
Which robbs our lives of all their softer howres!
Beauty our only Treasure it lays waste		60
Hurryes us over our neglected Youth
To the detested State of Age and uglinesse,
Tearing our dearest Hearts-Desires from us,
Then in reward of what it tooke away
Our joyes, our hopes, our wishes, and Delights,		65
It bountifully payes us all in Pride—
Poore shift still to bee Proud and never pleas’d;
Yet this is all your honour can doe for yee.
Claud: Concluded like thy selfe for sure thou art
The most corrupt corrupting thing alive;		70
Yet glory not too much in cheating witt,
Tis but false wisdome, and its property,
Has ever been to take the part of Vice,
Which though the fancy with vaine shews it pleases
Yet wants a pow’r to justiﬁe the mind—	Enter Lucina	75
But see my Lady guides her steps this way.
Blesse mee! how pale and how confus’d shee looks.
Lucin: In what Fantastique new world have I been,
What Horrours past? what threatning Visions seene?
Wrapt as I lay in my amazing Trance		80
The Host of Heav’n and Hell did round mee dance;
Debates arose betwixt the Pow’rs above
And those below, methought they talkt of Love
And nam’d mee often but it could not bee
Of any Love that had to doe with mee,		85
For all the while they talkt and argu’d thus
I never heard one word of Maximus:
Discourteous Nimphs who owne these murmring Flouds
And you unkinde Divinityes o’th’Woods,
When to your Banks and Bow’rs I came distrest		90
Halfe dead through absence° seeking peace and rest		i.e., Maximus’s absence
Why would you not protect by these your Streames
A sleeping Wretch from such wild dismall Dreames?
Mishapen Monsters round in measures went,
Horrid in Forme with gestures Insolent,		95
Grinning through goatish beards; with halfe clos’d Eyes
They look’t mee in the Face; frighted, To rise
In vaine I did attempt, meethought noe ground
Was (to support my sinking footsteps) found;
In Clammy Foggs like one half choak’t I lay,		100
Crying for help, my Voice was snatch’t away,
And when I would have ﬂed
My limbs benummd or dead
Could not my Will with Terrour wing’d obey.
Upon my Absent Lord for help I cry’d		105
But in that moment when I must have dy’d
With Anguish of my feares confusing paines
Relenting sleep loos’d his Tyrannique chaines.
Claud: Madam Alas such accidents as these
Are not of value to disturbe your Peace,		110
The cold damp dewes of Night have mixt and wrought
With the darke melancholly of your Thought
And through your Fancy these Illusions brought.
I still have mark’t your fondness will afford
Noe how’r of joy I’th’Absence of my Lord;		115
Lucin: Absent all night? and never send mee word?	Enter Lycias
Lycias: Madam while sleeping by those banks you lay
One from my Lord commanded mee away,
In all Obedient hast I went to Court
Where busy crowds confus’dly did resort,		120
Newes from the Camp it seemes was then arriv’d
Of Tumults rays’d and civill Warres contriv’d.
The Emperour frighted from his Bed does call
Grave Senators to Counsell, In the Hall.
Throngs of ill favour’d faces ﬁll’d with Scarres		125
Wait for employments praying hard for warres;
At Councell dore attend with faire pretence
In knavish decency and Reverence
Banquers, who with ofﬁcious diligence,
Lend money to supply the present need		130
At treble use, that greater may succeed,
Soe Publique wants will private plenty breed;
Whispring in every corner you might see—
Lucin: But whats all this to Maximus and mee?
Where is my Lord, what message has hee sent		135
Is hee in health? what fatall Accident
Does all this while his wish’t returne prevent?
Lycias: When ere the Gods that happy how’r decree
May hee appeare safe and with Victory:
Of many Heroes who stood candidate		140
To bee the Arbiters ’twixt Rome and Fate,
To quell Rebellion, and protect the Throne
A choyce was made of Maximus alone;
The People, Soldiers, Senate, Emperour
For Maximus with one assent concurr,		145
Their new born hopes now hurry him away,
Nor will their feares admitt one moments stay.
Trembling through terrour lest hee come too late
They huddle his dispatch while at the gate
The Emperours Charriots to conduct him waite.		150
Lucin: These Fatall Honours my dire Dreame foretold!
Why should the Kind bee ruin’d by the Bold?
Hee nere reﬂects upon my Destiny
Soe carelesse of himselfe, undoing mee;
Ah Claudia in my Vissions soe unskill’d		155
Hee’l to the Army goe and there bee kill’d;
Forgetfull of my Love, hee’l not afford
The easy favour of a parting word;
Of all my wishes hee’s alone the Scope
And hee’s the onely end of all my Hope,		160
My ﬁll of joy and what is yet above
Joyes, Hopes, and Wishes, Hee is all my Love;
Misterious Honour tell mee what thou art
That tak’st up diffrent formes in every Heart
And do’st to diverse Ends and Int’rests move!		165
Conquest is His, my Honour is my Love
Both these doe Paths soe oppositely choose
That following one you must the other loose;
Soe two streight Lines from the same point begun
Can never meet though without end they run.		170
Alas I rave—
Lyci: Looke on thy Glory Love and smile to see
Two faithfull Hearts at Strife for Victory,
Who blazing in thy Sacred Fires contend
While both their equall ﬂames to Heaven ascend.		175
The God that dwells in Eyes° light on my Tongue		i.e., Cupid
Lest in my Message I his Passion wrong.
You’l better guesse the Anguish of his heart
From what you feele than what I can impart;
But Madam know the moment I was come		180
His watchfull Eye perceivd mee in the Roome
When with a quick precipitated haste
From Cæsars Bosome where hee stood embrac’t
Piercing the busy Crowd to mee hee past;
Teares in his eyes, his orders in his Hand		185
Hee scarce had breath to give this short command;
With thy best Speed to my Lucina ﬂy,
If I must part unseene by her I dye,
Decrees inevitable from above
And Fate which takes too little care of Love		190
Force mee away, tell her tis my Request
By those kind ﬁres Shee kind’ld in my Brest,
Our future Hopes and all that wee hold deare,—
Shee instantly should come and see mee here
That parting griefes to her I may reveale		195
And on her Lipps propitious omens Seale;
Affaires that presse, in this short space of Time
Afford noe other Place without a Crime
And that thou may’st not faile of wish’t for Ends
In a successe whereon my Life depends		200
Give her this Ring.	Lookes on the Ring
Luc: How strange so ever these commands appeare
Love aw’s my reason and controuls my feare.
But how could’st thou employ thy Lavish Tongue
Soe Id’ly to bee telling this soe long:		205
When ev’ry moment thou hast spent in vaine
Was halfe the Life that did to mee remaine?
Flatter mee Hope, and on my wishes Smile,
And make mee happy yet a little while;
If through my Feares I can such Sorrow show		210
As to convince I perish if hee goe
Pitty perhaps his Generous Heart may move
To Sacriﬁce his Glory to his Love.
I’le not depaire—
Who know’s How Eloquent these eyes may prove		215
Begging in ﬂoods of teares, and ﬂames of Love;	Exeunt
Lycia: Thanks to the Devill my friend, now all’s our owne
How easily this Mighty Worke was done.
Well, ﬁrst or last all Women must bee wonne
It is their Fate and cannot bee withstood;		220
The wise doe still comply with Flesh and Bloud;
For if through peevish Honour Nature fayle
They doe but loose their thankes, Art will prevayle.	Exit

[IV.i] Act the Fourth
Enter Æcius pursuing Pontius, and Maximus following.

Max: Temper your selfe Æcius—
Pon: Hold my Lord I am a Souldier and a Roman.
Max: Pray Sir—
Æcius: Thou art a lying Villaine and a Traytor.
Give mee my selfe or by the Gods my Friend
You’ll make mee dangerous; how dar’st thou pluck		5
The Souldiers to Sedition and I living
And sow Rebellion in em and even then
When I am drawing out to Action?
Pont: Heare mee—
Max: Are you a man?
Æcius: I am truehearted Maximus
And if the Villaine live wee are dishonoured.		10
Max: But hear him what hee can say—
Æcius: That’s the way
To pardon him. I am soe easie Natur’d
That if hee speak but humbly I forgive him.
Pont: I doe beseech you, worthy Generall—
Æcius: H’as found the way already—Give mee Roome,		15
One stroke and if he scape mee then Ha’s mercy.
Ponti: I doe not call you worthy that I fear you,
I never car’d for death, if you will kill mee
Consider ﬁrst for what, not what you can doe.
Tis true I know you are my Generall		20
And by that great prerogative may kill—
Æcius: Hee argues with mee.
By heav’n a ﬁnisht rebell—
Max: Pray consider what certaine ground you have.
Aecius: What Grounds?
Did I not take him preaching to the Souldiers		25
How lazyly they liv’d, and what dishonour
It was, to serve a Prince so full of softness,
These were his very words Sir.
Max: These! Aecius
Though they were rashly spoken which was an error—
A great one Pontius — yet from him that hungers		30
For warre, and Brave imployments, might be pardon’d;
The Heart and harbour’d thoughts of ill makes Traytors
Not spleeny speeches—
Æcius: Why shou’d you protect him—
Go to, it scarce shews honest—
Max: Taint mee not.
For that shews worse Æcius.—all your friendship		35
And that pretended love yee lay upon mee,
Hold back my honesty, is like a favour
You doe your slave to day, to morrow hang him.
Was I your bosome friend for this?
Æcius: Forgive mee—
So zealous is my Duty for my Prince		40
That oft it makes mee to forget my selfe
And though I strive to be without my passion
I am noe God, Sir, for you whose infection
Has spread it self like poyson through the Army
And cast a killing Fogg on fair allegeance,		45
First thank the noble Gent.—you had dy’d else.
Next from your place and honour of a Souldier
I here seclude you—
Ponti: May I speake yet—
Max: Hear him—
Æcius: And while Æcius holds a Reputation
Att least command you beare noe Armes for Rome Sir.		50
Pont: Against her I shall never; the condemn’d man
Has yet the priviledge to speake my Lord;
Law were not equall else.
Max: Pray hear Æcius.
For happily° the fault he has committed		i.e., haply, perhaps, maybe
Though I believe it mighty, yet considered,		55
If mercy may bee thought upon, will prove
Rather a hasty Sinne than a Heinous.
Æcius: Speake—
Ponti: Tis true my Lord you took mee tyr’d with Care,
My words as rough and ragged as my fortune,
Telling the Souldiers what a man wee serve,		60
Led from us by the ﬂourishes of Fencers;
I blamed him too for softness—
Æcius: To the rest Sir.
Pont: And like enough I blest him then as Souldiers
Will doe somtimes, tis true I told em too
Wee lay at home to shew our Country		65
Wee durst goe naked, durst want meat, and money,
And when the Slave drinks wine, wee durst bee thirsty.
I told ’em this too, that the trees, and roots,
Were our best pay masters; the Charity
Of longing Women who had bought our bodies		70
Our beds, ﬁres, Talours, Nurses.
Tis likely, too, I Counsell’d them to turn
Their warlike Pikes, to Plowshares, their sure Targets;
And Swords, hatch’t° with the Bloud of many Nations		i.e., marked
To spades and pruning Knives; for these their warlike		75
Eagles, into Daws and Starlings
To give an Ave Cesar as hee passes
And be rewarded with a thousand Dragmas
For thus wee got only Old age and Roots.
Æcius: What think you;
Were these words to be spoken by a Captaine,		80
One that should give Example?
Max: ’Twas too much.
Pont: My Lord, I did not woe em from the Empire
Nor bid em turn their Daring steel against Cesar;
The gods forever hate mee, if that motion
Were part of mee: give mee but imployment		85
And way to live, and where you hold mee vicious
Bred up to Mutiny my sword shall tell you
And if you please that place I held maintaine it,
Gainst the most Daring foes of Rome I’me honest:
A lover of my Country, one that holds		90
His life noe longer his than kept for Cesar.
Weigh not (I thus low on my knee beseech you)
What my rude tongue discovered; ’twas my want,
Noe other part of Pontius. have you seen mee,
And you my Lord, doe something for my Country		95
And both beheld the wounds I gave and tooke
Not like a backward Traytor.
Æcius: All your language
Makes but against you Pontius: you are Cast
And by my Honour, and my love to Cesar
By mee shall never be restored; in my Camp		100
I will not have a tongue though to himselfe
Dare talk but neere Sedition; as I Governe
All shall obey and when they want, their Duty
And ready service shall redress their needs
Not prating what they would bee.
Ponti: Thus I leave you.		105
Yet shall my prayers, although my wretched fortune
Must follow you noe more, bee still about you;
Gods give you where you ﬁght the Victory,
Yee cannot Cast my wishes.
Æcius: Come my Lord.
Now to the ﬁeld againe.
Max: Alas poore Pontius!		110

Exeunt

[IV.ii] Scæne the 2^d Act 4^th
Chylax at one door. Lycinius and Balbus at another.

Licini: How now—
Chyl: She’s come—
Balb: Then Il’e to the Emperour—	Exit Balbus
Chyl: Is the musick plac’t well?
Lycin: Excellent!
Chyl: Lycinius you and Proculus receive them
In the great Chamber at her entrance.
Lycin: Let us a lone.
Chyl: And doe you hear Lycinius,		5
Pray let the women ply° her farther off		address
And with much more discretion; one word more—
Are all the Maskers ready—
Lycin: Take noe care man—	Exit
Chyl: I am all over in sweat with pimping
’Tis a Laborious Moyling trade this— Enter Emp:, Balb and Procu:		10
Emp: Is she come?
Chyl: Shee is Sir but ’twere best
That you were last seen to her.
Emp: Soe I meane.
Keep your Court empty Proculus.
Proc: Tis done Sir.
Emp: Bee not too Suddainly to her.
Chyl: Good sweet Sir
Retire and man your self; let us alone.		15
Wee are noe children this way: one thing Sir
Tis necessary that her shee companions
Bee cut off in the Lobby by the women,
They’d break the business else.
Emp: Tis true— they shall.
Chyl: Remember your place Proculus.
Proc: I warrant you—	Exeunt Emp: Balb. and Proc	20
Enter Lucina, Claudia, Marcellina and Lycias
Chyl: She enters! who waits there? the Emperour
Calls for his Chariots; he will take the aire.
Lucina: I am glad I came in such a happy hour
When hee’l bee absent: this removes all feare.
But Lycius lead mee to my Lord.		25
Heav’n grant he bee not gone.
Lycias: Faith Madam that’s uncertaine.
I’le run and see but if you miss my Lord
And ﬁnd a Better to supply his roome
A change soe happy will not discontent you.	Exit
Lucin: What means the unwonted Insolence of this Slave?		30
Now I begin to fear agen. oh! Honour
If ever thou hadst Temple in weak woman
And sacriﬁce of modesty offer’d to thee,
Hold mee fast now and I’le be safe forever.
Chyl: The fair Lucina here! nay then I ﬁnde		35
Our Slander’d Court has not sinn’d up so high
To fright all the good Angels from its Care
Since they have sent soe great a blessing hither.
Madam I beg the advantage of my fortune,
Who as I am the ﬁrst have met you here,		40
May humbly hope to bee made proud and happy
With the honour of your ﬁrst commands and service.
Lucin: Sir I am soe far from knowing how to merrit
Your service that your complements° too much		i.e. compliment is
And I returne it you with all my heart.		45
You’le want it Sir for those that know you better.
Chyl: Madam I have the honour to be own’d
By Maximus for his most humble servant
Which gives mee conﬁdence.
Marc: Now Claudia for a wager,		50
What thing is this that Cringes to my Lady?
Claud: Why some grave statsman, by his looks a Courtier—
Marc: Claudia a Baud, by all my hopes a Baud;
What use can reverend gravity be of here
To any but a trusty Baud?		55
Statsmen are mark’t for Fopps by it, besides
Nothing but sin and Lazyness cou’d make him
Soe very fat and look so ﬂeshly on’t.
Claudi: You thinke great blessings attend on sin.
Marc: The soft sins of the ﬂesh give good content		60
And that’s a Blessing in my poor opinion;
Of other kinde of sins I have little use
And therefore I abhorre em.
Claudia: A hopefull Girle,
I would my Lady heard you.
Lucin: But is my Lord not gone yet, doe you say Sir?		65
Chyl: Hee is not Madam and must take this kindly,
Exceeding kindly of yee, wond’rous kindly,
You come soe far to visit him. I’le guide you.
Lucin: Whether?
Chyl: Why to my Lord.
Lucin: Is it impossible
To ﬁnde him in this place without a guide		70
For I would willingly not trouble you?
Chyl: My only trouble Madam is my fear
I’me too unworthy of so great an Honour,
But here you’re in the publique Gallery
Where the Emperour must pass unless you’d see him.		75
Luci: Blesse me Sir, no —pray lead mee any whither.
My Lord cannot be long before he ﬁnd mee.
Exeunt
Enter Lycinius, Proc. and Balbus
Lycin: She’s coming up the Staires— now the Musick
And as that softens, her Love will grow warme
Till she melts downe, then Cesar lays his stamp.		80
Burn those perfumes there!
Proc: Peace, no noise without!	Exeunt
The Songs—Enter Chyl, Lucina, Claudia, Marcellina
Luci: Claudia, where is this Wretch, this Villaine Lycias?
Pray heav’n my Lord bee here for now I feare it.
I’me certainly betray’d—this Cursed Ring		85
Is either counterfeit or Stolen.
Clau: Your feare
Does but disarme your resolution,
Which may defend you in the worst extreams,
Or if that faile are there not Gods and Angels.
Luci: None in this place I feare but Evil ones.		90
Heav’n pitty mee—
Chyl: But tell mee dearest Madam
How doe you like the Songs—
Luci: Sir I am noe Judge
Of Musicke and the words, I thanke my Gods
I did not understand.
Chyl: The Emperour
Has the best talent at expounding ’em;		95
You’le ne’re forget a lesson of his Teaching.
Lucin: Are you the worthy friend of Maximus
Would lead mee to him! he shall thank you Sir
As you deserve—
Chyl: Madam he shall not need—
I have a Master will reward my service		100
When you have made him happy with your Love
For which he hourly Languishes, be kind—	whispers
Lucin: The Gods shall kill mee ﬁrst!—
Chyl: Thinke better on’t,
Tis sweeter dying in the Emperours Armes.
Enter Phor. and Ard.
But here are Ladies come to see you Madam;		105
They’le entertaine you better, I but tire you
Therefore I’le leave you for a while, and bring
Your much lov’d Lord unto you—	Exit
Lucin: Then I’le thanke you.
I am betray’d for certaine—
Phor: You are a well come woman.
Ard: Blesse mee Heav’n!		110
How did you ﬁnde your way to Court?
Lucin: I know not, would I’de never trod it.
Phor: Prethee tell me—
Good pretty Lady and deare sweet heart, Love us
For wee love thee extreamly, is not this place
A paradice to live in?
Lucin: Yes to you		115
Who know no Paradice but guilty pleasure.
Ard: Heard you the musick yet?
Lucin: ’Twas none to mee.
Phor: You must not bee thus froward—what, this Gowne
Is one o’th prettiest by my troth Ardelia
I ever saw; yet ’twas not to frowne in Madam		120
You put this Gowne on when you came.
Ard: How d’eye?
Alas, poore wretch, how Cold it is.
Lucin: Content yee
I am as well as may bee, and as temperate
Soe you will let mee be so; where’s my Lord
For thats the business I come for hither?		125
Phor: We’ll lead you to him—hee’s i’th Gallery.
Ard: We’ll shew you all the Court too.
Lucin: Shew me him and you have shew’d mee all I come to look on.
Phor: Come on we’ll be your guides and as you go
We have some pretty tales to tell you Madam		130
Shall make you merry too. You came not hither
To bee sad Lucina.
Luci: Wou’d I might not—	Exeunt
Enter Chylax and Balbus in haste
Chil: Now see all ready Balbus, runne.
Balb: I ﬂy Boy—	Exit
Chil: The women by this time are warming of her;
If she holds out them the Emperour		135
Takes her to task, he has her—hark I hear ’em.
Enter Emperour drawing in Lucina
Emp: Would you have runne away so Slily Madam—
Lucina: I beseech you Sir
Consider what I am and whose.
Emp: I doe so,
For what you are I am ﬁll’d with such a maze,		140
So farre transported with desire and Love
My slippery Soule ﬂows to you while I speak;
And whose you were I care not for now you are mine
Who Love you and will doat on you more
Than you doe on your virtue.
Lucina: Sacred Cesar—		145
Emp: You shall not kneel to mee, rise.
Lucina: Looke upon mee
And if you be so Cruel to abuse mee
Think how the Gods will take it—does this Face
Afﬂict your Soul, I’le hide it from you ever,
Nay more I will become so leprous		150
That yee shall Curse mee from yee—My Dear Lord
Has ever serv’d you truly, fought your Battels
As if hee dayly long’d to die for Cesar,
Was never Traytor Sir nor never Tainted
In all the Actions of his Life.		155
Cesar: How high does this fantastick virtue swell?
She thinkes it Infamy to please too well,
I know it.
Luci: His merits and his fame have growne together,
Together ﬂowrish’d like two spreading Cedars		160
Over the Roman Diadem; oh let not
(As you have a heart Sir thats humane in you)
The having of an honest wife decline him,
Let not my vertue be a wedge to breake him
Much lesse my shame his undeserv’d dishonour.		165
I do not thinke you are so bad a man—
I know report belies you, you are Cesar
Which is the Father of the Empires glory,
You are too near the nature of the Gods
To wrong the weakest of all Creatures, woman.		170
Emp: (Aside) I dare not do it here—rise faire Lucina
When you believe me worthy ye make mee happy.
Chylax waite on her to her Lord within.
Wipe your faire eyes—	Exeunt
Ah Love a cursed Boy!
Where art thou that torments mee thus unseen		175
And ragest with thy ﬁres within my breast
With Idle purpose to inﬂame her heart
Which is as unaccessible and Cold
As the proud topps of those aspiring Hills
Whose heads are wrapt in everlasting snow		180
Though the hot sun role over em every day?
And as his beams which only shine above
Scorch and consume in Regions round below,
Soft Love which throws such brightness through her Eyes
Leaves her heart Cold and burns mee at her feet:		185
My Tyrant, but her Flattering Slave thou art:
A glory round her lovely face, a ﬁre within my heart.
Who waits without—Lycinias—	Enter Lycinius
Lycini: My Lord?
Emp: Where are the Masquers that shoud Dance to Night?
Lycini: In the old Hall Sir going now to practice.		190
Emp: About it straight, ’twill serve to draw away
Those listning Fooles who trace it in the Gallery;
And if (be chance) odd noise shoud bee heard,
As womens shricks or soe, say tis a play
Is practicing within.
Lycini: The Rape of Lucrece		195
Or some such merry pranck—it shall bee done Sir.	Exit
Emp: Tis nobler like a Lion to invade
Where appetite directs, and seize my prey
Than to wait tamely like a begging Dogg
Till dull consent throws out the scraps of Love.		200
I scorne those Gods who seek to cross my wishes
And will in spite of them be happy—Force
Of all the powers is the most Generous
For what that gives it freely does bestow
Without the after Bribe of Gratitude.		205
I’le plunge into a Sea of my desires
And quench my fever though I drowne my Fame
And tear up pleasure by the roots—no matter
Though it never grow againe—what shall ensue
Let Gods and fates look to it, ’tis their business.	Exit	210

Lucina’s Rape Or The Tragedy of Vallentinian

Staging

Copy-text

Lucina’s Rape Or The Tragedy of Vallentinian

[II.i] Act the 2d Scæ the First.Enter Lucina, Ardelia and Phorba.

[II.ii] Scæne the second:Enter Balbus, Proculus, Chilax, Licinius

[III.i] Act the third:Enter Lucina—

[III.ii] Scæne Opens, discovers the Emperour at dice

[III.iii] Enter Claudia, Marcellina

[IV.i] Act the FourthEnter Æcius pursuing Pontius, and Maximus following.

[IV.ii] Scæne the 2d Act 4thChylax at one door. Lycinius and Balbus at another.

[II.i] Act the 2^d Scæ the First.
Enter Lucina, Ardelia and Phorba.

[II.ii] Scæne the second:
Enter Balbus, Proculus, Chilax, Licinius

[III.i] Act the third:
Enter Lucina—

[IV.i] Act the Fourth
Enter Æcius pursuing Pontius, and Maximus following.

[IV.ii] Scæne the 2^d Act 4^th
Chylax at one door. Lycinius and Balbus at another.