_Æcius._ Let not this body That has look'd bravely in his blood for _Cæsar_, And covetous of wounds, and for your safety, After the 'scape of Swords, Spears, Slings, and Arrows, 'Gainst which my beaten body was mine armour, The Seas and thirsty Desarts now be purchase For Slaves, and base Informers; I see anger, And death look through your Eyes; I am markt for slaughter, And know the telling of this truth has made me A man clean lost to this World; I embrace it; Only my last Petition, sacred _Cæsar_, Is, I may dye a _Roman_. _Emp._ Rise, my friend still, And worthy of my love, reclaim the Souldier, I'll study to do so upon my self too, Go, keep your Command, and prosper. _Æcius._ Life to _Cæsar_-- [_Exit_ Æcius. _Enter_ Chilax. _Chi._ Lord _Maximus_ attends your Grace. _Emp._ Go tell him I'll meet him in the Gallery: The honesty of this _Æcius_, Who is indeed the Bull-wark of the Empire, Has div'd so deep into me, that of all The sins I covet, but this Womans beauty, With much repentance now I could be quit of; But she is such a pleasure, being good, That though I were a god, she'd fire my blood. [_Exeunt._ _Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._ _Enter the Emperour_, Maximus, Licinius, Proculus, Chilax, _as at Dice_. _Emp._ Nay ye shall set my hand out, 'tis not just I should neglect my fortune now 'tis prosperous. _Lic._ If I have any thing to set your Grace, But Cloaths or good conditions, let me perish. You have all my money, Sir. _Pro._ And mine. _Chi._ And mine too. _Max._ Unless your Grace will credit us. _Emp._ No bare board. _Lic._ Then at my Garden-House. _Emp._ The Orchard too. _Lic._ And't please your Grace. _Emp._ Have at 'em. _Pro._ They are lost. _Lic._ Why, farewel Fig-trees. _Emp._ Who sets more? _Chil._ At my horse, Sir. _Emp._ The dapl'd _Spaniard_? _Chil._ He. _Emp._ He's mine. _Chil._ He is so. _Max._ Your short horse is soon curried. _Chil._ So it seems, Sir, So may your Mare be too, if luck serve. _Max._ Ha? _Chil._ Nothing my Lord, but grieving at my fortune. _Emp._ Come _Maximus_, you were not wont to flinch thus. _Max._ I have lost all. _Emp._ There's a Ring yet. _Max._ This was not made to lose, Sir. _Emp._ Some love token; Set it I say. _Max._ I do beseech your Grace, Rather name any house I have. _Emp._ How strange And curious you are grown of toys! redeem't If so I win it, when you please, to morrow, Or next day, as you will, I care not, But only for my lucks sake; 'tis not Rings Can make me richer. _Max._ Will you throw, Sir? there 'tis.