_Emp._ Why, then have at it fairly, mine. _Max._ Your Grace Is only ever fortunate; to morrow, And't be your pleasure, Sir, I'll pay the price on't. _Emp._ To morrow you shall have it withou[t] price, Sir, But this day 'tis my Victory; good _Maximus_, Now I bethink my self, go to _Æcius_, And bid him muster all the Cohorts presently; They mutiny for pay I hear, and be you Assistant to him; when you know their numbers, Ye shall have monies for 'em, and above, Something to stop their tongues withal. _Max._ I will Sir, And gods preserve you in this mind still. _Emp._ Shortly I'll see 'em march my self. _Max._ Gods ever keep ye-- [_Exit_ Maximus. _Emp._ To what end do you think this Ring shall serve now? For ye are Fellows only know by rote, As Birds record their lessons. _Chil._ For the Lady. _Emp._ But how for her? _Chil._ That I confess I know not. _Emp._ Then pray for him that does: fetch me an Eunuch That never saw her yet; and you two see The Court made like a Paradise. [_Exit_ Chilax. _Lic._ We will, Sir. _Emp._ Full of fair shews and Musicks; all your arts (As I shall give instructions) screw to th' highest, For my main piece is now a doing; and for fear You should not take, I'll have another Engine, Such as if vertue be not only in her, She shall not chuse but lean to, let the Women Put on a graver shew of welcome. _Pro._ Well Sir. _Emp._ They are a thought too eager. _Enter_ Chilax, _and_ Lycias _the Eunuch_. _Chi._ Here's the Eunuch. _Eun._ Long life to _Cæsar_. _Emp._ I must use you, _Lycias_: Come, let's walk in, and then I'll shew ye all, If women may be frail, this wench shall fall. [_Exeunt._ SCENE II. _Enter_ Claudia, _and_ Marcellina. _Claud._ Sirrah, what ails my Lady that of late She never cares for Company? _Mar._ I know not, Unless it be that Company causes Cuckolds. _Claud._ That were a childish fear. _Mar._ What were those Ladies, Came to her lately From the Court? _Claud._ The same wench, Some grave instructors on my life, they look For all the world like old hatcht hilts. _Mar._ 'Tis true, Wench, For here and there, and yet they painted well too, One might discover where the Gold was worn, Their iron ages. _Claud._ If my judgement fail not, They have been sheathed like rotten Ships. _Mar._ It may be. _Claud._ For if you mark their rudders, they hang weakly. _Mar._ They have past the line belike; wouldst live _Claudia_ Till thou wert such as they are?