_Max._ And could you live without me? _Æci._ It would much trouble me to live without ye. Our loves, and loving souls have been so us'd But to one houshold in us: but to dye Because I could not make you live, were woman, Far much too weak, were it to save your worth, Or to redeem your name from rooting out, To quit you bravely fighting from the foe, Or fetch ye off, where honour had ingag'd ye. I ought, and would dye for ye. _Max._ Truly spoken. What beast but I, that must, could hurt this man now? Would he had ravish'd me, I would have paid him, I would have taught him such a trick, his Eunuchs Nor all his black-eyed Boys dreamt of yet; By all the Gods I am mad now; now were _Cæsar_ Within my reach, and on his glorious top The pile of all the world, he went to nothing; The Destinies, nor all the dames of Hell, Were I once grappl'd with him, should relieve him, No not the hope of mankind more; all perished; But this is words, and weakness. _Æci._ Ye look strangely. _Max._ I look but as I am, I am a stranger. _Æci._ To me? _Max._ To every one, I am no _Roman_; Nor what I am do I know. _Æci._ Then I'le leave ye. _Max._ I find I am best so, if ye meet with _Maximus_ Pray bid him be an honest man for my sake, You may do much upon him; for his shadow, Let me alone. _Æci._ Ye were not wont to talk thus, And to your friend; ye have some danger in you, That willingly would run to action, Take heed, by all our love take heed. _Max._ I danger? I, willing to do any thing, I dig. Has not my Wife been dead two dayes already? Are not my mournings by this time moth-eaten? Are not her sins dispers'd to other Women, And many one ravish'd to relieve her? Have I shed tears these twelve hours? _Æci._ Now ye weep. _Max._ Some lazie drops that staid behind.