_Del._ Peace, and be patient, For though he be now a man most miserable, Of no rank, nor no badge of honour on him, Bred low and poor, no eye of favour shining; And though my sure Prediction of his Rising (Which can no more fail than the day or night does, Nay, let him be asleep, will overtake him) Hath found some rubs and stops, yet hear me, Neece, And hear me with a faith, it shall come to him; I'll tell thee the occasion. _Dru._ Do, good _Aunt_; For yet I am ignorant. _Del._ Chiding him one day For being too near, and sparing for a Souldier, Too griping, and too greedy; he made answer, When I am _Cæsar_, then I will be liberal. I, presently inspir'd with holy fire, And my prophetick Spirit burning in me, Gave answer from the gods, and this it was, _Imperator eris Romæ, cum Aprum grandem interfeceris_: Thou shalt be Emperour, O _Diocles_, When thou hast kill'd a mighty Boar. From that time (As giving credit to my words) he has employ'd Much of his life in hunting; many Boars Hideous and fierce, with his own hands he has kill'd too, But yet not lighted on the fatal one, Should raise him to the Empire; Be not sad, Neece, E're long he shall; Come, let's go entertain him, For by this time I guess he comes from hunting; And by my Art I find this very instant Some great design's o' foot. _Dru._ The gods give good, Aunt. [_Exeunt._ SCENE III. _Enter_ Diocles, Maximinian, Geta, _with a Boar_. _Dio._ Lay down the Boar. _Get._ With all my heart; I am weary on't; I shall turn Jew if I carry many such burthens: Do you think, Master, to be Emperour With killing Swine? you may be an honest Butcher, Or allied to a seemly family of sowse-wives. Can you be such an Ass, my Reverend Master, To think these springs of Pork will shoot up _Cæsars_? _Max._ The fool says true. _Dio._ Come, leave your fooling, Sirrah, And think of what thou shalt be when I am Emperour. _Get._ Would it would come with thinking, for then o' my conscience, I should be at least a Senator. _Max._ A Sowter; For that's a place more fitted to thy nature, If there could be such an expectation; Or say, the Devil could perform this wonder; Can such a Rascal as thou art, hope for honour? Such a log-carrying Lowt? _Get._ Yes, and bear it too, And bear it swimmingly. I am not the first Ass, Sir, Has born good office, and perform'd it reverendly. _Dio._ Thou being the Son of a Tiler, canst thou hope to be a Senator? _Get._ Thou being the Son of a Tanner, canst thou hope to be an Emperor? _Dio._ Thou sayst true, _Geta_, there's a stop indeed; But yet the bold and vertuous--