_Dio._ Thou art like thy name, A cruel Boar, whose snout hath rooted up The fruitfull Vineyard of the common-wealth: I long have hunted for thee, and since now Thou art in the Toyl, it is in vain to hope Thou ever shalt break out: thou dost deserve The Hangmans hook, or to be punished _More majorum_, whipt with rods to death, Or any way, that were more terrible. Yet, since my future fate depends upon thee, Thus, to ful[fi]ll great _Delphia_'s Prophecie, _Aper_ (thou fatal Boar) receive the honour [_Kills_ Aper. To fall by _Diocles_ hand. Shine clear, my Stars, That usher'd me to taste this common air In my entrance to the world, and give applause To this great work. [_Musick._ _Del._ Strike Musick from the Spheres. _Dru._ O now you honour me. _Dio._ Ha! in the Air! _All._ Miraculous. _Max._ This shews the gods approve The Person, and the Act: then if the Senate (For in their eyes I read the Souldiers love) Think _Diocles_ worthy to supply the place Of dead _Numerianus_, as he stands His Heir, in his revenge, with one consent Salute him Emperour. _Senat._ Long live _Diocles_: _Augustus_, _Pater Patriæ_, and all Titles, That are peculiar only to the _Cæsars_, We gladly throw upon him. _Guard._ We confirm it, And will defend his honour with our Swords Against the world: raise him to the Tribunal. _1 Sen._ Fetch the Imperial Robes: and as a sign We give him absolute power of life and death, Bind this Sword to his side. _2 Sen._ Omit no Ceremony That may be for his honour. _SONG._ _Max._ Still the gods Express that they are pleas'd with this election. _Geta._ My Master is an Emperour, and I feel A Senators Itch upon me: would I could hire These fine invisible Fidlers to play to me At my instalment. _Dio._ I embrace your loves, And hope the honours that you heap upon me, Shall be with strength supported. It shall be My studie to appear another _Atlas_, To stand firm underneath this heaven of Empire, And bear it boldly. I desire no Titles, But as I shall deserve 'em. I will keep The name I had, being a private man, Only with some small difference; I will add To _Diocles_ but two short syllables, And be called _Dioclesianus_. _Geta._ That is fine: I'le follow the fashion; and when I am a Senator, I will be no more plain _Geta_, but be call'd Lord _Getianus_. _Dru._ He ne'er thinks of me, Nor of your favour. _Enter_ Niger. _Del._ If he dares prove false, These glories shall be to him as a dream, Or an inchanted banquet.