_Del._ So, 'tis deferr'd yet, in despite of falshood: Comfort _Drusilla_, for he shall be thine, Or wish, in vain, he were not. I will punish [_Ascend._ His perjury to the height. Mount up, my birds; Some Rites I am to perform to _Hecate_, To perfect my designs; which once perform'd, He shall be made obedient to thy Call, Or in his ruine I will bury all. [_Ascends throne._ _Actus Tertius. Scena Prima._ _Enter_ Maximinian, (_solus_.) _Max._ What powerful Star shin'd at this mans Nativity? And bless'd his homely Cradle with full glory? What throngs of people press and buz about him, And with their humming flatteries sing him _Cæsar_? Sing him aloud, and grow hoarse with saluting him? How the fierce-minded Souldier steals in to him, Adores and courts his honour? at his devotion Their lives, their vertues, and their fortunes laying? _Charinus_ sues, the Emperour intreats him, And as a brighter flame, takes his beams from him. The bless'd and bright _Aurelia_, she doats on him, And, as the god of Love, burns incense to him. All eyes live on him. Yet I am still _Maximinian_, Still the same poor and wretched thing, his servant. What have I got by this? where lies my glory? How am I rais'd and honour'd? I have gone as far To woo this purblind honour, and have pass'd As many dangerous Expeditions, As noble, and as high; nay, in his destinie (Whilst 'twas unknown) have run as many hazards, And done as much; sweat thorow as many perils; Only the Hang-man of _Volutius Aper_ (Which I mistook) has made him Emperour, And me his slave. _Enter_ Delphia, _and_ Drusilla. _Del._ Stand still; he cannot see us, Till I please: mark him well, this discontentment I have forc'd into him, for thy cause, _Drusilla_. _Max._ Can the gods see this; See it with justice, and confer their blessings On him, that never flung one grain of incense Upon their Altars? never bow'd his knee yet; And I that have march'd foot by foot, struck equally, And whilst he was a gleaning, have been praying, Contemning his base covetous-- _Del._ Now we'll be open. _Max._ Bless me, and with all reverence. _Del._ Stand up, Son, And wonder not at thy ungratefull Uncle: I know thy thoughts, and I appear to ease 'em. _Max._ O Mother, did I stand the tenth part to ye Engag'd and fetter'd, as mine Uncle does, How would I serve, how would I fall before ye! The poorer powers we worship.