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FLAVIA.

Enough, enough, I meant not to offend;

That I'm about to ask is truly urgent,

Nor more nor less than our own banishment.

PASCENTIUS.

Th' impending exile is to me most strange,

But if thy dearest mother thou can'st leave,

Then must it be most pressing; I consent,

And will not ruffle thee by further question.

But silence for a while, here comes the Fool.

Of him some tidings we perchance may hear.

Enter FOOL.

FLAVIA.

Speak, Fool, when did'st last see my gentle mother?

FOOL.

Rather ask, when 'twas that i e'er saw

thy father in such sort before; marry, he did

never speak so roundly to me. Of old, your

Fool did make your sage one tremble, but my

foolship hath not found it so. Times must in-

deed be bad, when fools lack wit to battle wise

mens ire; nay, but I have legs, therefore can

run; a heart, that's merry, but wou'd be more

so, an 'twas drench'd with sack from my ladle;

but no matter, that's empty, till you gentle chuse

to fill it, then by your leaves we'll walk, and

carry our wits where they'll chance meet better fare.

PASCENTIUS.

Nay, nay, come hither Fool, be not too hasty;

This fellow's true and honest, and, dear sister,

Might well our purpose serve, wilt thou consent

That in our service he be bound?

FLAVIA.

Of me ask nothing, but pursue that council

Which in thy riper wisdom shall seem meet.

PASCENTIUS.

What's thy purpose, Fool?

FOOL.

To quit thy father.

PASCENTIUS.

What think'st o'me for a master?

FOOL.

Nay, o'that I think not, for thou wou'dst

joke, but an thou dost, thou hast rare impudence

to do't i'th' presence of a fool.

When thy beard is somewhat blacker,

When thy years have made thee riper,

When in thy purse the pounds thou'lt tell,

And for a brothel thou't not sell

Thy patrimony, and thy lands,

Why marry, an I should then find nought more

suiting, my charity shall bid me follow thee, and

teach thee the ways o'this slippery world.

FLAVIA.

O tarry not, for we must hence away;

What hour is it?

PASCENTIUS.

Near five o'th' clock.

Yon brilliant mass o'fire the golden sun,

Hath just saluted with a blushing kiss,

That partner of his bed the vasty sea.

FOOL.

Yea, and your father wills that you do soon

salute your beds, for he hath order'd that supper

be instantly brought into the hall.

FLAVIA.

Good heav'n's! so soon, O my Pascentius,

Each moment lost is an eternity.

[Exeunt.

FOOL.

Nay, then ye are gone and ha left your

poor Fool behind. Methinks I love that young

master; nay, I know not how 'tis, but my legs

wou'd needs go follow him; yet master Fool, is

this wisdom? for they say the legs should ne'er

carry away the brains; yet let me see, cannot I,

in my folly, now form this saying, and turn it to

mine own conceit? I ha hit it; for it matters

not what comes o' my brains, for men say they are

good for naught, but my legs are; therefore, let

the better o'th' two serve as guide for the other.

I'll away then, and follow him.

[Exit.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Rome.

Enter AURELIUS and UTER,

CONSTANTIUS' two Brothers.

UTER.

E'en now in Rome have we for seven long years

Made this our wearisome and constant sojourn,

I would we were again in Britain.

AURELIUS.

Even so good Uter stands it with myself,

Nay, an thou yearn'st to see thy native land,

How is it then with me that there have left

The jewel of my soul, my dearest Flavia!

UTER.

Nay, good my brother, patience yet a little,

All will be well, Flavia doth love you still.

AURELIUS.

I cannot, will not bear this absence longer.

Enter Servant.

SERVANT.

A messenger, my lords, attends without

On business of great import.

AURELIUS.

Whence comes he?

SERVANT.

From Britain.

AURELIUS.

From Britain say'st thou! then admit him straight.

[Exit Servant.

Enter Messenger.

MESSENGER.

My gracious lord, are you the eldest son

Of our good King Constantius?

AURELIUS.

Even so.

MESSENGER.

This packet then, I fear, will news contain

The most afflicting.

AURELIUS reads.

These letters we in haste dispatch'd