PAUSANIUS. Nay stay, my lord, and deign in private here To wait a message of more better worth: Your age and travels must have some relief; And be not wrath, for greater men than we Have feared Rome and Roman tyranny. MARIUS. You talk it now like men confirmed in faith. Well, let me try the fruits of your discourse, For care my mind and pain my body wrongs. PAUSANIUS. Then, Favorinus, shut his lordship up Within some secret chamber in the state. Meanwhile, we will consult to keep him safe, And work some secret means for his supply. MARIUS. Be trusty, lords; if not, I can but die. [_Exit_ MARIUS. PAUSANIUS. Poor, hapless Roman, little wottest thou The weary end of thine oppressed life. LUCIUS. Why, my Pausanius, what imports these words? PAUSANIUS. O Lucius, age hath printed in my thoughts A memory of many troubles pass'd. The greatest towns and lords of Asia Have stood on tickle terms through simple truth: The Rhodian records well can witness this. Then, to prevent our means of overthrow, Find out some stranger, that may suddenly Enter the chamber, where as Marius lies, And cut him short; the present of whose head Shall make the Romans praise us for our truth, And Sylla prest to grant us privilege. LUCIUS. A barbarous act to wrong the men that trust. PAUSANIUS. In country's cause injustice proveth just. Come, Lucius, let not silly thought of right Subject our city to the Roman's might: For why you know in Marius only end Rome will reward, and Sylla will befriend. LUCIUS. Yet all successions will us discommend. [_Exeunt_. _Enter_ MARIUS _the younger_; CETHEGUS, LECTORIUS, _with Roman Lords and Soldiers_. YOUNG MARIUS. The wayward lady of this wicked world, That leads in luckless triumph wretched men, My Roman friends, hath forced our desires, And fram'd our minds to brook too base relief. What land or Lybian desert is unsought To find my father Marius and your friend? Yea, they whom true relent could never touch-- These fierce Numidians, hearing our mishaps, Weep floods of moan to wail our wretched fates. Thus we, that erst with terrors did attaint The Bactrian bounds, and in our Roman wars Enforc'd the barbarous borderers of the Alps To tremble with the terrors of our looks, Now fly, poor men, affrighted without harms: Seeking amidst the desert rocks and dens For him, that whilom in our capitol Even with a beck commanded Asia. Thou woful son of such a famous man, Unsheathe thy sword, conduct these warlike men To Rome, unhappy mistress of our harms: And there, since tyrants' power hath thee oppress'd, And robb'd thee of thy father, friends, and all, So die undaunted, killing of thy foes, That were the offspring of these wretched woes.