L. FAVORINUS. Ah, my Pausanius, I have often heard, That yonder Marius in his infancy Was born to greater fortunes than we deem: For, being scarce from out his cradle crept, And sporting prettily with his compeers, On sudden seven young eagles soar'd amain, And kindly perch'd upon his tender lap. His parents, wondering at this strange event, Took counsel of the soothsayers in this; Who told them that these sevenfold eagles' flight Forefigured his seven times consulship:[124] And we ourselves (except bewitch'd with pride) Have seen him six times in the capitol, Accompanied with rods and axes too. And some divine instinct so presseth me, That sore I tremble, till I set him free. PAUSANIUS. The like assaults attain my wand'ring mind, Seeing our bootless war with matchless fate. Let us entreat him to forsake our town; So shall we gain a friend of Rome and him. [MARIUS _awaketh_. But mark how happily he doth awake. MARIUS. What, breathe I yet, poor man, with mounting sighs, Choking the rivers of my restless eyes? Or is their rage restrain'd with matchless ruth? See how amaz'd these angry lords behold The poor, confused looks of wretched Marius. Minturnians, why delays your headsman thus To finish up this ruthful tragedy? L. FAVORINUS. Far be it, Marius, from our thoughts or hands To wrong the man protected by the gods: Live happy, Marius, so thou leave our town. MARIUS. And must I wrestle once again with fate, Or will these princes dally with mine age? PAUSANIUS. No, matchless Roman; thine approved mind, That erst hath alter'd our ambitious wrong, Must flourish still, and we thy servants live To see thy glories, like the swelling tides, Exceed the bounds of fate and Roman rule. Yet leave us, lord, and seek some safer shed, Where, more secure, thou may'st prevent mishaps; For great pursuits and troubles thee await. MARIUS. Ye piteous powers, that with successful hopes And gentle counsels thwart my deep despairs, Old Marius to your mercies recommends His hap, his life, his hazard, and his son. Minturnians, I will hence, and you shall fly Occasions of those troubles you expect. Dream not on dangers, that have sav'd my life. Lordings, adieu: from walls to woods I wend; To hills, dales, rocks, my wrong for to commend. [_Exit_. L. FAVORINUS. Fortune, vouchsafe his many woes to end. [_Exeunt_. _Enter_ SYLLA[125] _in triumph in his chair triumphant of gold, drawn by four Moors; before the chariot, his colours, his crest, his captains, his prisoners_: ARCATHIUS, _Mithridates' son_; ARISTION, ARCHELAUS, _bearing crowns of gold, and manacled. After the chariot, his soldier's bands_; BASILLUS, LUCRETIUS, LUCULLUS, _besides prisoners of divers nations and sundry disguises_.