_Aeci._ 'Tis true; Nor I the miseries that _Rome_ shall suffer, Which is a benefit life cannot reckon: But what I have been, which is just, and faithfull; One that grew old for _Rome_, when _Rome_ forgot him, And for he was an honest man durst die, Ye shall have daily with ye: could that dye too, And I return no traffick of my travels, No pay to have been Souldier, but this Silver, No _Annals_ of _Æcius_, but he liv'd, My friends, ye had cause to weep, and bitterly; The common overflows of tender women, And children new born crying, were too little To shew me then most wretched: if tears must be, I should in justice weep 'em, and for you, You are to live, and yet behold those slaughters The drie, and wither'd bones of death would bleed at: But sooner, than I have time to think what must be, I fear you'l find what shall be; If ye love me, Let that word serve for all, be gone and leave me; I have some little practice with my soul, And then the sharpest sword is welcom'st; goe, Pray be gone, ye have obey'd me living, Be not for shame now stubborn; so I thank ye, And fare ye well, a better fortune guide ye-- [_Exeunt_ Phi. _and_ Aretus. I am a little thirstie, not for fear, And yet it is a kind of fear, I say so; Is it to be a just man now again, And leave my flesh unthought of? 'tis departed: I hear 'em come, who strikes first? I stay for ye: _Enter_ Balbus, Chilax, Licinius. Yet I will dye a Souldier, my sword drawn, But against none: Why do ye fear? come forward. _Bal._ You were a Souldier _Chilax_. _Chil._ Yes, I muster'd But never saw the Enemy. _Lici._ He's drawn, By heaven I dare not do it. _Aeci._ Why do ye tremble? I am to die, come ye not now from _Cæsar_ To that end, speak? _Bal._ We do, and we must kill ye, 'Tis _Cæsars_ will. _Chil._ I charge you put your sword up, That we may do it handsomly. _Aeci._ Ha, ha, ha, My sword up, handsomly? where were ye bred? Ye are the merriest murderers my masters I ever met withal; Come forward fools, Why do ye stare? upon mine honour Bawds, I will not strike ye. _Lici._ I'le not be first. _Bal._ Nor I. _Chil._ You had best die quietly: the Emperour Sees how you bear your self. _Aeci._ I would die Rascals, If you would kill me quietly. _Bal._ ---- of _Proculus_, He promis'd us to bring a Captain hither, That has been used to kill. _Aeci._ I'le call the Guard, Unless you will kill me quickly, and proclaim What beastly, base, and cowardly companions The Emperour has trusted with his safetie: Nay I'le give out, ye fell of my side, villains, Strike home ye bawdy slaves.