_Chil._ He will kill us, I mark'd his hand, he waits but time to reach us, Now do you offer. _Aeci._ If ye do mangle me, And kill me not at two blows, or at three, Or not so stagger me, my senses fail me, Look to your selves. _Chil._ I told ye. _Aeci._ Strike me manly, And take a thousand strokes.-- _Enter_ Pontius. _Bal._ Here's _Pontius_. _Pon._ Not kill'd him yet? Is this the love ye bear the Emperour? Nay then I see ye are Traitors all, have at ye.-- [Lici. _runs away_. _Chi._ Oh I am hurt. _Bal._ And I am kill'd-- [_Exeunt_ Chil. _and_ Bal. _Pon._ Dye Bawds; As ye have liv'd and flourish'd. _Aeci._ Wretched fellow, What hast thou done? _Pon._ Kill'd them that durst not kill, And you are next. _Aeci._ Art thou not _Pontius_? _Pon._ I am the same you cast _Æcius_, And in the face of all the Camp disgrac'd. _Aec._ Then so much nobler, as thou wert a Souldier, Shall my death be: is it revenge provok'd thee, Or art thou hir'd to kill me? _Pon._ Both. _Aeci._ Then do it. _Pon._ Is that all? _Aeci._ Yes. _Pon._ Would you not live? _Aeci._ Why should I, To thank thee for my life? _Pon._ Yes, if I spare it. _Aeci._ Be not deceiv'd, I was not made to thank For any courtesie, but killing me, A fellow of thy fortune; do thy duty. _Pon._ Do not you fear me? _Aeci._ No. _Pon._ Nor love me for it? _Aeci._ That's as thou dost thy business. _Pon._ When you are dead, Your place is mine _Æcius_. _Aeci._ Now I fear thee, And not alone thee _Pontius_, but the Empire. _Pon._ Why, I can govern Sir. _Aeci._ I would thou couldst, And first thy self: Thou canst fight well, and bravely, Thou canst endure all dangers, heats, colds, hungers; Heavens angry flashes are not suddainer, Than I have seen thee execute; nor more mortal; The winged feet of flying enemies I have stood and view'd thee mow away like rushes, And still kill the killer: were thy minde, But half so sweet in peace, as rough in dangers, I died to leave a happy heir behind me; Come strike, and be a General. _Pon._ Prepare then: And, for I see your honour cannot lessen, And 'twere a shame for me to strike a dead man, Fight your short span out. _Aeci._ No thou knowst I must not, I dare not give thee so much vantage of me, As disobedience. _Pon._ Dare ye not defend ye Against your enemy?