Governor, he may thank Fortune that I am breathing my last; and that my Arm is too feeble to obey my Heart, in what it had design’d him’: But his Tongue faultering, and trembling, he could scarce end what he was saying. The _English_ taking Advantage by his Weakness, cry’d, _Let us take him alive by all Means._ He heard ’em; and, as if he had reviv’d from a Fainting, or a Dream, he cried out, ‘No, Gentlemen, you are deceived; you will find no more _Cæsars_ to be whipt; no more find a Faith in me; Feeble as you think me, I have Strength yet left to secure me from a second Indignity.’ They swore all anew; and he only shook his Head, and beheld them with Scorn. Then they cry’d out, _Who will venture on this single Man? Will nobody?_ They stood all silent, while _Cæsar_ replied, _Fatal will be the Attempt of the first Adventurer, let him assure himself_, (and, at that Word, held up his Knife in a menacing Posture:) _Look ye, ye faithless Crew_, said he, _’tis not Life I seek, nor am I afraid of dying_, (and at that Word, cut a Piece of Flesh from his own Throat, and threw it at ’em) _yet still I would live if I could, till I had perfected my Revenge: But, oh! it cannot be; I feel Life gliding from my Eyes and Heart; and if I make not haste, I shall fall a Victim to the shameful Whip._ At that, he rip’d up his own Belly, and took his Bowels and pull’d ’em out, with what Strength he could; while some, on their Knees imploring, besought him to hold his Hand. But when they saw him tottering, they cry’d out, _Will none venture on him?_ A bold _Englishman_ cry’d, _Yes, if he were the Devil_, (taking Courage when he saw him almost dead) and swearing a horrid Oath for his farewel to the World, he rush’d on him. _Cæsar_ with his arm’d Hand, met him so fairly, as stuck him to the Heart, and he Fell dead at his feet. _Tuscan_ seeing that, cry’d out, _I love thee, O +Cæsar+! and therefore will not let thee die, if possible_; and running to him, took him in his Arms; but, at the same time, warding a Blow that _Cæsar_ made at his Bosom, he receiv’d it quite through his Arm; and _Cæsar_ having not Strength to pluck the Knife forth, tho’ he attempted it, _Tuscan_ neither pull’d it out himself, nor suffer’d it to be pull’d out, but came down with it sticking in his Arm; and the Reason he gave for it, was, because the Air should not get into the Wound. They put their Hands a-cross, and carry’d _Cæsar_ between six of ’em, fainting as he was, and they thought dead, or just dying; and they brought him to _Parham_, and laid him on a Couch, and had the Chirurgeon immediately to him, who dressed his Wounds, and sow’d up his Belly, and us’d Means to bring him to Life, which they effected. We ran all to see him; and, if before we thought him so beautiful a Sight, he was now so alter’d, that his Face was like a Death’s-Head black’d over, nothing but Teeth and Eye-holes: For some Days we suffer’d no Body to speak to him, but caused Cordials