_Max._ Thus I return the strokes which they have given; [_Stabbing_ PLACIDIUS. Thus, traitor, thus, and thus I would to heaven. [PLACIDIUS _falls, and the Emperor staggers after him, and sits down upon him; the Guards come to help the Emperor._ _Max._ Stand off, and let me, ere my strength be gone, Take my last pleasure of revenge, alone. _Enter a Centurion._ _Cent._ Arm, arm, the camp is in a mutiny: For Rome and liberty the soldiers cry. Porphyrius moved their pity, as he went To rescue Berenice from punishment; And now he heads their new attempted crime. _Max._ Now I am down, the Gods have watch'd their time. You think To save your credit, feeble deities; But I will give myself the strength to rise. [_He strives to get up, and, being up, staggers._ It wonnot be---- My body has not power my mind to bear.---- I must return again--and conquer here. [_Sits down upon the body._ My coward body does my will controul; Farewell, thou base deserter of my soul! I'll shake this carcase off, and be obeyed; Reign an imperial ghost without its aid. Go, soldiers, take my ensigns with you; fight, And vanquish rebels in your sovereign's right: Before I die---- Bring me Porphyrius and my empress dead:-- I would brave heaven, in my each hand a head. _Plac._ Do not regard a dying tyrant's breath, He can but look revenge on you in death. [_To the Soldiers._ _Max._ Vanquished, and dar'st thou yet a rebel be? Thus, I can more than look revenge on thee. [_Stabs him again._ _Plac._ Oh, I am gone! [_Dies._ _Max._ And after thee I go, Revenging still, and following ev'n to the other world my blow; [_Stabs him again._ And shoving back this earth on which I sit, I'll mount, and scatter all the Gods I hit. [_Dies._ _Enter_ PORPHYRIUS, BERENICE, ALBINUS, _Soldiers_. PORPHYRIUS _looks on the Bodies entering, and speaks_. _Por._ Tis done before, (this mighty work of fate!) And I am glad your swords are come too late. He was my prince, and though a bloody one, I should have conquered, and have mercy shewn. Sheath all your swords, and cease your enmity; They are not foes, but Romans, whom you see. _Ber._ He was my tyrant, but my husband too; And therefore duty will some tears allow. _Por._ Placidius here! And fair Valeria, new deprived of breath! Who can unriddle this dumb-show of death?