(SCENE 2.)

Enter Piso, Lucan, Scevinus, Flavius.

Flav. But, since we are discover'd, what remaines But put our lives upon our hands? these swords Shall try us Traitors or true Citizens.

Scevin. And what should make this hazard doubt successe? Stout men are oft with sudden onsets danted: What shall this Stage-player be?

Lucan. It is not now Augustus gravitie nor Tiberius craft, But Tigellinus and Chrisogonus, Eunuckes and women that we goe against.

Scevin. This for thy owne sake, this for ours we begg, That thou wilt suffer him to be orecome; Why shouldst thou keepe so many vowed swords From such a hated throate?

Flav. Or shall we feare To trust unto the Gods so good a cause?

Lucan. By this we may ourselves Heavens favour promise Because all noblenesse and worth on earth We see's on our side. Here the Fabys sonne, Here the Corvini are and take that part There noble Fathers would, if now they liv'd. There's not a soule that claimes Nobilitie, Either by his or his forefathers merit, But is with us; with us the gallant youth Whom passed dangers or hote bloud makes bould; Staid men suspect their wisdome or their faith To whom our counsels we have not reveald; And while (our party seeking to disgrace) They traitors call us, each man treason praiseth And hateth faith when Piso is a traitor.

Scevin. And,[69] at adventure, what by stoutnesse can Befall us worse than will by cowardise? If both the people and the souldier failde us Yet shall we die at least worthy our selves, Worthy our ancestors. O Piso thinke, Thinke on that day when in the Parthian fields Thou cryedst to th'flying Legions to turne And looke Death in the face; he was not grim But faire and lovely when he came in armes. O why there di'd we not on Syrian swords? Were we reserv'd to prisons and to chaines? Behold the Galley-asses in every street; And even now they come to clap on yrons. Must Pisoes head be shewed upon a pole? Those members torne, rather then Roman-like And Piso-like with weapons in our hands Fighting in throng of enemies to die? And that it shall not be a civill warre Nero prevents, whose cruelty hath left Few Citizens; we are not Romans now But Moores, and Jewes, and utmost Spaniards, And Asiaes refuse[70] that doe fill the Citie.

Piso. Part of us are already tak'n; the rest Amaz'd and seeking holes. Our hidden ends You see laid open; Court and Citie arm'd And for feare ioyning to the part they feare. Why should we move desperate and hopelesse armes And vainely spill that noble bloud that should Christall Rubes[71] and the Median fields, Not Tiber colour? And the more your show be, Your loves and readinesse to loose your lives, The lother I am to adventure them. Yet am I proud you would for me have dy'd; But live, and keepe your selves to worthier ends. No Mother but my owne shall weepe my death Nor will I make, by overthrowing us, Heaven guiltie of more faults yet; from the hopes Your owne good wishes rather then the thing Doe make you see, this comfort I receive Of death unforst. O friends I would not die When I can live no longer; 'tis my glory That free and willing I give up this breath, Leaving such courages as yours untri'd. But to be long in talk of dying would Shew a relenting and a doubtfull mind: By this you shall my quiet thoughts intend; I blame not Earth nor Heaven for my end.[72] (He dies.)

Lucan. O that this noble courage had bin shewne Rather on enemies breasts then on thy owne.

Scevin. But sacred and inviolate be thy will, And let it lead and teach us. This sword I could more willingly have thrust Through Neroes breast; that fortune deni'd me, It now shall through Scevinus.

[Exeunt.