SCENE V.
Reading edition
Enter Geta, Guard, Souldiers.
Get. I'll swear the Peace against 'em, I am hurt, Run for a Surgeon, or I faint. 1 Guard. Bear up, man, 'Tis but a scratch. Get. Scoring a man o'r the Coxcomb Is but a scratch with you! —— o' your occupation, Your scurvy scuffling trade; I was told before My face was bad enough; but now I look Like bloody Bone, and raw head, to fright Children; I am for no use else. 2 Guard. Thou shalt fright men. 1 Guard. You look so terrible now; but see your face In the Pummel of my Sword. Get. I dye, I am gone. Oh my sweet physiognomy.
Enter three Persians.
2 Guard. They come, Now fight, or dye indeed. Get. I will 'scape this way; I cannot hold my Sword; what would you have Of a maim'd man? 1 Guard. Nay, then I have a goad To prick you forward, Oxe. 2 Guard. Fight like a Man, Or dye like a Dog. Get. Shall I, like Cæsar, fall Among my friends? no mercy? Et tu Brute? You shall not have the honour of my death, I'll fall by the Enemy first. 1 Guard. O brave, brave Geta, [Persians driven off. He plays the Devil now.
Enter Niger.
Nig. Make up for honour, The Persians shrink. The passage is laid open, Great Dioclesian, like a second Mars, His strong arm govern'd by the fierce Bellona, Performs more than a man; his shield struck full Of Persian Darts, which now are his defence Against the Enemies Swords, still leads the way. Of all the Persian Forces, one strong Squadron,
[Alarm's continued.
In which Cosroe in his own person fights, Stands firm, and yet unrouted; Break thorow that, The day, and all is ours. [Retreat. All. Victory, Victory. [Exeunt. Flourish.