Æci. I am a true hearted, Maximus,
And if the Villain live, we are dishonour'd.
Max. But hear him what he can say.
Æci. That's the way,
To pardon him; I am so easie natur'd,
That if he speak but humbly I forgive him.
Pon. I do beseech ye noble General.
Æci. Has found the way already, give me room,
One stroak, and if he scape me then h'as mercy.
Pon. I do not call ye noble, that I fear ye,
I never car'd for death; if ye will kill me,
Consider first for what, not what you can do;
'Tis true, I know ye for my General,
And by that great Prerogative may kill:
But do it justly then.
Æci. He argues with me,
A made up Rebel.
Max. Pray consider,
What certain grounds ye have for this.
Æci. What grounds?
Did I not take him preaching to the Souldier
How lazily they liv'd, and what dishonours
It was to serve a Prince so full of woman?
Those were his very words, friend.
Max. These, Æcius,
Though they were rashly spoke, which was an errour
(A great one Pontius) yet from him that hungers
For wars, and brave imployment, might be pardon'd.
The heart, and harbour'd thoughts of ill, make Traytors,
Not spleeny speeches.