Aeci. Get ye from me:
Is not the doom of Cæsar on this body,
Do not I bear my last hour here, now sent me?
Am I not old Aecius, ever dying?
You think this tenderness and love you bring me,
'Tis treason, and the strength of disobedience,
And if ye tempt me further, ye shall feel it:
I seek the Camp for safety, when my death
Ten times more glorious than my life, and lasting
Bids me be happy? Let the fool fear dying,
Or he that weds a woman for his honour,
Dreaming no other life to come but kisses;
Aecius is not now to learn to suffer:
If ye dare shew a just affection, kill me,
I stay but those that must: why do ye weep?
Am I so wretched to deserve mens pities?
Goe give your tears to those that lose their worths,
Bewail their miseries, for me wear Garlands,
Drink wine, and much; sing Peans to my praise,
I am to triumph friends, and more than Cæsar,
For Cæsar fears to die, I love to die.
Phi. O my dear Lord!
Aeci. No more, goe, goe I say;
Shew me not signs of sorrow, I deserve none:
Dare any man lament, I should die nobly?
Am I grown old to have such enemies?
When I am dead, speak honourably of me,
That is, preserve my memory from dying;
There if you needs must weep your ruin'd Master,
A tear or two will seem well: this I charge ye,
(because ye say you yet love old Aecius)
See my poor body burnt, and some to sing
About my Pile, and what I have done and suffer'd,
If Cæsar kill not that too: at your banquets
When I am gone, if any chance to number
The times that have been sad and dangerous,
Say how I fell, and 'tis sufficient:
No more I say, he that laments my end
By all the gods dishonours me; be gone
And suddainly, and wisely from my dangers,
My death is catching else.
Phi. We fear not dying.
Aec. Yet fear a wilfull death, the just Gods hate it,
I need no company to that that Children
Dare do alone, and Slaves are proud to purchase;
Live till your honesties, as mine has done,
Make this corrupted age sick of your vertues,
Then dye a sacrifice, and then ye know
The noble use of dying well, and Roman.
Are. And must we leave ye Sir?
Aeci. We must all die,
All leave our selves, it matters not where, when,
Nor how, so we die well: and can that man that does so
Need lamentation for him? Children weep
Because they have offended, or for fear;
Women for want of will, and anger; is there
In noble man, that truly feels both poyses
Of life and death, so much of this wet weakness,
To drown a glorious death in child and woman?
I am asham'd to see ye; yet ye move me,
And were it not my manhood would accuse me,
For covetous to live, I should weep with ye.
Phi. O we shall never see you more.
Aeci. 'Tis true;
Nor I the miseries that Rome shall suffer,
Which is a benefit life cannot reckon:
But what I have been, which is just, and faithfull;
One that grew old for Rome, when Rome forgot him,
And for he was an honest man durst die,
Ye shall have daily with ye: could that dye too,
And I return no traffick of my travels,
No pay to have been Souldier, but this Silver,
No Annals of Æcius, but he liv'd,
My friends, ye had cause to weep, and bitterly;
The common overflows of tender women,
And children new born crying, were too little
To shew me then most wretched: if tears must be,
I should in justice weep 'em, and for you,
You are to live, and yet behold those slaughters
The drie, and wither'd bones of death would bleed at:
But sooner, than I have time to think what must be,
I fear you'l find what shall be;
If ye love me,
Let that word serve for all, be gone and leave me;
I have some little practice with my soul,
And then the sharpest sword is welcom'st; goe,
Pray be gone, ye have obey'd me living,
Be not for shame now stubborn; so I thank ye,
And fare ye well, a better fortune guide ye—
[Exeunt Phi. and Aretus.