Aeci. Is there an hour of goodness beyond this?
Or any man would out-live such a dying?
Would Cæsar double all my honours on me,
And stick me o're with favours, like a Mistris;
Yet would I grow to this man: I have loved,
But never doated on a face till now:
O death thou art more than beautie, and thy pleasure
Beyond posterity: Come friends and kill me;
Cæsar be kind, and send a thousand swords,
The more, the greater is my fall: why stay ye?
Come, and I'le kiss your weapons: fear me not,
By all the gods I'le honour ye for killing:
Appear, or through the Court, and world, I'le search ye:
My sword is gone; ye are Traitors if ye spare me,
And Cæsar must consume ye: all base cowards?
I'le follow ye, and e're I dye proclaim ye
The weeds of Italy; the dross of nature—
Where are ye, villains, traytors, slaves.— [Exit.
Enter Proculus, and 3 others running over the Stage.
Pro. I knew
H'ad kill'd the Captain.
1. Here's his sword.
Pro. Let it alone, 'twill fight it self else; friends,
An hundred men are not enough to do it,
I'le to the Emperour, and get more aid.
Aeci. None strike a poor condemned man?
Pro. He is mad:
Shift for your selves my Masters.— [Exeunt.
Enter Æcius.
Æcius. Then Æcius,
See what thou darst thy self; hold my good sword,
Thou hast been kept from bloud too long, I'le kiss thee,
For thou art more then friend now, my preserver,
Shew me the way to happiness, I seek it:
And all you great ones, that have faln as I do,
To keep your memories, and honours living,
Be present in your vertues, and assist me,
That like strong Cato, I may put away
All promises, but what shall crown my ashes;
Rome, fare thee well: stand long, and know to conquer
Whilst there is people, and ambition:
Now for a stroak shall turn me to a Star:
I come ye blessed spirits, make me room
To live for ever in Elyzium:
Do men fear this? O that posterity
Could learn from him but this, that loves his wound,
There is no pain at all in dying well,
Nor none are lost, but those that make their hell— [Kills himself.
Enter Proculus, and two others.