Max. If I fear to follow,
A Cowards name pursue me.
Dio. Now my Fate
Guide and direct me.
Cam. You are rude and sawcy,
With your forbidden feet to touch this ground,
Sacred to Cæsar only, and to these
That do attend his person; Speak, what are you?
Dio. What thou, nor any of thy faction are,
Nor ever were: Souldiers, and honest men.
Cam. So blunt?
Geta. Nay, you shall find he's good at the sharp too.
Dio. No instruments of craft: engines of murther,
That serve the Emperour only with oil'd tongues,
Sooth and applaud his vices, play the Bauds
To all his appetites; and when you have wrought
So far upon his weakness, that he's grown
Odious to the subject and himself,
And can no further help your wicked ends,
You rid him out of the way.
Cam. Treason?
Dio. 'Tis truth,
And I will make it good.
Cam. Lay hands upon 'em,
Or kill them suddenly.