Soph. Thou dost not, Martius,
And therefore not what 'tis to live; to die
Is to begin to live: It is to end
An old stale weary work, and to commence
A newer and a better. 'Tis to leave
Deceitfull knaves for the societie
Of gods and goodness. Thou thy self must part
At last from all thy garlands, pleasures, Triumphs,
And prove thy fortitude, what then 'twill do.
Val. But ar't not griev'd nor vex'd to leave life thus?
Soph. Why should I grieve, or vex for being sent
To them I ever lov'd best? now I'll kneel,
But with my back toward thee; 'tis the last duty
This trunk can doe the gods.
Mar. Strike, strike, Valerius,
Or Martius heart will leap out at his mouth.
This is a man, a woman! Kiss thy Lord,
And live with all the freedome you were wont.
O Love! thou doubly hast afflicted me,
With virtue, and with beauty. Treacherous heart,
My hand shall cast thee quick into my urne,
E're thou transgress this knot of pietie.
Val. What ails my Brother?
Soph. Martius, oh Martius!
Thou now hast found a way to conquer me.
Dor. O star of Rome, what gratitude can speak
Fit words to follow such a deed as this?
Mar. Doth Juno talk, or Dorigen?
Val. You are observ'd.
Mar. This admirable Duke (Valerius)
With his disdain of Fortune, and of Death,
Captiv'd himself, hath captivated me:
And though my arm hath ta'ne his body here,
His soul hath subjugated Martius soul:
By Romulus, he is all soul, I think;
He hath no flesh, and spirit cannot b[e] gyv'd;
Then we have vanquish'd nothing; he is free,
And Martius walks now in captivitie.