JAILER. If needs, I would.
MARIUS. Yet were you loth to try?
JAILER. Why, noble lord, when goods, friends, fortune fail,
What more than death might woful man avail?
MARIUS. Who calls for death, my friend, for all his scorns?
With Aesop's slave will leave his bush of thorns.
But since these trait'rous lords will have my head,
Their lordships here upon this homely bed
Shall find me sleeping, breathing forth my breath,
Till they their shame, and I my fame, attain by death.
Live, gentle Marius, to revenge my wrong!
And, sirrah, see they stay not over-long;
For he that erst hath conquer'd kingdoms many,
Disdains in death to be subdu'd by any.
[He lies down.
Enter LUCIUS FAVORINUS, PAUSANIUS, with
PEDRO, a Frenchman.
JAILER. The most undaunted words that ever were.
The mighty thoughts of his imperious mind,
Do wound my heart with terror and remorse.
PAUSANIUS. 'Tis desperate, not perfect nobleness:
For to a man that is prepar'd to die,
The heart should rend, the sleep should leave the eye.
But say, Pedro, will you do the deed?
PEDRO.[122] Mon monsieurs, per la sang Dieu, me will make a trou so large in ce belly, dat he sal cry hough, come un porceau. Featre de lay, il a tue me fadre, he kill my modre. Faith a my trote mon espee fera le fay dun soldat, sau sau. Ieievera come il founta pary: me will make a spitch-cock of his persona.
L. FAVORINUS. If he have slain thy father and thy friends,
The greater honour shall betide the deed;
For to revenge on righteous estimate
Beseems the honour of a Frenchman's name.
PEDRO. Mes messiers, de fault avoir argent; me no point de argent, no point kill Marius.