O you deere ashes, _Cassius_ and _Brutus_,
That was with you entomb'd, their let it rest.
We are contented with the galling yoke
If they will only leave us necks to beare it:
We seeke no longer freedome, we seeke life;
At least, not to be murdred, let us die
On Enemies swords. Shall we, whom neither
The _Median_ Bow nor _Macedonian_ Speare
Nor the fierce _Gaul_ nor painted _Briton_ could
Subdue, lay down our neckes to tyrants axe?
Why doe we talke of Vertue that obay
Weaknesse and Vice?

_Piso_. Have patience, good _Scevinus_.

_Lucan_. Weaknesse and servile Government we hitherto
Obeyed have, which, that we may no longer,
We have our lives and fortunes now set up,
And have our cause with _Pisoes_ credit strengthned.

_Flav_. Which makes it doubtfull whether love to him
Or _Neroes_ hatred hath drawne more unto us.

_Piso_. I see the good thoughts you have of me, Lords.
Lets now proceede to th'purpose of our meeting:
I pray you take your places.
Lets have some paper brought.

_Scevin_. Whose within?