I[45] have a Fidler heard him, let me not
See him a Player, nor the fearefull voyce
Of _Romes_ great Monarch now command in Iest--
Our Prince be _Agamemnon_[46] in a Play!

_Petron_. Why,[47] _Seneca_, 'Tis better in [a] Play
Be _Agamemnon_ than himselfe indeed.
How oft, with danger of the field beset
Or with home mutineys, would he unbee
Himselfe; or, over cruel alters weeping,
Wish that with putting off a vizard hee
Might his true inward sorrow lay aside.
The showes of things are better then themselves.
How doth it stirre this ayery part of us
To heare our Poets tell imagin'd fights
And the strange blowes that fained courage gives!
When I[48] _Achilles_ heare upon the Stage
Speake Honour and the greatnesse of his soule,
Me thinkes I too could on a _Phrygian_ Speare
Runne boldly and make tales for after times;
But when we come to act it in the deed
Death mars this bravery, and the ugly feares
Of th'other world sit on the proudest browe,
And boasting Valour looseth his red cheeke.

_A Romane to them_.

_Rom_. Fire, fire! helpe, we burne!

2 _Rom_. Fire, water, fire, helpe, fire!