_Flav_. Or shall we feare
To trust unto the Gods so good a cause?

_Lucan_. By this we may ourselves Heavens favour promise
Because all noblenesse and worth on earth
We see's on our side. Here the _Fabys_ sonne,
Here the _Corvini_ are and take that part
There noble Fathers would, if now they liv'd.
There's not a soule that claimes Nobilitie,
Either by his or his forefathers merit,
But is with us; with us the gallant youth
Whom passed dangers or hote bloud makes bould;
Staid men suspect their wisdome or their faith
To whom our counsels we have not reveald;
And while (our party seeking to disgrace)
They traitors call us, each man treason praiseth
And hateth faith when _Piso_ is a traitor.

_Scevin_. And,[69] at adventure, what by stoutnesse can
Befall us worse than will by cowardise?
If both the people and the souldier failde us
Yet shall we die at least worthy our selves,
Worthy our ancestors. O _Piso_ thinke,
Thinke on that day when in the _Parthian_ fields
Thou cryedst to th'flying Legions to turne
And looke Death in the face; he was not grim
But faire and lovely when he came in armes.
O why there di'd we not on _Syrian_ swords?
Were we reserv'd to prisons and to chaines?