Behold the Galley-asses in every street;
And even now they come to clap on yrons.
Must _Pisoes_ head be shewed upon a pole?
Those members torne, rather then _Roman_-like
And _Piso_-like with weapons in our hands
Fighting in throng of enemies to die?
And that it shall not be a civill warre
_Nero_ prevents, whose cruelty hath left
Few Citizens; we are not Romans now
But Moores, and Jewes, and utmost Spaniards,
And _Asiaes_ refuse[70] that doe fill the Citie.

_Piso_. Part of us are already tak'n; the rest
Amaz'd and seeking holes. Our hidden ends
You see laid open; Court and Citie arm'd
And for feare ioyning to the part they feare.
Why should we move desperate and hopelesse armes
And vainely spill that noble bloud that should
Christall _Rubes_[71] and the _Median_ fields,
Not _Tiber_ colour? And the more your show be,
Your loves and readinesse to loose your lives,
The lother I am to adventure them.
Yet am I proud you would for me have dy'd;
But live, and keepe your selves to worthier ends.
No Mother but my owne shall weepe my death
Nor will I make, by overthrowing us,
Heaven guiltie of more faults yet; from the hopes
Your owne good wishes rather then the thing
Doe make you see, this comfort I receive
Of death unforst. O friends I would not die