SCENE IV.

_The four Kings of Kent march over the stage. A_ _drum struck up within._ Q. ATRIUS _comes with_ CINGETORIX _prisoner_. ROLLANO _running_; VOLUSENUS _meets him_.

ROL. What shall I do? how shall I 'scape? [_Falls for fear._

VOL. I scorn to take advantage; rise and fight.

ROL. I had rather be kill'd quickly, quickly.

VOL. Then die, as thou desirest. [_Thrusts at him._

ROL. O, let me wink first. [_Bawls aloud._ I shall never endure it. O, O, I am pepper'd and salted!

[_Exit_ VOLUSENUS. ROLLANO _crawls away_.

CASSIBELANUS, BELINUS, _&c._

CAS. O, that base fortune should great spirits damp, And fawn on muddy slaves! That envious fate Should ripen villany with a Syrian dew, And blast sweet virtue with a Syrian flame! A catalogue of mischiefs do concur: Our Briton Hector Nennius dead; our kings, Angry to be refus'd, sit still at home; And then those traitors with their train augment His huge and expert army. Nothing stops him: Rivers nor rampiers, woods nor dangerous bogs. On this side Thames his dismal ensigns shine. Last, Kent's unhappy rulers are at sea O'erthrown, and our men almost spent. Then, general, In desperate pride and valour's scornful rage, Let us run headlong through their armed tents, And make their camp a shambles; so to raise Our lofty tombs upon their slaughter'd heaps.

BEL. Nay, rather first let us parley for peace.

CAS. Ye country gods and nymphs, who Albion love: Old father Neptune: all ye powers divine: Witness my loyal care! If human strength, Courage and policy could a kingdom save, We did our best; but discord, child of hell, Numbers of train-men, and each captain pick'd Out of a province, make us bow or break. In vain we strive, when deities do frown; When destinies push, Atlas himself comes down.

_Enter_ COMIUS.

BEL. No mediator is so fit as Comius: And here's the man.

COM. Do not the dangers which Environ you call for a good conclusion? Which I wish, as friend to both sides.

CAS. No, Comius. There is more behind than Cæsar Hath overrun: our charioteers still drive; Our harness still is worn. Through woods and lakes We'll tire his dainty soldiers; then set fire On towns, and sacrifice ourselves, our wives, Our goods and cattle, in one public flame, That wind may blow our ashes in his face.

COM. So shall dead el'ments curse your causeless fury: Rather conclude some friendly peace.

CAS. Thus far we hear you. If with honour'd terms And royal looks he will accept our faith, We will obey, but never serve.

COM. I'll undertake as much. [_Exeunt._