SCENE IV.

_The same. The Citadel of Sienna._

_Enter_ FERDINAND, DRUSO, _and_ LIVIO, _on the Walls_.

_Fer._ No aids from Sicily! Hath hope forsook us; And that vain comfort to affliction, pity, By our vow'd friend denied us? we can nor live Nor die with honour: like beasts in a toil, We wait the leisure of the bloody hunter, Who is not so far reconciled unto us, As in one death to give a period To our calamities; but in delaying The fate we cannot fly from, starved with wants, We die this night, to live again to-morrow, And suffer greater torments.

_Dru._ There is not Three days' provision for every soldier, At an ounce of bread a day, left in the city.

_Liv._ To die the beggar's death, with hunger made Anatomies while we live, cannot but crack Our heart-strings with vexation.

_Fer._ Would they would break, Break altogether! How willingly, like Cato, Could I tear out my bowels, rather than Look on the conqueror's insulting face; But that religion, and the horrid dream To be suffer'd in the other world, denies it!

_Enter a Soldier._

What news with thee?

_Sold._ From the turret of the fort, By the rising clouds of dust, through which, like lightning, The splendour of bright arms sometimes brake through, I did descry some forces making towards us; And, from the camp, as emulous of their glory, The general, (for I know him by his horse,) And bravely seconded, encounter'd them. Their greetings were too rough for friends; their swords, And not their tongues, exchanging courtesies. By this the main battalias are join'd; And, if you please to be spectators of The horrid issue, I will bring you where, As in a theatre, you may see their fates In purple gore presented.

_Fer._ Heaven, if yet thou art Appeased for my wrong done to Aurelia, Take pity of my miseries! Lead the way, friend. [_Exeunt._