“ For nought to wretches is more sweet than death.
FULVIA. Madam, confirm'd as well to die as live,
Fulvia awaiteth nothing but her death.
Yet had my father known the course of change,
Or seen our loss by lucky augury,
This tyrant nor his followers had liv'd
To 'joy the ruin of fierce Sylla's house.
MARIUS. But, lady, they that dwell on fortune's call
No sooner rise, but subject are to fall.
FULVIA. Marius, I doubt not but our constant ends
Shall make thee wail thy tyrant's government.
MARIUS. When tyrant's rule doth breed my care and woe,
Then will I say two ladies told me so. ”

“ JOHN. I am greedy to hear news.
FAU. Robb'd of my chain, out-faced I had a sword,
Accused of poisoning, cozenage, seeking blood!
Not to be borne! it is intolerable!
RICH. Sir Richard, I prythee, have some patience.
FAU. I'll to Blackheath, talk not of patience;
It is intolerable, not to be borne.
JOHN. It is intolerable, not to be borne;
A warrant, brother; Fauconbridge, a warrant!
FAU. I saw no warrant; I defy you all.
JOHN. A slave, a pursuivant, one Winterborn.
FAU. I care not for thee that, Winterborn.
PUR. O, it is I, sir; that's my warrant.
JOHN. Is't you? you rogue, you drunkard ”

“ KING. I'll pardon thee, dear daughter, but as for
Him——
AMADINE. Ah, father! what of him?
KING. As sure as I am king, and wear the crown,
I will revenge on that accursed wretch.
MUCEDORUS. Yet, worthy prince, work not thy will in wrath:
Show favour.
KING. Ay, such favour as thou deservest.
MUCEDORUS. I do deserve the daughter of a king.
KING. O, impudent! a shepherd and so insolent?
MUCEDORUS. No shepherd [am] I, but a worthy prince.
KING. In fair conceit, not princely born.
MUCEDORUS. Yes, princely born; my father is a king,
My mother queen, and of Valentia both.
KING. What, Mucedorus? ”

“ FAU. Marry, sweet Moll, I say, I met this woman;
Lik'd her, lov'd her;
For she is worthy love, I promise thee.
I say, I courted her: tut, make no brawl,
'Twixt thou and I we'll have amends for all.
ROB. Had I done such a trick, what then? what then?
FAU. Ah prythee, Moll, tut, bear with men.
ROB. Aye, we must bear with you; you'll be excus'd,
When women undeserved are abus'd.
FAU. Nay, do not weep: pardon me, gentle lady;
I know thee virtuous, and I do protest
Never to have an evil thought of thee.
ROB. Aye, aye, ye swear; who's that that will believe ye? ”

“ That treat nought else but pleasure and delight.
If any spark of human rests in thee,
Forbear; begone; tender the suit of me.
ENVY. Why, so I will; forbearance shall be such,
As treble death shall cross thee with despite,
And make thee mourn, where most thou joyest,
Turning thy mirth into a deadly dole:
Whirling thy pleasures with a peal of death,
And drench thy methods in a sea of blood.
This will I do; thus shall I bear with thee;
And, more to vex thee with a deeper spite,
I will with threats of blood begin thy play:
Favouring thee with envy and with hate. ”

“ Marius hath sought for honour with his sword,
And holds disdain to triumph in your falls.
Live, Cornelia: live, fair and fairest Fulvia!
If you have done or wrought me injury,
Sylla shall pay it through his misery.
FULVIA. So gracious, famous consul, are thy words,
That Rome and we shall celebrate thy worth,
And Sylla shall confess himself o'ercome.
CORNELIA. If ladies' prayers or tears may move the heavens,
Sylla shall vow himself old Marius' friend.
MARIUS. Ladies, for that I nought at all regard:
Sylla's my foe, I'll triumph over him;
For other conquest glory doth not win. ”

“ SKINK. Zounds, ye see 'tis I.
GLO. Time sorts not now to know these mysteries.
How thou cam'st by this ring, or stol'st this coat,
They are mine now in possession, for which kindness,
If I escape, I'll get thee liberty,
Or fire the Fleet about the warden's ears.
Mumbudget, not a word, as thou lovest thy life.
SKINK. Ay mum, mum fair, pray God may chance it,
My lord, but that my case is desperate,
I'd see your eyes out, ere I would be cheated.
GLO. Walk like an earl, villain; some are coming.
SCENE THE THIRTEENTH. Enter PRINCE JOHN and PORTER.
JOHN. Where is this Gloster? ”

“ For thee to trample and to trace upon;
And I will teach thee how to kill the deer,
To chase the hart, and how to rouse the roe,
If thou wilt live to love and honour me.
AMADINE. You may; for who but you?
Enter MUCEDORUS.
BREMO. Welcome, sir, an hour ago I look'd for such a guest.
Be merry, wench, we'll have a frolic feast,
Here's flesh enough for to suffice us both,
Say, sirrah, wilt thou fight, or dost thou yield to die?
MUCEDORUS. I want a weapon; how can I fight?
BREMO. Thou want'st a weapon? why, then thou yield'st to die.
MUCEDORUS. I say not so; I do not yield to die. ”

“ Wherein have I been so unkind to thee,
Thou shouldst desire to make my naked house
Yet once again stand desolate by thee?
O, let such fancies vanish with their thoughts:
Tell her I am her father, whose estate,
Wealth, honour, life, and all that we possess,
Wholly relies upon her presence here.
Tell her, I must account her all my joy,
Work as she will: but yet she were unjust
To haste his death, that liveth by her sight.
LUCRECE. Her gentle heart abhors such ruthless thoughts.
TANCRED. Then let her not give place to these desires.
LUCRECE. She craves the right that nature challengeth. ”

“ When as mine honour calls me forth to fight:
Therefore, sweet Anthony, be short for Sylla's haste.
ANTHONY. For Sylla's haste! O, whither wilt thou fly?
Tell me, my Sylla, what dost thou take in hand?
What wars are these thou stirrest up in Rome?
What fire is this is kindled by thy wrath?
A fire that must be quench'd by Romans' blood.
A war that will confound our empery;
And last, an act of foul impiety.
Brute beasts nill break the mutual law of love,
And birds affection will not violate:
The senseless trees have concord 'mongst themselves,
And stones agree in links of amity. ”

“ COOMES. By God, sir, we tickled it.
FRAN. Why, what a swearing keeps this drunken ass?
Canst thou not say but swear at every word?
PHIL. Peace, do not mar his humour, prythee, Frank.
COOMES. Let him alone; he's a springall; he knows not what belongs to an oath.
FRAN. Sirrah, be quiet, or I do protest—
COOMES. Come, come, what do you protest?
FRAN. By heaven, to crack your crown.
COOMES. To crack my crown! I lay ye a crown of that, lay it down, and ye dare; nay, 'sblood, I'll venture a quarter's wages of that. Crack my crown, quotha! ”

“ If they, my Sylla, brook not to have jar,
What then are men, that 'gainst themselves do war?
Thou'lt say, my Sylla, honour stirs thee up;
Is't honour to infringe the laws of Rome?
Thou'lt say, perhaps, the titles thou hast won
It were dishonour for thee to forego;
O, is there any height above the highest,
Or any better than the best of all?
Art thou not consul? art thou not lord of Rome?
What greater titles should our Sylla have?
But thou wilt hence, thou'lt fight with Marius,
The man the senate, ay, and Rome hath chose. ”