--Shoot! shoot!
Of all deaths, the violent death is best;
For from ourselves it steals ourselves so fast,
The pain, once apprehended, is quite past.
[They shoot, and run to him, and tread upon him.
Vit. What, are you dropped?
Flam. I am mix'd with earth already: as you are noble,
Perform your vows, and bravely follow me.
Vit. Whither? to hell?
Zan. To most assur'd damnation?
Vit. Oh, thou most cursed devil!
Zan. Thou art caught----
Vit. In thine own engine. I tread the fire out
That would have been my ruin.
Flam. Will you be perjured? what a religious oath was Styx, that the
gods never durst swear by, and violate! Oh, that we had such an oath
to minister, and to be so well kept in our courts of justice!
Vit. Think whither thou art going.
Zan. And remember
What villainies thou hast acted.
Vit. This thy death
Shall make me, like a blazing ominous star,
Look up and tremble.
Flam. Oh, I am caught with a spring!
Vit. You see the fox comes many times short home;
'Tis here prov'd true.
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