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PORTIA.

No; go not, child:

'Twill frighten thee; it is a horrid sight.

PAGE.

Yet, an it please you, lady, let me go.

PORTIA.

I say it is a horrid, piteous sight,

Thou wilt be frighten'd at it.

PAGE.

Nay, be it e'er so piteous or so horrid,

I have a longing, strong desire to see it.

PORTIA.

Go then; there is in this no affectation:

There's all the harden'd cruelty of man
Lodged in that tiny form, child as thou art.
[Exeunt, severally.

SCENE II.

An Open Square, with Buildings.

Enter Cordenius Maro, at the head of his Soldiers, who draw up on either Side; then enters a long Procession of public Functionaries, &c. conducting Martyrs to the Place of Execution, who, as they pass on, sing together in unison: one more noble than the others walking first.

SONG.

A long farewell to sin and sorrow,
    To beam of day and evening shade;
High in glory breaks our morrow,
    With light that cannot fade.