A faithful ancient friend; thy Portia's father!
At Nero's footstool she is pleading for thee,
And will not plead in vain, if thou wilt testify
A yielding mind, a willingness to live.
CORDENIUS.
In dying for the pure and holy truth,
That nature's instinct seems in me extinguish'd.
But if the Emperor freely pardon me,
I shall believe it is the will of God
That I should yet on earth promote his service,
And, so believing, am content to live;
Living or dying to his will resign'd.
Enter Portia on the front, and catching hold of Cordenius with eagerness and great agitation.
PORTIA.
If thou wilt only say thou art a Roman,
In heart and faith, as all thy fathers were,
Or but forbear to say thou art a Christian.
CORDENIUS.
Even to be spent in want and contumely,
Rather than grieve thy kind and tender heart,
My dearest, gentlest friend! I had accepted:
But to deny my God, and put dishonour
Upon the noblest, most exalted faith
That ever was to human thoughts reveal'd,
Is what I will not—yea, and though a Roman,
