Arria and Petus, out of Martial: A Paraphrase

WITH Roman constancy and decent pride
The dying Matron from her wounded side
Drawing forth the guilty blade
To her lov'd Lord the fatal gift convey'd
But then in streams of blood and sorrow drown'd
Pardon she crys an unbecoming Tear
(The Womans weakness will appear)
Yet think not tis that I repent the Deed
Or that my firm resolves give ground
Witness just Heav'n 'tis nothing that I bleed
But that You must, there Petus, there's the Wound.