Pho. This for our service? Princes do their] And set her countenance in a thousand postures, pleasures, To catch her ends! And they, that serve, obey in all disgraces. There we shall know no difference. Hark, Achillas! I may do something yet, when times are ripe, Achil. Photinus, Whatever it be, I shall make one, and zealously: Pho. Thou lovest me, and I thank thee. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Enter ANTONY, DOLABELLA, and SCEVA. Dol. Nay, there is no rousing him; he is bewitched sure, His noble blood curdled, and cold within him; Grown now a woman's warrior. Ant. Be not too angry, For, by this light, the woman's a rare woman; Dol. But why should he be fooled so? Let her be what she will, why should his wisdom, His age, and honour Ant. Say it were your own case, Or mine, or any man's, that has heat in him: And eves, that are the winningest orators, Sce. I would you had her, With all her oracles, and miracles: She were fitter for your turn. Ant. 'Would I had, Sceva, With all her faults too! let me alone to mend Sce. She will be sick, well, sullen, All in one half-an-hour, to make an ass of him: My soldiers told me, by the weight, it was wicked. 'Would I had carried Milo's bull a furlong, When I brought in this cow-calf! He has advanced me, From an old soldier to a bawd of memory: That their fierce trumpets from his' wanton (Though I were the arrantest rogue, as I'm well forward) Mine own curse and the devil's are lit on me. Sce. Yes. Dol. He that killed Pompey? Sce. The same dog scab; that gilded botch, that rascal! Dol. How glorious villainy appears in Egypt! Sept. Gallants, and soldiers! sure they do ad mire me. Sce. Stand further off; thou stinkest. These cloaths smell mustily, do they not, gal lants? They stink, they stink, alas, poor things, contemptible! By all the Gods in Egypt, the perfumes, Sept. The powdering of this head too- I'll tell thee all the gums in sweet Arabia Are not sufficient, were they burnt about thee, Το purge the scent of a rank rascal from thee. Ant. I smell him now: Fy, how the knave perfumes him! How strong he scents of traitor! Dol. You had an ill milliner, He laid too much of the gum of ingratitude Upon your coat; you should have washed off that, sir; Fy, how it choaks! too little of your loyalty, Sept. Ye are merry, gentlemen, And, by my troth, such harmless mirth takes me too. You speak like good blunt soldiers! and it is well enough: But did you live at court, as I do, gallants, And hunted after him, like foundered beagles, Ant. He brags on't too, By the good gods, rejoices in it! Thou wretch, Thou most contemptible slave! Sce. Dog, mangy mongrel, Thou murdering mischief, in the shape of soldier, Dol. Thou art so impudent, that I admire thee, And know not what to say. Sept. I know your anger, And why you prate thus; I've found your melancholy: Ye all want money, and ye are liberal captains, And in this want will talk a little desperately. Here's gold; come, share; I love a brave com When this light stuff can distinguish, it grows dan gerous; For money, seldom they refuse a leper; Enter three lame Soldiers. It sits cold here. What are these? three poor soldiers? Both poor and lame: Their misery may make them A little look upon me, and adore me. If these will keep me company, I'm made yet. 1 Sold. The pleasure, Cæsar sleeps in, makes us miserable: We are forgot, our maims and dangers laughed at; He banquets, and we beg. 2 Sold. He was not wont To let poor soldiers, that have spent their for tunes, Their bloods, and limbs, walk up and down like vagabonds. Sept. Save ye, good soldiers! good poor men, heaven help ye! Yehave borne the brunt of war, and shew the story. 1 Sold. Some new commander, sure. Sept. You look, my good friends, By your thin faces, as you would be suitors. 2 Sold. To Cæsar, for our means, sir. Sept. And 'tis fit, sir. 3 Sold. We are poor men, and long forgot. Sept. I grieve for it; Good soldiers should have good rewards, and fa vours. I'll give up your petitions, for I pity you, All. Oh, we honour you! 1 Sold. A good man sure you are; the gods preserve you! Sept. And to relieve your wants the while, hold, soldiers! [Gives money. Nay, 'tis no dream; 'tis good gold; take it freely; Twill keep you in good heart. 2 Sold. Now goodness quit you! Sept. I'll be a friend to your afflictions, And eat, and drink with you too, and we'll be merry; And every day I'll see you! 1 Sold. You are a soldier, And one sent from the gods, I think. Ye are lame, and then provide good lodging for you; And at my table, where no want shall meet you. Enter SCEVA. All. Was never such a man! 1 Sold. Dear honoured sir, own thee, But as a monstrous birth shun thy base memory! 3 Sold. Methinks the ground shakes to devour this rascal, And the kind air turns into fogs and vapours, The hangman will not keep thee company; Will eat thy bread, nor one, for thirst starved, drink with thee! 2 Sold. Thou art no company for an honest dog, And so we'll leave thee to a ditch, thy destiny. [Exeunt. Sept. Contemned of all? and kicked too? Now I find it! My valour's fled, too, with mine honesty; I am afraid the very beasts will tear me; Inspired with what I have done, the winds will blast me! Now I am paid, and my reward dwells in me, SCENE III. [Exit. Enter PTOLOMY, ACHOREUS, PHOTINUS, and ACHILLAS. Ptol. I have commanded, and it shall be so! A preparation I have set on foot, Worthy the friendship and the fame of Cæsar: Let us but know your name, that we may worship My sister's favours shall seem poor and withered; Nay, she herself, trimmed up in all her beauties, Compared to what I'll take his eyes withal, Shall be a dream. Pho. Do you mean to shew the glory And wealth of Egypt? Ptol. Yes; and in that lustre, Rome shall appear, in all her famous conquests, And all her riches, of no note unto it. Achor. Now you are reconciled to your fair | We owe for all this wealth to the old Nilus: Music.-Enter Isis, and three Labourers. And give his proud heads leave to play: Labourers. Come, let us help the reverend Nile; Come, old father, come away! Isis. Here comes the aged River now, All things take life, and all things grow. Cæsar. The wonder of this wealth so troubles me, I am not well: Good night! Sce. I'm glad you have it: Now we shall stir again. Dol. Thou wealth, still haunt him! Sce. A greedy spirit set thee on! We're happy. I shall yet find a time to tell thee, Cæsar, Music, and sacrifice to sleep, for Cæsar. [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I. Enter PTOLOMY, PHOTINUS, ACHILLAS, and ACHOREUS. Achor. Where was his mind the whilst? To shew an armed thief the way to rob you? Achor. I TOLD you carefully, what this would To seek the rest: Ambition feels no gift, prove to, What this inestimable wealth and glory Pho. I was not heard, sir, you, Or, what I said, lost and contemned: I dare say, But fixed his constant eyes upon the treasure: With objects, that would make their own still labour. Pho. Your sister he ne'er gazed on; that's a main note: The prime beauty of the world had no power over him. VOL. I. Nor knows no bounds; indeed you have done most weakly. Ptol. Can I be too kind to my noble friend? Pho. To be unkind unto your noble self, but savours Of indiscretion; and your friend has found it. Had you been trained up in the wants and miseries A soldier marches through, and known his temperance In offered courtesies, you would have made Ptol. Why, should I give him all, he would re turn it: 'Tis more to him to make kings. Pho. Pray be wiser, And trust not, with your lost wealth, your loved liberty: To be a king still at your own discretion, Achil. Twill be too late else: For, since the masque, he sent three of his captains, Ambitious as himself, to view again Pho. The next himself comes, K |