Is not victorious _Caesar_ new arriv'd,
And enter'd _Alexandria_, with his friends,
His _Navy_ riding by to wait his charges?
Did he not beat this _Pompey_, and pursu'd him?
Was not this great man, his great enemy?
This Godlike vertuous man, as people held him,
But what fool dare be friend to flying vertue?
_Enter_ Caesar, Anthony, Dolabella, Sceva.
I hear their Trumpets, 'tis too late to stagger,
Give me the head, and be you confident:
Hail Conquerour, and head of all the world,
Now this head's off.
_Caesar_. Ha?
_Pho._ Do not shun me, _Caesar_,
From kingly _Ptolomy_ I bring this present,
The Crown, and sweat of thy _Pharsalian_ labour:
The goal and mark of high ambitious honour.
Before thy victory had no name, _Caesar_,
Thy travel and thy loss of blood, no recompence,
Thou dreamst of being worthy, and of war;
And all thy furious conflicts were but slumbers,
Here they take life: here they inherit honour,
Grow fixt, and shoot up everlasting triumphs:
Take it, and look upon thy humble servant,
With noble eyes look on the Princely _Ptolomy_,
That offers with this head (most mighty _Caesar_)
What thou would'st once have given for it, all _Egypt_.
_Ach._ Nor do not question it (most royal Conquerour)
Nor dis-esteem the benefit that meets thee,
Because 'tis easily got, it comes the safer:
Yet let me tell thee (most imperious _Caesar_)
Though he oppos'd no strength of Swords to win this,
Nor labour'd through no showres of darts, and lances:
Yet here he found a fort, that faced him strongly,
An inward war: he was his Grand-sires Guest;
Friend to his Father, and when he was expell'd
And beaten from this Kingdom by strong hand,
And had none left him, to restore his honour,
No hope to find a friend, in such a misery;
Then in stept _Pompey_; took his feeble fortune:
Strengthen'd, and cherish'd it, and set it right again,
This was a love to _Caesar_.
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