_
_Caesar_. What rich Service!
What mines of treasure!
_Cleo._ My _Caesar_,
What do you admire? pray ye turn, and let me talk to ye.
Have ye forgot me Sir? how, a new object?
Am I grown old o'th' sudden, _Caesar_?
_Caesar_. Tell me
From whence comes all this wealth?
_Cleo._ Is your eye that way?
And all my Beauties banisht?
_Ptol._ I'le tell thee _Caesar_,
We owe for all this wealth to the old _Nilus_:
We need no dropping rain to cheer the husband-man,
Nor Merchant that ploughs up the Sea, to seek us;
Within the wealthy womb of reverent _Nilus_,
All this is nourish'd: who to do thee honour,
Comes to discover his seven Deities,
(His conceal'd heads) unto thee: see with pleasure.
_Caesar_. The matchless wealth of this Land!
_Cleo._ Come, ye shall hear me.
_Caesar_. Away: let me imagine.
_Cleo._ How? frown on me?
The eyes of _Caesar_ wrapt in storms?
_Caesar_. I am sorry:
But let me think--
_MUSTEK, SONG._
_Enter_ Isis, _and three Labourers._
_Isis, the Goddess of this Land,_
_Bids thee (great Caesar) understand_
_And mark our Customes, and first know,_
_With greedy eyes these watch the flow_
_Of plenteous Nilus: when he comes,_
_With Songs, with Daunces, Timbrels, Drums_
_They entertain him, cut his way,_
_And give his proud Heads leave to play:_
_Nilus himself shall rise, and show_
_His matchless wealth in Over-flow.
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