_Eros_. Doe not: you shall not need.
_Cleo._ Would I were prisoner
To one I hate, that I might anger him,
I will love any man, to break the heart of him:
Any, that has the heart and will to kill him.
_Ars._ Take some fair truce.
_Cleo._ I will goe study mischief,
And put a look on, arm'd with all my cunnings,
Shall meet him like a Basilisque, and strike him:
Love, put destroying flames into mine eyes,
Into my smiles, deceits, that I may torture him,
That I may make him love to death, and laugh at him.
_Enter_ Apollodorus.
_Ap._ _Caesar_ commends his Service to your Grace.
_Cleo._ His service? what's his service?
_Eros_. Pray ye be patient,
The noble _Caesar_ loves still.
_Cleo._ What's his will?
_Ap._ He craves access unto your Highness.
_Cleo._ No:
Say no: I will have none to trouble me.
_Ars._ Good Sister.
_Cleo._ None I say: I will be private.
Would thou hadst flung me into _Nilus_, keeper,
When first thou gav'st consent, to bring my body
To this unthankfull _Caesar_.
_Ap._ 'Twas your will, Madam,
Nay more, your charge upon me, as I honoured ye:
You know what danger I endured.
_Cleo._ Take this,
And carry it to that Lordly _Caesar_ sent thee:
There's a new Love, a handsom one, a rich one:
One that will hug his mind: bid him make love to it:
Tell the ambitious Broker, this will suffer--
_Enter Caesar.
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