_Caes._ O the gods! be brav'd thus,
And be compell'd to bear this from a Slave
That would not brook Great _Pompey_ his Superiour?
_Achil._ Thy glories now have toucht the highest point,
And must descend.
_Pho._ Despair, and think we stand
The Champions of _Rome_, to wreak her wrongs,
Upon whose liberty thou hast set thy foot.
_Sept._ And that the Ghosts of all those noble _Romans_
That by thy Sword fell in this Civil War
Expect revenge.
_Ant._ Dar'st thou speak, and remember
There was a _Pompey_?
_Pho._ There is no hope to 'scape us:
If that against the odds we have upon you
You dare come forth, and fight, receive the honour
To dye like _Romans_, if ye faint, resolve
To starve like Wretches; I disdain to change
Another syllable with you. [_Exeunt._
_Ant._ Let us dye nobly;
And rather fall upon each others Sword
Than come into these Villains hands.
_Caes._ That Fortune,
Which to this hour hath been a Friend to _Caesar_,
Though for a while she cloath her Brow with frowns,
Will smile again upon me: who will pay her,
Or sacrifice, or Vows, if she forsake
Her best of works in me? or suffer him,
Whom with a strong hand she hath led triumphant
Through the whole western world, and _Rome_ acknowledg'd
Her Soveraign Lord, to end in-gloriously
A life admir'd by all? The threatned danger
Must by a way more horrid be avoided,
And I will run the hazard; Fire the Palace,
And the rich Magazines that neighbour it,
In which the Wealth of _Egypt_ is contain'd:
Start not, it shall be so; that while the people
Labour in quenching the ensuing flames,
Like Caesar, with this handful of my friends
Through Fire, and Swords I force a passage to
My conquering Legions.
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