_ Good, what follows?
_Sept._ Fall me fairly on their throats,
Their heads cut off and shorn, the multitude
Will easily disperse.
_Caes._ O Devil! away with him;
Nor true to Friend nor Enemy? _Caesar_ scorns
To find his safety, or revenge his wrongs
So base a way; or owe the means of life
To such a leprous Traytor, I have towr'd
For Victory like a Faulcon in the Clouds,
Nor dig'd for't like a Mole; our Swords and Cause
Make way for us, and that it may appear
We took a noble Course, and hate base Treason,
Some Souldiers that would merit _Caesar's_ favour,
Hang him on yonder Turret, and then follow
The lane this Sword makes for you. [_Exit._
_1 Sold._ Here's a Belt,
Though I dye for it I'll use it.
_2 Sold._ 'Tis too good
To truss a Cur in.
_Sept._ Save me, here's Gold.
_1 Sold._ If _Rome_
Were offered for thy ransom, it could not help thee.
_2 Sold._ Hang not an arse.
_1 Sold._ Goad him on with thy Sword;
Thou dost deserve a worser end, and may
All such conclude so, that their friends betray. [_Exeunt._
SCENE IV.
_Enter (severally)_ Arsino, Eros, Cleopatra.
_Ars._ We are lost.
_Eros_. Undone.
_Ars._ Confusion, Fire, and Swords,
And fury in the Souldiers face more horrid
Circle us round.
_Eros_. The Kings Command they laugh at,
And jeer at _Caesars_ threats.
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