_Cleo._ To prevent thee,
In that I am the Mistress of my Fate;
So hope I of my sister to confirm it.
I spit at thee, and scorn thee.
_Pho._ I will tame
That haughty courage, and make thee stoop too.
_Cleo._ Never,
I was born to command, and will dye so.
_Enter_ Achillas, _and Souldiers, with the Body of_ Ptolomy.
_Pho._ The King dead? this is a fair entrance to
Our future happiness.
_Ars._ Oh my dear Brother!
_Cleo._ Weep not, _Arsino_, common women do so,
Nor lose a tear for him, it cannot help him;
But study to dye nobly.
_Pho._ _Caesar_ fled!
'Tis deadly aconite to my cold heart,
It choaks my vital Spirits: where was your care?
Did the Guards sleep?
_Achil._ He rowz'd them with his Sword;
We talk of _Mars_, but I am sure his Courage
Admits of no comparison but it self,
And (as inspir'd by him) his following friends
With such a confidence as young Eagles prey
Under the large wing of their fiercer Dam,
Brake through our Troops and scatter'd them, he went on
But still pursu'd by us, when on the sudden,
He turn'd his head, and from his Eyes flew terrour;
Which strook in us no less fear and amazement,
Than if we had encounter'd with the lightning
Hurl'd from _Jove's_ cloudy Brow.
_Cleo._ 'Twas like my _Caesar_.
_Achil._ We faln back, he made on, and as our fear
Had parted from us with his dreadful looks,
Again we follow'd; but got near the Sea;
On which his Navy anchor'd; in one hand
Holding a Scroll he had above the waves,
And in the other grasping fast his Sword,
As it had been a Trident forg'd by _Vulcan_
To calm the raging Ocean, he made away
As if he had been _Neptune_, his friends like
So many _Tritons_ follow'd, their bold shouts
Yielding a chearful musick; we showr'd darts
Upon them, but in vain, they reach'd their ships
And in their safety we are sunk; for _Caesar_
Prepares for War.
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