+Des.+ Spoken with the soul of Cassius! We have the cure, And may do it with a little stir. But then We must deal like true physicians of state; And where we find it ulcer'd (though in ourselves, Friends and allies), not lay soft effeminate hands on't. Nature has made us nearest to ourselves: And I would pay the last warm drop of blood From all these veins, to see the hopes and honours of our blood (That's now benighted in our father's fate) Dawn on De Castro's youth again. +De C.+ No, Dessandro; these hopes are lost upon a high And angry sea; and I must see fools and stale Parasites (whose progeny ne'er bled one drop, nor had A valiant thought to serve their country) begin A spurious issue on my birthright, that will on tiptoes, Collossus-like, bestride us, and grasp our fate. +Des.+ Take me into thy bosom, brave man; we meet Like amorous streams, and as we ought; Our honour, life and fortunes have but one heart. Give me thy hand, De Castro. This sword [_Draws._ Our father hath oft made glorious in the blood Of De Castro's foes; and I'll not doubt, How much it prompts thy valiant soul. O brother, tears, and some sad discourse, Is all that we have paid him yet. Strangers Can be far braver in their sense unto his fame. The tears we ought to shed ought to be blood, De Castro! Blood, warm from their veins, that made us weep In streams, and mingle it with the dust of vulgar Feet, as they did his. Swear by all the glorious acts Of our great ancestry, their hallowed urns, Our father's injur'd memory, and all The hopes and honour we derive from them, To pay his blood a sad account in some Revenge, worthy his ghost and our bold hands. +De C.+ All which religiously I vow to. +Des.+ And I. So now we are brothers by as strong Divinity as nature. I'll not break open the Design, till we shall hear't confirm'd by higher warrant: Anon meet at the Duchess-Dowager's. +De C.+ Claudilla's? +Des.+ Yes; where you shall hear something worthy the Encouragement of our father's spirit in thee. I am now to wait upon the duke: he That keeps us what we are. +De C.+ The duke!----I have the game in view, And now discern what I must pay him for my place. +Des.+ You are full of thoughts, my lord! +De C.+ Brother, our lives are on the cast; but 'tis not that Does interpose 'em. There's something in my fears Still presents Cleara. Take heed, Dessandro; A virgin's tears leave sad and fatal prints. +Des.+ Your wishes are a brother's; but those dreams Chill not my sleeps. Think on that concerns us Near, and be active. +De C.+ I shall not fail ye. Farewell! [_Exit +De Castro+._ _Enter +Pirez+._ +Pir.+ Colonel Dessandro! +Des.+ Your lordship's pardon: Which way walk you?