_Ptol._ Ye judge amiss, and far too wide to alter me, Yet all be ready, as I gave direction: The secret way of all our wealth appearing Newly, and handsomely: and all about it: No more disswading: 'tis my will. _Ach._ I grieve for't. _Ptol._ I will dazel _Cæsar_, with excess of glory. _Pho._ I fear you'l curse your will, we must obey ye. [_Exit._ SCENA IV. _Enter_ Cæsar, Antony, Dolabella, Sceva, _above._ _Cæsar_. I wonder at the glory of this Kingdom, And the most bounteous preparation, Still as I pass, they court me with. _Sceva_. I'le tell ye: In _Gaul_, and _Germany_, we saw such visions, And stood not to admire 'em, but possess 'em: When they are ours, they are worth our admiration. _Enter_ Cleopatra. _Ant._ The young Queen comes: give room. _Cæsar_. Welcom (my dearest) Come bless my side. _Sceva_. I marry: here's a wonder, As she appears now, I am no true Souldier, If I be not readie to recant. _Cleo._ Be merry Sir, My Brother will be proud to do you honour That now appears himself. _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Achillas, Photinus, Apollodorus. _Pto._ Haile to great _Cæsar_ My Royal Guest, first I will feast thine eyes With wealthy _Ægypts_ store, and then thy palate, And wait my self upon thee. [_Treasure brought in._ _Cæsar_. What rich Service! What mines of treasure! _Cleo._ My _Cæsar_, What do you admire? pray ye turn, and let me talk to ye. Have ye forgot me Sir? how, a new object? Am I grown old o'th' sudden, _Cæsar_? _Cæsar_. Tell me From whence comes all this wealth? _Cleo._ Is your eye that way? And all my Beauties banisht? _Ptol._ I'le tell thee _Cæsar_, We owe for all this wealth to the old _Nilus_: We need no dropping rain to cheer the husband-man, Nor Merchant that ploughs up the Sea, to seek us; Within the wealthy womb of reverent _Nilus_, All this is nourish'd: who to do thee honour, Comes to discover his seven Deities, (His conceal'd heads) unto thee: see with pleasure. _Cæsar_. The matchless wealth of this Land! _Cleo._ Come, ye shall hear me. _Cæsar_. Away: let me imagine. _Cleo._ How? frown on me? The eyes of _Cæsar_ wrapt in storms? _Cæsar_. I am sorry: But let me think-- _MUSTEK, SONG._ _Enter_ Isis, _and three Labourers._ _Isis, the Goddess of this Land,_ _Bids thee (great Cæsar) understand_ _And mark our Customes, and first know,_ _With greedy eyes these watch the flow_ _Of plenteous Nilus: when he comes,_ _With Songs, with Daunces, Timbrels, Drums_ _They entertain him, cut his way,_ _And give his proud Heads leave to play:_ _Nilus himself shall rise, and show_ _His matchless wealth in Over-flow._ _LABOURERS SONG._