_Achil._ I will undertake For _Ptolomy_. _Sep._ _Cæsar_ shall be my task, And as in _Pompey_ I began a name I'le perfect it in _Cæsar_. _Enter (above)_ Cæsar, Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus, Antony, Dolabella. _Pho._ 'Tis resolv'd then, We'll force our passage. _Achil._ See, they do appear As they desir'd a Parley. _Pho._ I am proud yet I have brought 'em to capitulate. _Ptol._ Now, _Photinus_? _Pho._ Now, _Ptolomy_? _Ptol._ No addition? _Pho._ We are equal, Though _Cæsars_ name were put into the scale, In which our worth is weigh'd. _Cæs._ Presumptuous Villain, Upon what grounds hast thou presum'd to raise Thy servile hand against the King, or me, That have a greater name? _Pho._ On those, by which Thou didst presume to pass the _Rubicon_ Against the Laws of _Rome_; and at the name Of Traitor smile; as thou didst when _Marcellus_, The Consul, with the _Senates_ full consent Pronounc'd thee for an Enemy to thy Country, Yet thou wentst on, and thy rebellious Cause Was crown'd with fair success: Why should we fear then? Think on that, _Cæsar_. _Cæs._ 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.