_Cleo._ Yes, _Arsino_, And with a Masculine Constancy deride Fortunes worst malice, as a Servant to My Vertues, not a Mistress; then we forsake The strong Fort of our selves, when we once yield, Or shrink at her assaults; I am still my self, And though disrob'd of Soveraignty, and ravish'd Of ceremonious duty, that attends it, Nay, grant they had slav'd my Body, my free mind Like to the Palm-tree walling fruitful _Nile_, Shall grow up straighter and enlarge it self 'Spight of the envious weight that loads it with: Think of thy Birth (_Arsino_) common burdens Fit common Shoulders; teach the multitude By suffering nobly what they fear to touch at; The greatness of thy mind does soar a pitch, Their dim eyes (darkened by their narrow souls) Cannot arrive at. _Ars._ I am new created, And owe this second being to you (best Sister) For now I feel you have infus'd into me Part of your fortitude. _Eros_. I still am fearful; I dare not tell a lie; you that were born Daughters and Sisters unto Kings, may nourish Great thoughts, which I, that am your humble handmaid Must not presume to rival. _Cleo._ Yet (my _Eros_) Though thou hast profited nothing by observing The whole course of my life, learn in my death, Though not to equal, yet to imitate Thy fearless Mistress. _Enter_ Photinus. _Eros_. O, a man in Arms! His Weapon drawn too? _Cleo._ Though upon the point Death sate, I'll meet it, and outdare the danger. _Pho._ Keep the Watch strong, and guard the passage sure That leads unto the Sea. _Cleo._ What Sea of rudeness Breaks in upon us? or what Subjects Breath Dare raise a storm, when we command a calm? Are Duty and Obedience fled to Heaven? And in their room ambition and pride Sent into _Egypt_? That Face speaks thee, _Photinus_, A thing thy Mother brought into the World; My Brother's and my Slave: but thy behaviour, Oppos'd to that, an insolent intruder Upon that Soveraignty thou shouldst bow to. If in the Gulph of base ingratitude, All loyalty to _Ptolomy_ the King Be swallowed up, remember who I am, Whose Daughter and whose Sister; or suppose That is forgot too; let the name of _Cæsar_ Which Nations quake at, stop the desperate madness From running headlong on to thy Confusion. Throw from thee quickly those rebellious Arms, And let me read submission in thine Eyes; Thy wrongs to us we will not only pardon, But be a ready advocate to plead for thee To _Cæsar_, and my Brother. _Pho._ Plead my Pardon? To you I bow, but scorn as much to stoop thus To _Ptolomy_ or _Cæsar_, Nay, the gods, As to put off the figure of a man, And change my Essence with a sensual Beast; All my designs, my counsels, and dark ends Were aim'd to purchase you. _Cleo._ How durst thou, being The scorn of baseness, nourish such a thought?