Enter Ptolomy, Achoreus, Achillas, Photinus, Apollodorus.
Pto. Haile to great Caesar My Royal Guest, first I will feast thine eyes With wealthy AEgypts store, and then thy palate, And wait my self upon thee. [Treasure brought in.
Caesar. What rich Service!
What mines of treasure!
Cleo. My Caesar, 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, Caesar?
Caesar. Tell me
From whence comes all this wealth?
Cleo. Is your eye that way?
And all my Beauties banisht?
Ptol. I’le tell thee Caesar, 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.
Caesar. The matchless wealth of this Land!
Cleo. Come, ye shall hear me.
Caesar. Away: let me imagine.
Cleo. How? frown on me?
The eyes of Caesar wrapt in storms?
Caesar. I am sorry:
But let me think—
Enter Isis, and three Labourers.
Isis, the Goddess of this
Bids thee (great Caesar) 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.
Come let us help the reverend Nile, He’s very old (alas the while) Let us dig him easie wayes, And prepare a thousand Playes: To delight his streams let’s sing A loud welcom to our Spring. This way let his curling Heads Fall into our new made Beds. This way let his wanton spawns, Frisky and glide it o’re the Lawns. This way profit comes, and gain: How he tumbles here amain! How his waters haste to fall Into our Channels! Labour all And let him in: Let Nilus flow, And perpetuall plenty show. With Incense let us bless the brim, And as the wanton fishes swim, Let us Gums, and Garlands fling, And loud our Timbrels ring. Come (old Father) come away, Our labour is our holy day.