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.

Caes. That Fortune, Which to this hour hath been a Friend to Caesar, Though for a while she cloath her Brow with frowns, Will smile again upon me:  who will pay her, Or sacrifice, or Vows, if she forsake Her best of works in me? or suffer him, Whom with a strong hand she hath led triumphant Through the whole western world, and Rome acknowledg’d Her Soveraign Lord, to end in-gloriously A life admir’d by all?  The threatned danger Must by a way more horrid be avoided, And I will run the hazard; Fire the Palace, And the rich Magazines that neighbour it, In which the Wealth of Egypt is contain’d:  Start not, it shall be so; that while the people Labour in quenching the ensuing flames, Like Caesar, with this handful of my friends Through Fire, and Swords I force a passage to My conquering Legions.  King, if thou dar’d follow Where Caesar leads, or live or dye a Free-man; If not, stay here a Bond-man to thy Slave, And dead, be thought unworthy of a Grave. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

    Enter Septimius.

Sept. I feel my resolution melts again And that I am not Knave alone, but fool, In all my purposes.  The Devil, Photinus, Employs me as a Property, and grown useless Will shake me off again; he told me so When I kill’d Pompey; nor can I hope better, When Caesar is dispatch’d; Services done For such as only study their own ends, Too great to be rewarded, are return’d With deadly hate; I learn’d this Principle In his own School, yet still he fools me, well; And yet he trusts me:  Since I in my nature Was fashion’d to be false, wherefore should I That kill’d my General, and a Roman, one To whom I ow’d all nourishments of life, Be true to an Egyptian?  To save Caesar, And turn Photinus’s plots on his own head, As it is in my power, redeem my credit, And live to lye and swear again in fashion, Oh, ’twere a master-piece! ha!—­me Caesar, How’s he got off?

    Enter Caesar, Ptolomy, Antony, Dolabella, Achoreus,
    Apollodorus, Souldiers.

Caes. The fire has took, And shews the City like a second Troy, The Navy too is scorch’d, the people greedy To save their Wealth and Houses, whilst their Souldiers Make spoil of all; only Achillas’s Troops Make good their Guard, break through them, we are safe; I’ll lead you like a Thunder-bolt.

  Sept. Stay, Caesar.