onquerour. [_Exit._

_Caesar_. She mocks me too: I will enjoy her Beauty:
I will not be deni'd; I'le force my longing.
Love is best pleas'd, when roundly we compel him,
And as he is Imperious, so will I be.
Stay fool, and be advis'd: that dulls the appetite,
Takes off the strength and sweetness of delight.
By Heaven she is a miracle, I must use
A handsom way to win: how now; what fear
Dwells in your faces? you look all distracted.

_Enter_ Sceva, Anthony, Dolabella.

_Sceva_. If it be fear, 'tis fear of your undoing,
Not of our selves: fear of your poor declining:
Our lives and deaths are equall benefits,
And we make louder prayers to dye nobly,
Than to live high, and wantonly: whilst you are secure here,
And offer Hecatombs of lazie kisses
To the lewd god of love, and cowardize,
And most lasci[v]iously dye in delights,
You are begirt with the fierce _Alexandrians_.

_Dol._ The spawn of _Egypt_ flow about your Palace,
Arm'd all: and ready to assault.

_Ant._ Led on
By the false and base _Photinus_ and his Ministers;
No stirring out; no peeping through a loop-hole,
But straight saluted with an armed Dart.

_Sce._ No parley: they are deaf to all but danger,
They swear they will fley us, and then dry our Quarters:
A rasher of a salt lover, is such a Shooing-horn:
Can you kiss away this conspiracy, and set us free?
Or will the Giant god of love fight for ye?
Will his fierce war-like bow kill a Cock-sparrow?
Bring out the Lady, she can quel this mutiny:
And with her powerfull looks strike awe into them:
She can destroy, and build again the City,
Your Goddesses have mighty gifts: shew 'em her fair brests,
The impregnable Bulworks of proud Love, and let 'em
Begin their battery there: she will laugh at 'em;
They are not above a hundred thousand, Sir.
A mist, a mist, that when her Eyes break out,
Her powerfull radiant eyes, and shake their flashes,
Will flye before her heats.

_Caesar_. Begirt with Villains?

_S[ce]._ They come to play you, and your Love a Huntsup.
You were told what this same whorson wenching, long agoe would
come to:
You are taken napping now: has not a Souldier,
A time to kiss his friend, and a time to consider,
But he must lye still digging, like a Pioneer,
Making of mines, and burying of his honour there?
'Twere good you would think--

_Dol._ And time too, or you will find