foot on
But was his conquest; and he gave thee motion.
He triumph'd three times, who durst touch his person?
The very walls of _Rome_ bow'd to his presence,
Dear to the Gods he was, to them that fear'd him
A fair and noble Enemy. Didst thou hate him?
And for thy love to _Caesar_, sought his ruine?
Arm'd in the red _Pharsalian_ fields, _Septimius_,
Where killing was in grace, and wounds were glorious,
Where Kings were fair competitours for honour,
Thou shouldst have come up to him, there have fought him,
There, Sword to Sword.

_Sep._ I kill'd him on commandment,
If Kings commands be fair, when you all fainted,
When none of you durst look--

_Ach._ On deeds so barbarous,
What hast thou got?

_Sep._ The Kings love, and his bounty,
The honour of the service, which though you rail at,
Or a thousand envious souls fling their foams on me,
Will dignifie the cause, and make me glorious:
And I shall live.

_Ach._ A miserable villain,
What reputation, and reward belongs to it
Thus (with the head) I seize on, and make mine;
And be not impudent to ask me why, Sirrah,
Nor bold to stay, read in mine eyes the reason:
The shame and obloquy I leave thine own,
Inherit those rewards, they are fitter for thee,
Your oyl's spent, and your snuff stinks: go out basely.

[_Exit._

_Sep._ The King will yet consider.

_Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus.

_Achil._ Here he comes Sir.

_Ach._ Yet if it be undone: hear me great Sir,
If this inhumane stroak be yet unstrucken,
If that adored head be not yet sever'd
From the most noble Body, weigh the miseries,
The desolations that this great Eclipse works,
You are young, be provident: fix not your Empire
Upon the Tomb of him will shake all _Egypt_,
Whose warlike groans will raise ten thousand Spirits,
(Great as himself) in every hand a thunder;
Destructions darting from their looks, and sorrows
That easy womens eyes shall never empty.

_Pho._ You have done well; and 'tis done, see _Achillas_,
And in his hand the head.

_Ptol._ Stay come no nearer,
Me thinks I feel the very earth shake under me,
I do remember him, he was my guardian,
Appointed by the Senate to preserve me:
What a full Majesty sits in his face yet?

_Pho._ The King is troubled: be not frighted Sir,
Be not abus'd with fears; his death was necessary,
If you consider, Sir, most necessary,
Not to b