e deserv'd for keeping thy hands innocent.

_Caesar._ Oh _Sceva, Sceva_, see that head: see Captains,
The head of godlike _Pompey_.

_Sceva._ He was basely ruin'd,
But let the Gods be griev'd that suffer'd it,
And be you Caesar--

_Caesar._ Oh thou Conquerour,
Thou glory of the world once, now the pity:
Thou awe of Nations, wherefore didst thou fall thus?
What poor fate follow'd thee, and pluckt thee on
To trust thy sacred life to an _Egyptian_;
The life and light of _Rome_, to a blind stranger,
That honorable war ne'r taught a nobleness,
Nor worthy circumstance shew'd what a man was,
That never heard thy name sung, but in banquets;
And loose lascivious pleasures? to a Boy,
That had no faith to comprehend thy greatness,
No study of thy life to know thy goodness;
And leave thy Nation, nay, thy noble friend,
Leave him (distrusted) that in tears falls with thee?
(In soft relenting tears) hear me (great _Pompey_)
(If thy great spirit can hear) I must task thee:
Thou hast most unnobly rob'd me of my victory,
My love, and mercy.

_Ant._ O how brave these tears shew!
How excellent is sorrow in an Enemy!

_Dol._ Glory appears not greater than this goodness.

_Caesar._ _Egyptians_, dare you think your high _Pyramides_,
Built to out-dare the Sun, as you suppose,
Where your unworthy Kings lye rak'd in ashes,
Are monuments fit for him? no, (brood of _Nilus_)
Nothing can cover his high fame, but Heaven;
No _Pyramides_ set off his memories,
But the eternal substance of his greatness
To which I leave him: take the head away,
And (with the body) give it noble burial,
Your Earth shall now be bless'd to hold a _Roman_,
Whose braverys all the worlds-Earth cannot ballance.

_Sce._ If thou bee'st thus loving, I shall honour thee,
But great men may dissemble, 'tis held possible,
And be right glad of what they seem to weep for,
There are such kind of Philosophers; now do I wonder
How he would look if _Pompey_ were alive again,
But how he would set his face?

_Caesar._ You look now, King,
And you that have been Agents in this glory,
For our especial favour?

_Ptol._ We desire it.

_Caesar._ And doubtless you expect rewards.

_Sceva_. Let me give 'em:
I'le give 'em such as nature never dreamt of,
I'le beat him and his Agents (in a morter)
Into one man, and that one man I'le bake then.

_Caesar_. Peace: I forgive