Though one most dear, when all his hopes are dead,
To drown him, set thy foot upon his head.

_Ach._ Most execrable Counsel.

_Pho._ To be follow'd,
'Tis for the Kingdoms safety.

_Ptol._ We give up
Our absolute power to thee: dispose of it
As reason shall direct thee.

_Pho._ Good _Achillas_,
Seek out _Septimius_: do you but sooth him,
He is already wrought: leave the dispatch
To me of _Labienus_: 'tis determin'd
Already how you shall proceed: nor Fate
Shall alter it, since now the dye is cast,
But that this hour to _Pompey_ is his last. [_Exit._



SCENA II.


_Enter_ Apollodorus, Eros, Arsino.

_Apol._ Is the Queen stirring, _Eros_?

_Eros._ Yes, for in truth