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The False One by Francis Beaumont;John Fletcher
page 33 of 124 (26%)

_Ptol._ Hear me, (Great _Cæsar_.)

_Cæs._ I have heard too much,
And study not with smooth shews to invade
My noble Mind as you have done my Conquest.
Ye are poor and open: I must tell ye roundly,
That Man that could not recompence the Benefits,
The great and bounteous services of _Pompey_,
Can never dote upon the Name of _Cæsar_;
Though I had hated _Pompey_, and allow'd his ruine,
[I gave you no commission to performe it:]
Hasty to please in Blood are seldome trusty;
And but I stand inviron'd with my Victories,
My Fortune never failing to befriend me,
My noble strengths, and friends about my Person,
I durst not try ye, nor expect: a Courtesie,
Above the pious love you shew'd to _Pompey_.
You have found me merciful in arguing with you;
Swords, Hangmen, Fires, Destructions of all natures,
Demolishments of Kingdoms, and whole Ruines
Are wont to be my Orators; turn to tears,
You wretched and poor seeds of Sun-burnt _Egypt_,
And now you have found the nature of a Conquerour,
That you cannot decline with all your flatteries,
That where the day gives light will be himself still,
Know how to meet his Worth with humane Courtesies,
Go, and embalm those bones of that great Souldier;
Howl round about his Pile, fling on your Spices,
Make a _Sabæan_ Bed, and place this Phoenix
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