Crysus. Then give me a talent.
Alexander. It is not for a beggar to ask a talent. Away!
The charm of the play lies in the romance of Apelles' love for Campaspe, and in the delicacy of his wooing. Here is pure Romantic Comedy, such as Greene imitated and Shakespeare made delightful. Not at first will Campaspe yield the gates of her heart, nor does the artist press the attack with heated fervour. So gentle a besieger is he, that we perceive the young couple drifting into love on the stream of destiny, almost reluctant to betray their growing feelings through fear of the wrath of Alexander. Apelles is already smitten but Campaspe is still 'fancy free' when, in the artist's studio, she questions him about his pictures.
Campaspe. What counterfeit is this, Apelles?
Apelles. This is Venus, the Goddess of love.
Campaspe. What, be there also loving Goddesses?
Apelles. This is she that hath power to command the very affections of the heart.
Campaspe. How is she hired? by prayer, by sacrifice, or bribes?
Apelles. By prayer, sacrifice, and bribes.
Campaspe. What prayer?