An Idol, but a cold one to your heat
Promethean, and unkindled by your torch.
Arn. Slave!
Cæs.In the victor's Chariot, when Rome triumphed,90
There was a Slave of yore to tell him truth!
You are a Conqueror—command your Slave.
Arn. Teach me the way to win the woman's love.
Cæs. Leave her.
Arn.Where that the path—I'd not pursue it.
Cæs. No doubt! for if you did, the remedy