Hath with thee pass'd the swelling ocean,
And swept the foaming breast of Arctic[615] Rhene.
Love over-rules my will; I must obey thee,
Cæsar: he whom I hear thy trumpets charge,
I hold no Roman; by these ten blest ensigns
And all thy several triumphs, shouldst thou bid me
Entomb my sword within my brother's bowels,
Or father's throat, or women's groaning[616] womb,
This hand, albeit unwilling, should perform it?
Or rob the gods, or sacred temples fire,380