Emp. They are wise, beholding
What you think scorn to look on, the Courts bravery:
Would you have run away so slily Lady,
And not have seen me?
Luci. I beseech your Majestie,
Consider what I am, and whose.
Emp. I do so.
Luci. Believe me, I shall never make a whore Sir.
Emp. A friend ye may, and to that man that loves ye,
More than you love your vertue.
Luci. Sacred Cæsar.
Emp. You shall not kneel to me sweet.
Luci. Look upon me,
And if ye be so cruel to abuse me,
Think how the Gods will take it; does this beauty
Afflict your soul? I'le hide it from you ever,
Nay more, I will become so leprous,
That ye shall curse me from ye: My dear Lord
Has serv'd ye ever truly, fought your Battels,
As if he daily long'd to dye for Cæsar,
Was never Traytor Sir, nor never tainted
In all the actions of his life.
Emp. I know it.
Luci. His fame and family have grown together,
And spred together like to sailing Cedars,
Over the Roman Diadem; O let not,
As ye have any flesh that's humane in you,
The having of a modest wife decline him,
Let not my vertue be the wedge to break him.
I do not think ye are lascivious,
These wanton men belye ye, you are Cæsar,
Which is the Father of the Empires honour,
Ye are too near the nature of the Gods,
To wrong the weakest of all creatures, women.