You are young, be provident: fix not your Empire
Upon the Tomb of him will shake all Egypt,
Whose warlike groans will raise ten thousand Spirits,
(Great as himself) in every hand a thunder;
Destructions darting from their looks, and sorrows
That easy womens eyes shall never empty.
Pho. You have done well; and 'tis done, see Achillas,
And in his hand the head.
Ptol. Stay come no nearer,
Me thinks I feel the very earth shake under me,