Now this head's off.
Cæsar. Ha?
Pho. Do not shun me, Cæsar,
From kingly Ptolomy I bring this present,
The Crown, and sweat of thy Pharsalian labour:
The goal and mark of high ambitious honour.
Before thy victory had no name, Cæsar,
Thy travel and thy loss of blood, no recompence,
Thou dreamst of being worthy, and of war;
And all thy furious conflicts were but slumbers,