That make me a blood-cousin to the boar——
Herod.
The look of my own face will I forget
Sooner than his who’s served me trustily.
When I was brigand-hunting in your land,
My sharpest sleuth-hound you! Why come you now?
Zer. (pointing to his son).
Small cause enough. This Philo here’s my son.
Soldiers you need, and I—well none need I.
This one’s a Roman. By some oversight