SCENE II.—The Apartment of Cassandra.
Enter King Ptolemy, Sosibius, with papers, after him.
Ptol. No more of business.
Sosib. Sir, the council waits you.
Ptol. Council! What's that? a pack of bearded slaves,
Grave faces, saucy tongues, and knavish hearts,
That never speak one word, but self's at bottom;
The scavengers that sweep state nuisances,
And are themselves the greatest—I'll no council.