Should I say,—Hold!—nay, should I only frown,
They could not bear my eyes; but, awed and mastered,
Like lions to their keepers, would couch and fawn,
And disobey their hunger.
Ptol. Wondrous man! [Embraces him.
How I admire thy virtue!
Cas. And his genius.
Some are born kings,
Made up of three parts fire, so full of heaven,
It sparkles at their eyes. Inferior souls