Por. Too long! as if eternity were so.
[Aside.
Ber. Rise, good Porphyrius—since it must be so.
[Aside.
Por. Like hermits from a vision I retire, [Rising.
With eyes too weak to see what I admire. [Aside.
Val. The empress knows your worth; but, sir, there be [To Porphyrius, who kisses her hand.
Those who can value it as high as she. And 'tis but just (since in my father's cause You fought) your valour should have my applause.
Plac. O jealousy, how art thou eagle-eyed! She loves; and would her love in praises hide: How am I bound this rival to pursue, Who ravishes my love and fortune too! [Aside.
[A dead march within, and trumpets.
Max. Somewhat of mournful, sure, my ears does wound; Like the hoarse murmurs of a trumpet's sound, And drums unbraced, with soldiers' broken cries.