Alex. You lay your colours grosly.[973] Though I could not paint in your shop, I can spie into your excuse. Be not ashamed, Apelles; 95 it is a gentlemans sport to be in love. [To the Page.] Call hither Campaspe. [Exit Page.] Methinkes[974] I might have beene made privie to your affection: though my counsell had not bin necessary, yet my countenance might have beene thought requisite. But Apelles, forsooth, loveth under hand; yea, and under Alexanders 100 nose, and—but I say no more!
Apel. Apelles loveth not so; but hee liveth to doe as Alexander will.
[Re-enter Page with Campaspe.]
Alex. Campaspe, here is newes. Apelles is in love with you.
Camp. It pleaseth your Majestie to say so. 105
Alex. [aside]. Hephestion, I will trie her too.—Campaspe, for the good qualities I know in Apelles and the vertue I see in you, I am determined you shall enjoy one another. How say you, Campaspe, would you say, "I?"
Camp. Your hand-maid must obey if you command. 110
Alex. [aside]. Thinke you not, Hephestion, that she would faine be commanded.
Hep. [aside]. I am no thought-catcher, but I ghesse unhappily.[975]
Alex. I will not enforce marriage where I cannot compell love.