SCENE V.

ANDROGEUS, TENANTIUS.

AND. Thus civil war by me and factious broils Deface this goodly land: I am reveng'd; The cause (Eulinus) dead, my anger dies. He is our uncle, and in danger's mouth; Both claim relenting pity. Whom peace made A rampant lion, war hath made a lamb. Cæsar shall not proceed, for private ends, To captivate our isle, whose clamorous curse Doth knock, I know, at heaven's star-nail'd gates: For that Jove's bird, imp'd[344] with our plumes, o'erflew The ocean's wall, to seek her prey in Britain.

TEN. Ay, we have made a rod for our own backs: Fetters of gold are fetters. No gap worse To let destruction in by, than to call A foreign aid who, having seen our weakness, And tasted once the fatness of our land, Is not so easily thrust out as admitted. Such medicine is worse than the malady: Fretting the bowels of our kingdom.

AND. I know their hatred just; and here resign All my birthright to thee, my second self. I must forsake my country's sight, and seek New fortunes with this emperor, in hope To be rais'd up by his now rising wheel.

TEN. O, do not so, dear brother! so to part Were to divide one individual soul. Nor think me so ambitious. I can live A private life, and see a regal crown With no more envy than I see the sun Glitter above me. Let not Lud's two sons Be parted by a sea. I hold your presence At higher price than a whole kingdom's pomp. Keep then your right; like those admired twins, Let us rejoice, mourn, live, and die together.

AND. You shall a sceptre gain.

TEN. And lose a brother.

AND. Bear you the sovereign power of this land.

TEN. A body politic must on two legs stand: I'll bear a part, so to diminish envy.

AND. I must away, and shun the people's eye.

TEN. If to yourself unkind, be kind to me; For my sake stay at home; why will you fly? Think you a stepdame soil gives sweeter sap?

AND. Ay, for trees transplanted do more goodly grow.

TEN. And I'll count men but stocks, when they do so.

AND. I am resolv'd, all troubles brought asleep, To leave you with a parting kiss.

TEN. And by that kiss May I transfuse my soul or quite expire. Brothers have often for a kingdom fought; We strive to lose it. This is holy strife. But here I vow, if e'er that sacred lace Shall gird my temples, Rome must keep her bounds, Or fish for tribute in the dreadful deep.