Spread all my beauties in the face of day. Ye Gods! why did ye give me such a soul (A soul, which ev'ry way is form'd for Empire), And damn me with a younger Brother's right? The diadem would set as well on mine, As on the brows of any lordly He; Nor is this hand weak to enforce command. And shall I steal into my grave, and give My name up to oblivion, to be thrown Among the common rubbish of the times? No: Perish first, this happy hated Brother. Lysias. Lysias. I always wear a dagger, for your service, I need not speak the rest— When humbly I intreated of your Brother T' attend him as Lieutenant in this war, Frowning contempt, he haughtily reply'd, He entertain'd not Traitors in his service.[Pg 52] [Pg 52]