affront me,
_Fuba_ (that kill'd my friend) is up in Arms too;
The Sons of _Pompey_ are Masters of the Sea,
And from the reliques of their scatter'd faction,
A new head's sprung; Say I defeat all these too;
I come home crown'd an honourable Rebel.
I hear the Noise still, and it still comes nearer;
Are the Guards fast? Who waits there?

_Enter_ Sceva _with a Packet_, Cleopatra _in it._

_Sce._ Are ye awake Sir?

_Caes._ I'th' name of Wonder.

_Sce._ Nay, I am a Porter,
A strong one too, or else my sides would crack, Sir,
And my sins were as weighty, I should scarce walk with 'em.

_Caes._ What hast thou there?

_Sce._ Ask them which stay without,
And brought it hither, your Presence I deny'd 'em,
And put 'em by; took up the load my self,
They say 'tis rich, and valu'd at the Kingdome,
I am sure 'tis heavy; if you like to see it
You may: if not, I'll give it back.

_Caes._ Stay _Sceva_,
I would fain see it.

_Sce._ I'll begin to work then;
No doubt, to flatter ye they have sent ye something,
Of a rich value, Jewels, or some rich Treasure;
May be a Rogue within to do a mischief;
I pray you stand farther off, if there be villany,
Better my danger first; he shall 'scape hard too,
Ha! what art thou?

_Caes._ Stand farther off, good _Sceva_,
What heavenly Vision! do I wake or slumber?
Farther off that hand, Friend.

_Sce._ What Apparition?
What Spirit have I rais'd? sure 'tis a Woman,
She looks like one; now she begins to move too:
A tempting Devil, o' my life; go off, _Caesar_,
Bless thy self, off: a Bawd grown in mine old days?
Bawdry advanc'd upon my back? 'tis noble:
Sir, if you be a Souldier come no nearer,
She is sent to dispossess you of your honour,
A Spunge, a Spunge to wipe away your Victories:
And she would be cool'd, Sir, let the Souldiers trim her!
They'll give her that she came for, and dispatch her;
Be loyal to your self. Thou damned Woman,
Dost thou come hither with thy flourishes,
Thy flaunts, and faces to abuse mens manners?
And am I made the instrument of Bawdry?
I'll find a Lover for ye, one that shall hug ye.

_Caes._ Hold, on thy life, and be more temperate,
Thou Beast.

_Sce._ Thou Beast?

_Caes._ Could'st thou be so inhumane,
So far from noble Men, to draw thy Weapon
Upon a thing divine?

_Sce._ Divine, or humane,
They are never better pleas'd, nor more at hea