_Cæs._ I am dull and heavy, yet I cannot sleep, How happy was I in my lawful Wars, In _Germany_, and _Gaul_, and _Britanny_ When every night with pleasure I set down What the day ministred! The sleep came sweetly: But since I undertook this home-division, This civil War, and past the _Rubicon_; What have I done that speaks an ancient _Roman_? A good, great man? I have enter'd _Rome_ by force, And on her tender Womb (that gave me life) Let my insulting Souldiers rudely trample, The dear Veins of my Country I have open'd, And sail'd upon the torrents that flow'd from her, The bloody streams that in their confluence Carried before 'em thousand desolations; I rob'd the Treasury, and at one gripe Snatch'd all the wealth, so many worthy triumphs Plac'd there as sacred to the Peace of _Rome_; I raz'd _Massilia_, in my wanton anger: _Petreius_ and _Afranius_ I defeated: _Pompey_ I overthrew: what did that get me? The slubber'd Name of an authoriz'd Enemy. [_Noise within._ I hear some Noise; they are the Watches sure. What Friends have I ty'd fast by these ambitions? _Cato_, the Lover of his Countries freedom, Is now past into _Africk_ to 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? _Cæs._ 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. _Cæs._ 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. _Cæs._ 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? _Cæs._ Stand farther off, good _Sceva_, What heavenly Vision! do I wake or slumber? Farther off that hand, Friend.