Cæsar. Speak Queen of beauty, and stand up.
Cleo. I dare not,
'Till I have found that favour in thine eyes,
That godlike great humanity to help me,
Thus, to thy knees must I grow (sacred Cæsar,)
And if it be not in thy will, to right me,
And raise me like a Queen from my sad ruines,
If these soft tears cannot sink to thy pity,
And waken with their murmurs thy compassions;
Yet for thy nobleness, for vertues sake,