And tye him like a slave, to thy proud beauties?
To thy imperious looks? that Kings have follow'd
Proud of their chains? have waited on? I shame Sir. [Exit.
Cæsar. Alas thou art rather mad: take thy rest Sceva,
Thy duty makes thee erre, but I forgive thee:
Go, go I say, shew me no disobedience:
'Tis well, farewel, the day will break dear Lady,
My Souldiers will come in; please you retire,
And think upon your servant.
Cleo. Pray you Sir, know me,