And love in you, my _Guardian_, and desire
In you, my _Sister_, and the rest, to please us,
We should receive this, as a sawcy rudeness
Offer'd our private thoughts. But your intents
Are to delight us: alas, you wash an _Ethiop_:
Can _Cleopatra_, while she does remember
Whose Daughter she is, and whose Sister? (O
I suffer in the name) and that (in Justice)
There is no place in _Ægypt_, where I stand,
But that the tributary Earth is proud
To kiss the foot of her, that is her Queen,
Can she, I say, that is all this, e're relish
Of comfort, or delight, while base _Photinus_,
Bond-man _Achillas_, and all other monsters
That raign o're _Ptolomy_, make that a Court,
Where they reside, and this, where I, a Prison?
But there's a _Rome_, a _Senate_, and a _Cæsar_,
(Though the great _Pompey_ lean to _Ptolomy_)
May think of _Cleopatra_.

_Ap._ _Pompey_, Madam?

_Cleo._ What of him? speak: if ill, _Apollodorus_,
It is my happiness: and for thy news
Receive a favour (_Kings_ have kneel'd in vain for)
And kiss my hand.

_Ap._ He's lost.

_Cleo._ Speak it again!