e sword against pilum, or sword against sword?

SENTINEL. Roman against Sicilian, curse you. Take that. (He hurls his
pilum at Apollodorus, who drops expertly on one knee. The pilum passes
whizzing over his head and falls harmless. Apollodorus, with a cry of
triumph, springs up and attacks the sentinel, who draws his sword and
defends himself, crying) Ho there, guard. Help!

Cleopatra, half frightened, half delighted, takes refuge near the
palace, where the porters are squatting among the bales. The boatman,
alarmed, hurries down the steps out of harm's way, but stops, with his
head just visible above the edge of the quay, to watch the fight.
The sentinel is handicapped by his fear of an attack in the rear from
Ftatateeta. His swordsmanship, which is of a rough and ready sort, is
heavily taxed, as he has occasionally to strike at her to keep her off
between a blow and a guard with Apollodorus. The Centurion returns with
several soldiers. Apollodorus springs back towards Cleopatra as this
reinforcement confronts him.

CENTURION (coming to the sentinel's right hand). What is this? What now?

SENTINEL (panting). I could do well enough for myself if it weren't for
the old woman. Keep her off me: that is all the help I need.

CENTURION. Make your report, soldier. What has happened?

FTATATEETA. Centurion: he would have slain the Queen.

SENTINEL (bluntly). I would, sooner than let her pass. She wanted to
take boat, and go--so she said--to the lighthouse. I stopped her, as I
was ordered to; and she set this fellow on me. (He goes to pick up his
pilum and returns to his place with it.)

CENTURION (turning to Cleopatra). Cleopatra: I am loath to offend you;
but without Caesar's express order we dare not let you pass beyond the
Roman lines.

APOLLODORUS. Well, Centurion; and has not the lighthouse been within the
Roman lines since Caesar landed there?

CLEOPATRA. Yes, yes. Answer that, if you can.

CENTURION (to Apollodorus). As for you, Apollodorus, you may thank the
gods that you are not nailed to the palace door with a pilum for your
meddling.

APOLLODORUS (urbanely). My military friend, I was not born to be slain
by so ugly a weapon. When I fall, it will be (holding up his sword) by
this white queen of arms, the only weapon fit for an artist. And now
that you are convinced that we do not want to go beyond the lines, let
me finish killing your sentinel and depart with the Queen.

CENTURION (as the sentinel make