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has a cloud in’s face. Enobarbas

Aside to Agrippa. He were the worse for that, were he a horse;
So is he, being a man.

Agrippa

Aside to Enobarbas. Why, Enobarbus,
When Antony found Julius Caesar dead,
He cried almost to roaring; and he wept
When at Philippi he found Brutus slain.

Enobarbas

Aside to Agrippa. That year, indeed, he was troubled with a rheum;
What willingly he did confound he wail’d,
Believe’t, till I wept too.

Caesar

No, sweet Octavia,
You shall hear from me still; the time shall not
Out-go my thinking on you.

Antony

Come, sir, come;
I’ll wrestle with you in my strength of love:
Look, here I have you; thus I let you go,
And give you to the gods.

Caesar Adieu; be happy! Lepidus

Let all the number of the stars give light
To thy fair way!

Caesar Farewell, farewell! Kisses Octavia. Antony Farewell! Trumpets sound. Exeunt. Scene III

Alexandria. Cleopatra’s palace.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas. Cleopatra Where is the fellow? Alexas Half afeard to come. Cleopatra Go to, go to. Enter the Messenger as before. Come hither, sir. Alexas

Good majesty,
Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you
But when you are well pleased.

Cleopatra

That Herod’s head
I’ll have: but how, when Antony is gone
Through whom I might command it? Come thou near.

Messenger Most gracious majesty⁠— Cleopatra Didst thou behold Octavia? Messenger Ay, dread queen. Cleopatra Where? Messenger

Madam, in Rome;
I look’d her in the face, and saw her led
Between her brother and Mark Antony.

Cleopatra Is she as tall as me? Messenger She is not, madam. Cleopatra Didst hear her speak? is she shrill-tongued or low? Messenger Madam, I heard her speak; she is low-voiced. Cleopatra That’s not so good: he cannot like her long. Charmian Like her! O Isis! ’tis impossible. Cleopatra

I think so, Charmian: dull of tongue, and dwarfish!
What majesty is in her gait? Remember,
If e’er thou look’dst on majesty.

Messenger

She creeps:
Her motion and her station are as one;
She shows a body rather than a life,
A statue than a breather.

Cleopatra Is this certain? Messenger Or I have no observance. Charmian

Three in Egypt
Cannot make better note.

Cleopatra

He’s very knowing;
I do perceive’t: there’s nothing in her yet:
The fellow has good judgment.

Charmian Excellent. Cleopatra Guess at her years, I prithee. Messenger

Madam,
She was a widow⁠—

Cleopatra Widow! Charmian, hark. Messenger And I do think she’s thirty. Cleopatra Bear’st thou her face in mind? is’t long or round? Messenger Round even to faultiness. Cleopatra

For the most part, too, they are foolish that are so.
Her hair, what colour?

Messenger

Brown, madam: and her forehead
As low as she would wish it.

Cleopatra

There’s gold for thee.
Thou must not take my former sharpness ill:
I will employ thee back again; I find thee
Most fit for business: go make thee ready;
Our letters are prepared. Exit Messenger.

Charmian A proper man. Cleopatra

Indeed, he is so: I repent me much
That so I harried him. Why, methinks, by him,
This creature’s no such thing.

Charmian Nothing, madam. Cleopatra The man hath seen some majesty, and should know. Charmian

Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend,
And serving you so long!

Cleopatra

I have one thing more to ask him yet, good Charmian:
But ’tis no matter; thou shalt bring him to me
Where I will write. All may be well enough.

Charmian I warrant you, madam. Exeunt. Scene IV

Athens. A room in Antony’s house.

Enter Antony and Octavia. Antony

Nay, nay, Octavia, not only that⁠—
That were excusable, that, and thousands more
Of semblable import⁠—but he hath waged
New wars ’gainst Pompey; made his will, and read it
To public ear:
Spoke scantly of me: when perforce he could not
But pay me terms of honour, cold and sickly
He vented them; most narrow measure lent me:
When the best hint was given him, he not took’t,
Or did it from his teeth.

Octavia

O my good lord,
Believe not all; or, if you must believe,
Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady,
If this division chance, ne’er stood between,
Praying for both parts:
The good gods me presently,
When I shall pray, “O, bless my lord and husband!”
Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud,
“O, bless my brother!” Husband win, win brother,
Prays, and destroys the prayer; no midway
’Twixt these extremes at all.

Antony

Gentle Octavia,
Let your best love draw to that point, which seeks
Best to preserve it: if I lose mine honour,
I lose myself: better I were not yours
Than yours so branchless. But, as you requested,
Yourself shall go between’s: the mean time, lady,
I’ll raise the preparation of a war
Shall stain your brother: make your soonest haste;
So your desires are yours.

Octavia

Thanks to my lord.
The Jove of power make me most weak, most weak,
Your reconciler! Wars ’twixt you twain would be
As if the world should cleave, and that slain men
Should solder up the rift.

Antony

When it appears to you where this begins,
Turn your displeasure that way; for our faults
Can never be so equal, that your love
Can equally move with them. Provide your going;
Choose your own company, and command what cost
Your heart has mind to. Exeunt.

Scene V

The same. Another room.

Enter Enobarbas and Eros, meeting. Enobarbas How now, friend Eros! Eros There’s strange news come, sir. Enobarbas What, man? Eros Caesar and Lepidus have made wars upon Pompey. Enobarbas This is old: what is the success? Eros Caesar, having made use of him in the wars ’gainst Pompey, presently denied him rivality; would not let him partake in the glory of the action: and not resting here, accuses him of letters he had formerly wrote to Pompey; upon his own appeal, seizes him: so the poor third is up, till death enlarge his confine. Enobarbas

Then, world, thou hast a pair of chaps, no more;
And throw between them all the food thou hast,
They’ll grind the one the other. Where’s Antony?

Eros

He’s walking in the garden⁠—thus; and spurns
The rush that lies before him; cries, “Fool Lepidus!”
And threats the throat of that his officer
That murder’d Pompey.

Enobarbas Our great navy’s rigg’d. Eros

For Italy and Caesar. More, Domitius;
My lord desires you presently: my news
I might have told hereafter.

Enobarbas

’Twill be naught:
But let

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