Octa. Sir, looke well to my Husbands house: and- Caesar. What Octauia?

Octa. Ile tell you in your eare

Ant. Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can Her heart informe her tongue.

The Swannes downe feather That stands vpon the Swell at the full of Tide: And neither way inclines

Eno. Will Caesar weepe?



Agr. He ha"s a cloud in"s face

Eno. He were the worse for that were he a Horse, so is he being a man

Agri. Why En.o.barbus: When Anthony found Iulius Caesar dead, He cried almost to roaring: And he wept, When at Phillippi he found Brutus slaine

Eno. That year indeed, he was trobled with a rheume, What willingly he did confound, he wail"d, Beleeu"t till I weepe too

Caesar. No sweet Octauia, You shall heare from me still: the time shall not Out-go my thinking on you

Ant. Come Sir, come, Ile wrastle with you in my strength of loue, Looke heere I haue you, thus I let you go, And giue you to the G.o.ds

Caesar. Adieu, be happy

Lep. Let all the number of the Starres giue light To thy faire way

Caesar. Farewell, farewell.

Kisses Octauia.

Ant. Farewell.

Trumpets sound. Exeunt.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.

Cleo. Where is the Fellow?

Alex. Halfe afeard to come

Cleo. Go too, go too: Come hither Sir.

Enter the Messenger as before.

Alex. Good Maiestie: Herod of Iury dare not looke vpon you, but when you are well pleas"d

Cleo. That Herods head, Ile haue: but how? When Anthony is gone, through whom I might commaund it: Come thou neere

Mes. Most gratious Maiestie

Cleo. Did"st thou behold Octauia?

Mes. I dread Queene

Cleo. Where?

Mes. Madam in Rome, I lookt her in the face: and saw her led betweene her Brother, and Marke Anthony

Cleo. Is she as tall as me?

Mes. She is not Madam

Cleo. Didst heare her speake?

Is she shrill tongu"d or low?

Mes. Madam, I heard her speake, she is low voic"d

Cleo. That"s not so good: he cannot like her long

Char. Like her? Oh Isis: "tis impossible

Cleo. I thinke so Charmian: dull of tongue, & dwarfish What Maiestie is in her gate, remember If ere thou look"st on Maiestie

Mes. She creepes: her motion, & her station are as one.

She shewes a body, rather then a life, A Statue, then a Breather

Cleo. Is this certaine?

Mes. Or I haue no obseruance

Cha. Three in Egypt cannot make better note

Cleo. He"s very knowing, I do perceiu"t, There"s nothing in her yet.

The Fellow ha"s good iudgement

Char. Excellent

Cleo. Guesse at her yeares, I prythee

Mess. Madam, she was a widdow

Cleo. Widdow? Charmian, hearke

Mes. And I do thinke she"s thirtie

Cle. Bear"st thou her face in mind? is"t long or round?

Mess. Round, euen to faultinesse

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

Mess. Browne Madam: and her forehead As low as she would wish it

Cleo. There"s Gold for thee, Thou must not take my former sharpenesse ill, I will employ thee backe againe: I finde thee Most fit for businesse. Go, make thee ready, Our Letters are prepar"d

Char. A proper man

Cleo. Indeed he is so: I repent me much That so I harried him. Why me think"s by him, This Creature"s no such thing

Char. Nothing Madam

Cleo. The man hath seene some Maiesty, and should know

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