SCENE III.

Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS.

Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you,
But when you are well pleas'd.

Cleo.

That Herod's head

Come thou

I'll have but how, when Antony is gone
Through whom I might command it?

I look'd her in the face; and saw her led

Between her brother and Mark Antony.
Cleo. Is she as tall as me?

Mess.

She is not, madam.

Cleo. Did'st hear her speak? Is she shrill-tongu'd, or low?

Mess. Madam, I heard her speak: she is lowvoic'd.

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

Char. Like her? O Isis! 'tis impossible.

Cleo. I think so, Charmian: dull of tongue, and

dwarfish!

What majesty is in her gait? Remember,

If e'er thou look'd'st on majesty.

Mess.

She creeps;

Her motion and her station are as one:
She shews a body rather than a life;

A statue, than a breather.

I do perceive 't. There's nothing in her yet.
The fellow has good judgment.

Char.

Cleo. Guess at her years, I pr'ythee.

Excellent.

Cleo.

Mess.

Bear'st thou her face in mind? is 't long,

or round?

Round, even to faultiness.

Cleo. For the most part, too, they are foolish that

are so.

Her hair, what colour?

Mess. Brown, madam; and her forehead

As low as she would wish it.

Cleo.

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 prepar❜d.

Char.

[Exit Messenger.

A proper man.

Cleo. Indeed, he is so: I repent me much, That so I harry'd him. Why, methinks, by him, This creature's no such thing.

Char. Nothing, madam.

Cleo.

The man hath seen some majesty, and should know.

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

Cleo.

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.
Char. I warrant you, madam.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Athens. A Room in ANTONY'S House.

Enter ANTONY and OCTAVIA.

Ant. Nay, nay, Octavia, not only that,
That were excusable, that, and thousands more
Of semblable import, but he hath wag'd

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.

Octa.

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 will mock 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.

Ant.

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.

Octa.

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.

Ant. 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.

SCENE V.

[Exeunt.

The Same. Another Room in the Same.

Enter ENOBARBUS and EROS, meeting.

Eno. How now, friend Eros?

Eros.

There's strange news come, sir.

Eros. Cæsar and Lepidus have made wars upon Pompey.

Eno. This is old: what is the success?

Eros. Cæsar, 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.

Eno. 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 is Antony?

Eros. He's walking in the garden-thus; and

spurns

The rush that lies before him; cries, "Fool, Lep

idus!

And threats the throat of that his officer,

That murther'd Pompey.

Eno.

Our great navy's rigg'd.

Eros. For Italy, and Cæsar. More, Domitius;

My lord desires you presently: my news

I might have told hereafter.

Eno.

'Twill be naught,

[Exeunt.

But let it be. Bring me to Antony.