Shakespeare's First Folio Part 656

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

Char. Hath he seene Maiestie? Isis else defend: and seruing you so long

Cleopa. I haue one thing more to aske 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.

Enter Anthony and Octauia.

Ant. Nay, nay Octauia, not onely that, That were excusable, that and thousands more Of semblable import, but he hath wag'd New Warres 'gainst Pompey. Made his will, and read it, To publicke eare, spoke scantly of me, When perforce he could not But pay me tearmes of Honour: cold and sickly He vented then most narrow measure: lent me, When the best hint was giuen him: he not took't, Or did it from his teeth

Octaui. Oh my good Lord, Beleeue not all, or if you must beleeue, Stomacke not all. A more vnhappie Lady, If this deuision chance, ne're stood betweene Praying for both parts: The good G.o.ds wil mocke me presently, When I shall pray: Oh blesse my Lord, and Husband, Vndo that prayer, by crying out as loud, Oh blesse my Brother. Husband winne, winne Brother, Prayes, and distroyes the prayer, no midway 'Twixt these extreames at all

Ant. Gentle Octauia, Let your best loue draw to that point which seeks Best to preserue it: if I loose mine Honour, I loose my selfe: better I were not yours Then your so branchlesse. But as you requested, Your selfe shall go between's, the meane time Lady, Ile raise the preparation of a Warre Shall staine your Brother, make your soonest hast, So your desires are yours

Oct. Thanks to my Lord, The Ioue of power make me most weake, most weake, Your reconciler: Warres 'twixt you twaine would be, As if the world should cleaue, and that slaine men Should soalder vp the Rift

Anth. When it appeeres to you where this begins, Turne your displeasure that way, for our faults Can neuer be so equall, that your loue Can equally moue with them. Prouide your going, Choose your owne company, and command what cost Your heart he's mind too.

Exeunt.

Enter En.o.barbus, and Eros.

Eno. How now Friend Eros?

Eros. Ther's strange Newes come Sir

Eno. What man?

Ero. Caesar & Lepidus haue made warres vpon Pompey

Eno. This is old, what is the successe?

Eros. Caesar hauing made vse of him in the warres 'gainst Pompey: presently denied him riuality, 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. Vpon his owne appeale seizes him, so the poore third is vp, till death enlarge his Confine

Eno. Then would thou hadst a paire of chaps no more, and throw betweene them all the food thou hast, they'le grinde the other. Where's Anthony?

Eros. He's walking in the garden thus, and spurnes The rush that lies before him. Cries Foole Lepidus, And threats the throate of that his Officer, That murdred Pompey