ENOBARBUS. [_Aside to Agrippa_.] That year, indeed, he was troubled with a rheum; What willingly he did confound he wailed, Believe ’t, till I weep too. CAESAR. No, sweet Octavia, You shall hear from me still. The time shall not Outgo 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. A Room in the Palace. Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras and Alexas. CLEOPATRA. Where is the fellow? ALEXAS. Half afeared to come. CLEOPATRA. Go to, go to. Enter a 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 looked 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.