Cleo.
Where is the fellow?

Alex.
Half afraid to come.

Cleo.
Go to, go to; come hither, Sir.

Enter the Messenger as before.

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

Cleo.
That Herod's head
I'll have; but how? when Antony is gone,
Through whom I might command it:—Come Thou near.

Mes.
Most gracious Majesty,—

Cleo.
Didst thou behold,
Octavia?

Mes.
Ay, dread Queen.

Cleo.
Where?

Mess.
In Rome, Madam.
I lookt her in the face: and saw her led
Between her brother and Mark Antony.

Cleo.
Is she as tall as me?

Mes.
She is not, Madam.

Cleo.
Didst hear her speak? is she shrill-tongu'd, or low?

Mes.
Madam, I heard her speak, 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 think so, Charmian; dull of tongue and dwarfish.
What Majesty is in her gate? remember,
If e'er thou look'dst on Majesty.

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

Cleo.
Is this certain?

Mes.
Or I have no observance,

Char.
Three in Ægypt
Cannot make better note.

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

Char.
Excellent.

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

Mes.
Madam, she was a widow.

Cleo.
Widow? Charmian, hark.

Mes.
And I do think, she's thirty.

Cleo.
Bear'st thou her face in mind? is't long, or round?

Mes.
Round even to faultiness.

Cleo.
For th' most part too,
They're foolish that are so. Her hair, what colour?

Mes.
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.
A proper man.

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

Char.
O, 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've 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.

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