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58
The Tragedy of

Oct. I'll tell you in your ear.

Ant. Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can
Her heart obey her tongue; the swan's down-feather, 48
That stands upon the swell at full of tide,
And neither way inclines.

Eno. [Aside to Agrippa.] Will Cæsar weep?

Agr. He has a cloud in's face.

Eno. He were the worse for that were he a horse; 52
So is he, being a man.

Agr. Why, Enobarbus,
When Antony found Julius Cæsar dead
He cried almost to roaring; and he wept
When at Philippi he found Brutus slain. 56

Eno. That year, indeed, he was troubled with a rheum;
What willingly he did confound he wail'd;
Believe 't, till I weep too.

Cæs. No, sweet Octavia,
You shall hear from me still; the time shall not 60
Out-go my thinking on you.

Ant. 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.

Cæs. Adieu; be happy! 64

Lep. Let all the number of the stars give light
To thy fair way!

Cæs. Farewell, farewell!

Kisses Octavia.

Ant. Farewell!

Trumpets sound. Exeunt.

51, 52 He has a cloud in's face . . . horse; cf. n.
57 rheum: cold
58 confound: destroy