ANTONY.
You shall not find,
Though you be therein curious, the least cause
For what you seem to fear. So the gods keep you,
And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends.
We will here part.
CAESAR.
Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well.
The elements be kind to thee, and make
Thy spirits all of comfort! Fare thee well.
OCTAVIA.
My noble brother!
ANTONY.
The April’s in her eyes. It is love’s spring,
And these the showers to bring it on.—Be cheerful.
OCTAVIA.
Sir, look well to my husband’s house, and—
CAESAR.
What, Octavia?
OCTAVIA.
I’ll tell you in your ear.
ANTONY.
Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can
Her heart inform her tongue—the swan’s-down feather,
That stands upon the swell at the full of tide,
And neither way inclines.
ENOBARBUS.
[Aside to Agrippa.] Will Caesar weep?
AGRIPPA.
[Aside to Enobarbus.] He has a cloud in ’s face.