CLEOPATRA.
You lie up to the hearing of the gods!
But if there be nor ever were one such,
It’s past the size of dreaming. Nature wants stuff
To vie strange forms with fancy; yet t’ imagine
An Antony were nature’s piece ’gainst fancy,
Condemning shadows quite.
DOLABELLA.
Hear me, good madam.
Your loss is, as yourself, great; and you bear it
As answering to the weight. Would I might never
O’ertake pursued success, but I do feel,
By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites
My very heart at root.
CLEOPATRA.
I thank you, sir.
Know you what Caesar means to do with me?
DOLABELLA.
I am loath to tell you what I would you knew.
CLEOPATRA.
Nay, pray you, sir.
DOLABELLA.
Though he be honourable—
CLEOPATRA.
He’ll lead me, then, in triumph.
DOLABELLA.
Madam, he will. I know it.
Flourish. Enter Caesar, Proculeius, Gallus, Maecenas and others of his train.
ALL.
Make way there! Caesar!