Char. Like her? Oh Isis: 'tis impossible
Cleo. I thinke so Charmian: dull of tongue, & dwarfish
What Maiestie is in her gate, remember
If ere thou look'st on Maiestie
Mes. She creepes: her motion, & her station are as one.
She shewes a body, rather then a life,
A Statue, then a Breather
Cleo. Is this certaine?
Mes. Or I haue no obseruance
Cha. Three in Egypt cannot make better note
Cleo. He's very knowing, I do perceiu't,
There's nothing in her yet.
The Fellow ha's good iudgement
Char. Excellent
Cleo. Guesse at her yeares, I prythee
Mess. Madam, she was a widdow
Cleo. Widdow? Charmian, hearke