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Where mine his thoughts did kindle, that our stars,

Unreconciliable, should divide

Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends,—

But I will tell you at some meeter season:

The business of this man looks out of him;

We'll hear him what he says. Whence are you?

Egyp. A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my mistress,

Confin'd in all she has, her monument,

Of thy intents desires instruction,

That she preparedly may frame herself

To the way she's forc'd to.

Cæs. Bid her have good heart;

She soon shall know of us, by some of ours,

How honourable and how kindly we

Determine for her; for Cæsar cannot live

To be ungentle.

Egyp. So the gods preserve thee!

Exit.

Cæs. Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say,

We purpose her no shame; give her what comforts

The quality of her passion shall require,

Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke

She do defeat us; for her life in Rome

Would be eternal in our triumph. Go,

And with your speediest bring us what she says,

And how you find of her.

Pro. Cæsar, I shall.

Exit Proculeius.

Cæs. Gallus, go you along.

Where's Dolabella,

 63 passion: feelings, state of mind 