Page 2439 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

Now Antony must leave her utterly.

ENOBARBUS
Never; he will not:
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale [235]
Her infinite variety: other women cloy
The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry,

Where most she satisfies. For vilest things
Become themselves in her, that the holy priests
Bless her, when she is riggish. [240]

MÆCENAS
If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle

The heart of Antony, Octavia is
A blessed lottery to him.

AGRIPPA
Let us go.
Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest,
Whilst you abide here.

ENOBARBUS
Humbly, sir, I thank you. [245]
(Exeunt.)

Scene III IT

(The same. Cæsar’s house.)

Enter Antony, Cæsar, Octavia between them.

ANTONY
The world, and my great office, will sometimes
Divide me from your bosom.

OCTAVIA
All which time