Pompey.
If the great gods be just, they shall assist
The deeds of justest men.

Mene.
Know, worthy Pompey,
That what they do delay, they not deny.

Pom.
Whiles we are suitors to their throne, delay's
The thing we sue for.

Mene.
We, ignorant of ourselves,
Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers
Deny us for our good: so find we profit,
By losing of our prayers* ^note.

Pom.
I shall do well:
The people love me, and the sea is mine;
My power's a crescent, and my auguring hope
Says, it will come to the full. Mark Antony
In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make
No wars without doors: Cæsar gets money, where
He loses hearts: Lepidus flatters both,
Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves,
Nor either cares for him.

Mene.
Cæsar and Lepiaus
Are in the field; a mighty strength they carry.

Pom.
Where had you this? 'tis false.

Mene.
From Silvius, sir.

Pom.
He dreams; I know, they are in Rome together,
Looking for Antony: But all the charms of love,
Salt Cleopatra, soften thy wan lip;
Let witch-craft join with beauty, lust with both!
Tye up the libertine in a field of feasts,
Keep his brain fuming; Epicurean cooks,
Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite;
That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour, Enter Varrius.
Even 'till a lethe'd dulness.—How now, Varrius?

Var.
This is most certain that I shall deliver:
Mark Antony is every hour in Rome
Expected; since he went from Egypt, 'tis
A space for farther travel.

Pom.
I could have given less matter
A better ear.—Menas, I did not think,
This amorous surfeiter would have don'd his helm

For such a petty war: his soldiership
Is twice the other twain: But let us rear
The higher our opinion, that our stirring
Can from the lap of Egypt's widow pluck
The ne'er lust-weary'd Antony.

Men.
I cannot hope,
Cæsar and Antony shall well greet together:
His wife, that's dead, did trespasses to Cæsar;
His brother war'd upon him; although, I think,
Not mov'd by Antony.

Pom.
I know not, Menas,
How lesser enmities may give way to greater.
Were't not that we stand up against them all,
'Twere pregnant they should square between themselves;
For they have entertained cause enough
To draw their swords: but how the fear of us
May cément their divisions, and bind up
The petty difference, we yet not know:
Be it as our gods will have it! It only stands
Our lives upon, to use our strongest hands.
Come, Menas. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Rome. A Room in Lepidus's House. Enter Enobarbus and Lepidus.

Lep.
Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed,
And shall become you well, to intreat your captain
To soft and gentle speech.

Eno.
I shall intreat him
To answer like himself: if Cæsar move him,
Let Antony look over Cæsar's head,
And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter,
Were I the wearer of Antonio's beard,
I would not shave't to-day.

Lep.
'Tis not a time
For private stomaching.

Eno.
Every time
Serves for the matter that is then born in't.

Lep.
But small to greater matters must give way.

Eno.
Not if the small come first.

Lep.
Your speech is passion:
But, pray you, stir no embers up. Here comes
The noble Antony. Enter Antony and Ventidius.

Eno.
And yonder Cæsar. Enter Cæsar, Mecænas, and Agrippa.

Ant.
If we compose well here, to Parthia:
Hark you, Ventidius.—

Cæs.
I do not know,
Mecænas; ask Agrippa.

Lep.
Noble friends,
That which combin'd us was most great, and let not
A leaner action rend us. What's amiss,
May it be gently heard: When we debate
Our trivial difference loud, we do commit
Murther in healing wounds: Then, noble partners,
(The rather, for I earnestly beseech)
Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms,
Nor curstness grow to the matter.

Ant.
'Tis spoken well:
Were we before our armies, and to fight,
I should do thus.

Cæs.
Welcome to Rome.

Ant.
Thank you.

Cæs.
Sit.

Ant.
Sit, sir.

Cæs.
Nay, then.

Ant.
I learn, you take things ill, which are not so;
Or, being, concern you not.

Cæs.
I must be laugh'd at,
If, or for nothing, or a little, I
Should say myself offended; and with you
Chiefly i'th' world: more laugh'd at, that I should
Once name you derogately, when to sound your name
It not concern'd me.

Ant.
My being in Egypt, Cæsar,
What was't to you?

Cæs.
No more than my residing here at Rome
Might be to you in Egypt: Yet, if you there

Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt
Might be my question.

Ant.
How intend you, practis'd?

Cæs.
You may be pleas'd to catch at mine intent,
By what did here befal me: Your wife and brother,
Made wars upon me; and their contestation
Was them'd for you, you were the word of war.

Ant.
You do mistake your business; my brother never
Did urge me in his act: I did inquire it;
And have my learning from some true reports,
That drew their swords with you. Did he not rather
Discredit my authority with yours;
And make the wars alike against my stomach,
Having alike your cause? Of this, my letters
Before did satisfy you. If you'll patch a quarrel,
(As matter whole you have not to make it with)
It must not be with this.

Cæs.
You praise yourself,
By laying to me defects of judgment: but
You patch'd up your excuses.

Ant.
Not so, not so:
I know you could not lack, I am certain on't,
Very necessity of this thought, That I,
Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought,
Could not with grateful eyes attend those wars
Which 'fronted mine own peace. As for my wife,
I would you had her spirit in such another:
The third o'th' world is yours; which with a snaffle
You may pace easy, but not such a wife.

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;'Would we had all such wives, that the men might go to wars with the women.&brquo;

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;So much uncurbable, her garboils, Cæsar,
&blquo;Made out of her impatience, (which not wanted
&blquo;Shrewdness of policy too) I grieving grant,
&blquo;Did you too much disquiet: for that, you must
&blquo;But say, I could not help it.

&blquo;Cæs.
&blquo;I wrote to you,
&blquo;When, rioting in Alexandria, you
&blquo;Did pocket up my letters; and with taunts
&blquo;Did gibe my missive out of audience.

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;Sir,
&blquo;He fell upon me, ere admitted; then
&blquo;Three kings I had newly feasted, and did want
&blquo;Of what I was i'th' morning: but, next day,
&blquo;I told him of myself; which was as much
&blquo;As to have ask'd him pardon: Let this fellow
&blquo;Be nothing of our strife; if we contend,
&blquo;Out of our question wipe him.

Cæs.
You have broken
The article of your oath; which you shall never
Have tongue to charge me with.

Lep.
Soft, Cæsar.

Ant.
No,
Lepidus, let him speak;
The honour is sacred which he talks on now,
Supposing that I lack'd it:—but on, Cæsar;
The article of my oath.—

Cæs.
To lend me arms, and aid, when I requir'd them;
The which you both deny'd.

Ant.
Neglected, rather;
And then, when poison'd hours had bound me up
From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may,
I'll play the penitent to you: but mine honesty
Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power
Work without it: Truth is, that Fulvia,
To have me out of Egypt, made wars here;
For which myself, the ignorant motive, do
So far ask pardon, as befits mine honour
To stoop in such a case* ^note.

&blquo;Lep.
&blquo;'Tis nobly spoken.

&blquo;Mec.
&blquo;If it might please you, to enforce no further
&blquo;The griefs between ye: to forget them quite,
&blquo;Were to remember that the present need
&blquo;Speak to atone you.

&blquo;Lep.
&blquo;Worthily spoken, Mecænas.

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;Or, if you borrow one another's love for the instant, you may, when you hear no more words of

Pompey, return it again: you shall have time to wrangle in, when you have nothing else to do.&brquo;

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;Thou art a soldier only; speak no more.

&blquo;Eno.
&blquo;That truth should be silent, I had almost forgot.

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;You wrong this presence, therefore speak no more.

&blquo;Eno.
&blquo;Go to then; your considerate stone.

Cæs.
I do not much dislike the manner, but
The matter of his speech: for't cannot be,
We shall remain in friendship, our conditions
So differing in their acts. Yet, if I knew
What hoop should hold us staunch, from edge to edge
O'the world I would pursue it.

&blquo;Agr.
&blquo;Give me leave, Cæsar,—

&blquo;Cæs.
&blquo;Speak, Agrippa.

&blquo;Agr.
&blquo;Thou hast a sister by the mother's side,
&blquo;Admir'd Octavia: great Mark Antony
&blquo;Is now a widower.

&blquo;Cæs.
&blquo;Say not so, Agrippa;
&blquo;If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof
&blquo;Were well deserv'd of rashness.

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;I am not marry'd, Cæsar: let me hear
Agrippa further speak.

Agr.
To hold you in perpetual amity,
To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts
With an unslipping knot, take Antony
Octavia to his wife: whose beauty claims
No worse a husband than the best of men;
Whose virtue, and whose general graces, speak
That which none else can utter. By this marriage,
All little jealousies, which now seem great,
And all great fears, which now import their dangers,
Would then be nothing: &blquo;truths would then be tales,
&blquo;Where now half tales be truths: her love to both
&blquo;Would, each to other, and all loves to both,
&blquo;Draw after her.&brquo; Pardon what I have spoke;
For 'tis a study'd, not a present thought,
By duty ruminated.

Ant.
Will Cæsar speak?

Cæs.
Not 'till he hears how Antony is touch'd
With what is spoke already.

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;What power is in Agrippa,
&blquo;If I would say, Agrippa, be it so,
&blquo;To make this good?

&blquo;Cæs.
&blquo;The power of Cæsar, and
&blquo;His power unto Octavia.

Ant.
May I never
To this good purpose, that so fairly shews,
Dream of impediment!—Let me have thy hand:
Further this act of grace; and, from this hour,
The heart of brothers govern in our loves,
And sway our great designs!

Cæs.
There is my hand.
A sister I bequeath you, whom no brother
Did ever love so dearly: Let her live
To join our kingdoms, and our hearts; and never
Fly off our loves again!

Lep.
Happily! Amen.

Ant.
I did not think to draw my sword 'gainst Pompey;
For he hath laid strange courtesies, and great,
Of late upon me: I must thank him only,
Lest my remembrance suffer ill report;
At heel of that, defy him.

Lep.
Time calls upon us:
Of us must Pompey presently be sought,
Or else he seeks out us.

Ant.
Where lies he, Cæsar?

Cæs.
About the mount Misenum.

Ant.
What's his strength
By land?

Cæs.
Great, and increasing: but by sea
He is an absolute master.

Ant.
So is the fame.
Would we had spoke together! Haste we for it:
Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, dispatch we
The business we have talk'd of.

Cæs.
With most gladness;
And do invite you to my sister's view,
Whither straight I'll lead you.

Ant.
Let us, Lepidus,
Not lack your company.

Lep.
Noble Antony,
Not sickness should detain me. [Exeunt Cæsar, Antony, and Lepidus.

Mec.

Welcome from Egypt, sir.

Eno.

Half the heart of Cæsar, worthy Mecænas!— my honourable friend, Agrippa!

Agr.

Good Enobarbus!

Mec.

We have cause to be glad, that matters are so well digested. You stay'd well by it in Egypt.

Eno.

Ay, sir; we did sleep day out of countenance, and made the night light with drinking.

Mec.

Eight wild boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and but twelve persons there: Is this true?

Eno.

This was but as a fly by an eagle: we had much more monstrous matter of feast, which worthily deserved noting* ^note.

Mec.

She's a most triumphant lady, if report be square to her.

Eno.

When she first met Mark Antony, she purs'd up his heart, upon the river of Cydnus.

Agr.

There she appeared indeed; or my reporter Devis'd well for her.

Eno.
I will tell you, sir:
The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,
Burnt on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that
The winds were love-sick with them: the oars were silver;
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water, which they beat, to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,
It beggar'd all description: she did lye
In her pavilion, (cloth of gold, of tissue)
O'er-picturing that Venus, where we see
The fancy out-work nature; on each side her
Stood pretty dimpl'd boys, like smiling Cupids,

With diverse-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem
To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
And what they undid, did.

Agr.
O, rare for Antony!

Eno.
Her gentlewomen, like the Nereids,
So many mermaids, tended her i'th' eyes,
And made their bends adornings: at the helm
A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle
Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands,
That yarely frame the office. From the barge,
A strange invisible perfume hits the sense
Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast
Her people out upon her: and Antony,
Enthron'd i'the market-place, did sit alone,
Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy,
Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,
And made a gap in nature.

&blquo;Agr.
&blquo;Rare Egyptian!

&blquo;Eno.
&blquo;Upon her landing, Antony sent to her,
&blquo;Invited her to supper: she reply'd,
&blquo;It should be better, he became her guest;
&blquo;Which she intreated: Our courteous Antony,
&blquo;Whom ne'er the word of no woman heard speak,
&blquo;Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast;
&blquo;And, for his ordinary, pays his heart,
&blquo;For what his eyes eat only.

&blquo;Agr.
&blquo;Royal wench!
&blquo;She made great Cæsar lay his sword to bed;
&blquo;He plough'd her, and she cropt.

&blquo;Eno.
&blquo;I saw her once
&blquo;Hop forty paces through the public street:
&blquo;And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted;
&blquo;That she did make defect, perfection,
&blquo;And, breathless, power breathe forth.

Mec.
Now Antony
Must leave her utterly.

Eno.
Never; he will not:
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
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.

Mec.
If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle
The heart of Antony, Octavia is
A blest allottery to him.

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

Eno.
Humbly, sir, I thank you. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. A Room in Cæsar's House. Enter Cæsar, Antony, Octavia between them; attendants behind, and Soothsayer.

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

Oct.
All which time,
Before the gods my knee shall bow in prayers
To them for you.

Ant.
Good night, sir.—My Octavia,
Read not my blemishes in the world's report:
I have not kept my square; but that to come
Shall all be done by the rule Good night, dear lady.

Oct.
Good night, sir.

Cæs.
Good night. [Exeunt Cæsar, Octavia, and attendants.

&blquo;* ^noteAnt.
Now, sirrah! you do wish yourself in Egypt?

&blquo;Soo.
&blquo;'Would I had never come from thence, nor you
Thither!

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;If you can, your reason?

&blquo;Soo.
&blquo;I see it in.
&blquo;My motion, have it not in my tongue: But yet
&blquo;Hye you again to Egypt.

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;Say to me,
&blquo;Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Cæsar's or mine?

&blquo;Soo.
&blquo;Cæsar's.
&blquo;Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side:

&blquo;Thy dæmon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is
&blquo;Noble, courageous, high, unmatchable,
&blquo;Where Cæsar's is not; but, near him, thy angel
&blquo;Becomes a fear, as being o'er-power'd; and therefore
&blquo;Make space enough between you.

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;Speak this no more.

&blquo;Soo.
&blquo;To none but thee; no more, but when to thee.
&blquo;If thou dost play with him at any game,
&blquo;Thou art sure to lose; and, of that natural luck,
&blquo;He beats thee 'gainst the odds: thy lustre thickens,
&blquo;When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit
&blquo;Is all afraid to govern thee near him;
&blquo;But, he away, 'tis noble.

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;Get thee gone:
&blquo;Say to Ventidius, I would speak with him:— [Exit Soothsayer.
&blquo;He shall to Parthia. Be it art, or hap,
&blquo;He hath spoken true: The very dice obey him;
&blquo;And, in our sports, my better cunning faints
&blquo;Under his chance: if we draw lots, he speeds:
&blquo;His cocks do win the battle still of mine,
&blquo;When it is all to nought; and his quails ever
&blquo;Beat mine, in whoopt-at odds. I will to Egypt:
&blquo;And though I make this marriage for my peace,
&blquo;I'the east my pleasure lies.&brquo;—O, come, Ventidius, Enter Ventidius.
You must to Parthia; your commission's ready:
Follow me, and receive't. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. The same. A Street. Enter Lepidus, attended: Mecænas and Agrippa.

Lep.
Trouble yourselves no farther: pray you, hasten
Your generals after.

Agr.
Sir, Mark Antony
Will e'en but kiss Octavia, and we'll follow.

Lep.
'Till I shall see you in your soldier's dress,
Which will become you both, farewel.

Mec.
We shall,
As I conceive the journey, be at the mount
Before you, Lepidus.

Lep.
Your way is shorter,
My purposes do draw me much about;
You'll win two days upon me.

Mec. Agr.
Sir, good success!

Lep.
Farewel. [Exeunt severally. SCENE V. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.

Cle.
Give me some music; music, moody food
Of us that trade in love.

Att.
The music, ho! Enter Mardian.

Cle.
Let it alone; let us to billiards:—come,
Charmian.

Cha.
My arm is sore, best play with Mardian.

Cle.
As well a woman with an eunuch play'd,
As with a woman:—Come, you'll play with me, sir?

Mar.
As well as I can, madam.

Cle.
And when good will is shew'd, though't come too short,
The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now:—
Give me mine angle.—We'll to the river: there,
My music playing far off, I will betray
Tawny-fin'd fishes: my bended hook shall pierce
Their slimy jaws; and, as I draw them up,
I'll think them every one an Antony,
And say, Ah, ha! you're caught.

Cha.
'Twas merry, when
You wager'd on your angling; when your diver
Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he
With fervency drew up.

Cle.
That time!—O times!—
I laugh'd him out of patience; and that night
I laugh'd him into patience: and next morn,
Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed;
Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst
I wore his sword Philippan. O, from Italy;—

Enter a Messenger.
Rain thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears,
That long time have been barren.

Mes.
Madam, madam,—

Cle.
Antony's dead:—If thou say so,
Villain, thou kill'st thy mistress: but well, and free,
If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here
My bluest veins to kiss; a hand, that kings
Have lip'd, and trembl'd kissing.

Mes.
First, madam, he is well.

Cle.
Why, there's more gold. But, sirrah, mark; we use
To say, the dead are well: bring it to that,
The gold, I give thee, will I melt, and pour
Down thy ill-uttering throat.

Mes.
Good madam, hear me.

Cle.
Well, go to, I will;
But there's no goodness in thy face: If Antony
Be free, and healthful, why so tart a favour
To trumpet such good tidings? If not well,
Thou should'st come like a fury crown'd with snakes,
Not like a formal man.

&blquo;Mes.
&blquo;Will't please you hear me?

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;I have a mind to strike thee, ere thou speak'st:
&blquo;Yet if thou say, Antony lives, is well,
&blquo;Or friends with Cæsar, or not captive to him,
&blquo;I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail
&blquo;Rich pearls upon thee.

Mes.
Madam, he's well.

Cle.
Well said.

Mes.
And friends with Cæsar.

Cle.
Thou'rt an honest man.

Mes.
Cæsar and he are greater friends than ever.

Cle.
Mark thee a fortune from me.

Mes.
But yet, madam,—

Cle.
I do not like but yet, it does allay
The good precedence; fie upon but yet:
But yet is as a jailer to bring forth
Some monstrous malefactor. Pr'ythee, friend,
Pour out thy pack of matter to mine ear,

The good and bad together: He's friends with Cæsar;
In state of health, thou say'st; and, thou say'st, free.

Mes.
Free, madam! no; I made no such report:
He's bound unto Octavia.

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;For what good turn?

&blquo;Mes.
&blquo;For the best turn i'the bed.

Cle.
I am pale, Charmian.

Mes.
Madam, he's marry'd to Octavia.

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;The most infectious pestilence upon thee? [* ^noteStrikes him down.

&blquo;Mes.
&blquo;Good madam, patience.

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;What say you? [striking him again.] Hence,
&blquo;Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes
&blquo;Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head: &blquo;[Hales him up and down.
&blquo;Thou shalt be whipt with wire, and stew'd in brine,
&blquo;Smarting in ling'ring pickle.

&blquo;Mes.
&blquo;Gracious madam,
&blquo;I, that do bring the news, made not the match.

Cle.
Say, 'tis not so, a province I will give thee,
And make thy fortunes proud: the blow thou had'st
Shall make thy peace, for moving me to rage;
And I will boot thee with what gift beside
Thy modesty can beg.

Mes.
He's marry'd, madam.

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;Rogue, thou hast liv'd too long. &blquo;[Draws a dagger.

&blquo;Mes.
&blquo;Nay, then I'll run:—
&blquo;What mean you, madam? I have made no fault. &blquo;[Exit Messenger.

&blquo;Cha.
&blquo;Good madam, keep yourself within yourself;
&blquo;The man is innocent.

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;Some innocents 'scape not the thunder-bolt.—
&blquo;Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly creatures
&blquo;Turn all to serpents!—Call the slave again;
&blquo;Though I am mad, I will not bite him; call.

&blquo;Cha.
&blquo;He is afeard to come.

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;I will not hurt him:—
&blquo;These hands do lack nobility, that they strike
&blquo;A meaner than myself? since I myself
&blquo;Have given myself the cause.—Come hither, sir: &blquo;Re-enter Messenger.
&blquo;Though it be honest, it is never good
To bring bad news: Give to a gracious message
An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell
Themselves, when they be felt.

Mes.
I have but done my duty.

Cle.
Is he marry'd?
I cannot hate thee worser than I do,
If thou again say, yes.

Mes.
He's marry'd, madam.

Cle.
The gods confound thee! dost thou hold there still?

Mes.
Should I lye, madam?

Cle.
O, I would, thou didst;
So half my Egypt were submerg'd, and made
A cistern for scal'd snakes! Go, get thee hence;
Had'st thou Narcissus in thy face, to me
Thou would'st appear most ugly. He is marry'd?

Mes.
I crave your highness' pardon.

Cle.
He is marry'd?

Mes.
Take no offence, that I would not offend you:
To punish me for what you make me do,
Seems much unequal: He's marry'd to Octavia.

Cle.
O, that his fault should make a knave of thee,
That say'st but what thou art sure of! Get thee hence:
The merchandize which thou hast brought from Rome,
Are all too dear for me; lye they upon thy hand,
And be undone by 'em! [Exit Messenger.

Cha.
Good your highness, patience.

Cle.
In praising Antony, I have disprais'd Cæsar.

Cha.
Many times, madam.

Cle.
I am pay'd for't now.
Lead me from hence,
I faint; O Iras, Charmian,—'Tis no matter:
Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him
Report the feature of Octavia, her years,

Her inclination, let him not leave out
The colour of her hair: bring me word quickly. [Exit Alexas.
Let him for ever go:—Let him not, Charmian:
Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon,
The other way's a Mars:—Bid you Alexas [To Mardian.
Bring me word how tall she is.—Pity me, Charmian,
But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber. [Exeunt. SCENE VI. Country near Misenum. Flourish. Enter, from opposite Sides, Pompey, Menas, and others: Cæsar, Antony, Lepidus, Enobarbus, and others.

Pom.
Your hostages I have, so have you mine;
And we shall talk before we fight.

Cæs.
Most meet,
That first we come to words; and therefore have we
Our written purposes before us sent:
Which if thou hast consider'd, let us know
If 'twill tye up thy discontented sword;
And carry back to Sicily much tall youth,
That else must perish here.

Pom.
To you all three,
The senators alone of this great world,
Chief factors for the gods,—I do not know,
Wherefore my father should revengers want,
Having a son, and friends; since Julius Cæsar,
Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted,
There saw you lab'ring for him. What was't
That mov'd pale Cassius to conspire? And what
Made the all-honour'd, honest, Roman Brutus,
With the arm'd rest, courtiers of beauteous freedom,
To drench the capitol; but that they would
Have one man but a man? And that is it,
Hath made me rig my navy; at whose burthen
The anger'd ocean foams; with which I meant
To scourge the ingratitude that despightful Rome
Cast on my noble father.

Cæs.
Take your time.

Ant.
Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy sails,
We'll speak with thee at sea: at land, thou know'st
How much we do o'er-count thee.

&blquo;Pom.
&blquo;At land, indeed,
&blquo;Thou dost o'er-count me of my father's house:
&blquo;But, since the cuckoo builds not for himself,
&blquo;Remain in't, as thou may'st.

&blquo;Lep.
&blquo;Be pleas'd to tell us,
&blquo;(For this is from the present) how you take
&blquo;The offers we have sent you.

&blquo;Cæs.
&blquo;There's the point.

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;Which do not be intreated to, but weigh
&blquo;What it is worth embrac'd.

&blquo;Cæs.
&blquo;And what may follow,
&blquo;To try a larger fortune.

Pom.
You have made me offer
Of Sicily, Sardinia; and I must
Rid all the sea of pirates: then, to send
Measures of wheat to Rome: This 'greed upon,
To part with unhack'd edges, and bear back
Our targe undinted.

Cæs. Ant. Lep.
That's our offer.

Pom.
Know then,
I came before you here, a man prepar'd
To take this offer: But Mark Antony
Put me to some impatience:—Though I lose
The praise of it by telling, you must know,
When Cæsar and your brother were at blows,
Your mother came to Sicily, and did find
Her welcome friendly.

Ant.
I have heard it, Pompey;
And am well study'd for a liberal thanks,
Which I do owe you.

Pom.
Let me have your hand:
I did not think, sir, to have met you here.

Ant.
The beds i'the east are soft: and thanks to you,
That call'd me, timelier than my purpose, hither;
For I have gain'd by't.

Cæs.
Since I saw you last,
There is a change upon you.

Pom.
Well, I know not,
What counts harsh fortune casts upon my face;
But in my bosom shall she never come,
To make my heart her vassal.

Lep.
Well met here.

Pom.
I hope so, Lepidus.—Thus we are agreed:
I crave, our composition may be written,
And seal'd between us.

Cæs.
That's the next to do.

Pom.
We'll feast each other, ere we part; and let us
Draw lots who shall begin.

Ant.
That will I, Pompey.

&blquo;Pom.
&blquo;No, noble Antony, take the lot: but, first,
&blquo;Or last, your fine Egyptian cookery
&blquo;Shall have the fame. I have heard, that Julius Cæsar
&blquo;Grew fat with feasting there.

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;You have heard much.

&blquo;Pom.
&blquo;I have fair meaning, sir.

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;And fair words to them.

&blquo;Pom.
&blquo;Then so much have I heard. And I have heard,
&blquo;Apollodorus carry'd—

&blquo;Eno.
&blquo;No more of that:—He did so.

&blquo;Pom.
&blquo;What, I pray you?

&blquo;Eno.
&blquo;A certain queen to Cæsar in a matress.

&blquo;Pom.
&blquo;I know thee now: How far'st thou, soldier?

&blquo;Eno.
&blquo;Well;
&blquo;And well am like to do: for, I perceive,
&blquo;Four feasts are toward.

Pom.
Let me shake thy hand;
I never hated thee: I have seen thee fight,
When I have envy'd thy behaviour.

Eno.
Sir,
I never lov'd you much; but I have prais'd you,
When you have well deserv'd ten times as much
As I have said you did.

Pom.
Enjoy thy plainness,
It nothing ill becomes thee.—
Aboard my galley I invite you all:
Will you lead, lords?

Cæs. Ant. Lep.
Shew us the way, sir.

Pom.
Come. [Exeunt Pompey, Cæsar, Antony, Lepidus, and attendants.

&blquo;* ^noteMen.

&blquo;Thy father, Pompey, would ne'er have made this treaty.—You and I have known, sir.&brquo;

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;At sea, I think.&brquo;

&blquo;Men.

&blquo;We have, sir.&brquo;

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;You have done well by water.&brquo;

&blquo;Men.

&blquo;And you by land.&brquo;

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;I will praise any man that will praise me: though it cannot be deny'd, what I have done by land.&brquo;

&blquo;Men.

&blquo;Nor what I have done by water.&brquo;

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;Yes, something you can deny for your own safety: you have been a great thief by sea.&brquo;

&blquo;Men.

&blquo;And you by land.&brquo;

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;There I deny my land-service. But give me your hand, Menas; If our eyes had authority, here they might take two thieves kissing.&brquo;

&blquo;Men.

&blquo;All men's faces are true, whatsoe'er their hands are.&brquo;

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;But there is never a fair woman has a true face.&brquo;

&blquo;Men.

&blquo;No slander; they steal hearts.&brquo;

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;We came hither to fight with you.&brquo;

&blquo;Men.

&blquo;For my part, I am sorry it is turn'd to a drinking. Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune.&brquo;

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;If he do, sure, he cannot weep it back again.&brquo;

&blquo;Men.

&blquo;You have said, sir. We look'd not for Mark Antony here; pray you, is he marry'd to Cleopatra?&brquo;

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;Cæsar's sister is called Octavia.&brquo;

&blquo;Men.

&blquo;True, sir: she was the wife of Caius Marcellus.&brquo;

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;But now she is the wife of Marcus Antonius.&brquo;

&blquo;Men.

&blquo;Pray you, sir,—&brquo;

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;'Tis true.&brquo;

&blquo;Men.

&blquo;Then is Cæsar, and he, for ever knit together.&brquo;

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;If I were bound to divine of this unity, I would not prophesy so.&brquo;

&blquo;Men.

&blquo;I think the policy of that purpose made more in the marriage, than the love of the parties.&brquo;

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;I think so too. But you shall find, the band that seems to tye their friendship together, will be the very strangler of their amity: Octavia is of a holy, cold, and still conversation.&brquo;

&blquo;Men.

&blquo;Who would not have his wife so?&brquo;

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;Not he, that himself is not so; which is Mark Antony. He will to his Egyptian dish again: then shall the sighs of Octavia blow the fire up in Cæsar; and, as I said before, that which is the strength of their amity, shall prove the immediate author of their variance. Antony will use his affection where it is; he marry'd but his occasion here.&brquo;

&blquo;Men.

&blquo;And thus it may be. Come, sir, will you aboard? I have a health for you.&brquo;

&blquo;Eno.

&blquo;I shall take it, sir: we have us'd our throats in Egypt.&brquo;

&blquo;Men.

&blquo;Come; let's away.&brquo;