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

Eno.
I shall entreat 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, 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 sowrest points with sweetest terms,
Nor curstness grow to th' matter.

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

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 laught at,
If, or for nothing, or a little, I
Should say my self offended, and with you
Chiefly i'th' World. More laught at, that I should
Once name you derogately: when to sound your name
It not concern'd me.

Ant.
My being in Ægypt, Cæsar, what was't to you?

Cæs.
No more than my residing here at Rome
Might be to you in Ægypt: yet if you there
Did practise on my state, your being in Ægypt
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 Theam 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 satisfie you. If you patch a quarrel,
As matter whole you've not to make it with,
It must not be with this.

Cæs.

You praise your self, by laying defects of judgment to me: but you patch 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 sought,

Could not with graceful 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 easie, but not such a Wife.

Eno.

Would we had all such Wives, that the Men might go to Wars with the Women.

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

Cæs.
I wrote to you,
When rioting in Alexandria you
Did pocket up my Letters: and with taunts
Did beg my Missive out of audience.

Ant.
Sir, he fell on me, e'er admitted: then
Three Kings I had newly feasted, and did want
Of what I was i'th' morning: but next day
I told him of my self, which was as much
As to have askt him pardon. Let this Fellow
Be nothing of our strife: if we contend
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 lackt 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 denied.

Ant.
Neglected rather:
And then when Poisoned 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 Ægypt, made Wars here,
For which my self, the ignorant motive, do

So far ask pardon, as befits mine Honour
To stoop in such a case.

Lep.
'Tis nobly spoken.

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

Lep.
Worthily spoken, Mecænas.

Eno.

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.

Ant.
Thou art a Soldier, only speak no more.

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

Ant.
You wrong this presence, therefore speak no more.

Eno.
Go to then: your considerate Stone.

Cæs.
I do not much dislike the matter, but
The manner 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
Ath' World, I would pursue it.

Agr.
Give me leave, Cæsar.

Cæs.
Speak, Agrippa.

Agr.
Thou hast a Sister by thy Mother's side,
Admir'd Octavia! Great Mark Antony
Is now a Widower.

Cæs.

Say not so, Agrippa; if Cleopatra heard you, your proof were well deserved of rashness.

Ant.
I am not married, 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. Truths would be tales,

Where now half tales be truths: her love to both
Would each to other, and all loves to both
Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke,
For 'tis a studied, not a present Thought,
By duty ruminated.

Ant.
Will Cæsar speak?

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

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

Cæs.
The power of Cæsar,
And 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's 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 against 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 defie him.

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

Ant.
Where lyes he?

Cæs.
About the Mount-Misenum.

Ant.
What is his strength by Land?

Cæs.
Great, and increasing:
But by Sea he is an absolute Master.

Ant.
So is the Frame,
Would we had spoke together. Haste we for it,
Yet e'er we put our selves 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. Manent Enobarbus, Agrippa, Mecænas.

Mec.

Welcome from Ægypt, 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't in Ægypt.

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.

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 appear'd indeed: or my reporter devis'd well for her.

Eno.
I will tell you;
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 Pavillion, Cloth of Gold, of Tissue,
O'er-picturing that Venus, where we see
The Fancy out-work Nature. On each side her
Stood pretty dimpled Boys, like smiling Cupids,

With divers-colour'd Fans, whose wind did seem
To glow the delicate Cheeks which they did cool,
And what they undid did.

Agr.
Oh rare for Antony.

Eno.
Her Gentlewomen, like the Nereides,
So many Mere-maids tended her i'th' Eyes,
And made their bends adornings. At the Helm,
A seeming Mere-maid steers; the Silken Tackles
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'th' Market-place, did sit alone,
Whistling to th' Air; which but for vacancy,
Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,
And made a gap in Nature.

Agr.
Rare Ægyptian!

Eno.
Upon her landing, Antony sent to her,
Invited her to Supper: she replyed,
It should be better, he became her Guest;
Which she entreated. Our Courteous Antony,
Whom ne'er, the word of no, Woman heard speak,
Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the Feast:
And for his Ordinary, pays his Heart,
For what his Eyes eat only.

Agr.
Royal wench!
She made great Cæsar lay his Sword to Bed,
He ploughed her, and she cropt.

Eno.
I saw her once
Hop forty Paces through the publick Street.
And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted,
That she did make defect, perfection,
And breathless power breath forth.

Mec.
Now Antony must leave her utterly.

Eno.
Never, he will not.
Age cannot wither her, nor custom steal
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 blessed Lottery to him.

Agr.
Let us go.
Good Enobarbus, make your self my Guest,
Whilst you abide here.

Eno.
Humbly, Sir, I thank you. [Exeunt. Enter Antony, Cæsar, Octavia between them.

Ant.
The World, and my great Office, will sometimes
Divide me from your Bosom.

Octa.
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 th' Rule; good Night, dear Lady.

Octa.

Good Night, Sir.

Cæs.

Good Night.