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.

Pomp.
^{1 note}

Men.
We, ignorant of our selves,
Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers
Deny us for our good; so find we profit
By losing of our prayers.

Pom.
I shall do well:
The people love me, and the sea is mine;
My pow'r's (a) ^note a crescent, and my auguring hope
Says, it will come to th' full. Mark Antony
In Ægypt sits at dinner, and will make
No wars without doors. Cæsar gets mony, where
He loses hearts; Lepidus flatters Both,
Of Both is flatter'd; but he Neither loves,
Nor Either cares for him.

Mene.
Cæsar and Lepidus are in the field,
A mighty strength they carry.

Pom.
Where have 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 witchcraft join with beauty; lust with both!
Tie 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,
Even 'till a Lethe'd dulness—

Enter Varrius.
How now, Varrius?

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

Pom.
I could have given less matter
A better ear. Menas, I did not think,
This am'rous surfeiter would have donn'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 Ægypt's widow pluck
The ne'er-lust-wearied Antony.

Men.
I cannot hope,
Cæsar and Antony shall well greet together.
His wife, who's dead, did trespasses to Cæsar;
His brother warr'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 cement their divisions, and bind up
The petty difference, we yet not know.
Be't, as our Gods will hav't! it only stands
Our lives upon, to use our strongest hands.
Come, Menas. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. Changes to Rome. Enter Enobarbus and Lepidus.

Lep.
Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed,
And shall become you well, t'entreat 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,
^{2 note}
Were I the wearer of Antonio's beard,
I would not shav'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 myself offended, and with you
Chiefly i'th' world; More laught at, that I should
Once name you derogately, when to found
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 befall. ^{3 note}

Made wars upon me; and their contestation
Was theam'd for you, you were the word of war.

Ant.
You do mistake your business: ^{4 note}
my brother never
Did urge me in his act: I did require 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'll patch a quarrel,
(As matter whole you've not to make it with,)
It must not be with this.

Cæs.
You praise yourself,
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'm 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 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 gibe my missive out of audience.

Ant.
Sir, he fell on me, ere admitted: then
Three Kings I had newly feasted, and did want
Of what I was i'th' morning: but, next day,
^{5 note}I told him of my self; which was as much
As to have ask'd 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;
^{6 note}The Honour's 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 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 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.
^{7 note}

Agr.
Give me leave, Cæsar.

Cæs.
Speak, Agrippa.

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

Cæs.
Say not so, Agrippa;
If Cleopatra heard you, your Approof
Were well deserv'd 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 but 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 spoke 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 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, 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 fame.
'Would, we had spoke together! haste we for it;
Yet, ere 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. [Flourish. Exeunt. SCENE III. 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 flie 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;
&wlquo;The Barge she sat in, like a burnish'd Throne,
&wlquo;Burnt on the water; the poop was beaten gold,
&wlquo;Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that
&wlquo;The Winds were love-sick with 'em; th' oars were silver,
&wlquo;Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
&wlquo;The water, which they beat, to follow faster,
&wlquo;As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,
&wlquo;It beggar'd all description; she did lye
&wlquo;In her pavilion, cloth of gold, of tissue,
&wlquo;^{8 note}O'er picturing that Venus, where we see
&wlquo;The Fancy out-work Nature. On each side her,
&wlquo;Stood pretty dimpled Boys, like smiling Cupids,
&wlquo;With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem
&wlquo;To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
&wlquo;And what they undid, did.&wrquo;

Agr.
Oh, rare for Antony!

&wlquo;Eno.
&wlquo;Here ^note Gentlewomen, like the Nereids,

&wlquo;So many Mermaids, tended her i' th' eyes,
&wlquo;^{9 note}

Agr.
Rare Ægyptian!

Eno.
Upon her landing, Antony sent to her,
Invited her to supper: she reply'd,
It should be better, he became her guest;
Which she intreated. 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 plough'd 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 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.
^{2 note}

If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle
The heart of Antony, Octavia is
A blest allott'ry to him.

Agr.
Let us go.
Good Enobarbus, make yourself 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. [Exeunt Cæsar and Octavia. SCENE IV. Enter Soothsayer.

Ant.
Now, sirrah! do you wish your self in Ægypt?

Sooth.

'Would I had never come from thence, nor you thither!

Ant.
If you can, your reason?

Sooth.
^{2 note}I see it in my Motion, have it not in my
Tongue; but yet hie you to Ægypt again.

Ant.
Say to me, whose fortune shall rise higher,
Cæsar's or mine?

Sooth.
Cæsar's.—Therefore, oh Antony, stay not by his side.
Thy Dæmon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is
Noble, couragious, high, unmatchable,
Where Cæsar's is not. But, near him, thy angel
^{3 note}Becomes a Fear, as being o'erpower'd; and therefore
Make space enough between you.

Ant.
Speak this no more.

Sooth.
To none but thee; no more, but when to thee.—
If thou dost play with him at any game,
Thou'rt sure to lose: and, of that natural luck,
He beats thee 'gainst the odds. Thy lustre thickens,
When he shines by: I say again, thy Spirit
Is all afraid to govern thee near him.

But, he away, 'tis noble.

Ant.
Get thee gone:
Say to Ventidius, I would speak with him. [Exit Sooth.
He shall to Parthia;—be it art, or hap,
He hath spoke true. The very dice obey him;
And, in our Sports, my better cunning faints
Under his chance; if we draw lots, he speeds;
His cocks do win the battle still of mine,
When it is all to nought: and his quails ever
Beat mine, in-hoop'd at odds. I will to Ægypt;
And though I make this marriage for my peace,
I' th' east my pleasure lies. Oh, come, Ventidius. Enter Ventidius.
You must to Parthia, your commission's ready:
Follow me and receiv't. [Exeunt. Enter Lepidus, Mecænas, and Agrippa.

Lep.
Trouble your selves 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 Soldiers' dress,
Which will become you Both, farewel.

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

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

Both.
Sir, good success.

Lep.
Farewel. [Exeunt.

SCENE V. Changes to the Palace in Alexandria. Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras and Alexas.

Cleo.
Give me some musick: musick, moody food
Of us that trade in love—

Omnes.
The musick, hoa! Enter Mardian the Eunuch.

Cleo.
Let it alone, let's to billiards: come, Charmian.

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

Cleo.
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.

Cleo.
And when good will is shew'd, tho't come too short,
The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now.
Give me mine angle, we'll to th' river, there,
My musick playing far off, I will betray
Tawny-finn'd fish; 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.

Char.
'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.

Cleo.
That time!—oh times!—
I laught him out of patience, and that night
I laught him into patience; and next morn,
Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed:

^{5 note}
Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst
I wore his sword Philippan. Oh, from Italy;— Enter a Messenger.
Ram thou thy faithful tidings in mine ears,
That long time have been barren.

Mes.
Madam! Madam!—

Cleo.
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 lipt, and trembled kissing.

Mes.
First, Madam, he is well.

Cleo.
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.

Cleo.
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,
^{6 note}Not like a formal man.

Mes.
Will't please you hear me?

Cleo.
I have a mind to strike thee, ere thou speak'st;
Yet, if thou say Antony lives, 'tis well,
Or friends with Cæsar, or not captive to him,

^{7 note}

Mes.
Madam, he's well.

Cleo.
Well said.

Mes.
And friends with Cæsar.

Cleo.
Thou'rt an honest man.

Mes.
Cæsar and he, are greater friends than ever.

Cleo.
Make thee a fortune from me.

Mes.
But yet, Madam—

Cleo.
I do not like but yet, it does allay
^{8 note}The good precedence; fie upon but yet:
But yet is as a jaylor to bring forth
Some monstrous Malefactor. Pr'ythee, friend,
Pour out the 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.

Cleo.
For what good turn?

Mes.
For the best turn i' th' bed.

Cleo.
I am pale, Charmian.

Mes.
Madam, he's married to Octavia.

Cleo.
The most infectious pestilence upon thee! [Strikes him down.

Mes.
Good Madam, patience.

Cleo.
What say you? [Strikes him.

Hence, horrible villain, or I'll spurn thine eyes
Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head: [She hales him up and down.
Thou shalt be whipt with wire, and stew'd in brine,
Smarting in lingring pickle.

Mes.
Gracious Madam,
I, that do bring the news, made not the match.

Cleo.
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 married, Madam.

Cleo.
Rogue, thou hast liv'd too long. [Draws a dagger.

Mes.
Nay, then I'll run:
What mean you, Madam? I have made no fault. [Exit.

Char.
Good Madam, keep your self within your self,
The man is innocent.

Cleo.
Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt—
Melt Ægypt into Nile; and kindly creatures
Turn all to serpents! call the slave again;
Though I am mad, I will not bite him; call.

Char.
He is afraid to come,

Cleo.
I will not hurt him.
These hands do lack nobility, that they strike
A meaner than myself: since I myself
Have given myself the cause. Come hither, Sir. Re-enter the Messenger.
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 done my duty.

Cleo.
Is he married?

I cannot hate thee worser than I do,
If you again say, Yes.

Mes.
He's married, Madam.

Cleo.
The Gods confound thee! dost thou hold there still?

Mes.
Should I lie, Madam?

Cleo.
Oh, I would, thou didst;
So half my Ægypt were submerg'd, and made
A cistern for scal'd snakes! go, get thee hence,
Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me
Thou wouldst appear most ugly: he is married?—

Mes.
I crave your Highness' pardon.

Cleo.
He is married?—

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

Cleo.
Oh, that his fault should make a knave of thee,
(a) ^noteThat say'st but what thou'rt sure of!—Get thee hence,
The merchandises, thou hast brought from Rome,
Are all too dear for me:
Lye they upon thy hand, and be undone by 'em! [Exit Mes.

Char.
Good your Highness, patience.

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

Char.
Many times, Madam.

Cleo.
I am paid for it now: lead me from hence,
I faint; oh 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,—
Let him for ever go—let him not, Charmian;

Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon,
Th' other way he's a Mars. Bid you Alexas
Bring word, how tall she is: pity me, Charmian,
But speak not to me. Lead me to my chamber. [Exeunt. SCENE VI. Changes to the Coast of Italy, near Misenum. Enter Pompey and Menas, at one door, with drum and trumpet: At another, Cæsar, Lepidus, Antony, Enobarbus, Mecænas, Agrippa, with Soldiers marching.

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 tie 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 labouring for him. What was it,
That mov'd pale Cassius to conspire? and what
Made Thee, 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 th' 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.

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

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

Cæs.
There's the point.

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

Cæs.
And what may follow
To try a larger fortune.

Pom.
You've 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 unhackt edges, and bear back
Our targe undinted.

Omnes.
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 studied 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'th' East are soft; and thanks to you,

That call'd me timelier than my purpose hither:
For I've gain'd by it.

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

Pom.
Well, I know not,
^{9 note}What counts hard fortune casts upon my face;
But in my bosom she shall 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's
Draw lots who shall begin.

Ant.
That I will, Pompey.

Pom.
No, Antony, take the lot:
But, first or last, your fine Ægyptian cookery
Shall have the fame. I've heard, that Julius Cæsar
Grew fat with feasting there.

Ant.
You have heard much.

Pom.
I have fair meaning, Sir.

Ant.
And fair words to them.

Pom.
Then so much have I heard.
And I have heard, Apollodorus carried—

Eno.
No more of that: he did so.

Pom.
What, I pray you?

Eno.
A certain Queen to Cæsar in a mattress.

Pom.
I know thee now, how far'st thou, Soldier?

Eno.
Well;
And well am like to do; for, I perceive,
Four Feasts are toward.

Pom.
Let me shake thy hand,
I never hated thee: I have seen thee fight,
When I have envied thy behaviour.

Eno.
Sir,
I never lov'd you much, but I ha' prais'd ye,
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?

All.
Shew's the way, Sir.

Pomp.
Come. [Exeunt. Manent Enob. and Menas.

Men.
Thy Father, Pompey, would ne'er have made this Treaty.
You and I have known, Sir.

Eno.

At sea, I think.

Men.

We have, Sir.

&wlquo;Eno.

&wlquo;You have done well by water.&wrquo;

&wlquo;Men.

&wlquo;And you by land.&wrquo;

&wlquo;Eno.

&wlquo;^{1 note}I will praise any man that will praise me,&wrquo; though it cannot be denied what I have done by land.

Men.

Nor what I have done by water.

Eno.

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

Men.

And you by land.

Eno.

There I deny my land-service; but give me your hand, Menas, if our eyes had authority, here they might take two thieves kissing.

Men.

All men's faces are true, whatsoe'er their hands are.

Eno.

But there is ne'er a fair woman, has a true face.

Men.

No slander—they steal hearts.

Eno.

We came hither to fight with you.

Men.

For my part, I am sorry it is turn'd to a Drinking. Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune.

Eno.

If he do, sure, he cannot weep't back again.

Men.

You've said, Sir; we look'd not for Mark Antony here; pray you, is he married to Cleopatra?

Eno.

Cæsar's Sister is called Octavia.

Men.

True, Sir, she was the Wife of Caius Marcellus.

Eno.

But now she is the Wife of Marcus Antonius.

Men.

Pray ye, Sir?

Eno.

'Tis true.

Men.

Then is Cæsar and he for ever knit together.

Eno.

If I were bound to divine of this Unity, I would not prophesie so.

Men.

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

Eno.

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

Men.

Who would not have his Wife so?

Eno.

Not he, that himself is not so; which is Mark Antony. He will to his Ægyptian 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 married but his occasion here.

Men.

And thus it may be. Come, Sir, will you aboard? I have a health for you.

Eno.

I shall take it, Sir: we have us'd our throats in Ægypt.

Men.

Come, let's away.

SCENE VII. On Board Pompey's Galley. Musick plays. Enter two or three Servants with a Banquet.

1 Ser.

Here they'll be, man: some o'their plants are ill rooted already, the least wind i'th' world will blow them down.

2 Ser.

Lepidus is high-colour'd.

1 Ser.

^{2 note}They have made him drink alms-drink.

2 Ser.

^{3 note}As they pinch one another by the disposition, he cries out, no more; reconciles them to his entreaty, and himself to th' Drink.

1 Ser.

But it raises the greater war between him and his discretion.

2 Ser.

Why, this it is to have a name in great men's fellowship: I had as lieve have a reed that will do me no service, as a Partizan I could not heave.

1 Ser.

To be call'd into a huge sphere, and not to be seen to move in't, are the holes where eyes should be, which pitifully disaster the cheeks.

Ant.
Thus do they, Sir: they take the flow o'th' Nile
By certain scale i'th' pyramid; they know,

By th' height, the lowness, or the mean, if dearth,
Or foizon, follow. The higher Nilus swells,
The more it promises; as it ebbs, the Seedsman
Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain,
And shortly comes to harvest.

Lep.
You've strange serpents there.

Ant.

Ay, Lepidus.

Lep.

Your serpent of Ægypt is bred now of your mud by the operation of your Sun; so is your Crocodile.

Ant.

They are so.

Pom.
Sirrah, some wine! a health to Lepidus.

Lep.
I am not so as I should be:
But I'll ne'er out.

Eno.

Not 'till you have slept; I fear me, you'll be in, 'till then.

Lep.

Nay, certainly, I have heard, the Ptolemy's Pyramisis are very goodly things; without contradiction, I have heard that.

Men.

Pompey, a word.

Pom.

Say in mine ear, what is't?

Men.
Forsake thy seat, I do beseech thee, Captain.
And hear me speak a word.

Pom.
Forbear me, 'till anon. [Whispers.
This wine for Lepidus.

Lep.
What manner o'thing is your Crocodile?

Ant.

It is shap'd, Sir, like itself; and it is as broad as it hath breadth; it is just so high as it is, and moves with its own organs. It lives by that which nourisheth it; and the elements once out of it, it transmigrates.

Lep.

What colour is it of?

Ant.

Of it's own colour too.

Lep.

'Tis a strange serpent.

Ant.

'Tis so, and the tears of it are wet.

Cæs.

Will this description satisfie him?

Ant.

With the health that Pompey gives him, else he is a very Epicure.

Pom.
Go hang, Sir, hang! tell me of that? away!
Do as I bid you. Where's the Cup I call'd for?

Men.
If for the sake of merit thou wilt hear me,
Rise from thy stool.

Pom.
I think, thou'rt mad; the matter?

Men.
I have ever held my cap off to thy fortunes.

Pom.

Thou hast serv'd me with much faith: what's else to say? be jolly, Lords.

Ant.
These quick-sands, Lepidus,
Keep off them, 'fore you sink.

Men.
Wilt thou be Lord of all the world?

Pom.
What say'st thou?

Men.
Wilt thou be Lord of the whole world? that's twice.

Pom.
How shall that be?

Men.
But entertain it,
And though you think me poor, I am the man
Will give thee all the world.

Pom.
Hast thou drunk well?

Men.
No, Pompey, I have kept me from the Cup.
Thou art, if thou dar'st be, the earthly Jove:
What e'er the Ocean pales, or Sky inclips,
Is thine, if thou wilt ha't.

Pom.
Shew me which way.

Men.
These three World-sharers, these Competitors,
Are in thy Vessel. Let me cut the cable:
And when we are put off, fall to their throats:
All then is thine.

Pom.
Ah, this thou shouldst have done,
And not have spoken on't. In me, 'tis villany;
In thee, 't had been good service: thou must know,
'Tis not my profit that does lead mine honour;
Mine honour, it: repent, that e'er thy tongue
Hath so betray'd thine act. Being done unknown,
I should have found it afterwards well done;
But must condemn it now. Desist, and drink.

Men.
For this,
I'll never follow ^{4 note}thy pall'd fortunes more;
Who seeks and will not take, when once 'tis offer'd,
Shall never find it more.

Pom.
This health to Lepidus.

Ant.

Bear him ashoar, I'll pledge it for him, Pompey.

Eno.

Here's to thee, Menas.

Men.

Enobarbus, welcome.

Pom.

Fill 'till the Cup be hid.

Eno.

There's a strong fellow, Menas.—

Men.

Why?

Eno.

He bears the third part of the world, man! seest not?

Men.
The third part then is drunk; 'would, it were all,
That it might go on wheels!

Eno.
Drink thou, encrease the reels.

Men.
Come.

Pom.
This is not an Alexandrian Feast.

Ant.
It ripens towards it; strike the vessels, hoa.
Here is to Cæsar.

Cæs.
I could well forbear it;
It's monstrous labour when I wash my brain,
And it grows fouler.

Ant.
Be a child o'th' time.

Cæs.
Possess it, I'll make answer; but I had rather
Fast from all, four days, than drink so much in one.

Eno.

Ha, my brave Emperor, shall we dance now the Ægyptian Bacchanals, and celebrate our Drink?

Pom.
Let's ha't, good Soldier.

Ant.
Come, let's all take hands;
'Till that the conquering wine hath steept our sense
In soft and delicate Lethe.

Eno.
All take hands:
Make battery to our ears with the loud musick,
The while I'll place you; then the Boy shall sing:
The Holding every man shall beat as loud
As his strong sides can volly. [Musick plays. Enobarbus places them hand in hand.
The SONG.
Come, thou Monarch of the Vine,
Plumpy Bacchus, with pink eyne.
In thy vats our cares be drown'd:
With thy grapes our hairs be crown'd!
Cup us, 'till the world go round;
Cup us, 'till the world go round.

Cæs.
What would you more? Pompey, good night. Good Brother,
Let me request you off; our graver business
Frowns at this levity. Gentle Lords, let's part;
You see, we have burnt our cheeks. Strong Enobarbus
Is weaker than the wind; and mine own tongue
Splits what it speaks; the wild disguise hath almost
Antickt us all. What needs more words? good night.
Good Antony, your hand.

Pom.
I'll try you on the shoar.

Ant.
And shall, Sir; give's your hand.

Pom.
^{5 note}Oh, Antony, you have my father's house.
But, what! we're friends; come down into the boat.

Eno.
Take heed you fall not, Menas.

Men.
I'll not on shoar.
No, to my cabin—these drums!

These trumpets, flutes! what!
Let Neptune hear, we bid a loud farewel
To these great fellows. Sound, and be hang'd, sound out. [Sound a flourish, with drums.

Eno.
Hoo, says 'a! there's my cap.

Men.
Hoa!—noble Captain, come. [Exeunt.

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