Eno. We came hither to fight with you. Men. For my part, I am sorry it is turned to a drinking. Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune.

Eno. If he do, sure he cannot weep it back again.

Men. You have said, sir. We looked not for Mark Antony here; Pray you, is he married to Cleopatra?

Eno. Cæsar's sister is call'd Octavia.

Men. True, sir; she was the wife of Caius Marcellus.

Eno. But she is now the wife of Marcus Antonius.

Men. Pray you, 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 prophecy 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 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 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 used our throats in Egypt.

Men. Come; let's away.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII.-On board POMPEY's galley, lying near Misenum.

eyes should be, which pitifully disaster the cheeks.

A Sennet sounded. Enter CESAR, ANTONY,
POMPEY, LEPIDUS, AGRIPPA, MECENAS,
ENOBARBUS, MENAS, with other Captains.
Ant. Thus do they, sir: [To Cæsar.] They
take the flow o'the Nile

By certain scales i'the pyramid; they know,
By the 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 have strange serpents there.
Ant. Ay, Lepidus.

Lep. Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your mud by the operation of your sun: so is your crocodile.

Ant. They are so. Pom. Sit,

pidus.

and some wine.-A health to Le

Lep. I am not so well 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.

[Aside.

Lep. Nay, certainly, I have heard, the Ptolemies' pyramises 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, Aside. And hear me speak a word.

Pom. Forbear me till anon.This wine for Lepidus.

Lep. What manner o'thing is your crocodile? Ant. It is shaped, 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 its own colour too.
Lep. "Tis a strange serpent.

Ant. 'Tis so. And the tears of it are wet.
Cas. Will this description satisfy him?
Ant. With the health that Pompey gives him,
else he is a very epicure.

Pom. [To Menas aside. Go, hang, sir, hang!
Tell me of that? away!

Do as I bid you.-Where's this cup I call'd for?
Men. If for the sake of merit thou wilt hear me,
Rise from thy stool.
[Aside.
Pom. I think, thou'rt mad. The matter?
[Rises, and walks aside.
Men. I have ever held my cap off to thy for-

Men. Wilt thou be lord of all the world?

Pom. What say'st thou ?

Cæs. Possess it, I'll make answer: but I had

rather fast

That's twice.

Pom. How should that be?

Men. But entertain it, and, Although thou 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 darʼst be, the earthly Jove :
Whate er the ocean pales, or sky inclips,
Is thine, if thou wilt have't.

Pom. Show 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 there is thine.

Pom. Ah, this thou should'st have done,
And not have spoke on't! In me, 'tis villainy;
In thee, it 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, Aside.

I'll never follow 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.

Is weaker than the wine; and mine own tongue

Pompey.

Eno. Here's to thee, Menas.

most

Antick'd us all. What needs more words? Good

night.

Good Antony, your hand.

Pom. I'll try you o'the shore.

Ant. And shall, sir: give's your hand.
Pom. O, Antony,

You have my father's house,-But what? we are friends:

Come, down into the boat.

Eno. Take heed you fall not.

[Exeunt Pompey, Cæsar, Antony, and Attendants.

Menas, I'll not on shore.

Men. No, to my cabin.

These drums!-these trumpets, flutes! what!-
Let Neptune hear we bid a loud farewell
To these great fellows: Sound, and be hang'd,
sound out.

A flourish of trumpets, with drums.
Eno. Ho, says 'a!-There's my cap.
Men. Ho!-noble captain!

Come.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-A plain in Syria.

I have done enough: A lower place, note well,
May make too great an act: For learn this, Silius;
Better leave undone, than by our deed acquire
Too high a fame, when him we serve's away.
Cæsar, and Antony, have ever won
More in their officer, than person: Sossius,
One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant,
For quick accumulation of renown,
Which he achiev'd by the minute, lost his favour.
Who does i'the wars more than his captain can,
Becomes his captain's captain: and ambition,
The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss,
Than gain, which darkens him.

I could do more to do Antonius good,
But 'twould offend him; and in his offence
Should my performance perish.

Sil. Thou hast, Ventidius,

That without which a soldier, and his sword, Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to

Eno. They have despatch'd with Pompey, he

is gone;

The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps
To part from Rome: Cæsar is sad; and Lepidus,
Since Pompey's feast, as Menas says, is troubled
With the green sickness.

Agr. 'Tis a noble Lepidus.

Eno. A very fine one: O, how he loves Cæsar! Agr. Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony !

Eno. Cæsar? Why, he's the Jupiter of men. Agr. What's Antony? The god of Jupiter. Eno. Spake you of Cæsar? How? the nonpareil !

Agr. O Antony! O thou Arabian bird! Eno. Would you praise Cæsar, say,-Cæsar; -go no further.

Agr. Indeed, he ply'd them both with excellent praises.

Eno. But he loves Cæsar best ;-Yet he loves

Use me well in it.-Sister, prove such a wife As my thoughts make thee, and as my furthest band

Shall pass on thy approof.-Most noble Antony,
Let not the piece of virtue, which is set
Betwixt us, as the cement of our love,
To keep it builded, be the ram, to batter
The fortress of it: for better might we
Have loved without this mean, if on both parts
This be not cherish'd.

Ant. Make me not offended
In your distrust.

Čas. I have said.

Ant. You shall not find,

Though you be therein curious, the least cause For what you seem to fear: So, the gods keep you, And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends! We will here part.

Cas. Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well; The elements be kind to thee, and make Thy spirits all of comfort! fare thee well. Octa. My noble brother!—

Ant. The April's in her eyes: It is love's spring,

And these the showers to bring it on.-Be cheerful.

Octa. Sir, look well to my husband's house; and

Cæs. What,

Octavia ?

Octa. I'll tell you in your ear.

Ant. Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor

can

Her heart inform her tongue: the swan's down feather,

That stands upon the swell at full of tide,
And neither way inclines.

Eno. Will Cæsar weep? [Aside to Agrippa.
Agr. He has a cloud in's face.

Eno. He were the worse for that, were he a horse;

So is he, being a man.

Agr. Why, Enobarbus?

When Antony found Julius Cæsar dead,
He cried almost to roaring: and he wept,
When at Philippi he found Brutus slain.

Eno. That year, indeed, he was troubled with a rheum ;

What willingly he did confound, he wail'd:
Believe it, till I weep too.

Cas. No, sweet Octavia,

You shall hear from me still; the time shall not Out-go my thinking on you.

Ant. Come, sir, come;

I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love: Look, here I have you; thus I let you go, And give you to the gods.

Cas. Adieu; be happy!

Lep. Let all the number of the stars give light To thy fair way!

Cas. Farewell, farewell!

[Kisses Octavia. Ant. Farewell! [Trumpets sound. Exeunt.

SCENE III.—Alexandria. A room in the palace.

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAs, and
ALEXAS.

Cleo. Where is the fellow?
Alex. Half afeard to come.

Cleo. Go to, go to:-Come hither, sir.

Enter a Messenger.

Cleo. Didst thou behold Octavia?

Mess. Ay, dread queen.
Cleo. Where?

Mess. Madam, in Rome

I look'd her in the face; and saw her led
Between her brother and Mark Antony.
Cleo. Is she as tall as me?
Mess. She is not, madam.

Cleo. Didst hear her speak? Is she shrilltongu'd, or low?

Mess. Madam, I heard her speak; she is low-voic'd.

Cleo. That's not so good:-he cannot like her long.

Char. Like her? O Isis! 'tis impossible. Cleo. I think so, Charmian: Dull of tongue, and dwarfish!

What majesty is in her gait? Remember,
If e'er thou look'dst on majesty.

Mess, She creeps;

Her motion and her station are as one:
She shows a body rather than a life;
A statue, than a breather.

Cleo. Is this certain?

Mess. Or I have no observance.
Char. Three in Egypt

Cannot make better note.

Cleo. He's very knowing,

I do perceiv't:-There's nothing in her yet:The fellow has good judgment.

Char. Excellent.

Cleo. Indeed, he is so: I repent me much, That so I harry'd him. Why, methinks, by him, This creature's no such thing.

Char. O, nothing, madam.

Cleo. The man hath seen some majesty, and

should know.

Char. Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend, And serving you so long!

Cleo. I have one thing more to ask him yet, good Charmian :—

Octa. O my good lord,

Believe not all; or, if you must believe,
Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady,
If this division chance, ne'er stood between,
Praying for both parts:

And the good gods will mock me presently,
When I shall pray, O, bless my lord and husband!
Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud,

O, bless my brother! Husband win, win brother, Prays, and destroys the prayer; no midway 'Twixt these extremes at all.

Ant. Gentle Octavia,

Let your best love draw to that point, which seeks

Best to preserve it: If I lose mine honour,
I lose myself: better I were not yours,
Than yours so branchless. But, as you requested,
Yourself shall go between us: The mean time,
lady,

I'll raise the preparation of a war

Shall stain your brother; Make your soonest haste;

So your desires are yours.

Octa. Thanks to my lord.

The Jove of power make me most weak, most weak,

Your reconciler! Wars'twixt you twain would be As if the world should cleave, and that slain men Should solder up the rift.

Ant. When it appears to you where this begins, Turn your displeasure that way; for our faults Can never be so equal, that your love

Can equally move with them. Provide your going;

Choose your own company, and command what

Eno. What, man?

Eros. Cæsar and Lepidus have made wars upon Pompey.

Eno. This is old; what is the success? Eros. Cæsar, having made use of him in the wars 'gainst Pompey, presently denied him rivality; would not let him partake in the glory of the action: and not resting here, accuses him of letters he had formerly wrote to Pompey; upon his own appeal, seizes him: So the poor third is up, till death enlarge his confine.

Eno. Then, world, thou hast a pair of chaps,

In Alexandria,—here's the manner of it,-
I'the market-place, on a tribunal silver'd,
Cleopatra and himself in chairs of gold
Were publicly enthron'd: at the feet, sat
Cæsarion, whom they call my father's son ;
And all the unlawful issue, that their lust
Since then hath made between them. Unto her
He gave the 'stablishment of Egypt; made her
Of Lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia,
Absolute queen.

Mec. This in the public eye?

Cæs. I'the common show-place, where they exercise.

His sons he there proclaim'd, The kings of kings:
Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia,
He gave to Alexander; to Ptolemy he assign'd
Syria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia: She
In the habiliments of the goddess Isis
That day appear'd: and oft before gave audience,
As 'tis reported, so.

Mec. Let Romne be thus