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SCENE V.-Alexandria.—A Room in the Pulace.


Cleo. Give me some music; music, moody

Of us that trade in love.

Attend. The music, ho!


Cleo. Let it alone; let us 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 show'd, though it 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-finn'd fishes; my bended hook shall

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 !-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 tirest and mantles on him, whilst
I wore his sword Philippan. O! from Italy;

Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears,
That long time have been barren.

Mess. 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 lipp'd, and trembled kissing.

Mess. First, madam, he's 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.

Mess. 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 favourt
To trumpet such good tidings? If not well,
Thou should'st come like a fury crown'd with
Not like a formal man.§

Mess. Will't please you hear me?
Cleo. I have a mind to strike thee, ere thou

Yet, if thou say, Antony lives, is well,
Or friends with Cesar, or not captive to him,
I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail
Rích pearls upon thee.

Mess. Madam, he's well.

Cleo. Well said.

Mess. And friends with Cesar.

Cleo. Thou'rt an honest man.

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Mess. Cesar and he are greater friends than


Cleo. Make thee a fortune from me.
Mess. But yet madam,—

The good precedence; fie upon but yet:
Cleo. I do not like but yet, it does allay
But yet is as a jailer 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 friend with
In state of health, thou say'st; and, thou say'st,
Mess. Free, madam! no; I made no such re-
He's bound unto Octavia.

Cleo. For what good turn?

Mess. For the best turn i'the bed.
Cleo. I am pale, Charmian.



Mess. Madam, he's married to Octavia.
Cleo. The most infectious pestilence upon
[Strikes him down.
Mess. Good madam, patience.
Cleo. What say you?-Hence,

[Strikes him again. 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 whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine,

Smarting in ling ring pickle.
Mess. Gracious madam,

I, that do bring the news, made not the match.
Cleo. Say, 'tis not so, a province I will give


[hadst Shall make thy peace, for moving me to rage; And make thy fortunes proud: the blow thou And I will boot thee with what gift beside Thy modesty can beg.

Mess. He's married, madam.
Cleo. Rogue thou hast liv'd too long.
[Draws a Dagger.
Mess. Nay, then I'll run:-

What mean you, madam? I have made no
Char. Good madam, keep yourself within
The man is innocent.

Cleo. Some innocents 'scape not the thun


Melt Egypt 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 afeard 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,


Though it be honest, it is never good
To bring bad news: Give to a gracious message
A host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell
Themselves, when they be felt.

Mess. I have done my duty.
Cleo. Is he married?

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

Mess. He is married, madam.

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

Mess. Should I lie, madam?

Cleo. O, I would, thou didst;

So half my Egypt were submerg'd,t and made A cistern for scal'd snakes! Go, get thee hence;

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Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me
Thou would'st appear most ugly. He is mar-

Mess. I crave your highness' pardon.
Cleo. He is married?

Mess. Take no offence, that I would not of-
fend you:

To punish me for what you make me do, [via.
Seems much unequal: He is married to Octa-
Cleo. O, that his fault should make a knave
of thee,

That art not!-What? thou'rt sure of't?-Get
thee hence:

The merchandise which thou hast brought
from Rome,
Are all too dear for me; Lie they upon thy
And be undone by 'em! [Exit MESSENGER.
Char. Good your highness, patience.
Cleo. In praising Antony, I have disprais'd

Char. Many times, madam.

Cleo. I am paid for't now.

Lead me from hence,

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Ces. There's the point.

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

Ces. And what may follow,
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 target undinted.

Ces. Ant. Lep. That's our offer.
Pom. Know then,

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,
quick-When Cesar and your brothers were at blows,
Your mother came to Sicily, and did find
Her welcome friendly.

I faint; O Iras, Charmian,-Tis no matter:-I
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
Let him for ever go :-Let him not-Charmian,
Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon,
T'other way he's a Mars :-Bid you Alexas
Bring me word, how tall she is.-Pity me,
But do not speak to me.-Lead me to my

SCENE VI.-Near Misenum.

Enter POMPEY and MENAS, at one side, with Drum and Trumpet: at another, CESAR, LEPIDUS, ANTONY, ENOBARBUS, MECENAS, with So diers marching.

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

Ces. Most meet,


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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'the east are soft; and thanks
to you,
That call'd me, timelier than my purpose, hi-
For I have gain'd by it.

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

Pom. Well, I know not


What counts; harsh fortune casts upon my
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

I crave, our composition may be written,
And seal'd between us.

Ces. 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.

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

Ant. You have heard much.
Pom. I have fair meanings, 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 Cesar in a mattress.
Pom. I know thee now;-How far'st thou,

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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 never 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 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; Pray you, is he married to Cleopatra?

Eno. Cesar'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 Cesar, and he, for ever knit together.

Eno. If I were bound to divine of this unity, I would not prophesy 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.t

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 Cesar: 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.

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SCENE VII.-On Board POMPEY'S Galley, lying near Misenum.

Music. Enter two or three SERVANTS, with a Banquet.*

1 Serv. Here they'll be, man: Some o' their plantst are ill-rooted already, the least wind i'the world will blow them down.

2 Serv. Lepidus is high-coloured.

1 Serv. They have made him drink almsdrink.

2 Serv. As they pinch one another by the disposition, he cries out, no more; reconciles them to his entreaty, and himself to the drink. 1 Serv. But it raises the greater war between him and his discretion.

2 Serv. Why, this is to have a name in great men's fellowship; I had as lief have a reed that will do me no service, as a partizan; I could not heave.

1 Serv. To be called 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.

A Sennet sounded. Enter CESAR, ANTONY,
ENOBARBUS, MENAS, with other Captains.
Ant. Thus do they, Sir: [To CESAR.] 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 seeds

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Pom. Say in mine ear: What is't? Men. Forsake thy seat, I do beseech thee, captain, [Aside.

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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.

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Thou art, if thou dar'st be, the earthly Jove:
Whate'er the ocean pales, or sky inclips,t
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 villany; 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'ds fortunes more. Who seeks, and will not take, when once 'tis Shall never find it more.

Pom. This health to Lepidus.


Ant. Bear him ashore.-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. [Pointing to the Attendant who carries off LEPIDUS.

Men. Why?

Eno. He bears

The third part of the world, man; See'st not? Men. The third part then is drunk: 'Would it were all,

That it might go on wheels!

Eno. Drink thou; increase the reels.
Men.. Come.

Pom. This is not yet an Alexandrian feast.
Ant. It ripens towards it.-Strike the ves-
Here is to Cesar.
[sels, ho!

Ces. I could well forbear it.

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Is weaker than the wine; and mine own tongue
Splits what it speaks: the wild disguise hath
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, CESAR, 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 à 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!



SCENE I-A plain in Syria.


Enter VENTIDIUS, as after Conquest, with SILIUs, and other Romans, Officers, and Soldiers; the dead Body of PACORUS borne before him. Ven. Now, darting Parthia, art thou struck; and now

Pleas'd fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death Make me revenger.-Bear the king's son's body Before our army:-Thy Pacorus, Orodes,§ Understand. + Burden, chorus. + Red eyes Pacorus was the son of Orodes, king of Parthia.

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Ven. O Silius, Silius,

I have done enough: A lower place, note well,
May make too great an act: "For learn this,

Better leave undone, than by our deed acquire
Too high a fame, when him we serve's away.
Cesar, 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, [vour.
Which he achiev'd by the minute, lost his fa-
Who does i'the wars more than his captain


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 Antony?

Ven. I'll humbly signify what in his name, That magical word of war, we have effected; How, with his banners, and his well-paid The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia [ranks, We have jaded out o'the field.

Sil. Where is he now?

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To Antony. But as for Cesar,
Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder.
Agr. Both he loves.

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Eno. They are his shards, and he their beetle. So,-[Trumpets. This is to horse.-Adieu, noble Agrippa. Agr. Good fortune, worthy soldier; and farewell.

Enter CESAR, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, and OCTAVIA. Ant. No farther, Sir.

Ces. You take from me a great part of myUse 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 lov'd without this mean, if on both parts
This be not cherish'd.

Ant. Make me not offended
In your distrust.

Čes. 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
We will here part.
Ces. Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee

The elements be kind to thee, and make
Thy spirits all of comfort! fare thee well.
Oct. My noble brother!-

Ant. The April's in her eyes: It is love's spring, [cheerful. And these the showers to bring it on.-Be Oct. Sir, look well to my husband's house; and

Ces. What, Octavia?

Oct. 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 Cesar weep? [Aside to AGRIPPA.
Agr. He has a cloud in's face.

Eno. He were the worse for that, were he a So is he, being a man. [horse;

Agr. Why, Enobarbus?

When Antony found Julius Cesar 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;

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

Ces. No, sweet Octavia,

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

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.

Ces. Adieu; be happy!

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

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