. With the arm'd rest, Courtiers of beauteous freedom, Hath made me rig my Navy. At whose burthen, Caf. Take your time. Ant. Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy Sails, We'll speak with thee at Sea. At Land thou know'ft How much we do o'er-count thee. Pom. At Land indeed Thou doft o'er-count me of my Father's House. Lep. Be pleas'd to tell us, For this is from the prefent now you talk, The offers we have fent you Caf. There's the point. Ant. Which do not be entreated to, but weigh What it is worth embrac❜d. Caf. 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 fend Omnes. That's our offer. Pom. Know then I came before you here, a Man Aut. I have heard it, Pompey, And am well ftudied for a liberal thanks, Pam. Let me have your Hand: I did not think, Sir, to have met you here. C 3 'Ant Ant. The Beds i'th' Eaft are foft, and thanks to you, That call'd me timelier than my purpose hither: For I have gain'd by't. Caf. Since I faw you laft, There is a change upon you. What counts hard Fortune cafts upon my face, Lep. Well met here. Pom. I hope fo Lepidus, thus we are agreed:. I crave our compofition may be written And feal'd between us. Caf. That's the next to do. Pom: We'll feaft each other, e'er we part, and let's Draw lots who shall begin. Ant. That will I, Pompey. Pom. No, Antony, take the lot: Ant. You have heard much. Eno. A certain Queen to Cafar in a Mattrice. Pom. Let me shake thy hand, I never hated thee: I have feen 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 deferv'd ten times as much, As I have faid you did. Pom. Injoy thy plainnefs, It nothing ill becomes thee; Aboard Aboard my Gally, I invite you all. Will you lead, Lords? All. She w's the way, Sir. Pom. Come. [Exeunt. Manent Enob, and Menas. Men. Thy Father, Pompey, would ne'er have made Treaty, You, and I have known, Sir. Eno. At Sea, I think. Men. We have, Sir. Eno. You have done well by Water. Men. And you by Land. Eno. I will praife any Man that will praife me, though it cannot be denied what I have done by Land. Men. Nor what I have done by water. Exo. Yes, fomething you can deny for your own fafety: you have been a good Thief by Sea. Men. And you by Land. Eno. There I deny my Land Service; but give me your Hand, Menas, if your Eyes had authority, here to ey might have two Thieves kiffing. Men. All Mens faces are true, whatfoe'er their hands are. Exo. But there is ne'er a fair Woman, has a true Face Men. No flander, they fteal hearts. Eno. We came hither to fight with you. Men. For my part, I am forry it is turn'd to a dicking. Pompey doth this day laugh away his Fortune.. Eno. If he do, fure he cannot weep't back again. Men. You've faid, Sir; we look'd not for Mark Antony here; pray you, is he married to Cleopatra? Eno. Cafar's Sifter is called Octavia. Men. True, Sir, fhe was the wife of Caius Marcellus. Men. Pray ye, Sir. Eno. 'Tis true. Men. Then is Cafar and be for ever knit together. Eno. If I were bound to Divine of this Unity, I would not Prophefie fo. Men. I think the policy of that purpofe, made more in the Marriage, than the Love of the parties. Ene. I think fo too. But you fhall find the band that feems to tie their friendship together, will be the very eftranger of their Amity: Octavia is of a holy, cold, and ftill converfation: C 4 Men. Men. Who would not have his Wife fo? Eno. Not he that himself is not fo; which is Mark Antony. He will to his Ægyptian dish again; then fhall the fighs of Octavia blow the Fire up in Cafar, and, as I faiď before, that which is the Strength of their Amity, fhall prove the immediate Author of their Variance. Antony will ufe his affection where it is. He married but his occafion.here. Come, Sir, will you Aboard? Men. And thus it may be. I have a health for you. Eno. I fhall take it, Sir: we have us'd our Throats in Ægypt. Men. Come, let's away. SCENE V. [Exeunt. Pompey's Galley. Mufick Plays. Enter two or three Servants with a Banquet. 1 Ser. Here they'll be, Man: fome o' their Plants are ill rooted already, the leaft wind i'th' World will blow them down. 2 Ser. Lepidus is high-colour'd. 1 Ser. They have made him drink Alms drink. 2 Ser. As they pinch one another by the difpofition 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 difcretion. 2 Ser. Why this it is to have a Name in great Mens Fellowship: I had as lieve have a Reed that will do me no fervice, as a Partizan I could not heave. 1 Ser. To be call'd into a huge Sphere, and not to be feen to move in't, are the holes where Eyes fhould be, which pitifully disaster the Cheeks. Trumpets. Enter Cæfar, Antony, Pompey, Lepidus, Agrippa, Mecænas, Enobarbus, Menas, with other Captains. Ant. Thus do they, Sir: they take the flow o'th' Nile By certain fcale, i'th Pyramid; they know By th' height, the lownefs, or the mean, if Dearth The The more it promifes; as it ebbs, the Seedfman Lep. You've strange Serpents there. Ant. Ay, Lepidus. Lep. Your Serpent of Egypt, is bred now of your mud by the Operation of the Sun; to is your Crocodile. Ant. They are so. Pom. Sirrah, fome Wine! A Health to Lepidus. But I'll ne'er out. Eno. Not 'till you have flept; I fear me, you'll be in, 'till then. Lep Nay certainly, I have heard the Ptolomy's Pyramifis are very goodly things; without contradiction I have heard that. Men. Pompey, a word. Pom. Say in mine Ear, what is't? [Afide. [Whisper in's Ear. Men. Forfake thy Seat, I do befeech thee, Captain, And hear me fpeak a word. Pom. For me 'till anon. This Wine for Lepidus. Lep. What manner o'thing is your Crocodile ? Ant. It is fhap'd, Sir, like it felf, and it is as broad as it hath breadth; it is juft fo 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 tranfinigrates. Lep. What colour is it of! Ant. Of it's own colour too. Lep. 'Tis a ftrange Serpent. Ant. 'Tis fo, and the Tears of it are wet. 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 fake of Merit thou wilt hear me, Rife from the Stool. Pom. I think thou'rt mad; the matter? Men. I have ever held my Cap off to thy Fortunes. Pom. |