Mef. 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 fhould make a knave of thee,

That fay'ft but what thou'rt fure of! -Get thee hence,

The merchandifes, thou haft brought from Rome,
Are all too dear for me:

Lie they upon thy hand, and be undone by 'em!
[Exit Mef.

Char. Good your Highness, patience.

Cleo. In prailing Antony, I have difprais'd Cæfar. 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 fhe is: pity me, Charmian,
But speak not to me. Lead me to my chamber.

[Exeunt.

Changes to the Coast of Italy, near Misenum.

Enter Pompey and Menas, at one door, with drum and trumpet: At another, Cæfar, Lepidus, Antony, Enobarbus, Mecænas, Agrippa, with foldiers marching. Pom. OUR hoftages I have, fo have you mine;

Yand we fail talk before we fight.

Caf. Moft meet,

That first we come to words; and therefore have we

Our

Our written purposes before us fent ;
Which, if thou haft confider'd, let us know
If 'twill tie up thy difcontented fword,
And carry back to Sicily much tall youth,
That elfe muft 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 fhould Revengers want,
Having a Son and Friends; fince Julius Cafar,
(Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghofted,)
There faw you labouring for him. What was it,
That mov'd pale Caffius to confpire? and what
Made Thee, all-honour'd, honest Roman Brutus,
With the arm'd reft, 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 burden
The anger'd Ocean foams, with which I meant
To fcourge th' ingratitude that defpightful Rome
Caft on my noble Father.

Caf. Take your time.

Ant. Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy fails, We'll fpeak with thee at fea. 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.
But fince the cuckow builds not for himself,

Remain in't, as thou may'ft.

Lep. Be pleas'd to tell us,

(For this is from the prefent.) how you take

The offers we have sent you.

Caf. There's the point.

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

Caf. And what may follow

To try a larger fortune.

Pom. You've made me offer

Of

Of Sicily, Sardinia: and I muft

Rid all the fea of Pirates; then to fend
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 fome impatience.-Though I lose
The praise of it by telling, you must know,
When Cæfar 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 ftudied 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' Eaft are soft; and thanks to you, That call'd me timelier than my purpose hither: For I've gain'd by it.

Caf. Since I faw you laft,

There is a change upon you.

Pom. Well, I know not,

What counts hard fortune cafts upon my face;

But in my bofom the fhall never come,

To make my heart her vaffal.

Lep. Well met here.

Pomp. 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 cach other, ere we part, and let's Draw lots who shall begin.

Ant. That I will, Pompey.

Pom. No, Antony, take the lot:

But, firft or laft, your fine Egyptian cookery

Shall

Shall have the fame. I've heard, that Julius Cæfar
Grew fat with feafting there.

Ant. You have heard much.
Pom. I have fair meaning, Sir..
Ant. And fair words to them.
Pom. Then fo much have I heard.
And I have heard, Apollodorus carried-
Eno. No more of that: he did fo.
Pom. What, I pray you?

Eno. A certain Queen to Cæfar in a mattress.
Pom. I know thee now, how far'ft thou, Soldier?
Eno. Well;

And well am like to do; for, I perceive,
Four Feafts are toward.

Pom. Let me fhake 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. Enjoy thy plainnefs,

It nothing ill becomes thee;

Aboard my Galley I invite you all.

Will you lead, Lords?

All. Shew's the way, Sir.

Pom. 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 fea, I think.

Men. We have, Sir.

Eno. You have done well by water.

Men. And you by land.

Eno. I will praise 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.

Eno

Eno. Yes, fomething you can deny for your own fafety: you have been a great thief by fea. Men. And you by land.

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

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 flander-they steal hearts.
Eno. We came hither to fight with you.
Men. For my part, I am forry it is turn'd to a Drink-

ing.

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. Eno. But now fhe is the Wife of Marcus Antonius. Men. Pray ye, Sir?

Eno. 'Tis true.

Men. Then is Cæfar 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 fo too. But you fhall find, the band, that seems to tie their friendship together, will be the very ftrangler of their amity: Octavia is of a holy, cold, and ftill converfation.

Men. Who would not have his Wife fo?

Eno. Not he, that himself is not fo; which is Mark Antony. He will to his Egyptian Dish again; then fhall the fighs of Octavia blow the fire up in Cæfar, and, as I faid before, that which is the ftrength 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.

VOL. VIII.

L

Men.