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Mess. Cæsar and he are greater friends than

ever. Cleo. Make thee a fortune from me. Mess.

But yet, madam,Cleo. I do not like ‘But yet,' it does allay 50 The good precedence; fie upon ‘But yet!' 'But yet' is as a gaoler to bring forth Some monstrous malefactor. rithee, 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. Mess. Free, madam! no; I made no such

He's bound unto Octavia.

For what good turn ?
Mess. For the best turn i' the bed.

I am pale, Charmian. Mess. Madam, he's married to Octavia. 60 Cleo. The most infectious pestilence upon thee!

[Strikes him down. Mess. Good madam, patience. Cleo.

What say you? Hence,

[Strikes him again. Horrible villain! or I '11

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 lingering pickle. Mess.

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

hadst Shall make thy peace for moving me to rage; 70 And I will boot* thee with what gift beside Thy modesty can beg.

*Recompense. Mess.

He's married, madam. Cleo. Rogue, thou hast lived too long.

[Draws a knife.


Nay, then I'll run. What mean you, madam? I have made no fault.

[Exit. Char. Good madam, keep yourself within your

self: The man is innocent.

Cleo. Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt.
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. 80

Char. He is afeard to come.

I will not hurt him.

[Exit Charmian. These hands do lack nobility, that they strike A meaner than myself; since I myself Have given myself the cause. Re-enter CHARMIAN and Messenger.

Come hither, sir. 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. Mess.

I have done my duty. Cleo. Is he married ? I cannot hate thee worser than I do,

90 If thou again say “Yes.' Mess.

He's married, madam. Cleo. The gods confound thee! dost thou hold

there still? Mess. Should I lie, madam ? Cleo.

0, I would thou didst,
So half my Egypt were submerged and made
A cistern for scaled snakes! Go, get thee hence:
Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me
Thou wouldst appear most ugly. He is married?

Mess. I crave your highness' pardon.

He is married?
Mess. Take no offencethat I would not offend you:
To punish me for what you make me do
Seems much unequal: he's married to Octavia.
Cleo. O, that his fault should make a knave

of thee,

100 IIO

That art not what thou’rt sure of! Get thee hence: The merchandise which thou hast brought from

Rome Are all too dear for me: lie they upon thy hand, And be undone by 'em!

[Exit Messenger. Char.

Good your highness, patience. Cleo. In praising Antony, I have dispraised

Char. Many times, madam.

I am paid for't now.
Lead me from hence;
I faint: 0 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.

*Person in general.

[Exit Alexas. Let him for ever go:- let him not-Charmian, Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon, The other way's a Mars. Bid you Alexas

[To Mardian. Bring me word how tall she is. Pity me, Char

mian, But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber.


SCENE VI. Near Misenum. Flourish. Enter POMPEY and MENAS at one side,

with drum and trumpet : at another, CÆSAR, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, ENOBARBUS, MECÆNAS, 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


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.

To you all three,


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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't
That moved pale Cassius to conspire; and what
Made the all-honour'd, honest Roman, Brutus,
With the arm'd rest, courtiers of beauteous free-

To drench the Capitol; but that they would
Have one man but a man? And that is it 19
Hath made me rig my navy; at whose burthen
The anger'd ocean foams; with which I meant
To scourge the ingratitude that despiteful Rome
Cast on my noble father.

Take your time. Ant. Thou canst not fear* us, Pompey, with thy sails;

*Affright. 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 cuckoo builds not for himself, Remain in't as thou mayst. Lep.

Be pleased to tell usFor this is from the present-how you take

30 The offers we have sent you. Cæs.

There's the point. Ant. Which do not be entreated to, but weigh What it is worth embraced. Cæs.

And what may follow,
To try a larger fortune.

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 targes* undinted

*Targets. Cæs. Ant. Lep. That's our offer. Pom.

Know, then, 40 I came before you here a man prepared

to you,

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.

I have heard it, Pompey;
And am well studied for a liberal thanks
Which I do owe you.

Let me have your hand:
I did not think, sir, to have met you here. 50

Ant. The beds i’ the east are soft; and thanks
That call'd me timelier than my purpose hither;
For I have gain’d by't.

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

Well, I know not
What counts harsh fortune casts upon my face;
But in my bosom shall she never come,
To make my heart her vassal.

Well met here.
Pom. I hope so, Lepidus. Thus we åre

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

That's the next to do. 60 Pom. We'll feast each other ere we part;

and let's 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 faine. I have heard that Julius

Grew fat with feasting there.

You have heard much.
Pom. I have fair meanings, sir.

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.

What, I pray you ? 70

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