Lod. Where is this rash, and most vnfortunate man?Oth. That's he that was Othello: heere I am
Lod. Where is that Viper?Bring the Villaine forth
Oth. I look down towards his feet; but that's a Fable,If that thou bee'st a Diuell, I cannot kill thee
Lod. Wrench his Sword from him
Iago. I bleed Sir, but not kill'd
Othel. I am not sorry neither, Il'd haue thee liue:For in my sense, 'tis happinesse to die
Lod. Oh thou Othello, that was once so good,Falne in the practise of a cursed Slaue,What shall be saide to thee
Oth. Why any thing:An honourable Murderer, if you will:For nought I did in hate, but all in Honour
Lod. This wretch hath part confest his Villany:Did you and he consent in Cassio's death
Oth. I
Cas. Deere Generall, I neuer gaue you cause
Oth. I do beleeue it, and I aske your pardon:Will you, I pray, demand that demy-Diuell,Why he hath thus ensnar'd my Soule and Body
Iag. Demand me nothing: what you know, you know:From this time forth, I neuer will speake word
Lod. What? not to pray?Gra. Torments will ope your lips
Oth. Well, thou dost best
Lod. Sir,You shall vnderstand what hath befalne,(Which, as I thinke, you know not) heere is a LetterFound in the pocket of the slaine Rodorigo,And heere another, the one of them importsThe death of Cassio, to be vndertookeBy Rodorigo
Oth. O Villaine!Cassio. Most Heathenish, and most grosse
Lod. Now, heere's another discontented paperFound in his pocket too: and this it seemesRodorigo meant t'haue sent this damned villaine:But that (belike) Iago in the interimCame in, and satisfi'd him
Oth. Oh thou pernitious Caitiffe;How came you (Cassio) by that HandkerchiefeThat was my wiues?Cassio. I found it in my Chamber:And he himselfe confest it but euen now,That there he dropt it for a speciall purpose,Which wrought to his desire
Othel. O Foole, foole, foole!Cassio. There is besides, in Rodorigo's Letter,How he vpbraides Iago, that he made himBraue me vpon the Watch: whereon it cameThat I was cast: and euen but now he spake(After long seeming dead) Iago hurt him,Iago set him on
Lod. You must forsake this roome, and go with vs:Your Power, and your Command is taken off,And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this Slaue,If there be any cunning Crueltie,That can torment him much, and hold him long,It shall be his. You shall close Prisoner rest,Till that the Nature of your fault be knowneTo the Venetian State. Come, bring away
Oth. Soft you; a word or two before you goe:I haue done the State some seruice, and they know't:No more of that. I pray you in your Letters,When you shall these vnluckie deeds relate,Speake of me, as I am. Nothing extenuate,Nor set downe ought in malice.Then must you speake,Of one that lou'd not wisely, but too well:Of one, not easily Iealious, but being wrought,Perplexed in the extreame: Of one, whose hand(Like the base Iudean) threw a Pearle awayRicher then all his Tribe: Of one, whose subdu'd Eyes,Albeit vn-vsed to the melting moode,Drops teares as fast as the Arabian TreesTheir Medicinable gumme. Set you downe this:And say besides, that in Aleppo once,Where a malignant, and a Turbond-TurkeBeate a Venetian, and traduc'd the State,I tooke by th' throat the circumcised Dogge,And smoate him, thus
Lod. Oh bloody period
Gra. All that is spoke, is marr'd
Oth. I kist thee, ere I kill'd thee: No way but this,Killing my selfe, to dye vpon a kisse.
Dyes
Cas. This did I feare, but thought he had no weapon:For he was great of heart
Lod. Oh Sparton Dogge:More fell then Anguish, Hunger, or the Sea:Looke on the Tragicke Loading of this bed:This is thy worke:The Obiect poysons Sight,Let it be hid. Gratiano, keepe the house,And seize vpon the Fortunes of the Moore,For they succeede on you. To you, Lord Gouernor,Remaines the Censure of this hellish villaine:The Time, the Place, the Torture, oh inforce it:My selfe will straight aboord, and to the State,This heauie Act, with heauie heart relate.
Exeunt.
The Names of the Actors.
Othello, the Moore.Brabantio, Father to Desdemona.Cassio, an Honourable Lieutenant.Iago, a Villaine.Rodorigo, a gull'd Gentleman.Duke of Venice.Senators.Montano, Gouernour of Cyprus.Gentlemen of Cyprus.Lodouico, and Gratiano, two Noble Venetians.Saylors.Clowne.Desdemona, Wife to Othello.Aemilia, Wife to Iago.Bianca, a Curtezan.
THE TRAGEDIE OF Othello, the Moore of Venice.
The Tragedie of Anthonie, and Cleopatra
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
Enter Demetrius and Philo.
Philo. Nay, but this dotage of our GeneralsOre-flowes the measure: those his goodly eyesThat o're the Files and Musters of the Warre,Haue glow'd like plated Mars:Now bend, now turneThe Office and Deuotion of their viewVpon a Tawny Front. His Captaines heart,Which in the scuffles of great Fights hath burstThe Buckles on his brest, reneages all temper,And is become the Bellowes and the FanTo coole a Gypsies Lust.
Flourish. Enter Anthony, Cleopatra, her Ladies, the Traine, with Eunuchs fanning her.
Looke where they come:Take but good note, and you shall see in him(The triple Pillar of the world) transform'dInto a Strumpets Foole. Behold and see
Cleo. If it be Loue indeed, tell me how much
Ant. There's beggery in the loue that can be reckon'dCleo. Ile set a bourne how farre to be belou'd
Ant. Then must thou needes finde out new Heauen,new Earth.Enter a Messenger.
Mes. Newes (my good Lord) from Rome
Ant. Grates me, the summe
Cleo. Nay heare them Anthony.Fuluia perchance is angry: Or who knowes,If the scarse-bearded Caesar haue not sentHis powrefull Mandate to you. Do this, or this;Take in that Kingdome, and Infranchise that:Perform't, or else we damne thee
Ant. How, my Loue?Cleo. Perchance? Nay, and most like:You must not stay heere longer, your dismissionIs come from Caesar, therefore heare it Anthony,Where's Fuluias Processe? (Caesars I would say) both?Call in the Messengers: As I am Egypts Queene,Thou blushest Anthony, and that blood of thineIs Caesars homager: else so thy cheeke payes shame,When shrill-tongu'd Fuluia scolds. The Messengers
Ant. Let Rome in Tyber melt, and the wide ArchOf the raing'd Empire fall: Heere is my space,Kingdomes are clay: Our dungie earth alikeFeeds Beast as Man; the Noblenesse of lifeIs to do thus: when such a mutuall paire,And such a twaine can doo't, in which I bindeOne paine of punishment, the world to weeteWe stand vp Peerelesse
Cleo. Excellent falshood:Why did he marry Fuluia, and not loue her?Ile seeme the Foole I am not. Anthony will be himselfe
Ant. But stirr'd by Cleopatra.Now for the loue of Loue, and her soft houres,Let's not confound the time with Conference harsh;There's not a minute of our liues should stretchWithout some pleasure now. What sport to night?Cleo. Heare the Ambassadors
Ant. Fye wrangling Queene:Whom euery thing becomes, to chide, to laugh,To weepe: who euery passion fully striuesTo make it selfe (in Thee) faire, and admir'd.No Messenger but thine, and all alone, to nightWee'l wander through the streets, and noteThe qualities of people. Come my Queene,Last night you did desire it. Speake not to vs.
Exeunt. with the Traine.
Dem. Is Caesar with Anthonius priz'd so slight?Philo. Sir, sometimes when he is not Anthony,He comes too short of that great PropertyWhich still should go with Anthony
Dem. I am full sorry, that hee approues the common Lyar, who thus speakes of him at Rome; but I will hope of better deeds to morrow. Rest you happy.
Exeunt.
Enter Enobarbus, Lamprius, a Southsayer, Rannius, Lucillius,Charmian,Iras, Mardian the Eunuch, and Alexas.
Char. L[ord]. Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, almost most absolute Alexas, where's the Soothsayer that you prais'd so to'th' Queene? Oh that I knewe this Husband, which you say, must change his Hornes with Garlands
Alex. Soothsayer
Sooth. Your will?Char. Is this the Man? Is't you sir that know things?Sooth. In Natures infinite booke of Secrecie, a little Ican read
Alex. Shew him your hand
Enob. Bring in the Banket quickly: Wine enough,Cleopatra's health to drinke
Char. Good sir, giue me good Fortune
Sooth. I make not, but foresee
Char. Pray then, foresee me one
Sooth. You shall be yet farre fairer then you are
Char. He meanes in flesh
Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old
Char. Wrinkles forbid
Alex. Vex not his prescience, be attentiue
Char. Hush
Sooth. You shall be more belouing, then beloued
Char. I had rather heate my Liuer with drinking
Alex. Nay, heare him
Char. Good now some excellent Fortune: Let mee be married to three Kings in a forenoone, and Widdow them all: Let me haue a Childe at fifty, to whom Herode of Iewry may do Homage. Finde me to marrie me with Octauius Caesar, and companion me with my Mistris
Sooth. You shall out-liue the Lady whom you serue
Char. Oh excellent, I loue long life better then Figs
Sooth. You haue seene and proued a fairer former fortune,then that which is to approach
Char. Then belike my Children shall haue no names:Prythee how many Boyes and Wenches must I haue
Sooth. If euery of your wishes had a wombe, & foretelleuery wish, a Million
Char. Out Foole, I forgiue thee for a Witch
Alex. You thinke none but your sheets are priuie to your wishes
Char. Nay come, tell Iras hers
Alex. Wee'l know all our Fortunes
Enob. Mine, and most of our Fortunes to night, shall be drunke to bed
Iras. There's a Palme presages Chastity, if nothing els
Char. E'ne as the o're-flowing Nylus presageth Famine
Iras. Go you wilde Bedfellow, you cannot Soothsay
Char. Nay, if an oyly Palme bee not a fruitfull Prognostication, I cannot scratch mine eare. Prythee tel her but a worky day Fortune
Sooth. Your Fortunes are alike
Iras. But how, but how, giue me particulars
Sooth. I haue said
Iras. Am I not an inch of Fortune better then she?Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune betterthen I: where would you choose it
Iras. Not in my Husbands nose
Char. Our worser thoughts Heauens mend
Alexas. Come, his Fortune, his Fortune. Oh let him mary a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee, and let her dye too, and giue him a worse, and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his graue, fifty-fold a Cuckold. Good Isis heare me this Prayer, though thou denie me a matter of more waight: good Isis I beseech thee
Iras. Amen, deere Goddesse, heare that prayer of the people. For, as it is a heart-breaking to see a handsome man loose-Wiu'd, so it is a deadly sorrow, to beholde a foule Knaue vncuckolded: Therefore deere Isis keep decorum, and Fortune him accordingly
Char. Amen
Alex. Lo now, if it lay in their hands to make mee aCuckold, they would make themselues Whores, butthey'ld doo't.Enter Cleopatra.
Enob. Hush, heere comes Anthony
Char. Not he, the Queene
Cleo. Saue you, my Lord
Enob. No Lady
Cleo. Was he not heere?Char. No Madam
Cleo. He was dispos'd to mirth, but on the sodaineA Romane thought hath strooke him.Enobarbus?Enob. Madam
Cleo. Seeke him, and bring him hither: wher's Alexias?Alex. Heere at your seruice.My Lord approaches.Enter Anthony, with a Messenger.
Cleo. We will not looke vpon him:Go with vs.
Exeunt.
Messen. Fuluia thy Wife,First came into the Field
Ant. Against my Brother Lucius?Messen. I: but soone that Warre had end,And the times stateMade friends of them, ioynting their force 'gainst Caesar,Whose better issue in the warre from Italy,Vpon the first encounter draue them
Ant. Well, what worst
Mess. The Nature of bad newes infects the Teller
Ant. When it concernes the Foole or Coward: On.Things that are past, are done, with me. 'Tis thus,Who tels me true, though in his Tale lye death,I heare him as he flatter'd
Mes. Labienus (this is stiffe-newes)Hath with his Parthian ForceExtended Asia: from Euphrates his conqueringBanner shooke, from Syria to Lydia,And to Ionia, whil'st-Ant. Anthony thou would'st say
Mes. Oh my Lord
Ant. Speake to me home,Mince not the generall tongue, nameCleopatra as she is call'd in Rome:Raile thou in Fuluia's phrase, and taunt my faultsWith such full License, as both Truth and MaliceHaue power to vtter. Oh then we bring forth weeds,When our quicke windes lye still, and our illes told vsIs as our earing: fare thee well awhile
Mes. At your Noble pleasure.
Exit Messenger
Enter another Messenger.
Ant. From Scicion how the newes? Speake there
1.Mes. The man from Scicion,Is there such an one?2.Mes. He stayes vpon your will
Ant. Let him appeare:These strong Egyptian Fetters I must breake,Or loose my selfe in dotage.Enter another Messenger with a Letter.
What are you?3.Mes. Fuluia thy wife is dead
Ant. Where dyed she
Mes. In Scicion, her length of sicknesse,With what else more serious,Importeth thee to know, this beares
Antho. Forbeare meThere's a great Spirit gone, thus did I desire it:What our contempts doth often hurle from vs,We wish it ours againe. The present pleasure,By reuolution lowring, does becomeThe opposite of it selfe: she's good being gon,The hand could plucke her backe, that shou'd her on.I must from this enchanting Queene breake off,Ten thousand harmes, more then the illes I knowMy idlenesse doth hatch.Enter Enobarbus.
How now Enobarbus
Eno. What's your pleasure, Sir?Anth. I must with haste from hence
Eno. Why then we kill all our Women. We see how mortall an vnkindnesse is to them, if they suffer our departure death's the word
Ant. I must be gone
Eno. Vnder a compelling an occasion, let women die. It were pitty to cast them away for nothing, though betweene them and a great cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra catching but the least noyse of this, dies instantly: I haue seene her dye twenty times vppon farre poorer moment: I do think there is mettle in death, which commits some louing acte vpon her, she hath such a celerity in dying
Ant. She is cunning past mans thought
Eno. Alacke Sir no, her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure Loue. We cannot cal her winds and waters, sighes and teares: They are greater stormes and Tempests then Almanackes can report. This cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a showre of Raine as well as Ioue
Ant. Would I had neuer seene her
Eno. Oh sir, you had then left vnseene a wonderfull peece of worke, which not to haue beene blest withall, would haue discredited your Trauaile
Ant. Fuluia is dead
Eno. Sir
Ant. Fuluia is dead
Eno. Fuluia?Ant. Dead
Eno. Why sir, giue the Gods a thankefull Sacrifice: when it pleaseth their Deities to take the wife of a man from him, it shewes to man the Tailors of the earth: comforting therein, that when olde Robes are worne out, there are members to make new. If there were no more Women but Fuluia, then had you indeede a cut, and the case to be lamented: This greefe is crown'd with Consolation, your old Smocke brings foorth a new Petticoate, and indeed the teares liue in an Onion, that should water this sorrow
Ant. The businesse she hath broached in the State,Cannot endure my absence
Eno. And the businesse you haue broach'd heere cannot be without you, especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your abode
Ant. No more light Answeres:Let our OfficersHaue notice what we purpose. I shall breakeThe cause of our Expedience to the Queene,And get her loue to part. For not aloneThe death of Fuluia, with more vrgent touchesDo strongly speake to vs: but the Letters tooOf many our contriuing Friends in Rome,Petition vs at home. Sextus PompeiusHaue giuen the dare to Caesar, and commandsThe Empire of the Sea. Our slippery people,Whose Loue is neuer link'd to the deseruer,Till his deserts are past, begin to throwPompey the great, and all his DignitiesVpon his Sonne, who high in Name and Power,Higher then both in Blood and Life, stands vpFor the maine Souldier. Whose quality going on,The sides o'th' world may danger. Much is breeding,Which like the Coursers heire, hath yet but life,And not a Serpents poyson. Say our pleasure,To such whose places vnder vs, requireOur quicke remoue from hence
Enob. I shall doo't.Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas, and Iras.
Cleo. Where is he?Char. I did not see him since
Cleo. See where he is,Whose with him, what he does:I did not send you. If you finde him sad,Say I am dauncing: if in Myrth, reportThat I am sodaine sicke. Quicke, and returne
Char. Madam, me thinkes if you did loue him deerly,You do not hold the method, to enforceThe like from him
Cleo. What should I do, I do not?Ch. In each thing giue him way, crosse him in nothing
Cleo. Thou teachest like a foole: the way to lose him
Char. Tempt him not so too farre. I wish forbeare,In time we hate that which we often feare.Enter Anthony.
But heere comes Anthony
Cleo. I am sicke, and sullen
An. I am sorry to giue breathing to my purpose
Cleo. Helpe me away deere Charmian, I shall fall,It cannot be thus long, the sides of NatureWill not sustaine it
Ant. Now my deerest Queene
Cleo. Pray you stand farther from mee
Ant. What's the matter?Cleo. I know by that same eye ther's some good news.What sayes the married woman you may goe?Would she had neuer giuen you leaue to come.Let her not say 'tis I that keepe you heere,I haue no power vpon you: Hers you are
Ant. The Gods best know
Cleo. Oh neuer was there QueeneSo mightily betrayed: yet at the firstI saw the Treasons planted
Ant. Cleopatra
Cleo. Why should I thinke you can be mine, & true,(Though you in swearing shake the Throaned Gods)Who haue beene false to Fuluia?Riotous madnesse,To be entangled with those mouth-made vowes,Which breake themselues in swearing
Ant. Most sweet Queene
Cleo. Nay pray you seeke no colour for your going,But bid farewell, and goe:When you sued staying,Then was the time for words: No going then,Eternity was in our Lippes, and Eyes,Blisse in our browes bent: none our parts so poore,But was a race of Heauen. They are so still,Or thou the greatest Souldier of the world,Art turn'd the greatest Lyar
Ant. How now Lady?Cleo. I would I had thy inches, thou should'st knowThere were a heart in Egypt
Ant. Heare me Queene:The strong necessity of Time, commandsOur Seruices a-while: but my full heartRemaines in vse with you. Our Italy,Shines o're with ciuill Swords; Sextus PompeiusMakes his approaches to the Port of Rome,Equality of two Domesticke powers,Breed scrupulous faction: The hated growne to strengthAre newly growne to Loue: The condemn'd Pompey,Rich in his Fathers Honor, creepes apaceInto the hearts of such, as haue not thriuedVpon the present state, whose Numbers threaten,And quietnesse growne sicke of rest, would purgeBy any desperate change: My more particular,And that which most with you should safe my going,Is Fuluias death
Cleo. Though age from folly could not giue me freedomIt does from childishnesse. Can Fuluia dye?Ant. She's dead my Queene.Looke heere, and at thy Soueraigne leysure readThe Garboyles she awak'd: at the last, best,See when, and where shee died
Cleo. O most false Loue!Where be the Sacred Violles thou should'st fillWith sorrowfull water? Now I see, I see,In Fuluias death, how mine receiu'd shall be
Ant. Quarrell no more, but bee prepar'd to knowThe purposes I beare: which are, or cease,As you shall giue th' aduice. By the fireThat quickens Nylus slime, I go from henceThy Souldier, Seruant, making Peace or Warre,As thou affects
Cleo. Cut my Lace, Charmian come,But let it be, I am quickly ill, and well,So Anthony loues
Ant. My precious Queene forbeare,And giue true euidence to his Loue, which standsAn honourable Triall
Cleo. So Fuluia told me.I prythee turne aside, and weepe for her,Then bid adiew to me, and say the tearesBelong to Egypt. Good now, play one SceneOf excellent dissembling, and let it lookeLike perfect Honor
Ant. You'l heat my blood no more?Cleo. You can do better yet: but this is meetly
Ant. Now by Sword
Cleo. And Target. Still he mends.But this is not the best. Looke prythee Charmian,How this Herculean Roman do's becomeThe carriage of his chafe
Ant. Ile leaue you Lady
Cleo. Courteous Lord, one word:Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it:Sir, you and I haue lou'd, but there's not it:That you know well, something it is I would:Oh, my Obliuion is a very Anthony,And I am all forgotten
Ant. But that your RoyaltyHolds Idlenesse your subiect, I should take youFor Idlenesse it selfe
Cleo. 'Tis sweating Labour,To beare such Idlenesse so neere the heartAs Cleopatra this. But Sir, forgiue me,Since my becommings kill me, when they do notEye well to you. Your Honor calles you hence,Therefore be deafe to my vnpittied Folly,And all the Gods go with you. Vpon your SwordSit Lawrell victory, and smooth successeBe strew'd before your feete
Ant. Let vs go.Come: Our separation so abides and flies,That thou reciding heere, goes yet with mee;And I hence fleeting, heere remaine with thee.Away.
Exeunt.
Enter Octauius reading a Letter, Lepidus, and their Traine.
Caes You may see Lepidus, and henceforth know,It is not Caesars Naturall vice, to hateOne great Competitor. From AlexandriaThis is the newes: He fishes, drinkes, and wastesThe Lampes of night in reuell: Is not more manlikeThen Cleopatra: nor the Queene of PtolomyMore Womanly then he. Hardly gaue audienceOr vouchsafe to thinke he had Partners. YouShall finde there a man, who is th' abstracts of all faults,That all men follow
Lep. I must not thinkeThere are, euils enow to darken all his goodnesse:His faults in him, seeme as the Spots of Heauen,More fierie by nights Blacknesse; Hereditarie,Rather then purchaste: what he cannot change,Then what he chooses
Caes You are too indulgent. Let's graunt it is notAmisse to tumble on the bed of Ptolomy,To giue a Kingdome for a Mirth, to sitAnd keepe the turne of Tipling with a Slaue,To reele the streets at noone, and stand the BuffetWith knaues that smels of sweate: Say this becoms him(As his composure must be rare indeed,Whom these things cannot blemish) yet must AnthonyNo way excuse his foyles, when we do beareSo great waight in his lightnesse. If he fill'dHis vacancie with his Voluptuousnesse,Full surfets, and the drinesse of his bones,Call on him for't. But to confound such time,That drummes him from his sport, and speakes as lowdAs his owne State, and ours, 'tis to be chid:As we rate Boyes, who being mature in knowledge,Pawne their experience to their present pleasure,And so rebell to iudgement.Enter a Messenger.
Lep. Heere's more newes
Mes. Thy biddings haue beene done, & euerie houreMost Noble Caesar, shalt thou haue reportHow 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at Sea,And it appeares, he is belou'd of thoseThat only haue feard Caesar: to the PortsThe discontents repaire, and mens reportsGiue him much wrong'd
Caes I should haue knowne no lesse,It hath bin taught vs from the primall stateThat he which is was wisht, vntill he were:And the ebb'd man,Ne're lou'd, till ne're worth loue,Comes fear'd, by being lack'd. This common bodie,Like to a Vagabond Flagge vpon the Streame,Goes too, and backe, lacking the varrying tydeTo rot it selfe with motion
Mes. Caesar I bring thee word,Menacrates and Menas famous PyratesMakes the Sea serue them, which they eare and woundWith keeles of euery kinde. Many hot inrodesThey make in Italy, the Borders MaritimeLacke blood to thinke on't, and flush youth reuolt,No Vessell can peepe forth: but 'tis as sooneTaken as seene: for Pompeyes name strikes moreThen could his Warre resistedCaesar. Anthony,Leaue thy lasciuious Vassailes. When thou onceWas beaten from Medena, where thou slew'stHirsius, and Pansa Consuls, at thy heeleDid Famine follow, whom thou fought'st against,(Though daintily brought vp) with patience moreThen Sauages could suffer. Thou did'st drinkeThe stale of Horses, and the gilded PuddleWhich Beasts would cough at. Thy pallat the[n] did daineThe roughest Berry, on the rudest Hedge.Yea, like the Stagge, when Snow the Pasture sheets,The barkes of Trees thou brows'd. On the Alpes,It is reported thou did'st eate strange flesh,Which some did dye to looke on: And all this(It wounds thine Honor that I speake it now)Was borne so like a Soldiour, that thy cheekeSo much as lank'd not
Lep. 'Tis pitty of him
Caes Let his shames quickelyDriue him to Rome, 'tis time we twaineDid shew our selues i'th' Field, and to that endAssemble me immediate counsell, PompeyThriues in our Idlenesse
Lep. To morrow Caesar,I shall be furnisht to informe you rightlyBoth what by Sea and Land I can be ableTo front this present time
Caes Til which encounter, it is my busines too. Farwell
Lep. Farwell my Lord, what you shal know mean timeOf stirres abroad, I shall beseech you SirTo let me be partaker
Caesar. Doubt not sir, I knew it for my Bond.
Exeunt.
Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, & Mardian.
Cleo. Charmian
Char. Madam
Cleo. Ha, ha, giue me to drinke Mandragora
Char. Why Madam?Cleo. That I might sleepe out this great gap of time:My Anthony is away
Char. You thinke of him too much
Cleo. O 'tis Treason
Char. Madam, I trust not so
Cleo. Thou, Eunuch Mardian?Mar. What's your Highnesse pleasure?Cleo. Not now to heare thee sing. I take no pleasureIn ought an Eunuch ha's: Tis well for thee,That being vnseminar'd, thy freer thoughtsMay not flye forth of Egypt. Hast thou Affections?Mar. Yes gracious Madam
Cleo. Indeed?Mar. Not in deed Madam, for I can do nothingBut what in deede is honest to be done:Yet haue I fierce Affections, and thinkeWhat Venus did with Mars
Cleo. Oh Charmion:Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he?Or does he walke? Or is he on his Horse?Oh happy horse to beare the weight of Anthony!Do brauely Horse, for wot'st thou whom thou moou'st,The demy Atlas of this Earth, the ArmeAnd Burganet of men. Hee's speaking now,Or murmuring, where's my Serpent of old Nyle,(For so he cals me:) Now I feede my selfeWith most delicious poyson. Thinke on meThat am with Phoebus amorous pinches blacke,And wrinkled deepe in time. Broad-fronted Caesar,When thou was't heere aboue the ground, I wasA morsell for a Monarke: and great PompeyWould stand and make his eyes grow in my brow,There would he anchor his Aspect, and dyeWith looking on his life.Enter Alexas from Caesar.
Alex. Soueraigne of Egypt, haile
Cleo. How much vnlike art thou Marke Anthony?Yet comming from him, that great Med'cine hathWith his Tinct gilded thee.How goes it with my braue Marke Anthonie?Alex. Last thing he did (deere Queene)He kist the last of many doubled kissesThis Orient Pearle. His speech stickes in my heart
Cleo. Mine eare must plucke it thence
Alex. Good Friend, quoth he:Say the firme Roman to great Egypt sendsThis treasure of an Oyster: at whose footeTo mend the petty present, I will peeceHer opulent Throne, with Kingdomes. All the East,(Say thou) shall call her Mistris. So he nodded,And soberly did mount an Arme-gaunt Steede,Who neigh'd so hye, that what I would haue spoke,Was beastly dumbe by him
Cleo. What was he sad, or merry?Alex. Like to the time o'th' yeare, between y extremesOf hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merrie
Cleo. Oh well diuided disposition: Note him,Note him good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note him.He was not sad, for he would shine on thoseThat make their lookes by his. He was not merrie,Which seem'd to tell them, his remembrance layIn Egypt with his ioy, but betweene both.Oh heauenly mingle! Bee'st thou sad, or merrie,The violence of either thee becomes,So do's it no mans else. Met'st thou my Posts?Alex. I Madam, twenty seuerall Messengers.Why do you send so thicke?Cleo. Who's borne that day, when I forget to sendto Anthonie, shall dye a Begger. Inke and paper Charmian.Welcome my good Alexas. Did I Charmian, euerloue Caesar so?Char. Oh that braue Caesar!Cleo. Be choak'd with such another Emphasis,Say the braue Anthony
Char. The valiant Caesar
Cleo. By Isis, I will giue thee bloody teeth,If thou with Caesar Paragon againe:My man of men
Char. By your most gracious pardon,I sing but after you
Cleo. My Sallad dayes,When I was greene in iudgement, cold in blood,To say, as I saide then. But come, away,Get me Inke and Paper,he shall haue euery day a seuerall greeting, or Ile vnpeopleEgypt.
Exeunt.
Enter Pompey, Menecrates, and Menas, in warlike manner.
Pom. If the great Gods be iust, they shall assistThe deeds of iustest men
Mene. Know worthy Pompey, that what they do delay,they not deny
Pom. Whiles we are sutors to their Throne, decayesthe thing we sue for
Mene. We ignorant of our selues,Begge often our owne harmes, which the wise PowresDeny vs for our good: so finde we profitBy loosing of our Prayers
Pom. I shall do well:The people loue me, and the Sea is mine;My powers are Cressent, and my Auguring hopeSayes it will come to'th' full. Marke AnthonyIn Egypt sits at dinner, and will makeNo warres without doores. Caesar gets money whereHe looses hearts: Lepidus flatters both,Of both is flatter'd: but he neither loues,Nor either cares for him
Mene. Caesar and Lepidus are in the field,A mighty strength they carry
Pom. Where haue you this? 'Tis false
Mene. From Siluius, Sir
Pom. He dreames: I know they are in Rome togetherLooking for Anthony: but all the charmes of Loue,Salt Cleopatra soften thy wand lip,Let Witchcraft ioyne with Beauty, Lust with both,Tye vp the Libertine in a field of Feasts,Keepe his Braine fuming. Epicurean Cookes,Sharpen with cloylesse sawce his Appetite,That sleepe and feeding may prorogue his Honour,Euen till a Lethied dulnesse-Enter Varrius.
How now Varrius?Var. This is most certaine, that I shall deliuer:Marke Anthony is euery houre in RomeExpected. Since he went from Egypt, 'tisA space for farther Trauaile
Pom. I could haue giuen lesse matterA better eare. Menas, I did not thinkeThis amorous Surfetter would haue donn'd his HelmeFor such a petty Warre: His SouldiershipIs twice the other twaine: But let vs reareThe higher our Opinion, that our stirringCan from the lap of Egypts Widdow, pluckeThe neere Lust-wearied Anthony
Mene. I cannot hope,Caesar and Anthony shall well greet together;His Wife that's dead, did trespasses to Caesar,His Brother wan'd vpon him, although I thinkeNot mou'd by Anthony
Pom. I know not Menas,How lesser Enmities may giue way to greater,Were't not that we stand vp against them all:'Twer pregnant they should square between themselues,For they haue entertained cause enoughTo draw their swords: but how the feare of vsMay Ciment their diuisions, and binde vpThe petty difference, we yet not know:Bee't as our Gods will haue't; it onely standsOur liues vpon, to vse our strongest handsCome Menas.
Exeunt.
Enter Enobarbus and Lepidus.
Lep. Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed,And shall become you well, to intreat your CaptaineTo soft and gentle speech
Enob. I shall intreat himTo answer like himselfe: if Caesar moue him,Let Anthony looke ouer Caesars head,And speake as lowd as Mars. By Iupiter,Were I the wearer of Anthonio's Beard,I would not shaue't to day
Lep. 'Tis not a time for priuate stomacking
Eno. Euery time serues for the matter that is then borne in't
Lep. But small to greater matters must giue way
Eno. Not if the small come first
Lep. Your speech is passion: but pray you stirreNo Embers vp. Heere comes the Noble Anthony.Enter Anthony and Ventidius.
Eno. And yonder Caesar.Enter Caesar, Mecenas, and Agrippa.
Ant. If we compose well heere, to Parthia:Hearke Ventidius
Caesar. I do not know Mecenas, aske Agrippa
Lep. Noble Friends:That which combin'd vs was most great, and let notA leaner action rend vs. What's amisse,May it be gently heard. When we debateOur triuiall difference loud, we do commitMurther in healing wounds. Then Noble Partners,The rather for I earnestly beseech,Touch you the sowrest points with sweetest tearmes,Nor curstnesse grow to'th' matter
Ant. 'Tis spoken well:Were we before our Armies, and to fight,I should do thus.Flourish.
Caes Welcome to Rome
Ant. Thanke you
Caes Sit
Ant. Sit sir
Caes Nay then
Ant. I learne, you take things ill, which are not so:Or being, concerne you not
Caes I must be laught at, if or for nothing, or a little, IShould say my selfe offended, and with youChiefely i'th' world. More laught at, that I shouldOnce name you derogately: when to sound your nameIt not concern'd me
Ant. My being in Egypt Caesar, what was't to you?Caes No more then my reciding heere at RomeMight be to you in Egypt: yet if you thereDid practise on my State, your being in EgyptMight be my question
Ant. How intend you, practis'd?Caes You may be pleas'd to catch at mine intent,By what did heere befall me. Your Wife and BrotherMade warres vpon me, and their contestationWas Theame for you, you were the word of warre
Ant. You do mistake your busines, my Brother neuerDid vrge me in his Act: I did inquire it.And haue my Learning from some true reportsThat drew their swords with you, did he not ratherDiscredit my authority with yours,And make the warres alike against my stomacke,Hauing alike your cause. Of this, my LettersBefore did satisfie you. If you'l patch a quarrell,As matter whole you haue to make it with,It must not be with this
Caes You praise your selfe, by laying defects of iudgementto me: but you patcht vp your excuses
Anth. Not so, not so:I know you could not lacke, I am certaine on't,Very necessity of this thought, that IYour Partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought,Could not with gracefull eyes attend those WarresWhich fronted mine owne peace. As for my wife,I would you had her spirit, in such another,The third oth' world is yours, which with a Snaffle,You may pace easie, but not such a wife
Enobar. Would we had all such wiues, that the menmight go to Warres with the women
Anth. So much vncurbable, her Garboiles (Caesar)Made out of her impatience: which not wantedShrodenesse of policie to: I greeuing grant,Did you too much disquiet, for that you must,But say I could not helpe it
Caesar. I wrote to you, when rioting in Alexandria youDid pocket vp my Letters: and with tauntsDid gibe my Misiue out of audience
Ant. Sir, he fell vpon me, ere admitted, then:Three Kings I had newly feasted, and did wantOf what I was i'th' morning: but next dayI told him of my selfe, which was as muchAs to haue askt him pardon. Let this FellowBe nothing of our strife: if we contendOut of our question wipe him
Caesar. You haue broken the Article of your oath,which you shall neuer haue tongue to charge me with
Lep. Soft Caesar
Ant. No Lepidus, let him speake,The Honour is Sacred which he talks on now,Supposing that I lackt it: but on Caesar,The Article of my oath
Caesar. To lend me Armes, and aide when I requir'dthem, the which you both denied
Anth. Neglected rather:And then when poysoned houres had bound me vpFrom mine owne knowledge, as neerely as I may,Ile play the penitent to you. But mine honesty,Shall not make poore my greatnesse, nor my powerWorke without it. Truth is, that Fuluia,To haue me out of Egypt, made Warres heere,For which my selfe, the ignorant motiue, doSo farre aske pardon, as befits mine HonourTo stoope in such a case
Lep. 'Tis Noble spoken
Mece. If it might please you, to enforce no furtherThe griefes betweene ye: to forget them quite,Were to remember: that the present neede,Speakes to attone you
Lep. Worthily spoken Mecenas
Enobar. Or if you borrow one anothers Loue for the instant, you may when you heare no more words of Pompey returne it againe: you shall haue time to wrangle in, when you haue nothing else to do
Anth. Thou art a Souldier, onely speake no more
Enob. That trueth should be silent, I had almost forgot
Anth. You wrong this presence, therefore speake no more
Enob. Go too then: your Considerate stone
Caesar. I do not much dislike the matter, butThe manner of his speech: for't cannot be,We shall remaine in friendship, our conditionsSo diffring in their acts. Yet if I knew,What Hoope should hold vs staunch from edge to edgeAth' world: I would persue it
Agri. Giue me leaue Caesar
Caesar. Speake Agrippa
Agri. Thou hast a Sister by the Mothers side, admir'dOctauia: Great Mark Anthony is now a widdower
Caesar. Say not, say Agrippa; if Cleopater heard you, yourproofe were well deserued of rashnesse
Anth. I am not marryed Caesar: let me heere Agrippafurther speake
Agri. To hold you in perpetuall amitie,To make you Brothers, and to knit your heartsWith an vn-slipping knot, take Anthony,Octauia to his wife: whose beauty claimesNo worse a husband then the best of men: whoseVertue, and whose generall graces, speakeThat which none else can vtter. By this marriage,All little Ielousies which now seeme great,And all great feares, which now import their dangers,Would then be nothing. Truth's would be tales,Where now halfe tales be truth's: her loue to both,Would each to other, and all loues to bothDraw after her. Pardon what I haue spoke,For 'tis a studied not a present thought,By duty ruminated
Anth. Will Caesar speake?Caesar. Not till he heares how Anthony is toucht,With what is spoke already
Anth. What power is in Agrippa,If I would say Agrippa, be it so,To make this good?Caesar. The power of Caesar,And his power, vnto Octauia
Anth. May I neuer(To this good purpose, that so fairely shewes)Dreame of impediment: let me haue thy handFurther this act of Grace: and from this houre,The heart of Brothers gouerne in our Loues,And sway our great Designes
Caesar. There's my hand:A Sister I bequeath you, whom no BrotherDid euer loue so deerely. Let her liueTo ioyne our kingdomes, and our hearts, and neuerFlie off our Loues againe
Lepi. Happily, Amen
Ant. I did not think to draw my Sword 'gainst Pompey,For he hath laid strange courtesies, and greatOf late vpon me. I must thanke him onely,Least my remembrance, suffer ill report:At heele of that, defie him
Lepi. Time cals vpon's,Of vs must Pompey presently be sought,Or else he seekes out vs
Anth. Where lies he?Caesar. About the Mount-Mesena
Anth. What is his strength by land?Caesar. Great, and encreasing:But by Sea he is an absolute Master
Anth. So is the Fame.Would we had spoke together. Hast we for it,Yet ere we put our selues in Armes, dispatch weThe businesse we haue talkt of
Caesar. With most gladnesse,And do inuite you to my Sisters view,Whether straight Ile lead you
Anth. Let vs Lepidus not lacke your companie
Lep. Noble Anthony, not sickenesse should detaine me.
Flourish. Exit omnes. Manet Enobarbus, Agrippa, Mecenas.
Mec. Welcome from aegypt Sir
Eno. Halfe the heart of Caesar, worthy Mecenas. My honourable Friend Agrippa
Agri. Good Enobarbus
Mece. We haue cause to be glad, that matters are sowell disgested: you staid well by't in Egypt
Enob. I Sir, we did sleepe day out of countenaunce:and made the night light with drinking
Mece. Eight Wilde-Boares rosted whole at a breakfast: and but twelue persons there. Is this true? Eno. This was but as a Flye by an Eagle: we had much more monstrous matter of Feast, which worthily deserued noting
Mecenas. She's a most triumphant Lady, if report besquare to her
Enob. When she first met Marke Anthony, she purstvp his heart vpon the Riuer of Sidnis
Agri. There she appear'd indeed: or my reporter deuis'dwell for her
Eno. I will tell you,The Barge she sat in, like a burnisht ThroneBurnt on the water: the Poope was beaten Gold,Purple the Sailes: and so perfumed thatThe Windes were Loue-sicke.With them the Owers were Siluer,Which to the tune of Flutes kept stroke, and madeThe water which they beate, to follow faster;As amorous of their strokes. For her owne person,It beggerd all discription, she did lyeIn her Pauillion, cloth of Gold, of Tissue,O're-picturing that Venus, where we seeThe fancie out-worke Nature. On each side her,Stood pretty Dimpled Boyes, like smiling Cupids,With diuers coulour'd Fannes whose winde did seeme,To gloue the delicate cheekes which they did coole,And what they vndid did
Agrip. Oh rare for Anthony
Eno. Her Gentlewoman, like the Nereides,So many Mer-maides tended her i'th' eyes,And made their bends adornings. At the Helme,A seeming Mer-maide steeres: The Silken Tackle,Swell with the touches of those Flower-soft hands,That yarely frame the office. From the BargeA strange inuisible perfume hits the senseOf the adiacent Wharfes. The Citty castHer people out vpon her: and AnthonyEnthron'd i'th' Market-place, did sit alone,Whisling to'th' ayre: which but for vacancie,Had gone to gaze on Cleopater too,And made a gap in Nature
Agri. Rare Egiptian
Eno. Vpon her landing, Anthony sent to her,Inuited her to Supper: she replyed,It should be better, he became her guest:Which she entreated, our Courteous Anthony,Whom nere the word of no woman hard speake,Being barber'd ten times o're, goes to the Feast;And for his ordinary, paies his heart,For what his eyes eate onely
Agri. Royall Wench:She made great Caesar lay his Sword to bed,He ploughed her, and she cropt
Eno. I saw her onceHop forty Paces through the publicke streete,And hauing lost her breath, she spoke, and panted,That she did make defect, perfection,And breathlesse powre breath forth
Mece. Now Anthony, must leaue her vtterly
Eno. Neuer he will not:Age cannot wither her, nor custome staleHer infinite variety: other women cloyThe appetites they feede, but she makes hungry,Where most she satisfies. For vildest thingsBecome themselues in her, that the holy PriestsBlesse her, when she is Riggish
Mece. If Beauty, Wisedome, Modesty, can settleThe heart of Anthony: Octauia isA blessed Lottery to him
Agrip. Let vs go. Good Enobarbus, make your selfemy guest, whilst you abide heere
Eno. Humbly Sir I thanke you.
Exeunt.
Enter Anthony, Caesar, Octauia betweene them.
Anth. The world, and my great office, willSometimes deuide me from your bosome
Octa. All which time, before the Gods my knee shallbowe my prayers to them for you
Anth. Goodnight Sir. My OctauiaRead not my blemishes in the worlds report:I haue not kept my square, but that to comeShall all be done byth' Rule: good night deere Lady:Good night Sir
Caesar. Goodnight.Enter.
Enter Soothsaier.
Anth. Now sirrah: you do wish your selfe in Egypt?Sooth. Would I had neuer come from thence, nor youthither
Ant. If you can, your reason?Sooth. I see it in my motion: haue it not in my tongue,But yet hie you to Egypt againe
Antho. Say to me, whose Fortunes shall rise higherCaesars or mine?Sooth. Caesars. Therefore (oh Anthony) stay not by his sideThy Daemon that thy spirit which keepes thee, isNoble, Couragious, high vnmatchable,Where Caesars is not. But neere him, thy AngellBecomes a feare: as being o're-powr'd, thereforeMake space enough betweene you
Anth. Speake this no more
Sooth. To none but thee no more but: when to thee,If thou dost play with him at any game,Thou art sure to loose: And of that Naturall lucke,He beats thee 'gainst the oddes. Thy Luster thickens,When he shines by: I say againe, thy spiritIs all affraid to gouerne thee neere him:But he alway 'tis Noble
Anth. Get thee gone:Say to Ventigius I would speake with him.Enter.
He shall to Parthia, be it Art or hap,He hath spoken true. The very Dice obey him,And in our sports my better cunning faints,Vnder his chance, if we draw lots he speeds,His Cocks do winne the Battaile, still of mine,When it is all to naught: and his Quailes euerBeate mine (in hoopt) at odd's. I will to Egypte:And though I make this marriage for my peace,I'th' East my pleasure lies. Oh come Ventigius.
Enter Ventigius.
You must to Parthia, your Commissions ready:Follow me, and reciue't.
Exeunt.
Enter Lepidus, Mecenas and Agrippa.
Lepidus. Trouble your selues no further: pray youhasten your Generals after
Agr. Sir, Marke Anthony, will e'ne but kisse Octauia,and weele follow
Lepi. Till I shall see you in your Souldiers dresse,Which will become you both: Farewell
Mece. We shall: as I conceiue the iourney, be atMount before you Lepidus
Lepi. Your way is shorter, my purposes do draw memuch about, you'le win two dayes vpon me
Both. Sir good successe
Lepi. Farewell.
Exeunt.
Enter Cleopater, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.
Cleo. Giue me some Musicke: Musicke, moody foodeof vs that trade in Loue
Omnes. The Musicke, hoa.Enter Mardian the Eunuch.
Cleo. Let it alone, let's to Billiards: come Charmian
Char. My arme is sore, best play with Mardian
Cleopa. As well a woman with an Eunuch plaide, aswith a woman. Come you'le play with me Sir?Mardi. As well as I can Madam
Cleo. And when good will is shewed,Though't come to shortThe Actor may pleade pardon. Ile none now,Giue me mine Angle, weele to'th' Riuer thereMy Musicke playing farre off. I will betrayTawny fine fishes, my bended hooke shall pierceTheir slimy iawes: and as I draw them vp,Ile thinke them euery one an Anthony,And say, ah ha; y'are caught
Char. 'Twas merry when you wager'd on your Angling, when your diuer did hang a salt fish on his hooke which he with feruencie drew vp
Cleo. That time? Oh times:I laught him out of patience: and that nightI laught him into patience, and next morne,Ere the ninth houre, I drunke him to his bed:Then put my Tires and Mantles on him, whilstI wore his Sword Phillippan. Oh from Italie,Enter a Messenger.
Ramme thou thy fruitefull tidings in mine eares,That long time haue bin barren
Mes. Madam, Madam
Cleo. Anthonyo's dead.If thou say so Villaine, thou kil'st thy Mistris:But well and free, if thou so yeild him.There is Gold, and heereMy blewest vaines to kisse: a hand that KingsHaue lipt, and trembled kissing
Mes. First Madam, he is well
Cleo. Why there's more Gold.But sirrah marke, we vseTo say, the dead are well: bring it to that,The Gold I giue thee, will I melt and powrDowne thy ill vttering throate
Mes. Good Madam heare me
Cleo. Well, go too I will:But there's no goodnesse in thy face if AnthonyBe free and healthfull; so tart a fauourTo trumpet such good tidings. If not well,Thou shouldst come like a Furie crown'd with Snakes,Not like a formall man
Mes. Wilt please you heare me?Cleo. I haue a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st:Yet if thou say Anthony liues, 'tis well,Or friends with Caesar, or not Captiue to him,Ile set thee in a shower of Gold, and haileRich Pearles vpon thee
Mes. Madam, he's well
Cleo. Well said
Mes. And Friends with Caesar
Cleo. Th'art an honest man
Mes. Caesar, and he, are greater Friends then euer
Cleo. Make thee a Fortune from me
Mes. But yet Madam
Cleo. I do not like but yet, it does alayThe good precedence, fie vpon but yet,But yet is as a Iaylor to bring foorthSome monstrous Malefactor. Prythee Friend,Powre out the packe of matter to mine eare,The good and bad together: he's friends with Caesar,In state of health thou saist, and thou saist, free
Mes. Free Madam, no: I made no such report,He's bound vnto Octauia
Cleo. For what good turne?Mes. For the best turne i'th' bed
Cleo. I am pale Charmian
Mes. Madam, he's married to Octauia
Cleo. The most infectious Pestilence vpon thee.
Strikes him downe.
Mes. Good Madam patience
Cleo. What say you?
Strikes him.
Hence horrible Villaine, or Ile spurne thine eyesLike balls before me: Ile vnhaire thy head,
She hales him vp and downe.
Thou shalt be whipt with Wyer, and stew'd in brine,Smarting in lingring pickle
Mes. Gratious Madam,I that do bring the newes, made not the match
Cleo. Say 'tis not so, a Prouince I will giue thee,And make thy Fortunes proud: the blow thou had'stShall make thy peace, for mouing me to rage,And I will boot thee with what guift besideThy modestie can begge
Mes. He's married Madam
Cleo. Rogue, thou hast liu'd too long.
Draw a knife.
Mes. Nay then Ile runne:What meane you Madam, I haue made no fault.Enter.
Char. Good Madam keepe your selfe within your selfe,The man is innocent
Cleo. Some Innocents scape not the thunderbolt:Melt Egypt into Nyle: and kindly creaturesTurne all to Serpents. Call the slaue againe,Though I am mad, I will not byte him: Call?Char. He is afeard to come
Cleo. I will not hurt him,These hands do lacke Nobility, that they strikeA meaner then my selfe: since I my selfeHaue giuen my selfe the cause. Come hither Sir.Enter the Messenger againe.
Though it be honest, it is neuer goodTo bring bad newes: giue to a gratious MessageAn host of tongues, but let ill tydings tellThemselues, when they be felt
Mes. I haue done my duty
Cleo. Is he married?I cannot hate thee worser then I do,If thou againe say yes
Mes. He's married Madam
Cleo. The Gods confound thee,Dost thou hold there still?Mes. Should I lye Madame?Cleo. Oh, I would thou didst:So halfe my Egypt were submerg'd and madeA Cesterne for scal'd Snakes. Go get thee hence,Had'st thou Narcissus in thy face to me,Thou would'st appeere most vgly: He is married?Mes. I craue your Highnesse pardon
Cleo. He is married?Mes. Take no offence, that I would not offend you,To punnish me for what you make me doSeemes much vnequall, he's married to Octauia
Cleo. Oh that his fault should make a knaue of thee,That art not what th'art sure of. Get thee hence,The Marchandize which thou hast brought from RomeAre all too deere for me:Lye they vpon thy hand, and be vndone by em
Char. Good your Highnesse patience
Cleo. In praysing Anthony, I haue disprais'd Caesar
Char. Many times Madam
Cleo. I am paid for't now: lead me from hence,I faint, oh Iras, Charmian: 'tis no matter.Go to the Fellow, good Alexas bid himReport the feature of Octauia: her yeares,Her inclination, let him not leaue outThe colour of her haire. Bring me word quickly,Let him for euer go, let him not Charmian,Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon,The other wayes a Mars. Bid you AlexasBring me word, how tall she is: pitty me Charmian,But do not speake to me. Lead me to my Chamber.
Exeunt.
Flourish. Enter Pompey, at one doore with Drum and Trumpet: atanotherCaesar, Lepidus, Anthony, Enobarbus, Mecenas, Agrippa, Menaswith SouldiersMarching.
Pom. Your Hostages I haue, so haue you mine:And we shall talke before we fight
Caesar. Most meete that first we come to words,And therefore haue weOur written purposes before vs sent,Which if thou hast considered, let vs know,If 'twill tye vp thy discontented Sword,And carry backe to Cicelie much tall youth,That else must perish heere