Mes. Wilt please you hear me? Cleo. I have a mind to strike thee e'er thou speak'st; Yet if thou say, Antony lives, 'tis well, I'll fee thee in a showre of Gold, and hail Rich Pearls upon thee. Mes. Madam, he's well. Cleo. Well faid. Mes. And Friends with Cafar. Mes. Cafar, and he, are greater Friends than ever. Mes. But yet, Madam Cleo. I do not like but yet, it do's allay Cleo. For what good turn? Mes. For the best turn i'th' Bed. Cleo. I am pale, Charmian. Mes. Madam, he's married to Octavia. Cleo. The most infectious Pestilence upon thee. Mef. Good Madam, patience. Cleo. What say you? Hence horrible Villain, or I'll spurn thine Eyes [She hales him up and down. [Strikes him down. [Strikes him. Like Balls before me; I'll unhair thy Head: Thou shalt be whipt with Wyre, and stew'd in Brine, Smarting in lingring pickle. Mes. 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, And I will boot thee with what gift beside Thy Thy modesty can beg. Mes. He's married, Madam. Cleo. Rogue, thou hast liv'd too long. [Draws & Dagger. Mef. Nay then I'll run: What mean you, Madam, I have made no fault. [Exit. Char. Good Madam, keep your self within your self, The Man is innocent. Cleo. Some Innocents scape not the Thunderbolt : Melt Ægypt into Nile; and kindled creatures These Hands do lack Nobility, that they ftrike Have given my self the caufe. Come hither, Sir. Re-Enter the Messenger. Though it be honeft, it is never good Themselves, when they be felt. Mes. I have done my duty. Cleo. Is he married? I cannot hate thee worser than I do, If thou again say yes. Mes. He's married, Madam. Cleo. The gods confound thee, dost thou hold there still? Mef. Should I lie, Madam? Cleo. Oh, would thou didst: So half my Ægypt were submerg'd, and made Thou wouldst appear most ugly: He is married? Cleo. He is married? Mes. 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 should make a Knave of thee, That art not what thou art fure of. Get thee hence, The Merchandises which thou hast brought from Rome, Are all too dear for me : Lye they upon thy hand, and be undone by 'em. [Exit Mes. Char. Good your Highness patience. Cleo. In praising Antony, I have disprais'd Cafar. Cleo. I am paid for't now: lead me from hence, SCENE IV. The Coast of Italy, near Misenum. Enter Pompey and Menas at one Door with Drum and Trumpet: At another Cæfar, Lepidus, Antony, Enobarbus, Mecenas, Agrippa, with Soldiers marching. Pom. Your Hostages I have, so have you mine; And we shall talk before we fight. Cas. Most meet That first we come to words, and therefore have we Pom. To you all three, With the arm'd rest, Courtiers of beauteous freedom, Hath made me rig my Navy. At whose burthen, Cef. Take your time, Ant. Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy Sails, 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 fince the Cuckoo builds not for himself, Remain in't as thou may'st. Lep. Be pleas'd to tell us, For this is from the present now you talk, The offers we have fent 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 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, Our Targets undinted. Omnes. That's our offer. Pom. Know then I came before you here, a Man 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, Where now half tales be truths: her love to both Ant. Will Cafar speak? Caf. Not 'till he hears how Antony is touch'd, With what is spoken already. Ant. What power is in Agrippa, If I would say Agrippa, be it fo, To make this good? Caf. The power of Cafar, To this good purpose, that so fairly shews, Caf. There's my hand: A Sifter I bequeath you, whom no Brother To join our Kingdoms, and our Hearts, and never Fly off our Loves again. Lep. Happily, Amen. Ant. I did not think to draw my Sword against Pompey, For he hath laid strange Courtefies, and great Of late upon me. I must thank him only, Left my remembrance fuffer ill report: At heel of that defie him. Lep. Time calls upon's, Of us must Pompey presently be fought, Or else he seeks out us. Ant. Where lyes he? Caf. About the Mount-Misenum. Would we had spoke together. Haste we for it, The |