Cæs. You have broken The article of your oath; which you shall never Have tongue to charge me with. Lep. Ant. Lepidus, let him speak; Soft, Cæsar. The honour's sacred which he talks on now, Supposing that I lack'd it: But on, Cæsar; The article of my oath, No, Cas. To lend me arms, and aid, when I requir'd them; The which you both deny'd. Neglected, rather; And then, when poison'd hours had bound me up To have me out of Egypt, made wars here; To stoop in such a case. Lep. 'Tis nobly spoken. Mec. If it might please you, to enforce no further The griefs between ye: to forget them quite, Were to remember that the present need Speaks to atone you. Lep. Worthily spoke, Mecænas. Eno. Or, if you borrow one another's love for the instant, you may, when you hear no more words of Pompey, return it again: you shall have time to wrangle in, when you have nothing else to do. Ant. Thou art a soldier only; speak no more. Eno. That truth should be silent, I had almost forgot. Ant. You wrong this presence, therefore speak no more. Eno. Go to then; your considerate stone. The manner of his speech: for it cannot be, What hoop should hold us staunch, from edge to edge O' the world I would pursue it. Agr. Cæs. Speak, Agrippa. Give me leave, Cæsar, Agr. Thou hast a sister by the mother's side, Admir'd Octavia: great Mark Antony Is now a widower. Cæs. Say not so, Agrippa; If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof Were well deserv'd of rashness. Ant. I am not married, Cæsar: let me hear Agrippa further speak. Agr. To hold you in perpetual amity, To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts With an unslipping knot, take Antony Octavia to his wife: whose beauty claims No worse a husband than the best of men; Whose virtue, and whose general graces, speak That which none else can utter. By this marriage, All little jealousies, which now seem great, And all great fears, which now import their dangers, Would then be nothing: truths would be but tales, Where now half tales be truths: her love to both, Would, each to other, and all loves to both, Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke; By duty ruminated. Will Cæsar speak? Ces. Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd With what is spoke already. To this good purpose, that so fairly shows, Dream of impediment!-Let me have thy hand: Further this act of grace; and, from this hour, The heart of brothers govern in our loves, And sway our great designs! Cæs. There is my hand. A sister I bequeath you, whom no brother Did ever love so dearly: Let her live 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 'gainst Pompey; For he hath laid strange courtesies, and great, Lest my remembrance suffer ill report; 4 Lep. Time calls upon us: Of us must Pompey presently be sought, Or else he seeks out us. Ant. And where lies he? Cæs. About the Mount Misenum. 'Would, we had spoke together! Haste we for it: Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, despatch we The business we have talk'd of. Cæs. With most gladness; And do invite you to my sister's view, Whither straight I will lead you. Ant. Not lack your company. Let us, Lepidus, Noble Antony, Not sickness should detain me. [Flourish. Exeunt Cæsar, Antony, and Lepidus. Mec. Welcome from Egypt, sir. Eno. Half the heart of Cæsar, worthy Mecænas! -my honourable friend, Agrippa!Agr. Good Enobarbus! Mec. We have cause to be glad, that matters are so well digested. You stay'd well by it in Egypt. Eno. Ay, sir; we did sleep day out of countenance, and made the night light with drinking. Mec. Eight wild boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and but twelve persons there; Is this true? Eno, This was but as a fly by an eagle: we had D much more monstrous matter of feast, which worthily deserved noting. Mec. She's a most triumphant lady, if report be square to her. Eno. When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up his heart, upon the river of Cydnus. Agr. There she appear'd indeed; or my reporter devis'd well for her. Eno. I will tell you: The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold; Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that The winds were love-sick with them: the oars were Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, • Agr. O, rare for Antony! Eno. Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, And made their bends adornings: at the helm A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the barge.... |