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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 once Hop 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 stale Her infinite variety: other women cloy The appet.i.tes they feede, but she makes hungry, Where most she satisfies. For vildest things Become themselues in her, that the holy Priests Blesse her, when she is Riggish
Mece. If Beauty, Wisedome, Modesty, can settle The heart of Anthony: Octauia is A blessed Lottery to him
Agrip. Let vs go. Good En.o.barbus, make your selfe my 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, will Sometimes deuide me from your bosome
Octa. All which time, before the G.o.ds my knee shall bowe my prayers to them for you
Anth. Goodnight Sir. My Octauia Read not my blemishes in the worlds report: I haue not kept my square, but that to come Shall 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 you thither
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 higher Caesars or mine?
Sooth. Caesars. Therefore (oh Anthony) stay not by his side Thy Daemon that thy spirit which keepes thee, is n.o.ble, Couragious, high vnmatchable, Where Caesars is not. But neere him, thy Angell Becomes a feare: as being o're-powr'd, therefore Make s.p.a.ce 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 l.u.s.ter thickens, When he s.h.i.+nes by: I say againe, thy spirit Is all affraid to gouerne thee neere him: But he alway 'tis n.o.ble
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 c.o.c.ks do winne the Battaile, still of mine, When it is all to naught: and his Quailes euer Beate 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 you hasten 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 at Mount before you Lepidus
Lepi. Your way is shorter, my purposes do draw me much 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 foode of 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, as with 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 short The Actor may pleade pardon. Ile none now, Giue me mine Angle, weele to'th' Riuer there My Musicke playing farre off. I will betray Tawny fine fishes, my bended hooke shall pierce Their 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 night I 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, whilst I 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.