William Shakespeare: Antony and Cleopatra, Act II, Scene VI
Flourish. Enter Pompey and Menas at one door, with drum and trumpet: at another, Octavius Caesar, Mark Antony, Lepidus, Domitius Enobarbus, Mecaenas, with Soldiers marching
That first we come to words; and therefore have we
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.
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 Caesar,
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 and beauteous freedom,
To drench the Capitol; but that they would
Have one man but a man? And that is it
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.
We'll speak with thee at sea: at land, thou know'st
How much we do o'er-count thee.
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.
For this is from the present—how you take
The offers we have sent you.
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.
I came before you here a man prepared
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 Caesar and your brother were at blows,
Your mother came to Sicily and did find
Her welcome friendly.
That call'd me timelier than my purpose hither;
For I have gain'd by 't.
What counts harsh fortune casts upon my face;
But in my bosom shall she never come,
To make my heart her vassal.
I crave our composition may be written,
And seal'd between us.
Or last, your fine Egyptian cookery
Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius Caesar
Grew fat with feasting there.
I never hated thee: I have seen thee fight,
When I have envied thy behavior.
I never loved you much; but I ha' praised ye,
When you have well deserved ten times as much
As I have said you did.
It nothing ill becomes thee.
Aboard my galley I invite you all:
Will you lead, lords?
Exeunt all but Menas and Enobarbus
I will praise any man that will praise me; though it cannot be denied what I have done by land.
Yes, something you can deny for your own safety: you have been a great thief by sea.
There I deny my land service. But give me your hand, Menas: if our eyes had authority, here they might take two thieves kissing.
Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune.
I think so too. But you shall find, the band that seems to tie their friendship together will be the very strangler of their amity: Octavia is of a holy, cold, and still conversation.
Not he that himself is not so; which is Mark Antony. He will to his Egyptian dish again: then shall the sighs of Octavia blow the fire up in Caesar; and, as I said before, that which is the strength of their amity shall prove the immediate author of their variance. Antony will use his affection where it is: he married but his occasion here.
Exeunt
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