Act IIIScene VI
Rome. A Room in Caesar’s House
Enter Agrippa, Maecenas and Caesar.
Caesar
Contemning Rome, he has done all this, and moreIn Alexandria. Here’s the manner of ’t:I’ th’ market-place, on a tribunal silvered,Cleopatra and himself in chairs of goldWere publicly enthroned. At the feet satCaesarion, whom they call my father’s son,And all the unlawful issue that their lustSince then hath made between them. Unto herHe gave the stablishment of Egypt; made herOf lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia,Absolute queen.
Maecenas
This in the public eye?
Caesar
I’ th’ common showplace where they exercise.His sons he there proclaimed the kings of kings:Great Media, Parthia, and ArmeniaHe gave to Alexander; to Ptolemy he assignedSyria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia. SheIn th’ habiliments of the goddess IsisThat day appeared, and oft before gave audience,As ’tis reported, so.
Maecenas
Let Rome be thus informed.
Agrippa
Who, queasy with his insolence already,Will their good thoughts call from him.
Caesar
The people knows it and have now receivedHis accusations.
Agrippa
Who does he accuse?
Caesar
Caesar, and that, having in SicilySextus Pompeius spoiled, we had not rated himHis part o’ th’ isle. Then does he say he lent meSome shipping, unrestored. Lastly, he fretsThat Lepidus of the triumvirateShould be deposed and, being, that we detainAll his revenue.
Agrippa
Sir, this should be answered.
Caesar
’Tis done already, and messenger gone.I have told him Lepidus was grown too cruel,That he his high authority abused,And did deserve his change. For what I have conqueredI grant him part; but then in his ArmeniaAnd other of his conquered kingdoms, IDemand the like.
Maecenas
He’ll never yield to that.
Caesar
Nor must not then be yielded to in this.
Enter Octavia with her train.
Octavia
Hail, Caesar, and my lord! Hail, most dear Caesar!
Caesar
That ever I should call thee castaway!
Octavia
You have not called me so, nor have you cause.
Caesar
Why have you stolen upon us thus? You come notLike Caesar’s sister. The wife of AntonyShould have an army for an usher, andThe neighs of horse to tell of her approachLong ere she did appear. The trees by th’ wayShould have borne men, and expectation fainted,Longing for what it had not. Nay, the dustShould have ascended to the roof of heaven,Raised by your populous troops. But you are comeA market-maid to Rome, and have preventedThe ostentation of our love, which, left unshown,Is often left unloved. We should have met youBy sea and land, supplying every stageWith an augmented greeting.
Octavia
Good my lord,To come thus was I not constrained, but did itOn my free will. My lord, Mark Antony,Hearing that you prepared for war, acquaintedMy grieved ear withal, whereon I beggedHis pardon for return.
Caesar
Which soon he granted,Being an abstract ’tween his lust and him.
Octavia
Do not say so, my lord.
Caesar
I have eyes upon him,And his affairs come to me on the wind.Where is he now?
Octavia
My lord, in Athens.
Caesar
No, my most wronged sister. CleopatraHath nodded him to her. He hath given his empireUp to a whore, who now are levyingThe kings o’ th’ earth for war. He hath assembledBocchus, the king of Libya; ArchelausOf Cappadocia; Philadelphos, kingOf Paphlagonia; the Thracian king, Adallas;King Manchus of Arabia; King of Pont;Herod of Jewry; Mithridates, kingOf Comagene; Polemon and Amyntas,The kings of Mede and Lycaonia,With a more larger list of sceptres.
Octavia
Ay me, most wretched,That have my heart parted betwixt two friendsThat does afflict each other!
Caesar
Welcome hither.Your letters did withhold our breaking forthTill we perceived both how you were wrong ledAnd we in negligent danger. Cheer your heart.Be you not troubled with the time, which drivesO’er your content these strong necessities,But let determined things to destinyHold unbewailed their way. Welcome to Rome,Nothing more dear to me. You are abusedBeyond the mark of thought, and the high gods,To do you justice, make their ministersOf us and those that love you. Best of comfort,And ever welcome to us.
Agrippa
Welcome, lady.
Maecenas
Welcome, dear madam.Each heart in Rome does love and pity you.Only th’ adulterous Antony, most largeIn his abominations, turns you offAnd gives his potent regiment to a trullThat noises it against us.
Octavia
Is it so, sir?
Caesar
Most certain. Sister, welcome. Pray youBe ever known to patience. My dear’st sister!
Exeunt.