Part 17

2 As they pinch one another by the disposition, hee cries out, no more; reconciles them to his entreatie, and himselfe to'th' drinke

1 But it raises the greater warre betweene him & his discretion

2 Why this it is to haue a name in great mens Fellowship: I had as liue haue a Reede that will doe me no seruice, as a Partizan I could not heaue

1 To be call'd into a huge Sphere, and not to be seene to moue in't, are the holes where eyes should bee, which pittifully disaster the cheekes.

A Sennet sounded. Enter Caesar, Anthony, Pompey, Lepidus, Agrippa, Mecenas, Enobarbus, Menes, with other Captaines.

Ant. Thus do they Sir: they take the flow o'th' Nyle By certaine scales i'th' Pyramid: they know By'th' height, the lownesse, or the meane: If dearth Or Foizon follow. The higher Nilus swels, The more it promises: as it ebbes, the Seedsman Vpon the slime and Ooze scatters his graine, And shortly comes to Haruest

Lep. Y'haue strange Serpents there? Anth. I Lepidus

Lep. Your Serpent of Egypt, is bred now of your mud by the operation of your Sun: so is your Crocodile

Ant. They are so

Pom. Sit, and some Wine: A health to Lepidus

Lep. I am not so well as I should be: But Ile ne're out

Enob. Not till you haue slept: I feare me you'l bee in till then

Lep. Nay certainly, I haue heard the Ptolomies Pyramisis are very goodly things: without contradiction I haue heard that

Menas. Pompey, a word

Pomp. Say in mine eare, what is't

Men. Forsake thy seate I do beseech thee Captaine, And heare me speake a word

Pom. Forbeare me till anon.

Whispers in's Eare.

This Wine for Lepidus

Lep. What manner o' thing is your Crocodile? Ant. It is shap'd sir like it selfe, and it is as broad as it hath bredth; It is iust so high as it is, and mooues with it owne organs. It liues by that which nourisheth it, and the Elements once out of it, it Transmigrates

Lep. What colour is it of? Ant. Of it owne colour too

Lep. 'Tis a strange Serpent

Ant. 'Tis so, and the teares of it are wet

Caes Will this description satisfie him? Ant. With the Health that Pompey giues him, else he is a very Epicure

Pomp. Go hang sir, hang: tell me of that? Away: Do as I bid you. Where's this Cup I call'd for? Men. If for the sake of Merit thou wilt heare mee, Rise from thy stoole

Pom. I thinke th'art mad: the matter? Men. I haue euer held my cap off to thy Fortunes

Pom. Thou hast seru'd me with much faith: what's else to say? Be iolly Lords

Anth. These Quicke-sands Lepidus, Keepe off, them for you sinke