| [Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS] | |
| CLEOPATRA | Give me some music; music, moody food Of us that trade in love. |
| Attendants | The music, ho! |
| [Enter MARDIAN] | |
| CLEOPATRA | Let it alone; let's to billiards: come, Charmian. |
| CHARMIAN | My arm is sore; best play with Mardian. |
| CLEOPATRA | As well a woman with an eunuch play'd As with a woman. Come, you'll play with me, sir? |
| MARDIAN | As well as I can, madam. |
| CLEOPATRA | And when good will is show'd, though't come too short, The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now: Give me mine angle; we'll to the river: there, My music playing far off, I will betray Tawny-finn'd fishes; my bended hook shall pierce Their slimy jaws; and, as I draw them up, I'll think them every one an Antony, And say 'Ah, ha! you're caught.' |
| CHARMIAN | 'Twas merry when You wager'd on your angling; when your diver Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he With fervency drew up. |
| CLEOPATRA | That time,--O times!-- I laugh'd him out of patience; and that night I laugh'd him into patience; and next morn, Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed; Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst I wore his sword Philippan. |
| [Enter a Messenger] | |
| O, from Italy Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears, That long time have been barren. |
|
| Messenger | Madam, madam,-- |
| CLEOPATRA | Antonius dead!--If thou say so, villain, Thou kill'st thy mistress: but well and free, If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here My bluest veins to kiss; a hand that kings Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing. |
| Messenger | First, madam, he is well. |
| CLEOPATRA | Why, there's more gold. But, sirrah, mark, we use To say the dead are well: bring it to that, The gold I give thee will I melt and pour Down thy ill-uttering throat. |
| Messenger | Good madam, hear me. |
| CLEOPATRA | Well, go to, I will; But there's no goodness in thy face: if Antony Be free and healthful,--so tart a favour To trumpet such good tidings! If not well, Thou shouldst come like a Fury crown'd with snakes, Not like a formal man. |
| Messenger | Will't please you hear me? |
| CLEOPATRA | I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st: Yet if thou say Antony lives, is well, Or friends with Caesar, or not captive to him, I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail Rich pearls upon thee. |
| Messenger | Madam, he's well. |
| CLEOPATRA | Well said. |
| Messenger | And friends with Caesar. |
| CLEOPATRA | Thou'rt an honest man. |
| Messenger | Caesar and he are greater friends than ever. |
| CLEOPATRA | Make thee a fortune from me. |
| Messenger | But yet, madam,-- |
| CLEOPATRA | I do not like 'But yet,' it does allay The good precedence; fie upon 'But yet'! 'But yet' is as a gaoler to bring forth Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend, Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear, The good and bad together: he's friends with Caesar: In state of health thou say'st; and thou say'st free. |
| Messenger | Free, madam! no; I made no such report: He's bound unto Octavia. |
| CLEOPATRA | For what good turn? |
| Messenger | For the best turn i' the bed. |
| CLEOPATRA | I am pale, Charmian. |
| Messenger | Madam, he's married to Octavia. |
| CLEOPATRA | The most infectious pestilence upon thee! |
| [Strikes him down] | |
| Messenger | Good madam, patience. |
| CLEOPATRA | What say you? Hence, |
| [Strikes him again] | |
| Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head: |
|
| [She hales him up and down] | |
| Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine, Smarting in lingering pickle. |
|
| Messenger | Gracious madam, I that do bring the news made not the match. |
| CLEOPATRA | Say 'tis not so, a province I will give thee, And make thy fortunes proud: the blow thou hadst Shall make thy peace for moving me to rage; And I will boot thee with what gift beside Thy modesty can beg. |
| Messenger | He's married, madam. |
| CLEOPATRA | Rogue, thou hast lived too long. |
| [Draws a knife] | |
| Messenger | Nay, then I'll run. What mean you, madam? I have made no fault. |
| [Exit] | |
| CHARMIAN | Good madam, keep yourself within yourself: The man is innocent. |
| CLEOPATRA | Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt. Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly creatures Turn all to serpents! Call the slave again: Though I am mad, I will not bite him: call. |
| CHARMIAN | He is afeard to come. |
| CLEOPATRA | I will not hurt him. |
| [Exit CHARMIAN] | |
| These hands do lack nobility, that they strike A meaner than myself; since I myself Have given myself the cause. |
|
| [Re-enter CHARMIAN and Messenger] | |
| Come hither, sir. Though it be honest, it is never good To bring bad news: give to a gracious message. An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell Themselves when they be felt. |
|
| Messenger | I have done my duty. |
| CLEOPATRA | Is he married? I cannot hate thee worser than I do, If thou again say 'Yes.' |
| Messenger | He's married, madam. |
| CLEOPATRA | The gods confound thee! dost thou hold there still? |
| Messenger | Should I lie, madam? |
| CLEOPATRA | O, I would thou didst, So half my Egypt were submerged and made A cistern for scaled snakes! Go, get thee hence: Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me Thou wouldst appear most ugly. He is married? |
| Messenger | I crave your highness' pardon. |
| CLEOPATRA | He is married? |
| Messenger | Take no offence that I would not offend you: To punish me for what you make me do. Seems much unequal: he's married to Octavia. |
| CLEOPATRA | O, that his fault should make a knave of thee, That art not what thou'rt sure of! Get thee hence: The merchandise which thou hast brought from Rome Are all too dear for me: lie they upon thy hand, And be undone by 'em! |
| [Exit Messenger] | |
| CHARMIAN | Good your highness, patience. |
| CLEOPATRA | In praising Antony, I have dispraised Caesar. |
| CHARMIAN | Many times, madam. |
| CLEOPATRA | I am paid for't now. Lead me from hence: I faint: O Iras, Charmian! 'tis no matter. Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him Report the feature of Octavia, her years, Her inclination, let him not leave out The colour of her hair: bring me word quickly. |
| [Exit ALEXAS] | |
| Let him for ever go:--let him not--Charmian, Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon, The other way's a Mars. Bid you Alexas |
|
| [To MARDIAN] | |
| Bring me word how tall she is. Pity me, Charmian, But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber. |
|
| [Exeunt] |