| 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] |
