Act IIScene V
Alexandria. A Room in the Palace
Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, Alexas.
Cleopatra
Give me some music—music, moody foodOf us that trade in love.
All
The music, ho!
Enter Mardian, the eunuch.
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 playedAs with a woman. Come, you’ll play with me, sir?
Mardian
As well as I can, madam.
Cleopatra
And when good will is showed, 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 betrayTawny-finned fishes. My bended hook shall pierceTheir slimy jaws, and as I draw them upI’ll think them every one an Antony,And say “Ah, ha! You’re caught.”
Charmian
’Twas merry whenYou wagered on your angling; when your diverDid hang a salt fish on his hook, which heWith fervency drew up.
Cleopatra
That time?—O times!—I laughed him out of patience; and that nightI laughed him into patience, and next morn,Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed,Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilstI wore his sword Philippan.
Enter Messenger.
O! from Italy!Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears,That long time have been barren.
Messenger
Madam, madam—
Cleopatra
Antony’s dead! If thou say so, villain,Thou kill’st thy mistress. But well and free,If thou so yield him, there is gold, and hereMy bluest veins to kiss, a hand that kingsHave lipped, and trembled kissing.
Messenger
First, madam, he’s well.
Cleopatra
Why, there’s more gold.But sirrah, mark, we useTo say the dead are well. Bring it to that,The gold I give thee will I melt and pourDown thy ill-uttering throat.
Messenger
Good madam, hear me.
Cleopatra
Well, go to, I will.But there’s no goodness in thy face if AntonyBe free and healthful. So tart a favourTo trumpet such good tidings! If not well,Thou shouldst come like a Fury crowned 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 hailRich pearls upon thee.
Messenger
Madam, he’s well.
Cleopatra
Well said.
Messenger
And friends with Caesar.
Cleopatra
Th’ art 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 allayThe good precedence. Fie upon “But yet”!“But yet” is as a gaoler to bring forthSome 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’ th’ 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?
Strikes him again.
Hence, horrible villain, or I’ll spurn thine eyesLike balls before me! I’ll unhair thy head!
She hales him up and down.
Thou shalt be whipped with wire and stewed in brine,Smarting in ling’ring 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 hadstShall make thy peace for moving me to rage,And I will boot thee with what gift besideThy 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 creaturesTurn 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 strikeA meaner than myself, since I myselfHave given myself the cause.
Enter the Messenger again with Charmian.
Come hither, sir.Though it be honest, it is never goodTo bring bad news. Give to a gracious messageAn host of tongues, but let ill tidings tellThemselves when they be felt.
Messenger
I have done my duty.
Cleopatra
Is he married?I cannot hate thee worser than I doIf 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 madeA cistern for scaled snakes! Go, get thee hence.Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to meThou 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 doSeems much unequal. He’s married to Octavia.
Cleopatra
O, that his fault should make a knave of theeThat art not what thou’rt sure of! Get thee hence!The merchandise which thou hast brought from RomeAre 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 himReport the feature of Octavia, her years,Her inclination; let him not leave outThe 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.
To Mardian
Bid you AlexasBring me word how tall she is. Pity me, Charmian,But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber.
Exeunt.