Act II, Scene v:
Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

[Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and Attendants.]

CLEOPATRA:

Give me some music,—music, moody food

Of us that trade in love.

ALL:

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 laughed 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:

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 here

My bluest veins to kiss,—a hand that kings

Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing.

MESSENGER:

First, madam, he's 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,—why 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:

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 allay

The good precedence; fie upon 'but yet'!

'But yet' is as a gaoler to bring forth

Some monstrous malefactor. Pr'ythee, 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 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 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 liv'd too long.

[Draws a dagger.]

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 afear'd 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 submerg'd, and made

A cistern for scal'd 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 tho'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 disprais'd 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,

T'other way he's a Mars.—[To MARDIAN]Bid you Alexas

Bring me word how tall she is.—Pity me, Charmian,

But do not speak to me.—Lead me to my chamber.

[Exeunt.]