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Their slimy jaws; and as I draw them up |
I'll think them every one an Antony, |
And say 'Ah ha! Y'are 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 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- 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. 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? Hence, [Strikes him] |
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 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 afear'd to come. |
CLEOPATRA. I will not hurt him. |
These hands do lack nobility, that they strike |
A meaner than myself; since I myself |
Have given myself the cause. |
Enter the MESSENGER again |
Come hither, sir. |
Though it be honest, it is never good |
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