amusement with Antony and Cleopatra to ramble through the streets at night, and bandy ribald jests with the populace of Alexandria. From the same authority, we know that they were accustomed to live on the most familiar terms with their attendants and the companions of their revels. To these traits we must add, that with all her violence, perverseness, egotism, and caprice, Cleopatra mingled a capability for warm affections and kindly feeling, or rather what we should call in these days, a constitutional good-nature; and was lavishly generous to her favourites and dependants. These characteristics we find scattered through the play: they are not only faithfully rendered by Shakspeare, but he has made the finest use of them in his delineation of manners. Hence the occasional freedom of her women and her attendants, in the midst of their fears. and flatteries, becomes most natural and consistent: hence, too, their devoted attachment and fidelity, proved even in death. But as illustrative of Cleopatra's disposition, perhaps the finest and most characteristic scene in the whole play, is that in which the messenger arrives from Rome with the tidings of Antony's marriage with Octavia. She perceives at once with quickness that all is not well, and she hastens to anticipate the worst, that she may have the pleasure of being disappointed. Her impatience to know what she fears to learn, the vivacity with which she gradually works herself up into a state of excitement, and at length into fury, is wrought out with a force of truth which makes us recoil. 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 Good madam, hear me. MESSENGER. 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 should'st come like a fury crown'd with snakes. 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 Cæsar, 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 Cæsar. CLEOPATRA. Thou art an honest man. MESSENGER. Cæsar 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 thy pack of matter to mine ear, The good and bad together. He's friends with Cæsar; 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. Madam, he's married to Octavia. CLEOPATRA. The most infectious pestilence upon thee! [Strikes him down. MESSENGER. Good madam, patience. What say you? CLEOPATRA. [Strikes him again. Hence, horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes Like balls before me--I'll unhair thine head Thou shalt be whipp'd 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 hadst And I will boot thee with what gift beside Thy modesty can beg. What mean you, madam? I have made no fault. CHARMIAN. Good madam, keep yourself within yourself; The man is innocent. [Exit. |