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. Enter the Messenger again with Charmian. 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. [_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._] SCENE VI. Near Misenum. Flourish. Enter Pompey and Menas at one door, with drum and trumpet; at another, Caesar, Lepidus, Antony, Enobarbus, Maecenas, Agrippa, with Soldiers marching. POMPEY. Your hostages I have, so have you mine, And we shall talk before we fight. CAESAR. Most meet That first we come to words, and therefore have we Our written purposes before us sent, Which if thou hast considered, let us know If ’twill tie up thy discontented sword And carry back to Sicily much tall youth That else must perish here.