Shakespeare's First Folio Part 651

If thou say so Villaine, thou kil'st thy Mistris: But well and free, if thou so yeild him.

There is Gold, and heere My blewest vaines to kisse: a hand that Kings Haue lipt, and trembled kissing

Mes. First Madam, he is well

Cleo. Why there's more Gold.

But sirrah marke, we vse To say, the dead are well: bring it to that, The Gold I giue thee, will I melt and powr Downe thy ill vttering throate

Mes. Good Madam heare me

Cleo. Well, go too I will: But there's no goodnesse in thy face if Anthony Be free and healthfull; so tart a fauour To trumpet such good tidings. If not well, Thou shouldst come like a Furie crown'd with Snakes, Not like a formall man

Mes. Wilt please you heare me?

Cleo. I haue a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st: Yet if thou say Anthony liues, 'tis well, Or friends with Caesar, or not Captiue to him, Ile set thee in a shower of Gold, and haile Rich Pearles vpon thee

Mes. Madam, he's well

Cleo. Well said

Mes. And Friends with Caesar

Cleo. Th'art an honest man

Mes. Caesar, and he, are greater Friends then euer

Cleo. Make thee a Fortune from me

Mes. But yet Madam

Cleo. I do not like but yet, it does alay The good precedence, fie vpon but yet, But yet is as a Iaylor to bring foorth Some monstrous Malefactor. Prythee Friend, Powre out the packe of matter to mine eare, The good and bad together: he's friends with Caesar, In state of health thou saist, and thou saist, free

Mes. Free Madam, no: I made no such report, He's bound vnto Octauia

Cleo. For what good turne?

Mes. For the best turne i'th' bed

Cleo. I am pale Charmian

Mes. Madam, he's married to Octauia

Cleo. The most infectious Pestilence vpon thee.

Strikes him downe.

Mes. Good Madam patience

Cleo. What say you?

Strikes him.

Hence horrible Villaine, or Ile spurne thine eyes Like b.a.l.l.s before me: Ile vnhaire thy head,

She hales him vp and downe.

Thou shalt be whipt with Wyer, and stew'd in brine, Smarting in lingring pickle

Mes. Gratious Madam, I that do bring the newes, made not the match

Cleo. Say 'tis not so, a Prouince I will giue thee, And make thy Fortunes proud: the blow thou had'st Shall make thy peace, for mouing me to rage, And I will boot thee with what guift beside Thy modestie can begge

Mes. He's married Madam

Cleo. Rogue, thou hast liu'd too long.

Draw a knife.

Mes. Nay then Ile runne: What meane you Madam, I haue made no fault.

Enter.

Char. Good Madam keepe your selfe within your selfe, The man is innocent

Cleo. Some Innocents scape not the thunderbolt: Melt Egypt into Nyle: and kindly creatures Turne all to Serpents. Call the slaue againe, Though I am mad, I will not byte him: Call?

Char. He is afeard to come

Cleo. I will not hurt him, These hands do lacke n.o.bility, that they strike A meaner then my selfe: since I my selfe Haue giuen my selfe the cause. Come hither Sir.

Enter the Messenger againe.

Though it be honest, it is neuer good To bring bad newes: giue to a gratious Message An host of tongues, but let ill tydings tell Themselues, when they be felt

Mes. I haue done my duty

Cleo. Is he married?

I cannot hate thee worser then I do, If thou againe say yes

Mes. He's married Madam

Cleo. The G.o.ds confound thee, Dost thou hold there still?

Mes. Should I lye Madame?

Cleo. Oh, I would thou didst: So halfe my Egypt were submerg'd and made A Cesterne for scal'd Snakes. Go get thee hence, Had'st thou Narcissus in thy face to me, Thou would'st appeere most vgly: He is married?

Mes. I craue your Highnesse pardon

Cleo. He is married?

Mes. Take no offence, that I would not offend you, To punnish me for what you make me do Seemes much vnequall, he's married to Octauia

Cleo. Oh that his fault should make a knaue of thee, That art not what th'art sure of. Get thee hence, The Marchandize which thou hast brought from Rome Are all too deere for me: Lye they vpon thy hand, and be vndone by em

Char. Good your Highnesse patience

Cleo. In praysing Anthony, I haue disprais'd Caesar