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 thy 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.

Madam he's married to Octavia.

CLEOPATRA.

The most infectious pestilence upon thee!
[_Strikes him down._

MESSENGER.

Good madam, patience.

CLEOPATRA.

What say you? [_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
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 lived 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.