Charmian!
Charmian!
Charmian!
charmian!
Madam?
Madam?
Madam?
madam?
Ha, ha!
Give me to drink mandragora.
Ha, ha! Give me to drink mandragora.
Ha, ha! Give me to drink mandragora.
ha, ha! give me to drink mandragora.
Why, madam?
Why, madam?
Why, madam?
why, madam?
That I might sleep out this great gap of time
My Antony is away.
That I might sleep out this great gap of time My Antony is away.
That I might sleep out this great gap of time My Antony is away.
that i might sleep out this great gap of time my antony is away.
You think of him too much.
You think of him too much.
You think of him too much.
you think of him too much.
O, ’tis treason!
O, ’tis treason!
O, ’tis treason!
o, ’tis treason!
Madam, I trust not so.
Madam, I trust not so.
Madam, I trust not so.
madam, i trust not so.
Thou, eunuch Mardian!
Thou, eunuch Mardian!
Thou, eunuch Mardian!
thou, eunuch mardian!
Mardian the eunuch is Cleopatra's court attendant — he speaks rarely, absorbs insults gracefully, and has a quiet dignity. Watch for how he asserts a form of inner life ('Yet have I fierce affections') that Cleopatra doesn't expect.
What’s your highness’ pleasure?
What’s your highness’ pleasure?
What’s your highness’ pleasure?
what’s your highness’ pleasure?
The phrase 'salad days' — coined right here in this scene — is remarkable for what it reveals about Cleopatra's self-image. She dismisses her relationship with Julius Caesar as the product of being 'green in judgment, cold in blood.' She is saying: I didn't know what passion was then. I was young, impressionable, performing love rather than feeling it. Now, with Antony, it's real. This is both a statement of self-understanding and a piece of propaganda. She is constructing a narrative in which she has grown into the depth of feeling she now has — which means this love is definitive, not another episode. Whether we believe her is part of what the play asks us to work out.
Not now to hear thee sing. I take no pleasure
In aught an eunuch has. ’Tis well for thee
That, being unseminared, thy freer thoughts
May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections?
Not now to hear thee sing. I take no pleasure In aught an eunuch has. ’Tis well for thee That, being unseminared, thy freer thoughts May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections?
Not now to hear thee sing. I take no pleasure In aught an eunuch has. ’Tis well for thee That, being unseminared, thy freer thoughts May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections?
not now to hear thee sing. i take no pleasure in aught an eunuch has. ’tis well for thee that, being unseminared, thy freer thoughts may not fly forth
Yes, gracious madam.
Yes, gracious madam.
Yes, gracious madam.
yes, gracious madam.
Indeed?
Indeed?
Indeed?
indeed?
Not in deed, madam, for I can do nothing
But what indeed is honest to be done.
Yet have I fierce affections, and think
What Venus did with Mars.
Not in deed, madam, for I can do nothing But what indeed is honest to be done. Yet have I fierce affections, and think What Venus did with Mars.
Not in deed, madam, for I can do nothing But what indeed is honest to be done. Yet have I fierce affections, and think What Venus did with Mars.
not in deed, madam, for i can do nothing but what indeed is honest to be done. yet have i fierce affections, and think what venus did with mars.
O, Charmian,
Where think’st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he?
Or does he walk? Or is he on his horse?
O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!
Do bravely, horse, for wot’st thou whom thou mov’st?
The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm
And burgonet of men. He’s speaking now,
Or murmuring “Where’s my serpent of old Nile?”
For so he calls me. Now I feed myself
With most delicious poison. Think on me
That am with Phœbus’ amorous pinches black,
And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Caesar,
When thou wast here above the ground, I was
A morsel for a monarch. And great Pompey
Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow;
There would he anchor his aspect, and die
With looking on his life.
O, Charmian, Where think’st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he? Or does he walk? Or is he on his horse? O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony! Do bravely, horse, for wot’st thou whom thou mov’st? The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm And burgonet of men. He’s speaking now, Or murmuring “Whe...
O, Charmian, Where think’st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he? Or does he walk? Or is he on his horse? O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony! Do bravely, horse, for wot’st thou whom thou mov’st? The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm And burgonet of men. He’s speaking now, Or murmuring “Whe...
o, charmian, where think’st thou he is now? stands he, or sits he? or does he walk? or is he on his horse? o happy horse, to bear the weight of antony
Sovereign of Egypt, hail!
Sovereign of Egypt, hail!
Sovereign of Egypt, hail!
sovereign of egypt, hail!
How much unlike art thou Mark Antony!
Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath
With his tinct gilded thee.
How goes it with my brave Mark Antony?
How much unlike art thou Mark Antony! Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath With his tinct gilded thee. How goes it with my brave Mark Antony?
How much unlike art thou Mark Antony! Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath With his tinct gilded thee. How goes it with my brave Mark Antony?
how much unlike art thou mark antony! yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath with his tinct gilded thee. how goes it with my brave mark antony
Last thing he did, dear queen,
He kissed—the last of many doubled kisses—
This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart.
Last thing he did, dear queen, He kissed—the last of many doubled kisses— This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart.
Last thing he did, dear queen, He kissed—the last of many doubled kisses— This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart.
last thing he did, dear queen, he kissed—the last of many doubled kisses— this orient pearl. his speech sticks in my heart.
Mine ear must pluck it thence.
Mine ear must pluck it thence.
Mine ear must pluck it thence.
mine ear must pluck it thence.
“Good friend,” quoth he,
“Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends
This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot,
To mend the petty present, I will piece
Her opulent throne with kingdoms. All the east,
Say thou, shall call her mistress.” So he nodded
And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed,
Who neighed so high that what I would have spoke
Was beastly dumbed by him.
“Good friend,” quoth he, “Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot, To mend the petty present, I will piece Her opulent throne with kingdoms. All the east, Say thou, shall call her mistress.” So he nodded And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed, Who neighed...
“Good friend,” quoth he, “Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot, To mend the petty present, I will piece Her opulent throne with kingdoms. All the east, Say thou, shall call her mistress.” So he nodded And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed, Who neighed...
“good friend,” quoth he, “say, the firm roman to great egypt sends this treasure of an oyster; at whose foot, to mend the petty present, i will piece
The 'O happy horse' speech is one of Shakespeare's most complete explorations of what longing feels like from the inside. Cleopatra doesn't just miss Antony — she fantasizes about his body, his voice, his nickname for her. She imagines the horse that carries him as lucky. She places herself in his mind, hearing him ask for her. The fantasy is erotic and also anxious: 'where is he standing? sitting? walking?' — the restlessness of someone who can't concentrate because they're always imagining someone else. Shakespeare gives this particular texture of obsessive love to Cleopatra more fully than to any other character in the play. And then, immediately, she pivots to: 'did you meet my messengers?' — action as the only cure for longing.
What, was he sad or merry?
What, was he sad or merry?
What, was he sad or merry?
what, was he sad or merry?
Like to the time o’ th’ year between the extremes
Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry.
Like to the time o’ th’ year between the extremes Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry.
Like to the time o’ th’ year between the extremes Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry.
like to the time o’ th’ year between the extremes of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry.
O well-divided disposition!—Note him,
Note him, good Charmian, ’tis the man; but note him:
He was not sad, for he would shine on those
That make their looks by his; he was not merry,
Which seemed to tell them his remembrance lay
In Egypt with his joy; but between both.
O heavenly mingle!—Be’st thou sad or merry,
The violence of either thee becomes,
So does it no man else.—Met’st thou my posts?
O well-divided disposition!—Note him, Note him, good Charmian, ’tis the man; but note him: He was not sad, for he would shine on those That make their looks by his; he was not merry, Which seemed to tell them his remembrance lay In Egypt with his joy; but between both. O heavenly mingle!—Be’st thou ...
O well-divided disposition!—Note him, Note him, good Charmian, ’tis the man; but note him: He was not sad, for he would shine on those That make their looks by his; he was not merry, Which seemed to tell them his remembrance lay In Egypt with his joy; but between both. O heavenly mingle!—Be’st thou ...
o well-divided disposition!—note him, note him, good charmian, ’tis the man; but note him: he was not sad, for he would shine on those that make their
Ay, madam, twenty several messengers.
Why do you send so thick?
Ay, madam, twenty several messengers. Why do you send so thick?
Ay, madam, twenty several messengers. Why do you send so thick?
ay, madam, twenty several messengers. why do you send so thick?
Who’s born that day
When I forget to send to Antony
Shall die a beggar.—Ink and paper, Charmian.—
Welcome, my good Alexas.—Did I, Charmian,
Ever love Caesar so?
Who’s born that day When I forget to send to Antony Shall die a beggar.—Ink and paper, Charmian.— Welcome, my good Alexas.—Did I, Charmian, Ever love Caesar so?
Who’s born that day When I forget to send to Antony Shall die a beggar.—Ink and paper, Charmian.— Welcome, my good Alexas.—Did I, Charmian, Ever love Caesar so?
who’s born that day when i forget to send to antony shall die a beggar.—ink and paper, charmian.— welcome, my good alexas.—did i, charmian, ever love
O that brave Caesar!
O that brave Caesar!
O that brave Caesar!
o that brave caesar!
Be choked with such another emphasis!
Say “the brave Antony.”
Be choked with such another emphasis! Say “the brave Antony.”
Be choked with such another emphasis! Say “the brave Antony.”
be choked with such another emphasis! say “the brave antony.”
The valiant Caesar!
The valiant Caesar!
The valiant Caesar!
the valiant caesar!
By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth
If thou with Caesar paragon again
My man of men.
By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth If thou with Caesar paragon again My man of men.
By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth If thou with Caesar paragon again My man of men.
by isis, i will give thee bloody teeth if thou with caesar paragon again my man of men.
By your most gracious pardon,
I sing but after you.
By your most gracious pardon, I sing but after you.
By your most gracious pardon, I sing but after you.
by your most gracious pardon, i sing but after you.
My salad days,
When I was green in judgment, cold in blood,
To say as I said then. But come, away,
Get me ink and paper.
He shall have every day a several greeting,
Or I’ll unpeople Egypt.
My salad days, When I was green in judgment, cold in blood, To say as I said then. But come, away, Get me ink and paper. He shall have every day a several greeting, Or I’ll unpeople Egypt.
My salad days, When I was green in judgment, cold in blood, To say as I said then. But come, away, Get me ink and paper. He shall have every day a several greeting, Or I’ll unpeople Egypt.
my salad days, when i was green in judgment, cold in blood, to say as i said then. but come, away, get me ink and paper. he shall have every day a sev
The Reckoning
The Egypt scenes without Antony show us a Cleopatra in withdrawal — restless, seeking distraction, unable to concentrate on anything but him. Her great speech imagining where Antony is right now ('O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!') is funny and erotic and genuinely besotted. Then Alexas arrives with Antony's gift and his message, and something shifts: Cleopatra stops fantasizing and starts acting, resolving to flood Antony with letters. The audience is left with the image of love as a kind of productive obsession — painful but also fueling.
If this happened today…
Someone's long-distance partner has just gone back to New York after months together in Paris. The person left behind is checking their phone every thirty seconds, trying to distract themselves, asking friends 'what do you think he's doing right now?' — and ends up narrating an entire fantasy about their partner's daily routine. When a mutual friend arrives with a personal note and a gift, they immediately start planning how to fill the inbox. Twenty messages a day minimum. 'He shall have every day a several greeting, or I'll unpeople Egypt.'