Act 2, Scene 5 — Antony and Cleopatra

The argument Cleopatra, restless without Antony, tries to distract herself with music, billiards, fishing — and memories. A messenger arrives from Rome. Before he can speak, she threatens him with gold and death. When he finally delivers the news that Antony has married Octavia, Cleopatra beats him, draws a knife, chases him out — then collects herself and sends for a description of Octavia.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, Alexas.

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [languid longing, craving distraction]

Give me some music—music, moody food

Of us that trade in love.

Play me some music—music that feeds the mood of those of us who deal in love.

Put on some music—the kind that feeds your soul when you're in love.

play some music mood food for people in love

ALL [attendants echoing the command]

The music, ho!

the music, ho!

Enter Mardian, the eunuch.

CLEOPATRA [restless, changing her mind on a whim]

Let it alone. Let’s to billiards. Come, Charmian.

Never mind it. Let's go play billiards. Come on, Charmian.

Forget about it. Let's play billiards instead. Come on, Charmian.

skip the music lets play billiards

CHARMIAN [teasingly deflecting to Mardian]

My arm is sore. Best play with Mardian.

My arm is aching. You should partner with Mardian instead of me.

My arm hurts. Play with Mardian today.

my arms sore play with mardian

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [wry innuendo, bored and flirtatious]

As well a woman with an eunuch played

As with a woman. Come, you’ll play with me, sir?

A woman plays just as well with a eunuch as with another woman. Come on, will you play with me, sir?

Women play just as well with eunuchs as with other women. So will you play with me, sir?

woman plays eunuch same as woman so play w me?

MARDIAN [dryly playing along with the joke]

As well as I can, madam.

As well as I'm able, madam.

As best as I can, madam.

ill do my best

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [playfully imagining Antony as her catch]

And when good will is showed, though’t come too short,

The actor may plead pardon. I’ll none now.

Give me mine angle; we’ll to the river. There,

My music playing far off, I will betray

Tawny-finned fishes. My bended hook shall pierce

Their slimy jaws, and as I draw them up

I’ll think them every one an Antony,

And say “Ah, ha! You’re caught.”

When good intentions are shown, even if they fall short, the person may ask forgiveness. I'll have none of that now. Give me my fishing rod; we'll go to the river. There, with my music playing in the distance, I will trick the brown-finned fish. My bent hook will pierce their slimy mouths, and as I pull them up, I'll imagine each one is an Antony, and say "Ha! You're caught."

Look, when someone tries hard but doesn't quite cut it, they can beg forgiveness. Not interested. Hand me my fishing pole—we're going to the river. I'll have my music playing off in the distance while I trick these fish with their golden fins. My hook will pierce right through their slimy jaws, and as I reel them in, I'll pretend each one is Antony and say "Got you!"

give me fishing rod lets go to river ill trick the fish imagine each ones antony

"I'll think them every one an Antony, / And say 'Ah, ha! You're caught.'" This speech is Cleopatra's erotic fantasy of control: she imagines mastering Antony the way a fisher masters a fish — hooking him, pulling him up, possessing him. The whole speech slides from casual boredom into something deeper. She misses him and she wants to own him. These are the same impulse.

CHARMIAN ≋ verse [fondly teasing her about the prank]

’Twas merry when

You wagered on your angling; when your diver

Did hang a salt fish on his hook, which he

With fervency drew up.

It was fun when you made bets on your fishing, when your diver hung a salted fish on his hook, which he eagerly pulled up.

It was so funny when you'd bet on your fishing, remember? Your diver hung a salt fish on his hook and pulled it up so eagerly.

it was funny when u wagered on fishing diver pulled up salt fish

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [nostalgic, savoring her power over him]

That time?—O times!—

I laughed him out of patience; and that night

I laughed him into patience, and next morn,

Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed,

Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst

I wore his sword Philippan.

That time?—Oh, the times!—I laughed until he lost his patience, and that night I laughed him back into patience, and the next morning, before the ninth hour, I drank with him until he went to bed, then I dressed him in my headdresses and cloaks while I wore his sword.

Back then? Oh, those times! I made him lose his patience with my laughter, and then that night I laughed him back into good humor. The next morning before nine o'clock, I drank with him until he went to bed, then I dressed him in my hats and cloaks while I wore his sword.

i made him lose patience then laughed him back i put my clothes on him wore his sword

"put my tires and mantles on him, whilst / I wore his sword Philippan" This is one of the play's key images of gender reversal: Antony in Cleopatra's robes, Cleopatra wearing his battle sword. Shakespeare uses this image — which appears in Plutarch — to show the erotic play of power between them. It's transgressive in Roman terms (a man in woman's dress, a woman wearing a soldier's honor-weapon), which is exactly why Philo and Caesar find the relationship so disturbing.

Why it matters This memory sequence is the emotional baseline of the scene — and of Cleopatra's grief. She is remembering a specific, physical, playful intimacy. When the news about Octavia arrives, the blow falls on this exact memory: that person, those times, that intimacy is now, she fears, someone else's.

Enter Messenger.

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [eager, starved for news of Antony]

O! from Italy!

Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears,

That long time have been barren.

Oh! From Italy! Shove your fertile news into my ears, That have been empty for a long time.

Oh! News from Italy! Tell me everything—my ears have been starving for news like this.

oh! from italy! fill my ears with news. i've been waiting forever

MESSENGER [hesitant, afraid to begin]

Madam, madam—

madam, madam—

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [torn between dread and desperate hope]

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 lipped, and trembled kissing.

Antony is dead! If you tell me that, villain, you will kill your mistress. But if he is alive and free, if you confirm that, there is gold for you, and here are my veins—my most precious ones—to kiss, and a hand that kings have kissed and trembled while kissing.

Antony is dead? If you tell me that, you bastard, you're killing me. But if he's alive and free, if you tell me that, you'll get gold and you can kiss my veins—the most precious ones—and my hand, which kings have kissed and trembled over.

antony dead?? if u say so ur killing me if hes alive and free ill give u gold

MESSENGER [carefully leading with the safe news]

First, madam, he’s well.

First, madam, he is alive and well.

First thing, madam—he's doing fine.

hes well

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [threatening him if he's lying]

Why, there’s more gold.

But sirrah, mark, we use

To say the dead are well. Bring it to that,

The gold I give thee will I melt and pour

Down thy ill-uttering throat.

Well, there's more gold for you. But listen carefully—when we say the dead are well, that's just polite expression. If you push it to that, the gold I give you I will melt and pour down your lying throat.

Good, there's more gold for you. But listen here—when we say the dead are well, that's just a polite expression. If you try to trick me like that, I'll melt the gold I give you and pour it down your lying throat.

more gold 4 u if u lie ill pour melted gold down ur throat

MESSENGER [pleading to be allowed to speak]

Good madam, hear me.

Please, madam, listen to me.

I'm begging you, just hear me out.

please listen

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [reading his face for bad news]

Well, go to, I will.

But there’s no goodness in thy face if Antony

Be free and healthful. So tart a favour

To trumpet such good tidings! If not well,

Thou shouldst come like a Fury crowned with snakes,

Not like a formal man.

Fine, I will listen. But there's no goodness in your face if Antony is free and healthy. What a sour expression to announce such good news! If things weren't good, you should come like a Fury with snakes in her hair, not like a proper gentleman.

Okay, I'll listen. But you don't look happy about it—if Antony is really free and healthy, why do you look so sour? If the news were bad, you'd look like a Fury with snakes on her head, not like some uptight nobleman.

ok ill listen but u look sour if news was bad ud look like fury

MESSENGER [timidly asking again for a hearing]

Will’t please you hear me?

Will you please listen to me?

Will you please just hear me out?

will u listen?

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [barely restraining the urge to strike him]

I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak’st.

Yet if thou say Antony lives, is well,

Or friends with Caesar, or not captive to him,

I’ll set thee in a shower of gold and hail

Rich pearls upon thee.

I want to strike you before you even speak. Yet if you tell me Antony is alive and well, or is friends with Caesar, or is not Caesar's prisoner, I will cover you with a shower of gold and rain rich pearls on you.

I really want to hit you before you even open your mouth. But if you tell me Antony is alive and doing well, or that he's friends with Caesar, or that Caesar hasn't captured him, I'll shower you with gold and rain down pearls on you.

i want to hit u but if antony is alive ill give u gold

MESSENGER [repeating the reassurance cautiously]

Madam, he’s well.

madam, he’s well.

CLEOPATRA [relieved, pleased with the news]

Well said.

well said.

MESSENGER [adding good news, gaining confidence]

And friends with Caesar.

And he is friends with Caesar.

They're allies now.

hes friends w caesar

CLEOPATRA [warmly praising him, softening]

Th’ art an honest man.

You are an honest man.

You're an honest guy.

ur honest

MESSENGER [emboldened, delivering more good news]

Caesar and he are greater friends than ever.

Caesar and he are better friends than they have ever been.

Caesar and Antony are closer friends than they've ever been.

hes closer w caesar than ever

🎭 Dramatic irony The audience knows, from 2.3, that Antony has already privately resolved to return to Egypt despite the marriage. Caesar and Antony are 'greater friends than ever' — but Antony is already planning to destroy that friendship by abandoning Octavia. Cleopatra doesn't know yet, but the audience does: she hasn't lost him the way she thinks she has.

CLEOPATRA [generously promising him reward]

Make thee a fortune from me.

I will make you a fortune.

I'm going to make you rich.

ill make u rich

MESSENGER [reluctantly signaling bad news to come]

But yet, madam—

but yet, madam—

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [dreading the caveat, demanding it out]

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. Prithee, friend,

Pour out the 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.

I don't like "But yet"—it destroys the good news that came before. Down with "But yet"! "But yet" is like a jailer bringing forth some terrible criminal. I ask you, friend, pour out everything you know into my ear, both good and bad together: he's friends with Caesar, you say, and he's in good health, and you say he's free.

I hate "But yet"—it ruins good news. To hell with "But yet"! It's like a jailer opening the cell for some horrible criminal. Look, friend, just tell me everything—good and bad at once. He's friends with Caesar, you say, and healthy, and you say he's free.

hate but yet it ruins everything just tell me hes w caesar healthy free

MESSENGER ≋ verse [bracing himself, delivering the blow]

Free, madam? No. I made no such report.

He’s bound unto Octavia.

Free, madam? No. I made no such report. He is bound to Octavia.

Free, madam? No. I said no such thing. He's bound to Octavia.

not free hes bound to octavia

CLEOPATRA [sharp, suspicious demand]

For what good turn?

For what favor or benefit?

What's the benefit to him?

for what reason?

MESSENGER [blunt, wincing at his own words]

For the best turn i’ th’ bed.

For the best favor in bed.

For the best time in bed with her.

for the best time in bed

"For the best turn i' th' bed." 'Turn' means both 'service' or 'act' generally, and specifically a sexual act — the best kind of 'turning over' in bed. The messenger, perhaps trying to get this over with, is cruelly blunt. It lands as a physical blow because of the double meaning.

CLEOPATRA [stunned, feeling the blood drain]

I am pale, Charmian.

Charmian, I'm losing all my color.

I'm going pale, Charmian.

im pale

MESSENGER [delivering the full truth at last]

Madam, he’s married to Octavia.

Madam, he is married to Octavia.

Madam, he married Octavia.

hes married to octavia

CLEOPATRA [erupting in fury at the messenger]

The most infectious pestilence upon thee!

May the worst plague strike you!

May disease consume you!

may plague strike u

[_Strikes him down._]

MESSENGER [cowering, begging for calm]

Good madam, patience.

good madam, patience.

CLEOPATRA [disbelieving, demanding he repeat it]

What say you?

what say you?

[_Strikes him again._]

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [violent rage, threatening to maim him]

Hence, horrible villain, or I’ll spurn thine eyes

Like balls before me! I’ll unhair thy head!

Get out, horrible villain, or I'll kick your eyes Like balls in front of me! I'll rip the hair from your head!

Get out of here, you horrible monster, or I'll kick your eyes like they're balls! I'll tear the hair right out of your head!

get out! i'll kick your eyes like balls! i'll rip your hair out!

[_She hales him up and down._]

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [vicious, savoring cruel punishments]

Thou shalt be whipped with wire and stewed in brine,

Smarting in ling’ring pickle.

You will be whipped with wire and boiled in brine, Stinging in prolonged vinegar.

I'll have you whipped with wire and boiled in brine, left burning and marinating.

ur gonna be whipped with wire and boiled in brine. torture

MESSENGER ≋ verse [protesting his innocence, fearful]

Gracious madam,

I that do bring the news made not the match.

Gracious madam, I who bring you this news did not arrange this marriage.

Gracious madam, I didn't arrange this marriage—I'm just the messenger.

i didnt arrange this im just messenger

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [bargaining desperately for a denial]

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.

Tell me it's not true, and I'll give you a province and make your fortune great. The blow you just received will serve as compensation for making me so angry, and I will add whatever gift your modesty allows you to ask for.

Tell me it's not true, and I'll give you a province and make you incredibly wealthy. That hit you got from me will be payment for upsetting me so much, and I'll throw in whatever else you have the nerve to ask for.

say it aint true ill give u a province and more gifts

MESSENGER [steadfastly repeating the truth despite her rage]

He’s married, madam.

he’s married, madam.

CLEOPATRA [cold, murderous threat]

Rogue, thou hast lived too long.

You scoundrel, you have lived too long.

You bastard, you've lived too long.

u bastard u lived too long

[_Draws a knife._]

MESSENGER ≋ verse [fleeing in terror, bewildered]

Nay then I’ll run.

What mean you, madam? I have made no fault.

Then I'll run away. What do you want, madam? I have done nothing wrong.

Then I'm out of here. What do you want, madam? I didn't do anything.

im running i did nothing wrong

[_Exit._]

CHARMIAN ≋ verse [calmly trying to restrain her mistress]

Good madam, keep yourself within yourself.

The man is innocent.

Good madam, control yourself and stay composed. This man has done nothing wrong.

Madam, please keep it together. This man is innocent.

keep it together hes innocent

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [still seething, half-relenting]

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!

Some innocent people don't escape the thunderbolt. May Egypt melt into the Nile, and all gentle creatures turn into serpents! Call the slave back. Though I am angry, I won't bite him. Call!

Some innocent people get struck by lightning anyway. May Egypt turn into the Nile, and all gentle creatures become snakes! Call the man back. I'm angry, but I won't actually hurt him. Call!

innocents dont escape lightning call him back im mad but wont bite

CHARMIAN [gently reporting the messenger's fear]

He is afeard to come.

He is afraid to come.

He's too scared to come back.

hes scared

CLEOPATRA [calming herself, offering reassurance]

I will not hurt him.

I will not harm him.

I won't hurt him.

i wont hurt him

[_Exit Charmian._]

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [ashamed, blaming herself instead]

These hands do lack nobility that they strike

A meaner than myself, since I myself

Have given myself the cause.

These hands lack nobility when they strike Someone lower than me, because I myself Have caused this situation.

It's not noble of me to hit someone beneath my station, especially when I'm the one who brought this on myself.

i shouldn't hit someone lower than me. this is my fault

Enter the Messenger again with Charmian.

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [composed now, reflecting ruefully]

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.

Come here, sir. Although it's truthful, it's never good To deliver bad news. Give a kind message Many voices to speak it, but let bad news Speak for itself when people feel it.

Come here. Yes, it's true, but it's never good to deliver bad news. A good message needs lots of voices to spread it, but bad news speaks for itself once people feel it.

come here. bad news doesn't need many voices. it speaks for itself when people feel it

MESSENGER [wary, defending himself curtly]

I have done my duty.

I have fulfilled my duty.

I've done my job.

ive done my duty

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [still clinging to disbelief]

Is he married?

I cannot hate thee worser than I do

If thou again say “Yes.”

Is he married? I cannot hate you any more than I already do, unless you say yes again.

Is he married? I can't hate you any worse than I do, so don't say yes again.

is he married?? i already hate u

MESSENGER [resigned to repeating the unwelcome truth]

He’s married, madam.

he’s married, madam.

CLEOPATRA [cursing him for not relenting]

The gods confound thee! Dost thou hold there still!

May the gods destroy you! Do you still maintain that?

Curse you! Are you still saying that's true?

curse u stop saying that

MESSENGER [defensive, appealing to reason]

Should I lie, madam?

Should I lie to you, madam?

Would you prefer if I lied to you?

should i lie?

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [bitterly wishing him a liar]

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?

Oh, I wish you would lie, even if it meant half of Egypt sank and became a pool for scaled snakes! Go, get out of here. If you had the beauty of Narcissus, you would still look most ugly to me. Is he married?

Oh, I wish you would lie—even if it meant Egypt sank halfway and filled with snakes. Get out! Even if you looked like Narcissus, you'd still be hideous to me. Is he married?

wish u would lie even if egypt sank ud still be ugly is he married??

MESSENGER [humbly begging forgiveness]

I crave your highness’ pardon.

I ask for your forgiveness, highness.

I'm asking for your forgiveness.

im sorry

CLEOPATRA [numb, repeating the question]

He is married?

he is married?

MESSENGER ≋ verse [defending himself while confirming again]

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.

Don't be angry that I would prefer not to offend you. To punish me for what you're forcing me to say seems very unfair. He is married to Octavia.

Please don't take it the wrong way—I don't want to upset you. But punishing me for saying what you're making me say isn't fair. He's married to Octavia.

its not my fault im just messenger hes married to octavia

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [dismissing him bitterly, blaming Antony instead]

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!

Oh, that his fault should make you appear a scoundrel, when you're not even sure of what you're saying! Get out! The goods you've brought from Rome are all too expensive for me. Let them stay unsold with you, and may they destroy you!

It's so unfair—his mistakes make you look like a villain, and you're not even sure what you're saying! Get out of here! All those goods you brought from Rome cost way too much. Keep them—let them destroy you!

ur not even sure get out keep those goods let them ruin u

[_Exit Messenger._]

CHARMIAN [soothing her mistress once more]

Good your highness, patience.

Please, highness, be patient.

Your highness, you need to calm down.

please be patient

CLEOPATRA [rueful self-reproach]

In praising Antony I have dispraised Caesar.

In praising Antony, I have insulted Caesar.

By praising Antony, I've put down Caesar.

i praised antony over caesar

CHARMIAN [wry, gently agreeing]

Many times, madam.

many times, madam.

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [exhausted, faint with grief]

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.

I am paying the price now. Lead me away from here; I am fainting. Oh Iras, Charmian! It doesn't matter. Go to that messenger, good Alexas, tell him to report on Octavia's appearance, her age, her temperament; make sure he doesn't leave out the color of her hair. Bring me word quickly.

Now I'm paying for it. Get me out of here, I'm fainting. Oh Iras, Charmian! Never mind. Go find that messenger, Alexas, and tell him to describe Octavia—what she looks like, how old she is, her personality, especially her hair color. Come back and tell me right away.

im paying for it im fainting tell messenger describe octavia her looks age personality hair quick

Why it matters Cleopatra collapses and strategizes in the same breath — grief and intelligence firing simultaneously. This is the scene's final image of her character: she asks for Octavia's hair color while still claiming to faint.

[_Exit Alexas._]

CLEOPATRA ≋ verse [torn between fury and longing]

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.

Let him go forever—no, let him stay, Charmian. Though he looks monstrous one way, He's like Mars from another. [To Mardian] Tell Alexas To bring me word how tall she is. Have mercy on me, Charmian, But don't speak to me. Take me to my room.

Just let him go—actually, no, don't let him go, Charmian. He's hideous one moment and godlike the next. [To Mardian] Alexas, I need you to find out how tall she is. I'm falling apart, Charmian, but please, just don't say anything to me. Get me to my room.

let him go forever... no actually keep him he's like a monster then a god how tall is she i can't do this rn. stop talking. to my room

[_Exeunt._]

The Reckoning

This is the most theatrically explosive scene in Act Two — and one of the funniest, in a dark way. The Messenger is in an impossible position: every time he tries to deliver good news, Cleopatra escalates the stakes; when he finally delivers the bad news, she tries to kill him. The scene is not just comic. It's a portrait of a woman whose power has one blind spot: Antony. Everything else she controls; this one thing she cannot. Her self-recovery at the end — 'Lead me from hence. I faint.' followed immediately by 'Go to the fellow, good Alexas, bid him report the feature of Octavia' — shows exactly who she is. She collapses and she strategizes in the same breath.

If this happened today…

An executive gets a call from her assistant: her partner just announced at a press conference that he's made a major strategic pivot — one that involves someone else. She's blindsided. She screams at the assistant. She throws something. She briefly pulls herself together. Then she says: 'I need everything on her. Background, reputation, resume, photo. Get me that by end of day.'

Continue to 2.6 →