by Shakspeare, but he has made the
finest use of them in his delineation of manners. Hence the occasional
freedom of her women and her attendants, in the midst of their fears and
flatteries, becomes most natural and consistent: hence, too, their
devoted attachment and fidelity, proved even in death. But as
illustrative of Cleopatra's disposition, perhaps the finest and most
characteristic scene in the whole play, is that in which the messenger
arrives from Rome with the tidings of Antony's marriage with Octavia.
She perceives at once with quickness that all is not well, and she
hastens to anticipate the worst, that she may have the pleasure of being
disappointed. Her impatience to know what she fears to learn, the
vivacity with which she gradually works herself up into a state of
excitement, and at length into fury, is wrought out with a force of
truth which makes us recoil.

CLEOPATRA.

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 lipp'd, and trembled kissing.

MESSENGER.

First, madam, he is well.

CLEOPATRA.

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.

MESSENGER.

Good madam, hear me.

CLEOPATRA.

Well, go to, I will.
But there's no goodness in thy face. If Antony
Be free and healthful, why so tart a favor
To trumpet such good tidings? If not well,
Thou should'st come like a fury crown'd with snakes.

MESSENGER.

Wil't please you hear me?

CLEOPATRA.

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.

MESSENGER.

Madam, he's well.

CLEOPATRA.

Well said.

MESSENGER.

And friends with Caesar.

CLEOPATRA.

Thou art an honest man.