And the pungent irony of Enobarbus has well exposed her feminine arts, when he says, on the occasion of Antony's intended departure,—
Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of this, dies
instantly: I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer
moment.
ANTONY.
She is cunning past man's thought.
ENOBARBUS.
Alack, sir, no! her passions are made of nothing but the
finest part of pure love. We cannot call her winds and
waters, sighs and tears; they are greater storms and
tempests than almanacs can report; this cannot be cunning
in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as
Jove.
The whole secret of her absolute dominion over the facile Antony may be found in one little speech:—
See where he is—who's with him—what he does—
(I did not send you.) If you find him sad,
Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report
That I am sudden sick! Quick! and return.
CHARMIAN.
Madam, methinks if you did love him dearly,
You do not hold the method to enforce
The like from him.