Where art thou, death?
Come hither, come! come, come and take a queen
Worth many babes and beggars!
PROCULEIUS.
O temperance, lady?
CLEOPATRA.
Sir, I will eat no meat; I'll not drink, sir:
If idle talk will once be necessary.
I'll not sleep neither; this mortal house I'll ruin,
Do Cæsar what he can! Know, sir, that I
Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court,
Nor once be chastis'd with the sober eye
Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up,
And show me to the shouting varletry
Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt
Be gentle grave to me! Rather on Nilus' mud
Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies
Blow me into abhorring! Rather make
My country's high pyramids my gibbet,
And hang me up in chains!
In the same spirit of royal bravado, but finer still, and worked up with a truly Oriental exuberance of fancy and imagery, is her famous description of Antony, addressed to Dolabella:—
Most noble empress you have heard of me?
CLEOPATRA.
I cannot tell.
DOLABELLA.