Hence, horrible villain, or I’ll spurn thine eyes Like balls before me! I’ll unhair thy head! 

 [She hales him up and down.] 

 Thou shalt be whipped with wire and stewed in brine, Smarting in ling’ring pickle. 

 MESSENGER. Gracious madam, I that do bring the news made not the match. 

 CLEOPATRA. 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. 

 MESSENGER. He’s married, madam. 

 CLEOPATRA. Rogue, thou hast lived too long. 

 [Draws a knife.] 

 MESSENGER. Nay then I’ll run. What mean you, madam? I have made no fault. 

 [Exit.] 

 CHARMIAN. Good madam, keep yourself within yourself. The man is innocent. 

 CLEOPATRA. 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! 

 CHARMIAN. He is afeard to come. 

 CLEOPATRA. I will not hurt him. 

 [Exit Charmian.] 

Charmian

 These hands do lack nobility that they strike A meaner than myself, since I myself Have given myself the cause. 

 Enter the Messenger again with Charmian. 

Messenger

Charmian

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