Antony and Cleopatra, Act 2, Scene 5

Give me some music—music, moody food Of us that trade in love.

Give me some music — music, the melancholy food of those of us who make a business of love.

The music, ho!

Music, there!

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

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

My arm is sore. Best play with Mardian.

My arm is sore. You'd better play with Mardian.

As well a woman with an eunuch played As with a woman. Come, you’ll play with me, sir?

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

As well as I can, madam.

As well as I can, madam.

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.”

And when someone shows good will, even if it falls short, the performer may ask to be excused. I don't want to play now. Give me my fishing rod; we'll go to the river. There, with my music playing in the distance, I'll trap fish with tawny fins. My bent hook will pierce their slimy jaws, and as I pull them up I'll imagine every one of them is an Antony, and say, "Aha! You're caught."

’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 funny that time when you made a bet on your fishing, and your diver hung a salted fish on his hook, and he hauled it up so eagerly.

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, those days! I laughed him out of his temper; and that night I laughed him back into good humour; and the next morning, before nine o'clock, I got him so drunk he went to bed, and then I dressed him in my headdresses and robes while I wore his sword Philippan.

O! from Italy! Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears, That long time have been barren.

Oh! From Italy! Ram your fruitful news into my ears, which have been barren so long.

Madam, madam—

Madam, madam—

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 say that, you scoundrel, you kill your mistress. But if you report him well and free, there is gold for you, and here are my bluest veins for you to kiss, a hand that kings have put their lips to, and trembled as they kissed.

First, madam, he’s well.

First, madam, he's well.

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.

Why, there's more gold. But listen, fellow, we're used to saying the dead are well. If that's what you mean, I'll melt the gold I give you and pour it down your ill-speaking throat.

Good madam, hear me.

Good madam, listen to me.

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.

All right, go on, I will. But there's no good news in your face if Antony is free and healthy. Such a sour expression to announce such good news! If he isn't well, you should come like a Fury crowned with snakes, not like an ordinary man.

Will’t please you hear me?

Will you please listen to me?

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 have a mind to hit you before you speak. Yet if you say Antony is alive and well, or friends with Caesar, or not his prisoner, I'll set you in a shower of gold and rain rich pearls down on you.

Madam, he’s well.

Madam, he's well.

Well said.

Well said.

And friends with Caesar.

And friends with Caesar.

Th’ art an honest man.

You're an honest man.

Caesar and he are greater friends than ever.

Caesar and he are better friends than ever.

Make thee a fortune from me.

I'll make your fortune.

But yet, madam—

But still, madam—

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 still" — it spoils the good news that came before. Damn "but still"! "But still" is like a jailer bringing out some monstrous criminal. Please, friend, pour the whole load of news into my ear, the good and the bad together: he's friends with Caesar, in good health, you say; and, you say, free.

Free, madam? No. I made no such report. He’s bound unto Octavia.

Free, madam? No. I didn't say that. He's bound to Octavia.

For what good turn?

In return for what favour?

For the best turn i’ th’ bed.

For the best service in bed.

I am pale, Charmian.

I've gone pale, Charmian.

Madam, he’s married to Octavia.

Madam, he's married to Octavia.

The most infectious pestilence upon thee!

May the most catching plague fall on you!

Good madam, patience.

Good madam, be patient.

What say you?

What did you say?

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 along in front of me like balls! I'll tear the hair off your head!

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

You'll be whipped with wire and stewed in salt water, stinging in a slow pickle.

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

Gracious madam, I only bring the news; I didn't arrange the marriage.

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.

Say it isn't true, and I'll give you a province and make you splendidly rich. The blow you took will count as your punishment for driving me into a rage, and I'll reward you on top of that with whatever gift your modesty dares to ask for.

He’s married, madam.

He's married, madam.

Rogue, thou hast lived too long.

Scoundrel, you've lived too long.

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

In that case I'll run. What do you mean by this, madam? I've done nothing wrong.

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

Good madam, keep control of yourself. The man is innocent.

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 lightning bolt. Let Egypt melt into the Nile, and let all gentle creatures turn into serpents! Call the slave back. Though I'm furious, I won't bite him. Call him!

He is afeard to come.

He's afraid to come.

I will not hurt him.

I won't hurt him.

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

These hands of mine are without nobility when they strike someone lower than myself, since I am the one who gave myself the reason.

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. Even if it's honest, it's never a good thing to bring bad news. Give a welcome message a whole army of tongues, but let bad news announce itself when it's felt.

I have done my duty.

I've done my duty.

Is he married? I cannot hate thee worser than I do If thou again say “Yes.”

Is he married? I can't hate you any worse than I already do if you say "Yes" again.

He’s married, madam.

He's married, madam.

The gods confound thee! Dost thou hold there still!

May the gods destroy you! Are you still sticking to that!

Should I lie, madam?

Should I lie, madam?

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 were lying, even if half my Egypt were flooded and turned into a tank for scaly snakes! Go on, get out of here. Even if you had the face of Narcissus, you would look utterly ugly to me. He's married?

I crave your highness’ pardon.

I beg your highness's pardon.

He is married?

He's married?

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 don't want to anger you. To punish me for what you force me to do seems very unfair. He's married to Octavia.

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 offence should turn you into a villain, when you are not the thing you're so certain about! Get out of here! The goods you've brought from Rome are far too costly for me. Let them stay unsold on your hands, and may they ruin you!

Good your highness, patience.

Good your highness, be patient.

In praising Antony I have dispraised Caesar.

In praising Antony I have run Caesar down.

Many times, madam.

Many times, madam.

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.

Now I'm paying for it. Take me away from here; I'm about to faint. Oh Iras, Charmian! It doesn't matter. Go to the man, good Alexas, and tell him to describe Octavia's appearance, her age, her temperament; don't let him leave out the colour of her hair. Bring me back word quickly.

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 for good — no, don't let him go, Charmian. Though from one side he looks like a Gorgon, from the other he's a Mars. [To Mardian] Tell Alexas to bring me word how tall she is. Pity me, Charmian, but don't speak to me. Take me to my room.