Enter a Messenger

MESSENGER  News, my good Lord, from Rome.

ANTONY         Grates me—the sum.

CLEOPATRA               Nay, hear them, Antony.

Fulvia perchance is angry; or who knows

If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent

His powerful mandate to you: ‘Do this, or this,

Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that.

Perform’t, or else we damn thee.’   (1.1.18-25)

But the lovers can’t remain gloriously isolated because—almost parodically—Enter a Messenger: News, my good Lord, from Rome. Is the bubble burst? But maybe this is the sort of thing that Antony is used to, a regular, unwelcome interruption to be swatted away or dealt with as speedily as possible. Grates me—well, this is annoying, he says, but tell me quickly; the sum, just give me the gen, and make it snappy. Cleopatra’s got to have her say, though, taking every opportunity not just to remind Antony (and the others) of her presence, but to needle and mock him too. No no no, you’ve got to hear the nice man out, and in every detail, she says. Perhaps Fulvia is angry (who’s she? some in the original audience would know, but the fortuitous initial F allows Cleopatra to emphasise the name with fricative vituperation, even without identifying Antony’s actual wife explicitly). Or maybe there’s orders from Caesar, Octavius—a bit embarrassing to be at the beck and call of a boy, isn’t it? (more or less a boy; he was twenty-three, just over half Antony’s age), scarce-bearded, all the same: you’d better look smart! He might want you to annex another country, or else liberate one, take in that kingdom or enfranchise that. Do this, or this, do this or that, do it now, jump to it (says the boy Caesar, says Cleopatra)—perform’t, or else we damn thee. You’ll be in big trouble!