CHARMIAN     Alexas—come, his fortune, his fortune. O, let him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee, and let her die too, and give him a worse, and let worse follow worse till the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave, fiftyfold a cuckold. Good Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee.

IRAS    Amen, dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people. For as it is a heart-breaking to see a handsome man loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded. Therefore, dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly.

CHARMIAN     Amen.

ALEXAS           Lo now, if it lay in their hands to make me a cuckold, they would make themselves whores but they’d do’t.          (1.2.52-64)

And finally Charmian and Iras gang up on Alexas, asking that his fortune be told now, and beseeching the goddess Isis as to its nature. O, let him marry a woman that cannot go: the meaning of go here is vague, but in the context it’s probably sexual, a woman who’s not interested in sex and who takes no pleasure in it—and then, let her die too, and give him a worse, and let worse follow worse. Charmian wishes for Alexas a string of sexual and marital calamities, sexless marriages and serial widowerhood, until he’s finally outlived by his last wife, the worst of all, who will follow him laughing to his grave, fiftyfold a cuckold. He will live in a sexual desert until at the last his wife is sexually insatiable—only not with him, she’ll cuckold him fifty times over. (It’s a neat narrative of male sexual anxieties, and not just early modern ones.) Mock seriousness (and it wouldn’t be out of place for Charmian to chant in a mock-liturgical manner): Good Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee. So long as you grant me this mean and frivolous request, I won’t worry if you turn a deaf ear to my more significant and generous requests. Iras picks up the liturgical tone and her phrasing even echoes the prayerbook: Amen, dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people. It is as heart-breaking to see a handsome man loose-wived, married to an unfaithful and promiscuous wife (is she finally paying Alexas a compliment, describing him as a handsome man?) as it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded (is he in fact the foul knave, to whom no woman could be faithful?) Therefore, dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly. Decorum is conspicuous by its absence here, so it’s ironic to be asking Isis to act appropriately. Amen to that, chimes Charmian. It’s all unserious, really, there has to be a sense of familiar banter, regular jokes at the expense of the more powerful courtiers (the men especially): this is a place where women can be frank about their desires and their appetites, where they can speak unchecked and where pleasures of all kinds are paramount. Alexas gives up, self-mockingly, even as he acknowledges the women’s power and that they’ve won this particular bout of wits: Lo now, if it lay in their hands to make me a cuckold, they would make themselves whores but they’d do’t. Even if they were married to me, they’d make a point of cuckolding me; they’d become whores rather than fail to do so. (A rather obscure rejoinder from Alexas, but what matters more is the atmosphere of unseriousness, moral laxity, and sexual freedom.)