CLEOPATRA   Why is my lord enraged against his love?

ANTONY         Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving

And blemish Caesar’s triumph. Let him take thee

And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians;

Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot

Of all thy sex; most monster-like be shown

For poor’st diminutives, for dolts, and let

Patient Octavia plough thy visage up

With her preparèd nails.

Exit Cleopatra             (4.13.31-39)

Uncharacteristically—and a sign of how over-wrought Antony is, and how apprehensive (and ashamed?) Cleopatra is—she speaks only a single line: why is my lord enraged against his love? What’s wrong, why are you so angry with me? He’s not going to explain, it’s gone beyond that; instead, he makes vivid, violent threats. Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving and blemish Caesar’s triumph. If you don’t get out of here right now, get out of my sight, then I’ll kill you on the spot, thereby depriving Caesar of the opportunity of leading you as the prize exhibit in his triumph. And it’s that which Antony elaborates, as a fate (apparently) worse than death. Let him, Caesar, take thee, to the streets of Rome, and hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians, the unruly, raucous Roman commoners. Antony imagines Cleopatra forced to follow Caesar’s chariot, like the greatest spot of all her sex, a stain, a disgrace to womanhood. He imagines her being shown, exhibited, most monster-like, a freak for the diversion and delectation of poor’st diminutives, for dolts, the poorest of the poor, the idiots, a freak displayed in front of other freaks. He imagines her being jeered at, people pointing and laughing, the great and glorious Cleopatra reduced to a thing on show before the dregs of Rome. And almost as an afterthought: let patient Octavia plough thy visage up with her prepared nails. He imagines a personal aspect to this too, Cleopatra humiliated by her rival, her face scratched, clawed, disfigured by Octavia’s nails, grown into claws just for that purpose. Exit Cleopatra indeed—frightened, angry, not willing to stay and listen to this invective, running for her life, confused, bewildered—as lost as Antony himself.