Enter Charmian

CLEOPATRA               Now, Charmian!

Show me, my women, like a queen. Go fetch

My best attires. I am again for Cydnus

To meet Mark Antony. Sirrah Iras, go.

Now, noble Charmian, we’ll dispatch indeed,

And when thou hast done this chare I’ll give thee leave

To play till doomsday.—Bring our crown and all.

[Exit Iras]       (5.2.222-228)

Charmian’s back, her task—whatever it was—carried out. And Cleopatra switches mode: business, time to act. Now, Charmian! It’s time. Here we go. Show me, my women, like a queen. You need to dress me, prepare me, set me up, as the regal woman I am. I need to look my best, the absolute antithesis of any squeaking Cleopatra, so go fetch my best attires. I am Cleopatra, the one, the only, the original. Fetch my most splendid, luxurious, queenly clothes—because I am again for Cydnus to meet Mark Antony. That’s what we’ve got to stage, that’s what we’ve got to recapture, that extraordinary moment, hitherto unseen, but so powerfully evoked, that moment of ecstasy and astonishment when he saw me for the first time, a creature of silk, silver and gold, heady with perfume and attended by cupids and nereids, burning in my barge. That’s what we’re staging; that’s where we’re going. I am about to meet him again, you see. Sirrah Iras, go; it’s an affectionate address to a servant—come on, jump to it. Charmian’s the one who knows all the details of what’s planned, so, now noble Charmian, we’ll dispatch indeed. Let’s do this, and as quickly as we can—and dispatch also has the sense of, put an end to it all, finish absolutely, not just, do it quickly. And when thou has done this chare, this task—when you’ve done this thing for me, this little job I’ve asked you to undertake, which is also a kindness, a favour, a deed of charity—I’ll give thee leave to play till doomsday. Then you can have all the time off in the world. Perhaps a final instruction to Iras, as she exits: bring our crown and all. Don’t forget that.