It is plain that,
intent upon ennobling Antony, Shakespeare is willing to degrade
Cleopatra beyond nature. Then comes Antony's victory, and his passion at
length finds perfect lyrical expression:
"O thou day o' the world,
Chain mine armed neck; leap thou, attire and all,
Through proof of harness to my heart, and there
Ride on the pants triumphing."
At once Cleopatra catches fire with that responsive flame of womanhood
which was surely her chiefest charm:
"Lord of lords!
O infinite virtue! Com'st thou smiling from
The world's great snare uncaught?"
What magic in the utterance, what a revelation of Cleopatra's character
and of Shakespeare's! To Cleopatra's feminine weakness the world seems
one huge snare which only cunning may escape.
Another day, and final irremediable defeat drives her in fear to the
monument and to that pretended suicide which is the immediate cause of
Antony's despair:
"Unarm, Eros: the long day's task is done,
And we must sleep."
When Antony leaves the stage, Shakespeare's idealizing vision turns to
Cleopatra.
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