. . . and I shall see
Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness
I' the posture of a whore.

(V.ii.207-220)

Horrible prospects indeed for the Queen the audience has come to care about
deeply for her power, her pride, her spirits, and her sexuality. Like Antony, she
seems to us too large for this world. How does Shakespeare solve her dilemma
and create her opportunity to die suitably and at the right moment, saving herself
and the future's view of her? "Enter Guardsman, and Clowne." Cleopatra clearly
expects him; before he is announced she has suicide in mind, and is asking her
maids to dress her in her best attires; after, she will be dismissed "till doomsday"
(V.ii.231). The arrival of the Clown fixes her resolution: "he brings me liberty;
/My resolution's placed, and I have nothin/Of woman in me" (236-238).

The moment the unlikely pair begin their forty-odd lines of conversation, the
level of style drops suddenly from the most lofty to the most rural and down-to-
earth; it is more than a shift from verse to prose, it is a shift in vocabulary,
attitude, and mindset, in which Cleopatra takes part. The actual effect of the shift
on the audience is a heightening of awareness of Cleopatra's personal, human
tragedy.

The Clown has no awe of the Queen; he talks to her as if she were on his own
level, and, gregarious and talkative as he is, he has trouble understanding that she
wants to be rid of him. In view of Cleopatra's "immortal longings" (280) later,
the Clown's malapropism is a revealing one. The snake's bite is "immortal:
those that do die of it, do seldom or never recover" (246-247). Cleopatra's
feigned death that brings about Antony's suicide is also subject to comment, as
the Clown knows of a "very honest woman" who gave "a very good report" of
the snake after her death from its bite, though this woman was "something given
to lie" (250-254). There is also a harking back to Act I, scene v, where
Cleopatra longs to be reunited with Antony, and remembers him calling her "my
serpent of old Nile" (I.v.25). Like a serpent, she has indeed caused his death,
though Antony had much "joy of the worm" (V.ii.259, 278). The Clown also
reminds the audience that the snake does only what it has to do according to its
nature, but that it cannot be trusted. This seems to express his attitude to women
in general as well. They may be divine creatures, but half of them are marred by
the devil. The remarks on women echo back in the play also, to the split
between Octavia and Cleopatra. Not everybody in the audience will catch all
these allusions, but in a play as well structured as this, with word images
emphatically stressed and repetitions so ingeniously made, it should be
surprising if some of it would not be at least passively caught and understood,
especially if the Clown addresses his speeches partly to the audience. Though
these few lines of the Clown's are amusing and draw laughter from the audience
on more than one occasion, they also serve to place Cleopatra in a more
understandable context. The discrepancy between the Queen and the Clown serves
the purpose of strengthening and augmenting the audience's perception of the
fundamental humanity of Cleopatra's character.

During their short conversation, the Clown provides a running commentary on
Cleopatra, her relationship with Antony, her longing for everlasting fame, and

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