The End of Cleo, Page 2

without wine, Charmion! My heart was afire – and so was that other part of me in a lower region. It was all I could do to stay on my seat atop that shinx.

  CHARMION: I didn't notice any of that. I was dancing at the head of the procession, showing those Roman men how the Egyptian salsa was done – and making the front of their tunics tent out, I might add. May the gods be praised that not all Italian men are like that pederast, Octavius.

  CLEOPATRA: Yes, I saw you. With that python skin wrapped round you, and nothing else. Flaunting your wares and drawing stares. Disgraceful! You behaved as if your were in a bazaar where every male was panting to buy.

  CHARMION: Oh, but they did buy, Your Majesty! Only they all wanted to pay me in sesterces. I wouldn't accept their worthless currency and demanded payment in rubies and pearls instead. I also asked for mink and chinchilla but those Roman nincompoops said they didn't have those items on their menus. Such ignoramuses!

  CLEOPATRA: You were smart to insist on payment in goods and not cash! The economy of Rome was heading for the sewers. Octavius had to do something drastic or his countrymen would have to sell their wives and daughters to the northern barbarians to put food on the table. Hell, they'd sell their mothers if they had to! That was the reason for the sea-battle off Actium. That, and no other. It was a battle for plunder. They declared hostilities on us because they were broke – and they WON! They won – and my Lord Antony could not live down the shame of defeat. Now he lies on the floor, dead meat stinking to the skies and gathering flies. And Octavius wants to drag ME, like a prize heifer, through the streets of Rome. If that Italian son-of-a-two-penny-tart thinks that'll ever happen, his brains are lodged in his rectum!

  CHARMION: Dearie me! You won't run away and you won't be taken to Rome a second time. Then I suppose there's no alternative but for you but to get acquainted with this little fellow here under the figs. And I can think about slitting my – do you think it'll hurt a lot, Your Majesty? I can't stand pain or the sight of blood.

  CLEOPATRA: Don't be such a ninny, Charmion. You're the handmaiden of Cleopatra, for Ra's sake! You have to conduct yourself with dignity! Oh, if only Caesar were still alive. If only they hadn't carved him up like a leg of mutton in the Senate. Everything wouldn't be in such a mess – and I wouldn't have to take a trip to that vacation resort where all my ancestors have gone.

  CHARMION: If the Lord Caesar were still alive, the Lord Antony would not be lying here on the floor, as dead as a skewered pig.

  CLEOPATRA: Why, yes, you're right I suppose ... and I would never have known the joy of having Antony in my bed. Oh, how that bull could butt! But if Caesar were still living I'd be queen of both Egypt AND the Roman Empire!

  CHARMION: Isn't one queenship good enough for you, Your Majesty?

  CLEOPATRA: Enough is never enough, Charmion. Not when you're Cleopatra, Serpent of the Nile.

  CHARMION: Majesty, this is somewhat personal, but if I may ask –

  CLEOPATRA: Ask away, honey. I won't be around much longer to answer your questions, Amon knows. Like the song says, it's now or never.

  CHARMION: Song? What song?

  CLEOPATRA: Huh? Oh, it's just a whim. I sort of like the phrase, and I thought it might be a good title for a song. What were you going to ask me?

  CHARMION: Aaah ... I don't know if I should. Like I said, it's somewhat personal.

  CLEOPATRA: Even if it is, I can see you're dying of curiosity. Since we're both about to die anyway, what have I got to keep from you? Ask away. You'll never get another chance.

  CHARMION: Well. Majesty, of the two of them – I mean, the Lord Caesar and the Lord Antony – who was the better one in bed?

  CLEOPATRA: Who, indeed! What a question! Why, my Lord Antony was a stallion! A stallion with a difference. That steed was not ridden. It did the riding. The power of his loins was matchless! There was no one like him – but NO ONE! He was the ONLY man who could bring Cleopatra to her knees – and stop her protests with a mouthful of – oh, I really must look upon it again!

  CHARMION: What, his face?

  CLEOPATRA: No, no, not his face! Not with his jaws hanging open like that of a dead crocodile and all those flies. I want to look at his weapon – his thing – oh, you know what I mean!

  CHARMION: Oh, Majesty! You're always so prissy! If you mean his obelisk, why don't you say so? There! Look upon it for the last time!

  CLEOPATRA: By the phallus of Horus! By the penis of Osiris! What happened to my Lord Antony's pizzle? It looks like – like a roll of old parchment!

  CHARMION: Well, it's been three days since its owner croaked. What do you expect? That it would still resemble a juicy hotdog? Would you like to touch it – for old times' sake? Just don't expect any twitch in response, that's all.

  CLEOPATRA: Touch it! Good grief, no! Cover it up, cover it up! I can't even bear to look upon it any more!

  CHARMION: I told you it wasn't worth your while to take another peek.

  CLEOPATRA: To think, Charmion, to think how much pleasure that thing once gave me! And now look at it! No better than the leftovers from a dog's dinner! Aaah, the tragedy of it! The crueIty of fate and the mockery of life! I can't bear to think of all that's befallen me! I could die!

  CHARMION: And you soon will, Your Majesty. At least you won't be disappointed as far as that's concerned. Rest assured on that score.

  CLEOPATRA: Will you stop reminding me that my life will soon end, you heartless bitch?

  CHARMION: Majesty! It's what you yourself opt for! But let's not talk about dying. I'd rather hear about your sex life. So, I take it the Lord Caesar was inferior in the bed-chamber, compared to the Lord Antony?

  CLEOPATRA: Inferior! There was no basis for comparison at all! Caesar was laughable! He was pathetic! He was a capon! When we were alone I used to call him Julia Caesar. He said he much preferred Julio, but I stuck to Julia. How he used to simper and mince whenever I called him by that name. Did you know he often borrowed my underwear?

  CHARMION: He borrowed your WHAT?

  CLEOPATRA: My under-things! He especially loved that brassiere with the five hundred seed pearls stitched on the cups. He wore it under his tunic during my coronation. No one but I knew of it.

  CHARMION: Majesty, your stagger me! Do you mean to tell me the Lord Caesar was a – was a –

  CLEOPATRA: On the battlefield Caesar was a king. In the tents of the soldiers, Caesar was a queen. He liked the muscular ones in their thirties, with plenty of body-hair. So do I – but then, I'm a woman!

  CHARMION: Well, well, well! Who would have DREAMED –

  CLEOPATRA: It was no dream – it was a nightmare! Each time he entered me, he made me enter him too – with my forefinger! Otherwise his pleasure was not complete! The things that worm made me put up with. He made my skin crawl each time he touched me! And remember that old fart could have been my grandfather when I first met him. Sometimes when his tool couldn't rise to the occasion, he used his finger on me! And I had to moan and groan and pretend I had skipped over the rainbow and landed on cloud-number-nine!

  CHARMION: But why didn't you kick him out of your bed if he revolted you so much?

  CLEOPATRA: Because only HE could place the double-crown of Egypt upon my head, that's why. You didn't think I suffered his embraces because I enjoyed administering anal probes with my bare finger, did you?

  CHARMION: Ugh! What you tell me makes me sick to my stomach, Your Majesty! I'm so glad the Lord Caesar never asked me to share his couch.

  CLEOPATRA: If he did, you'd have to give your finger a mighty good wash the next morning. The old reprobate couldn't get his up unless something else was up his fundaments. Once, when he was on top of me, he made one of my Nubian slaves go on top of him! A bull of a man with a dong that gave a mighty deep prong! How Caesar squealed and begged for punishment. It was all I could do not to puke in his face.To tell the truth, though, the back-door variety can be quite – enjoyable. My Lord Antony was very fond of it – especially when he'd had one cup too many. But unlike
that fruit-cake Caesar, he didn't use his finger.

  CHARMION: No indeed. He preferred to use something considerably bigger. I used to – OOPS!

  CLEOPATRA: You used to WHAT? Out with it!

  CHARMION: Nothing, it's nothing. I was just imagining –

  CLEOPATRA: And I'M just imagining you let my Lord Antony hump you! You did, didn't you, you shameless hussy?

  CHARMION: Majesty, what could I have done, a miserable slave like me? The Lord Antony insisted!

  CLEOPATRA: And you were quite ready to give in, I'll bet, you trollop! If I weren't getting ready to die, I'd snatch you bald!

  CHARMION: Your Highness, this – this womanly jealousy does not become you.

  CLEOPATRA: Don't you DARE presume to tell me what becomes me, and what doesn't! You KNEW how special the Lord Antony was to me, but that didn't stop you from digging your finger into the pie when my back was turned.

  CHARMION: You've got it wrong-side up. He was the one who dug into my pie – and he didn't use his finger either.

  CLEOPATRA: Silence, tramp! Don't you try to play around with words! Your sluttish stand-up comedy may amuse others but it turns my stomach! Nothing you say will change the fact that you fooled around with my man behind my back!

  CHARMION: O Majesty, surely you don't hold that against me? I've served you faithfully all my life. And if you're thinking of offering me violence, remember I have this little champion under the figs. I think he's dying to make your