In Act I of Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra, the Queen of Egypt, sweetly torturing herself with thoughts of her absent lover, implores Antony to

Along with Philo's disgusted observation as the play opens that Antony's formerly martial eyes “now turn/The office and devotion of their view/Upon a tawny front,” (1.1.4–6) Cleopatra's self-definition as “black” suggests that whatever the color of her skin, it is different from that of the Romans. Elsewhere, however, this same Cleopatra refers to the “bluest veins” (2.5.29) in the hand she offers the messenger who brings her news of Antony's marriage to kiss. The play demonstrates a certain indecision about the color of Cleopatra's skin, about this color's relationship to her race, and even about what her race might actually be; Philo disgustedly refers to how Antony's great “Captaines heart” has now become nothing more than “the bellows and the fan/To cool a gipsy's lust,” (1.1.9–10) for example. But except for an appendix in Janet Adelman's 1973 study of Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra, sustained critical attention to the apparently open question of the color and race of Shakespeare's Cleopatra has been rare. Indeed, recent editor Michael Neill declares in his thoughtful discussion of the play that “the issue of racial difference in Antony and Cleopatra” is “relatively insignificant … the stereotypes involved are the product of Roman perception; and while the Roman view is given a strategic advantage … it scarcely goes unchallenged.”