MESSENGER Madam, he’s well.
CLEOPATRA Well said.
MESSENGER And friends with Caesar.
CLEOPATRA Thou’rt an honest man.
MESSENGER Caesar and he are greater friends than ever.
CLEOPATRA Make thee a fortune from me.
MESSENGER But yet, madam—
CLEOPATRA I do not like ‘But yet’, it does allay
The good precedence. Fie upon ‘But yet’.
‘But yet’ is as a jailer to bring forth
Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend,
Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear,
The good and bad together. He’s friends with Caesar,
In state of health, thou sayst; and, thou sayst, free. (2.5.46-56)
The messenger is finally able to begin, cautiously, incrementally, watching for a reaction after every fresh installment. Madam, he’s well. Good, baseline. Cleopatra’s prepared to be magnanimous, even playful: well said, she quibbles back. And friends with Caesar, that’s the next bit. Good good, thou art an honest man, you’re a gent. Now the messenger begins to tread more warily: Caesar and he are greater friends than ever. (The early modern sense of friends here is crucial, friends as relations, family members. The messenger is speaking truthfully, but there’s a helpful double meaning in it.) But Cleopatra continues blithely untroubled by this carefully loaded restatement: make thee a fortune from me; perhaps she signals for him to be given more gold. But yet, madam… He can’t string it out much longer, he’s got to get to the difficult truth—and Cleopatra’s on it, sensing trouble straight away. I do not like ‘But yet’, it does allay the good precedence. It threatens to negate all the good things you’ve just been telling me. Fie upon ‘but yet’, damn it. It rattles me. ‘But yet’ is as a jailer to bring forth some monstrous malefactor; it’s like a guard opening the door for a terrible criminal, a monster, opening the floodgates. Nothing good can follow ‘but yet’. So, spit it out. Tell me everything, get it over with. Finally, she just needs to know, and she’s quite conciliatory: prithee, friend, pour out the pack of matter to mine ear, the good and bad together. Be like a pedlar who simply upends his bundle, tipping all the contents out in a heap, rather than drawing out his wares one by one. Let’s recap, she says, let’s make sure we’re on the same page. Antony’s friends with Caesar, yes? In state of health, perfectly well, thou sayst; and, thou sayst, free.
Ah.