MENAS           [aside] Thy father, Pompey, would ne’re have made this treaty.

[To Enobarbus]

You and I have known, sir.

ENOBARBUS  At sea, I think.

MENAS           We have, sir.

ENOBARBUS  You have done well by water.

MENAS           And you by land.

ENOBARBUS  I will praise any man that will praise me, though it cannot be denied what I have done by land.

MENAS           Nor what I have done by water.

ENOBARBUS  Yes, something you can deny for your own safety. You have been a great thief by sea.

MENAS           And you by land.

ENOBARBUS  There I deny my land service; but give me your hand, Menas.  (2.6.84-97)

Menas hasn’t been involved in the conversation thus far; Pompey’s most significant ally and backer, he’s been watching and listening while Pompey has apparently made peace with his foes. Now he’s going to respond, in conversation with the always interesting Enobarbus, having first, in an aside to Pompey’s disappearing back, expressed his disappointment: thy father, Pompey, would ne’re have made this treaty. For all that you trade on his name and reputation, you’ve sold out, boy, let all of us down, let him down and yourself down. I hope you know what you’re doing. But Menas is canny, he’s not going to reveal his next move until he has a bit more information—and so he and Enobarbus circle each other, seeing how they can best establish a mutually beneficial back-channel relationship, fill in the gaps of the official discourse now that the generals are off having a drink. (It’s a version of the status games that have played out in the first part of the scene.) You and I have known, sir. We’ve met before, haven’t we? At sea, I think, says Enobarbus, leaving it implicit that he means not in a naval battle but rather in a skirmish between Roman forces and pirates, because Menas is a pirate. We have, sir, Menas replies, not giving much away. Guarded. They both know they’ve fought against each other in the past; they’re circling each other—just as the leaders have—sizing each other up, working out their relative status and whether they can work together, be useful to each other. You have done well by water, concedes Enobarbus, not simply in the sense of victories, perhaps, but also done well for yourself, become wealthy by your maritime exploits. And you by land—bit of a concession, and also (perhaps unexpectedly to the audience) establishing that Enobarbus has a reputation as a soldier. Characteristically Enobarbus turns it into a bit of a joke, this trading of guarded, stiffly-phrased compliments: I will praise any man that will praise me, though it cannot be denied what I have done by land. Yes, OK, he says, I may have a bit of a reputation, it can’t be denied—and also, what I’ve done by land, my achievements on the battlefield, doesn’t have to be denied, because I’m not an actual pirate. Menas gets it, pushes back a bit: I’m not going to deny what I have done by water either. Happy to own my reputation. Yes, something you can deny for your own safety, suggests Enobarbus, because—now he names it, now he’s more comfortable with the sort of man he’s dealing with—you have been a great thief by sea. Pirate. And you by land, suggests Menas, you wheeler-dealer, you opportunist—even thief? There I deny my land-service, retorts Enobarbus, not quite in the same league as you, mate—but give me your hand, Menas. We’re on the same page, let’s get down to business.