OCTAVIA Good my lord,
To come thus was I not constrained, but did it
On my free will. My lord, Mark Antony,
Hearing that you prepared for war, acquainted
My grieved ear withal, whereon I begged
His pardon for return.
CAESAR Which soon he granted,
Being an obstruct ’tween his lust and him.
OCTAVIA Do not say so, my lord.
CAESAR I have eyes upon him,
And his affairs come to me on the wind. (3.6.55-63)
Octavia is not going to be pushed around, or made to conform immediately to her brother’s interpretation of the situation: good my lord, to come thus was I not constrained, but did it on my own free will. I’m here, and like this—without much fanfare—because it’s my choice, and my own initiative. No one’s making me do this! (So don’t you start.) My lord, Mark Antony (and he is still her lord, her husband; the phrasing is both correct and deliberate), hearing that you prepared for war, acquainted my grieved ear withal, whereon I begged his pardon for return. When Antony heard about your military preparations—and your sabre-rattling—he shared the news with me and I was, understandably, upset. By your actions! You’ve caused me pain, brother. And so I begged him to allow me to come to you, to see what might be done to make peace.
Yeah yeah, says Caesar, in effect; he soon granted you permission to do just that, because it got you out of the way. Very convenient; you’re nothing more than an obstruct ’tween his lust and him. Now he can do what he likes—which is to follow his desires, and go back to his old ways. It’s nothing to do with strategy or politics, or with him being a supportive husband. It’s lust! (Caesar loathes, despises, is obsessed.) Do not say so, my lord. Is that Octavia making an objection on the grounds of fact—how dare you? or because she hasn’t thought of this and it immediately causes her pain? or because she now realises she’s been played for a fool? Octavia is complex, not a ninny, not an innocent. (She can be played that way, Antony’s dupe, Caesar’s pawn, but I think it impoverishes the character, closes down options.) She’s acted, perhaps, out of political savviness; now she realises that not everyone shares her pragmatism and high-mindedness. The sexual (and emotional) betrayal which Caesar is about to describe is only part of that. Oh, I have eyes upon him, says Caesar, master of messengers, spies in every camp and great house, and his affairs come to me on the wind. I’ve had Antony watched constantly (and you too, therefore, is implicit); he can’t do anything without me knowing about it, a constant stream of intel, whispers, rumours, and the results of round-the-clock surveillance. Shades of Polonius and Claudius to Ophelia (although Octavia is no Ophelia) when they tell her that there’s no need to relay what Hamlet said because they heard it all anyway. A humiliation.