THIDIAS         [To Cleopatra] Thus, then, thou most renowned: Caesar entreats

Not to consider in what case thou stand’st

Further than he is Caesar.

CLEOPATRA              Go on; right royal.

THIDIAS         He knows that you embraced not Antony

As you did love, but as you feared him.

CLEOPATRA                          O.

THIDIAS         The scars upon your honour therefore he

Does pity as constrained blemishes,

Not as deserved.

CLEOPATRA              He is a god, and knows

What is most right. Mine honour was not yielded,

But conquered merely.

ENOBARBUS              [aside] To be sure of that

I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou art so leaky

That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for

Thy dearest quit thee.

Exit Enobarbus                       (3.13.52-64)

 

Having managed—at least temporarily—to shut Enobarbus up, and having got Cleopatra’s attention, Thidias can be Mr. Smooth, and get on with his mission. Now he’s polite, courteous, ingratiating, and most of all, reassuring: thus, then, thou most renowned. This is the situation, madam. To business. Caesar entreats not to consider in what case thou stand’st further than he is Caesar. You’ve got nothing to worry about; don’t fret about the situation you’re in because, ultimately, what matters is that it’s Caesar you’re dealing with, and he’ll look after you. Go on, she replies—intrigued? puzzled, amused by the flattery, the obsequiousness? Tell me more; right royal. This is all very nice, very decent, princely even. What Thidias comes out with next is audacious, unexpected. Caesar knows that you embraced not Antony as you did love, but as you feared him. You were never in love with Antony; you were only with him out of fear. It wasn’t your choice to sleep with him. (There’s perhaps a sense of coercion, maybe even sexual violence.) If Charmian, Iras or even Enobarbus can hear, they might look incredulous. Cleopatra’s surely too canny to over-react, to give too much away immediately Is this an insult, an impossibility? Does even Thidias tacitly acknowledge that this is a fiction? But what he’s setting out, what he’s going to offer her is a way out; making Antony look bad is a bonus. O is all that Cleopatra can say, perhaps buying time, perhaps amazed at this turn of events, the audacity of this approach—but at the same time, racing ahead to understand what’s going on, to weigh it up as a possible way out–or perhaps even thinking, yes, perhaps that’s how it was, how it is. Thidias continues, pressing on: the scars upon your honour therefore he does pity as constrained blemishes, not as deserved. Cleopatra doesn’t want to be pitied, ever, and she doesn’t ever really think of herself as having been dishonoured, but sympathy—that’s unexpected, unusual, and perhaps not unwelcome. She’s used to being blamed for everything and here, apparently, Caesar is saying don’t worry, we don’t think badly of you! we don’t think of you as being at fault in this; we don’t think of you as a Bad Woman, as damaged goods. Antony made you do it! He’s the one who’s at fault, he took advantage of you. You’re the injured party here. Cleopatra may not care much about questions of honour, but she always responds to flattery, sympathy, the cossetting of her ego and the soothing of her vulnerability. She could respond with some irony, but also a kind of eagerness: someone understands me! it’s not my fault! Caesar is a god, as wise as he is powerful, and knows what is most right. That’s it exactly! Mine honour was not yielded, but conquered merely. Does she mean it, does she believe her own words, even a little? I didn’t give myself to Antony willingly—he compelled me, he made me; he forced me, even. I had no choice; I’m the victim here. Enobarbus is—incredulous? disgusted? or simply wearily cynical? To be sure of that, I will ask Antony. Let’s see what he has to say about that. And then he speaks, as if Antony were there: sir, sir, thou art so leaky that we must leave thee to thy sinking, for thy dearest quit thee. It’s looking bad: they’re deserting you in droves—the rats. If it’s got to this, we’ll have to abandon you to your fate, because even your most beloved, your Cleopatra sounds like she’s about to walk out on you.