CHARMIAN A proper man.
CLEOPATRA Indeed he is so. I repent me much
That so I harried him. Why, methinks, by him,
This creature’s no such thing.
CHARMIAN Nothing, madam.
CLEOPATRA The man hath seen some majesty, and should know.
CHARMIAN Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend,
And serving you so long!
CLEOPATRA I have one thing more to ask him yet, good Charmian.
But ’tis no matter. Thou shalt bring him to me
Where I will write. All may be well enough.
CHARMIAN I warrant you, madam.
Exeunt (3.3.37-47)
A proper man, says Charmian, approvingly and reassuringly: he’s trustworthy and reliable, an excellent servant and emissary. She wants Cleopatra to be as calm and pragmatic as possible about Octavia, to believe that all will turn out for the best. Cleopatra wants to agree too: indeed he is so. And—it’ll get a laugh—I repent me much that so I harried him. I’m sorry I gave him such a hard time. (Sorry not sorry really. But Cleopatra always enjoys the opportunity to be magnanimous, to reclaim the moral high ground.) She reassures herself again, and in so doing confirms her ongoing anxious insecurity: why, methinks by him, from everything he’s just been saying, this creature’s no such thing. Creature’s mildly pejorative, not least because saying Octavia would scan just as well as this creature; there’s perhaps a mild, superstitious reluctance to name Octavia again, or a further obvious dismissal in not bothering to. She’s no such thing, nothing special, clearly; she’s not all that! Nothing, madam. Absolutely. Nothing to worry about, Charmian reassures, once again. But Cleopatra keeps worrying away at it, with her confidence shaking a little more with every reiteration of her supreme unconcern. After all, the man hath seen some majesty and should know. He knows what a truly great woman—a queen!—looks like, acts like, speaks like, because he’s been my servant long enough. Hath he seen majesty? Hell yes, he certainly has; Isis else defend, may she forbid him ever saying otherwise, given that yes, he’s been serving you so long. (Love Charmian. She’s not just a yes woman, she’s not above rolling her eyes at Cleopatra’s excesses and her neediness—but she knows her so well, even when she mocks and teases. She’s there, saying the right things.) And so Cleopatra can show her enduring vulnerability: I have one thing more to ask him yet, good Charmian. But ’tis no matter. Thou shalt bring him to me where I will write. That one thing, of course, isn’t specified, and Cleopatra can’t bring herself to articulate it, even to her faithful Charmian. She will write it, in yet another of her letters to Antony. But it could be, do you love her? And, do you still love me, and love me more than her? All may be well enough. This could still turn out alright, Charmian, couldn’t it? Please say it could. Charmian’s right there, of course she is: I warrant you, madam. All will be well. Trust me.