MAECENAS                Welcome, dear madam.

Each heart in Rome does love and pity you.

Only th’adulterous Antony, most large

In his abominations, turns you off,

And gives his potent regiment to a trull

That noises it against us.

OCTAVIA                    Is it so, sir?

CAESAR          Most certain. Sister, welcome. Pray you

Be ever known to patience. My dear’st sister!

Exeunt (3.6.91-98)

Maecenas is clumsy and censorious in his contributions, far more so than Caesar. His heart is in the right place—probably?—but mostly he wants to prove his loyalty to Caesar; being nice to Octavia and especially slagging off Antony is the best way to do this. Welcome, dear madam (and he should leave it at that); each heart in Rome does love and pity you. We’re all on your side, hun! (Or, leave it there; maybe she doesn’t want pity, even. But no.) Only th’adulterous Antony (thanks, Maecenas, spell it out), most large in his abominations (not helpful, pointing out how flagrant in his infidelity Antony is being, and how perverse in his sexual behaviour too, is the implication)—he’s the one that turns you off. This isn’t the opposite of turns you on, alas; rather, Maecenas is saying, with foot firmly in mouth, that it’s only Antony dumping you, girl; we’re all here for you! (Alas turns you off is also the idiom used to describe the hangman, as he pushes the condemned off the ladder at the gallows.) Antony’s the one who’s giving his potent regiment (don’t use potent in this context, Maecenas, it’s got unfortunate implications at least to modern ears; you only mean that he’s handed over his power and authority, his rule) to a trull—an absolute slut! a whore! a trollop!—that noises it against us. Oh, she’s crowing alright, Cleopatra, bragging about having him under the thumb, stirring up trouble. Is it so, sir? is Octavia’s faint response—or else there could, conversely, be a note of challenge here, implicit reproach to Maecenas for his indelicacy. Go on, say all that again, I dare you. Octavia’s a canny politician: yes, she might still be loyal to Antony, at least residually, in this moment, but she recognises too that she might, down the road, be asked to rekindle the marriage, return to him in the name of political pragmatism if the situation changes, if Caesar’s calculus of power undergoes another shift. Most certain—Caesar answers for Maecenas, brusquely, closing down this unfortunate shift in tone (or else confirming, in sorrow and in anger). Sister, welcome. Pray you be ever known to patience. Bear up, chin up, shut up. My dear’st sister! (And there can be passionate concern and brotherly tenderness in that, absolutely—but also it can be awkward, moving right along, let’s get indoors and stop hashing this out in public.)