The sides o’ the world may danger.
(I. ii. 198.)
In Plutarch it is not prudence but courtesy that moves the Triumvirs to negociate with him. His hospitality to Antony’s mother is expressly mentioned as the cause of their leniency; “therefore they thought good to make peace with him.” Similarly Shakespeare may have warrant from Appian, but he certainly has not warrant from Plutarch, to represent Octavius as listening in dismay to reports of malcontents “that only have fear’d Caesar” (i. iv. 38) crowding to Pompey’s banners from love of him; or as harassed by Antony’s absence, when this occasion “drums him from his sport” (i. iv. 29); or as driven by fear of Pompey to “cement their divisions and bind up the petty difference” (ii. i. 48). In all these ways Shakespeare treats the trifling disturbance of Plutarch’s account as a civil war waged by not unequal forces. And even after the tension has been somewhat relieved by Antony’s arrival, Octavius bears witness in regard to Pompey’s strength by land that it is
Great and increasing: but by sea
He is an absolute master.
(II. ii. 165.)
Obviously then Shakespeare conceives Pompey as having much to hope for, and much to lose. But Pompey does not realise his own power. By the treaty he throws away his advantages. In the division of the world he only gets Sicily and Sardinia, which were his already; and in return he must rid all the sea of pirates, and send wheat to Rome. By the first provision he deprives himself of recruits like Menas and Menecrates; by the second, he caters for his scarce atoned enemies. Surely there is justification for Menas’ aside: “Thy father, Pompey, would ne’er have made this treaty” (ii. vi. 84), and his like remark to Enobarbus: “Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune” (ii. vi. 109). He practically gives over the contest which he has a fair prospect of winning, and allows himself to be cajoled of the means by which he might at least gain security and power. But the most that he obtains is a paper guarantee for a fraction of the spoils; though he ought to have known that such guarantees are rotten bands with rivals like Octavius, who will only wait the opportunity, that must now inevitably come, to set them aside.
But besides, this magnanimity, which he is so fond of parading, is not only insufficient, even were it quite sterling coin; in his case it rings counterfeit. We cannot forget that his noble sentiments about justice are uttered to Menas and Menecrates, “great thieves by sea.” Is Pompeius Magnus to be avenged, is freedom to be restored by the help of buccaneers who find it expedient to “deny” what they have done by water? Surely all this is not very dexterous make-believe, intended to impose on others or himself. Even his rejection of Menas’ scheme for doing away with the Triumvirs, though it shows his regard for appearances, does not imply any honourable feeling of the highest kind. For listen to his words:
Ah, this thou should’st have done,
And not have spoke on’t! In me, ’tis villany;