If any spirit breathes within this round,
Uncapable of waightie passion
(As from his birth, being hugged in the armes,
And nuzzled twixt the breastes of happinesse)
Who winkes, and shuts his apprehension up
From common sense of what men were, and are,
Who would not knowe what men must be; let such
Hurrie amaine from our black visag'd showes.
(Marston's Prologue to Antonio's Revenge)
Here, in synthesis, we have the character of Seleucus in Rodogune . He comes into the play with certain fixed preconceptions :
(1) a hope for the durability and abiding supremacy of amitie fraternelle ,
(2) a love for Rodogune which, on the evidence, is equal to Antiochus's love for her ,
(3) a cold detachment from, and little belief in, la foi d'une mere .
Physically he may leave the play in Act V, 4, but in terms of of the audience's capacity to assess the development of his character and motives, he leaves the play in Act IV, 6. In that climactic exchange with Cleopatre, Seleucus underlines his determination to have nothing to do with l'amour or le diademe. There is dramatic irony in this, for we are aware of both his renunciation and the earlier beau dessein.
Seleucus gives us a skilled performance here in the art of dialectic. He even evidences a belated respect (1471). But these are parting shots arising from a confidence that in turn stems from his decision to extinguish ma flamme et mon ambition (1086). So this last scene is just a reiteration of what Seleucus has decided upon before. Our understanding of his character stops short there. And we are left with the preceding action in which to ascertain the contribution Seleucus makes to the complete whole of Rodogune .
What, then, is his contribution ? G. Brereton (Tragedy) has this to say about tragedy :
Tragedy will not flourish in areas either of strong faith or of strong scepticism....The field of tragedy lies between these two.
Seleucus evidences elements of scepticism from the start. He anticipates the day's events as being fatale a l'heure de notre vie (155), or l'evenement funeste (188). He has little confidence in la foi d'une mere (183). Neither does he have any basis for confidence in les doux noeuds, for he is obliged to expend his energies in shoring up an amitie fraternelle that is coming apart before his eyes. In Act I, 2, Antiochus first describes his fears and hopes--le sceptre and Rodogune. In contrast, Seleucus's first fear is for les doux noeuds. With an eye for les temoins--Timagene and Laonice [the nominal Chorus]--Antiochus comes out with an admirable statement about un frere (144), whereas, in line 146, Seleucus's riposte is concerned with vous, i.e. Antiochus talks in abstracts ; his brother is more directly and naturally personal, but with the plain distancing of vous rather than tu.
Antiochus, in balancing the merits of amour and amitie , describes the latter as an objet de pitie (150), and a few lines later describes love as un digne objet (qui) a pu nous enflammer . With all of this in mind, it is little wonder that the frustrated Seleucus uses the sing-song Ainsi...Ainsi (125+6, 195+7) in an attempt to merge their mutual destin , bonheur and amitie in some concept of brotherly unity. (There may even be a subtle psychological motivation in the repetition, in that they are twins.)
Seleuchus is abhorred, first by the conditions laid down by Cleopatre vis-a-vis Rodogune, and then by the latter's conditions. These proposals appear to back up his original fears about l'evenement funeste . Throughout, Seleucus subsumes ambition beneath the concept of what one might call 'La Grande Amitie'. In line 748 he sees a united front as the basis for a revolt, for rule, and for l'unique moyen de sauver la Princesse. In ll.1081-92, Seleucus makes a final attempt to get Antiochus to agree to a joint rejection of the querelles of the women, but Antiochus espere encore un peu, so Seleucus resigns the field. To return, then, to Brereton's statement, I think it is clear that Seleucus has been sceptical throughout, and events have only added to his scepticism.
Brereton continues :
The method by which the tragic investigation is conducted in drama and other literary forms is to put forward the tragic hero as an exploratory agent--the conscious exploration is undertaken by the spectators.
I earlier mentioned the three preconceptions with which Seleucus entered on the play. Despite the fact that each has been somewhat buffeted by its recipient--Antiochus, Rodogune, or Cleopatre--I would suggest that just before the renunciation in Act III, 5, Seleucus still holds to these preconceptions : he still loves his brother and Rodogune ; he still mistrusts his mother. He has changed little. As an 'exploratory agent' he serves a purpose in pointing up the fluctuations of the three others, by contrast. More importantly, the spectators have had little opportunity to 'explore' him, because of his very immutability. Furthermore, his 'agency' ends before the cataclysmic final act. In short, his 'exploratory' purpose is relative, not complete.
Now to the wider concept of tragedy, with reference to Rodogune . Later on it will be shown that Cleopatre is the true tragic hero of the play. However, at the moment it should be indicated that there are tragic elements in the characterisation of Seleucus, that he is a tragic hero of sorts, but that, in terms of the play as a whole, Cleopatre is the true one.
In Chapter 6 of his Ars Poetica , Aristotle says that the two most important means by which tragedy plays on our feelings, that is, reversals (peripeteia) and recognitions (anagnorisis), are both constituents of the plot. Another element is hamartia : an error of judgment, weakness or failing, which allows disaster in. F.Lucas (Tragedy) describes these three elements thus :
The essence, then, of Aristotle's theory of the tragic plot is this. At its best, tragedy is the story of human blindness leading human effort to checkmate itself--a Tragedy of Error. The'hamartia' is the Tragic Error' ; the 'peripeteia' is its fatal working to a result the opposite of that intended ; the 'anagnorisis' , the realisation of the truth.
And later on :
Anagnorisis : A Discovery is, as the very word implies, a change from ignorance to knowledge, and thus to either love or hatred between persons destined for good or ill fortune.
In considering Seleucus's relationship with Rodogune, one could argue a case that his 'hamartia' revolves round the trust he has in her good nature. Then, having formed a beau dessein with her in mind, he experiences 'peripeteia' when that trust is reversed by Rodogune's conditions. But, even allowing this slender hypothesis, there is no 'anagnorisis' involving a change to either love or hatred between them. Though he may pale at Rodogune's conditions, he does not turn to hatred. Even after his renunciation, he continues to love her (1406-7).
With regard to Seleucus's relationship with Antiochus, there is no final 'anagnorisis', although I believe there is in Seleucus an inherent weakness : his belief in the amitie fraternelle. His error is in not seeing that Antiochus regards the amitie as a restricting factor (147).
A point that C.Leech (Tragedy) makes about 'anagnorisis' is, I think, relevant here :
To see things plain--that is 'anagnorisis', and it is the ultimate experience we shall have if we have leisure at the point of death. It is what tragedy is ultimately about : the realisation of the unthinkable. The sense of the final experience has its special acuteness : it is, after all, the last moment of consciousness.
With this in mind, one can consider Seleucus's relationship with Cleopatre. It will be shown later that Cleopatre's 'hamartia' is that she favours an unbending raison d'etat approach to life which has no value for personal matters--amour, amitie and her own maternal feelings, however subdued--if they will not fit into her 'grand design' concept. It is an irony of circumstance that Seleucus's parting duel with his mother takes place directly after a scene in which Cleopatre said : Je ne veux plus que moi dedans ma confidence.
In this parting scene, then, Seleucus is rather confident. His grounds for this mood are that since he has renounced diadem and Rodogune, he probably feels that he has nothing more to be concerned with. He may too have misjudged the extent to which his mother would go, at the crunch. She is, after all, still the supreme power, and I think he overlooks these matters as he begins to hammer away with a few home truths. He pushes further with a succession of questions (1457-62) which indicate that he has seen through her character, but he then is less forceful at ll.1469-70. In line 1493 of the next scene, Cleopatre indicates clearly that Seleucus had passed from ignorance to knowledge, had experienced 'anagnorisis'. But thus to 'either love or hatred' ? Since he certainly harboured mistrust for Cleopatre before, its counterpart could then be that belated respect (1471). His dying utterance would then be an affirmation of this knowledge to which he has passed.
In discussing Hamlet , Brereton makes the point that Hamlet's immediate reaction is the same as of other tragic heroes at the moment of recognition. He utters a speech of wild and whirling words . This could, then, apply to the flurry of questions (1457-62) which Seleucus hurls at Cleopatre. And Brereton again : Not being a passive victim, the tragic hero will make an attempt to avoid the dangers which surround him. Owing to some uncalculated factor, the attempt fails and he comes to disaster. Well, is Seleucus a passive victim or not ? His fatalistic attitude to the jour fatal seems to me to imply that he has a basically passive nature. His attempts at shoring up the amitie seem to be a case of defending, of 'holding what we have', and this implies an antipathy against the action and hurly-burly of change. Even his beau dessein--which has an all or nothing flavour to it--suggests an unwillingness to actively engage further the sympathies of Rodogune or to actively urge Cleopatre to divulge the droit d'ainesse. The straight win-or-lose concept, by its very nature, reduces active participation. One could argue that he did actively seek a continuance of amitie, urge the beau dessein, and that the brothers should leave the women to their querelles. In this consideration, then, Seleucus seems to me to be an unsatisfactory 'active' victim, especially when one compares him with the fiery zest, the constant stratagems of Cleopatre. Neither can I accept that Seleucus makes an attempt to avoid the dangers that surround him, for he is not aware of their extent. On the positive side of these matters, there certainly is a disaster, and an uncalculated factor, in Cleopatre's wrath.
In summation, it is clear that there are tragic elements in the characterisation of Seleucus. He does commit a form of 'hamartia'. He experiences 'anagnorisis'. He does come to disaster. He does run the gamut of the 'tragic hero', but only in parts, for in others there are still questions, doubts--so one comes to a qualified judgment on his 'exploratory' role. He is a 'tragic hero' of sorts, but I believe he slots more conveniently into another role : that of the detached, impassive Stoic. For one who was, at the outset, a sceptic, his experiences in dealing with 'family', added to his abhorrence at the proposal from someone he loved, would, I think, naturally and logically lead him to an impassive detachment. His is the attempt of Reason to rise superior to the blows of Fortune. In all this, it is as if his character arose from Marcus Aurelius's Meditations, Book VI, 50 :
Try to move men by persuasion ; yet act against their will if the principles of justice so direct. But if someone uses force to obstruct you, then take a different line ; resign yourself without a pang, and turn the obstacle into an opportunity for the exercise of some other virtue. Your attempt was always subject to reservations, remember ; you were not aiming at the impossible. At what, then ? Simply at making the attempt itself. In this you succeeded ; and with that, the object of your existence is attained.
Corneille was an exponent of Classicism, which is, in effect, imitation of the 'Antients'--in particular, Aristotle and Horace, and their belief in reason and regularity, with its emphasis on order and discipline. But he was interested in the success of his plays, and was influenced by Alexandre Hardy in this respect. Hardy suppressed certain traditional features--such as the use of the chorus--in response to public taste and considerations of profit. Corneille's age saw the period of the Baroque, which, in literature, was manifested by a wish to astound and surprise, to horrify, to show extreme states of mind, violent and unnatural passions, and deeds of horror. Incest and revenge were common themes. As P.J.Harrow (Corneille) says : Delighting in violent conflicts and strong contrasts, the baroque age was, perhaps, naturally drawn to the theatre. These 'violent conflicts and strong contrasts' are the staple diet of tragedy, but are also the mood of the age. Corneille succeeded in merging the Baroque with the symmetries and parallelisms of Rodogune .
In considering Seleucus's role, I cast doubts on the strength of Antiochus's amitie. This stems from what I conceive to be Antiochus's role in Rodogune. He is in microcosm what the play is in macrocosm. As the play is the Baroque merged with a classical framework, Antiochus is baroque hypocrisy merged with the concept of genereux. Yarrow describes the Baroque age thus : an age where it is hard to distinguish between illusion and reality. Not only are appearances themselves deceitful, but men are hypocritical : they assume a mask. Or Montaigne : Voila comment tous ces jugements qui se font des apparences externes, sont merveilleusement incertains et douteux. To offset this we have Richelieu, for whom Reason is the only guide : la raison est le seul et le vrai motif, or Descartes :
Les genereux....sont toujours parfaitement courtois, affables et officieux envers un chacun. Et avec cela ils sont entierement maitres de leurs passions, particulierement des desirs, de la jalousie et de l'envie. (Traite des Passions, 156)
Antiochus, then, even subsumes his amour for Rodogune beneath a rationally controlled approach to life. I have suggested that he 'assumes a mask'. He is certainly devious--but always within limits--a point which is made clear in lines 1099-1100, when he plans to subvert leur haine with larmes : he can turn on emotion. A synthesis of his attitude can be seen in the monologue of Act IV, 2.
Antiochus is involved in another 'tragic' aspect of Rodogune. The basic question is amour-estime. involving not only the idea of love being directed to the most worthy object, but the obligation of lovers to prove themselves worthy of love. With regard to Rodogune's conditions, Antiochus might earn her amour if he satisfies the conditions, yet he will forfeit her esteem--and therefore her love--if he does not. When Rodogune finally subdues her haine--which is nothing but a perverted sense of duty, based on the dying Nicanor's imprecations--she comes to terms both with her own and Antiochus's positions. They effect a happy mean, and everything is rosy in the garden of amour, until Act V, 4.
In that scene, the news of Seleucus's murder exacerbates the private position of the lovers, for, if Rodogune has been involved in the murder, she will surely have lost not only the esteem but the love of Antiochus. This is a public scene, whereas all the foregoing manoeuvres and stratagems have been in private. Le peuple have come to this ceremonie, and, before Timagene's arrival, they are tout ravi par ses voeux. The news of the murder is the catalyst that sparks off a series of fiery exchanges between Cleopatre and Rodogune. One can imagine the people standing dumbstruck, and seeing a fissure of doubt opening up between the lovers. Instead of a public revelation of love, they witness one of hatred.
For Rodogune, redeeming features are that she makes a public admission of her justes sentiments, and that she is first to move to prevent Antiochus from killing himself with his sword. The latter's next notion is that she (and Cleopatre) is saving him for a life of living death. The clinching proof of her love for him should have been her intuitive action to prevent his suicide. In Pascal's system, Rodogune would have won the Order of Charity, but Antiochus signifies simply that his doubts have diminished, and Rodogune is only un peu moins criminelle.
The curtain comes down on the lovers' situation, with the changing of la pompe nuptiale to funebre appareil. And then : Et nous verrons apres, par d'autres sacrifices,
Si les Dieux voudront etre a nos voeuxs plus propices.
It will depend on d'autres sacrifices and the Gods. The only saving feature is that he is still talking in terms of nos voeuxs. Their happy relationship has been tainted by doubt. Whatever it may yet achieve, it will not be the same as the one they would have had if Seleucus had not been killed. As J.H.Broome (Corneille) says : This ambiguity is of the essence of tragedy, because it implies limitation.
Now, to Cleopatre. Corneille tells us in the first of his Discours that a tragedy dealt with persons of royal, eminent or illustrious rank in danger of losing their lives or their states or of banishment. And Leech says : it is a dramatic convenience if the central figure is given a position of manifest eminence. He will appear to have a special claim to our attention. In Rodogune, we have a central group of royal persons. Among these, Cleopatre as La Reine is the one of manifest eminence.
The evolution of her 'tragic' situation spans from first to last. She holds political power, which is the highest kind of power attainable by purely human means. Brereton has this to say about power : The tragic sense of life is alive wherever there is unsatisfied curiosity about the nature of power allied to the belief that some valid discoveries about it are possible. It is here that the concept of the 'tragic hero' comes in. He is the medium for that 'unsatisfied curiosity'. In Seleucus's case, one was not exploring the 'supreme corridors of power', but a lesser stratum. In considering his importance to the play, it was shown that there were 'tragic' elements, but also gaps. In my view there are no gaps in Cleopatre's position as the 'true tragic hero'. Brereton's composite definition of the tragic hero is thus :
The tragic hero is an exploratory agent. He is, in this sense, an unconscious agent--the conscious exploration is undertaken by the spectators. He must engage the sympathy of these by some personal quality, for otherwise they would be watching an irrelevant experiment on an alien subject. He must not be a passive victim, for that would rob the experiment of its interest in another way. He must not be able to foresee the final outcome, since if he did so it would no longer be a genuine experiment. It is here that the mistake, defect or failure enters in. Not being a passive victim, the hero will make an attempt to avoid the dangers which surround him. Owing to some incalculated factor the attempt fails, and he comes to disaster, which may or may not be the disaster he feared initially.
I would contend initially that the sympathies of the spectators would be with Cleopatre, they having learned of the diverse traumas she suffered in earlier years. What also emerges from the exposition is that she has emerged from a past that abounded with treachery, Macchiavellianism and raison d'etat. She herself has been subject to it all, so, to 'sympathy' one must add 'admiration' at the skill with which she averted the various dangers. She has developed a proclivity for raison d'etat in order to retain power. This is where Aristotle's 'katharsis' comes in. He saw it as associated with 'pity and fear'. Corneille saw it as associated with 'admiration'. In the exposition, Corneille lays a solid foundation for an admiration for the character of Cleopatre, before she even takes the stage.
It is clear, in the monologue after her entrance on the play, that Cleopatre is the devious politician. One recalls, here, a passage from Macchiavelli's The Prince : contemporary experience shows that princes who have achieved great things have been those who have given their word lightly, who have known how to trick men with their cunning, and who, in the end, have overcome those abiding by honest principles. So, in her first scene, we see the Macchiavellian. It is now convenient to move, for le Parthe est eloigne. She can cancel out the serments, the contrainte, and give full flourish to her haine dissimulee. The fact that the haine is dissimulee and can be revived shows that Cleopatre is in control of her passions. Haine and vengeance are subsumed beneath her raison d'etat. Her abiding concept is l'amour du diademe.
As said earlier, I believe that Cleopatre's 'hamartia' is that she favours an unbending, raison d'etat approach to life which has no value for personal matters--amour, amitie, and her own maternal feelings, however subdued--if they will not fit into her grand-design concept. In line 439 we see the first consequence of this unbending concept, when Cleopatre seems to be carried away with her secret, and appears to miss Laonice's point that her revelation of the droit d'ainesse will make her sons more united. In lines 441-53, Cleopatre mulls over her secret, which is the knowledge that, by keeping the sons in doubt, she can remain in power.
Her Macchiavellian nature can be seen in lines 453-8, which indicate that the princes were kept in Memphis during Antiochus's reign, initially because of his fears of losing power if they were returned, but also as Cleopatre's bargaining counter : her ploy to ensure that Antiochus has followed her commands. Cette juste crainte implies that she agreed with Antiochus's reasons, because, of course, they suited hers. We can enjoy, then, the dramatic irony of line 545, where Cleopatre makes Antiochus out to be the sole villain, in keeping the sons away from the throne.
In lines 485-502, it is clear that Cleopatre wants a king like Antiochus : one who will be subservient to her commands, and the instrument of her belligerent, retributive designs against Tryphon. In short, one who will rallumer la guerre. I think this is relevant to Cleopatre's hatred for Rodogune. Her death will instigate a renewal of the wars, and Cleopatre will have a king-general to lead the vulgaire. Hatred of Rodogune is subsumed beneath the expedience of policy. Embrasser ma querelle est le seul droit d'ainesse, says Cleopatre. Once again, she sees la mort de Rodogune as a matter of policy, and thinks that the sons' astonishment is due to their fear of Phraates's revenge. As in Act I, 2, 439, Cleopatre sees matters strictly in terms of raison d'etat, to the extent that she eclipses any other possible factors--love, amitie. This single-channel vision is her 'hamartia'.
In Act IV,2, Antiochus's monologue indicates that he wants to turn Cleopatre back to a rational basis for a reciprocal mother-son love. His instruments will be the same ones used on Rodogune : pleurs and offering to sacrifice son sang to help purge her vengeful wrath. Thus, in the next scene, Antiochus starts an offensive based on truth. He appeals to her maternal sentiments. Then he broaches the logic that she has caused l'amour to come about, by bringing the sons back for the 'marriage of policy'. His next ploy is to stress that both he and Seleucus were being truly filial in developing amour on the basis of devoir. He continues the argument on the question of what the sons 'should have foreseen' (1307-8).
I believe that in hammering home all the above points about duty, and finally leading into the question of whether the sons should have been able to foresee cette haine cachee, Antiochus has prised open the 'hidden' Cleopatre. For all her Macchiavellianism, for all that she has seemed to be above maternal feelings, she seems now to be responding to the promptings about filial duty. We see, for the one and only time, the human Cleopatre, i.e. thinking and acting at the normal human level. She seems to be remarkably honest here, divulgent for no practical reason.
In the next few lines, Antiochus makes the gaffe of putting l'amour and la nature on an equal basis. Instead of the customary torrent of imprecations for such an audacity, we get the feeble Non, non....(1328) : she is weakening. Fils ingrat et rebelle is not followed by an exclamation mark, nor are lines 1333-8, yet they are akin to Cleopatre's stock of fire-spitting phrases. She is talking with a subdued voice. Would Antiochus have dared say, Votre main tremble-t-elle ? y voulez-vous la mienne ?, if this were not the case ?
To clinch the matter, Antiochus goes to emotive extremes ; the larmes and the offer to pierce his heart. The consequence of plying Cleopatre's 'hamartia' is that Antiochus has both his goals satisfied : he obtains the royal sanction for his marriage and his accession. We recall Brereton : Not being a passive victim, the hero will make an attempt to avoid the dangers which surround him. Antiochus, in a fog of elation, has paid no heed to that cautionary presque (1352), nor to the ominous tone of line 1375. Cleopatre has given way to maternal instincts, but her submission has not been absolute. It is significant that when Laonice refers to those visible signs of weakness--pleurs; ce coeur adouci--that Cleopatre almost seems to jolt herself back to her normal, curt, abrasive manner. She has sealed over the cracks. Now for ' the attempt to avoid the dangers which surround ' her.
The monologue in Act IV, 5 shows that she is back to her normal self. In line 1356, she probably gave her word sincerely to Antiochus. Now she is the Macchiavellian in full flood. Va, triomphe en idee avec ta Rodogune--yes, it has been given lightly. Cleopatre actually acknowledges the weakness in which she has just indulged, for now she is mieux instruite en l'art de me venger. She has learned from the error of having someone dedans ma confidence. The 'dangers surrounding' could now be anyone and everyone.
In the interview with Seleucus that follows, Seleucus shows that he can see into her stratagems, but he accords her le respect, and departs with a dutiful Adieu. It is ironic that when Antiochus (IV,4) and Seleucus (IV,6) came closest to their mother, those were the starting points from which Cleopatre conceived of the necessity for their destruction : Leurs jours egalement sont pour moi dangereux.
Owing to some uncalculated factor, the attempt fails, and he comes to disaster. Having assumed that Seleucus was dead, Cleopatre presides over the ceremonies with tact and aplomb. Cleopatre's wish to kill both her sons has a definite rational basis--I mean this in terms of Cleopatre's conception of reason, her raison d'etat. Her previous schemes for provoking that long-sought-after war with the Parthians entailed the death of Rodogune as a means of precipitating the war. Antiochus and Seleucus were unwilling to be party to that scheme. For one of such gloire and single-mindedness in the pursuance of raison d'etat, clearly all the castigations, all the imprecations she hurled at her sons stemmed from what she expected of everyone, but more especially from her sons : a self-abnegating involvement in the pursuance of raison d'etat. That involvement demanded a willingness to sacrifice anyone to the grander design--including one's amour.
Her sons have been unwilling to be a part of her raison d'etat stratagems. In not wishing to kill Rodogune, they have shown themselves clearly to be at the mercy of 'the passions'. Cleopatre's absolute and uncompromising concern is with Reason in the pursuit and maintenance of power, with Reason as the master. It is little wonder that Cleopatre can plan the deaths of her sons, again as a matter of policy and stratagem. Her commitment is absolute. The princes have fallen well below Cleopatre's vision of stature, gloire. She also has other reasons for considering them as mere instruments in the grand design :
(1) Seleucus has got too close to the marrow. She suspects that he has envisaged her plans for Antiochus and Rodogune (1493), so, as a logical matter of policy : He must go, and go quickly.
(2) Antiochus knows the art of reducing the rational, awe-inspiring Cleopatre to a mere woman, a prey to the ordinary 'passions' of maternal love : He too must go.
Having assumed that Seleucus has been despatched, it is then a simple case of getting Antiochus to prendre la coupe, and perhaps, even as Antiochus would begin to falter and choke, she would accuse Rodogune of her son's murder, and so her ultimate aim--a retributive war with the Parthians--would reach fruition. Cleopatre as much as says this in line 1486 : Il me les faut percer pour aller jusqu'a toi. An important point about la coupe is that it must be a part of the ceremony that the prospective bridegroom drinks first, for on both occasions in Act V when Antiochus nearly poisons himself, he does receive the coupe first. Cleopatre knew this, and planned to accuse Rodogune of the murder of her son, and thus provoke a war.
To return, then, to the 'tragic' exploration. The 'incalculated factor' is the arrival of Timagene, with the fateful words, une main qui nous fut bien chere. The 'attempt to avoid dangers fails' : Cleopatre's attempt fails because the lovers are put on their guard, to the extent that Rodogune is suspicious of the coupe nuptiale. When Cleopatre takes up and swallows the poison, only then does she experience her moments of 'anagnorisis'--a ' speech of wild and whirling words', spouting bitter imprecations to the last. From that brief spell in Act IV, 3, where Cleopatre experienced maternal love, she switches here to a hatred for Antiochus. I started this examination of Cleopatre by saying that initially she merited sympathy and admiration. I must conclude by saying that she does develop into an absolutely startling presentation of character. Or, more appropriately, eblouissante.
One recalls Leech's words on what tragedy is about : 'the realisation of the unthinkable'. In comparing the two postulated 'exploratory agents', I feel that one must conclude that Cleopatre's 'tragic' progress is much nearer to that realisation . Or Brereton : 'The tragic hero's experience will illuminate certain danger-areas for us, but only momentarily, only partially'. I am inclined to believe that Cleopatre's 'experience' was one of wider scope and greater complexity, was more revealing in the actions concerning her of the processes of tragedy, more inclusive than the 'experience' of Seleucus. In the last analysis, then, Cleopatre, and not Seleucus, is the true tragic hero of Rodogune.
