The Feeble Feminine: Cleopatra’s Transformation into a Passive Woman and the Defense of Louise de Kérouaille in John Dryden’s All for Love

Essay by Sim Deol

Art by Adri Marcano

Cleopatra has come to be a figure often regarded in popular culture as beautiful, intelligent, and above all, powerful. This understanding of her character is consistent with her representation in Shakespeare’s tragedy Antony and Cleopatra. On the other hand, Dryden’s adaptation of Shakespeare’s narrative, All for Love, presents a Cleopatra for whom these hallmark traits are diluted if not done away with completely. But why is such a change necessary, or even desired? Analyzing the adaptive relationship between the aforementioned texts reveals that many of the observable differences in Dryden’s rendition serve a passive representation of femininity. Sanders, in her book Adaptation and Appropriation, points to a specific kind of adaptive relationship that involves “adaptations that comment on the politics […] of the new mise-en-scène […] by means of alteration or addition,” resulting in the category of ‘commentary’ (27). Therefore, it is here argued that reading All for Love as a political commentary illuminates how Dryden adapts Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra to articulate social concerns surrounding gender and its relationship to successful monarchy, particularly in the context of Charles II’s rule. Most significantly, Dryden’s Cleopatra is ‘tamed’ through two alterations: firstly, by distancing Cleopatra from royal status, and secondly, by placing Alexas as the manipulator in place of Cleopatra. It is through the striking effects of these changes on the play’s gender dynamic that Dryden delicately crafts a commentary on his contemporary political context, drawing parallels between the fictional Antony and Cleopatra and the real King Charles II and Louise de Kérouaille, his French mistress. However, Dryden does not seek to simply echo public opinion by painting Cleopatra—and therefore de Kérouaille—as intentionally deceitful, as in Shakespeare’s original, but rather uses Cleopatra’s newfound passivity to ascribe the downfall of the play’s lovers to love itself. In doing so, Dryden outlines a political commentary that passes itself as ambivalent towards the king’s mistress, but not towards passion over reason, thereby promoting ideals that were valued in the Dryden’s Restoration era. Through his adaptation of Shakespeare’s tragedy, Dryden is able to carefully tread a line of critique and compliment, articulating the concerns of Charles’ court and the public while simultaneously appealing to the king as the appointed poet laureate. 

Dryden’s transformation of Cleopatra’s character is most explicitly communicated through distancing her from both her royal status and powerful personality. Her status as a royal in Antony and Cleopatra is emphasized throughout the play, and is further affirmed by her domineering personality. As noted by Charlton: 

Cleopatra’s character is intriguing in the ways she performs as a lover, a militant leader, and the destroyer of the Roman triumvirate. The queen is presented to the audience as the epitome of desire, intelligence, and jealousy, amongst other things. These capabilities allow her to possess a type of agency that many women in seventeenth-century England did not have. (23) 

The changes to such a version of Cleopatra in Dryden’s rendition are anything but subtle; the once-cutthroat Egyptian royal seeks to remove her own agency, stating that she is “fit to be a captive,” and that “Antony / has taught [her] mind the fortune of a slave” (Dryden 2.16-17). At other points, the removal of royal status is explicit, as she muses that she is “no queen” (2.9). Unlike the Cleopatra of Shakespeare’s vision, whose ego seems too large to ever denigrate herself to lowly—much less enslaved—status, Dryden’s Cleopatra self-inflicts her distance from royalty. These remarks are a result of her own awareness; however, she scorns love for turning her heart, feeling undeserving of royal titles because her passion contradicts duty. Her priorities are clearly documented during her interaction with Alexas, upon learning Antony will be leaving for Athens:

ALEXAS. You are no more a queen;

Egypt is lost.

CLEOPATRA. What tell’st thou me of Egypt?

My life, my soul is lost! Octavia has him! (3.449-452) 

While it is more typical to encounter a royal that views their kingdom as their life, Dryden’s Cleopatra has placed all stock into Antony and their connection, effectively abandoning her role and power for Antony’s approval. Cleopatra’s distance from royal status is especially emphasized in her death: in Antony and Cleopatra, the Egyptian queen seeks to die in her regalia, instructing her maids to “[g]ive [her her] robe. Put on [her] crown,” because she has “[i]mmortal longings in [her]” (Shakespeare 5.2.335-336). Shakespeare’s Cleopatra refuses to abandon her status, even as she prepares to enter a realm where it is meaningless, and thus behaves like a true royal, preferring a proud death to a surrender. Comparatively, Dryden’s Cleopatra seeks an entirely different image in death: that of Antony’s wife. In All for Love’s parallel scene, Cleopatra instead instructs her maids to adorn Antony’s head with a laurel “[a]nd dress the bride of Antony” (Dryden 5.533). Dryden’s Cleopatra remains passive to Antony even once he is already dead, and resigns her status as queen for that of Antony’s wife. The obvious portrayal of passive femininity is evident: Cleopatra’s love overrules her power to such an extent that she seeks domestic status above all else in death. 

The second, and most impactful method of Cleopatra’s adaptation into a passive woman is through upgrading the role of Alexas to a manipulative ‘puppet master,’ thereby shifting an aspect of villainy that was once Cleopatra’s onto another figure. Though in Shakespeare only a minor character who functions as a messenger with little personality outside of devotion to Cleopatra, Dryden moulds Alexas into the play’s antagonist by allowing him to absorb Cleopatra’s manipulative cunning evident in Antony and Cleopatra. In Shakespeare, the Egyptian queen plays on Antony’s emotions in order to prevent him from leaving her company. After hearing rumours about his intent to depart for Athens, she tells him that she is “sick and sullen,” and feigns fainting (Shakespeare 1.3.16). To resort to histrionics in hopes of bringing about her desired outcome appears as second instinct to the queen, contributing to her cunning and intelligent persona in the play. In All for Love, however, this instinct for cunning passes to Alexas, which in turn absolves Cleopatra of such qualities that typically belong to the ‘femme fatale’ archetype. During a parallel scene in which Antony is set on departing from Egypt to return to duties of war, Alexas expertly arranges an opportunity for the lovers to reconcile:

ANTONY. (Going to tie [the bracelet])

We soldiers are so awkward–help me tie it. 

ALEXAS. In faith, my lord, we courtiers are too awkward 

In these affairs. So are all men indeed;

Ev’n I, who am not one. But shall I speak?

ANTONY. Yes, freely.

ALEXAS. Then, my lord, fair hands alone

Are fit to tie it; she who sent it can. (Dryden 2.250-256)

As a result of his gifting Antony the bracelet, as well as knowing that Antony will be unable to put it on, Alexas is able to predict and act in such a way that guides Antony to behave in the exact way that Alexas desires. Another crucial element of Alexas’ role as manipulator is outlined through the love triangle with Dollabella, another adapted minor character from Antony and Cleopatra. Dollabella’s role as ‘the other man’ is an added element from Dryden’s imagination, meaning it has no equivalent in Shakespeare’s play and therefore stands out as a particularly significant addition. While it may initially appear to audiences that the inclusion of a love triangle serves to portray Cleopatra as cunning, that claim comes into question once one considers that the entire ruse is Alexas’ idea. Upon hearing Cleopatra’s anguish after learning that Antony is leaving with Octavia, Alexas encourages her to “try / [t]o make him jealous,” explaining that “[j]ealousy is like / [a] polished glass held to the lips when life [is] in doubt” (4.78-80). In bringing up the strategy of purposefully sparking jealousy from Antony as a way to regain his affections, Alexas shows that he not only plays upon Antony’s emotions but Cleopatra’s as well. Alexas understands Cleopatra’s priority of love over royal duty and knows she will be destroyed if Antony leaves, and thus by dangling the possibility of reconciliation in front of Cleopatra, Alexas knows she will do anything for it. Cleopatra makes it clear that she understands that such deception would be wrong, stating that:

CLEOPATRA: …my love’s so true

That I can neither hide it where it is,

Nor show it where it is not. Nature meant me

A wife, a silly, harmless, household dove,

Fond without art and kind without deceit

But Fortune, that has made a mistress of me

Has thrust me out into the wide world, unfurnished

Of falsehood to be happy. (4.97-104) 

The function of Alexas as manipulator is most evident here: Cleopatra reveals that she is good-hearted, but feels that she must go against her morals to be happy. The cunning nature of Alexas feeds directly into the queen’s passivity: instead of scheming and manipulating as she does in Shakespeare, she instead mourns a domestic persona of a “household dove” and wife that she has not been able to exhibit (4.99). Not only does Alexas give Cleopatra a dubious strategy by which to secure her highest priority of love, but he also feeds her the man to use as a pawn: Alexas suggests Dollabella, wondering “[w]ho so fit / [t]o practice on?” (4.87-88), and pointing out that “[h]e stands already more than half suspected / [o]f loving [Cleopatra]” (4.91-92). This supreme manipulation by Alexas works on multiple levels: he takes into account the fact that Dollabella holds affection for the Egyptian queen, but is also keenly aware of the relationship Dollabella has to Antony. Alexas knows of the close friendship between the two men, and though he believes this closeness will increase the power of Antony’s jealousy, Alexas is aware of how much the act will hurt Antony, thus adding to Alexas’ role as antagonist, and further absolving Cleopatra of evil intent. The mitigation of Cleopatra’s character into a representation of passive femininity illustrates the double edged sword of character improvement in adaptation: in diluting her powerful, occasionally despotic attitude, her affection and loyalty to Antony is clearer, and by transplanting her manipulative cunning to Alexas, she is cast as a woman of good intention. In the removal of such hallmark traits, it becomes clear that Cleopatra’s ‘improved’ persona costs her the agency she clearly displays in Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra. While it may appear that such an adaptive move may be purely in service of misogynistic messaging, there are many factors at work in All for Love that suggest a different motive. 

By emphasizing Cleopatra’s passivity, Dryden is able to reconstruct the lovers’ downfall as a result of passion as opposed to Cleopatra’s betrayal. This is best demonstrated by the role of the Battle of Actium, as Shakespeare makes Cleopatra’s flight from the naval battle the true beginning of the lovers’ tragic downfall. Dryden, however, chooses to begin his narrative after these events have already taken place, effectively reducing their reflection on Cleopatra’s character. Meanwhile, in Shakespeare’s version, Cleopatra’s agency and desire to take up the battle is made clear:

CLEOPATRA. Sink Rome, and their tongues rot

That speak against us! A charge we bear i’ th’ war,

And as the president of my kingdom will

Appear there for a man. Speak not against it.

I will not stay behind. (3.7.19-23) 

The Egyptian queen’s pride and Roman bloodlust are emphasized here, and they are tied to her intelligence and military acumen, both qualities that demonstrate her agency; thus, when Cleopatra’s fleet abandons Antony in battle, the act is cast as a willful betrayal, so much so that Antony vows that “[t]he witch shall die” for what she has done (Shakespeare 4.12.53). A stark difference appears in Dryden’s rendition, revealing the purpose of Cleopatra’s passive reconfiguration:

CLEOPATRA. I fled, but not to the enemy, ‘Twas fear.

Would I had been a man, not to have feared,

For none would then have envied me your friendship,

Who envy me your love. (2.434-437)

By portraying Cleopatra’s flight from battle as a result of weakness and fear, explicitly ascribed to her feminine identity, Dryden is able to fashion a moment of betrayal into an opportunity to garner sympathy for the Egyptian royal. Unlike Shakespeare’s Cleopatra, whose agency and powerful disposition further condemns her, Dryden’s Cleopatra is a portrait of the feeble feminine: too silly, too weak, and too loving to ever purposefully betray her lover, even if it could save her kingdom from the Caesar banging on its door. In absolving the Egyptian queen of a large share of the blame for the lovers’ downfall, Dryden is able to instead articulate a different ‘villain’ that conforms to Restoration ideals and promotes the era’s morals.  

When noting the trends within Restoration drama, Marsden explains that “characters are clearly identified as either good or bad while the principle of poetic justice informs the outcome of each play” (14). This preference towards morally aligned endings best articulates the reasons for the adaptation of Shakespeare in the period: in making such alterations, Shakespeare’s complex tragedy was made palatable to Restoration tastes. While Shakespeare’s plays often exhibit the chaos and complexity of characters and their situations, Restoration plays for the stage had to conform to standards of morality, which Dryden clearly implemented when adapting the downfall of Antony and Cleopatra. The moral realignment is indicated from the beginning, or rather, before the beginning: the title All for Love makes explicit the play’s intended takeaways, revealing that everything that Antony and Cleopatra lose, including their lives, is the cost of them prioritizing passion over reason. Antony, when telling Octavia why he cannot return with her to Athens, explains that he “can ne’er be conquered but by love, / [a]nd [she does] all for duty” (Dryden 3.356-357). Dryden writes an awareness of Restoration morals into his characters clearly, and it is true that in the end, it is Antony’s propensity towards love that conquers him for good. It is the false news, uncoincidentally delivered by Alexas, that Cleopatra “half pronounced [Antony’s] name with her last breath / [a]nd buried half [of the dagger] within her” that motivates Antony to commit suicide (Dryden 4.267-268). It is important to note that, though Dryden keeps Shakespeare’s sequence of deaths intact, Dryden makes changes so that Antony dies alone, without seeing Cleopatra again or realizing she is still alive. In removing Cleopatra’s cunning and supposed betrayal at Actium, the catalyst of Antony’s downfall is entirely shifted to his inability to conform to Restoration ideals—his quickness to act out of passion before using reason, or conforming to duty. Thinking back to Sanders’ quote on political commentary as an adaptive category, the vastness of Dryden’s “alteration and addition” does not simply echo broad Restoration ideals, but also speaks to a specific historical moment (Sanders 27). 

Dryden’s choice to adapt Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra in 1677 appears as no coincidence, as All for Love “was first performed during great political unrest and opposition to Charles II’s government, and critics noticed the parallel between Antony and Charles as rulers with foreign mistresses that threatened their political stability” (Caldwell 24). It is true that the similarities between the two sets of lovers are too uncanny to be accidental, and especially when considering how Cleopatra is framed in Shakespeare, it is clear that both of the women in these equations had been perceived with the same xenophobic and misogynistic suspicion. It was of public opinion that Louise de Kérouaille, Charles II’s French mistress, posed a significant political threat to England because of her Catholic religion and French origin, along with her closeness to Louis XIV. In her book Political Women, Menzies writes:

Too sensible to exact a strict fidelity from the King, the Duchess of Portsmouth was content to sigh in silence so long as her womanly feelings alone were sported with; but when it seemed likely that the influence which she strove to utilise to the profit of France might be trenched upon, her resentment broke forth in sudden and sweeping ebullitions which even the dread of a public scandal was impotent to repress. (113) 

Menzies clearly outlines public skepticism of de Kérouaille’s love for the King, framing it as a politically advantageous relationship as opposed to a romantic one. Yet, Menzies’ quote also touches on what can be considered the base of Dryden’s ‘make-over’ of Cleopatra from a political threat into a passive lover: Kérouaille “was content to sigh in silence so long as her womanly feelings were sported with,” suggesting that though she may have been a political threat, she was still only a woman (113). Dryden’s passive adaptation of Cleopatra optimistically mirrors her allegorical equivalent, Kérouaille, by only reflecting that kind of passive behaviour. This change is so prominent, in fact, that Dryden appears to use Cleopatra as a way to defend Kérouaille’s interest in the King as genuine and romantic. 

There are two strong points in the play that evidence Dryden’s defensive stance on Kérouaille, the first relating to the suspicion that the French mistress used her charms for financial gain. After the King’s death, Menzies writes that “[o]n [Kérouaille’s] return to France she carried with her a large treasure in money and jewels” (120). Dryden works against the representation of Cleopatra—and therefore Kérouaille—as a ‘gold-digger’ by inverting a scene from Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra. In Shakespeare’s narrative, Alexas is the one delivering gifts to Cleopatra from Antony:

ALEXAS. Last thing he did, dear queen,

He kissed—the last of many doubled kisses—

This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart (1.5.45-47). 

Considering Dryden’s context, had he chosen to leave such a scene unaltered, it would clearly affirm suspicions about Cleopatra’s allegorical equivalent as wealth-hungry and false. But, the scene is entirely flipped on its head in All for Love:

ALEXAS. Your mistress would, she says, have sent her soul.

But that you had long since; she humbly begs

This ruby bracelet, set with bleeding hearts 

[…] may bind your arm. (Dryden 2.228-231) 

By having Cleopatra as the one sending gifts to Antony instead of the other way around, Dryden chooses to represent a genuine picture of a devoted, passionate relationship, where neither of the lovers are concerned with wealth because they both have it in ample amounts. Dryden also purposefully emphasizes religious assimilation in his play, which reveals another deep connection between Cleopatra and Kérouaille. When addressing each other, Antony and Cleopatra refer to each other in terms of the Roman pantheon as opposed to the Egyptian:

ANTONY. My brighter Venus

CLEOPATRA. Oh my greater Mars! (Dryden 3.11-12)


This moment showcases the foreign lover assimilating into the culture and religion of the Roman Antony, and though it is a small moment in the play, it speaks to other concerns held by the public about Kérouaille in relation to Charles II, and England as a whole. Huse writes that Kérouaille “had, in fact, become a metaphor for the English court’s intimacy with religions and monarchs stigmatized as foreign and indeed anti-Christian” (24). Kérouaille, coming from France, was a Catholic woman, which caused tension with the overwhelmingly Protestant English public. In having Cleopatra assimilate to the point of using Roman gods for endearing metaphors, Dryden casts the Catholic mistress as holding that same potential. For both women, Cleopatra’s passive adaptation is a fundamental element of the women’s portrayal as politically non-threatening. Dryden’s choice to contradict public opinion by defending the stance of Louise de Kérouaille, instead of pandering to the public, caters to the king’s tastes instead, revealing Dryden’s true priorities when it came to articulating the message of his adaptation. 

When considering all the elements of the aforementioned argument, one can conclude that Dryden’s All for Love tactfully toes the line of critique and compliment in regards to Charles II and his relationship with Kérouaille. By fashioning Cleopatra as a passive woman, the metaphor communicates the same about Kérouaille, defending her relationship with Charles II to an increasingly skeptical public and court. Dryden is still able, however, to cater to public and court complaints by propping up Restoration ideals of rationality over passion. In structuring his political commentary this way, Dryden is still able to discuss the threat that love poses to successful monarchy, but in an impersonal way which would not risk offending Charles II. Thus, Dryden proves he deserves the title of poet laureate—a title appointed by the king himself—by navigating political commentary that voices public concern while simultaneously appeasing those on whom he comments. 

 

 

 

Works Cited

Charlton, Jordan. “An Argument for Cleopatra—the ‘Herculean Hero’—of Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra.” Journal of the Wooden O Symposium, vol. 20, 2020, pp. 21-31. 

 Dryden, John. “All for Love; or, The World Well Lost.” Ed. Tanya Caldwell. The Broadview Anthology of Restoration & Early Eighteenth-Century Drama, edited by J. Douglas Canfield and Maja-Lida von Sneidern, Broadview Press, 2003, pp. 218-263.

Frank, Marcie. “Fighting Women and Loving Men: Dryden’s Representation of Shakespeare in All for Love.” Queering the Renaissance, edited by Jonathan Goldberg, Duke University Press, 1993, pp. 310-329.

Huse, Ann A. “Cleopatra, Queen of the Seine: The Politics of Eroticism in Dryden’s All for Love.” The Huntington Library Quarterly, vol. 63, no. 1/2, 2000, pp. 23-46.

Marsden, Jean. The Re-imagined Text: Shakespeare, Adaptation, and Eighteenth-Century Literary Theory. Kentucky UP, 1995, pp. 13-46. 

Menzies, Sutherland. “The Duchess of Portsmouth.” Political Women: Being Biographical Notices of Anne De Bourbon, the Duchess De Longueville, the Duchess De Chevreuse, Princess Palatine, Mademoiselle De Montpensier, Madame De Montbazon, the Duchess of Portsmouth, Sarah Jennings, Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough vol. 2, H.S. King & Co., England, 1875, pp. 109-123.

Sanders, Julie. Adaptation and Appropriation. Taylor & Francis Group, United Kingdom, 2015.

Shakespeare, William. Antony and Cleopatra. Ed. Barbara Mowat, Paul Werstine, Michael Poston, and Rebecca Niles. Folger Shakespeare Library. https://www.folger.edu/explore/shakespeares-works/antony-and-cleopatra/read/ . Accessed 3 Dec. 2024.