Antony and Cleopatra, Act 1, Scene 4

Caesar

You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know,It is not Caesar’s natural vice to hateOur great competitor. From AlexandriaThis is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastesThe lamps of night in revel: is not more manlikeThan Cleopatra, nor the queen of PtolemyMore womanly than he; hardly gave audience, orVouchsafed to think he had partners. You shall find thereA man who is the abstract of all faultsThat all men follow.

You can see, Lepidus, and understand from now on, that hating our great fellow ruler is not a natural fault of Caesar’s. Here is the news from Alexandria: he fishes, drinks, and wastes the night in parties. He is no more manly than Cleopatra, and Ptolemy’s queen is no more womanly than he is. He hardly grants anyone an audience or bothers to remember that he has partners in power. You’ll find in him a man who embodies every fault that all men practice.

Lepidus

I must not think there areEvils enough to darken all his goodness.His faults in him seem as the spots of heaven,More fiery by night’s blackness; hereditaryRather than purchased; what he cannot changeThan what he chooses.

I cannot believe his faults are enough to overshadow all his goodness. His faults seem like stars in the sky, shining more brightly against the darkness of night. They are inherited rather than acquired, things he cannot change rather than things he chooses.

Caesar

You are too indulgent. Let’s grant it is notAmiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy,To give a kingdom for a mirth, to sitAnd keep the turn of tippling with a slave,To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffetWith knaves that smell of sweat. Say this becomes him—As his composure must be rare indeedWhom these things cannot blemish—yet must AntonyNo way excuse his foils when we do bearSo great weight in his lightness. If he filledHis vacancy with his voluptuousness,Full surfeits and the dryness of his bonesCall on him for’t. But to confound such timeThat drums him from his sport, and speaks as loudAs his own state and ours, ’tis to be chidAs we rate boys who, being mature in knowledge,Pawn their experience to their present pleasureAnd so rebel to judgment.

You’re too forgiving. Let’s grant that there’s nothing wrong with tumbling into Ptolemy’s bed, giving away a kingdom for a laugh, sitting and taking turns drinking with a slave, staggering through the streets at noon, and trading blows with sweaty scoundrels. Say this suits him—though a man must have a remarkable character if such things cannot stain it. Still, Antony cannot excuse his failings when his irresponsibility puts such a heavy burden on us. If he spent only his spare time on sensual pleasures, then the sickness of overindulgence and his weakened bones would be his punishment. But to waste time when it drums him away from his amusements and calls as loudly as his own position and ours demands—that deserves a scolding, just as we scold boys who know better but trade their experience for immediate pleasure and so defy good judgment.

Lepidus

Here’s more news.

Here’s more news.

Messenger

Thy biddings have been done, and every hour,Most noble Caesar, shalt thou have reportHow ’tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea,And it appears he is beloved of thoseThat only have feared Caesar. To the portsThe discontents repair, and men’s reportsGive him much wronged.

Your orders have been carried out, most noble Caesar, and every hour you’ll receive reports on events abroad. Pompey is strong at sea, and it seems he is loved by those who have only feared Caesar. The discontented are gathering at the ports, and people say he has been badly wronged.

Caesar

I should have known no less.It hath been taught us from the primal stateThat he which is was wished until he were,And the ebbed man, ne’er loved till ne’er worth love,Comes deared by being lacked. This common body,Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream,Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide,To rot itself with motion.

I should have expected as much. From the earliest days of government, we’ve learned that people want the man in power until he gets there. And the fallen man, never loved until he was no longer worth loving, becomes dear because he is missed. The common people are like a drifting reed on a stream, moving back and forth, following every change of tide until the motion rots it away.

Second Messenger

Caesar, I bring thee wordMenecrates and Menas, famous pirates,Make the sea serve them, which they ear and woundWith keels of every kind. Many hot inroadsThey make in Italy—the borders maritimeLack blood to think on’t—and flush youth revolt.No vessel can peep forth but ’tis as soonTaken as seen; for Pompey’s name strikes moreThan could his war resisted.

Caesar, I bring you news that Menecrates and Menas, the famous pirates, have made the sea their servant. They plow and cut through it with ships of every kind. They make many fierce raids into Italy. The coastal communities turn pale at the thought, and hot-blooded young men are joining the rebellion. No ship can venture out without being captured as soon as it’s seen. Pompey’s name strikes more terror than his forces would if people stood against them.

Caesar

Antony,Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou onceWas beaten from Modena, where thou slew’stHirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heelDid famine follow, whom thou fought’st against,Though daintily brought up, with patience moreThan savages could suffer. Thou didst drinkThe stale of horses and the gilded puddleWhich beasts would cough at. Thy palate then did deignThe roughest berry on the rudest hedge.Yea, like the stag when snow the pasture sheets,The barks of trees thou browsed. On the AlpsIt is reported thou didst eat strange fleshWhich some did die to look on. And all this—It wounds thine honour that I speak it now—Was borne so like a soldier that thy cheekSo much as lanked not.

Antony, leave your lustful drinking parties. When you were driven from Modena, where you killed the consuls Hirtius and Pansa, famine followed close behind you. Though you were raised in luxury, you fought it with more endurance than savages could show. You drank horses’ urine and the scum-covered water of puddles that would make animals cough. Your taste then accepted the harshest berries from the roughest hedge. Yes, like a deer when snow covers its pasture, you fed on tree bark. In the Alps, they say, you ate strange flesh that some men died merely looking at. And all this—it damages your honor that I should have to mention it now—you endured so much like a soldier that your cheeks didn’t even grow thin.

Lepidus

’Tis pity of him.

It’s a pity about him.

Caesar

Let his shames quicklyDrive him to Rome. ’Tis time we twainDid show ourselves i’ th’ field, and to that endAssemble we immediate council. PompeyThrives in our idleness.

May his shame quickly drive him back to Rome. It’s time the two of us took the field, and for that purpose let’s call a council immediately. Pompey grows stronger while we do nothing.

Lepidus

Tomorrow, Caesar,I shall be furnished to inform you rightlyBoth what by sea and land I can be ableTo front this present time.

Tomorrow, Caesar, I’ll be ready to tell you precisely what forces I can provide by sea and land to meet the present crisis.

Caesar

Till which encounterIt is my business too. Farewell.

Until that meeting, I must attend to the same business. Goodbye.

Lepidus

Farewell, my lord. What you shall know meantimeOf stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir,To let me be partaker.

Goodbye, my lord. Whatever you learn meanwhile about unrest abroad, please, sir, share it with me.

Caesar

Doubt not, sir.I knew it for my bond.

Have no doubt, sir. I know that is my duty.