Further to yesterday's comments about Enobarbus, the sophisticated and cynical follower of Antony: He has some of the most memorable lines in the play. For example, when Antony and Octavius are reaching a tenuous agreement to form an alliance with which to confront Sextus Pompey, Enobarbus gives them some humorous yet truthful advice. He says that they can continue their disagreements (and return to their true natures) after they have dealt with the immediate threats, and once they have more leisure. Antony, in a tricky spot, then takes out some of his tension on him, to which Enobarbus' replies are highly amusing:

ENOBARBUS

Or, if you borrow one another's love for the

instant, you may, when you hear no more words of

Pompey, return it again: you shall have time to

wrangle in when you have nothing else to do.

ANTONY

Thou art a soldier only: speak no more.

ENOBARBUS

That truth should be silent I had almost forgot.

ANTONY

You wrong this presence; therefore speak no more.

ENOBARBUS

Go to, then; your considerate stone.

His statement on telling the truth always makes me think of one made by another chorus-type character, the Fool in King Lear, when he says, "Truth's a dog must to kennel." Both characters show that humour is often used to camouflage its real purpose.

Yesterday I wrote about the final exchange between Menas and Pompey, where Menas' offered assassination of the triumvirs is rejected by Pompey, for reasons having as much to do with public perception as ethical concern. Menas' reference to someone "who seeks, and will not take when once 'tis offer'd" never getting the chance again, brought to mind one of Brutus' well-known quotes from Julius Caesar. Where, as is often the case with him, he disagrees with someone else's plan and gives eloquent reasons for doing so. Here, he is speaking to Cassius, and saying that they shouldn't wait in a defensive position for the armies of Octavius and Antony to attack, but that they should make the first move:

There is a tide in the affairs of men,

Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;

Omitted, all the voyage of their life

Is bound in shallows and in miseries.

These lines are deservedly famed for their poetic content, and often they are quoted to support causes requiring action. Fair enough, but I think it's important to remember that Shakespeare doesn't provide us with dictums, only matters for thought and consideration, and that often the speaker and his or her words, and their results, are at odds. In this case, they do decide to follow Brutus' plan, and then lose the battle, and their lives.

One of my favourite moments in Antony and Cleopatra is during the scene on Sextus Pompey's barge (2.7) where one his followers, Menas, takes him aside and offers him the world - Pompey was surprised by the offer as well. Note the economical, yet charged language in the exchange (by the way the "three world-sharers" are Octavius, Lepidus and Antony, and they are on the barge after signing a treaty to make Pompey their equal, for the time being anyway):

MENAS

Wilt thou be lord of all the world?

POMPEY

What say'st thou?

MENAS

Wilt thou be lord of the whole world? That's twice.

POMPEY

How should that be?

MENAS

But entertain it,

And, though thou think me poor, I am the man

Will give thee all the world.

POMPEY

Hast thou drunk well?

MENAS

No, Pompey, I have kept me from the cup.

Thou art, if thou darest be, the earthly Jove:

Whate'er the ocean pales, or sky inclips,

Is thine, if thou wilt ha't.

POMPEY

Show me which way.

MENAS

These three world-sharers, these competitors,

Are in thy vessel: let me cut the cable;

And, when we are put off, fall to their throats:

All there is thine.

POMPEY

Ah, this thou shouldst have done,

And not have spoke on't! In me 'tis villany;

In thee't had been good service. Thou must know,

'Tis not my profit that does lead mine honour;

Mine honour, it. Repent that e'er thy tongue

Hath so betray'd thine act: being done unknown,

I should have found it afterwards well done;

But must condemn it now. Desist, and drink.

MENAS

[Aside] For this,

I'll never follow thy pall'd fortunes more.

Who seeks, and will not take when once 'tis offer'd,

Shall never find it more.

It's a remarkable moment; for a few moments the fate of the empire is in the balance. And Pompey makes his decision on political rather than moral grounds. Menas' last remark is prophetic, as well: Pompey would very shortly be turned on by Octavius, defeated by his admiral, Agrippa in the Straits of Messina, and ultimately captured and executed.

The complexity of Shakespeare's poetry is always astonishing. It seems that with every reading, more is revealed. Some have found the demands placed on them as readers to be excessive. It can be hard work, granted. But always, the effort proves to be worthwhile. In other words, what we eventually will find in the convoluted syntax and dazzling rhetoric is wisdom and beauty. Something else we have to keep in mind: serious artists work at their crafts very hard and very often. They are not interested in repeating themselves. We therefore shouldn't be surprised if we have to do some background labour to keep up - using glossaries, references, criticism, and so on. Here's another excerpt from Antony and Cleopatra. Here, a messenger is notifying Octavius that Sextus Pompeius (Pompey), the son of the late Gnaeus Pompeius, a member of the first triumvirate (with Crassus and Julius Caesar), is rapidly gaining popularity and therefore strength in his naval powers. Caesar's response regarding the vagaries of popularity is remarkable both in style and content:

MESSENGER

... Pompey is strong at sea;

And it appears he is beloved of those

That only have fear'd Caesar: to the ports

The discontents repair, and men's reports

Give him much wrong'd.

OCTAVIUS

I should have known no less.

It hath been taught us from the primal state,

That he which is was wish'd until he were;

And the ebb'd man, ne'er loved till ne'er worth love,

Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common body,

Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream,

Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide,

To rot itself with motion.