LEPIDUS                     ’Tis pity of him.

CAESAR          Let his shames quickly

Drive him to Rome. ’Tis time we twain

Did show ourselves i’th’ field; and to that end

Assemble we immediate council. Pompey

Thrives in our idleness.

LEPIDUS                     Tomorrow, Caesar,

I shall be furnished to inform you rightly

Both what by sea and land I can be able

To front this present time.

CAESAR                      Till which encounter,

It is my business, too. Farewell.

LEPIDUS         Farewell, my lord. What you shall know meantime

Of stirs abroad I shall beseech you, sir,

To let me be partaker.

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

Exeunt (1.4.73-85)

 

Lepidus seems prepared still to be a little more indulgent of Antony; to him this is a matter for regret and even sympathy, ’tis pity of him, that it’s come to this, that Antony’s fallen so far. Tut tut, more in sorrow than in anger, still. Caesar is more robust: it’s not pitiable, it’s shameful, what he’s been up to, what he’s become, and so let his shames quickly drive him to Rome. Let’s hope that he too is ashamed, and motivated by that shame to make amends by returning to his responsibilities here. And Caesar is also decisive: he’s had two news bulletins and it’s time for action: ’tis time we twain did show ourselves i’th’ field. It’s time for us to meet Pompey in battle, engage in open warfare. We can’t wait any longer, and therefore, assemble we immediate council. We need to get on a war footing, call a council of war. Pompey thrives in our idleness: while we do nothing, he’s getting away with his acts of aggression, with being the one driving the agenda—and by accusing himself and Lepidus of idleness, Caesar’s aligning them with a quality now more associated with Antony, which he has just been condemning so censoriously.

 

An important note for Lepidus here: he can’t be a fool and a dotard, because he has to be capable of saying, believably, that tomorrow, Caesar, I shall be furnished to inform you rightly both what by sea and land I can be able to front this present time. That is, give me 24 hours, and I’ll have the numbers, the troops and the ships. He’s precise and confident that he can muster and command significant support—and he gets in, saying that, before Caesar even asks him. One up to Lepidus, at least on this occasion. Till which encounter, it is my business too, is all that Caesar can reply; I’ll do the same, see you tomorrow. And Lepidus pushes his advantage home: what you shall know meantime of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir. I was perfectly aware that you were prepared to cut me out of the comms loop, those messengers reporting just to you. Please don’t do that; just don’t. You’ll fill me in when we meet tomorrow, won’t you? Caesar, perhaps through gritted teeth: doubt it not, sir. I knew it for my bond. Would I do a thing like that? Of course I’ll keep you informed. I’m obliged to. Scout’s honour.

 

They exit, presumably in different directions. A united front, a team, but not an equal or straightforward one.