ANTONY         [to Ventidius] If we compose well here, to Parthia.

Hark, Ventidius.

CAESAR                                  I do not know,

Maecenas; ask Agrippa.

LEPIDUS         [to Caesar and Antony] Noble friends,

That which combined us was most great; and let not

A leaner action rend us. What’s amiss,

May it be gently heard. When we debate

Our trivial difference loud, we do commit

Murder in healing wounds. Then, noble partners,

The rather for I earnestly beseech,

Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms,

Nor curstness grow to th’ matter.   (2.2.15-25)

Not quite playground tactics, but certainly bar-room or board-room, two men asserting their own status—I am very busy and important, I have to continue this vital discussion to the exclusion of everything else—by engaging determinedly in conversation with their companions rather than notice and speak to each other. Antony’s talking about the possible outcome of the meeting, if we compose well here, if we can get this sorted out, come to an agreement, then we’ll head to Parthia (places to go, people to see, busy busy, can’t stop here); Ventidius might move towards Caesar in the expectation that they’re going to speak, even, leading Antony to call him back: Hark, Ventidius, listen to me. They might whisper together, busy and important and top secret. Two can play at that game, and Caesar does, no, I do not know, Maecenas (I’m far too busy and important to bother myself with such minutiae); ask Agrippa.

So Lepidus has to take charge, all too aware of the games that are being played and how they could go on and on. Noble friends—he makes them equals, gentlemen, appeals to their honour—that which combined us was most great, he says, the formation of the triumvirate to give stability to the empire after the assassination of Julius Caesar and the ensuing civil war. Let not a leaner action rend us; we mustn’t allow that union to be torn apart by petty differences of opinion and rivalries. (Speak for yourself, Lepidus, always the underdog in the arrangement.) What’s amiss, may it be gently heard: the disagreements that we have must be aired reasonably and courteously; by gently he’s suggesting not just a low-key approach, non-confrontational, but gentle as in gentlemanlike—it’s another appeal to honour and civility that would be entirely intelligible to an early modern audience. When we debate our trivial difference loud, we do commit murder in healing wounds. There’s nothing to be gained by our shouting at each other—it’s such a trivial, minor dispute that we have to settle (Lepidus is over-egging things a bit here)—it just makes it worse, murders when it should heal. Turns the knife, rubs salt into wounds. Then, noble partners (noble again, and reminding Antony and Caesar that they are partners, equals with each other, and with him too, at least formally), the rather for I earnestly beseech—because I’m asking you very, very nicely—touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms; discuss even the most bitter and entrenched of your differences with courtesy; sugar the pill, keep it civil. Nor curstness grow to th’ matter: don’t add insult to injury, don’t make a tricky situation worse by being contrary, intemperate, angry. Pretty please?