MENAS           Wilt thou be lord of all the world?

POMPEY         What sayst 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 dar’st be, the earthly Jove.

Whate’er the ocean pales or sky inclips

Is thine, if thou wilt ha’t.

POMPEY                     Show me which way!            (2.7.56-64)

Zoom, boom, back to Menas and Pompey, having their intense, whispered confab on the edge of the party. (Except they can be in the midst of it, what matters is that others are—perhaps—oblivious; it can work if Enobarbus clocks what’s going on, or even Antony.) Wilt thou be lord of all the world? says the pirate to the rebel. What? What say’st thou? What are you on about? Wilt thou be lord of the whole world? Do you want to come out on top of all this after all, to be in control of the entire Roman empire? That’s twice I’ve asked you, now. How should that be? (Is Pompey expressing incredulity, or saying, in effect, tell me more?) But entertain it, says Menas, just have a think about it, don’t dismiss it out of hand. And, though thou think me poor—yes I know you do, I’m just the hired muscle, a bloody pirate, you don’t rate me as a strategist or a politician—I am still the man will give thee all the world. I can do it, I can win this for you. Just say the world. Hast thou drunk well? Are you pissed out of your mind, is this the drink, talking? Menas can reply with an edge, no, I haven’t touched a drop, despite appearances, what kind of amateur do you take me for? No, Pompey, I have kept me from the cup. (Unlike you?) I’m telling you, thou art, if thou dar’st be, the earthly Jove. A bit of a needle in if thou dar’st—have you got it in you? have you got the guts to go for it, to be a god on earth, supreme above all the rest? Have you got it in you to seize that power, so that whate’er the ocean pales, the whole land, from sea to sea, coast to coast (paled, bounded by the ocean) or sky enclips, everything, in fact, under the sky’s canopy, so that it’s all yours? All of it? If you’ll have it, if you’ll go for it, take a chance? Because it could be yours for the taking. Show me which way! says Pompey. And again it could be incredulous: how, exactly? (The exclamation mark is editorial, it makes a difference.) Or it could be excited, perhaps with a note of caution: go on, then, tell me how. I’m all ears…