POMPEY         This is not yet an Alexandrian feast.

ANTONY         It ripens towards it. Strike the vessels, ho!

Here’s to Caesar!

CAESAR                      I could well forbear’t.

It’s monstrous labour when I wash my brain,

An it grow fouler.

ANTONY                     Be a child o’th’ time.

CAESAR          Possess it, I’ll make answer.

But I had rather fast from all, four days,

Than drink so much in one.             (2.7.87-95)

Pompey’s making the best of things, it seems, and now he’s here to party. This is not yet an Alexandrian feast, though, he observes, optimistically; he wants scenes of Egyptian excess like the ones he’s heard of, total debauchery. It’s going that way, though, suggests Antony, it ripens towards it; give it just a little longer, and strike the vessels, ho! That could mean to clink goblets—cheers!—or else open more barrels of drink. In either sense, the motivation is the same: let’s really get this party going! Here’s to Caesar! And so Caesar (who’s been largely silent in the scene thus far) is now the focus—and he’s reluctant; he doesn’t want to be the centre of attention, and he doesn’t want to down his drink. I could well forbear’t, he says, I’d really rather pass on this one. It’s monstrous labour when I wash my brain, and it grows fouler. He’s not having a good time, he’s feeling decidedly queasy, and he doesn’t like being out of control; this isn’t fun, it’s work. Drinking—to get drunker than he already is—is monstrous labour, it’s a chore, and it makes him a monster, irrational, an animal, and also a spectacle, being gawped at; he’s aware he’s making an exhibition of himself, or about to. And that labour and that feeling of unease is only getting fouler. He really is starting to feel sick, physically, and at his own actions. Tough, says Antony, you’re here and you’ve got to participate fully; just go with it. Be a child o’th’ time. When in Rome, in effect. (Although child of the time might also be a slight needle at the younger Caesar: are you not old enough for this, then, not up to playing with the big boys, not as much of a man as you like to pretend? Up past your bedtime?) Caesar’s enough of a pragmatist, and ambitious enough, to know that he doesn’t have much of a choice, although editors differ here in their interpretation (and punctuation). Is he saying ‘possess it’, no thanks, I’d rather be in control of the time than subject to circumstance; that’d be my answer? Or is he saying, possess it then, you drink first and I’ll match you, I’ll make answer, I’ll reciprocate. Either way, he’s a reluctant drinker at this point, and he’s already anticipating the hangover: I had rather fast from all, four days—food and drink, the lot, I’d rather go without for four days than drink so much in one. The implication might be that this party is consuming at least four days’ worth of drink, and food, in one go; perhaps Caesar the bureaucrat is even keeping an eye on supplies, converting what he’s seeing consumed into multiples of army rations.