Enter Antony and Canidius

ENOBARBUS              Nay, I have done.

Here comes the Emperor.

ANTONY                                 Is it not strange, Canidius,

That from Tarentum and Brundisium

He could so quickly cut the Ionian Sea

And take in Toryne?—You have heard on’t, sweet?

CLEOPATRA  Celerity is never more admired

Than by the negligent.

ANTONY                     A good rebuke,

Which might have well becomed the best of men

To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we

Will fight with him by sea.

CLEOPATRA  By sea—what else?

CANIDIUS      Why will my lord do so?

ANTONY                     For that he dares us to’t.       (3.7.19-29)

 

Canidius, appearing for the first time, a further encroachment of soldiering and politics into the play; clearly a trusted follower of Antony but not part of Cleopatra’s world. As with Cleopatra and Enobarbus a few lines earlier, Antony and Canidius enter deep in conversation, as Enobarbus says, nay, I have done, I give up then—either because he doesn’t want Antony to see him trying to persuade Cleopatra, or else because he knows it’s pointless. Here comes the Emperor (and the title could be ironic—Caesar had demoted Antony by this stage—but doesn’t have to be). Things aren’t going well in the war and Antony is on the back foot; he can’t quite believe it. Is it not strange, Canidius, that from Tarentum and Brundisium he could so quickly cut the Ionian Sea and take in Toryne? He, of course, is Caesar; he’s been making all the running, swiftly moving his troops to occupy coastal towns and ports around the Adriatic and establishing his dominance, and in particular his readiness for a naval battle. (A reminder that the scene’s set in Actium, in north-west Greece.)

 

No greeting to Cleopatra, although there could of course be a gesture on Antony’s entrance, but he does bring her into the conversation, pretty perfunctorily: you have heard on’t, sweet? Are you up to speed with this? She replies with a smart, sarcastic aphorism, celerity is never more admired than by the negligent, its balance and poise, its rhythmic polysyllables and assonance (celerity/negligent) entirely characteristic but also entirely at odds with the fast, fact-y strategizing in which Antony’s engaged. She couldn’t be interrupting more, disrupting more, if she tried—and that’s even before the needling, well, I don’t know why you’re surprised, it’s your fault for not being quick enough off the mark. It’s not that Caesar was fast, it’s that you were slow, negligent, caught off-guard. Your fault, not his skill. And Antony takes it well, it seems: a good rebuke, which might have well becomed the best of men to taunt at slackness. Fair enough, he caught us napping, we’ve got to do better, and I’d take that criticism from anyone. (It is quickly becoming apparent that Enobarbus is probably right: Antony gives Cleopatra too much freedom, allows her to distract him, take advantage. He takes her views into account, when she has no experience in military strategy.)

 

A decision: Canidius, we will fight with him by sea. There could be an outraged, panicked glance between Canidius and Enobarbus, but Cleopatra is all for it: by sea—what else? what other possible course would there be? (She could be being ironic, of course, but probably not; she’s excited at the prospect of a naval battle.) Why will my lord do so? Canidius is delicate, courteous, even as he (and Enobarbus) may well want to scream, why on earth would anyone want to do that? it’s mad, stupid, absolutely the wrong decision; you’re not prepared or properly equipped, we haven’t planned for this. But Antony’s adamant: for that he dares us to’t. Caesar’s challenging us and calling our bluff, this is about honour, courage, not blinking first.