Enter a Soldier
ANTONY How now, worthy soldier?
SOLDIER O, noble Emperor, do not fight by sea.
Trust not to rotten planks. Do you misdoubt
This sword and these my wounds? Let th’Egyptians
And the Phoenicians go a-ducking; we
Have used to conquer standing on the earth,
And fighting foot to foot.
ANTONY Well, well; away!
Exeunt Antony, Cleopatra, and Enobarbus (3.7.60-66)
Not so much a messenger, this one, as an emissary: he’s sometimes identified as Scarus, who will make another appearance later on, but if he’s an anonymous foot-soldier—of the kind already alluded to by Enobarbus—then his impact is greater, because here’s an ordinary member of Antony’s troops, begging him to reconsider. Antony doesn’t seem to know him—how now, worthy soldier?—simply greeting him as one soldier to another. What are you doing here? And the man is respectful and courteous, addressing Antony as noble Emperor even as he tells him that he is categorically in the wrong, that he must abandon this disastrous course of action. Do not fight by sea. Just don’t. It’s a terrible idea. Trust not to rotten planks. It’s not just that this man is a soldier, not a sailor, adamant that one must not place one’s confidence and life at the mercy of the elements, let alone a ship itself (nasty tub)—do you misdoubt this sword and these my wounds? I’m loyal, a veteran, brave and battle-scarred in your service—it’s also that fighting at sea is simply not the Roman way, at least not as he sees it. Let th’Egyptians and the Phoenicians go a-ducking. Messing about in boats (and falling overboard, inevitably) that’s for foreigners, with their funny ways. We have used to conquer standing on the earth, and fighting foot to foot. That’s the Roman soldier’s way, the man’s way, your feet firmly grounded, looking your opponent in the eye, disciplined and unflinching. No way that Antony can answer that (Well, well; away! we’re out of here, sorry, love to talk but no time) but it’s not a good look, brushing aside such an honest, brave, principled objection.