CAESAR Let our best heads
Know that tomorrow the last of many battles
We mean to fight. Within our files there are,
Of those that served Mark Antony but late,
Enough to fetch him in. See it done,
And feast the army. We have store to do’t,
And they have earned the waste. Poor Antony!
Exeunt (4.1.10-16)
As far as Caesar is concerned, this is the endgame, and he’s expecting it to be straightforward; his orders are matter-of-fact too. Let our best heads know—the relevant, high-ranking officers (Caesar is all about order and hierarchy, the cascading of intel on a need-to-know basis)—that tomorrow the last of many battles we mean to fight. This will be the deciding battle of the war, and we’re going to win, no ifs no buts; it’s a certainty. (These wars have been an unfortunate but necessary interruption to Caesar’s plans for technocratic world domination.) Within our files there are, of those that served Mark Antony but late, enough to fetch him in. A touch of meanness here, not just noting that Caesar’s troops have been swelled by large numbers of those who have only recently deserted Antony—but also that it’s they in particular who are going to surround and capture him. See it done—simple as that—and feast the army. Feast them in celebration? in anticipation? to get them wholly on side? All three, possibly, and also as an indication of confidence and dominance: victory over Antony is a dead cert even if half the troops are hung over. We have store to do’t—another confident assertion; we’re incredibly well provisioned, plenty of cash—and the troops have earned the waste: they deserve a treat, a bit of a party, a reward. Poor Antony! It can be gloating—but there can also be a note of genuine regret. Caesar’s fascinated by Antony, and has at times idolized him, mourning his failings and his fall. It’s come to this, and it’s all over now, Caesar thinks. No mention of Cleopatra though. In contrast to the fraught, passionate, extended scene which preceded it, this is lean, efficient, swift, affectless.