POMPEY I know not, Menas,
How lesser enmities may give way to greater.
Were’t not that we stand up against them all,
’Twere pregnant they should square between themselves,
For they have entertained cause enough
To draw their swords. But how the fear of us
May cement their divisions, and bind up
The petty difference, we yet not know.
Be’t as our gods will have’t; it only stands
Our lives upon to use our strongest hands.
Come, Menas.
Exeunt (2.1.42-52)
Pompey finally demonstrates some political savvy, although it’s still bound up with a kind of boastfulness too: we’ve got to be cautious, because I know not how lesser enmities may give way to greater. It’s perfectly true that Lepidus, Antony, and Octavius Caesar don’t get on, that they have cause not to trust each other, but they’re well capable of putting aside their differences in order to unite against a larger threat, that is, ME. Were’t not that we stand up against them all, threatened all of them together, ’twere pregnant they should square between themselves, extremely likely, the obvious thing, that they’d come to blows amongst themselves, because heaven only knows they’ve given each other cause enough to draw their swords. They’ve been spoiling for a fight, provoking each other and picking quarrels with each other all three of them for long enough. But how the fear of us may cement their divisions, and bind up the petty difference, we yet not know. That’s Pompey’s power, though, and he’s actually quite pleased about it, for all his political and military wariness: he’s enough of a threat not only to get Antony out of bed, but to unite (however temporarily) the squabbling, warring triumvirate, cement their divisions, and bind up the petty difference. For how long, though, and with what effects—that’s still unknown. So we just have to roll with it, don’t we? And Pompey now adopts the ‘it’s in the hands of the gods’ attitude promulgated by Menecrates at the beginning of the scene. Be’t as our gods will have’t, he says, whatever is the divine will. All we can do is fight, fight for our lives. It only stands our lives upon to use our strongest hands. That’s the bottom line now, and with a firm couplet and an authoritative command to Menas, Pompey ends the scene.