Shakespeare & the Satirical Slander
In nature’s infinite book of secrecy, a little I can read.
“In nature’s infinite book of secrecy, a little I can read.” — Antony & Cleopatra, Act I, Scene 2.
No one does satire like Shakespeare… I think. Honestly, the extent to which certain of these plays were meant as satire versus sincere is pretty hotly debated. But reading Romeo & Juliet and Antony & Cleopatra back-to-back, suggests Shakespeare had quite the sense of humor (and that’s to say nothing of his dexterity with lewd puns).
While Romeo & Juliet shows us immature love burning with a passion that cannot be sustained. A love so pure that it reconciles warring families. Antony & Cleopatra shows us two of histories most powerful people destroying themselves (and their kingdoms). And, unlike our teenage lovers,1 these people were old enough to know better.
But before we go further, I do have a confession. For this particular book report, I watched the film instead of reading the play, so my analysis is going to be colored by the directorial choices in the visuals and performance as well as how they edited down the play (the plays are always edited down, by the way). I watched the National Theatre Live at Home adaptation from 2018 and it was brilliant. Funny and heartbreaking. The director made bold and sure-footed choices to showcase Antony as a washed-up layabout and Cleopatra as a melodramatic, toxic side-piece. But that isn’t too great a leap from the source material.
The Shake-Scene
Before we even meet the lovers, we hear that Antony, once so power as to be thought “the triple pillar of the world,” has been “transformed into a strumpet’s fool.” Not the nicest description of Cleo, but we get the point. Antony is whipped and everyone knows it. And then a soothsayer arrives but doesn’t bother to offer predictions that might avert the tragedy. Perhaps that’s because it doesn’t take divine intervention to see that everyone is headed for tragedy.
A messenger has come from Rome. At first, Antony petulantly refuses to hear the message. Instead, showering Cleopatra with declarations of love. But, once they’re separated, he allows the messenger to speak. It turns out that, while the once-great Marc Antony lounged in the arms of Cleopatra, his wife Fulvia joined with his brother to try to overthrow Caesar. Caesar is not happy. Then, a second messenger appears to tell Antony that his wife has died. This news resolves Antony to break it off with Cleopatra and return to Rome.
For her part, Cleo is playing games. She bids for Antony and then leaves to avoid seeing him. She tells her servants that, if he’s sad, tell him she’s dancing, but if he’s happy, say she’s sick. Now, it must be said, this is pretty toxic girlfriend behavior. However, it reminds me of a relatively new adage: “Behind every crazy woman is a man who made her that way.” And Antony… well… we’ll get to that in Act II.
Antony goes to tell Cleopatra he plans to leave. She anticipates he plans to return to his wife (or have her come to him) and Cleo taunts him. But, once Antony is able to get a word in edgewise, he explains that Italy is in civil war and his wife has died. After more cajoling, Cleopatra gives him permission to leave.
And here, I am reminded of a recent country song: ‘I can’t love you more than my hometown.’ One of a million ways for this tragedy to have been avoided would be for Antony to stay in Egypt. But he can’t love Cleo more than he loves Rome.
Back in Rome, Octavius Caesar is big mad that Antony has not come to his aid, while Antony’s wife and brother attack Caesar’s forces. He’s fighting off Pompey alone and demands his bro back him up. And in Egypt, Antony sends Cleopatra a pearl and she decides to write him a letter every day that he is gone. Romantic or obsessive? That’s a directorial choice…
Once Antony arrives in Rome, he makes peace with Caesar… and agrees to cement that peace by marrying Caesar’s sister. As they go off to celebrate, a member of the court tells us of the extravagant way Cleopatra entered the city to meet Antony for the first time. The one who suggested Antony marry Caesar’s sister laments that Antony must leave Cleopatra. But the other courtier tells him that will never happen. Uh oh…
And by the next scene, a Soothsayer comes to assure us tragedy is forthcoming. She tells Antony he never should have come to Rome and that he should return to Egypt. Duh. And Antony does, saying “I will to Egypt. And though I make this marriage for my peace, [in the] East my pleasure lies.” But yeah, Cleo is the problem.
However, things fare no better with our paragon of good judgment. A messenger tells Cleopatra that Antony has married another, and she beats him. Like really beats him. And then pulls a knife and he runs away. He’s convinced to return (idiot) and she asks him repeatedly if Antony is married, and he repeatedly tells her it is true. Talk about a glutton for punishment. She then sends off her servants to bring back a report on what this new wife looks like (don’t lie, we’ve all done it).
This might be a good time to stop and once again compare our pair of lovers. Romeo and Juliet, our teenage lovers, fall deeply in love and try to move mountains to be together. They seek the help of people older and wiser, and put their trust in them. Antony and Cleopatra, our old-enough-to-know-better lovers, resort to games and sneaking too hook up without having to sacrifice ego or position. And again I ask, farce?
In Italy, a treaty is reached between Caesar and his adversary Pompey, the war is over, but, alas, that is not the end of our play. Antony takes his blushing bride, Caesar’s sister, and leaves for Athens… inching closer to the embrace of Egypt.
In Egypt, the much-abused messenger returns to Cleopatra to describe how hideous Antony’s new wife is. Thank goodness Cleo didn’t have Instagram. There would’ve been blood. *Checks notes* Oh, right… more on that in a bit.
Caesar breaks his treaty with Pompey and begins to badmouth Antony. Caesar’s sister leaves Antony to go negotiate a truce between them. But, by the time she gets to Rome, Antony has left for Egypt. War breaks out between Caesar and Antony (and no one is surprised). Antony is advised his forces should not to fight at sea but does so at Cleopatra’s urging. He then abandons the battle to follow her when she takes flight. His army begins to desert him. Not that anyone blames them.
Caesar refuses to negotiate peace with Antony but sends a messenger to woo Cleopatra away from him. Antony has this messenger whipped for kissing Cleopatra’s hand. Not a great play for messengers… But, Antony wins a battle and celebrates… only to have his ships desert him for Caesar. And, as any great lover would do, he blames Cleopatra and vows to kill her.
Farce? Anyone? Farce?
In a dark echo of Juliet, Cleopatra flees to her monument and sends word to Antony that she is dead. Antony hears the news and attempts to end his life, but can’t quite manage to get that right. And then he hears Cleopatra is actually alive and asks to be brought to her. In what must have been a painfully elongated affair given the technology of the early modern theater, Antony is hoisted up onto the monument and dies beside Cleopatra.
Caesar captures Cleopatra, meaning to take her on a march of shame through Rome. But, an Egyptian countryman brings an asp (poisonous snake) hidden in a basket of figs, and she takes her life to be spared the shame. And, as she dies, the poison on her lips kills one of her attendants. Can I interest anyone in a metaphor?
And thus ends the tale of Antony & Cleopatra. In the First Folio (the first compendium of Shakespeare’s plays), the play is categorized with the tragedies, while Shakespeare’s other great farce (Taming of the Shrew) is a comedy. Where would you categorize it?
Speak the Speech, I Pray You
Bring Shakespeare’s words into your own life by:
Coyly intimidating a work rival by suggesting you have superior information;
Dressing as a fortune teller and spooking people at the pier;
And… granting important online dating information to the ignorant youths.
(and no, I didn’t plan the sound of my dog walking down the stairs; she’s just that much of a paw0-essional)
Additional Resources
Find a copy of the entire play here.
Watch the National Theatre Live At Home production here.
View related artwork from the Folger Shakespeare Library collection here.
Check out the book I’m reading about thefts of Shakespeare’s First Folios here.
Admittedly, we don’t know how old Romeo is supposed to be. The text doesn’t say. I’ve seen anything from 16 to 21.