That tongue of his that bade the Romans
Mark him and write his speeches in their books,
Alas, it cried ‘Give me some drink, Titinius,’
As a sick girl.
(I. ii. 125.)
A pretty saying to chronicle. He says superbly to Mark Antony, “Always I am Caesar”; and in the very next line follows the anticlimax:
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf.
(I. ii. 213.)
But if his physical defects, which after all have little to do with the real greatness of the man save in the eyes of spiteful detractors, are thus brought into satirical relief, much more is this the case with his mental and moral failings, which of course concern the heart of his character.
Already on his first appearance, we see this lord of the world the credulous believer in magic rites. At the Lupercal he enjoins Calpurnia to “stand directly in Antonius’ way” and Antony to touch her in his “holy chase” (i. ii. 3 and 8), and he impresses on Antony the observance of all the ritual: “Leave no ceremony out” (i. ii. 11). It was not ever thus. The time has been when he held these things at their true value, and it is only recently, as watchful eyes take note, that his attitude has changed.