Tony and Cleop Act Three Scene Nine Sub-Scene Two

 

Act Three

Scene Nine

Sub-Scene Two

The turning tide

 

Caesar learned of Mark Antony’s boys at the city limit. It was open country, and with little cover, Mark Antony had selected the best areas to mount the ambush. He knew of this from his own messengers and infiltrated into the other side. He read the report of Mark Antony’s so-named fleet to attack from sea. Caesar’s fleet was still unassembled and some ships were inbounded along the coasts, which he had then told them to sail to two ports that he knew were able to fortify. He had learned that the Queen’s fleet of river boats, most of which were ready by the river mouths,

“We are not a naval fleet.” Caesar told his boys. “Heck, the only time we ever went to sea was to fish or hold parties.”

“The battle has called us to battle there. I have no frigates or battleships. The admirals of the navy may have, but unknown to him, I have able sailors. Say you are, bloody pillages from the sea.” Caesar looked at the group on the smaller boats. Those were pirates, if such a rank existed then; they raided the ships on the high sea and, most times, took the loot of money there. Or extorted from the ship owner the ransom. Yes, they dumped a few hostages into the sea, but they were the defiant ones, or they may think they outswim the sharks.

“Boys, or rather, you prefer to be called seamen. I need to see your colors on the sea today.” Caesar launched his ragtag fleet, but they were armed with something new.

Howitzers.

The United Kingdom's preparations were largely guided by its experience in the Second Boer War of 1899–1902. The British purchased the field guns that the Boers had used against them and used them as prototypes for their own weapons. Soon the British mounted the guns for merchant ships in the Great War against the U-Boats by the Germans. The 76mm 12 pounders were to be used, or the 4.7-inch guns preferred.

“Good old Churchill. Bless that fat man to be the Prime Minister one day with his foresight.” Boom! The cannon roared on the deck of a small ship named Pompous.

On the land, Caesar split his group of boys into two. Thirty-five followed him on the T-Ford, armed with Tommy Guns. He had some old army types with the experience of handling the grenades there.

The grenade's effectiveness in attacking enemy positions during the trench warfare of the Great War led to it becoming a standard part of the war. These grenades were made of brass, iron, and steel, some with handles made of wood and even cardboard. They went by many names: Battye bombs, Citron Foug, Newton-Pippin, Petard, Besozzi, Kugel, Cigaro, and Sigwart, and took on many shapes. But in Rome, they were named ‘Caesar’s Love.”

It was love at last heard, of the grenade dropped at the feet.

All of these were the leftovers of Pompey’s goods at the Sea Port.

Taurus, based on the instructions of Caesar, took the other direction to flank the enemies. He had 41 boys who were similarly armed.

“Boys, we are playing the Seventh Calvary now.” Taurus told them. “We drive in fast, shoot them, and then get the heck out of Dodger City.”

It all went well, or rather, too bloody well.

“Lost, lost, all is lost!” Enobarbus retreated on the T-Ford, with his driver stepping on the pedal then. “Can you not drive any faster?”

“I am, Boss.”

“I cannot watch it any longer," Enobarbus screamed. He had seen the sea battle report. Mark Antony’s fleet was destroyed when Egypt’s fleet, led by the eunuch, withdrew on sight of the guns.

“Bloody cowards they were!’ Mark had cursed at them. But who cares then? Mardian on the Antoniad, the Egyptian flagship, along with the sixty other ships, have turned around and fled the battle.

“We are destroyed. It destroys my eyes to see it.” Enobarbus shouted. He saw the other T-Ford, which pulled up alongside. It was another lieutenant of Mark Antony, Scarus.

“What is troubling you? Crocodile bit your arse?” Scarus heard the other. He was driving the T-Ford; his driver was dead back at the ambush. He is a short figure, slim, but had a bad temper and a stronger knife, fighting kills.

“The whole battle was screwed up due to poor intelligence or extreme ignorance. We have lost our kingdoms and provinces.” Scarus shouted above the noise of the vehicle's engine. “Fuck the Queen!”

“Get in line. How did you fare?” Enobarbus asked.

“On our side, it is as if we have been struck with the plague, which means that death is sure to come.” Scarus cursed. “Dark plague it was.”

“That lustful old Egyptian mare for a slut—let leprosy strike her down! In the very midst of the fight, when the advantage appeared to be even, or rather greater, on our side, her boys acted like cows in June, driven by a slight wind, and hoisted sail and fled the battle. I was down to one-third of the strength, and our arses were split by the grenades.”

“Whoever thought they would bring the grenades to a fight?” Scarus cursed. “I might as well bring my ladies knickers to the fight. Enobarbus, there are rules.”

“I saw that. It made me sick to watch it happen, and I could not counter, so I called for the retreat. It was hard to watch it any longer.”

“Once the Queen had prepared her ships to leave, Antony... our noble boss, who has been destroyed by her charm... hoisted his sails as well and, like an overfuck duck, left the battle at its very height and flew after her.” Scarus cursed. “I had never seen such shameful behaviour. Never has any man betrayed his better knowledge, his manhood; that was probably taken away, and honour so severely lost.”

“Alas... alas... we are to our hideaway now.” The T-Fords pulled into the café by the road.

It was the assembled area for the ambush and retreat point in the event of a failure.

Massacre was more of a term.

Candidius was there, and he was fuming mad.

“We came, we saw, and we fucking lost two-thirds of our boys. I was told they have lost their advantage at sea too. They were blown off the tides by those howitzers.” Candidius tossed the empty clip from the Tommy Gun.

“We had them in our sight, and then our prospects for success went backwards to decrease depressingly quickly. If our boss had been true to himself, the battle would have gone well for us. He knew nothing and did nothing to help us.”

“Oh, he has set an example for us to abandon him, as he so disgustingly abandoned us!” Candidius tossed the gun then.

“Ah, are you thinking that too? Well, then, it really is over now.” Enobarbus sighed. “Widows will cry tonight.”

“The other boys fled toward Philly.” Candidius said.

"Philly, it is then. It is easy to get there, and I will wait there to see what comes next.” Scarus saluted Enobarbus and drove off.

“I am off from Mark Antony. I will offer my services to Caesar's service. If I stay on, I will be dead. It is better to yield than to die.” Candidius then left, leaving Enobarbus standing there. He saw more vehicles taking off from there.

“O, why should nature build so foul a den unless the gods delight in tragedies?” (Titus Andronicus, Act 4, Scene 1). Enobarbus sighed. It was the passage when Titus was sad that Lavinia was raped. He felt so let down that the boys had to die in the battle. “Victory has a thousand fathers, but defeat is an orphan.”

“My mind may not agree with my older bones'; it is one soft tissue compared to the two hundred of the bones in me, but I will stick with Antony and his diminished chances for now, even though I'm acting against my better judgment.” Enobarbus sighed.