Antony and Cleopatra
“Antony and Cleopatra are just a pair of infatuated old sots,” I argued with no-one in particular, slick with the lubrication of faint inebriation, “Not a character else in the entire play thinks otherwise. They’re not in love at all, there’s never any indication that each wants the other for anything more than the satisfaction of their own insecurity and neediness. They spend most of their time squabbling and squalling and running each other through and through over petty things- when they’re not making ridiculously hyperbolical demonstrations of their ‘love’ for the benefit of everyone else. Their relationship is solely characterised by the twin themes of selfishness and self-loathing. Antony marries someone else for no better reason than convenience! Cleopatra only keeps her end of their little suicide pact because she’s more or less forced into it, and Antony can’t even kill himself without botching the job! The pair of them don’t have a shred of dignity between them! Eh? What d’you mean by it? What are you even talking about?! That’s not love, that’s just rubbish!”
“But the poetry, my dear boy,” murmured my wise old tutor plaintively, peering owlishly at me over his thick glasses, “The poetry!”