Antony and Cleopatra is a tragedy where the leading characters see the writing on the wall from the first scene – but they had been doing most of the writing.  (Someone else used that line.)

The play begins with a soldier bemoaning that Antony has succumbed to ‘a gypsy’s lust.’  The two lovers have a lot in common, and are made to detonate each other, but I will concentrate on Antony – for reasons we will come to.

Antony is leading member of the ruling class and believes that he is destined for greatness.  He is of the kind that likes the term ‘destiny’ – something of an actor.  We could not say that he was born to the purple, because his nemesis, Octavian, had not yet become emperor and invested that office with that colour.

He very much focuses on himself.  That is part of being an actor – a star in fact.

He has rarely in his life, public or private, been checked or held responsible.  Is he fit for the day-to-day business of government?

The trouble is that he is a playboy.  (An older English critic said he was a ‘sportsman’.)  He is a fighter, a womaniser, and he loves the company of strong men.

He badly overestimates his capacity to govern.  Fighting battles and wars is not hard if you have the equipment.  Running government, or, more importantly, surviving in faction fights that get you there, are very different.  That requires patience and judgment. 

Antony is short on both.  And his indulgence in the gay life, his self-interest, and his lack of being held to heel, make him a bad bet for political office.

He and his partner have very short fuses.  But both Antony and Cleopatra can be flighty and ill-tempered when they do not get their way.

They are like spoiled children who live in their own world.  It is one of delusion, a form of retreat.  You wonder whether they take their masks off even in bed.

They can be downright cruel to those under them – which is almost everyone.

Antony is a gambler and a reckless decision maker.  So is Cleopatra.  But they are both bad losers, and whimper that they are victims when they are down.  (They might each attract from a psychiatrist a query about manic depression.)

Antony can proudly disdain accepting advice from those who know.

As such, he is a sitting duck for the cool, calculating numbers man – and Octavian is the prototype.  (Gibbon called him ‘the crafty tyrant’).  Octavian wipes the political floor with Antony and his mistress.

His close subordinates are apt to desert him and walk away – in a world that puts loyalty before all else.

He can get into shocking domestic fights with his bed partner, who mirrors many of his traits.  (And in those days, there were no police to call for a ‘domestic.’)

And he is capable of losing it – just cracking – under pressure – as is his mistress also.

The two key terms are excess and vanity – or emptiness.  Tony Tanner said that they were most themselves when playing themselves.

You can make your own comparison of Antony and Boris Johnson.  I specifically exclude any comparison of Carrie with Cleopatra. 

But at least Antony was a real soldier and general – and a man’s man. 

Boris is consigned to the realm of Bozo the Clown.