Sometimes I think that those in charge of productions forget that (a) we live on a rock in the North Atlantic and (b) Shakespeare’s Globe is exposed to the elements. I have rarely felt such sympathy for actors as I did at today’s freezing, rainy performance of Antony and Cleopatra, shivering even though I was warmly dressed and watching Eve Best, Sirine Saba and Rosie Hilal scamper about the stage in skimpy “Egyptian” draperies, being rained on at every turn and, in the case of the latter two, with dirty costumes throughout due to the directorial choice to end the pre-show dance rolling around on the stage. I hope someone was waiting backstage with warm robes and copious quantities of tea.

I have a love/hate relationship with the Globe. Not so much with the theatre and its management, as I usually enjoy the productions themselves, but its status as a tourist attraction means that quite a lot of the patrons are not particularly interested in theatre and/or do not speak English. Accordingly, there is always a low level hum, particularly at the beginning of plays, when people are informed that no, you cannot sit on the stairs or block the exits as they are fire hazards, and yes, those rules still apply even when it is raining. These discussions, combined with the ludicrously loud rain, meant that the first few scenes were difficult to hear.

However, soon enough both the crowd and the weather subsided sufficiently. Eve Best (Cleopatra) was a suitably imperious Cleopatra, capriciously berating her women and slaves one minute and praising them the next. She was every inch a Queen, and you could easily see a man losing his head over her. I was nervous for her at several points as she cavorted around the stage which was fairly wet; she seemed to have already had a mishap as her left ankle was taped up. Clive Wood made a convincing ageing lion as Antony, albeit a slightly softly spoken lion. They exhibited some passion towards each other, but frankly more tenderness, which was an interesting choice. The acting by both was superb, but I did not detect notable chemistry between them.

Jolyon Coy made an excellent Octavius Caesar (Octavian). He spoke clearly and beautifully and his conflicting desires were apparent to even those of us fortunate enough to be seated towards the back of the theatre. Praise must also go to Phil Daniels, a delightful Enobarbus (assisted by the fact that, of course, he gets all the best lines).

This Antony and Cleopatra is a well done (if unsuitable for the climate) production, continuing the Globe’s tradition of somewhat blood-soaked plays following Titus Andronicus. Make sure to come back to your seat in good time after the interval to see some interesting soothsaying; if you’re squeamish, however, you might want to stay away until the last moment. I must end by praising the two little girls (no older than eight) who were seated near me and who did not utter a peep during the entire performance, even when one fell over (presumably asleep) and hit her head. I think they must have been exceptional, however, and generally do not recommend this one for the under-12s.