Actor's Nightmare

I had one heck of a vivid dream last night, here in Montreal (for the week). I dreamt that it was the first day of rehearsals for Antony and Cleopatra, and I couldn't even get through a single line of my text. This after witnessing Lesley Dowey be already brilliant and already off book. Afterwards I heard someone say "It's going to be a lot of work," and the director (who was Sherry Bie, head of NTS, instead of Ruth) remarked, with a rueful look in my direction: "Yeah, and for what?"

I woke up in a cold sweat and started working on my lines immediately, right from the bed...

It's because I'd been puzzling yesterday over what is perhaps the ugliest sentence in all of Shakespeare:

"So much uncurbable, her garboils, Caesar,
Made out of her impatience, which not wanted
Shrewdness of policy too, I grieving grant,
Did you too much disquiet. For which you must
But say, I could not help it."

There, I guess that means I learned it. But sheesh: Talk about Garboils. Uncurbable garboils. Perhaps it wasn't so much an actor's nightmare as a "Roman Thought" - the admonishment that tells you you're not working hard enough on your responsibilities and the wars you're supposed to be fighting. You're spending too much time with Cleopatra.

Although, if that was the case, then why did Cleopatra have her lines down? I just don't get it.