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Cleopatra and Antony
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CLEOPATRA AND ANTONY
[225] HOW far Cleopatra was influenced, in her determination to
espouse the cause of Antony rather than that of Brutus and
Cassius, in the civil war described in the last chapter, by
gratitude to Cęsar, and how far, on the other hand, by
personal interest in Antony, the reader must judge.
Cleopatra had seen Antony, it will be recollected, some
years before, during his visit to Egypt, when she was a
young girl. She was doubtless well acquainted with his
character. It was a character peculiarly fitted, in some
respects, to captivate the imagination of a woman so ardent,
and impulsive, and bold as Cleopatra was fast becoming.
Antony had, in fact, made himself an object of universal
interest throughout the world, by his wild and eccentric
manners and reckless conduct, and by the very extraordinary
vicissitudes which had marked his career. In moral character
he was as utterly abandoned and depraved as it was possible
to be. In early life,
[226] as has already been stated, he plunged into such a course of
dissipation and extravagance that he became utterly and
hopelessly ruined; or, rather, he would have been so, had he
not, by the influence of that magic power of fascination
which such characters often possess, succeeded in gaining a
great ascendency over a young man of immense fortune, named
Curio, who for a time upheld him by becoming surety for his
debts. This resource, however, soon failed, and Antony was
compelled to abandon Rome, and to live for some years as a
fugitive and exile, in dissolute wretchedness and want.
During all the subsequent vicissitudes through which he
passed in the course of his career, the same habits of
lavish expenditure continued, whenever he had funds at his
command. This trait in his character took the form sometimes
of a noble generosity. In his campaigns, the plunder which
he acquired he usually divided among his soldiers, reserving
nothing for himself. This made his men enthusiastically
devoted to him, and led them to consider his prodigality as
a virtue, even when they did not themselves derive any
direct advantage from it. A thousand stories were always in
circulation in camp of acts on his part illustrating his
reckless
disre- [227] gard of the value of money, some ludicrous, and all
eccentric and strange.
In his personal habits, too, he was as different as possible
from other men. He prided himself on being descended from
Hercules, and he affected a style of dress and a general air
and manner in accordance with the savage character of this
his pretended ancestor. His features were sharp, his nose
was arched and prominent, and he wore his hair and beard
very long—as long, in fact, as he could make them grow.
These peculiarities imparted to his countenance a very wild
and ferocious expression. He adopted a style of dress, too,
which, judged of with reference to the prevailing fashions
of the time, gave to his whole appearance a rough, savage,
and reckless air. His manner and demeanor corresponded with
his dress and appearance. He lived in habits of the most
unreserved familiarity with his soldiers. He associated
freely with them, ate and drank with them in the open air,
and joined in their noisy mirth and rude and boisterous
hilarity. His commanding powers of mind, and the desperate
recklessness of his courage, enabled him to do all this
without danger. These qualities inspired in the minds of the
soldiers a feeling of profound
re- [228] spect for their commander; and this good opinion he was
enabled to retain, notwithstanding such habits of
familiarity with his inferiors as would have been fatal to
the influence of an ordinary man.
In the most prosperous portion of Antony's career—for
example, during the period immediately preceding the death
of Cęsar—he addicted himself to vicious indulgences of the
most open, public, and shameless character. He had around
him a sort of court, formed of jesters, tumblers,
mountebanks, play-actors, and other similar characters of
the lowest and most disreputable class. Many of these
companions were singing and dancing girls, very beautiful,
and very highly accomplished in the arts of their respective
professions, but all totally corrupt and depraved. Public
sentiment, even in that age and nation, strongly condemned
this conduct. The people were pagans, it is true, but it is
a mistake to suppose that the formation of a moral sentiment
in the community against such vices as these is a work which
Christianity alone can perform. There is a law of nature, in
the form of an instinct universal in the race, imperiously
enjoining that the connection of the sexes shall consist of
the union
[229] of one man with one woman, and that woman his wife, and very
sternly prohibiting every other. So that there has probably
never been a community in the world so corrupt, that a man
could practice in it such vices as those of Antony, without
not only violating his own sense of right and wrong, but
also bringing upon himself the general condemnation of those
around him.
Still, the world are prone to be very tolerant in respect to
the vices of the great. Such exalted personages as Antony
seem to be judged by a different standard from common men.
Even in the countries where those who occupy high stations
of trust or of power are actually selected, for the purpose
of being placed there, by the voices of their fellow-men,
all inquiry into the personal character of a candidate is
often suppressed, such inquiry being condemned as wholly
irrelevant and improper, and they who succeed in attaining
to power enjoy immunities in their elevation which are
denied to common men.
But, notwithstanding the influence of Antony's rank and
power in shielding him from public censure, he carried his
excesses to such an extreme that his conduct was very loudly
[230] and very generally condemned. He would spend all the night
in carousals, and then, the next day, would appear in
public, staggering in the streets. Sometimes he would enter
the tribunals for the transaction of business when he was so
intoxicated that it would be necessary for friends to come
to his assistance to conduct him away. In some of his
journeys in the neighborhood of Rome, he would take a troop
of companions with him of the worst possible character, and
travel with them openly and without shame. There was a
certain actress, named Cytheride, whom he made his companion
on one such occasion. She was borne upon a litter in his
train, and he carried about with him a vast collection of
gold and silver plate, and of splendid table furniture,
together with an endless supply of luxurious articles of
food and of wine, to provide for the entertainments and
banquets which he was to celebrate with her on the journey.
He would sometimes stop by the road side, pitch his tents,
establish his kitchens, set his cooks at work to prepare a
feast, spread his tables, and make a sumptuous banquet of
the most costly, complete, and ceremonious character—all to
make men wonder at the abundance and perfection of the means
[231] of luxury which he could carry with him wherever he might
go. In fact, he always seemed to feel a special pleasure in
doing strange and extraordinary things in order to excite
surprise. Once on a journey he had lions harnessed to his
carts to draw his baggage, in order to create a sensation.
Notwithstanding the heedlessness with which Antony abandoned
himself to these luxurious pleasures when at Rome, no man
could endure exposure and hardship better when in camp or on
the field. In fact, he rushed with as much headlong
precipitation into difficulty and danger when abroad, as
into expense and dissipation when at home. During his
contests with Octavius and Lepidus, after Cęsar's death, he
once had occasion to pass the Alps, which, with his
customary recklessness, he attempted to traverse without any
proper supplies of stores or means of transportation. He was
reduced, on the passage, together with the troops under his
command, to the most extreme destitution and distress. They
had to feed on roots and herbs, and finally on the bark of
trees; and they barely preserved themselves, by these means,
from actual starvation. Antony seemed, however, to care
nothing for all this, but pressed on through
[232] the difficulty and danger, manifesting the same daring and
determined unconcern to the end. In the same campaign he
found himself at one time reduced to extreme destitution in
respect to men. His troops had been gradually wasted away
until his situation had become very desperate. He conceived,
under these circumstances, the most extraordinary idea of
going over alone to the camp of Lepidus and enticing away
his rival's troops from under the very eyes of their
commander. This bold design was successfully executed.
Antony advanced alone, clothed in wretched garments, and
with his matted hair and beard hanging about his breast and
shoulders, up to Lepidus's lines. The men, who knew him
well, received him with acclamations; and pitying the sad
condition to which they saw that he was reduced, began to
listen to what he had to say. Lepidus, who could not attack
him, since he and Antony were not at that time in open
hostility to each other, but were only rival commanders in
the same army, ordered the trumpeters to sound, in order to
make a noise which should prevent the words of Antony from
being heard. This interrupted the negotiation; but the men
immediately disguised two of their number in female apparel
[233] and sent them to Antony to make arrangements with him for
putting themselves under his command, and offering, at the
same time, to murder Lepidus, if he would but speak the
word. Antony charged them to do Lepidus no injury. He,
however, went over and took possession of the camp, and
assumed the command of the army. He treated Lepidus himself,
personally, with extreme politeness, and retained him as a
subordinate under his command.
Not far from the time of Cęsar's death, Antony was married.
The name of the lady was Fulvia. She was a widow at the time
of her marriage with Antony, and was a woman of very marked
and decided character. She had led a wild and irregular life
previous to this time, but she conceived a very strong
attachment to her new husband, and devoted herself to him
from the time of her marriage with the most constant
fidelity. She soon acquired a very great ascendency over
him, and was the means of effecting a very considerable
reform in his conduct and character. She was an ambitious
and aspiring woman, and made many very efficient and
successful efforts to promote the elevation and
aggrandizement of her husband. She appeared, also, to take a
great pride and
[234] pleasure in exercising over him, herself, a great personal
control. She succeeded in these attempts in a manner that
surprised every body. It seemed astonishing to all mankind
that such a tiger as he had been could be subdued by any
human power. Nor was it by gentleness and mildness that
Fulvia gained such power over her husband. She was of a very
stern and masculine character, and she seems to have
mastered Antony by surpassing him in the use of his own
weapons. In fact, instead of attempting to soothe and
mollify him, she reduced him, it seems, to the necessity of
resorting to various contrivances to soften and propitiate
her. Once, for example, on his return from a campaign in
which he had been exposed to great dangers, he disguised
himself and came home at night in the garb of a courier
bearing dispatches. He caused himself to be ushered, muffled
and disguised as he was, into Fulvia's apartments, where he
handed her some pretended letters, which, he said, were from
her husband; and while Fulvia was opening them in great
excitement and trepidation, he threw off his disguise, and
revealed himself to her by clasping her in his arms and
kissing her in the midst of her amazement.
[235] Antony's marriage with Fulvia, besides being the means of
reforming his morals in some degree, softened and civilized
him in respect to his manners. His dress and appearance now
assumed a different character. In fact, his political
elevation after Cęsar's death soon became very exalted, and
the various democratic arts by which he had sought to raise
himself to it, being now no longer necessary, were, as usual
in such cases gradually discarded. He lived in great style
and splendor when at Rome, and when absent from home, on his
military campaigns, he began to exhibit the same pomp and
parade in his equipage and in his arrangements as were usual
in the camps of other Roman generals.
After the battle of Philippi, described in the last chapter,
Antony—who, with all his faults, was sometimes a very
generous foe—as soon as the tidings of Brutus's death were
brought to him, repaired immediately to the spot, and
appeared to be quite shocked and concerned at the sight of
the body. He took off his own military cloak or mantle—which
was a very magnificent and costly garment, being enriched
with many expensive ornaments—and spread it over the corpse.
He then gave directions to one of
[236] the officers of his household to make arrangements for
funeral ceremonies of a very imposing character, as a
testimony of his respect for the memory of the deceased. In
these ceremonies it was the duty of the officer to have
burned the military cloak which Antony had appropriated to
the purpose of a pall, with the body. He did not, however, do
so. The cloak being very valuable, he reserved it; and he
withheld, also, a considerable part of the money which had
been given him for the expenses of the funeral. He supposed
that Antony would probably not inquire very closely into the
details of the arrangements made for the funeral of his most
inveterate enemy. Antony, however, did inquire into them,
and when he learned what the officer had done, he ordered
him to be killed.
The various political changes which occurred, and the
movements which took place among the several armies after
the battle of Philippi, can not be here detailed. It is
sufficient to say that Antony proceeded to the eastward
through Asia Minor, and in the course of the following year
came into Cilicia. From this place he sent a messenger to
Egypt to Cleopatra, summoning her to appear before him.
There were charges, he said, against her, of having aided
[237] Cassius and Brutus in the late war instead of rendering
assistance to him. Whether there really were any such
charges, or whether they were only fabricated by Antony as
pretexts for seeing Cleopatra, the fame of whose beauty was
very widely extended, does not certainly appear. However
this may be, he sent to summon the queen to come to him. The
name of the messenger whom Antony dispatched on this errand
was Dellius. Fulvia, Antony's wife, was not with him at this
time. She had been left behind at Rome.
Dellius proceeded to Egypt and appeared at Cleopatra's
court. The queen was at this time about twenty-eight years
old, but more beautiful, as was said, than ever before.
Dellius was very much struck with her beauty, and with a
certain fascination in her voice and conversation, of which
her ancient biographers often speak as one of the most
irresistible of her charms. He told her that she need have
no fear of Antony. It was of no consequence, he said, what
charges there might be against her. She would find that, in
a very few days after she had entered into Antony's
presence, she would be in great favor. She might rely, in
fact, he said, on gaining, very speedily, an unbounded
ascendency
[238] over the general. He advised her, therefore, to proceed to
Cilicia without fear, and to present herself before Antony
in as much pomp and magnificence as she could command. He
would answer, he said, for the result.
Cleopatra determined to follow this advice. In fact, her
ardent and impulsive imagination was fired with the idea of
making, a second time, the conquest of the greatest general
and highest potentate in the world. She began immediately to
make provision for the voyage. She employed all the
resources of her kingdom in procuring for herself the moat
magnificent means of display, such as expensive and splendid
dresses, rich services of plate, ornaments of precious
stones and of gold, and presents in great variety and of the
most costly description for Antony. She appointed, also, a
numerous retinue of attendants to accompany her, and, in a
word, made all the arrangements complete for an expedition
of the most imposing and magnificent character. While these
preparations were going forward, she received new and
frequent communications from Antony, urging her to hasten
her departure; but she paid very little attention to them.
It was evident that she felt quite independent, and was
intending to take her own time.
[239] At length, however, all was ready, and Cleopatra set sail.
She crossed the Mediterranean Sea, and entered the mouth of
the River Cydnus. Antony was at Tarsus, a city upon the
Cydnus, a small distance above its mouth. When Cleopatra's
fleet had entered the river, she embarked on board a most
magnificent barge which she had constructed for the
occasion, and had brought with her across the sea. This
barge was the most magnificent and highly-ornamented vessel
that had ever been built. It was adorned with carvings and
decorations of the finest workmanship, and elaborately
gilded. The sails were of purple, and the oars were inlaid
and tipped with silver. Upon the deck of this barge Queen
Cleopatra appeared, under a canopy of cloth of gold. She was
dressed very magnificently in the costume in which Venus,
the goddess of Beauty, was then generally represented. She
was surrounded by a company of beautiful boys, who attended
upon her in the form of Cupids, and fanned her with their
wings, and by a group of young girls representing the Nymphs
and the Graces. There was a band of musicians stationed upon
the deck. This music guided the oarsmen, as they kept time
to it in their rowing; and, soft as the
mel- [240] ody was, the strains were heard far and wide over the
water and along the shores, as the beautiful vessel advanced
on its way. The performers were provided with flutes, lyres,
viols, and all the other instruments customarily used in
those times to produce music of a gentle and voluptuous
kind.
THE ENTERTAINMENT AT TARSUS.
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In fact, the whole spectacle seemed like a vision of
enchantment. Tidings of the approach of the barge spread
rapidly around, and the people of the country came down in
crowds to the shores of the river to gaze upon it in
admiration as it glided slowly along. At the time of its
arrival at Tarsus, Antony was engaged in giving a public
audience at some tribunal in his palace, but every body ran
to see Cleopatra and the barge, and the great triumvir was
left consequently alone, or, at least, with only a few
official attendants near him. Cleopatra, on arriving at the
city, landed, and began to pitch her tents on the shores.
Antony sent a messenger to bid her welcome, and to invite
her to come and sup with him. She declined the invitation,
saying that it was more proper that he should come and sup
with her. She would accordingly expect him to come, she
said, and her tents would be ready at the proper hour.
[243] Antony complied with her proposal, and came to her
entertainment. He was received with a magnificence and
splendor which amazed him. The tents and pavilions where the
entertainment was made were illuminated with an immense
number of lamps. These lamps were arranged in a very
ingenious and beautiful manner, so as to produce an
illumination of the most surprising brilliancy and beauty.
The immense number and variety, too, of the meats and wines,
and of the vessels of gold and silver, with which the tables
were loaded, and the magnificence and splendor of the
dresses worn by Cleopatra and her attendants, combined to
render the whole scene one of bewildering enchantment.
The next day, Antony invited Cleopatra to come and return
his visit; but, though he made every possible effort to
provide a banquet as sumptuous and as sumptuously served as
hers, he failed entirely in this attempt, and acknowledged
himself completely outdone. Antony was, moreover, at these
interviews, perfectly fascinated with Cleopatra's charms.
Her beauty, her wit, her thousand accomplishments, and,
above all, the tact, and adroitness, and self-possession
which she displayed in assuming at once
[244] so boldly, and carrying out so adroitly, the idea of her
social superiority over him, that he yielded his heart
almost immediately to her undisputed sway.
The first use which Cleopatra made of her power was to ask
Antony, for her sake, to order her sister Arsinoė to be
slain. Arsinoė had gone, it will be recollected, to Rome, to
grace Cęsar's triumph there, and had afterward retired to
Asia, where she was now living an exile. Cleopatra, either
from a sentiment of past revenge, or else from some
apprehensions of future danger, now desired that her sister
should die. Antony readily acceded to her request. He sent
an officer in search of the unhappy princess. The officer
slew her where he found her, within the precincts of a
temple to which she had fled, supposing it a sanctuary which
no degree of hostility, however extreme, would have dared to
violate.
Cleopatra remained at Tarsus for some time, revolving in an
incessant round of gayety and pleasure, and living in habits
of unrestrained intimacy with Antony. She was accustomed to
spend whole days and nights with him in feasting and
revelry. The immense magnificence of these entertainments,
especially on
[245] Cleopatra's part, were the
wonder of the world. She seems to have taken special
pleasure in exciting Antony's surprise by the display of her
wealth and the boundless extravagance in which she indulged.
At one of her banquets, Antony was expressing his
astonishment at the vast number of gold cups, enriched with
jewels, that were displayed on all sides. "Oh," said she,
"they are nothing; if you like them, you shall have them
all." So saying, she ordered her servants to carry them to
Antony's house. The next day she invited Antony again, with
a large number of the chief officers of his army and court.
The table was spread with a new service of gold and silver
vessels, more extensive and splendid than that of the
preceding day; and at the close of the supper, when the
company was about to depart, Cleopatra distributed all these
treasures among the guests that had been present at the
entertainment. At another of these feasts, she carried her
ostentation and display to the astonishing extreme of taking
off from one of her ear-rings a pearl of immense value and
dissolving it in a cup of vinegar,
which she afterward made into a drink,
[246] such as was customarily used in those days, and then drank
it. She was proceeding to do the same with the other pearl,
when some of the company arrested the proceeding, and took
the remaining pearl away.
In the mean time, while Antony was thus wasting his time in
luxury and pleasure with Cleopatra, his public duties were
neglected, and every thing was getting into confusion.
Fulvia remained in Italy. Her position and her character
gave her a commanding political influence, and she exerted
herself in a very energetic manner to sustain, in that
quarter of the world, the interests of her husband's cause.
She was surrounded with difficulties and dangers, the
details of which can not, however, be here particularly
described. She wrote continually to Antony, urgently
entreating him to come to Rome, and displaying in her
letters all those marks of agitation and distress which a
wife would naturally feel under the circumstances in which
she was placed. The thought that her husband had been so
completely drawn away from her by the guilty arts of such a
woman, and led by her to abandon his wife and his family,
and leave in neglect and confusion concerns of such
momentous magnitude as those which
demand- [247] ed his attention at home, produced an excitement in her mind
bordering upon phrensy. Antony was at length so far
influenced by the urgency of the case that he determined to
return. He broke up his quarters at Tarsus and moved south
toward Tyre, which was a great naval port and station in
those days. Cleopatra went with him. They were to separate
at Tyre. She was to embark there for Egypt, and he for
Rome.
At least that was Antony's plan, but it was not Cleopatra's.
She had determined that Antony should go with her to
Alexandria. As might have been expected, when the time came
for the decision, the woman gained the day. Her flatteries,
her arts, her caresses, her tears, prevailed. After a brief
struggle between the sentiment of love on the one hand and
those of ambition and of duty combined on the other, Antony
gave up the contest. Abandoning every thing else, he
surrendered himself wholly to Cleopatra's control, and went
with her to Alexandria. He spent the winter there, giving
himself up with her to every species of sensual indulgence
that the most remorseless license could tolerate, and the
most unbounded wealth procure.
[248] There seemed, in fact, to be no bounds to the extravagance
and infatuation which Antony displayed during the winter in
Alexandria. Cleopatra devoted herself to him incessantly,
day and night, filling up every moment of time with some new
form of pleasure, in order that he might have no time to
think of his absent wife, or to listen to the reproaches of
his conscience. Antony, on his part, surrendered himself a
willing victim to these wiles, and entered with all his
heart into the thousand plans of gayety and merry-making
which Cleopatra devised. They had each a separate
establishment in the city, which was maintained at an
enormous cost, and they made a regular arrangement by which
each was the guest of the other on alternate days. These
visits were spent in games, sports, spectacles, feasting,
dunking, and in every species of riot, irregularity, and
excess.
A curious instance is afforded of the accidental manner in
which intelligence in respect to the scenes and incidents of
private life in those ancient days is sometimes obtained, in
a circumstance which occurred at this time at Antony's
court. It seems that there was a young medical student at
Alexandria that winter, named Philotas, who happened, in
some
[249] way or other, to have formed an acquaintance with one of
Antony's domestics, a cook. Under the guidance of this cook,
Philotas went one day into the palace to see what was to be
seen. The cook took his friend into the kitchens, where, to
Philotas's great surprise, he saw, among an infinite number
and variety of other preparations, eight wild boars roasting
before the fires, some being more and some less advanced in
the process. Philotas asked what great company was to dine
there that day. The cook smiled at this question, and
replied that there was to be no company at all, other than
Antony's ordinary party. "But," said the cook, in
explanation, "we are obliged always to prepare several
suppers, and to have them ready in succession at different
hours, for no one can tell at what time they will order the
entertainment to be served. Sometimes, when the supper has
been actually carried in, Antony and Cleopatra will get
engaged in some new turn of their diversions, and conclude
not to sit down just then to the table, and so we have to
take the supper away, and presently bring in another."
Antony had a son with him at Alexandria at this time, the
child of his wife Fulvia. The name of the son, as well as
that of the father,
[250] was Antony. He was old enough to feel some sense of shame
at his father's dereliction from duty, and to manifest some
respectful regard for the rights and the honor of his
mother. Instead of this, however, he imitated his father's
example, and, in his own way, was as reckless and
extravagant as he. The same Philotas who is above referred
to was, after a time, appointed to some office or other in
the young Antony's household, so that he was accustomed to
sit at his table and share in his convivial enjoyments. He
relates that once, while they were feasting together, there
was a guest present, a physician, who was a very vain and
conceited man, and so talkative that no one else had any
opportunity to speak. All the pleasure of conversation was
spoiled by his excessive garrulity. Philotas, however, at
length puzzled him so completely with a question of
logic,—of a kind similar to those often discussed with great
interest in ancient days,—as to silence him for a time; and
young Antony was so much delighted with this feat, that he
gave Philotas all the gold and silver plate that there was
upon the table, and sent all the articles home to him, after
the entertainment was over, telling him to put his mark and
stamp upon them, and lock them up.
[251] The question with which Philotas puzzled the self-conceited
physician was this. It must be premised, however, that in
those days it was considered that cold water in an
intermittent fever was extremely dangerous, except in some
peculiar cases, and in those the effect was good. Philotas
then argued as follows: "In cases of a certain kind it is
best to give water to a patient in an ague. All cases of
ague are cases of a certain kind. Therefore it is best in
all oases to give the patient water." Philotas having
propounded his argument in this way, challenged the
physician to point out the fallacy of it; and while the
physician sat perplexed and puzzled in his attempts to
unravel the intricacy of it, the company enjoyed a temporary
respite from his excessive loquacity.
Philotas adds, in his account of this affair, that he sent
the gold and silver plate back to young Antony again, being
afraid to keep them. Antony said that perhaps it was as well
that should be done, since many of the vessels were of great
value on account of their rare and antique workmanship, and
his father might possibly miss them and wish to know what
had become of them.
As there were no limits, on the one hand, to
[252] the loftiness and grandeur of the pleasures to which Antony
and Cleopatra addicted themselves, so there were none to the
low and debasing tendencies which characterized them on the
other. Sometimes, at midnight, after having been spending
many hours in mirth and revelry in the palace, Antony would
disguise himself in the dress of a slave, and sally forth
into the streets, excited with wine, in search of
adventures. In many cases, Cleopatra herself, similarly
disguised, would go out with him. On these excursions Antony
would take pleasure in involving himself in all sorts of
difficulties and dangers—in street riots, drunken brawls,
and desperate quarrels with the populace—all for Cleopatra's
amusement and his own. Stories of these adventures would
circulate afterward among the people, some of whom would
admire the free and jovial character of their eccentric
visitor, and others would despise him as a prince degrading
himself to the level of a brute.
Some of the amusements and pleasures which Antony and
Cleopatra pursued were innocent in themselves, though wholly
unworthy to be made the serious business of life by
personages on whom such exalted duties rightfully devolved.
They made various excursions upon the
[253] Nile, and arranged parties of pleasure to go out on the
water in the harbor, and to various rural retreats in the
environs of the city. Once they went out on a fishing-party,
in boats, in the port. Antony was unsuccessful; and feeling
chagrined that Cleopatra should witness his ill luck, he
made a secret arrangement with some of the fishermen to dive
down, where they could do so unobserved, and fasten fishes
to his hook under the water. By this plan he caught very
large and fine fish very fast. Cleopatra, however, was too
wary to be easily deceived by such a stratagem as this. She
observed the maneuver, but pretended not to observe it; she
expressed, on the other hand, the greatest surprise and
delight at Antony's good luck, and the extraordinary skill
which it indicated.
The next day she wished to go a fishing again, and a party
was accordingly made as on the day before. She had, however,
secretly instructed another fisherman to procure a dried and
salted fish from the market, and, watching his opportunity,
to get down into the water under the boats and attach it to
the hook, before Antony's divers could get there. This plan
succeeded, and Antony, in the midst of a large and gay party
that were looking on, pulled out
[254] an excellent fish, cured and dried, such as was known to
every one as an imported article, bought in the market. It
was a fish of a kind that was brought originally from Asia
Minor. The boats, and the water all around them, resounded
with the shouts of merriment and laughter which this
incident occasioned.
In the mean time, while Antony was thus spending his time in
low and ignoble pursuits and in guilty pleasures at
Alexandria, his wife Fulvia, after exhausting all other
means of inducing her husband to return to her, became
desperate, and took measures for fomenting an open war,
which she thought would compel him to return. The
extraordinary energy, influence, and talent which Fulvia
possessed, enabled her to do this in an effectual manner. She
organized an army, formed a camp, placed herself at the head
of the troops, and sent such tidings to Antony of the
dangers which threatened his cause as greatly alarmed him.
At the same time news came of great disasters in Asia Minor,
and of alarming insurrections among the provinces which had
been committed to his charge there. Antony saw that he must
arouse himself from the spell which had enchanted
[255] him and break away from Cleopatra, or that he would be
wholly and irretrievably ruined. He made, accordingly, a
desperate effort to get free. He bade the queen farewell,
embarked hastily in a fleet of galleys, and sailed away to
Tyre, leaving Cleopatra in her palace, vexed, disappointed,
and chagrined.
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