CLEOPATRA AND ANTONY.
Cleopatra espouses Antony's cause.--Her motives.--Antony's early
life.--His character.--Personal habits of Antony.--His dress and
manners.--Vicious indulgences of Antony.--Public condemnation.--Vices of
the great.--Candidates for office.--Antony's excesses.--His luxury and
extravagance.--Antony's energy.--His powers of endurance.--Antony's
vicissitudes.--He inveighs away the troops of Lepidus.--Antony's
marriage.--Fulvia's character.--Fulvia's influence over Antony.--The
sudden return.--Change in Antony's character.--His generosity.--Funeral
ceremonies of Brutus.--Antony's movements.--Antony's summons to
Cleopatra.--The messenger Dellius.--Cleopatra resolves to go to
Antony.--Her preparations.--Cleopatra enters the Cydnus.--Her splendid
barge.--A scene of enchantment.--Antony's invitation refused.
--Cleopatra's reception of Antony.--Antony outdone.--Murder of
Arsinoë.--Cleopatra's manner of life at Tarsus.--Cleopatra's
munificence.--Story of the pearls.--Position of Fulvia.--Her anxiety and
distress.--Antony proposes to go to Rome.--His plans frustrated by
Cleopatra.--Antony's infatuation.--Feasting and revelry.--Philotas.--The
story of the eight boats.--Antony's son.--The garrulous guest.--The
puzzle.--The gold and silver plate returned.--Debasing pleasures.
--Antony and Cleopatra in disguise.--Fishing excursions.--Stratagems.
--Fulvia's plans for compelling Antony to return.--Departure of
Antony.--Chagrin of Cleopatra.
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 Caesar, 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, 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 of 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 disregard 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 respect 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 Caesar--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 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 is 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 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 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 Caesar'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 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, 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 Caesar'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 that 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 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.
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 Caesar'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 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 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, 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 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 most
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.
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 melody 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.
[Illustration: MEETING OF CLEOPATRA AND ANTONY.]
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 everybody 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.
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 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 Arsinoë to be slain. Arsinoë had gone, it
will be recollected, to Rome, to grace Caesar'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 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,[1] which she afterward made into a drink, 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.
[Footnote 1: Pearls, being of the nature of _shell_ in their
composition and structure, are soluble in certain acids.]
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 demanded his attention at home, produced an excitement in her mind
bordering upon frensy. 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.
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, drinking, 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 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, 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.
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 cases 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 this 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 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 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 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 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.