******************************************************************* this ebook was one of project gutenberg's early files produced at a time when proofing methods and tools were not well developed. there is an improved edition of this title which may be viewed as ebook (# ) at https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/ ******************************************************************* this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] cleopatra by georg ebers volume . chapter xxiii. after accompanying dion to the harbour, the architect had gone to the forum to converse with the men he met there, and learn what they feared and expected in regard to the future fate of the city. all news reached this meeting-place first, and he found a large number of macedonian citizens who, like himself, wished to discuss passing events in these decisive hours. the scene was very animated, for the most contradictory messages were constantly arriving from the fleet and the army. at first they were very favourable; then came the news of the treason, and soon after of the desertion of the cavalry and foot soldiers. a distinguished citizen had seen mark antony, accompanied by several friends, dashing down the quay. the goal of their flight was the little palace on the choma. grave men, whose opinion met with little opposition, thought that it was the duty of the imperator--now that fate had decided against him, and nothing remained save a life sullied by disgrace--to put himself to death with his own hand, like brutus and so many other noble romans. tidings soon came that he had attempted to do what the best citizens expected. gorgias could not endure to remain longer in the forum, but hastened to the choma, though it was difficult to force his way to the wall, where a breach had been made. he had found the portion of the shore from which the promontory ran densely crowded with people--from whom he learned that antony was no longer in the palace--and the sea filled with boats. a corpse was just being borne out of the little palace on the street of the king and, among those who followed, gorgias recognized one of antony's slaves. the man's eyes were red with weeping. he readily obeyed the architect's sign and, sobbing bitterly, told him that the hapless general, after his army had betrayed him, fled hither. when he heard in the palace that cleopatra had preceded him to hades, he ordered his body-slave eros to put an end to his life also. the worthy man drew back, pierced his own breast with his sword, and sank dying at his master's feet; but antony, exclaiming that eros's example had taught him his duty, thrust the short sword into his breast with his own hand. yet deep and severe as was the wound, it did not destroy the tremendous vitality of the gigantic roman. with touching entreaties he implored the bystanders to kill him, but no one could bring himself to commit the deed. meanwhile cleopatra's name, coupled with the wish to follow her, was constantly on the lips of the imperator. at last diomedes, the queen's private secretary, appeared, to bring him, by her orders, to the mausoleum where she had taken refuge. antony, as if animated with fresh vigour, assented, and while being carried thither gave orders that eros should have a worthy burial. even though dying, it would have been impossible for the most generous of masters to permit any kindness rendered to pass unrequited. the slave again wept aloud as he uttered the words, but gorgias hastened at once to the tomb. the nearest way, the street of the king, had become so crowded with people who had been forced back by roman soldiers, between the theatre of dionysus and the corner of the muses, that he had been compelled to reach the building through a side street. the quay was already unrecognizable, and even in the other streets the populace showed a foreign aspect. instead of peaceful citizens, roman soldiers in full armour were met everywhere. instead of greek, egyptian, and syrian faces, fair and dark visages of alien appearance were seen. the city seemed transformed into a camp. here he met a cohort of fair- haired germans; yonder another with locks of red whose home he did not know; and again a vexil of numidian or pannonian horsemen. at the temple of the dioscuri he was stopped. a hispanian maniple had just seized antony's son antyllus and, after a hasty court-martial, killed him. his tutor, theodotus, had betrayed him to the romans, but the infamous fellow was being led with bound hands after the corpse of the hapless youth, because he was caught in the act of hiding in his girdle a costly jewel which he had taken from his neck. before his departure for the island gorgias heard that the scoundrel had been sentenced to crucifixion. at last he succeeded in forcing a passage to the tomb, which he found surrounded on all sides by roman lictors and the scythian guards of the city, who, however, permitted him, as the architect, to pass. the numerous obstacles by which he had been delayed spared him from becoming an eye-witness of the most terrible scenes of the tragedy which had just ended; but he received a minute description from the queen's private secretary, a well-disposed macedonian, who had accompanied the wounded antony, and with whom gorgias had become intimately acquainted during the building of the mausoleum. cleopatra had fled to the tomb as soon as the fortune of war turned in favour of octavianus. no one was permitted to accompany her except charmian and iras, who had helped her close the heavy brazen door of the massive building. the false report of her death, which had induced antony to put an end to his life, had perhaps arisen from the fact that the queen was literally in the tomb. when, borne in the arms of his faithful servants, he reached the mausoleum, mortally wounded, the queen and her attendants vainly endeavoured to open the heavy brazen portal. but cleopatra ardently longed to see her dying lover. she wished to have him near to render the last services, assure him once more of her devotion, close his eyes, and, if it was so ordered, die with him. so she and her attendants had searched the place, and when iras spoke of the windlass which stood on the scaffold to raise the heavy brass plate bearing the bas-relief of love conquering death, the queen and her friends hastened up the stairs, the bearer below fastened the wounded man to the rope, and cleopatra herself stood at the windlass to raise him, aided by her faithful companions. diomedes averred that he had never beheld a more piteous spectacle than the gigantic man hovering between heaven and earth in the agonies of death and, while suffering the most terrible torture, extending his arms longingly towards the woman he loved. though scarcely able to speak, he tenderly called her name, but she made no reply; like iras and charmian, she was exerting her whole strength at the windlass in the most passionate effort to raise him. the rope running over the pulley cut her tender hands; her beautiful face was terribly distorted; but she did not pause until they had succeeded in lifting the burden of the dying man higher and higher till he reached the floor of the scaffolding. the frantic exertion by which the three women had succeeded in accomplishing an act far beyond their strength, though it was doubled by the power of the most earnest will and ardent longing, would nevertheless have failed in attaining its object had not diomedes, at the last moment, come to their assistance. he was a strong man, and by his aid the dying roman was seized, drawn upon the scaffolding, and carried down the staircase to the tomb in the first story. when the wounded general had been laid on one of the couches with which the great hall was already furnished, the private secretary retired, but remained on the staircase, an unnoticed spectator, in order to be at hand in case the queen again needed his assistance. flushed from the terrible exertion which she had just made, with tangled, dishevelled locks, gasping and moaning, cleopatra, as if out of her senses, tore open her robe, beat her breast, and lacerated it with her nails. then, pressing her own beautiful face on her lover's wound to stanch the flowing blood, she lavished upon him all the endearing names which she had bestowed on their love. his terrible suffering made her forget her own and the sad fate impending. tears of pity fell like the refreshing drops of a shower upon the still unwithered blossoms of their love, and brought those which, during the preceding night, had revived anew, to their last magnificent unfolding. boundless, limitless as her former passion for this man, was now the grief with which his agonizing death filled her heart. all that mark antony had been to her in the heyday of life, all their mutual experiences, all that each had received from the other, had returned to her memory in clear and vivid hues during the banquet which had closed a few hours ago. now these scenes, condensed into a narrow compass, again passed before her mental vision, but only to reveal more distinctly the depth of misery of this hour. at last anguish forced even the clearest memories into oblivion: she saw nothing save the tortures of her lover; her brain, still active, revealed solely the gulf at her feet, and the tomb which yawned not only for antony, but for herself. unable to think of the happiness enjoyed in the past or to hope for it in the future, she gave herself up to uncontrolled despair, and no woman of the people could have yielded more absolutely to the consuming grief which rent her heart, or expressed it in wilder, more frantic language, than did this great queen, this woman who as a child had been so sensitive to the slightest suffering, and whose after-life had certainly not taught her to bear sorrow with patience. after charmian, at the dying man's request, had given him some wine, he found strength to speak coherently, instead of moaning and sighing. he tenderly urged cleopatra to secure her own safety, if it could be done without dishonour, and mentioned proculejus as the man most worthy of her confidence among the friends of octavianus. then he entreated her not to mourn for him, but to consider him happy; for he had enjoyed the richest favours of fortune. he owed his brightest hours to her love; but he had also been the first and most powerful man on earth. now he was dying in the arms of love, honourable as a roman who succumbed to romans. in this conviction he died after a short struggle. cleopatra had watched his last breath, closed his eyes, and then thrown herself tearlessly on her lover's body. at last she fainted, and lay unconscious with her head upon his marble breast. the private secretary had witnessed all this, and then returned with tearful eyes to the second story. there he met gorgias, who had climbed the scaffolding, and told him what he had seen and heard from the stairs. but his story was scarcely ended when a carriage stopped at the corner of the muses and an aristocratic roman alighted. this was the very proculejus whom the dying antony had recommended to the woman he loved as worthy of her confidence. "in fact," gorgias continued, "he seemed in form and features one of the noblest of his haughty race. he came commissioned by octavianus, and is said to be warmly devoted to the caesar, and a well-disposed man. we have also heard him mentioned as a poet and a brother-in-law of maecenas. a wealthy aristocrat, he is a generous patron of literature, and also holds art and science in high esteem. timagenes lauds his culture and noble nature. perhaps the historian was right; but where the object in question is the state and its advantage, what we here regard as worthy of a free man appears to be considered of little moment at the court of octavianus. the lord to whom he gives his services intrusted him with a difficult task, and proculejus doubtless considered it his duty to make every effort to perform it--and yet----if i see aright, a day will come when he will curse this, and the obedience with which he, a free man, aided caesar but listen. "erect and haughty in his splendid suit of armour, he knocked at the door of the tomb. cleopatra had regained consciousness and asked--she must have known him in rome--what he desired. "he had come, he answered courteously, by the command of octavianus, to negotiate with her, and the queen expressed her willingness to listen, but refused to admit him into the mausoleum. "so they talked with each other through the door. with dignified composure, she asked to have the sons whom she had given to antony--not caasarion--acknowledged as kings of egypt. "proculejus instantly promised to convey her wishes to caesar, and gave hopes of their fulfilment. "while she was speaking of the children and their claims--she did not mention her own future--the roman questioned her about mark antony's death, and then described the destruction of the dead man's army and other matters of trivial importance. proculejus did not look like a babbler, but i felt a suspicion that he was intentionally trying to hold the attention of the queen. this proved to be his design; he had been merely waiting for cornelius gallus, the commander of the fleet, of whom you have heard. he, too, ranks among the chief men in rome, and yet he made himself the accomplice of proculejus. "the latter retired as soon as he had presented the new-comer to the hapless woman. "i remained at my post and now heard gallus assure cleopatra of his master's sympathy. with the most bombastic exaggeration he described how bitterly octavianus mourned in mark antony the friend, the brother-in- law, the co-ruler and sharer in so many important enterprises. he had shed burning tears over the tidings of his death. never had more sincere ones coursed down any man's cheeks. "gallus, too, seemed to me to be intentionally prolonging the conversation. "then, while i was listening intently to understand cleopatra's brief replies, my foreman, who, when the workmen were driven away by the romans, had concealed himself between two blocks of granite, came to me and said that proculejus had just climbed a ladder to the scaffold in the rear of the monument. two servants followed, and they had all stolen down into the hall. "i hastily started up. i had been lying on the floor with my head outstretched to listen. "cost what it might, the queen must be warned. treachery was certainly at work here. "but i came too late. "o dion! if i had only been informed a few minutes before, perhaps something still more terrible might have happened, but the queen would have been spared what now threatens her. what can she expect from the conqueror who, in order to seize her alive, condescends to outwit a noble, defenceless woman, who has succumbed to superior power? "death would have released the unhappy queen from sore trouble and horrible shame. and she had already raised the dagger against her life. before my eyes she flung aloft her beautiful arm with the flashing steel, which glittered in the light of the candles in the many-branched candelabra beside the sarcophagi. but i will try to remain calm! you shall hear what happened in regular order. my thoughts grow confused as the terrible scene recurs to my memory. to describe it as i saw it, i should need to be a poet, an artist in words; for what passed before me happened on a stage--you know, it was a tomb. the walls were of dark stone-dark, too, were the pillars and ceiling--all dark and glittering; most portions were smoothly polished stone, shining like a mirror. near the sarcophagi, and around the candelabra as far as the vicinity of the door, where the rascally trick was played, the light was brilliant as in a festal hall. every blood-stain on the hand, every scratch, every wound which the desperate woman had torn with her own nails on her bosom, which gleamed snow-white from her black robes, was distinctly visible. farther away, on the right and left, the light was dim, and near the side walls the darkness was as intense as in a real tomb. on the smooth porphyry columns, the glittering black marble and serpentine--here, there, and everywhere--flickered the wavering reflection of the candlelight. the draught kept it continually in motion, and it wavered to and fro in the hall, like the restless souls of the damned. wherever the eye turned it met darkness. the end of the hall seemed black--black as the anteroom of hades--yet through it pierced a brilliant moving bar; sunbeams which streamed from the stairway into the tomb and amid which danced tiny motes. how the scene impressed the eye! the home of gloomy hecate! and the queen and her impending fate. a picture flooded with light, standing forth in radiant relief against the darkness of the heavy, majestic forms surrounding it in a wide circle. this tomb in this light would be a palace meet for the gloomy rule of the king of the troop of demons conjured up by the power of a magician--if they have a ruler. but where am i wandering? 'the artist!' i hear you exclaim again, 'the artist! instead of rushing forward and interposing, he stands studying the light and its effects in the royal tomb.' yes, yes; i had come too late, too late--far too late! on the stairs leading to the lower story of the building i saw it, but i was not to blame for the delay--not in the least! "at first i had been unable to see the men--or even a shadow; but i beheld plainly in the brightest glare of the light the body of mark antony on the couch and, in the dusk farther towards the right, iras and charmian trying to raise a trapdoor. it was the one which closed the passage leading to the combustible materials stored in the cellar. a sign from the queen had commanded them to fire it. the first steps of the staircase, down which i was hastening, were already behind me--then-- then proculejus, with two men, suddenly dashed from the intense darkness on the other side. scarcely able to control myself, i sprang down the remaining steps, and while iras's shrill cry, 'poor cleopatra, they will capture you!' still rang in my ears, i saw the betrayed queen turn from the door through which, resolved on death, she was saying something to gallus, perceive proculejus close behind her, thrust her hand into her girdle, and with the speed of lightning--you have already heard so--throw up her arm with the little dagger to bury the sharp blade in her breast. what a picture! in the full radiance of the brilliant light, she resembled a statue of triumphant victory or of noble pride in great deeds accomplished; and then, then, only an instant later, what an outrage was inflicted! "like a robber, an assassin, proculejus rushed upon her, seized her arm, and wrested the weapon from her grasp. his tall figure concealed her from me. but when, struggling to escape from the ruffian's clutch, she again turned her face towards the hall, what a transformation had occurred! her eyes--you know how large they are--were twice their usual size, and blazed with scorn, fury, and hatred for the traitor. the cheering light had become a consuming fire. so i imagine the vengeance, the curse which calls down ruin upon the head of a foe. and proculejus, the great lord, the poet whose noble nature is praised by the authors on the banks of the tiber, held the defenceless woman, the worthy daughter of a brilliant line of kings, in a firm grasp, as if it required the exertion of all his strength to master this delicate embodiment of charming womanhood. true, the proud blood of the outwitted lioness urged her to resist this profanation, and proculejus--an enviable honour--made her feel the superior strength of his arm. i am no prophet, but dion, i repeat, this shameful struggle and the glances which flashed upon him will be remembered to his dying hour. had they been darted at me, i should have cursed my life. "they blanched even the roman's cheeks. he was lividly pale as he completed what he deemed his duty. his own aristocratic hands were degraded to the menial task of searching the garments of a woman, the queen, for forbidden wares, poisons or weapons. he was aided by one of caesar's freedmen, epaphroditus, who is said to stand so high in the favour of octavianus. "the scoundrel also searched iras and charmian, yet all the time both romans constantly spoke in cajoling terms of caesar's favour; and his desire to grant cleopatra everything which was due a queen. "at last she was taken back to lochias, but i felt like a madman; for the image of the unfortunate woman pursued me like my shadow. it was no longer a vision of the bewitching sovereign nay, it resembled the incarnation of despair, tearless anguish, wrath demanding vengeance. i will not describe it; but those eyes, those flashing, threatening eyes, and the tangled hair on which antony's blood had flowed-terrible, horrible! my heart grew chill, as if i had seen upon athene's shield the head of the medusa with its serpent locks. "it had been impossible for me to warn her in time, or even to seize the traitor's arm--i have already said so--and yet, yet her shining image gazed reproachfully at me for my cowardly delay. her glance still haunts me, robbing me of calmness and peace. not until i gaze into helena's pure, calm eyes will that terrible vision of the face, flooded by light in the midst of the tomb, cease to haunt me." his friend laid his hand on his arm, spoke soothingly to him, and reminded him of the blessings which this terrible day--he had said so himself--had brought. dion was right to give this warning; for gorgias's bearing and the very tone of his voice changed as he eagerly declared that the frightful events had been followed by more than happy ones for the city, his friend, and barine. then, with a sigh of relief, he continued: "i pursued my way home like a drunken man. every attempt to approach the queen or her attendants was baffled, but i learned from charmian's clever nubian that cleopatra had been permitted, in caesar's name, to choose the palace she desired to occupy, and had selected the one at lochias. "i did not make much progress towards my house; the crowd in front of the great gymnasium stopped me. octavianus had gone into the city, and the people, i heard, had greeted him with acclamations and flung themselves on their knees before him. our stiff-necked alexandrians in the dust before the victor! it enraged me, but my resentment was diminished. "the members of the gymnasium all knew me. they made way and, ere i was aware of it, i had passed through the door. tall phryxus had drawn my arm through his. he appears and vanishes at will, is as alert as he is rich, sees and hears everything, and manages to secure the best places. this time he had again succeeded; for when he released me we were standing opposite to a newly erected tribune. "they were waiting for octavianus, who was still in the hypostyle of euergetes receiving the homage of the epitrop, the members of the council, the gymnasiarch, and i know not how many others. "phryxus said that on caesar's entry he had held out his hand to his former tutor, bade him accompany him, and commanded that his sons should be presented. the philosopher had been distinguished above every one else, and this will benefit you and yours; for he is berenike's brother, and therefore your wife's uncle. what he desires is sure to be granted. you will hear at once how studiously the caesar distinguishes him. i do not grudge it to the man; he interceded boldly for barine; he is lauded as an able scholar, and he does not lack courage. in spite of actium and the only disgraceful deed with which, to my knowledge, mark antony could be reproached--i mean the surader of turullius--arius remained here, though the imperator might have held the friend of julius caesar's nephew as a hostage as easily as he gave up the emperor's assassin. "since octavianus encamped before the city, your uncle has been in serious danger, and his sons shared his peril. surely you must know the handsome, vigorous young ephebi. "we were not obliged to wait long in the gymnasium ere the caesar appeared on the platform; and now--if your hand clenches, it is only what i expect--now all fell on their knees. our turbulent, rebellious rabble raised their hands like pleading beggars, and grave, dignified men followed their example. whoever saw me and phryxus will remember us among the kneeling lickspittles; for had we remained standing we should certainly have been dragged down. so we followed the example of the others." "and octavianus?" asked dion eagerly. "a man of regal bearing and youthful aspect; beardless face of the finest chiselling, a profile as beautiful as if created for the coin-maker; all the lines sharp and yet pleasing; every inch an aristocrat; but the very mirror of a cold nature, incapable of any lofty aspiration, any warm emotion, any tenderness of feeling. all in all, a handsome, haughty, calculating man, whose friendship would hardly benefit the heart, but from whose enmity may the immortals guard all we love! "again he led arius by the hand. the philosopher's sons followed the pair. when he stood on the stage, looking down upon the thousands kneeling before him, not a muscle of his noble face--it is certainly that --betrayed the slightest emotion. he gazed at us like a farmer surveying his flocks and, after a long silence, said curtly in excellent greek that he absolved the alexandrians from all guilt towards him: first--he counted as if he were summoning individual veterans to reward them--from respect for the illustrious founder of our city, alexander, the conqueror of the world; secondly, because the greatness and beauty of alexandria filled him with admiration; and, thirdly--he turned to arius as he spoke --to give pleasure to his admirable and beloved friend. "then shouts of joy burst forth. "every one, from the humblest to the greatest, had had a heavy burden removed from his mind, and the throng had scarcely left the gymnasium when they were again laughing saucily enough, and there was no lack of biting and innocent jests. "the fat carpenter, memnon--who furnished the wood-work for your palace-- exclaimed close beside me that formerly a dolphin had saved arius from the pirates; now arius was saving marine alexandria from the robbers. so the sport went on. philostratus, barine's first husband, offered the best butt for jests. the agitator had good reason to fear the worst; and now, clad in black mourning robes, ran after arius, whom but a few months ago he persecuted with the most vindictive hatred, continually repeating this shallow bit of verse: "'if he is a wise man, let the wise aid the wise.' "reaching home was not easy. the street was swarming with roman soldiers. they fared well enough; for in the joy of their hearts many a prosperous citizen who saw his property saved invited individual warriors, or even a whole maniple, to the taverns or cook-shops, and the stock of wine in alexandrian cellars will be considerably diminished to- night. "many, as i have already said, had been quartered in the houses, with orders to spare the property of the citizens; and it was in this way that the misfortune with which i commenced my narrative befell the grandmother. she died before my departure. "all the gates of the city will now stand open to you, and the niece of arius and her husband will be received with ovations. i don't grudge barine the good fortune; for the way in which your noble wife, who had cast her spell over me too, flung aside what is always dear to the admired city beauty and found on the loneliest of islands a new world in love, is worthy of all admiration and praise. for yourself, i dread new happiness and honours; if they are added to those which fate bestowed upon you in such a wife and your son pyrrhus, the gods would not be themselves if they did not pursue you with their envy. i have less reason to fear them." "ungrateful fellow!" interrupted his friend. "there will be numerous mortals to grudge you helena. as for me, i have already felt many a slight foreboding; but we have already paid by no means a small tribute to the divine ones. the lamp is still burning in the sitting-room. inform the sisters of their grandmother's death, and tell them the pleasant tidings you have brought us, but reserve until the morning a description of the terrible scenes you witnessed. we will not spoil their sleep. mark my words! helena's silent grief and her joy at our escape will lighten your heart." and so it proved. true, gorgias lived over again in his dreams the frightful spectacle witnessed the day before; but when the sun of the d day of august rose in full radiance over alexandria and, early in the morning, boat after boat reached the serpent island, landing first berenike and her nephews, the sons of the honoured philosopher arius, then clients, officials, and friends of dion, and former favourite guests of barine, to greet the young pair and escort them from the refuge which had so long sheltered them back to the city and their midst, new and pleasant impressions robbed the gloomy picture of a large portion of its terrors. "tall phryxus" had rapidly spread the news of the place where dion and barine had vanished, and that they had long been happily wedded. many deemed it well worth a short voyage to see the actors in so strange an adventure and be the first to greet them. besides, those who knew barine and her husband were curious to learn how two persons accustomed to the life of a great capital had endured for months such complete solitude. many feared or expected to see them emaciated and careworn, haggard or sunk in melancholy, and hence there were a number of astonished faces among those whose boats the freedman pyrrhus guided as pilot through the shallows which protected his island. the return of this rare couple to their home would have afforded an excellent opportunity for gay festivities. sincerely as the majority of the populace mourned the fate of the queen, and gravely as the more thoughtful feared for alexandria's freedom under roman rule, all rejoiced over the lenient treatment of the city. their lives and property were safe, and the celebration of festivals had become a life habit with all classes. but the news of the death of didymus's wife and the illness of the old man, who could not bear up under the loss of his faithful companion, gave dion a right to refuse any gay welcome at his home. barine's sorrow was his also, and didymus died a few days after his wife, with whom he had lived in the bonds of love for more than half a century --people said, "of a broken heart." so dion and his young wife entered his beautiful palace with no noisy festivities. instead of the jubilant hymenaeus, the voice of his own child greeted him on the threshold. the mourning garments in which barine welcomed him in the women's apartment reminded him of the envy of the gods which his friend had feared for him. but he often fancied that his mother's statue in the tablinum looked specially happy when the young mistress of the house entered it. barine, too, felt that her happiness as wife and mother in her magnificent home would have been overwhelming had not a wise destiny imposed upon her, just at this time, grief for those whom she loved. dion instantly devoted himself again to the affairs of the city and his own business. he and the woman he loved, who had first become really his own during a time of sore privation, had run into the harbour and gazed quietly at the storms of life. the anchor of love, which moored their ship to the solid earth, had been tested in the solitude of the serpent island. chapter xxiv. the fisherman and his family had watched the departure of their beloved guests with sorrowful hearts, and the women had shed many tears, although the sons of pyrrhus had been dismissed from the fleet and were again helping their father at home, as in former times. besides, dion had made the faithful freedman a prosperous man, and given his daughter, dione, a marriage dowry. she was soon to become the wife of the captain of the epicurus, archibius's swift galley, whose acquaintance she had made when the vessel, on several occasions, brought charmian's nubian maid to the island. anukis's object in making these visits was not only to see her friend, but to induce him to catch one of the poisonous serpents in the neighbouring island and keep it ready for the queen. since cleopatra had ascertained that no poison caused a less painful death than the fangs of the asp, she had resolved that the bite of one of these reptiles should release her from the burden of life. the clever ethiopian had thought of inducing her friend pyrrhus to procure the adder, but it had required all aisopion's skill in persuasion, and the touching manner in which she understood how to describe the queen's terrible situation and severe suffering, to conquer the reluctance of the upright man. at last she succeeded in persuading him to measure a queen by a different standard from a woman of the people, and inducing him to arrange the manner and time of conveying the serpent into the well- guarded palace. a signal was to inform him when the decisive hour arrived. after that he was to be ready with the asp in the fish-market every day. probably his service would soon be claimed; for octavianus's delay was scarcely an indication of a favourable decision of cleopatra's fate. true, she was permitted to live in royal state at lochias, and had even been allowed to have the children, the twins, and little alexander sent back to her with the promise that life and liberty would be granted them; but caesarion--whose treacherous tutor rhodon lured him from the journey southward back to alexandria by all sorts of representations, among them the return of barine--was held prisoner in his father's temple, where he had sought refuge. this news, and the fact that octavianus had condemned to death the youth who bore so striking a resemblance to caesar, had not remained concealed from the unhappy mother. she was also informed of the words in which the philosopher arius had encouraged caesar's desire to rid himself of the son of his famous uncle. they referred to the homeric saying concerning the disadvantage of having many rulers. everything which cleopatra desired to know concerning events in the city reached her ears; for she was allowed much liberty-only she was closely watched day and night, and all the servants and officials to whom she granted an audience were carefully searched to keep from her all means of self-destruction. true, it was very evident that she had closed her account with life. her attempt to take no food and die of starvation must have been noticed. threats directed against the children, through whom she could be most easily influenced, finally induced her to eat again. octavianus was informed of all these things, and his conduct proved his anxiety to keep her from suicide. several asiatic princes vied with each other in the desire to honour mark antony by a magnificent funeral, but octavianus had allowed cleopatra to provide the most superb obsequies. in the time of her deepest anguish it afforded her comfort and satisfaction to arrange everything herself, and even perform some offices with her own hands. the funeral had been as gorgeous as the dead man's love of splendour could have desired. iras and charmian were often unable to understand how the queen--who, since antony's death, had suffered not only from the wounds she had inflicted upon herself in her despair, but also after her baffled attempt at starvation from a slow fever--had succeeded in resisting the severe exertions and mental agitation to which she had been subjected by antony's funeral. the return of archibius with the children, however, had visibly reanimated her flagging energy. she often went to didymus's garden, which was now connected with the palace at lochias, to watch their work and share whatever interested their young hearts. but the gayest of mothers, who had understood how to enter so thoroughly into her children's pursuits, had now become a sorrowful, grave monitor. though the lessons she urged upon them were often beautiful and wise, they were little suited to the ages of archibius's pupils, for they usually referred to death and to questions of philosophy not easily understood by children. she herself felt that she no longer struck the right key; but whenever she tried to change it and jest with them as usual, she could endure the forced gaiety only a short time; a painful revulsion, frequently accompanied by tears, followed, and she was obliged to leave her darlings. the life her foe granted her seemed like an intrusive gift, an oppressive debt, which we desire to pay a troublesome creditor as soon as possible. she seemed calmer and apparently content only when permitted to talk with the companions of her youth concerning bygone days, or with them and iras of death, and how it would be possible to put an end to an unwelcome existence. after such conversations iras and charmian left her with bleeding hearts. they had long since resolved to share the fate of their royal mistress, whatever it might be. their common suffering was the bond which again united them in affection. iras had provided poisoned pins which had speedily destroyed the animals upon which they had been tried. cleopatra knew of their existence, but she herself preferred the painless death bestowed by the serpent's bite, and it was long since her friends had seen the eyes of their beloved sovereign sparkle so brightly as when charmian told her that away had been found to obtain the uraeus serpent as soon as it was needed. put it was not yet imperative to adopt the last expedient. octavianus wished to be considered lenient, and perhaps might still be prevailed upon to grant the queen and her children a future meet for their royal birth. cleopatra's reply was an incredulous smile, yet a faint hope which saved her from despair began to bud in her soul. dolabella, an aristocratic roman, a scion of the noble cornelius family, was in the caesar's train, and had been presented to the egyptian queen. in former years his father was a friend of cleopatra; nay, she had placed him under obligations by sending him, after the murder of julius caesar, the military force at her command to be used against cassius. true, her legions, by messengers from dolabella himself, were despatched in another direction; but cleopatra had not withdrawn her favour from dolabella's father on that account. the latter had known her in rome before the death of caesar, and had enthusiastically described the charms of the bewitching egyptian sovereign. though the youth found her only a mourning widow, ill in body and mind, he was so strongly attracted and deeply moved by her beauty, her brilliant intellect, her grace of bearing, her misfortunes and sufferings, that he devoted many hours to her, and would have considered it a happiness to render her greater services than circumstances permitted. he often accompanied her to the children, whose hearts had been completely won by his frank, cheerful nature; and so it happened that he soon became one of the most welcome guests at lochias. he confided without reserve every feeling that stirred his soul to the warm-hearted woman who was so many years his senior, and through him she learned many things connected with octavianus and his surroundings. without permitting himself to be used as a tool, he became an advocate for the unfortunate woman whom he so deeply esteemed. in intercourse with her he made every effort to inspire confidence in octavianus, who favoured him, enjoyed his society, and in whose magnanimity the youth firmly believed. he anticipated the best results from an interview between the queen and the caesar; for he deemed it impossible that the successful conqueror could part untouched, and with no desire to mitigate her sad fate, from the woman who, in earlier years, had so fascinated his father, and whom he himself, though she might almost have been his mother, deemed peerless in her bewitching and gracious charm. cleopatra, on the contrary, shrank from meeting the man who had brought so much misfortune upon mark antony and herself, and inflicted upon her insults which were only too well calculated to make her doubt his clemency and truth. on the other hand, she could not deny dolabella's assertion that it would be far less easy for octavianus to refuse her in person the wishes she cherished for her children's future than through mediators. proculejus had learned that antony had named him to the queen as the person most worthy of her confidence, and more keenly felt the wrong which, as the tool and obedient friend of octavianus, he had inflicted upon the hapless woman. the memory of his unworthy deed, which history would chronicle, had robbed the sensitive man, the author and patron of budding roman poetry, of many an hour's sleep, and therefore he also now laboured zealously to oblige the queen and mitigate her hard fate. he, like the freedman epaphroditus, who by caesar's orders watched carefully to prevent any attempt upon her life, seemed to base great hopes on such an interview, and endeavoured to persuade her to request an audience from the caesar. archibius said that, even in the worst case, it could not render the present state of affairs darker. experience, he said to charmian, proved that no man of any feeling could wholly resist the charm of her nature, and to him at least she had never seemed more winning than now. who could have gazed unmoved into the beautiful face, so eloquent in its silent suffering, whose soul would not have been deeply touched by the sorrowful tones of her sweet voice? besides, her sable mourning robes were so well suited to the slight tinge of melancholy which pervaded her whole aspect. when the fever flushed her cheeks, archibius, spite of the ravages which grief, anxiety, and fear had made upon her charms, thought that he had never seen her look more beautiful. he knew her thoroughly, and was aware that her desire to follow the man she loved into the realm of death was sincere; nay, that it dominated her whole being. she clung to life only to die as soon as possible. the decision which, after her resolve to build the monument, she had recognized in the temple of berenike as the right one, had become the rule of conduct of her life. every thought, every conversation, led her back to the past. the future seemed to exist no longer. if archibius succeeded in directing her thoughts to approaching days she occupied herself wholly with her children's fate. for herself she expected nothing, felt absolved from every duty except the one of protecting herself and her name from dishonour and humiliation. the fact that octavianus, when he doomed caesarion to death, permitted the other children to return to her with the assurance that no harm should befall them, proved that he made a distinction between them and his uncle's son, and had no fears that they threatened his own safety. she might expect important results in their favour from an interview with octavianus, so she at last authorized proculejus to request an audience. the imperator's answer came the very same day. it was his place to seek her--so ran the caesar's message. this meeting must decide her fate. cleopatra was aware of this, and begged charmian to remember the asp. her attendants had been forbidden to leave lochias, but epaphroditus permitted them to receive visitors. the nubian's merry, amusing talk had made friends for her among the roman guards, who allowed her to pass in and out unmolested. on her return, of course, she was searched with the utmost care, like every one who entered lochias. the decisive hour was close at hand. charmian knew what she must do in any event, but there was still one desire for whose fulfilment she longed. she wished to greet barine and see her boy. to spare iras, she had hitherto refrained from sending for dion's wife. the sight of the mother and child might have reopened wounds still unhealed, and she would not inflict this sorrow upon her niece, who for a long time had once more been loyally devoted to her. octavianus did not hasten to fulfil his assurance. but, at the end of a week, proculejus brought the news that he could promise a visit from the caesar that afternoon. the queen was deeply agitated, and desired before the interview to pay a visit to her tomb. iras offered to accompany her, and as cleopatra intended to remain an hour or longer, charmian thought it a favourable opportunity to see barine and her boy. dion's wife had been informed of her friend's wish, and anukis, who was to take her to lochias, did not wait long for the mother and child. didymus's garden--now the property of the royal children--was the scene of the meeting. in the shade of the familiar trees the young mother sank upon the breast of her faithful friend, and charmian could not gaze her fill at the boy, or weary of tracing in his features a resemblance to his grandfather leonax. how much these two women, to whom fate had allotted lives so widely different, found to tell each other! the older felt transported to the past, the younger seemed to have naught save a present rich in blessing and a future green with hope. she had good news to tell of her sister also. helena had long been the happy wife of gorgias who, however, spite of the love with which he surrounded the young mistress of his house, numbered among his most blissful hours those which were devoted to overseeing the progress of the work on the mausoleum, where he met cleopatra. time flew swiftly to the two women, and it was a painful surprise when one of the eunuchs on guard announced that the queen had returned. again charmian embraced her lover's grandson, blessed him and the young mother, sent messages of remembrance to dion, begged barine to think of her affectionately when she had passed from earth and, if her heart prompted her to the act, to anoint or adorn with a ribbon or flower the tombstone of the woman who had no friend to render her such a service. deeply moved by the firmness with which charmian witnessed the approach of death, barine listened in silence, but suddenly started as the sharp tones of a well-known voice called her friend's name and, as she turned, iras stood before her. pallid and emaciated, she looked in her long, floating black robes the very incarnation of misery. the sight pierced the heart of the happy wife and mother. she felt as if much of the joy which iras lacked had fallen to her own lot, and all the grief and woe she had ever endured had been transferred to her foe. she would fain have approached humbly and said something very kind and friendly; but when she saw the tall, haggard woman gazing at her child, and noticed the disagreeable expression which had formerly induced her to compare her to a sharp thorn, a terrible dread of this woman's evil eye which might harm her boy seized the mother's heart and, overwhelmed by an impulse beyond control, she covered his face with her own veil. iras saw it, and after barine had answered her question, "dion's child?" in the affirmative, with a glance beseeching forbearance, the girl drew up her slender figure, saying with arrogant coldness "what do i care for the child? we have more important matters on our hearts." then she turned to charmian to inform her, in the tone of an official announcement, that during the approaching interview the queen desired her attendance also. octavianus had appointed sunset for the interview, and it still lacked several hours of the time. the suffering queen felt wearied by her visit to the mausoleum, where she had implored the spirit of antony, if he had any power over the conqueror's heart, to induce him to release her from this torturing uncertainty and promise the children a happy fate. to dolabella, who had accompanied her from the tomb to the palace, she said that she expected only one thing from this meeting, and then won from him a promise which strengthened her courage and seemed the most precious boon which could be granted at this time. she had expressed the fear that octavianus would still leave her in doubt. the youth spoke vehemently in caesar's defence, and closed with the exclamation, "if he should still keep you in suspense, he would be not only cool and circumspect--" "then," cleopatra interrupted, "be nobler, be less cruel, and release your father's friend from these tortures. if he does not reveal to me what awaits me and you learn it, then--you will not say no, you cannot refuse me--then you, yes, you will inform me?" promptly and firmly came the reply: "what have i been able to do for you until now? but i will release you from this torture, if possible." then he hastily turned his back, that he might not be compelled to see the eunuchs stationed at the palace gate search the garments of the royal captive. his promise sustained the failing courage of the wearied, anxious queen, and she reclined upon the cushions of a lounge to recover from the exhausting expedition; but she had scarcely closed her eyes when the pavement of the court-yard rang under the hoofs of the four horses which bore the caesar to lochias. cleopatra had not expected the visit so early. she had just been consulting with her attendants about the best mode of receiving him. at first she had been disposed to do so on the throne, clad in her royal attire, but she afterwards thought that she was too ill and weak to bear the heavy ornaments. besides, the man and successful conqueror would show himself more indulgent and gracious to the suffering woman than to the princess. there was much to palliate the course which she had pursued in former days, and she had carefully planned the defence by which she hoped to influence his calm but not unjust nature. many things in her favour were contained in the letters from caesar and antony which, after her husband's death, she had read again and again during so many wakeful nights, and they had just been brought to her. both archibius and the roman proculejus had counselled her not to receive him entirely alone. the latter did not express his opinion in words, but he knew that octavianus was more readily induced to noble and lenient deeds when there was no lack of witnesses to report them to the world. it was advisable to provide spectators for the most consummate actor of his day. therefore the queen had retained iras, charmian, and some of the officials nearest to her person, among them the steward seleukus, who could give information if any question arose concerning the delivery of the treasure. she had also intended, after she had somewhat recovered from the visit to the tomb, to be robed in fresh garments. this was prevented by the caesar's unexpected arrival. now, even had time permitted, she would have been unable to have her hair arranged, she felt so weak and yet so feverishly excited. the blood coursed hotly through her veins and flushed her cheeks. when told that the caesar was close at hand, she had only time to raise herself a little higher on her cushions, push back her hair, and let iras, with a few hasty touches, adjust the folds of her mourning robes. had she attempted to advance to meet him, her limbs would have failed to support her. when the caesar at last entered, she could greet him only by a wave of her hand; but octavianus, who had uttered the usual salutations from the threshold, quickly broke the painful silence, saying with a courteous bow: "you summoned me--i came. every one is subject to beauty--even the victor." cleopatra's head drooped in shame as she answered distinctly, yet in a tone of modest denial: "i only asked the favour of an audience. i did not summon. i thank you for granting the request. if it is dangerous for man to bow to woman's charms, no peril threatens you here. beauty cannot withstand tortures such as those which have been imposed on me-- barely can life remain. but you prevented my casting it from me. if you are just, you will grant to the woman whom you would not permit to die an existence whose burden will not exceed her power to endure." the caesar again bowed silently and answered courteously: "i intend to make it worthy of you." "then," cried cleopatra impetuously, "release me from this torturing uncertainty. you are not one of the men who never look beyond to-day and to-morrow." "you are thinking," said octavianus harshly, "of one who perhaps would still be among us, if with wiser caution--" cleopatra's eyes, which hitherto had met the victor's cold gaze with modest entreaty, flashed angrily, and a majestic: "let the past rest!" interrupted him. but she soon mastered the indignation which had stirred her passionate blood, and in a totally different tone, not wholly free from gentle persuasion, she continued: "the provident intellect of the man whose nod the universe obeys grasps the future as well as the present. must not he, therefore, have decided the children's fate ere he consented to see their mother? the only obstacle in your path, the son of your great uncle--" "his doom was a necessity," interrupted the conqueror in a tone of sincere regret. "as i mourned antony, i grieve for the unfortunate boy." "if that is true," replied cleopatra eagerly, "it does honour to the kindness of your heart. when proculejus wrested the dagger from my grasp he blamed me because i attributed to the most clement of conquerors harshness and implacability." "two qualities," the caesar protested, "which are wholly alien to my nature." "and which--even if you possessed them--you neither could nor ought to use," cried cleopatra, "if you really mean the beautiful words you so often utter that, as the nephew and heir of the great julius caesar, you intend to walk in his footsteps. caesarion--there is his bust--was the image in every feature of his father, your illustrious model. to me, the hapless woman now awaiting my sentence from his nephew's lips, the gods granted, as the most precious of all gifts, the love of your divine uncle. and what love! the world knew not what i was to his great heart, but my wish to defend myself from misconception bids me show it to you, his heir. from you i expect my sentence. you are the judge. these letters are my strongest defence. i rely upon them to show myself to you as i was and am, not as envy and slander describe me.--the little ivory casket, iras! it contains the precious proofs of caesar's love, his letters to me." she raised the lid with trembling hands and, as these mementoes carried her back to the past, she continued in lower tones: "among all my treasures this simple little coffer has been for half a lifetime my most valued jewel. he gave it to me. it was in the midst of the fierce contest here at the bruchium." then, while unfolding the first roll, she directed octavianus's attention to it and the remainder of the contents of the little casket, exclaiming: "silent pages, yet how eloquent! each one a peerless picture, the powerful thinker, the man of action, who permits his restless intellect to repose, and suffers his heart to overflow with the love of youth! were i vain, octavianus, i might call each one of these letters a trophy of victory, an olympic garland. the woman to whom julius caesar owned his subjugation might well hold her head higher than the unhappy, vanquished queen who, save the permission to die--" "do not part with the letters," said octavianus kindly. "who can doubt that they are a precious treasure--" "the most precious and at the same time the advocate of the accused," replied cleopatra eagerly; "on them--as you have already heard--rests my vindication. i will commence with their contents. how terrible it is to make what is sacred to us and intended only to elevate our own hearts serve a purpose, to do what has always been repugnant to us! but i need an advocate and, octavianus, these letters will restore to the wretched, suffering beggar the dignity and majesty of the queen. the world knows but two powers to which julius caesar bowed--the thrall of the pitiable woman on this couch, and of all-conquering death. an unpleasant fellowship--but i do not shrink from it; for death robbed him of life, and from my hand--i ask only a brief moment. how gladly i would spare myself my own praises, and you the necessity of listening to them! yes, here it is: 'through you, you irresistible woman,' he writes, 'i learned for the first time, after youth was over, how beautiful life can be.'" cleopatra, as she spoke, handed caesar the letter. but while she was still searching hastily for another he returned the first, saying: "i understand only too well your reluctance to allow such confidential effusions to play the part of defender. i can imagine their purport, and they shall influence me as if i had read them all. however eloquent they may be, they are needless witnesses. is any written testimony required in behalf of charms whose magic is still potent?" a bewitching smile, which seemed like a confirmation of the haughty young conqueror's flattering words, flitted over cleopatra's face. octavianus noticed it. this woman indeed possessed enthralling charms, and he felt the slight flush that suffused his cheeks. this unhappy captive, this suffering supplicant, could still draw into her net any man who did not possess the cool watchfulness which panoplied his soul. was it the marvellous melody of her voice, the changeful lustre of her tearful eyes, the aristocratic grace of the noble figure, the exquisite symmetry of the hands and feet, the weakness of the prostrate sufferer, strangely blended with truly royal majesty, or the thought that love for her had found earth's greatest and loftiest men with indissoluble fetters, which lent this fragile woman, who had long since passed the boundaries of youth, so powerful a spell of attraction? at any rate, however certain of himself he might be, he must guard his feelings. he understood how to bridle passion far better than the uncle who was so greatly his superior. yet it was of the utmost importance to keep her alive, and therefore to maintain her belief in his admiration. he wished to show the world and the great queen of the east, who had just boasted of conquering, like death, even the most mighty, its own supremacy as man and victor. but he must also be gentle, in order not to endanger the object for which he wanted her. she must accompany him to rome. she and her children promised to render his triumph the most brilliant and memorable one which any conqueror had ever displayed to the senate and the people. in a light tone which, however, revealed the emotion of his soul, he answered: "my illustrious uncle was known as a friend of fair women. his stern life was crowned with flowers by many hands, and he acknowledged these favours verbally and perhaps--as he did to you in all these letters--with the reed. his genius was greater, at any rate more many-sided and mobile, than mine. he succeeded, too, in pursuing different objects at the same time with equal devotion. i am wholly absorbed in the cares of state, of government, and war. i feel grateful when i can permit our poets to adorn my leisure for a brief space. overburdened with toil, i have no time to yield myself captive, as my uncle did in these very rooms, to the most charming of women. if i could follow my own will, you would be the first from whom i would seek the gifts of eros. but it may not be! we romans learn to curb even the most ardent wishes when duty and morality command. there is no city in the world where half so many gods are worshipped as here; and what strange deities are numbered among them! it needs a special effort of the intellect to understand them. but the simple duties of the domestic hearth!--they are too prosaic for you alexandrians, who imbibe philosophy with your mothers' milk. what marvel, if i looked for them in vain? true, they would find little satisfaction--our household gods i mean--here, where the rigid demands of hymen are mute before the ardent pleadings of eros. marriage is scarcely reckoned among the sacred things of life. but this opinion seems to displease you." "because it is false," cried cleopatra, repressing with difficulty a fresh outburst of indignation. "yet, if i see aright, your reproach is aimed only at the bond which united me to the man who was called your sister's husband. but i will i would gladly remain silent, but you force me to speak, and i will do so, though your own friend, proculejus, is signing to me to be cautious. i--i, cleopatra, was the wife of mark antony according to the customs of this country, when you wedded him to the widow of marcellus, who had scarcely closed his eyes. not she, but i, was the deserted wife--i to whom his heart belonged until the hour of his death, not the unloved consort wedded--" here her voice fell. she had yielded to the passionate impulse which urged her to express her feelings in the matter, and now continued in a tone of gentle explanation: "i know that you proposed this alliance solely for the peace and welfare of rome--" "to guard both, and to spare the blood of tens of thousands," octavianus added with proud decision. "your clear brain perceived the true state of affairs. if, spite of the grave importance of these motives, you-- but what voices would not that of the heart silence with you women! the man, the roman, succeeded in closing his ears to its siren song. were it otherwise, i would never have chosen for my sister a husband by whom i knew her happiness would be so ill-guarded--i would, as i have already said, be unable to master my own admiration of the loveliest of women. but i ought scarcely to boast of that. i fear that a heart like yours opens less quickly to the modest octavianus than to a julius caesar or the brilliant mark antony. yet i may be permitted to confess that perhaps i might have avoided conducting this unhappy war against my friend to the end under my own guidance, and appearing myself in egypt, had i not been urged by the longing to see once more the woman who had dazzled my boyish eyes. now, in my mature manhood, i desired to comprehend those marvellous gifts of mind, that matchless sagacity--" "sagacity!" interrupted the queen, shrugging her shoulders mournfully. "you possess a far greater share of what is commonly called by that name. my fate proves it. the pliant intellect which the gods bestowed on me would ill sustain the test in this hour of anguish. but if you really care to learn what mental power cleopatra once possessed, relieve me of this terrible burden of uncertainty, and grant me a position in life which will permit my paralyzed soul to move freely once more." "it depends solely on yourself," octavian eagerly responded, "to make your future life, not only free from care, but beautiful." "on me?" asked cleopatra in astonishment. our weal and woe are in your hands alone. i am modest and ask nothing save to know what you intend for our future, what you mean by the lot which you term beautiful." "nothing less," replied the caesar quietly, "than what seems to lie nearest to your own heart--a life of that freedom of soul to which you aspire." the breath of the agitated queen began come more quickly and, no longer able to contr the impatience which overpowered her, she exclaimed, "with the assurance of your favour on your lips, you refuse to discuss the question which interests, me beyond any other--for which, if any you must have been prepared when you came here--" "reproaches?" asked octavianus with we feigned surprise. "would it not rather be my place to complain? it is precisely because i am thoroughly sincere in the friendly disposition which you read aright from my words, that some of your measures cannot fail to wound me. your treasures were to be committed to the flames. it would be unfair to expect tokens of friendship from the vanquished; but can you deny that even the bitterest hatred could scarcely succeed in devising anything more hostile?" "let the past rest! who would not seek in war to diminish the enemy's booty?" pleaded the queen in a soothing tone. but as octavianus delayed his answer, she continued more eagerly: "it is said that the ibex in the mountains, when in mortal peril, rushes upon the hunter and hurls him with it down the precipice. the same impulse is natural to human beings, and praiseworthy, i think, in both. forget the past, as i will try to do, i repeat with uplifted hands. say that you will permit the sons whom i gave to antony to ascend the egyptian throne, not under their mother's guardianship, but that of rome, and grant me freedom wherever i may live, and i will gladly transfer to you, down to the veriest trifles, all the property and treasures i possess." she clenched her little hand impatiently under the folds of her robe as she spoke; but octavianus lowered his eyes, saying carelessly: "in war the victor disposes of the property of the vanquished; but my heart restrains me from applying the universal law to you, who are so far above ordinary mortals. your wealth is said to be vast, though the foolish war which antony, with your aid, so greatly prolonged, devoured vast sums. in this country squandered gold seems like the grass which, when mowed, springs up anew." "you speak," replied cleopatra, more and more deeply incensed, with proud composure, "of the treasures which my ancestors, the powerful monarchs of a wealthy country, amassed during three hundred years for their noble race and for the adornment of the women of their line. parsimony did not accord with the generosity and lofty nature of an antony, yet avarice itself would not deem the portion still remaining insignificant. every article is registered." while speaking, she took a manuscript from the hand of seleukus and passed it to octavianus who, with a slight bend of the head, received it in silence. but he had scarcely begun to read it when the steward, a little corpulent man with twinkling eyes half buried in his fat cheeks, raised his short forefinger, pointed insolently at the queen, and asserted that she was trying to conceal some things, and had ordered him not to place them on the list. every tinge of colour faded from the lips and cheeks of the agitated and passionate woman; tortured by feverish impatience and no longer able to control her emotions, she raised herself and, with her own dainty hand, struck the accuser--whom she had lifted from poverty and obscurity to his present high position--again and again in the face, till octavianus, with a smile of superiority, begged her, much as the man deserved his punishment, to desist. the unfortunate woman, thus thrown off her guard, flung herself back on her couch and, panting for breath, with tears streaming from her eyes, sobbed aloud, declaring that in the presence of such unendurable insult, such contemptible baseness, she fairly loathed herself. then pressing her clenched hands upon her temples, she exclaimed "before the eyes of the foe my royal dignity, which i have maintained all my life, falls from me like a borrowed mantle. yet what am i? what shall i be to-morrow, what later? but who beneath the sun who has warm blood in his veins can preserve his composure when juicy grapes are held before his thirsting lips to be withdrawn, as from tantalus, ere he can taste them? you came hither with the assurance of your favour; but the flattering words of promise which you bestowed upon the unhappy woman were probably only the drops of poppy-juice given to soothe the ravings of fever. was the favour which you permitted me to see and anticipate for the future merely intended to delude a miserable--" but she went no further; octavianus, with dignified bearing and loud, clear tones, interrupted "whoever believes the heir of caesar capable of shamefully deceiving a noble woman, a queen, the object of his illustrious uncle's love, insults and wounds him; but the just anger which overmastered you may serve as your apology. ay," he added in a totally different tone, "i might even have cause to be grateful for this indignation, and to wish for another opportunity to witness the outbreak of passion though in its unbridled fierceness--the royal lioness is scarcely aware of her own beauty when the tempest of wrath sweeps her away. what must she be when it is love that constrains the flame of her glowing soul to burst into a blaze?" "her glowing soul!" cleopatra eagerly repeated, and the desire awoke to subjugate this man who had so confidently boasted of his power of resistance. though he might be stronger than many others, he certainly was not invincible. and aware of her still unbroken sway over the hearts of men, her eyes sparkled with the alluring radiance of love, and a bewitching smile brightened her face. the young imperator's heart began to chafe under the curb and to beat more quickly, his cheeks flushed and paled by turns. how she gazed at him! what if she loved the nephew as she had once loved the uncle who, through her, had learned what bliss life can offer? ay, it must be happiness to kiss those lips, to be clasped in those exquisite arms, to hear one's own name tenderly spoken by those musical tones. even the magnificent marble statue of ariadne, which he had seen in athens, had not displayed to his gaze lines more beautiful than those of the woman reclining on yonder pillows. who could venture to speak in her presence of vanished charms? ah, no! the spell which had conquered julius caesar was as vivid, as potent as ever. he himself felt its power; he was young, and after such unremitting exertions he too yearned to quaff the nectar of the noblest joys, to steep body and soul in peerless bliss. so, with a hasty movement, he took one step towards her couch, resolved to grasp her hands and raise them to his lips. his ardent gaze answered hers; but surprised by the power which, though so heavily burdened with physical and mental suffering, she still possessed over the strongest and coldest of men, she perceived what was passing in his soul, and a smile of triumph, blended with the most bitter contempt, hovered around her beautiful lips. should she dupe him into granting her wishes by feigning love for the first time? should she yield to the man who had insulted her, in order to induce him to accord the children their rights? should she, to gratify her lover's foe, relinquish the sacred grief which was drawing her after him, give posterity and her children the right to call her, instead of the most loyal of the loyal, a dishonoured woman, who sold herself for power? to all these questions came a prompt denial. the single stride which octavianus had made towards her, his eyes aflame with love, gave her the right to feel that she had vanquished the victor, and the proud delight of triumph was too plainly reflected in her mobile features to escape the penetrating, distrustful gaze of the subjugated caesar. but he had scarcely perceived what threatened him, and remembered her words concerning his famous uncle's surrender only to her and to death, when he succeeded in conquering his quickly kindled senses. blushing at his own weakness, he averted his eyes from the queen, and when he met those of proculejus and the other witnesses of the scene, he realized the abyss on whose verge he stood. he had half succumbed to the danger of losing, by a moment's weakness, the fruit of great sacrifices and severe exertions. his expressive eyes, which had just rested rapturously upon a beautiful woman, now scanned the spectators with the stern glance of a monarch and, apparently wishing to moderate an excess of flattering recognition which might be misinterpreted, he said in an almost pedagogical tone: "yet we would rather see the noble lioness in the majestic repose which best suits all sovereigns. it is difficult for a calm, deliberate nature like mine to understand an ardent, quickly kindling heart." cleopatra had watched this sudden transition with more surprise than disappointment. octavianus had half surrendered to her, but recovered his self-command in time, and a man of his temperament does not readily succumb twice to a danger which he barely escaped. and this was well! he should learn that he had misunderstood the glance which fired his heart; so she answered distantly, with majestic dignity: "misery such as mine quenches all ardour. and love? woman's heart is ever open to it, save where it has lost the desire for power and pleasure. you are young and happy, therefore your soul still yearns for love--i know that--though not for mine. to me, on the contrary, one suitor only is welcome, he with the lowered torch, whom you keep aloof from me. with him alone is to be found the boon for which this soul has longed from childhood--painless peace! you smile. my past gives you the right to do so. i will not lessen it. each individual lives his or her own life. few understand the changes of their own existence, far less those of a stranger's. the world has witnessed how peace fled from my path, or i from hers, and yet i see the possibility of finding the way. i am safe from the only things which would debar me from those joys --humiliation and disgrace." here she hesitated; then, as if in explanation, continued in the sweetest tones at her command: "your generosity, i think, will guard from these two foes the woman whom just now--i did not fail to see it--you considered worthy of a more than gracious glance. i shall treasure it among memories which will never fade. but now, illustrious imperator! tell me, what is your decision concerning me and the children? what may we hope from your favour?" "that octavianus will be more and more warmly animated by the desire to accord you and yours a worthy destiny, the more firmly you expect that he will attest his generosity." "and if i fulfil this desire and expect from you everything that is great and noble--the condition is not difficult--what proofs of your graciousness will then await us?" "paint them with all the fervour of that vivid power of imagination which interpreted even my glance in your favour, and devised the marvels by which you rendered the greatest and most brilliant man in rome the happiest of mortals. but--by zeus!--it is the fourth hour after noonday!" a glance from the window had caused the exclamation. then, pressing his hand upon his heart, he continued in a tone of the most sincere regret "how gladly i would prolong this fascinating conversation, but important matters which, unfortunately, cannot be deferred, summon me--" "and your answer?" cried cleopatra, panting for breath and gazing at him with eyes full of expectation. "must i repeat it?" he asked with impatient haste. "very well, then. in return for implicit confidence on your part, favour, forgiveness, cordiality, every consideration which you can justly desire. your heart is so rich in warmth of feeling, grant me but a small share of it and ask tangible gifts in return. they are already bestowed." then greeting her like a friend who is reluctant to say farewell, he hastily left the apartment. "gone--gone!" cried iras as the door closed behind him. "an eel that slips from the hand which strives to hold him." "northern ice," added cleopatra gloomily as charmian aided her to find a more comfortable position. "as smooth as it is cold; there is nothing more to hope." "yes, my royal mistress, yes," iras eagerly protested. "dolabella is waiting for him in the philadelphus court-yard. from him--you have his promise--we shall learn what octavianus has in store for you." in truth, the caesar did find the youth at the first gate of the palace, inspecting his superb cyrenean horses. "magnificent animals!" cried octavianus; "a gift from the city! will you drive with me?--a remarkable, a very remarkable woman!" "isn't she?" asked dolabella eagerly. "undoubtedly," replied the caesar. "but though she might almost be your mother, an uncommonly dangerous one for youths of your age. what a melting voice, what versatility, what fervour! and yet such regal grace in every movement! but i wish to stifle, not to fan, the spark which perhaps has already fallen into your heart. and the play, the farce which she just enacted before me in the midst of most serious matters!" he uttered a low, short laugh; but dolabella exclaimed expectantly: "you rarely laugh, but this conversation--apparently--excites your mirth. so the result was satisfactory?" "let us hope so. i was as gracious to her as possible." "that is delightful. may i know in what manner your kindness and wisdom have shaped her future? or, rather, what did you promise the vanquished queen?" "my favour, if she will trust me." "proculejus and i will continue to strengthen her confidence. and if we succeed--?" "then, as i have said, she will have my favour--a generous abundance of favour." "but her future destiny? what fate will you bestow on her and her children?" "whatever the degree of her confidence deserves." here he hesitated, for he met dolabella's earnest, troubled gaze, which was blended with a shade of reproach. octavianus desired to retain the enthusiastic admiration of the youth, who perhaps was destined to lofty achievements, so he continued in a confidential tone: "to you, my young friend, i can venture to speak more frankly. i will gladly grant the most aspiring wishes of this fascinating and, i repeat, very remarkable woman, but first i need her for my triumph. the romans would have cause to reproach me if i deprived them of the sight of this queen, this peerless woman, in many respects the first of her time. we shall soon set out for syria. the queen and her children i shall send in three days to rome. if, in the triumphal procession there, she creates the sensation i anticipate from a spectacle so worthy of admiration, she shall learn how i reward those who oblige me." dolabella had listened in silence. when the caesar entered the carriage, he requested permission to remain behind. octavianus drove alone eastward to the camp where, in the vicinity of the hippodrome, men were surveying the ground on which the suburb of nikopolis--city of victory--was to be built to commemorate for future generations the victory of the first emperor over antony and cleopatra. it grew, but never attained any great importance. the noble cornelius gazed indignantly after his sovereign's fiery steeds; then, drawing up his stately figure to its full height, he entered the palace with a firm step. the act might cost him his life, but he would do what he believed to be his duty to the noble woman who had honoured him with her friendship. this rare sovereign was too good to feast the eyes of the rabble. a few minutes later cleopatra knew her impending ignominy. chapter xxv. the next morning the queen had many whispered conversations with charmian, and the latter with anukis. the day before, archibius's gardener had brought to his master's sister some unusually fine figs, which grew in the old garden of epicurus. this fruit was also mentioned, and anukis went to kanopus, and thence, in the steward's carriage, with a basket of the very best ones to the fish-market. there she had a great deal to say to pyrrhus, and the freedman went to his boat with the figs. shortly after the nubian's return the queen came back to the palace from the mausoleum. her features bore an impress of resolution usually alien to them; nay, the firmly compressed lips gave them an expression of actual sternness. she knew what duty required, and regarded her approaching end as an inevitable necessity. death seemed to her like a journey which she must take in order to escape the most terrible disgrace. besides, life after the death of antony was no longer the same; it had been only a tiresome delay and waiting for the children's sake. the visit to the tomb had been intended, as it were, to announce her coming to her husband. she had remained a long time in the silent hall, where she had garlanded the coffin with flowers, kissed it, talked to the dead man as if he were still alive, and told him that the day had come when what he had mentioned in his will as the warmest desire of his heart--to rest beside her in the same tomb--would be fulfilled. among the thousand forms of suffering which had assailed her, nothing had seemed so hard to bear as to be deprived of his society and love. then she had gone into the garden, embraced and kissed the children, and entreated them to remember her tenderly. her purpose had not been concealed from archibius, but charmian had told him the menace of the future, and he approved her decision. by the exertion of all his innate strength of will, he succeeded in concealing the grief which rent his faithful heart. she must die. the thought of seeing her adorn the triumphal procession of octavianus was unbearable to him also. her thanks and entreaties to be an affectionate guardian to the children were received with an external calmness which afterwards seemed to him utterly incomprehensible. when she spoke of her approaching meeting with her lover, he asked whether she had entirely abandoned the teachings of epicurus, who believed that death absolutely ended existence. cleopatra eagerly assented, saying: "absence of pain has ceased to appear to me the chief earthly blessing, since i have known that love does not bring pleasure only, since i have learned that pain is the inseparable companion of love. i will not give it up, nor will i part from my lover. whoever experiences what fate has allotted to me has learned to know other gods than those whom the master described as dwelling happily in undisturbed repose. rather eternal torture in another world, united to the man i love, than painless, joyless mere existence in a desolate, incomprehensible, unknown region! you will be the last to teach the children to yearn for freedom from pain--" "because, like you," cried archibius, "i have learned how great a blessing is love, and that love is pain." as he spoke he bent over her hand to kiss it, but she took his temples between her hands and, bending hastily, pressed her lips on his broad brow. then his self-control vanished, and, sobbing aloud, he hurried back to the children. cleopatra gazed after him with a sorrowful smile, and leaning on charmian's arm, she entered the palace. there she was bathed and, robed in costly mourning garments, reclined among her cushions to take breakfast, which was usually served at this hour. iras and charmian shared it. when dessert was carried in, the nubian brought a basket filled with delicious figs. a peasant, she told epaphroditus, who was watching the meal, had given them to her because they were so remarkably fine. some had already been snatched by the guards. the queen and her companions ate a little of the fruit, and proculejus, who had come to greet cleopatra, was also persuaded to taste one of the finest figs. at the end of the meal cleopatra wished to rest. the roman gentlemen and the guards retired. at last the women were alone, and gazed at each other silently. charmian timidly lifted the upper layer of the fruit, but the queen said mournfully: "the wife of antony dragged through the streets of rome behind the victor's chariot, a spectacle for the populace and envious matrons! "then, starting up, she exclaimed: "what a thought! was it too great for octavianus, or too petty? he who so loudly boasts his knowledge of mankind expects this impossibility from the woman who revealed her inmost soul to him as fully as he concealed his from her. we will show him how small is his comprehension of human nature, and teach him modesty." a contemptuous smile flitted over her beautiful lips as, with rapid movements, she flung handful after handful of figs on the table, till she saw some thing stirring under the fruit, and with a sigh of relief exclaimed under her breath: "there it is!" as with hasty resolution she held out her arm towards the asp, which hissed at her. while gazing intently at the movements of the viper, which seemed afraid to fulfil the dread office, she said to her attendants: "i thank you-thank you for everything. be calm. you know, iras, it will cause no pain. they say it is like falling asleep." then she shuddered slightly, adding: "death is a solemn thing; yet it must be. why does the serpent delay? there, there; i will keep firm. ambition and love were the moving forces of my life. men shall praise my memory.--i follow you, mark antony!" charmian bent over the left arm of her royal mistress, which hung loosely at her side, and, weeping aloud, covered it with kisses, while cleopatra, watching the motions of the asp still more closely, added: "the peace of our garden of epicurus will begin to-day. whether it will be painless, who can tell? yet--there i agree with archibius--life's greatest joy--love--is blended with pain, as yonder branch of exquisite roses from dolabella, the last gift of friendship, has its sharp thorns. i think you have both experienced this. the twins and my little darling --when they think of their mother and her end, will not the children--" here she uttered a low cry. the asp had struck its fangs into the upper part of her arm like an icy flash of lightning, and a few instants later cleopatra sank back upon her pillows lifeless. iras, pale but calm, pointed to her, saying "like a sleeping child. bewitching even in death. fate itself was constrained to do her will and fulfil the last desire of the great queen, the victorious woman, whom no heart resisted. its decree shatters the presumptuous plan of octavianus. the victor will show himself to the romans without thee, thou dear one." sobbing violently, she bent over the inanimate form, closed the eyes, and kissed the lips and brow. the weeping charmian did the same. then the footsteps of men were heard in the anteroom, and iras, who was the first to notice them, cried eagerly: "the moment is approaching! i am glad it is close at hand. does it not seem to you also as if the very sun in the heavens was darkened?" charmian nodded assent, and whispered, "the poison?" "here!" replied iras calmly, holding out a plain pin. "one little prick, and the deed will be done. look! but no. you once inflicted the deepest suffering upon me. you know--dion, the playmate of my childhood --it is forgiven. but now--you will do me a kindness. you will spare my using the pin myself. will you not? i will repay you. if you wish, my hand shall render you the same service." charmian clasped her niece to her heart, kissed her, pricked her arm lightly, and gave her the other pin, saying: "now it is your turn. our hearts were filled with love for one who understood how to bestow it as none other ever did, and our love was returned. what matters all else that we sacrificed? those on whom the sun shines need no other light. love is pain," she said in dying, "but this pain--especially that of renunciation for love's sake--bears with it a joy, an exquisite joy, which renders death easy. to me it seems as if it were merely following the queen to--oh, that hurt!" iras's pin had pricked her. the poison did its work quickly. iras was seized with giddiness, and could scarcely stand. charmian had just sunk on her knees, when some one knocked loudly at the closed door, and the voices of epaphroditus and proculejus imperiously demanded admittance. when no answer followed, the lock was hastily burst open. charmian was found lying pale and distorted at the feet of her royal mistress; but iras, tottering and half stupefied by the poison, was adjusting the diadem, which had slipped from its place. to keep from her beloved queen everything that could detract from her beauty had been her last care. enraged, fairly frantic with wrath, the romans rushed towards the women. epaphroditus had seen iras still occupied in arranging cleopatra's ornaments. now he endeavoured to raise her companion, saying reproachfully, "charmian, was this well done?" summoning her last strength, she answered in a faltering voice, "perfectly well, and worthy a descendant of egyptian kings." her eyes closed, but proculejus, the author, who had gazed long with deep emotion into the beautiful proud face of the queen whom he had so greatly wronged, said: "no other woman on earth was ever so admired by the greatest, so loved by the loftiest. her fame echoed from nation to nation throughout the world. it will continue to resound from generation to generation; but however loudly men may extol the bewitching charm, the fervour of the love which survived death, her intellect, her knowledge, the heroic courage with which she preferred the tomb to ignominy--the praise of these two must not be forgotten. their fidelity deserves it. by their marvellous end they unconsciously erected the most beautiful monument to their mistress; for what genuine goodness and lovableness must have been possessed by the woman who, after the greatest reverses, made it seem more desirable to those nearest to her person to die than to live without her!" [the roman's exclamation and the answer of the loyal dying charmian are taken literally from plutarch's narrative.] the news of the death of their beloved, admired sovereign transformed alexandria into a house of mourning. obsequies of unprecedented magnificence and solemnity, at which many tears of sincere grief flowed, honoured her memory. one of octavianus's most brilliant plans was frustrated by her death, and he had raved furiously when he read the letter in which cleopatra, with her own hand, informed him of her intention to die. but he owed it to his reputation for generosity to grant her a funeral worthy of her rank. to the dead, who had ceased to be dangerous, he was ready to show an excess of magnanimity. the treatment which he accorded to cleopatra's children also won the world's admiration. his sister octavia received them into her own house and intrusted their education to archibius. when the order to destroy the statues of antony and cleopatra was issued, octavianus gave his contemporaries another proof of his disposition to be lenient, for he ordered that the numerous statues of the queen in alexandria and egypt should be preserved. true, he had been influenced by the large sum of two thousand talents paid by an alexandrian to secure this act of generosity. archibius was the name of the rare friend who had impoverished himself to render this service to the memory of the beloved dead. in later times the statues of the unfortunate queen adorned the places where they had been erected. the sarcophagi of cleopatra and mark antony, by whose side rested iras and charmian, were constantly heaped with flowers and offerings to the dead. the women of alexandria, especially, went to the tomb of their beloved queen as if it were a pilgrimage; but in after-days faithful mourners also came from a distance to visit it, among them the children of the famous lovers whom death here united--cleopatra selene, now the wife of the learned numidian prince juba, helios antony, and alexander, who had reached manhood. their friend and teacher, archibius, accompanied them. he taught them to hold their mother's memory dear, and had so reared them that, in their maturity, he could lead them with head erect to the sarcophagus of the friend who had confided them to his charge. etext editor's bookmarks: pain is the inseparable companion of love this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] cleopatra by georg ebers volume . chapter xv. charmain went towards her own apartments. how often she had had a similar experience! in the midst of the warmest admiration for this rare woman's depth of feeling, masculine strength of intellect, tireless industry, watchful care for her native land, steadfast loyalty, and maternal devotion, she had been sobered in the most pitiable way. she had been forced to see cleopatra, for the sake of realizing a childish dream, and impressing her lover, squander vast sums, which diminished the prosperity of her subjects; place great and important matters below the vain, punctilious care of her own person; forget, in petty jealousy, the justice and kindness which were marked traits in her character; and, though the most kindly and womanly of sovereigns, suffer herself to be urged by angry excitement to inflict outrage on a subject whose acts had awakened her displeasure. the lofty ambition which had inspired her noblest and most praiseworthy deeds had more than once been the source of acts which she herself regretted. when a child, she could not endure to be surpassed in difficult tasks, and still deemed it a necessity to be first and peerless. hence the unfortunate circumstance that antony had given barine the counterpart of an armlet which she herself wore as a gift from her lover, was perhaps the principal cause of her bitter resentment against the hapless woman. charmian had seen cleopatra forgive freely and generously many a wrong, nay, many an affront, inflicted upon her; but to see herself placed by her husband on the same plane as a barine, even in the most trivial matter, might easily seem to her an unbearable insult; and the mishap which had befallen caesarion, in consequence of his foolish passion for the young beauty, gave her a right to punish her rival. deeply anxious concerning the fate of the woman in her care--greatly agitated, moreover, and exhausted physically and mentally--charmian sought her own apartments. here she hoped to find solace in barine's cheerful and equable nature; here the helpful hands of her dark-skinned maid and confidante awaited her. the sun was low in the western horizon when she entered the anteroom. the members of the body-guard who were on duty told her that nothing unusual had occurred, and with a sigh of relief she passed into the sitting-room. but the ethiopian, who usually came to meet her with words of welcome, took her veil and wraps, and removed her shoes, was absent. today no one greeted her. not until she entered the second room, which she had assigned to her guest, did she find barine, who was weeping bitterly. during charmian's absence the latter had received a letter from alexas, in which he informed her that he was ordered by the queen to subject her to an examination the next morning. her cause looked dark but, if she did not render his duty harder by the harshness which had formerly caused him much pain, he would do his utmost to protect her from imprisonment, forced labour in the mines, or even worse misfortunes. the imprudent game which she had played with king caesarion had unfortunately roused the people against her. the depth of their indignation was shown by the fury with which they had assailed the house of her grandfather, didymus. nothing could save dion, who had audaciously attacked the illustrious son of their beloved queen, from the rage of the populace. he, alexas, knew that in this dion she would lose a friend and protector, but he would be disposed to take his place if her conduct did not render it impossible for him to unite mercy with justice. this shameful letter, which promised barine clemency in return for her favour without unmasking him in his character of judge, explained to charmian the agitation in which she found her friend's daughter. it was doubtless a little relief to barine to express her loathing and abhorrence of alexas as eagerly as her gentle nature would permit, but fear, grief, and indignation continued to struggle for the mastery in her oppressed soul. it would have been expected that the keen-witted woman would have eagerly inquired what charmian had accomplished with the queen and archibius, and what new events had happened to affect cleopatra, the state, and the city; but she questioned her with far deeper interest concerning the welfare of her lover, desiring information in regard to many things of which her friend could give no tidings. in her brief visit to dion's couch she had not learned how he bore his own misfortunes and barine's, what view he took of the future, or what he expected from the woman he loved. charmian's ignorance and silence in regard to these very matters increased the anxiety of the endangered woman, who saw not only her own life, but those dearest to her, seriously threatened. so she entreated her hostess to relieve her from the uncertainty which was harder to endure than the most terrible reality; but the latter either could not or would not give her any further details of cleopatra's intentions, or the fate and present abode of her grandparents and helena. this increased her anxiety, for if alexas's information was correct, her family must be homeless. when charmian at last admitted that she had seen dion only a few minutes, the tortured barine's power of quiet endurance gave way. she, whose nature was so hopeful that, when the glow of the sunset faded, she already anticipated with delight the rosy dawn of the next day, now beheld in cleopatra's hand the reed which was to sign the death-sentence of dion and herself. her mental vision conjured up her relatives wounded by the falling house or bleeding under the stones hurled by the raging populace. she heard alexas command the executioner to subject her to the rack, and fancied that anukis had not returned because she had failed to find dion. the queen's soldiers had probably carried him to prison, loaded with chains, if philostratus had not already instigated the mob to drag him through the streets. with feverish impetuosity, which alarmed charmian the more because it was so unlike her old friend's daughter, barine described all the spectres with which her imagination--agitated by terror, longing, love, and loathing--terrified her; but the former exerted all the power of eloquence she possessed, by turns reproving her and loading her with caresses, in order to soothe her and rouse her from her despair. but nothing availed. at last she succeeded in persuading the unhappy woman to go with her to the window, which afforded a most beautiful view. westward, beyond the heptastadium, the sun was sinking below the forests of masts in the harbour of the eunostus; and charmian, who had learned from her intercourse with the royal children how to soothe a troubled young heart, to divert barine's thoughts, directed her attention to the crimson glow in the western sky, and told her how her father, the artist, had showed her the superb brilliancy which colours gained at this hour of the day, even when the west was less radiant than now. but barine, who usually could never gaze her fill at such a spectacle, did not thank her, for this sunset reminded her of another which she had lately watched at dion's side, and she again broke into convulsive sobs. charmian, not knowing what to do, passed her arm around her. just at that moment the door was hurriedly thrown open, and anukis, the nubian, entered. her mistress knew that something unusual must have happened to detain her so long from her post at barine's side, and her appearance showed that she had been attending to important matters which had severely taxed her strength. her shining dark skin looked ashen grey, her high forehead, surrounded by tangled woolly locks, was dripping with perspiration, and her thick lips were pale. although she must have undergone great fatigue, she did not seem in need of rest; for, after greeting the ladies, apologizing for her long absence, and telling barine that this time dion had seemed to her half on the way to recovery, a rapid side glance at her mistress conveyed an entreaty that she would follow her into the next room. but the language of the nubian's eyes had not escaped the suspicious watchfulness of the anxious barine and, overwhelmed with fresh terror, she begged that she might hear all. charmian ordered her maid to speak openly; but anukis, ere she began, assured them that she had received the news she brought from a most trustworthy source--only it would make a heavy demand upon the resolution and courage of barine, whom she had hoped to find in a very different mood. there was no time to lose. she was expected at the appointed place an hour after sunset. here charmian interrupted the maid with the exclamation "impossible!" and reminded her of the guards which alexas, aided by iras, who was thoroughly familiar with the palace, had stationed the day before in the anteroom, at all the doors--nay, even beneath the windows. the nubian replied that everything had been considered; but, to gain time, she must beg barine to let her colour her skin and curl her hair while she was talking. the surprise visible in the young beauty's face caused her to exclaim: "only act with entire confidence. you shall learn everything directly. there is so much to tell! on the way here i had planned how to relate the whole story in regular order, but it can't be done now. no, no! whoever wants to save a flock of sheep from a burning shed must lead out the bell-wether first--the main thing, i mean--so i will begin with that, though it really comes last. the explanation of how all this--" here, like a cry of joy, barine's exclamation interrupted her: "i am to fly, and dion knows it and will follow me! i see it in your face." in fact, every feature of the dusky maid-servant's ugly face betrayed that pleasant thoughts were agitating her mind. her black eyes flashed with fearless daring, and a smile beautified her big mouth and thick lips as she replied: "a loving heart like yours understands the art of prophecy better than the chief priest of the great serapis. yes, my young mistress, he of whom you speak must disappear from this wicked city where so much evil threatens you both. he will certainly escape and, if the immortals aid us and we are wise and brave, you also. whence the help comes can be told later. now, the first thing is to transform you--don't be reluctant--into the ugliest woman in the world--black anukis. you must escape from the palace in this disguise.--now you know the whole plan, and while i get what is necessary from my chest of clothes, i beg you, mistress, to consider how we are to obtain the black stains for that ivory skin and golden hair." with these words she left the room, but barine flung herself into her friend's arms, exclaiming, amid tears and laughter: "though i should be forced to remain forever as black and crooked as faithful aisopion, if he did not withdraw his love, though i were obliged to go through fire and water--i would o charmian! what changes so quickly as joy and sorrow? i would fain show some kindness to every one in the world, even to your queen, who has brought all these troubles upon me." the new-born hope had transformed the despairing woman into a happy one, and charmian perceived it with grateful joy, secretly wishing that cleopatra had listened to her appeal. while examining the hair-dyes used by the queen she saw, lurking in the background of what was still unexplained, and therefore confused her mind, fresh and serious perils. barine, on the contrary, gazed across them to the anticipated meeting with her lover, and was full of the gayest expectation until the maid-servant's return. the work of disfigurement began without delay. anukis moved her lips as busily as her hands, and described in regular order all that had befallen her during the eventful day. barine listened with rising excitement, and her joy increased as she beheld the path which had been smoothed for her by the care and wisdom of her friends. charmian, on the contrary, became graver and more quiet the more distinctly she perceived the danger her favourite must encounter. yet she could not help admitting that it would be a sin against barine's safety, perhaps her very life, to withhold her from this well-considered plan of escape. that it must be tried was certain; but as the moment which was to endanger the woman she loved drew nearer, and she could not help saying to herself that she was aiding an enterprise in opposition to the express command of the queen and helping to execute a plan which threatened to rouse the indignation, perhaps the fury, of cleopatra, a feeling of sorrow overpowered her. she feared nothing for herself. not for a single instant did she think of the unpleasant consequences which barine's escape might draw upon her. the burden on her soul was due only to the consciousness of having, for the first time, opposed the will of the sovereign, to fulfil whose desires and to promote whose aims had been the beloved duty of her life. doubtless the thought crossed her mind that, by aiding barine's escape, she was guarding cleopatra from future repentance; probably she felt sure that it was her duty to help rescue this beautiful young life, whose bloom had been so cruelly assailed by tempest and hoar-frost, and which now had a prospect of the purest happiness; yet, though in itself commendable, the deed brought her into sharp conflict with the loftiest aims and aspirations of her life. and how much nearer than the other was the woman--she shrank from the word-- whom she was about to betray, how much greater was cleopatra's claim to her love and gratitude! could she have any other emotion than thankfulness if the plan of escape succeeded? yet she was reluctant to perform the task of making barine's beautiful, symmetrical figure resemble the hunch-backed nubian's, or to dip her fingers into the pomade intended for cleopatra; and it grieved her to mar the beauty of barine's luxuriant tresses by cutting off part of her thick fair braids. true, these things could not be avoided, if the flight was to succeed, and the further anukis advanced in her story, the fewer became her mistress's objections to the plan. the conversation between iras and alexas, which had been overheard by the maid, already made it appear necessary to withdraw barine and her lover from the power of such foes. the faithful man whom anukis had found with dion, whose name she did not mention and of whose home she said only that no safer hiding-place could be found, even by the mole which burrowed in the earth, really seemed to have been sent with gorgias to dion's couch by fate itself. the control of the subterranean chambers in the temple of isis which had been bestowed on the architect, also appeared like a miracle. upon a small tablet, which the wise aisopion had intentionally delayed handing to her mistress until now, were the lines: "archibius greets his sister charmian. if i know your heart, it will be as hard for you as for me to share this plot, yet it must be done for the sake of her father, to save the life and happiness of his child. so it must fall to your lot to bring barine to the temple of isis at the corner of the muses. she will find her lover there and, if possible, be wedded to him. as the sanctuary is so near, you need leave the palace only a short time. do not tell barine what we have planned. the disappointment would be too great if it should prove impracticable." this letter and the arrangement it proposed transformed the serious scruples which shadowed charmian's good-will into a joyous, nay, enthusiastic desire to render assistance. barine's marriage to the man who possessed her heart was close at hand, and she was the daughter of leonax, who had once been dear to her. fear and doubt vanished as if scattered to the four winds, and when aisopion's work of transformation was completed and barine stood before her as the high-shouldered, dark- visaged, wrinkled maid, she could not help admitting that it would be easy to escape from the palace in that disguise. she now told barine that she intended to accompany her herself; and though the former's stained face forced her to refrain from kissing her friend, she plainly expressed to her and the faithful freedwoman the overflowing gratitude which filled her heart. anukis was left alone. after carefully removing all the traces of her occupation, as habit dictated, she raised her arms in prayer, beseeching the gods of her native land to protect the beautiful woman to whom she had loaned her own misshapen form, which had now been of genuine service, and who had gone forth to meet so many dangers, but also a happiness whose very hope had been denied to her. charmian had told her maid that if the queen should inquire for her before iras returned from the choma to say that she had been obliged to leave the palace, and to supply her place. during their absence, when charmian had been attacked by sickness, cleopatra had often entrusted the care of her toilet to aisopion, and had praised her skill. the queen's confidential attendant was followed as usual when she went out by a dark-skinned maid. lanterns and lamps had already been lighted in the corridors of the spacious palace, and the court-yards were ablaze with torches and pitch-pans; but, brilliantly as they burned in many places, and numerous as were the guards, officers, eunuchs, clerks, soldiers, cooks, attendants, slaves, door-keepers, and messengers whom they passed, not one gave them more than a careless glance. so they reached the last court-yard, and then came a moment when the hearts of both women seemed to stop beating--for the man whom they had most cause to dread, alexas the syrian, approached. and he did not pass the fugitives, but stopped charmian, and courteously, even obsequiously, informed her that he wished to get rid of the troublesome affair of her favourite, which had been assigned to him against his will, and therefore had determined to bring barine to trial early the following morning. the syrian's body-servant attended his master, and while the former was talking with charmian the latter turned to the supposed nubian, tapped her lightly on the shoulder, and whispered: "come this evening, as you did yesterday. you haven't finished the story of prince setnau." the fugitive felt as if she had grown dumb and could never more regain the power of speech. yet she managed to nod, and directly after the favourite bowed a farewell to charmian. the ligurian was obliged to follow his master, while charmian and barine passed through the gateway between the last pylons into the open air. here the sea-breeze seemed to waft her a joyous greeting from the realm of liberty and happiness, and the timid woman, amid all the perils which surrounded her, regained sufficient presence of mind to tell her friend what alexas's slave had whispered--that aisopion might remind him of it the same evening, and thus strengthen his belief that the nubian had accompanied the queen's confidante. the way to the temple of isis was short. the stars showed that they would reach their destination in time; but a second delay unexpectedly occurred. from the steps leading to the cella of the sanctuary a procession, whose length seemed endless, came towards them. at the head of the train marched eight pastophori, bearing the image of isis. then came the basket-bearers of the goddess with several other priestesses, followed by the reader with an open book-roll. behind him appeared the quaternary number of prophets, whose head, the chief priest, moved with stately dignity beneath a canopy. the rest of the priestly train bore in their hands manuscripts, sacred vessels, standards, and wreaths. the priestesses--some of whom, with garlands on their flowing hair, were already shaking the sistrum of isis--mingled with the line of priests, their high voices blending with the deep notes of the men. neokori, or temple servants, and a large number of worshippers of isis, closed the procession, all wearing wreaths and carrying flowers. torch and lantern bearers lighted the way, and the perfume of the incense rising from the little pan of charcoal in the hand of a bronze arm, which the pastophori waved to and fro, surrounded and floated after the procession. the two women waiting for the train to pass saw it turn towards lochias, and the conversation of the bystanders informed them that its object was to convey to "the new isis," the queen, the greeting of the goddess, and assure the sovereign of the divinity's remembrance of her in the hour of peril. cleopatra could not help accepting this friendly homage, and it was incumbent upon her to receive it wearing on her head the crown of upper and lower egypt, and robed in all the ecclesiastical vestments which only her two most trusted attendants knew how to put on with the attention to details that custom required. this had never been entrusted to maids of inferior position like the nubian; so cleopatra would miss charmian. the thought filled her with fresh uneasiness and, when the steps were at last free, she asked herself anxiously how all this would end. it seemed as if the fugitive and her companion had exposed themselves to this great peril in vain; for some of the temple servants were forcing back those who wished to enter the sanctuary, shouting that it would be closed until the return of the procession. barine gazed timidly into charmian's face; but, ere she could express her opinion, the tall figure of a man appeared on the temple steps. it was archibius, who with grave composure bade them follow him, and silently led them around the sanctuary to a side door, through which, a short time before, a litter had passed, accompanied by several attendants. ascending a flight of steps within the long building, they reached the dimly lighted cella. as in the temple of osiris at abydos seven corridors, here three led to the same number of apartments, the holy place of the sanctuary. the central one was dedicated to isis, that on the left to her husband osiris, and that on the right to horus, the son of the great goddess. before it, scarcely visible in the dim light, stood the altars, loaded with sacrifices by archibius. beside that of horus was the litter which had been borne into the temple before the arrival of the women. from it, supported by two friends, descended a slender young man. a hollow sound echoed through the pillared hall. the iron door at the main entrance of the temple had been closed. the shrill rattle that followed proceeded from the metal bolts which an old servant of the sanctuary had shot into the sockets. barine started, but neither inquired the cause of the noise nor perceived the wealth of objects here presented to the senses; for the man who, leaning on another's arm, approached the altar, was dion, the lover who had perilled his life for her sake. her eyes rested intently on his figure, her whole heart yearned towards him and, unable to control herself,--she called his name aloud. charmian gazed anxiously around the group, but soon uttered a sigh of relief; for the tall man whose arm supported dion was gorgias, the worthy architect, his best friend, and the other, still taller and stronger, her own brother archibius. yonder figure, emerging from the disguise of wraps, was berenike, barine's mother. all trustworthy confidants! the only person whom she did not know was the handsome young man standing at her brother's side. barine, whose arm she still held, had struggled to escape to rush to her mother and lover; but archibius had approached, and in a whisper warned her to be patient and to refrain from any greeting or question, "supposing," he added, "that you are willing to be married at this altar to dion, the son of eumenes." charmian felt barine's arm tremble in hers at this suggestion, but the young beauty obeyed her friend's directions. she did not know what had be fallen her, or whether, in the excess of happiness which overwhelmed her, to shout aloud in her exultant joy, or melt into silent tears of gratitude and emotion. no one spoke. archibius took a roll of manuscript from dion's hand, presented himself before the assembled company as the bride's kyrios, or guardian, and asked barine whether she so recognized him. then he returned to dion the marriage contract, whose contents he knew and approved, and informed those present that, in the marriage about to be solemnized, they must consider him the paranymphos, or best man, and berenike as the bridesmaid, and they instantly lighted a torch at the fires burning on one of the altars. archibius, as kyrios, joined the lovers' hands in the egyptian--barine's mother, as bridesmaid, in the greek-manner, and dion gave his bride a plain iron ring. it was the same one which his father had bestowed at his own wedding, and he whispered: "my mother valued it; now it is your turn to honour the ancient treasure." after stating that the necessary sacrifices had been offered to isis and serapis, zeus, hera, and artemis, and that the marriage between dion, son of eumenes, and barine, daughter of leonax, was concluded, archibius shook hands with both. haste seemed necessary, for he permitted berenike and his sister only time for a brief embrace, and gorgias to clasp her hand and dion's. then he beckoned, and the newly made bride's mother followed him in tears, charmian bewildered and almost stupefied. she did not fully realize the meaning of the event she had just witnessed until an old neokori had guided her and the others into the open air. barine felt as if every moment might rouse her from a blissful dream, and yet she gladly told herself that she was awake, for the man walking before her, leaning on the arm of a friend, was dion. true, she saw, even in the faint light of the dim temple corridor, that he was suffering. walking appeared to be so difficult that she rejoiced when, yielding to gorgias's entreaties, he entered the litter. but where were the bearers? she was soon to learn; for, even while she looked for them, the architect and the youth, in whom she had long since recognized philotas, her grandfather's assistant, seized the poles. "follow us," said gorgias, under his breath, and she obeyed, keeping close behind the litter, which was borne first down a broad and then a narrow staircase, and finally along a passage. here a door stopped the fugitives; but the architect opened it and helped his friend out of the litter, which before proceeding farther he placed in a room filled with various articles discovered during his investigation of the subterranean temple chambers. hitherto not a word had been spoken. now gorgias called to barine: "this passage is low--you must stoop. cover your head, and don't be afraid if you meet bats. they have long been undisturbed. we might have taken you from the temple to the sea, and waited there, but it would probably have attracted attention and been dangerous. courage, young wife of dion! the corridor is long, and walking through it is difficult; but compared with the road to the mines, it is as smooth and easy as the street of the king. if you think of your destination, the bats will seem like the swallows which announce the approach of spring." barine nodded gratefully to him; but she kissed the hand of dion, who was moving forward painfully, leaning on the arm of his friend. the light of the torch carried by gorgias's faithful foreman, who led the way, had fallen on her blackened arm, and when the little party advanced she kept behind the others. she thought it might be unpleasant for her lover to see her thus disfigured, and spared him, though she would gladly have remained nearer. as soon as the passage grew lower, the wounded man's friends took him in their arms, and their task was a hard one, for they were not only obliged to move onward bending low under the heavy burden, but also to beat off the bats which, frightened by the foreman's torch, flew up in hosts. barine's hair was covered, it is true, but at any other time the hideous creatures, which often brushed against her head and arms, would have filled her with horror and loathing. now she scarcely heeded them; her eyes were fixed on the recumbent figure in the bearers' arms, the man to whom she belonged, body and soul, and whose patient suffering pierced her inmost heart. his head rested on the breast of gorgias, who walked directly in front of her; the architect's stooping posture concealed his face, but his feet were visible and, whenever they twitched, she fancied he was in pain. then she longed to press forward to his side, wipe the perspiration from his brow in the hot, low corridor, and whisper words of love and encouragement. this she was sometimes permitted to do when the friends put down their heavy burden. true, they allowed themselves only brief intervals of rest, but they were long enough to show her how the sufferer's strength was failing. when they at last reached their destination, philotas was forced to exert all his strength to support the exhausted man, while gorgias cautiously opened the door. it led to a flight of sea-washed steps close to the garden of didymus, which as a child she had often used with her brother to float a little boat upon the water. the architect opened the door only a short distance; he was expected, for barine soon heard him whisper, and suddenly the door was flung wide. a tall man raised dion and bore him into the open air. while she was still gazing after him, a second figure of equal size approached her and, hastily begging her permission, lifted her in his arms like a child, and as she inhaled the cool night air and felt the water through which her bearer waded splash up and wet her feet, her eyes sought her new-made husband--but in vain; the night was very dark, and the lights on the shore did not reach this spot so far below the walls of the quay. barine was frightened; but a few minutes after the outlines of a large fishing boat loomed through the darkness, dimly illumined by the harbour lights, and the next instant the giant who carried her placed her on the deck, and a deep voice whispered: "all's well. i'll bring some wine at once." then barine saw her husband lying motionless on a couch which had been prepared for him in the prow of the boat. bending over him, she perceived that he had fainted, and while rubbing his forehead with the wine, raising his head on her lap, cheering him, and afterwards by the light of a small lantern carefully renewing the bandage on his shoulder, she did not notice that the vessel was moving through the water until the boatman set the triangular sail. she had not been told where the boat was bearing her, and she did not ask. any spot that she could share with dion was welcome. the more lonely the place, the more she could be to him. how her heart swelled with gratitude and love! when she bent over him, kissed his forehead, and felt how feverishly it burned, she thought, "i will nurse you back to health," and raised her eyes and soul to her favourite god, to whom she owed the gift of song, and who understood everything beautiful and pure, to thank phoebus apollo and beseech him to pour his rays the next morning on a convalescent man. while she was still engaged in prayer the boat touched the shore. again strong arms bore her and dion to the land, and when her foot touched the solid earth, her rescuer, the freedman pyrrhus, broke the silence, saying: "welcome, wife of dion, to our island! true, you must be satisfied to take us as we are. but if you are as content with us as we are glad to serve you and your lord, who is ours also, the hour of leave-taking will be far distant." then, leading the way to the house, he showed her as her future apartments two large whitewashed rooms, whose sole ornament was their exquisite neatness. on the threshold stood pyrrhus's grey-haired wife, a young woman, and a girl scarcely beyond childhood; but the older one modestly welcomed barine, and also begged her to accept their hospitality. recovery was rapid in the pure air of the serpent isle. she herself, and--she pointed to the others--her oldest son's wife, and her own daughter, dione, would be ready to render her any service. chapter xvi. brothers and sisters are rarely talkative when they are together. as charmian went to lochias with archibius, it was difficult for her to find words, the events of the past few hours had agitated her so deeply. archibius, too, could not succeed in turning his thoughts in any other direction, though important and far more momentous things claimed his attention. they walked on silently side by side. in reply to his sister's inquiry where the newly wedded pair were to be concealed, he had answered that, spite of her trustworthiness, this must remain a secret. to her second query, how had it been possible to use the interior of the temple of isis without interruption, he also made a guarded reply. in fact, it was the control of the subterranean corridors of the sanctuary which had suggested to gorgias the idea of carrying dion through them to pyrrhus's fishing-boat. to accomplish this it was only necessary to have the temple of isis, which usually remained open day and night, left to the fugitive's friends for a short time; and this was successfully managed. the historian timagenes, who had come from rome as ambassador and claimed the hospitality of his former pupil archibius, had been empowered to offer cleopatra recognition of her own and her children's right to the throne, and a full pardon, if she would deliver mark antony into the hands of octavianus, or have him put to death. the alexandrian timagenes considered this demand both just and desirable, because it promised to deliver his native city from the man whose despotic arrogance menaced its freedom, and whose lavish generosity and boundless love of splendour diminished its wealth. to rome, as whose representative the historian appeared, this man's mere existence meant constant turmoil and civil war. at the restoration of the flute-player by gabinius and mark antony, timagenes had been carried into slavery. later, when, after his freedom had been purchased by the son of sulla, he succeeded in attaining great influence in rome, he still remained hostile to mark antony, and it had been a welcome charge to work against him in alexandria. he hoped to find an ally in archibius, whose loyal devotion to the queen he knew. arius, barine's uncle and octavianus's former tutor, would also aid him. the most powerful support of his mission, however, could be rendered by the venerable chief priest, the head of the whole egyptian hierarchy. he had shown the latter that antony, in any case, was a lost man, and egypt was in the act of dropping like a ripe fruit into the lap of octavianus. it would soon be in his power to give the country whatever degree of liberty and independence he might choose. the caesar had the sole disposal of the queen's fate also, and whoever desired to see her remain on the throne must strive to gain the good-will of octavianus. the wise anubis had considered all these things, but he owed to timagenes the hint that arius was the man whom octavianus most trusted. so the august prelate secretly entered into communication with barine's uncle. but the dignity of his high office, and the feebleness of extreme age, forbade anubis to seek the man who was suspected of friendship for the romans. he had therefore sent his trusted secretary, the young serapion, to make a compact as his representative with the friend of octavianus, whose severe injuries prevented his leaving the house to go to the chief priest. during timagenes's negotiations with the secretary and arius, archibius came to entreat barine's uncle to do everything in his power to save his niece; and, as all the queen's friends were anxious to prevent an act which, in these times of excitement, could not fail, on account of its connection with dion, a member of the council, to rouse a large number of the citizens against her, serapion, as soon as he was made aware of the matter, eagerly protested his readiness to do his best to save the imperilled lovers. he cared nothing for barine or dion as individuals, but he doubtless would have been ready to make a still greater sacrifice to win the influential archibius, and especially arius, who would have great power through octavianus, the rising sun. the men had just begun to discuss plans for saving barine, when the nubian appeared and told archibius what had been arranged beside dion's sick-bed by the freedman and gorgias. the escape of the fugitives depended solely upon their reaching the boat unseen, and the surest way to accomplish this was to use the subterranean passage which the architect had again opened. archibius, to whom the representative of the chief priest had offered his aid, now took the others into his confidence, and arius proposed that barine should marry dion in the temple of isis, and the couple should afterwards be guided through the secret passage to the boat. this proposal was approved, and serapion promised to reserve the sanctuary for the wedding of the fugitives for a short time after the departure of the procession, which was to take place at sunset. in return for this service another might perhaps soon be requested from the friend of octavianus, who greeted his promise with grateful warmth. "the priesthood," said serapion, "takes sides with all who are unjustly persecuted, and in this case bestows aid the more willingly on account of its great anxiety to guard the queen from an act which would be difficult to approve." as for the fugitives, so far as he could see, only two possibilities were open to them: cleopatra would cleave to mark antony and go--would that the immortals might avert it!--to ruin, or she would sacrifice him and save her throne and life. in both cases the endangered lovers could soon return uninjured--the queen had a merciful heart, and never retained anger long if no guilt existed. the details of the plan were then settled by archibius, anukis, and berenike, who was with the family of arius, and the decision was communicated to the architect. archibius had maintained the same silence concerning the destination of the fugitives towards the men composing the council and barine's mother as to his sister. with regard to the mission of timagenes and the political questions which occupied his mind, he gave charmian only the degree of information necessary to explain the plan she so lovingly promoted; but she had no desire to know more. on the way home her mind was wholly absorbed by the fear that cleopatra had missed her services and discovered barine's flight. true, she mentioned the queen's desire to place her children in archibius's charge, but she could not give him full particulars until she reached her own apartments. her absence had not been noticed. the regent mardion had received the procession in the queen's name, for cleopatra had driven into the city, no one knew where. charmian entered her apartments with a lighter heart. anukis opened the door to them. she had remained undisturbed, and it was a pleasure to archibius to give the faithful, clever freedwoman an account of the matter with his own lips. he could have bestowed no richer reward upon the modest servant, who listened to his words as if they were a revelation. when she disclaimed the thanks with which he concluded, protesting that she was the person under obligation, the expression was sincere. her keen intellect instantly recognized the aristocrat's manner of addressing an equal or an inferior; and he who, in her eyes, was the first of men, had described the course of events as though she had stood on the same level. the queen herself might have been satisfied with the report. when she left charmian's rooms to join the other servants, she told herself that she was an especially favoured mortal; and when a young cook teased her about her head being sunk between her shoulders, she answered, laughing--"my shoulders have grown so high because i shrug them so often at the fools who jeer at me and yet are not half so happy and grateful." charmian, sorely wearied, had flung herself into an arm-chair, and archibius took his place opposite to her. they were happy in each other's society, even when silent; but to-day the hearts of both were so full that they fared like those who are so worn out by fatigue that they cannot sleep. how much they had to tell each other!--yet it was long ere charmian broke the silence and returned to the subject of the queen's wish, describing to her brother cleopatra's visit to the house which the children had built, how kind and cordial she had been; yet, a few minutes later, incensed by the mere mention of barine's name, she had dismissed her so ungraciously. "i do not know what you intend," she said in conclusion, "but, notwithstanding my love for her, i must perhaps decide in favour of what is most difficult, for--when she learns that it was i who withdrew the daughter of leonax from her and the base alexas--what treatment can i expect, especially as iras no longer gives me the same affection, and shows that she has forgotten my love and care? this will increase, and the worst of the matter is, that if the queen begins to favour her, i cannot justly reproach her, for iras is keener-witted, and has a more active brain. statecraft was always odious to me. iras, on the contrary, is delighted with the opportunity to speak on subjects connected with the government of the country, and especially the ceaseless, momentous game with rome and the men who guide her destiny." "that game is lost," archibius broke in with so much earnestness that charmian started, repeating in a low, timid tone: "lost?" "forever," said archibius, "unless-- "the olympians be praised--that there is still a doubt." "unless cleopatra can decide to commit an act which will force her to be faithless to herself, and destroy her noble image through all future generations." "how?" "whenever you learn it, will be too soon." "and suppose she should do it, archibius? you are her most trusted confidant. she will place in your charge what she loves more than she does herself." "more? you mean, i suppose, the children?" "the children! yes, a hundred times yes. she loves them better than aught else on earth. for them, believe me, she would be ready to go to her death." "let us hope so." "and you--were she to commit the horrible deed--i can only suspect what it is. but should she descend from the height which she has hitherto occupied--would you still be ready--" "with me," he interrupted quietly, "what she does or does not do matters nothing. she is unhappy and will be plunged deeper and deeper into misery. i know this, and it constrains me to exert my utmost powers in her service. i am hers as the hermit consecrated to serapis belongs to the god. his every thought must be devoted to him. to the deity who created him he dedicates body and soul until the death to which he dooms him. the bonds which unite me to this woman--you know their origin--are not less indestructible. whatever she desires whose fulfilment will not force me to despise myself is granted in advance." "she will never require such things from the friend of her childhood," cried charmian. then, approaching him with both arms extended joyfully, she exclaimed: "thus you ought to speak and feel, and therein is the answer to the question which has agitated my soul since yesterday. barine's flight, the favour and disfavour of cleopatra, iras, my poor head, which abhors politics, while at this time the queen needs keen- sighted confidants--" "by no means," her brother interrupted. "it is for men alone to give counsel in these matters. accursed be women's gossip over their toilet tables. it has already scattered to the four winds many a well- considered plan of the wisest heads, and an iras could never be more fatal to statecraft than just at the present moment, had not fate already uttered the final verdict." "then hence with these scruples," cried charmian eagerly; "my doubts are at an end! as usual, you point out the right path. i had thought of returning to the country estate we call irenia--the abode of peace--or to our beloved little palace at kanopus, to spend the years which may still be allotted to me, and return to everything that made my childhood beautiful. the philosophers, the flowers in the garden, the poets-- even the new roman ones, of whose works timagenes sent us such charming specimens--would enliven the solitude. the child, the daughter of the man whose love i renounced, and afterwards perhaps her sons and daughters, would fill the place of my own. as they would have been dear to leonax, i, too, would have loved them! this is the guise in which the future has appeared to me in many a quiet hour. but shall charmian--who, when her heart throbbed still more warmly and life lay fair before her, laid her first love upon the altar of sacrifice for her royal playfellow --abandon cleopatra in misfortune from mere selfish scruples? no, no!-- like you, i too belong--come what may--to the queen." she gazed into her brother's face, sure of his approval but, waving his uplifted hand, he answered gravely: "no, charmian! what i, a man, can assume, might be fatal to you, a woman. the present is not sweet enough for me to embitter it with wormwood from the future. and yet you must cast one glance into its gloomy domain, in order to understand me. you can be silent, and what you now learn will be a secret between us. only one thing"--here he lowered the loud tones of his deep voice--"only one thing can save her: the murder of antony, or an act of shameless treachery which would deliver him into octavianus's power. this is the proposal timagenes brought." "this?" she asked in a hollow tone, her grey head drooping. "this," he repeated firmly. "and if she succumbs to the temptation, she will be faithless to the love which has coursed through her whole life as the nile flows through the land of her ancestors. then, charmian, stay, stay under any circumstances, cling to her more firmly than ever, for then, then, my sister, she will be more wretched--ten, a hundred fold more wretched than if octavianus deprives her of everything, perhaps even life itself." "nor will i leave her, come what may. i will remain at her side until the end," cried charmian eagerly. but archibius, without noticing the enthusiastic ardor, so unusual to his sister's quiet nature, calmly continued: "she won your heart also, and it seems impossible for you to desert her. many have shared our feelings; and it is no disgrace to any one. misfortune is a weapon which cleaves base natures like a sword, yet like a hammer welds noble ones more closely. to you, therefore, it now seems doubly difficult to leave her, but you need love. the right to live and guard yourself from the most pitiable retrogression is your due, as much as that of the rare woman on the throne. so long as you are sure of her love, remain with her, and show your devotion in every situation until the end. but the motives which were drawing you away to books, flowers, and children, weigh heavily in the balance, and if you lack the anchor of her favour and love, i shall see you perish miserably. the frost emanating from cleopatra, if her heart grew cold to you, the pin- pricks with which iras would assail you, were you defenceless, would kill you. this must not be, sister; we will guard against it do not interrupt me. the counsel i advise you to follow has been duly weighed. if you see that the queen still loves you as in former days, cling to her; but should you learn the contrary, bid her farewell to-morrow. my irenia is yours--" "but she does love me, and even should she no longer--" "the test is at hand. we will leave the decision to her. you shall confess that you were the culprit who aided barine to escape her power to punish." "archibius!" "if you did not, a series of falsehoods must ensue. try whether the petty qualities in her nature, which urged her to commit the fate of leonax's daughter to unworthy hands, are more powerful than the nobler ones. try whether she is worthy of the self-sacrificing fidelity which you have given her all your life. if she remains the same as before, spite of this admission--" here he was interrupted by anukis, who asked if her mistress would see iras at this late hour. "admit her," replied archibius, after hastily exchanging glances with his sister, whose face had paled at his demand. he perceived it and, as the servant withdrew, he clasped her hand, saying with earnest affection: "i gave you my opinion, but at our age we must take counsel with ourselves, and you will find the right path." "i have already found it," she answered softly with downcast eyes. "this visitor brought a speedy decision. i must not feel ashamed in iras's presence." she had scarcely finished speaking when the queen's younger confidante entered. she was excited and, after casting a searching glance around the familiar room, she asked, after a curt greeting: "no one knows where the queen has gone. mardion received the procession in her place. did she take you into her confidence?" charmian answered in the negative, and inquired whether antony had arrived, and how she had found him. "in a pitiable state," was the reply. "i hastened hither to prevent the queen from visiting him, if possible. she would have received a rebuff. it is horrible." "the disappointment of paraetonium is added to the other burdens," observed archibius. "a feather compared with the rest," cried iras indignantly. "what a spectacle! a shrivelled soul, never too large, in the body of a powerful giant. disaster crushes the courage of the descendant of herakles. the weakling will drag the queen's splendid courage with him into the dust." "we will do our best to prevent it," replied archibius firmly. "the immortals have placed you and charmian at her side to sustain her, if her own strength fails. the time to test your powers has arrived." "i know my duty," replied iras austerely. "prove it!" said archibius earnestly. "you think you have cause for anger against charmian." "whoever treats my foes so tenderly can doubtless dispense with my affection. where is your ward?" "that you shall learn later," replied charmian advancing. "but when you do know, you will have still better reason to doubt my love; yet it was only to save one dear to me from misery, certainly not to grieve you, that i stepped between you and barine. and now let me say--had you wounded me to the quick, and everything dear to the greek heart called to me for vengeance--i should impose upon myself whatever constraint might be necessary to deny the impulse, because this breast contains a love stronger, more powerful, than the fiercest hate. and this love we both share. hate me, strive to wound and injure one at whose side you have hitherto stood like a daughter, but beware of robbing me of the strength and freedom which i need, to be and to offer to my royal mistress all the assistance in my power. i have just been consulting my brother about leaving cleopatra's service." "now?" iras broke in vehemently. "no, no! not that! it must not be! she cannot spare you now." "more easily, perhaps, than you," replied charmian; "yet in many things my services might be hard to replace." "nothing under the sun could do it," cried iras eagerly. "if, in these days of trouble, she should lose you too--" "still darker ones are approaching," interrupted archibius positively. "perhaps you will learn all to-morrow. whether charmian yields to her desire for rest, or continues in the service of the queen, depends on you. if you wish her to remain you must not render it too hard for her to do so. we three, my child, are perhaps the only persons at this court to whom the queen's happiness is more than their own, and therefore we should permit no incident, whatever name it may bear, to cloud our harmony." iras threw back her head with angry pride, exclaiming passionately: "was it i who injured you? i do not know in what respect. but you and charmian--though you have so long been aware that this heart was closed against every love save one--stepped between me and the man for whom i have yearned since childhood, and built the bridge which united dion and barine. i held the woman i hated in my grasp, and thanked the immortals for the boon; but you two--it is not difficult to guess the secret you are still trying to keep from me--you aided her to escape. you have robbed me of my revenge; you have again placed the singer in the path where she must find the man to whom i have a better and older claim, and who perhaps may still be considering which of us two will be the better mistress of his house, if alexas and his worthy brother do not arrange matters so that we must both content ourselves with thinking tenderly of a dead man. that is why i believe that i am no longer indebted to you, that charmian has more than repaid herself for all the kindness she has ever showed me." with these words she hurried to the door, but paused on the threshold, exclaiming: "this is the state of affairs; yet i am ready to serve the queen hand in hand with you as before; for you two--as i have said--are necessary to her. in other respects--i shall follow my own path." chapter xvii. cleopatra had sought the venerable anubis, who now, as the priest of alexander, at the age of eighty, ruled the whole hierarchy of the country. it was difficult for him to leave his arm-chair, but he had been carried to the observatory to examine the adverse result of the observation made by the queen herself. the position of the stars, however, had been so unfavourable that the more deeply cleopatra entered into these matters, the less easy he found it to urge the mitigating influences of distant planets, which he had at first pointed out. in his reception-hall, however, the chief priest had assured her that the independence of egypt and the safety of her own person lay in her hands; only--the planets showed this--a terrible sacrifice was required--a sacrifice of which his dignity, his eighty years, and his love for her alike forbade him to speak. cleopatra was accustomed to hear these mysterious sayings from his lips, and interpreted them in her own way. many motives had induced her to seek the venerable prelate at this late hour. in difficult situations he had often aided her with good counsel; but this time she was not led to him by the magic cup of nektanebus, which the eight pastophori who accompanied it had that day restored to the temple, for since the battle of actium the superb vessel had been a source of constant anxiety to her. cleopatra had now asked the teacher of her childhood the direct question whether the cup--a wide, shallow vessel, with a flat, polished bottom could really have induced antony to leave the battle and follow her ere the victory was decided. she had used it just before the conflict between the galleys, and this circumstance led anubis to answer positively in the affirmative. long ago the marvellous chalice had been exhibited to her among the temple treasures, and she was told that every one who induced another person to be reflected from its shining surface obtained the mastery over his will. her wish to possess it, however, was not gratified, and she did not ask for it again until the limitless devotion and ardent love of antony had seemed less fervent than of yore. from that time she had never ceased to urge her aged friend to place the wondrous cup in her keeping. at first he had absolutely refused, predicting that its use would bring misfortune upon her; but when her request was followed by an imperative command, and the goblet was entrusted to her, anubis himself believed that this one vessel did possess the magic power attributed to it. he deemed that the drinking-cup afforded the strongest proof of the magic art, far transcending human ability, of the great goddess by whose aid king nektanebus--who, according to tradition, was the father of alexander the great--was said to have made the vessel in the isis island of philoe. anubis had intended to remind cleopatra of his refusal, and show her the great danger incurred by mortals who strove to use powers beyond their sphere. it had been his purpose to bid her remember phaeton, who had almost kindled a conflagration in the world, when he attempted, in the chariot of his father, phoebus apollo, to guide the horses of the sun. but this was unnecessary, for he had scarcely assented to the question ere, with passionate vehemence, she ordered him to destroy before her eyes the cup which had brought so much misfortune. the priest feigned that her desire harmonized with a resolution which he had himself formed. in fact, before her arrival, he had feared that the goblet might be used in some fatal manner if octavianus should take possession of the city and country, and the wonder-working vessel should fall into his hands. nektanebus had made the cup for egypt. to wrest it from the foreign ruler was acting in the spirit of the last king in whose veins had flowed the blood of the pharaohs, and who had toiled with enthusiastic devotion for the independence and liberty of his people. to destroy this man's marvellous work rather than deliver it to the roman conqueror seemed to the chief priest, after the queen's command, a sacred duty, and as such he represented it to be when he commanded the smelting furnace to be fired and the cup transformed into a shapeless mass before the eyes of cleopatra. while the metal was melting he eagerly told the queen how easily she could dispense with the vessel which owed its magic power to the mighty isis. the spell of woman's charms was also a gift of the goddess. it would suffice to render antony's heart soft and yielding as the fire melted the gold. perhaps the imperator had forfeited, with the queen's respect, her love--the most priceless of blessings. he, anubis, would regard this as a great boon of the deity; "for," he concluded, "mark antony is the cliff which will shatter every effort to secure to my royal mistress undiminished the heritage which has come to her and her children from their ancestors, and preserve the independence and prosperity of this beloved land. this cup was a costly treasure. the throne and prosperity of egypt are worthy of greater sacrifices. but i know that there is none harder for a woman to make than her love." the meaning of the old man's words cleopatra learned the following morning, when she granted the first interview to timagenes, octavianus's envoy. the keen-witted, brilliant man, who had been one of her best teachers and with whom, when a pupil, she had had many an argument, was kindly received, and fulfilled his commission with consummate skill. the queen listened attentively to his representations, showed him that her own intellect had not lost in flexibility, though it had gained power; and when she dismissed him, with rich gifts and gracious words, she knew that she could preserve the independence of her beloved native land and retain the throne for herself and her children if she would surrender antony to the conqueror or to him, as "the person acting," or--these were timagenes's own words--"remove him forever from the play whose end she had the power to render either brilliant or fateful." when she was again alone her heart throbbed so passionately and her soul was in such a tumult of agitation that she felt unable to attend the appointed meeting of the council of the crown. she deferred the session until the following day, and resolved to go out upon the sea, to endeavour to regain her composure. antony had refused to see her. this wounded her. the thought of the goblet and its evil influences had by no means passed from her memory with the destruction of the vessel caused by one of those outbursts of passion to which, in these days of disaster, she yielded more frequently than usual. on the contrary, she felt the necessity of being alone, to collect her thoughts and strive to dispel the clouds from her troubled soul. the beaker had been one of the treasures of isis, and the memory of it recalled hours during which, in former days, she had often found composure in the temple of the goddess. she wished to seek the sanctuary unnoticed and, accompanied only by iras and the chief introducer, went, closely veiled, to the neighbouring temple at the corner of the muses. but she failed to find the object of her pilgrimage. the throng which filled it to pray and offer sacrifices, and the fear of being recognized, destroyed her calmness. she was in the act of retiring, when gorgias, the architect, followed by an assistant carrying surveying instruments, advanced towards her. she instantly called him to her side, and he informed her how wonderfully fate itself seemed to favour her plan of building. the mob had destroyed the house of the old philosopher didymus, and the grey-haired sage, to whom he had offered the shelter of his home, was now ready to transfer the property inherited from his ancestors, if her majesty would assure him and his family of her protection. then she asked to see the architect's plan for joining the museum to the sanctuary, and became absorbed in the first sketch, to which he had devoted part of the night and morning. he showed it, and with eager urgency cleopatra commanded him to begin the building as soon as possible and pursue the work night and day. what usually required months must be completed in weeks. iras and the "introducer," clad in plain garments, had waited for her in the temple court and, joined by the architect, accompanied her to the unpretending litter standing at one of the side gates but, instead of entering it, she ordered gorgias to attend her to the garden. the inspection proved that the architect was right and, even if the mausoleum occupied a portion of it, and the street which separated it from the temple of isis were continued along the shore of the sea, the remainder would still be twice as large as the one belonging to the palace at lochias. cleopatra's thorough examination showed gorgias that she had some definite purpose in view. her inquiry whether it would be possible to connect it with the promontory of lochias indicated what she had in mind, and the architect answered in the affirmative. it was only necessary to tear down some small buildings belonging to the crown and a little temple of berenike at the southern part of the royal harbour. the arm of the agathodaemon canal which entered here had been bridged long ago. the new scene which would result from this change had been conjured before the queen's mental vision with marvellous celerity, and she described it in brief, vivid language to the architect. the garden should remain, but must be enlarged from the lochias to the bridge. thence a covered colonnade would lead to the palace. after gorgias had assured her that all this could easily be arranged, she gazed thoughtfully at the ground for a time, and then gave orders that the work should be commenced at once, and requested him to spare neither means nor men. gorgias foresaw a period of feverish toil, but it did not daunt him. with such a master builder he was ready to roof the whole city. besides, the commission delighted him because it proved that the woman whose mausoleum was to rise from the earth so swiftly still thought of enhancing the pleasures of existence; for, though she wished the garden to remain unchanged, she desired to see the colonnade and the remainder of the work constructed of costly materials and in beautiful forms. when she bade him farewell, gorgias kissed her robe with ardent enthusiasm. what a woman! true, she had not even raised her veil, and was attired in plain dark clothing, but every gesture revealed the most perfect grace. the arm and hand with which she pointed now here, now there, again seemed to him fairly instinct with life; and he, who deemed perfection of form of so much value, found it difficult to avert his eyes from her marvellous symmetry. and her whole figure! what lines, what genuine aristocratic elegance, and warm, throbbing life! that morning when helena, now an inmate of his own home, greeted him, he had essayed to compare her, mentally, with cleopatra, but speedily desisted. the man to whom hebe proffers nectar does not ask for even the best wine of byblus. a feeling of grateful, cheerful satisfaction, difficult to describe, stole over him when the reserved, quiet helena addressed him so warmly and cordially; but the image of cleopatra constantly thrust itself between them, and it was difficult for him to understand himself. he had loved many women in succession, and now his heart throbbed for two at once, and the queen was the brighter of the two stars whose light entranced him. therefore his honest soul would have considered it a crime to woo helena now. cleopatra knew what an ardent admirer she had won in the able architect, and the knowledge pleased her. she had used no goblet to gain him. doubtless he would begin to build the mausoleum the next morning. the vault must have space for several coffins. antony had more than once expressed the desire to be buried beside her, wherever he might die, and this had occurred ere she possessed the beaker. she must in any case grant him the same favour, no matter in what place or by whose hand he met death, and the bedimmed light of his existence was but too evidently nearing extinction. if she spared him, octavianus would strike him from the ranks of the living, and she----again she was overpowered by the terrible, feverish restlessness which had induced her to command the destruction of the goblet, and had brought her to the temple. she could not return in this mood to meet her councillors, receive visitors, greet her children. this was the birthday of the twins; charmian had reminded her of it and undertaken to provide the gifts. how could she have found time and thought for such affairs? she had returned from the chief priest late in the evening, yet had asked for a minute description of the condition in which they found mark antony. the report made by iras harmonized with the state in which she had herself seen him during and after the battle. ay, his brooding gloom seemed to have deepened. charmian had helped her dress in the morning, and had been on the point of making her difficult confession, and owning that she had aided barine to escape the punishment of her royal mistress; but ere she could begin, timagenes was announced, for cleopatra had not risen from her couch until a late hour. the object for which the queen had sought the temple had not been gained; but the consultation with gorgias had diverted her mind, and the emotions which the thought of her last resting-place had evoked now drowned everything else, as the roar of the surf dominates the twittering of the swallows on the rocky shore. ay, she needed calmness! she must weigh and ponder over many things in absolute quietude, and this she could not obtain at lochias. then her glance rested upon the little sanctuary of berenike, which she had ordered removed to make room for a garden near at hand, where the children could indulge their love of creative work. it was empty. she need fear no interruption there. the interior contained only a single, quiet, pleasant chamber, with the image of berenike. the "introducer" commanded the guard to admit no other visitors, and soon the little white marble, circular room with its vaulted roof received the queen. she sank down on one of the bronze benches opposite to the statue. all was still; in this cool silence her mind, trained to thought, could find that for which it longed--clearness of vision, a plain understanding of her own feelings and position in the presence of the impending decision. at first her thoughts wandered to and fro like a dove ere it chooses the direction of its flight; but after the question why she was having a tomb built so hurriedly, when she would be permitted to live, her mind found the right track. among the scythian guards, the mauritanians, and blemmyes in the army there were plenty of savage fellows whom a word from her lips and a handful of gold would have set upon the vanquished antony, as the huntsman's "seize him!" urges the hounds. a hint, and among the wretched magicians and magians in the rhakotis, the egyptian quarter of the city, twenty men would have assassinated him by poison or wily snares; one command to the macedonians in the guard of the mellakes or youths, and he would be a captive that very day, and to-morrow, if she so ordered, on the way to asia, whither octavianus, as timagenes told her, had gone. what prevented her from grasping the gold, giving the hint, issuing the command? doubtless she thought of the magic goblet, now melted, which had constrained him to cast aside honour, fame, and power, as worthless rubbish, in order to obey her behest not to leave her; but though this remembrance burdened her soul, it had no decisive influence. it was no one thing which prisoned her hand and lips, but every fibre of her being, every pulsation of her heart, every glance back into the past to the confines of childhood. yet she listened to other thoughts also. they reminded her of her children, the elation of power, love for the land of her ancestors, and the peril which menaced it without her, the bliss of seeing the light, and the darkness, the silence, the dull rigidity of death, the destruction of the body and the mind cherished and developed with so much care and toil, the horrible torture which might be associated with the transition from life to death--the act of dying. and what lay before her in the existence which lasted an eternity? when she no longer breathed beneath the sun, even if the death hour was deferred, and she found that not epicurus, who believed that with death all things ended, had been right, but the ancient teachings of the egyptians, what would await her in that world beyond the grave if she purchased a few more years of life by the murder or betrayal of her lover, her husband? yet perhaps the punishments inflicted upon the condemned were but bugbears invented by the priesthood, which guarded the regulation of the state in order to curb the unruly conduct of the populace and terrify the turbulent transgressors of the law. and, whispered the daring greek spirit, in the abode of the condemned, not in the garden of aalu, the elysian fields of the egyptians, she would meet her father and mother and all her wicked ancestors down to euergetes i., who was succeeded by the infamous philopater. thus the thought of the other world became an antecedent so uncertain as to permit no definite inference, and might therefore be left out of the account. how would--this must be the form of the question--the years purchased by the murder or betrayal of one whom she loved shape themselves for her? during the night the image of the murdered man would drive sleep from her couch, and the furies, the dirx, as the roman antony called them, who pursue murderers with the serpent scourge, were no idle creations of poetic fancy, but fully symbolized the restlessness of the criminal, driven to and fro by the pangs of conscience. the chief good, the painless happiness of the epicureans, was forever lost to those burdened by such guilt. and during the hours of the day and evening? ay, then she would be free to heap pleasure on pleasure. but for whom were the festivals to be celebrated; with whom could she share them? for many a long year no banquet, no entertainment had given her enjoyment without mark antony. for whom did she adorn herself or strive to stay the vanishing charm? and how soon would anguish of soul utterly destroy the spell, which was slowly, slowly, yet steadily diminishing, and, when the mirror revealed wrinkles which the skill of no olympus could efface, when she----no, she was not created to grow old! did the few years of life which must contain so much misery really possess a value great enough to surrender the right of being called by present and future generations the bewitching cleopatra, the most irresistible of women? and the children? yes, it would have been delightful to see them grow up and occupy the throne, but serious, decisive doubts soon blended even with an idea so rich in joy. how glorious to greet caesarion as sovereign of the world in octavianus's place! but how could the dreamer, whose first love affair had caused the total sacrifice of dignity and violation of the law, and who now seemed to have once more relapsed into the old state of torpor, attain the position? the other children inspired fair hopes, and how beautiful it appeared to the mother's heart to see antonius helios as king of egypt; cleopatra selene with her first child in her arms; and little alexander a noble statesman and hero, rich in virtue and talents! yet, what would they, antony's children, whose education she hoped archibius would direct, feel for the mother who had been their father's murderess? she shuddered at the thought, remembering the hours when her childish heart had shed tears of blood over the infamous mother whom her father had execrated. and queen tryphoena, whom history recorded as a monster, had not killed her husband, but merely thrust him from the throne. arsinoe's execrations of her mother and sister came back to her memory, and the thought that the rosy lips of the twins and her darling alexander could ever open to curse her,--the idea that the children would ever raise their beloved hands to point at her, the wicked murderess of their father, with horror and scorn--no, no, and again no! she would not purchase a few more years of valueless life at the cost of this humiliation and shame. purchase of whom? of that octavianus who had robbed her son of the heritage of his father, caesar, and whose mention in the will was like an imputation on her fidelity--the cold-hearted, calculating upstart, whose nature from their first meeting in rome had repelled, rebuffed, chilled her; of the man by whose cajolery and power her husband--for in her own eyes and those of the egyptians antony held this position--had been induced to wed his sister, octavia, and thereby stamp her, cleopatra, as merely his love, cast a doubt upon the legitimate birth of her children; of the false friend of the trusting antony who, before the battle of actium, had most deeply humiliated and insulted both! on the contrary, her royal pride rebelled against obeying the command of such a man to commit the most atrocious deed; and from childhood this pride had been as much a part of her nature as her breath and the pulsation of her heart. and yet, for her children's sake, she might perhaps have incurred this disgrace, had it not been at the same time the grave of the best and noblest things which she desired to implant in the young souls of the twins and alexander. while thinking of the children's curses she had risen from her seat. why should she reflect and consider longer? she had found the clear perception she sought. let gorgias hasten the building of the tomb. should fate demand her life, she would not resist if she were permitted to preserve it only at the cost of murder or base treachery. her lover's was already forfeited. at his side she had enjoyed a radiant, glowing, peerless bliss, of which the world still talked with envious amazement. at his side, when all was over, she would rest in the grave, and compel the world to remember with respectful sympathy the royal lovers, antony and cleopatra. her children should be able to think of her with untroubled hearts, and not even the shadow of a bitter feeling, a warning thought, should deter them from adorning their parents' grave with flowers, weeping at its foot, invoking and offering sacrifices to their spirits. then she glanced at the statue of berenike, who had also once worn on her brow the double crown of egypt. she, too, had early died a violent death; she, too, had known how to love. the vow to sacrifice her beautiful hair to aphrodite if her husband returned uninjured from the syrian war had rendered her name illustrious. "berenike's hair" was still to be seen as a constellation in the night heavens. though this woman had sinned often and heavily, one act of loyal love had made her an honoured, worshipped princess. she--cleopatra would do something still greater. the sacrifice which she intended to impose upon herself would weigh far more heavily in the balance than a handful of beautiful tresses, and would comprise sovereignty and life. with head erect and a sense of proud self-reliance she gazed at the noble marble countenance of the cyrenian queen. ere entering the sanctuary she had imagined that she knew how the criminals whom she had sentenced to death must feel. now that she herself had done with life, she felt as if she were relieved from a heavy burden, and yet her heart ached, and-- especially when she thought of her children--she was overwhelmed with the emotion which is the most painful of all forms of compassion--pity for herself. chapter xviii. when cleopatra left the temple, iras marvelled at the change in her appearance. the severe tension which had given her beautiful face a shade of harshness had yielded to an expression of gentle sadness that enhanced its charm, yet her features quickly brightened as her attendant pointed to the procession which was just entering the forecourt of the palace. in alexandria and throughout egypt birthdays were celebrated as far as possible. therefore, to do honour to the twins, the children of the city had been sent to offer their congratulations, and at the same time to assure their royal mother of the love and devotion of the citizens. the return to the palace occupied only a few minutes, and as cleopatra, hastily donning festal garments, gazed down at the bands of children, it seemed as if fate by this fair spectacle had given her a sign of approval of her design. she was soon standing hand in hand with the twins upon the balcony before which the procession had halted. hundreds of boys and girls of the same age as the prince and princess had flocked thither, the former bearing bouquets, the latter small baskets filled with lilies and roses. every head was crowned with a wreath, and many of the girls wore garlands of flowers. a chorus of youths and maidens sang a festal hymn, beseeching the gods to grant the royal mother and children every happiness; the leader of the chorus of girls made a short address in the name of the city, and during this speech the children formed in ranks, the tallest in the rear, the smallest in the front, and the others between according to their height. the scene resembled a living garden, in which rosy faces were the beautiful flowers. cleopatra thanked the citizens for the charming greeting sent to her by those whom they held dearest, and assured them that she returned their love. her eyes grew dim with tears as she went with her three children to the throng who offered their congratulations, and an unusually pretty little girl whom she kissed threw her arms around her as tenderly as if she were her own mother. and how beautiful was the scene when the girls strewed the contents of their little baskets on the ground before her, and the boys, with many a ringing shout and loving wish, offered the bouquets to her and the twins! charmian had not forgotten to provide the gifts; and when the chamberlains and waiting-women led the children into a large hall to offer them refreshments, the queen's eyes sparkled so brightly that the companion of her childhood ventured to make her difficult confession. and, as so often happens, the event we most dread shows, when it actually occurs, a friendly or indifferent aspect; this was the case now. nothing in life is either great or small--the one may be transformed to the other, according to the things with which it is compared. the tallest man becomes a dwarf beside a rocky giant of the mountain chain, the smallest is a titan to the swarming ants in the forest. the beggar seizes as a treasure what the rich man scornfully casts aside. that which the day before yesterday seemed to cleopatra unendurable, roused her keenest anxiety, robbed her of part of her night's repose, and induced her to adopt strenuous measures, now appeared trivial and scarcely worthy of consideration. yesterday and to-day had brought events and called up questions which forced barine's disappearance into the realm of unimportant matters. charmian's confession was preceded by the statement that she longed for rest yet, nevertheless, was ready to remain with her royal friend, in every situation, until she no longer desired her services and sent her away. but she feared that this moment had come. cleopatra interrupted her with the assurance that she was speaking of something utterly impossible; and when charmian disclosed barine's escape, and admitted that it was she who had aided the flight of the innocent and sorely threatened granddaughter of didymus, the queen started up angrily and frowned, but it was only for a moment. then, with a smile, she shook her finger at her friend, embraced her, and gravely but kindly assured her that, of all vices, ingratitude was most alien to her nature. the companion of her childhood had bestowed so many proofs of faithfulness, love, self-sacrifice, and laborious service in her behalf that they could not be long outweighed by a single act of wilful disobedience. an abundant supply would still remain, by virtue of which she might continue to sin without fearing that cleopatra would ever part from her charmian. the latter again perceived that nothing on earth could be hostile or sharp enough to sever the bond which united her to this woman. when her lips overflowed with the gratitude which filled her heart, cleopatra admitted that it seemed as if, in aiding barine's escape, she had rendered her a service. the caution with which charmian had concealed barine's refuge had not escaped her notice, and she did not ask to learn it. it was enough for her that the dangerous beauty was out of caesarion's reach. as for antony, a wall now separated him from the world, and consequently from the woman who, spite of alexas's accusations, had probably never stood closer to his heart. charmian now eagerly strove to show the queen what had induced the syrian to pursue barine so vindictively. it was evident--and scarcely needed proof--that mark antony's whole acquaintanceship with the old scholar's granddaughter had been far from leading to any tender relation. but cleopatra gave only partial attention. the man whom she had loved with every pulsation of her heart already seemed to her only a dear memory. she did not forget the happiness enjoyed with and through him, or the wrong she had done by the use of the magic goblet; yet with the wall on the choma, which divided him from her and the rest of the world, and her command to have the mausoleum built, she imagined that the season of love was over. any new additions to this chapter of the life of her heart were but the close. even the jealousy which had clouded the happiness of her love like a fleeting, rapidly changing shadow, she believed she had now renounced forever. while charmian protested that no one save dion had ever been heard with favour by barine, and related many incidents of her former life, cleopatra's thoughts were with antony. like the image of the beloved dead, the towering figure of the roman hero rose before her mind, but she recalled him only as he was prior to the battle of actium. she desired and expected nothing more from the broken-spirited man, whose condition was perhaps her own fault. but she had resolved to atone for her guilt, and would do so at the cost of throne and life. this settled the account. whatever her remaining span of existence might add or subtract, was part of the bargain. the entrance of alexas interrupted her. with fiery passion he expressed his regret that he had been defrauded by base intrigues of the right bestowed upon him to pass sentence upon a guilty woman. this was the more difficult to bear because he was deprived of the possibility of providing for the pursuit of the fugitive. antony had honoured him with the commission to win herod back to his cause. he was to leave alexandria that very night. as nothing could be expected in this matter from the misanthropic imperator, he hoped that the queen would avenge such an offence to her dignity, and adopt severe measures towards the singer and her last lover, dion, who with sacrilegious hands had wounded the son of caesar. but cleopatra, with royal dignity, kept him within the limits of his position, commanded him not to mention the affair to her again, and then, with a sorrowful smile, wished him success with herod, in whose return to the lost cause of antony, however, much as she prized the skill of the mediator, she did not believe. when he had retired, she exclaimed to charmian: "was i blind? this man is a traitor! we shall discover it. wherever dion has taken his young wife, let her be carefully concealed, not from me, but from this syrian. it is easier to defend one's self against the lion than the scorpion. you, my friend, will see that archibius seeks me this very day. i must talk with him, and--you no longer have any thought of a parting? another will come soon enough, which will forever forbid these lips from kissing your dear face." as she spoke, she again clasped the companion of her childhood in her arms, and when iras entered to request an audience for lucilius, antony's most faithful friend, cleopatra, who had noticed the younger woman's envious glance at the embrace, said: "was i mistaken in fancying that you imagined yourself slighted for charmian, who is an older friend? that would be wrong; for i love and need you both. you are her niece, and indebted to her for much kindness from your earliest childhood. so, even though you will lose the joy of revenge upon a hated enemy, forget what has happened, as i did, and maintain your former affectionate companionship. i will reward you for it with the only thing that the daughter of the wealthy krates cannot purchase, yet which she probably rates at no low value--the love of her royal friend." with these words she clasped iras also in a close embrace, and when the latter left the room to summon lucilius, she thought: "no woman has ever won so much love; perhaps that is why she possesses so great a treasure of it, and can afford such unspeakable happiness by its bestowal. or is she so much beloved because she entered the world full of its wealth, and dispenses it as the sun diffuses light? surely that must be the case. i have reason to believe it, for whom did i ever love save the queen? no one, not even myself, and i know no one in whose love for me i can believe. but why did dion, whom i loved so fervently, disdain me? fool! why did mark antony prefer cleopatra to octavia, who was not less fair, whose heart was his, and whose hand held the sovereignty of half the world?" passing on as she spoke, she soon returned, ushering the roman lucilius into the presence of the queen. a gallant deed had bound this man to antony. after the battle of philippi, when the army of the republicans fled, brutus had been on the point of being seized by the enemy's horsemen; but lucilius, at the risk of being cut down, had personated him, and thereby, though but for a short time, rescued him. this had seemed to antony unusual and noble and, in his generous manner, he had not only forgiven him, but bestowed his favour upon him. lucilius was grateful, and gave him the same fidelity he had showed to brutus. at actium he had risked antony's favour to prevent his deserting cleopatra after the battle, and then accompanied him in his flight. now he was bearing him company in his seclusion on the choma. the grey-haired man who, but a short time before, had retained all the vigour of youth, approached the queen with bowed head and saddened heart. his face, so regular in its contours, had undergone a marked change within the past few weeks. the cheeks were sunken, the features had grown sharper, and there was a sorrowful expression in the eyes, which, when informing cleopatra of his friend's condition, glittered with tears. before the hapless battle he was one of cleopatra's most enthusiastic admirers; but since he had been forced to see his friend and benefactor risk fame, happiness, and honour to follow the queen, he had cherished a feeling of bitter resentment towards her. he would certainly have spared himself this mission, had he not been sure that she who had brought her lover to ruin was the only person who could rouse him from spiritless languor to fresh energy and interest in life. from motives of friendship, urged by no one, he came unbidden to the woman whom he had formerly so sincerely admired, to entreat her to cheer the unfortunate man, rouse him, and remind him of his duty. he had little news to impart; for on the voyage she had herself witnessed long enough the pitiable condition of her husband. now antony was beginning to be content in it, and this was what most sorely troubled the faithful friend. the imperator had called the little palace which he occupied on the choma his timonium, because he compared himself with the famous athenian misanthrope who, after fortune abandoned him, had also been betrayed by many of his former friends. even at taenarum he had thought of returning to the choma, and by means of a wall, which would separate it from the mainland, rendering it as inaccessible as--according to rumour--the grave of timon at halae near athens. gorgias had erected it, and whoever wished to visit the hermit was forced to go by sea and request admittance, which was granted to few. cleopatra listened to lucilius with sympathy, and then asked whether there was no way of cheering or comforting the wretched man. "no, your majesty," he replied. "his favourite occupation is to recall what he once possessed, but only to show the uselessness of these memories. 'what joys has life not offered me?' he asks, and then adds: 'but they were repeated again and again, and after being enjoyed for the tenth time they became monotonous and lost their charm. then they caused satiety to the verge of loathing.' only necessary things, such as bread and water, he says, possess real value; but he desires neither, because he has even less taste for them than for the dainties which spoil a man's morrow. yesterday in a specially gloomy hour, he spoke of gold. this was perhaps most worthy of desire. the mere sight of it awakened pleasant hopes, because it might afford so many gratifications. then he laughed bitterly, exclaiming that those joys were the very ones which produced the most disagreeable satiety. even gold was not worth the trouble of stretching out one's hand. "he is fond of enlarging upon such fancies, and finds images to make his meaning clear. "'in the snow upon the highest mountain-peak the feet grow cold,' he said. 'in the mire they are warm, but the dark mud is ugly and clings to them.' "then i remarked that between the morass and the mountain-snows lie sunny valleys where life would be pleasant; but he flew into a rage, vehemently protesting that he would never be content with the pitiable middle course of horace. then he exclaimed: 'ay, i am vanquished. octavianus and his agrippa are the conquerors; but if a rock mutilates or an elephant's clumsy foot crushes me, i am nevertheless of a higher quality than either.'" "there spoke the old mark antony!" cried cleopatra; but again lucilius's loyal heart throbbed with resentment against the woman who had fostered the recklessness which had brought his powerful friend to ruin, and he continued: "but he often sees himself in a different light. 'no writer could invent a more unworthy life than mine,' he exclaimed recently. 'a farce ending in a tragedy.'" lucilius might have added still harsher sayings, but the sorrowful expression in the tearful eyes of the afflicted queen silenced them upon his lips. yet cleopatra's name blended with most of the words uttered by the broken-spirited man. sometimes it was associated with the most furious reproaches, but more frequently with expressions of boundless delight and wild outbursts of fervent longing, and this was what inspired lucilius with the hope that the queen's influence would be effectual with his friend. therefore he repeated some especially ardent words, to which cleopatra listened with grateful joy. yet, when lucilius paused, she remarked that doubtless the misanthropist had spoken of her, and probably of octavia also, in quite a different way. she was prepared for the worst, for she was one of the rocks against which his greatness had been shattered. this reminded lucilius of the comment antony had made upon the three women whom he had wedded, and he answered reluctantly: "fulvia, the wife of his youth--i knew the bold, hot-blooded woman, the former wife of clodius--he called the tempest which swelled his sails." "yes, yes!" cried cleopatra. 'so she did. he owes her much; but i, too, am indebted to the dead fulvia. she taught him to recognize and yield to woman's power." "not always to his advantage," retorted lucilius, whose resentment was revived by the last sentence and, without heeding the faint flush on the queen's cheek, he added: "of octavia he said that she was the straight path which leads to happiness, and those who are content to walk in it are acceptable to gods and men." "then why did he not suffer it to content him?" cried cleopatra wrathfully. "fulvia's school," replied the roman, "was probably the last where he would learn the moderation which--as you know--is so alien to his nature. his opinion of the quiet valleys and middle course you have just heard." "but i, what have i been to him?" urged the queen. lucilius bent his gaze for a short time on the floor, then answered hesitatingly: "you asked to hear, and the queen's command must be obeyed. he compared your majesty to a delicious banquet given to celebrate a victory, at which the guests, crowned with garlands, revel before the battle--" "which is lost," said the queen hurriedly, in a muffled voice. "the comparison is apt. now, after the defeat, it would be absurd to prepare another feast. the tragedy is closing, so the play (doubtless he said so) which preceded it would be but a wearisome repetition if performed a second time. one thing, it is true, seems desirable--a closing act of reconciliation. if you think it is in my power to recall my husband to active life, rely upon me. the banquet of which he spoke occupied long years. the dessert will consume little time, but i am ready to serve it. when i asked permission to visit him he refused. what plan of meeting have you arranged?" "that i will leave to your feminine delicacy of feeling," replied lucilius. "yet i have come with a request whose fulfilment will perhaps contain the answer. eros, mark antony's faithful body-slave, humbly petitions your majesty to grant him a few minutes' audience. you know the worthy fellow. he would die for you and his master, and he--i once heard from your lips the remark of king antiochus, that no man was great to his body-slave--thus eros sees his master's weaknesses and lofty qualities from a nearer point of view than we, and he is shrewd. antony gave him his freedom long ago, and if your majesty does not object to receiving a man so low in station--" "let him come," replied cleopatra. "your demand upon me is just. unhappily, i am but too well aware of the atonement due your friend. before you came, i was engaged in making preparations for the fulfilment of one of his warmest wishes." with these words she dismissed the roman. her feelings as she watched his departure were of very mingled character. the yearning for the happiness of which she had been so long deprived had again awaked, while the unkind words which he had applied to her still rankled in her heart. but the door had scarcely closed behind lucilius when the usher announced a deputation of the members of the museum. the learned gentlemen came to complain of the wrong which had been done to their colleague, didymus, and also to express their loyalty during these trying times. cleopatra assured them of her favour, and said that she had already offered ample compensation to the old philosopher. in a certain sense she was one of themselves. they all knew that, from early youth, she had honoured and shared their labours. in proof of this, she would present to the library of the museum the two hundred thousand volumes from pergamus, one of the most valuable gifts mark antony had ever bestowed upon her, and which she had hitherto regarded merely as a loan. this she hoped would repay didymus for the injury which, to her deep regret, had been inflicted upon him, and at least partially repair the loss sustained by the former library of the museum during the conflagration in the bruchium. the sages, eagerly assuring her of their gratitude and devotion, retired. most of them were personally known to cleopatra who, to their mutual pleasure and advantage, had measured her intellectual powers with the most brilliant minds of their body. the sun had already set, when a procession of the priests of serapis, the chief god of the city, whose coming had been announced the day before, appeared at lochias. accompanied by torch and lantern bearers, it moved forward with slow and solemn majesty. in harmony with the nature of serapis, there were many reminders of death. the meaning of every image, every standard, every shrine, every peculiarity of the music and singing, was familiar to the queen. even the changing colours of the lights referred to the course of growth and decay in the universe and in human life, and the magnificent close of the chant of homage which represented the reception of the royal soul into the essence of the deity, the apotheosis of the sovereign, was well suited to stir the heart; for a sea of light unexpectedly flooded the whole procession and, while its glow irradiated the huge pile of the palace, the sea with its forest of ships and masts, and the shore with its temples, pylons, obelisks, and superb buildings, all the choruses, accompanied by the music of sackbuts, cymbals, and lutes, blended in a mighty hymn, whose waves of sound rose to the star-strewn sky and reached the open sea beyond the pharos. many a symbolical image suggested death and the resurrection, defeat and a victory following it by the aid of great serapis; and when the torches retired, vanishing in the darkness, with the last, notes of the chanting of the priests, cleopatra, raised her head, feeling as if the vow she had made during the gloomy singing of the aged men and the extinguishing of the torches had received the approval of the deity brought by her forefathers to alexandria and enthroned there to unite in his own person the nature of the greek and the egyptian gods. her tomb was to be built and, if destiny was fulfilled, to receive her lover and herself. she had perceived from antony's bitter words, as well as the looks and tones of lucilius, that he, as well as the man to whom her heart still clung with indissoluble bonds, held her responsible for actium and the fall of his greatness. the world, she knew, would imitate them, but it should learn that if love had robbed the greatest man of his day of fame and sovereignty, that love had been worthy of the highest price. the belief which had just been symbolically represented to her--that it was allotted to the vanishing light to rise again in new and radiant splendour--she would maintain for the present, though the best success could scarcely lead to anything more than merely fanning the glimmering spark and deferring its extinction. for herself there was no longer any great victory to win which would be worth the conflict. yet the weapons must not rest until the end. antony must not perish, growling, like a second timon, or a wild beast caught in a snare. she would rekindle, though but for the last blaze, the fire of his hero-nature, which blind love for her and the magic spell that had enabled her to bind his will had covered for a time with ashes. while listening to the resurrection hymn of the priests of serapis, she had asked herself if it might not be possible to give antony, when he had been roused to fresh energy, the son of caesar as a companion in arms. true, she had found the boy in a mood far different from the one for which she had hoped. if he had once been carried on to a bold deed, it seemed to have exhausted his energy; for he remained absorbed in the most pitiable love-sickness. yet he had not recovered from his illness. when he was better he would surely wake to active interest in the events which threatened to exert so great an influence on his own existence and, like the humblest slave, lament the defeat of actium. hitherto he had listened to the tidings of battle which had reached his ears with an indifference that seemed intelligible and pardonable only when attributed to his wound. his tutor rhodon had just requested a leave of absence, remarking that caesarion would not lack companions, since he was expecting antyllus and other youths of his own age. a flood of light streamed from the windows of the reception hall of the "king of kings." there was still time to seek him and make him understand what was at stake. ah! if she could but succeed in awaking his father's spirit! if that culpable attack should prove the harbinger of future deeds of manly daring! no interview with him as yet had encouraged this expectation, but a mother's heart easily sees, even in disappointment, a step which leads to a new hope. when charmian entered to announce antony's body-slave, she sent word to him to wait, and requested her friend to accompany her to her son. as they approached the apartments occupied by caesarion, antyllus's loud voice reached them through the open door, whose curtain was only half drawn. the first word which the queen distinguished was her own name; so, motioning to her companion, she stood still. barine was again the subject of conversation. antony's son was relating what alexas had told him. cleopatra, the syrian had asserted, intended to send the young beauty to the mines or into exile, and severely punish dion; but both had made their escape. the ephebi had behaved treacherously by taking sides with their foe. but this was because they were not yet invested with their robes. he hoped to induce his father to do this as soon as he shook off his pitiable misanthropy. and he must also be persuaded to direct the pursuit of the fugitives. "this will not be difficult," he cried insolently, "for the old man appreciates beauty, and has himself cast an eye on the singer. if they capture her, i'll guarantee nothing, you 'king of kings!' for, spite of his grey beard, he can cut us all out with the women, and barine--as we have heard--doesn't think a man of much importance until his locks begin to grow thin. i gave derketaeus orders to send all his men in pursuit. he's as cunning as a fox, and the police are compelled to obey him." "if i were not forced to lie here like a dead donkey, i would soon find her," sighed caesarion. "night or day, she is never out of my mind. i have already spent everything i possessed in the search. yesterday i sent for the steward seleukus. what is the use of being my mother's son, and the fat little fellow isn't specially scrupulous! he will do nothing, yet there must be gold enough. the queen has sunk millions in the sand on the syrian frontier of the delta. there is to be a square hole or something of the sort dug there to hide the fleet. i only half understand the absurd plan. the money might have paid hundreds of spies. so talents are thrown away, and the strong-box is locked against the son. but i'll find one that will open to me. i must have her, though i risk the crown. it always sounds like a jeer when they call me the king of kings. i am not fit for sovereignty. besides, the throne will be seized ere i really ascend it. we are conquered, and if we succeed in concluding a peace, which will secure us life and a little more, we must be content. for my part, i shall be satisfied with a country estate on the water, a sufficient supply of money and, above all, barine. what do i care for egypt? as caesar's son i ought to have ruled rome; but the immortals knew what they were doing when they prompted my father to disinherit me. to govern the world one must have less need of sleep. really--you know it--i always feel tired, even when i am well. people must let me alone! your father, too, antyllus, is laying down his arms and letting things go as they will." "ah, so he is!" cried antony's son indignantly. "but just wait! the sleeping lion will wake again, and, when he uses his teeth and paws--" "my mother will run away, and your father will follow her," replied caesarion with a melancholy smile, wholly untinged by scorn. "all is lost. but conquered kings and queens are permitted to live. caesar's son will not be exhibited to the quirites in the triumphal procession. rhodon says that there would be an insurrection if i appeared in the forum. if i go there again, it certainly will not be in octavianus's train. i am not suited for that kind of ignominy. it would stifle me and, ere i would grant any man the pleasure of dragging the son of caesar behind him to increase his own renown, i would put an end--ten, nay, a hundred times over, in the good old roman fashion, to my life, which is by no means especially attractive. what is sweeter than sound sleep, and who will disturb and rouse me when death has lowered his torch before me? but now i think i shall be spared this extreme. whatever else they may inflict upon me will scarcely exceed my powers of endurance. if any one has learned contentment it is i. the king of kings and co-regent of the great queen has been trained persistently, and with excellent success, to be content. what should i be, and what am i? yet i do not complain, and wish to accuse no one. we need not summon octavianus, and when he is here let him take what he will if he only spares the lives of my mother, the twins, and little alexander, whom i love, and bestows on me the estate--the main thing is that it must be full of fishponds--of which i spoke. the private citizen caesarion, who devotes his time to fishing and the books he likes to read, will gladly be allowed to choose a wife to suit his own taste. the more humble her origin, the more easily i shall win the consent of the roman guardian." "do you know, caesarion," interrupted antony's unruly son, leaning back on the cushions and stretching his feet farther in front of him, "if you were not the king of kings i should be inclined to call you a base, mean- natured fellow! one who has the good fortune to be the son of julius caesar ought not to forget it so disgracefully. my gall overflows at your whimpering. by the dog! it was one of my most senseless pranks to take you to the singer. i should think there would be other things to occupy the mind of the king of kings. besides, barine cares no more for you than the last fish you caught. she showed that plainly enough. i say once more, if derketaeus's men succeed in capturing the beauty who has robbed you of your senses, she won't go with you to your miserable estate to cook the fish you catch, for if we have her again, and my father holds out his hand to her, all your labour will be in vain. he saw the fair enchantress only twice, and had no time to become better acquainted, but she captured his fancy and, if i remind him of her, who knows what will happen?" here cleopatra beckoned to her companion and returned to her apartments with drooping head. on reaching them, she broke the silence, saying: "listening, charmian, is unworthy of a queen; but if all listeners heard things so painful, one need no longer guard keyholes and chinks of doors. i must recover my calmness ere i receive eros. one thing more. is barine's hiding-place secure?" "i don't know--archibius says so." "very well. they are searching for her zealously enough, as you heard, and she must not be found. i am glad that she did not set a snare for the boy. how a jealous heart leads us astray! were she here, i would grant her anything to make amends for my unjust suspicion of her and antony. and to think that alexas--but for your interposition he would have succeeded--meant to send her to the mines! it is a terrible warning to be on my guard. against whom? first of all, my own weakness. this is a day of recognition. a noble aim, but on the way the feet bleed, and the heart--ah! charmian, the poor, weak, disappointed heart!" she sighed heavily, and supported her head on the arm resting upon the table at her side. the polished, exquisitely grained surface of thya- wood was worth a large estate; the gems in the rings and bracelets which glittered on her hand and arm would have purchased a principality. this thought entered her mind and, overpowered by a feeling of angry disgust, she would fain have cast all the costly rubbish into the sea or the destroying flames. she would gladly have been a beggar, content with the barley bread of epicurus, she said to herself, if in return she could but have inspired her son even with the views of the reckless blusterer antyllus. her worst fears had not pictured caesarion so weak, so insignificant. she could no longer rest upon her cushions; and while, with drooping head, she gazed backward over the past, the accusing voice in her own breast cried out that she was reaping what she had sowed. she had repressed, curbed the boy's awakening will to secure his obedience; understood how to prevent any exercise of his ability or efforts in wider circles. true, it had been done on many a pretext. why should not her son taste the quiet happiness which she had enjoyed in the garden of epicurus? and was not the requirement that whoever is to command must first learn to obey, based upon old experiences? but this was a day of reckoning and insight, and for the first time she found courage to confess that her own burning ambition had marked out the course of caesarion's education. she had not repressed his talents from cool calculation, but it had been pleasant to her to see him grow up free from aspirations. she had granted the dreamer repose without arousing him. how often she had rejoiced over the certainty that this son, on whom antony, after his victory over the parthians, had bestowed the title of co-regent, would never rebel against his mother's guardianship! the welfare of the state had doubtless been better secured in her trained hands than in those of an inexperienced boy. and the proud consciousness of power! her heart swelled. so long as she lived she would remain queen. to transfer the sovereignty to another, whatever name he might bear, had seemed to her impossible. now she knew how little her son yearned for lofty things. her heart contracted. the saying "you reap what you sowed" gave her no peace, and wherever she turned in her past life she perceived the fruit of the seeds which she had buried in the ground. the field was sinking under the burden of the ears of misfortune. the harvest was ripe for the reaper; but, ere he raised the sickle, the owner's claim must be preserved. gorgias must hasten the building of the tomb; the end could not be long deferred. how to shape this worthily, if the victor left her no other choice, had just been pointed out by the son of whom she was ashamed. his father's noble blood forbade him to bear the deepest ignominy with the patience his mother had inculcated. it had grown late ere she admitted antony's body-slave, but for her the business of the night was just commencing. after he had gone she would be engaged for hours with the commanders of the army, the fleet, the fortifications. the soliciting of allies, too, must be carried on by means of letters containing the most stirring appeals to the heart. eros, antony's body-slave, appeared. his kind eyes filled with tears at the sight of the queen. grief had not lessened the roundness of his handsome face, but the expression of mischievous, often insolent, gaiety had given place to a sorrowful droop of the lips, and his fair hair had begun to turn grey. lucilius's information that cleopatra had consented to make advances to antony had seemed like the rising of the sun after a long period of darkness. in his eyes, not only his master, but everything else, must yield to the power of the queen. he had heard antony at tarsus inveigh against "the egyptian serpent," protesting that he would make her pay so dearly for her questionable conduct towards himself and the cause of caesar that the treasure-houses on the nile should be like an empty wine- skin; yet, a few hours after, body and soul had been in her toils. so it had continued till the battle of actium. now there was nothing more to lose; but what might not cleopatra bestow upon his master? he thought of the delightful years during which his face had grown so round, and every day fresh pleasures and spectacles, such as the world would never again witness, had satiated eye and ear, palate and nostril,--nay, even curiosity. if they could be repeated, even in a simpler form, so much the better. his main--nay, almost his sole-desire was to release his lord from this wretched solitude, this horrible misanthropy, so ill suited to his nature. cleopatra had kept him waiting two hours, but he would willingly have loitered in the anteroom thrice as long if she only determined to follow his counsel. it was worth considering, and eros did not hesitate to give it. no one could foresee how antony would greet cleopatra herself, so he proposed that she should send charmian--not alone, but with her clever hunch-backed maid, to whom the imperator himself had given the name "aisopion." he liked charmian, and could never see the dusky maid without jesting with her. if his master could once be induced to show a cheerful face to others besides himself, eros, and perceived how much better it was to laugh than to lapse into sullen reverie and anger, much would be gained, and charmian would do the rest, if she brought a loving message from her royal mistress. hitherto cleopatra had not interrupted him; but when she expressed the opinion that a slave's nimble tongue would have little power to change the deep despondency of a man overwhelmed by the most terrible disaster, eros waved his short, broad hand, saying: "i trust your majesty will pardon the frankness of a man so humble in degree, but those in high station often permit us to see what they hide from one another. only the loftiest and the lowliest, the gods and the slaves, behold the great without disguise. may my ears be cropped if the imperator's melancholy and misanthropy are so intense! all this is a disguise which pleases him. you know how, in better days, he enjoyed appearing as dionysus, and with what wanton gaiety he played the part of the god. now he is hiding his real, cheerful face behind the mask of unsocial melancholy, because he thinks the former does not suit this time of misfortune. true, he often says things which make your skin creep, and frequently broods mournfully over his own thoughts. but this never lasts long when we are alone. if i come in with a very funny story, and he doesn't silence me at once, you can rely on his surpassing it with a still more comical one. a short time ago i reminded him of the fishing party when your majesty had a diver fasten a salted herring on his hook. you ought to have heard him laugh, and exclaim what happy days those were. the lady charmian need only remind him of them, and aisopion spice the allusion with a jest. i'll give my nose--true, it's only a small one, but everybody values that feature most--if they don't persuade him to leave that horrible crow's nest in the middle of the sea. they must remind him of the twins and little alexander; for when he permits me to talk about them his brow smooths most speedily. he still speaks very often to lucilius and his other friends of his great plans of forming a powerful empire in the east, with alexandria as its principal city. his warrior blood is not yet calm. a short time ago i was even ordered to sharpen the curved persian scimitar he likes to wield. one could not know what service it might be, he said. then he swung his mighty arm. by the dog! the grey-haired giant still has the strength of three youths. when he is once more with you, among warriors and battle chargers, all will be well." "let us hope so." replied cleopatra kindly, and promised to follow his advice. when iras, who had taken charmian's place, accompanied the queen to her chamber after several hours of toil, she found her silent and sad. lost in thought, she accepted her attendant's aid, breaking her silence only after she had gone to her couch. "this has been a hard day, iras," she said; "it brought nothing save the confirmation of an old saying, perhaps the most ancient in the world: 'every one wilt reap only what he sows. the plant which grows from the seed you place in the earth may be crushed, but no power in the world will compel the seed to develop differently or produce fruit unlike what nature has assigned to it.' my seed was evil. this now appears in the time of harvest. but we will yet bring a handful of good wheat to the storehouses. we will provide for that while there is time. i will talk with gorgias early to-morrow morning. while we were building, you showed good taste and often suggested new ideas. when gorgias brings the plans for the mausoleum you shall examine them with me. you have a right to do so, for, if i am not mistaken, few will visit the finished structure more frequently than my iras." the girl started up and, raising her hand as if taking a vow, exclaimed: "your tomb will vainly wait my visit; your end will be mine also." "may the gods preserve your youth from it!" replied the queen in a tone of grave remonstrance. "we still live and will do battle." etext editor's bookmarks: epicurus, who believed that with death all things ended no, she was not created to grow old nothing in life is either great or small priests: in order to curb the unruly conduct of the populace she would not purchase a few more years of valueless life to govern the world one must have less need of sleep what changes so quickly as joy and sorrow this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] cleopatra by georg ebers volume . chapter xix. night brought little sleep to cleopatra. memory followed memory, plan was added to plan. the resolve made the day before was the right one. to-day she would begin its execution. whatever might happen, she was prepared for every contingency. ere she went to her work she granted a second audience to the roman envoy. timagenes exerted all his powers of eloquence, skill in persuasion, wit, and ingenuity. he again promised to cleopatra life and liberty, and to her children the throne; but when he insisted upon the surrender or death of mark antony as the first condition of any further negotiations, cleopatra remained steadfast, and the ambassador set forth on his way home without any pledge. after he had gone, the queen and iras looked over the plans for the tomb brought by gorgias, but the intense agitation of her soul distracted cleopatra's attention, and she begged him to come again at a later hour. when she was alone, she took out the letters which caesar and antony had written to her. how acute, subtle, and tender were those of the former; how ardent, impassioned, yet sincere were those of the mighty and fiery orator, whose eloquence swept the listening multitudes with him, yet whom her little hand had drawn wherever she desired! her heart throbbed faster when she thought of the meeting with antony, now close at hand; for charmian had gone with the nubian to invite him to join her again. they had started several hours ago, and she awaited their return with increasing impatience. she had summoned him for their last mutual battle. that he would come she did not doubt. but could she succeed in rekindling his courage? two persons so closely allied should sink and perish, still firmly united, in the final battle, if victory was denied. archibius was now announced. it soothed her merely to gaze into the faithful countenance, which recalled so many of her happiest memories. she opened her whole soul to him without reserve, and he drew himself up to his full height, as if restored to youth; while when she told him that she would never sully herself by treachery to her lover and husband, and had resolved to die worthy of her name, the expression of his eyes revealed that she had chosen the right path. ere she had made the request that he should undertake the education and guidance of the children, he voluntarily proposed to devote his best powers to them. the plan of uniting didymus's garden with the lochias and giving it to the little ones also met with his approval. his sister had already told him that cleopatra had determined to build her tomb. he hoped, he added, that its doors would not open to her for many years. she shook her head sorrowfully, exclaiming "would that i could read every face as i do yours! my friend archibius wishes me a long life, if any one does; but he is as wise as he is faithful, and therefore will consider that earthly life is by no means a boon in every case. besides, he says to himself: 'events are impending over this queen and woman, my friend, which will perhaps render it advisable to make use of the great privilege which the immortals bestow on human beings when it becomes desirable for them to leave the stage of life. so let her build her tomb.' have i read the old familiar book aright?" "on the whole, yes," he answered gravely. "but it is inscribed upon its pages that a great princess and faithful mother can be permitted to set forth on the last journey, whence there is no return, only when--" "when," she interrupted, "a shameful end threatens to fall upon the fair beginning and brilliant middle period, as a swarm of locusts darkens the air and devours and devastates the fields. i know it, and will act accordingly." "and," added archibius, "this end also (faithful to your nature) you will shape regally.--on my way here i met my sister near the choma. you sent her to your husband. he will grasp the proffered hand. now that it is necessary to stake everything or surrender, the grandson of herakles will again display his former heroic power. perhaps, stimulated and encouraged by the example of the woman he loves, he will even force hostile fate to show him fresh favour." "destiny will pursue its course," interrupted cleopatra firmly. "but antony must help me to heap fresh obstacles in the pathway, and when he wishes to use his giant strength, what masses of rock his mighty arm can hurl!" "and if your lofty spirit smooths the path for him, then, my royal mistress--" "even then the close of the tragedy will be death, and every scene a disappointment. was not the plan of bringing the fleet across the isthmus bold and full of promise? even the professional engineers greeted it with applause, and yet it proved impracticable. destiny dug its grave. and the terrible omens before and after actium, and the stars--the stars! everything points to speedy destruction, everything! every hour brings news of the desertion of some prince or general. as if from a watch-tower, i now overlook what is growing from the seed i sowed. sterile ears or poisonous vegetation, wherever i turn my eyes. and yet! you, who know my life from its beginning, tell me--must i veil my head in shame when the question is asked, what powers of intellect, what talents industry, and desire for good cleopatra displayed?" "no, my royal mistress, a thousand times no!" "yet the fruit of every tree i planted degenerated and decayed. caesarion is withering in the flower of his youth--by whose fault i know only too well. you will now take charge of the education of the other children. so it is for you to consider what brought me where i now stand, and how to guard their life-bark from wandering and shipwreck." "let me train them to be human beings," replied archibius gravely, "and preserve them from the desire to enter the lists with the gods. from the simple cleopatra in the garden of epicurus, who was a delight to the good and wise, you became the new isis, to whom the multitude raised hearts, eyes, and hands, dazzled and blinded. we will transfer the twins, helios and selene, the sun and the moon, from heaven to earth; they must become mortals--greeks. i will not transplant them to the garden of epicurus, but to another, where the air is more bracing. the inscription on its portals shall not be, 'here pleasure is the chief good,' but 'this is an arena for character.' he who leaves this garden shall not owe to it the yearning for happiness and comfort, but an immovably steadfast moral discipline. your children, like yourself, were born in the east, which loves what is monstrous, superhuman, exaggerated. if you entrust them to me, they must learn to govern themselves. at the helm stands moral earnestness, which, however, does not exclude the joyous cheerfulness natural to our people; the sails will be trimmed by moderation, the noblest quality of the greek nation." "i understand," cleopatra interrupted, with drooping head. "interwoven with the means of securing the children's welfare, you set before the mother's eyes the qualities she has lacked. i know that long ago you abandoned the teachings of epicurus and the stoa, and with an earnest aim before your eyes sought your own paths. the tempest of life swept me far away from the quiet garden where we sought the purest delight. now i have learned to know the perils which threaten those who see the chief good in happiness. it stands too high for mortals, for in the changeful stir of life it remains unattainable, and yet it is too low an aim for their struggles, for there are worthier objects. yet one saying of epicurus we both believed, and it has always stood us in good stead: 'wisdom can obtain no more precious contribution to the happiness of mortal life than the possession of friendship.'" she held out her hand as she spoke, and while, deeply agitated, he raised it to his lips, she went on: "you know i am on the eve of the last desperate battle--if the gods will--shoulder to shoulder with antony. therefore i shall not be permitted to watch your work of education; yet i will aid it. when the children question you about their mother, you will be obliged to restrain yourself from saying: 'instead of striving for the painless peace of mind, the noble pleasure of epicurus, which once seemed to her the highest good, she constantly pursued fleeting amusements. the oriental recklessly squandered her once noble gifts of intellect and the wealth of her people, yielded to the hasty impulses of her passionate nature.' but you shall also say to them: 'your mother's heart was full of ardent love, she scorned what was base, strove for the highest goal, and when she fell, preferred death to treachery and disgrace.'" here she paused, for she thought she heard footsteps approaching, and then exclaimed anxiously: "i am waiting--expecting. perhaps antony cannot escape from the paralyzing grasp of despair. to fight the last battle without him, and yet under the gaze of his wrathful, gloomy eyes, once so full of sunshine, would be the greatest sorrow of my life. archibius, i may confess this to you, the friend who saw love for this man develop in the breast of the child--but what does this mean? an uproar! have the people rebelled? yesterday the representatives of the priesthood, the members of the museum, and the leaders of the army assured me of their changeless fidelity and love. dion belonged to the macedonian men of the council; yet i have already declared, in accordance with the truth, that i never intended to persecute him on caesarion's account. i do not even know--and do not desire to know the refuge of the lately wedded pair. or has the new tax levied, the command to seize the treasures of the temple, driven them to extremities? what am i to do? we need gold to bid the foe defiance, to preserve the independence of the throne, the country, and the people. or have tidings from rome? it is becoming serious--and the noise is growing louder." "let me see what they want," archibius anxiously interrupted, hastening to the door; but just at that moment the introducer opened it, crying, "mark antony is approaching the lochias, attended by half alexandria!" "the noble imperator is returning!" fell from the bearded lips of the commander of the guard, ere the courtier's words had died away; and even while he spoke iras pressed past him, shrieking as if half frantic: "he is coming! he is here! i knew he would come! how they are shouting and cheering! out with you, men! if you are willing, my royal mistress, we will greet him from the balcony of berenike. if we only had--" "the twins--little alexander!" interrupted cleopatra, with blanched face and faltering voice. "put on their festal garments." "quick--the children, zoe!" cried iras, completing the order and clapping her hands. then she turned to the queen with the entreaty: "be calm, my royal mistress, be calm, i beseech you. we have ample time. here is the vulture crown of isis, and here the other. antony's slave, eros, has just come in, panting for breath. the imperator, he says, will appear as the new dionysus. it would certainly please his master--though he had not commissioned him to request it--if you greeted him as the new isis. --help me, hathor. nephoris, tell the usher to see that the fan-bearers and the other attendants, women and men, are in their places.--here are the pearl and diamond necklaces for your throat and bosom. take care of the robe. the transparent bombyx is as delicate as a cobweb, and if you tear it no, you must not refuse. we all know how it pleases him to see his goddess in divine majesty and beauty." cleopatra, with glowing cheeks and throbbing heart, made no further objection to donning the superb festal robe, strewn with glimmering pearls and glittering gems. it would have been more in harmony with her feelings to meet the returning antony in the plain, dark garb which, since her arrival at home, she had exchanged for a richer one only on festal occasions; but antony was coming as the new dionysus, and eros knew what would please his master. eight nimble hands, which were often aided by iras's skilful fingers, toiled busily, and soon the latter could hold up the mirror before cleopatra, exclaiming from the very depths of her heart, "like the foam- born aphrodite and the golden hathor!" then iras, who, in adorning her beloved mistress, had forgotten love, hate, and envy, and amid her eager haste barely found time for a brief, fervent prayer for a happy issue of this meeting, threw the broad folding-doors as wide as if she were about to reveal to the worshippers in the temple the image of the god in the innermost sanctuary. a long, echoing shout of surprise and delight greeted the queen, for the courtiers, hastily summoned, were already awaiting her without, from the grey-haired epistolograph to the youngest page. regally attired women in her service raised the floating train of her cloak; others, in sacerdotal robes, were testing the ease of movement of the rings on the sistrum rods, men and boys were forming into lines according to the rank of each individual, and the chief fan-bearer gave the signal for departure. after a short walk through several halls and corridors, the train reached the first court-yard of the palace, and there ascended the few steps leading to the broad platform at the entrance-gate which overlooked the whole bruchium and the street of the king, down which the expected hero would approach. the distant uproar of the multitude had sounded threatening, but now, amid the deafening din, they could distinguish every shout of welcome, every joyous greeting, every expression of delight, surprise, applause, admiration, and homage, known to the greek and egyptian tongues. only the centre and end of the procession were visible. the head had reached the corner of the muses, where, concealed by the old trees in the garden, it moved on between the temple of isis and the land owned by didymus. the end still extended to the choma, whence it had started. all alexandria seemed to have joined it. men large and small, of high and low degree, old and young, the lame and the crippled, mingled with the throng, sweeping onward among horses and carriages, carts and beasts of burden, like a mountain torrent dashing wildly down to the valley. here a loud shriek rang from an overturned litter, whose bearers had fallen. yonder a child thrown to the ground screamed shrilly, there a dog trodden under the feet of the crowd howled piteously. so clear and resonant were the shouts of joy that they rose high above the flutes and tambourines, the cymbals and lutes of the musicians, who followed the man approaching in the robes of a god. the head of the procession now passed beyond the corner of the muses and came within view of the platform. there could be no doubt to whom this ovation was given, for the returning hero was in the van, high above all the other figures. from the golden throne borne on the shoulders of twelve black slaves he waved his long thyrsus in greeting to the exulting multitude. before the bacchanalian train which accompanied him, and behind the musicians who followed, moved two elephants bearing between them, as a light burden, some unrecognizable object covered with a purple cloth. now the column had passed between the pylons through the lofty gateway which separated the palace from the street of the king, and stopped opposite to the platform. while officials, scythians, and body-guards of all shades of complexion, on foot and on horseback, kept back the throng by force where friendly warning did not avail, cleopatra saw her lover descend from the throne and give a signal to the indian slave who guided the elephants. the cloth was flung aside, revealing to the astonished eyes of the spectators a bouquet of flowers such as no alexandrian had ever beheld. it consisted entirely of blossoming rose-bushes. the red flowers formed a circle in the centre, surrounded by a broad light garland of white ones. the whole gigantic work rested like an egg in its cup in a holder of palm fronds which, as it were, framed it in graceful curving outlines. more than a thousand blossoms were united in this peerless bouquet, and the singular gigantic gift was characteristic of its giver. he advanced on foot to the platform, his figure towering above the brown, light-hued, and black freedmen and slaves who followed as, on the monuments of the pharaohs, the image of the sovereign dominates those of the subjects and foes. he could look down upon the tallest men, and the width of his shoulders was as remarkable as his colossal height. a long, gold-broidered purple mantle, floating to his ancles, increased his apparent stature. powerful arms, with the swelling muscles of an athlete, were extended from his sleeveless robe towards the beloved queen. the well-formed head, thick dark hair, and magnificent beard corresponded with the powerful figure. formerly these locks had adorned the head of the youth with the blue-black hue of the raven's plumage; now the threads of grey scattered abundantly through them were concealed by the aid of dye. a thick wreath of vine leaves rested on the imperator's brow, and leafy vine branches, to which clung several dark bunches of grapes, fell over his broad shoulders and down his back, which was covered like a cloak, not by a leopard-skin, but that of a royal indian tiger of great size--he had slain it himself in the arena. the head and paws of the animal were gold, the eyes two magnificent sparkling sapphires. the clasp of the chain, by which the skin was suspended, as well as that of the gold belt which circled the imperator's body above the hips, was covered with rubies and emeralds. the wide armlets above his elbows, the ornaments on his broad breast, nay, even his red morocco boots, glittered and flashed with gems. radiant magnificent as his former fortunes seemed the attire of this mighty fallen hero, who but yesterday had shrunk timidly and sadly from the eyes of his fellow-men. his features, too, were large, noble, and beautiful in outline; but, though his pale cheeks were adorned with the borrowed crimson of youth, half a century of the maddest pursuit of pleasure and the torturing excitement of the last few weeks had left traces only too visible; for the skin hung in loose bags beneath the large eyes; wrinkles furrowed his brow and radiated in slanting lines from the corners of his eyes across his temples. yet not one of those whom this bedizened man of fifty was approaching thought of seeing in him an aged, bedecked dandy; it was an instinct of his nature to surround himself with pomp and splendour and, moreover, his whole appearance was so instinct with power that scorn and mockery shrank abashed before it. how frank, gracious, and kindly was this man's face, how sincere the heart-felt emotion which sparkled in his eyes, still glowing with the fire of youth, at the sight of the woman from whom he had been so long parted! every feature beamed with the most ardent tenderness for the royal wife whom he was approaching, and the expression on the lips of the giant varied so swiftly from humble, sorrowful anguish of mind to gratitude and delight, that even the hearts of his foes were touched. but when, pressing his hand on his broad breast, he advanced towards the queen, bending so low that it seemed as if he would fain kiss her feet, when in fact the colossal figure did sink kneeling before her, and the powerful arms were outstretched with fervent devotion like a child beseeching help, the woman who had loved him throughout her whole life with all the ardour of her passionate soul was overpowered by the feeling that everything which stood between them, all their mutual offences, had vanished. he saw the sunny smile that brightened her beloved, ever- beautiful face, and then--then his own name reached his ears from the lips to which he owed the greatest bliss love had ever offered. at last, as if intoxicated by the tones of her voice, which seemed to him more musical than the songs of the muses; half smiling at the jest which, even in the most serious earnest, he could not abandon; half moved to the depths of his soul by the power of his newly awakening happiness after such sore sorrow, he pointed to the gigantic bouquet, which three slaves had lifted down from the elephant and were bearing to the queen. cleopatra, too, was overwhelmed with emotion. this floral gift imitated, on an immense scale, the little bouquet which the famous young general had taken from her father's hand before the gate of the garden of epicurus to present to her as his first gift. that had also been composed of red roses, surrounded by white ones. instead of palm fronds, it had been encircled only by fern leaves. this was one of the beautiful offerings which antony's gracious nature so well understood how to choose. the bouquet was a symbol of the unprecedented generosity natural to this large-minded man. no magic goblet had compelled him to approach her thus and with such homage. nothing had constrained him, save his overflowing heart, his constant, fadeless love. as if restored to youth, transported by some magic spell to the happy days of early girlhood, she forgot her royal dignity and the hundreds of eyes which rested upon him as if spell-bound; and, obedient to an irresistible impulse of the heart, she sank upon the broad, heaving breast of the kneeling hero. laughing joyously in the clear, silvery tones which are usually heard only in youth, he clasped her in his strong arms, raised her slender figure in its floating royal mantle from the ground, kissed her lips and eyes, held her aloft in the soaring attitude of the goddess of victory, as if to display his happiness to the eyes of all, and at last placed her carefully on her feet again like some treasured jewel. then, turning to the children, who were waiting at their mother's side, he lifted first little alexander, then the twins, to kiss them; and, while holding helios and selene in his arms, as if the joy of seeing them again had banished their weight, the shouts which had arisen when the queen sank on his breast again burst forth. the ancient walls of the lochias palace had never heard such acclamations. they passed from lip to lip, from hundreds to hundreds and, though those more distant did not know the cause, they joined in the shouts. along the whole vast stretch from the lochias to the choma the cheers rang out like a single, heart-stirring, inseparable cry, echoing across the harbour, the ships lying at anchor, the towering masts, to the cliff amid the sea where barine was nursing her new-made husband. chapter xx. the property of the freedman pyrrhus was a flat rock in the northern part of the harbour, scarcely larger than the garden of didymus at the corner of the muses, a desolate spot where neither tree nor blade of grass grew. it was called the serpent island, though the inhabitants had long since rid it of these dangerous guests, which lived in great numbers in the neighbouring cliffs. not even the poorest crops would grow in soil so hostile to life, and those who chose it for a home were compelled to bring even the drinking-water from the continent. this desert, around which hovered gulls, sea-swallows, and sea-eagles, had been for several weeks the abode of the fugitives, dion and barine. they still occupied the two rooms which had been assigned to them on their arrival. during the day the sun beat fiercely down upon the yellow chalky rock. there was no shade save in the house and at the foot of a towering cliff in the southern part of the island, the fishermen's watch- tower. there were no works of human hands save a little temple of poseidon, an altar of isis, the large house owned by pyrrhus, solidly constructed by alexandrian masons, and a smaller one for the freedman's married sons and their families. a long wooden frame, on which nets were strung to dry, rose on the shore. near it, towards the north, in the open sea, was the anchorage of the larger sea-going ships and the various skiffs and boats of the fisher folk. dionikos, pyrrhus's youngest son, who was still unmarried, built new boats and repaired the old ones. his two strong, taciturn brothers, with their wives and children, his father pyrrhus, his wife and their youngest child, a daughter, dione, a few dogs, cats, and chickens, composed the population of the serpent island. such were the surroundings of the newly wedded pair, who had been reared in the capital. at first many things were strange to them, but they accommodated themselves to circumstances with a good grace, and both had admitted to each other, long before, that life had never been so equable and peaceful. during the first week dion's wound and fever still harassed him, but the prediction of pyrrhus that the pure, fresh sea-air would benefit the sufferer had been fulfilled, and the monotonous days had passed swiftly enough to the young bride in caring for the invalid. the wife of pyrrhus--"mother," as they all called her--had proved to be a skilful nurse, and her daughters-in-law and young dione were faithful and nimble assistants. during the time of anxiety and nursing, barine had formed a warm friendship for them. if the taciturn men avoided using a single unnecessary word, the women were all the more ready to gossip; and it was a pleasure to talk to pretty dione, who had grown up on the island and was eager to hear about the outside world. dion had long since left his couch and the house, and each day looked happier, more content with himself and his surroundings. at first his feverish visions had shown him his dead mother, pointing anxiously at his new-made wife, as if to warn him against her. during his convalescence he remembered them and they conjured up the doubt whether barine could endure the solitude of this desolate cliff, whether she would not lose the bright serenity of soul whose charm constantly increased. would it be any marvel if she should pine with longing in this solitude, and even suffer physically from their severe privations? the perception that love now supplied the place of all which she had lost pleased him, but he forbade himself to expect that this condition of affairs could be lasting. nothing save exaggerated self-conceit would induce the hope. but he must have undervalued his own power of attraction--or barine's love--for with each passing week the cheerful serenity of her disposition gained fresh steadfastness and charm. he, too, had the same experience; it was long since he had felt so vigorous, untrammelled, and free from care. his sole regret was the impossibility of sharing the political life of the city at this critical period; and at times he felt some little anxiety concerning the fate and management of his property, though, even if his estates were confiscated, he would still retain a competence which he had left in the hands of a trustworthy money-changer. barine shared everything that concerned him, even these moods, and this led him to tell her about the affairs of the city and the state, in which she had formerly taken little interest, his property in alexandria and the provinces. with what glad appreciation she listened, when she went out with him from the northern anchorage on the open sea, or sat during long winter evenings making nets, an art which she had learned from dione! her lute had been sent to her from the city, and what pleasure her singing afforded her husband and herself; how joyously their hosts, old and young, listened to the melody! a few book-rolls had also come, and dion enjoyed discussing their contents with barine. he himself read very little, for he was rarely indoors during the day. the fourth week after his arrival he was able to aid, with arms whose muscles had been steeled in the pakestra, the men in their fishing, and dionikos in his boat-building. the close, constant, uninterrupted companionship of the married pair revealed to each unexpected treasures in the other, which, perhaps, might have remained forever concealed in city life. here each was everything to the other, and this undisturbed mutual life soon inspired that blissful consciousness of inseparable union which usually appears only after years, as the fairest fruit of a marriage founded on love. doubtless there were hours when barine longed to see her mother and others who were dear to her, but the letters which arrived from time to time prevented this yearning from becoming a source of actual pain. prudence required them to restrict their intercourse with the city. but, whenever pyrrhus went to market, letters reached the island delivered at the fish auction in the harbour by anukis, charmian's nubian maid, to the old freedman, who had become her close friend. so the time came when dion could say without self-deception that barine was content in this solitude, and that his love and companionship supplied the place of the exciting, changeful life of the capital. though letters came from her mother, sister, or charmian, her grandfather, gorgias, or archibius, not one transformed the wish to leave her desolate hiding-place into actual homesickness, but each brought fresh subjects for conversation, and among them many which, by arousing the interest of both, united them more firmly. the second month of their flight a letter arrived from archibius, in which he informed them that they might soon form plans for their return, for alexas, the syrian, had proved a malicious traitor. he had not performed the commission entrusted to him of winning herod to antony's cause, but treacherously deserted his patron and remained with the king of the jews. when, with unprecedented shamelessness, he sought octavianus to sell the secrets of his egyptian benefactor, he was arrested and executed in his own home, laodicea. now, their friend continued, cleopatra's eyes as well as her husband's were opened to the true character of barine's most virulent accuser. the influence of philostratus, too, was of course destroyed by his brother's infamous deed. yet they must wait a little longer; for caesarion had joined the ephebi, and antyllus had been invested with the toga virilis. they could now undertake many things independently, and caesarion often made remarks which showed that he would not cease to lay plots for barine. dion feared nothing from the royal boy on his own account, but for his wife's sake he dared not disregard his friend's warning. this was hard; for though he still felt happy on the island, he longed to install the woman he loved in his own house, and every impulse of his nature urged him to be present at the meetings of the council in these fateful times. therefore he was more than ready to risk returning to the city, but barine entreated him so earnestly not to exchange the secure happiness they enjoyed here for a greater one, behind which might lurk the heaviest misfortune, that he yielded. another letter from charmian soon proved the absolute necessity of continuing to exercise caution. even from the island they could perceive that everything known as festal pleasure was rife in alexandria, and bore along in its mad revelry the court and the citizens. when the wind blew from the south, it brought single notes of inspiring music or indistinct sounds of the wildest popular rejoicing. the fisherman's daughter, dione, often called them to the strand to admire the galleys adorned with fabulous splendour, garlanded with flowers, and echoing with the music of lutes and the melody of songs. sails of purple embroidered silk bore the vessels over the smooth tide. once the watchers even distinguished, upon a barge richly adorned with gilded carving, young female slaves who, with floating hair and transparent sea-green robes, handled, in the guise of nereids, light sandal-wood oars with golden blades. often the breeze bore to the island the perfumes which surrounded the galleys, and on calm nights the magnificent ships, surrounded by the magical illumination of many-hued lamps, swept across the mirror-like surface of the waves, among the voyagers were gods, goddesses, and heroes who, standing or reclining in beautiful groups, represented scenes from the myths and history. on the deck of the queen's superb vessel guests crowned with wreaths lay on purple couches, under garlands of flowers, eating choice viands and draining golden wine-cups. on other nights the illumination of the shore of the bruchium rendered it as bright as day. the huge dome of the serapeum on the rhakotis, covered with lamps, towered above the flat roofs of the city like the starry firmament of a smaller world which had descended to earth. every temple and palace was transformed into a giant candelabrum, and the rows of lamps on the quay stretched like tendrils of light from the dazzlingly illuminated marble temple of poseidon to the palace at lochias, steeped in radiance. when pyrrhus or one of his sons returned from market they described the festivals and shows, banquets, races, and endless pleasure excursions arranged by the court, which made the citizens fairly hold their breath. it was a prosperous time for the fishermen; the queen's cooks took all their wares and paid a liberal price. january had come, when another letter arrived from charmian. dion and barine had watched in vain for any unusual events on cleopatra's birth day, but on antony's, a few days later, there was plenty of music and shouting, and in the evening an unusually magnificent illumination. two days after, this letter was delivered to pyrrhus by his dusky friend anukis. her inquiry whether he thought it prudent to convey visitors to his guests was answered in the negative, for since octavianus had been in asia, the harbour swarmed with the boats of spies, and a single act of imprudence might bring ruin. charmian's letter, too, was even better calculated to curb dion's increasing desire to return home than the fisherman's warning. true, the beginning contained good news of barine's relatives, and then informed dion that his uncle, the keeper of the seal, was fairly revelling in bliss. his inventive gifts were taxed more than ever. every day brought a festival, every night magnificent banquets. one spectacle, excursion, or hunting party followed another. in the theatres, the odeum, the hippodrome, no more brilliant performances, races, naval battles, gladiatorial struggles, and combats between beasts had been given, even before actium. dion himself had formerly attended the entertainments of those who belonged to the court circle, the society of "inimitable livers." it had been revived again, but antony called them the "comrades of death." this was significant. every one knows that the end is drawing near, and imitates the pharaoh to whom the oracle promised six years of life, and who convicted it of falsehood and made them twelve by carousing during the night also. the queen's meeting with her husband, which she had previously reported, had been magnificent. "at that time," she wrote, "we hoped that a more noble life would begin, and mark antony, awakened and elevated by his rekindled love, would regain his former heroic power; but we were mistaken; cleopatra, it is true, toiled unceasingly, but her lover with his enormous bunch of roses gave the signal for the maddest revelry which the imagination of the wildest devotee of pleasure could conceive. the performances of the inimitable livers were far surpassed by those of the "comrades of death." "antony is at their head, and he, whose giant frame resists even the most unprecedented demands, succeeds in stupefying himself and forgetting the impending ruin. when he comes to us after a night of revelry his eyes sparkle as brightly, his deep voice has as clear a ring, as at the beginning of the banquet. the queen is his goddess; and who could remain unmoved when the giant bows obediently to the nod of his delicate sovereign, and devises and offers the most unprecedented things to win a smile from her lips? the changeful, impetuous wooing of youth lies far behind him, but his homage, which the ephebi of today would perhaps term antiquated, has always seemed to me as if a mountain were bending before a star. the stranger who sees her in his company believes her a happy woman. amid the fabulous radiance of the festal array, when all who surround her admire, worship, and strew flowers in her path, one might believe that the old sunny days had returned; but when we are alone, how rarely i see her smile! then she plans for the tomb which, under gorgias's direction, is rapidly rising, and considers with him the best method of rendering it an inaccessible place of retreat. "she decided everything, down to the carving on the stone sarcophagi. in addition, there are to be rooms and chambers in the lower story for the reception of her treasures. beneath them she has had corridors made for the pitch and straw which, if the worst should come, are to be lighted. she will then give to the flames the gold and silver, gems and jewels, ebony and ivory, the costly spices--in short, all her valuables. the pearls alone are worth many kingdoms. who can blame her if she prefers to destroy them rather than leave them for the foe" "the garden in which you grew up, barine, is now the scene of the happy, busy life led by alexander and the twins. there, under my brother's guidance, they frolic, build, and dig. cleopatra goes to it whenever she longs for repose after the pursuit of pleasures which have lost their zest. "when, the day before yesterday, antony, crowned with ivy as the new dionysus, drove up the street of the king in the golden chariot drawn by tamed lions, to bring her, the new isis, from the lochias in a lotus flower made of silver and white paste, drawn by four snow-white steeds, she pointed to the glittering train and said: 'between the quiet of the philosopher's garden, where i began my life and still feel most at ease, and the grave, where nothing disturbs my last repose, stretches the street of the king, with this deafening tumult, this empty splendour. it is mine.' "o child, it was very different in former days! she loved mark antony with passionate ardour. he was the first man in the world, and yet he bowed before the supremacy of her will. the longing of the awakening heart, the burning ambition which already kindled the soul of the child, had alike found satisfaction, and the world beheld how the mortal woman, cleopatra, for her lover and herself, could steep this meagre life with the joys of the immortals. he was grateful for them, and the most generous of men laid at the feet of the 'great queen of the east' the might of rome and the kings of two quarters of the globe. "these years were spent by both in one long revel. his marriage with octavia brought the first awakening. it was hard and painful. he had not deserted cleopatra for a woman's sake, but on account of his endangered power and sovereignty. but the unloved octavia constrained him to look up to her with respectful admiration--nay, she became dear to him. "a fierce battle for him and his heart arose between the two. it was fought with very different weapons, and cleopatra conquered. the revel, the dream began again. then came actium, the disenchantment, the awakening, the fall, the flight from the world. our object was not to let him relapse into intoxication, to rouse the hero's strength and courage from their slumber, render him for love's sake a fellow-combatant in the common cause. "but he had become accustomed to see in her the giver of ecstasy. the only thing that he still desired was to drain the cup of pleasure in her society till all was over. she sees this, grieves over it, and leaves no means of rousing him to fresh energy untried; yet how rarely he rallies his powers to earnest labour! "while she is fortifying the mouths of the nile and the frontiers of the country, building ship after ship, arming and negotiating, she can not resist him when he summons her to new pleasures. "though so many of the traits which rendered him great and noble have vanished, she can not give up the old love and clings steadfastly to him because, because--i know not why. a woman's loving heart does not question motives and laws. besides, he is the father of her children and, in playing with them, he regains the old joyousness of mood so enthralling to the heart. "since archibius has taken charge of them, they can dispense with euphronion, their tutor. the clever man knows rome, octavianus, and those who surround him, so he was chosen as an envoy. his object was to induce the conqueror to transfer the sovereignty of egypt to the boys antonius helios, and alexander, but caesar vouchsafed no answer to the mediator in antony's affairs--nay, did not even grant him an audience. "to cleopatra octavianus promised friendly treatment, and the fulfilment of her wish concerning the boys if--and now came the repetition of the old demand--she would put antony out of the world or deliver him into his hands. "this demand, which contains base treachery, was impossible for her noble soul. since she had resolved to build the tomb, granting it became impossible, yet octavianus made every effort to tempt her to the base deed. true, the death of this one man would have spared much bloodshed. the caesar knows how to choose his tools. he sent here as negotiator a clever young man, who possessed great charms of mind and person. no plan to prejudice the queen against her husband and persuade her to commit the treachery was left untried. he went so far as to assure cleopatra that in former years she had won the caesar's heart, and that he still loved her. she accepted these assurances at their true value and remained steadfast. "antony at first paid no heed to the intriguer. but when he learned what means he employed, and especially how he made use of the surrender of one of caesar's murderers, which he himself had long regretted, to brand him as an ungrateful traitor, he would not have been mark antony if he had accepted it quietly. he was completely his old self when he ordered the smooth fellow--who, however, had come as the ambassador of the mighty victor--to be scourged, sent him back to rome, and wrote a letter to octavianus, in which he complained of the man's arrogance and presumption, adding--spite of my heavy heart i can not help smiling when i think of it--that misfortune had rendered him unusually irritable; yet if his action perhaps displeased caesar, he might treat his freedman hipparchus, who was in his power, as he had served thyrsus! "you see that his gay arrogance has not deserted him. trouble slips away from him as rain is shaken from the coarse military cloak which he wore in the parthian war, and therefore it cannot exert its purifying power. "when we consider that, a few years ago, this man, as it were, doubled himself when peril was most threatening, his conduct now, on the eve of the decisive struggle, is intelligible only to those who know him as we do. if he fights, he will no longer do so to save himself, or even to conquer, but to die an honourable death. if he still enjoys the pleasures offered, he believes that he can thus mitigate for himself the burden of defeat, and diminish the grandeur of the conqueror's victory. in the eyes of the world, at least, a man who can still revel like antony is only half vanquished. yet the lofty tone of his mind was lowered. the surrender of the murderer of caesar--his name was turullius--proves it. "and this, barine--tell your husband so--this is what fills me with anxiety and compels me to entreat you not to think of returning home yet. "antony is now the jovial companion of his son, and permits antyllus to share all his own pleasures. of course, he heard of caesarion's passion, and is disposed to help the poor fellow. he has often said that nothing would better serve to rouse the dreamer from torpor than your charming vivacity. as the earth could scarcely have swallowed you up, you would be found; he, too, should be glad to hear you sing again. i know that search will be made for you. "how imperiously this state of affairs requires you to exercise caution needs no explanation. on the other hand, you may find comfort in the tidings that cleopatra intends to send caesarion with his tutor rhodon to ethiopia, by way of the island of philae. archibius heard through timagenes that octavianus considers the son of caesar, whose face so wonderfully resembles his father's, a dangerous person, and this opinion is the boy's death-warrant. antyllus, too, is going on a journey. his destination is asia, where he is to seek to propitiate octavianus and make him new offers. as you know, he was betrothed to his daughter julia. the queen ceased long ago to believe in the possibility of victory, yet, spite of all the demands of the "comrades of death" and her own cares, she toils unweariedly in preparing for the defence of the country. she is doubtless the only member of that society who thinks seriously of the approaching end. "now that the tomb is rising, she ponders constantly upon death. she, who was taught by epicurus to strive for freedom from pain and is so sensitive to the slightest bodily suffering, is still seeking a path which, with the least agony, will lead to the eternal rest for which she longs. iras and the younger pupils of olympus are aiding her. the old man furnishes all sorts of poisons, which she tries upon various animals --nay, recently even on criminals sentenced to death. all these experiments seem to prove that the bite of the uraeus serpent, whose image on the egyptian crown symbolizes the sovereign's instant power over life and death, stills the heart most swiftly and with the least suffering. "how terrible these things are! what pain it causes to see the being one loves most, the mother of the fairest children, so cruelly heighten the anguish of parting, choose death, as it were, for a constant companion, amid the whirl of the gayest amusements! she daily looks all his terrors in the face, yet with proud contempt turns her back upon the bridge which might perhaps enable her for a time to escape the monster. this is grand, worthy of her, and never have i loved her more tenderly. "you, too, must think of her kindly. she deserves it. a noble heart which sees itself forced to pity a foe, easily forgives; and was she ever your enemy? "i have written a long, long letter to solace your seclusion from the world and relieve my own heart. have patience a little while longer. the time is not far distant when fate itself will release you from exile. how often your relatives, archibius and gorgias, whom i now see frequently in the presence of the queen, long to visit you!--but they, too, believe that it might prove a source of danger." the warnings in this letter were confirmed by another from archibius, and soon after they heard that caesarion had really sailed up the nile for ethiopia with his tutor rhodon, and antyllus had been sent to asia to visit octavianus. the latter had received him, it is true; but sent him home without making any pledges. these tidings were not brought by letter, but by gorgias himself, whose visit surprised them one evening late in march. rarely had a guest received a more joyous welcome. when he entered the bare room, barine was making a net and telling the fisherman's daughter dione the story of the wanderings of ulysses. dion, too, listened attentively, now and then correcting or explaining her descriptions, while carving a head of poseidon for the prow of a newly built boat. as gorgias unexpectedly crossed the threshold, the dim light of the lamp fed by kiki-oil seemed transformed into sunshine. how brightly their eyes sparkled, how joyous were their exclamations of welcome and surprise! then came questions, answers, news! gorgias was obliged to share the family supper, which had only waited the return of the father who had brought the guest. the fresh oysters, langustae, and other dishes served tasted more delicious to the denizen of the city than the most delicious banquets of the "comrades of death" to which he was now frequently invited by the queen. all that pyrrhus said voluntarily and told his sons in reply to their questions was so sensible and related to matters which, because they were new to gorgias, seemed so fascinating that, when dion's good wine was served, he declared that if pyrrhus would receive him he, too, would search for pursuers and be banished here. when the three again sat alone before the plain clay mixing vessel it seemed to the lonely young couple as if the best part of the city life which they had left behind had found its way to them, and what did they not have to say to one another! dion and barine talked of their hermit life, gorgias of the queen and the tomb, which was at the same time a treasure chamber. the slanting walls were built as firmly as if they were intended to last for centuries and defy a violent assault. the centre of the lower story was formed by a lofty hall of vast dimensions, in whose midst were the large marble sarcophagi. men were working busily upon the figures in relief intended for the decoration of the sides and lids. this hall, whose low arched ceiling was supported by three pairs of heavy columns, was furnished like a reception-room. the couches, candelabra, and altars were already being made. charmian had kept the fugitives well informed. in the subterranean chambers at the side of the hall, and in the second story, which could not be commenced until the ceiling was completed, store-rooms were to be made, and below and beside them were passages for ventilation and the storage of combustible materials. gorgias regretted that he could not show his friend the hall, which was perhaps the handsomest and most costly he had ever created. the noblest material-brown porphyry, emerald-green serpentine, and the dark varieties of marble-had been used, and the mosaic and brass doors, which were nearing completion, were masterpieces of alexandrian art. to have all this destroyed was a terrible thought, but even more unbearable was that of its object--to receive the body of the queen. again rapturous admiration of this greatest and noblest of women led gorgias to enthusiastic rhapsodies, until dion exercised his office of soberer, and barine asked tidings of her mother, her grandparents, and her sister. there was nothing but good news to be told. true, the architect had to wage a daily battle with the old philosopher, who termed it an abuse of hospitality to remain so long at his friend's with his whole family; but thus far gorgias had won the victory, even against berenike, who wished to take her father and his household to her own home. cleopatra had purchased the house and garden of didymus at thrice their value, the architect added. he was now a wealthy man, and had commissioned him to build a new mansion. the land facing the sea and near the museum had been found, but the handsome residence would not be completed until summer. the dry egyptian air would have permitted him to roof it sooner, but there were many of helena's wishes--most of them very sensible ones--to be executed. barine and dion glanced significantly at each other; but the architect, perceiving it, exclaimed: "your mute language is intelligible enough, and i confess that for five months helena has seemed to me the most attractive of maidens. i see, too, that she has some regard for me. but as soon as i stand before her--the queen, i mean--and hear her voice, it seems as if a tempest swept away every thought of helena, and it is not in my nature to deceive any one. how can i woo a girl whom i so deeply honour--your sister, barine--when the image of another rules my soul?" dion reminded him of his own words that the queen was loved only as a goddess and, without waiting for his reply, turned the conversation to other topics. it was three hours after midnight when pyrrhus warned gorgias that it was time for departure. when the fisherman's fleetest boat was at last bearing him back to the city he wondered whether girls who, before marriage, lived like helena in undisturbed seclusion, would really be better wives and more content with every lot than the much-courted barine, whom dion had led from the gayest whirl of life in the capital to the most desolate solitude. this delightful evening was followed by a day of excitement and grave anxiety. it had been necessary to conceal the young couple from the collector's officials, who took from pyrrhus part of his last year's savings, and the large new boat which he used to go out on the open sea. the preparations for war required large sums; all vessels suitable for the purpose were seized for the fleet, and all residents of the city and country shared the same fate as pyrrhus. even the temple treasures were confiscated, and yet no one could help saying to himself that the vast sums which, through these pitiless extortions, flowed into the treasury, were used for the pleasures of the court as well as for the equipment of the fleet and the army. yet so great was the people's love for the queen, so high their regard for the independence of egypt, so bitter their hate of rome, that there was no rebellion. how earnestly cleopatra, amid all the extravagant revels, from which she could not too frequently absent herself, toiled to advance the military preparations, could be seen even by the exiles from their cliff; for work in two dock-yards was continued day and night, and the harbour was filled with vessels. ships of war were continually moving to and fro, and from the serpent island they witnessed constantly, often by starlight, the drilling of the oarsmen and of whole squadrons upon the open sea. sometimes a magnificent state galley appeared, on whose deck was antony, who inspected the hastily equipped fleet to make the newly recruited sailors one of those kindling speeches in which he was a master hard to surpass. two sons of pyrrhus were now numbered in the crews of the recently built war ships. they had been impressed into the service in april, and though dion had placed a large sum at their father's disposal to secure their release, the attempt was unsuccessful. so there had been sorrow and tears in the contented little colony of human beings on the lonely cliff, and when dionysus and dionichos had a day's leave of absence to visit their relatives, they complained of the cruel haste with which the young men were drilled and wearied to exhaustion, and spoke of the sons of citizens and peasants who had been dragged from their villages, their parents, and their business to be trained for seamen. there was great indignation among them, and they listened only too readily to the agitators who whispered how much better they would have fared on the galleys of octavianus. pyrrhus entreated his sons not to join any attempt at mutiny; the women, on the contrary, would have approved anything which promised to release the youths from their severe service, and their bright cheerfulness was transformed into anxious depression. barine, too, was no longer the same. she had lost her joyous activity, her eyes were often wet with tears, and she moved with drooping head as if some heavy care oppressed her. was it the heat of april, with its desert winds, which had brought the transformation? had longing for the changeful, exciting life of former days at last overpowered her? was solitude becoming unendurable? was her husband's love no longer sufficient to replace the many pleasures she had sacrificed?--no! it could not be that; never had she gazed with more devoted tenderness into dion's face than when entirely alone with him in shady nooks. she who in such hours looked the very embodiment of happiness and contentment, certainly was neither ill nor sorrowful. dion, on the contrary, held his head high early and late, and appeared as proud and self-conscious as though life was showing him its fairest face. yet he had heard that his estates had been sequestrated, and that he owed it solely to the influence of archibius and his uncle, that his property, like that of so many others, had not been added to the royal treasures. but what disaster could he not have speedily vanquished in these days? a great joy--the greatest which the immortals can bestow upon human beings--was dawning for him and his young wife, and in may the women on the island shared her blissful hope. pyrrhus brought from the city an altar and a marble statue of ilythyia, the goddess of birth, called by the romans lucina, which his friend anukis had given him, in charmian's name, for the young wife. she had again spoken of the serpents which lived in such numbers in the neighbouring islands, and her question whether it would be difficult to capture one alive was answered by the freedman in the negative. the image of the goddess and the altar were erected beside the other sanctuaries, and how often the stone was anointed by barine and the women of the fisherman's family! dion vowed to the goddess a beautiful temple on the cliff and in the city if she would be gracious to his beloved young wife. when, in june, the noonday sun blazed most fiercely, the fisherman brought to the cliff helena, barine's sister, and chloris, dion's nurse, who had been a faithful assistant of his mother, and afterwards managed the female slaves of the household. how joyously and gratefully barine held out her arms to her sister! her mother had been prevented from coming only by the warning that her disappearance would surely attract the attention of the spies. and the latter were very alert; for mark antony had not yet given up the pursuit of the singer, nor had the attorney philostratus recalled the proclamation offering two talents for the capture of dion, and both the latter's palace and berenike's house were constantly watched. it seemed more difficult for the quiet helena to accommodate herself to this solitude than for her gayer-natured sister. plainly as she showed her love for barine, she often lapsed into reverie, and every evening she went to the southern side of the cliff and gazed towards the city, where her grandparents doubtless sorely missed her, spite of the careful attention bestowed upon them in gorgias's house. eight days had passed since her arrival, and life in this wilderness seemed more distasteful than on the first and the second; the longing for her grandparents, too, appeared to increase; for that day she had gone to the shore, even under the burning rays of the noonday sun, to gaze towards the city. how dearly she loved the old people! but dion's conjecture that the tears sparkling in helena's eyes when she entered their room at dusk were connected with another resident of the capital, spite of his wife's indignant denial, appeared to be correct; for, a short time after, clear voices were heard in front of the-house, and when a deep, hearty laugh rang out, dion started up, exclaiming, "gorgias never laughs in that way, except when he has had some unusual piece of good fortune!" he hurried out as he spoke, and gazed around; but, notwithstanding the bright moonlight, he could see nothing except father pyrrhus on his way back to the anchorage. but dion's ears were keen, and he fancied he heard subdued voices on the other side of the dwelling. he followed the sound without delay and, when he turned the corner of the building, stopped short in astonishment, exclaiming as a low cry rose close before him: "good-evening, gorgias! i'll see you later. i won't interrupt you." a few rapid steps took him back to barine, and as he whispered, "i saw helena out in the moonlight, soothing her longing for her grandparents in gorgias's arms," she clapped her hands and said, smiling: "that's the way one loses good manners in this solitude. to disturb the first meeting of a pair of lovers! but gorgias treated us in the same way in alexandria, so he is now paid in his own coin." the architect soon entered the room, with helena leaning on his arm. hour by hour he had missed her more and more painfully, and on the eighth day found it impossible to endure life's burden longer without her. he now protested that he could approach her mother and grandparents as a suitor with a clear conscience; for on the third day after helena's departure the relation between him and the queen had changed. in cleopatra's presence the image of the granddaughter of didymus became even more vivid than that of the peerless sovereign had formerly been in helena's. outside of the pages of poetry he had never experienced longing like that which had tortured him during the past few days. chapter xxi. this time the architect could spend only a few hours on the serpent island, for affairs in the city were beginning to wear a very serious aspect, and the building of the monument was pushed forward even during the night. the interior of the first story was nearly completed and the rough portion of the second was progressing. the mosaic workers, who were making the floor of the great hall, had surpassed themselves. it was impossible to wait longer for the sculptures which were to adorn the walls. at present slabs of polished black marble were to occupy the places intended for bronze reliefs; the utmost haste was necessary. octavianus had already reached pelusium; even if seleukus, the commander of the garrison, held the strong fortress a long time, a part of the hostile army might appear before alexandria the following week. a considerable force, however, was ready to meet him. the fleet seemed equal to that of the enemy; the horsemen whom antony had led before the queen would delight the eye of any one versed in military affairs; and the imperator hoped much from the veterans who had served under him in former times, learned to know his generosity and open hand in the hour of prosperity, and probably had scarcely forgotten the eventful days when he had cheerfully and gaily shared their perils and privations. helena remained on the cliff, and her longing for the old couple had materially diminished. her hands moved nimbly, and her cheerful glance showed that the lonely life on the island was beginning to unfold its charms to her. the young husband, however, had grown very uneasy. he concealed it before the women, but old pyrrhus often had much difficulty in preventing his making a trip to the city which might imperil, on the eve of the final decision, the result of their long endurance and privation. dion had often wished to set sail with his wife for a great city in syria or greece, but fresh and mighty obstacles had deterred him. a special danger lay in the fact that every large vessel was thoroughly searched before it left the harbour, and it was impossible to escape from it without passing through the narrow straits east of the pharos or the opening in the heptastadium, both of which were easily guarded. the calm moderation that usually distinguished the young counsellor had been transformed into feverish restlessness, and the heart of his faithful old monitor had also lost its poise; for an encounter between the fleet in which his sons served and that of octavianus was speedily expected. one day he returned from the city greatly excited. pelusium was said to have fallen. when he ascended the cliff he found everything quiet. no one, not even dione, came to meet him. what had happened here? had the fugitives been discovered and dragged with his family to the city to be thrown into prison, perhaps sent to the stone quarries? deadly pale, but erect and composed, he walked towards the house. he owed to dion and his father the greatest blessing in life, liberty, and the foundation of everything else he possessed. but if his fears were verified, if he was bereft of friends and property, even as a lonely beggar he might continue to enjoy his freedom. if, for the sake of those to whom he owed his best possession, he must surrender the rest, it was his duty to bear fate patiently. it was still light. even when he had approached very near the house he heard no sound save the joyous barking of his wolf-hound, argus, which leaped upon him. he now laid his hand upon the lock of the door--but it was flung open from the inside. dion had seen him coming and, enraptured by the new happiness with which this day had blessed him, he flung himself impetuously on the breast of his faithful friend, exclaiming: "a boy, a splendid boy! we will call him pyrrhus." bright tears of joy streamed down the freedman's face and fell on his grey beard; and when his wife came towards him with her finger on her lips, he whispered in a tremulous voice: "when i brought them here you were afraid that the city people would drag us into ruin, but nevertheless you received them as they deserved to be, and--he's going to name him pyrrhus--and now!--what has a poor fellow like me done to have such great and beautiful blessings fall to my lot?" "and i--i?" sobbed his wife. "and the child, the darling little creature!" this day of sunny happiness was followed by others of quiet joy, of the purest pleasure, yet mingled with the deepest anxiety. they also brought many an hour in which helena found an opportunity to show her prudence, while old chloris and the fisherman's wife aided her by their experience. every one, down to the greybeard whose name the little one bore, declared that there had never been a lovelier young mother than barine or a handsomer child than the infant pyrrhus; but dion could no longer endure to remain on the cliff. a thousand things which he had hitherto deemed insignificant and allowed to pass unheeded now seemed important and imperatively in need of his personal attention. he was a father, and any negligence might be harmful to his son. with his bronzed complexion and long hair and beard he required little aid to disguise him from his friends. in the garments shabby by long use, and with his delicate hands calloused by work in the dock-yard, any one would have taken him for a real fisherman. perhaps it was foolish, but the desire to show himself in the character of a father to barine's mother and grandparents and to gorgias seemed worth risking a slight danger; so, without informing barine, who was now able to walk about her room, he set out for the city after sunset on the last day of july. he knew that octavianus was encamped in the hippodrome east of alexandria. the white mounds which had risen there had been recognized as tents, even from the serpent island. pyrrhus had returned in the afternoon with tidings that antony's mounted troops had defeated those of octavianus. this time the news of victory could be trusted, for the palace at lochias was illuminated for a festival and when dion landed there was a great bustle on the quay. one shouted to another that all would be well. mark antony was his old self again. he had fought like a hero. many who yesterday had cursed him, to-day mingled their voices in the shouts of "evoe!" which rang out for the new dionysus, who had again proved his claim to godship. the late visitor found the grandparents alone in the house of gorgias. they had been informed of barine's new happiness long before. now they rejoiced with dion, and wanted to send at once for their host and future son-in-law, who was in the city attending a meeting of the ephebi, although he had ceased some time ago to be a member of their company. but dion wished to greet him among the youths who had invited the architect to give them his aid in deciding the question of the course they were to pursue in the impending battle. yet he did not leave the old couple immediately; he was expecting two visitors--barine's mother and charmian's nubian maid who, since the birth of little pyrrhus, had come to the philosopher's every evening. the former's errand was to ask whether any news of the mother and child had been received during the day; the latter, to get the letters which she delivered the next morning at the fish-market to her friend pyrrhus or his sons. anukis was the first to appear. she relieved her sympathizing heart by a brief expression of congratulations; but, gladly as she would have listened to the most minute details concerning the beloved young mother from the lips of dion himself, she repressed her own wishes for her mistress's sake, and returned to charmian as quickly as possible to inform her of the arrival of the unexpected guest. berenike bore her new dignity of grandmother with grateful joy, yet to- night she came oppressed by a grave anxiety, which was not solely due to her power of imagining gloomy events. her brother arius and his sons were concealed in the house of a friend, for they seemed threatened by a serious peril. hitherto antony had generously borne the philosopher no ill-will on the score of his intimate relations with octavianus; but now that octavianus was encamped outside the city, the house of the man who, during the latter's years of education, had been his mentor and counsellor, and later a greatly valued friend, was watched, by mardion's orders, by the scythian guard. he and his family were forbidden to enter the city, and his escape to his friend had been effected under cover of the darkness and with great danger. the anxious woman feared the worst for her brother if mark antony should conquer, and yet, with her whole heart, she wished the queen to gain the victory. she, who always feared the worst, saw in imagination the fortunes of war change--and there was reason for the belief. the bold general who had gained so many victories, and whom the defeat of actium had only humbled, was said to have regained his former elasticity. he had dashed forward at the head of his men with the heroic courage of former days--nay, with reckless impetuosity. rumour reported that, with the huge sword he wielded, he had dealt from his powerful charger blows as terrible as those inflicted five-and-twenty years before when, not far from the same spot, he struck archelaus on the head. the statement that, in his golden armour, with the gold helmet framing his bearded face, he resembled his ancestor herakles, was confirmed by charmian, who had been borne quickly hither by a pair of the queen's swift horses. cleopatra might need her soon, yet she had left the lochias to question the father about many things concerning the young mother and her boy, who was already dear to her as the first grandson of the man whose suit, it is true, she had rejected, but to whom she owed the delicious consciousness of having loved and been loved in the springtime of life. dion found her changed. the trying months which she had described in her letters to barine had completely blanched her grey hair, her cheeks were sunken, and a deep line between her mouth and nose gave her pleasant face a sorrowful expression. besides, she seemed to have been weeping and, in fact, heart-rending events had just occurred. she had stolen away from lochias in the midst of a revel. antony's victory was being celebrated. he himself presided at the banquet. again his head and breast were wreathed with a wealth of fresh leaves and superb flowers. at his side reclined cleopatra, robed in light-blue garments adorned with lotus-flowers which, like the little coronet on her head, glittered with sapphires and pearls. charmian said she had rarely looked more beautiful. but she did not add that the queen had been obliged to have rouge applied to her pale, bloodless cheeks. it was touching to see antony after his return from the battle, still in his suit of mail, clasp her in his arms as joyously as if he had won her back, a prize of victory, and with his vanished heroic power regained her and their mutual love. her eyes, too, had been radiant with joy and, in the elation of her heart, she had given the horseman who, for a deed of special daring, was presented to her, a helmet and coat of mail of solid gold. yet, even before the revel began, she had been forced to acknowledge to herself that the commencement of the end was approaching; for, a few hours after she had so generously rewarded the man, he had deserted to the foe. then antony had challenged octavianus to a duel, and received the unfeeling reply that he would find many roads to death open. this was the language of the cold-hearted foe, secure of superior power. how sadly, too, she had been disappointed in the hope--that the veterans who had served under antony would desert their new commander at the first summons and flock to his standard!--for all her husband's efforts in this direction, spite of the bewitching power of his eloquence, failed, while every hour brought tidings of the treacherous desertion from his army of individual warriors and whole maniples. his foe deemed his cause so weak that he did not even resist mark antony's attempts to win the soldiers by promises. from all these signs cleopatra now saw plainly, in her lover's victory, only the last flicker of a dying fire; but so long as it burned he should see her follow its light. therefore she had entered the festal hall with the victor of the day. she had witnessed a strange festival. it began with tears and reminded cleopatra of the saying that she herself resembled a banquet served to celebrate a victory before the battle was won. the cup-bearers had scarcely advanced to the guests with their golden vessels when antony turned to them, exclaiming: "pour generously, men; perhaps to-morrow you will serve another master!" then, unlike his usual self, he grew thoughtful and murmured under his breath, "and i shall probably be lying outside a corpse, a miserable nothing." loud sobs from the cup-bearers and servants followed these words; but he addressed them calmly, assuring them that he would not take them into a battle from which he expected an honourable death rather than rescue and victory. at this cleopatra's tears flowed also. if this reckless man of pleasure, this notorious spendthrift and disturber of the public peace, with his insatiate desires, had inspired bitter hostility, few had gained the warm love of so many hearts. one glance at his heroic figure; one memory of the days when even his foes conceded that he was never greater than in the presence of the most imminent peril, never more capable of awakening in others the hope of brighter times than amid the sorest privations; one tone of the orator's deep, resonant voice, which so often came from the heart and therefore gained hearts with such resistless power; the recollection of numberless instances of the bright cheerfulness of his nature and his boundless generosity sufficiently explained the lamentations which burst forth at that banquet, the tears which flowed --tears of genuine feeling. they were also shed for the beautiful queen who, unmindful of the spectators, rested her noble brow, with its coronal of pearls, upon his mighty shoulder. but the grief did not last long, for mark antony, shouted: "hence with melancholy! we do not need the larva! [at the banquets of the egyptians a small figure in the shape of a mummy was passed around to remind the guests that they, too, would soon be in the same condition, and have no more time to enjoy life and its pleasures. the romans imitated this custom by sending the larva, a statuette in the form of a skeleton, to make the round of the revellers. the greek love of beauty converted this ugly scarecrow into a winged genius.] we know, without its aid, that pleasure will soon be over!--xuthus, a joyous festal song!--and you, metrodor, lead the dancers! the first beaker to the fairest, the best, the wisest, the most cherished, the most fervently beloved of women!" as he spoke he waved his goblet aloft, the flute-player, xuthus, beckoned to the chorus, and the dancer metrodor, in the guise of a butterfly, led forth a bevy of beautiful girls, who, in the cloud of ample robes of transparent coloured bombyx which floated around them, executed the most graceful figures and now hovered like mists, now flitted to and fro as if borne on wings, affording the most charming variety to the delighted spectators. the "comrades of death" had again become companions in pleasure; and when charmian, who did not lose sight of her mistress, noticed the sorrowful quiver of her lips and glided out of the circle of guests, the faithful nubian had approached to inform her of dion's arrival. then--but this she concealed from her friends--she hastened to her own apartments to prepare to go out, and when iras opened the door to enter her rooms she went to speak to her about the night attendance upon the queen. but her niece had not perceived her; shaken by convulsive sobs, she had pressed her face among the cushions of a couch, and there suffered the fierce anguish which had stirred the inmost depths of her being to rave itself out with the full vehemence of her passionate nature. charmian called her name and, weeping herself, ripened her arms to her, and for the first time since her return from actium her sister's daughter again sank upon her breast, and they held each other in a close embrace until charmian's exclamation, "with her, for her unto death!" was answered by iras's "to the tomb!" this was a word which, in many an hour of the silent night, had stirred the soul of the woman who had been the youthful playmate of the queen who, with bleeding heart, sat below among the revellers at the noisy banquet and forced her to ask the question: "is not your fate bound to hers? what can life offer you without her?" now, this word was spoken by other lips, and, like an echo of iras's exclamation, came the answer: "unto death, like you, if she precedes us to the other world. whatever may follow dying, nowhere shall she lack charmian's hand and heart." "nor the love and service of iras," was the answering assurance. so they had parted, and the agitation of this fateful moment was still visible in the features of the woman who had formerly sacrificed to her royal playfellow her love, and now offered her life. when, ere leaving gorgias's house, she bade her friend farewell, she pressed dion's hand with affectionate warmth and, as he accompanied her to the carriage, she informed him that, before the first encounter of the troops, archibius had taken the royal children to his estate of irenia, where they were at present. "rarely has it been my fate to experience a more sorrowful hour than when i beheld the queen, her heart torn with anguish, bid them fare well. what fate is impending over the dear ones, who are so worthy of the greatest happiness? to see the twins and little alexander recognized and saved from death and insult, and your boy in barine's arms, is the last wish which i still cherish." on returning to lochias, charmian had a long time to wait ere the queen retired. she dreaded the mood in which she would leave the banquet. for months past cleopatra had returned from the revels of the "comrades of death" saddened to tears, or in a blaze of indignation. how must this last banquet, which began so mournfully and continued with such reckless mirth, affect her? at last, the second hour after midnight, cleopatra appeared. charmian believed that she must be the sport of some delusion, for the queen's eyes which, when she had left her, were full of tears, now sparkled with the radiant light of joy and, as her friend took the crown from her head, she exclaimed: "why did you depart from the banquet so early? perhaps it was the last, but i remember no festival more brilliant. it was like the springtime of my love. mark antony would have touched the heart of a stone statue by that blending of manly daring and humble devotion which no woman can resist. as in former days, hours shrivelled into moments. we were again young, once more united. we were together here at lochias to-night, and yet in distant years and other places. the notes of the singers, the melodies of the musicians, the figures executed by the dancers, were lost upon us. we soared back, hand in hand, to a magic world, and the fairy drama in the realms of the blessed, which passed before us in dazzling splendour and blissful joy, was the dream which i loved best when a child, and at the same time the happiest portion of the life of the queen of egypt. "it began before the gate of the garden of epicurus, and continued on the river cydnus. i again beheld myself on the golden barge, garlanded with wreaths of flowers, reclining on the purple couch with roses strewn around me and beneath my jewelled sandals. a gentle breeze swelled the silken sails; my female companions raised their clear voices in song to the accompaniment of lutes; the perfumes floating around us were borne by the wind to the shore, conveying the tidings that the bliss believed by mortals to be reserved for the gods alone was drawing near. and even as his heart and his enraptured senses yielded to my sway, his mind, as he himself confessed, was under the thrall of mine. we both felt happy, united by ties which nothing, not even misfortune, could sever. he, the ruler of the world, was conquered, and delighted to obey the behests of the victor, because he felt that she before whom he bowed was his own obedient slave. and no magic goblet effected all this. i breathed more freely, as if relieved from the oppressive delusion--the fire had consumed it also--which had burdened my soul until a few hours ago. no magic spell, only the gifts of mind and soul which the vanquished victor, the woman cleopatra, owed to the favour of the immortals, had compelled his lofty manhood to yield. "from the cydnus he brought me hither to the blissful days which we were permitted to pass in my city of alexandria. a thousand sunny hours, musical, echoing surges which long since dashed down the stream of time, he recalled to life, and i--i did the same, and our memories blended into one. what never-to-be-forgotten moments we experienced when, with reckless mirth, we mingled unrecognized among the joyous throng! what olympic delight elated our hearts when the plaudits of thousands greeted us! what joys satiated our minds and senses in our own apartments! what pure, unalloyed nectar of the soul was bestowed upon us by our children-- bliss which we shared with and imparted to each other until neither knew which was the giver and which the receiver! everything sad and painful seemed to be effaced from the book of memory; and the child's dream, the fairy-tale woven by the power of imagination, stood before my soul as a reality--the same reality, i repeat, which i call my past life. "and, charmian, if death comes to-morrow, should i say that he appeared too early--summoned me ere he permitted life to bestow all its best gifts upon me? no, no, and again no! whoever, in the last hour of existence, can say that the fairest dreams of childhood were surpassed by a long portion of actual life, may consider himself happy, even in the deepest need and on the verge of the grave. "the aspiration to be first and highest among the women of her own time, which had already thrilled the young girl's heart, was fulfilled. the ardent longing for love which, even at that period, pervaded my whole being, was satisfied when i became a loving wife, mother, and queen, and friendship, through the favour of destiny, also bestowed upon me its greatest blessings by the hands of archibius, charmian, and iras. "now i care not what may happen. this evening taught me that life had fulfilled its pledges. but others, too, must be enabled to remember the most brilliant of queens, who was also the most fervently beloved of women. for this i will provide: the mausoleum which gorgias is erecting for me will stand like an indestructible wall between the cleopatra who to-day still proudly wears the crown and her approaching humiliation and disgrace. "now i will go to sleep. if my awakening brings defeat, sorrow, and death, i have no reason to accuse my fate. it denied me one thing only the painless peace which the child and the young girl recognized as the chief good; yet cleopatra will possess that also. the domain of death, which, as the egyptians say, loves silence, is opening its doors to me. the most absolute peace begins upon its threshold--who knows where it ends? the vision of the intellect does not extend far enough to discover the boundary where, at the end of eternity--which in truth is endless-- it is replaced by something else." while speaking, the queen had motioned to her friend to accompany her into her chamber, from which a door led into the children's room. an irresistible impulse constrained her to open it and gaze into the dark, empty apartment. she felt an icy chill run through her veins. taking a light from the hand of one of the maids who attended her, she went to little alexander's couch. like the others, it was empty, deserted. her head sank on her breast, the courageous calmness with which she had surveyed her whole past life failed and, like the luxuriant riot in the sky of the most brilliant hues, ere the glow of sunset suddenly yields to darkness, cleopatra's soul, after the lofty elation of the last few hours, underwent a sudden transition and, overwhelmed by deep, sorrowful depression, she threw herself down before the twins' bed, where she lay weeping softly until charmian, as day began to dawn, urged her to retire to rest. cleopatra slowly rose, dried her eyes, and said: "my past life seemed to me just now like a magnificent garden, but how many serpents suddenly stretched out their flat heads with glittering eyes and forked tongues! who tore away the flowers beneath which they lay concealed? i think, charmian, it was a mysterious power which here, in the children's apartment, rules so strongly the most trivial as well as the strongest emotions, it was--when did i last hear that ominous word?--it was conscience. here, in this abode of innocence and purity, whatever resembles a spot stands forth distinctly before the eyes. here, o charmian!--if the children were but here! if i could only--yet, no, no! it is fortunate, very fortunate that they have gone. i must be strong; and their sweet grace would rob me of my energy. but the light grows brighter and brighter. dress me for the day. it would be easier for me to sleep in a falling house than with such a tumult in my heart." while she was being attired in the dark robes she had ordered, loud shouts arose from the royal harbour below, blended with the blasts of the tuba and other signals directing the movements of the fleet and the army, a large body of troops having been marched during the night to the neighbouring hills overlooking the sea. the notes sounded bold and warlike. the well-armed galleys presented a stately appearance. how often cleopatra had seen unexpected events occur, apparent impossibilities become possible! had not the victory of octavianus at actium been a miracle? what if fate, like a capricious ruler, now changed from frowns to smiles? what if antony proved himself the hero of yesterday, the general he had been in days of yore? she had refused to see him again before the battle, that she might not divert his thoughts from the great task approaching. but now, as she beheld him, clad in glittering armour like the god of war himself, ride before the troops on his fiery barbary charger, greeting them with the gay salutation whose warmth sprung from the heart and which had so often kindled the warriors to glowing enthusiasm, she was forced to do violence to her own feelings to avoid calling him and saying that her thoughts would follow his course. but she refrained, and when his purple cloak vanished from her sight her head drooped again. how different in former days were the cheers of the troops when he showed himself to them! this lukewarm response to his gay, glad greeting was no omen of victory. chapter xxii. dion, too, witnessed the departure of the troops. gorgias, whom he had found among the ephebi, accompanied him and, like the queen, they saw, in the cautious manner with which the army greeted the general, a bad omen for the result of the battle. the architect had presented dion to the youths as the ghost of a dead man, who, as soon as he was asked whence he came or whither he was going, would be compelled to vanish in the form of a fly. he could venture to do this; he knew the ephebi-- there was no traitor in their ranks. dion, the former head of the society, had been welcomed like a beloved brother risen from the dead, and he had the gratification, after so long a time, of turning the scale as speaker in a debate. true, he had encountered very little opposition, for the resolve to hold aloof from the battle against the romans had been urged upon the ephebi by the queen herself through antyllus, who, however, had already left the meeting when dion joined it. it had seemed to cleopatra a crime to claim the blood of the noblest sons of the city for a cause which she herself deemed lost. she knew the parents of many, and feared that octavianus would inflict a terrible punishment upon them if, not being enrolled in the army, they fell into his power with arms in their hands. the stars were already setting when the ephebi accompanied their friend, singing in chorus the hymenaeus, which they had been unable to chant on his wedding day. the melody of lutes accompanied the voices, and this nocturnal music was the source of the rumour that the god dionysus, to whom mark antony felt specially akin, and in whose form he had so often appeared to the people, had abandoned him amid songs and music. the youths left dion in front of the temple of isis. gorgias alone remained with him. the architect led his friend to the queen's mausoleum near the sanctuary, where men were toiling busily by torchlight. alight scaffolding still surrounded it, but the lofty first story, containing the real tomb, was completed, and dion admired the art with which the exterior of the edifice suggested its purpose. huge blocks of dark-grey granite formed the walls. the broad front-solemn, almost gloomy in aspect-rose, sloping slightly, above the massive lofty door, surmounted by a moulding bearing the winged disk of the sun. on either side were niches containing statues of antony and cleopatra cast in dark bronze, and above the cornice were brazen figures of love and death, fame and silence, ennobling the egyptian forms with exquisite works of hellenic art. the massive door, adorned with brass figures in relief, would have resisted a battering-ram. on the side of the steps leading to it lay sphinxes of dark-green diorite. everything connected with this building, dedicated to death, was grave and massive, suggesting by its indestructibility the idea of eternity. the second story was not yet finished; masons and stone-cutters were engaged in covering the strong walls with dark serpentine and black marble. the huge windlass stood ready to raise a masterpiece of alexandrian art. this was intended for the pediment, and represented venus victrix with helmet, shield, and lance, leading a band of winged gods of love, little archers at whose head eros himself was discharging arrows, and victoriously fighting against the three-headed cerberus, death, already bleeding from many wounds. there was no time to see the interior of the building, for pyrrhus expected his guest to join him at the harbour at sunrise, and the eastern sky was already brightening with the approach of dawn. as the friends reached the landing-place the brass dome of the serapeum, which towered above everything, was glittering with dazzling splendour. the pennons and masts of the fleet which was about to set sail from the harbour seemed steeped in a sea of golden light. tremulous reflections of the brazen and gilded figures on the prows of the vessels were mirrored in the undulating surface of the sea, and the long shadows of the banks of oars united galley after galley on the surface of the water like the meshes of a net. here the friends parted, and dion walked down the quay alone to meet the freedman, who must have found it difficult to guide his boat out of this labyrinth of vessels. the inspection of the mausoleum had detained the young father too long and, though disguised beyond recognition, he reproached himself for having recklessly incurred a danger whose consequences--he felt this to-day for the first time--would not injure himself alone. the whole fleet was awaiting the signal for departure. the vessels which did not belong to it had been obliged to moor in front of the temple of poseidon, and all were strictly forbidden to leave the anchorage. pyrrhus's fishing-boat was in the midst, and return to the serpent island was impossible at present. how vexatious! barine was ignorant of his trip to the city, and to be compelled to leave her alone while a naval battle was in progress directly before her eyes distressed him as much as it could not fail to alarm her. in fact, the young mother had waited from early dawn with increasing anxiety for her husband. as the sun rose higher, and the strokes of the oars propelling two hundred galleys, the shrill whistle of the flutes marking the time, the deep voices of the captains shouting orders, and the blasts of the trumpets filling the air, were heard far and near around the island, she became so overwhelmed with uneasiness that she insisted upon going to the shore, though hitherto she had not been permitted to take the air except under the awning stretched for the purpose on the shady side of the house. in vain the women urged her not to let her fears gain the mastery and to have patience. but she would have resisted even force in order to look for him who, with her child, now comprised her world. when, leaning on helena's arm, she reached the shore, no boat was in sight. the sea was covered with ships of war, floating fortresses, moving onward like dragons with a thousand legs whose feet were the countless rowers arranged in three or five sets. each of the larger galleys was surrounded by smaller ones, from most of which darted dazzling flashes of light, for they were crowded with armed men, and from the prows of the strong boarding vessels the sunbeams glittered on the large shining metal points whose office was to pierce the wooden sides of the foe. the gilded statues in the prows of the large galleys shone and sparkled in the broad radiance of the day-star, and flashes of light also came from the low hills on the shore. here mark antony's soldiers were stationed, and the sunbeams reflected from the helmets, coats of mail, and lance-heads of the infantry, and the armour of the horsemen quivered with dazzling brilliancy in the hot air of the first day of an egyptian august. amid this blazing, flashing, and sparkling in the morning air, so steeped in warmth and radiance, the sounds of warlike preparations from the land and fleet constantly grew louder. barine, exhausted, had just sunk into a chair which dione, the fisherman's daughter, had placed in the shade of the highest rock on the northwestern shore of the flat island, when a crashing blast of the tuba suddenly echoed from all the galleys in the egyptian fleet, and the whole array of vessels filed past the pharos at the opening of the harbour into the open sea. there the narrow ranks of the wooden giants separated and moved onward in broader lines. this was done quietly and in the same faultless order as a few days before, when a similar manoeuvre had been executed under the eyes of mark antony. the longing for combat seemed to urge them steadily forward. the hostile fleet, lying motionless, awaited the attack. but the egyptian assailants had advanced majestically only a few ships lengths towards the roman foe when another signal rent the air. the women whose ears caught the waves of sound said afterwards that it seemed like a cry of agony--it had given the signal for a deed of unequalled treachery. the slaves, criminals, and the basest of the mercenaries on the rowers' benches in the hold had doubtless long listened intently for it, and, when it finally came, the men on the upper benches raised their long oars and held them aloft, which stopped the work of those below, and every galley paused, pointing at the next with the wooden oars outstretched like fingers, as if seized with horror. the celerity and faultless order with which the raising of the oars was executed and vessel after vessel brought to a stand would have been a credit to an honourable captain, but the manoeuvre introduced one of the basest acts ever recorded in history; and the women, who had witnessed many a naumachza and understood its meaning, exclaimed as if with a single voice: "treachery! they are going over to the enemy!" mark antony's fleet, created for him by cleopatra, surrendered, down to the last galley, to caesar's heir, the victor of actium; and the man to whom the sailors had vowed allegiance, who had drilled them, and only yesterday had urged them to offer a gallant resistance, saw from one of the downs on the shore the strong weapons on which he had based the fairest hopes, not shattered, but delivered into the hands of the enemy! the surrender of the fleet to the foe--he knew it--sealed his destruction; and the women on the shore of the serpent island, who were so closely connected with those on whom this misfortune fell, suspected the same thing. the hearts of both were stirred, and their eyes grew dim with tears of indignation and sorrow. they were alexandrians, and did not desire to be ruled by rome. cleopatra, daughter of the macedonian house of the ptolemies, had the sole right to govern the city of her ancestors, founded by the great macedonian. the sorrow they had themselves endured through her sank into insignificance beside the tremendous blow of fate which in this hour reached the queen. the roman and egyptian fleet returned to the harbour as one vast squadron under the same commander, and anchored in the roadstead of the city, which was now its precious booty. barine had seen enough, and returned to the house with drooping head. her heart was heavy, and her anxiety for the man she loved hourly increased. it seemed as if the very day-star shrank from illuminating so infamous a deed with friendly light; for the dazzling, searching sun of the first of august veiled its radiant face with a greyish-white mist, and the desecrated sea wrinkled its brow, changed its pure azure robe to yellowish grey and blackish green, while the white foam hissed on the crests of the angry waves. as twilight began to approach, the anxiety of the deserted wife became unendurable. not only helena's wise words of caution, but the sight of her child, failed to exert their usual influence; and barine had already summoned the son of pyrrhus to persuade him to take her in his boat to the city, when dione saw a boat approaching the serpent island from the direction of the sea. a short time after, dion sprang on shore and kissed from his young wife's lips the reproaches with which she greeted him. he had heard of the treachery of the fleet while entering a hired boat with the freedman in the harbour of eunostus, pyrrhus's having been detained with the other craft before the temple of poseidon. the experienced pilot had been obliged to steer the boat in a wider curve against the wind through the open sea, and was delayed a long time by a number of the war vessels of the fleet. danger and separation were now passed, and they rejoiced in the happiness of meeting, yet could not feel genuine joy. their souls were oppressed by anxiety concerning the fate of the queen and their native city. as night closed in the dogs barked violently, and they heard loud voices on the shore. dion, with a presentiment that misfortune was threatening himself and his dear ones, obeyed the summons. no star illumined the darkness. only the wavering light of a lantern on the strand and another on the nearest island illumined the immediate vicinity, while southward the lights in the city shone as brightly as ever. pyrrhus and his youngest son were just pushing a boat into the water to release from the sands another which had run aground in a shallow near the neighbouring island. dion sprang in with them, and soon recognized in the hail the voice of the architect gorgias. the young father shouted a joyous greeting to his friend, but there was no reply. soon after, pyrrhus landed his belated guest on the shore. he had escaped--as the fisherman explained--a great danger; for had he gone to the other island, which swarmed with venomous serpents, he might easily have fallen a victim to the bite of one of the reptiles. gorgias grasped dion's hand but, in reply to his gay invitation to accompany him to the house at once, he begged him to listen to his story before joining the ladies. dion was startled. he knew his friend. when his deep voice had such a tone of gloomy discouragement, and his head drooped so mournfully, some terrible event had befallen him. his foreboding had been correct. the first tidings pierced his own soul deeply. he was not surprised to learn that the romans ruled alexandria; but a small band of the conquerors, who had been ordered to conduct themselves as if they were in a friendly country, had forced their way into the architect's large house to occupy the quarters assigned to them. the deaf grandmother of helena and barine, who had but half comprehended what threatened the citizens, terrified by the noisy entrance of the soldiers, had had another attack of apoplexy, and closed her eyes in death before gorgias set out for the island. but it was not only this sad event, which must grieve the hearts of the two sisters, that had brought the architect in a stranger's boat to the serpent island at so late an hour. his soul was so agitated by the horrible incidents of the day that he needed to seek consolation among those from whom he was sure to find sympathy. nor was it wholly the terrible things fate had compelled him to witness which induced him to venture out upon the sea so recklessly, but still more the desire to bring to the fugitives the happy news that they might return with safety to their native city. deeply agitated--nay, confused and overpowered by all he had seen and experienced--the architect, usually so clear and, with all his mental vivacity, so circumspect, began his story. a remonstrance from dion induced him to collect his thoughts and describe events in the order in which they had befallen him. etext editor's bookmarks: fairest dreams of childhood were surpassed golden chariot drawn by tamed lions life had fulfilled its pledges until neither knew which was the giver and which the receiver this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] cleopatra by georg ebers volume . chapter ix. gorgias went to his work without delay. when the twin statues were only waiting to be erected in front of the theatre of dionysus, dion sought him. some impulse urged him to talk to his old friend before leaving the city with his betrothed bride. since they parted the latter had accomplished the impossible; for the building of the wall on the choma, ordered by antony, was commenced, the restoration of the little palace at the point, and many other things connected with the decoration of the triumphal arches, were arranged. his able and alert foreman found it difficult to follow him as he dictated order after order in his writing- tablet. the conversation with his friend was not a long one, for dion had promised barine and her mother to accompany them to the country. notwithstanding the betrothal, they were to start that very day; for caesarion had called upon barine twice that morning. she had not received him, but the unfortunate youth's conduct induced her to hasten the preparations for her departure. to avoid attracting attention, they were to use archibius's large travelling chariot and nile boat, although dion's were no less comfortable. the marriage was to take place in the "abode of peace." the young alexandrian's own ship, which was to convey the newly wedded pair to alexandria, bore the name of peitho, the goddess of persuasion, for dion liked to be reminded of his oratorical powers in the council. henceforward it would be called the barine, and was to receive many an embellishment. dion confided to his friend what he had learned in relation to the fate of the queen and the fleet, and, notwithstanding the urgency of the claims upon gorgias's time, he lingered to discuss the future destiny of the city and her threatened liberty; for these things lay nearest to his heart. "fortunately," cried dion, "i followed my inclination; now it seems to me that duty commands every true man to make his own house a nursery for the cultivation of the sentiments which he inherited from his forefathers and which must not die, so long as there are macedonian citizens in alexandria. we must submit if the superior might of rome renders egypt a province of the republic, but we can preserve to our city and her council the lion's share of their freedom. whatever may be the development of affairs, we are and shall remain the source whence rome draws the largest share of the knowledge which enriches her brain." "and the art which adorns her rude life," replied gorgias. "if she is free to crush us without pity, she will fare, i think, like the maiden who raises her foot to trample on a beautiful, rare flower, and then withdraws it because it would be a crime to destroy so exquisite a work of the creator." "and what does the flower owe to your maiden," cried dion, "or our city to rome? let us meet her claims with dignified resolution, then i think we shall not have the worst evils to fear." "let us hope so. but, my friend, keep your eyes open for other than roman foes. now that it will become known that you do not love her, beware of iras. there is something about her which reminds me of the jackal. jealousy!--i believe she would be capable of the worst--" "yet," dion interrupted, "charmian will soften whatever injury iras plans to do me, and, though i cannot rely much upon my uncle, archibius is above both and favours us and our marriage." gorgias uttered a sigh of relief, and exclaimed, "then on to happiness!" "and you must also begin to provide for yours," replied dion warmly. "forbid your heart to continue this wandering, nomad life. the tent which the wind blows down is not fit for the architect's permanent residence. build yourself a fine house, which will defy storms, as you built my palace. i shall not grudge it, and have already said, the times demand it." "i will remember the advice," replied gorgias. "but six eyes are again bent upon me for direction. there are so many important things to be done while we waste the hours in building triumphal arches for the defeated--trophies for an overthrow. but your uncle has just issued orders to complete the work in the most magnificent style. the ways of destiny and the great are dark; may the brightest sunshine illumine yours! a prosperous journey! we shall hear, of course, when you celebrate the wedding, and if i can i shall join you in the hymenaeus. lucky fellow that you are! now i'm summoned from over yonder! may castor and pollux, and all the gods favourable to travel, aphrodite, and all the loves attend your trip to irenia, and protect you in the realm of eros and hymen!" with these words the warm-hearted man clasped his friend to his breast for the first time. dion cordially responded, and at last shook his hard right hand with the exclamation: "farewell, then, till we meet in irenia on the wedding day, you dear, faithful fellow." then he entered the chariot which stood waiting, and gorgias gazed after him thoughtfully. the hyacinthine purple cloak which dion wore that day had not vanished from his sight when a loud crashing, rattling, and roaring arose behind him. a hastily erected scaffold, which was to support the pulleys for raising the statues, had collapsed. the damage could be easily repaired, but the accident aroused a troubled feeling in the architect's mind. he was a child of his time, a period when duty commanded the prudent man to heed omens. experience also taught him that when such a thing happened in his work something unpleasant was apt to occur within the circle of his friends. the veil of the future concealed what might be in store for the beloved couple; but he resolved to keep his eyes open on dion's behalf and to request archibius to do the same. the pressure of work, however, soon silenced the sense of uneasiness. the damage was speedily repaired, and later gorgias, sometimes with one, sometimes with another tablet or roll of ms. in his hand, issued the most varied orders. gradually the light of this dismal day faded. ere the night, which threatened to bring rain and storm, closed in, he again rode on his mule to the bruchium to overlook the progress of the work in the various buildings and give additional directions, for the labour was to be continued during the night. the north wind was now blowing so violently from the sea that it was difficult to keep the torches and lamps lighted. the gale drove the drops of rain into his face, and a glance northward showed him masses of black clouds beyond the harbour and the lighthouse. this indicated a bad night, and again the boding sense of coming misfortune stole over him. yet he set to work swiftly and prudently, helping with his own hands when occasion required. night closed in. not a star was visible in the sky, and the air, chilled by the north wind, grew so cold that gorgias at last permitted his body slave to wrap his cloak around him. while drawing the hood over his head, he gazed at a procession of litters and men moving towards lochias. perhaps the queen's children were returning home from some expedition. but probably they were rather private citizens on their way to some festival celebrating the victory; for every one now believed in a great battle and a successful issue of the war. this was proved by the shouts and cheers of the people, who, spite of the storm, were still moving to and fro near the harbour. the last of the torch-bearers had just passed gorgias, and he had told himself that a train of litters belonging to the royal family would not move through the darkness so faintly lighted, when a single man, bearing in his hand a lantern, whose flickering rays shone on his wrinkled face, approached rapidly from the opposite direction. it was old phryx, didymus's house slave, with whom the architect had become acquainted, while the aged scholar was composing the inscription for the odeum which gorgias had erected. the aged servant had brought him many alterations of his master's first sketch, and gorgias had reminded him of it the previous day. the workmen by whom the statues had been raised to the pedestal, amid the bright glare of torches, to the accompaniment of a regular chant, had just dropped the ropes, windlasses, and levers, when the architect recognized the slave. what did the old man want at so late an hour on this dark night? the fall of the scaffold again returned to his mind. was the slave seeking for a member of the family? did helena need assistance? he stopped the gray-haired man, who answered his question with a heavy sigh, followed by the maxim, "misfortunes come in pairs, like oxen." then he continued: "yesterday there was great anxiety. today, when there was so much rejoicing on account of barine, i thought directly, 'sorrow follows joy, and the second misfortune won't be spared us.' and so it proved." gorgias anxiously begged him to relate what had happened, and the old man, drawing nearer, whispered that the pupil and assistant of didymus-- young philotas of amphissa, a student, and, moreover, a courteous young man of excellent family--had gone to a banquet to which antyllus, the son of antony, had invited several of his classmates. this had already happened several times, and he, phryx, had warned him, for, when the lowly associate with the lofty, the lowly rarely escape kicks and blows. the young fellow, who usually had behaved no worse than the other ephebi, had always returned from such festivities with a flushed face and unsteady steps, but to-night he had not even reached his room in the upper story. he had darted into the house as though pursued by the watch, and, while trying to rush up the stairs--it was really only a ladder-he had made a misstep and fell. he, phryx, did not believe that he was hurt, for none of his limbs ached, even when they were pulled and stretched, and dionysus kindly protected drunkards; but some demon must have taken possession of him, for he howled and groaned continually, and would answer no questions. true, he was aware, from the festivals of dionysus, that the young man was one of those who, when intoxicated, weep and lament; but this time something unusual must have occurred, for in the first place his handsome face was coloured black and looked hideous, since his tears had washed away the soot in many places, and then he talked nothing but a confused jargon. it was a pity. when an attempt was made, with the help of the garden slave, to carry him to his room, he dealt blows and kicks like a lunatic. didymus now also believed that he was possessed by demons, as often happens to those who, in falling, strike their heads against the ground, and thus wake the demons in the earth. well, yes, they might be demons, but only those of wine. the student was just "crazy drunk," as people say. but the old gentleman was very fond of his pupil, and had ordered him, pliryx, to go to olympus, who, ever since he could remember, had been the family physician. "the queen's leech?" asked gorgias, disapprovingly, and when the slave assented, the architect exclaimed in a positive tone: "it is not right to force the old man out of doors in such a north wind. age is not specially considerate to age. now that the statues stand yonder, i can leave my post for half an hour and will go with you. i don't think a leech is needed to drive out these demons." "true, my lord, true!" cried the slave, "but olympus is our friend. he visits few patients, but he will come to our house in any weather. he has litters, chariots, and splendid mules. the queen gives him whatever is best and most comfortable. he is skilful, and perhaps can render speedy help. people must use what they have." "only where it is necessary," replied the architect. "there are my two mules; follow me on the second. if i don't drive out the demons, you will have plenty of time to trot after olympus." this proposal pleased the old slave, and a short time after gorgias entered the venerable philosopher's tablinum. helena welcomed him like an intimate friend. whenever he appeared she thought the peril was half over. didymus, too, greeted him warmly, and conducted him to the little room where the youth possessed by demons lay on a divan. he was still groaning and whimpering. tears were streaming down his cheeks, and, whenever any member of the household approached, he pushed him away. when gorgias held his hands and sternly ordered him to confess what wrong he had done, he sobbed out that he was the most ungrateful wretch on earth. his baseness would ruin his kind parents, himself, and all his friends. then he accused himself of having caused the destruction of didymus's granddaughter. he would not have gone to antyllus again had not his recent generosity bound him to him, but now he must atone-ay, atone. then, as if completely crushed, he continued to mumble the word, "atone!" and for a time nothing more could be won from him. didymus, however, had the key to the last sentence. a few weeks before, philotas and several other pupils of the rhetorician whose lectures in the museum he attended had been invited to breakfast with antyllus. when the young student loudly admired the beautiful gold and silver beakers in which the wine was served, the reckless host cried: "they are yours; take them with you." when the guests departed the cup-bearer asked philotas, who had been far from taking the gift seriously, to receive his property. antyllus had intended to bestow the goblets; but he advised the youth to let him pay their value in money, for among them were several ancient pieces of most artistic workmanship, which antony, the extravagant young fellow's father, might perhaps be unwilling to lose. thereupon several rolls of gold solidi were paid to the astonished student--and they had been of little real benefit, since they had made it possible for him to keep pace with his wealthy and aristocratic classmates and share many of their extravagances. yet he had not ceased to fulfil his duty to didymus. though he sometimes turned night into day, he gave no serious cause for reproof. small youthful errors were willingly pardoned; for he was a good-looking, merry young fellow, who knew how to make himself agreeable to the entire household, even to the women. what had befallen the poor youth that day? didymus was filled with compassion for him, and, though he gladly welcomed gorgias, he gave him to understand that the leech's absence vexed him. but, during a long bachelor career in alexandria, a city ever gracious to the gifts of bacchus, gorgias had become familiar with attacks like those of philotas and their treatment, and after several jars of water had been brought and he had been left alone a short time with the sufferer, the philosopher secretly rejoiced that he had not summoned the grey-haired leech into the stormy night for gorgias led forth his pupil with dripping hair, it is true, but in a state of rapid convalescence. the youth's handsome face was freed from soot, but his eyes were bent in confusion on the ground, and he sometimes pressed his hand upon his aching brow. it needed all the old philosopher's skill in persuasion to induce him to speak, and philotas, before he began, begged helena to leave the room. he intended to adhere strictly to the truth, though he feared that the reckless deed into which he had suffered himself to be drawn might have a fatal effect upon his future life. besides, he hoped to obtain wise counsel from the architect, to whom he owed his speedy recovery, and whose grave, kindly manner inspired him with confidence; and, moreover, he was so greatly indebted to didymus that duty required him to make a frank confession--yet he dared not acknowledge one of the principal motives of his foolish act. the plot into which he had been led was directed against barine, whom he had long imagined he loved with all the fervour of his twenty years. but, just before he went to the fatal banquet, he had heard that the young beauty was betrothed to dion. this had wounded him deeply; for in many a quiet hour it had seemed possible to win her for himself and lead her as his wife to his home in amphissa. he was very little younger than she, and if his parents once saw her, they could not fail to approve his choice. and the people in amphissa! they would have gazed at barine as if she were a goddess. and now this fine gentleman had come to crush his fairest hopes. no word of love had ever been exchanged between him and barine, but how kindly she had always looked at him, how willingly she had accepted trivial services! now she was lost. at first this had merely saddened him, but after he had drunk the wine, and antyllus, antony's son, in the presence of the revellers, over whom caesarion presided as "symposiarch"-- [director of a banquet.]--had accused barine of capturing hearts by magic spells, he had arrived at the conviction that he, too, had been shamefully allured and betrayed. he had served for a toy, he said to himself, unless she had really loved him and merely preferred dion on account of his wealth. in any case, he felt justified in cherishing resentment against barine, and with the number of goblets which he drained his jealous rage increased. when urged to join in the escapade which now burdened his conscience he consented with a burning brain in order to punish her for the wrong which, in his heated imagination, she had done him. all this he withheld from the older men and merely briefly described the splendid banquet which caesarion, pallid and listless as ever, had directed, and antyllus especially had enlivened with the most reckless mirth. the "king of kings" and antony's son had escaped from their tutors on the pretext of a hunting excursion, and the chief huntsman had not grudged them the pleasure--only they were obliged to promise him that they would be ready to set out for the desert early the next morning. when, after the banquet, the mixing-vessels were brought out and the beakers were filled more rapidly, antyllus whispered several times to caesarion and then turned the conversation upon barine, the fairest of the fair, destined by the immortals for the greatest and highest of mankind. this was the "king of kings," caesarion, and he also claimed the favour of the gods for himself. but everybody knew that aphrodite deemed herself greater than the highest of kings, and therefore barine ventured to close her doors upon their august symposiarch in a manner which could not fail to be unendurable, not only to him but to all the youth of alexandria. whoever boasted of being one of the ephebi might well clench his fist with indignation, when he heard that the insolent beauty kept young men at a distance because she considered only the older ones worthy of her notice. this must not be! the ephebi of alexandria must make her feel the power of youth. this was the more urgently demanded, because caesarion would thereby be led to the goal of his wishes. barine was going into the country that very evening. insulted eros himself was smoothing their way. he commanded them to attack the arrogant fair one's carriage and lead her to him who sought her in the name of youth, in order to show her that the hearts of the ephebi, whom she disdainfully rejected, glowed more ardently than those of the older men on whom she bestowed her favours. here gorgias interrupted the speaker with a loud cry of indignation, but old didymus's eyes seemed to be fairly starting from their sockets as he hoarsely shouted an impatient: "go on!" and philotas, now completely sobered, described with increasing animation the wonderful change that had taken place in the quiet caesarion, as if some magic spell had been at work; for scarcely had the revellers greeted antyllus's words with shouts of joy, declaring themselves ready to avenge insulted youth upon barine, than the "king of kings" suddenly sprang from the cushions on which he had listlessly reclined, and with flashing eyes shouted that whoever called himself his friend must aid him in the attack. here he was urged to still greater haste by another impatient "go on!" from his master, and hurriedly continued his story, describing how they had blackened their faces and armed themselves with antyllus's swords and lances. as the sun was setting they went in a covered boat through the agathodamon canal to lake mareotis. everything must have been arranged in advance; for they landed precisely at the right hour. as, during the trip, they had kept up their courage by swallowing the most fiery wine, philotas had staggered on shore with difficulty and then been dragged forward by the others. after this he knew nothing more, except that he had rushed with the rest upon a large harmamaxa,--[a closed asiatic travelling-carriage with four wheels]--and in so doing fell. when he rose from the earth all was over. as if in a dream he saw scythians and other guardians of the peace seize antyllus, while caesarion was struggling on the ground with another man. if he was not mistaken it was dion, barine's betrothed husband. these communications were interrupted by many exclamations of impatience and wrath; but now didymus, fairly frantic with alarm, cried: "and the child--barine?" but when philotas's sole reply to this question was a silent shake of the head, indignation conquered the old philosopher, and clutching his pupil's chiton with both hands, he shook him violently, exclaiming furiously: "you don't know, scoundrel? instead of defending her who should be dear to you as a child of this household, you joined the rascally scorners of morality and law as the accomplice of this waylayer in purple!" here the architect soothed the enraged old man with expostulations, and the assertion that everything must now yield to the necessity of searching for barine and dion. he did not know which way to turn, in the amount of labour pressing upon him, but he would have a hasty talk with the foreman and then try to find his friend. "and i," cried the old man, "must go at once to the unfortunate child.-my cloak, phryx, my sandals!" in spite of gorgias's counsel to remember his age and the inclement weather, he cried angrily: "i am going, i say! if the tempest hurls me to the earth, and the bolts of zeus strike me, so be it. one misfortune more or less matters little in a life which has been a chain of heavy blows of fate. i buried three sons in the prime of manhood, and two have been slain in battle. barine, the joy of my heart, i myself, fool that i was, bound to the scoundrel who blasted her joyous existence; and now that i believed she would be protected from trouble and misconstruction by the side of a worthy husband, these infamous rascals, whose birth protects them from vengeance, have wounded, perhaps killed her betrothed lover. they trample in the dust her fair name and my white hair!--phryx, my hat and staff." the storm had long been raging around the house, which stood close by the sea, and the sailcloth awning which was stretched over the impluvium noisily rattled the metal rings that confined it. now so violent a gust swept from room to room that two of the flames in the three-branched lamp went out. the door of the house had been opened, and drenched with rain, a hood drawn over his black head, barine's nubian doorkeeper crossed the threshold. he presented a pitiable spectacle and at first could find no answer to the greetings and questions of the men, who had been joined by helena, her grandmother leaning on her arm; his rapid walk against the fury of the storm had fairly taken away his breath. he had little, however, to tell. barine merely sent a message to her relatives that, no matter what tales rumour might bring, she and her mother were unhurt. dion had received a wound in the shoulder, but it was not serious. her grandparents need have no anxiety; the attack had completely failed. doris, who was deaf, had listened vainly, holding her hand to her ear, to catch this report; and didymus now told his granddaughter as much as he deemed it advisable for her to know, that she might communicate it to her grandmother, who understood the movements of her lips. the old man was rejoiced to learn that his granddaughter had escaped so great a peril uninjured, yet he was still burdened by sore anxiety. the architect, too, feared the worst, but by dint of assuring him that he would return at once with full details when he had ascertained the fate of dion and his betrothed bride, he finally persuaded the old man to give up the night walk through the tempest. philotas, with tears in his eyes, begged them to accept his services as messenger or for any other purpose; but didymus ordered him to go to bed. an opportunity would be found to enable him to atone for the offence so recklessly committed. the scholar's peaceful home was deprived of its nocturnal repose, and when gorgias had gone and didymus had refused helena's request to have the aged porter take her to her sister, the old man remained alone with his wife in the tablinum. she had been told nothing except that thieves had attacked her granddaughter, barine, and slightly wounded her lover; but her own heart and the manner of the husband, at whose side she had grown grey, showed that many things were being concealed. she longed to know the story more fully, but it was difficult for didymus to talk a long time in a loud tone, so she silenced her desire to learn the whole truth. but, in order to await the architect's report, they did not go to rest. didymus had sunk into an armchair, and doris sat near at her spindle, but without drawing any threads from her distaff. when she heard her husband sigh and saw him bury his face in his hands, she limped nearer to him, difficult as it was for her to move, and stroked his head, now nearly bald, with her hand. then she uttered soothing words, and, as the anxious, troubled expression did not yet pass from his wrinkled face, she reminded him in faltering yet tender tones how often they had thought they must despair, and yet everything had resulted well. "ah! husband," she added, "i know full well that the clouds hanging over us are very black, and i cannot even see them clearly, because you show them at such a distance. yet i feel that they threaten us with sore tribulation. but, after all, what harm can they do us, if we only keep close together, we two old people and the children of the children whom hades rent from us? we need only to grow old to perceive that life has a head with many faces. the ugly one of to-day can last no longer than you can keep that deeply furrowed brow. but you need not coerce yourself for my sake, husband. let it be so. i need merely close my eyes to see how smooth and beautiful it was in youth, and how pleasant it will look when better days say, 'here we are!'" didymus, with a mournful smile, kissed her grey hair and shouted into her left ear, which was a little less deaf than the other: "how young you are still, wife!" chapter x. the tempest swept howling from the north across the island of pharos, and the shallows of diabathra in the great harbour of alexandria. the water, usually so placid, rose in high waves, and the beacon on the lighthouse of sastratus sent the rent abundance of its flames with hostile impetuosity towards the city. the fires in the pitch-pans and the torches on the shore sometimes seemed on the point of being extinguished, at others burst with a doubly brilliant blaze through the smoke which obscured them. the royal harbour, a fine basin which surrounded in the form of a semicircle the southern part of the lochias and a portion of the northern shore of the bruchium, was brightly illuminated every night; but this evening there seemed to be an unusual movement among the lights on its western shore, the private anchorage of the royal fleet. was it the storm that stirred them? no. how could the wind have set one torch in the place of another, and moved lights or lanterns in a direction opposite to its violent course? only a few persons, however, perceived this; for, though joyous anticipation or anxious fears urged many thither, who would venture upon the quay on such a tempestuous night? besides, no one would have found admittance to the royal port, which was closed on all sides. even the mole which, towards the west, served as the string to the bow of land surrounding it, had but a single opening and--as every one knew--that was closed by a chain in the same way as the main entrance to the harbour between the pharos and alveus steganus. about two hours before midnight, spite of the increasing fury of the tempest, the singular movement of the lights diminished, but rarely had the hearts of those for whom they burned throbbed so anxiously. these were the dignitaries and court officials who stood nearest to cleopatra --about twenty men and a single woman, iras. mardion and she had summoned them because the queen's letter permitted those to whom she had given authority to offer her a quiet reception. after a long consultation they had not invited the commanders of the little roman garrison left behind. it was doubtful whether those whom they expected would return that night, and the roman soldiers who were loyal to antony had gone with him to the war. the hall in the centre of the private roadstead of the royal harbour, where they had assembled, was furnished with regal magnificence; for it was a favourite resort of the queen. the spacious apartment lacked no requisite of comfort, and most of those who were waiting used the well- cushioned couches, while others, harassed by mental anxiety, paced to and fro. as the room had remained unused for months, bats had made nests there, and now that it was lighted, dazzled by the glare of the lamps and candles, they darted to and fro above the heads of the assembly. iras had ordered the commander of the mellakes, or youths, a body-guard composed of the sons of aristocratic macedonian families, to expel the troublesome creatures, and it diverted the thoughts of these devoted soldiers of the queen to strike at them with their swords. others preferred to watch this futile battle rather than give themselves up to the anxiety which filled their minds. the regent was gazing mutely at the ground; iras, pale and absent-minded, was listening to zeno's statements; and archibius had gone out of doors, and, unheeding the storm, was looking across the tossing waves of the harbour for the expected ships. in a wooden shed, whose roof was supported by gaily painted pillars, through which the wind whistled, the servants, from the porters to the litter-bearers, had gathered in groups under the flickering light of the lanterns. the greeks sat on wooden stools, the egyptians upon mats on the floor. the largest circle contained the parties who attended to the queen's luggage and the upper servants, among whom were several maids. they had been told that the queen was expected that night, because it was possible that the strong north wind would bear her ship home with unexpected speed after the victory. but they were better informed: palaces have chinks in doors and curtains, and are pervaded by a very peculiar echo which bears even a whisper distinctly from ear to ear. the body-slave of the commander-in-chief seleukus was the principal spokesman. his master had reached alexandria but a few hours ago from the frontier fortress of pelusium, which he commanded. a mysterious order from lucilius, antony's most faithful friend, brought from taenarum by a swift galley, had summoned him hither. the freedman beryllus, a loquacious sicilian, who, as an actor, had seen better days ere pirates robbed him of his liberty, had heard many new things, and his hearers listened eagerly; for ships coming from the north, which touched at pelusium, had confirmed and completed the evil tidings that had penetrated the sebasteum. according to his story, he was as well informed as if he had been an eye- witness of the naval battle; for he had been present during his master's conversation with many ship-captains and messengers from greece. he even assumed the air of a loyal, strictly silent servant, who would only venture to confirm and deny what the alexandrians had already learned. yet his knowledge consisted merely of a confused medley of false and true occurrences. while the egyptian fleet had been defeated at actium, and antony, flying with cleopatra, had gone first to taenarum at the end of the peloponnesian coast, he asserted that the army and fleet had met on the peloponnesian coast and octavianus was pursuing antony, who had turned towards athens, while cleopatra was on her way to alexandria. his "trustworthy intelligence" had been patched together from a few words caught from seleukus at table, or while receiving and dismissing messengers. in other matters his information was more accurate. while for several days the harbour of alexandria had been closed, vessels were permitted to enter pelusium, and all captains of newly arrived ships and caravans were compelled to report to beryllus's master, the commandant of the important frontier fortress. he had quitted pelusium the night before. the strong wind had driven the trireme before it so swiftly that it was difficult for even the sea gulls to follow. it was easy for the listeners to believe this; for the storm outside howled louder and louder, whistling through the open hall where the servants had gathered. most of the lamps and torches had been blown out, the pitch-pans only sent forth still blacker clouds of smoke, lit by red and yellow flames, and the closed lanterns alone continued to diffuse a flickering light. so the wide space, dim with smoke, was illumined only by a dull, varying glimmer. one of the porters had furnished wine to shorten the hours of waiting; but it could only be drunk in secret, so there were no goblets. the jars wandered from mouth to mouth, and every sip was welcome, for the wind blew keenly, and besides, the smoke irritated their throats. the freedman, beryllus, was often interrupted by paroxysms of coughing, especially from the women, while relating the evil omens which were told to his master in pelusium. each was well authenticated and surpassed its predecessor in significance. here one of iras's maids interrupted him to tell the story of the swallows on the "antonius," cleopatra's admiral galley. he could scarcely report from pelusium an omen of darker presage. but beryllus gazed at her with a pitying smile, which so roused the expectations of the others that the overseer of the litter and baggage porters, who were talking loudly together, hoarsely shouted, "silence!" soon no sound was heard in the open space save the shrill whistling of the wind, a word of command to the harbour-guards, and the freedman's voice, which he lowered to increase the charm of the mysterious events he was describing. he began with the most fulsome praise of cleopatra and antony, reminding his hearers that the imperator was a descendant of herakles. the alexandrians especially were aware that their queen and antony claimed and desired to be called "the new isis" and "the new dionysus." but every one who beheld the roman must admit that in face and figure he resembled a god far more than a man. the imperator had appeared as dionysus, especially to the athenians. in the proscenium of the theatre in that city was a huge bas-relief of the battle of the giants, the famous work of an ancient sculptor--he, beryllus, had seen it--and from amid the numerous figures in this piece of sculpture the tempest had torn but a single one--which? dionysus, the god as whose mortal image antony had once caroused in a vine-clad arbour in the presence of the athenians. the storm to-night was at the utmost like the breath of a child, compared with the hurricane which could wrest from the hard marble the form of dionysus. but nature gathers all her forces when she desires to announce to short-sighted mortals the approach of events which are to shake the world. the last words were quoted from his master who had studied in athens. they had escaped from his burdened soul when he heard of another portent, of which a ship from ostia had brought tidings. the flourishing city pisaura-- here, however, he was interrupted, for several of those present had learned, weeks before, that this place had sunk in the sea, but merely pitied the unfortunate inhabitants. beryllus quietly permitted them to free themselves from the suspicion that people in alexandria had had tidings of so remarkable an event later than those in pelusium, and at first answered their query what this had to do with the war merely by a shrug of the shoulders; but when the overseer of the porters also put the question, he went on "the omen made a specially deep impression upon our minds, for we know what pisaura is, or rather how it came into existence. the hapless city which dark hades ingulfed really belonged to antony, for in the days of its prosperity he was its founder." he measured the group with a defiant glance, and there was no lack of evidences of horror; nay, one of the maid-servants shrieked aloud, for the storm had just snatched a torch from the iron rings in the wall and hurled it on the floor close beside the listener. suspense seemed to have reached its height. yet it was evident that beryllus had not yet drawn his last arrow from the quiver. the maid-servant, whose scream had startled the others, had regained her composure and seemed eager to hear some other new and terrible omen, for, with a beseeching glance, she begged the freedman not to withhold the knew. he pointed to the drops of perspiration which, spite of the wind sweeping through the hall, covered her brow: "you must use your handkerchief. merely listening to my tale will dampen your skin. stone statues are made of harder material, but a soul dwells within them too. their natures may be harsher or more gentle; they bring us woe or heal heavy sorrows, according to their mood. every one learns this who raises his hands to them in prayer. one of these statues stands in alba. it represents mark antony, in whose honour it was erected by the city. and it foresaw what menaced the man whose stone double it is. ay, open your ears! about four days ago a ship's captain came to my master and in my presence this man reported--he grew as pale as ashes while he spoke--what he himself had witnessed. drops of perspiration had oozed from the statue of antony in alba. horror seized all the citizens; men and women came to wipe the brow and cheeks of the statue, but the drops of perspiration did not cease to drip, and this continued several days and nights. the stone image had felt what was impending over the living mark antony. it was a horrible spectacle, the man said." here the speaker paused, and the group of listeners started, for the clang of a gong was heard outside, and the next instant all were on their feet hastening to their posts. the officials in the magnificent hall had also risen. here the silence had been interrupted only by low whispers. the colour had faded from most of the grave, anxious faces, and their timid glances shunned one another. archibius had first perceived, by the flames of the pharos, the red glimmer which announced the approach of the royal galley. it had not been expected so early, but was already passing the islands into the great harbour. it was probably the antonius, the ship on which the old swallows had pecked the young ones to death. though the waves were running high, even in the sheltered harbour, they scarcely rocked the massive vessel. an experienced pilot must have steered it past the shallows and cliffs on the eastern side of the roadstead, for instead of passing around the island of antirrhodus as usual, it kept between the island and the lochias, steering straight towards the entrance into the little royal harbour. the pitch-pans on both sides had been filled with fresh resin and tow to light the way. the watchers on the shore could now see its outlines distinctly. it was the antonius, and yet it was not. zeno, the keeper of the seal, who was standing beside iras, wrapped his cloak closer around his shivering limbs, pointed to it, and whispered, "like a woman who leaves her parents' house in the rich array of a bride, and returns to it an impoverished widow." iras drew herself up, and with cutting harshness replied, "like the sun veiled by mists, but which will soon shine forth again more radiantly than ever." "spoken from the depths of my soul," said the old courtier eagerly, "so far as the queen is concerned. of course, i did not allude to her majesty, but to the ship. you were ill when it left the harbour, garlanded with flowers and adorned with purple sails. and now! even this flickering light shows the wounds and rents. i am the last person whom you need tell that our sun cleopatra will soon regain its old radiance, but at present it is very chilly and cold here by the water's edge in this stormy air; and when i think of our first moment of meeting-- "would it were over!" murmured iras, wrapping herself closer in her cloak. then she drew back shivering, for the rattle of the heavy chain, which was drawn aside from the opening of the harbour, echoed with an uncanny sound through the silence of the night. a mountain seemed to weigh upon the watchers' breasts, for the wooden monster which now entered the little harbour moved forward as slowly and silently as a spectral ship. it seemed as if life were extinct on the huge galley usually swarming with a numerous crew; as if a vessel were about to cast anchor whose sailors had fallen victims to the plague. nothing was heard save an occasional word of command, and the signal whistles of the fluteplayer who directed the rowers. a few lanterns burned with a wavering light on the vast length of her decks. the brilliant illumination which usually shone through the darkness would have attracted the attention of the alexandrians. now it was close to the landing. the group on shore watched every inch of its majestic progress with breathless suspense, but when the first rope was flung to the slaves on shore several men in greek robes pressed forward hurriedly among the courtiers. they had come with a message, whose importance would permit no delay, to the regent mardion, who stood between zeno and iras, gazing gloomily at the ground with a frowning brow. he was pondering over the words in which to address the queen, and within a few minutes the ship would have made her landing, and cleopatra might cross the bridge. to disturb him at that moment was an undertaking few who knew the irritable, uncertain temper of the eunuch would care to risk. but the tall macedonian, who for a short time attracted the eyes of most of the spectators from the galley, ventured to do so. it was the captain of the nightwatch, the aristocratic commander of the police force of the city. "only a word, my lord," he whispered to the regent, "though the time may be inopportune." "as inopportune as possible," replied the eunuch with repellent harshness. "we will say as inopportune as the degree of haste necessary for its decision. the king caesarion, with antyllus and several companions, attacked a woman. blackened faces. a fight. caesarion and the woman's companion--an aristocrat, member of the council--slightly wounded. lictors interfered just in time. the young gentlemen were arrested. at first they refused to give their names--" "caesarion slightly, really only slightly wounded?" asked the eunuch with eager haste. "really and positively. olympus was summoned at once. a knock on the head. the man who was attacked flung him on the pavement in the struggle." "dion, the son of eumenes, is the man," interrupted iras, whose quick ear had caught the officer's report. "the woman is barine, the daughter of the artist leonax." "then you know already?" asked the macedonian in surprise. "so it seems," answered mardion, gazing into the girl's face with a significant glance. then, turning to her rather than to the macedonian, he added, "i think we will have the young rascals set free and brought to lochias with as little publicity as possible." "to the palace?" asked the macedonian. "of course," replied iras firmly. "each to his own apartments, where they must remain until further orders." "everything else must be deferred until after the reception," added the eunuch, and the macedonian, with a slight, haughty nod, drew back. "another misfortune," sighed the eunuch. "a boyish prank," iras answered quickly, "but even a still greater misfortune is less than nothing so long as we are not conscious of it. this unpleasant occurrence must be concealed for the present from the queen. up to this time it is a vexation, nothing more--and it can and must remain so; for we have it in our power to uproot the poisonous tree whence it emanates." "you look as if no one could better perform the task," the regent interrupted, with a side glance at the galley, "so you shall have the commission. it is the last one i shall give, during the queen's absence, in her name." "i shall not fail," she answered firmly. when iras again looked towards the landing-place she saw archibius standing alone, with his eyes fixed upon the ground. impulse prompted her to tell her uncle what had happened; but at the first step she paused, and her thin lips uttered a firm "no." her friend had become a stone in her path. if necessary, she would find means to thrust him also aside, spite of his sister charmian and the old tie which united him to cleopatra. he had grown weak, charmian had always been so. she would have had time enough now to consider what step to take first, had not her heart ached so sorely. after the huge galley lay moored, several minutes elapsed ere two pastophori of the goddess isis, who guarded the goblet of nektanebus, taken from the temple treasures and borne along in a painted chest, stepped upon the bridge, followed by cleopatra's first chamberlain, who in a low tone announced the approach of the queen and commanded the waiting groups to make way. a double line of torch-bearers had been stationed from the landing to the gate leading into the bruchium, and the other on the north, which was the entrance to the palaces on the lochias, since it was not known where cleopatra would desire to go. the chamberlain, however, said that she would spend the night at lochias, where the children lived, and ordered all the flickering, smoking torches, save a few, to be extinguished. mardion, the keeper of the seal, archibius, and iras were standing by the bridge a little in advance of the others, when voices were heard on the ship, and the queen appeared, preceded by several lantern-bearers and followed by a numerous train of court officials, pages, maids, and female slaves. cleopatra's little hand rested on charmian's arm, as, with a haughty carriage of the head, she moved towards the shore. a thick veil covered her face, and a large, dark cloak concealed her figure. how elastic her step was still! how proud yet graceful was the gesture with which she waved a greeting to mardion and zeno. extending her hand to raise iras, who had sunk prostrate before her, she kissed her on the forehead, whispering, "the children?" "all is well with them," replied the girl. then the returning sovereign greeted the others with a gracious gesture, but vouchsafed a word to no one until the eunuch stepped before her to deliver his address of welcome. she motioned him aside with a curt "later"; and when zeno held open the door of the litter, she said in a stifled tone: "i will walk. after the rocking of the galley in this tempest, i feel reluctant to enter the litter. there are many things to be considered to-day. an idea carne to me on the way home. summon the captain of the harbour and his chief counsellors, the heads of the war office, the superintendent of the fortifications on land and water, especially the aristarch and gorgias--i want to see them. time presses. they must be here in two hours-no, in an hour and a half. i wish to examine all their plans and charts of the eastern frontier, especially the river channels and canals in the delta." then she turned to archibius, who had approached the litter, laid her hand upon his arm, and though her veil prevented him from seeing her sparkling eyes, he felt them shining deep into his heart, as the voice whose melody had often enthralled his soul cried, "we will take it as a favourable omen that it is again you who lead me to this palace in a time of trouble." his overflowing heart found expression in the warm reply, "whenever it may be, forever and ever this arm and this life are yours!" and the queen answered in a tone of earnest belief, "i know it." then, with her hand still resting on his arm, she moved forward; but when he began to ask whether she really had cause to speak of a time of trouble, she cut him short with the entreaty "not now. let us say nothing. it is worse than bad--as evil as possible. yet no. few are permitted, in an hour of trouble, to lean on the arm of a faithful friend." the words were accompanied with a light pressure of her little hand, and it seemed as if his old heart was growing young. he dared not speak, for her wish was law; but while moving silently at her side, first along the shore, then through the gate, and finally over the marble flagstones which led to the palace portal, it seemed as if he beheld, instead of the veiled head of the hapless queen, the soft, light- brown locks which floated around the face of a happy child. before his mental vision rose the little mistress of the garden of epicurus. he saw the sparkle of her large blue eyes, which never ceased to question, yet appeared to contain the mystery of the world. he fancied he heard once more the silvery cadence of her voice and the bewitching magic of her pure, childlike laughter, and it was hard to remember what she had become. snatched away from the present, yet conscious that fate had granted him a great boon in this sorrowful hour, he moved on at her side and led her through the main entrance, the spacious inner court-yard of the palace. at the rear was the great door opening into the queen's apartments, before which mardion, iras, and their companions had already stationed themselves. at the left was a smaller one leading into the wing occupied by the children. archibius was about to conduct cleopatra across the lighted court-yard, but she motioned towards the children's rooms, and he understood her. at the threshold her hand fell from his arm, and when he bowed as if to retire, she said kindly: "there is charmian. you both deserve to accompany me to the spot where childhood is dreaming and peace of mind and painlessness have their abode. but respect for the queen has prevented the brother and sister from greeting each other after so long a separation. do so now! then, follow me." while speaking, she hastened with the swift step of youth into the atrium and up the staircase which led to the sleeping-rooms of the princes and princesses. archibius and charmian obeyed her bidding; the brother clasped his sister affectionately in his arms, and in hurried tones, with tears streaming from her eyes, she informed him that to her all seemed lost. antony had behaved in a manner for which no words of condemnation or regret were adequate. probably he would follow cleopatra; the fleet, and perhaps the army also, were destroyed. her fate lay in the hands of octavianus. then she preceded him towards the staircase, where iras was standing with a tall syrian, who bore a striking resemblance to philostratus, barine's former husband. it was his brother alexas, the trusted favourite of mark antony. his place should now have been with him, and archibius asked his sister with a hasty look how this man chanced to be in the queen's train. "his skill in reading the stars," was the reply. "his flattering tongue. he is a parasite of the worst kind, but he tells her many things, he diverts her, and she tolerates him near her person." as soon as iras saw the direction in which cleopatra had turned, she had hastened after her to accompany her to the children. the syrian alexas had stopped her to express his joy in meeting her again. even before the outbreak of the war he had devoted himself zealously to her, and he now plainly showed that during the long period of separation his feelings had by no means cooled. like his brother, he had a head too small for his body, but his well-formed features were animated by a pair of eyes sparkling with a keen, covetous expression. iras, too, seemed glad to welcome the favourite, but ere the brother and sister reached the staircase she left him to embrace charmian, her aunt and companion, with the affection of a daughter. they found the queen in the anteroom of the children's apartments. euphronion, their tutor, had awaited her there, and hurriedly gave, in the most rapturous terms, his report of them and the wonderful gifts which became more and more apparent in each, now as a heritage from their mother, now from their father. cleopatra had interrupted the torrent of his enthusiastic speech with many a question, meanwhile endeavouring to loose the veil wound about her head; but the little hands, unaccustomed to the task, failed. iras noticed it from the stairs and, hastening up the last steps, skilfully released her from the long web of lace. the queen acknowledged the service by a gracious nod, but when the chief eunuch opened the door leading into the children's rooms, she called joyously to the brother and sister, "come!" the tutor, who was obliged to leave the charge of his pupils' sleeping apartments to the eunuchs and nurses, drew back, but iras felt it a bitter affront to be excluded from this visit. her cheeks flushed and paled; her thin lips were more firmly compressed, and she gazed intently at the basket of fruit in the mosaic floor at her feet as if she were counting the cherries that filled it. but she suddenly pushed the little curls back from her forehead, darted swiftly down the stairs, and called to alexas just as he was about to leave the atrium. the syrian hastened towards her, extolling the good fortune that made his sun rise for him a second time that night, but she cut him short with the words; "cease this foolish love-making. it would be far better for us both to become allies in serious, bitter earnest. i am ready." "so am i!" cried the syrian rapturously, pressing his hand upon his heart. meanwhile cleopatra had entered the chamber where the children lay sleeping. deep silence pervaded the lofty hall hung with bright-hued carpets, and softly lighted by three lamps with rose-colored globes. an arch, supported by pillars of libyan marble, divided the wide space. in the first, near a window closely muffled with draperies, stood two ivory beds, surmounted with crowns of gold and silver set with pearls and turquoises. around the edge, carved by the hands of a great artist, ran a line of happy children dancing to the songs of birds in blossoming bushes. the couches were separated by a heavy curtain which the eunuchs had raised at the approach of the queen. cleopatra could now see them all at a single glance, and the picture was indeed one of exquisite charm; for on these beautiful couches slept the twins, the ten-year-old children of cleopatra and antony--antonius helios and cleopatra selene. the girl was pink and white, fair and wonderfully lovely; the boy no less beautiful, but with ebon-black hair, like his father. both curly heads were turned towards the side, and rested on a dimpled hand pressed upon the silken pillow. upon a third bed, beyond the arch, was alexander, the youngest prince, a lovely boy of six, the queen's darling. after gazing a long while at the twins, and pressing a light kiss upon cheeks flushed with slumber, she turned to the youngest child and sank beside his couch as if forced to bend the knee before some apparition which heaven had vouchsafed to her. tears streamed from her eyes as, drawing the child carefully towards her, she kissed his mouth, eyes, and cheeks, and then laid him gently back upon the pillows. the boy, however, did not instantly relapse into slumber, but threw his little plump arms around his mother's neck, murmuring incomprehensible words. she joyously submitted to his caresses, till sleep again overpowered him, and his little hands fell back upon the bed. she lingered a short time longer, with her brow resting on the ivory of the couch, praying for this child and his brother and sister. when she rose again her cheeks were wet with tears, and she pressed her hand upon her breast. then, beckoning to charmian and archibius, she motioned towards alexander and the twins, saying, as she saw tears glittering in the eyes of both: "i know you have lost this happiness for my sake. for each one of these children a great empire would not be too high a price; for them all----what does earth contain that i would not bestow? yet what can i still call my own?" her smiling face clouded as she asked the question. the vision of the lost battle again rose before her mind. her own power was lost, forfeited, and with it the independence of the native land which she loved. rome was already stretching out her hand to add it to the others as a new province. but this should not be! her twin children yonder, sleeping beneath crowns, must wear them! and the boy slumbering on the pillows? how many kingdoms antony had bestowed! what remained for her to give? again she bent to the child. a beautiful dream must have hovered over him, for he was smiling in his sleep. a flood of maternal love welled up in her agitated heart, and, as she saw the companions of her childhood also gazing tenderly at the little steeper, she remembered the days of her own youth, and the quiet happiness which she had enjoyed in her garden of epicurus. power and splendour had begun for her beyond its confines, but the greater the heights of worldly grandeur she attained, the more distant, the more irrecoverable became the consciousness of the happiness which she had once gratefully enjoyed, and for which she had never ceased to long. and as she now gazed once more at the peaceful, smiling face, whence all pain and anxiety seemed worlds away, and all the love which her heart contained appeared to be pouring towards him, the question arose in her mind whether this boy, for whom she possessed no crown, might not be the only happy mortal of them all-happy in the sense of the master. deeply moved by this thought, she turned to archibius and charmian, exclaiming in a subdued tone, in order not to rouse the sleeper: "whatever destiny may await us, i commend this child to your special love and care. if fate denies him the lustre of the crown and the elation of power, teach him to enjoy that other happiness, which-- how long ago it is!--your father unfolded to his mother." archibius kissed her robe, and charmian her hands; but cleopatra, drawing a long breath, said: "the mother has already taken too much time from the queen. i have ordered the news of my arrival to be kept from caesarion. this was well. the most important matters will be settled before our meeting. everything relating to me and to the state must be decided within an hour. but, first, i am something more than mother and queen. the woman also asserts her claim. i will find time for you, my friend, to-morrow!-to my chamber first, charmian. but you need rest still more than i. go with your brother. send iras to me. she will be glad to use her skilful fingers again in her mistress's service." chapter xi. the queen had left her bath. iras had arranged the still abundant waves of her hair, now dark-brown in hue, and robed her magnificently to receive the dignitaries whom, spite of the late hour of the night, she expected. how wonderfully she had retained her beauty! it seemed as if time had not ventured to touch this masterpiece of feminine loveliness; yet the greek's keen eye detected here and there some token of the vanishing spell of youth. she loved her mistress, yet her inmost soul rejoiced whenever she detected in her the same changes which began to appear in herself, the woman of seven-and-twenty, so many years her sovereign's junior. she would gladly have given cleopatra everything at her command, yet she felt as if she must praise nature for an act of justice, when she perceived that even her royal favourite was not wholly relieved from the law which applied to all. "cease your flattery," said cleopatra, smiling mournfully. "they say that the works of the pharaohs here on the nile flout time. the inexorable destroyer is less willing to permit this from the queen of egypt. these are grey hairs, and they came from this head, however eagerly you may deny it. whose save my own are these lines around the corners of the eyes and on the brow? what say you to the tooth which my lips do not hide so kindly as you assert? it was injured the night before the luckless battle. my dear, faithful, skilful olympus, the prince of leeches, is the only one who can conceal such things. but it would not do to take the old man to the war, and glaucus is far less adroit. how i missed olympus during those fatal hours! i seemed a monster even to myself, and he--antony's eye is only too keen for such matters. what is the love of men? a blackened tooth may prove its destruction. an aspect obnoxious to the gaze will pour water on the fiercest fire. what hours i experienced, iras! many a glance from him seemed an insult, and, besides, my heart was filled with torturing anxiety. "something had evidently come between us! i felt it. the trouble began soon after he left alexandria. it gnawed my soul like a worm, and now that i am here again i must see clearly. he will follow me in a few days, i know. pinarius scarpus, with his untouched legions, is in paraetonium, whither he went. at taenarum he resolved to retire from the world which he, on whom it had bestowed so much that is great, hates because he has given it cause for many a shake of the head. but the old spirit woke again, and if fortune, usually so faithful, still aids him, a large force will soon join the new african army. the asiatic princes-- but the ruler of the state must be silent. i entered this room to give the woman her just rights, and the woman shall have them. he will soon be here. he cannot live without me. it is not alone the beaker of nektanebus which draws him after me!" "when the greatest of the great, julius caesar, sued for your love in alexandria, and antony on the cydnus, you did not possess the goblet," observed iras. "it is two years since anubis permitted you to borrow the masterpiece from the temple treasures, and within a few days you will be obliged to restore it. that a mysterious spell emanates from the cup is certain, but one still more powerful dwells in the magic of your own nature." "would that it might assert itself to-day!" cried the queen. "at any rate the power of the beaker impelled antony to do many things. i am not vain enough to believe that it was love, that it was solely the spell of my own personality which drew him to me in that disastrous hour. that battle, that incomprehensible, disgraceful battle! you were ill, and could not see our fleet when it set sail; but even experienced spectators said that handsomer, larger vessels were never beheld. i was right in insisting that the decision of the conflict should be left to them. i was entitled to call them mine. had we conquered, what a proud delight it would have been to say, 'the weapons which you gave to the man you loved gained him the sovereignty of the world!' besides, the stars had assured me that good fortune would attend us on the sea. they had given the same message to anubis here and to alexas upon antony's galley. i also trusted the spell of the goblet, which had already compelled antony to do many things he opposed. so i succeeded in having the decision of the conflict left to the fleet, but the prediction was false, false, false!--how utterly, was to be proved only too soon. "if i had only been told in time what i learned later! after the defeat people were more loquacious. that one remark of a veteran commander of the foot-soldiers would probably have sufficed to open my eyes. he had asked mark antony why he fixed his hopes on miserable wood, exclaiming, 'let the phoenician's and egyptians war on the water, but leave us the land where we are accustomed, with our feet firmly set upon the earth, to fight, conquer, or die!' this alone, i am sure, would have changed my resolve in a happy hour. but it was kept from me. "the conflict began. our troops had lost patience. the left wing of the fleet advanced. at first i watched the battle eagerly, with a throbbing heart. how proudly the huge galleys moved forward! everything was going admirably. antony had made an address, assuring the warriors that, even without soldiers, our ships would destroy the foe by their mere height and size. what orator can so carry his hearers with him! i, too, was still fearless. who cherishes anxiety when confidently expecting victory? when he went on board his own ship, after bidding me farewell far less cordially than usual, i became more troubled. i thought it was evident that his love was waning. what had i become since we left alexandria, and olympus no longer attended me! matters could not continue in this way. i would leave the direction of the war to him, and vanish from his eyes. after he had looked into the beaker of nektanebus, he yielded to my will, but often with indignation. the unconcealed, ineffaceable lines, and the years, the cruel years!" "what thoughts are these?" cried iras. "let me take oath, my sovereign mistress, that as you stand before me--" "thanks to this toilet-table and the new compounds of olympus in these boxes! at that time, i tell you, i was fairly startled at the sight of my own face. trouble does not enhance beauty, and what condemnation the romans had heaped on the woman who meddled with war, the craft of man! i had answers for them, but i would not endure it longer. i had previously determined to hold aloof from the battle on land; but even at the commencement of the conflict, spite of its favourable promise, i longed to leave antony and return to the children. they do not heed the colour of their mother's hair, nor her wrinkles; and he, when he had looked for and called me in vain, would feel for the first time what he possessed in me, would miss me, and with the longing the old love would awaken with fresh ardour. as soon as the fleet had gained the victory i would have the prow of my galley turned southward and, without a farewell, exclaiming only, 'we will meet in alexandria!' set sail for egypt. "i summoned alexas, who had remained with me, and ordered him to give me a signal as soon as the battle was decided in our favour. i remained on deck. then i saw the ships of the foe describing a wide circle. the nauarch told me that agrippa was trying to surround us. this roused a feeling of discomfort. i began to repent having meddled with men's work. "antony looked across at me from his galley. i waved my hand to point out the peril, but instead of eagerly and lovingly answering the greeting, as of yore, he turned his back, and in a short time after the wildest uproar arose around me. one ship became entangled with another, planks and poles shattered with a loud crash. shouts, the cries and moans of the combatants and the wounded, mingled with the thunder of the stones hurled by the catapults, and the sharp notes of the signals which sounded like calls for help. two soldiers, stricken by arrows, fell beside me. it was horrible! yet my courage remained steadfast, even when a squadron--it was commanded by aruntius--pressed upon the fleet. i saw another line of galleys steering directly towards us, and a roman vessel assailed by one of mine--i had named her the selene--turn on her side and sink. this pleased me and seemed like the first presage of victory. i again ordered alexas to have the ship's prow turned as soon as the result of the battle was decided. ere i had ceased speaking, jason, the steward--you know him--appeared with refreshments. i took the beaker, but, ere i could raise it to my lips, he fell to the deck with a cloven skull, mingling his blood with the spilled juice of the grape. my blood seemed fairly to freeze in my veins, and alexas, trembling and deadly pale, asked, 'do you command us to quit the battle?' "every fibre of my being urged me to give the order, but i controlled myself, and asked the nauarch, who was standing on the bridge before me, 'are we gaining the advantage?' the reply was a positive 'yes.' i thought the fitting time had come, and called to him to steer the galley southward. but the man did not seem to understand. meanwhile the noise of the conflict had grown louder and louder. so, in spite of charmian, who besought me not to interfere in the battle, i sent alexas to the commander on the bridge, and while he talked with the grey-bearded seaman, who wrathfully answered i know not what, i glanced at the nearest ship--i no longer knew whether it was friend or foe--and as i saw the rows of restless oars moving in countless numbers to and fro, it seemed as if every ship had become a huge spider, and the long wooden handles of the oars were its legs and feet. each of these monsters appeared to be seeking to snare me in a horrible net, and when the nauarch came to beseech me to wait, i imperiously commanded him to obey my orders. "the luckless man bowed, and performed his queen's behest. the giant was turned, and forced a passage through the maze. "i breathed more freely. "what had threatened me like the legs of huge spiders became oars once more. alexas led me under a roof, where no missiles could reach me. my desire was fulfilled. i had escaped antony's eyes, and we were going towards alexandria and my children. when i at last looked around i saw that my other ships were following. i had not given this order, and was terribly startled. when i sought alexas, he had vanished. the centurion whom i sent to order the nauarch to give the signal to the other ships to return to the battle, reported that the captain's dead body has just been borne away, but that the command should be given. how this was done i do not know, but it produced no effect, and no one noticed the anxious waving of my handkerchief. "we had left antony's galley--he was standing on the bridge--far behind. "i had waved my hand as we passed close by, and he hurried down to bend far over the bulwark and shout to me. i can still see his hands raised to his bearded lips. i did not understand what he said, and only pointed southward and in spirit wished him victory and that this separation might tend to the welfare of our love. but he shook his head, pressed his hand despairingly to his brow, and waved his arms as though to give me a sign, but the antonias swept far ahead of his ship and steered straight towards the south. "i breathed more freely, in the pleasant consciousness of escaping a two- fold danger. had i remained long before antony's eyes, looking as i did then, it might-- "wretched blunder of a wretched woman, i say now. but at that time i could not suspect what a terrible doom i had brought down in that hour upon ourselves, my children, perhaps the whole world; so i remained under the thrall of these petty fears and thoughts until wounded men were carried past me. the sight distressed me; you know how sensitive i am, and with what difficulty i endure and witness suffering. "charmian led me to the cabin. there i first realized what i had done. i had hoped to aid in crushing the hated foe, and now perhaps it was i who had built for him the bridge to victory, to sovereignty, to our destruction. pursued by such thoughts, as if by the furies, i paced restlessly to and fro. "suddenly i heard a loud noise on deck. a crashing blow seemed to shake the huge ship. we were pursued! a roman galley had boarded mine! this was my thought as i grasped the dagger antony had given me. "but charmian came back with tidings which seemed scarcely less terrible than the baseless fear. i had angrily commanded her to leave me because she had urged me to revoke the command to turn back. now, deadly pale, she announced that mark antony had left his galley, followed me in a little five-oared boat, and come on board our ship. "my blood froze in my veins. "he had come, i imagined, to force me to return to the battle and, drawing a long breath, my defiant pride urged me to show him that i was the queen and would obey only my own will, while my heart impelled me to sink at his feet and beseech him, without heeding me, to issue any order which promised to secure a victory. "but he did not come. "i sent charmian up again. antony had been unable to continue the conflict when parted from me. now he sat in front of the cabin with his head resting on his hands, staring at the planks of the deck like one distraught. he, he--antony! the bravest horseman, the terror of the foe, let his arms fall like a shepherd-boy whose sheep are stolen by the wolves. mark antony, the hero who had braved a thousand dangers, had flung down his sword. why, why? because a woman had yielded to idle fears, obeyed the yearning of a mother's heart, and fled? of all human weaknesses, not one had been more alien than cowardice to the man whose recklessness had led him to many an unprecedented venture. and now? no, a thousand times no! fire and water would unite sooner than mark antony and cowardice! he had been under the coercive power of a demon; a mysterious spell had forced him--" "the mightiest power, love," interrupted iras with enthusiastic warmth-- "a love as great and overmastering as ever subjugated the soul of man." "ay, love," repeated cleopatra, in a hollow tone. then her lips curled with a faint tinge of derision, and her voice expressed the very bitterness of doubt, as she continued: "had it been merely the love which makes two mortals one, transfers the heart of one to the other, it might perchance have borne my timorous soul into the hero's breast! but no. violent tempests had raged before the battle. it had not been possible always to appear before him in the guise in which we would fain be seen by those whom we love. "even now, when your skilful hands have served me--there is the mirror-- the image it reflects--seems to me like a carefully preserved wreck--" "o my royal mistress," cried iras, raising her hands beseechingly, "must i again declare that neither the grey hairs which are again brown, nor the few lines which olympus will soon render invisible, nor whatever else perhaps disturbs you in the image you behold reflected, impairs your beauty? unclouded and secure of victory, the spell of your godlike nature--" "cease, cease!" interrupted cleopatra. "i know what i know. no mortal can escape the great eternal laws of nature. as surely as birth commences life, everything that exists moves onward to destruction and decay." "yet the gods," iras persisted, "give to their works different degrees of existence. the waterlily blooms but a single day, yet how full of vigour is the sycamore in the garden of the paneum, which has flourished a thousand years! not a petal in the blossoms of your youth has faded, and is it conceivable that there is even the slightest diminution in the love of him who cast away all that man holds dearest because he could not endure to part, even for days or weeks, from the woman whom he worshipped?" "would that he had done so!" cried cleopatra mournfully. "but are you so sure that it was love which made him follow me? i am of a different opinion. true love does not paralyze, but doubles the high qualities of man. i learned this when caesar was prisoned by a greatly superior force within this very palace, his ships burned, his supply of water cut off. in him also, in antony, i was permitted to witness this magnificent spectacle twenty--what do i say?-a hundred times, so long as he loved me with all the ardour of his fiery soul. but what happened at actium? that shameful flight of the cooing dove after his mate, at which generations yet unborn will point in mockery! he who does not see more deeply will attribute to the foolish madness of love this wretched forgetfulness of duty, honour, fame, the present and the future; but i, iras--and this is the thought which whitens one hair after another, which will speedily destroy the remnant of your mistress's former beauty by the exhaustion of sleepless nights--i know better. it was not love which drew antony after me, not love that trampled in the dust the radiant image of reckless courage, not love that constrained the demigod to follow the pitiful track of a fugitive woman." here her voice fell, and seizing the girl's wrist with a painful pressure, she drew her closer to her side and whispered: "the goblet of nektanebus is connected with it. ay, tremble! the powers that emanate from the glittering wonder are as terrible as they are unnatural. the magic spell exerted by the beaker has transformed the heroic son of herakles, the more than mortal, into the whimpering coward, the crushed, broken nonentity i found upon the galley's deck. you are silent? your nimble tongue finds no reply. how could you have forgotten that you aided me to win the wager which forced antony to gaze into the beaker before i filled it for him? how grateful i was to anubis when he finally consented to trust to my care this marvel of the temple treasures, when the first trial succeeded, and antony, at my bidding, placed the magnificent wreath which he wore upon the bald brow of that crabbed old follower of aristoteles, diomedes, whom he detested in his inmost soul! it was scarcely a year ago, and you know how rarely at first i used the power of the terrible vessel. the man whom i loved obeyed my slightest glance, without its aid. but later--before the battle--i felt how gladly he would have sent me, who might ruin all, back to egypt. besides, i felt--i have already said so--that something had come between us. yet, often as he was on the point of sacrificing me to the importunate romans, i need only bid him gaze into the beaker, and exclaim 'you will not send me hence. we belong together. whither one goes, the other will follow!' and he besought me not to leave him. the very morning before the battle i gave him the drinking cup, urging him, whatever might happen, never, never to leave me. and he obeyed this time also, though the person to whom a magic spell bound him was a fleeing woman. it is terrible. and yet, have i a right to execrate the thrall of the beaker? scarcely! for without the magian's glittering vessel-- a secret voice in my soul has whispered the warning a thousand times during the sleepless nights--he would have taken another on the galley. and i believe i know this other--i mean the woman whose singing enthralled my heart too at the adonis festival just before our departure. i noticed the look with which his eyes sought hers. now i know that it was not merely my old deceitful foe, jealousy, which warned me against her. alexas, the most faithful of his friends, also confirmed what i merely feared--ah! and he told me other things which the stars had revealed to him. besides, he knows the siren, for she was the wife of his own brother. to protect his honour, he cast off the coquettish circe." "barine!" fell in resolute tones from the lips of iras. "so you know her?" asked cleopatra, eagerly. the girl raised her clasped hands beseechingly to the queen, exclaiming: "i know this woman only too well, and how my heart rages against her! o my mistress, that i, too, should aid in darkening this hour! yet it must be said. that antony visited the singer, and even took his son there more than once, is known throughout the city. yet that is not the worst. a barine entering into rivalry with you! it would be too ridiculous. but what bounds can be set to the insatiate greed of these women? no rank, no age is sacred. it was dull in the absence of the court and the army. there were no men who seemed worth the trouble of catching, so she cast her net for boys, and the one most closely snared was the king caesarion." "caesarion!" exclaimed cleopatra, her pale cheeks flushing. "and his tutor rhodon? my strict commands?" "antyllus secretly presented him to her," replied iras. "but i kept my eyes open. the boy clung to the singer with insensate passion. the only expedient was to remove her from the city. archibius aided me." "then i shall be spared sending her away." "nay, that must still be done; for, on the journey to the country caesarion, with several comrades, attacked her." "and the reckless deed was successful?" "no, my royal mistress. i wish it had been. a love-sick fool who accompanied her drew his sword in her defence, raised his hand against the son of caesar, and wounded him. calm yourself, i beseech you, i conjure you--the wound is slight. the boy's mad passion makes me far more anxious." the queen's pouting scarlet lips closed so firmly that her mouth lost the winning charm which was peculiar to it, and she answered in a firm, resolute tone: "it is the mother's place to protect the son against the temptress. alexas is right. her star stands in the path of mine. a woman like this casts a deep shadow on her queen's course. i will defend myself. it is she who has placed herself between us; she has won antony. but no! why should i blind myself? time and the charms he steals from women are far more powerful than twenty such little temptresses. then, there are the circumstances which prevented my concealing the defects that wounded the eyes of this most spoiled of all spoiled mortals. all these things aided the singer. i feel it. in her pursuit of men she had at her command all the means which aid us women to conceal what is unlovely and enhance what is beautiful in a lover's eyes, while i was at a disadvantage, lacking your aid and the long-tested skill of olympus. the divinity on the ship, amid the raging of the storm, was forced more than once to appear before the worshipper ungarlanded, without ornament for the head, or incense." "but though she used all the combined arts of aphrodite and isis, she could not vie with you, my royal mistress!" cried iras. "how little is required to delude the senses of one scarcely more than a child!" "poor boy!" sighed the queen, gently. "had he not been wounded, and were it not so hard to resign what we love, i should rejoice that he, too, understands how to plan and act. perhaps--o iras, would that it might be so!--now that the gate is burst open, the brain and energy of the great caesar will enter his living image. as the egyptians call horus 'the avenger of his father,' perhaps he may become his mother's defender and avenger. if caesar's spirit wakes within him, he will wrest from the dissembler octavianus the heritage of which the nephew robbed the son. you swear that the wound is but a slight one?" "the physicians have said so." "well, then we will hope so. let him enter the conflict of life. we will afford him ample opportunity to test his powers. no foolish passion shall prevent the convalescent youth from following his father upward along the pathway of fame. but send for the woman who ensnared him, the audacious charmer whose aspirations mount to those i hold dearest. we will see how she appears beside me!" "these are grievous times," said iras, who saw in amazement the queen's eyes sparkle with the confident light of victory. "grant your foot its right. let it crush her! monsters enough, on whom you cannot set your foot, throng your path. hence to hades, in these days of conflict, with all who can be quickly removed!" "murder?" asked cleopatra, her noble brow contracting in a frown. "if it must be, ay," replied iras, sharply. "if possible, banishment to an island, an oasis. if necessity requires, to the mines with the siren!" "if necessity requires?" repeated the queen. "i think that means, if it proves that she has deserved the harshest punishment." "she has brought it upon herself by every hour of my sovereign's life clouded through her wiles. in the mines the desire to set snares for husbands and sons soon vanishes." "and people languish in the most terrible torture till death ends their suffering," added cleopatra, in a tone of grave reproof. "no, girl, this victory is too easy. i will not send even my foe to death without a hearing, especially at this time, which teaches me what it is to await the verdict of one who is more powerful. this woman who, as it were, summons me to battle, shall have her wish. i am curious to see the singer again, and to learn the means by which she has succeeded in chaining to her triumphal car so many captives, from boys up to the most exacting men." "what do you intend, my royal mistress?" cried iras in horror. "i intend," said cleopatra imperiously, "to see the daughter of leonax, the granddaughter of didymus, two men whom i hold in high esteem, ere i decide her destiny. i wish to behold, test, and judge my rival, heart and mind, ere i condemn her. i will engage in the conflict to which she challenged the loving wife and mother! but--this is my right--i will compel her to show herself to me as antony so often saw me during the past few weeks, unaided and unimproved by the arts which we both have at command." then, without paying any further heed to her attendant, she went to a window, and, after a swift glance at the sky, added quietly: "the first hour after midnight is drawing to a close. the council will begin immediately. the matter to be under discussion is a venture which might save much from the wreck. the council will last two hours, perchance only one. the singer can wait. "where does she live?" "in the house which belonged to her father, the artist leonax, in the garden of the paneum," replied iras hoarsely. "but, o my queen, if ever my opinion had the slightest weight with you--" "i desire no counsel now, but demand the fulfilment of my orders!" cried cleopatra resolutely. "as soon as those whom i expect are here--" the queen was interrupted by a chamberlain, who announced the arrival of the men whom she had summoned, and cleopatra bade him tell them that she was on her way to the council chamber. then she turned again to iras and in rapid words commanded her to go at once in a closed carriage, accompanied by a reliable person, to barine's house. she must be brought to the palace without the least delay--iras would understand--even if it should be necessary to rouse her from her sleep. "i wish to see her as if a storm had forced her suddenly upon the deck of a ship," she said in conclusion. then snatching a small tablet from the dressing-table, she scrawled upon the wax with a rapid hand: "cleopatra, the queen, desires to see barine, the daughter of leonax, without delay. she must obey any command of iras, cleopatra's messenger, and her companion." then, closing the diptychon, she handed it to her attendant, asking: "whom will you take?" she answered without hesitation, "alexas." "very well," answered cleopatra. "do not allow her a moment for preparations, whatever they may be. but do not forget--i command you-- that she is a woman." with these words she turned to follow the chamberlain, but iras hurried after her to adjust the diadem upon her head and arrange some of the folds of her robe. cleopatra submitted, saying kindly, "something else, i see, is weighing on your heart." "o my mistress!" cried the girl. "after these tempests of the soul, these harassing months, you are turning night into day and assuming fresh labours and anxieties. if the leech olympus--" "it must be," interrupted cleopatra kindly. "the last two weeks seemed like a single long and gloomy night, during which i sometimes left my couch for a few hours. one who seeks to drag what is dearest from the river does not consider whether the cold bath is agreeable. if we succumb, it does not matter whether we are well or ill; if, on the contrary, we succeed in gathering another army and saving egypt, let it cost health and life. the minutes i intend to grant to the woman will be thrown into the bargain. whatever may come, i shall be ready to meet my fate. i am at one of life's great turning points. at such a time we fulfil our obligations and demands, both great and small." a few minutes later cleopatra entered the throne-room and saluted the men whom she had roused from their slumber in order to lay before them a bold plan which, in the lowest depths of misfortune, her yearning to offer fresh resistance to the victorious foe had caused her vigorous, restless mind to evoke. when, many years before, the boy with whom, according to her father's will, she shared the throne, and his guardian pothinus, had compelled her to fly from alexandria, she had found in the eastern frontier of the delta, on the isthmus which united egypt to asia, the remains of the canal which the energetic pharaohs of former times had constructed to connect the mediterranean with the red sea. even at that period she had deemed this ruinous work worthy of notice, had questioned the aenites who dwelt there about the remains, and even visited some of them herself during the leisure hours of waiting. from this survey it had seemed possible, by a great expenditure of labour, to again render navigable the canal which the pharaohs had used to reach both seas in the same galleys, and by which, less than five hundred years before, darius, the founder of the persian empire, had brought his fleet to his support. with the tireless desire for knowledge characteristic of her, cleopatra had sought information concerning all these matters, and in quiet hours had more than once pondered over plans for again uniting the grecian and arabian seas. clearly, plainly, fully, with more thorough knowledge of many details than even the superintendent of the water works, she explained her design to the assembled professionals. if it proved practicable, the rescued ships of the fleet, with others lying in the roadstead of alexandria, could be conveyed across the isthmus into the red sea, and thus saved to egypt and withdrawn from the foe. supported by this force, many things might be attempted, resistance might be considerably prolonged, and the time thus gained used in gathering fresh aid and allies. if the opportunity to make an attack arrived, a powerful fleet would be at her disposal, for which smaller ships also should now be built at klysma, on the basis of the experience gained at actium. the men who had been robbed of their night's rest listened in amazement to the melodious words of this woman who, in the deepest disaster, had devised a plan of escape so daring in its grandeur, and understood how to explain it better than any one of their number could have done. they followed every sentence with the keenest attention, and cleopatra's language grew more impassioned, gained greater power and depth, the more plainly she perceived the unfeigned, enthusiastic admiration paid her by her listeners. even the oldest and most experienced men did not consider the surprising proposal utterly impossible and impracticable. some, among them gorgias, who during the restoration of the serapeum had helped his father on the eastern frontier of the delta, and thus became familiar with the neighbourhood of heroonopolis, feared the difficulties which an elevation of the earth in the centre of the isthmus would place in the way of the enterprise. yet, why should an undertaking which was successful in the days of sesostris appear unattainable? the shortness of the time at their disposal was a still greater source of anxiety, and to this was added the information that one hundred and twenty thousand workmen had perished during the restoration of the canal which pharaoh necho nearly completed. the water way was not finished at that period, because an oracle had asserted that it would benefit only the foreigners, the phoenicians. all these points were duly considered, but could not shake the opinion that, under specially favourable conditions, the queen's plan would be practicable; though, to execute it, obstacles mountain-high were to be conquered. all the labourers in the fields, who had not been pressed into the army, must be summoned to the work. not an hour's delay was permitted. where there was no water to bear the ships, an attempt must be made to convey them across the land. there was no lack of means. the mechanics who had understood how to move the obelisks and colossi from the cataract to alexandria, could here again find opportunity to test their brains and former skill. never had cleopatra's kindling spirit roused more eager, nay, more passionate sympathy, in any counsellors gathered around her than during this nocturnal meeting, and when at last she paused, the loud acclamations of excited men greeted her. the queen's return, and the tidings of the lost battle which she had communicated, were to be kept secret. gorgias had been appointed one of the directors of the enterprise, and the intellect, voice, and winning charm of cleopatra had so enraptured him that he already fancied he saw the commencement of a new love which would be fatal to his regard for helena. it was foolish to raise his wishes so high, but he told himself that he had never beheld a woman more to be desired. yet he cherished a very warm memory of the philosopher's grand-daughter, and lamented that he would scarcely find it possible to bid her farewell. zeno, the keeper of the seal, dion's uncle, had questioned him about his nephew in a very mysterious manner as soon as he entered the council chamber, and received the reply that the wound in the shoulder, which caesarion had dealt with a short roman sword, though severe, was--so the physicians assured them-not fatal. this seemed to satisfy zeno, and ere gorgias could urge him to extend a protecting hand over his nephew, he excused himself and, with a message to the wounded man, turned his back upon him. the courtier had not yet learned what view the queen would take of this unfortunate affair, and besides, he was overloaded with business. the new enterprise required the issue of a large number of documents conferring authority, which all passed through his hands. cleopatra addressed a few kind, encouraging words to each one of the experts who had been entrusted with the execution of her plan. gorgias, too, was permitted to kiss her robe, which stirred his blood afresh. he would fain have flung himself at the feet of this marvellous woman and, with his services, place his life at her disposal. and cleopatra noticed the enthusiastic ardour of his glance. he, too, had been mentioned in the list of barine's admirers. there must be something unusual about this woman! but could she have fired a body of grave men in behalf of a great, almost impossible deed, roused them to such enthusiastic admiration as she, the vanquished, menaced queen? certainly not. she felt in the right mood to confront barine as judge and rival. in the midst of the deepest misery she had spent one happy hour. she had again felt, with joyous pride, that her intellect, fresh and unclouded, would be capable of outstripping the best powers, and in truth she needed no magic goblet to win hearts. etext editor's bookmarks: aspect obnoxious to the gaze will pour water on the fire everything that exists moves onward to destruction and decay trouble does not enhance beauty this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] cleopatra by georg ebers volume . translated from the german by mary j. safford preface. if the author should be told that the sentimental love of our day was unknown to the pagan world, he would not cite last the two lovers, antony and cleopatra, and the will of the powerful roman general, in which he expressed the desire, wherever he might die, to be buried beside the woman whom he loved to his latest hour. his wish was fulfilled, and the love-life of these two distinguished mortals, which belongs to history, has more than once afforded to art and poesy a welcome subject. in regard to cleopatra, especially, life was surrounded with an atmosphere of romance bordering on the fabulous. even her bitterest foes admire her beauty and rare gifts of intellect. her character, on the contrary, presents one of the most difficult problems of psychology. the servility of roman poets and authors, who were unwilling frankly to acknowledge the light emanating so brilliantly from the foe of the state and the imperator, solved it to her disadvantage. everything that bore the name of egyptian was hateful or suspicious to the roman, and it was hard to forgive this woman, born on the banks of the nile, for having seen julius caesar at her feet and compelled mark antony to do her bidding. other historians, plutarch at their head, explained the enigma more justly, and in many respects in her favour. it was a delightful task to the author to scan more closely the personality of the hapless queen, and from the wealth of existing information shape for himself a creature in whom he could believe. years elapsed ere he succeeded; but now that he views the completed picture, he thinks that many persons might be disposed to object to the brightness of his colours. yet it would not be difficult for the writer to justify every shade which he has used. if, during his creative work, he learned to love his heroine, it was because, the more distinctly he conjured before his mind the image of this wonderful woman, the more keenly he felt and the more distinctly he perceived how fully she merited not only sympathy and admiration, but, in spite of all her sins and weaknesses, the self-sacrificing affection which she inspired in so many hearts. it was an author of no less importance than horace who called cleopatra "non humilis mulier"--a woman capable of no baseness. but the phrase gains its greatest importance from the fact that it adorns the hymn which the poet dedicated to octavianus and his victory over antony and cleopatra. it was a bold act, in such an ode, to praise the victor's foe. yet he did it, and his words, which are equivalent to a deed, are among this greatly misjudged woman's fairest claims to renown. unfortunately it proved less potent than the opinion of dio, who often distorted what plutarch related, but probably followed most closely the farce or the popular tales which, in rome, did not venture to show the egyptian in a favourable light. the greek plutarch, who lived much nearer the period of our heroine than dio, estimated her more justly than most of the roman historians. his grandfather had heard many tales of both cleopatra and antony from his countryman philotas, who, during the brilliant days when they revelled in alexandria, had lived there as a student. of all the writers who describe the queen, plutarch is the most trustworthy, but even his narrative must be used with caution. we have closely followed the clear and comprehensive description given by plutarch of the last days of our heroine. it bears the impress of truth, and to deviate widely from it would be arbitrary. unluckily, egyptian records contain nothing which could have much weight in estimating the character of cleopatra, though we have likenesses representing the queen alone, or with her son caesarion. very recently (in ) the fragment of a colossal double statue was found in alexandria, which can scarcely be intended for any persons except cleopatra and antony hand in hand. the upper part of the female figure is in a state of tolerable preservation, and shows a young and attractive face. the male figure was doubtless sacrificed to octavianus's command to destroy antony's statues. we are indebted to herr dr. walther, in alexandria, for an excellent photograph of this remarkable piece of sculpture. comparatively few other works of plastic art, in which we here include coins, that could render us familiar with our heroine's appearance, have been preserved. though the author must especially desire to render his creation a work of art, it is also requisite to strive for fidelity. as the heroine's portrait must reveal her true character, so the life represented here must correspond in every line with the civilization of the period described. for this purpose we placed cleopatra in the centre of a larger group of people, whom she influences, and who enable her personality to be displayed in the various relations of life. should the author succeed in making the picture of the remarkable woman, who was so differently judged, as "lifelike" and vivid as it stamped itself upon his own imagination, he might remember with pleasure the hours which he devoted to this book. georg ebers tutzing on the starnberger see, october , . cleopatra. gorgias, the architect, had learned to bear the scorching sunbeams of the egyptian noonday. though not yet thirty, he had directed--first as his late father's assistant and afterwards as his successor--the construction of the huge buildings erected by cleopatra in alexandria. now he was overwhelmed with commissions; yet he had come hither ere the hours of work were over, merely to oblige a youth who had barely passed the confines of boyhood. true, the person for whom he made this sacrifice was caesarion, the son whom cleopatra had given to julius caesar. antony had honoured him with the proud title of "king of kings"; yet he was permitted neither to rule nor even to issue orders, for his mother kept him aloof from affairs of state, and he himself had no desire to hold the sceptre. gorgias had granted his wish the more readily, because it was apparent that he wanted to speak to him in private, though he had not the least idea what caesarion desired to confide, and, under any circumstances, he could give him only a brief interview. the fleet, at whose head the queen had set sail, with mark antony, for greece, must have already met octavianus's galleys, and doubtless a battle wherein the destiny of the world was decided had also been fought upon the land, gorgias believed that the victory would fall to antony and the queen, and wished the noble pair success with his whole heart. he was even obliged to act as if the battle had been already determined in their favour, for the architectural preparations for the reception of the conquerors were entrusted to his charge, and that very day must witness the decision of the location of the colossal statues which represented antony hand in hand with his royal love. the epitrop mardion, a eunuch, who as regent, represented cleopatra; and zeno, the keeper of the seal, who rarely opposed him, wished to have the piece of sculpture erected in a different place from the one he favoured. the principal objection to the choice made by the powerful head of the government was that it had fallen on land owned by a private individual. this might lead to difficulties, and gorgias opposed it. as an artist, too, he did not approve mardion's plan; for though, on didymus's land, the statues would have faced the sea, which the regent and the keeper of the seal regarded as very important, no fitting background could have been obtained. at any rate, the architect could now avail himself of caesarion's invitation to overlook from the appointed place of meeting--the lofty steps of the temple of isis--the bruchium, and seek the best site for the twin statues. he was anxious to select the most suitable one; the master who had created this work of art had been his friend, and had closed his eyes in death shortly after its completion. the sanctuary whence gorgias commenced his survey was in one of the fairest portions of the bruchium, the alexandrian quarter, where stood the royal palace with its extensive annexes, the finest temples--except the serapeum, situated in another part of the city-and the largest theatres; the forum invited the council of macedonian citizens to its assemblies, and the museum afforded a resort for the scholars. the little square closed in the east by the temple of isis was called the "corner of the muses," on account of the two marble statues of women before the entrance of the house, which, with its large garden facing the square northward and extending along the sea, belonged to didymus, an old and highly respected scholar and member of the museum. the day had been hot, and the shade of the temple of isis was very welcome to the architect. this sanctuary rested upon a lofty foundation, and a long flight of steps led to the cella. the spot afforded gorgias a wide prospect. most of the buildings within his vision belonged to the time of alexander and his successors in the house of the ptolemies, but some, and by no means the least stately, were the work of gorgias himself or of his father. the artist's heart swelled with enthusiastic delight at the sight of this portion of his native city. he had been in rome, and visited many other places numbered among the world's fairest and most populous cities; but not one contained so many superb works of art crowded together in so small a space. "if one of the immortals themselves," he murmured, "should strive to erect for the inhabitants of olympus a quarter meet for their grandeur and beauty, it could scarcely be much more superb or better fitted to satisfy the artistic needs which we possess as their gift, and it would surely be placed on the shore of such a sea." while speaking, he shaded his keen eyes with his hand. the architect, who usually devoted his whole attention to the single object that claimed his notice, now permitted himself the pleasure of enjoying the entire picture in whose finishing touches he had himself borne a part; and, as his practised eye perceived in every temple and colonnade the studied and finished harmony of form, and the admirable grouping of the various buildings and statues, he said to himself, with a sigh of satisfaction, that his own art was the noblest and building the highest of royal pleasures. no doubt this belief was shared by the princes who, three centuries before, had endeavoured to obtain an environment for their palaces which should correspond with their vast power and overflowing wealth, and at the same time give tangible expression to their reverence for the gods and their delight in art and beauty. no royal race in the universe could boast of a more magnificent abode. these thoughts passed through gorgias's mind as the deep azure hue of sea and sky blended with the sunlight to bring into the strongest relief all that the skill and brains of man, aided by exhaustless resources, had here created. waiting, usually a hard task for the busy architect, became a pleasure in this spot; for the rays streaming lavishly in all directions from the diadem of the sovereign sun flooded with dazzling radiance the thousands of white marble statues on the temples and colonnades, and were reflected from the surfaces of the polished granite of the obelisks and the equally smooth walls of the white, yellow, and green marble, the syenite, and the brown, speckled porphyry of sanctuaries and palaces. they seemed to be striving to melt the bright mosaic pictures which covered every foot of the ground, where no highway intersected and no tree shaded it, and flashed back again from the glimmering metal or the smooth glaze in the gay tiles on the roofs of the temples and houses. here they glittered on the metal ornaments, yonder they seemed to be trying to rival the brilliancy of the gilded domes, to lend to the superb green of the tarnished bronze surfaces the sparkling lustre of the emerald, or to transform the blue and red lines of the white marble temples into lapis- lazuli and coral and their gilded decorations into topaz. the pictures in the mosaic pavement of the squares, and on the inner walls of the colonnades, were doubly effective against the light masses of marble surrounding them, which in their turn were indebted to the pictures for affording the eye an attractive variety instead of dazzling monotony. here the light of the weltering sun enhanced the brilliancy of colour in the flags and streamers which fluttered beside the obelisks and egyptian pylons, over the triumphal arches and the gates of the temples and palaces. yet even the exquisite purplish blue of the banner waving above the palace on the peninsula of lochias, now occupied by cleopatra's children, was surpassed by the hue of the sea, whose deep azure near the shore merged far away into bands of lighter and darker blue, blending with dull or whitish green. gorgias was accustomed to grasp fully whatever he permitted to influence him, and though still loyal to his custom of associating with his art every remarkable work of the gods or man, he had not forgotten in his enjoyment of the familiar scene the purpose of his presence in this spot. no, the garden of didymus was not the proper place for his friend's last work. while gazing at the lofty plane, sycamore, and mimosa trees which surrounded the old scholar's home, the quiet square below him suddenly became astir with noisy life, for all classes of the populace were gathering in front of the sequestered house, as if some unusual spectacle attracted them. what could they want of the secluded philosopher? gorgias gazed earnestly at them, but soon turned away again; a gay voice from below called his name. a singular procession had approached the temple--a small body of armed men, led by a short, stout fellow, whose big head, covered with bushy curls, was crowned with a laurel wreath. he was talking eagerly to a younger man, but had paused with the others in front of the sanctuary to greet the architect. the latter shouted a few pleasant words in reply. the laurel-crowned figure made a movement as if he intended to join him, but his companion checked him, and, after a short parley, the older man gave the younger one his hand, flung his heavy head back, and strutted onward like a peacock, followed by his whole train. the other looked after him, shrugging his shoulders; then called to gorgias, asking what boon he desired from the goddess. "your presence," replied the architect blithely. "then isis will show herself gracious to you," was the answer, and the next instant the two young men cordially grasped each other's hands. both were equally tall and well formed; the features bore witness to their greek origin; nay, they might have been taken for brothers, had not the architect's whole appearance seemed sturdie and plainer than that of his companion, whom he called "dion" and friend. as the latter heaped merry sarcasms upon the figure wearing the laurel wreath who had just left him, anaxenor, the famous zither-player, on whom antony had bestowed the revenues of four cities and permission to keep body-guard, and gorgias's deeper voice sometime assented, sometimes opposed with sensible objections, the difference between these two men of the same age and race became clearly apparent. both showed a degree of self-reliance unusual, at their age; but the architect's was the assurance which a man gains by toil and his own merit, dion's that which is bestowed by large possession and a high position in society. those who were ignorant that the weight of dion's carefully prepared speech had more than once turned the scale in the city councils would probably have been disposed to take him for one of the careless worldlings who had no lack of representatives among the gilded youth of alexandria; while the architect's whole exterior, from his keen eye to the stouter leather of his sandals, revealed earnest purpose and unassuming ability. their friendship had commenced when gorgias built a new palace for dion. during long business association people become well acquainted, even though their conversations relate solely to direction and execution. but in this case, he who gave the orders had been only the inspirer and adviser, the architect the warm-hearted friend, eager to do his utmost to realize what hovered before the other's mind as the highest attainable excellence. so the two young men became first dear, and finally almost indispensable to each other. as the architect discovered in the wealthy man of the world many qualities whose existence he had not suspected, the latter was agreeably surprised to find in the artist, associated with his solidity of character, a jovial companion, who--this first made him really beloved by his friend--had no lack of weaknesses. when the palace was completed to dion's satisfaction and became one of the most lauded ornaments of the city, the young men's friendship assumed a new form, and it would have been difficult to say which received the most benefit. dion had just been stopped by the zither-player to ask for confirmation of the tidings that the united forces of antony and cleopatra had gained a great victory on sea and land. in the eating-house at kanopus, where he had breakfasted, everyone was full of the joyful news, and rivers of wine had been drunk to the health of the victors and the destruction of the malicious foe. "in these days," cried dion, "not only weak-brained fellows, like the zither- player, believe me omniscient, but many sensible men also. and why? because, forsooth, i am the nephew of zeno, the keeper of the seal, who is on the brink of despair because he himself knows nothing, not even the veriest trifle." "yet he stands nearest to the regent," observed gorgias, "and must learn, if any one does, how the fleet fares." "you too!" sighed his friend. "had i been standing so far above the ground as you, the architect--by the dog, i should not have failed to note the quarter whence the wind blew! it has been southerly a whole fortnight, and keeps back the galleys coming from the north. the regent knows nothing, absolutely nothing, and my uncle, of course, no more. but if they do learn anything they will be shrewd enough not to enrich me with it." "true, there are other rumours afloat," said the architect thoughtfully. "if i were in mardion's place--" "thank the olympians that you are not," laughed his companion. "he has as many cares as a fish has scales. and one, the greatest. that pert young antyllus was over-ready with his tongue yesterday at barine's. poor fellow! he'll have to answer for it to his tutor at home." "you mean the remark about the queen's accompanying the fleet?" "st!" said dion, putting his finger on his lips, for many men and women were now ascending the temple steps. several carried flowers and cakes, and the features of most expressed joyful emotion. the news of the victory had reached their ears, and they wanted to offer sacrifices to the goddess whom cleopatra, "the new isis," preferred to all others. the first court-yard of the sanctuary was astir with life. they could hear the ringing of the sistrum bells and the murmuring chant of the priests. the quiet fore-court of the little temple of the goddess, which here, in the greek quarter of palaces, had as few visitors as the great temple of isis in the rhakotis was overcrowded, had now become the worst possible rendezvous for men who stood so near the rulers of the government. the remark made about the queen the evening before by antyllus, antony's nineteen-year-old son, at the house of barine, a beautiful young woman who attracted all the prominent men in alexandria, was the more imprudent because it coincided with the opinion of all the wisest heads. the reckless youth enthusiastically reverenced his father, but cleopatra, the object of antony's love, and--in the egyptians' eyes-- his wife, was not antyllus's mother. he was the son of fulvia, his father's first wife, and feeling himself a roman, would have preferred a thousand times to live on the banks of the tiber. besides, it was certain--antony's stanchest friends made no attempt to conceal the fact-- that the queen's presence with the army exerted a disturbing influence, and could not fail to curb the daring courage of the brave general. antyllus, with the reckless frankness inherited from his father, had expressed this view in the presence of all barine's guests, and in a form which would be only too quickly spread throughout alexandria, whose inhabitants relished such speeches. these remarks would be slow in reaching the plain people who were attracted to the temple by the news of the victory, yet many doubtless knew caesarion, whom the architect was awaiting here. it would be wiser to meet the prince at the foot of the steps. both men, therefore, went down to the square, though the crowds seeking the temple and thronging the space before didymus's house made it more and more difficult to pace to and fro. they were anxious to learn whether the rumour that didymus's garden was to be taken for the twin statues had already spread abroad, and their first questions revealed that this was the case. it was even stated that the old sage's house was to be torn down, and within a few hours. this was vehemently contradicted; but a tall, scrawny man seemed to have undertaken to defend the ruler's violence. the friends knew him well. it was the syrian philostratus, a clever extempore speaker and agitator of the people, who placed his clever tongue at the disposal of the highest bidder. "the rascal is probably now in my uncle's employ," said dion. "the idea of putting the piece of sculpture there originated with him, and it is difficult to turn him from such plans. there is some secret object to be gained here. that is why they have brought philostratus. i wonder if the conspiracy is connected in any way with barine, whose husband-- unfortunately for her--he was before he cast her off." "cast her off!" exclaimed gorgias wrathfully. "how that sounds! true, he did it, but to persuade him the poor woman sacrificed half the fortune her father had earned by his brush. you know as well as i that life with that scoundrel would be unbearable." "very true," replied dion quietly. "but as all alexandria melted into admiration after her singing of the 'yalemos' at the adonis festival, she no longer needed her contemptible consort." "how can you take pleasure, whenever it is possible, in casting such slurs upon a woman, whom but yesterday you called blameless, charming, peerless?" "that the light she sheds may not dazzle your eyes. i know how sensitive they are." "then spare, instead of irritating them. besides, your suggestion gives food for thought barine is the granddaughter of the man whose garden they want, and the advocate would probably be glad to injure both. but i'll spoil his game. it is my business to choose the site for the statues." "yours?" replied dion. "unless some on who is more powerful opposes you. i would try to win my uncle, but there are others superior to him. the queen has gone, it is true; but iras, whose commands do not die away in empty air, told me this morning that she had her own ideas about the errection of the statue." "then you bring philostratus here!" cried the architect. "i?" asked the other in amazement. "ay, you," asserted gorgias. "did not you say that iras, with whom you played when a boy is now becoming troublesome by watching your every step? and then--you visit barine constantly and she so evidently prefers you, that the fact might easily reach the ears of iras." "as argus has a hundred, jealousy has a thousand eyes," interrupted dion, "yet i seek nothing from barine, save two pleasant hours when the day is drawing towards its close. no matter; iras, i suppose, heard that i was favoured by this much-admired woman. iras herself has some little regard for me, so she bought philostratus. she is willing to pay something for the sake of injuring the woman who stands between us, or the old man who has the good or evil fortune of being her rival's grandfather. no, no; that would be too base! and believe me, if iras desired to ruin barine, she need not make so long a circuit. besides, she is not really a wicked woman. or is she? all i know is that where any advantage is to be gained for the queen, she does not shrink even from doubtful means, and also that the hours speed swiftly for any one in her society. yes, iras, iras--i like to utter the name. yet i do not love her, and she--loves only herself, and--a thing few can say--another still more. what is the world, what am i to her, compared with the queen, the idol of her heart? since cleopatra's departure, iras seems like the forsaken ariadne, or a young roe which has strayed from its mother. but stop; she may have a hand in the game: the queen trusted her as if she were her sister, her daughter. no one knows what she and charmian are to her. they are called waiting-women, but are their sovereign's dearest friends. when, on the departure of the fleet, cleopatra was compelled to leave iras here--she was ill with a fever--she gave her the charge of her children, even those whose beards were beginning to grow, the 'king of kings' caesarion, whose tutor punishes him for every act of disobedience; and the unruly lad antyllus, who has forced his way the last few evenings into our friend's house." "antony, his own father, introduced him to her." "very true, and antyllus took caesarion there. this vexed iras, like everything which may disturb the queen. barine is troublesome on account of cleopatra, whom she wishes to spare every, annoyance, and perhaps she dislikes her a little for my sake. now she wants to inflict on the old man, barine's grandfather, whom she loves, some injury which the spoiled, imprudent woman will scarcely accept quietly, and which will rouse her to commit some folly that can be used against her. iras will hardly seek her life, but she may have in mind exile or something of that kind. she knows people as well as i know her, my neighbour and playmate, whom many a time i was obliged to lift down from some tree into which the child had climbed as nimbly as a kitten." "i myself suggested this conjecture, yet i cannot credit her with such unworthy intrigues," cried gorgias. "credit her?" repeated dion, shrugging his shoulders. "i only transport myself in imagination to the court and to the soul of the woman who helps make rain and sunshine there. you have columns rounded and beams hewed that they may afterwards support the roof to which in due time you wish to direct attention. she and all who have a voice in the management of court affairs look first at the roof and then seek anything to raise and support it, though it should be corpses, ruined lives, and broken hearts. the point is that the roof shall stand until the architect, the queen, sees and approves it. as to the rest--but there is the carriage--it doubtless brings--you were--" he paused, laid his hand on his friend's arm, and whispered hastily: "iras is undoubtedly at the bottom of this, and it is not antyllus, but yonder dreaming lad, for whom she is moving. when she spoke of the statues just now, she asked in the same breath where i had seen him on the evening of the day before yesterday, and that was the very time he called on barine. the plot was made by her, and iras is doing all the work. the mouse is not caught while the trap is closed, and she is just raising her little hand to open it." "if only she does not use some man's hand," replied the architect wrathfully, and then turned towards the carriage and the elderly man who had just left it, and was now approaching the two friends. chapter ii. when caesarion's companion reached dion and gorgias, the former modestly made a movement to retire. but archibius was acquainted with both, and begged him to remain. there was an air of precision and clearness in the voice and quiet movements of this big, broad-shouldered man, with his robust frame and well-developed limbs. though only a few years beyond forty, not merely his grey hair but the calm, impressive dignity of his whole manner indicated a more advanced age. "the young king yonder," he began in a deep, musical voice, motioning towards the equipage, "wished to speak to you here in person, gorgias, but by my advice he refrained from mingling with the crowd. i have brought him hither in a closed carriage. if the plan suits you, enter it and talk with him while i keep watch here. strange things seem to be occurring, and yonder--or am i mistaken? has the monster dragged along there any connection with the twin statues of the queen and her friend? was it you who selected that place for them?" "no," replied the architect. "the order was issued over my head and against my will." "i thought so," replied the other. "this is the very matter of which caesarion wishes to speak. if you can prevent the erection of the statues on didymus's land, so much the better. i will do everything in my power to aid you, but in the queen's absence that is little." "then what can be said of my influence?" asked the architect. "who, in these days, knows whether the sky will be blue or grey to-morrow? i can guarantee one thing only: i will do my best to prevent this injury of an estimable citizen, interference with the laws of our city, and violation of good taste." "say so to the young king, but express yourself cautiously," replied archibius as the architect turned towards the carriage. as soon as dion and the older man were alone, the latter inquired the cause of the increasing uproar, and as, like every well-disposed alexandrian, he esteemed archibius, and knew that he was intimately acquainted with the owner of the imperilled garden, and therefore with his granddaughter barine, he confided his anxiety to him without reserve. "iras is your niece, it is true," he said in his open-hearted manner, "but i know that you understand her character. it suits her now to fling a golden apple into the path of a person whom she dislikes and believes incautious, that she may pick it up and thus afford her an opportunity to bring a charge of theft." noting the inquiring glance archibius fixed upon him as he made this comparison, he changed his tone and continued more earnestly: "zeus is great, but destiny is superior even to him. zeus can accomplish much, but when iras and your sister charmian, who unfortunately is now with the queen, wish to effect anything, he, like the regent mardion, must give way. the more lovable cleopatra is, the more surely every one prizes a position near her person above aught else, especially such trifles as law and justice." "these are harsh words," responded archibius, and seem the more bitter in proportion to the germ of truth which they contain. our court shares the fate of every other in the east, and those to whom rome formerly set the example of holding law and justice sacred--" "can now go there," interrupted dion, "to learn how rudely both are trampled under foot. the sovereigns here and there may smile at one another like the augurs. they are like brothers--" "but with the difference," archibius broke in, "that the head of our public affairs is the very embodiment of affability and grace; while in rome, on the contrary, harsh severity and bloody arrogance, or even repulsive servility, guide the reins." here archibius interrupted himself to point to the shouting throng advancing towards them. "you are right," dion answered. "let us defer this discussion till we can pursue it in the house of the charming barine. but i rarely meet you there, though by blood you are so nearly allied to her father. i am her friend--at my age that might easily mean her lover. but in our case the comparison would not suit. yet perhaps you will believe me, for you have the right to call yourself the friend of the most bewitching of women." a sorrowful smile flitted over the grave, set features of the older man, who, raising his hand as if in protest, answered carelessly: "i grew up with cleopatra, but a private citizen loves a queen only as a divinity. i believe in your friendship for barine, though i deem it dangerous." "if you mean that it might injure the lovely woman," replied dion, raising his head more proudly as if to intimate that he required no warning, even from him, "perhaps you are right. only i beg you not to misunderstand me. i am not vain enough to suppose that i could win her heart, but unfortunately there are many who cannot forgive the power of attraction which she exerts over me as well as upon all. so many men gladly visit barine's house that there are an equal number of women who would rejoice to close it. among them, of course, is iras. she dislikes my friend; nay, i fear that what you witness yonder is the apple she flung in order, if not to ruin, at least to drive her from the city, ere the queen--may the gods grant her victory!--ere cleopatra returns. you know your niece iras. like your sister charmian, she will shrink from nothing to remove an annoyance from her mistress's pathway, and it will hardly please cleopatra when she learns that the two youths whose welfare lies nearest her heart--antyllus and caesarion--seek barine's house, no matter how stainless the latter's reputation may be." "i have just heard of it," replied archibius, "and i, too, am anxious. antony's son has inherited much of his father's insatiable love of pleasure. but caesarion! he has not yet ventured out of the dreamland which surrounds him into actual life. what others scarcely perceive deals him a serious blow. i fear eros is sharpening arrows for him which will pierce deep into his heart. while talking with me he seemed strangely changed. his dreamy eyes glittered like a drunkard's when he spoke of barine. i fear, i fear--" "impossible!" cried dion, in surprise, nay, almost terror. "if that is the case, iras is not wholly wrong, and we must deal with the matter differently. but it is of the first importance to conceal the fact that caesarion has any interest in the affairs of the old house-owner. to seek to maintain the old man's right to his own property is a matter of course, and i will undertake to do this and try to get yonder orator home just see how the braggart is swinging his arms in iras's service! as for barine, it will be well to induce her to leave of her own free will a city where it will be made unpleasant for her. try to persuade her to pursue this course. if i went to her with such a suggestion, i, who yesterday--no, no! besides, she might hear that iras and i--she would imagine all sorts of absurdities. you know what jealousy means. to you, whom she esteems, she would surely listen, and she need not go far from the city. if the heart of this enthusiastic boy--who might some day desire to be 'king of kings' not only in name--should really be fired with love for barine, what serious misfortune might follow! we must secure her from him. she could not go to my country house among the papyrus plantations at sebennys. it would afford too much license for evil tongues. but you--your villa at kanopus is too near--but, if i am not mistaken, you have--" "my estate in the lake region is remote enough, and will be at her disposal," interrupted the other. "the house is always kept ready for my reception. i will do my best to persuade her, for your advice is prudent. she must be withdrawn from the boy's eyes." "i shall learn the result of your mission tomorrow," cried dion eagerly-- "nay, this evening. if she consents, i will tell iras, as if by accident, that barine has gone to upper egypt to drink new milk, or something of that kind. iras is a shrewd woman, and will be glad if she can keep aloof from such trifles during the time which will decide the fate of cleopatra and of the world." "my thoughts, too, are always with the army," said archibius. "how trivial everything else seems compared with the result which will be determined in the next few days! but life is made up of trifles. they are food, drink, maintenance. should the queen return triumphant, and find caesarion in wrong paths--" "we must close them against him," exclaimed dion. "that the boy may not follow barine?" asked archibius, shaking his head. "i think we need feel no anxiety on that score. he will doubtless eagerly desire to do so, but with him there is a wide gulf between the wish and its fulfilment. antyllus is differently constituted. he would be quite capable of ordering a horse to be saddled, or the sails of a boat to be spread in order to pursue her--beyond the cataract if necessary. so we must maintain the utmost secrecy concerning the place to which barine voluntarily exiles herself." "but she is not yet on her way," replied dion with a faint sigh. "she is bound to this city by many ties." "i know it," answered archibius, confirming his companion's fear. the latter, pointing to the equipage, said in a rapid, earnest tone: "gorgias is beckoning. but, before we part, let me beseech you to do everything to persuade barine to leave here. she is in serious danger. conceal nothing from her, and say that her friends will not leave her too long in solitude." archibius, with a significant glance, shook his finger at the young man in playful menace, and then went up to the carriage. caesarion's clear-cut but pallid face, whose every feature resembled that of his father, the great caesar, bent towards them from the opening above the door, as he greeted both with a formal bend of the head and a patronizing glance. his eyes had sparkled with boyish glee when he first caught sight of the friend from whom he had been separated several weeks, but to the stranger he wished to assume the bearing which beseemed a king. he desired to make him feel his superior position, for he was ill- disposed towards him. he had seen him favoured by the woman whom he imagined he loved, and whose possession he had been promised by the secret science of the egyptians, whose power to unveil the mysteries of the future he firmly believed. antyllus, antony's son, had taken him to barine, and she had received him with the consideration due his rank. spite of her bright graciousness, boyish timidity had hitherto prevented any word of love to the young beauty whom he saw surrounded by so many distinguished men of mature years. yet his beaming, expressive eyes must have revealed his feelings to her. doubtless his glances had not been unobserved, for only a few hours before an egyptian woman had stopped him at the temple of his father, caesar, to which, according to the fixed rules governing the routine of his life, he went daily at a certain hour to pray, to offer sacrifices, to anoint the stone of the altar, or to crown the statue of the departed emperor. caesarion had instantly recognized her as the female slave whom he had seen in barine's atrium, and ordered his train to fall back. fortunately his tutor, rhodon, had not fulfilled his duty of accompanying him. so the youth had ventured to follow the slave woman, and in the shadow of the mimosas, in the little grove beside the temple, he found barine's litter. his heart throbbed violently as, full of anxious expectation, he obeyed her signal to draw nearer. still, she had granted him nothing save the favour of gratifying one of her wishes. but his heart had swelled almost to bursting when, resting her beautiful white arm on the door of her litter, she had told him that unjust men were striving to rob her grandfather didymus of his garden, and she expected him, who bore the title of the "king of kings" to do his best to prevent such a crime. it had been difficult for him to grasp her meaning while she was speaking. there was a roaring sound in his ears as if, instead of being in the silent temple grove, he was standing on a stormy day upon the surf-beaten promontory of lochias. he had not ventured to raise his eyes and look into her face. not until she closed with the question whether she might hope for his assistance did her gaze constrain him to glance up. ah, what had he not fancied he read in her imploring blue eyes! how unspeakably beautiful she had appeared! he had stood before her as if bereft of his senses. his sole knowledge was that he had promised, with his hand on his heart, to do everything in his power to prevent what threatened to cause her pain. then her little hand, with its sparkling rings, was again stretched towards him, and he had resolved to kiss it; but while he glanced around at his train, she had already waved him a farewell, and the litter was borne away. he stood motionless, like the figure of a man on one of his mother's ancient vases, staring in bewilderment after the flying figure of happiness, whom he might easily have caught by her floating locks. how he raged over the miserable indecision which had defrauded him of so much joy! yet nothing was really lost. if he succeeded in fulfilling her wishes, she could not fail to be grateful; and then-- he pondered over the person to whom he should apply--mardion, the regent, or the keeper of the seal? no, they had planned the erection of the group of sculpture in the philosopher's garden. to iras, his mother's confidante? nay, last of all to her. the cunning woman would have perceived his purpose and betrayed it to the regent. ah, if charmian, his mother's other attendant, had been present! but she was with the fleet, which perhaps was even now engaged in battle with the enemy. at this recollection his eyes again sought the ground--he had not been permitted to take the place in the army to which his birth entitled him, while his mother and charmian--but he did not pursue this painful current of thought; for a serious reproach had forced itself upon him and sent the blood to his cheeks. he wished to be considered a man, and yet, in these fateful days, which would determine the destiny of his mother, his native city, egypt, and that rome which he, the only son of caesar, was taught to consider his heritage, he was visiting a beautiful woman, thinking of her, and of her alone. his days and half the nights were passed in forming plans for securing her love, forgetful of what should have occupied his whole heart. only yesterday iras had sharply admonished him that, in times like these, it was the duty of every friend of cleopatra, and every foe of her foes, to be with the army at least in mind. he had remembered this, but, instead of heeding the warning, the thought of her had merely recalled her uncle, archibius, who possessed great influence, not merely on account of his wealth but because every one also knew his high standing in the regard of the queen. besides, the clever, kindly man had always been friendly to him from childhood, and like a revelation came the idea of applying to him, and to the architect gorgias, who had a voice in the matter, and by whom he had been strongly attracted during the period while he was rebuilding the wing assigned to the prince in the palace at lochias. so one of the attendants was instantly despatched with the little tablet which invited gorgias to the interview at the temple of isis. then, in the afternoon, caesarion went secretly in a boat to the little palace of archibius, situated on the seashore at kanopus, and now as the latter, with his friend, stood beside the carriage door, he explained to them that he was going with the architect to old didymus to assure him of his assistance. this was unadvisable in every respect, but it required all the weight of the older man's reasons to induce the prince to yield. the consequences which might ensue, should the populace discover that he was taking sides against the regent, would be incalculable. but submission and withdrawal were especially difficult to the young "king of kings." he longed to pose as a man in dion's presence, and as this could not be, he strove to maintain the semblance of independence by yielding his resolve only on the plea of not desiring to injure the aged scholar and his granddaughter. finally, he again entreated the architect to secure didymus in the possession of his property. when at last he drove away with archibius, twilight was already gathering, torches were lighted in front of the temple and the little mausoleum adjoining the cella, and pitch-pans were blazing in the square. chapter iii. "the lad is in an evil plight," said gorgias, shaking his head thoughtfully as the equipage rolled over the stone pavement of the street of the king. "and over yonder, added dion," "the prospect is equally unpleasing. philostratus is setting the people crazy. but the hired mischief-maker will soon wish he had been less ready to seize iras's gold coins." "and to think," cried the architect, "that barine was this scoundrel's wife! how could it--" "she was but a child when they married her," interrupted dion. "who consults a girl of fifteen in the choice of a husband? and philostratus --he was my classmate at rhodus--at that time had the fairest prospects. his brother alexas, antony's favourite, could easily advance him. barine's father was dead, her mother was accustomed to follow didymus's counsel, and the clever fellow had managed to strew dust in the old man's eyes. long and lank as he is, he is not bad-looking even now. "when he appeared as an orator he pleased his hearers. this turned his head, and a spendthrift's blood runs in his veins. to bring his fair young bride to a stately mansion, he undertook the bad cause of the thievish tax-collector pyrrhus, and cleared him." "he bought a dozen false witnesses." "there were sixteen. afterwards they became as numerous as the open mouths you see shouting yonder. it is time to silence them. go to the old man's house and soothe him--barine also, if she is there. if you find messengers from the regent, raise objections to the unprecedented decree. you know the portions of the law which can be turned to didymus's advantage." "since the reign of euergetes ii, registered landed property has been unassailable, and his was recorded." "so much the better. tell the officials also, confidentially, that you know of objections just discovered which may perhaps change the regent's views." "and, above all, i shall insist upon my right to choose the place for the twin statues. the queen herself directed the others to heed my opinion." "that will cast the heaviest weight into the scale. we shall meet later. you will prefer to keep away from barine to-night. if you see her, tell her that archibius said he would visit her later--for an object i will explain afterwards. i shall probably go to iras to bring her to reason. it will be better not to mention caesarion's wish." "certainly--and you will give nothing to yonder brawler." "on the contrary. i feel very generous. if peitho will aid me, the insatiate fellow will get more than may be agreeable to him." then grasping the architect's hand, dion forced his way through the throng surrounding the high platform on wheels, upon which the closely covered piece of sculpture had been rolled up. the gate of the scholar's house stood open, for an officer in the regent's service had really entered a short time before, but the scythian guards sent by the exegetus demetrius, one of barine's friends, were keeping back the throng of curious spectators. their commander knew gorgias, and he was soon standing in the impluvium of the scholar's house, an oblong, rootless space, with a fountain in the centre, whose spray moistened the circular bed of flowers around it. the old slave had just lighted some three-branched lamps which burned on tall stands. the officers sent by the regent to inform didymus that his garden would be converted into a public square had just arrived. when gorgias entered, these magistrates, their clerks, and the witnesses accompanying them--a group of twenty men, at whose head was apollonius, a distinguished officer of the royal treasury--were in the house. the slave who admitted the architect informed him of it. in the atrium a young girl, doubtless a member of the household, stopped him. he was not mistaken in supposing that she was helena, didymus's younger granddaughter, of whom barine had spoken. true, she resembled her sister neither in face nor figure, for while the young matron's hair was fair and waving, the young girl's thick black tresses were wound around her head in a smooth braid. very unlike barine's voice, too, were the deep, earnest tones trembling with emotion, in which she confronted him with the brief question, concealing a faint reproach, "another demand?" after first ascertaining that he was really speaking to helena, his friend's sister, he hastily told her his name, adding that, on the contrary, he had come to protect her grandfather from a serious misfortune. when his glance first rested upon her in the dimly lighted room, the impression she made upon him was by no means favourable. the pure brow, which seemed to him too high for a woman's face, wore an indignant frown; and though her mouth was beautiful in form, its outlines were often marred by a passionate tremor that lent the exquisitely chiselled features a harsh, nay, bitter expression. but she had scarcely heard the motive of his presence ere, pressing her hand upon her bosom with a sigh of relief, she eagerly exclaimed: "oh, do what you can to avert this terrible deed! no one knows how the old man loves this house. and my grandmother! they will die if it is taken from them." her large eyes rested upon him with a warm, imploring light; and the stern, almost repellent voice thrilled with love for her relatives. he must lend his aid here, and how gladly he would do so! he assured her of this; and helena, who had heard him mentioned as a man of ability, saw in him a helper in need, and begged him, with touching fervour, to show her grandfather, when he came before the officers, that all was not lost. the astonished architect asked if didymus did not know what was impending, and helena hastily replied: "he is working in the summer-house by the sea. apollonius is a kind- hearted man, and will wait until i have prepared my grandfather. i must go to him. he has already sent philotas--his pupil, who finds and unrolls his books--a dozen times to inquire the cause of the tumult outside; but i replied that the crowds were flocking to the harbour on account of the queen. there is often a mob shouting madly; but nothing disturbs my grandfather when he is absorbed in his work; and his pupil --a young student from amphissa--loves him and does what i bid him. my grandmother, too, knows nothing yet. she is deaf, and the female slaves dare not tell her. after her recent attack of giddiness, the doctor said that any sudden shock might injure her. if only i can find the right words, that my grandfather may not be too sorely hurt!" "shall i accompany you?" asked gorgias kindly. "no," she answered hurriedly. "he needs time ere he will trust strangers. only, if apollonius discloses the terrible truth, and his grief threatens to overpower him, comfort him, and show him that we still have friends who are ready to protect us from such disaster." she waved her hand in token of gratitude, and hurried through the little side gate into the garden. gorgias looked after her with sparkling eyes, and drew a long breath. how good this girl must be, how wisely she cared for her relatives! how energetically the young creature behaved! he had seen his new acquaintance only in the dim light, but she must be beautiful. her eyes, lips, and hair certainly were. how his heart throbbed as he asked himself the question whether this young girl, who was endowed with every gift which constituted the true worth of womanhood, was not preferable to her more attractive sister barine!-- when the thought darted through his mind that he had cause to be grateful to the beard which covered his chin and cheeks, for he felt that he, a sedate, mature man, must have blushed. and he knew why. only half an hour before he had felt and admitted to dion that he considered barine the most desirable of women, and now another's image cast a deep shadow over hers and filled his heart with new, perhaps stronger emotions. he had had similar experiences only too often, and his friends, dion at their head, had perceived his weakness and spoiled many an hour for him by their biting jests. the series of tall and short, fair and dark beauties who had fired his fancy was indeed of considerable length, and every one on whom he had bestowed his quickly kindled affections had seemed to him the one woman he must make his own, if he would be a happy man. but ere he had reached the point of offering his hand, the question had arisen in his mind whether he might not love another still more ardently. so he had begun to persuade himself that his heart yearned for no individual, but the whole sex--at least the portion which was young and could feel love--and therefore he would scarcely be wise to bind himself to any one. true, he knew that he was capable of fidelity, for he clung to his friends with changeless loyalty, and was ready to make any sacrifice in their behalf. with women, however, he dealt differently. was helena's image, which now floated before him so bewitchingly, destined to fade as swiftly? the contrary would have been remarkable. yet he firmly believed that this time eros meant honestly by him. the laughing loves who twined their rose garlands around him and helena's predecessors had nothing to do with this grave maiden. these reflections darted through his brain with the speed of lightning, and still stirred his heart when he was ushered into the impluvium, where the magistrates were impatiently awaiting the owner of the house. with the lucidity peculiar to him, he explained his reasons for hoping that their errand would be vain, and apollonius replied that no one would rejoice more than he himself if the regent should authorize him, on the morrow, to countermand his mission. he would gladly wait there longer to afford the old man's granddaughter an opportunity to soften the tidings of the impending misfortune. the kind-hearted man's patience, however, was not tested too long; for when helena entered the summer-house didymus had already been informed of the disaster which threatened him and his family. the philosopher euphranor, an elderly member of the museum, had reached him through the garden gate, and, spite of philotas's warning sign, told him what was occurring. but didymus knew the old philosopher, who, a recluse from the world like himself, was devoting the remainder of his life and strength to the pursuit of science. so he only shook his head incredulously, pushed back the thin locks of grey hair which hung down on his cheeks over the barest part of his skull, and exclaimed reproachfully, though as if the matter under discussion was of the most trivial importance: "what have you been hearing? we'll see about it!" he had risen as he spoke, and too abruptly surprised by the news to remember the sandals on the mat and the upper robe which lay on a chest of drawers at the end of the room, he was in the act of quitting it, when his friend, who had silently watched his movements, stopped him, and helena entered. the grey-haired sage turned to her, and, vexed by his friend's doubts, begged her to convince her grandfather that even matters which do not please us may nevertheless be of some importance. she did so as considerately as possible, thinking meanwhile of the architect and his hopes. didymus, with his eyes bent on the ground, shook his grey head again and again. then, suddenly raising it, he rushed to the door, and without heeding the upper garment which helena still held in her hand, tore it open, shouting, "but things must and shall be changed!" euphranor and his granddaughter followed. though his head was bowed, he crossed the little garden with a swift, firm tread, and, without noticing the questions and warnings of his companions, walked at once to the impluvium. the bright light dazzled his weakened eyes, and his habit of gazing into vacancy or on the ground compelled him to glance from side to side for some time, ere he could accustom himself to it. apollonius approached, greeted him respectfully, and assured him that he deeply regretted having interrupted him in the work for which the whole world was waiting, but he had come on important business. "i know, i know," the old scholar answered with a smile of superiority. "what is all this ado about?" as he spoke he looked around the group of spectators, among whom he knew no one except apollonius, who had charge of the museum accounts, and the architect, for whom he had composed the inscription on the odeum, which he had recently built. but when his eyes met only unfamiliar faces, the confidence which hitherto had sustained him began to waver, though still convinced that a demand such as the philosopher suggested could not possibly be made upon him, he continued: "it is stated that there is a plan for turning my garden into a public square. and for what purpose? to erect a piece of sculpture. but there can be nothing serious in the rumour, for my property is recorded in the land register, and the law--" "pardon me," apollonius broke in, "if i interrupt you. we know the ordinance to which you refer, but this case is an exceptional one. the regent desires to take nothing from you. on the contrary, he offers, in the name of the queen, any compensation you yourself may fix for the piece of land which is to be honoured by the statues of the highest personages in the country--cleopatra and antony, hand in hand. the piece of sculpture has already been brought here. a work by the admirable artist lysander, who passed too early to the nether world, certainly will not disfigure your house. the little summer-house by the sea must be removed to-morrow, it is true; you know that our gracious queen may return any day-victorious if the immortals are just. this piece of sculpture, which is created in her honour, to afford her pleasure, must greet her on her arrival, so the regent send me to-day to communicate his wish, which, as he represents the queen--" "yet," interrupted the architect, who had again warmly assured the old man's granddaughter of his aid" yet your friends will endeavour to persuade the regent to find another place for the statues." "they are at liberty to do so," said the officer. "what will happen later the future will show. my office merely requires me to induce the worthy owner of this house and garden to submit to-day to the queen's command, which the regent and my own heart bid me clothe in the form of a request." during this conversation the old man had at first listened silently to the magistrate's words, gazing intently into his face. so it was true. the demand to yield up his garden, and even the little house, for fifty years the scene of his study and creative work, for the sake of a statue, would be made. since this had become a certainty, he had stood with his eyes fixed upon the ground. grief had paralyzed his tongue, and helena, who felt this, for the aged head seemed as if it were bending under a heavy burden, had drawn close to his side. the shouts and howls of the throng outside echoed through the open roof of the impluvium, but the old man did not seem to hear them, and did not even notice his granddaughter. yet, no sooner did he feel her touch than he hurriedly shrank away, flung back his drooping head, and gazed around the circle of intruders. the dull, questioning eyes of the old commentator and writer of many books now blazed with the hot fire of youthful passion and, like a wrestler who seeks the right grip, he measured apollonius and his companions with wrathful glances. the fragile recluse seemed transformed into a warrior ready for battle. his lips and the nostrils of his delicate nose quivered, and when apollonius began to say that it would be wise to remove the contents of the summer-house that day, as it would be torn down early the next morning, didymus raised his arms, exclaiming: "that will not be done. not a single roll shall be removed! they will find me at work as usual early to-morrow morning, and if it is still your wish to rob me of my property you must use violence to attain your purpose." calm yourself," replied apollonius. "every one beneath the moon must submit to a higher power; the gods bow to destiny, we mortals to the sovereign. you are a sage; i, merely mindful of the behests of duty, administer my office. but i know life, and if i may offer my counsel, you will accept what cannot be averted, and i will wager ten to one that you will have the best of it; that the queen will place in your hands means--" "sufficient to build a palace on the site of the little house of which i was robbed," didymus interrupted bitterly. then rage burst forth afresh "what do i care for your money? i want my rights, my good, guaranteed rights. i insist upon them, and whoever assails the ground which my grandfather and father bequeathed to me--" he hesitated, for the throng outside had burst into a loud shout of joy; and when it died away, and the old man began once more defiantly to claim his rights, he was interrupted by a woman's clear tones, addressing him with the greek greeting, "rejoice!"--a voice so gay and musical that it seemed to dispel the depression which rested like a grey fog on the whole company. while didymus was listening to the excited populace, and the new-comer was gazing at the old man whose rigid obstinacy could scarcely be conquered by kindness, the younger men were looking at the beautiful woman who joined them. her haste had flushed her cheeks, and from beneath the turquoise-blue kerchief that covered her fair locks a bewitching face smiled at her sister, the architect, and her grandfather. apollonius and many of his companions felt as if happiness in person had entered this imperilled house, and many an eye brightened when the infuriated old man exclaimed in an altered tone, "you here, barine?" and she, without heeding the presence of the others, kissed his cheek with tender affection. helena, gorgias, and the old philosopher euphranor, had approached her, and when the latter asked with loving reproach, "why, barine, how did you get through the howling mob?" she answered gaily: "that a learned member of the museum may receive me with the query whether i am here, though from childhood a kind or--what do you think, grandfather?--a malign fate has preserved me from being overlooked, and some one else reprovingly asks how i passed through the shouting mob, as if it were a crime to wade into the water to hold out a helping hand to those we love best when it is up to their chins! but, oh! dear, this howling is too hideous!" while speaking, she pressed her little hands on the part of the kerchief which concealed her ears, and said no more until the noise subsided, although she declared that she was in a hurry, and had only come to learn how matters were. meanwhile it seemed as if she was so full of quick, pulsing life, that it was impossible to leave even a moment unused, if it were merely to bestow or answer a friendly glance. the architect and her sister were obliged to return hurried answers to hasty questions; and as soon as she ascertained what had brought the strangers there she thanked apollonius, and said that old friends would do their best to spare her grandfather such a sorrow. in reply to repeated inquiries from the two old men in regard to her arrival there, she answered: "nobody will believe it, because in this hurry i could not keep my mouth shut; but i acted like a mute fish and reached the water." then, drawing her grandfather aside, she whispered to him that, when she left her boat at the harbour, archibius had seen her from his carriage, and instantly stopped it to inform her of his intended visit that evening. he was coming to discuss an important matter. therefore she must receive the worthy man, whom she sincerely liked, so she could not stay. then turning to the others still with her kerchief on her head ready for departure--she asked what the people meant by their outcries. the architect replied that philostratus had endeavoured to make the crowd believe that the only appropriate site for the statues of which she had heard was her grandfather's garden, and he thought he knew in whose behalf the fellow was acting. "certainly not in the regent's," said apollonius, in a tone of sincere conviction; but barine, over whose sunny brow a shadow had flitted when gorgias uttered the orator's name, assented with a slight bend of the head, and then whispered hurriedly, yet earnestly, that she would answer for the old man's allowing himself to be persuaded, if he had only time to collect his thoughts. the next morning, when the market was crowded, the officer might commence his negotiations afresh, if the regent insisted on his plan. meanwhile she would do her best to persuade her grandfather to yield, though he was not exactly one of the class who are easily guided. apollonius might remind the regent that it would be advisable at this time to avoid a public scandal, to remember didymus's age, and the validity of his claim. while apollonius was talking with his companions, barine beckoned to the architect, and hastily took leave of the others, protesting that she was in no danger, since she would slip away again like a fish, only this time she would use her tongue, and hoped by its means to win to the support of didymus's just cause a man who would already have ended all the trouble had the queen only been in alexandria. until now the eyes and ears of the whole company had been fixed upon barine. no one had desired anything better than to gaze at and listen to her. not until she had quitted the room with gorgias did the officials discuss the matter together, and soon after apollonius went away with his companions, to hold another conference with the regent about this unpleasant business. this time the architect had followed the young beauty with very mingled feelings. only an hour before he would have rejoiced to be permitted to accompany and protect barine; now he would have gladly remained with her sister, who had returned his farewell greeting so gratefully and yet with such maidenly modesty. but even the most vacillating man cannot change one fancy for another as he would replace a black piece on the draughtboard with a white one, and he still found it delightful to be so near barine. only the thought that helena might believe that he stood on very intimate terms with her sister had darted with a disquieting influence through his brain when the latter invited him to accompany her. in the garden barine begged him, before they went to the landing-place where the boat was moored, to help her ascend the narrow flight of steps leading to the flat roof of the gatekeeper's little house. here they could watch unseen the tumult in the square below, for it was surrounded by dense laurel bushes. bright flames were blazing in the pitch-pans before the two temples at the side of the corner of the muses, and their light was increased by the torches held in the hands of scythians. yet no individuals could be distinguished in the throng. the marble walls of the temples shimmered, the statues at didymus's gate, and the hermae along the street of the king which passed the threatened house and connected the north of the corner of the muses with the sea-shore, loomed from the darkness in the brilliancy of the reflected light, but the smoke of the torches darkened the sky and dimmed the starlight. the only persons distinctly visible were dion, who had stationed himself on the lofty framework of the platform on which the muffled statues had been drawn hither, and the attorney philostratus, who stood on the pedestal of one of the dolphins which surrounded the fountain between the temple of isis and the street. the space, a dozen paces wide, which divided them, permitted the antagonists to understand each other, and the attention of the whole throng was fixed upon the wranglers. these verbal battles were one of the greatest pleasures of the alexandrians, and they greeted every clever turn of speech with shouts of applause, every word which displeased them with groans, hisses, and cat-calls. barine could see and hear what was passing below. she had pushed aside the foliage of the laurel bushes which concealed her, and, with her hand raised to her ear, stood listening to the two disputants. when the scoundrel whom she had called husband, and for whom her contempt had become too deep for hate, sneeringly assailed her family as having been fed from generation to generation from the corn-bin of the museum, she bit her lips. but they soon curled, as if what she heard aroused her disgust, for the speaker now turned to dion and accused him of preventing the kindly disposed regent from increasing the renown of the great queen and affording her noble heart a pleasure. "my tongue," he cried, "is the tool which supports me. why am i using it here till it is weary and almost paralyzed? in honour of cleopatra, our illustrious queen, and her generous friend, to whom we all owe a debt of gratitude. let all who love her and the divine antony, the new herakles and dionysus--both will soon make their entry among us crowned with the laurels of victory--join the regent and every well-disposed person in seizing yonder bit of land so meanly withheld by base avarice and a sentiment--a sentiment, do you hear?--which i do not name more plainly, simply because wickedness is repulsive to me, and i do not stand here as an accuser. whoever upholds the word-monger who spouts forth books as the dolphin at my side does water, may do so. i shall not envy him. but first look at didymus's ally and panegyrist. there he stands opposite to me. it would have been better for him had the dolphin at his feet taught him silence. then he might have remained in the obscurity which befits him. "but whether willing or not, i must drag him forth, and i will show you dion, fellow-citizens, though i would far rather have you see things which arouse less ire. the dim light prevents your distinguishing the colour of his robe, but i know it, for i saw it in the glare of day. it is hyacinthine purple. you know what that costs. it would support the wives and children of many among you for ten long years. 'how heavy must be the purse which can expose such a treasure to sun and rain!' is the thought of every one who sees him strutting about as proudly as a peacock. and his purse is loaded with many talents. only it is a pity that, day after day, most of you must give your children a little less bread and deprive yourselves of many a draught of wine to deck him out so bravely. his father, eumenes, was a tax-collector, and what the leech extorted from you and your children, the son now uses to drive, clad in hyacinthine purple, a four-horse chariot, which splashes the mire from the street into your faces as it rolls onward. by the dog! the gentleman does not weigh so very much, yet he needs four horses to drag him. and, fellow-citizens, do you know why? i'll tell you. he's afraid of sticking fast everywhere, even in his speech." here philostratus lowered his voice, for the phrase "sticking fast" had drawn a laugh from some of his hearers; but dion, whose father had really amassed, in the high position of a receiver of taxes, the handsome fortune which his son possessed, did not delay his reply. "yes, yes," he retorted scornfully, "yonder syrian babbler hit the mark this time. he stands before me, and who does not easily stick fast when marsh and mire are so near? as for the hyacinthine purple cloak, i wear it because i like it. his crocus-yellow one is less to my taste, though he certainly looks fine enough in it in the sunlight. it shines like a buttercup in the grass. you know the plant. when it fades--and i ask whether you think philostratus looks like a bud--when it fades, it leaves a hollow spiral ball which a child's breath could blow away. suppose in future we should call the round buttercup seed-vessels 'philostratus heads'? you like the suggestion? i am glad, fellow-citizens, and i thank you. it proves your good taste. then we will stick to the comparison. every head contains a tongue, and philostratus says that his is the tool which supports him." "hear the money-bag, the despiser of the people!" interrupted philostratus furiously. "the honest toil by which a citizen earns a livelihood is a disgrace in his eyes." "honest toil, my good friend," replied dion, "is scarcely in question here. i spoke only of your tongue.--you understand me, fellow-citizens. or, if any of you are not yet acquainted with this worthy man, i will show him to you, for i know him well. he is my foe, yet i can sincerely recommend him to many of you. if any one has a very bad, shamefully corrupt cause to bring before the courts, i most earnestly counsel him to apply to the buttercup man perched on yonder fountain. he will thank me for it. believe me, didymus's cause is just, precisely because this advocate so eagerly assails it. i told you just now the matter under discussion. which of you who owns a garden can say in future, 'it is mine,' if, during the absence of the queen, it is allowable to take it away to be used for any other purpose? but this is what threatens didymus. if this is to be the custom here, let every one beware of sowing a radish or planting a bush or a tree, for should the wife of some great noble desire to dry her linen there, he may be deprived of it ere the former can ripen or the latter give shade." loud applause followed this sentence, but philostratus shouted in a voice that echoed far and wide: "hear me, fellow-citizens; do not allow your selves to be deceived! no one is to be robbed here. the project is to purchase, at a high price, the spot which the city needs for her adornment, and to honour and please the queen. are the regent and the citizens to lose this opportunity of expressing the gratitude of years, and the rejoicing over the greatest of victories, of which we shall soon hear, because an evil-disposed person--the word must be uttered--a foe to his country, opposes it?" "now the mire is coming too near me," dion angrily responded, "and i might really stick fast, as i was warned; for i do not envy the ready presence of mind of any person whose tongue would not falter when the basest slander scattered its venom over him. you all know, fellow- citizens, through how many generations the didymus family has lived to the honour of this city, doing praiseworthy work in yonder house. you know that the good old man who dwells there was one of the teachers of the royal children." "and yet," cried philostratus, "only the day before yesterday he walked arm in arm in the paneum garden with arius, the tutor of octavianus, our own and our queen's most hated foe. in my presence, and before i know not how many others, didymus distinguished this arius as his most beloved pupil." "to give you that title," retorted dion, "would certainly fill any teacher with shame and anger, no matter how far you had surpassed him in wisdom and knowledge. nay, had you been committed to the care of the herring dealers, instead of the rhetoricians, every honest man among them would disown you, for they sell only good wares for good money, while you give the poorest in exchange for glittering gold. this time you trample under foot the fair name of an honourable man. but i will not suffer it; and you hear, fellow-citizens, i now challenge this syrian to prove that didymus ever betrayed his native land, or i will brand him in your presence a base slanderer, an infamous, venal destroyer of character!" "an insult from such lips is easily borne," replied philostratus in a tone of scornful superiority; but there was a pause ere he again turned to the listening throng, and with all the warmth he could throw into his voice continued: "what do i desire, then, fellow-citizens? what is the sole object of my words? i stand here with clean hands, impelled solely by the impulse of my heart, to plead for the queen. in order to secure the only suitable site for the statues to be erected to cleopatra's honour and fame, i enter into judgment with her foes, expose myself to the insult with which boastful insolence is permitted to vent its wrath upon me. but i am not dismayed, though, in pursuing this course, i am acting against the law of nature; for the infamous man against whom i raise my voice was my teacher, too, and ere he turned from the path of right and virtue--under influences which i will not mention here--he numbered me also, in the presence of many witnesses, among his best pupils. i was certainly one of the most grateful--i chose his granddaughter--the truth must be spoken--for my wife. the possession--" "possession!" interrupted dion in a loud, excited tone. "the corpse cast ashore by the waves might as well boast possession of the sea!" the dim torchlight was sufficient to reveal philostratus's pallor to the bystanders. for a moment the orator seemed to lose his self-control, but he quickly recovered himself, and shouted: "fellow-citizens, dear friends! i was about to make you witnesses of the misery which a woman, whose wickedness is even greater than her beauty, brought upon an inexperienced--" but he went no further; for his hearers--many of whom knew the brilliant, generous dion, and barine, the fair singer at the last adonis festival-- gave the orator tokens of their indignation, which were all the more pitiless because of the pleasure they felt in seeing an expert vanquished by an untrained foe. the wordy war would not have ended so quickly, however, had not restlessness and alarm taken possession of the crowd. the shout, "back! disperse!" ran through the multitude, and directly after the trampling of hoofs and the commands of the leader of a troop of libyan cavalry were heard. the matter at stake was not sufficiently important to induce the populace to offer an armed force resistance which might have entailed serious danger. besides, the blustering war of tongues had reached a merry close, and loud laughter blended with the shouts of fear and warning; for the surging throng had swept with unexpected speed towards the fountain and plunged philostratus into the basin. whether this was due to the wrath of some enemy, or to mere accident, could not be learned; the vain efforts of the luckless man to crawl out of the water up the smooth marble were so comical, and his gestures, after helping hands had dragged him dripping upon the pavement of the square, were so irresistibly funny, that more laughing than angry voices were heard, especially when some one cried, "his hands were soiled by blackening didymus, so the washing will do him good." "some wise physicians flung him into the water," retorted an other; "he needed the cold application after the blows dion dealt him." the regent, who had sent the troop of horsemen to drive the crowd away from didymus's house, might well be pleased that the violent measure encountered so little resistance. the throng quickly scattered, and was speedily attracted by something new at the theatre of dionysus--the zither-player anaxenor had just announced from its steps that cleopatra and antony had won the most brilliant victory, and had sung to the accompaniment of his lute a hymn which had deeply stirred all hearts. he had composed it long before, and seized the first opportunity--the report had reached his ears while breakfasting in kanopus--to try its effect. as soon as the square began to empty, barine left her post of observation. it was long since her heart had throbbed so violently. not one of the many suitors for her favour had been so dear to her as dion; but she now felt that she loved him. what he had just done for her and her grandfather was worthy of the deepest gratitude; it proved that he did not come to her house, like most of her guests, merely to while away the evening hours. it had been no small matter for the young aristocrat, in the presence of the whole multitude, to enter into a debate with the infamous philostratus, and how well he had succeeded in silencing the dreaded orator! besides, dion had even taken her part against his own powerful uncle, and perhaps by his deed drawn upon himself the hostility of his enemy's brother, alexas, antony's powerful favourite. barine might assure herself that he, who was the peer of any macedonian noble in the city, would have done this for no one else. she felt as if the act had ransomed her. when, after an unhappy marriage and many desolate days, she had regained her former bright cheerfulness and saw her house become the centre of the intellectual life of the city, she had striven until now to extend the same welcome to all her guests. she had perceived that she ought not to give any one the power over her which is possessed by the man who knows that he is beloved, and even to dion she had granted little more than to the others. but now she saw plainly that she would resign the pleasure of being a universally admired woman, whose modest home attracted the most distinguished men in the city, for the far greater happiness which would be hers as dion's beloved wife. with him, cherished by his love, she believed that she could find far greater joy in solitude than in the gay course of her present life. she knew now what she must do if dion sought her, and the architect, for the first time, found her a silent companion. he had willingly accompanied her back to her grandfather's house, where he had again met her sister helena, while she had quitted it disappointed, because her brave defender had not returned there. after the interruption of the debate dion had been in a very cheerful mood. the pleasant sensation of having championed a good cause, and the delightful consciousness of success were not new to him, but he had rarely felt so uplifted as now. he most ardently longed for his next meeting with barine, and imagined how he would describe what had happened and claim her gratitude for his friendly service. the scene had risen clearly before his mind, but scarcely had the radiant vision of the future faded when the unusually bright expression of his manly face was clouded by a grave and troubled one. the darkness of the night, illumined only by the flare of the pitch-pans, had surrounded him, yet it had seemed as if he were standing with barine in the full light of noon in the blossoming garden of his own palace, and, after asking a reward for his sturdy championship, she had clung to him with deep emotion, and he had passionately kissed her tearful face. the face had quickly vanished, yet it had been as distinct as the most vivid picture in a dream. was barine more to him than he supposed? had he not been drawn to her, during the past few months, by the mere charm of her pliant intellect and her bright beauty? had a new, strong passion awakened within him? was he in danger of seeing the will which urged him to preserve his freedom conquered? had he cause to fear that some day, constrained by a mysterious, invincible power, in defiance of the opposition of calm reason, he might perhaps bind himself for life to this barine, the woman who had once been the wife of a philostratus, and who bestowed her smiles on all who found admittance to her house seeking a feast for the eye, a banquet for the ear, a pleasant entertainment? though her honor was as stainless as the breast of a swan--and he had no reason to doubt it--she would still be classed with aspasia and other women whose guests sought more than songs and agreeable conversations. the gifts with which the gods had so lavishly endowed her had already been shared with too many to permit him, the last scion of a noble macedonian house, to think of leading her, as mistress, to the palace whose erection he had so carefully and successfully planned with gorgias. surely it lacked nothing save the gracious rule of a mistress. but if she should consent to become his without the blessing of hymen? no. he could not thus dishonor the granddaughter of didymus, the man who had been his father's revered teacher, a woman whom he had always rejoiced that, spite of the gay freedom with which she received so many admirers, he could still esteem. he would not do so, though his friends would have greeted such scruples with a smile of superiority. who revered the sacredness of marriage in a city whose queen was openly living for the second time with the husband of another? dion himself had formed many a brief connection, but for that very reason he could not place a woman like barine on the same footing with those whose love he had perhaps owed solely to his wealth. he had never lacked courage and resolution, but he felt that this time he would have to resist a power with which he had never coped. that accursed face! again and again it rose before his mental vision, smiling and beckoning so sweetly that the day must come when the yearning to realize the dream would conquer all opposition. if he remained near her he would inevitably do what he might afterwards regret, and therefore he would fain have offered a sacrifice to peitho to induce her to enhance archibius's powers of persuasion and induce barine to leave alexandria. it would be hard for him to part from her, yet much would be gained if she went into the country. between the present and the distant period of a second meeting lay respite from peril, and perhaps the possibility of victory. dion did not recognize himself. he seemed as unstable as a swaying reed, because he had conquered his wish to re-enter old didymus's house and encourage him, and passed on to his own home. but he would probably have found barine still with her grandfather, and he would not meet her, though every fibre of his being longed for her face, her voice, and a word of gratitude from her beloved lips. instead of joy, he was filled with the sense of dissatisfaction which overpowers a man standing at a crossing in the roads, who sees before him three goals, yet can be fully content with neither. the street of the king, along which he suffered himself to be carried by the excited throng, ran between the sea and the theatre of dionysus. the thought darted through his mind that his friend the architect desired to erect the luckless statues of the royal lovers in front of this stately building. he would divert his thoughts by examining the site which gorgias had chosen. the zither-player finished his hymn just as dion approached the theatre, and the crowd began to disperse. every one was full of the joyful tidings of victory, and one shouted to another what anaxenor, the favourite of the great antony, who must surely know, had just recited in thrilling verse. many a joyous io and loud evoe to cleopatra, the new isis, and antony, the new dionysus, resounded through the air, while bearded and smooth, delicate greek and thick egyptian lips joined in the shout, "to the sebasteum!" this was the royal palace, which faced the government building containing the regent's residence. the populace desired to have the delightful news confirmed, and to express, by a public demonstration, the grateful joy which filled every heart. dion, too, was eager to obtain certainty, and, though usually averse to mingling with the populace during such noisy outbursts of feeling, he was preparing to follow the crowd thronging towards the sebasteum, when the shouts of runners clearing a passage for a closed litter fell upon his ear. it was occupied by iras, the queen's trusted attendant. if any one could give accurate information, it was she; yet it would hardly be possible to gain an opportunity of conversing with her in this throng. but iras must have had a different opinion; she had seen dion, and now called him to her side. there were hoarse tones in her voice, usually so clear and musical, which betrayed the emotion raging in her breast as she assailed the young macedonian noble with a flood of questions. without giving him the usual greeting, she hastily desired to know what was exciting the people, who had brought the tidings of victory, and whither the multitude was flocking? dion had found it difficult not to be forced from the litter while answering. iris perceived this, and as they were just passing the maeander, the labyrinth, which was closed after sunset, she ordered her bearers to carry the litter to the entrance, made herself known to the watchman, ordered the outer court to be opened, the litter to be placed there, and the bearers and runners to wait outside for her summons, which would soon be given. this unusual haste and excitement filled dion with just solicitude. she refused his invitation to alight and walk up and down, declaring that life offered so many labyrinths that one need not seek them. he, too, seemed to be following paths which were scarcely straight ones. "why," she concluded, thrusting her head far out of the opening in the litter, "are you rendering it so difficult for the regent and your own uncle to execute their plans, making common cause with the populace, like a paid agitator?" "like philostratus, you mean, on whom i bestowed a few blows in addition to the golden guerdon received from your hand?" "ay, like him, for aught i care. probably it was you, too, who had him flung into the water, after you had vented your wrath on him? you managed your cause well. what we do for love's sake is usually successful. no matter, if only his brother alexas does not rouse antony against you. for my part, i merely desire to know why and for whom all this was done." "for whom save the good old man who was my father's preceptor, and his just claim?" replied dion frankly. "moreover--for no site more unsuitable could be found than his garden-in behalf of good taste." iras laughed a shrill, short laugh, and her narrow, regularly formed face, which might have been called beautiful, had not the bridge of the straight delicate nose been too long and the chin too small, darkened slightly, as she exclaimed, "that is frank at least." "you ought to be accustomed to that from me," replied dion calmly. "in this case, however, the expert, gorgias, fully shares my opinion." "i heard that too. you are both the most constant visitors of--what is the woman's name?--the bewitching barine." "barine?" repeated dion, as if the mention of the name surprised him. "you take care, my friend, that our conversation does honour to its scene, the labyrinth. i speak of works of the sculptor's art, and you pretend that i am referring to what is most certainly a very successful living work from the creative hands of the gods. i was very far from thinking of the granddaughter of the old scholar for whom i interceded." "ay," she scornfully retorted, "young gentlemen in your position, and with your habits of life, always think of their fathers estimable teachers rather than of the women who, ever since pandora opened her box, have brought all sorts of misfortunes into the world. but," she added, pushing back her dark locks from her high forehead, "i don't understand myself, how, with the mountain of care that now burdens my soul, i can waste even a single word upon such trifles. i care as little for the aged scholar as i do for his legion of commentaries and books, though they are not wholly unfamiliar to me. for any concern of mine he might have as many grandchildren as there are evil tongues in alexandria, were it not that just at this time it is of the utmost importance to remove everything which might cast a shadow on the queen's pathway. i have just come from the palace of the royal children at lochias, and what i learned there. but that--i will not, i cannot believe it. it fairly stifles me!" "have you received bad news from the fleet?" questioned dion, with sincere anxiety; but she only bent her head in assent, laying her fan of ostrich-plumes on her lips to enjoin silence, at the same time shivering so violently that he perceived it, even in the dusk. it was evident that speech was difficult, as she added in a muffled tone: "it must be kept secret--rhodian sailors--thank the gods, it is still very doubtful--it cannot, must not be true--and yet-the prattle of that zither-player, which has filled the multitude with joyous anticipation, is abominable-- the great ones of the earth are often most sorely injured by those who owe them the most gratitude. i know you can be silent, dion. you could as a boy, if anything was to be hidden from our parents. would you still be ready to plunge into the water for me, as in those days? scarcely. yet you may be trusted, and, even in this labyrinth, i will do so. my heart is heavy. but not one word to any person. i need no confidant and could maintain silence even towards you, but i am anxious that you should understand me, you who have just taken such a stand. before i entered my litter at lochias, the boy returned, and i talked with him." "young caesarion loves barine," replied dion with grave earnestness. "then this horrible folly is known?" asked iras excitedly. "a passion far deeper than i should ever have expected this dreamer to feel has taken possession of him. and if the queen should now return--perhaps less successful than we desire--if she looks to those from whom she still expects pleasure, satisfaction, lofty deeds, and learns what has befallen the boy--for what does not that sun-bright intellect learn and perceive? he is dear to her, dearer than any of you imagine. how it will increase her anxiety, perhaps her suffering! with what good reason she will be angered against those whom duty and love should have commanded to guard the boy!" "and therefore," added dion, "the stone of offence must be removed. your first step to secure this object was the attack on didymus." he had judged correctly and perceived that, in her assault upon the old scholar, she had at first intended to play into the hands of the rulers, work against the old philosopher and his relatives, among whose number was barine; for the egyptian law permitted the relatives of those who were convicted of any crime against the sovereign or the government to be banished with the criminal. this attack upon an innocent person was disgraceful, yet every word iras uttered made dion feel, every feature of her face betrayed, that it was not merely base jealousy, but a nobler emotion, that caused her to assail the guiltless sage--love for her mistress, the desire which dominated her whole being to guard cleopatra from grief and trouble in these trying times. he knew iras's iron will and the want of consideration with which she had learned to pursue her purpose at the court. his first object was to protect barine from the danger which threatened her; but he also wished to relieve the anxiety of iras, the daughter of krates, his father's neighbour, with whom he had played in boyhood and for whom he had never ceased to feel a tender interest. his remark surprised her. she saw that her plot was detected by the man whose esteem she most valued, and a loving woman is glad to recognize the superiority of her lover. besides, from her earliest childhood--and she was only two years younger than dion--she had belonged to circles where no quality was more highly prized than mental pliancy and keenness. her dark eyes, which at first had glittered distrustfully and questioningly and afterwards glowed with a gloomy light, now gained a new expression. her gaze sought her friend's with a tender, pleading look as, admitting his charge, she began: "yes! dion, the philosopher's granddaughter must not stay here. or do you see any other way to protect the unhappy boy from incalculable misfortune? you know me well enough to be aware that, like you, i am reluctant to infringe another's rights, that except in case of necessity i am not cruel. i value your esteem. no one is more truthful, and yesterday you averred that eros had no part in your visits to the much-admired young woman, that you joined her guests merely because the society you found at her house afforded a pleasant stimulus to the mind. i have ceased to believe in many things, but not in you and your words, and if hearing that you had taken sides with the grandfather, i fancied that you were secretly seeking the thanks and gratitude of the granddaughter, why--surely the atrocious maxim that zeus does not hear the vows of lovers comes from you men--why, suspicion again reared its head. now you seem to share my opinion--" "like you," dion interrupted, "i believe that barine ought to be withdrawn from the boy's pursuit, which cannot be more unpleasant to you than to her. as caesarion neither can nor ought to leave alexandria while affairs are so threatening, nothing is left except to remove the young woman--but, of course, in all kindness." "in a golden chariot, garlanded with roses, if you so desire," cried iras eagerly. "that might attract attention," answered dion, smiling and raising his hand as if to enjoin moderation. "your mode of action does not please me, even now that i know its purpose, but i will gladly aid you to attain your object. your crooked paths also lead to the goal, and perhaps one is less likely to stumble in them; but straight ways suit me better, and i think i have already found the right one. a friend will invite barine to an estate far away from here, perhaps in the lake regions." "you?" cried iras, her narrow eyebrows suddenly contracting. "do you imagine that she would go with me?" he asked, in a faintly reproachful tone. "no. fortunately, we have older friends, and at their head is one who happens to be your uncle and at the same time is wax in the hands of the queen." "archibius?" exclaimed iras. "ah! if he could persuade her to do so!" "he will try. he, too, is anxious about the lad. while we are talking here, he is inviting barine to his estate. the country air will benefit her." "may she bloom there like a young shepherdess!" "you are right to wish her the best fortune; for if the queen does not return victorious, the irritability of our alexandrians will be doubled. when you laid hands on didymus's garden, you were so busily engaged in building the triumphal arch that you forgot--" "who would have doubted the successful issue of this war?" cried iras. "and they will, they will conquer. the rhodian said that the fleet was scattered. the disaster happened on the acharnanian coast. how positive it sounded! but he had it only at second and third hand. and what are mere rumours? the source of the false tidings is discovered later. besides, even if the naval battle were really lost, the powerful army, which is far superior to octavianus's forces, still remains. which of the enemy's generals could cope with antony on the land? how he will fight when all is at stake-fame, honour, sovereignty, hate, and love! away with this fear, based on mere rumour! after dyrrachium caesar's cause was deemed lost, and how soon pharsalus made him master of the world! is it worthy of a sensible person to suffer courage to be depressed by a sailor's gossip? and yet--yet! it began while i was ill. and then the swallows on the antonias, the admiral's ship. we have already spoken of it. mardiou and your uncle zeno saw with their own eyes the strange swallows drive away those which had built their nest on the helm of the antonias, and kill the young ones with their cruel beaks. an evil omen! "i cannot forget it. and my dream, while i lay ill with fever far away from my mistress! but i have already lingered here too long. no, dion, no. i am grateful for the rest here--i can now feel at ease about caesarion. place the monument where you choose. the people shall see and hear that we respect their opposition, that we are just and friendly. help me to turn this matter to the advantage of the queen, and if archibius succeeds in getting barine away and keeping her in the country, then--if i had aught that seemed to you desirable it should be yours. but what does the petted dion care for his fading playfellow?" "fading?" he repeated in a tone of indignant reproach. "say rather the fully developed flower has learned from her royal friend the secret of eternal youth." with a swift impulse of gratitude iras bent her face towards him in the dusk, extending the slender white hand--next to cleopatra's famed as the most beautiful at court--for him to kiss, but when he merely pressed his lips lightly on it with no shadow of tenderness, she hastily withdrew it, exclaiming as if overwhelmed by sudden repentance: "this idle, hollow dalliance at such a time, with such a burden of anxiety oppressing the heart! it is un worthy, shameful! if barine goes with archibius, her time will scarcely hang heavy on his estates. i think i know some one who will speedily follow to bear her company.--here, sasis! the bearers! to the tower of nilus, before the gate of the sun!" dion gazed after her litter a short time, then passed his hand through his waving brown hair, walked swiftly to the shore and, without pausing long to choose, sprang into one of the boats which were rented for pleasure voyages. ordering the sailors who were preparing to accompany him to remain on shore, he stretched the sail with a practised hand, and ran out towards the mouth of the harbour. he needed some strong excitement, and wished to go himself in search of news. etext editor's bookmarks: contempt had become too deep for hate jealousy has a thousand eyes zeus does not hear the vows of lovers this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] cleopatra by georg ebers volume . chapter xiii. during these hours of rest iras and charmian had watched in turn beside cleopatra. when she rose, the younger attendant rendered her the necessary services. she was to devote herself to her mistress until the evening; for her companion, who now stood in her way, was not to return earlier. before charmian left, she had seen that her apartments--in which barine, since the queen had placed her in her charge, had been a welcome guest--were carefully watched. the commander of the macedonian guard, who years before had vainly sought her favour, and finally had become the most loyal of her friends, had promised to keep them closely. yet iras knew how to profit by her mistress's sleep and the absence of her aunt. she had learned that she would be shut out of her apartments, and therefore from barine also. ere any step could be taken against the prisoner, she must first arrange the necessary preliminaries with alexas. the failure of her expectation of seeing her rival trampled in the dust had transformed her jealous resentment into hatred, and though she was her niece, she even transferred a portion of it to charmian, who had placed herself between her and her victim. she had sent for the syrian, but he, too, had gone to rest at a late hour and kept her waiting a long time. the reception which the impatient girl bestowed was therefore by no means cordial, but her manner soon grew more friendly. first alexas boasted of having induced the queen to commit barine's fate to him. if he should try her at noon and find her guilty, there was nothing to prevent him from compelling her to drink the poisoned cup or having her strangled before evening. but the matter would be dangerous, because the singer's friends were numerous and by no means powerless. yet, in the depths of her heart, cleopatra desired nothing more ardently than to rid herself of her dangerous rival. but he knew the great ones of the earth. if he acted energetically and brought matters to a speedy close, the queen, to avoid evil gossip, would burden him with her own act. antony's mood could not be predicted, and the syrian's weal or woe depended on his favour. besides, the execution of the singer at the last adonis festival might have a dangerous effect upon the people of alexandria. they were already greatly excited, and his brother, who knew them, said that some were overwhelmed with sorrow, and others ready, in their fury, to rise in a bloody rebellion. everything was to be feared from this rabble, but philostratus understood how to persuade them to many things, and alexas had just secured his aid. alexas had really succeeded in the work of reconciliation. during the orator's married life with barine she had forbidden her brother-in-law the house, and her husband had quarrelled with the brother who sought his wife. but after the latter had risen to a high place in antony's favour, and been loaded with gold by his lavish hand, philostratus had again approached him to claim his share of the new wealth. and the source from which alexas drew flowed so abundantly that his favourite did not find it difficult to give. both men were as unprincipled as they were lavish, and experience taught them that base natures always have at their disposal a plank with which to bridge chasms. if it is of gold, it will be crossed the more speedily. such was the case here, and of late it had become specially firm; for each needed the other's aid. alexas loved barine, while philostratus no longer cared for her. on the other hand, he hated dion with so ardent a thirst for revenge that, to obtain it, he would have resigned even the hope of fresh gains. the humiliation inflicted upon him by the arrogant macedonian noble, and the derision which through his efforts had been heaped upon him, haunted him like importunate pursuers; and he felt that he could only rid himself of them with the source of his disgrace. without his brother's aid, he would have been content to assail dion with his slandering tongue; with his powerful assistance he could inflict a heavier injury upon him, perhaps even rob him of liberty and life. they had just made an agreement by which philostratus pledged himself to reconcile the populace to any punishment that might be inflicted upon barine, and alexas promised to help his brother take a bloody vengeance upon dion the macedonian. barine's death could be of no service to alexas. the sight of her beauty had fired his heart a second time, and he was resolved to make her his own. in the dungeon, perhaps by torture, she should be forced to grasp his helping hand. all this would permit no delay. everything must be done before the return of antony, who was daily expected. alexas's lavish patron had made him so rich that he could bear to lose his favour for the sake of this object. even without it, he could maintain a household with royal magnificence in some city of his syrian home. on receiving the favourite's assurance that he would remove barine from charmian's protection on the morrow, iras became more gracious. she could make no serious objection to his statement that the new trial might not, it is true, end in a sentence of death, but the verdict would probably be transportation to the mines, or something of the sort. then alexas cautiously tested iras's feelings towards his brother's mortal foe. they were hostile; yet when the favourite intimated that he, too, ought to be given up to justice, she showed so much hesitation, that alexas stopped abruptly and turned the conversation upon barine. here she promised assistance with her former eager zeal, and it was settled that the arrest should be made the following morning during the hours of charmian's attendance upon the queen. iras had valuable counsel to offer. she was familiar with one of the prisons, whose doors she had opened to many a hapless mortal whose disappearance, in her opinion, might be of service to the queen. she had deemed it a duty, aided by the keeper of the seal, to anticipate her mistress in cases where her kind heart would have found it difficult to pronounce a severe sentence, and cleopatra had permitted it, though without commendation or praise. what happened within its walls--thanks to the silence of the warder--never passed beyond the portals. if barine cursed her life there, she would still fare better than she, iras, who during the past few nights had been on the brink of despair whenever she thought of the man who had disdained her love and abandoned her for another. as the syrian held out his hand to take leave, she asked bluntly "and dion?" "he cannot be set free," was the reply, "for he loves barine; nay, the fool was on the eve of leading her home to his beautiful palace as its mistress." "is that true, really true?" asked iras, whose cheeks and lips lost every tinge of colour, though she succeeded in maintaining her composure. "he confessed it yesterday in a letter to his uncle, the keeper of the seal, in which he entreated him to do his utmost for his chosen bride, whom he would never resign. but zeno has no liking for this niece. do you wish to see the letter?" "then, of course, he cannot be set at liberty," replied iras, and there was additional shrillness in her voice. "he will do everything in his power for the woman he loves, and that is much--far more than you, who are half a stranger here, suspect. the macedonian families stand by each other. he is a member of the council. the bands of the ephebi will support him to a man. and the populace?--he lately spoiled the game of your brother, who was acting for me, in a way. he was finally dragged out of the basin of the fountain, dripping with water and overwhelmed with shame." "for that very reason his mouth must be closed." iras nodded assent, but after a short pause she exclaimed angrily: "i will help you to silence him, but not forever. do you hear? theodotus's saying about the dead dogs which do not bite brought no blessing to any one who followed it. there are other ways of getting rid of this man." "a bird sang that you were not unfriendly to him." "a bird? then it was probably an owl, which cannot see in the daylight. his worst enemy, your brother, would probably sacrifice himself for his welfare sooner than i." "then i shall begin to feel sympathy for this dion." "i saw recently that your compassion surpassed mine. death is not the hardest punishment." "is that the cause of this gracious respite?" "perhaps so. but there are other matters to be considered here. first, the condition of the times. everything is tottering, even the royal power, which a short time ago was a wall which concealed many things and afforded shelter from every assault. then dion himself. i have already numbered those who will support him. since the defeat at actium, the queen can no longer exclaim to that many-headed monster, the people, 'you must,' but 'i entreat.' the others--" "the first considerations are enough; but may i be permitted to know what my wise friend has awarded to the hapless wight from whom she withdrew her favour?" "first, imprisonment here at lochias. he has stained his hands with the blood of caesarion, the king of kings. that is high treason, even in the eyes of the people. try to obtain the order for the arrest this very day." "whenever i can disturb the queen with such matters." "not for nay sake, but to save her from injury. away with everything which can cloud her intellect in these decisive days! first, away with barine, who spoiled her return home; and then let us take care of the man who would be capable, for this woman's sake, of causing an insurrection in alexandria. the great cares associated with the state and the throne are hers; for the minor ones of the toilet and the heart i will provide." here she was interrupted by one of cleopatra's waiting-maids. the queen had awakened, and iras hastened to her post. as she passed charmian's apartments and saw two handsome soldiers, belonging to the macedonian body-guard, pacing to and fro on duty before them, her face darkened. it was against her alone that charmian was protecting barine. she had been harshly reproved by the older woman on account of the artist's daughter, who had been the source of so many incidents which had caused her pain, and iras regretted that she had ever confided to her aunt her love for dion. but, no matter what might happen, the upas-tree whence emanated all these tortures, anxieties, and vexations, must be rooted out--stricken from the ranks of the living. ere she entered the queen's anteroom she had mentally pronounced sentence of death on her enemy. her inventive brain was now busy in devising means to induce the syrian to undertake its execution. if this stone of offence was removed it would again be possible to live in harmony with charmian. dion would be free, and then, much as he had wounded her, she would defend him from the hatred of philostratus and his brother. she entered the queen's presence with a lighter heart. the death of a condemned person had long since ceased to move her deeply. while rendering the first services to her mistress, who had been much refreshed by her sleep, her face grew brighter and brighter; for cleopatra voluntarily told her that she was glad to have her attendance, and not be constantly annoyed by the same disagreeable matter, which must soon be settled. in fact, charmian, conscious that no one else at court would have ventured to do so, had never grown weary, spite of many a rebuff, of pleading barine's cause until, the day before, cleopatra, in a sudden fit of anger, had commanded her not to mention the mischief-maker again. when charmian soon after requested permission to let iras take her place the following day, the queen already regretted the harsh reproof she had given her friend, and, while cordially granting the desired leave, begged her to attribute her angry impatience to the cares which burdened her. "and when you show me your kind, faithful face again," she concluded, "you will have remembered that a true friend withholds from an unhappy woman whom she loves whatever will shadow more deeply her already clouded life. this barine's very name sounds like a jeer at the composure i maintain with so much difficulty. i do not wish to hear it again." the words were uttered in a tone so affectionate and winning, that charmian's vexation melted like ice in the sun. yet she left the queen's presence anxious and troubled; for ere she quitted the room cleopatra remarked that she had committed the singer's affairs to alexas. she was now doubly eager to obtain a day's freedom, for she knew the unprincipled favourite's feelings towards the young beauty, and longed to discuss with archibius the best means of guarding her from the worst perils. when at a late hour she went to rest, she was served by the nubian maid, who had accompanied her to the court from her parents' home. she came from the cataract, where she had been bought when the family of alypius accompanied the child cleopatra to the island of philae. anukis was given to charmian, who at the time was just entering womanhood, as the first servant who was her sole property, and she had proved so clever, skilful, apt to learn, and faithful, that her mistress took her, as her personal attendant, to the palace. charmian's warm, unselfish love for the queen was equalled by anukis's devotion to the mistress who had long since made her free, and had become so strongly attached to her that the nubian's interests were little less regarded than her own. her sound, keen judgment and natural wit had gained a certain renown in the palace, and as cleopatra often condescended to rouse her to an apt answer, antony had done so, too; and since the slight crook in the back, which she had from childhood, had grown into a hump, he gave her the name of aisopion--the female aesop. all the queen's attendants now used it, and though others of lower rank did the same, she permitted it, though her ready wit would have supplied her tongue with a retort sharp enough to respond to any word which displeased her. but she knew the life and fables of aesop, who had also once been a slave, and deemed it an honour to be compared with him. when charmian had left cleopatra and sought her chamber, she found barine sound asleep, but anukis was awaiting her, and her mistress told her with what deep anxiety for barine she had quitted the presence of the queen. she knew that the nubian was fond of the young matron, whom in her childhood she had carried in her arms, and whose father, leonax, had often jested with her. the maid had watched her career with much interest, and while barine had been her mistress's guest her efforts to amuse and soothe her were unceasing. she had gone every morning to berenike to ask tidings of dion's health, and always brought favourable news. anukis knew philostratus and his brother, too, and as she liked antony, who jested with her so kindly, she grieved to see an unprincipled fellow like alexas his chief confidant. she knew the plots with which the syrian had persecuted barine, and when charmian told her that the queen had committed the young beauty's fate to this man's keeping her dark face grew fairly livid; but she forced herself to conceal the terror which the news inspired. her mistress was also aware what this choice meant to barine. but anukis would have thought it wrong to disturb charmian's sleep by revealing her own distress. it was fortunate that she was going early the next morning to seek the aid of archibius, whom anukis believed to be the wisest of men; but this by no means soothed her. she knew the fable of the lion and the mouse, which had been told in her home long before the time of the author for whom she was nicknamed, and already more than once she had been in a position to render far greater and more powerful persons an important service. to soothe charmian to sleep and turn her thoughts in another direction, she told her about dion, whom she had found much better that day, how tenderly he seemed to love barine, and how touchingly patient and worthy of her father the daughter of leonax had been. after her mistress had fallen asleep she went to the hall where, spite of the late hour, she expected to meet some of the servants--sure of being greeted as a welcome guest. when, a short time later, alexas's body- slave appeared, she filled his wire cup, sat down by his side, and tried with all the powers at her command to win his confidence. and so well did the elderly nubian succeed that marsyas, a handsome young ligurian, after she had gone, declared that aisopion's jokes and stories were enough to bring the dead to life, and it was as pleasant to talk seriously with the brown-skinned monster as to dally with a fair-haired sweetheart. after charmian had left the palace the following morning, anukis again sought marsyas and learned from him for what purpose and at what hour iras had summoned alexas. his master was continually whispering with the languishing macedonian. when anukis returned, barine seemed troubled because she brought no tidings from her mother and dion; but the nubian entreated her to have patience, and gave her some books and a spindle, that she might have occupation in her solitude. she, anukis, must go to the kitchen, because she had heard yesterday that the cook had bought some mushrooms, which might be poisonous; she knew the fungi and wanted to see them. then, passing into charmian's chamber, she glided through the corridor which connected the apartments of cleopatra's confidential attendants, and slipped into iras's room. when alexas entered she was concealed behind one of the hangings which covered the walls of the reception-room. after the syrian had retired and iras had been called away, anukis returned to barine and said that the mushrooms had really been poisonous, and of the deadliest species. they had been cooked, and she must go out to seek an antidote. since a precious human life might be at stake, barine would not wish to keep her. "go," said the latter, kindly. "but if you are the old obliging aisopion, you won't object to going a little farther." "and inquiring at the house near the paneum garden," added anukis. "that was already settled. longing is also a poison for a loving heart, and its antidote is good news." with these laughing words she left her favourite; but as soon as she was out of doors her black brow became lined with earnest thought, and she stood pondering a long time. at last she went to the bruchium to hire a donkey to ride to kanopus, where she hoped to find archibius. it was difficult to reach the nearest stand; for a great crowd had assembled on the quay between the lochias and the corner of the muses, and groups of the common people, sailors, and slaves were constantly flocking hither. but she at last forced her way to the spot and, while the driver was helping her to mount the animal she had chosen, she asked what had attracted the throng, and he answered: "they are tearing down the house of the old museum fungus, didymus." "how can that be?" cried the startled woman. "the good old man!" "good?" repeated the driver, scornfully. "he's a traitor, who has caused all the trouble. philostratus, the brother of the great alexas, a friend of mark antony, told us so. he wanted to prove it, so it must be true. hear the shouts, and how the stones are flying! yes, yes. his granddaughter and her lover set an ambush for the king caesarion. they would have killed him, but the watch interfered, and now he lies wounded on his couch. if mighty isis does not lend her aid, the young prince's life will soon be over." then, turning to the donkey, he dealt him two severe blows on the right and left haunches, shouting: "hi, grey! it does one good to hear that royal backs have room for the cudgel too." meanwhile, the nubian was hesitating whether she should not first turn the donkey to the right and seek didymus; but barine was threatened by greater peril, and her life was of more value than the welfare of the aged pair. this decided the question, and she rode forward. the donkey and his driver did their best, but they came too late; for in the little palace at kanopus, anukis learned from the porter that archibius had gone to the city with his old friend timagenes, the historian, who lived in rome, and seemed to have come to alexandria as an envoy. charmian, too, had been here, but also failed to find the master of the house, and followed him. evil tidings-which, owing to the loss of time involved, might prove fatal. if the donkey had only been swifter! true, archibius's stable was full of fine animals, but who was she that she should presume to use them? yet she had gained something which rendered her the equal of many who were born free and occupied a higher station-- the reputation for trustworthiness and wisdom; and relying upon this, she told the faithful old steward, as far as possible, what was at stake, and soon after he himself took her, both mounted on swift mules, to the city and the paneum garden. he chose the nearest road thither through the gate of the sun and the kanopic way. usually at this hour it was crowded with people, but to-day few persons were astir. all the idlers had thronged to the bruchium and the harbour to see the returning ships of the vanquished fleet, hear something new, witness the demonstrations of joy, the sacrifices and processions, and--if fortune favoured--meet the queen and relieve their overflowing hearts by acclamations. when the carriage turned towards the left and approached the paneum, progress for the first time became difficult. a dense crowd had gathered around the hill on whose summit the sanctuary of pan dominated the spacious garden. anukis's eye perceived the tall figure of philostratus. was the mischief-maker everywhere? this time he seemed to encounter opposition, for loud shouts interrupted his words. just as the carriage passed he pointed to the row of houses in which the widow of leonax lived, but violent resistance followed the gesture. anukis perceived what restrained the crowd; for, as the equipage approached its destination, a body of armed youths stopped it. their finely-formed limbs, steeled by the training of the palaestra, and the raven, chestnut, and golden locks floating around their well-shaped heads, were indeed beautiful. they were a band of the ephebi, formerly commanded by archibius, and to whose leadership more recently dion had been elected. the youths had heard what had occurred--that imprisonment, perhaps even worse disaster, threatened him. at any other time it would scarcely have been possible to oppose the decree of the government and guard their imperilled friend, but in these dark days the rulers must deal with them. though they were loyal to the queen, and had resolved, spite of her defeat, to support her cause, as soon as she needed them, they would not suffer dion to be punished for a crime which, in their eyes, was an honour. their determination to protect him grew more eager with every vexatious delay on the part of the city council to deal with a matter which concerned one of their own body. they had not yet decided whether to demand a full pardon or only a mild sentence for the man who had wounded the "king of kings," the son of the sovereign. moreover, the quiet caesarion, still subject to his tutor, had not understood how to win the favour of the ephebi. the weakling never appeared in the palaestra, which even the great mark antony did not disdain to visit. the latter had more than once given the youths assembled there proofs of his giant strength, and his son antyllus also frequently shared their exercises. dion had merely dealt caesarion with his clenched fist one of the blows which every one must encounter in the arena. philotas of amphissa, the pupil of didymus, had been the first to inform them of the attack and, with fiery zeal, had used his utmost power to atone for the wrong done to his master's granddaughter. his appeal had roused the most eager sympathy. the ephebi believed themselves strong enough to defend their friend against any one and, if the worst should come, they knew they would be sustained by the council, the exegetus, the captain of the guard--a brave macedonian, who had once been an ornament of their own band--and the numerous clients of dion and his family. there was not a single weakling among them. they had already found an opportunity to prove this; for, though they had arrived too late to protect didymus's property from injury, they had checked the fury of the mob whose passions philostratus had aroused, and forced back the crowd whom the syrian led to barine's dwelling to devote it to the same fate. another equipage was already standing before the door of berenike's house--one of the carriages which were always at the disposal of the queen's officials--when anukis left archibius's vehicle. had some of alexas's myrmidons arrived, or was he himself on the way to examine dion, or even arrest him? the driver, like all the palace servants, knew anukis, and she learned from him that he had brought gorgias, the architect. anukis had never met the latter, though, during the rebuilding of caesarion's apartments, she had often seen him, and heard much of him; among other things, that dion's beautiful palace was his work. he was a friend of the wounded man, so she need not fear him. when she entered the atrium she heard that berenike had gone out to drive with archibius and his roman friend. the leech had forbidden his patient to see many visitors. no one had been admitted except gorgias and one of dion's freedmen. but time pressed; people of the same rank and disposition understand one another; the old porter and the nubian were both loyal to their employers, and, moreover, were natives of the same country; so it required only a few words to persuade the door-keeper to conduct her without delay to the bedside of the wounded man. the freedman, a tall, weather-beaten greybeard, simply clad, who looked like a pilot, was waiting outside the sick-room. he had not yet been admitted to dion's presence, but this did not appear to vex him, for he stood leaning quietly against the wall beside the door, gazing at the broad-brimmed sailor's hat which he was slowly turning in his hands. scarcely had dion heard anukis's name, when an eager "let her come in" reached her ears through the half-open door. the nubian waited to be summoned, but her dark face must have showed distinctly that something important and urgent had brought her here, for the wounded man added to his first words of greeting the expression of a fear that she had no good news. her reply was an eager nod of assent, accompanied by a doubtful glance at gorgias; and dion now curtly told the architect the name of the newcomer, and assured her that his friend might hear everything, even the greatest secret. anukis uttered a sigh of relief and then, in a tone of the most earnest warning, poured forth the story of the impending danger. she would not be satisfied when he spoke of the ephebi, who were ready to defend him, and the council, which would make the cause of one of its members its own, but entreated him to seek some safe place of refuge, no matter where; for powers against whom no resistance would avail were stretching their hands towards him. even this statement, however, proved useless, for dion was convinced that the influence of his uncle, the keeper of the seal, would guard him from any serious danger. then anukis resolved to confess what she had overheard; but she told the story without mentioning barine, and the peril threatening her also. finally, with all the warmth of a really anxious heart, she entreated him to heed her warning. even while she was still speaking, the friends exchanged significant glances; but scarcely had the last words fallen from her lips when the giant figure of the freedman passed through the door, which had remained open. "you here, pyrrhus?" cried the wounded man kindly. "yes, master, it is i," replied the stalwart fellow, twirling his sailor hat still faster. "listening isn't exactly my trade, and i don't usually enter your presence uninvited; but i couldn't help hearing what came through the door, and the croaking of the old raven drew me in." "i wish you had heard more cheerful things," replied dion; "but the brown-skinned bird of ill omen usually sings pleasant songs, and they all come from a faithful heart. but when my silent pyrrhus opens his mouth so far, something important must surely follow, and you can speak freely in her presence." the sailor cleared his throat, gripped his coarse felt hat in his sinewy hands, and said, in such a tremulous, embarrassed tone that his heavy chin quivered and his voice sometimes faltered: "if the woman is to be trusted, you must leave here, master, and seek some safe hiding-place. i came to offer one. on my way i heard your name. it was said that you had wounded the queen's son, and it might cost you your life. then i thought: 'no, no, not that, so long as pyrrhus lives, who taught his young master dion to use the oars and to set his first sail--pyrrhus and his family.' why repeat what we both know well enough? from my first boat and the land on our island to the liberty you bestowed upon us, we owe everything to your father and to you, and a blessing has rested upon your gift and our labour, and what is mine is yours. no more words are needed. you know our cliff beyond the alveus steganus, north of the great harbour--the isle of serpents. it is quickly gained by any one who knows the course through the water, but is as inaccessible to others as the moon and stars. people are afraid of the mere name, though we rid the island of the vermin long ago. my boys dionysus, dionichus, and dionikus--they all have 'dion' in their name--are waiting in the fish market, and when it grows dusk--" here the wounded man interrupted the speaker by holding out his hand and thanking him warmly for his fidelity and kindness, though he refused the well-meant invitation. he admitted that he knew no safer hiding-place than the cliff surrounded by fluttering sea-gulls, where pyrrhus lived with his family and earned abundant support by fishing and serving as pilot. but anxiety concerning his future wife prevented his leaving the city. the freedman however gave him no rest. he represented how quickly the harbour could be reached from his island, that fish were brought thence from it daily, and he would therefore always have news of what was passing. his sons were like him, and never used any unnecessary words; talking did not suit them. the women of the household rarely left the island. so long as it sheltered their beloved guest, they should not set foot away from it. if occasion should require, the master could be in alexandria again quickly enough to put anything right. this suggestion pleased the architect, who joined in the conversation to urge the freedman's request. but dion, for barine's sake, obstinately refused, until anukis, who had long been anxious to go in pursuit of archibius, thought it time to give her opinion. "go with the man, my lord!" she cried. "i know what i know. i will tell our barine of your faithful resolution; but how can she show her gratitude for it if you are a dead man?" this question and the information which followed it turned the scale; and, as soon as dion had consented to accompany the freedman, the nubian prepared to continue her errands, but the wounded man detained her to give many messages for barine, and then she was stopped by the architect, who thought he had found in her the right assistant for numerous plans he had in his mind. he had returned early that morning from heroonpolis, where, with other members of his profession, he had inspected the newly constructed waterway. the result of the first investigation had been unfavourable to the verge of discouragement; and, in behalf of the others, he had gone to the queen to persuade her to give up the enterprise which, though so full of promise, was impracticable in the short time at their disposal. he had travelled all night, and was received as soon as cleopatra rose from her couch. he had driven from the lochias in the carriage placed at his disposal because he had business at the arsenal and various points where building was going on, in order to inspect the wall erected for antony on the choma, and the temple of isis at the corner of the muses, to which cleopatra desired to add a new building. but scarcely had he quitted the bruchium when he was detained by the crowd assailing the house of didymus with beams and rams, and at the same time keeping off the ephebi who had attacked them. he had forced his way through the raging mob to aid the old couple and their granddaughter. the slave phryx had been busily preparing the boats which lay moored in the harbour of the seawashed estate, but gorgias had found it difficult to persuade the grey-haired philosopher to go with him and his family to the shore. he was ready to face the enraged rioters and--though it should cost his life--cry out that they were shamefully deceived and were staining themselves with a disgraceful crime. not until the architect represented that it was unworthy of a didymus to expose to bestial violence a life on which helpless women and the whole world--to whom his writings were guide-posts to the realms of truth-- possessed a claim, could he be induced to yield. nevertheless, the sage and his relatives almost fell into the hands of the furious rabble, for didymus would not depart until he had saved this, that, and the other precious book, till the number reached twenty or thirty. besides, his old deaf wife, who usually submitted quietly when her defective hearing prevented her comprehension of many things, insisted upon knowing what was occurring. she ordered everybody who came near her to explain what had happened, thus detaining her granddaughter helena, who was trying to save the most valuable articles in the dwelling. so the departure was delayed, and only the brave defence of young philotas, didymus's assistant, and some of the ephebi, who joined him, enabled them to escape unharmed. the scythian guards, which at last put a stop to the frantic rage of the deluded populace, arrived too late to prevent the destruction of the house, but they saved philotas and the other youths from the fists and stones of the rabble. when the boats had gone farther out into the harbour the question of finding a home for the philosopher and his family was discussed. berenike's house was also threatened, and the rules of the museum prevented the reception of women. five servants had accompanied the family, and none of didymus's learned friends had room for so many guests. when the old man and helena began to enumerate the lodgings of which they could think, gorgias interposed with an entreaty that they would come to his house. he had inherited the dwelling from his father. it was very large and spacious, almost empty, and they could reach it speedily, as it stood on the seashore, north of the forum. the fugitives would be entirely at liberty there, since he had work on hand which would permit him to spend no time under his own roof except at night. he soon overcame the trivial objections made by the philosopher and, fifteen minutes after they had left the corner of the muses, he was permitted to open the door of his house to his guests, and he did so with genuine pleasure. the old housekeeper and the grey-haired steward, who had been in his father's service, looked surprised, but worked zealously after gorgias had confided the visitors to their charge. the pressure of business forbade his fulfilling the duties of host in his own person. didymus and his family had reason to be grateful; and when the old sage found in the large library which the architect placed at his disposal many excellent books and among them some of his own, he ceased his restless pacing to and fro and forced himself to settle down. then he remembered that, by the advice of a friend, he had placed his property in the keeping of a reliable banker and, though life still seemed dark grey, it no longer looked as black as before. gorgias briefly related all this to the nubian, and dion added that she would find archibius with his roman friend at the house of berenike's brother, the philosopher arius. like himself, the latter was suffering from an injury inflicted by a reckless trick of antyllus. barine's mother was there also, so anukis could inform them of the fate of didymus and his brother, and tell them that he, dion, intended to leave her house and the city an hour after sunset. "but," interrupted gorgias, "no one, not even your hostess berenike and her brother, must know your destination.--you look as if you could keep a secret, woman." "though she owes her nickname aisopion to her nimble tongue," replied dion. "but this tongue is like the little silver fish with scarlet spots in the palace garden," said anukis. "they dart to and fro nimbly enough; but as soon as danger threatens they keep as quiet in the water as though they were nailed fast. and--by mighty isis!--we have no lack of peril in these trying times. would you like to see the lady berenike and the others before your departure?" "berenike, yes; but the sons of arius--they are fine fellows--would be wise to keep aloof from this house to-day." "yes indeed!" the architect chimed in. "it will be prudent for their father, too, to seek some hiding-place. he is too closely connected with octavianus. it may indeed happen that the queen will desire to make use of him. in that case he may be able to aid barine, who is his sister's child. timagenes, too, who comes from rome as a mediator, may have some influence." "the same thoughts entered my poor brain also," said anukis. "i am now going to show the gentlemen the danger which threatens her, and if i succeed--yet what could a serving-woman of my appearance accomplish? still--my house is nearer to the brink of the stream than the dwelling of most others, and if i fling in a loaf, perhaps the current will bear it to the majestic sea." "wise aisopion!" cried dion; but the worthy maid-servant shrugged her crooked shoulders, saying: "we needn't be free-born to find pleasure in what is right; and if being wise means using one's brains to think, with the intention of promoting right and justice, you can always call me so. then you will start after sundown?" with these words she was about to leave the room, but the architect, who had watched her every movement, had formed a plan and begged her to follow him. when they reached the next room he asked for a faithful account of barine and the dangers threatening her. after consulting her as if she were an equal, he held out his hand in farewell, saying: "if it is possible to bring her to the temple of isis unseen, these clouds may scatter. i shall be in the sanctuary of the goddess from the first hour after sunset. i have some measurements to take there. when you say you know that the immortals will have pity on the innocent woman whom they have led to the verge of the abyss, perhaps you may be right. it seems as if matters here were combining in a way which would be apt to rob the story- teller of his listener's faith." after aisopion had gone, gorgias returned to dion's room and asked the freedman to be ready with his boat at a place on the shore which he carefully described. the friends were again alone. gorgias had his hands full of work, but he could not help expressing his surprise at the calm bearing which dion maintained. "you behave as if you were going to an oyster supper at kanopus," he said, shaking his head as though perplexed by some incomprehensible problem. "what else would you have me do?" asked the macedonian. "the vivid imagination of you artists shows you the future according to your own varying moods. if you hope, you transform a pleasant garden into the elysian fields; if you fear anything you behold in a burning roof the conflagration of a world. we, from whose cradle the muse was absent, who use only sober reason to provide for the welfare of the household and the state, as well as for our own, see facts as they are and treat them like figures in a sum. i know that barine is in danger. that might drive me frantic; but beyond her i see archibius and charmian spreading their protecting wings over her head; i perceive the fear of my faction, including the museum, of the council of which i am a member, of my clients and the conditions of the times, which precludes arousing the wrath of the citizens. the product which results from the correct addition of all these known quantities--" "will be correct," interrupted his friend, "so long as the most incalculable of all factors, passion, does not blend with them--the passion of a woman--and the queen belongs to the sex which is certainly more powerful in that domain." "granted! but as soon as mark antony returns it will be proved that her jealousy was needless." "we will hope so. it is only the misled, deceived, abused cleopatra whom i fear; for she herself is matchless in divine goodness. the charm by which she ensnares hearts is indescribable, and the iron power of her intellect! i tell you, dion--" "friend, friend," was the laughing interruption. "how high your wishes soar! for three years i have kept an account of the conflagrations in your heart. i believe we had reached seventeen; but this last one is equal to two." "folly!" cried gorgias in an irritated tone: "may not a man admire what is magnificent, wonderful, unique? she is all these things! just now-- how long ago is it?--she appeared before me in a radiance of beauty--" "which should have made you shade both eyes. yet you have been speaking so warmly of your young guest, her loving caution, her gentle calmness in the midst of peril--" "do you suppose i wish to recall a single syllable?" the architect indignantly broke in. "helena has no peer among the maidens of alexandria--but the other--cleopatra--is elevated in her divine majesty above all ordinary mortals. you might spare me and yourself that scornful curl of the lip. had she gazed into your face with those tearful, sorrowful eyes, as she did into mine, and spoken of her misery, you would have gone through fire and water, hand in hand with me, for her sake. i am not a man who is easily moved, and since my father's death the only tears i have seen have been shed by others; but when she talked of the mausoleum i was to build for her because fate, she knew not how soon, might force her to seek refuge in the arms of death, my calmness vanished. then, when she cumbered me among the friends on whom she could rely and held out her hand--a matchless hand--oh! laugh if you choose-- i felt i know not how, and kneeling at her feet i kissed it; it was wet with my tears. i am not ashamed of this emotion, and my lips seem consecrated since they touched the little white hand which spoke a language of its own and stands before my eyes wherever i gaze." pushing back his thick locks from his brow as he spoke, he shook his head as though dissatisfied with himself and, in an altered tone, hurriedly continued: "but this is a time ill-suited for such ebullitions of feeling. i mentioned the mausoleum, whose erection the queen desires. she will see the first hasty sketch to-morrow. it is already before my mind's eye. she wished to have it adjoin the temple of isis, her goddess--i proposed the great sanctuary in the rhakotis quarter, but she objected--she wished to have it close to the palace at lochias. she had thought of the temple at the corner of the muses, but the house occupied by didymus stood in the way of a larger structure. if this were removed it would be possible to carry the street through the old man's garden, perhaps even to the sea-shore, and we should have had space for a gigantic edifice and still left room for a fine garden. but we had learned how the philosopher loved his family estate. the queen is unwilling to use violence towards the old man. she is just, and perhaps other reasons, of which i am ignorant, influence her. so i promised to look for another site, though i saw how much she desired to have her tomb connected with the sanctuary of her favourite goddess then--i have already told the clever brown witch--then the immortals, divinity, fate, or whatever we call the power which guides the world and our lives according to eternal laws and its own mysterious, omnipotent will, permitted a rascally deed, from which i think may come deliverance for you and a source of pleasure to the queen in these days of trial." "man, man! where will this new passion lead you? the horses are stamping impatiently outside; duty summons the most faithful of men, and he stands like a prophet, indulging in mysterious sayings!" "whose meaning and purport, spite of your calm calculations of existing circumstances, will soon seem no less wonderful to you than to me, whose unruly artist nature, according to your opinion, is playing me a trick," retorted the architect. "now listen to this explanation: didymus's house will be occupied at once by my workmen, but i shall examine the lower rooms of the temple of isis. i have with me a document requiring obedience to my orders. cleopatra herself laid the plans before me, even the secret portion showing the course of the subterranean chambers. it will cast some light upon my mysterious sayings if i bear you away from the enemy through one of the secret corridors. they were right in concealing from you by how slender a thread, spite of the power of your example in mathematics, the sword hangs above your head. now that i see a possibility of removing it, i can show it to you. tomorrow you would have fallen, without hope of rescue, into the hands of cruel foes and been shamefully abandoned by your own weak uncle, had not the most implacable of all your enemies permitted himself the infamous pleasure of laying hands on an old man's house, and the queen, in consequence of an agitating message, had the idea suggested of building her own mausoleum. the corridor"--here he lowered his voice--"of which i spoke leads to the sea at a spot close beside didymus's garden, and through it i will guide you, and, if possible, barine also, to the shore. this could be accomplished in the usual way only by the greatest risk. if we use the passage we can reach a dark place on the strand unseen, and unless some special misfortune pursues us our flight will be unnoticed. the litters and your tottering gait would betray everything if we were to enter the boat anywhere else in the great harbour." "and we, sensible folk, refuse to believe in miracles!" cried dion, holding out his wan hand to the architect. "how shall i thank you, you dear, clever, most loyal of friends to your male friends, though your heart is so faithless to fair ones? add that malicious speech to the former ones, for which i now crave your pardon. what you intend to accomplish for barine and me gives you a right to do and say to me whatever ill you choose all the rest of my life. anxiety for her would surely have bound me to this house and the city when the time came to make the escape, for without her my life would now be valueless. but when i think that she might follow me to pyrrhus's cliff--" "don't flatter yourself with this hope," pleaded gorgias. "serious obstacles may interpose. i am to have another talk with the nubian later. with no offence to others, i believe her advice will be the best. she knows how matters stand with the lofty, and yet herself belongs to the lowly. besides, through charmian the way to the queen lies open, and nothing which happens at court escapes her notice. she showed me that we must consider barine's delivery to alexas a piece of good fortune. how easily jealousy might have led to a fatal crime one whose wish promptly becomes action, unless she curbs the undue zeal of her living tools! those on whom fate inflicts so many blows rarely are in haste to spare others. would the anxieties which weigh upon her like mountains interpose between the queen and the jealous rancour which is too petty for her great soul?" "what is great or petty to the heart of a loving woman?" asked dion. "in any case you will do what you can to remove barine from the power of the enraged princess--i know." gorgias pressed his friend's hand closely, then, yielding to a sudden impulse, kissed him on the forehead and hurried to the door. on the threshold a faint moan from the wounded man stopped him. would he be strong enough to follow the long passage leading to the sea? dion protested that he confidently expected to do so, but his deeply flushed face betrayed that the fever which had once been conquered had returned. gorgias's eyes sought the floor in deep thought. many sick persons were borne to the temple in the hope of cure; so dion's appearance would cause no special surprise. on the other hand, to have strangers carry him through the passage seemed perilous. he himself was strong, but even the strongest person would have found it impossible to support the heavy burden of a grown man to the sea, for the gallery was low and of considerable length. still, if necessary, he would try. with the comforting exclamation, "if your strength does not suffice, another way will be found," he took his leave, gave barine's maid and the wounded man's body-slave the necessary directions, commanded the door-keeper to admit no one save the physician, and stepped into the open air. a little band of ephebi were pacing to and fro before the house. others had flung themselves down in an open space surrounded by shrubbery in the paneum garden, and were drinking the choice wine which dion's cellarer, by his orders, had brought and was pouring out for the crowd. it was an animated scene, for the clients of the sufferer, who, after expressing their sympathy, had been dismissed by the porter, and bedizened girls had joined the youths. there was no lack of jests and laughter, and when some pretty young mother or female slave passed by leading children, with whom the garden was a favourite playground, many a merry word was exchanged. gorgias waved his hands gaily to the youths, pleased with the cheerfulness with which the brave fellows transformed duty into a festival, and many raised their wine-cups, shouting a joyous "io" and "evoe," to drink the health of the famous artist who not long ago had been one of themselves. the others were led by a slender youth, the student philotas, from amphissa, didymus's assistant, whom the architect, a few days before, had helped to liberate from the demons of wine. even while gorgias was beckoning to him from the two-wheeled chariot, the thought entered his mind that yonder handsome youth, who had so deeply wronged barine and dion, would be the very person to help carry his friend through the low- roofed passage to the sea. if philotas was the person gorgias believed him to be, he would deem it a special favour to make amends for his crime to those whom he had injured, and he was not mistaken; for, after the youth had taken a solemn oath not to betray the secret to any one, the architect asked him to aid in dion's rescue. philotas, overflowing with joyful gratitude, protested his willingness to do so, and promised to wait at the appointed spot in the temple of isis at the time mentioned. chapter xiv. while gorgias was examining the subterranean chambers in the temple of isis, charmian returned to lochias earlier than she herself had expected. she had met her brother, whom she did not find at kanopus, at berenike's, and after greeting dion on his couch of pain, she told archibius of her anxiety. she confided to him alone that the queen had committed barine's fate to alexas, for the news might easily have led the mother of the endangered woman to some desperate venture; but even archibius's composure, so difficult to disturb, was not proof against it. he would have sought the queen's presence at once--if necessary, forced his way to it; but the historian timagenes, who had just come from rome, was expecting him, and he had not returned to his birthplace as a private citizen, but commissioned by octavianus to act as mediator in putting an end to the struggle which had really been decided in his favour at the battle of actium. the choice of this mediator was a happy one; for he had taught cleopatra in her childhood, and was the self-same quick-witted man who had so often roused her to argument. his share in a popular insurrection against the roman rule had led to his being carried as a slave to the tiber. there he soon purchased his freedom, and attained such distinction that octavianus entrusted this important mission to the man who was so well known in alexandria. archibius was to meet him at the house of arius, who was still suffering from the wounds inflicted by the chariot-wheels of antyllus, and berenike had accompanied timagenes to her brother. charmian did not venture to go there; a visit to octavianus's former teacher would have been misinterpreted, and it was repugnant to her own delicacy of feeling to hold intercourse at this time with the foe and conqueror of her royal mistress. she therefore let her brother drive with berenike to the injured man's; but before his departure archibius had promised, if the worst came, to dare everything to open the eyes of the queen, who had forbidden her, charmian, to speak in behalf of barine and thwart the plans of alexas. from the paneum garden she was carried to the kanopic way and the jewish quarter, where she had many important purchases to make for cleopatra. it was long after noon when the litter was again borne to lochias. on the way she had severely felt her own powerlessness. without having accomplished anything herself, she was forced to wait for the success of others; and she had scarcely crossed the threshold of the palace ere fresh cares were added to those which already burdened her soul. she understood how to read the faces of courtiers, and the door-keeper's had taught her that since her departure something momentous had occurred. she disliked to question the slaves and lower officials, so she refrained, though the interior of the palace was crowded with guards, officials of every grade, attendants, and slaves. many who saw her gazed at her with the timidity inspired by those over whom some disaster is im pending. others, whose relations were more intimate, pressed forward to enjoy the mournful satisfaction of being the first messengers of evil tidings. but she passed swiftly on, keeping them back with grave words and gestures, until, before the door of the great anteroom thronged with greek and egyptian petitioners, she met zeno, the keeper of the seal. charmian stopped him and inquired what had happened. "since when?" asked the old courtier. "every moment has brought some fresh tidings and all are mournful. what terrible times, charmian, what disasters!" "no messenger had arrived when i left the lochias," replied charmian. "now it seems as though the old monster of a palace, accustomed to so many horrors, is holding its breath in dread. tell me the main thing, at least, before i meet the queen." the main thing? pestilence or famine--which shall we call the worse?" "quick, zeno! i am expected." "i, too, am in haste, and really there is nothing to relate over which the tongue would care to dwell. candidus arrived first. came himself straight from actium. the fellow is bold enough." "is the army defeated also?" "defeated, dispersed, deserted to the foe--king herod with his legions in the van." charmian covered her face with her hands and groaned aloud, but zeno continued: "you were with her in the flight. when mark antony left you, he sailed with the ships which joined him for paraetonium. a large body of troops on which the queen and mardion had fixed their hopes was encamped there. reinforcements could easily be gained and we should once more have a fine army at our disposal." "pinarius scarpus, a cautious soldier, was in command; and i, too, believed--" "the more you trusted him, the greater would be your error. the shameless rascal--he owes everything to antony--had received tidings of actium ere the ships arrived, and had already made overtures to octavianus when the imperator came. the veterans who opposed the treachery were hewn down by the wretch's orders, but the brave garrison of the city could not be won over to the monstrous crime. it is due to these men that mark antony still lives and did not come to a miserable end at the hands of his own troops. the twice-defeated general-- a courier brought the news--will arrive to-night. strangely enough, he will not come to lochias, but to the little palace on the choma." "poor, poor queen!" cried charmian; "how did she bear all this?" "in the presence of the defeated candidus and antony's messenger like a heroine. but afterwards----her raving did not last long; but the mute, despairing silence! ere she had fully recovered her self-command she sent us all away, and i have not seen her since. but all the thoughts and feelings which dwell here"--he pointed to his brow and breast--"have left their abode and linger with her. i totter from place to place like a soulless body. o charmian! what has befallen us? where are the days when care and trouble lay buried with the other dead--the days and nights when my brain united with that of the queen to transform this desolate earth into the beautiful elysian fields, every-day life to a festival, festivals to the very air of olympus? what unprecedented scenes of splendour had i not devised for the celebration of the victory, the triumph--nay, even the entry into rome! whole chests are filled with the sketches, programmes, drawings, and verses. all who handle brush and chisel, compose and execute music, would have lent their aid, and--you may believe me-the result would have been something which future generations would have discussed, lauded, and extolled in song. and now--now?" "now we will double our efforts to save what is yet to be rescued!" "rescued?" repeated the courtier in a hollow tone. "the queen, too, still clings to this fine word. when i saw her at work yesterday, it seemed as if i beheld her drawing water with the bottomless vessel of the danaides. true, today, when i left her, her arms had fallen--and in this attitude she now stands before me with her tearful eyes. and besides, i can't get my nephew dion out of my mind. cares--nothing but cares concerning him! and my intentions towards him were so kind! my will gives him my entire fortune; but now he actually wants to marry the singer, the daughter of the artist leonax. you have taken her under your protection, but surely your own niece, iras, is dearer to you, so you will approve of my destroying the will if dion insists upon his own way. he shall not have a solidus of my property if he does not give up the woman who is a thorn in the queen's flesh. and his choice does not suit our ancient race. iras, on the contrary, was dion's playfellow, and i have long destined her for his wife. no better match, nor one more acceptable to the queen, could be found for him. he cared for her until the singer bewitched him. bring them together, and they shall be like my own children. if the fool resists his uncle, whose sole desire is to benefit him, i will withdraw my aid. whatever intrigues his foes may weave, i shall fold my arms and not interfere. i stand in the place of his father, my dead brother, and demand obedience. the queen is my universe, and her favour is of more value than twenty refractory nephews." "you will retain her majesty's favour, even if you intercede for your brother's son." "and iras? when she finds herself deceived--and she will soon discover it--she will not rest--" "until she has brought ruin upon him," interrupted charmian, in a tone of sorrow rather than reproach as though she already beheld the impending disaster. "but iras has no greater influence with the queen than i, and if you and i unite to protect the brave young fellow, who is of your own blood--" "then, of course--no doubt, on account of your longer period of service, you have more influence with her majesty than iras--however--such matters must be considered--and i have already said--my mind leaves its abode to follow the queen like her shadow. it heeds only what concerns her. let everything else go as it will. the fleet the same as destroyed, candidus defeated, herod a deserter, treason on treason--the african legions lost! what in the name of the god who tried to roll back the wheel dashing down the mountain-side!--and yet! let us offer sacrifices, my friend, and hope for better days!" zeno retired as he spoke, but charmian moved forward with a drooping head to find barine and her faithful anukis, and weep her fill ere she went to perform the duty of consoling and sustaining her beloved mistress. yet she herself so sorely needed comfort. wherever she turned her eyes she beheld disaster, peril, treachery, and base intrigues. she felt as if she had lived long enough, and that her day was over. hitherto her gentle nature, her intellect, which yearned to expand, gather new riches, and exchange what it had gained with others, had possessed much to offer to the queen. she had not only been cleopatra's confidante, but necessary to her to discuss questions far in advance of the demands of the times, which occupied her restless mind. now the queen's attention was wholly absorbed by events--hard, cruel facts--which she must resist or turn to her own advantage. her life had become a conflict, and charmian felt that she was by no means combative. the hard, supple, keenly polished intellect of iras now asserted its value, and the elderly woman told herself that she was in danger of being held in less regard than her younger companion. to resign her office would have given her peace of mind, but she repelled the thought. for the very reason that these days were so full of misery and perhaps drawing nearer to the end, she must remain, first for the sake of the queen, but also to watch over barine. now she longed to go to cleopatra. her mere presence, she knew, would do her sore heart good. the silvery laugh of a child reached her ears through the open gate of the garden which she was rapidly approaching. little six-year-old alexander ran towards her with open arms, hugged her closely, pressed his curly head against her, and gazed into her face with his large clear eyes. charmian's heart swelled; and as she raised the child in her arms and kissed him, she thought of the sad fate impending, and the composure maintained with so much difficulty gave way; tears streamed from her eyes and, sobbing violently, she pressed the boy closer to her breast. the prince, accustomed to bright faces and tender caresses, broke away from her in terror to run back to his brother and sisters. but he had a kind little heart, and, knowing that no one weeps and sobs unless in pain, alexander pitied charmian, whom he loved, and hurried to her again. what he meant to show her had pleased his mother, too, and dried the tears in her eyes. so he took charmian by the hand and drew her along, saying that he wanted her to see the prettiest thing. she willingly allowed herself to be led over the paths, strewn with red sand, of the little garden which antony had had laid out for his children in the magnificent style which pleased his love of splendour, and filled with rare and beautiful things. there was a pond with tiny gold and silver fish, where the rare lotus flowers with pink blossoms arose from amid their smooth green leaves, and another where dwarf ducks of every colour, which seemed as if they had been created for children, swam to and fro. a bit of the sea which washed its shore had been enclosed by a gilded latticework, and on its surface floated a number of snow-white swans and black ones with scarlet bills. native and indian flowers of every hue adorned the beds, and the narrow paths were shaded by arbours made of gold wire, over which ran climbing vines filled with bright blossoms. a grotto of stalactites behind the dense foliage of an indian tree offered a resting-place, and beside it was a little house where the children could stay. the interior lacked none of the requisites of living, not even the cooking utensils in the kitchen, and the family portraits in the tablinum, delicately painted by an artist on small ivory slabs. everything was made to suit the size of children, but of the most costly material and careful workmanship. behind the house was a little stable where four tiny horses with spotted skins, the rarest and prettiest creatures imaginable--a gift from the king of media--were stamping the ground. in another place was an enclosure containing gazelles, ostriches, young giraffes, and other grass-eating animals. bright-plumaged birds and monkeys filled the tops of the trees, gay balls rose and fell on the jets of the fountains, and child genii and images of the gods in bronze and marble peered from the foliage. this whole enchanted world was comprised within a narrow space, and, with its radiance of colour and wealth of form, its perfume, songs, and warbling, exerted a bewildering influence upon the excited imaginations of grown people as well as children. little alexander, without even casting a glance at all this, drew charmian forward. he did not pause until he reached the shore of the lotus pond; then, putting his fingers on his lips, he said: "there, now, i'll show you. look here!" rising cautiously upon tip-toe as he spoke, he pointed to the hollow in the trunk of a tree. a pair of finches had built their nest in it, and five young ones with big yellow beaks stretched their ugly little heads hungrily upward. "that's so pretty!" cried the prince. "and you must see the old ones come to feed them." the beautiful boy's sweet face fairly beamed with delight, and charmian kissed him tenderly. yet, even as she did so, she thought of the young swallows hacked to death in his mother's galley, and a chill ran through her veins. just at that moment voices were heard calling alexander from a neglected spot behind the dainty little house built for the children, and the boy exclaimed peevishly: "there, now, i showed you the little nest, so i forgot. agatha fell asleep and smerdis went away, so we were alone. then they sent me to horus, the gate-keeper, to get some of his spelt bread. he never says no to anything, and it does taste so good. we're peasants, and have been using the axe and the hoe, so we want something to eat. have you seen our house? we built it ourselves. selene, helios, jotape, my future wife, and i--yes, i! they let me help, and we finished it alone, all alone! everything is here. we shall build the shed for the cow to-morrow. the others mustn't see it, but i may show it to you." while speaking, he drew her forward again, and charmian obediently followed. the twins and little jotape, who had been chosen for the future bride of the six-year-old prince alexandera pretty, delicate, fair-haired child of his own age, the daughter of the median king, who had been betrothed to the boy after the parthian war, and now remained as a hostage at cleopatra's court--welcomed her with joyous shouts. with the exception of the little median princess, charmian had witnessed their birth, and they all loved her dearly. the little royal labourers showed their work with proud delight, and it really was well done. they had toiled at it for weeks, paying no heed to the garden and all its costly rarities. they pointed with special pride to the two planks which helios, aided by alexander, had fished out of the sea after the last storm, when they were left alone, and to the lock on the door which they had secretly managed to wrench from an old gate. selene herself had woven the curtain in front of the door. now they were going to build a hearth too. charmian praised their skill, while they--all talking merrily together-- told her how they had conquered the greatest difficulties. their bright eyes sparkled with pleasure while describing the work of their own hands, and they were so absorbed in eager delight that they did not notice the approach of a man until startled by his words: "enough of this idle sport now, your highnesses. too much time has already been wasted on it." then, turning to the queen, who had accompanied him, he continued in a tone of apology: "this amusement might seem somewhat hazardous, yet there is much to be said in its favour. besides, it appeared to afford the royal children so much pleasure that i permitted it for a short time. but if your majesty commands: "let them have their pleasure," the queen interrupted kindly; and as soon as the children saw their mother they rushed forward, crowded around her with fearless love, thanked her, and eagerly assured her that nothing in the whole garden was half so dear to them as their little house. they meant to build a stable too. "that might be too much," said the tutor euphronion, a grey-haired man with a shrewd, kindly face. "we must remember how many things are yet to be learned, that we may reach the goal fixed for your majesty's birthday and pass the examination." but all the children now joined in the entreaty to be allowed to build the stable too, and it was granted. when the tutor at last began to lead them away, the royal mother stopped them, asking "suppose, instead of this garden, i should give you a bit of bare land, such as the peasants till, where, after your lessons, you might dig and build as much as you please?" loud shouts of joy from the children answered the question; but the little median girl, jotape, said hesitatingly: "could i take my doll too--only the oldest, atossa? she has lost one arm, yet i love her the best." "deprive us of anything you choose!" cried helios, drawing little alexander towards him, to show that they, the men, were of the same mind, "only give us some ground and let us build." "we will consider whether it can be done," replied cleopatra. "perhaps, euphronion, you would be the right person--but we will discuss the matter at a more quiet hour." the tutor withdrew and the children, who followed, looked back, waving their hands and calling to their mother for a long time. when they had disappeared behind the shrubbery in the garden charmian exclaimed, "however dark the sky may be, so long as you possess these little ones you can never lack sunshine." "if," replied cleopatra, gazing pensively at the ground, "with a thought of them another did not blend which makes the gloom become deeper still. you know the tidings this terrible day has brought?" "all," replied charmian, sighing heavily. "then you know the abyss on whose verge we are walking; and to see them-- them also dragged into the yawning gulf by their unhappy mother-- oh, charmian, charmian!" she sobbed aloud, threw her arms around the neck of her friend and playfellow, and laid her head upon her bosom like a child seeking consolation. cleopatra wept for several minutes, and when she again raised her tear-stained face she said softly: "that did me good! o, charmian! no one needs love as i do. on your warm heart my own has already grown calmer." "use it, nestle there whenever you need it, to the end," cried charmian, deeply moved. "to the end," repeated cleopatra, wiping her eyes. "it began to-day, i think. i have just spent an hour alone. i meant to commit a crime, and you know how impatiently passion sweeps me along. but what misfortunes have assailed me! the army destroyed; the desertion of herod and pinarius; antony's generous, trusting heart torn by base treachery, his soul darkened; the reconstruction of the canal, the last hope--gorgias brought the news--the same as destroyed. just then little alexander came to show me his bird's nest. everything else in the garden seemed to him worthless by comparison. this awakened new thoughts, and now here is the little house which the children have built with their own hands. all these things forced me by some mysterious power to look back along the course of my life to the distant days in your father's house--i--these children! upon what different foundations our lives have been built! i made them begin at the point i had gained when youth lay behind me. my childhood commenced among the disorders of the government, clouded by my father's exile and my mother's death, on the brink of ruin. that of the twins--they are ten years old--will soon be over--and now, after enjoying pleasures not one of which was bestowed on me, they must endure the same sorrow. but did not we have better ones? what they daily possessed we only dreamed of in our simple garden. how often i let you share the radiant visions which my soul revealed to me! you willingly accompanied me into the splendid fairy world of my dreams. all that my imagination conjured up during the years of quiet and repose accompanied me into my after-life. again and again i have beheld them, rich and powerful, upon the throne. the means of rendering the vision a varity were at hand; and when i met the man whose own life resembled the realization of a dream, i recalled those childish fancies and made them facts. the marvels with which i adorned my lover's existence were childish dreams to which i gave tangible form. this garden is an image of the life to which i intended to rise; in reality, fell. we collected within the limits of this bit of earth everything which can delight the senses; not a single one is omitted in this narrow space, whose crowded maze of pleasures fairly impede freedom of movement. yet in your home, and guided by your wise father, i had learned to be content with so little, and commenced the struggle to attain peace. that painless peace --our chief good--whence came it? through me it was lost to you both but the children--i made them begin their lives in an arena of every disturbing influence; and now i see how their own healthy natures yearn to escape from the dazzling wealth of colour, the stupefying fragrance, the bewildering songs and twittering. they long to return to the untilled earth, where the life of struggling mortals began. "the boy casts away the baubles, to test his own creative powers. the girl follows his example, and clings fast only to the doll in which she sees the living child, in order to do justice to the maternal instinct, the token of her sex. but what they so eagerly desire is right, and shall be granted. when i was ten years old, like the twins, my life and efforts were already directed towards one fixed goal. they are still blindly following the objects set before them. let them return to the place whence their mother started, where she received everything good which is still hers. they shall go to the garden of epicurus, no matter whether it is the old one in kanopus or elsewhere. all that their mother beheld in vivid dreams, which she often strove with wanton extravagance to realize, has surrounded them from their birth and early satiated them. when they enter life, they will scorn what merely stirs and dazzles the senses, and cling to the aspiration for painless peace of mind, if a wise guide directs them and protects them from the dangers which the teachings of epicurus contain for youth. i have found this guide, and you, too, will trust him--i mean your brother archibius." "archibius?" asked charmian in surprise. "yes, he who grew up in the garden of epicurus, and in life and philosophy found the support which has preserved his peace of mind during all the conflicts of existence-- he who loves the mother, and to whom the children are also dear-- he to whom the boys and girls cling with affectionate confidence. i wish to place the children under his protection and, if he will consent to grant this desire of the most hapless of women, i shall look forward calmly to the end. it is approaching! i feel, i know it! gorgias is already at work upon the plan for my tomb." "o my queen!" cried charmian sorrowfully. whatever may happen, your illustrious life cannot be in danger! the generous heart of mark antony does not throb in octavianus's breast, but he is not cruel, and for the very reason that cool calculation curbs ambition he will spare you. he knows that you are the idol of the city, the whole country; and if he really succeeds in adding fresh victories to this first conquest, if the immortals permit your throne and--may they avert it!--your sacred person, too, to fall into his power--" "then," cried cleopatra, her clear eyes flashing, "then he shall learn which of us two is the greater--then i shall know how to maintain the right to despise him, though blind fate should make the whole power of the world subject to him who robbed my son and caesar's of his heritage!" her eyes had blazed with anger as she uttered the words; then, letting her little clenched hand fall, she went on in an altered tone: "months may pass before he is strong enough to risk the attack, and the immortals themselves approved the erection of the monument. the only obstacle in the way, the house of the old philosopher didymus, was destroyed. a messenger from gorgias brought the news. it is to be the second monument in alexandria worthy of notice. the other contains the body of the great alexander, to whom the city owes its origin and name. he who subjected half the world to his power and the genius of the greeks, was younger than i when he died. whence do i, by whose miserable weakness the battle of actium was lost, derive the right to walk longer beneath the sun? perhaps mark antony will arrive in a few hours." "and will you meet the disheartened hero in this mood?" interrupted charmian. "he does not wish to be received," answered cleopatra bitterly. "he even refused to let me greet him, and i understand the denial. but what must have overwhelmed this joyous nature, so friendly to all mankind, that he longs for solitude and avoids meeting those who are nearest and dearest? iras is now at the choma--whither he wishes to retire--to see that everything is in order. she will also provide a supply of the flowers he loves. it is hard, cruelly hard, not to welcome him as usual. oh, charmian, what joy it was when, with open arms and overflowing heart, he swung his mighty figure ashore like a youth, while his handsome, heroic face beamed with ardent love for me! and then--you do not forget it either--when he raised his deep voice to shout the first greeting, why, it seemed as if the very fish in the water must join in, and the palm-trees on the shore wave their feathery tops in joyous sympathy. and here! the dreams of my childhood, which i made reality for him, received us, and our existence, wreathed with love and roses, became a fairy tale. since the day he rode towards us at kanopus and offered me the first bouquet, with his sunny glance wooing my love, his image has stood before my soul as the embodiment of the virile strength which conquers everything, and the bright, undimmed joy which renders the whole world happy. and now--now? do you remember the dull dreamer whom we left ere he set forth for paraetonium? but no, no, a thousand times no, he must not remain so! not with bowed head, but erect as in the days of happiness, must he cross the threshold of hades, hand in hand with her whom he loved. and he does love me still. else would he have followed me hither, though no magic goblet drew him after me? and i? the heart which, in the breast of the child, gave him its first young love, is still his, and will be forever. might i not go to the harbour and await him there? look me in the face, charmian, and answer me as fearlessly as a mirror: did olympus really succeed in effacing the wrinkles?" "they were scarcely visible before," was the reply, "and even the keenest eye could no longer discover them. i have brought the pomade, too, and the prescription olympus gave me for--" "hush, hush!" interrupted cleopatra softly. "there are many living creatures in this garden, and they say that even the birds are good listeners." a roguish smile deepened the dimples in her cheeks as she spoke, and delight in her bewitching grace forced from charmian's lips the exclamation: "if mark antony could only see you now!" "flatterer!" replied the queen with a grateful smile. but charmian felt that the time had now come to plead once more for barine, and she began eagerly: "no, i certainly do not flatter. no one in alexandria, no matter what name she bears, could venture to vie even remotely with your charms. so cease the persecution of the unfortunate woman whom you confided to my care. it is an insult to cleopatra--" but here an indignant "again!" interrupted her. cleopatra's face, which during the conversation had mirrored every emotion of a woman's soul, from the deepest sorrow to the most mischievous mirth, assumed an expression of repellent harshness, and, with the curt remark, "you are forgetting what i had good reason to forbid--i must go to my work," she turned her back upon the companion of her youth. etext editor's bookmarks: see facts as they are and treat them like figures in a sum this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] cleopatra by georg ebers volume . chapter xii. barine had been an hour in the palace. the magnificently furnished room to which she was conducted was directly above the council chamber, and sometimes, in the silence of the night, the voice of the queen or the loud cheers of men were distinctly heard. barine listened without making the slightest effort to catch the meaning of the words which reached her ears. she longed only for something to divert her thoughts from the deep and bitter emotion which filled her soul. ay, she was roused to fury, and yet she felt how completely this passionate resentment contradicted her whole nature. true, the shameless conduct of philostratus during their married life had often stirred the inmost depths of her placid, kindly spirit, and after wards his brother alexas had come to drive her, by his disgraceful proposals, to the verge of despair; rage was added to the passionate agitation of her soul, and for this she had cause to rejoice--but for this mighty resentment during the time of struggle she might have, perhaps, succumbed from sheer weariness and the yearning desire to rest. at last, at last, she and her friends, by means of great sacrifices, had succeeded in releasing her from these tortures. philostratus's consent to liberate her was purchased. alexas's persecution had ceased long before; he had first been sent away as envoy by his patron antony, and afterwards been compelled to accompany him to the war. how she had enjoyed the peaceful days in her mother's house! how quickly the bright cheerfulness which she had supposed lost had returned to her soul!--and to-day fate had blessed her with the greatest happiness life had ever offered. true, she had had only a few brief hours in which to enjoy it, for the attack of the unbridled boys and the wound inflicted upon her lover had cast a heavy shadow on her bliss. her mother had again proved to be in the right when she so confidently predicted a second misfortune which would follow the first only too soon. barine had been torn at midnight from her peaceful home and her wounded lover's bedside. this was done by the queen's command, and, full of angry excitement, she said to herself that the men were right who cursed tyranny because it transformed free human beings into characterless chattels. there could be nothing good awaiting her; that was proved by the messengers whom cleopatra had sent to summon her at this unprecedented hour. they were her worst enemies: iras, who desired to wed her lover-- dion had told her so after the assault--and alexas, whose suit she had rejected in a way which a man never forgives. she had already learned iras's feelings. the slender figure with the narrow head, long, delicate nose, small chin, and pointed fingers, seemed to her like a long, sharp thorn. this strange comparison had entered her head as iras stood rigidly erect, reading aloud in a shrill, high voice the queen's command. everything about this hard, cold face appeared as sharp as a sting, and ready to destroy her. her removal from her mother's house to the royal palace had been swift and simple. after the attack--of which she saw little, because, overpowered by fear and horror, she closed her eyes--she had driven home with her lover, where the leech had bandaged his injuries, and berenike had quickly and carefully transformed her own sleeping chamber into a sick-room. barine, after changing her dress, did not leave dion's side. she had attired herself carefully, for she knew his delight in outward adornment. when she returned from her grandparents, before sunset, she was alone with him, and he, kissing her arm, had murmured that wherever the greek tongue was spoken there was not one more beautiful. the gem was worthy of its loveliness. so she had opened her baggage to take out the circlet which antony had given, and it again enclasped her arm when she entered the sick-room. because dion had told her that he deemed her fairest in the simple white robe she had worn a few days before, when there were no guests save himself and gorgias, and she had sung until after midnight his favourite songs as though all were intended for him alone, her choice had fallen upon this garment. and she rejoiced that she had worn it--the wounded man's eyes rested upon her so joyously when she sat down opposite to him. the physician had forbidden him to talk, and urged him to sleep if possible. so barine only held his hand in silence, whispering, whenever he opened his eyes, a tender word of love and encouragement. she had remained with him for hours, leaving her place at his side merely to give him his medicine, or, with her mother's aid, place poultices on his wounds. when his manly face was distorted by suffering, she shared his pain; but during most of the time a calm, pleasant sense of happiness pervaded her mind. she felt safe and sheltered in the possession of the man whom she loved, though fully aware of the perils which threatened him, and, perhaps, her also. but the assurance of his love completely filled her heart and cast every care entirely into the shade. many men had seemed estimable and agreeable, a few even desirable husbands, but dion was the first to awaken love in her ardent but by no means passionate soul. she regarded the experiences of the past few days as a beautiful miracle. how she had yearned and pined until the most fervent desire of her heart was fulfilled! now dion had offered her his love, and nothing could rob her of it. gorgias and the sons of her uncle arius had disturbed her a short time. after they had gone with a good report, berenike had entreated her daughter to lie down and let her take her place. but barine would not leave her lover's couch, and had just loosed her hair to brush it again and fasten the thick, fair braids around her head, when, two hours after midnight, some one knocked loudly on the window shutters. berenike was in the act of removing the poultice, so barine herself went into the atrium to wake the doorkeeper. but the old man was not asleep, and had anticipated her. she recognized, with a low cry of terror, the first person who entered the lighted vestibule--alexas. iras followed, her head closely muffled, for the storm was still howling through the streets. last of all a lantern- bearer crossed the threshold. the syrian saluted the startled young beauty with a formal bow, but iras, without a greeting or even a single word of preparation, delivered the queen's command, and then read aloud, by the light of the lantern, what cleopatra had scrawled upon the wax tablet. when barine, pallid and scarcely able to control her emotion, requested the messengers who had arrived at so late an hour to enter, in order to give her time to prepare for the night drive and take leave of her mother, iras vouchsafed no reply, but, as if she had the right to rule the house, merely ordered the doorkeeper to bring his mistress's cloak without delay. while the old man, with trembling knees, moved away, iras asked if the wounded dion was in the dwelling; and barine, her self-control restored by the question, answered, with repellent pride, that the queen's orders did not command her to submit to an examination in her own house. iras shrugged her shoulders and said, sneeringly, to alexas: "in truth, i asked too much. one who attracts so many men of all ages can scarcely be expected to know the abode of each individual." "the heart has a faithful memory," replied the syrian in a tone of correction, but iras echoed, contemptuously, "the heart!" then all were silent until, instead of the doorkeeper, berenike herself came hurrying in, bringing the cloak. with pallid face and bloodless lips she wrapped it around her daughter's shoulders, whispering, amid floods of tears, almost inaudible words of love and encouragement, which iras interrupted by requesting barine to follow her to the carriage. the mother and daughter embraced and kissed each other, then the closed equipage bore the persecuted woman through the storm and darkness to lochias. not a word was exchanged between barine and the queen's messengers until they reached the room where the former was to await cleopatra; but here iras again endeavoured to induce her to speak. at the first question, however, barine answered that she had no information to give. the room was as bright as if it were noonday, though the lights flickered constantly, for the wind found its way through the thin shutters closing the windows on both sides of the corner room, and a strong, cold draught swept in. barine wrapped her cloak more closely around her; the storm which howled about the sea-washed palace harmonized with the vehement agitation of her soul. whether she had looked within or without, there was nothing which could have soothed her save the assurance of being loved--an assurance that held fear at bay. now, indignation prevented dread from overpowering her, yet calm consideration could not fail to show her that danger threatened on every hand. the very manner in which iras and alexas whispered together, without heeding her presence, boded peril, for courtiers show such contempt only to those whom they know are threatened with the indifference or resentment of the sovereign. barine, during her married life with a man devoid of all delicacy of feeling, and with a disposition as evil as his tongue was ready, had learned to endure many things which were hard to bear; yet when, after a remark from iras evidently concerning her, she heard alexas laugh, she was compelled to exert the utmost self-restraint to avoid telling her enemy how utterly she despised the cowardly cruelty of her conduct. but she succeeded in keeping silent. still, the painful constraint she imposed on herself must find vent in some way, and, as the tortured anguish of her soul reached its height, large tears rolled down her cheeks. these, too, were noticed by her enemy and made the target of her wit; but this time the sarcasm failed to produce its effect upon the syrian, for, instead of laughing, he grew grave, and whispered something which seemed to barine a reproof or a warning. iras's reply was merely a contemptuous shrug of the shoulders. barine had noticed long before that her mother, in her fear and bewilderment, had brought her own cloak instead of her daughter's, and this circumstance also did not seem to her foe too trivial for a sneer. but the childish insolence that seemed to have taken possession of one who usually by no means lacked dignity, was merely the mask beneath which she concealed her own suffering. a grave motive was the source of the mirth by which she affected to be moved at the sight of her enemy's cloak. the grey, ill-fitting garment disfigured barine, and she desired that the queen should feel confident of surpassing her rival even in outward charms. no one, not even cleopatra, could dispense with a protecting wrap in this cold draught, and nothing suited her better than the purple mantle in whose delicate woollen fabric black and gold dragons and griffins were embroidered. iras had taken care that it lay ready. barine could not fail to appear like a beggar in comparison, though alexas said that her blue kerchief was marvellously becoming. he was a base-minded voluptuary, who, aided by rich gifts of mind and wide knowledge, had shunned no means of ingratiating himself with antony, the most lavish of patrons. the repulse which this man, accustomed to success, had received from barine had been hard to forget, yet he did not resign the hope of winning her. never had she seemed more desirable than in her touching weakness. even base natures are averse to witnessing the torture of the defenceless, and when iras had aimed another poisoned shaft at her, he ventured, at the risk of vexing his ally, to say, under his breath: "condemned criminals are usually granted, before their end, a favourite dish. i have no cause to wish barine anything good; but i would not grudge that. you, on the contrary, seem to delight in pouring wormwood on her last mouthful." "certainly," she answered, her eyes sparkling brightly. "malice is the purest of pleasures; at least to me, when exercised on this woman." the syrian, with a strange smile, held out his hand, saying: "keep your good-will towards me, iras." "because," she retorted with a sneer, "evil may follow my enmity. i think so, too. i am not especially sensitive concerning myself, but whoever dares"--here she raised her voice--"to harm one whom i--just listen to the cheers! how she carries all hearts with her! though fate had made her a beggar, she would still be peerless among women. she is like the sun. the clouds which intrude upon her pathway of radiance are consumed and disappear." while uttering the last sentence she had turned towards barine, whose ear the sharp voice again pierced like a thorn, as she commanded her to prepare for the examination. almost at the same moment the door, caught by the wind, closed with a loud bang. the "introducer"--[marshal of the court.]--had opened it, and, after a hasty glance, exclaimed: "the audience will not be given in this meeting place for all the winds of heaven! her majesty desires to receive her late visitor in the hall of shells." with these words he bowed courteously to barine, and ushered her and her two companions through several corridors and apartments into a well- heated anteroom. here even the windows were thoroughly protected from the storm. several body-guards and pages belonging to the corps of the "royal boys" stood waiting to receive them. "this is comfortable." said alexas, turning to iras. "was the winter we have just experienced intended to fill us with twofold gratitude for the delights of the mild spring in this blessed room?" "perhaps so," she answered sullenly, and then added in a low tone: "here at lochias the seasons do not follow their usual course. they change according to the pleasure of the supreme will. instead of four, the egyptians, as you know, have but three; in the palaces on the nile they are countless. what is the meaning of this sudden entry of summer? winter would have pleased me better." the queen--iras knew not why--had changed her arrangements for barine's reception. this vexed her, and her features assumed a gloomy, threatening expression as the young beauty, casting aside her cloak and kerchief, stood awaiting cleopatra in a white robe of fine material and perfect fit. the thick, fair braids, wound simply around her shapely head, gave her an appearance of almost childish youth, and the sight made iras feel as if she, and cleopatra also, were outwitted. in the dimly lighted atrium of the house near the paneum garden, she had noticed only that barine wore something white. had it been merely a night robe, so much the better. but she might have appeared in her present garb at the festival of isis. the most careful deliberation could have selected nothing more suitable or becoming. and did this vain woman go to rest with costly gold ornaments? else how did the circlet chance to be on her arm? each of cleopatra's charms seemed to iras, who knew them all, like a valuable possession of her own. to see even the least of them surpassed by another vexed her; and to behold in yonder woman a form which she could not deny was no less beautiful, enraged, nay, pierced her to the heart. since she had known that because of barine she could hope for nothing more from the man to whose love she believed she possessed a claim dating from their childhood, she had hated the young beauty. and now to the many things which contributed to increase her hostile mood, was added the disagreeable consciousness that during the last few hours she had treated her contemptibly. had she only seen earlier what her foe's cloak concealed, she would have found means to give her a different appearance. but she must remain as she was; for chairman had already entered. other hours, however, would follow, and if the next did not decide the fate of the woman whom she hated, future ones should. for this purpose she did not need the aid of charmian, her uncle archibius's sister, who had hitherto been a beloved associate and maternal friend. but what had happened? iras fancied that her pleasant features wore a repellent expression which she had never seen before. was this also the singer's fault? and what was the cause? the older woman's manner decided the question whether she should still bestow upon her returned relative the love of a grateful niece. no, she would no longer put any restraint upon herself. charmian should feel that she (iras) considered any favour shown to her foe an insult. to work against her secretly was not in her nature. she had courage to show an enemy her aversion, and she did not fear charmian enough to pursue a different course. she knew that the artist leonax, barine's father, had been charmian's lover; but this did not justify her favouring the woman who had robbed her niece of the heart of the man whom she--as charmian knew--had loved from childhood. charmian had just had a long conversation with her brother, and had also learned in the palace that barine had been summoned to the queen's presence in the middle of the night; so, firmly persuaded that evil was intended to the young woman who had already passed through so many agitating scenes of joy and sorrow, she entered the waiting-room, and her pleasant though no longer youthful face, framed in smooth, grey hair, was greeted by barine as the shipwrecked mariner hails the sight of land. all the emotions which had darkened and embittered her soul were soothed. she hastened towards her friend's sister, as a frightened child seeks its mother, and charmian perceived what was stirring in her heart. it would not do, under existing circumstances, to kiss her in the palace, but she drew leonax's daughter towards her to show iras that she was ready to extend a protecting hand over the persecuted woman. but barine gazed at her with pleading glances, beseeching aid, whispering amid her tears: "help me, charmian. she has tortured, insulted, humiliated me with looks and words--so cruelly, so spitefully! help me; i can bear no more." charmian shook her kind head and urged her in a whisper to calm herself. she had robbed iras of her lover; she should remember that. cost what it might, she must not shed another tear. the queen was gracious. she, charmian, would aid her. everything would depend on showing herself to cleopatra as she was, not as slander represented her. she must answer her as she would archibius or herself. the kindly woman, as she spoke, stroked her brow and eyes with maternal tenderness, and barine felt as if goodness itself had quelled the tempest in her soul. she gazed around her as though roused from a troubled dream, and now for the first time perceived the richly adorned room in which she stood, the admiring glances of the boys in the macedonian corps of pages, and the bright fire blazing cheerily on the hearth. the howling of the storm increased the pleasant sense of being under a firm roof, and iras, who had whispered to the "introducer" at the door, no longer seemed like a sharp thorn or a spiteful demon, but a woman by no means destitute of charm, who repulsed her, but on whom she had inflicted the keenest pang a woman's heart can suffer. then she again thought of her wounded lover at home, and remembered that, whatever might happen, his heart did not belong to iras, but to her alone. lastly, she recalled archibius's description of cleopatra's childhood, and this remembrance was followed by the conviction that the omnipotent sovereign would be neither cruel nor unjust, and that it would depend upon herself to win her favour. charmian, too, was the queen's confidante; and if the manner of iras and alexas had alarmed her, charmian's might well inspire confidence. all these thoughts darted through her brain with the speed of lightning. only a brief time for consideration remained; for, even as she bowed her head on the bosom of her friend, the "introducer" entered the room, crying, "her illustrious majesty will expect those whom she summoned in a few minutes!" soon after a chamberlain appeared, waving a fan of ostrich feathers and, preceded by the court official, they passed through several brilliantly lighted, richly furnished rooms. barine again breathed freely and moved with head erect; and when the wide, lofty folding doors of ebony, against whose deep black surface the inlaid figures of tritons, mermaids, shells, fish, and sea monsters were sharply relieved, she beheld a glittering, magnificent scene, for the hall which cleopatra had chosen for her reception was completely covered with various marine forms, from the shells to coral and starfish. a wide, lofty structure, composed of masses of stalactites and unhewn blocks of stone, formed a deep grotto at the end of the hall, whence peered the gigantic head of a monster whose open jaws formed the fireplace of the chimney. logs of fragrant arabian wood were blazing brightly on the hearth, and the dragon's ruby glass eyes diffused a red light through the apartment which, blended with the rays of the white and pink lamps in the shape of lotus flowers fastened among gold and silver tendrils and groups of sedges on the walls and ceiling, filling the spacious apartment with the soft light whose roseate hue was specially becoming to cleopatra's waxen complexion. several stewards and cup-bearers, the master of the hunt, chamberlains, female attendants, eunuchs, and other court officials were awaiting the queen, and pages who belonged to the macedonian cadet corps of royal boys stood sleepily, with drooping heads, around the small throne of gold, coral, and amber which, placed opposite to the chimney, awaited the sovereign. barine had already seen this magnificent hall, and others still more beautiful in the sebasteum, and the splendour therefore neither excited nor abashed her; only she would fain have avoided the numerous train of courtiers. could it be cleopatra's intention to question her before the eyes of all these men, women, and boys? she no longer felt afraid, but her heart still throbbed quickly. it had beat in the same way in her girlhood, when she was asked to sing in the presence of strangers. at last she heard doors open, and an invisible hand parted the heavy curtains at her right. she expected to see the regent, the keeper of the seal, and the whole brilliantly adorned train of attendants who always surrounded the queen on formal occasions, enter the magnificent hall. else why had it been selected as the scene of this nocturnal trial? but what was this? while she was still recalling the display at the adonis festival, the curtains began to close again. the courtiers around the throne straightened their bowed figures, the pages forgot their fatigue, and all joined in the greek salutation of welcome, and the "life! happiness! health!" with which the egyptians greeted their sovereign. the woman of middle height who now appeared before the curtain, and who, as she crossed the wide hall alone and unattended, seemed to barine even smaller than when surrounded by the gay throng at the adonis festival, must be the queen. ay, it was she! iras was already standing by her side, and charmian was approaching with the "introducer." the women rendered her various little services thus iras took from her shoulders the purple mantle, with its embroidery of black and gold dragons. what an exquisite masterpiece of the loom it must be! all the dangers against which she must defend herself flashed swiftly through barine's mind; yet, for an instant, she felt the foolish feminine desire to see and handle the costly mantle. but iras had already laid it on the arm of one of the waiting maids, and cleopatra now glanced around her, and with a youthful, elastic step approached the throne. once more the feeling of timidity which she had had in her girlhood overpowered barine, but with it came the memory of the garden of epicurus, and archibius's assurance that she, too, would have left the queen with her heart overflowing with warm enthusiasm had not a disturbing influence interposed between them. yet, had this disturbing influence really existed? no. it was created solely by cleopatra's jealous imagination. if she would only permit her to speak freely now, she should hear that antony cared as little for her as she, barine, for the boy caesarion. what prevented her from confessing that her heart was another's? iras had no one to blame save herself if she spoke the truth pitilessly in her presence. cleopatra now turned to the "introducer," waving her hand towards the throne and those who surrounded it. ay, she was indeed beautiful. how bright and clear was the light of her large eyes, in spite of the harassing days through which she had passed and the present night of watching! cleopatra's heart was still elated by the reception of her bold idea of escape, and she approached barine with gentler feelings and intentions. she had chosen a pleasanter room for the interview than the one iras had selected. she desired a special environment to suit each mood, and as soon as she saw the group of courtiers who surrounded the throne she ordered their dismissal. the "introducer," to carry out the usual ceremonial, had commanded their presence in the audience chamber, but their attendance had given the meeting a form which was now distasteful to the queen. she wished to question, not to condemn. at so happy an hour it was a necessity of her nature to be gracious. perhaps she had been unduly anxious concerning this singer. it even seemed probable; for a man who loved her like antony could scarcely yearn for the favour of another woman. this view had been freshly confirmed by a brief conversation with the chief inspector of sacrifices, an estimable old man, who, after hearing how antony had hurried in pursuit of her at actium, raised his eyes and hands as if transported with rapture, exclaiming: "unhappy queen! yet happiest of women! no one was ever so ardently beloved; and when the tale is told of the noble trojan who endured such sore sufferings for a woman's sake, future generations will laud the woman whose resistless spell constrained the greatest man of his day, the hero of heroes, to cast aside victory, fame, and the hope of the world's sovereignty, as mere worthless rubbish." posterity, whose verdict she dreaded--this wise old reader of the future was right--must extol her as the most fervently beloved, the most desirable of women. and mark antony? even had the magic power of nektanebus's goblet forced him to follow her and to leave the battle, there still remained his will, a copy of which--received from rome--zeno, the keeper of the seal, had showed to her at the close of the council. "wherever he might die," so ran the words, "he desired to be buried by the side of cleopatra." octavianus had wrested it from the vestal virgins, to whose care it had been entrusted, in order to fill the hearts of roman citizens and matrons with indignation against his foe. the plot had succeeded, but the document had reminded cleopatra that her heart had given this man the first of its flowers, that love for him had been the sunshine of her life. so, with head erect, she had crossed the threshold where she was to meet the woman who had ventured to sow tares in her garden. she intended to devote only a short time to the interview, which she anticipated with the satisfaction of the strong who are confident of victory. as she approached the throne, her train left the hall; the only persons who remained were charmian, iras, zeno, the keeper of the seal, and the "introducer." cleopatra cast a rapid glance at the throne, to which an obsequious gesture of the courtier's hand invited her; but she remained standing, gazing keenly at barine. was it the coloured rays from the ruby eyes of the dragon in the fireplace which shed the roseate glow on cleopatra's cheeks? it certainly enhanced the beauty of a face now only too frequently pallid and colourless, when rouge did not lend its aid; but barine understood archibius's ardent admiration for this rare woman, when cleopatra, with a faint smile, requested her to approach. nothing more winning could be imagined than the frank kindness, wholly untinged by condescending pride, of this powerful sovereign. the less barine had expected such a reception the more deeply it moved her; nay, her eyes grew dim with grateful emotion, which lent them so beautiful a lustre, she looked so lovely in her glad surprise, that cleopatra thought the months which had elapsed since her first meeting with the singer had enhanced her charms. and how young she was! the queen swiftly computed the years which barine must have lived as the wife of philostratus, and afterwards as the attractive mistress of a hospitable house, and found it difficult to reconcile the appearance of this blooming young creature with the result of the calculation. she was surprised, too, to note the aristocratic bearing whose possession no one could deny the artist's daughter. this was apparent even in her dress, yet iras had roused her in the middle of the night, and certainly had given her no time for personal adornment. she had expected lack of refinement and boldness, in the woman who was said to have attracted so many men, but even the most bitter prejudice could have detected no trace of it. on the contrary, the embarrassment which she could not yet wholly subdue lent her an air of girlish timidity. all in all, barine was a charming creature, who bewitched men by her vivacity, her grace, and her exquisite voice, not by coquetry and pertness. that she possessed unusual mental endowments cleopatra did not believe. barine had only one advantage over her--youth. time had not yet robbed the former of a single charm, while from the queen he had wrested many; their number was known only to herself and her confidantes, but at this hour she did not miss them. barine, with a low, modest bow, advanced towards the queen, who commenced the conversation by graciously apologizing for the late hour at which she had summoned her. "but," she added, "you belong to the ranks of the nightingales, who during the night most readily and exquisitely reveal to us what stirs their hearts--" barine gazed silently at the floor a moment, and when she raised her eyes her voice was faint and timid. "i sing, it is true, your majesty, but i have nothing else in common with the birds. the wings which, when a child, bore me wherever i desired, have lost their strength. they do not wholly refuse their service, but they now require favourable hours to move." "i should not have expected that in the time of your youth, your most beautiful possession," replied the queen. "yet it is well. i too--how long ago it seems!--was a child, and my imagination outstripped even the flight of the eagle. it could dare the risk unpunished. now----whoever has reached mature life is wise to let these wings remain idle. the mortal who ventures to use them may easily approach too near the sun, and, like icarus, the wax will melt from his pinions. let me tell you this: to the child the gift of imagination is nourishing bread. in later years we need it only as salt, as spice, as stimulating wine. doubtless it points out many paths, and shows us their end; but, of a hundred rambles to which it summons him, scarcely one pleases the mature man. no troublesome parasite is more persistently and sharply rebuffed. who can blame the ill-treated friend if it is less ready to serve us as the years go on? the wise man will keep his ears ever open, but rarely lend it his active hand. to banish it from life is to deprive the plant of blossoms, the rose of its fragrance, the sky of its stars." "i have often said the same things to myself, though in a less clear and beautiful form, when life has been darkened," replied barine, with a faint blush; for she felt that these words were doubtless intended to warn her against cherishing too aspiring wishes. "but, your majesty, here also the gods place you, the great queen, far above us. we should often find existence bare indeed but for the fancy which endows us with imaginary possessions. you have the power to secure a thousand things which to us common mortals only the gift of imagination pictures as attainable." "you believe that happiness is like wealth, and that the happiest person is the one who receives the largest number of the gifts of fortune," answered the queen. "the contrary, i think, can be easily proved. the maxim that the more we have the less we need desire, is also false, though in this world there are only a certain number of desirable things. he who already possesses one of ten solidi which are to be divided, ought really to desire only nine, and therefore would be poorer by a wish than another who has none. true, it cannot be denied that the gods have burdened or endowed me with a greater number of perishable gifts than you and many others. you seem to set a high value upon them. doubtless there may be one or another which you could appropriate only by the aid of the imagination. may i ask which seems to you the most desirable?" "spare me the choice, i beseech you," replied barine in an embarrassed tone. "i need nothing from your treasures, and, as for the other possessions i lack many things; but it is uncertain how the noblest and highest gifts in the possession of the marvellously endowed favourite of the gods would suit the small, commonplace ones i call mine, and i know not--" "a sensible doubt!" interrupted the queen. "the lame man, who desired a horse, obtained one, and on his first ride broke his neck. the only blessing--the highest of all--which surely bestows happiness can neither be given away nor transferred from one to another. he who has gained it may be robbed of it the next moment." the last sentence had fallen from the queen's lips slowly and thoughtfully, but barine, remembering archibius's tale, said modestly, "you are thinking of the chief good mentioned by epicurus--perfect peace of mind." cleopatra's eyes sparkled with a brighter light as she asked eagerly, "do you, the granddaughter of a philosopher, know the system of the master?" "very superficially, your majesty. my intellect is far inferior to yours. it is difficult for me thoroughly to comprehend all the details of any system of philosophy." "yet you have attempted it?" "others endeavoured to introduce me into the doctrines of the stoics. i have forgotten most of what i learned; only one thing lingered in my memory, and i know why--because it pleased me." "and that?" "was the wise law of living according to the dictates of our own natures. the command to shun everything contradictory to the simple fundamental traits of our own characters pleased me, and wherever i saw affectation, artificiality, and mannerism i was repelled, while from my grandfather's teaching i drew the principle that i could do nothing better than to remain, so far as life would permit, what i had been as a child ere i had heard the first word of philosophy, or felt the constraint which society and its forms impose." "so the system of the stoics leads to this end also!" cried the queen gaily, and, turning to the companion of her own studies, she added: "did you hear, charmian? if we had only succeeded in perceiving the wisdom and calm, purposeful order of existence which the stoics, amid so much that is perverse, unhealthy, and provocative of contradiction, nevertheless set above everything else! how can i, in order to live wisely, imitate nature, when in her being and action i encounter so much that is contradictory to my human reason, which is a part of the divine?" here she hesitated, and the expression of her face suddenly changed. she had advanced close to barine and, while standing directly in front of her, her eyes had rested on the gem which adorned her arm above the elbow. was it this which agitated cleopatra so violently that her voice lost its bewitching melody, as she went on in a harsh, angry tone?--"so that is the source of all this misfortune. even as a child i detested that sort of arbitrary judgment which passes under the mask of stern morality. there is an example! do you hear the howling of the storm? in human nature, as well as in the material world, there are tempests and volcanoes which bring destruction, and, if the original character of any individual is full of such devastating forces, like the neighbourhood of vesuvius or etna, the goal to which his impulses would lead him is clearly visible. ay, the stoic is not allowed to destroy the harmony and order of things in existence, any more than to disturb those which are established by the state. but to follow our natural impulses wherever they lead us is so perilous a venture, that whoever has the power to fix a limit to it betimes is in duty bound to do so. this power is mine, and i will use it!" then, with iron severity, she asked: "as it seems to be one of the demands of your nature, woman, to allure and kindle the hearts of all who bear the name of man, even though they have not yet donned the garb of the ephebi, so, too, you seem to appear to delight in idle ornaments. or," and as she spoke she touched barine's shoulder"--or why should you wear, during the hours of slumber, that circlet on your arm?" barine had watched with increasing anxiety the marked change in the manner and language of the queen. she now beheld a repetition of what she had experienced at the adonis festival, but this time she knew what had roused cleopatra's jealousy. she, barine, wore on her arm a gift from antony. with pallid face she strove to find a fitting answer, but ere she could do so iras advanced to the side of the incensed queen, saying: "that circlet is the counterpart of the one your august husband bestowed upon you. the singer's must also be a gift from mark antony. like every one else in the world, she deems the noble imperator the greatest man of his day. who can blame her for prizing it so highly that she does not remove it even while she sleeps?" again barine felt as if a thorn had pierced her; but though the resentment which she had previously experienced once more surged hotly within her heart, she forced herself to maintain seemly external composure, and struggled for some word in answer; but she found none suitable, and remained silent. she had told the truth. from early youth she had followed the impulses of her own nature without heeding the opinion of mortals, as the teachings of the stoics directed, and she had been allowed to do so because this nature was pure, truthful, alive to the beautiful, and, moreover, free from those unbridled, volcanic impulses to which the queen alluded. the cheerful patience of her soul had found ample satisfaction in the cultivation of her art, and in social intercourse with men who permitted her to share their own intellectual life. today she had learned that the first great passion of her heart had met with a response. now she was bound to her lover, and knew herself to be pure and guiltless, far better entitled to demand respect from sterner judges of morality than the woman who condemned her, or the spiteful iras, who had not ceased to offer her love to dion. the sorrowful feeling of being misunderstood and unjustly condemned, mingled with fear of the terrible fate to which she might be sentenced by the omnipotent sovereign, whose clear intellect was clouded by jealousy and the resentment of a mother's wounded heart, paralyzed her tongue. besides, she was confused by the angry emotion which the sight of iras awakened. twice, thrice she strove to utter a few words of explanation, defence, but her voice refused to obey her will. when charmian at last approached to encourage her, it was too late; the indignant queen had turned away, exclaiming to iras: "let her be taken back to lochias. her guilt is proved; but it does not become the injured person, the accuser, to award the punishment. this must be left to the judges before whom we will bring her." then barine once more recovered the power of speech. how dared cleopatra assert that she was convicted of a crime, without hearing her defence? as surely as she felt her own innocence she must succeed in proving it, and with this consciousness she cried out to the queen in a tone of touching entreaty: "o your majesty, do not leave me without hearing me! as truly as i believe in your justice, i can ask you to listen to me once more. do not give me up to the woman who hates me because the man whom she--" here cleopatra interrupted her. royal dignity forbade her to hear one woman's jealous accusation of another, but, with the subtle discernment with which women penetrate one another's moods, she heard in barine's piteous appeal a sincere conviction that she was too severely condemned. doubtless she also had reason to believe in iras's hate, and cleopatra knew how mercilessly she pursued those who had incurred her displeasure. she had rejected and still shuddered at her advice to remove the singer from her path; for an inner voice warned her not to burden her soul now with a fresh crime, which would disturb its peace. besides, she had at first been much attracted by this charming, winning creature; but the irritating thought that antony had bestowed the same gift upon the sovereign and the artist's daughter still so incensed her, that it taxed to the utmost her graciousness and self-control as, without addressing any special person, she exclaimed, glancing back into the hall: "this examination will be followed by another. when the time comes, the accused must appear before the judges; therefore she must remain at lochias and in custody. it is my will that no harm befalls her. you are her friend, charmian. i will place her in your charge. only"--here she raised her voice--"on pain of my anger, do not allow her by any possibility to leave the palace, even for a moment, or to hold intercourse with any person save yourself." with these words she passed out of the hall and went into her own apartments. she had turned the night into day, not only to despatch speedily matters which seemed to her to permit of no delay, but even more because, since the battle of actium, she dreaded the restless hours upon her lonely couch. they seemed endless; and though before she had remembered with pleasure the unprecedented display and magnificence with which she had surrounded her love-life with antony, she now in these hours reproached herself for having foolishly squandered the wealth of her people. the present appeared unbearable, and from the future a host of black cares pressed upon her. the following days were overcrowded with business details. half of her nights were spent in the observatory. she had not asked again for barine. on the fifth night she permitted alexas to conduct her once more to the little observatory which had been erected for her father at lochias, and antony's favourite knew how to prove that a star which had long threatened her planet was that of the woman whom she seemed to have forgotten as completely as she had ignored his former warning against this very foe. the queen denied this, but alexas eagerly continued: "the night after your return home your kindness was again displayed in its inexhaustible and--to us less noble souls--incomprehensible wealth. deeply agitated, we watched during the memorable examination the touching spectacle of the greatest heart making itself the standard by which to measure what is petty and ignoble. but ere the second trial takes place the wanderers above, who know the future, bid me warn you once more; for that woman's every look was calculated, every word had its fixed purpose, every tone of her voice was intended to produce a certain effect. whatever she said or may yet say had no other design than to deceive my royal mistress. as yet there have been no definite questions and answers. but you will have her examined, and then----what may she not make of the story of mark antony, barine, and the two armlets? perhaps it will be a masterpiece." "do you know its real history?" asked cleopatra, clasping her fingers more closely around the pencil in her hand. "if i did," replied alexas, smiling significantly, "the receiver of stolen goods should not betray the thief." "not even if the person who has been robbed--the queen--commands you to give up the dishonestly acquired possession?" "unfortunately, even then i should be forced to withhold obedience; for consider, my royal mistress, there are but two great luminaries around which my dark life revolves. shall i betray the moon, when i am sure of gaining nothing thereby save to dim the warm light of the sun?" "that means that your revelations would wound me, the sun?" "unless your lofty soul is too great to be reached by shadows which surround less noble women with an atmosphere of indescribable torture." "do you intend to render your words more attractive by the veil with which you shroud them? it is transparent, and dims the vision very little. my soul, you think, should be free from jealousy and the other weaknesses of my sex. there you are mistaken. i am a woman, and wish to remain one. as terence's chremes says he is a human being, and nothing human is unknown to him, i do not hesitate to confess all feminine frailties. anubis told me of a queen in ancient times who would not permit the inscriptions to record 'she,' but 'he came,' or 'he, the ruler, conquered.' fool! whatever concerns me, my womanhood is not less lofty than the crown. i was a woman ere i became queen. the people prostrate themselves before my empty litters; but when, in my youth, i wandered in disguise with antony through the city streets and visited some scene of merrymaking, while the men gazed admiringly at me, and we heard voices behind us murmur, 'a handsome couple!' i returned home full of joy and pride. but there was something greater still for the woman to learn, when the heart in the breast of the queen forgot throne and sceptre and, in the hours consecrated to eros, tasted joys known to womanhood alone. how can you men, who only command and desire, understand the happiness of sacrifice? i am a woman; my birth does not exalt me above any feeling of my sex; and what i now ask is not as queen but as woman." "if that is the case," alexas answered with his hand upon his heart, "you impose silence upon me; for were i to confess to the woman cleopatra what agitates my soul, i should be guilty of a double crime--i would violate a promise and betray the friend who confided his noble wife to my protection." "now the darkness is becoming too dense for me," replied cleopatra, raising her head with repellent pride. "or, if i choose to raise the veil, i must point out to you the barriers-- "which surround the queen," replied the syrian with an obsequious bow. "there you behold the fact. it is an impossibility to separate the woman from the princess. so far as i am concerned, i do not wish to anger the former against the presumptuous adorer, and i desire to yield to the latter the obedience which is her due. therefore i entreat you to forget the armlet and its many painful associations, and pass to the consideration of other matters. perhaps the fair barine will voluntarily confess everything, and even add how she managed to ensnare the amiable son of the greatest of men, and the most admirable of mothers, the young king caesarion." cleopatra's eyes flashed more brightly, and she angrily exclaimed: "i found the boy just now as though he were possessed by demons. he was ready to tear the bandage from his wound, if he were refused the woman whom he loved. a magic potion was the first thought, and his tutor of course attributes everything to magic arts. charmian, on the contrary, declares that his visits annoyed and even alarmed barine. nothing except a rigid investigation can throw light upon this subject. we will await the imperator's return. do you think that he will again seek the singer? you are his most trusted confidant. if you desire his best good, and care for my favour, drop your hesitation and answer this question." the syrian assumed the manner of a man who had reached a decision, and answered firmly: "certainly he will, unless you prevent him. the simplest way would be--" "well?" "to inform him, as soon as he lands, that she is no longer to be found. i should be especially happy to receive this commission from my royal sun." "and do you think it would dim the light of your moon a little, were he to seek her here in vain?" "as surely as that the contrary would be the case if he were always as gratefully aware of the peerless brilliancy of his sun as it deserves. helios suffers no other orb to appear so long as he adorns the heavens. his lustre quenches all the rest. let my sun so decree, and barine's little star will vanish." "enough! i know your aim now. but a human life is no small thing, and this woman, too, is the child of a mother. we must consider, earnestly consider, whether our purpose cannot be gained without proceeding to extremes. this must be done with zeal and a kindly intention--but i-- now, when the fate of this country, my own, and the children's is hanging in the balance, when i have not fifteen minutes at my command, and there is no end of writing and consulting, i can waste no time on such matters." "the reflective mind must be permitted to use its mighty wings unimpeded," cried the syrian eagerly. "leave the settlement of minor matters to trustworthy friends." here they were interrupted by the "introducer," who announced the eunuch mardion. he had come on business which, spite of the late hour, permitted no delay. alexas accompanied the queen to the tablinum, where they found the eunuch. a slave attended him, carrying a pouch filled with letters which had just been brought by two messengers from syria. among them were some which must be answered without delay. the keeper of the seal and the exegetus were also waiting. their late visit was due to the necessity of holding a conference in relation to the measures to be adopted to calm the excited citizens. all the galleys which had escaped from the battle had entered the harbour the day before, wreathed with garlands as if a great victory had been won. loud acclamations greeted them, yet tidings of the defeat at actium spread with the swiftness of the wind. crowds were now gathering, threatening demonstrations had been made in front of the sebasteum, and on the square of the serapeum the troops had been compelled to interfere, and blood had flowed. there lay the letters. zeno remarked that more papers conferring authority were required for the work on the canal, and the exegetus earnestly besought definite instruction. "it is much--much," murmured cleopatra. then, drawing herself up to her full height, she exclaimed, "well, then, to work!" but alexas did not permit her to do this at once. humbly advancing as she took her seat at the large writing-table, he whispered: "and with all this, must my royal mistress devote time and thought to the destroyer of her peace. to disturb your majesty with this trifle is a crime; yet it must be committed, for should the affair remain unheeded longer, the trickling rivulet may become a mountain torrent--" here cleopatra, whose glance had just rested upon a fateful letter from king herod, turned her face half towards her husband's favourite, exclaiming curtly, with glowing cheeks, "presently." "then she glanced rapidly over the letter, pushed it excitedly aside, and dismissed the waiting syrian with the impatient words: "attend to the trial and the rest. no injustice, but no untimely mildness. i will look into this unpleasant matter myself before the imperator returns." "and the authority?" asked the syrian, with another low bow. "you have it. if you need a written one, apply to zeno. we will discuss the affair further at some less busy hour." the syrian retired; but cleopatra turned to the eunuch and, flushed with emotion, cried, pointing to the king of judea's letter: "did you ever witness baser ingratitude? the rats think the ship is sinking, and it is time to leave it. if we succeed in keeping above water, they will return in swarms; and this must, must, must be done, for the sake of this beloved country and her independence. then the children, the children! all our powers must now be taxed, every expedient must be remembered and used. we will hammer each feeble hope until it becomes the strong steel of certainty. we will transform night into day. the canal will save the fleet. mark antony will find in africa pinarius scarpus with untouched loyal legions. the gladiators are faithful to us. we can easily make them ours, and my brain is seething with other plans. but first we will attend to the alexandrians. no violence!" this exclamation was followed by order after order, and the promise that, if necessary, she would show herself to the people. the exegetus was filled with admiration as he received the clear, sagacious directions. after he had retired with his companions, the queen again turned to the regent, saying: "we did wisely to make the people happy at first with tidings of victory. the unexpected news of terrible disaster might have led them to some unprecedented deed of madness. disappointment is a more common pain, for which less powerful remedies will suffice. besides, many things could be arranged ere they knew that i was here. how much we have accomplished already, mardion! but i have not even granted myself the joy of seeing my children. i was forced to defer the pleasure of the companionship of my oldest friends, even archibius. when he comes again he will be admitted. i have given the order. he knows rome thoroughly. i must hear his opinion of pending negotiations." she shivered as she spoke, and pressing her hand upon her brow, exclaimed: "octavianus victor, cleopatra vanquished! i, who was everything to caesar, beseeching mercy from his heir. i, a petitioner to octavia's brother! yet, no, no! there are still a hundred chances of avoiding the horrible doom. but whoever wishes to compel the field to bear fruits must dig sturdily, draw the buckets from the well, plough, and sow the seed. to work, then, to work! when antony returns he must find all things ready. the first success will restore his lost energy. i glanced through yonder letter while talking with the exegetus; now i will dictate the answer." so she sat reading, writing, and dictating, listening, answering, and giving orders, until the east brightened with the approach of dawn, the morning star grew pale, and the regent, utterly exhausted, entreated her to consider her own health and his years, and permit him a few hours' rest. then she, too, allowed herself to be led into her darkened chamber, and this time a friendly, dreamless slumber closed her weary eyes and held her captive until roused by the loud shouts of the multitude, who had heard of the queen's return and flocked to lochias. etext editor's bookmarks: without heeding the opinion of mortals ********************************************************************** this ebook was one of project gutenberg's early files produced at a time when proofing methods and tools were not well developed. there is an improved edition of this title which may be viewed at ebook # . the html file at: http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h/ -h.htm ********************************************************************** this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] cleopatra by georg ebers volume . chapter iv. the house facing the garden of the paneum, where barine lived, was the property of her mother, who had inherited it from her parents. the artist leonax, the young beauty's father, son of the old philosopher didymus, had died long before. after barine's unhappy marriage with philostratus was dissolved, she had returned to her mother, who managed the affairs of the household. she too, belonged to a family of scholars and had a brother who had won high repute as a philosopher, and had directed the studies of the young octavianus. this had occurred long before the commencement of the hostility which separated the heirs of caesar and mark antony. but even after the latter had deserted octavia, the sister of octavianus, to return to cleopatra, the object of his love, and there was an open breach between the two rivals for the sovereignty of the world, antony had been friendly to arius and borne him no grudge for his close relations to his rival. the generous roman had even given his enemy's former tutor a fine house, to show him that he was glad to have him in alexandria and near his person. the widow berenike, barine's mother, was warmly attached to her only brother, who often joined her daughter's guests. she was a quiet, modest woman whose happiest days had been passed in superintending the education of her children, barine, the fiery hippias, and the quiet helena, who for several years had lived with her grandparents and, with faithful devotion, assumed the duty of caring for them. she had been more easily guided than the two older children; for the boy's aspiring spirit had often drawn him beyond his mother's control, and the beautiful, vivacious girl had early possessed charms so unusual that she could not remain unnoticed. hippias had studied oratory, first in alexandria and later in athens and rhodes. three years before, his uncle arius had sent him with excellent letters of introduction to rome to become acquainted with the life of the capital and try whether, in spite of his origin, his brilliant gifts of eloquence would forward his fortunes there. two miserable years with an infamous, unloved husband had changed the wild spirits of barine's childhood into the sunny cheerfulness now one of her special charms. her mother was conscious of having desired only her best good in uniting the girl of sixteen to philostratus, whom the grandfather didymus then considered a very promising young man, and whose advancement, in addition to his own talents, his brother alexas, antony's favourite, promised to aid. she had believed that this step would afford the gay, beautiful girl the best protection from the perils of the corrupt capital; but the worthless husband had caused both mother and daughter much care and sorrow, while his brother alexas, who constantly pursued his young sister-in-law with insulting attentions, was the source of almost equal trouble. berenike often gazed in silent astonishment at the child, who, spite of such sore grief and humiliation, had preserved the innocent light-heartedness which made her seem as if life had offered her only thornless roses. her father, leonax, had been one of the most distinguished artists of the day, and barine had inherited from him the elastic artist temperament which speedily rebounds from the heaviest pressure. to him also she owed the rare gift of song, which had been carefully cultivated and had already secured her the first position in the woman's chorus at the festival of the great goddesses of the city. every one was full of her praises, and after she had sung the yalemos in the palace over the waxen image of the favourite of the gods, slain by the boar, her name was eagerly applauded. to have heard her was esteemed a privilege, for she sang only in her own house or at religious ceremonials "for the honour of the gods." the queen, too, had heard her, and, after the adonis festival, her uncle arius had presented her to antony, who expressed his admiration with all the fervour of his frank nature, and afterwards came to her house a second time, accompanied by his son antyllus. doubtless he would have called on her frequently and tested upon her heart his peculiar power over women, had he not been compelled to leave the city on the day after his last visit. berenike had reproved her brother for bringing the queen's lover to barine, for her anxiety was increased by the repeated visits of antony's son, and still more aroused by that of caesarion, who was presented by antyllus. these youths were not numbered among the guests whose presence she welcomed and whose conversation afforded her pleasure. it was flattering that they should honour her simple home by their visits, but she knew that caesarion came without his tutor's knowledge, and perceived, by the expression of his eyes, what drew him to her daughter. besides, berenike, in rearing the two children, who had been the source of so much anxiety had lost the joyous confidence which had characterized her own youth. whenever life presented any new phase, she saw the dark side first. if a burning candle stood before her, the shadow of the candlestick caught her eye before the light. her whole mental existence became a chain of fears, but the kind-hearted woman loved her children too tenderly to permit them to see it. only it was a relief to her heart when some of her evil forebodings were realized, to say that she had foreseen it all. no trace of this was legible in her face, a countenance still pretty and pleasing in its unruffled placidity. she talked very little, but what she did say was sensible, and proved how attentively she understood how to listen. so she was welcome among barine's guests. even the most distinguished received something from her, because he felt that the quiet woman understood him. before barine had returned that evening, something had occurred which made her mother doubly regret the accident to her brother arius the day before. on his way home from his sister's he had been run over by a chariot darting recklessly along the street of the king, and was carried, severely injured, to his home, where he now lay helpless and fevered. nor did it lessen his sufferings to hear his two sons threaten to take vengeance on the reckless fellow who had wrought their father this mischief, for he had reason to believe antyllus the perpetrator of the deed, and a collision between the youths and the son of antony could only result in fresh disaster to him and his, especially as the young roman seemed to have inherited little of his father's magnanimous generosity. yet arius could not be vexed with his sons for stigmatizing, in the harshest terms, the conduct of the man who had gone on without heeding the accident. he had cautioned his sister against the utterly unbridled youth whose father he had himself brought to her house. with what good reason he had raised his voice in warning was now evident. at sunset that very day several guests had arrived as usual, followed by antyllus, a youth of nineteen. when the door-keeper refused to admit him, he had rudely demanded to see barine, thrust aside the prudent old porter, who endeavoured to detain him, and, in spite of his protestations, forced his way into his dead master's work-room, where the ladies usually received their visitors. not until he found it empty would he retire, and then he first fastened a bouquet of flowers he had brought to a statue of eros in burnt clay, which stood there. both the porter and barine's waiting-maid declared that he was drunk; they saw it when he staggered away with the companions who had waited for him in the garden outside. this unseemly and insulting conduct filled berenike with the deepest indignation. it must not remain unpunished, and, while waiting for her daughter, she imagined what evil consequences might ensue if antyllus were forbidden the house and accused to his tutor, and how unbearable, on the other hand, he might become if they omitted to do so. she was full of sad presentiments, and as, with such good reason, she feared the worst, she cherished a faint hope that her daughter might perhaps bring home some pleasant tidings; for she had had the experience that events which had filled her with the utmost anxiety sometimes resulted in good fortune. at last barine appeared, and it was indeed long since she had clasped her mother in her arms with such joyous cheerfulness. the widow's troubled heart grew lighter. her daughter must have met with something unusually gratifying, she looked so happy, although she had surely heard what had happened here; for her cloak was laid aside and her hair newly arranged, so she must have been to her chamber, where she was dressed by her loquacious cyprian slave, who certainly could not keep to herself anything that was worth mentioning. the nimble maid had shown her skill that day. "any stranger would take her for nineteen," thought her mother. "how becoming the white robe and blue-bordered peplum are to her; how softly the azure bombyx ribbon is wound around the thick waves of her hair! who would believe that no curling-irons had touched the little golden locks that rest so gracefully on her brow, that no paint-brush had any share in producing the rose and white hues on her cheek, or the alabaster glimmer of her arms? such beauty easily becomes a danae dower; but it is a magnificent gift of the gods! yet why did she put on the bracelet which antony gave her after his last visit? scarcely on my account. she can hardly expect dion at so late an hour. even while i am rejoicing in the sight of her beauty, some new misfortune may be impending." so ran the current of her thoughts while her daughter was gaily describing what she had witnessed at her grandfather's. meanwhile she had nestled comfortably among the cushions of a lounge; and when she mentioned antyllus's unseemly conduct, she spoke of it, with a carelessness that startled berenike, as a vexatious piece of rudeness which must not occur again. "but who is to prevent it?" asked the mother anxiously. "who, save ourselves?" replied barine. "he will not be admitted." "and if he forced his way in?" barine's big blue eyes flashed angrily, and there was no lack of decision in her voice as she exclaimed, "let him try it!" "but what power have we to restrain the son of antony?" asked berenike. "i do not know." "i do," replied her daughter. "i will be brief, for a visitor is coming." "so late?" asked the mother anxiously. "archibius wishes to discuss an important matter with us." the lines on the brow of the older woman smoothed, but it contracted again as she exclaimed inquiringly: "important business at so unusual an hour! ah, i have expected nothing good since early morning! on my way to my brother's a raven flew up before me and fluttered towards the left into the garden." "but i," replied barine, after receiving, in reply to her inquiry, a favourable report concerning her uncle's health-"i met seven--there were neither more nor less; for seven is the best of numbers--seven snow-white doves, which all flew swiftly towards the right. the fairest of all came first, bearing in its beak a little basket which contained the power that will keep antony's son away from us. don't look at me in such amazement, you dear receptacle of every terror." "but, child, you said that archibius was coming so late to discuss an important matter," rejoined the mother. "he must be here soon." "then cease this talking in riddles; i do not guess them quickly." "you will solve this one," returned barine; "but we really have no time to lose. so-my beautiful dove was a good, wise thought, and what it carried in its basket you shall hear presently. you see, mother, many will blame us, though here and there some one may pity; but this state of things must not continue. i feel it more and more plainly with each passing day; and several years must yet elapse ere this scruple becomes wholly needless. i am too young to welcome as a guest every one whom this or that man presents to me. true, our reception-hall was my father's work-room and you, my own estimable, blameless mother, are the hostess here; but though superior to me in every respect, you are so modest that you shield yourself behind your daughter until the guests think of you only when you are absent. so those who seek us both merely say, 'i am going to visit barine'--and there are too many who say this-- i can no longer choose, and this thought--" "child! child!" interrupted her mother joyfully, "what god met you as you went out this morning?" "surely you know," she answered gaily; "it was seven doves, and, when i took the little basket from the bill of the first and prettiest one, it told me a story. do you want to hear it?" "yes, yes; but be quick, or we shall be interrupted." then barine leaned farther back among the cushions, lowered her long lashes, and began: "once upon a time there was a woman who had a garden in the most aristocratic quarter of the city--here near the paneum, if you please. in the autumn, when the fruit was ripening, she left the gate open, though all her neighbours did the opposite. to keep away unbidden lovers of her nice figs and dates, she fastened on the gate a tablet bearing the inscription: 'all may enter and enjoy the sight of the garden; but the dogs will bite any one who breaks a flower, treads upon the grass, or steals the fruit.' "the woman had nothing but a lap-dog, and that did not always obey her. but the tablet fulfilled its purpose; for at first none came except her neighbours in the aristocratic quarter. they read the threat, and probably without it would have respected the property of the woman who so kindly opened the door to them. thus matters went on for a time, until first a beggar came, and then a phoenician sailor, and a thievish egyptian from the rhakotis--neither of whom could read. so the tablet told them nothing; and as, moreover, they distinguished less carefully between mine and thine, one trampled the turf and another snatched from the boughs a flower or fruit. more and more of the rabble came, and you can imagine what followed. no one punished them for the crime, for they did not fear the barking of the lap-dog, and this gave even those who could read, courage not to heed the warning. so the woman's pretty garden soon lost its peculiar charm; and the fruit, too, was stolen. when the rain at last washed the inscription from the tablet, and saucy boys scrawled on it, there was no harm done; for the garden no longer offered any attractions, and no one who looked into it cared to enter. then the owner closed her gate like the neighbours, and the next year she again enjoyed the green grass and the bright hues of the flowers. she ate her fruit herself, and the lap-dog no longer disturbed her by its barking." "that is," said her mother, "if everybody was as courteous and as well bred as gorgias, lysias, and the others, we would gladly continue to receive them. but since there are rude fellows like antyllus--" "you have understood the story correctly," barine interrupted. "we are certainly at liberty to invite to our house those who have learned to read our inscription. to-morrow visitors will be informed that we can no longer receive them as before." "antyllus's conduct affords an excellent pretext," her mother added. "every fair-minded person must understand--" "certainly," said barine, "and if you, shrewdest of women, will do your part-- "then for the first time we can act as we please in our own home. believe me, child--if you only do not--" "no ifs!--not this time!" cried the young beauty, raising her hand beseechingly. "it gives me such delight to think of the new life, and if matters come to pass as i hope and wish--then--do not you also believe, mother, that the gods owe me reparation?" "for what?" asked the deep voice of archibius, who had entered unannounced, and was now first noticed by the widow and her daughter. barine hastily rose and held out both hands to her old friend, exclaiming, "since they bring you to us, they are already beginning the payment." chapter v. an artist, especially a great artist, finds it easy to give his house an attractive appearance. he desires comfort in it, and only the beautiful is comfortable to him. whatever would disturb harmony offends his eye, and to secure the noblest ornament of his house he need not invite any stranger to cross its threshold. the muse, the best of assistants, joins him unbidden. leonax, barine's father, had been thus aided to transform the interior of his house into a very charming residence. he had painted on the walls of his own work-room incidents in the life of alexander the great, the founder of his native city, and on the frieze a procession of dancing cupids. here barine now received her guests, and the renown of these paintings was not one of the smallest inducements which had led antony to visit the young beauty and to take his son, in whom he wished to awaken at least a fleeting pleasure in art. he also knew how to prize her beauty and her singing, but the ardent passion which had taken possession of him in his mature years was for cleopatra alone. he whose easily won heart and susceptible fancy had urged him from one commonplace love to another had been bound by the queen with chains of indestructible and supernatural power. by her side a barine seemed to him merely a work of art endowed with life and a voice that charmed the ear. yet he owed her some pleasant hours, and he could not help bestowing gifts upon any one to whom he was indebted for anything pleasant. he liked to be considered the most generous spendthrift on earth, and the polished bracelet set with a gem, on which was carved apollo playing on his lyre, surrounded by the listening muses, looked very simple, but was really an ornament of priceless value, for the artist who made it was deemed the best stone- cutter in alexandria in the time of philadelphus, and each one of the tiny figures sculptured on the bit of onyx scarcely three fingers wide was a carefully executed masterpiece of the most exquisite beauty. antony had chosen it because he deemed it a fitting gift for the woman whose song had pleased him. he had not thought of asking its value; indeed, only a connoisseur would have perceived it; and as the circlet was not showy and well became her beautiful arm, barine liked to wear it. had not the war taken him away, antony's second visit would certainly not have been his last. besides the singing which enthralled him, the conversation had been gay and brilliant, and in addition to leonax's paintings, he had seen other beautiful works of art which the former had obtained by exchanging with many distinguished companions. nor was there any lack of plastic creations in the spacious apartment, to which the flashing of the water poured by a powerful man from the goatskin bottle on his shoulder into a shell lent a special charm. the master who had carved this stooping nubian had also created the much- discussed statues of the royal lovers. the clay eros, who with bent knee was aiming at a victim visible to himself alone, was also his work. antony, when paying his second visit, had laughingly laid the garland he wore before "the greatest of human conquerors," while a short time ago his son antyllus had rudely thrust his bouquet of flowers into the opening of the curved right arm which was drawing the string. in doing so the statue had been injured. now the flowers lay unheeded upon the little altar at the end of the large room, lighted only by a single lamp; for the ladies had left it with their guest. they were in barine's favourite apartment, a small room, where there were several pictures by her dead father. antyllus's bouquet, and the damage to the clay statue of eros, had played a prominent part in the conversation between the three, and rendered archibius's task easier. berenike had greeted the guest with a complaint of the young roman's recklessness and unseemly conduct, to which barine added the declaration that they had now sacrificed enough to zeus xenios, the god of hospitality. she meant to devote her future life to the modest household gods and to apollo, to whom she owed the gift of song. archibius had listened silently in great surprise until she had finished her explanation and declared that henceforth she intended to live alone with her mother, instead of having her father's workshop filled with guests. the young beauty's vivid imagination transported her to this new and quieter life. but, spite of the clear and glowing hues in which she described her anticipations, her grey-haired listener could not have believed in them fully. a subtle smile sometimes flitted over his grave, somewhat melancholy face--that of a man who has ceased to wrestle in the arena of life, and after severe conflict now preferred to stand among the spectators and watch others win or lose the prize of victory. doubtless the wounds which he had received still ached, yet his sorrowful experiences did not prevent his being an attentive observer. the expression of his clear eyes showed that he mentally shared whatever aroused his sympathy. whoever understood how to listen thus, and, moreover--the prominence of the brow above the nose showed it--was also a trained thinker, could not fail to be a good counsellor, and as such he was regarded by many, and first of all by the queen. the wise deliberation, which was one of his characteristic traits, showed itself on this occasion; for though he had come to persuade barine try a country residence, he refrained from doing until she had exhausted the story of her own affairs and inquired the important cause of his visit. in the principal matter his request was granted ere he made it. so he could begin with the query whether the mother and daughter did not think that the transition to the new mode of life could be effected more easily if they were absent from the city a short time. it would awaken comment they should close their house against guests on the morrow, and as the true reason could not be given, many would be offended. if, on the contrary, they could resolve to quit the capital for a few weeks, many, it is true, would lament their decision, but what was alloted to all alike could be resented by no one. berenike eagerly assented, but barine grew thoughtful. then archibius begged her to speak frankly, and after she had asked where they could he proposed his country estate. his keen grey eyes had perceived that something, bound her so firmly to the city that in the case of a true woman like barine it must be an affair of the heart. he had evidently judged correctly, for, at his prediction that there would be no lack of visits from her dearest friends, she raised her head, her blue eyes sparkled brightly, and when archibius paused she to her mother, exclaiming gaily "we will go!" again the vivid imagination daughter conjured the future before her in distinct outlines. she alone knew whom she meant when she spoke of the visitor she expected at irenia, archibius's estate. the name meant "the place of peace," and it pleased her. archibius listened smilingly; but when she began to assign him also a part in driving the little sardinian horses and pursuing the birds, he interrupted her with the statement that whether he could speedily allow himself a pleasure which he should so keenly enjoy--that of breathing the country air with such charming guests--would depend upon the fate of another. thank the gods, he had been able to come here with a lighter heart, because, just before his departure, he had heard of a splendid victory gained by the queen. the ladies would perhaps permit him to remain a little longer, as he was expecting confirmation of the news. it was evident that he awaited it in great suspense, and that his heart was by no means free from anxiety. berenike shared it, and her pleasant face, which had hitherto reflected her delight at her daughter's sensible resolution, was now clouded with care as archibius began: "the object of my presence here? you are making it very easy for me to attain it. if i deemed it honest, i could now conceal the fact that i had sought you to induce you to leave the city. i see no peril from the boyish insolence of the son of antony. the point in question, child, is merely to put yourself out of the reach of caesarion." "if you could place me in the moon, it would please me best, as far as he is concerned," replied barine eagerly. "that is just what induced me to change our mode of life, since my door cannot be closed against the boy who, though still under a tutor, uses his rank as a key to open it. and just think of being compelled to address that dreamer, with eyes pleading for help, by the title of 'king'!" "yet what mighty impulse might not be slumbering in the breast of a son of julius caesar and cleopatra?" said archibius. "and passion--i know, my child, that it is no fault of yours--has now awakened within him. whatever the result may be, it must fill his mother's heart with anxiety. that is why it is needful to hasten your departure, and to keep your destination a secret. he will attempt no violence; but--he is the child of his parents--and some unexpected act may be anticipated from him." "you startle me!" cried barine. "you transform the cooing dove which entered my house into a dangerous griffin." "as such you may regard him," said the other, warningly. "you will be a welcome guest, barine, but i invited you, whom i have loved from your earliest childhood, the daughter of my dearest friend, not merely to do you a service at irenia, but to save from grief or even annoyance the person to whom--who is not aware of it--i owe everything." the words conveyed to both ladies the knowledge that, though they were dear to archibius, he would sacrifice them, and with them, perhaps, all the rest of the world, for the peace and happiness of the queen. barine had expected nothing else. she knew that cleopatra had made the philosopher's son a wealthy man and the owner of extensive estates; but she also felt that the source of his loyal devotion to the queen, over whom he watched like a tender father, was due to other causes. cleopatra prized him also. had he been ambitious, he could have stood at the helm of the ship of state, as epitrop long ago, but--the whole city knew it-- he had more than once refused to accept a permanent office, because he believed that he could serve his mistress better as an unassuming, unnoticed counsellor. berenike had told barine that the relations between cleopatra and archibius dated back to their childhood, but she had learned no particulars. various rumours were afloat which, in the course of time, had been richly adorned and interwoven with anecdotes, and barine naturally lent the most ready credence to those which asserted that the princess, in her earliest youth, had cherished a childish love for the philosopher's son. now her friend's conduct led her to believe it. when archibius paused, the young beauty assured him that she understood him; and as the alabaster hanging lamp and a three-branched light cast a brilliant glow upon the portrait which her father had painted of the nineteen-year-old queen, and afterwards copied for his own household, she pointed to it, and, pursuing the current of her own thoughts, asked the question: "was she not marvellously beautiful at that time?" "as your father's work represents her," was the reply. "leonax painted the portrait of octavia, on the opposite side, the same year, and perhaps the artist deemed the roman the fairer woman." he pointed as he spoke to a likeness of octavianus's sister, whom barine's father had painted as the young wife of marcellus, her first husband. "oh, no!" said berenike. "i still remember perfectly how leonax returned in those days. what woman might not have been jealous of his enthusiasm for the roman hera? at that time i had not seen the portrait, and when i asked whether he thought octavia more beautiful than the queen, for whom eros had inflamed his heart, as in the case of most of the beautiful women he painted, he exclaimed--you know his impetuous manner--'octavia stands foremost in the ranks of those who are called "beautiful" or "less beautiful"; the other, cleopatra, stands alone, and can be compared with no one.'" archibius bent his head in assent, then said firmly, "but, as a child, when i first saw her, she would have been the fairest even in the dance of the young gods of love." "how old was she then?" asked barine, eagerly. "eight years," he answered. "how far in the past it is, yet i have not forgotten a single hour! "barine now earnestly entreated him to tell them the story of those days, but archibius gazed thoughtfully at the floor for some time ere he raised his head and answered: "perhaps it will be well if you learn more of the woman for whose sake i ask a sacrifice at your hands. arius is your brother and uncle. he stands near to octavianus, for he was his intellectual guide, and i know that he reveres the roman's sister, octavia, as a goddess. antony is now struggling with octavianus for the sovereignty of the world. octavia succumbed in the conflict against the woman of whom you desire to hear. it is not my place to judge her, but i may instruct and warn. roman nations burn incense to octavia, and, when cleopatra's name is uttered, they veil their faces indignantly. here in alexandria many imitate them. whoever upholds shining purity may hope to win a share of the radiance emanating from it. they call octavia the lawful wife, and cleopatra the criminal who robbed her of her husband's heart." "not i!" exclaimed barine eagerly. "how often i have heard my uncle say that antony and cleopatra were fired with the most ardent love for each other! never did the arrows of eros pierce two hearts more deeply. then it became necessary to save the state from civil war and bloodshed. antony consented to form an alliance with his rival, and, as security for the sincerity of the reconciliation, he gave his hand in marriage to octavia, whose first husband, marcellus, had just died--his hand, i say, only his hand, for his heart was captive to the queen of egypt. and if antony was faithless to the wife to whom statecraft had bound him, he kept his pledge to the other, who had an earlier, better title. if cleopatra did not give up the man to whom she had sworn fidelity forever, she was right--a thousand times right! in my eyes--no matter how often my mother rebukes me--cleopatra, in the eyes of the immortals, is and always will be antony's real wife; the other, though on her marriage day no custom, no word, no stroke of the stylus, no gesture was omitted, is the intruder in a bond of love which rejoices the gods, however it may anger mortals, and--forgive me, mother--virtuous matrons." berenike had listened with blushing cheeks to her vivacious daughter; now with timid earnestness she interrupted: "i know that those are the views of the new times; that antony in the eyes of the egyptians, and probably also according to their customs, is the rightful husband of the queen. i know, too, that you are both against me. yet cleopatra is in reality a greek, and therefore--eternal gods!--i can sincerely pity her; but the marriage has been solemnized, and i cannot blame octavia. she rears and cherishes, as if they were her own, the children of her faithless husband and fulvia, his first wife, who have no claim upon her. it is more than human to take the stones from the path of the man who became her foe, as she does. no woman in alexandria can pray more fervently than i that cleopatra and her friend may conquer octavianus. his cold nature, highly as my brother esteems him, is repellent to me. but when i gaze at octavia's beautiful, chaste, queenly, noble countenance, the mirror of true womanly purity--" "you can rejoice," archibius added, completing the sentence, and laying his right hand soothingly on the arm of the excited woman, "only it would be advisable at this time to put the portrait elsewhere, and rest satisfied with confiding your opinion of octavia to your brother and a friend as reliable as myself. if we conquer, such things may pass; if not--the messenger tarries long--" here barine again entreated him to use the time. she had only once had the happiness of being noticed by the queen--just after her song at the adonis festival. then cleopatra had advanced to thank her. she said only a few kind words, but in a voice which seemed to penetrate the inmost depths of her heart and bind her with invisible threads. meanwhile barine's eyes met those of her sovereign, and at first they roused an ardent desire to press her lips even on the hem of her robe, but afterwards she felt as if a venomous serpent had crawled out of the most beautiful flower. here archibius interrupted her with the remark that he remembered perfectly how, after the song, antony had addressed her at the same time as the queen, and cleopatra lacked no feminine weakness. "jealousy?" asked barine, in astonishment. "i was not presumptuous enough to admit it. i secretly feared that alexas, the brother of philostratus, had prejudiced her. he is as ill-disposed towards me as the man who was my husband. but everything connected with those two is so base and shameful that i will not allow it to cloud this pleasant hour. yet the fear that alexas might have slandered me to the queen is not groundless. "he is as shrewd as his brother, and through antony, into whose favour he ingratiated himself, is always in communication with cleopatra. he went to the war with him." "i learned that too late, and am utterly powerless against antony," replied archibius. "but was it not natural that i should fear he had prejudiced the queen?" asked barine. "at any rate, i imagined that i detected a hostile expression in her eyes, and it repelled me, though at first i had been so strongly attracted towards her." "and had not that other stepped between you, you could not have turned from her again!" said archibius. "the first time i saw her i was but a mere boy, and she--as i have already said--a child eight years old." barine nodded gratefully to archibius, brought the distaff to her mother, poured water into the wine in the mixing vessel, and after at first leaning comfortably back among the cushions, she soon bent forward in a listening attitude, with her elbow propped on her knee, and her chin supported by her hand. berenike drew the flax from the distaff, at first slowly, then faster and faster. "you know my country-house in the kanopus," the guest began. "it was originally a small summer palace belonging to the royal family, and underwent little change after we moved into it. even the garden is unaltered. it was full of shady old trees. olympus, the leech, had chosen this place, that my father might complete within its walls the work of education entrusted to him. you shall hear the story. at that time alexandria was in a state of turmoil, for rome had not recognized the king, and ruled over us like fate, though it had not acknowledged the will by which the miserable alexander bequeathed egypt to him like a field or a slave. "the king of egypt, who called himself 'the new dionysus,' was a weak man, whose birth did not give him the full right to the sovereignty. you know that the people called him the 'fluteplayer.' he really had no greater pleasure than to hear music and listen to his own performances. he played by no means badly on more than one instrument, and, moreover, as a reveller did honour to the other name. whoever kept sober at the festival of dionysus, whose incarnate second self he regarded himself, incurred his deepest displeasure. "the flute-player's wife, queen tryphoena, and her oldest daughter--she bore your name, berenike--ruined his life. compared with them, the king was worthy and virtuous. what had become of the heroes and the high- minded princes of the house of ptolemy? every passion and crime had found a home in their palaces! "the flute-player, cleopatra's father, was by no means the worst. he was a slave to his own caprices; no one had taught him to bridle his passions. where it served his purpose, even death was summoned to his aid; but this was a custom of the last sovereigns of his race. in one respect he was certainly superior to most of them--he still possessed a capacity to feel a loathing for the height of crime, to believe in virtue and loftiness of soul, and the possibility of implanting them in youthful hearts. when a boy, he had been under the influence of an excellent teacher, whose precepts had lingered in his memory and led him to determine to withdraw his favourite children--two girls--from their mother's sway, at least as far as possible. "i learned afterwards that it had been his desire to confide the princesses wholly to my parents' care. but an invincible power opposed this. though greeks might be permitted to instruct the royal children in knowledge, the egyptians would not yield the right to their religious education. the leech olympus--you know the good old man--had insisted that the delicate cleopatra must spend the coldest winter months in upper egypt, where the sky was never clouded, and the summer near the sea in a shady garden. the little palace at kanopus was devoted to this purpose. "when we moved there it was entirely unoccupied, but the princesses were soon to be brought to us. during the winter olympus preferred the island of philae, on the nubian frontier, because the famous temple of isis was there, and its priests willingly undertook to watch over the children. "the queen would not listen to any of these plans. leaving alexandria and spending the winter on a lonely island in the tropics was an utterly incomprehensible idea. so she let the king have his way, and no doubt was glad to be relieved from the care of the children; for, even after her royal husband's exile from the city, she never visited her daughters. true, death allowed her only a short time to do so. "her oldest daughter, berenike, who became her successor, followed her example, and troubled herself very little about her sisters. i heard after wards that she was very glad to know that they were in charge of persons who filled their minds with other thoughts than the desire to rule. her brothers were reared at lochias by our countryman theodotus, under the eyes of their guardian, pothinus. "our family life was of course wholly transformed by the reception of the royal children. in the first place, we moved from our house in the museum square into the little palace at kanopus, and the big, shady garden delighted us. i remember, as though it were but yesterday, the morning--i was then a boy of fifteen--when my father told us that two of the king's daughters would soon become members of the household. there were three of us children--charmian, who went to the war with the queen, because iras, our niece, was ill; i myself; and straton, who died long ago. we were urged to treat the princesses with the utmost courtesy and consideration, and we perceived that their reception really demanded respect; for the palace, which we had found empty and desolate, was refurnished from roof to foundation. "the day before they were expected horses, chariots, and litters came, while boats and a splendid state galley, fully manned, arrived by sea. then a train of male and female slaves appeared, among them two fat eunuchs. "i can still see the angry look with which my father surveyed all these people. he drove at once to the city, and on his return his clear eyes were as untroubled as ever. a court official accompanied him, and only that portion of the useless amount of luggage and number of persons that my father desired remained. "the princesses were to come the next morning--it was at the end of february--flowers were blooming in the grass and on the bushes, while the foliage of the trees glittered with the fresh green which the rising sap gives to the young leaves. i was sitting on a strong bough of a sycamore-tree, which grew opposite to the house, watching for them. their arrival was delayed and, as i gazed meanwhile over the garden, i thought it must surely please them, for not a palace in the city had one so beautiful. "at last the litters appeared; they had neither runners nor attendants, as my father had requested, and when the princesses alighted--both at the same moment--i knew not which way to turn my eyes first, for the creature that fluttered like a dragon-fly rather than stepped from the first litter, was not a girl like other mortals--she seemed like a wish, a hope. when the dainty, beautiful creature turned her head hither and thither, and at last gazed questioningly, as if beseeching help, into the faces of my father and mother, who stood at the gate to receive her, it seemed to me that such must have been the aspect of psyche when she stood pleading for mercy at the throne of zeus. "but it was worth while to look at the other also. was that cleopatra? she might have been the elder, for she was as tall as her sister, but how utterly unlike! from the waving hair to every movement of the hands and body the former--it was cleopatra--had seemed to me as if she were flying. everything about the second figure, on the contrary, was solid, nay, even seemed to offer positive resistance. she sprang from the litter and alighted on the ground with both feet at once, clung firmly to the door, and haughtily flung back her head, crowned with a wealth of dark locks. her complexion was pink and white, and her blue eyes sparkled brightly enough; but the expression with which she gazed at my parents was defiant rather than questioning, and as she glanced around her red lips curled scornfully as though she deemed her surroundings despicable and unworthy of her royal birth. "this irritated me against the seven-year-old child, yet i said to myself that, though it was very beautiful here--thanks to my father's care-- perhaps it appeared plain and simple when compared with the marble, gold, and purple of the royal palace whence she came. her features, too, were regular and beautiful, and she would have attracted attention by her loveliness among a multitude. when i soon heard her issue imperious commands and defiantly insist upon the fulfilment of every wish, i thought, in my boyish ignorance, that arsinoe must be the elder; for she was better suited to wield a sceptre than her sister. i said so to my brother and charmian; but we all soon saw which really possessed queenly majesty; for arsinoe, if her will were crossed, wept, screamed, and raged like a lunatic, or, if that proved useless, begged and teased; while if cleopatra wanted anything she obtained it in a different way. even at that time she knew what weapons would give her victory and, while using them, she still remained the child of a king. "no artisan's daughter could have been further removed from airs of majestic pathos than this embodiment of the most charming childlike grace; but if anything for which her passionate nature ardently longed was positively refused, she understood how to attain it by the melody of her voice, the spell of her eyes, and in extreme cases by a silent tear. when to such tears were added uplifted hands and a few sweet words, such as, 'it would make me happy,' or, 'don't you see how it hurts me?' resistance was impossible; and in after-years also her silent tears and the marvellous music of her voice won her a victory in the decisive questions of life. "we children were soon playmates and friends, for my parents did not wish the princesses to begin their studies until after they felt at home with us. this pleased arsinoe, although she could already read and write; but cleopatra more than once asked to hear something from my father's store of wisdom, of which she had been told. "the king and her former teacher had cherished the highest expectations from the brilliant intellect of this remarkable child, and olympus once laid his hand on my curls and bade me take care that the princess did not outstrip the philosopher's son. i had always occupied one of the foremost places, and laughingly escaped, assuring him that there was no danger. "but i soon learned that this warning was not groundless. you will think that the old fool's heart has played him a trick, and in the magic garden of childish memories the gifted young girl was transformed into a goddess. that she certainly was not; for the immortals are free from the faults and weaknesses of humanity." "and what robbed cleopatra of the renown of resembling the gods?" asked barine eagerly. a subtle smile, not wholly free from reproach, accompanied archibius's reply: "had i spoken of her virtues, you would hardly have thought of asking further details. but why should i try to conceal what she has displayed to the world openly enough throughout her whole life? falsehood and hypocrisy were as unfamiliar to her as fishing is to the sons of the desert. the fundamental principles which have dominated this rare creature's life and character to the present day are two ceaseless desires: first, to surpass every one, even in the most difficult achievements; and, secondly, to love and to be loved in return. from them emanated what raised her above all other women. ambition and love will also sustain her like two mighty wings on the proud height to which they have borne her, so long as they dwell harmoniously in her fiery soul. hitherto a rare favour of destiny has permitted this, and may the olympians grant that thus it may ever be!" here archibius paused, wiped the perspiration from his brow, asked if the messenger had arrived, and ordered him to be admitted as soon as he appeared. then he went on as calmly as before: "the princesses were members of our household, and in the course of time they seemed like sisters. during the first winter the king allowed them to spend only the most inclement months at philae, for he was unwilling to live without them. true, he saw them rarely enough; weeks often elapsed without a visit; but, on the other hand, he often came day after day to our garden, clad in plain garments, and borne in an unpretending litter, for these visits were kept secret from every one save the leech olympus. "i often saw the tall, strong man, with red, bloated face, playing with his children like a mechanic who had just returned from work. but he usually remained only a short time, seeming to be satisfied with having seen them again. perhaps he merely wished to assure himself that they were comfortable with us. at any rate, no one was permitted to go near the group of plane-trees where he talked with them. "but it is easy to hide amid the dense foliage of these trees, so my knowledge that he questioned them is not solely hearsay. "cleopatra was happy with us from the beginning; arsinoe needed a longer time; but the king valued only the opinion of his older child, his darling, on whom he feasted his eyes and ears like a lover. he often shook his heavy head at the sight of her, and when she gave him one of her apt replies, he laughed so loudly that the sound of his deep, resonant voice was heard as far as the house. "once i saw tear after tear course down his flushed cheeks, and yet his visit was shorter than usual. the closed 'harmamaxa' in which he came bore him from our house directly to the vessel which was to convey him to cyprus and rome. the alexandrians, headed by the queen, had forced him to leave the city and the country. "he was indeed unworthy of the crown, but he loved his little daughter like a true father. still, it was terrible, monstrous for him to invoke curses upon the mother and sister of the children, in their presence, and in the same breath command them to hate and execrate them, but to love and never forget him. "i was then seventeen and cleopatra ten years old. i, who loved my parents better than my life, felt an icy chill run through my veins and then a touch upon my heart like balsam, as i heard little arsinoe, after her father had gone, whisper to her sister, 'we will hate them--may the gods destroy them!' and when cleopatra answered with tearful eyes, 'let us rather be better than they, very good indeed, arsinoe, that the immortals may love us and bring our father back.' "'because then he will make you queen,' replied arsinoe sneeringly, still trembling with angry excitement. "cleopatra gazed at her with a troubled look. "her tense features showed that she was weighing the meaning of the words, and i can still see her as she suddenly drew up her small figure, and said proudly, 'yes, i will be queen!' "then her manner changed, and in the sweetest tones of her soft voice, she said beseechingly, 'you won't say such naughty things again, will you?' "this was at the time that my father's instruction began to take possession of her mind. the prediction of olympus was fulfilled. true, i attended the school of oratory, but when my father set the royal maiden a lesson, i was permitted to repeat mine on the same subject, and frequently i could not help admitting that cleopatra had succeeded better than i. "soon there were difficult problems to master, for the intellect of this wonderful child demanded stronger food, and she was introduced into philosophy. my father himself belonged to the school of epicurus, and succeeded far beyond his expectations in rousing cleopatra's interest in his master's teachings. she had been made acquainted with the other great philosophers also, but always returned to epicurus, and induced the rest of us to live with her as a true disciple of the noble samian. "your father and brother have doubtless made you familiar with the precepts of the stoa; yet you have certainly heard that epicurus spent the latter part of his life with his friends and pupils in quiet meditation and instructive conversation in his garden at athens. we, too--according to cleopatra's wish--were to live thus and call ourselves 'disciples of epicurus.' "with the exception of arsinoe, who preferred gayer pastimes, into which she drew my brother straton--at that time a giant in strength--we all liked the plan. i was chosen master, but i perceived that cleopatra desired the position, so she took my place. "during our next leisure afternoon we paced up and down the garden, and the conversation about the chief good was so eager, cleopatra directed it with so much skill, and decided doubtful questions so happily, that we reluctantly obeyed the brazen gong which summoned us to the house, and spent the whole evening in anticipating the next afternoon. "the following morning my father saw several country people assembled before the secluded garden; but he did not have time to inquire what they wanted; for timagenes, who shared the instruction in history--you know he was afterwards taken to rome as a prisoner of war--rushed up to him, holding out a tablet which bore the inscription epicurus had written on the gate of his garden: 'stranger, here you will be happy; here is the chief good, pleasure.' "cleopatra had written this notice in large letters on the top of a small table before sunrise, and a slave had secretly fastened it on the gate for her. "this prank might have easily proved fatal to our beautiful companionship, but it had been done merely to make our game exactly like the model. "my father did not forbid our continuing this pastime, but strictly prohibited our calling ourselves 'epicureans' outside of the garden, for this noble name had since gained among the people a significance wholly alien. epicurus says that true pleasure is to be found only in peace of mind and absence of pain." "but every one," interrupted barine, "believes that people like the wealthy isidorus, whose object in life is to take every pleasure which his wealth can procure, are the real epicureans. my mother would not have confided me long to a teacher by whose associates 'pleasure' was deemed the chief good." "the daughter of a philosopher," replied archibius, gently shaking his head, "ought to understand what pleasure means in the sense of epicurus, and no doubt you do. true, those who are further removed from these things cannot know that the master forbids yearning for individual pleasure. have you an idea of his teachings? no definite one? then permit me a few words of explanation. it happens only too often that epicurus is confounded with aristippus, who places sensual pleasure above intellectual enjoyment, as he holds that bodily pain is harder to endure than mental anguish. epicurus, on the contrary, considers intellectual pleasure to be the higher one; for sensual enjoyment, which he believes free to every one, can be experienced only in the present, while intellectual delight extends to both the past and the future. to the epicureans the goal of life, as has already been mentioned, is to attain the chief blessings, peace of mind, and freedom from pain. he is to practise virtue only because it brings him pleasure; for who could remain virtuous without being wise, noble, and just?--and whoever is all these cannot have his peace of mind disturbed, and must be really happy in the exact meaning of the master. i perceived long since the peril lurking in this system of instruction, which takes no account of moral excellence; but at that time it seemed to me also the chief good. "how all this charmed the mind of the thoughtful child, still untouched by passion! it was difficult to supply her wonderfully vigorous intellect with sufficient sustenance, and she really felt that to enrich it was the highest pleasure. and to her, who could scarcely endure to have a rude hand touch her, though a small grief or trivial disappointment could not be averted, the freedom from pain which the master had named as the first condition for the existence of every pleasure, and termed the chief good, seemed indeed the first condition of a happy life. "yet this child, whom my father once compared to a thinking flower, bore without complaint her sad destiny--her father's banishment, her mother's death, her sister berenike's profligacy. even to me, in whom she found a second brother and fully trusted, she spoke of these sorrowful things only in guarded allusions. i know that she understood what was passing fully and perfectly, and how deeply she felt it; but pain placed itself between her and the 'chief good,' and she mastered it. and when she sat at work, with what tenacious power the delicate creature struggled until she had conquered the hardest task and outstripped charmian and even me! "in those days i understood why, among the gods, a maiden rules over learning, and why she is armed with the weapons of war. you have heard how many languages cleopatra speaks. a remark of timagenes had fallen into her soul like a seed. 'with every language you learn,' he had said, 'you will gain a nation.' but there were many peoples in her father's kingdom, and when she was queen they must all love her. true, she began with the tongue of the conquerors, not the conquered. so it happened that we first learned lucretius, who reproduces in verse the doctrines of epicurus. my father was our teacher, and the second year she read lucretius as if it were a greek book. she had only half known egyptian; now she speedily acquired it. during our stay at philae she found a troglodyte who was induced to teach her his language. there were jews enough here in alexandria to instruct her in theirs, and she also learned its kindred tongue, arabic. "when, many years later, she visited antony at tarsus, the warriors imagined that some piece of egyptian magic was at work, for she addressed each commander in his own tongue, and talked with him as if she were a native of the same country. "it was the same with everything. she outstripped us in every branch of study. to her burning ambition it would have been unbearable to lag behind. "the roman lucretius became her favourite poet, although she was no more friendly to his nation than i, but the self-conscious power of the foe pleased her, and once i heard her exclaim 'ah! if the egyptians were romans, i would give up our garden for berenike's throne.' "lucretius constantly led her back to epicurus, and awakened a severe conflict in her unresting mind. you probably know that he teaches that life in itself is not so great a blessing that it must be deemed a misfortune not to live. it is only spoiled by having death appear to us as the greatest of misfortunes. only the soul which ceases to regard death as a misfortune finds peace. whoever knows that thought and feeling end with life will not fear death; for, no matter how many dear and precious things the dead have left here below, their yearning for them has ceased with life. he declares that providing for the body is the greatest folly, while the egyptian religion, in which anubis strove to strengthen her faith, maintained precisely the opposite. "to a certain degree he succeeded, for his personality exerted a powerful influence over her; and besides, she naturally took great pleasure in mystical, supernatural things, as my brother straton did in physical strength, and you, barine, enjoy the gift of song. you know anubis by sight. what alexandrian has not seen this remarkable man? and whoever has once met his eyes does not easily forget him. he does indeed rule over mysterious powers, and he used them in his intercourse with the young princess. it is his work if she cleaves to the religious belief of her people, if she who is a hellene to the last drop of blood loves egypt, and is ready to make any sacrifice for her independence and grandeur. she is called 'the new isis,' but isis presides over the magic arts of the egyptians, and anubis initiated cleopatra into this secret science, and even persuaded her to enter the observatory and the laboratory-- "but all these things had their origin in our garden of epicurus, and my father did not venture to forbid it; for the king had sent a message from rome to say that he was glad to have cleopatra find pleasure in her own people and their secret knowledge. "the flute-player, during his stay on the tiber, had given his gold to the right men or bound them as creditors to his interest. after pompey, caesar, and crassus had concluded their alliance, they consented at lucca to the restoration of the ptolemy. millions upon millions would not have seemed to him too large a price for this object. pompey would rather have gone to egypt himself, but the jealousy of the others would not permit it. gabinius, the governor of syria, received the commission. "but the occupants of the egyptian throne were not disposed to resign it without a struggle. you know that meanwhile queen berenike, cleopatra's sister, had been twice married. she had her miserable first husband strangled--a more manly spouse had been chosen by the alexandrians for her second consort. he bravely defended his rights, and lost his life on the field of battle. "the senate learned speedily enough that gabinius had brought the ptolemy back to his country; the news reached us more slowly. we watched for every rumour with the same passionate anxiety as now. "at that time cleopatra was fourteen, and had developed magnificently. yonder portrait shows the perfect flower, but the bud possessed, if possible, even more exquisite charm. how clear and earnest was the gaze of her bright eyes! when she was gay they could shine like stars, and then her little red mouth had an indescribably mischievous expression, and in each cheek came one of the tiny dimples which still delight every one. her nose was more delicate than it is now, and the slight curve which appears in the portrait, and which is far too prominent in the coins, was not visible. her hair did not grow dark until later in life. my sister charmian had no greater pleasure than to arrange its wavy abundance. it was like silk, she often said, and she was right. i know this, for when at the festival of isis, cleopatra, holding the sistrum, followed the image of the goddess, she was obliged to wear it unconfined. on her return home she often shook her head merrily, and her hair fell about her like a cataract, veiling her face and figure. then, as now, she was not above middle height, but her form possessed the most exquisite symmetry, only it was still more delicate and pliant. "she had understood how to win all hearts. yet, though she seemed to esteem our father higher, trust me more fully, look up to anubis with greater reverence, and prefer to argue with the keen-witted timagenes, she still appeared to hold all who surrounded her in equal favour, while arsinoe left me in the lurch if straton were present, and whenever the handsome melnodor, one of my father's pupils, came to us, she fairly devoured him with her glowing eyes. "as soon as it was rumoured that the romans were bringing the king back, queen berenike came to us to take the young girls to the city. when cleopatra entreated her to leave her in our parents' care and not interrupt her studies, a scornful smile flitted over berenike's face, and turning to her husband archelaus, she said scornfully, 'i think books will prove to be the smallest danger.' "pothinus, the guardian of the two princesses' brothers, had formerly permitted them at times to visit their sisters. now they were no longer allowed to leave lochias, but neither cleopatra nor arsinoe made many inquiries about them. the little boys always retreated from their caresses, and the egyptian locks on their temples, which marked the age of childhood, and the egyptian garments which pothinus made them wear, lent them an unfamiliar aspect. "when it was reported that the romans were advancing from gaza, both girls were overpowered by passionate excitement. arsinoe's glittered in every glance; cleopatra understood how to conceal hers, but her colour often varied, and her face, which was not pink and white like her sister's, but--how shall i express it?" "i know what you mean," barine interrupted. "when i saw her, nothing seemed to me more charming than that pallid hue through which the crimson of her cheeks shines like the flame through yonder alabaster lamp, the tint of the peach through the down. i have seen it often in convalescents. aphrodite breathes this hue on the faces and figures of her favourites only, as the god of time imparts the green tinge to the bronze. nothing is more beautiful than when such women blush." "your sight is keen," replied archibius, smiling. "it seemed indeed as if not eos, but her faint reflection in the western horizon, was tinting the sky, when joy or shame sent the colour to her cheeks, but when wrath took possession of her--and ere the king's return this often happened-- she could look as if she were lifeless, like a marble statue, with lips as colourless as those of a corpse. "my father said that the blood of physkon and other degenerate ancestors, who had not learned to control their passions, was asserting itself in her also. but i must continue my story, or the messenger will interrupt me too soon. "gabinius was bringing back the king. but from the time of his approach with the roman army and the auxiliary troops of the ethnarch of judea, nothing more was learned of him or of antipater, who commanded the forces of hyrkanus; every one talked constantly of the roman general antony. he had led the troops successfully through the deserts between syria and the egyptian delta without losing a single man on the dangerous road by the sirbonian sea and barathra, where many an army had met destruction. not to antipater, but to him, had the jewish garrison of pelusium surrendered their city without striking a blow. he had conquered in two battles; and the second, where, as you know, berenike's husband fell after a brave resistance, had decided the destiny of the country. "from the time his name was first mentioned, neither of the girls could hear enough about him. it was said that he was the most aristocratic of aristocratic romans, the most reckless of the daring, the wildest of the riotous, and the handsomest of the handsome. "the waiting-maid from mantua, with whom cleopatra practised speaking the roman language, had often seen him, and had heard of him still more frequently--for his mode of life was the theme of gossip among all classes of roman men and women. his house was said to have descended in a direct line from hercules, and his figure and magnificent black beard recalled his ancestor. you know him, and know that the things reported of him are those which a young girl cannot hear with indifference, and at that time he was nearly five lustra younger than he is to-day. "how eagerly arsinoe listened when his name was uttered! how cleopatra flushed and paled when timagenes condemned him as an unprincipled libertine! true, antony was opening her father's path to his home. "the flute-player had not forgotten his daughters. he had remained aloof from the battle, but as soon as the victory was decided, he pressed on into the city. "the road led past our garden. "the king had barely time to send a runner to his daughters, fifteen minutes before his arrival, to say that he desired to greet them. they were hurriedly attired in festal garments, and both presented an appearance that might well gladden a father's heart. "cleopatra was not yet as tall as arsinoe, but, though only fourteen, she looked like a full-grown maiden, while her sister's face and figure showed that in years she was still a child. but she was no longer one in heart. bouquets for the returning sovereign had been arranged as well as haste permitted. each one of the girls held one in her hand when the train approached. "my parents accompanied them to the garden gate. i could see what was passing, but could hear distinctly only the voices of the men. "the king alighted from the travelling chariot, which was drawn by eight white median steeds. the chamberlain who attended him was obliged to support him. his face, reddened by his potations, fairly beamed as he greeted his daughters. his joyful surprise at the sight of both, but especially of cleopatra, was evident. true, he kissed and embraced arsinoe, but after that he had eyes and ears solely for cleopatra. "yet his younger daughter was very beautiful. away from her sister, she would have commanded the utmost admiration; but cleopatra was like the sun, beside which every other heavenly body pales. yet, no; she should not be compared to the sun. it was part of the fascination she exerted that every one felt compelled to gaze at her, to discover the source of the charm which emanated from her whole person. "antony, too, was enthralled by the spell as soon as he heard the first words from her lips. he had dashed up to the king's chariot, and seeing the two daughters by their father's side, he greeted them with a hasty salute. when, in reply to the question whether he might hope for her gratitude for bringing her father back to her so quickly, she said that as a daughter she sincerely rejoiced, but as an egyptian the task would be harder, he gazed more keenly at her. "i did not know her answer until later; but ere the last sound of her voice had died away, i saw the roman spring from his charger and fling the bridle to ammonius--the chamberlain who had assisted the king from the chariot--as if he were his groom. the woman-hunter had met with rare game in his pursuit of the fairest, and while he continued his conversation with cleopatra her father sometimes joined in, and his deep laughter was often heard. "no one would have recognized the earnest disciple of epicurus. we had often heard apt replies and original thoughts from cleopatra's lips, but she had rarely answered timagenes's jests with another. now she found-- one could see it by watching the speakers--a witty answer to many of antony's remarks. it seemed as if, for the first time, she had met some one for whom she deemed it worth while to bring into the field every gift of her deep and quick intelligence. yet she did not lose for a moment her womanly dignity; her eyes did not sparkle one whit more brightly than during an animated conversation with me or our father. "it was very different with arsinoe. when antony flung himself from his horse, she had moved nearer to her sister, but, as the roman continued to overlook her, her face crimsoned, she bit her scarlet lips. her whole attitude betrayed the agitation that mastered her, and i, who knew her, saw by the expression of her eyes and her quivering nostrils that she was on the point of bursting into tears. though cleopatra stood so much nearer to my heart, i felt sorry for her, and longed to touch the arm of the haughty roman, who indeed looked like the god of war, and whisper to him to take some little notice of the poor child, who was also a daughter of the king. "but a still harder blow was destined to fall upon arsinoe; for when the king, who had been holding both bouquets, warned antony that it was time to depart, he took one, and i heard him say in his deep, loud tones, 'whoever calls such flowers his daughters does not need so many others.' then he gave cleopatra the blossoms and, laying his hand upon his heart, expressed the hope of seeing her in alexandria, and swung himself upon the charger which the chamberlain, pale with fury, was still holding by the bridle. "the flute-player was delighted with his oldest daughter, and told my father he would have the young princess conveyed to the city on the day after the morrow. the next day he had things to do of which he desired her to have no knowledge. our father, in token of his gratitude, should retain for himself and his heirs the summer palace and the garden. he would see that the change of owner was entered in the land register. this was really done that very day. it was, indeed, his first act save one--the execution of his daughter berenike. "this ruler, who would have seemed to any one who beheld his meeting with his children a warm-hearted man and a tender father, at that time would have put half alexandria to the sword, had not antony interposed. he forbade the bloodshed, and honoured berenike's dead husband by a stately funeral. "as the steed bore him away, he turned back towards cleopatra; he could not have saluted arsinoe, for she had rushed into the garden, and her swollen face betrayed that she had shed burning tears. "from that hour she bitterly hated cleopatra. "on the day appointed, the king brought the princesses to the city with regal splendour. the alexandrians joyously greeted the royal sisters, as, seated on a golden throne, over which waved ostrich-feathers, they were borne in state down the street of the king, surrounded by dignitaries, army commanders, the body-guard, and the senate of the city. cleopatra received the adulation of the populace with gracious majesty, as if she were already queen. whoever had seen her as, with floods of tears, she bade us all farewell, assuring us of her gratitude and faithful remembrance, the sisterly affection she showed me--i had just been elected commander of the ephebi--" here archibius was interrupted by a slave, who announced the arrival of the messenger, and, rising hurriedly, he went to leonax's workshop, to which the man had been conducted, that he might speak to him alone. etext editor's bookmarks: shadow of the candlestick caught her eye before the light soul which ceases to regard death as a misfortune finds peace comments on the preparation of this e-text square brackets: the square brackets, i.e. [ ] are copied from the printed book, without change, except that a closing bracket "]" has been added to the stage directions. changes to the text: character names have been expanded. for example, cleopatra was cleo. three words in the preface were written in greek characters. these have been transliterated into roman characters, and are set off by angle brackets, for example, <melichroos>. all for love by john dryden introductory note the age of elizabeth, memorable for so many reasons in the history of england, was especially brilliant in literature, and, within literature, in the drama. with some falling off in spontaneity, the impulse to great dramatic production lasted till the long parliament closed the theaters in ; and when they were reopened at the restoration, in , the stage only too faithfully reflected the debased moral tone of the court society of charles ii. john dryden ( - ), the great representative figure in the literature of the latter part of the seventeenth century, exemplifies in his work most of the main tendencies of the time. he came into notice with a poem on the death of cromwell in , and two years later was composing couplets expressing his loyalty to the returned king. he married lady elizabeth howard, the daughter of a royalist house, and for practically all the rest of his life remained an adherent of the tory party. in he began writing for the stage, and during the next thirty years he attempted nearly all the current forms of drama. his "annus mirabilis" ( ), celebrating the english naval victories over the dutch, brought him in the poet laureateship. he had, meantime, begun the writing of those admirable critical essays, represented in the present series by his preface to the "fables" and his dedication to the translation of virgil. in these he shows himself not only a critic of sound and penetrating judgment, but the first master of modern english prose style. with "absalom and achitophel," a satire on the whig leader, shaftesbury, dryden entered a new phase, and achieved what is regarded as "the finest of all political satires." this was followed by "the medal," again directed against the whigs, and this by "mac flecknoe," a fierce attack on his enemy and rival shadwell. the government rewarded his services by a lucrative appointment. after triumphing in the three fields of drama, criticism, and satire, dryden appears next as a religious poet in his "religio laici," an exposition of the doctrines of the church of england from a layman's point of view. in the same year that the catholic james ii. ascended the throne, dryden joined the roman church, and two years later defended his new religion in "the hind and the panther," an allegorical debate between two animals standing respectively for catholicism and anglicanism. the revolution of put an end to dryden's prosperity; and after a short return to dramatic composition, he turned to translation as a means of supporting himself. he had already done something in this line; and after a series of translations from juvenal, persius, and ovid, he undertook, at the age of sixty-three, the enormous task of turning the entire works of virgil into english verse. how he succeeded in this, readers of the "aeneid" in a companion volume of these classics can judge for themselves. dryden's production closes with the collection of narrative poems called "fables," published in , in which year he died and was buried in the poet's corner in westminster abbey. dryden lived in an age of reaction against excessive religious idealism, and both his character and his works are marked by the somewhat unheroic traits of such a period. but he was, on the whole, an honest man, open minded, genial, candid, and modest; the wielder of a style, both in verse and prose, unmatched for clearness, vigor, and sanity. three types of comedy appeared in england in the time of dryden--the comedy of humors, the comedy of intrigue, and the comedy of manners--and in all he did work that classed him with the ablest of his contemporaries. he developed the somewhat bombastic type of drama known as the heroic play, and brought it to its height in his "conquest of granada"; then, becoming dissatisfied with this form, he cultivated the french classic tragedy on the model of racine. this he modified by combining with the regularity of the french treatment of dramatic action a richness of characterization in which he showed himself a disciple of shakespeare, and of this mixed type his best example is "all for love." here he has the daring to challenge comparison with his master, and the greatest testimony to his achievement is the fact that, as professor noyes has said, "fresh from shakespeare's 'antony and cleopatra,' we can still read with intense pleasure dryden's version of the story." dedication to the right honourable, thomas, earl of danby, viscount latimer, and baron osborne of kiveton, in yorkshire; lord high treasurer of england, one of his majesty's most honourable privy council, and knight of the most noble order of the garter. my lord, the gratitude of poets is so troublesome a virtue to great men, that you are often in danger of your own benefits: for you are threatened with some epistle, and not suffered to do good in quiet, or to compound for their silence whom you have obliged. yet, i confess, i neither am or ought to be surprised at this indulgence; for your lordship has the same right to favour poetry, which the great and noble have ever had-- carmen amat, quisquis carmine digna gerit. there is somewhat of a tie in nature betwixt those who are born for worthy actions, and those who can transmit them to posterity; and though ours be much the inferior part, it comes at least within the verge of alliance; nor are we unprofitable members of the commonwealth, when we animate others to those virtues, which we copy and describe from you. it is indeed their interest, who endeavour the subversion of governments, to discourage poets and historians; for the best which can happen to them, is to be forgotten. but such who, under kings, are the fathers of their country, and by a just and prudent ordering of affairs preserve it, have the same reason to cherish the chroniclers of their actions, as they have to lay up in safety the deeds and evidences of their estates; for such records are their undoubted titles to the love and reverence of after ages. your lordship's administration has already taken up a considerable part of the english annals; and many of its most happy years are owing to it. his majesty, the most knowing judge of men, and the best master, has acknowledged the ease and benefit he receives in the incomes of his treasury, which you found not only disordered, but exhausted. all things were in the confusion of a chaos, without form or method, if not reduced beyond it, even to annihilation; so that you had not only to separate the jarring elements, but (if that boldness of expression might be allowed me) to create them. your enemies had so embroiled the management of your office, that they looked on your advancement as the instrument of your ruin. and as if the clogging of the revenue, and the confusion of accounts, which you found in your entrance, were not sufficient, they added their own weight of malice to the public calamity, by forestalling the credit which should cure it. your friends on the other side were only capable of pitying, but not of aiding you; no further help or counsel was remaining to you, but what was founded on yourself; and that indeed was your security; for your diligence, your constancy, and your prudence, wrought most surely within, when they were not disturbed by any outward motion. the highest virtue is best to be trusted with itself; for assistance only can be given by a genius superior to that which it assists; and it is the noblest kind of debt, when we are only obliged to god and nature. this then, my lord, is your just commendation, and that you have wrought out yourself a way to glory, by those very means that were designed for your destruction: you have not only restored but advanced the revenues of your master, without grievance to the subject; and, as if that were little yet, the debts of the exchequer, which lay heaviest both on the crown, and on private persons, have by your conduct been established in a certainty of satisfaction. an action so much the more great and honourable, because the case was without the ordinary relief of laws; above the hopes of the afflicted and beyond the narrowness of the treasury to redress, had it been managed by a less able hand. it is certainly the happiest, and most unenvied part of all your fortune, to do good to many, while you do injury to none; to receive at once the prayers of the subject, and the praises of the prince; and, by the care of your conduct, to give him means of exerting the chiefest (if any be the chiefest) of his royal virtues, his distributive justice to the deserving, and his bounty and compassion to the wanting. the disposition of princes towards their people cannot be better discovered than in the choice of their ministers; who, like the animal spirits betwixt the soul and body, participate somewhat of both natures, and make the communication which is betwixt them. a king, who is just and moderate in his nature, who rules according to the laws, whom god has made happy by forming the temper of his soul to the constitution of his government, and who makes us happy, by assuming over us no other sovereignty than that wherein our welfare and liberty consists; a prince, i say, of so excellent a character, and so suitable to the wishes of all good men, could not better have conveyed himself into his people's apprehensions, than in your lordship's person; who so lively express the same virtues, that you seem not so much a copy, as an emanation of him. moderation is doubtless an establishment of greatness; but there is a steadiness of temper which is likewise requisite in a minister of state; so equal a mixture of both virtues, that he may stand like an isthmus betwixt the two encroaching seas of arbitrary power, and lawless anarchy. the undertaking would be difficult to any but an extraordinary genius, to stand at the line, and to divide the limits; to pay what is due to the great representative of the nation, and neither to enhance, nor to yield up, the undoubted prerogatives of the crown. these, my lord, are the proper virtues of a noble englishman, as indeed they are properly english virtues; no people in the world being capable of using them, but we who have the happiness to be born under so equal, and so well-poised a government;--a government which has all the advantages of liberty beyond a commonwealth, and all the marks of kingly sovereignty, without the danger of a tyranny. both my nature, as i am an englishman, and my reason, as i am a man, have bred in me a loathing to that specious name of a republic; that mock appearance of a liberty, where all who have not part in the government, are slaves; and slaves they are of a viler note, than such as are subjects to an absolute dominion. for no christian monarchy is so absolute, but it is circumscribed with laws; but when the executive power is in the law-makers, there is no further check upon them; and the people must suffer without a remedy, because they are oppressed by their representatives. if i must serve, the number of my masters, who were born my equals, would but add to the ignominy of my bondage. the nature of our government, above all others, is exactly suited both to the situation of our country, and the temper of the natives; an island being more proper for commerce and for defence, than for extending its dominions on the continent; for what the valour of its inhabitants might gain, by reason of its remoteness, and the casualties of the seas, it could not so easily preserve: and, therefore, neither the arbitrary power of one, in a monarchy, nor of many, in a commonwealth, could make us greater than we are. it is true, that vaster and more frequent taxes might be gathered, when the consent of the people was not asked or needed; but this were only by conquering abroad, to be poor at home; and the examples of our neighbours teach us, that they are not always the happiest subjects, whose kings extend their dominions farthest. since therefore we cannot win by an offensive war, at least, a land war, the model of our government seems naturally contrived for the defensive part; and the consent of a people is easily obtained to contribute to that power which must protect it. felices nimium, bona si sua norint, angligenae! and yet there are not wanting malcontents among us, who, surfeiting themselves on too much happiness, would persuade the people that they might be happier by a change. it was indeed the policy of their old forefather, when himself was fallen from the station of glory, to seduce mankind into the same rebellion with him, by telling him he might yet be freer than he was; that is more free than his nature would allow, or, if i may so say, than god could make him. we have already all the liberty which freeborn subjects can enjoy, and all beyond it is but licence. but if it be liberty of conscience which they pretend, the moderation of our church is such, that its practice extends not to the severity of persecution; and its discipline is withal so easy, that it allows more freedom to dissenters than any of the sects would allow to it. in the meantime, what right can be pretended by these men to attempt innovation in church or state? who made them the trustees, or to speak a little nearer their own language, the keepers of the liberty of england? if their call be extraordinary, let them convince us by working miracles; for ordinary vocation they can have none, to disturb the government under which they were born, and which protects them. he who has often changed his party, and always has made his interest the rule of it, gives little evidence of his sincerity for the public good; it is manifest he changes but for himself, and takes the people for tools to work his fortune. yet the experience of all ages might let him know, that they who trouble the waters first, have seldom the benefit of the fishing; as they who began the late rebellion enjoyed not the fruit of their undertaking, but were crushed themselves by the usurpation of their own instrument. neither is it enough for them to answer, that they only intend a reformation of the government, but not the subversion of it: on such pretence all insurrections have been founded; it is striking at the root of power, which is obedience. every remonstrance of private men has the seed of treason in it; and discourses, which are couched in ambiguous terms, are therefore the more dangerous, because they do all the mischief of open sedition, yet are safe from the punishment of the laws. these, my lord, are considerations, which i should not pass so lightly over, had i room to manage them as they deserve; for no man can be so inconsiderable in a nation, as not to have a share in the welfare of it; and if he be a true englishman, he must at the same time be fired with indignation, and revenge himself as he can on the disturbers of his country. and to whom could i more fitly apply myself than to your lordship, who have not only an inborn, but an hereditary loyalty? the memorable constancy and sufferings of your father, almost to the ruin of his estate, for the royal cause, were an earnest of that which such a parent and such an institution would produce in the person of a son. but so unhappy an occasion of manifesting your own zeal, in suffering for his present majesty, the providence of god, and the prudence of your administration, will, i hope, prevent; that, as your father's fortune waited on the unhappiness of his sovereign, so your own may participate of the better fate which attends his son. the relation which you have by alliance to the noble family of your lady, serves to confirm to you both this happy augury. for what can deserve a greater place in the english chronicle, than the loyalty and courage, the actions and death, of the general of an army, fighting for his prince and country? the honour and gallantry of the earl of lindsey is so illustrious a subject, that it is fit to adorn an heroic poem; for he was the protomartyr of the cause, and the type of his unfortunate royal master. yet after all, my lord, if i may speak my thoughts, you are happy rather to us than to yourself; for the multiplicity, the cares, and the vexations of your employment, have betrayed you from yourself, and given you up into the possession of the public. you are robbed of your privacy and friends, and scarce any hour of your life you can call your own. those, who envy your fortune, if they wanted not good-nature, might more justly pity it; and when they see you watched by a crowd of suitors, whose importunity it is impossible to avoid, would conclude, with reason, that you have lost much more in true content, than you have gained by dignity; and that a private gentleman is better attended by a single servant, than your lordship with so clamorous a train. pardon me, my lord, if i speak like a philosopher on this subject; the fortune which makes a man uneasy, cannot make him happy; and a wise man must think himself uneasy, when few of his actions are in his choice. this last consideration has brought me to another, and a very seasonable one for your relief; which is, that while i pity your want of leisure, i have impertinently detained you so long a time. i have put off my own business, which was my dedication, till it is so late, that i am now ashamed to begin it; and therefore i will say nothing of the poem, which i present to you, because i know not if you are like to have an hour, which, with a good conscience, you may throw away in perusing it; and for the author, i have only to beg the continuance of your protection to him, who is, my lord, your lordship's most obliged, most humble, and most obedient, servant, john dryden. preface the death of antony and cleopatra is a subject which has been treated by the greatest wits of our nation, after shakespeare; and by all so variously, that their example has given me the confidence to try myself in this bow of ulysses amongst the crowd of suitors, and, withal, to take my own measures, in aiming at the mark. i doubt not but the same motive has prevailed with all of us in this attempt; i mean the excellency of the moral: for the chief persons represented were famous patterns of unlawful love; and their end accordingly was unfortunate. all reasonable men have long since concluded, that the hero of the poem ought not to be a character of perfect virtue, for then he could not, without injustice, be made unhappy; nor yet altogether wicked, because he could not then be pitied. i have therefore steered the middle course; and have drawn the character of antony as favourably as plutarch, appian, and dion cassius would give me leave; the like i have observed in cleopatra. that which is wanting to work up the pity to a greater height, was not afforded me by the story; for the crimes of love, which they both committed, were not occasioned by any necessity, or fatal ignorance, but were wholly voluntary; since our passions are, or ought to be, within our power. the fabric of the play is regular enough, as to the inferior parts of it; and the unities of time, place, and action, more exactly observed, than perhaps the english theatre requires. particularly, the action is so much one, that it is the only one of the kind without episode, or underplot; every scene in the tragedy conducing to the main design, and every act concluding with a turn of it. the greatest error in the contrivance seems to be in the person of octavia; for, though i might use the privilege of a poet, to introduce her into alexandria, yet i had not enough considered, that the compassion she moved to herself and children was destructive to that which i reserved for antony and cleopatra; whose mutual love being founded upon vice, must lessen the favour of the audience to them, when virtue and innocence were oppressed by it. and, though i justified antony in some measure, by making octavia's departure to proceed wholly from herself; yet the force of the first machine still remained; and the dividing of pity, like the cutting of a river into many channels, abated the strength of the natural stream. but this is an objection which none of my critics have urged against me; and therefore i might have let it pass, if i could have resolved to have been partial to myself. the faults my enemies have found are rather cavils concerning little and not essential decencies; which a master of the ceremonies may decide betwixt us. the french poets, i confess, are strict observers of these punctilios: they would not, for example, have suffered cleopatra and octavia to have met; or, if they had met, there must have only passed betwixt them some cold civilities, but no eagerness of repartee, for fear of offending against the greatness of their characters, and the modesty of their sex. this objection i foresaw, and at the same time contemned; for i judged it both natural and probable, that octavia, proud of her new-gained conquest, would search out cleopatra to triumph over her; and that cleopatra, thus attacked, was not of a spirit to shun the encounter: and it is not unlikely, that two exasperated rivals should use such satire as i have put into their mouths; for, after all, though the one were a roman, and the other a queen, they were both women. it is true, some actions, though natural, are not fit to be represented; and broad obscenities in words ought in good manners to be avoided: expressions therefore are a modest clothing of our thoughts, as breeches and petticoats are of our bodies. if i have kept myself within the bounds of modesty, all beyond, it is but nicety and affectation; which is no more but modesty depraved into a vice. they betray themselves who are too quick of apprehension in such cases, and leave all reasonable men to imagine worse of them, than of the poet. honest montaigne goes yet further: nous ne sommes que ceremonie; la ceremonie nous emporte, et laissons la substance des choses. nous nous tenons aux branches, et abandonnons le tronc et le corps. nous avons appris aux dames de rougir, oyans seulement nommer ce qu'elles ne craignent aucunement a faire: nous n'osons appeller a droit nos membres, et ne craignons pas de les employer a toute sorte de debauche. la ceremonie nous defend d'exprimer par paroles les choses licites et naturelles, et nous l'en croyons; la raison nous defend de n'en faire point d'illicites et mauvaises, et personne ne l'en croit. my comfort is, that by this opinion my enemies are but sucking critics, who would fain be nibbling ere their teeth are come. yet, in this nicety of manners does the excellency of french poetry consist. their heroes are the most civil people breathing; but their good breeding seldom extends to a word of sense; all their wit is in their ceremony; they want the genius which animates our stage; and therefore it is but necessary, when they cannot please, that they should take care not to offend. but as the civilest man in the company is commonly the dullest, so these authors, while they are afraid to make you laugh or cry, out of pure good manners make you sleep. they are so careful not to exasperate a critic, that they never leave him any work; so busy with the broom, and make so clean a riddance that there is little left either for censure or for praise: for no part of a poem is worth our discommending, where the whole is insipid; as when we have once tasted of palled wine, we stay not to examine it glass by glass. but while they affect to shine in trifles, they are often careless in essentials. thus, their hippolytus is so scrupulous in point of decency, that he will rather expose himself to death, than accuse his stepmother to his father; and my critics i am sure will commend him for it. but we of grosser apprehensions are apt to think that this excess of generosity is not practicable, but with fools and madmen. this was good manners with a vengeance; and the audience is like to be much concerned at the misfortunes of this admirable hero. but take hippolytus out of his poetic fit, and i suppose he would think it a wiser part to set the saddle on the right horse, and choose rather to live with the reputation of a plain-spoken, honest man, than to die with the infamy of an incestuous villain. in the meantime we may take notice, that where the poet ought to have preserved the character as it was delivered to us by antiquity, when he should have given us the picture of a rough young man, of the amazonian strain, a jolly huntsman, and both by his profession and his early rising a mortal enemy to love, he has chosen to give him the turn of gallantry, sent him to travel from athens to paris, taught him to make love, and transformed the hippolytus of euripides into monsieur hippolyte. i should not have troubled myself thus far with french poets, but that i find our chedreux critics wholly form their judgments by them. but for my part, i desire to be tried by the laws of my own country; for it seems unjust to me, that the french should prescribe here, till they have conquered. our little sonneteers, who follow them, have too narrow souls to judge of poetry. poets themselves are the most proper, though i conclude not the only critics. but till some genius, as universal as aristotle, shall arise, one who can penetrate into all arts and sciences, without the practice of them, i shall think it reasonable, that the judgment of an artificer in his own art should be preferable to the opinion of another man; at least where he is not bribed by interest, or prejudiced by malice. and this, i suppose, is manifest by plain inductions: for, first, the crowd cannot be presumed to have more than a gross instinct of what pleases or displeases them: every man will grant me this; but then, by a particular kindness to himself, he draws his own stake first, and will be distinguished from the multitude, of which other men may think him one. but, if i come closer to those who are allowed for witty men, either by the advantage of their quality, or by common fame, and affirm that neither are they qualified to decide sovereignly concerning poetry, i shall yet have a strong party of my opinion; for most of them severally will exclude the rest, either from the number of witty men, or at least of able judges. but here again they are all indulgent to themselves; and every one who believes himself a wit, that is, every man, will pretend at the same time to a right of judging. but to press it yet further, there are many witty men, but few poets; neither have all poets a taste of tragedy. and this is the rock on which they are daily splitting. poetry, which is a picture of nature, must generally please; but it is not to be understood that all parts of it must please every man; therefore is not tragedy to be judged by a witty man, whose taste is only confined to comedy. nor is every man, who loves tragedy, a sufficient judge of it; he must understand the excellences of it too, or he will only prove a blind admirer, not a critic. from hence it comes that so many satires on poets, and censures of their writings, fly abroad. men of pleasant conversation (at least esteemed so), and endued with a trifling kind of fancy, perhaps helped out with some smattering of latin, are ambitious to distinguish themselves from the herd of gentlemen, by their poetry-- rarus enim ferme sensus communis in illa fortuna. and is not this a wretched affectation, not to be contented with what fortune has done for them, and sit down quietly with their estates, but they must call their wits in question, and needlessly expose their nakedness to public view? not considering that they are not to expect the same approbation from sober men, which they have found from their flatterers after the third bottle. if a little glittering in discourse has passed them on us for witty men, where was the necessity of undeceiving the world? would a man who has an ill title to an estate, but yet is in possession of it; would he bring it of his own accord, to be tried at westminster? we who write, if we want the talent, yet have the excuse that we do it for a poor subsistence; but what can be urged in their defence, who, not having the vocation of poverty to scribble, out of mere wantonness take pains to make themselves ridiculous? horace was certainly in the right, where he said, "that no man is satisfied with his own condition." a poet is not pleased, because he is not rich; and the rich are discontented, because the poets will not admit them of their number. thus the case is hard with writers: if they succeed not, they must starve; and if they do, some malicious satire is prepared to level them, for daring to please without their leave. but while they are so eager to destroy the fame of others, their ambition is manifest in their concernment; some poem of their own is to be produced, and the slaves are to be laid flat with their faces on the ground, that the monarch may appear in the greater majesty. dionysius and nero had the same longings, but with all their power they could never bring their business well about. 'tis true, they proclaimed themselves poets by sound of trumpet; and poets they were, upon pain of death to any man who durst call them otherwise. the audience had a fine time on't, you may imagine; they sat in a bodily fear, and looked as demurely as they could: for it was a hanging matter to laugh unseasonably; and the tyrants were suspicious, as they had reason, that their subjects had them in the wind; so, every man, in his own defence, set as good a face upon the business as he could. it was known beforehand that the monarchs were to be crowned laureates; but when the show was over, and an honest man was suffered to depart quietly, he took out his laughter which he had stifled, with a firm resolution never more to see an emperor's play, though he had been ten years a-making it. in the meantime the true poets were they who made the best markets: for they had wit enough to yield the prize with a good grace, and not contend with him who had thirty legions. they were sure to be rewarded, if they confessed themselves bad writers, and that was somewhat better than to be martyrs for their reputation. lucan's example was enough to teach them manners; and after he was put to death, for overcoming nero, the emperor carried it without dispute for the best poet in his dominions. no man was ambitious of that grinning honour; for if he heard the malicious trumpeter proclaiming his name before his betters, he knew there was but one way with him. maecenas took another course, and we know he was more than a great man, for he was witty too: but finding himself far gone in poetry, which seneca assures us was not his talent, he thought it his best way to be well with virgil and with horace; that at least he might be a poet at the second hand; and we see how happily it has succeeded with him; for his own bad poetry is forgotten, and their panegyrics of him still remain. but they who should be our patrons are for no such expensive ways to fame; they have much of the poetry of maecenas, but little of his liberality. they are for prosecuting horace and virgil, in the persons of their successors; for such is every man who has any part of their soul and fire, though in a less degree. some of their little zanies yet go further; for they are persecutors even of horace himself, as far as they are able, by their ignorant and vile imitations of him; by making an unjust use of his authority, and turning his artillery against his friends. but how would he disdain to be copied by such hands! i dare answer for him, he would be more uneasy in their company, than he was with crispinus, their forefather, in the holy way; and would no more have allowed them a place amongst the critics, than he would demetrius the mimic, and tigellius the buffoon; ------- demetri, teque, tigelli, discipulorum inter jubeo plorare cathedras. with what scorn would he look down on such miserable translators, who make doggerel of his latin, mistake his meaning, misapply his censures, and often contradict their own? he is fixed as a landmark to set out the bounds of poetry-- ------- saxum antiquum, ingens,-- limes agro positus, litem ut discerneret arvis. but other arms than theirs, and other sinews are required, to raise the weight of such an author; and when they would toss him against enemies-- genua labant, gelidus concrevit frigore sanguis. tum lapis ipse viri, vacuum per inane volatus, nec spatium evasit totum, nec pertulit ictum. for my part, i would wish no other revenge, either for myself, or the rest of the poets, from this rhyming judge of the twelve-penny gallery, this legitimate son of sternhold, than that he would subscribe his name to his censure, or (not to tax him beyond his learning) set his mark: for, should he own himself publicly, and come from behind the lion's skin, they whom he condemns would be thankful to him, they whom he praises would choose to be condemned; and the magistrates, whom he has elected, would modestly withdraw from their employment, to avoid the scandal of his nomination. the sharpness of his satire, next to himself, falls most heavily on his friends, and they ought never to forgive him for commending them perpetually the wrong way, and sometimes by contraries. if he have a friend, whose hastiness in writing is his greatest fault, horace would have taught him to have minced the matter, and to have called it readiness of thought, and a flowing fancy; for friendship will allow a man to christen an imperfection by the name of some neighbour virtue-- vellem in amicitia sic erraremus; et isti errori nomen virtus posuisset honestum. but he would never allowed him to have called a slow man hasty, or a hasty writer a slow drudge, as juvenal explains it-- ------- canibus pigris, scabieque vestusta laevibus, et siccae lambentibus ora lucernae, nomen erit, pardus, tigris, leo; si quid adhuc est quod fremit in terris violentius. yet lucretius laughs at a foolish lover, even for excusing the imperfections of his mistress-- nigra <melichroos> est, immunda et foetida <akosmos> balba loqui non quit, <traylizei>; muta pudens est, etc. but to drive it ad aethiopem cygnum is not to be endured. i leave him to interpret this by the benefit of his french version on the other side, and without further considering him, than i have the rest of my illiterate censors, whom i have disdained to answer, because they are not qualified for judges. it remains that i acquiant the reader, that i have endeavoured in this play to follow the practice of the ancients, who, as mr. rymer has judiciously observed, are and ought to be our masters. horace likewise gives it for a rule in his art of poetry-- ------- vos exemplaria graeca nocturna versate manu, versate diurna. yet, though their models are regular, they are too little for english tragedy; which requires to be built in a larger compass. i could give an instance in the oedipus tyrannus, which was the masterpiece of sophocles; but i reserve it for a more fit occasion, which i hope to have hereafter. in my style, i have professed to imitate the divine shakespeare; which that i might perform more freely, i have disencumbered myself from rhyme. not that i condemn my former way, but that this is more proper to my present purpose. i hope i need not to explain myself, that i have not copied my author servilely: words and phrases must of necessity receive a change in succeeding ages; but it is almost a miracle that much of his language remains so pure; and that he who began dramatic poetry amongst us, untaught by any, and as ben jonson tells us, without learning, should by the force of his own genius perform so much, that in a manner he has left no praise for any who come after him. the occasion is fair, and the subject would be pleasant to handle the difference of styles betwixt him and fletcher, and wherein, and how far they are both to be imitated. but since i must not be over-confident of my own performance after him, it will be prudence in me to be silent. yet, i hope, i may affirm, and without vanity, that, by imitating him, i have excelled myself throughout the play; and particularly, that i prefer the scene betwixt antony and ventidius in the first act, to anything which i have written in this kind. prologue what flocks of critics hover here to-day, as vultures wait on armies for their prey, all gaping for the carcase of a play! with croaking notes they bode some dire event, and follow dying poets by the scent. ours gives himself for gone; y' have watched your time: he fights this day unarmed,--without his rhyme;-- and brings a tale which often has been told; as sad as dido's; and almost as old. his hero, whom you wits his bully call, bates of his mettle, and scarce rants at all; he's somewhat lewd; but a well-meaning mind; weeps much; fights little; but is wond'rous kind. in short, a pattern, and companion fit, for all the keeping tonies of the pit. i could name more: a wife, and mistress too; both (to be plain) too good for most of you: the wife well-natured, and the mistress true. now, poets, if your fame has been his care, allow him all the candour you can spare. a brave man scorns to quarrel once a day; like hectors in at every petty fray. let those find fault whose wit's so very small, they've need to show that they can think at all; errors, like straws, upon the surface flow; he who would search for pearls, must dive below. fops may have leave to level all they can; as pigmies would be glad to lop a man. half-wits are fleas; so little and so light, we scarce could know they live, but that they bite. but, as the rich, when tired with daily feasts, for change, become their next poor tenant's guests; drink hearty draughts of ale from plain brown bowls, and snatch the homely rasher from the coals: so you, retiring from much better cheer, for once, may venture to do penance here. and since that plenteous autumn now is past, whose grapes and peaches have indulged your taste, take in good part, from our poor poet's board, such rivelled fruits as winter can afford. all for love or the world well lost a tragedy dramatis personae mark antony. ventidius, his general. dolabella, his friend. alexas, the queen's eunuch. serapion, priest of isis. myris, another priest. servants to antony. cleopatra, queen of egypt. octavia, antony's wife. charmion, cleopatra's maid. iras, cleopatra's maid. antony's two little daughters. scene.--alexandria. act i scene i.--the temple of isis enter serapion, myris, priests of isis serapion. portents and prodigies have grown so frequent, that they have lost their name. our fruitful nile flowed ere the wonted season, with a torrent so unexpected, and so wondrous fierce, that the wild deluge overtook the haste even of the hinds that watched it: men and beasts were borne above the tops of trees, that grew on the utmost margin of the water-mark. then, with so swift an ebb the flood drove backward, it slipt from underneath the scaly herd: here monstrous phocae panted on the shore; forsaken dolphins there with their broad tails, lay lashing the departing waves: hard by them, sea horses floundering in the slimy mud, tossed up their heads, and dashed the ooze about them. enter alexas behind them myris. avert these omens, heaven! serapion. last night, between the hours of twelve and one, in a lone aisle of the temple while i walked, a whirlwind rose, that, with a violent blast, shook all the dome: the doors around me clapt; the iron wicket, that defends the vault, where the long race of ptolemies is laid, burst open, and disclosed the mighty dead. from out each monument, in order placed, an armed ghost starts up: the boy-king last reared his inglorious head. a peal of groans then followed, and a lamentable voice cried, egypt is no more! my blood ran back, my shaking knees against each other knocked; on the cold pavement down i fell entranced, and so unfinished left the horrid scene. alexas. and dreamed you this? or did invent the story, [showing himself.] to frighten our egyptian boys withal, and train them up, betimes, in fear of priesthood? serapion. my lord, i saw you not, nor meant my words should reach you ears; but what i uttered was most true. alexas. a foolish dream, bred from the fumes of indigested feasts, and holy luxury. serapion. i know my duty: this goes no further. alexas. 'tis not fit it should; nor would the times now bear it, were it true. all southern, from yon hills, the roman camp hangs o'er us black and threatening like a storm just breaking on our heads. serapion. our faint egyptians pray for antony; but in their servile hearts they own octavius. myris. why then does antony dream out his hours, and tempts not fortune for a noble day, which might redeem what actium lost? alexas. he thinks 'tis past recovery. serapion. yet the foe seems not to press the siege. alexas. oh, there's the wonder. maecenas and agrippa, who can most with caesar, are his foes. his wife octavia, driven from his house, solicits her revenge; and dolabella, who was once his friend, upon some private grudge, now seeks his ruin: yet still war seems on either side to sleep. serapion. 'tis strange that antony, for some days past, has not beheld the face of cleopatra; but here, in isis' temple, lives retired, and makes his heart a prey to black despair. alexas. 'tis true; and we much fear he hopes by absence to cure his mind of love. serapion. if he be vanquished, or make his peace, egypt is doomed to be a roman province; and our plenteous harvests must then redeem the scarceness of their soil. while antony stood firm, our alexandria rivalled proud rome (dominion's other seat), and fortune striding, like a vast colossus, could fix an equal foot of empire here. alexas. had i my wish, these tyrants of all nature, who lord it o'er mankind, rhould perish,--perish, each by the other's sword; but, since our will is lamely followed by our power, we must depend on one; with him to rise or fall. serapion. how stands the queen affected? alexas. oh, she dotes, she dotes, serapion, on this vanquished man, and winds herself about his mighty ruins; whom would she yet forsake, yet yield him up, this hunted prey, to his pursuer's hands, she might preserve us all: but 'tis in vain-- this changes my designs, this blasts my counsels, and makes me use all means to keep him here. whom i could wish divided from her arms, far as the earth's deep centre. well, you know the state of things; no more of your ill omens and black prognostics; labour to confirm the people's hearts. enter ventidius, talking aside with a gentleman of antony's serapion. these romans will o'erhear us. but who's that stranger? by his warlike port, his fierce demeanour, and erected look, he's of no vulgar note. alexas. oh, 'tis ventidius, our emperor's great lieutenant in the east, who first showed rome that parthia could be conquered. when antony returned from syria last, he left this man to guard the roman frontiers. serapion. you seem to know him well. alexas. too well. i saw him at cilicia first, when cleopatra there met antony: a mortal foe was to us, and egypt. but,--let me witness to the worth i hate,-- a braver roman never drew a sword; firm to his prince, but as a friend, not slave, he ne'er was of his pleasures; but presides o'er all his cooler hours, and morning counsels: in short the plainness, fierceness, rugged virtue, of an old true-stampt roman lives in him. his coming bodes i know not what of ill to our affairs. withdraw to mark him better; and i'll acquaint you why i sought you here, and what's our present work. [they withdraw to a corner of the stage; and ventidius, with the other, comes forward to the front.] ventidius. not see him; say you? i say, i must, and will. gentleman. he has commanded, on pain of death, none should approach his presence. ventidius. i bring him news will raise his drooping spirits, give him new life. gentleman. he sees not cleopatra. ventidius. would he had never seen her! gentleman. he eats not, drinks not, sleeps not, has no use of anything, but thought; or if he talks, 'tis to himself, and then 'tis perfect raving: then he defies the world, and bids it pass, sometimes he gnaws his lips, and curses loud the boy octavius; then he draws his mouth into a scornful smile, and cries, "take all, the world's not worth my care." ventidius. just, just his nature. virtue's his path; but sometimes 'tis too narrow for his vast soul; and then he starts out wide, and bounds into a vice, that bears him far from his first course, and plunges him in ills: but, when his danger makes him find his faults, quick to observe, and full of sharp remorse, he censures eagerly his own misdeeds, judging himself with malice to himself, and not forgiving what as man he did, because his other parts are more than man.-- he must not thus be lost. [alexas and the priests come forward.] alexas. you have your full instructions, now advance, proclaim your orders loudly. serapion. romans, egyptians, hear the queen's command. thus cleopatra bids: let labour cease; to pomp and triumphs give this happy day, that gave the world a lord: 'tis antony's. live, antony; and cleopatra live! be this the general voice sent up to heaven, and every public place repeat this echo. ventidius. fine pageantry! [aside.] serapion. set out before your doors the images of all your sleeping fathers, with laurels crowned; with laurels wreath your posts, and strew with flowers the pavement; let the priests do present sacrifice; pour out the wine, and call the gods to join with you in gladness. ventidius. curse on the tongue that bids this general joy! can they be friends of antony, who revel when antony's in danger? hide, for shame, you romans, your great grandsires' images, for fear their souls should animate their marbles, to blush at their degenerate progeny. alexas. a love, which knows no bounds, to antony, would mark the day with honours, when all heaven laboured for him, when each propitious star stood wakeful in his orb, to watch that hour and shed his better influence. her own birthday our queen neglected like a vulgar fate, that passed obscurely by. ventidius. would it had slept, divided far from his; till some remote and future age had called it out, to ruin some other prince, not him! alexas. your emperor, though grown unkind, would be more gentle, than to upbraid my queen for loving him too well. ventidius. does the mute sacrifice upbraid the priest! he knows him not his executioner. oh, she has decked his ruin with her love, led him in golden bands to gaudy slaughter, and made perdition pleasing: she has left him the blank of what he was. i tell thee, eunuch, she has quite unmanned him. can any roman see, and know him now, thus altered from the lord of half mankind, unbent, unsinewed, made a woman's toy, shrunk from the vast extent of all his honours, and crampt within a corner of the world? o antony! thou bravest soldier, and thou best of friends! bounteous as nature; next to nature's god! couldst thou but make new worlds, so wouldst thou give them, as bounty were thy being! rough in battle, as the first romans when they went to war; yet after victory more pitiful than all their praying virgins left at home! alexas. would you could add, to those more shining virtues, his truth to her who loves him. ventidius. would i could not! but wherefore waste i precious hours with thee! thou art her darling mischief, her chief engine, antony's other fate. go, tell thy queen, ventidius is arrived, to end her charms. let your egyptian timbrels play alone, nor mix effeminate sounds with roman trumpets, you dare not fight for antony; go pray and keep your cowards' holiday in temples. [exeunt alexas, serapion.] re-enter the gentleman of m. antony gent. the emperor approaches, and commands, on pain of death, that none presume to stay. gent. i dare not disobey him. [going out with the other.] ventidius. well, i dare. but i'll observe him first unseen, and find which way his humour drives: the rest i'll venture. [withdraws.] enter antony, walking with a disturbed motion before he speaks antony. they tell me, 'tis my birthday, and i'll keep it with double pomp of sadness. 'tis what the day deserves, which gave me breath. why was i raised the meteor of the world, hung in the skies, and blazing as i travelled, 'till all my fires were spent; and then cast downward, to be trod out by caesar? ventidius. [aside.] on my soul, 'tis mournful, wondrous mournful! antony. count thy gains. now, antony, wouldst thou be born for this? glutton of fortune, thy devouring youth has starved thy wanting age. ventidius. how sorrow shakes him! [aside.] so, now the tempest tears him up by the roots, and on the ground extends the noble ruin. [antony having thrown himself down.] lie there, thou shadow of an emperor; the place thou pressest on thy mother earth is all thy empire now: now it contains thee; some few days hence, and then 'twill be too large, when thou'rt contracted in thy narrow urn, shrunk to a few ashes; then octavia (for cleopatra will not live to see it), octavia then will have thee all her own, and bear thee in her widowed hand to caesar; caesar will weep, the crocodile will weep, to see his rival of the universe lie still and peaceful there. i'll think no more on't. antony. give me some music, look that it be sad. i'll soothe my melancholy, till i swell, and burst myself with sighing.-- [soft music.] 'tis somewhat to my humour; stay, i fancy i'm now turned wild, a commoner of nature; of all forsaken, and forsaking all; live in a shady forest's sylvan scene, stretched at my length beneath some blasted oak, i lean my head upon the mossy bark, and look just of a piece as i grew from it; my uncombed locks, matted like mistletoe, hang o'er my hoary face; a murm'ring brook runs at my foot. ventidius. methinks i fancy myself there too. antony. the herd come jumping by me, and fearless, quench their thirst, while i look on, and take me for their fellow-citizen. more of this image, more; it lulls my thoughts. [soft music again.] ventidius. i must disturb him; i can hold no longer. [stands before him.] antony. [starting up]. art thou ventidius? ventidius. are you antony? i'm liker what i was, than you to him i left you last. antony. i'm angry. ventidius. so am i. antony. i would be private: leave me. ventidius. sir, i love you, and therefore will not leave you. antony. will not leave me! where have you learnt that answer? who am i? ventidius. my emperor; the man i love next heaven: if i said more, i think 'twere scare a sin: you're all that's good, and god-like. antony. all that's wretched. you will not leave me then? ventidius. 'twas too presuming to say i would not; but i dare not leave you: and, 'tis unkind in you to chide me hence so soon, when i so far have come to see you. antony. now thou hast seen me, art thou satisfied? for, if a friend, thou hast beheld enough; and, if a foe, too much. ventidius. look, emperor, this is no common dew. [weeping.] i have not wept this forty years; but now my mother comes afresh into my eyes; i cannot help her softness. antony. by heavens, he weeps! poor good old man, he weeps! the big round drops course one another down the furrows of his cheeks.--stop them, ventidius, or i shall blush to death, they set my shame, that caused them, full before me. ventidius. i'll do my best. antony. sure there's contagion in the tears of friends: see, i have caught it too. believe me, 'tis not for my own griefs, but thine.--nay, father! ventidius. emperor. antony. emperor! why, that's the style of victory; the conqu'ring soldier, red with unfelt wounds, salutes his general so; but never more shall that sound reach my ears. ventidius. i warrant you. antony. actium, actium! oh!-- ventidius. it sits too near you. antony. here, here it lies a lump of lead by day, and, in my short, distracted, nightly slumbers, the hag that rides my dreams.-- ventidius. out with it; give it vent. antony. urge not my shame. i lost a battle,-- ventidius. so has julius done. antony. thou favour'st me, and speak'st not half thou think'st; for julius fought it out, and lost it fairly. but antony-- ventidius. nay, stop not. antony. antony-- well, thou wilt have it,--like a coward, fled, fled while his soldiers fought; fled first, ventidius. thou long'st to curse me, and i give thee leave. i know thou cam'st prepared to rail. ventidius. i did. antony. i'll help thee.--i have been a man, ventidius. ventidius. yes, and a brave one! but-- antony. i know thy meaning. but i have lost my reason, have disgraced the name of soldier, with inglorious ease. in the full vintage of my flowing honours, sat still, and saw it prest by other hands. fortune came smiling to my youth, and wooed it, and purple greatness met my ripened years. when first i came to empire, i was borne on tides of people, crowding to my triumphs; the wish of nations, and the willing world received me as its pledge of future peace; i was so great, so happy, so beloved, fate could not ruin me; till i took pains, and worked against my fortune, child her from me, and returned her loose; yet still she came again. my careless days, and my luxurious nights, at length have wearied her, and now she's gone, gone, gone, divorced for ever. help me, soldier, to curse this madman, this industrious fool, who laboured to be wretched: pr'ythee, curse me. ventidius. no. antony. why? ventidius. you are too sensible already of what you've done, too conscious of your failings; and, like a scorpion, whipt by others first to fury, sting yourself in mad revenge. i would bring balm, and pour it in your wounds, cure your distempered mind, and heal your fortunes. antony. i know thou would'st. ventidius. i will. antony. ha, ha, ha, ha! ventidius. you laugh. antony. i do, to see officious love. give cordials to the dead. ventidius. you would be lost, then? antony. i am. ventidius. i say you are not. try your fortune. antony. i have, to the utmost. dost thou think me desperate, without just cause? no, when i found all lost beyond repair, i hid me from the world, and learnt to scorn it here; which now i do so heartily, i think it is not worth the cost of keeping. ventidius. caesar thinks not so; he'll thank you for the gift he could not take. you would be killed like tully, would you? do, hold out your throat to caesar, and die tamely. antony. no, i can kill myself; and so resolve. ventidius. i can die with you too, when time shall serve; but fortune calls upon us now to live, to fight, to conquer. antony. sure thou dream'st, ventidius. ventidius. no; 'tis you dream; you sleep away your hours in desperate sloth, miscalled philosophy. up, up, for honour's sake; twelve legions wait you, and long to call you chief: by painful journeys i led them, patient both of heat and hunger, down form the parthian marches to the nile. 'twill do you good to see their sunburnt faces, their scarred cheeks, and chopt hands: there's virtue in them. they'll sell those mangled limbs at dearer rates than yon trim bands can buy. antony. where left you them? ventidius. i said in lower syria. antony. bring them hither; there may be life in these. ventidius. they will not come. antony. why didst thou mock my hopes with promised aids, to double my despair? they're mutinous. ventidius. most firm and loyal. antony. yet they will not march to succour me. o trifler! ventidius. they petition you would make haste to head them. antony. i'm besieged. ventidius. there's but one way shut up: how came i hither? antony. i will not stir. ventidius. they would perhaps desire a better reason. antony. i have never used my soldiers to demand a reason of my actions. why did they refuse to march? ventidius. they said they would not fight for cleopatra. antony. what was't they said? ventidius. they said they would not fight for cleopatra. why should they fight indeed, to make her conquer, and make you more a slave? to gain you kingdoms, which, for a kiss, at your next midnight feast, you'll sell to her? then she new-names her jewels, and calls this diamond such or such a tax; each pendant in her ear shall be a province. antony. ventidius, i allow your tongue free licence on all my other faults; but, on your life, no word of cleopatra: she deserves more worlds than i can lose. ventidius. behold, you powers, to whom you have intrusted humankind! see europe, afric, asia, put in balance, and all weighed down by one light, worthless woman! i think the gods are antonies, and give, like prodigals, this nether world away to none but wasteful hands. antony. you grow presumptuous. ventidius. i take the privilege of plain love to speak. antony. plain love! plain arrogance, plain insolence! thy men are cowards; thou, an envious traitor; who, under seeming honesty, hast vented the burden of thy rank, o'erflowing gall. o that thou wert my equal; great in arms as the first caesar was, that i might kill thee without a stain to honour! ventidius. you may kill me; you have done more already,--called me traitor. antony. art thou not one? ventidius. for showing you yourself, which none else durst have done? but had i been that name, which i disdain to speak again, i needed not have sought your abject fortunes, come to partake your fate, to die with you. what hindered me to have led my conquering eagles to fill octavius' bands? i could have been a traitor then, a glorious, happy traitor, and not have been so called. antony. forgive me, soldier; i've been too passionate. ventidius. you thought me false; thought my old age betrayed you: kill me, sir, pray, kill me; yet you need not, your unkindness has left your sword no work. antony. i did not think so; i said it in my rage: pr'ythee, forgive me. why didst thou tempt my anger, by discovery of what i would not hear? ventidius. no prince but you could merit that sincerity i used, nor durst another man have ventured it; but you, ere love misled your wandering eyes, were sure the chief and best of human race, framed in the very pride and boast of nature; so perfect, that the gods, who formed you, wondered at their own skill, and cried--a lucky hit has mended our design. their envy hindered, else you had been immortal, and a pattern, when heaven would work for ostentation's sake to copy out again. antony. but cleopatra-- go on; for i can bear it now. ventidius. no more. antony. thou dar'st not trust my passion, but thou may'st; thou only lov'st, the rest have flattered me. ventidius. heaven's blessing on your heart for that kind word! may i believe you love me? speak again. antony. indeed i do. speak this, and this, and this. [hugging him.] thy praises were unjust; but, i'll deserve them, and yet mend all. do with me what thou wilt; lead me to victory! thou know'st the way. ventidius. and, will you leave this-- antony. pr'ythee, do not curse her, and i will leave her; though, heaven knows, i love beyond life, conquest, empire, all, but honour; but i will leave her. ventidius. that's my royal master; and, shall we fight? antony. i warrant thee, old soldier. thou shalt behold me once again in iron; and at the head of our old troops, that beat the parthians, cry aloud--come, follow me! ventidius. oh, now i hear my emperor! in that word octavius fell. gods, let me see that day, and, if i have ten years behind, take all: i'll thank you for the exchange. antony. o cleopatra! ventidius. again? antony. i've done: in that last sigh she went. caesar shall know what 'tis to force a lover from all he holds most dear. ventidius. methinks, you breathe another soul: your looks are more divine; you speak a hero, and you move a god. antony. oh, thou hast fired me; my soul's up in arms, and mans each part about me: once again, that noble eagerness of fight has seized me; that eagerness with which i darted upward to cassius' camp: in vain the steepy hill opposed my way; in vain a war of spears sung round my head, and planted on my shield; i won the trenches, while my foremost men lagged on the plain below. ventidius. ye gods, ye gods, for such another honour! antony. come on, my soldier! our hearts and arms are still the same: i long once more to meet our foes; that thou and i, like time and death, marching before our troops, may taste fate to them; mow them out a passage, and, entering where the foremost squadrons yield, begin the noble harvest of the field. [exeunt.] act ii scene i enter cleopatra, iras, and alexas cleopatra. what shall i do, or whither shall i turn? ventidius has o'ercome, and he will go. alexas. he goes to fight for you. cleopatra. then he would see me, ere he went to fight: flatter me not: if once he goes, he's lost, and all my hopes destroyed. alexas. does this weak passion become a mighty queen? cleopatra. i am no queen: is this to be a queen, to be besieged by yon insulting roman, and to wait each hour the victor's chain? these ills are small: for antony is lost, and i can mourn for nothing else but him. now come, octavius, i have no more to lose! prepare thy bands; i'm fit to be a captive: antony has taught my mind the fortune of a slave. iras. call reason to assist you. cleopatra. i have none, and none would have: my love's a noble madness, which shows the cause deserved it. moderate sorrow fits vulgar love, and for a vulgar man: but i have loved with such transcendent passion, i soared, at first, quite out of reason's view, and now am lost above it. no, i'm proud 'tis thus: would antony could see me now think you he would not sigh, though he must leave me? sure he would sigh; for he is noble-natured, and bears a tender heart: i know him well. ah, no, i know him not; i knew him once, but now 'tis past. iras. let it be past with you: forget him, madam. cleopatra. never, never, iras. he once was mine; and once, though now 'tis gone, leaves a faint image of possession still. alexas. think him inconstant, cruel, and ungrateful. cleopatra. i cannot: if i could, those thoughts were vain. faithless, ungrateful, cruel, though he be, i still must love him. enter charmion now, what news, my charmion? will he be kind? and will he not forsake me? am i to live, or die?--nay, do i live? or am i dead? for when he gave his answer, fate took the word, and then i lived or died. charmion. i found him, madam-- cleopatra. a long speech preparing? if thou bring'st comfort, haste, and give it me, for never was more need. iras. i know he loves you. cleopatra. had he been kind, her eyes had told me so, before her tongue could speak it: now she studies, to soften what he said; but give me death, just as he sent it, charmion, undisguised, and in the words he spoke. charmion. i found him, then, encompassed round, i think, with iron statues; so mute, so motionless his soldiers stood, while awfully he cast his eyes about, and every leader's hopes or fears surveyed: methought he looked resolved, and yet not pleased. when he beheld me struggling in the crowd, he blushed, and bade make way. alexas. there's comfort yet. charmion. ventidius fixed his eyes upon my passage severely, as he meant to frown me back, and sullenly gave place: i told my message, just as you gave it, broken and disordered; i numbered in it all your sighs and tears, and while i moved your pitiful request, that you but only begged a last farewell, he fetched an inward groan; and every time i named you, sighed, as if his heart were breaking, but, shunned my eyes, and guiltily looked down: he seemed not now that awful antony, who shook and armed assembly with his nod; but, making show as he would rub his eyes, disguised and blotted out a falling tear. cleopatra. did he then weep? and was i worth a tear? if what thou hast to say be not as pleasing, tell me no more, but let me die contented. charmion. he bid me say,--he knew himself so well, he could deny you nothing, if he saw you; and therefore-- cleopatra. thou wouldst say, he would not see me? charmion. and therefore begged you not to use a power, which he could ill resist; yet he should ever respect you, as he ought. cleopatra. is that a word for antony to use to cleopatra? o that faint word, respect! how i disdain it! disdain myself, for loving after it! he should have kept that word for cold octavia. respect is for a wife: am i that thing, that dull, insipid lump, without desires, and without power to give them? alexas. you misjudge; you see through love, and that deludes your sight; as, what is straight, seems crooked through the water: but i, who bear my reason undisturbed, can see this antony, this dreaded man, a fearful slave, who fain would run away, and shuns his master's eyes: if you pursue him, my life on't, he still drags a chain along. that needs must clog his flight. cleopatra. could i believe thee!-- alexas. by every circumstance i know he loves. true, he's hard prest, by interest and by honour; yet he but doubts, and parleys, and casts out many a long look for succour. cleopatra. he sends word, he fears to see my face. alexas. and would you more? he shows his weakness who declines the combat, and you must urge your fortune. could he speak more plainly? to my ears, the message sounds-- come to my rescue, cleopatra, come; come, free me from ventidius; from my tyrant: see me, and give me a pretence to leave him!-- i hear his trumpets. this way he must pass. please you, retire a while; i'll work him first, that he may bend more easy. cleopatra. you shall rule me; but all, i fear, in vain. [exit with charmion and iras.] alexas. i fear so too; though i concealed my thoughts, to make her bold; but 'tis our utmost means, and fate befriend it! [withdraws.] enter lictors with fasces; one bearing the eagle; then enter antony with ventidius, followed by other commanders antony. octavius is the minion of blind chance, but holds from virtue nothing. ventidius. has he courage? antony. but just enough to season him from coward. oh, 'tis the coldest youth upon a charge, the most deliberate fighter! if he ventures (as in illyria once, they say, he did, to storm a town), 'tis when he cannot choose; when all the world have fixt their eyes upon him; and then he lives on that for seven years after; but, at a close revenge he never fails. ventidius. i heard you challenged him. antony. i did, ventidius. what think'st thou was his answer? 'twas so tame!-- he said, he had more ways than one to die; i had not. ventidius. poor! antony. he has more ways than one; but he would choose them all before that one. ventidius. he first would choose an ague, or a fever. antony. no; it must be an ague, not a fever; he has not warmth enough to die by that. ventidius. or old age and a bed. antony. ay, there's his choice, he would live, like a lamp, to the last wink, and crawl the utmost verge of life. o hercules! why should a man like this, who dares not trust his fate for one great action, be all the care of heaven? why should he lord it o'er fourscore thousand men, of whom each one is braver than himself? ventidius. you conquered for him: philippi knows it; there you shared with him that empire, which your sword made all your own. antony. fool that i was, upon my eagle's wings i bore this wren, till i was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me. good heavens, is this,--is this the man who braves me? who bids my age make way? drives me before him, to the world's ridge, and sweeps me off like rubbish? ventidius. sir, we lose time; the troops are mounted all. antony. then give the word to march: i long to leave this prison of a town, to join thy legions; and, in open field, once more to show my face. lead, my deliverer. enter alexas alexas. great emperor, in mighty arms renowned above mankind, but, in soft pity to the opprest, a god; this message sends the mournful cleopatra to her departing lord. ventidius. smooth sycophant! alexas. a thousand wishes, and ten thousand prayers, millions of blessings wait you to the wars; millions of sighs and tears she sends you too, and would have sent as many dear embraces to your arms, as many parting kisses to your lips; but those, she fears, have wearied you already. ventidius. [aside.] false crocodile! alexas. and yet she begs not now, you would not leave her; that were a wish too mighty for her hopes, too presuming for her low fortune, and your ebbing love; that were a wish for her more prosperous days, her blooming beauty, and your growing kindness. antony. [aside.] well, i must man it out:--what would the queen? alexas. first, to these noble warriors, who attend your daring courage in the chase of fame,-- too daring, and too dangerous for her quiet,-- she humbly recommends all she holds dear, all her own cares and fears,--the care of you. ventidius. yes, witness actium. antony. let him speak, ventidius. alexas. you, when his matchless valour bears him forward, with ardour too heroic, on his foes, fall down, as she would do, before his feet; lie in his way, and stop the paths of death: tell him, this god is not invulnerable; that absent cleopatra bleeds in him; and, that you may remember her petition, she begs you wear these trifles, as a pawn, which, at your wished return, she will redeem [gives jewels to the commanders.] with all the wealth of egypt: this to the great ventidius she presents, whom she can never count her enemy, because he loves her lord. ventidius. tell her, i'll none on't; i'm not ashamed of honest poverty; not all the diamonds of the east can bribe ventidius from his faith. i hope to see these and the rest of all her sparkling store, where they shall more deservingly be placed. antony. and who must wear them then? ventidius. the wronged octavia. antony. you might have spared that word. ventidius. and he that bribe. antony. but have i no remembrance? alexas. yes, a dear one; your slave the queen-- antony. my mistress. alexas. then your mistress; your mistress would, she says, have sent her soul, but that you had long since; she humbly begs this ruby bracelet, set with bleeding hearts, the emblems of her own, may bind your arm. [presenting a bracelet.] ventidius. now, my best lord,--in honour's name, i ask you, for manhood's sake, and for your own dear safety,-- touch not these poisoned gifts, infected by the sender; touch them not; myriads of bluest plagues lie underneath them, and more than aconite has dipt the silk. antony. nay, now you grow too cynical, ventidius: a lady's favours may be worn with honour. what, to refuse her bracelet! on my soul, when i lie pensive in my tent alone, 'twill pass the wakeful hours of winter nights, to tell these pretty beads upon my arm, to count for every one a soft embrace, a melting kiss at such and such a time: and now and then the fury of her love, when----and what harm's in this? alexas. none, none, my lord, but what's to her, that now 'tis past for ever. antony. [going to tie it.] we soldiers are so awkward--help me tie it. alexas. in faith, my lord, we courtiers too are awkward in these affairs: so are all men indeed: even i, who am not one. but shall i speak? antony. yes, freely. alexas. then, my lord, fair hands alone are fit to tie it; she, who sent it can. ventidius. hell, death! this eunuch pander ruins you. you will not see her? [alexas whispers an attendant, who goes out.] antony. but to take my leave. ventidius. then i have washed an aethiop. you're undone; y' are in the toils; y' are taken; y' are destroyed: her eyes do caesar's work. antony. you fear too soon. i'm constant to myself: i know my strength; and yet she shall not think me barbarous neither, born in the depths of afric: i am a roman, bred in the rules of soft humanity. a guest, and kindly used, should bid farewell. ventidius. you do not know how weak you are to her, how much an infant: you are not proof against a smile, or glance: a sigh will quite disarm you. antony. see, she comes! now you shall find your error.--gods, i thank you: i formed the danger greater than it was, and now 'tis near, 'tis lessened. ventidius. mark the end yet. enter cleopatra, charmion, and iras antony. well, madam, we are met. cleopatra. is this a meeting? then, we must part? antony. we must. cleopatra. who says we must? antony. our own hard fates. cleopatra. we make those fates ourselves. antony. yes, we have made them; we have loved each other, into our mutual ruin. cleopatra. the gods have seen my joys with envious eyes; i have no friends in heaven; and all the world, as 'twere the business of mankind to part us, is armed against my love: even you yourself join with the rest; you, you are armed against me. antony. i will be justified in all i do to late posterity, and therefore hear me. if i mix a lie with any truth, reproach me freely with it; else, favour me with silence. cleopatra. you command me, and i am dumb. ventidius. i like this well; he shows authority. antony. that i derive my ruin from you alone---- cleopatra. o heavens! i ruin you! antony. you promised me your silence, and you break it ere i have scarce begun. cleopatra. well, i obey you. antony. when i beheld you first, it was in egypt. ere caesar saw your eyes, you gave me love, and were too young to know it; that i settled your father in his throne, was for your sake; i left the acknowledgment for time to ripen. caesar stept in, and, with a greedy hand, plucked the green fruit, ere the first blush of red, yet cleaving to the bough. he was my lord, and was, beside, too great for me to rival; but, i deserved you first, though he enjoyed you. when, after, i beheld you in cilicia, an enemy to rome, i pardoned you. cleopatra. i cleared myself---- antony. again you break your promise. i loved you still, and took your weak excuses, took you into my bosom, stained by caesar, and not half mine: i went to egypt with you, and hid me from the business of the world, shut out inquiring nations from my sight, to give whole years to you. ventidius. yes, to your shame be't spoken. [aside.] antony. how i loved. witness, ye days and nights, and all ye hours, that danced away with down upon your feet, as all your business were to count my passion! one day passed by, and nothing saw but love; another came, and still 'twas only love: the suns were wearied out with looking on, and i untired with loving. i saw you every day, and all the day; and every day was still but as the first, so eager was i still to see you more. ventidius. 'tis all too true. antony. fulvia, my wife, grew jealous, (as she indeed had reason) raised a war in italy, to call me back. ventidius. but yet you went not. antony. while within your arms i lay, the world fell mouldering from my hands each hour, and left me scarce a grasp--i thank your love for't. ventidius. well pushed: that last was home. cleopatra. yet may i speak? antony. if i have urged a falsehood, yes; else, not. your silence says, i have not. fulvia died, (pardon, you gods, with my unkindness died); to set the world at peace, i took octavia, this caesar's sister; in her pride of youth, and flower of beauty, did i wed that lady, whom blushing i must praise, because i left her. you called; my love obeyed the fatal summons: this raised the roman arms; the cause was yours. i would have fought by land, where i was stronger; you hindered it: yet, when i fought at sea, forsook me fighting; and (o stain to honour! o lasting shame!) i knew not that i fled; but fled to follow you. ventidius. what haste she made to hoist her purple sails! and, to appear magnificent in flight, drew half our strength away. antony. all this you caused. and, would you multiply more ruins on me? this honest man, my best, my only friend, has gathered up the shipwreck of my fortunes; twelve legions i have left, my last recruits. and you have watched the news, and bring your eyes to seize them too. if you have aught to answer, now speak, you have free leave. alexas. [aside.] she stands confounded: despair is in her eyes. ventidius. now lay a sigh in the way to stop his passage: prepare a tear, and bid it for his legions; 'tis like they shall be sold. cleopatra. how shall i plead my cause, when you, my judge, already have condemned me? shall i bring the love you bore me for my advocate? that now is turned against me, that destroys me; for love, once past, is, at the best, forgotten; but oftener sours to hate: 'twill please my lord to ruin me, and therefore i'll be guilty. but, could i once have thought it would have pleased you, that you would pry, with narrow searching eyes, into my faults, severe to my destruction, and watching all advantages with care, that serve to make me wretched? speak, my lord, for i end here. though i deserved this usage, was it like you to give it? antony. oh, you wrong me, to think i sought this parting, or desired to accuse you more than what will clear myself, and justify this breach. cleopatra. thus low i thank you; and, since my innocence will not offend, i shall not blush to own it. ventidius. after this, i think she'll blush at nothing. cleopatra. you seem grieved (and therein you are kind) that caesar first enjoyed my love, though you deserved it better: i grieve for that, my lord, much more than you; for, had i first been yours, it would have saved my second choice: i never had been his, and ne'er had been but yours. but caesar first, you say, possessed my love. not so, my lord: he first possessed my person; you, my love: caesar loved me; but i loved antony. if i endured him after, 'twas because i judged it due to the first name of men; and, half constrained, i gave, as to a tyrant, what he would take by force. ventidius. o syren! syren! yet grant that all the love she boasts were true, has she not ruined you? i still urge that, the fatal consequence. cleopatra. the consequence indeed-- for i dare challenge him, my greatest foe, to say it was designed: 'tis true, i loved you, and kept you far from an uneasy wife,-- such fulvia was. yes, but he'll say, you left octavia for me;-- and, can you blame me to receive that love, which quitted such desert, for worthless me? how often have i wished some other caesar, great as the first, and as the second young, would court my love, to be refused for you! ventidius. words, words; but actium, sir; remember actium. cleopatra. even there, i dare his malice. true, i counselled to fight at sea; but i betrayed you not. i fled, but not to the enemy. 'twas fear; would i had been a man, not to have feared! for none would then have envied me your friendship, who envy me your love. antony. we are both unhappy: if nothing else, yet our ill fortune parts us. speak; would you have me perish by my stay? cleopatra. if, as a friend, you ask my judgment, go; if, as a lover, stay. if you must perish-- 'tis a hard word--but stay. ventidius. see now the effects of her so boasted love! she strives to drag you down to ruin with her; but, could she 'scape without you, oh, how soon would she let go her hold, and haste to shore, and never look behind! cleopatra. then judge my love by this. [giving antony a writing.] could i have borne a life or death, a happiness or woe, from yours divided, this had given me means. antony. by hercules, the writing of octavius! i know it well: 'tis that proscribing hand, young as it was, that led the way to mine, and left me but the second place in murder.-- see, see, ventidius! here he offers egypt, and joins all syria to it, as a present; so, in requital, she forsake my fortunes, and join her arms with his. cleopatra. and yet you leave me! you leave me, antony; and yet i love you, indeed i do: i have refused a kingdom; that is a trifle; for i could part with life, with anything, but only you. oh, let me die but with you! is that a hard request? antony. next living with you, 'tis all that heaven can give. alexas. he melts; we conquer. [aside.] cleopatra. no; you shall go: your interest calls you hence; yes; your dear interest pulls too strong, for these weak arms to hold you here. [takes his hand.] go; leave me, soldier (for you're no more a lover): leave me dying: push me, all pale and panting, from your bosom, and, when your march begins, let one run after, breathless almost for joy, and cry--she's dead. the soldiers shout; you then, perhaps, may sigh, and muster all your roman gravity: ventidius chides; and straight your brow clears up, as i had never been. antony. gods, 'tis too much; too much for man to bear. cleopatra. what is't for me then, a weak, forsaken woman, and a lover?-- here let me breathe my last: envy me not this minute in your arms: i'll die apace, as fast as e'er i can, and end your trouble. antony. die! rather let me perish; loosened nature leap from its hinges, sink the props of heaven, and fall the skies, to crush the nether world! my eyes, my soul, my all! [embraces her.] ventidius. and what's this toy, in balance with your fortune, honour, fame? antony. what is't, ventidius?--it outweighs them all; why, we have more than conquered caesar now: my queen's not only innocent, but loves me. this, this is she, who drags me down to ruin! "but, could she 'scape without me, with what haste would she let slip her hold, and make to shore, and never look behind!" down on thy knees, blasphemer as thou art, and ask forgiveness of wronged innocence. ventidius. i'll rather die, than take it. will you go? antony. go! whither? go from all that's excellent? faith, honour, virtue, all good things forbid, that i should go from her, who sets my love above the price of kingdoms! give, you gods, give to your boy, your caesar, this rattle of a globe to play withal, this gewgaw world, and put him cheaply off: i'll not be pleased with less than cleopatra. cleopatra. she's wholly yours. my heart's so full of joy, that i shall do some wild extravagance of love, in public; and the foolish world, which knows not tenderness, will think me mad. ventidius. o women! women! women! all the gods have not such power of doing good to man, as you of doing harm. [exit.] antony. our men are armed:-- unbar the gate that looks to caesar's camp: i would revenge the treachery he meant me; and long security makes conquest easy. i'm eager to return before i go; for, all the pleasures i have known beat thick on my remembrance.--how i long for night! that both the sweets of mutual love may try, and triumph once o'er caesar ere we die. [exeunt.] act iii scene i at one door enter cleopatra, charmion, iras, and alexas, a train of egyptians: at the other antony and romans. the entrance on both sides is prepared by music; the trumpets first sounding on antony's part: then answered by timbrels, etc., on cleopatra's. charmion and iras hold a laurel wreath betwixt them. a dance of egyptians. after the ceremony, cleopatra crowns antony. antony. i thought how those white arms would fold me in, and strain me close, and melt me into love; so pleased with that sweet image, i sprung forwards, and added all my strength to every blow. cleopatra. come to me, come, my soldier, to my arms! you've been too long away from my embraces; but, when i have you fast, and all my own, with broken murmurs, and with amorous sighs, i'll say, you were unkind, and punish you, and mark you red with many an eager kiss. antony. my brighter venus! cleopatra. o my greater mars! antony. thou join'st us well, my love! suppose me come from the phlegraean plains, where gasping giants lay, cleft by my sword, and mountain-tops paired off each other blow, to bury those i slew. receive me, goddess! let caesar spread his subtle nets; like vulcan, in thy embraces i would be beheld by heaven and earth at once; and make their envy what they meant their sport let those, who took us, blush; i would love on, with awful state, regardless of their frowns, as their superior gods. there's no satiety of love in thee: enjoyed, thou still art new; perpetual spring is in thy arms; the ripened fruit but falls, and blossoms rise to fill its empty place; and i grow rich by giving. enter ventidius, and stands apart alexas. oh, now the danger's past, your general comes! he joins not in your joys, nor minds your triumphs; but, with contracted brows, looks frowning on, as envying your success. antony. now, on my soul, he loves me; truly loves me: he never flattered me in any vice, but awes me with his virtue: even this minute, methinks, he has a right of chiding me. lead to the temple: i'll avoid his presence; it checks too strong upon me. [exeunt the rest.] [as antony is going, ventidius pulls him by the robe.] ventidius. emperor! antony. 'tis the old argument; i pr'ythee, spare me. [looking back.] ventidius. but this one hearing, emperor. antony. let go my robe; or, by my father hercules-- ventidius. by hercules' father, that's yet greater, i bring you somewhat you would wish to know. antony. thou see'st we are observed; attend me here, and i'll return. [exit.] ventidius. i am waning in his favour, yet i love him; i love this man, who runs to meet his ruin; and sure the gods, like me, are fond of him: his virtues lie so mingled with his crimes, as would confound their choice to punish one, and not reward the other. enter antony antony. we can conquer, you see, without your aid. we have dislodged their troops; they look on us at distance, and, like curs scaped from the lion's paws, they bay far off, and lick their wounds, and faintly threaten war. five thousand romans, with their faces upward, lie breathless on the plain. ventidius. 'tis well; and he, who lost them, could have spared ten thousand more. yet if, by this advantage, you could gain an easier peace, while caesar doubts the chance of arms-- antony. oh, think not on't, ventidius! the boy pursues my ruin, he'll no peace; his malice is considerable in advantage. oh, he's the coolest murderer! so staunch, he kills, and keeps his temper. ventidius. have you no friend in all his army, who has power to move him? maecenas, or agrippa, might do much. antony. they're both too deep in caesar's interests. we'll work it out by dint of sword, or perish. ventidius. fain i would find some other. antony. thank thy love. some four or five such victories as this will save thy further pains. ventidius. expect no more; caesar is on his guard: i know, sir, you have conquered against odds; but still you draw supplies from one poor town, and of egyptians: he has all the world, and, at his beck, nations come pouring in, to fill the gaps you make. pray, think again. antony. why dost thou drive me from myself, to search for foreign aids?--to hunt my memory, and range all o'er a waste and barren place, to find a friend? the wretched have no friends. yet i had one, the bravest youth of rome, whom caesar loves beyond the love of women: he could resolve his mind, as fire does wax, from that hard rugged image melt him down, and mould him in what softer form he pleased. ventidius. him would i see; that man, of all the world; just such a one we want. antony. he loved me too; i was his soul; he lived not but in me: we were so closed within each other's breasts, the rivets were not found, that joined us first. that does not reach us yet: we were so mixt, as meeting streams, both to ourselves were lost; we were one mass; we could not give or take, but from the same; for he was i, i he. ventidius. he moves as i would wish him. [aside.] antony. after this, i need not tell his name;--'twas dolabella. ventidius. he's now in caesar's camp. antony. no matter where, since he's no longer mine. he took unkindly, that i forbade him cleopatra's sight, because i feared he loved her: he confessed, he had a warmth, which, for my sake, he stifled; for 'twere impossible that two, so one, should not have loved the same. when he departed, he took no leave; and that confirmed my thoughts. ventidius. it argues, that he loved you more than her, else he had stayed; but he perceived you jealous, and would not grieve his friend: i know he loves you. antony. i should have seen him, then, ere now. ventidius. perhaps he has thus long been labouring for your peace. antony. would he were here! ventidius. would you believe he loved you? i read your answer in your eyes, you would. not to conceal it longer, he has sent a messenger from caesar's camp, with letters. antony. let him appear. ventidius. i'll bring him instantly. [exit ventidius, and re-enters immediately with dolabella.] antony. 'tis he himself! himself, by holy friendship! [runs to embrace him.] art thou returned at last, my better half? come, give me all myself! let me not live, if the young bridegroom, longing for his night, was ever half so fond. dolabella. i must be silent, for my soul is busy about a nobler work; she's new come home, like a long-absent man, and wanders o'er each room, a stranger to her own, to look if all be safe. antony. thou hast what's left of me; for i am now so sunk from what i was, thou find'st me at my lowest water-mark. the rivers that ran in, and raised my fortunes, are all dried up, or take another course: what i have left is from my native spring; i've still a heart that swells, in scorn of fate, and lifts me to my banks. dolabella. still you are lord of all the world to me. antony. why, then i yet am so; for thou art all. if i had any joy when thou wert absent, i grudged it to myself; methought i robbed thee of thy part. but, o my dolabella! thou has beheld me other than i am. hast thou not seen my morning chambers filled with sceptred slaves, who waited to salute me? with eastern monarchs, who forgot the sun, to worship my uprising?--menial kings ran coursing up and down my palace-yard, stood silent in my presence, watched my eyes, and, at my least command, all started out, like racers to the goal. dolabella. slaves to your fortune. antony. fortune is caesar's now; and what am i? ventidius. what you have made yourself; i will not flatter. antony. is this friendly done? dolabella. yes; when his end is so, i must join with him; indeed i must, and yet you must not chide; why am i else your friend? antony. take heed, young man, how thou upbraid'st my love: the queen has eyes, and thou too hast a soul. canst thou remember, when, swelled with hatred, thou beheld'st her first, as accessary to thy brother's death? dolabella. spare my remembrance; 'twas a guilty day, and still the blush hangs here. antony. to clear herself, for sending him no aid, she came from egypt. her galley down the silver cydnus rowed, the tackling silk, the streamers waved with gold; the gentle winds were lodged in purple sails: her nymphs, like nereids, round her couch were placed; where she, another sea-born venus, lay. dolabella. no more; i would not hear it. antony. oh, you must! she lay, and leant her cheek upon her hand, and cast a look so languishingly sweet, as if, secure of all beholders' hearts, neglecting, she could take them: boys, like cupids, stood fanning, with their painted wings, the winds. that played about her face. but if she smiled a darting glory seemed to blaze abroad, that men's desiring eyes were never wearied, but hung upon the object: to soft flutes the silver oars kept time; and while they played, the hearing gave new pleasure to the sight; and both to thought. 'twas heaven, or somewhat more; for she so charmed all hearts, that gazing crowds stood panting on the shore, and wanted breath to give their welcome voice. then, dolabella, where was then thy soul? was not thy fury quite disarmed with wonder? didst thou not shrink behind me from those eyes and whisper in my ear--oh, tell her not that i accused her with my brother's death? dolabella. and should my weakness be a plea for yours? mine was an age when love might be excused, when kindly warmth, and when my springing youth made it a debt to nature. yours-- ventidius. speak boldly. yours, he would say, in your declining age, when no more heat was left but what you forced, when all the sap was needful for the trunk, when it went down, then you constrained the course, and robbed from nature, to supply desire; in you (i would not use so harsh a word) 'tis but plain dotage. antony. ha! dolabella. 'twas urged too home.-- but yet the loss was private, that i made; 'twas but myself i lost: i lost no legions; i had no world to lose, no people's love. antony. this from a friend? dolabella. yes, antony, a true one; a friend so tender, that each word i speak stabs my own heart, before it reach your ear. oh, judge me not less kind, because i chide! to caesar i excuse you. antony. o ye gods! have i then lived to be excused to caesar? dolabella. as to your equal. antony. well, he's but my equal: while i wear this he never shall be more. dolabella. i bring conditions from him. antony. are they noble? methinks thou shouldst not bring them else; yet he is full of deep dissembling; knows no honour divided from his interest. fate mistook him; for nature meant him for an usurer: he's fit indeed to buy, not conquer kingdoms. ventidius. then, granting this, what power was theirs, who wrought so hard a temper to honourable terms? antony. i was my dolabella, or some god. dolabella. nor i, nor yet maecenas, nor agrippa: they were your enemies; and i, a friend, too weak alone; yet 'twas a roman's deed. antony. 'twas like a roman done: show me that man, who has preserved my life, my love, my honour; let me but see his face. ventidius. that task is mine, and, heaven, thou know'st how pleasing. [exit ventidius.] dolabella. you'll remember to whom you stand obliged? antony. when i forget it be thou unkind, and that's my greatest curse. my queen shall thank him too, dolabella. i fear she will not. antony. but she shall do it: the queen, my dolabella! hast thou not still some grudgings of thy fever? dolabella. i would not see her lost. antony. when i forsake her, leave me my better stars! for she has truth beyond her beauty. caesar tempted her, at no less price than kingdoms, to betray me; but she resisted all: and yet thou chidest me for loving her too well. could i do so? dolabella. yes; there's my reason. re-enter ventidius, with octavia, leading antony's two little daughters antony. where?--octavia there! [starting back.] ventidius. what, is she poison to you?--a disease? look on her, view her well, and those she brings: are they all strangers to your eyes? has nature no secret call, no whisper they are yours? dolabella. for shame, my lord, if not for love, receive them with kinder eyes. if you confess a man, meet them, embrace them, bid them welcome to you. your arms should open, even without your knowledge, to clasp them in; your feet should turn to wings, to bear you to them; and your eyes dart out and aim a kiss, ere you could reach the lips. antony. i stood amazed, to think how they came hither. ventidius. i sent for them; i brought them in unknown to cleopatra's guards. dolabella. yet, are you cold? octavia. thus long i have attended for my welcome; which, as a stranger, sure i might expect. who am i? antony. caesar's sister. octavia. that's unkind. had i been nothing more than caesar's sister, know, i had still remained in caesar's camp: but your octavia, your much injured wife, though banished from your bed, driven from your house, in spite of caesar's sister, still is yours. 'tis true, i have a heart disdains your coldness, and prompts me not to seek what you should offer; but a wife's virtue still surmounts that pride. i come to claim you as my own; to show my duty first; to ask, nay beg, your kindness: your hand, my lord; 'tis mine, and i will have it. [taking his hand.] ventidius. do, take it; thou deserv'st it. dolabella. on my soul, and so she does: she's neither too submissive, nor yet too haughty; but so just a mean shows, as it ought, a wife and roman too. antony. i fear, octavia, you have begged my life. octavia. begged it, my lord? antony. yes, begged it, my ambassadress; poorly and basely begged it of your brother. octavia. poorly and basely i could never beg: nor could my brother grant. antony. shall i, who, to my kneeling slave, could say, rise up, and be a king; shall i fall down and cry,--forgive me, caesar! shall i set a man, my equal, in the place of jove, as he could give me being? no; that word, forgive, would choke me up, and die upon my tongue. dolabella. you shall not need it. antony. i will not need it. come, you've all betrayed me,-- my friend too!--to receive some vile conditions. my wife has bought me, with her prayers and tears; and now i must become her branded slave. in every peevish mood, she will upbraid the life she gave: if i but look awry, she cries--i'll tell my brother. octavia. my hard fortune subjects me still to your unkind mistakes. but the conditions i have brought are such, your need not blush to take: i love your honour, because 'tis mine; it never shall be said, octavia's husband was her brother's slave. sir, you are free; free, even from her you loathe; for, though my brother bargains for your love, makes me the price and cement of your peace, i have a soul like yours; i cannot take your love as alms, nor beg what i deserve. i'll tell my brother we are reconciled; he shall draw back his troops, and you shall march to rule the east: i may be dropt at athens; no matter where. i never will complain, but only keep the barren name of wife, and rid you of the trouble. ventidius. was ever such a strife of sullen honour! [apart] both scorn to be obliged. dolabella. oh, she has touched him in the tenderest part;[apart] see how he reddens with despite and shame, to be outdone in generosity! ventidius. see how he winks! how he dries up a tear, [apart] that fain would fall! antony. octavia, i have heard you, and must praise the greatness of your soul; but cannot yield to what you have proposed: for i can ne'er be conquered but by love; and you do all for duty. you would free me, and would be dropt at athens; was't not so? octavia. it was, my lord. antony. then i must be obliged to one who loves me not; who, to herself, may call me thankless and ungrateful man:-- i'll not endure it; no. ventidius. i am glad it pinches there. [aside.] octavia. would you triumph o'er poor octavia's virtue? that pride was all i had to bear me up; that you might think you owed me for your life, and owed it to my duty, not my love. i have been injured, and my haughty soul could brook but ill the man who slights my bed. antony. therefore you love me not. octavia. therefore, my lord, i should not love you. antony. therefore you would leave me? octavia. and therefore i should leave you--if i could. dolabella. her soul's too great, after such injuries, to say she loves; and yet she lets you see it. her modesty and silence plead her cause. antony. o dolabella, which way shall i turn? i find a secret yielding in my soul; but cleopatra, who would die with me, must she be left? pity pleads for octavia; but does it not plead more for cleopatra? ventidius. justice and pity both plead for octavia; for cleopatra, neither. one would be ruined with you; but she first had ruined you: the other, you have ruined, and yet she would preserve you. in everything their merits are unequal. antony. o my distracted soul! octavia. sweet heaven compose it!-- come, come, my lord, if i can pardon you, methinks you should accept it. look on these; are they not yours? or stand they thus neglected, as they are mine? go to him, children, go; kneel to him, take him by the hand, speak to him; for you may speak, and he may own you too, without a blush; and so he cannot all his children: go, i say, and pull him to me, and pull him to yourselves, from that bad woman. you, agrippina, hang upon his arms; and you, antonia, clasp about his waist: if he will shake you off, if he will dash you against the pavement, you must bear it, children; for you are mine, and i was born to suffer. [here the children go to him, etc.] ventidius. was ever sight so moving?--emperor! dolabella. friend! octavia. husband! both children. father! antony. i am vanquished: take me, octavia; take me, children; share me all. [embracing them.] i've been a thriftless debtor to your loves, and run out much, in riot, from your stock; but all shall be amended. octavia. o blest hour! dolabella. o happy change! ventidius. my joy stops at my tongue; but it has found two channels here for one, and bubbles out above. antony. [to octavia] this is thy triumph; lead me where thou wilt; even to thy brother's camp. octavia. all there are yours. enter alexas hastily alexas. the queen, my mistress, sir, and yours-- antony. 'tis past.-- octavia, you shall stay this night: to-morrow, caesar and we are one. [exit leading octavia; dolabella and the children follow.] ventidius. there's news for you; run, my officious eunuch, be sure to be the first; haste forward: haste, my dear eunuch, haste. [exit.] alexas. this downright fighting fool, this thick-skulled hero, this blunt, unthinking instrument of death, with plain dull virtue has outgone my wit. pleasure forsook my earliest infancy; the luxury of others robbed my cradle, and ravished thence the promise of a man. cast out from nature, disinherited of what her meanest children claim by kind, yet greatness kept me from contempt: that's gone. had cleopatra followed my advice, then he had been betrayed who now forsakes. she dies for love; but she has known its joys: gods, is this just, that i, who know no joys, must die, because she loves? enter cleopatra, charmion, iras, and train o madam, i have seen what blasts my eyes! octavia's here. cleopatra. peace with that raven's note. i know it too; and now am in the pangs of death. alexas. you are no more a queen; egypt is lost. cleopatra. what tell'st thou me of egypt? my life, my soul is lost! octavia has him!-- o fatal name to cleopatra's love! my kisses, my embraces now are hers; while i--but thou hast seen my rival; speak, does she deserve this blessing? is she fair? bright as a goddess? and is all perfection confined to her? it is. poor i was made of that coarse matter, which, when she was finished, the gods threw by for rubbish. alexas. she is indeed a very miracle. cleopatra. death to my hopes, a miracle! alexas. a miracle; [bowing.] i mean of goodness; for in beauty, madam, you make all wonders cease. cleopatra. i was too rash: take this in part of recompense. but, oh! [giving a ring.] i fear thou flatterest me. charmion. she comes! she's here! iras. fly, madam, caesar's sister! cleopatra. were she the sister of the thunderer jove, and bore her brother's lightning in her eyes, thus would i face my rival. [meets octavia with ventidius. octavia bears up to her. their trains come up on either side.] octavia. i need not ask if you are cleopatra; your haughty carriage-- cleopatra. shows i am a queen: nor need i ask you, who you are. octavia. a roman: a name, that makes and can unmake a queen. cleopatra. your lord, the man who serves me, is a roman. octavia. he was a roman, till he lost that name, to be a slave in egypt; but i come to free him thence. cleopatra. peace, peace, my lover's juno. when he grew weary of that household clog, he chose my easier bonds. octavia. i wonder not your bonds are easy: you have long been practised in that lascivious art: he's not the first for whom you spread your snares: let caesar witness. cleopatra. i loved not caesar; 'twas but gratitude i paid his love: the worst your malice can, is but to say the greatest of mankind has been my slave. the next, but far above him in my esteem, is he whom law calls yours, but whom his love made mine. octavia. i would view nearer. [coming up close to her.] that face, which has so long usurped my right, to find the inevitable charms, that catch mankind so sure, that ruined my dear lord. cleopatra. oh, you do well to search; for had you known but half these charms, you had not lost his heart. octavia. far be their knowledge from a roman lady, far from a modest wife! shame of our sex, dost thou not blush to own those black endearments, that make sin pleasing? cleopatra. you may blush, who want them. if bounteous nature, if indulgent heaven have given me charms to please the bravest man, should i not thank them? should i be ashamed, and not be proud? i am, that he has loved me; and, when i love not him, heaven change this face for one like that. octavia. thou lov'st him not so well. cleopatra. i love him better, and deserve him more. octavia. you do not; cannot: you have been his ruin. who made him cheap at rome, but cleopatra? who made him scorned abroad, but cleopatra? at actium, who betrayed him? cleopatra. who made his children orphans, and poor me a wretched widow? only cleopatra. cleopatra. yet she, who loves him best, is cleopatra. if you have suffered, i have suffered more. you bear the specious title of a wife, to gild your cause, and draw the pitying world to favour it: the world condemns poor me. for i have lost my honour, lost my fame, and stained the glory of my royal house, and all to bear the branded name of mistress. there wants but life, and that too i would lose for him i love. octavia. be't so, then; take thy wish. [exit with her train.] cleopatra. and 'tis my wish, now he is lost for whom alone i lived. my sight grows dim, and every object dances, and swims before me, in the maze of death. my spirits, while they were opposed, kept up; they could not sink beneath a rival's scorn! but now she's gone, they faint. alexas. mine have had leisure to recollect their strength, and furnish counsel, to ruin her, who else must ruin you. cleopatra. vain promiser! lead me, my charmion; nay, your hand too, iras. my grief has weight enough to sink you both. conduct me to some solitary chamber, and draw the curtains round; then leave me to myself, to take alone my fill of grief: there i till death will his unkindness weep; as harmless infants moan themselves asleep. [exeunt.] act iv scene i enter antony and dolabella dolabella. why would you shift it from yourself on me? can you not tell her, you must part? antony. i cannot. i could pull out an eye, and bid it go, and t'other should not weep. o dolabella, how many deaths are in this word, depart! i dare not trust my tongue to tell her so: one look of hers would thaw me into tears, and i should melt, till i were lost again. dolabella. then let ventidius; he's rough by nature. antony. oh, he'll speak too harshly; he'll kill her with the news: thou, only thou. dolabella. nature has cast me in so soft a mould, that but to hear a story, feigned for pleasure, of some sad lover's death, moistens my eyes, and robs me of my manhood. i should speak so faintly, with such fear to grieve her heart, she'd not believe it earnest. antony. therefore,--therefore thou only, thou art fit: think thyself me; and when thou speak'st (but let it first be long), take off the edge from every sharper sound, and let our parting be as gently made, as other loves begin: wilt thou do this? dolabella. what you have said so sinks into my soul, that, if i must speak, i shall speak just so. antony. i leave you then to your sad task: farewell. i sent her word to meet you. [goes to the door, and comes back.] i forgot; let her be told, i'll make her peace with mine, her crown and dignity shall be preserved, if i have power with caesar.--oh, be sure to think on that. dolabella. fear not, i will remember. [antony goes again to the door, and comes back.] antony. and tell her, too, how much i was constrained; i did not this, but with extremest force. desire her not to hate my memory, for i still cherish hers:--insist on that. dolabella. trust me. i'll not forget it. antony. then that's all. [goes out, and returns again.] wilt thou forgive my fondness this once more? tell her, though we shall never meet again, if i should hear she took another love, the news would break my heart.--now i must go; for every time i have returned, i feel my soul more tender; and my next command would be, to bid her stay, and ruin both. [exit.] dolabella. men are but children of a larger growth; our appetites as apt to change as theirs, and full as craving too, and full as vain; and yet the soul, shut up in her dark room, viewing so clear abroad, at home sees nothing: but, like a mole in earth, busy and blind, works all her folly up, and casts it outward to the world's open view: thus i discovered, and blamed the love of ruined antony: yet wish that i were he, to be so ruined. enter ventidius above ventidius. alone, and talking to himself? concerned too? perhaps my guess is right; he loved her once, and may pursue it still. dolabella. o friendship! friendship! ill canst thou answer this; and reason, worse: unfaithful in the attempt; hopeless to win; and if i win, undone: mere madness all. and yet the occasion's fair. what injury to him, to wear the robe which he throws by! ventidius. none, none at all. this happens as i wish, to ruin her yet more with antony. enter cleopatra talking with alexas; charmion, iras on the other side. dolabella. she comes! what charms have sorrow on that face! sorrow seems pleased to dwell with so much sweetness; yet, now and then, a melancholy smile breaks loose, like lightning in a winter's night, and shows a moment's day. ventidius. if she should love him too! her eunuch there? that porc'pisce bodes ill weather. draw, draw nearer, sweet devil, that i may hear. alexas. believe me; try [dolabella goes over to charmion and iras; seems to talk with them.] to make him jealous; jealousy is like a polished glass held to the lips when life's in doubt; if there be breath, 'twill catch the damp, and show it. cleopatra. i grant you, jealousy's a proof of love, but 'tis a weak and unavailing medicine; it puts out the disease, and makes it show, but has no power to cure. alexas. 'tis your last remedy, and strongest too: and then this dolabella, who so fit to practise on? he's handsome, valiant, young, and looks as he were laid for nature's bait, to catch weak women's eyes. he stands already more than half suspected of loving you: the least kind word or glance, you give this youth, will kindle him with love: then, like a burning vessel set adrift, you'll send him down amain before the wind, to fire the heart of jealous antony. cleopatra. can i do this? ah, no, my love's so true, that i can neither hide it where it is, nor show it where it is not. nature meant me a wife; a silly, harmless, household dove, fond without art, and kind without deceit; but fortune, that has made a mistress of me, has thrust me out to the wide world, unfurnished of falsehood to be happy. alexas. force yourself. the event will be, your lover will return, doubly desirous to possess the good which once he feared to lose. cleopatra. i must attempt it; but oh, with what regret! [exit alexas. she comes up to dolabella.] ventidius. so, now the scene draws near; they're in my reach. cleopatra. [to dolabella.] discoursing with my women! might not i share in your entertainment? charmion. you have been the subject of it, madam. cleopatra. how! and how! iras. such praises of your beauty! cleopatra. mere poetry. your roman wits, your gallus and tibullus, have taught you this from cytheris and delia. dolabella. those roman wits have never been in egypt; cytheris and delia else had been unsung: i, who have seen--had i been born a poet, should choose a nobler name. cleopatra. you flatter me. but, 'tis your nation's vice: all of your country are flatterers, and all false. your friend's like you. i'm sure, he sent you not to speak these words. dolabella. no, madam; yet he sent me-- cleopatra. well, he sent you-- dolabella. of a less pleasing errand. cleopatra. how less pleasing? less to yourself, or me? dolabella. madam, to both; for you must mourn, and i must grieve to cause it. cleopatra. you, charmion, and your fellow, stand at distance.-- hold up, my spirits. [aside.]--well, now your mournful matter; for i'm prepared, perhaps can guess it too. dolabella. i wish you would; for 'tis a thankless office, to tell ill news: and i, of all your sex, most fear displeasing you. cleopatra. of all your sex, i soonest could forgive you, if you should. ventidius. most delicate advances! women! women! dear, damned, inconstant sex! cleopatra. in the first place, i am to be forsaken; is't not so? dolabella. i wish i could not answer to that question. cleopatra. then pass it o'er, because it troubles you: i should have been more grieved another time. next i'm to lose my kingdom--farewell, egypt! yet, is there ary more? dolabella. madam, i fear your too deep sense of grief has turned your reason. cleopatra. no, no, i'm not run mad; i can bear fortune: and love may be expelled by other love, as poisons are by poisons. dolabella. you o'erjoy me, madam, to find your griefs so moderately borne. you've heard the worst; all are not false like him. cleopatra. no; heaven forbid they should. dolabella. some men are constant. cleopatra. and constancy deserves reward, that's certain. dolabella. deserves it not; but give it leave to hope. ventidius. i'll swear, thou hast my leave. i have enough: but how to manage this! well, i'll consider. [exit.] dolabella. i came prepared to tell you heavy news; news, which i thought would fright the blood from your pale cheeks to hear: but you have met it with a cheerfulness, that makes my task more easy; and my tongue, which on another's message was employed, would gladly speak its own. cleopatra. hold, dolabella. first tell me, were you chosen by my lord? or sought you this employment? dolabella. he picked me out; and, as his bosom friend, he charged me with his words. cleopatra. the message then i know was tender, and each accent smooth, to mollify that rugged word, depart. dolabella. oh, you mistake: he chose the harshest words; with fiery eyes, and contracted brows, he coined his face in the severest stamp; and fury shook his fabric, like an earthquake; he heaved for vent, and burst like bellowing aetna, in sounds scarce human--"hence away for ever, let her begone, the blot of my renown, and bane of all my hopes!" [all the time of this speech, cleopatra seems more and more concerned, till she sinks quite down.] "let her be driven, as far as men can think, from man's commerce! she'll poison to the centre." cleopatra. oh, i can bear no more! dolabella. help, help!--o wretch! o cursed, cursed wretch! what have i done! charmion. help, chafe her temples, iras. iras. bend, bend her forward quickly. charmion. heaven be praised, she comes again. cleopatra. oh, let him not approach me. why have you brought me back to this loathed being; the abode of falsehood, violated vows, and injured love? for pity, let me go; for, if there be a place of long repose, i'm sure i want it. my disdainful lord can never break that quiet; nor awake the sleeping soul, with hollowing in my tomb such words as fright her hence.--unkind, unkind! dolabella. believe me, 'tis against myself i speak; [kneeling.] that sure desires belief; i injured him: my friend ne'er spoke those words. oh, had you seen how often he came back, and every time with something more obliging and more kind, to add to what he said; what dear farewells; how almost vanquished by his love he parted, and leaned to what unwillingly he left! i, traitor as i was, for love of you (but what can you not do, who made me false?) i forged that lie; for whose forgiveness kneels this self-accused, self-punished criminal. cleopatra. with how much ease believe we what we wish! rise, dolabella; if you have been guilty, i have contributed, and too much love has made me guilty too. the advance of kindness, which i made, was feigned, to call back fleeting love by jealousy; but 'twould not last. oh, rather let me lose, than so ignobly trifle with his heart. dolabella. i find your breast fenced round from human reach, transparent as a rock of solid crystal; seen through, but never pierced. my friend, my friend, what endless treasure hast thou thrown away; and scattered, like an infant, in the ocean, vain sums of wealth, which none can gather thence! cleopatra. could you not beg an hour's admittance to his private ear? like one, who wanders through long barren wilds and yet foreknows no hospitable inn is near to succour hunger, eats his fill, before his painful march; so would i feed a while my famished eyes before we part; for i have far to go, if death be far, and never must return. ventidius with octavia, behind ventidius. from hence you may discover--oh, sweet, sweet! would you indeed? the pretty hand in earnest? dolabella. i will, for this reward. [takes her hand.] draw it not back. 'tis all i e'er will beg. ventidius. they turn upon us. octavia. what quick eyes has guilt! ventidius. seem not to have observed them, and go on. [they enter.] dolabella. saw you the emperor, ventidius? ventidius. no. i sought him; but i heard that he was private, none with him but hipparchus, his freedman. dolabella. know you his business? ventidius. giving him instructions, and letters to his brother caesar. dolabella. well, he must be found. [exeunt dolabella and cleopatra.] octavia. most glorious impudence! ventidius. she looked, methought, as she would say--take your old man, octavia; thank you, i'm better here.-- well, but what use make we of this discovery? octavia. let it die. ventidius. i pity dolabella; but she's dangerous: her eyes have power beyond thessalian charms, to draw the moon from heaven; for eloquence, the sea-green syrens taught her voice their flattery; and, while she speaks, night steals upon the day, unmarked of those that hear. then she's so charming, age buds at sight of her, and swells to youth: the holy priests gaze on her when she smiles; and with heaved hands, forgetting gravity, they bless her wanton eyes: even i, who hate her, with a malignant joy behold such beauty; and, while i curse, desire it. antony must needs have some remains of passion still, which may ferment into a worse relapse, if now not fully cured. i know, this minute, with caesar he's endeavouring her peace. octavia. you have prevailed:--but for a further purpose [walks off.] i'll prove how he will relish this discovery. what, make a strumpet's peace! it swells my heart: it must not, shall not be. ventidius. his guards appear. let me begin, and you shall second me. enter antony antony. octavia, i was looking you, my love: what, are your letters ready? i have given my last instructions. octavia. mine, my lord, are written. antony. ventidius. [drawing him aside.] ventidius. my lord? antony. a word in private.-- when saw you dolabella? ventidius. now, my lord, he parted hence; and cleopatra with him. antony. speak softly.--'twas by my command he went, to bear my last farewell. ventidius. it looked indeed [aloud.] like your farewell. antony. more softly.--my farewell? what secret meaning have you in those words of--my farewell? he did it by my order. ventidius. then he obeyed your order. i suppose [aloud.] you bid him do it with all gentleness, all kindness, and all--love. antony. how she mourned, the poor forsaken creature! ventidius. she took it as she ought; she bore your parting as she did caesar's, as she would another's, were a new love to come. antony. thou dost belie her; [aloud.] most basely, and maliciously belie her. ventidius. i thought not to displease you; i have done. octavia. you seemed disturbed, my lord. [coming up.] antony. a very trifle. retire, my love. ventidius. it was indeed a trifle. he sent-- antony. no more. look how thou disobey'st me; [angrily.] thy life shall answer it. octavia. then 'tis no trifle. ventidius. [to octavia.] 'tis less; a very nothing: you too saw it, as well as i, and therefore 'tis no secret. antony. she saw it! ventidius. yes: she saw young dolabella-- antony. young dolabella! ventidius. young, i think him young, and handsome too; and so do others think him. but what of that? he went by your command, indeed 'tis probable, with some kind message; for she received it graciously; she smiled; and then he grew familiar with her hand, squeezed it, and worried it with ravenous kisses; she blushed, and sighed, and smiled, and blushed again; at last she took occasion to talk softly, and brought her cheek up close, and leaned on his; at which, he whispered kisses back on hers; and then she cried aloud--that constancy should be rewarded. octavia. this i saw and heard. antony. what woman was it, whom you heard and saw so playful with my friend? not cleopatra? ventidius. even she, my lord. antony. my cleopatra? ventidius. your cleopatra; dolabella's cleopatra; every man's cleopatra. antony. thou liest. ventidius. i do not lie, my lord. is this so strange? should mistresses be left, and not provide against a time of change? you know she's not much used to lonely nights. antony. i'll think no more on't. i know 'tis false, and see the plot betwixt you.-- you needed not have gone this way, octavia. what harms it you that cleopatra's just? she's mine no more. i see, and i forgive: urge it no further, love. octavia. are you concerned, that she's found false? antony. i should be, were it so; for, though 'tis past, i would not that the world should tax my former choice, that i loved one of so light note; but i forgive you both. ventidius. what has my age deserved, that you should think i would abuse your ears with perjury? if heaven be true, she's false. antony. though heaven and earth should witness it, i'll not believe her tainted. ventidius. i'll bring you, then, a witness from hell, to prove her so.--nay, go not back; [seeing alexas just entering, and starting back.] for stay you must and shall. alexas. what means my lord? ventidius. to make you do what most you hate,--speak truth. you are of cleopatra's private counsel, of her bed-counsel, her lascivious hours; are conscious of each nightly change she makes, and watch her, as chaldaeans do the moon, can tell what signs she passes through, what day. alexas. my noble lord! ventidius. my most illustrious pander, no fine set speech, no cadence, no turned periods, but a plain homespun truth, is what i ask. i did, myself, o'erhear your queen make love to dolabella. speak; for i will know, by your confession, what more passed betwixt them; how near the business draws to your employment; and when the happy hour. antony. speak truth, alexas; whether it offend or please ventidius, care not: justify thy injured queen from malice: dare his worst. octavia. [aside.] see how he gives him courage! how he fears to find her false! and shuts his eyes to truth, willing to be misled! alexas. as far as love may plead for woman's frailty, urged by desert and greatness of the lover, so far, divine octavia, may my queen stand even excused to you for loving him who is your lord: so far, from brave ventidius, may her past actions hope a fair report. antony. 'tis well, and truly spoken: mark, ventidius. alexas. to you, most noble emperor, her strong passion stands not excused, but wholly justified. her beauty's charms alone, without her crown, from ind and meroe drew the distant vows of sighing kings; and at her feet were laid the sceptres of the earth, exposed on heaps, to choose where she would reign: she thought a roman only could deserve her, and, of all romans, only antony; and, to be less than wife to you, disdained their lawful passion. antony. 'tis but truth. alexas. and yet, though love, and your unmatched desert, have drawn her from the due regard of honour, at last heaven opened her unwilling eyes to see the wrongs she offered fair octavia, whose holy bed she lawlessly usurped. the sad effects of this improsperous war confirmed those pious thoughts. ventidius. [aside.] oh, wheel you there? observe him now; the man begins to mend, and talk substantial reason.--fear not, eunuch; the emperor has given thee leave to speak. alexas. else had i never dared to offend his ears with what the last necessity has urged on my forsaken mistress; yet i must not presume to say, her heart is wholly altered. antony. no, dare not for thy life, i charge thee dare not pronounce that fatal word! octavia. must i bear this? good heaven, afford me patience. [aside.] ventidius. on, sweet eunuch; my dear half-man, proceed. alexas. yet dolabella has loved her long; he, next my god-like lord, deserves her best; and should she meet his passion, rejected, as she is, by him she loved---- antony. hence from my sight! for i can bear no more: let furies drag thee quick to hell; let all the longer damned have rest; each torturing hand do thou employ, till cleopatra comes; then join thou too, and help to torture her! [exit alexas, thrust out by antony.] octavia. 'tis not well. indeed, my lord, 'tis much unkind to me, to show this passion, this extreme concernment, for an abandoned, faithless prostitute. antony. octavia, leave me; i am much disordered: leave me, i say. octavia. my lord! antony. i bid you leave me. ventidius. obey him, madam: best withdraw a while, and see how this will work. octavia. wherein have i offended you, my lord, that i am bid to leave you? am i false, or infamous? am i a cleopatra? were i she, base as she is, you would not bid me leave you; but hang upon my neck, take slight excuses, and fawn upon my falsehood. antony. 'tis too much. too much, octavia; i am pressed with sorrows too heavy to be borne; and you add more: i would retire, and recollect what's left of man within, to aid me. octavia. you would mourn, in private, for your love, who has betrayed you. you did but half return to me: your kindness lingered behind with her, i hear, my lord, you make conditions for her, and would include her treaty. wondrous proofs of love to me! antony. are you my friend, ventidius? or are you turned a dolabella too, and let this fury loose? ventidius. oh, be advised, sweet madam, and retire. octavia. yes, i will go; but never to return. you shall no more be haunted with this fury. my lord, my lord, love will not always last, when urged with long unkindness and disdain: take her again, whom you prefer to me; she stays but to be called. poor cozened man! let a feigned parting give her back your heart, which a feigned love first got; for injured me, though my just sense of wrongs forbid my stay, my duty shall be yours. to the dear pledges of our former love my tenderness and care shall be transferred, and they shall cheer, by turns, my widowed nights: so, take my last farewell; for i despair to have you whole, and scorn to take you half. [exit.] ventidius. i combat heaven, which blasts my best designs; my last attempt must be to win her back; but oh! i fear in vain. [exit.] antony. why was i framed with this plain, honest heart, which knows not to disguise its griefs and weakness, but bears its workings outward to the world? i should have kept the mighty anguish in, and forced a smile at cleopatra's falsehood: octavia had believed it, and had stayed. but i am made a shallow-forded stream, seen to the bottom: all my clearness scorned, and all my faults exposed.--see where he comes, enter dollabella who has profaned the sacred name of friend, and worn it into vileness! with how secure a brow, and specious form, he gilds the secret villain! sure that face was meant for honesty; but heaven mismatched it, and furnished treason out with nature's pomp, to make its work more easy. dolabella. o my friend! antony. well, dolabella, you performed my message? dolabella. i did, unwillingly. antony. unwillingly? was it so hard for you to bear our parting? you should have wished it. dolabella. why? antony. because you love me. and she received my message with as true, with as unfeigned a sorrow as you brought it? dolabella. she loves you, even to madness. antony. oh, i know it. you, dolabella, do not better know how much she loves me. and should i forsake this beauty? this all-perfect creature? dolabella. i could not, were she mine. antony. and yet you first persuaded me: how come you altered since? dolabella. i said at first i was not fit to go: i could not hear her sighs, and see her tears, but pity must prevail: and so, perhaps, it may again with you; for i have promised, that she should take her last farewell: and, see, she comes to claim my word. enter cleopatra antony. false dolabella! dolabella. what's false, my lord? antony. why, dolabella's false, and cleopatra's false; both false and faithless. draw near, you well-joined wickedness, you serpents, whom i have in my kindly bosom warmed, till i am stung to death. dolabella. my lord, have i deserved to be thus used? cleopatra. can heaven prepare a newer torment? can it find a curse beyond our separation? antony. yes, if fate be just, much greater: heaven should be ingenious in punishing such crimes. the rolling stone, and gnawing vulture, were slight pains, invented when jove was young, and no examples known of mighty ills; but you have ripened sin, to such a monstrous growth, 'twill pose the gods to find an equal torture. two, two such!-- oh, there's no further name,--two such! to me, to me, who locked my soul within your breasts, had no desires, no joys, no life, but you; when half the globe was mine, i gave it you in dowry with my heart; i had no use, no fruit of all, but you: a friend and mistress was what the world could give. o cleopatra! o dolabella! how could you betray this tender heart, which with an infant fondness lay lulled betwixt your bosoms, and there slept, secure of injured faith? dolabella. if she has wronged you, heaven, hell, and you revenge it. antony. if she has wronged me! thou wouldst evade thy part of guilt; but swear thou lov'st not her. dolabella. not so as i love you. antony. not so? swear, swear, i say, thou dost not love her. dolabella. no more than friendship will allow. antony. no more? friendship allows thee nothing: thou art perjured-- and yet thou didst not swear thou lov'st her not; but not so much, no more. o trifling hypocrite, who dar'st not own to her, thou dost not love, nor own to me, thou dost! ventidius heard it; octavia saw it. cleopatra. they are enemies. antony. alexas is not so: he, he confessed it; he, who, next hell, best knew it, he avowed it. why do i seek a proof beyond yourself? [to dolabella.] you, whom i sent to bear my last farewell, returned, to plead her stay. dolabella. what shall i answer? if to have loved be guilt, then i have sinned; but if to have repented of that love can wash away my crime, i have repented. yet, if i have offended past forgiveness, let not her suffer: she is innocent. cleopatra. ah, what will not a woman do, who loves? what means will she refuse, to keep that heart, where all her joys are placed? 'twas i encouraged, 'twas i blew up the fire that scorched his soul, to make you jealous, and by that regain you. but all in vain; i could not counterfeit: in spite of all the dams my love broke o'er, and drowned by heart again: fate took the occasion; and thus one minute's feigning has destroyed my whole life's truth. antony. thin cobweb arts of falsehood; seen, and broke through at first. dolabella. forgive your mistress. cleopatra. forgive your friend. antony. you have convinced yourselves. you plead each other's cause: what witness have you, that you but meant to raise my jealousy? cleopatra. ourselves, and heaven. antony. guilt witnesses for guilt. hence, love and friendship! you have no longer place in human breasts, these two have driven you out: avoid my sight! i would not kill the man whom i have loved, and cannot hurt the woman; but avoid me: i do not know how long i can be tame; for, if i stay one minute more, to think how i am wronged, my justice and revenge will cry so loud within me, that my pity will not be heard for either. dolabella. heaven has but our sorrow for our sins; and then delights to pardon erring man: sweet mercy seems its darling attribute, which limits justice; as if there were degrees in infinite, and infinite would rather want perfection than punish to extent. antony. i can forgive a foe; but not a mistress and a friend. treason is there in its most horrid shape, where trust is greatest; and the soul resigned, is stabbed by its own guards: i'll hear no more; hence from my sight for ever! cleopatra. how? for ever! i cannot go one moment from your sight, and must i go for ever? my joys, my only joys, are centred here: what place have i to go to? my own kingdom? that i have lost for you: or to the romans? they hate me for your sake: or must i wander the wide world o'er, a helpless, banished woman, banished for love of you; banished from you? ay, there's the banishment! oh, hear me; hear me, with strictest justice: for i beg no favour; and if i have offended you, then kill me, but do not banish me. antony. i must not hear you. i have a fool within me takes your part; but honour stops my ears. cleopatra. for pity hear me! would you cast off a slave who followed you? who crouched beneath your spurn?--he has no pity! see, if he gives one tear to my departure; one look, one kind farewell: o iron heart! let all the gods look down, and judge betwixt us, if he did ever love! antony. no more: alexas! dolabella. a perjured villain! antony. [to cleopatra.] your alexas; yours. cleopatra. oh, 'twas his plot; his ruinous design, to engage you in my love by jealousy. hear him; confront him with me; let him speak. antony. i have; i have. cleopatra. and if he clear me not-- antony. your creature! one, who hangs upon your smiles! watches your eye, to say or to unsay, whate'er you please! i am not to be moved. cleopatra. then must we part? farewell, my cruel lord! the appearance is against me; and i go, unjustified, for ever from your sight. how i have loved, you know; how yet i love, my only comfort is, i know myself: i love you more, even now you are unkind, then when you loved me most; so well, so truly i'll never strive against it; but die pleased, to think you once were mine. antony. good heaven, they weep at parting! must i weep too? that calls them innocent. i must not weep; and yet i must, to think that i must not forgive.-- live, but live wretched; 'tis but just you should, who made me so: live from each other's sight: let me not hear you meet. set all the earth, and all the seas, betwixt your sundered loves: view nothing common but the sun and skies. now, all take several ways; and each your own sad fate, with mine, deplore; that you were false, and i could trust no more. [exeunt severally.] act v scene i enter cleopatra, charmion, and iras charmion. be juster, heaven; such virtue punished thus, will make us think that chance rules all above, and shuffles, with a random hand, the lots, which man is forced to draw. cleopatra. i could tear out these eyes, that gained his heart, and had not power to keep it. o the curse of doting on, even when i find it dotage! bear witness, gods, you heard him bid me go; you, whom he mocked with imprecating vows of promised faith!--i'll die; i will not bear it. you may hold me-- [she pulls out her dagger, and they hold her.] but i can keep my breath; i can die inward, and choke this love. enter alexas iras. help, o alexas, help! the queen grows desperate; her soul struggles in her with all the agonies of love and rage, and strives to force its passage. cleopatra. let me go. art thou there, traitor!--o, o for a little breath, to vent my rage, give, give me way, and let me loose upon him. alexas. yes, i deserve it, for my ill-timed truth. was it for me to prop the ruins of a falling majesty? to place myself beneath the mighty flaw, thus to be crushed, and pounded into atoms, by its o'erwhelming weight? 'tis too presuming for subjects to preserve that wilful power, which courts its own destruction. cleopatra. i would reason more calmly with you. did not you o'errule, and force my plain, direct, and open love, into these crooked paths of jealousy? now, what's the event? octavia is removed; but cleopatra's banished. thou, thou villain, hast pushed my boat to open sea; to prove, at my sad cost, if thou canst steer it back. it cannot be; i'm lost too far; i'm ruined: hence, thou impostor, traitor, monster, devil!-- i can no more: thou, and my griefs, have sunk me down so low, that i want voice to curse thee. alexas. suppose some shipwrecked seaman near the shore, dropping and faint, with climbing up the cliff, if, from above, some charitable hand pull him to safety, hazarding himself, to draw the other's weight; would he look back, and curse him for his pains? the case is yours; but one step more, and you have gained the height. cleopatra. sunk, never more to rise. alexas. octavia's gone, and dolabella banished. believe me, madam, antony is yours. his heart was never lost, but started off to jealousy, love's last retreat and covert; where it lies hid in shades, watchful in silence, and listening for the sound that calls it back. some other, any man ('tis so advanced), may perfect this unfinished work, which i (unhappy only to myself) have left so easy to his hand. cleopatra. look well thou do't; else-- alexas. else, what your silence threatens.--antony is mounted up the pharos; from whose turret, he stands surveying our egyptian galleys, engaged with caesar's fleet. now death or conquest! if the first happen, fate acquits my promise; if we o'ercome, the conqueror is yours. [a distant shout within.] charmion. have comfort, madam: did you mark that shout? [second shout nearer.] iras. hark! they redouble it. alexas. 'tis from the port. the loudness shows it near: good news, kind heavens! cleopatra. osiris make it so! enter serapion serapion. where, where's the queen? alexas. how frightfully the holy coward stares as if not yet recovered of the assault, when all his gods, and, what's more dear to him, his offerings, were at stake. serapion. o horror, horror! egypt has been; our latest hour has come: the queen of nations, from her ancient seat, is sunk for ever in the dark abyss: time has unrolled her glories to the last, and now closed up the volume. cleopatra. be more plain: say, whence thou comest; though fate is in thy face, which from the haggard eyes looks wildly out, and threatens ere thou speakest. serapion. i came from pharos; from viewing (spare me, and imagine it) our land's last hope, your navy-- cleopatra. vanquished? serapion. no: they fought not. cleopatra. then they fled. serapion. nor that. i saw, with antony, your well-appointed fleet row out; and thrice he waved his hand on high, and thrice with cheerful cries they shouted back: 'twas then false fortune, like a fawning strumpet, about to leave the bankrupt prodigal, with a dissembled smile would kiss at parting, and flatter to the last; the well-timed oars, now dipt from every bank, now smoothly run to meet the foe; and soon indeed they met, but not as foes. in few, we saw their caps on either side thrown up; the egyptian galleys, received like friends, passed through, and fell behind the roman rear: and now, they all come forward, and ride within the port. cleopatra. enough, serapion: i've heard my doom.--this needed not, you gods: when i lost antony, your work was done; 'tis but superfluous malice.--where's my lord? how bears he this last blow? serapion. his fury cannot be expressed by words: thrice he attempted headlong to have fallen full on his foes, and aimed at caesar's galley: withheld, he raves on you; cries,--he's betrayed. should he now find you-- alexas. shun him; seek your safety, till you can clear your innocence. cleopatra. i'll stay. alexas. you must not; haste you to your monument, while i make speed to caesar. cleopatra. caesar! no, i have no business with him. alexas. i can work him to spare your life, and let this madman perish. cleopatra. base fawning wretch! wouldst thou betray him too? hence from my sight! i will not hear a traitor; 'twas thy design brought all this ruin on us.-- serapion, thou art honest; counsel me: but haste, each moment's precious. serapion. retire; you must not yet see antony. he who began this mischief, 'tis just he tempt the danger; let him clear you: and, since he offered you his servile tongue, to gain a poor precarious life from caesar, let him expose that fawning eloquence, and speak to antony. alexas. o heavens! i dare not; i meet my certain death. cleopatra. slave, thou deservest it.-- not that i fear my lord, will i avoid him; i know him noble: when he banished me, and thought me false, he scorned to take my life; but i'll be justified, and then die with him. alexas. o pity me, and let me follow you. cleopatra. to death, if thou stir hence. speak, if thou canst, now for thy life, which basely thou wouldst save; while mine i prize at--this! come, good serapion. [exeunt cleopatra, serapion, charmion, and iras.] alexas. o that i less could fear to lose this being, which, like a snowball in my coward hand, the more 'tis grasped, the faster melts away. poor reason! what a wretched aid art thou! for still, in spite of thee, these two long lovers, soul and body, dread their final separation. let me think: what can i say, to save myself from death? no matter what becomes of cleopatra. antony. which way? where? [within.] ventidius. this leads to the monument. [within.] alexas. ah me! i hear him; yet i'm unprepared: my gift of lying's gone; and this court-devil, which i so oft have raised, forsakes me at my need. i dare not stay; yet cannot far go hence. [exit.] enter antony and ventidius antony. o happy caesar! thou hast men to lead: think not 'tis thou hast conquered antony; but rome has conquered egypt. i'm betrayed. ventidius. curse on this treacherous train! their soil and heaven infect them all with baseness: and their young souls come tainted to the world with the first breath they draw. antony. the original villain sure no god created; he was a bastard of the sun, by nile, aped into man; with all his mother's mud crusted about his soul. ventidius. the nation is one universal traitor; and their queen the very spirit and extract of them all. antony. is there yet left a possibility of aid from valour? is there one god unsworn to my destruction? the least unmortgaged hope? for, if there be, methinks i cannot fall beneath the fate of such a boy as caesar. the world's one half is yet in antony; and from each limb of it, that's hewed away, the soul comes back to me. ventidius. there yet remain three legions in the town. the last assault lopt off the rest; if death be your design,-- as i must wish it now,--these are sufficient to make a heap about us of dead foes, an honest pile for burial. antony. they are enough. we'll not divide our stars; but, side by side, fight emulous, and with malicious eyes survey each other's acts: so every death thou giv'st, i'll take on me, as a just debt, and pay thee back a soul. ventidius. now you shall see i love you. not a word of chiding more. by my few hours of life, i am so pleased with this brave roman fate, that i would not be caesar, to outlive you. when we put off this flesh, and mount together, i shall be shown to all the ethereal crowd,-- lo, this is he who died with antony! antony. who knows, but we may pierce through all their troops, and reach my veterans yet? 'tis worth the 'tempting, to o'erleap this gulf of fate, and leave our wandering destinies behind. enter alexas, trembling ventidius. see, see, that villain! see cleopatra stamped upon that face, with all her cunning, all her arts of falsehood! how she looks out through those dissembling eyes! how he sets his countenance for deceit, and promises a lie, before he speaks! let me despatch him first. [drawing.] alexas. o spare me, spare me! antony. hold; he's not worth your killing.--on thy life, which thou may'st keep, because i scorn to take it, no syllable to justify thy queen; save thy base tongue its office. alexas. sir, she is gone. where she shall never be molested more by love, or you. antony. fled to her dolabella! die, traitor! i revoke my promise! die! [going to kill him.] alexas. o hold! she is not fled. antony. she is: my eyes are open to her falsehood; my whole life has been a golden dream of love and friendship; but, now i wake, i'm like a merchant, roused from soft repose, to see his vessel sinking, and all his wealth cast over. ungrateful woman! who followed me, but as the swallow summer, hatching her young ones in my kindly beams, singing her flatteries to my morning wake: but, now my winter comes, she spreads her wings, and seeks the spring of caesar. alexas. think not so; her fortunes have, in all things, mixed with yours. had she betrayed her naval force to rome, how easily might she have gone to caesar, secure by such a bribe! ventidius. she sent it first, to be more welcome after. antony. 'tis too plain; else would she have appeared, to clear herself. alexas. too fatally she has: she could not bear to be accused by you; but shut herself within her monument; looked down and sighed; while, from her unchanged face, the silent tears dropt, as they had not leave, but stole their parting. some indistinguished words she only murmured; at last, she raised her eyes; and, with such looks as dying lucrece cast-- antony. my heart forebodes-- ventidius. all for the best:--go on. alexas. she snatched her poniard, and, ere we could prevent the fatal blow, plunged it within her breast; then turned to me: go, bear my lord, said she, my last farewell; and ask him, if he yet suspect my faith. more she was saying, but death rushed betwixt. she half pronounced your name with her last breath, and buried half within her. ventidius. heaven be praised! antony. then art thou innocent, my poor dear love, and art thou dead? o those two words! their sound should be divided: hadst thou been false, and died; or hadst thou lived, and hadst been true--but innocence and death! this shows not well above. then what am i, the murderer of this truth, this innocence! thoughts cannot form themselves in words so horrid as can express my guilt! ventidius. is't come to this? the gods have been too gracious; and thus you thank them for it! antony. [to alexas.] why stayest thou here? is it for thee to spy upon my soul, and see its inward mourning? get thee hence; thou art not worthy to behold, what now becomes a roman emperor to perform. alexas. he loves her still: his grief betrays it. good! the joy to find she's yet alive, completes the reconcilement. i've saved myself, and her. but, oh! the romans! fate comes too fast upon my wit, hunts me too hard, and meets me at each double. [aside.] [exit.] ventidius. would she had died a little sooner, though! before octavia went, you might have treated: now 'twill look tame, and would not be received. come, rouse yourself, and let's die warm together. antony. i will not fight: there's no more work for war. the business of my angry hours is done. ventidius. caesar is at your gates. antony. why, let him enter; he's welcome now. ventidius. what lethargy has crept into your soul? antony. 'tis but a scorn of life, and just desire to free myself from bondage. ventidius. do it bravely. antony. i will; but not by fighting. o ventidius! what should i fight for now?--my queen is dead. i was but great for her; my power, my empire, were but my merchandise to buy her love; and conquered kings, my factors. now she's dead, let caesar take the world,-- an empty circle, since the jewel's gone which made it worth my strife: my being's nauseous; for all the bribes of life are gone away. ventidius. would you be taken? antony. yes, i would be taken; but, as a roman ought,--dead, my ventidius: for i'll convey my soul from caesar's reach, and lay down life myself. 'tis time the world should have a lord, and know whom to obey. we two have kept its homage in suspense, and bent the globe, on whose each side we trod, till it was dented inwards. let him walk alone upon't: i'm weary of my part. my torch is out; and the world stands before me, like a black desert at the approach of night: i'll lay me down, and stray no farther on. ventidius. i could be grieved, but that i'll not outlive you: choose your death; for, i have seen him in such various shapes, i care not which i take: i'm only troubled, the life i bear is worn to such a rag, 'tis scarce worth giving. i could wish, indeed, we threw it from us with a better grace; that, like two lions taken in the toils, we might at last thrust out our paws, and wound the hunters that inclose us. antony. i have thought on it. ventidius, you must live. ventidius. i must not, sir. antony. wilt thou not live, to speak some good of me? to stand by my fair fame, and guard the approaches from the ill tongues of men? ventidius. who shall guard mine, for living after you? antony. say, i command it. ventidius. if we die well, our deaths will speak themselves and need no living witness. antony. thou hast loved me, and fain i would reward thee. i must die; kill me, and take the merit of my death, to make thee friends with caesar. ventidius. thank your kindness. you said i loved you; and in recompense, you bid me turn a traitor: did i think you would have used me thus?--that i should die with a hard thought of you? antony. forgive me, roman. since i have heard of cleopatra's death, my reason bears no rule upon my tongue, but lets my thoughts break all at random out. i've thought better; do not deny me twice. ventidius. by heaven i will not. let it not be to outlive you. antony. kill me first, and then die thou; for 'tis but just thou serve thy friend, before thyself. ventidius. give me your hand. we soon shall meet again. now, farewell, emperor!-- [embrace.] methinks that word's too cold to be my last: since death sweeps all distinctions, farewell, friend! that's all-- i will not make a business of a trifle; and yet i cannot look on you, and kill you; pray turn your face. antony. i do: strike home, be sure. ventidius. home as my sword will reach. [kills himself.] antony. oh, thou mistak'st; that wound was not of thine; give it me back: thou robb'st me of my death. ventidius. i do indeed; but think 'tis the first time i e'er deceived you, if that may plead my pardon.--and you, gods, forgive me, if you will; for i die perjured, rather than kill my friend. [dies.] antony. farewell! ever my leader, even in death! my queen and thou have got the start of me, and i'm the lag of honour.--gone so soon? is death no more? he used him carelessly, with a familiar kindness: ere he knocked, ran to the door, and took him in his arms, as who should say--you're welcome at all hours, a friend need give no warning. books had spoiled him; for all the learned are cowards by profession. 'tis not worth my further thought; for death, for aught i know, is but to think no more. here's to be satisfied. [falls on his sword.] i've missed my heart. o unperforming hand! thou never couldst have erred in a worse time. my fortune jades me to the last; and death, like a great man, takes state, and makes me wait for my admittance.-- [trampling within.] some, perhaps, from caesar: if he should find me living, and suspect that i played booty with my life! i'll mend my work, ere they can reach me. [rises upon his knees.] enter cleopatra, charmion, and iras cleopatra. where is my lord? where is he? charmion. there he lies, and dead ventidius by him. cleopatra. my tears were prophets; i am come too late. o that accursed alexas! [runs to him.] antony. art thou living? or am i dead before i knew, and thou the first kind ghost that meets me? cleopatra. help me seat him. send quickly, send for help! [they place him in a chair.] antony. i am answered. we live both. sit thee down, my cleopatra: i'll make the most i can of life, to stay a moment more with thee. cleopatra. how is it with you? antony. 'tis as with a man removing in a hurry; all packed up, but one dear jewel that his haste forgot; and he, for that, returns upon the spur: so i come back for thee. cleopatra. too long, ye heavens, you have been cruel to me: now show your mended faith, and give me back his fleeting life! antony. it will not be, my love; i keep my soul by force. say but, thou art not false. cleopatra. 'tis now too late to say i'm true: i'll prove it, and die with you. unknown to me, alexas feigned my death: which, when i knew, i hasted to prevent this fatal consequence. my fleet betrayed both you and me. antony. and dolabella-- cleopatra. scarce esteemed before he loved; but hated now. antony. enough: my life's not long enough for more. thou say'st, thou wilt come after: i believe thee; for i can now believe whate'er thou sayest, that we may part more kindly. cleopatra. i will come: doubt not, my life, i'll come, and quickly too: caesar shall triumph o'er no part of thee. antony. but grieve not, while thou stayest, my last disastrous times: think we have had a clear and glorious day and heaven did kindly to delay the storm, just till our close of evening. ten years' love, and not a moment lost, but all improved to the utmost joys,--what ages have we lived? and now to die each other's; and, so dying, while hand in hand we walk in groves below, whole troops of lovers' ghosts shall flock about us, and all the train be ours. cleopatra. your words are like the notes of dying swans, too sweet to last. were there so many hours for your unkindness, and not one for love? antony. no, not a minute.--this one kiss--more worth than all i leave to caesar. [dies.] cleopatra. o tell me so again, and take ten thousand kisses for that word. my lord, my lord! speak, if you yet have being; sign to me, if you cannot speak; or cast one look! do anything that shows you live. iras. he's gone too far to hear you; and this you see, a lump of senseless clay, the leavings of a soul. charmion. remember, madam, he charged you not to grieve. cleopatra. and i'll obey him. i have not loved a roman, not to know what should become his wife; his wife, my charmion! for 'tis to that high title i aspire; and now i'll not die less. let dull octavia survive, to mourn him dead: my nobler fate shall knit our spousals with a tie, too strong for roman laws to break. iras. will you then die? cleopatra. why shouldst thou make that question? iras. caesar is merciful. cleopatra. let him be so to those that want his mercy: my poor lord made no such covenant with him, to spare me when he was dead. yield me to caesar's pride? what! to be led in triumph through the streets, a spectacle to base plebeian eyes; while some dejected friend of antony's, close in a corner, shakes his head, and mutters a secret curse on her who ruined him! i'll none of that. charmion. whatever you resolve, i'll follow, even to death. iras. i only feared for you; but more should fear to live without you. cleopatra. why, now, 'tis as it should be. quick, my friends, despatch; ere this, the town's in caesar's hands: my lord looks down concerned, and fears my stay, lest i should be surprised; keep him not waiting for his love too long. you, charmion, bring my crown and richest jewels; with them, the wreath of victory i made (vain augury!) for him, who now lies dead: you, iras, bring the cure of all our ills. iras. the aspics, madam? cleopatra. must i bid you twice? [exit charmion and iras.] 'tis sweet to die, when they would force life on me, to rush into the dark abode of death, and seize him first; if he be like my love, he is not frightful, sure. we're now alone, in secrecy and silence; and is not this like lovers? i may kiss these pale, cold lips; octavia does not see me: and, oh! 'tis better far to have him thus, than see him in her arms.--oh, welcome, welcome! enter charmion and iras charmion. what must be done? cleopatra. short ceremony, friends; but yet it must be decent. first, this laurel shall crown my hero's head: he fell not basely, nor left his shield behind him.--only thou couldst triumph o'er thyself; and thou alone wert worthy so to triumph. charmion. to what end these ensigns of your pomp and royalty? cleopatra. dull, that thou art! why 'tis to meet my love; as when i saw him first, on cydnus' bank, all sparkling, like a goddess: so adorned, i'll find him once again; my second spousals shall match my first in glory. haste, haste, both, and dress the bride of antony. charmion. 'tis done. cleopatra. now seat me by my lord. i claim this place, for i must conquer caesar too, like him, and win my share of the world.--hail, you dear relics of my immortal love! o let no impious hand remove you hence: but rest for ever here! let egypt give his death that peace, which it denied his life.-- reach me the casket. iras. underneath the fruit the aspic lies. cleopatra. welcome, thou kind deceiver! [putting aside the leaves.] thou best of thieves: who, with an easy key, dost open life, and, unperceived by us, even steal us from ourselves; discharging so death's dreadful office, better than himself; touching our limbs so gently into slumber, that death stands by, deceived by his own image, and thinks himself but sleep. serapion. the queen, where is she? [within.] the town is yielded, caesar's at the gates. cleopatra. he comes too late to invade the rights of death! haste, bare my arm, and rouse the serpent's fury. [holds out her arm, and draws it back.] coward flesh, wouldst thou conspire with caesar to betray me, as thou wert none of mine? i'll force thee to it, and not be sent by him, but bring, myself, my soul to antony. [turns aside, and then shows her arm bloody.] take hence; the work is done. serapion. break ope the door, [within.] and guard the traitor well. charmion. the next is ours. iras. now, charmion, to be worthy of our great queen and mistress. [they apply the aspics.] cleopatra. already, death, i feel thee in my veins: i go with such a will to find my lord, that we shall quickly meet. a heavy numbness creeps through every limb, and now 'tis at my head: my eyelids fall, and my dear love is vanquished in a mist. where shall i find him, where? o turn me to him, and lay me on his breast!--caesar, thy worst; now part us, if thou canst. [dies.] [iras sinks down at her feet, and dies; charmion stands behind her chair, as dressing her head.] enter serapion, two priests, alexas bound, egyptians priest. behold, serapion, what havoc death has made! serapion. 'twas what i feared.-- charmion, is this well done? charmion. yes, 'tis well done, and like a queen, the last of her great race: i follow her. [sinks down: dies.] alexas. 'tis true, she has done well: much better thus to die, than live to make a holiday in rome. serapion. see how the lovers sit in state together, as they were giving laws to half mankind! the impression of a smile, left in her face, shows she died pleased with him for whom she lived, and went to charm him in another world. caesar's just entering: grief has now no leisure. secure that villain, as our pledge of safety, to grace the imperial triumph.--sleep, blest pair, secure from human chance, long ages out, while all the storms of fate fly o'er your tomb; and fame to late posterity shall tell, no lovers lived so great, or died so well. [exeunt.] epilogue poets, like disputants, when reasons fail, have one sure refuge left--and that's to rail. fop, coxcomb, fool, are thundered through the pit; and this is all their equipage of wit. we wonder how the devil this difference grows betwixt our fools in verse, and yours in prose: for, 'faith, the quarrel rightly understood, 'tis civil war with their own flesh and blood. the threadbare author hates the gaudy coat; and swears at the gilt coach, but swears afoot: for 'tis observed of every scribbling man, he grows a fop as fast as e'er he can; prunes up, and asks his oracle, the glass, if pink or purple best become his face. for our poor wretch, he neither rails nor prays; nor likes your wit just as you like his plays; he has not yet so much of mr. bayes. he does his best; and if he cannot please, would quietly sue out his writ of ease. yet, if he might his own grand jury call, by the fair sex he begs to stand or fall. let caesar's power the men's ambition move, but grace you him who lost the world for love! yet if some antiquated lady say, the last age is not copied in his play; heaven help the man who for that face must drudge, which only has the wrinkles of a judge. let not the young and beauteous join with those; for should you raise such numerous hosts of foes, young wits and sparks he to his aid must call; 'tis more than one man's work to please you all. none this ebook was produced by david widger <widger@cecomet.net> [note: there is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. d.w.] cleopatra by georg ebers volume . chapter vi. the men sent by archibius to obtain news had brought back no definite information; but a short time before, a royal runner had handed him a tablet from iras, requesting him to visit her the next day. disquieting, but fortunately as yet unverified tidings had arrived. the regent was doing everything in his power to ascertain the truth; but he (archibius) was aware of the distrust of the government, and everything connected with it, felt by the sailors and all the seafaring folk at the harbour. an independent person like himself could often learn more than the chief of the harbour police, with all his ships and men. the little tablet was accompanied by a second, which, in the regent's name, authorized the bearer to have the harbour chains raised anywhere, to go out into the open sea and return without interference. the messenger, the overseer of archibius's galley slaves, was an experienced man. he undertook to have the "epicurus"--a swift vessel, which cleopatra had given to her friend--ready for a voyage to the open sea within two hours. the carriage should be sent for his master, that no time might be lost. when archibius had returned to the ladies and asked whether it would be an abuse of their hospitality, if--it was now nearly midnight--he should still delay his departure for a time, they expressed sincere pleasure, and begged him to continue his narrative. "i must hasten," he hurriedly began, after eating the lunch which berenike had ordered while he was talking with the messenger, "but the events of the next few years are hardly worth mentioning. besides, my time was wholly occupied by my studies in the museum. "as for cleopatra and arsinoe, they stood like queens at the head of all the magnificence of the court. the day on which they left our house was the last of their childhood. "who would venture to determine whether her father's restoration, or the meeting with antony, had wrought the great change which took place at that time in cleopatra? "just before she left us, my mother had lamented that she must give her to a father like the flute-player, instead of to a worthy mother; for the best could not help regarding herself happy in the possession of such a daughter. afterwards her character and conduct were better suited to delight men than to please a mother. the yearning for peace of mind seemed over. only the noisy festivals, the singing and music, of which there was never any cessation in the palace of the royal virtuoso, seemed to weary her and at such times she appeared at our house and spent several days beneath its roof. arsinoe never accompanied her; her heart was sometimes won by a golden-haired officer in the ranks of the german horsemen whom gabinius had left among the garrison of alexandria, sometimes by a macedonian noble among the youths who, at that time, performed the service of guarding the palace. "cleopatra lived apart from her, and arsinoe openly showed her hostility from the time that she entreated her to put an end to the scandal caused by her love affairs. "cleopatra held aloof from such things. "though she had devoted much time to the magic arts of the egyptians, her clear intellect had rendered her so familiar with the philosophy of the hellenes that it was a pleasure to hear her converse or argue in the museum-as she often did-with the leaders of the various schools. her self-confidence had become very strong. though, while with us, she said that she longed to return to the days of the peaceful garden of epicurus, she devoted herself eagerly enough to the events occurring in the world and to statecraft. she was familiar with everything in rome, the desires and struggles of the contending parties, as well as the characters of the men who were directing affairs, their qualities, views, and aims. "she followed antony's career with the interest of love, for she had bestowed on him the first affection of her young heart. she had expected the greatest achievements, but his subsequent course seemed to belie these lofty hopes. a tinge of scorn coloured her remarks concerning him at that time, but here also her heart had its share. "pompey, to whom her father owed his restoration to the throne, she considered a lucky man, rather than a great and wise one. of julius caesar, on the contrary, long before she met him, she spoke with ardent enthusiasm, though she knew that he would gladly have made egypt a roman province. the greatest deed which she expected from the energetic julius was that he would abolish the republic, which she hated, and soar upward to tyrannize over the arrogant rulers of the world--only she would fain have seen antony in his place. how often in those days she used magic art to assure herself of his future! her father was interested in these things, especially as, through them, and the power of the mighty isis, he expected to obtain relief from his many and severe sufferings. "cleopatra's brothers were still mere boys, completely dependent upon their guardian, pothinus, to whom the king left the care of the government, and their tutor, theodotus, a clever but unprincipled rhetorician. these two men and achillas, the commander of the troops, would gladly have aided dionysus, the king's oldest male heir, to obtain the control of the state, in order afterwards to rule him, but the flute- player baffled their plans. you know that in his last will he made cleopatra, his favourite child, his successor, but her brother dionysus was to share the throne as her husband. this caused much scandal in rome, though it was an old custom of the house of ptolemy, and suited the egyptians. "the flute-player died. cleopatra became queen, and at the same time the wife of a husband ten years old, for whom she did not even possess the natural gift of sisterly tenderness. but with the obstinate child who had been told by his counsellors that the right to rule should be his alone, she also married the former governors of the country. "then began a period of sore suffering. her life was a perpetual battle against notorious intrigues, the worst of which owed their origin to her sister. arsinoe had surrounded herself with a court of her own, managed by the eunuch ganymedes, an experienced commander, and at the same time a shrewd adviser, wholly devoted to her interest. he understood how to bring her into close relations with pothinus and other rulers of the state, and thus at last united all who possessed any power in the royal palace in an endeavour to thrust cleopatra from the throne. pothinus, theodotus, and achillas hated her because she saw their failings and made them feel the superiority of her intellect. their combined efforts might have succeeded in overthrowing her before, had not the alexandrians, headed by the ephebi, over whom i still had some influence, stood by her so steadfastly. whoever could still be classed as a youth glowed with enthusiasm for her, and most of the macedonian nobles in the body-guard would have gone to death for her sake, though she had forced them to gaze hopelessly up to her as if she were some unapproachable goddess. "when her father died she was seventeen, but she knew how to resist oppressors and foes as if she were a man. my sister, charmian, whom she had appointed to a place in her service, loyally aided her. at that time she was a beautiful and lovable girl, but the spell exerted by the queen fettered her like chains and bonds. she voluntarily resigned the love of a noble man--he afterwards became your husband, berenike--in order not to leave her royal friend at a time when she so urgently needed her. since then my sister has shut her heart against love. it belonged to cleopatra. she lives, thinks, cares for her alone. she is fond of you, barine, because your father was so dear to her. iras, whose name is so often associated with hers, is the daughter of my oldest sister, who was already married when the king entrusted the princesses to our father's care. she is thirteen years younger than cleopatra, but her mistress holds the first place in her heart also. her father, the wealthy krates, made every effort to keep her from entering the service of the queen, but in vain. a single conversation with this marvellous woman had bound her forever. "but i must be brief. you have doubtless heard how completely cleopatra bewitched pompey's son during his visit to alexandria. she had not been so gracious to any man since her meeting with antony, and it was not from affection, but to maintain the independence of her beloved native land. at that time the father of gnejus was the man who possessed the most power, and statecraft commanded her to win him through his son. the young roman also took his leave 'full of her,' as the egyptians say. this pleased her, but the visit greatly aided her foes. there was no slander which was not disseminated against her. the commanders of the body-guard, whom she had always treated as a haughty queen, had seen her associate with pompey's son in the theatre as if he were a friend of equal rank; and on many other occasions the alexandrians saw her repay his courtesies in the same coin. but in those days hatred of rome surged high. the regents, leagued with arsinoe, spread the rumour that cleopatra would deliver egypt up to pompey, if the senate would secure to her the sole sovereignty of the new province, and leave her free to rid herself of her royal brother and husband. "she was compelled to fly, and went first to the syrian frontier, to gain friends for her cause among the asiatic princes. my brother straton--you remember the noble youth who won the prize for wrestling at olympia, berenike--and i were commissioned to carry the treasure to her. we doubtless exposed ourselves to great peril, but we did so gladly, and left alexandria with a few camels, an ox-cart, and some trusted slaves. we were to go to gaza, where cleopatra was already beginning to collect an army, and had disguised ourselves as nabataean merchants. the languages which i had learned, in order not to be distanced by cleopatra, were now of great service. "those were stirring times. the names of caesar and pompey were in every mouth. after the defeat at dyrrachium the cause of julius seemed lost, but the pharsalian battle again placed him uppermost, unless the east rose in behalf of pompey. both seemed to be favourites of fortune. the question now was to which the goddess would prove most faithful. "my sister charmian was with the queen, but through one of arsinoe's maids, who was devoted to her, we had learned from the palace that pompey's fate was decided. he had come a fugitive from the defeat of pharsalus, and begged the king of egypt--that is, the men who were acting in his name--for a hospitable reception. pothinus and his associates had rarely confronted a greater embarrassment. the troops and ships of the victorious caesar were close at hand; many of gabinius' men were serving in the egyptian army. to receive the vanquished pompey kindly was to make the victorious caesar a foe. i was to witness the terrible solution of this dilemma. the infamous words of theodotus, 'dead dogs no longer bite,' had turned the scale. "my brother and i reached mount casius with our precious freight, and pitched our tents to await a messenger, when a large body of armed men approached from the city. at first we feared that we were pursued; but a spy reported that the king himself was among the soldiery, and at the same time a large roman galley drew near the coast. it must be pompey's. so they had changed their views, and the king was coming in person to receive their guest. the troops encamped on the flat shore on which stood the temple of the casian amon. "the september sun shone brightly, and was reflected from the weapons. from the high bank of the dry bed of the river, where we had pitched our tent, we saw something scarlet move to and fro. it was the king's mantle. the waves, stirred by the autumn breeze, rippled lightly, blue as cornflowers, over the yellow sand of the dunes; but the king stood still, shading his eyes with his hand as he gazed at the galley. meanwhile, achillas, the commander of the troops, and septimius, the tribune, who belonged to the roman garrison in alexandria, and who, i knew, had served under pompey and owed him many favours, had entered a boat and put off to the vessel, which could not come nearer the land on account of the shallow water. "the conference now began, and achillas's offer of hospitality must have been very warm and well calculated to inspire confidence, for a tall lady--it was cornelia, the wife of the imperator--waved her hand to him in token of gratitude." here the speaker paused, drew a long breath, and, pressing his hand to his brow, continued "what follows--alas, that it was my fate to witness the dreadful scene! how often a garbled account has been given, and yet the whole was so terribly simple! "fortune makes her favourites confiding. pompey was also. though more than fifty years old--he lacked two years of sixty--he sprang into the boat quickly enough, with merely a little assistance from a freedman. a sailor--he was a negro--shoved the skiff off from the side of the huge ship as violently as if the pole he used for the purpose was a spear, and the galley his foe. the boat, urged by his companions' oars, had already moved forward, and he stumbled, the brown cap falling from his woolly head in the act. "it seems as if i could still see him. ere i clearly realized that this was an evil omen, the boat stopped. "the water was shallow. i saw achillas point to the shore. it could be reached by a single bound. pompey looked towards the king. the freedman put his hand under his arm to help him rise. septimius also stood up. i thought he intended to assist him. but no! what did this mean? something flashed by the imperator's silver-grey hair as if a spark had fallen from the sky. would pompey defend himself, or why did he raise his hand? it was to draw around him the toga, with which he silently covered his face. the tribune's arm was again raised high into the air, and then--what confusion! here, there, yonder, hands suddenly appeared aloft, bright flashes darted through the clear air. achillas, the general, dealt blows with his dagger as if he were skilled in murder. the imperator's stalwart figure sank forward. the freedman supported him. "then shouts arose, here a cry of fury, yonder a wail of grief, and, rising above all, a woman's shriek of anguish. it came from the lips of cornelia, the murdered man's wife. shouts of applause from the king's camp followed, then the blast of a trumpet; the egyptians drew back from the shore. the scarlet cloak again appeared. septimius, bearing in his hand a bleeding head, went towards it and held the ghastly trophy aloft. "the royal boy gazed into the dull eyes of the victim, who had guided the destinies of many a battlefield, of rome, of two quarters of the globe. the sight was probably too terrible for the child upon the throne, for he averted his head. the ship moved away from the land, the egyptians formed into ranks and marched off. achillas cleansed his blood-stained hands in the sea-water. the freedman beside him washed his master's headless trunk. the general shrugged his shoulders as the faithful fellow heaped reproaches on him." here archibius paused, drawing a long breath. then he continued more calmly: "achillas did not lead the troops back to alexandria, but eastward, towards pelusium, as i learned later. "my brother and i stood on the rocky edge of the ravine. it was long ere either spoke. a cloud of dust concealed the king and his body-guard, the sails of the galley disappeared. twilight closed in, and straton pointed westward towards alexandria. then the sun set. red! red! it seemed as if a torrent of blood was pouring over the city. "night followed. a scanty fire was glimmering on the strand. where had the wood been gathered in this desert? how had it been kindled? a wrecked, mouldering boat had lain close beside the scene of the murder. the freedman and his companions had broken it up and fed the flames with withered boughs, the torn garments of the murdered man, and dry sea-weed. a blaze soon rose, and a body was carefully placed upon the wretched funeral pyre. it was the corpse of the great pompey. one of the imperator's veterans aided the faithful servant." here archibius sank back again among the cushions, adding in explanation: "cordus, the man's name was servius cordus. he fared well later. the queen provided for him. the others? fate overtook them all soon enough. theodotus was condemned by brutus to a torturing death. amid his loud shrieks of agony one of pompey's veterans shouted, 'dead dogs no longer bite, but they howl when dying!' "it was worthy of caesar that he averted his face in horror from the head of his enemy, which theodotus sent to him. pothinus, too, vainly awaited the reward of his infamous deed. "julius caesar had cast anchor before alexandria shortly after the king's return. not until after his arrival in egypt did he learn how pompey had been received there. you know that he remained nine months. how often i have heard it said that cleopatra understood how to chain him here! this is both true and false. he was obliged to stay half a year; the following three months he did indeed give to the woman whom he loved. ay, the heart of the man of fifty-four had again opened to a great passion. like all wounds, those inflicted by the arrows of eros heal more slowly when youth lies behind the stricken one. it was not only the eyes and the senses which attracted a couple so widely separated by years, but far more the mental characteristics of both. two winged intellects had met. the genius of one had recognized that of the other. the highest type of manhood had met perfect womanhood. they could not fail to attract each other. i expected it; for cleopatra had long watched breathlessly the flight of this eagle who soared so far above the others, and she was strong enough to keep at his side. "we succeeded in joining cleopatra, and heard that, spite of the hostility of our citizens, caesar had occupied the palace of the ptolemies and was engaged in restoring order. "we knew in what way pothinus, achillas, and arsinoe would seek to influence him. cleopatra had good reason to fear that her foes might deliver egypt unconditionally to rome, if caesar should leave the reins of government in their hands and shut her out. she had cause to dread this, but she also had the courage to act in person in her own behalf. "the point now was to bring her into the city, the palace-nay, into direct communication with the dictator. children tell the tale of the strong man who bore cleopatra in a sack through the palace portals. it was not a sack which concealed her, but a syrian carpet. the strong man was my brother straton. i went first, to secure a free passage. "julius caesar and she saw and found each other. fate merely drew the conclusion which must result from such premises. never have i seen cleopatra happier, more exalted in mind and heart, yet she was menaced on all sides by serious perils. it required all the military genius of caesar to conquer the fierce hostility which he encountered here. it was this, not the thrall of cleopatra, i repeat, which first bound him to egypt. what would have prevented him--as he did later--from taking the object of his love to rome, had it been possible at that time? but this was not the case. the alexandrians provided for that. "he had recognized the flute-player's will, nay, had granted more to the royal house than could have been given to the former. cleopatra and her brother-husband, dionysus, were to share the government, and he also bestowed on arsinoe and her youngest brother the island of cyprus, which had been wrested from their uncle ptolemy by the republic. rome was, of course, to remain the guardian of the brothers and sisters. "this arrangement was unendurable to pothinus and the former rulers of the state. cleopatra as queen, and rome--that is caesar, the dictator, her friend, as guardian--meant their removal from power, their destruction, and they resisted violently. "the egyptians and even the alexandrians supported them. the young king hated nothing more than the yoke of the unloved sister, who was so greatly his superior. caesar had come with a force by no means equal to theirs, and it might be possible to draw the mighty general into a snare. they fought with all the power at their command, with such passionate eagerness, that the dictator had never been nearer succumbing to peril. but cleopatra certainly did not paralyze his strength and cautious deliberation. no! he had never been greater; never proved the power of his genius so magnificently. and against what superior power, what hatred he contended! i myself saw the young king, when he heard that cleopatra had succeeded in entering the palace and meeting caesar, rush into the street, fairly crazed by rage, tear the diadem from his head, hurl it on the pavement, and shriek to the passers-by that he was betrayed, until caesar's soldiers forced him back into the palace, and dispersed the mob. "arsinoe had received more than she could venture to expect; but she was again most deeply angered. after caesar's entry into the palace, she had received him as queen, and hoped everything from his favour. then her hated sister had come and, as so often happened, she was forgotten for cleopatra's sake. "this was too much, and with the eunuch ganymedes, her confidant, and--as i have already said--an able warrior, she left the palace and joined the dictator's foes. "there were severe battles on land and sea; in the streets of the city, for the drinkable water excavated by the foe; and against the conflagration which destroyed part of the bruchium and the library of the museum. yet, half dead with thirst, barely escaped from drowning, threatened on all sides by fierce hatred, he stood firm, and remained victor also in the open field, after the young king had placed himself at the head of the egyptians and collected an army. "you know that the boy was drowned in the flight. "in battle and mortal peril, amid blood and the clank of arms, caesar and cleopatra spent half a year ere they were permitted to pluck the fruit of their common labour. the dictator now made her queen of egypt, and gave her, as co-regent, her youngest brother, a boy not half her own age. to arsinoe he granted the life she had forfeited, but sent her to italy. "peace followed the victory. now, it is true, grave duties must have summoned the statesman back to rome, but he tarried three full months longer. "whoever knows the life of the ambitious julius, and is aware what this delay might have cost him, may well strike his brow with his hand, and ask, 'is it true and possible that he used this precious time to take a trip with the woman he loved up the nile, to the island of isis, which is so dear to the queen, to the extreme southern frontier of the country?' yet it was so, and i myself went in the second ship, and not only saw them together, but more than once shared their banquets and their conversation. it was giving and taking, forcing down and elevating, a succession of discords, not unpleasant to hear, because experience taught that they would finally terminate in the most beautiful harmony. it was a festal day for all the senses." "i imagine the whole nile journey," interrupted barine, "to be like the fairy voyage, when the purple silk sails of cleopatra's galley bore antony along the cydnus." "no, no," replied archibius, "she first learned from antony the art of filling this earthly existence with fleeting pleasures. caesar demanded more. her intellect offered him the highest enjoyment." here he hesitated. "true, the skill with which, to please antony, she daily offered him for years fresh charms for every sense, was not a matter of accident." "and this," cried barine, "this was undertaken by the woman who had recognized the chief good in peace of mind!" "ay," replied archibius thoughtfully, "yet this was the inevitable result. pleasure had been the young girl's object in life. ere passion awoke in her soul, peace of mind was the chief good she knew. when the hour arrived that this proved unattainable, the firmly rooted yearning for happiness still remained the purpose of her existence. my father would have been wiser to take her to the stoa and impress it upon her that, if life must have a goal, it should be only to live in accordance with the sensibly arranged course of the world, and in harmony with one's own nature. he should have taught her to derive happiness from virtue. he should have stamped goodness upon the soul of the future queen as the fundamental law of her being. he omitted to do this, because in his secluded life he had succeeded in finding the happiness which the master promises to his disciples. from athens to cyrene, from epicurus to aristippus, is but a short step, and cleopatra took it when she forgot that the master was far from recognizing the chief good in the enjoyment of individual pleasure. the happiness of epicurus was not inferior to that of zeus, if he had only barley bread and water to appease his hunger and thirst. "yet she still considered herself a follower of epicurus, and later, when antony had gone to the parthian war, and she was a long time alone, she once more began to strive for freedom from pain and peace of mind, but the state, her children, the marriage of antony--who had long been her lover--to octavia, the yearning of her own heart, anubis, magic, and the egyptian teachings of the life after death, above all, the burning ambition, the unresting desire to be loved, where she herself loved, to be first among the foremost--" here he was interrupted by the messenger, who informed him that the ship was ready. chapter vii. archibius had buried himself so deeply in the past that it was several minutes ere he could bring himself back to the present. when he did so, he hastily discussed with the two ladies the date of their departure. it was hard for berenike to leave her injured brother, and barine longed to see dion once more before the journey. both were reluctant to quit alexandria ere decisive news had arrived from the army and the fleet. so they requested a few days' delay; but archibius cut them short, requiring them, with a resolution which transformed the amiable friend into a stern master, to be ready for the journey the next day at sunset. his nile boat would await them at the agathodaemon harbour on lake mareotis, and his travelling chariot would convey them thither, with as much luggage and as many female slaves as they desired to take with them. then softening his tone, he briefly reminded the ladies of the great annoyances to which a longer stay would expose them, excused his rigour on the plea of haste, pressed the hands of the mother and daughter, and retired without heeding barine, who called after him, yet could desire nothing save to plead for a longer delay. the carriage bore him swiftly to the great harbour. the waxing moon was mirrored like a silver column, now wavering and tremulous, now rent by the waves tossing under a strong southeast wind, and illumined the warm autumn night. the sea outside was evidently running high. this was apparent by the motion of the vessels lying at anchor in the angle which the shore in front of the superb temple of poseidon formed with the choma. this was a tongue of land stretched like a finger into the sea, on whose point stood a little palace which cleopatra, incited by a chance remark of antony, had had built there to surprise him. another, of white marble, glimmered in the moonlight from the island of antirrhodus; and farther still a blazing fire illumined the darkness. its flames flared from the top of the famous lighthouse on the island of pharos at the entrance of the harbour, and, swayed to and fro by the wind, steeped the horizon and the outer edge of the dark water in the harbour with moving masses of light which irradiated the gloomy distance, sometimes faintly, anon more brilliantly. spite of the late hour, the harbour was full of bustle, though the wind often blew the men's cloaks over their heads, and the women were obliged to gather their garments closely around them. true, at this hour commerce had ceased; but many had gone to the port in search of news, or even to greet before others the first ship returning from the victorious fleet; for that antony had defeated octavianus in a great battle was deemed certain. guards were watching the harbour, and a band of syrian horsemen had just passed from the barracks in the southern part of the lochias to the temple of poseidon. here the galleys lay at anchor, not in the harbour of eunostus, which was separated from the other by the broad, bridge-like dam of the heptastadium, that united the city and the island of pharos. near it were the royal palaces and the arsenal, and any tidings must first reach this spot. the other harbour was devoted to commerce, but, in order to prevent the spread of false reports, newly arrived ships were forbidden to enter. true, even at the great harbour, news could scarcely be expected, for a chain stretching from the end of the pharos to a cliff directly opposite in the alveus steganus, closed the narrow opening. but it could be raised if a state galley arrived with an important message, and this was expected by the throng on the shore. doubtless many came from banquets, cookshops, taverns, or the nocturnal meeting-places of the sects that practised the magic arts, yet the weight of anxious expectation seemed to check the joyous activity, and wherever archibius glanced he beheld eager, troubled faces. the wind forced many to bow their heads, and, wherever they turned their eyes, flags and clouds of dust were fluttering in the air, increasing the confusion. as the galley put off from the shore, and the flutes summoned the oarsmen to their toil, its owner felt so disheartened that he did not even venture to hope that he was going in quest of good tidings. long-vanished days had, as it were, been called from the grave, and many a scene from the past rose before him as he lay among the cushions on the poop, gazing at the sky, across which dark, swiftly sailing clouds sometimes veiled the stars and again revealed them. "how much we can conceal by words without being guilty of falsehood!" he murmured, while recalling what he had told the women. ay, he had been cleopatra's confidant in his early youth, but how he had loved her, how, even as a boy, he had been subject to her, body and soul! he had allowed her to see it, displayed, confessed it; and she had accepted it as her rightful due. she had repelled with angry pride his only attempt to clasp her, in his overflowing affection, in his arms; but to show his love for her is a crime for which the loftiest woman pardons the humblest suitor, and a few hours later cleopatra had met him with the old affectionate familiarity. again he recalled the torments which he had endured when compelled to witness how completely she yielded to the passion which drew her to antony. at that time the roman had merely swept through her life like a swiftly passing meteor, but many things betrayed that she did not forget him; and while archibius had seen without pain her love for the great caesar bud and grow, the torturing feeling of jealousy again stirred in his heart, though youth was past, when at tarsus, on the river cydnus, she renewed the bond which still united her to antony. now his hair had grown grey, and though nothing had clouded his friendship for the queen, though he had always been ready to serve her, this foolish feeling had not been banished, and again and again mastered his whole being. he by no means undervalued antony's attractions; but he saw his foibles no less clearly. all in all, whenever he thought of this pair, he felt like the lover of art who entrusts the finest gem in his collection to a rich man who knows not how to prize its real value, and puts it in the wrong place. yet he wished the roman the most brilliant victory; for his defeat would have been cleopatra's also, and would she endure the consequences of such a disaster? the galley was approaching the flickering circle of light at the foot of the pharos, and archibius was just producing the token which was to secure the lifting of the chain, when his name echoed through the stillness of the night. it was dion hailing him from a boat tossing near the mouth of the harbour on the waves surging in from the turbulent sea. he had recognized archibius's swift galley from the bust of epicurus which was illumined by the light of the lantern in the prow. cleopatra had had it placed upon the ship which, by her orders, had been built for her friend. dion now desired to join him, and was soon standing on the deck at his side. he had landed on the island of pharos, and entered a sailors' tavern to learn what was passing. but no one could give him any definite information, for the wind was blowing from the land and allowed large vessels to approach the egyptian coast only by the aid of oars. shortly before the breeze had veered from south to southeast, and an experienced rhodian would "never again lift cup of wine to his lips" if it did not blow from the north to-morrow or the day after. then ships bearing news might reach alexandria by the dozen--that is, the greybeard added with a defiant glance at the daintily clad city gentleman--if they were allowed to pass the pharos or go through the poseidon basin into the eunostus. he had fancied that he saw sails on the horizon at sunset, but the swiftest galley became a hedgehog when the wind blew against its prow, and even checked the oars. others, too, had fancied that they had seen sails, and dion would gladly have gone out to sea to investigate, but he was entirely alone in a frail hired boat, and this would not have been permitted to pass beyond the harbour. the expectation that every road would be open to archibius had not deceived him, and the harbour chain was drawn aside for the epicurus. with swelling sails, urged by the strong wind blowing from the southeast, its keel cut the rolling waves. soon a faint, tremulous light appeared in the north. it must be a ship; and though the helmsman in the tavern at pharos, who looked as though he had not always steered peaceful trading-vessels, had spoken of some which did not let the ships they caught pass unscathed, the men on the well- equipped, stately epicurus did not fear pirates, especially as morning was close at hand, and it had just shot by two clumsy men-of-war which had been sent out by the regent. the strong wind filled every sail, rowing would have been useless labour, and the light in front seemed to be coming nearer. a wan glimmer was already beginning to brighten the distant east when the epicurus approached the vessel with the light, but it seemed to wish to avoid the alexandrian, and turned suddenly towards the northeast. archibius and dion now discussed whether it would be worth while to pursue the fugitive. it was a small ship, which, as the dark masses of clouds became bordered with golden edges, grew more distinct and appeared to be a cilician pirate of the smallest size. as to its crew, the tried sailors on the epicurus, a much larger vessel, which lacked no means of defence, showed no signs of alarm, the helmsman especially, who had served in the fleet of sextus pompey, and had sprung upon the deck of many a pirate ship. archibius deemed it foolish to commence a conflict unnecessarily. but dion was in the mood to brave every peril. if life and death were at stake, so much the better! he had informed his friend of iras's fears. the fleet must be in a critical situation, and if the little cilician had had nothing to conceal she would not have shunned the epicurus. it was worth while to learn what had induced her to turn back just before reaching the harbour. the warlike helmsman also desired to give chase, and archibius yielded, for the uncertainty was becoming more and more unbearable. dion's soul was deeply burdened too. he could not banish barine's image; and since archibius had told him that he had found her resolved to shut her house against guests, and how willingly she had accepted his invitation to the country, again and again he pondered over the question what should prevent his marrying the quiet daughter of a distinguished artist, whom he loved? archibius had remarked that barine would be glad to greet her most intimate friends--among whom he was included--in her quiet country. dion did not doubt this, but he was equally sure that the greeting would bind him to her and rub him of his liberty, perhaps forever. but would the alexandrian possess the lofty gift of freedom, if the romans ruled his city as they governed carthage or corinth? if cleopatra were defeated, and egypt became a roman province, a share in the business of the council, which was still addressed as "macedonian men," and which was dear to dion, could offer nothing but humiliation, and no longer afford satisfaction. if a pirate's spear put an end to bondage under the roman yoke and to this unworthy yearning and wavering, so much the better! on this autumn morning, under this grey sky, from which sank a damp, light fog, with these hopes and fears in his heart, he beheld in both the present and future naught save shadows. the epicurus overtook and captured the fugitive. the slight resistance the vessel might have offered was relinquished when archibius's helmsman shouted that the epicurus did not belong to the royal navy, and had come in search of news. the cilician took in his oars; archibius and dion entered the vessel and questioned the commander. he was an old, weather-beaten seaman, who would give no information until after he had learned what his pursuers really desired. at first he protested that he had witnessed on the peloponnesian coast a great victory gained by the egyptian galleys over those commanded by octavianus; but the queries of the two friends involved him in contradictions, and he then pretended to know nothing, and to have spoken of a victory merely to please the alexandrian gentlemen. dion, accompanied by a few men from the crew of the epicurus, searched the ship, and found in the little cabin a man bound and gagged, guarded by one of the pirates. it was a sailor from the pontus, who spoke only his native language. nothing intelligible could be obtained from him; but there were important suggestions in a letter, found in a chest in the cabin, among clothing, jewels, and other stolen articles. the letter-dion could scarcely believe his own eyes-was addressed to his friend, the architect gorgias. the pirate, being ignorant of writing, had not opened it, but dion tore the wax from the cord without delay. aristocrates, the greek rhetorician, who had accompanied antony to the war, had written from taenarum, in the south of the peloponnesus, requesting the architect, in the general's name, to set the little palace at the end of the choma in order, and surround it on the land side with a high wall. no door would be necessary. communication with the dwelling could be had by water. he must do his utmost to complete the work speedily. the friends gazed at each other in astonishment, as they read this commission. what could induce antony to give so strange an order? how did it fall into the hands of the pirates? this must be understood. when archibius, whose gentle nature, so well adapted to inspire confidence, quickly won friends, burst into passionate excitement, the unexpected transition rarely failed to produce its effect, especially as his tall, strong figure and marked features made a still more threatening impression. even the captain gazed at him with fear, when the alexandrian threatened to recall all his promises of consideration and mercy if the pirate withheld even the smallest trifle connected with this letter. the man speedily perceived that it would be useless to make false statements; for the captive from pontus, though unable to speak greek, understood the language, and either confirmed every remark of the other with vehement gestures, or branded it in the same manner as false. thus it was discovered that the pirate craft, in company with a much larger vessel, owned by a companion, had lurked behind the promontory of crete for a prize. they had neither seen nor heard aught concerning the two fleets, when a dainty galley, "the finest and fleetest that ever sailed in the sea"--it was probably the "swallow," antony's despatch- boat-had run into the snare. to capture her was an easy task. the pirates had divided their booty, but the lion's share of goods and men had fallen to the larger ship. a pouch containing letters and money had been taken from a gentleman of aristocratic appearance--probably antony's messenger--who had received a severe wound, died, and had been flung into the sea. the former had been used to light the fire, and only the one addressed to the architect remained. the captured sailors had said that the fleet of octavianus had defeated cleopatra's, and the queen had fled, but that the land forces were still untouched, and might yet decide the conflict in antony's favour. the pirate protested that he did not know the position of the army--it might be at taenarum, whence the captured ship came. it was a sin and a shame, but his own crew had set it on fire, and it sank before his eyes. this report seemed to be true, yet the acharnanian coast, where the battle was said to have been fought, was so far from the southern point of the peloponnesus, whence antony's letter came, that it must have been written during the flight. one thing appeared to be certain--the fleet had been vanquished and dispersed on the d or d of september. where would the queen go now? what had become of the magnificent galleys which had accompanied her to the battle? even the contrary winds would not have detained them so long, for they were abundantly supplied with rowers. had octavianus taken possession of them? were they burned or sunk? but in that case how had antony reached taenarum? the pirate could give no answer to these questions, which stirred both heart and brain. why should he conceal what had reached his ears? at last archibius ordered the property stolen from antony's ship, and the liberated sailor to be brought on board the epicurus, but the pirate was obliged to swear not to remain in the waters between crete and alexandria. then he was suffered to pursue his way unmolested. this adventure had occupied many hours, and the return against the wind was slow; for, during the chase the epicurus had been carried by the strong breeze far out to sea. yet, when still several miles from the mouth of the harbour at the pharos, it was evident that the rhodian helmsman in the island tavern had predicted truly; for the weather changed with unusual speed, and the wind now blew from the north. the sea fairly swarmed with ships, some belonging to the royal fleet, some to curious alexandrians, who had sailed out to take a survey. archibius and dion had spent a sleepless night and day. the heavy air, pervaded by a fine mist, had grown cool. after refreshing themselves by a repast, they paced up and down the deck of the epicurus. few words were exchanged, and they wrapped their cloaks closer around them. both had quaffed large draughts of the fiery wine with which the epicurus was well supplied, but it would not warm them. even the fire, blazing brightly in the richly furnished cabin, could scarcely do so. archibius's thoughts lingered with his beloved queen, and his vivid power of imagination conjured before his mind everything which could distress her. no possible chance, not even the most terrible, was forgotten, and when he saw her sinking in the ship, stretching her beautiful arms imploringly towards him, to whom she had so long turned in every perilous position, when he beheld her a captive in the presence of the hostile, cold-hearted octavianus, the blood seemed to freeze in his veins. at last he dropped his felt mantle and, groaning aloud, struck his brow with his clenched hand. he had fancied her walking with gold chains on her slender wrists before the victor's four-horse chariot, and heard the exulting shouts of the roman populace. that would have been the most terrible of all. to pursue this train of thought was beyond the endurance of the faithful friend, and dion turned in surprise as he heard him sob and saw the tears which bedewed his face. his own heart was heavy enough, but he knew his companion's warm devotion to the queen; so, passing his arm around his shoulder, he entreated him to maintain that peace of soul and mind which he had so often admired. in the most critical situations he had seen him stand high above them, as yonder man who fed the flames on the summit of the pharos stood above the wild surges of the sea. if he would reflect over what had happened as dispassionately as usual, he could not fail to see that antony must be free and in a position to guide his own future, since he directed the palace in the choma to be put in order. he did not understand about the wall, but perhaps he was bringing home some distinguished captive whom he wished to debar from all communication with the city. it might prove that everything was far better than they feared, and they would yet smile at these grievous anxieties. his heart, too, was heavy, for he wished the queen the best fortune, not only for her own sake, but because with her and her successful resistance to the greed of rome was connected the liberty of alexandria. "my love and anxiety, like yours," he concluded, "have ever been given to her, the sovereign of this country. the world will be desolate, life will no longer be worth living, if the iron foot of rome crushes our independence and freedom." the words had sounded cordial and sincere, and archibius followed dion's counsel. calm thought convinced him that nothing had yet happened which compelled belief in the worst result; and, as one who needs consolation often finds relief in comforting another, archibius cheered his own heart by representing to his younger friend that, even if octavianus were the victor and should deprive egypt of her independence, he would scarcely venture to take from the citizens of alexandria the free control of their own affairs. then he explained to dion that, as a young, resolute, independent man, he might render himself doubly useful if it were necessary to guard the endangered liberty of the city, and told him how many beautiful things life still held in store. his voice expressed anxious tenderness for his young friend. no one had spoken thus to dion since his father's death. the epicurus would soon reach the mouth of the harbour, and after landing he must again leave archibius. the decisive hour which often unites earnest men more firmly than many previous years had come to both. they had opened their hearts to each other. dion had withheld only the one thing which, at the first sight of the houses in the city, filled his soul with fresh uneasiness. it was long since he had sought counsel from others. many who had asked his, had left him with thanks, to do exactly the opposite of what he had advised, though it would have been to their advantage. more than once he, too, had done the same, but now a powerful impulse urged him to confide in archibius. he knew barine, and wished her the greatest happiness. perhaps it would be wise to let another person, who was kindly disposed, consider what his own heart so eagerly demanded and prudence forbade. hastily forming his resolution, he again turned to his friend, saying: "you have shown yourself a father to me. imagine that i am indeed your son, and, as such wished to confess that a woman had become dear to my heart, and to ask whether you would be glad to greet her as a daughter." here archibius interrupted him with the exclamation: "a ray of light amid all this gloom? grasp what you have too long neglected as soon as possible! it befits a good citizen to marry. the greek does not attain full manhood till he becomes husband and father. if i have remained unwedded, there was a special reason for it, and how often i have envied the cobbler whom i saw standing before his shop in the evening, holding his child in his arms, or the pilot, to whom large and small hands were stretched in greeting when he returned home! when i enter my dwelling only my dogs rejoice. but you, whose beautiful palace stands empty, to whose proud family it is due that you should provide for its continuance--" "that is just what brings me into a state of indecision, which is usually foreign to my nature," interrupted dion. "you know me and my position in the world, and you have also known from her earliest childhood the woman to whom i allude." "iras?" asked his companion, hesitatingly. his sister, charmian, had told him of the love felt by the queen's younger waiting-woman. but dion eagerly denied this, adding i am speaking of barine, the daughter of your dead friend leonax. i love her, yet my pride is sensitive, and i know that it will extend to my future wife. the contemptuous glances which others might cast at her i should scorn, for i know her worth. surely you remember my mother: she was a very different woman. her house, her child, the slaves, her loom, were everything to her. she rigidly exacted from other women the chaste reserve which was a marked trait in her own character. yet she was gentle, and loved me, her only son, beyond aught else. i think she would have opened her arms to barine, had she believed that she was necessary to my happiness. but would the young beauty, accustomed to gay intercourse with distinguished men, have been able to submit to her demands? when i consider that she cannot help taking into her married life the habit of being surrounded and courted; when i think that the imprudence of a woman accustomed to perfect freedom might set idle tongues in motion, and cast a shadow upon the radiant purity of my name; when i even--" and he raised his clenched right hand. but archibius answered soothingly: "that anxiety is groundless if barine warmly and joyfully gives you her whole heart. it is a sunny, lovable, true woman's heart, and therefore capable of a great love. if she bestows it on you--and i believe she will--go and offer sacrifices in your gratitude; for the immortals desired your happiness when they guided your choice to her and not to iras, my own sister's child. if you were really my son, i would now exclaim, 'you could not bring me a dearer daughter, if--i repeat it-- if you are sure of her love.'" dion gazed into vacancy a short time, and then cried firmly: "i am!" chapter viii. the epicurus anchored before the temple of poseidon. the crew had been ordered to keep silence, though they knew nothing, except that a letter from antony, commanding the erection of a wall, had been found on board the pirate. this might be regarded as a good omen, for people do not think of building unless they anticipate a time of peace. the light rain had ceased, but the wind blew more strongly from the north, and the air had grown cool. a dense throng still covered the quay from the southern end of the heptastadium to the promontory of lochias. the strongest pressure was between the peninsula of the choma and the sebasteum; for this afforded a view of the sea, and the first tidings must reach the residence of the regent, which was connected with the palace. a hundred contradictory rumours had been in circulation that morning; and when, at the third hour in the afternoon, the epicurus arrived, it was surrounded by a dense multitude eager to hear what news the ship had brought from without. other vessels shared the same fate, but none could give reliable tidings. two swift galleys from the royal fleet reported meeting a samian trireme, which had given news of a great victory gained by antony on the land and cleopatra on the sea, and, as men are most ready to believe what they desire, throngs of exulting men and women moved to and fro along the shore, strengthening by their confidence many a timorous spirit. prudent people, who had regarded the long delay of the first ships of the fleet with anxiety, had opened their ears to the tales of evil, and looked forward to the future with uneasiness. but they avoided giving expression to their fears, for the overseer of an establishment for gold embroidery, who had ventured to warn the people against premature rejoicing, had limped home badly beaten, and two other pessimists who had been flung in the sea had just been dragged out dripping wet. nor could the multitude be blamed for this confidence; for at the serapeum, the theatre of dionysus, the lofty pylons of the sebasteum, the main door of the museum, in front of the entrance of the palace in the bruchium, and before the fortress-like palaces in the lochias, triumphal arches had been erected, adorned with gods of victory and trophies hastily constructed of plaster, inscriptions of congratulations and thanks to the deities, garlands of foliage and flowers. the wreathing of the egyptian pylons and obelisks, the principal temple, and the favourite statues in the city had been commenced during the night. the last touches were now being given to the work. gorgias, like his friend dion, had not closed his eyes since the night before; for he had had charge of all the decorations of the bruchium, where one superb building adjoined another. sleep had also fled from the couches of the occupants of the sebasteum, the royal palace where iras lived during the absence of the queen, and the practorium, facing its southern front, which contained the official residence of the regent. when archibius was conducted to the queen's waiting-woman, her appearance fairly startled him. she had been his guest in kanopus only the day before yesterday, and how great was the alteration within this brief time! her oval face seemed to have lengthened, the features to have grown sharper; and this woman of seven-and-twenty years, who had hitherto retained all the charms of youth, appeared suddenly to have aged a decade. there was a feverish excitement in her manner, as, holding out her hand to her uncle, in greeting, she exclaimed hastily, "you, too, bring no good tidings?" "nor any evil ones," he answered quietly. "but, child, i do not like your appearance--the dark circles under your keen eyes. you have had news which rouses your anxiety?" "worse than that," she answered in a low tone. "well?" "read!" gasped iras, her lips and nostrils quivering as she handed archibius a small tablet. with a gesture of haste very unusual in him, he snatched it from her hand and, as his eyes ran over the words traced upon it, every vestige of colour vanished from his cheeks and lips. they were written by cleopatra's own hand, and contained the following lines: "the naval battle was lost--and by my fault. the land forces might still save us, but not under his command. he is with me, uninjured, but apparently exhausted; like a different being, bereft of courage, listless as if utterly crushed. i foresee the beginning of the end. as soon as this reaches you, arrange to have some unpretending litters ready for us every evening at sunset. make the people believe that we have conquered until trustworthy intelligence arrives concerning the fate of canidius and the army. when you kiss the children in my name, be very tender with them. who knows how soon they may be orphaned? they already have an unhappy mother; may they be spared the memory of a cowardly one! trust no one except those whom i left in authority, and archibius, not even caesarion or antyllus. provide for having every one whose aid may be valuable to me within reach when i come. i cannot close with the familiar 'rejoice'--the 'fresh courage' placed on many a tombstone seems more appropriate. you who did not envy me in my happiness will help me to bear misfortune. epicurus, who believes that the gods merely watch the destiny of men inactively from their blissful heights, is right. were it otherwise, how could the love and loyalty which cleave to the hapless, defeated woman, be repaid with anguish of heart and tears? yet continue to love her." archibius, pale and silent, let the tablet fall. it was long ere he gasped hoarsely: "i foresaw it; yet now that it is here--" his voice failed, and violent, tearless sobs shook his powerful frame. sinking on a couch he buried his face amid the cushions. iras gazed at the strong man and shook her head. she, too, loved the queen; the news had brought tears to her eyes also; but even while she wept, a host of plans coping with this disaster had darted through her restless brain. a few minutes after the arrival of the message of misfortune she had consulted with the members of cleopatra's council, and adopted measures for sustaining the people's belief in the naval victory. what was she, the delicate, by no means courageous girl, compared to this man of iron strength who, she was well aware, had braved the greatest perils in the service of the queen? yet there he lay with his face hidden in the pillows as if utterly overwhelmed. did a woman's soul rebound more quickly after being crushed beneath the burdens of the heaviest suffering, or was hers of a special character, and her slender body the casket of a hero's nature? she had reason to believe so when she recalled how the regent and the keeper of the seal had received the terrible news. they had rushed frantically up and down the vast hall as if desperate; but mardion the eunuch had little manhood, and zeno was a characterless old author who had won the queen's esteem, and the high office which he occupied solely by the vivid power of imagination, that enabled him constantly to devise new exhibitions, amusements, and entertainments, and present them with magical splendour. but archibius, the brave, circumspect counsellor and helper? his shoulders again quivered as if they had received a blow, and iras suddenly remembered what she had long known, but never fully realized-- that yonder grey-haired man loved cleopatra, loved her as she herself loved dion; and she wondered whether she would have been strong enough to maintain her composure if she had learned that a cruel fate threatened to rob him of life, liberty, and honour. hour after hour she had vainly awaited the young alexandrian, yet he had witnessed her anxiety the day before. had she offended him? was he detained by the spell of didymus's granddaughter? it seemed a great wrong that, amid the unspeakably terrible misfortune which had overtaken her mistress, she could not refrain from thinking continually of dion. even as his image filled her heart, cleopatra's ruled her uncle's mind and soul, and she said to herself that it was not alone among women that love paid no heed to years, or whether the locks were brown or tinged with grey. but archibius now raised himself, left the couch, passed his hand across his brow, and in the deep, calm tones natural to his voice, began with a sorrowful smile: "a man stricken by an arrow leaves the fray to have his wound bandaged. the surgeon has now finished his task. i ought to have spared you this pitiable spectacle, child. but i am again ready for the battle. cleopatra's account of antony's condition renders a piece of news which we have just received somewhat more intelligible." "we?" replied iras. "who was your companion?" "dion," answered archibius; but when he was about to describe the incidents of the preceding night, she interrupted him with the question whether barine had consented to leave the city. he assented with a curt "yes," but iras assumed the manner of having expected nothing different, and requested him to continue his story. archibius now related everything which they had experienced, and their discovery in the pirate ship. dion was even now on the way to carry antony's order to his friend gorgias. "any slave might have attended to that matter equally well," iras remarked in an irritated tone. "i should think he would have more reason to expect trustworthy tidings here. but that's the way with men!" here she hesitated but, meeting an inquiring glance from her uncle, she went on eagerly; "nothing, i believe, binds them more firmly to one another than mutual pleasure. but that must now be over. they will seek other amusements, whether with heliodora or thais i care not. if the woman had only gone before! when she caught young caesarion--" "stay, child," her uncle interrupted reprovingly. "i know how much she would rejoice if antyllus had never brought the boy to her house." "now--because the poor deluded lad's infatuation alarms her." "no, from his first visit. immature boys do not suit the distinguished men whom she receives." "if the door is always kept open, thieves will enter the house." "she received only old acquaintances, and the friends whom they presented. her house was closed to all others. so there was no trouble with thieves. but who in alexandria could venture to refuse admittance to a son of the queen?" "there is a wide difference between quiet admittance and fanning a passion to madness. wherever a fire is burning, there has certainly been a spark to kindle it. you men do not detect such women's work. a glance, a pressure of the hand, even the light touch of a garment, and the flame blazes, where such inflammable material lies ready." "we lament the violence of the conflagration. you are not well disposed towards barine." "i care no more for her than this couch here cares for the statue of mercury in the street!" exclaimed iras, with repellent arrogance. "there could be no two things in the world more utterly alien than we. between the woman whose door stands open, and me, there is nothing in common save our sex." "and," replied archibius reprovingly, "many a beautiful gift which the gods bestowed upon her as well as upon you. as for the open door, it was closed yesterday. the thieves of whom you spoke spoiled her pleasure in granting hospitality. antyllus forced himself with noisy impetuosity into her house. this made her dread still more unprecedented conduct in the future. in a few hours she will be on the way to irenia. i am glad for caesarion's sake, and still more for his mother's, whom we have wronged by forgetting so long for another." "to think that we should be forced to do so!" cried iras excitedly--" now, at this hour, when every drop of blood, every thought of this poor brain should belong to the queen! yet it could not be avoided. cleopatra is returning to us with a heart bleeding from a hundred wounds, and it is terrible to think that a new arrow must strike her as soon as she steps upon her native soil. you know how she loves the boy, who is the living image of the great man with whom she shared the highest joys of love. when she learns that he, the son of caesar, has given his young heart to the cast-off wife of a street orator, a woman whose home attracted men as ripe dates lure birds, it will be--i know--like rubbing salt into her fresh wounds. alas! and the one sorrow will not be all. antony, her husband, also found the way to barine. he sought her more than once. you cannot know it as i do; but charmian will tell you how sensitive she has become since the flower of her youthful charms--you don't perceive it--is losing one leaf after another. jealousy will torture her, and--i know her well--perhaps no one will ever render the siren a greater service than i did when i compelled her to leave the city." the eyes of archibius's clever niece had glittered with such hostile feeling as she spoke that he thought with just anxiety of his dead friend's daughter. what did not yet threaten barine as serious danger iras had the power to transform into grave peril. dion had begged him to maintain strict secrecy; but even had he been permitted to speak, he would not have done so now. from his knowledge of iras's character she might be expected, if she learned that some one had come between her and the friend of her youth, to shrink from no means of spoiling her game. he remembered the noble macedonian maiden whom the queen had begun to favour, and who was hunted to death by iras's hostile intrigues. few were more clever, and--if she once loved--more loyal and devoted, more yielding, pliant, and in happy hours more bewitching, yet even in childhood she had preferred a winding path to a straight one. it seemed as if her shrewdness scorned to attain the end desired by the simple method lying close at hand. how willingly his mother and his younger sister charmian had cared for the slaves and nursed them when they were ill; nay, charmian had gained in her nubian maid aniukis a friend who would have gone to death for her sake! cleopatra, too, when a child, had found sincere delight in taking a bouquet to his parents' sick old housekeeper and sitting by her bedside to shorten the time for her with merry talk. she had gone to her unasked, while iras had often been punished because she had made the lives of numerous slaves in her parents' household still harder by unreasonable harshness. this trait in her character had roused her uncle's anxiety and, in after-years, her treatment of her inferiors had been such that he could not number her among the excellent of her sex. therefore he was the more joyfully surprised by the loyal, unselfish love with which she devoted herself to the service of the queen. cleopatra had gratified charmian's wish to have her niece for an assistant; and iras, who had never been a loving daughter to her own faithful mother, had served her royal mistress with the utmost tenderness. archibius valued this loyalty highly, but he knew what awaited any one who became the object of her hatred, and the fear that it would involve barine in urgent peril was added to his still greater anxiety for cleopatra. when about to depart, burdened by the sorrowful conviction that he was powerless against his niece's malevolent purpose, he was detained by the representation that every fresh piece of intelligence would first reach the sebasteum and her. some question might easily arise which his calm, prudent mind could decide far better than hers, whose troubled condition resembled a shallow pool disturbed by stones flung into the waves. the apartments of his sister charmian, which were connected with his by a corridor, were empty, and iras begged him to remain there a short time. the anxiety and dread that oppressed her heart would kill her. to know that he was near would be the greatest comfort. when archibius hesitated because he deemed it his duty to urge caesarion, over whom he possessed some influence, to give up his foolish wishes for his mother's sake, iras assured him that he would not find the youth. he had gone hunting with antyllus and some other friends. she had approved the plan, because it removed him from the city and barine's dangerous house. "as the queen does not wish him to know the terrible news yet," she concluded, "his presence would only have caused us embarrassment. so stay, and when it grows dark go with us to the lochias. i think it will please the sorrowing woman, when she lands, to see your familiar face, which will remind her of happier days. do me the favour to stay." she held out both hands beseechingly as she spoke, and archibius consented. a repast was served, and he shared it with his niece; but iras did not touch the carefully chosen viands, and archibius barely tasted them. then, without waiting for dessert, he rose to go to his sister's apartments. but iras urged him to rest on the divan in the adjoining room, and he yielded. yet, spite of the softness of the pillows and his great need of sleep, he could not find it; anxiety kept him awake, and through the curtain which divided the room in which iras remained from the one he occupied he sometimes heard her light footsteps pacing restlessly to and fro, sometimes the coming and going of messengers in quest of news. all his former life passed before his mind. cleopatra had been his sun, and now black clouds were rising which would dim its light, perchance forever. he, the disciple of epicurus, who had not followed the doctrines of other masters until later in life, held the same view of the gods as his first master. to him also they had seemed immortal beings sufficient unto themselves, dwelling free from anxiety in blissful peace, to whom mortals must look upward on account of their supreme grandeur, but who neither troubled themselves about the guidance of the world, which was fixed by eternal laws, nor the fate of individuals. had he been convinced of the contrary, he would have sacrificed everything he possessed in order, by lavish offerings, to propitiate the immortals in behalf of her to whom he had devoted his life and every faculty of his being. like iras, he, too, could find no rest upon his couch, and when she heard his step she called to him and asked why he did not recover the sleep which he had lost. no one knew the demands the next night might make upon him. "you will find me awake," he answered quietly. then he went to the window which, above the pylons that rose before the main front of the sebasteum, afforded a view of the bruchium and the sea. the harbour was now swarming with vessels of every size, garlanded with flowers and adorned with gay flags and streamers. the report of the successful issue of the first naval battle was believed, and many desired to greet the victorious fleet and hail their sovereign as she entered the harbour. many people, equipages, and litters had also gathered on the shore, between the lofty pylons and the huge door of the sebasteum. they were representatives of the aristocracy of the city; for the majority were attended by richly attired slaves. many wore costly garlands, and numerous chariots and litters were adorned with gold or silver ornaments, gems, and glittering paste. the stir and movement in front of the palace were ceaseless, and iras, who was now standing beside her uncle, waved her hand towards it, saying: "the wind of rumour! yesterday only one or two came; to-day every one who belongs to the 'inimitable livers' flocks hither in person to get news. the victory was proclaimed in the market- place, at the theatre, the gymnasium, and the camp. every one who wears garlands or weapons heard of a battle won. yesterday, among all the thousands, there was scarcely a single doubter; but to-day-how does it happen? even among those who as 'inimitables' have shared all the pleasures, entertainments, and festivities of our noble pair, faith wavers; for if they were firmly convinced of the brilliant victory which was announced loudly enough, they would not come themselves to watch, to spy, to listen. just look down! there is the litter of diogenes-- yonder that of ammonius. the chariot beyond belongs to melampous. the slaves in the red bombyx garments serve hermias. they all belong to the society of--'inimitables,' and shared our banquets. that very apollonius who, for the last half hour, has been trying to question the palace servants, day before yesterday ordered fifty oxen to be slaughtered to ares, nike, and the great isis, as the queen's goddess, and when i met him in the temple he exclaimed that this was the greatest piece of extravagance he had ever committed; for even without the cattle cleopatra and antony would be sure of victory. but now the wind of rumour has swept away his beautiful confidence also. they are not permitted to see me. the doorkeepers say that i am in the country. the necessity of showing every one a face radiant with the joy of victory would kill me. there comes apollonius. how his fat face beams! he believes in the victory, and after sunset none of yonder throng will appear here; he is already giving orders to his slaves. he will invite all his friends to a banquet, and won't spare his costly wines. capital! at least no one from that company can disturb us. dion is his cousin, and will be present also. we shall see what these pleasure-lovers will do when they are forced to confront, the terrible reality." "i think," replied archibius, "they will afford the world a remarkable spectacle; friends won in prosperity who remain constant in adversity." "do you?" asked iras, with sparkling eyes. "if that proves true, how i would praise and value men--the majority of whom without their wealth would be poorer than beggars. but look at yonder figure in the white robe beside the left obelisk--is it not dion? the crowd is bearing him away--i think it was he." but she had been deceived; the man whom she fancied she had seen, because her heart so ardently yearned for him, was not near the sebasteum, and his thoughts were still farther away. at first he had intended to give the architect the letter which was addressed to him. he would be sure to find him at the triumphal arch which was being erected on the shore of the bruchium. but on reaching the former place he learned that gorgias had gone to remove the statues of cleopatra and antony from the house of didymus, and erect them in front of the theatre of dionysus. the regent, mardion, had ordered it. gorgias was already superintending the erection of the foundation. the huge hewn stones which he required for this purpose had been taken from the temple of nemesis, which he was supervising. whatever number of government slaves he needed were at his disposal, so gorgias's foreman reported, proudly adding that before the sun went down, the architect would have shown the alexandrians the marvel of removing the twin statues from one place to another in a single day, and yet establishing them as firmly as the colossus which had been in thebes a thousand years. dion found the piece of sculpture in front of didymus's garden, ready for removal, but the slaves who had placed before the platform the rollers on which it was to be moved had already been kept waiting a long time by the architect. this was his third visit to the old philosopher's house. first, he had been obliged to inform him and his family that their property was no longer in danger; then he had come to tell them at what hour he would remove the statues, which still attracted many curious spectators; and, finally, he had again appeared, to announce that they were to be taken away at once. his foreman or a slave could probably have done this, but helena--didymus's granddaughter, barine's sister--drew him again and again to the old man's home. he would gladly have come still more frequently, for at every meeting he had discovered fresh charms in the beautiful, quiet, thoughtful maiden, who cared so tenderly for her aged grandparents. he believed that he loved her, and she seemed glad to welcome him. but this did not entitle him to seek her hand, though his large, empty house so greatly needed a mistress. his heart had glowed with love for too many. he wished first to test whether this new fancy would prove more lasting. if he succeeded in remaining faithful even a few days, he would, as it were, reward himself for it, and appear before didymus as a suitor. he excused his frequent visits to himself on the pretext of the necessity of becoming acquainted with his future wife, and helena made the task easier for him. the usual reserve of her manner lessened more and more; nay, the great confidence with which he at first inspired her was increased by his active assistance. when he entered just now, she had even held out her hand to him, and inquired about the progress of his work. he was overwhelmed with business, but so great was his pleasure in talking with her that he lingered longer than he would have deemed right under any other circumstances, and regarded it as an unpleasant interruption when barine--for whom his heart had throbbed so warmly only yesterday--entered the tablinum. the young beauty was by no means content with a brief greeting; but drew helena entirely away from him. never had he seen her embrace and kiss her sister so passionately as while hurriedly telling her that she had come to bid farewell to the loved ones in her grandparents' house. berenike had arrived with her, but went first to the old couple. while barine was telling helena and gorgias, also, why all this plan had been formed so hastily, gorgias was silently comparing the two sisters. he found it natural that he had once believed that he loved barine; but she would not have been a fitting mistress of his house. life at her side would have been a chain of jealous emotions and anxieties, and her stimulating remarks and searching questions, which demanded absolute attention, would not have permitted him, after his return home, wearied by arduous toil, to find the rest for which he longed. his eye wandered from her to her sister, as if testing the space between two newly erected pillars; and barine, who had noticed his strange manner, suddenly laughed merrily, and asked whether they might know what building was occupying his thoughts, while a good friend was telling him that the pleasant hours in her house were over. gorgias started, and the apology he stammered showed so plainly how inattentively he had listened, that barine would have had good reason to feel offended. but one glance at her sister and another at him enabled her speedily to guess the truth. she was pleased; for she esteemed gorgias, and had secretly feared that she might be forced to grieve him by a refusal, but he seemed as if created for her sister. her arrival had probably interrupted them so, turning to helena, she exclaimed: "i must see my mother and our grandparents. meanwhile entertain our friend here. we know each other well. he is one of the few men who can be trusted. that is my honest opinion, gorgias, and i say it to you also, helena." with these words she nodded to both, and gorgias was again alone with the maiden whom he loved. it was difficult to begin the conversation anew, and when, spite of many efforts, it would not flow freely, the shout of the overseer, which reached his ear through the opening of the roof, urging the men to work, was like a deliverance. promising to return again soon, as eagerly as if he had been requested to do so, he took his leave and opened the door leading into the adjoining room. but on the threshold he started back, and helena, who had followed him, did the same, for there stood his friend dion, and barine's beautiful head lay on his breast, while his hand rested as if in benediction on her fair hair. and--no, gorgias was not mistaken-the slender frame of the lovely woman, whose exuberant vivacity had so often borne him and others away with it, trembled as if shaken by deep and painful emotion. when dion perceived his friend, and barine raised her head, turning her face towards him, it was indeed wet with tears, but their source could not be sorrow; for her blue eyes were sparkling with a happy light. yet gorgias found something in her features which he was unable to express in words--the reflection of the ardent gratitude that had taken possession of her soul and filled it absolutely. while seeking the architect, dion had met barine, who was on her way to her grandparents, and what he had dreaded the day before happened. the first glance from her eyes which met his forced the decisive question from his lips. in brief, earnest words he confessed his love for her, and his desire to make her his own, as the pride and ornament of his house. then, in the intensity of her bliss, her eyes overflowed and, under the spell of a great miracle wrought in her behalf, she found no words to answer; but dion had approached, clasped her right hand in both of his, and frankly acknowledged how, with the image of his strict mother before his eyes, he had wavered and hesitated until love had overmastered him. now, full of the warmest confidence, he asked whether she would consent to rule as mistress of his home, the honour and ornament of his ancient name? he knew that her heart was his, but he must hear one thing more from her lips-- here she had interrupted him with the cry, "this one thing--that your wife, in joy and in sorrow, will live for you and you alone? the whole world can vanish for her, now that you have raised her to your side and she is yours." after this assurance, which sounded like an oath, dion felt as if a heavy burden had fallen from his heart, and clasping her in his arms with passionate tenderness, he repeated, "in joy and in sorrow!" thus gorgias and helena had surprised them, and the architect felt for the first time that there is no distinction between our own happiness and that of those whom we love. his friend helena seemed to have the same feeling, when she saw what this day had given her sister; and the philosopher's house, so lately shadowed by anxiety, and many a fear, would soon ring with voices uttering joyous congratulations. the architect no longer felt that he had a place in this circle, which was now pervaded by a great common joy, and after dion made a brief explanation, gorgias's voice was soon heard outside loudly issuing orders to the workmen. etext editor's bookmarks: from epicurus to aristippus, is but a short step preferred a winding path to a straight one [illustration: scene of cleopatra's history] history of cleopatra, queen of egypt. by jacob abbott. with engravings. new york: harper & brothers, publishers. . entered, according to act of congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and fifty-one, by harper & brothers, in the clerk's office of the district court of the southern district of new york. preface. in selecting the subjects for the successive volumes of this series, it has been the object of the author to look for the names of those great personages whose histories constitute useful, and not merely entertaining, knowledge. there are certain names which are familiar, as names, to all mankind; and every person who seeks for any degree of mental cultivation, feels desirous of informing himself of the leading outlines of their history, that he may know, in brief, what it was in their characters or their doings which has given them so widely-extended a fame. this knowledge, which it seems incumbent on every one to obtain in respect to such personages as hannibal, alexander, cæsar, cleopatra, darius, xerxes, alfred, william the conqueror, queen elizabeth, and mary, queen of scots, it is the design and object of these volumes to communicate, in a faithful, and, at the same time, if possible, in an attractive manner. consequently, great historical names alone are selected; and it has been the writer's aim to present the prominent and leading traits in their characters, and all the important events in their lives, in a bold and free manner, and yet in the plain and simple language which is so obviously required in works which aim at permanent and practical usefulness. contents. chapter page i. the valley of the nile ii. the ptolemies iii. alexandria iv. cleopatra's father v. accession to the throne vi. cleopatra and cÆsar vii. the alexandrine war viii. cleopatra a queen ix. the battle of philippi x. cleopatra and antony xi. the battle of actium xii. the end of cleopatra engravings. page map, scene of cleopatra's history _frontispiece._ map, the rainless region map, the delta of the nile the birth-day present antony crossing the desert cleopatra entering the palace of cÆsar view of alexandria cleopatra's sister in the triumphal procession the entertainments at tarsus the raising of antony to the upper window of the tomb cleopatra. chapter i. the valley of the nile. the story of cleopatra is a story of crime. it is a narrative of the course and the consequences of unlawful love. in her strange and romantic history we see this passion portrayed with the most complete and graphic fidelity in all its influences and effects; its uncontrollable impulses, its intoxicating joys, its reckless and mad career, and the dreadful remorse and ultimate despair and ruin in which it always and inevitably ends. * * * * * cleopatra was by birth an egyptian; by ancestry and descent she was a greek. thus, while alexandria and the delta of the nile formed the scene of the most important events and incidents of her history, it was the blood of macedon which flowed in her veins. her character and action are marked by the genius, the courage, the originality, and the impulsiveness pertaining to the stock from which she sprung. the events of her history, on the other hand, and the peculiar character of her adventures, her sufferings, and her sins, were determined by the circumstances with which she was surrounded, and the influences which were brought to bear upon her in the soft and voluptuous clime where the scenes of her early life were laid. egypt has always been considered as physically the most remarkable country on the globe. it is a long and narrow valley of verdure and fruitfulness, completely insulated from the rest of the habitable world. it is more completely insulated, in fact, than any literal island could be, inasmuch as deserts are more impassable than seas. the very existence of egypt is a most extraordinary phenomenon. if we could but soar with the wings of an eagle into the air, and look down upon the scene, so as to observe the operation of that grand and yet simple process by which this long and wonderful valley, teeming so profusely with animal and vegetable life, has been formed, and is annually revivified and renewed, in the midst of surrounding wastes of silence, desolation, and death, we should gaze upon it with never-ceasing admiration and pleasure. we have not the wings of the eagle, but the generalizations of science furnish us with a sort of substitute for them. the long series of patient, careful, and sagacious observations, which have been continued now for two thousand years, bring us results, by means of which, through our powers of mental conception, we may take a comprehensive survey of the whole scene, analogous, in some respects, to that which direct and actual vision would afford us, if we could look down upon it from the eagle's point of view. it is, however, somewhat humiliating to our pride of intellect to reflect that long-continued philosophical investigations and learned scientific research are, in such a case as this, after all, in some sense, only a sort of substitute for wings. a human mind connected with a pair of eagle's wings would have solved the mystery of egypt in a week; whereas science, philosophy, and research, confined to the surface of the ground, have been occupied for twenty centuries in accomplishing the undertaking. it is found at last that both the existence of egypt itself, and its strange insulation in the midst of boundless tracts of dry and barren sand, depend upon certain remarkable results of the general laws of rain. the water which is taken up by the atmosphere from the surface of the sea and of the land by evaporation, falls again, under certain circumstances, in showers of rain, the frequency and copiousness of which vary very much in different portions of the earth. as a general principle, rains are much more frequent and abundant near the equator than in temperate climes, and they grow less and less so as we approach the poles. this might naturally have been expected; for, under the burning sun of the equator, the evaporation of water must necessarily go on with immensely greater rapidity than in the colder zones, and all the water which is taken up must, of course, again come down. it is not, however, wholly by the latitude of the region in which the evaporation takes place that the quantity of rain which falls from the atmosphere is determined; for the condition on which the falling back, in rain, of the water which has been taken up by evaporation mainly depends, is the cooling of the atmospheric stratum which contains it; and this effect is produced in very various ways, and many different causes operate to modify it. sometimes the stratum is cooled by being wafted over ranges of mountains; sometimes by encountering and becoming mingled with cooler currents of air; and sometimes, again, by being driven in winds toward a higher, and, consequently, cooler latitude. if, on the other hand, air moves from cold mountains toward warm and sunny plains, or from higher latitudes to lower, or if, among the various currents into which it falls, it becomes mixed with air warmer than itself, its capacity for containing vapor in solution is increased, and, consequently, instead of releasing its hold upon the waters which it has already in possession, it becomes thirsty for more. it moves over a country, under these circumstances, as a warm and drying wind. under a reverse of circumstances it would have formed drifting mists, or, perhaps, even copious showers of rain. it will be evident, from these considerations, that the frequency of the showers, and the quantity of the rain which will fall, in the various regions respectively which the surface of the earth presents, must depend on the combined influence of many causes, such as the warmth of the climate, the proximity and the direction of mountains and of seas, the character of the prevailing winds, and the reflecting qualities of the soil. these and other similar causes, it is found, do, in fact, produce a vast difference in the quantity of rain which falls in different regions. in the northern part of south america, where the land is bordered on every hand by vast tropical seas, which load the hot and thirsty air with vapor, and where the mighty cordillera of the andes rears its icy summits to chill and precipitate the vapors again, a quantity of rain amounting to more than ten feet in perpendicular height falls in a year. at st. petersburg, on the other hand, the quantity thus falling in a year is but little more than one foot. the immense deluge which pours down from the clouds in south america would, if the water were to remain where it fell, wholly submerge and inundate the country. as it is, in flowing off through the valleys to the sea, the united torrents form the greatest river on the globe--the amazon; and the vegetation, stimulated by the heat, and nourished by the abundant and incessant supplies of moisture, becomes so rank, and loads the earth with such an entangled and matted mass of trunks, and stems, and twining wreaths and vines, that man is almost excluded from the scene. the boundless forests become a vast and almost impenetrable jungle, abandoned to wild beasts, noxious reptiles, and huge and ferocious birds of prey. of course, the district of st. petersburg, with its icy winter, its low and powerless sun, and its twelve inches of annual rain, must necessarily present, in all its phenomena of vegetable and animal life, a striking contrast to the exuberant prolificness of new grenada. it is, however, after all, not absolutely the opposite extreme. there are certain regions on the surface of the earth that are actually rainless; and it is these which present us with the true and real contrast to the luxuriant vegetation and teeming life of the country of the amazon. in these rainless regions all is necessarily silence, desolation, and death. no plant can grow; no animal can live. man, too, is forever and hopelessly excluded. if the exuberant abundance of animal and vegetable life shut him out, in some measure, from regions which an excess of heat and moisture render too prolific, the total absence of them still more effectually forbids him a home in these. they become, therefore, vast wastes of dry and barren sands in which no root can find nourishment, and of dreary rocks to which not even a lichen can cling. the most extensive and remarkable rainless region on the earth is a vast tract extending through the interior and northern part of africa, and the southwestern part of asia. the red sea penetrates into this tract from the south, and thus breaks the outline and continuity of its form, without, however, altering, or essentially modifying its character. it divides it, however, and to the different portions which this division forms, different names have been given. the asiatic portion is called arabia deserta; the african tract has received the name of sahara; while between these two, in the neighborhood of egypt, the barren region is called simply _the desert_. the whole tract is marked, however, throughout, with one all-pervading character: the absence of vegetable, and, consequently, of animal life, on account of the absence of rain. the rising of a range of lofty mountains in the center of it, to produce a precipitation of moisture from the air, would probably transform the whole of the vast waste into as verdant, and fertile, and populous a region i as any on the globe. [illustration: valley of the nile] as it is, there are no such mountains. the whole tract is nearly level, and so little elevated above the sea, that, at the distance of many hundred miles in the interior, the land rises only to the height of a few hundred feet above the surface of the mediterranean; whereas in new grenada, at less than one hundred miles from the sea, the chain of the andes rises to elevations of from ten to fifteen thousand feet. such an ascent as that of a few hundred feet in hundreds of miles would be wholly imperceptible to any ordinary mode of observation; and the great rainless region, accordingly, of africa and asia is, as it appears to the traveler, one vast plain, a thousand miles wide and five thousand miles long, with only one considerable interruption to the dead monotony which reigns, with that exception, every where over the immense expanse of silence and solitude. the single interval of fruitfulness and life is the valley of the nile. there are, however, in fact, three interruptions to the continuity of this plain, though only one of them constitutes any considerable interruption to its barrenness. they are all of them valleys, extending from north to south, and lying side by side. the most easterly of these valleys is so deep that the waters of the ocean flow into it from the south, forming a long and narrow inlet called the red sea. as this inlet communicates freely with the ocean, it is always nearly of the same level, and as the evaporation from it is not sufficient to produce rain, it does not even fertilize its own shores. its presence varies the dreary scenery of the landscape, it is true, by giving us surging waters to look upon instead of driving sands; but this is all. with the exception of the spectacle of an english steamer passing, at weary intervals, over its dreary expanse, and some moldering remains of ancient cities on its eastern shore, it affords scarcely any indications of life. it does very little, therefore, to relieve the monotonous aspect of solitude and desolation which reigns over the region into which it has intruded. the most westerly of the three valleys to which we have alluded is only a slight depression of the surface of the land marked by a line of _oases_. the depression is not sufficient to admit the waters of the mediterranean, nor are there any rains over any portion of the valley which it forms sufficient to make it the bed of a stream. springs issue, however, here and there, in several places, from the ground, and, percolating through the sands along the valley, give fertility to little dells, long and narrow, which, by the contrast that they form with the surrounding desolation, seem to the traveler to possess the verdure and beauty of paradise. there is a line of these oases extending along this westerly depression, and some of them are of considerable extent. the oasis of siweh, on which stood the far-famed temple of jupiter ammon, was many miles in extent, and was said to have contained in ancient times a population of eight thousand souls. thus, while the most easterly of the three valleys which we have named was sunk so low as to admit the ocean to flow freely into it, the most westerly was so slightly depressed that it gained only a circumscribed and limited fertility through the springs, which, in the lowest portions of it, oozed from the ground. the third valley--the central one--remains now to be described. the reader will observe, by referring once more to the map, that south of the great rainless region of which we are speaking, there lie groups and ranges of mountains in abyssinia, called the mountains of the moon. these mountains are near the equator, and the relation which they sustain to the surrounding seas, and to currents of wind which blow in that quarter of the world, is such, that they bring down from the atmosphere, especially in certain seasons of the year, vast and continual torrents of rain. the water which thus falls drenches the mountain sides and deluges the valleys. there is a great portion of it which can not flow to the southward or eastward toward the sea, as the whole country consists, in those directions, of continuous tracts of elevated land. the rush of water thus turns to the northward, and, pressing on across the desert through the great central valley which we have referred to above, it finds an outlet, at last, in the mediterranean, at a point two thousand miles distant from the place where the immense condenser drew it from the skies. the river thus created is the nile. it is formed, in a word, by the surplus waters of a district inundated with rains, in their progress across a rainless desert, seeking the sea. if the surplus of water upon the abyssinian mountains had been constant and uniform, the stream, in its passage across the desert, would have communicated very little fertility to the barren sands which it traversed. the immediate banks of the river would have, perhaps, been fringed with verdure, but the influence of the irrigation would have extended no further than the water itself could have reached, by percolation through the sand. but the flow of the water is not thus uniform and steady. in a certain season of the year the rains are incessant, and they descend with such abundance and profusion as almost to inundate the districts where they fall. immense torrents stream down the mountain sides; the valleys are deluged; plains turn into morasses, and morasses into lakes. in a word, the country becomes half submerged, and the accumulated mass of waters would rush with great force and violence down the central valley of the desert, which forms their only outlet, if the passage were narrow, and if it made any considerable descent in its course to the sea. it is, however, not narrow, and the descent is very small. the depression in the surface of the desert, through which the water flows, is from five to ten miles wide, and, though it is nearly two thousand miles from the rainy district across the desert to the sea, the country for the whole distance is almost level. there is only sufficient descent, especially for the last thousand miles, to determine a very gentle current to the northward in the waters of the stream. under these circumstances, the immense quantity of water which falls in the rainy district in these inundating tropical showers, expands over the whole valley, and forms for a time an immense lake, extending in length across the whole breadth of the desert. this lake is, of course, from five to ten miles wide, and a thousand miles long. the water in it is shallow and turbid, and it has a gentle current toward the north. the rains, at length, in a great measure cease; but it requires some months for the water to run off and leave the valley dry. as soon as it is gone, there springs up from the whole surface of the ground which has been thus submerged a most rank and luxuriant vegetation. this vegetation, now wholly regulated and controlled by the hand of man, must have been, in its original and primeval state, of a very peculiar character. it must have consisted of such plants only as could exist under the condition of having the soil in which they grew laid, for a quarter of the year, wholly under water. this circumstance, probably, prevented the valley of the nile from having been, like other fertile tracts of land, encumbered, in its native state, with forests. for the same reason, wild beasts could never have haunted it. there were no forests to shelter them, and no refuge or retreat for them but the dry and barren desert, during the period of the annual inundations. this most extraordinary valley seems thus to have been formed and preserved by nature herself for the special possession of man. she herself seems to have held it in reserve for him from the very morning of creation, refusing admission into it to every plant and every animal that might hinder or disturb his occupancy and control. and if he were to abandon it now for a thousand years, and then return to it once more, he would find it just as he left it, ready for his immediate possession. there would be no wild beasts that he must first expel, and no tangled forests would have sprung up, that his ax must first remove. nature is the husbandman who keeps this garden of the world in order, and the means and machinery by which she operates are the grand evaporating surfaces of the seas, the beams of the tropical sun, the lofty summits of the abyssinian mountains, and, as the product and result of all this instrumentality, great periodical inundations of summer rain. for these or some other reasons egypt has been occupied by man from the most remote antiquity. the oldest records of the human race, made three thousand years ago, speak of egypt as ancient then, when they were written. not only is tradition silent, but even fable herself does not attempt to tell the story of the origin of her population. here stand the oldest and most enduring monuments that human power has ever been able to raise. it is, however, somewhat humiliating to the pride of the race to reflect that the loftiest and proudest, as well as the most permanent and stable of all the works which man has ever accomplished, are but the incidents and adjuncts of a thin stratum of alluvial fertility, left upon the sands by the subsiding waters of summer showers. the most important portion of the alluvion of the nile is the northern portion, where the valley widens and opens toward the sea, forming a triangular plain of about one hundred miles in length on each of the sides, over which the waters of the river flow in a great number of separate creeks and channels. the whole area forms a vast meadow, intersected every where with slow-flowing streams of water, and presenting on its surface the most enchanting pictures of fertility, abundance, and beauty. this region is called the delta of the nile. [illustration: delta of the nile] the sea upon the coast is shallow, and the fertile country formed by the deposits of the river seems to have projected somewhat beyond the line of the coast; although, as the land has not advanced perceptibly for the last eighteen hundred years, it may be somewhat doubtful whether the whole of the apparent protrusion is not due to the natural conformation of the coast, rather than to any changes made by the action of the river. the delta of the nile is so level itself, and so little raised above the level of the mediterranean, that the land seems almost a continuation of the same surface with the sea, only, instead of blue waters topped with white-crested waves, we have broad tracts of waving grain, and gentle swells of land crowned with hamlets and villages. in approaching the coast, the navigator has no distant view of all this verdure and beauty. it lies so low that it continues beneath the horizon until the ship is close upon the shore. the first landmarks, in fact, which the seaman makes, are the tops of trees growing apparently out of the water, or the summit of an obelisk, or the capital of a pillar, marking the site of some ancient and dilapidated city. the most easterly of the channels by which the waters of the river find their way through the delta to the sea, is called, as it will be seen marked upon the map, the pelusiac branch. it forms almost the boundary of the fertile region of the delta on the eastern side. there was an ancient city named pelusium near the mouth of it. this was, of course, the first egyptian city reached by those who arrived by land from the eastward, traveling along the shores of the mediterranean sea. on account of its thus marking the eastern frontier of the country, it became a point of great importance, and is often mentioned in the histories of ancient times. the westernmost mouth of the nile, on the other hand, was called the canopic mouth. the distance along the coast from the canopic mouth to pelusium was about a hundred miles. the outline of the coast was formerly, as it still continues to be, very irregular, and the water shallow. extended banks of sand protruded into the sea, and the sea itself, as if in retaliation, formed innumerable creeks, and inlets, and lagoons in the land. along this irregular and uncertain boundary the waters of the nile and the surges of the mediterranean kept up an eternal war, with energies so nearly equal, that now, after the lapse of eighteen hundred years since the state of the contest began to be recorded, neither side has been found to have gained any perceptible advantage over the other. the river brings the sands down, and the sea drives them incessantly back, keeping the whole line of the shore in such a condition as to make it extremely dangerous and difficult of access to man. it will be obvious, from this description of the valley of the nile, that it formed a country which was in ancient times isolated and secluded, in a very striking manner, from all the rest of the world. it was wholly shut in by deserts, on every side, by land; and the shoals, and sand-bars, and other dangers of navigation which marked the line of the coast, seemed to forbid approach by sea. here it remained for many ages, under the rule of its own native ancient kings. its population was peaceful and industrious. its scholars were famed throughout the world for their learning, their science, and their philosophy. it was in these ages, before other nations had intruded upon its peaceful seclusion, that the pyramids were built, and the enormous monoliths carved, and those vast temples reared whose ruined columns are now the wonder of mankind. during these remote ages, too, egypt was, as now, the land of perpetual fertility and abundance. there would always be corn in egypt, wherever else famine might rage. the neighboring nations and tribes in arabia, palestine, and syria, found their way to it, accordingly, across the deserts on the eastern side, when driven by want, and thus opened a way of communication. at length the persian monarchs, after extending their empire westward to the mediterranean, found access by the same road to pelusium, and thence overran and conquered the country. at last, about two hundred and fifty years before the time of cleopatra, alexander the great, when he subverted the persian empire, took possession of egypt, and annexed it, among the other persian provinces, to his own dominions. at the division of alexander's empire, after his death, egypt fell to one of his generals, named ptolemy. ptolemy made it his kingdom, and left it, at his death, to his heirs. a long line of sovereigns succeeded him, known in history as the dynasty of the ptolemies--greek princes, reigning over an egyptian realm. cleopatra was the daughter of the eleventh in the line. the capital of the ptolemies was alexandria. until the time of alexander's conquest, egypt had no sea-port. there were several landing-places along the coast, but no proper harbor. in fact, egypt had then so little commercial intercourse with the rest of the world, that she scarcely needed any. alexander's engineers, however, in exploring the shore, found a point not far from the canopic mouth of the nile where the water was deep, and where there was an anchorage ground protected by an island. alexander founded a city there, which he called by his own name. he perfected the harbor by artificial excavations and embankments. a lofty light-house was reared, which formed a landmark by day, and exhibited a blazing star by night to guide the galleys of the mediterranean in. a canal was made to connect the port with the nile, and warehouses were erected to contain the stores of merchandise. in a word, alexandria became at once a great commercial capital. it was the seat, for several centuries, of the magnificent government of the ptolemies; and so well was its situation chosen for the purposes intended, that it still continues, after the lapse of twenty centuries of revolution and change, one of the principal emporiums of the commerce of the east. chapter ii. the ptolemies. the founder of the dynasty of the ptolemies--the ruler into whose hands the kingdom of egypt fell, as has already been stated, at the death of alexander the great--was a macedonian general in alexander's army. the circumstances of his birth, and the events which led to his entering into the service of alexander, were somewhat peculiar. his mother, whose name was arsinoë, was a personal favorite and companion of philip, king of macedon, the father of alexander. philip at length gave arsinoë in marriage to a certain man of his court named lagus. a very short time after the marriage, ptolemy was born. philip treated the child with the same consideration and favor that he had evinced toward the mother. the boy was called the son of lagus, but his position in the royal court of macedon was as high and honorable, and the attentions which he received were as great, as he could have expected to enjoy if he had been in reality a son of the king. as he grew up, he attained to official stations of considerable responsibility and power. in the course of time, a certain transaction occurred, by means of which ptolemy involved himself in serious difficulty with philip, though by the same means he made alexander very strongly his friend. there was a province of the persian empire called caria, situated in the southwestern part of asia minor. the governor of this province had offered his daughter to philip as the wife of one of his sons named aridæus, the half brother of alexander. alexander's mother, who was not the mother of aridæus, was jealous of this proposed marriage. she thought that it was part of a scheme for bringing aridæus forward into public notice, and finally making him the heir to philip's throne; whereas she was very earnest that this splendid inheritance should be reserved for her own son. accordingly, she proposed to alexander that they should send a secret embassage to the persian governor, and represent to him that it would be much better, both for him and for his daughter, that she should have alexander instead of aridæus for a husband, and induce him, if possible, to demand of philip that he should make the change. alexander entered readily into this scheme, and various courtiers, ptolemy among the rest, undertook to aid him in the accomplishment of it. the embassy was sent. the governor of caria was very much pleased with the change which they proposed to him. in fact, the whole plan seemed to be going on very successfully toward its accomplishment, when, by some means or other, philip discovered the intrigue. he went immediately into alexander's apartment, highly excited with resentment and anger. he had never intended to make aridæus, whose birth on the mother's side was obscure and ignoble, the heir to his throne, and he reproached alexander in the bitterest terms for being of so debased and degenerate a spirit as to desire to marry the daughter of a persian governor; a man who was, in fact, the mere slave, as he said, of a barbarian king. alexander's scheme was thus totally defeated; and so displeased was his father with the officers who had undertaken to aid him in the execution of it, that he banished them all from the kingdom. ptolemy, in consequence of this decree, wandered about an exile from his country for some years, until at length the death of philip enabled alexander to recall him. alexander succeeded his father as king of macedon, and immediately made ptolemy one of his principal generals. ptolemy rose, in fact, to a very high command in the macedonian army, and distinguished himself very greatly in all the celebrated conqueror's subsequent campaigns. in the persian invasion, ptolemy commanded one of the three grand divisions of the army, and he rendered repeatedly the most signal services to the cause of his master. he was employed on the most distant and dangerous enterprises, and was often intrusted with the management of affairs of the utmost importance. he was very successful in all his undertakings. he conquered armies, reduced fortresses, negotiated treaties, and evinced, in a word, the highest degree of military energy and skill. he once saved alexander's life by discovering and revealing a dangerous conspiracy which had been formed against the king. alexander had the opportunity to requite this favor, through a divine interposition vouchsafed to him, it was said, for the express purpose of enabling him to evince his gratitude. ptolemy had been wounded by a poisoned arrow, and when all the remedies and antidotes of the physicians had failed, and the patient was apparently about to die, an effectual means of cure was revealed to alexander in a dream, and ptolemy, in his turn, was saved. at the great rejoicings at susa, when alexander's conquests were completed, ptolemy was honored with a golden crown, and he was married, with great pomp and ceremony, to artacama, the daughter of one of the most distinguished persian generals. at length alexander died suddenly, after a night of drinking and carousal at babylon. he had no son old enough to succeed him, and his immense empire was divided among his generals. ptolemy obtained egypt for his share. he repaired immediately to alexandria, with a great army, and a great number of greek attendants and followers, and there commenced a reign which continued, in great prosperity and splendor, for forty years. the native egyptians were reduced, of course, to subjection and bondage. all the offices in the army, and all stations of trust and responsibility in civil life, were filled by greeks. alexandria was a greek city, and it became at once one of the most important commercial centers in all those seas. greek and roman travelers found now a language spoken in egypt which they could understand, and philosophers and scholars could gratify the curiosity which they had so long felt, in respect to the institutions, and monuments, and wonderful physical characteristics of the country, with safety and pleasure. in a word, the organization of a greek government over the ancient kingdom, and the establishment of the great commercial relations of the city of alexandria, conspired to bring egypt out from its concealment and seclusion, and to open it in some measure to the intercourse, as well as to bring it more fully under the observation, of the rest of mankind. ptolemy, in fact, made it a special object of his policy to accomplish these ends. he invited greek scholars, philosophers, poets, and artists, in great numbers, to come to alexandria, and to make his capital their abode. he collected an immense library, which subsequently, under the name of the alexandrian library, became one of the most celebrated collections of books and manuscripts that was ever made. we shall have occasion to refer more particularly to this library in the next chapter. besides prosecuting these splendid schemes for the aggrandizement of egypt, king ptolemy was engaged, during almost the whole period of his reign, in waging incessant wars with the surrounding nations. he engaged in these wars, in part, for the purpose of extending the boundaries of his empire, and in part for self-defense against the aggressions and encroachments of other powers. he finally succeeded in establishing his kingdom on the most stable and permanent basis, and then, when he was drawing toward the close of his life, being in fact over eighty years of age, he abdicated his throne in favor of his youngest son, whose name was also ptolemy. ptolemy the father, the founder of the dynasty, is known commonly in history by the name of ptolemy soter. his son is called ptolemy philadelphus. this son, though the youngest, was preferred to his brothers as heir to the throne on account of his being the son of the most favored and beloved of the monarch's wives. the determination of soter to abdicate the throne himself arose from his wish to put this favorite son in secure possession of it before his death, in order to prevent the older brothers from disputing the succession. the coronation of philadelphus was made one of the most magnificent and imposing ceremonies that royal pomp and parade ever arranged. two years afterward ptolemy the father died, and was buried by his son with a magnificence almost equal to that of his own coronation. his body was deposited in a splendid mausoleum, which had been built for the remains of alexander; and so high was the veneration which was felt by mankind for the greatness of his exploits and the splendor of his reign, that divine honors were paid to his memory. such was the origin of the great dynasty of the ptolemies. some of the early sovereigns of the line followed in some degree the honorable example set them by the distinguished founder of it; but this example was soon lost, and was succeeded by the most extreme degeneracy and debasement. the successive sovereigns began soon to live and to reign solely for the gratification of their own sensual propensities and passions. sensuality begins sometimes with kindness, but it ends always in the most reckless and intolerable cruelty. the ptolemies became, in the end, the most abominable and terrible tyrants that the principle of absolute and irresponsible power ever produced. there was one vice in particular, a vice which they seem to have adopted from the asiatic nations of the persian empire, that resulted in the most awful consequences. this vice was incest. the law of god, proclaimed not only in the scriptures, but in the native instincts of the human soul, forbids intermarriages among those connected by close ties of consanguinity. the necessity for such a law rests on considerations which can not here be fully explained. they are considerations, however, which arise from causes inherent in the very nature of man as a social being, and which are of universal, perpetual, and insurmountable force. to guard his creatures against the deplorable consequences, both physical and moral, which result from the practice of such marriages, the great author of nature has implanted in every mind an instinctive sense of their criminality, powerful enough to give effectual warning of the danger, and so universal as to cause a distinct condemnation of them to be recorded in almost every code of written law that has ever been promulgated among mankind. the persian sovereigns were, however, above all law, and every species of incestuous marriage was practiced by them without shame. the ptolemies followed their example. one of the most striking exhibitions of the nature of incestuous domestic life which is afforded by the whole dismal panorama of pagan vice and crime, is presented in the history of the great-grandfather of the cleopatra who is the principal subject of this narrative. he was ptolemy physcon, the seventh in the line. it is necessary to give some particulars of his history and that of his family, in order to explain the circumstances under which cleopatra herself came upon the stage. the name physcon, which afterward became his historical designation, was originally given him in contempt and derision. he was very small of stature in respect to height, but his gluttony and sensuality had made him immensely corpulent in body, so that he looked more like a monster than a man. the term physcon was a greek word, which denoted opprobriously the ridiculous figure that he made. the circumstances of ptolemy physcon's accession to the throne afford not only a striking illustration of his character, but a very faithful though terrible picture of the manners and morals of the times. he had been engaged in a long and cruel war with his brother, who was king before him, in which war he had perpetrated all imaginable atrocities, when at length his brother died, leaving as his survivors his wife, who was also his sister, and a son who was yet a child. this son was properly the heir to the crown. physcon himself, being a brother, had no claim, as against a son. the name of the queen was cleopatra. this was, in fact, a very common name among the princesses of the ptolemaic line. cleopatra, besides her son, had a daughter, who was at this time a young and beautiful girl. her name was also cleopatra. she was, of course, the niece, as her mother was the sister, of physcon. the plan of cleopatra the mother, after her husband's death, was to make her son the king of egypt, and to govern herself, as regent, until he should become of age. the friends and adherents of physcon, however, formed a strong party in _his_ favor. they sent for him to come to alexandria to assert his claims to the throne. he came, and a new civil war was on the point of breaking out between the brother and sister, when at length the dispute was settled by a treaty, in which it was stipulated that physcon should marry cleopatra, and be king; but that he should make the son of cleopatra by her former husband his heir. this treaty was carried into effect so far as the celebration of the marriage with the mother was concerned, and the establishment of physcon upon the throne. but the perfidious monster, instead of keeping his faith in respect to the boy, determined to murder him; and so open and brutal were his habits of violence and cruelty, that he undertook to perpetrate the deed himself, in open day. the boy fled shrieking to the mother's arms for protection, and physcon stabbed and killed him there, exhibiting the spectacle of a newly-married husband murdering the son of his wife in her very arms! it is easy to conceive what sort of affection would exist between a husband and a wife after such transactions as these. in fact, there had been no love between them from the beginning. the marriage had been solely a political arrangement. physcon hated his wife, and had murdered her son, and then, as if to complete the exhibition of the brutal lawlessness and capriciousness of his passions, he ended with falling in love with her daughter. the beautiful girl looked upon this heartless monster, as ugly and deformed in body as he was in mind, with absolute horror. but she was wholly in his power. he compelled her, by violence, to submit to his will. he repudiated the mother, and forced the daughter to become his wife. physcon displayed the same qualities of brutal tyranny and cruelty in the treatment of his subjects that he manifested in his own domestic relations. the particulars we can not here give, but can only say that his atrocities became at length absolutely intolerable, and a revolt so formidable broke out, that he fled from the country. in fact, he barely escaped with his life, as the mob had surrounded the palace and were setting it on fire, intending to burn the tyrant himself and all the accomplices of his crimes together. physcon, however, contrived to make his escape. he fled to the island of cyprus, taking with him a certain beautiful boy, his son by the cleopatra whom he had divorced; for they had been married long enough, before the divorce, to have a son. the name of this boy was memphitis. his mother was very tenderly attached to him, and physcon took him away on this very account, to keep him as a hostage for his mother's good behavior. he fancied that, when he was gone, she might possibly attempt to resume possession of the throne. his expectations in this respect were realized. the people of alexandria rallied around cleopatra, and called upon her to take the crown. she did so, feeling, perhaps, some misgivings in respect to the danger which such a step might possibly bring upon her absent boy. she quieted herself, however, by the thought that he was in the hands of his own father, and that he could not possibly come to harm. after some little time had elapsed, and cleopatra was beginning to be well established in her possession of the supreme power at alexandria, her birth-day approached, and arrangements were made for celebrating it in the most magnificent manner. when the day arrived, the whole city was given up to festivities and rejoicing. grand entertainments were given in the palace, and games, spectacles, and plays in every variety, were exhibited and performed in all quarters of the city. cleopatra herself was enjoying a magnificent entertainment, given to the lords and ladies of the court and the officers of her army, in one of the royal palaces. [illustration: the birth-day present.] in the midst of this scene of festivity and pleasure, it was announced to the queen that a large box had arrived for her. the box was brought into the apartment. it had the appearance of containing some magnificent present, sent in at that time by some friend in honor of the occasion. the curiosity of the queen was excited to know what the mysterious coffer might contain. she ordered it to be opened; and the guests gathered around, each eager to obtain the first glimpse of the contents. the lid was removed, and a cloth beneath it was raised, when, to the unutterable horror of all who witnessed the spectacle, there was seen the head and hands of cleopatra's beautiful boy, lying among masses of human flesh, which consisted of the rest of his body cut into pieces. the head had been left entire, that the wretched mother might recognize in the pale and lifeless features the countenance of her son. physcon had sent the box to alexandria, with orders that it should be retained until the evening of the birth-day, and then presented publicly to cleopatra in the midst of the festivities of the scene. the shrieks and cries with which she filled the apartments of the palace at the first sight of the dreadful spectacle, and the agony of long-continued and inconsolable grief which followed, showed how well the cruel contrivance of the tyrant was fitted to accomplish its end. it gives us no pleasure to write, and we are sure it can give our readers no pleasure to peruse, such shocking stories of bloody cruelty as these. it is necessary, however, to a just appreciation of the character of the great subject of this history, that we should understand the nature of the domestic influences that reigned in the family from which she sprung. in fact, it is due, as a matter of simple justice to her, that we should know what these influences were, and what were the examples set before her in her early life; since the privileges and advantages which the young enjoy in their early years, and, on the other hand, the evil influences under which they suffer, are to be taken very seriously into the account when we are passing judgment upon the follies and sins into which they subsequently fall. the monster physcon lived, it is true, two or three generations before the great cleopatra; but the character of the intermediate generations, until the time of her birth, continued much the same. in fact, the cruelty, corruption, and vice which reigned in every branch of the royal family increased rather than diminished. the beautiful niece of physcon, who, at the time of her compulsory marriage with him, evinced such an aversion to the monster, had become, at the period of her husband's death, as great a monster of ambition, selfishness, and cruelty as he. she had two sons, lathyrus and alexander. physcon, when he died, left the kingdom of egypt to her by will, authorizing her to associate with her in the government whichever of these two sons she might choose. the oldest was best entitled to this privilege, by his priority of birth; but she preferred the youngest, as she thought that her own power would be more absolute in reigning in conjunction with him, since he would be more completely under her control. the leading powers, however, in alexandria, resisted this plan, and insisted on cleopatra's associating her oldest son, lathyrus, with her in the government of the realm. they compelled her to recall lathyrus from the banishment into which she had sent him, and to put him nominally upon the throne. cleopatra yielded to this necessity, but she forced her son to repudiate his wife, and to take, instead, another woman, whom she fancied she could make more subservient to her will. the mother and the son went on together for a time, lathyrus being nominally king, though her determination that she would rule, and his struggles to resist her intolerable tyranny, made their wretched household the scene of terrible and perpetual quarrels. at last cleopatra seized a number of lathyrus's servants, the eunuchs who were employed in various offices about the palace, and after wounding and mutilating them in a horrible manner, she exhibited them to the populace, saying that it was lathyrus that had inflicted the cruel injuries upon the sufferers, and calling upon them to arise and punish him for his crimes. in this and in other similar ways she awakened among the people of the court and of the city such an animosity against lathyrus, that they expelled him from the country. there followed a long series of cruel and bloody wars between the mother and the son, in the course of which each party perpetrated against the other almost every imaginable deed of atrocity and crime. alexander, the youngest son, was so afraid of his terrible mother, that he did not dare to remain in alexandria with her, but went into a sort of banishment of his own accord. he, however, finally returned to egypt. his mother immediately supposed that he was intending to disturb her possession of power, and resolved to destroy him. he became acquainted with her designs, and, grown desperate by the long-continued pressure of her intolerable tyranny, he resolved to bring the anxiety and terror in which he lived to an end by killing her. this he did, and then fled the country. lathyrus, his brother, then returned, and reigned for the rest of his days in a tolerable degree of quietness and peace. at length lathyrus died, and left the kingdom to his son, ptolemy auletes, who was the great cleopatra's father. we can not soften the picture which is exhibited to our view in the history of this celebrated family, by regarding the mother of auletes, in the masculine and merciless traits and principles which she displayed so energetically throughout her terrible career, as an exception to the general character of the princesses who appeared from time to time in the line. in ambition, selfishness, unnatural and reckless cruelty, and utter disregard of every virtuous principle and of every domestic tie, she was but the type and representative of all the rest. she had two daughters, for example, who were the consistent and worthy followers of such a mother. a passage in the lives of these sisters illustrates very forcibly the kind of sisterly affection which prevailed in the family of the ptolemies. the case was this: there were two princes of syria, a country lying northeast of the mediterranean sea, and so not very far from egypt, who, though they were brothers, were in a state of most deadly hostility to each other. one had attempted to poison the other, and afterward a war had broken out between them, and all syria was suffering from the ravages of their armies. one of the sisters, of whom we have been speaking, married one of these princes. her name was tryphena. after some time, but yet while the unnatural war was still raging between the two brothers, cleopatra, the other sister--the same cleopatra, in fact, that had been divorced from lathyrus at the instance of his mother--espoused the other brother. tryphena was exceedingly incensed against cleopatra for marrying her husband's mortal foe, and the implacable hostility and hate of the sisters was thenceforth added to that which the brothers had before exhibited, to complete the display of unnatural and parricidal passion which this shameful contest presented to the world. in fact, tryphena from this time seemed to feel a new and highly-excited interest in the contest, from her eager desire to revenge herself on her sister. she watched the progress of it, and took an active part in pressing forward the active prosecution of the war. the party of her husband, either from this or some other causes, seemed to be gaining the day. the husband of cleopatra was driven from one part of the country to another, and at length, in order to provide for the security of his wife, he left her in antioch, a large and strongly-fortified city, where he supposed that she would be safe, while he himself was engaged in prosecuting the war in other quarters where his presence seemed to be required. on learning that her sister was at antioch, tryphena urged her husband to attack the place. he accordingly advanced with a strong detachment of the army, and besieged and took the city. cleopatra would, of course, have fallen into his hands as a captive; but, to escape this fate, she fled to a temple for refuge. a temple was considered, in those days, an inviolable sanctuary. the soldiers accordingly left her there. tryphena, however, made a request that her husband would deliver the unhappy fugitive into her hands. she was determined, she said, to kill her. her husband remonstrated with her against this atrocious proposal. "it would be a wholly useless act of cruelty," said he, "to destroy her life. she can do us no possible harm in the future progress of the war, while to murder her under these circumstances will only exasperate her husband and her friends, and nerve them with new strength for the remainder of the contest. and then, besides, she has taken refuge in a temple; and if we violate that sanctuary, we shall incur, by such an act of sacrilege, the implacable displeasure of heaven. consider, too, that she is your sister, and for you to kill her would be to commit an unnatural and wholly inexcusable crime." so saying, he commanded tryphena to say no more upon the subject, for he would on no account consent that cleopatra should suffer any injury whatever. this refusal on the part of her husband to comply with her request only inflamed tryphena's insane resentment and anger the more. in fact, the earnestness with which he espoused her sister's cause, and the interest which he seemed to feel in her fate, aroused tryphena's jealousy. she believed, or pretended to believe, that her husband was influenced by a sentiment of love in so warmly defending her. the object of her hate, from being simply an enemy, became now, in her view, a rival, and she resolved that, at all hazards, she should be destroyed. she accordingly ordered a body of desperate soldiers to break into the temple and seize her. cleopatra fled in terror to the altar, and clung to it with such convulsive force that the soldiers cut her hands off before they could tear her away, and then, maddened by her resistance and the sight of blood, they stabbed her again and again upon the floor of the temple, where she fell. the appalling shrieks with which the wretched victim filled the air in the first moments of her flight and her terror, subsided, as her life ebbed away, into the most awful imprecations of the judgments of heaven upon the head of the unnatural sister whose implacable hate had destroyed her. * * * * * notwithstanding the specimens that we have thus given of the character and action of this extraordinary family, the government of this dynasty, extending, as it did, through the reigns of thirteen sovereigns and over a period of nearly three hundred years, has always been considered one of the most liberal, enlightened, and prosperous of all the governments of ancient times. we shall have something to say in the next chapter in respect to the internal condition of the country while these violent men were upon the throne. in the meantime, we will here only add, that whoever is inclined, in observing the ambition, the selfishness, the party spirit, the unworthy intrigues, and the irregularities of moral conduct, which modern rulers and statesmen sometimes exhibit to mankind in their personal and political career, to believe in a retrogression and degeneracy of national character as the world advances in age, will be very effectually undeceived by reading attentively a full history of this celebrated dynasty, and reflecting, as he reads, that the narrative presents, on the whole, a fair and honest exhibition of the general character of the men by whom, in ancient times, the world was governed. chapter iii. alexandria. it must not be imagined by the reader that the scenes of vicious indulgence, and reckless cruelty and crime, which were exhibited with such dreadful frequency, and carried to such an enormous excess in the palaces of the egyptian kings, prevailed to the same extent throughout the mass of the community during the period of their reign. the internal administration of government, and the institutions by which the industrial pursuits of the mass of the people were regulated, and peace and order preserved, and justice enforced between man and man, were all this time in the hands of men well qualified, on the whole, for the trusts committed to their charge, and in a good degree faithful in the performance of their duties; and thus the ordinary affairs of government, and the general routine of domestic and social life, went on, notwithstanding the profligacy of the kings, in a course of very tolerable peace, prosperity, and happiness. during every one of the three hundred years over which the history of the ptolemies extends, the whole length and breadth of the land of egypt exhibited, with comparatively few interruptions, one wide-spread scene of busy industry. the inundations came at their appointed season, and then regularly retired. the boundless fields which the waters had fertilized were then every where tilled. the lands were plowed; the seed was sown; the canals and water-courses, which ramified from the river in every direction over the ground, were opened or closed, as the case required, to regulate the irrigation. the inhabitants were busy, and, consequently, they were virtuous. and as the sky of egypt is seldom or never darkened by clouds and storms, the scene presented to the eye the same unchanging aspect of smiling verdure and beauty, day after day, and month after month, until the ripened grain was gathered into the store-houses, and the land was cleared for another inundation. we say that the people were virtuous because they were busy; for there is no principle of political economy more fully established than that vice in the social state is the incident and symptom of idleness. it prevails always in those classes of every great population who are either released by the possession of fixed and unchangeable wealth from the necessity, or excluded by their poverty and degradation from the advantage, of useful employment. wealth that is free, and subject to its possessor's control, so that he can, if he will, occupy himself in the management of it, while it sometimes may make individuals vicious, does not generally corrupt classes of men, for it does not make them idle. but wherever the institutions of a country are such as to create an aristocratic class, whose incomes depend on entailed estates, or on fixed and permanent annuities, so that the capital on which they live can not afford them any mental occupation, they are doomed necessarily to inaction and idleness. vicious pleasures and indulgences are, with such a class as a whole, the inevitable result; for the innocent enjoyments of man are planned and designed by the author of nature only for the intervals of rest and repose in a life of activity. they are always found wholly insufficient to satisfy one who makes pleasure the whole end and aim of his being. in the same manner, if, either from the influence of the social institutions of a country, or from the operation of natural causes which human power is unable to control, there is a class of men too low, and degraded, and miserable to be reached by the ordinary inducements to daily toil, so certain are they to grow corrupt and depraved, that degradation has become in all languages a term almost synonymous with vice. there are many exceptions, it is true, to these general laws. many active men are very wicked; and there have been frequent instances of the most exalted virtue among nobles and kings. still, as a general law, it is unquestionably true that vice is the incident of idleness; and the sphere of vice, therefore, is at the top and at the bottom of society--those being the regions in which idleness reigns. the great remedy, too, for vice is employment. to make a community virtuous, it is essential that all ranks and gradations of it, from the highest to the lowest, should have something to do. in accordance with these principles, we observe that, while the most extreme and abominable wickedness seemed to hold continual and absolute sway in the palaces of the ptolemies, and among the nobles of their courts, the working ministers of state, and the men on whom the actual governmental functions devolved, discharged their duties with wisdom and fidelity, and throughout all the ordinary ranks and gradations of society there prevailed generally a very considerable degree of industry, prosperity, and happiness. this prosperity prevailed not only in the rural districts of the delta and along the valley of the nile, but also among the merchants, and navigators, and artisans of alexandria. alexandria became, in fact, very soon after it was founded, a very great and busy city. many things conspired to make it at once a great commercial emporium. in the first place, it was the depôt of export for all the surplus grain and other agricultural produce which was raised in such abundance along the egyptian valley. this produce was brought down in boats to the upper point of the delta, where the branches of the river divided, and thence down the canopic branch to the city. the city was not, in fact, situated directly upon this branch, but upon a narrow tongue of land, at a little distance from it, near the sea. it was not easy to enter the channel directly, on account of the bars and sand-banks at its mouth, produced by the eternal conflict between the waters of the river and the surges of the sea. the water was deep, however, as alexander's engineers had discovered, at the place where the city was built, and, by establishing the port there, and then cutting a canal across to the nile, they were enabled to bring the river and the sea at once into easy communication. the produce of the valley was thus brought down the river and through the canal to the city. here immense warehouses and granaries were erected for its reception, that it might be safely preserved until the ships that came into the port were ready to take it away. these ships came from syria, from all the coasts of asia minor, from greece, and from rome. they brought the agricultural productions of their own countries, as well as articles of manufacture of various kinds; these they sold to the merchants of alexandria, and purchased the productions of egypt in return. the port of alexandria presented thus a constant picture of life and animation. merchant ships were continually coming and going, or lying at anchor in the roadstead. seamen were hoisting sails, or raising anchors, or rowing their capacious galleys through the water, singing, as they pulled, to the motion of the oars. within the city there was the same ceaseless activity. here groups of men were unloading the canal boats which had arrived from the river. there porters were transporting bales of merchandise or sacks of grain from a warehouse to a pier, or from one landing to another. the occasional parading of the king's guards, or the arrival and departure of ships of war to land or to take away bodies of armed men, were occurrences that sometimes intervened to interrupt, or as perhaps the people then would have said, to adorn this scene of useful industry; and now and then, for a brief period, these peaceful avocations would be wholly suspended and set aside by a revolt or by a civil war, waged by rival brothers against each other, or instigated by the conflicting claims of a mother and son. these interruptions, however, were comparatively few, and, in ordinary cases, not of long continuance. it was for the interest of all branches of the royal line to do as little injury as possible to the commercial and agricultural operations of the realm. in fact, it was on the prosperity of those operations that the revenues depended. the rulers were well aware of this, and so, however implacably two rival princes may have hated one another, and however desperately each party may have struggled to destroy all active combatants whom they should find in arms against them, they were both under every possible inducement to spare the private property and the lives of the peaceful population. this population, in fact, engaged thus in profitable industry, constituted, with the avails of their labors, the very estate for which the combatants were contending. seeing the subject in this light, the egyptian sovereigns, especially alexander and the earlier ptolemies, made every effort in their power to promote the commercial greatness of alexandria. they built palaces, it is true, but they also built warehouses. one of the most expensive and celebrated of all the edifices that they reared was the light-house which has been already alluded to. this light-house was a lofty tower, built of white marble. it was situated upon the island of pharos, opposite to the city, and at some distance from it. there was a sort of isthmus of shoals and sand-bars connecting the island with the shore. over these shallows a pier or causeway was built, which finally became a broad and inhabited neck. the principal part of the ancient city, however, was on the main land.[ ] the curvature of the earth requires that a light-house on a coast should have a considerable elevation, otherwise its summit would not appear above the horizon, unless the mariner were very near. to attain this elevation, the architects usually take advantage of some hill or cliff, or rocky eminence near the shore. there was, however, no opportunity to do this at pharos; for the island was, like the main land, level and low. the requisite elevation could only be attained, therefore, by the masonry of an edifice, and the blocks of marble necessary for the work had to be brought from a great distance. the alexandrian light-house was reared in the time of ptolemy philadelphus, the second monarch in the line. no pains or expense were spared in its construction. the edifice, when completed, was considered one of the seven wonders of the world. it was indebted for its fame, however, in some degree, undoubtedly to the conspicuousness of its situation, rising, as it did, at the entrance of the greatest commercial emporium of its time, and standing there, like a pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night, to attract the welcome gaze of every wandering mariner whose ship came within its horizon, and to awaken his gratitude by tendering him its guidance and dispelling his fears. the light at the top of the tower was produced by a fire, made of such combustibles as would emit the brightest flame. this fire burned slowly through the day, and then was kindled up anew when the sun went down, and was continually replenished through the night with fresh supplies of fuel. in modern times, a much more convenient and economical mode is adopted to produce the requisite illumination. a great blazing lamp burns brilliantly in the center of the lantern of the tower, and all that part of the radiation from the flame which would naturally have beamed upward, or downward, or laterally, or back toward the land, is so turned by a curious system of reflectors and polyzonal lenses, most ingeniously contrived and very exactly adjusted, as to be thrown forward in one broad and thin, but brilliant sheet of light, which shoots out where its radiance is needed, over the surface of the sea. before these inventions were perfected, far the largest portion of the light emitted by the illumination of light-house towers streamed away wastefully in landward directions, or was lost among the stars. of course, the glory of erecting such an edifice as the pharos of alexandria, and of maintaining it in the performance of its functions, was very great; the question might, however, very naturally arise whether this glory was justly due to the architect through whose scientific skill the work was actually accomplished, or to the monarch by whose power and resources the architect was sustained. the name of the architect was sostratus. he was a greek. the monarch was, as has already been stated, the second ptolemy, called commonly ptolemy philadelphus. ptolemy ordered that, in completing the tower, a marble tablet should be built into the wall, at a suitable place near the summit, and that a proper inscription should be carved upon it, with his name as the builder of the edifice conspicuous thereon. sostratus preferred inserting his own name. he accordingly made the tablet and set it in its place. he cut the inscription upon the face of it, in greek characters, with his own name as the author of the work. he did this secretly, and then covered the face of the tablet with an artificial composition, made with lime, to imitate the natural surface of the stone. on this outer surface he cut a new inscription, in which he inserted the name of the king. in process of time the lime moldered away, the king's inscription disappeared, and his own, which thenceforward continued as long as the building endured, came out to view. the pharos was said to have been four hundred feet high. it was famed throughout the world for many centuries; nothing, however, remains of it now but a heap of useless and unmeaning ruins. besides the light that beamed from the summit of this lofty tower, there was another center of radiance and illumination in ancient alexandria, which was in some respects still more conspicuous and renowned, namely, an immense library and museum established and maintained by the ptolemies. the museum, which was first established, was not, as its name might now imply, a collection of curiosities, but an institution of learning, consisting of a body of learned men, who devoted their time to philosophical and scientific pursuits. the institution was richly endowed, and magnificent buildings were erected for its use. the king who established it began immediately to make a collection of books for the use of the members of the institution. this was attended with great expense, as every book that was added to the collection required to be transcribed with a pen on parchment or papyrus, with infinite labor and care. great numbers of scribes were constantly employed upon this work at the museum. the kings who were most interested in forming this library would seize the books that were possessed by individual scholars, or that were deposited in the various cities of their dominions, and then, causing beautiful copies of them to be made by the scribes of the museum, they would retain the originals for the great alexandrian library, and give the copies to the men or the cities that had been thus despoiled. in the same manner they would borrow, as they called it, from all travelers who visited egypt, any valuable books which they might have in their possession, and, retaining the originals, give them back copies instead. in process of time the library increased to four hundred thousand volumes. there was then no longer any room in the buildings of the museum for further additions. there was, however, in another part of the city, a great temple called the serapion. this temple was a very magnificent edifice, or, rather, group of edifices, dedicated to the god serapis. the origin and history of this temple were very remarkable. the legend was this: it seems that one of the ancient and long-venerated gods of the egyptians was a deity named serapis. he had been, among other divinities, the object of egyptian adoration ages before alexandria was built or the ptolemies reigned. there was also, by a curious coincidence, a statue of the same name at a great commercial town named sinope, which was built upon the extremity of a promontory which projected from asia minor into the euxine sea.[ ] sinope was, in some sense, the alexandria of the north, being the center and seat of a great portion of the commerce of that quarter of the world. the serapis of sinope was considered as the protecting deity of seamen, and the navigators who came and went to and from the city made sacrifices to him, and offered him oblations and prayers, believing that they were, in a great measure, dependent upon some mysterious and inscrutable power which he exercised for their safety in storms. they carried the knowledge of his name, and tales of his imaginary interpositions, to all the places that they visited; and thus the fame of the god became extended, first, to all the coasts of the euxine sea, and subsequently to distant provinces and kingdoms. the serapis of sinope began to be considered every where as the tutelar god of seamen. accordingly, when the first of the ptolemies was forming his various plans for adorning and aggrandizing alexandria, he received, he said, one night, a divine intimation in a dream that he was to obtain the statue of serapis from sinope, and set it up in alexandria, in a suitable temple which he was in the mean time to erect in honor of the god. it is obvious that very great advantages to the city would result from the accomplishment of this design. in the first place, a temple to the god serapis would be a new distinction for it in the minds of the rural population, who would undoubtedly suppose that the deity honored by it was their own ancient god. then the whole maritime and nautical interest of the world, which had been accustomed to adore the god of sinope, would turn to alexandria as the great center of religious attraction, if their venerated idol could be carried and placed in a new and magnificent temple built expressly for him there. alexandria could never be the chief naval port and station of the world, unless it contained the sanctuary and shrine of the god of seamen. ptolemy sent accordingly to the king of sinope and proposed to purchase the idol. the embassage was, however, unsuccessful. the king refused to give up the god. the negotiations were continued for two years, but all in vain. at length, on account of some failure in the regular course of the seasons on that coast, there was a famine there, which became finally so severe that the people of the city were induced to consent to give up their deity to the egyptians in exchange for a supply of corn. ptolemy sent the corn and received the idol. he then built the temple, which, when finished, surpassed in grandeur and magnificence almost every sacred structure in the world. it was in this temple that the successive additions to the alexandrian library were deposited, when the apartments at the museum became full. in the end there were four hundred thousand rolls or volumes in the museum, and three hundred thousand in the serapion. the former was called the parent library, and the latter, being, as it were, the offspring of the first, was called the daughter. ptolemy philadelphus, who interested himself very greatly in collecting this library, wished to make it a complete collection of all the books in the world. he employed scholars to read and study, and travelers to make extensive tours, for the purpose of learning what books existed among all the surrounding nations; and, when he learned of their existence, he spared no pains or expense in attempting to procure either the originals themselves, or the most perfect and authentic copies of them. he sent to athens and obtained the works of the most celebrated greek historians, and then causing, as in other cases, most beautiful transcripts to be made, he sent the transcripts back to athens, and a very large sum of money with them as an equivalent for the difference of value between originals and copies in such an exchange. in the course of the inquiries which ptolemy made into the literature of the surrounding nations, in his search for accessions to his library, he heard that the jews had certain sacred writings in their temple at jerusalem, comprising a minute and extremely interesting history of their nation from the earliest periods, and also many other books of sacred prophecy and poetry. these books, which were, in fact, the hebrew scriptures of the old testament, were then wholly unknown to all nations except the jews, and among the jews were known only to priests and scholars. they were kept sacred at jerusalem. the jews would have considered them as profaned in being exhibited to the view of pagan nations. in fact, the learned men of other countries would not have been able to read them; for the jews secluded themselves so closely from the rest of mankind, that their language was, in that age, scarcely ever heard beyond the confines of judea and galilee. ptolemy very naturally thought that a copy of these sacred books would be a great acquisition to his library. they constituted, in fact, the whole literature of a nation which was, in some respects, the most extraordinary that ever existed on the globe. ptolemy conceived the idea, also, of not only adding to his library a copy of these writings in the original hebrew, but of causing a translation of them to be made into greek, so that they might easily be read by the greek and roman scholars who were drawn in great numbers to his capital by the libraries and the learned institutions which he had established there. the first thing to be effected, however, in accomplishing either of these plans, was to obtain the consent of the jewish authorities. they would probably object to giving up any copy of their sacred writings at all. there was one circumstance which led ptolemy to imagine that the jews would, at that time particularly, be averse to granting any request of such a nature coming from an egyptian king, and that was, that during certain wars which had taken place in previous reigns, a considerable number of prisoners had been taken by the egyptians, and had been brought to egypt as captives, where they had been sold to the inhabitants, and were now scattered over the land as slaves. they were employed as servile laborers in tilling the fields, or in turning enormous wheels to pump up water from the nile. the masters of these hapless bondmen conceived, like other slave-holders, that they had a right of property in their slaves. this was in some respects true, since they had bought them of the government at the close of the war for a consideration; and though they obviously derived from this circumstance no valid proprietary right or claim as against the men personally, it certainly would seem that it gave them a just claim against the government of whom they bought, in case of subsequent manumission. ptolemy or his minister, for it can not now be known who was the real actor in these transactions, determined on liberating these slaves and sending them back to their native land, as a means of propitiating the jews and inclining them to listen favorably to the request which he was about to prefer for a copy of their sacred writings. he, however, paid to those who held the captives a very liberal sum for ransom. the ancient historians, who never allow the interest of their narratives to suffer for want of a proper amplification on their part of the scale on which the deeds which they record were performed, say that the number of slaves liberated on this occasion was a hundred and twenty thousand, and the sum paid for them, as compensation to the owners, was six hundred talents, equal to six hundred thousand dollars.[ ] and yet this was only a preliminary expense to pave the way for the acquisition of a single series of books, to add to the variety of the immense collection. after the liberation and return of the captives, ptolemy sent a splendid embassage to jerusalem, with very respectful letters to the high priest, and with very magnificent presents. the embassadors were received with the highest honors. the request of ptolemy that he should be allowed to take a copy of the sacred books for his library was very readily granted. the priests caused copies to be made of all the sacred writings. these copies were executed in the most magnificent style, and were splendidly illuminated with letters of gold. the jewish government also, at ptolemy's request, designated a company of hebrew scholars, six from each tribe--men learned in both the greek and hebrew languages--to proceed to alexandria, and there, at the museum, to make a careful translation of the hebrew books into greek. as there were twelve tribes, and six translators chosen from each, there were seventy-two translators in all. they made their translation, and it was called the _septuagint_, from the latin _septuaginta duo_, which means seventy-two. although out of judea there was no feeling of reverence for these hebrew scriptures as books of divine authority, there was still a strong interest felt in them as very entertaining and curious works of history, by all the greek and roman scholars who frequented alexandria to study at the museum. copies were accordingly made of the septuagint translation, and were taken to other countries; and there, in process of time, copies of the copies were made, until, at length the work became extensively circulated throughout the whole learned world. when, finally, christianity became extended over the roman empire, the priests and monks looked with even a stronger interest than the ancient scholars had felt upon this early translation of so important a portion of the sacred scriptures. they made new copies for abbeys, monasteries, and colleges; and when, at length, the art of printing was discovered, this work was one of the first on which the magic power of typography was tried. the original manuscript made by the scribes of the seventy-two, and all the early transcripts which were made from it, have long since been lost or destroyed; but, instead of them, we have now hundreds of thousands of copies in compact printed volumes, scattered among the public and private libraries of christendom. in fact, now, after the lapse of two thousand years, a copy of ptolemy's septuagint may be obtained of any considerable bookseller in any country of the civilized world; and though it required a national embassage, and an expenditure, if the accounts are true, of more than a million of dollars, originally to obtain it, it may be procured without difficulty now by two days' wages of an ordinary laborer. besides the building of the pharos, the museum, and the temple of serapis, the early ptolemies formed and executed a great many other plans tending to the same ends which the erection of these splendid edifices was designed to secure, namely, to concentrate in alexandria all possible means of attraction, commercial, literary, and religious, so as to make the city the great center of interest, and the common resort for all mankind. they raised immense revenues for these and other purposes by taxing heavily the whole agricultural produce of the valley of the nile. the inundations, by the boundless fertility which they annually produced, supplied the royal treasuries. thus the abyssinian rains at the sources of the nile built the pharos at its mouth, and endowed the alexandrian library. the taxes laid upon the people of egypt to supply the ptolemies with funds were, in fact, so heavy, that only the bare means of subsistence were left to the mass of the agricultural population. in admiring the greatness and glory of the city, therefore, we must remember that there was a gloomy counterpart to its splendor in the very extended destitution and poverty to which the mass of the people were every where doomed. they lived in hamlets of wretched huts along the banks of the river, in order that the capital might be splendidly adorned with temples and palaces. they passed their lives in darkness and ignorance, that seven hundred thousand volumes of expensive manuscripts might be enrolled at the museum for the use of foreign philosophers and scholars. the policy of the ptolemies was, perhaps, on the whole, the best, for the general advancement and ultimate welfare of mankind, which could have been pursued in the age in which they lived and acted; but, in applauding the results which they attained, we must not wholly forget the cost which they incurred in attaining them. at the same cost, we could, at the present day, far surpass them. if the people of the united states will surrender the comforts and conveniences which they individually enjoy--if the farmers scattered in their comfortable homes on the hill-sides and plains throughout the land will give up their houses, their furniture, their carpets, their books, and the privileges of their children, and then--withholding from the produce of their annual toil only a sufficient reservation to sustain them and their families through the year, in a life like that of a beast of burden, spent in some miserable and naked hovel--send the rest to some hereditary sovereign residing upon the atlantic sea-board, that he may build with the proceeds a splendid capital, they may have an alexandria now that will infinitely exceed the ancient city of the ptolemies in splendor and renown. the nation, too, would, in such a case, pay for its metropolis the same price, precisely, that the ancient egyptians paid for theirs. the ptolemies expended the revenues which they raised by this taxation mainly in a very liberal and enlightened manner, for the accomplishment of the purposes which they had in view. the building of the pharos, the removal of the statue of serapis, and the endowment of the museum and the library were great conceptions, and they were carried into effect in the most complete and perfect manner. all the other operations which they devised and executed for the extension and aggrandizement of the city were conceived and executed in the same spirit of scientific and enlightened liberality. streets were opened; the most splendid palaces were built; docks, piers, and breakwaters were constructed, and fortresses and towers were armed and garrisoned. then every means was employed to attract to the city a great concourse from all the most highly-civilized nations then existing. the highest inducements were offered to merchants, mechanics, and artisans to make the city their abode. poets, painters, sculptors, and scholars of every nation and degree were made welcome, and every facility was afforded them for the prosecution of their various pursuits. these plans were all eminently successful. alexandria rose rapidly to the highest consideration and importance; and, at the time when cleopatra--born to preside over this scene of magnificence and splendor--came upon the stage, the city had but one rival in the world. that rival was rome. chapter iv. cleopatra's father. when the time was approaching in which cleopatra appeared upon the stage, rome was perhaps the only city that could be considered as the rival of alexandria, in the estimation of mankind, in respect to interest and attractiveness as a capital. in one respect, rome was vastly superior to the egyptian metropolis, and that was in the magnitude and extent of the military power which it wielded among the nations of the earth. alexandria ruled over egypt, and over a few of the neighboring coasts and islands; but in the course of the three centuries during which she had been acquiring her greatness and fame, the roman empire had extended itself over almost the whole civilized world. egypt had been, thus far, too remote to be directly reached; but the affairs of egypt itself became involved at length with the operations of the roman power, about the time of cleopatra's birth, in a very striking and peculiar manner; and as the consequences of the transaction were the means of turning the whole course of the queen's subsequent history, a narration of it is necessary to a proper understanding of the circumstances under which she commenced her career. in fact, it was the extension of the roman empire to the limits of egypt, and the connections which thence arose between the leading roman generals and the egyptian sovereign, which have made the story of this particular queen so much more conspicuous, as an object of interest and attention to mankind, than that of any other one of the ten cleopatras who rose successively in the same royal line. ptolemy auletes, cleopatra's father, was perhaps, in personal character, the most dissipated, degraded, and corrupt of all the sovereigns in the dynasty. he spent his whole time in vice and debauchery. the only honest accomplishment that he seemed to possess was his skill in playing upon the flute; of this he was very vain. he instituted musical contests, in which the musical performers of alexandria played for prizes and crowns; and he himself was accustomed to enter the lists with the rest as a competitor. the people of alexandria, and the world in general, considered such pursuits as these wholly unworthy the attention of the representative of so illustrious a line of sovereigns; and the abhorrence which they felt for the monarch's vices and crimes was mingled with a feeling of contempt for the meanness of his ambition. there was a doubt in respect to his title to the crown, for his birth, on the mother's side, was irregular and ignoble. instead, however, of attempting to confirm and secure his possession of power by a vigorous and prosperous administration of the government, he wholly abandoned all concern in respect to the course of public affairs; and then, to guard against the danger of being deposed, he conceived the plan of getting himself recognized at rome as one of the allies of the roman people. if this were once done, he supposed that the roman government would feel under an obligation to sustain him on his throne in the event of any threatened danger. the roman government was a sort of republic, and the two most powerful men in the state at this time were pompey and cæsar. cæsar was in the ascendency at rome at the time that ptolemy made his application for an alliance. pompey was absent in asia minor, being engaged in prosecuting a war with mithradates, a very powerful monarch, who was at that time resisting the roman power. cæsar was very deeply involved in debt, and was, moreover, very much in need of money, not only for relief from existing embarrassments, but as a means of subsequent expenditure, to enable him to accomplish certain great political schemes which he was entertaining. after many negotiations and delays, it was agreed that cæsar would exert his influence to secure an alliance between the roman people and ptolemy, on condition that ptolemy paid him the sum of six thousand talents, equal to about six millions of dollars. a part of the money, cæsar said, was for pompey. the title of ally was conferred, and ptolemy undertook to raise the money which he had promised by increasing the taxes of his kingdom. the measures, however, which he thus adopted for the purpose of making himself the more secure in his possession of the throne, proved to be the means of overthrowing him. the discontent and disaffection of his people, which had been strong and universal before, though suppressed and concealed, broke out now into open violence. that there should be laid upon them, in addition to all their other burdens, these new oppressions, heavier than those which they had endured before, and exacted for such a purpose too, was not to be endured. to be compelled to see their country sold on any terms to the roman people was sufficiently hard to bear; but to be forced to raise, themselves, and pay the price of the transfer, was absolutely intolerable. alexandria commenced a revolt. ptolemy was not a man to act decidedly against such a demonstration, or, in fact, to evince either calmness or courage in any emergency whatever. his first thought was to escape from alexandria to save his life. his second, to make the best of his way to rome, to call upon the roman people to come to the succor of their ally! ptolemy left five children behind him in his flight. the eldest was the princess berenice, who had already reached maturity. the second was the great cleopatra, the subject of this history. cleopatra was, at this time, about eleven years old. there were also two sons, but they were very young. one of them was named ptolemy. the alexandrians determined on raising berenice to the throne in her father's place, as soon as his flight was known. they thought that the sons were too young to attempt to reign in such an emergency, as it was very probable that auletes, the father, would attempt to recover his kingdom. berenice very readily accepted the honor and power which were offered to her. she established herself in her father's palace, and began her reign in great magnificence and splendor. in process of time she thought that her position would be strengthened by a marriage with a royal prince from some neighboring realm. she first sent embassadors to make proposals to a prince of syria named antiochus. the embassadors came back, bringing word that antiochus was dead, but that he had a brother named seleucus, upon whom the succession fell. berenice then sent them back to make the same offers to him. he accepted the proposals, came to egypt, and he and berenice were married. after trying him for a while, berenice found that, for some reason or other, she did not like him as a husband, and, accordingly, she caused him to be strangled. at length, after various other intrigues and much secret management, berenice succeeded in a second negotiation, and married a prince, or a pretended prince, from some country of asia minor, whose name was archelaus. she was better pleased with this second husband than she had been with the first, and she began, at last, to feel somewhat settled and established on her throne, and to be prepared, as she thought, to offer effectual resistance to her father in case he should ever attempt to return. it was in the midst of the scenes, and surrounded by the influences which might be expected to prevail in the families of such a father and such a sister, that cleopatra spent those years of life in which the character is formed. during all these revolutions, and exposed to all these exhibitions of licentious wickedness, and of unnatural cruelty and crime, she was growing up in the royal palaces a spirited and beautiful, but indulged and neglected child. in the mean time, auletes, the father, went on toward rome. so far as his character and his story were known among the surrounding nations, he was the object of universal obloquy, both on account of his previous career of degrading vice, and now, still more, for this ignoble flight from the difficulties in which his vices and crimes had involved him. he stopped, on the way, at the island of rhodes. it happened that cato, the great roman philosopher and general, was at rhodes at this time. cato was a man of stern, unbending virtue, and of great influence at that period in public affairs. ptolemy sent a messenger to inform cato of his arrival, supposing, of course, that the roman general would hasten, on hearing of the fact, to pay his respects to so great a personage as he, a king of egypt--a ptolemy--though suffering under a temporary reverse of fortune. cato directed the messenger to reply that, so far as he was aware, he had no particular business with ptolemy. "say, however, to the king," he added, "that, if he has any business with me, he may call and see me, if he pleases." ptolemy was obliged to suppress his resentment and submit. he thought it very essential to the success of his plans that he should see cato, and secure, if possible, his interest and co-operation; and he consequently made preparations for paying, instead of receiving, the visit, intending to go in the greatest royal state that he could command. he accordingly appeared at cato's lodgings on the following day, magnificently dressed, and accompanied by many attendants. cato, who was dressed in the plainest and most simple manner, and whose apartment was furnished in a style corresponding with the severity of his character, did not even rise when the king entered the room. he simply pointed with his hand, and bade the visitor take a seat. ptolemy began to make a statement of his case, with a view to obtaining cato's influence with the roman people to induce them to interpose in his behalf. cato, however, far from evincing any disposition to espouse his visitor's cause, censured him, in the plainest terms, for having abandoned his proper position in his own kingdom, to go and make himself a victim and a prey for the insatiable avarice of the roman leaders. "you can do nothing at rome," he said, "but by the influence of bribes; and all the resources of egypt will not be enough to satisfy the roman greediness for money." he concluded by recommending him to go back to alexandria, and rely for his hopes of extrication from the difficulties which surrounded him on the exercise of his own energy and resolution there. ptolemy was greatly abashed at this rebuff, but, on consultation with his attendants and followers, it was decided to be too late now to return. the whole party accordingly re-embarked on board their galleys, and pursued their way to rome. ptolemy found, on his arrival at the city, that cæsar was absent in gaul, while pompey, on the other hand, who had returned victorious from his campaigns against mithradates, was now the great leader of influence and power at the capitol. this change of circumstances was not, however, particularly unfavorable; for ptolemy was on friendly terms with pompey, as he had been with cæsar. he had assisted him in his wars with mithradates by sending him a squadron of horse, in pursuance of his policy of cultivating friendly relations with the roman people by every means in his power. besides, pompey had received a part of the money which ptolemy had paid to cæsar as the price of the roman alliance, and was to receive his share of the rest in case ptolemy should ever be restored. pompey was accordingly interested in favoring the royal fugitive's cause. he received him in his palace, entertained him in magnificent style, and took immediate measures for bringing his cause before the roman senate, urging upon that body the adoption of immediate and vigorous measures for effecting his restoration, as an ally whom they were bound to protect against his rebellious subjects. there was at first some opposition in the roman senate against espousing the cause of such a man, but it was soon put down, being overpowered in part by pompey's authority, and in part silenced by ptolemy's promises and bribes. the senate determined to restore the king to his throne, and began to make arrangements for carrying the measure into effect. the roman provinces nearest to egypt were cilicia and syria, countries situated on the eastern and northeastern coast of the mediterranean sea, north of judea. the forces stationed in these provinces would be, of course, the most convenient for furnishing the necessary troops for the expedition. the province of cilicia was under the command of the consul lentulus. lentulus was at this time at rome; he had repaired to the capital for some temporary purpose, leaving his province and the troops stationed there under the command, for the time, of a sort of lieutenant general named gabinius. it was concluded that this lentulus, with his syrian forces, should undertake the task of reinstating ptolemy on his throne. while these plans and arrangements were yet immature, a circumstance occurred which threatened, for a time, wholly to defeat them. it seems that when cleopatra's father first left egypt, he had caused a report to be circulated there that he had been killed in the revolt. the object of this stratagem was to cover and conceal his flight. the government of berenice soon discovered the truth, and learned that the fugitive had gone in the direction of rome. they immediately inferred that he was going to appeal to the roman people for aid, and they determined that, if that were the case, the roman people, before deciding in his favor, should have the opportunity to hear their side of the story as well as his. they accordingly made preparations at once for sending a very imposing embassage to rome. the deputation consisted of more than a hundred persons. the object of berenice's government in sending so large a number was not only to evince their respect for the roman people, and their sense of the magnitude of the question at issue, but also to guard against any efforts that ptolemy might make to intercept the embassage on the way, or to buy off the members of it by bribes. the number, however, large as it was, proved insufficient to accomplish this purpose. the whole roman world was at this time in such a condition of disorder and violence, in the hands of the desperate and reckless military leaders who then bore sway, that there were every where abundant facilities for the commission of any conceivable crime. ptolemy contrived, with the assistance of the fierce partisans who had espoused his cause, and who were deeply interested in his success on account of the rewards which were promised them, to waylay and destroy a large proportion of this company before they reached rome. some were assassinated; some were poisoned; some were tampered with and bought off by bribes. a small remnant reached rome; but they were so intimidated by the dangers which surrounded them, that they did not dare to take any public action in respect to the business which had been committed to their charge. ptolemy began to congratulate himself on having completely circumvented his daughter in her efforts to protect herself against his designs. instead of that, however, it soon proved that the effect of this atrocious treachery was exactly the contrary of what its perpetrators had expected. the knowledge of the facts became gradually extended among the people of rome, and it awakened a universal indignation. the party who had been originally opposed to ptolemy's cause seized the opportunity to renew their opposition; and they gained so much strength from the general odium which ptolemy's crimes had awakened, that pompey found it almost impossible to sustain his cause. at length the party opposed to ptolemy found, or pretended to find, in certain sacred books, called the sibylline oracles, which were kept in the custody of the priests, and were supposed to contain prophetic intimations of the will of heaven in respect to the conduct of public affairs, the following passage: "_if a king of egypt should apply to you for aid, treat him in a friendly manner, but do not furnish him with troops; for if you do, you will incur great danger._" this made new difficulty for ptolemy's friends. they attempted, at first, to evade this inspired injunction by denying the reality of it. there was no such passage to be found, they said. it was all an invention of their enemies. this point seems to have been overruled, and then they attempted to give the passage some other than the obvious interpretation. finally, they maintained that, although it prohibited their furnishing ptolemy himself with troops, it did not forbid their sending an armed force into egypt under leaders of their own. _that_ they could certainly do; and then, when the rebellion was suppressed, and berenice's government overthrown, they could invite ptolemy to return to his kingdom and resume his crown in a peaceful manner. this, they alleged, would not be "furnishing him with troops," and, of course, would not be disobeying the oracle. these attempts to evade the direction of the oracle on the part of ptolemy's friends, only made the debates and dissensions between them and his enemies more violent than ever. pompey made every effort in his power to aid ptolemy's cause; but lentulus, after long hesitation and delay, decided that it would not be safe for him to embark in it. at length, however, gabinius, the lieutenant who commanded in syria, was induced to undertake the enterprise. on certain promises which he received from ptolemy, to be performed in case he succeeded, and with a certain encouragement, not very legal or regular, which pompey gave him, in respect to the employment of the roman troops under his command, he resolved to march to egypt. his route, of course, would lay along the shores of the mediterranean sea, and through the desert, to pelusium, which has already been mentioned as the frontier town on this side of egypt. from pelusium he was to march through the heart of the delta to alexandria, and, if successful in his invasion, overthrow the government of berenice and archelaus, and then, inviting ptolemy to return, reinstate him on the throne. in the prosecution of this dangerous enterprise, gabinius relied strongly on the assistance of a very remarkable man, then his second in command, who afterward acted a very important part in the subsequent history of cleopatra. his name was mark antony. antony was born in rome, of a very distinguished family, but his father died when he was very young, and being left subsequently much to himself, he became a very wild and dissolute young man. he wasted the property which his father had left him in folly and vice; and then going on desperately in the same career, he soon incurred enormous debts, and involved himself, in consequence, in inextricable difficulties. his creditors continually harassed him with importunities for money, and with suits at law to compel payments which he had no means of making. he was likewise incessantly pursued by the hostility of the many enemies that he had made in the city by his violence and his crimes. at length he absconded, and went to greece. here gabinius, when on his way to syria, met him, and invited him to join his army rather than to remain where he was in idleness and destitution. antony, who was as proud and lofty in spirit as he was degraded in morals and condition, refused to do this unless gabinius would give him a command. gabinius saw in the daring and reckless energy which antony manifested the indications of the class of qualities which in those days made a successful soldier, and acceded to his terms. he gave him the command of his cavalry. antony distinguished himself in the syrian campaigns that followed, and was now full of eagerness to engage in this egyptian enterprise. in fact, it was mainly his zeal and enthusiasm to embark in the undertaking which was the means of deciding gabinius to consent to ptolemy's proposals. the danger and difficulty which they considered as most to be apprehended in the whole expedition was the getting across the desert to pelusium. in fact, the great protection of egypt had always been her isolation. the trackless and desolate sands, being wholly destitute of water, and utterly void, could be traversed, even by a caravan of peaceful travelers, only with great difficulty and danger. for an army to attempt to cross them, exposed, as the troops would necessarily be, to the assaults of enemies who might advance to meet them on the way, and sure of encountering a terrible opposition from fresh and vigorous bands when they should arrive--wayworn and exhausted by the physical hardships of the way--at the borders of the inhabited country, was a desperate undertaking. many instances occurred in ancient times in which vast bodies of troops, in attempting marches over the deserts by which egypt was surrounded, were wholly destroyed by famine or thirst, or overwhelmed by storms of sand.[ ] these difficulties and dangers, however, did not at all intimidate mark antony. the anticipation, in fact, of the glory of surmounting them was one of the main inducements which led him to embark in the enterprise. the perils of the desert constituted one of the charms which made the expedition so attractive. he placed himself, therefore, at the head of his troop of cavalry, and set off across the sands in advance of gabinius, to take pelusium, in order thus to open a way for the main body of the army into egypt. ptolemy accompanied antony. gabinius was to follow. with all his faults, to call them by no severer name, mark antony possessed certain great excellences of character. he was ardent, but then he was cool, collected, and sagacious; and there was a certain frank and manly generosity continually evincing itself in his conduct and character which made him a great favorite among his men. he was at this time about twenty-eight years old, of a tall and manly form, and of an expressive and intellectual cast of countenance. his forehead was high, his nose aquiline, and his eyes full of vivacity and life. he was accustomed to dress in a very plain and careless manner, and he assumed an air of the utmost familiarity and freedom in his intercourse with his soldiers. he would join them in their sports, joke with them, and good-naturedly receive their jokes in return; and take his meals, standing with them around their rude tables, in the open field. such habits of intercourse with his men in a commander of ordinary character would have been fatal to his ascendency over them; but in mark antony's case, these frank and familiar manners seemed only to make the military genius and the intellectual power which he possessed the more conspicuous and the more universally admired. antony conducted his troop of horsemen across the desert in a very safe and speedy manner, and arrived before pelusium. the city was not prepared to resist him. it surrendered at once, and the whole garrison fell into his hands as prisoners of war. ptolemy demanded that they should all be immediately killed. they were rebels, he said, and, as such, ought to be put to death. antony, however, as might have been expected from his character, absolutely refused to allow of any such barbarity. ptolemy, since the power was not yet in his hands, was compelled to submit, and to postpone gratifying the spirit of vengeance which had so long been slumbering in his breast to a future day. he could the more patiently submit to this necessity, since it appeared that the day of his complete and final triumph over his daughter and all her adherents was now very nigh at hand. [illustration: antony crossing the desert.] in fact, berenice and her government, when they heard of the arrival of antony and ptolemy at pelusium, of the fall of that city, and of the approach of gabinius with an overwhelming force of roman soldiers, were struck with dismay. archelaus, the husband of berenice, had been, in former years, a personal friend of antony's. antony considered, in fact, that they were friends still, though required by what the historian calls their duty to fight each other for the possession of the kingdom. the government of berenice raised an army. archelaus took command of it, and advanced to meet the enemy. in the mean time, gabinius arrived with the main body of the roman troops, and commenced his march, in conjunction with antony, toward the capital. as they were obliged to make a circuit to the southward, in order to avoid the inlets and lagoons which, on the northern coast of egypt, penetrate for some distance into the land, their course led them through the heart of the delta. many battles were fought, the romans every where gaining the victory. the egyptian soldiers were, in fact, discontented and mutinous, perhaps, in part, because they considered the government on the side of which they were compelled to engage as, after all, a usurpation. at length a great final battle was fought, which settled the controversy. archelaus was slain upon the field, and berenice was taken prisoner; their government was wholly overthrown, and the way was opened for the march of the roman armies to alexandria. mark antony, when judged by our standards, was certainly, as well as ptolemy, a depraved and vicious man; but his depravity was of a very different type from that of cleopatra's father. the difference in the men, in one respect, was very clearly evinced by the objects toward which their interest and attention were respectively turned after this great battle. while the contest had been going on, the king and queen of egypt, archelaus and berenice, were, of course, in the view both of antony and ptolemy, the two most conspicuous personages in the army of their enemies; and while antony would naturally watch with the greatest interest the fate of his friend, the king, ptolemy, would as naturally follow with the highest concern the destiny of his daughter. accordingly, when the battle was over, while the mind of ptolemy might, as we should naturally expect, be chiefly occupied by the fact that his _daughter_ was made a captive, antony's, we might suppose, would be engrossed by the tidings that his _friend_ had been slain. the one rejoiced and the other mourned. antony sought for the body of his friend on the field of battle, and when it was found, he gave himself wholly to the work of providing for it a most magnificent burial. he seemed, at the funeral, to lament the death of his ancient comrade with real and unaffected grief. ptolemy, on the other hand, was overwhelmed with joy at finding his daughter his captive. the long-wished-for hour for the gratification of his revenge had come at last, and the first use which he made of his power when he was put in possession of it at alexandria was to order his daughter to be beheaded. chapter v. accession to the throne. at the time when the unnatural quarrel between cleopatra's father and her sister was working its way toward its dreadful termination, as related in the last chapter, she herself was residing at the royal palace in alexandria, a blooming and beautiful girl of about fifteen. fortunately for her, she was too young to take any active part personally in the contention. her two brothers were still younger than herself. they all three remained, therefore, in the royal palaces, quiet spectators of the revolution, without being either benefited or injured by it. it is singular that the name of both the boys was ptolemy. the excitement in the city of alexandria was intense and universal when the roman army entered it to reinstate cleopatra's father upon his throne. a very large portion of the inhabitants were pleased with having the former king restored. in fact, it appears, by a retrospect of the history of kings, that when a legitimate hereditary sovereign or dynasty is deposed and expelled by a rebellious population, no matter how intolerable may have been the tyranny, or how atrocious the crimes by which the patience of the subject was exhausted, the lapse of a very few years is ordinarily sufficient to produce a very general readiness to acquiesce in a restoration; and in this particular instance there had been no such superiority in the government of berenice, during the period while her power continued, over that of her father, which she had displaced, as to make this case an exception to the general rule. the mass of the people, therefore--all those, especially, who had taken no active part in berenice's government--were ready to welcome ptolemy back to his capital. those who had taken such a part were all summarily executed by ptolemy's orders. there was, of course, a great excitement throughout the city on the arrival of the roman army. all the foreign influence and power which had been exercised in egypt thus far, and almost all the officers, whether civil or military, had been greek. the coming of the romans was the introduction of a new element of interest to add to the endless variety of excitements which animated the capital. the restoration of ptolemy was celebrated with games, spectacles, and festivities of every kind, and, of course, next to the king himself, the chief center of interest and attraction in all these public rejoicings would be the distinguished foreign generals by whose instrumentality the end had been gained. mark antony was a special object of public regard and admiration at the time. his eccentric manners, his frank and honest air, his roman simplicity of dress and demeanor, made him conspicuous; and his interposition to save the lives of the captured garrison of pelusium, and the interest which he took in rendering such distinguished funeral honors to the enemy whom his army had slain in battle, impressed the people with the idea of a certain nobleness and magnanimity in his character, which, in spite of his faults, made him an object of general admiration and applause. the very faults of such a man assume often, in the eyes of the world, the guise and semblance of virtues. for example, it is related of antony that, at one time in the course of his life, having a desire to make a present of some kind to a certain person, in requital for a favor which he had received from him, he ordered his treasurer to send a sum of money to his friend--and named for the sum to be sent an amount considerably greater than was really required under the circumstances of the case--acting thus, as he often did, under the influence of a blind and uncalculating generosity. the treasurer, more prudent than his master, wished to reduce the amount, but he did not dare directly to propose a reduction; so he counted out the money, and laid it in a pile in a place where antony was to pass, thinking that when antony saw the amount, he would perceive that it was too great. antony, in passing by, asked what money that was. the treasurer said that it was the sum that he had ordered to be sent as a present to such a person, naming the individual intended. antony was quick to perceive the object of the treasurer's maneuver. he immediately replied, "ah! is that all? i thought the sum i named would make a better appearance than that; send him double the amount." to determine, under such circumstances as these, to double an extravagance merely for the purpose of thwarting the honest attempt of a faithful servant to diminish it, made, too, in so cautious and delicate a way, is most certainly a fault. but it is one of those faults for which the world, in all ages, will persist in admiring and praising the perpetrator. in a word, antony became the object of general attention and favor during his continuance at alexandria. whether he particularly attracted cleopatra's attention at this time or not does not appear. she, however, strongly attracted _his_. he admired her blooming beauty, her sprightliness and wit, and her various accomplishments. she was still, however, so young--being but fifteen years of age, while antony was nearly thirty--that she probably made no very serious impression upon him. a short time after this, antony went back to rome, and did not see cleopatra again for many years. when the two roman generals went away from alexandria, they left a considerable portion of the army behind them, under ptolemy's command, to aid him in keeping possession of his throne. antony returned to rome. he had acquired great renown by his march across the desert, and by the successful accomplishment of the invasion of egypt and the restoration of ptolemy. his funds, too, were replenished by the vast sums paid to him and to gabinius by ptolemy. the amount which ptolemy is said to have agreed to pay as the price of his restoration was two thousand talents--equal to ten millions of dollars--a sum which shows on how great a scale the operations of this celebrated campaign were conducted. ptolemy raised a large portion of the money required for his payments by confiscating the estates belonging to those friends of berenice's government whom he ordered to be slain. it was said, in fact, that the numbers were very much increased of those that were condemned to die, by ptolemy's standing in such urgent need of their property to meet his obligations. antony, through the results of this campaign, found himself suddenly raised from the position of a disgraced and homeless fugitive to that of one of the most wealthy and renowned, and, consequently, one of the most powerful personages in rome. the great civil war broke out about this time between cæsar and pompey. antony espoused the cause of cæsar. in the mean time, while the civil war between cæsar and pompey was raging, ptolemy succeeded in maintaining his seat on the throne, by the aid of the roman soldiers whom antony and gabinius had left him, for about three years. when he found himself drawing toward the close of life, the question arose to his mind to whom he should leave his kingdom. cleopatra was the oldest child, and she was a princess of great promise, both in respect to mental endowments and personal charms. her brothers were considerably younger than she. the claim of a son, though younger, seemed to be naturally stronger than that of a daughter; but the commanding talents and rising influence of cleopatra appeared to make it doubtful whether it would be safe to pass her by. the father settled the question in the way in which such difficulties were usually surmounted in the ptolemy family. he ordained that cleopatra should marry the oldest of her brothers, and that they two should jointly occupy the throne. adhering also, still, to the idea of the alliance of egypt with rome, which had been the leading principle of the whole policy of his reign, he solemnly committed the execution of his will and the guardianship of his children, by a provision of the instrument itself, to the roman senate. the senate accepted the appointment, and appointed pompey as the agent, on their part, to perform the duties of the trust. the attention of pompey was, immediately after that time, too much engrossed by the civil war waged between himself and cæsar, to take any active steps in respect to the duties of his appointment. it seemed, however, that none were necessary, for all parties in alexandria appeared disposed, after the death of the king, to acquiesce in the arrangements which he had made, and to join in carrying them into effect. cleopatra was married to her brother--yet, it is true, only a boy. he was about ten years old. she was herself about eighteen. they were both too young to govern; they could only reign. the affairs of the kingdom were, accordingly, conducted by two ministers whom their father had designated. these ministers were pothinus, a eunuch, who was a sort of secretary of state, and achillas, the commander-in-chief of the armies. thus, though cleopatra, by these events, became nominally a queen, her real accession to the throne was not yet accomplished. there were still many difficulties and dangers to be passed through, before the period arrived when she became really a sovereign. she did not, herself, make any immediate attempt to hasten this period, but seems to have acquiesced, on the other hand, very quietly, for a time, in the arrangements which her father had made. pothinus was a eunuch. he had been, for a long time, an officer of government under ptolemy, the father. he was a proud, ambitious, and domineering man, determined to rule, and very unscrupulous in respect to the means which he adopted to accomplish his ends. he had been accustomed to regard cleopatra as a mere child. now that she was queen, he was very unwilling that the real power should pass into her hands. the jealousy and ill will which he felt toward her increased rapidly as he found, in the course of the first two or three years after her father's death, that she was advancing rapidly in strength of character, and in the influence and ascendency which she was acquiring over all around her. her beauty, her accomplishments, and a certain indescribable charm which pervaded all her demeanor, combined to give her great personal power. but, while these things awakened in other minds feelings of interest in cleopatra and attachment to her, they only increased the jealousy and envy of pothinus. cleopatra was becoming his rival. he endeavored to thwart and circumvent her. he acted toward her in a haughty and overbearing manner, in order to keep her down to what he considered her proper place as his ward; for he was yet the guardian both of cleopatra and her husband, and the regent of the realm. cleopatra had a great deal of what is sometimes called spirit, and her resentment was aroused by this treatment. pothinus took pains to enlist her young husband, ptolemy, on his side, as the quarrel advanced. ptolemy was younger, and of a character much less marked and decided than cleopatra. pothinus saw that he could maintain control over him much more easily and for a much longer time than over cleopatra. he contrived to awaken the young ptolemy's jealousy of his wife's rising influence, and to induce him to join in efforts to thwart and counteract it. these attempts to turn her husband against her only aroused cleopatra's resentment the more. hers was not a spirit to be coerced. the palace was filled with the dissensions of the rivals. pothinus and ptolemy began to take measures for securing the army on their side. an open rupture finally ensued, and cleopatra was expelled from the kingdom. she went to syria. syria was the nearest place of refuge, and then, besides, it was the country from which the aid had been furnished by which her father had been restored to the throne when he had been expelled, in a similar manner, many years before. her father, it is true, had gone first to rome; but the succors which he had negotiated for had been sent from syria. cleopatra hoped to obtain the same assistance by going directly there. nor was she disappointed. she obtained an army, and commenced her march toward egypt, following the same track which antony and gabinius had pursued in coming to reinstate her father. pothinus raised an army and went forth to meet her. he took achillas as the commander of the troops, and the young ptolemy as the nominal sovereign; while he, as the young king's guardian and prime minister, exercised the real power. the troops of pothinus advanced to pelusium. here they met the forces of cleopatra coming from the east. the armies encamped not very far from each other, and both sides began to prepare for battle. the battle, however, was not fought. it was prevented by the occurrence of certain great and unforeseen events which at this crisis suddenly burst upon the scene of egyptian history, and turned the whole current of affairs into new and unexpected channels. the breaking out of the civil war between the great roman generals cæsar and pompey, and their respective partisans, has already been mentioned as having occurred soon after the death of cleopatra's father, and as having prevented pompey from undertaking the office of executor of the will. this war had been raging ever since that time with terrible fury. its distant thundering had been heard even in egypt, but it was too remote to awaken there any special alarm. the immense armies of these two mighty conquerors had moved slowly--like two ferocious birds of prey, flying through the air, and fighting as they fly--across italy into greece, and from greece, through macedon, into thessaly, contending in dreadful struggles with each other as they advanced, and trampling down and destroying every thing in their way. at length a great final battle had been fought at pharsalia. pompey had been totally defeated. he had fled to the sea-shore, and there, with a few ships and a small number of followers, he had pushed out upon the mediterranean, not knowing whither to fly, and overwhelmed with wretchedness and despair. cæsar followed him in eager pursuit. he had a small fleet of galleys with him, on board of which he had embarked two or three thousand men. this was a force suitable, perhaps, for the pursuit of a fugitive, but wholly insufficient for any other design. pompey thought of ptolemy. he remembered the efforts which he himself had made for the cause of ptolemy auletes, at rome, and the success of those efforts in securing that monarch's restoration--an event through which alone the young ptolemy had been enabled to attain the crown. he came, therefore, to pelusium, and, anchoring his little fleet off the shore, sent to the land to ask ptolemy to receive and protect him. pothinus, who was really the commander in ptolemy's army, made answer to this application that pompey should be received and protected, and that he would send out a boat to bring him to the shore. pompey felt some misgivings in respect to this proffered hospitality, but he finally concluded to go to the shore in the boat which pothinus sent for him. as soon as he landed, the egyptians, by pothinus's orders, stabbed and beheaded him on the sand. pothinus and his council had decided that this would be the safest course. if they were to receive pompey, they reasoned, cæsar would be made their enemy; if they refused to receive him, pompey himself would be offended, and they did not know which of the two it would be safe to displease; for they did not know in what way, if both the generals were to be allowed to live, the war would ultimately end. "but by killing pompey," they said, "we shall be sure to please cæsar, and pompey himself will _lie still_." in the mean time, cæsar, not knowing to what part of egypt pompey had fled, pressed on directly to alexandria. he exposed himself to great danger in so doing, for the forces under his command were not sufficient to protect him in case of his becoming involved in difficulties with the authorities there. nor could he, when once arrived on the egyptian coast, easily go away again; for, at the season of the year in which these events occurred, there was a periodical wind which blew steadily toward that part of the coast, and, while it made it very easy for a fleet of ships to go to alexandria, rendered it almost impossible for them to return. cæsar was very little accustomed to shrink from danger in any of his enterprises and plans, though still he was usually prudent and circumspect. in this instance, however, his ardent interest in the pursuit of pompey overruled all considerations of personal safety. he arrived at alexandria, but he found that pompey was not there. he anchored his vessels in the port, landed his troops, and established himself in the city. these two events, the assassination of one of the great roman generals on the eastern extremity of the coast, and the arrival of the other, at the same moment, at alexandria, on the western, burst suddenly upon egypt together, like simultaneous claps of thunder. the tidings struck the whole country with astonishment, and immediately engrossed universal attention. at the camps both of cleopatra and ptolemy, at pelusium, all was excitement and wonder. instead of thinking of a battle, both parties were wholly occupied in speculating on the results which were likely to accrue, to one side or to the other, under the totally new and unexpected aspect which public affairs had assumed. of course the thoughts of all were turned toward alexandria. pothinus immediately proceeded to the city, taking with him the young king. achillas, too, either accompanied them, or followed soon afterward. they carried with them the head of pompey, which they had cut off on the shore where they had killed him, and also a seal which they took from his finger. when they arrived at alexandria, they sent the head, wrapped up in a cloth, and also the seal, as presents to cæsar. accustomed as they were to the brutal deeds and heartless cruelties of the ptolemies, they supposed that cæsar would exult at the spectacle of the dissevered and ghastly head of his great rival and enemy. instead of this, he was shocked and displeased, and ordered the head to be buried with the most solemn and imposing funeral ceremonies. he, however, accepted and kept the seal. the device engraved upon it was a lion holding a sword in his paw--a fit emblem of the characters of the men, who, though in many respects magnanimous and just, had filled the whole world with the terror of their quarrels. the army of ptolemy, while he himself and his immediate counselors went to alexandria, was left at pelusium, under the command of other officers, to watch cleopatra. cleopatra herself would have been pleased, also, to repair to alexandria and appeal to cæsar, if it had been in her power to do so; but she was beyond the confines of the country, with a powerful army of her enemies ready to intercept her on any attempt to enter or pass through it. she remained, therefore, at pelusium, uncertain what to do. in the mean time, cæsar soon found himself in a somewhat embarrassing situation at alexandria. he had been accustomed, for many years, to the possession and the exercise of the most absolute and despotic power, wherever he might be; and now that pompey, his great rival, was dead, he considered himself the monarch and master of the world. he had not, however, at alexandria, any means sufficient to maintain and enforce such pretensions, and yet he was not of a spirit to abate, on that account, in the slightest degree, the advancing of them. he established himself in the palaces of alexandria as if he were himself the king. he moved, in state, through the streets of the city, at the head of his guards, and displaying the customary emblems of supreme authority used at rome. he claimed the six thousand talents which ptolemy auletes had formerly promised him for procuring a treaty of alliance with rome, and he called upon pothinus to pay the balance due. he said, moreover, that by the will of auletes the roman people had been made the executor; and that it devolved upon him as the roman consul, and, consequently, the representative of the roman people, to assume that trust, and in the discharge of it to settle the dispute between ptolemy and cleopatra; and he called upon ptolemy to prepare and lay before him a statement of his claims, and the grounds on which he maintained his right to the throne to the exclusion of cleopatra. on the other hand, pothinus, who had been as little accustomed to acknowledge a superior as cæsar, though his supremacy and domination had been exercised on a somewhat humbler scale, was obstinate and pertinacious in resisting all these demands, though the means and methods which he resorted to were of a character corresponding to his weak and ignoble mind. he fomented quarrels in the streets between the alexandrian populace and cæsar's soldiers. he thought that, as the number of troops under cæsar's command in the city, and of vessels in the port, was small, he could tease and worry the romans with impunity, though he had not the courage openly to attack them. he pretended to be a friend, or, at least, not an enemy, and yet he conducted toward them in an overbearing and insolent manner. he had agreed to make arrangements for supplying them with food, and he did this by procuring damaged provisions of a most wretched quality; and when the soldiers remonstrated, he said to them, that they who lived at other people's cost had no right to complain of their fare. he caused wooden and earthen vessels to be used in the palace, and said, in explanation, that he had been compelled to sell all the gold and silver plate of the royal household to meet the exactions of cæsar. he busied himself, too, about the city, in endeavoring to excite odium against cæsar's proposal to hear and decide the question at issue between cleopatra and ptolemy. ptolemy was a sovereign, he said, and was not amenable to any foreign power whatever. thus, without the courage or the energy to attempt any open, manly, and effectual system of hostility, he contented himself with making all the difficulty in his power, by urging an incessant pressure of petty, vexatious, and provoking, but useless annoyances. cæsar's demands may have been unjust, but they were bold, manly, and undisguised. the eunuch may have been right in resisting them; but the mode was so mean and contemptible, that mankind have always taken part with cæsar in the sentiments which they have formed as spectators of the contest. with the very small force which cæsar had at his command, and shut up as he was in the midst of a very great and powerful city, in which both the garrison and the population were growing more and more hostile to him every day, he soon found his situation was beginning to be attended with very serious danger. he could not retire from the scene. he probably would not have retired if he could have done so. he remained, therefore, in the city, conducting all the time with prudence and circumspection, but yet maintaining, as at first, the same air of confident self-possession and superiority which always characterized his demeanor. he, however, dispatched a messenger forthwith into syria, the nearest country under the roman sway, with orders that several legions which were posted there should be embarked and forwarded to alexandria with the utmost possible celerity. chapter vi. cleopatra and cÆsar. in the mean time, while the events related in the last chapter were taking place at alexandria, cleopatra remained anxious and uneasy in her camp, quite uncertain, for a time, what it was best for her to do. she wished to be at alexandria. she knew very well that cæsar's power in controlling the course of affairs in egypt would necessarily be supreme. she was, of course, very earnest in her desire to be able to present her cause before him. as it was, ptolemy and pothinus were in communication with the arbiter, and, for aught she knew, assiduously cultivating his favor, while she was far away, her cause unheard, her wrongs unknown, and perhaps even her existence forgotten. of course, under such circumstances, she was very earnest to get to alexandria. but how to accomplish this purpose was a source of great perplexity. she could not march thither at the head of an army, for the army of the king was strongly intrenched at pelusium, and effectually barred the way. she could not attempt to pass alone, or with few attendants, through the country, for every town and village was occupied with garrisons and officers under the orders of pothinus, and she would be certainly intercepted. she had no fleet, and could not, therefore, make the passage by sea. besides, even if she could by any means reach the gates of alexandria, how was she to pass safely through the streets of the city to the palace where cæsar resided, since the city, except in cæsar's quarters, was wholly in the hands of pothinus's government? the difficulties in the way of accomplishing her object seemed thus almost insurmountable. she was, however, resolved to make the attempt. she sent a message to cæsar, asking permission to appear before him and plead her own cause. cæsar replied, urging her by all means to come. she took a single boat, and with the smallest number of attendants possible, made her way along the coast to alexandria. the man on whom she principally relied in this hazardous expedition was a domestic named apollodorus. she had, however, some other attendants besides. when the party reached alexandria, they waited until night, and then advanced to the foot of the walls of the citadel. here apollodorus rolled the queen up in a piece of carpeting, and, covering the whole package with a cloth, he tied it with a thong, so as to give it the appearance of a bale of ordinary merchandise, and then throwing the load across his shoulder, he advanced into the city. cleopatra was at this time about twenty-one years of age, but she was of a slender and graceful form, and the burden was, consequently, not very heavy. apollodorus came to the gates of the palace where cæsar was residing. the guards at the gates asked him what it was that he was carrying. he said that it was a present for cæsar. so they allowed him to pass, and the pretended porter carried his package safely in. when it was unrolled, and cleopatra came out to view, cæsar was perfectly charmed with the spectacle. in fact, the various conflicting emotions which she could not but feel under such circumstances as these, imparted a double interest to her beautiful and expressive face, and to her naturally bewitching manners. she was excited by the adventure through which she had passed, and yet pleased with her narrow escape from its dangers. the curiosity and interest which she felt on the one hand, in respect to the great personage into whose presence she had been thus strangely ushered, was very strong; but then, on the other, it was chastened and subdued by that feeling of timidity which, in new and unexpected situations like these, and under a consciousness of being the object of eager observation to the other sex, is inseparable from the nature of woman. [illustration: cleopatra entering the palace of cÆsar.] the conversation which cæsar held with cleopatra deepened the impression which her first appearance had made upon him. her intelligence and animation, the originality of her ideas, and the point and pertinency of her mode of expressing them, made her, independently of her personal charms, an exceedingly entertaining and agreeable companion. she, in fact, completely won the great conqueror's heart; and, through the strong attachment to her which he immediately formed, he became wholly disqualified to act impartially between her and her brother in regard to their respective rights to the crown. we call ptolemy cleopatra's brother; for, though he was also, in fact, her husband, still, as he was only ten or twelve years of age at the time of cleopatra's expulsion from alexandria, the marriage had been probably regarded, thus far, only as a mere matter of form. cæsar was now about fifty-two. he had a wife, named calpurnia, to whom he had been married about ten years. she was living, at this time, in an unostentatious and quiet manner at rome. she was a lady of an amiable and gentle character, devotedly attached to her husband, patient and forbearing in respect to his faults, and often anxious and unhappy at the thought of the difficulties and dangers in which his ardent and unbounded ambition so often involved him. cæsar immediately began to take a very strong interest in cleopatra's cause. he treated her personally with the fondest attention, and it was impossible for her not to reciprocate in some degree the kind feeling with which he regarded her. it was, in fact, something altogether new to her to have a warm and devoted friend, espousing her cause, tendering her protection, and seeking in every way to promote her happiness. her father had all his life neglected her. her brother, of years and understanding totally inferior to hers, whom she had been compelled to make her husband, had become her mortal enemy. it is true that, in depriving her of her inheritance and expelling her from her native land, he had been only the tool and instrument of more designing men. this, however, far from improving the point of view from which she regarded him, made him appear not only hateful, but contemptible too. all the officers of government, also, in the alexandrian court had turned against her, because they had supposed that they could control her brother more easily if she were away. thus she had always been surrounded by selfish, mercenary, and implacable foes. now, for the first time, she seemed to have a friend. a protector had suddenly arisen to support and defend her--a man of very alluring person and manners, of a very noble and generous spirit, and of the very highest station. he loved her, and she could not refrain from loving him in return. she committed her cause entirely into his hands, confided to him all her interests, and gave herself up wholly into his power. nor was the unbounded confidence which she reposed in him undeserved, so far as related to his efforts to restore her to her throne. the legions which cæsar had sent for into syria had not yet arrived, and his situation in alexandria was still very defenseless and very precarious. he did not, however, on this account, abate in the least degree the loftiness and self-confidence of the position which he had assumed, but he commenced immediately the work of securing cleopatra's restoration. this quiet assumption of the right and power to arbitrate and decide such a question as that of the claim to the throne, in a country where he had accidentally landed and found rival claimants disputing for the succession, while he was still wholly destitute of the means of enforcing the superiority which he so coolly assumed, marks the immense ascendency which the roman power had attained at this time in the estimation of mankind, and is, besides, specially characteristic of the genius and disposition of cæsar. very soon after cleopatra had come to him, cæsar sent for the young ptolemy, and urged upon him the duty and expediency of restoring cleopatra. ptolemy was beginning now to attain an age at which he might be supposed to have some opinion of his own on such a question. he declared himself utterly opposed to any such design. in the course of the conversation he learned that cleopatra had arrived at alexandria, and that she was then concealed in cæsar's palace. this intelligence awakened in his mind the greatest excitement and indignation. he went away from cæsar's presence in a rage. he tore the diadem which he was accustomed to wear from his head in the streets, threw it down, and trampled it under his feet. he declared to the people that he was betrayed, and displayed the most violent indications of vexation and chagrin. the chief subject of his complaint, in the attempts which he made to awaken the popular indignation against cæsar and the romans, was the disgraceful impropriety of the position which his sister had assumed in surrendering herself as she had done to cæsar. it is most probable, however, unless his character was very different from that of every other ptolemy in the line, that what really awakened his jealousy and anger was fear of the commanding influence and power to which cleopatra was likely to attain through the agency of so distinguished a protector, rather than any other consequences of his friendship, or any real considerations of delicacy in respect to his sister's good name or his own marital honor. however this may be, ptolemy, together with pothinus and achillas, and all his other friends and adherents, who joined him in the terrible outcry that he made against the coalition which he had discovered between cleopatra and cæsar, succeeded in producing a very general and violent tumult throughout the city. the populace were aroused, and began to assemble in great crowds, and full of indignation and anger. some knew the facts, and acted under something like an understanding of the cause of their anger. others only knew that the aim of this sudden outbreak was to assault the romans, and were ready, on any pretext, known or unknown, to join in any deeds of violence directed against these foreign intruders. there were others still, and these, probably, far the larger portion, who knew nothing and understood nothing but that there was to be tumult and a riot in and around the palaces, and were, accordingly, eager to be there. ptolemy and his officers had no large body of troops in alexandria; for the events which had thus far occurred since cæsar's arrival had succeeded each other so rapidly, that a very short time had yet elapsed, and the main army remained still at pelusium. the main force, therefore, by which cæsar was now attacked, consisted of the population of the city, headed, perhaps, by the few guards which the young king had at his command. cæsar, on his part, had but a small portion of his forces at the palace where he was attacked. the rest were scattered about the city. he, however, seems to have felt no alarm. he did not even confine himself to acting on the defensive. he sent out a detachment of his soldiers with orders to seize ptolemy and bring him in a prisoner. soldiers trained, disciplined, and armed as the roman veterans were, and nerved by the ardor and enthusiasm which seemed always to animate troops which were under cæsar's personal command, could accomplish almost any undertaking against a mere populace, however numerous or however furiously excited they might be. the soldiers sallied out, seized ptolemy, and brought him in. the populace were at first astounded at the daring presumption of this deed, and then exasperated at the indignity of it, considered as a violation of the person of their sovereign. the tumult would have greatly increased, had it not been that cæsar--who had now attained all his ends in thus having brought cleopatra and ptolemy both within his power--thought it most expedient to allay it. he accordingly ascended to the window of a tower, or of some other elevated portion of his palace, so high that missiles from the mob below could not reach him, and began to make signals expressive of his wish to address them. when silence was obtained, he made them a speech well calculated to quiet the excitement. he told them that he did not pretend to any right to judge between cleopatra and ptolemy as their superior, but only in the performance of the duty solemnly assigned by ptolemy auletes, the father, to the roman people, whose representative he was. other than this he claimed no jurisdiction in the case; and his only wish, in the discharge of the duty which devolved upon him to consider the cause, was to settle the question in a manner just and equitable to all the parties concerned, and thus arrest the progress of the civil war, which, if not arrested, threatened to involve the country in the most terrible calamities. he counseled them, therefore, to disperse, and no longer disturb the peace of the city. he would immediately take measures for trying the question between cleopatra and ptolemy, and he did not doubt but that they would all be satisfied with his decision. this speech, made, as it was, in the eloquent and persuasive, and yet dignified and imposing manner for which cæsar's harangues to turbulent assemblies like these were so famed, produced a great effect. some were convinced, others were silenced; and those whose resentment and anger were not appeased, found themselves deprived of their power by the pacification of the rest. the mob was dispersed, and ptolemy remained with cleopatra in cæsar's custody. the next day, cæsar, according to his promise, convened an assembly of the principal people of alexandria and officers of state, and then brought out ptolemy and cleopatra, that he might decide their cause. the original will which ptolemy auletes had executed had been deposited in the public archives of alexandria, and carefully preserved there. an authentic copy of it had been sent to rome. cæsar caused the original will to be brought out and read to the assembly. the provisions of it were perfectly explicit and clear. it required that cleopatra and ptolemy should be married, and then settled the sovereign power upon them jointly, as king and queen. it recognized the roman commonwealth as the ally of egypt, and constituted the roman government the executor of the will, and the guardian of the king and queen. in fact, so clear and explicit was this document, that the simple reading of it seemed to be of itself a decision of the question. when, therefore, cæsar announced that, in his judgment, cleopatra was entitled to share the supreme power with ptolemy, and that it was his duty, as the representative of the roman power and the executor of the will, to protect both the king and the queen in their respective rights, there seemed to be nothing that could be said against his decision. besides cleopatra and ptolemy, there were two other children of ptolemy auletes in the royal family at this time. one was a girl, named arsinoë. the other, a boy, was, singularly enough, named, like his brother, ptolemy. these children were quite young, but cæsar thought that it would perhaps gratify the alexandrians, and lead them to acquiesce more readily in his decision, if he were to make some royal provision for them. he accordingly proposed to assign the island of cyprus as a realm for them. this was literally a gift, for cyprus was at this time a roman possession.[ ] the whole assembly seemed satisfied with this decision except pothinus. he had been so determined and inveterate an enemy to cleopatra, that, as he was well aware, her restoration must end in his downfall and ruin. he went away from the assembly moodily determining that he would not submit to the decision, but would immediately adopt efficient measures to prevent its being carried into effect. cæsar made arrangements for a series of festivals and celebrations, to commemorate and confirm the re-establishment of a good understanding between the king and the queen, and the consequent termination of the war. such celebrations, he judged, would have great influence in removing any remaining animosities from the minds of the people, and restore the dominion of a kind and friendly feeling throughout the city. the people fell in with these measures, and cordially co-operated to give them effect; but pothinus and achillas, though they suppressed all outward expressions of discontent, made incessant efforts in secret to organize a party, and to form plans for overthrowing the influence of cæsar, and making ptolemy again the sole and exclusive sovereign. pothinus represented to all whom he could induce to listen to him that cæsar's real design was to make cleopatra queen alone, and to depose ptolemy, and urged them to combine with him to resist a policy which would end in bringing egypt under the dominion of a woman. he also formed a plan, in connection with achillas, for ordering the army back from pelusium. the army consisted of thirty thousand men. if that army could be brought to alexandria and kept under pothinus's orders, cæsar and his three thousand roman soldiers would be, they thought, wholly at their mercy. there was, however, one danger to be guarded against in ordering the army to march toward the capital, and that was, that ptolemy, while under cæsar's influence, might open communications with the officers, and so obtain command of its movements, and thwart all the conspirators' designs. to prevent this, it was arranged between pothinus and achillas that the latter should make his escape from alexandria, proceed immediately to the camp at pelusium, resume the command of the troops there, and conduct them himself to the capital; and that in all these operations, and also subsequently on his arrival, he should obey no orders unless they came to him through pothinus himself. although sentinels and guards were probably stationed at the gates and avenues leading from the city, achillas contrived to effect his escape and to join the army. he placed himself at the head of the forces, and commenced his march toward the capital. pothinus remained all the time within the city as a spy, pretending to acquiesce in cæsar's decision, and to be on friendly terms with him, but really plotting for his overthrow, and obtaining all the information which his position enabled him to command, in order that he might co-operate with the army and achillas when they should arrive. all these things were done with the utmost secrecy, and so cunning and adroit were the conspirators in forming and executing their plots, that cæsar seems to have had no knowledge of the measures which his enemies were taking, until he suddenly heard that the main body of ptolemy's army was approaching the city, at least twenty thousand strong. in the mean time, however, the forces which he had sent for from syria had not arrived, and no alternative was left but to defend the capital and himself as well as he could with the very small force which he had at his disposal. he determined, however, first, to try the effect of orders sent out in ptolemy's name to forbid the approach of the army to the city. two officers were accordingly intrusted with these orders, and sent out to communicate them to achillas. the names of these officers were dioscorides and serapion. it shows in a very striking point of view to what an incredible exaltation the authority and consequence of a sovereign king rose in those ancient days, in the minds of men, that achillas, at the moment when these men made their appearance in the camp, bearing evidently some command from ptolemy in the city, considered it more prudent to kill them at once, without hearing their message, rather than to allow the orders to be delivered and then take the responsibility of disobeying them. if he could succeed in marching to alexandria and in taking possession of the city, and then in expelling cæsar and cleopatra and restoring ptolemy to the exclusive possession of the throne, he knew very well that the king would rejoice in the result, and would overlook all irregularities on his part in the means by which he had accomplished it, short of absolute disobedience of a known command. whatever might be the commands that these messengers were bringing him, he supposed that they doubtless originated, not in ptolemy's own free will, but that they were dictated by the authority of cæsar. still, they would be commands coming in ptolemy's name; and the universal experience of officers serving under the military despots of those ancient days showed that, rather than to take the responsibility of directly disobeying a royal order once received, it was safer to avoid receiving it by murdering the messengers. achillas therefore directed the officers to be seized and slain. they were accordingly taken off and speared by the soldiers, and then the bodies were borne away. the soldiers, however, it was found, had not done their work effectually. there was no interest for them in such a cold-blooded assassination, and perhaps something like a sentiment of compassion restrained their hands. at any rate, though both the men were desperately wounded, one only died. the other lived and recovered. achillas continued to advance toward the city. cæsar, finding that the crisis which was approaching was becoming very serious in its character, took, himself, the whole command within the capital, and began to make the best arrangements possible under the circumstances of the case to defend himself there. his numbers were altogether too small to defend the whole city against the overwhelming force which was advancing to assail it. he accordingly intrenched his troops in the palaces and in the citadel, and in such other parts of the city as it seemed practicable to defend. he barricaded all the streets and avenues leading to these points, and fortified the gates. nor did he, while thus doing all in his power to employ the insufficient means of defense already in his hands to the best advantage, neglect the proper exertions for obtaining succor from abroad. he sent off galleys to syria, to cyprus, to rhodes, and to every other point accessible from alexandria where roman troops might be expected to be found, urging the authorities there to forward re-enforcements to him with the utmost possible dispatch. during all this time cleopatra and ptolemy remained in the palace with cæsar, both ostensibly co-operating with him in his councils and measures for defending the city from achillas. cleopatra, of course, was sincere and in earnest in this co-operation; but ptolemy's adhesion to the common cause was very little to be relied upon. although, situated as he was, he was compelled to seem to be on cæsar's side, he must have secretly desired that achillas should succeed and cæsar's plans be overthrown. pothinus was more active, though not less cautious in his hostility to them. he opened a secret communication with achillas, sending him information, from time to time, of what took place within the walls, and of the arrangements made there for the defense of the city against him, and gave him also directions how to proceed. he was very wary and sagacious in all these movements, feigning all the time to be on cæsar's side. he pretended to be very zealously employed in aiding cæsar to secure more effectually the various points where attacks were to be expected, and in maturing and completing the arrangements for defense. but, notwithstanding all his cunning, he was detected in his double dealing, and his career was suddenly brought to a close, before the great final conflict came on. there was a barber in cæsar's household, who, for some cause or other, began to suspect pothinus; and, having little else to do, he employed himself in watching the eunuch's movements and reporting them to cæsar. cæsar directed the barber to continue his observations. he did so; his suspicions were soon confirmed, and at length a letter, which pothinus had written to achillas, was intercepted and brought to cæsar. this furnished the necessary proof of what they called his guilt, and cæsar ordered him to be beheaded. this circumstance produced, of course, a great excitement within the palace, for pothinus had been for many years the great ruling minister of state--the king, in fact, in all but in name. his execution alarmed a great many others, who, though in cæsar's power, were secretly wishing that achillas might prevail. among those most disturbed by these fears was a man named ganymede. he was the officer who had charge of arsinoë, cleopatra's sister. the arrangement which cæsar had proposed for establishing her in conjunction with her brother ptolemy over the island of cyprus had not gone into effect; for, immediately after the decision of cæsar, the attention of all concerned had been wholly engrossed by the tidings of the advance of the army, and by the busy preparations which were required on all hands for the impending contest. arsinoë, therefore, with her governor ganymede, remained in the palace. ganymede had joined pothinus in his plots; and when pothinus was beheaded, he concluded that it would be safest for him to fly. he accordingly resolved to make his escape from the city, taking arsinoë with him. it was a very hazardous attempt, but he succeeded in accomplishing it. arsinoë was very willing to go, for she was now beginning to be old enough to feel the impulse of that insatiable and reckless ambition which seemed to form such an essential element in the character of every son and daughter in the whole ptolemaic line. she was insignificant and powerless where she was, but at the head of the army she might become immediately a queen. it resulted, in the first instance, as she had anticipated. achillas and his army received her with acclamations. under ganymede's influence they decided that, as all the other members of the royal family were in durance, being held captive by a foreign general, who had by chance obtained possession of the capital, and were thus incapacitated for exercising the royal power, the crown devolved upon arsinoë; and they accordingly proclaimed her queen. every thing was now prepared for a desperate and determined contest for the crown between cleopatra, with cæsar for her minister and general, on the one side, and arsinoë, with ganymede and achillas for her chief officers, on the other. the young ptolemy, in the mean time, remained cæsar's prisoner, confused with the intricacies in which the quarrel had become involved, and scarcely knowing now what to wish in respect to the issue of the contest. it was very difficult to foresee whether it would be best for him that cleopatra or that arsinoë should succeed. chapter vii. the alexandrine war. the war which ensued as the result of the intrigues and maneuvers described in the last chapter is known in the history of rome and julius cæsar as the alexandrine war. the events which occurred during the progress of it, and its termination at last in the triumph of cæsar and cleopatra, will form the subject of this chapter. achillas had greatly the advantage over cæsar at the outset of the contest, in respect to the strength of the forces under his command. cæsar, in fact, had with him only a detachment of three or four thousand men, a small body of troops which he had hastily put on board a little squadron of rhodian galleys for pursuing pompey across the mediterranean. when he set sail from the european shores with this inconsiderable fleet, it is probable that he had no expectation even of landing in egypt at all, and much less of being involved in great military undertakings there. achillas, on the other hand, was at the head of a force of twenty thousand effective men. his troops were, it is true, of a somewhat miscellaneous character, but they were all veteran soldiers, inured to the climate of egypt, and skilled in all the modes of warfare which were suited to the character of the country. some of them were roman soldiers, men who had come with the army of mark antony from syria when ptolemy auletes, cleopatra's father, was reinstated on the throne, and had been left in egypt, in ptolemy's service, when antony returned to rome. some were native egyptians. there was also in the army of achillas a large number of fugitive slaves--refugees who had made their escape from various points along the shores of the mediterranean, at different periods, and had been from time to time incorporated into the egyptian army. these fugitives were all men of the most determined and desperate character. achillas had also in his command a force of two thousand horse. such a body of cavalry made him, of course, perfect master of all the open country outside the city walls. at the head of these troops achillas gradually advanced to the very gates of alexandria, invested the city on every side, and shut cæsar closely in. the danger of the situation in which cæsar was placed was extreme; but he had been so accustomed to succeed in extricating himself from the most imminent perils, that neither he himself nor his army seem to have experienced any concern in respect to the result. cæsar personally felt a special pride and pleasure in encountering the difficulties and dangers which now beset him, because cleopatra was with him to witness his demeanor, to admire his energy and courage, and to reward by her love the efforts and sacrifices which he was making in espousing her cause. she confided every thing to him, but she watched all the proceedings with the most eager interest, elated with hope in respect to the result, and proud of the champion who had thus volunteered to defend her. in a word, her heart was full of gratitude, admiration, and love. the immediate effect, too, of the emotions which she felt so strongly was greatly to heighten her natural charms. the native force and energy of her character were softened and subdued. her voice, which always possessed a certain inexpressible charm, was endued with new sweetness through the influence of affection. her countenance beamed with fresh animation and beauty, and the sprightliness and vivacity of her character, which became at later periods of her life boldness and eccentricity, now being softened and restrained within proper limits by the respectful regard with which she looked upon cæsar, made her an enchanting companion. cæsar was, in fact, entirely intoxicated with the fascinations which she unconsciously displayed. under other circumstances than these, a personal attachment so strong, formed by a military commander while engaged in active service, might have been expected to interfere in some degree with the discharge of his duties; but in this case, since it was for cleopatra's sake and in her behalf that the operations which cæsar had undertaken were to be prosecuted, his love for her only stimulated the spirit and energy with which he engaged in them. the first measure to be adopted was, as cæsar plainly perceived, to concentrate and strengthen his position in the city, so that he might be able to defend himself there against achillas until he should receive re-enforcements from abroad. for this purpose he selected a certain group of palaces and citadels which lay together near the head of the long pier or causeway which led to the pharos, and, withdrawing his troops from all other parts of the city, established them there. the quarter which he thus occupied contained the great city arsenals and public granaries. cæsar brought together all the arms and munitions of war which he could find in other parts of the city, and also all the corn and other provisions which were contained either in the public depôts or in private warehouses, and stored the whole within his lines. he then inclosed the whole quarter with strong defenses. the avenues leading to it were barricaded with walls of stone. houses in the vicinity which might have afforded shelter to an enemy were demolished, and the materials used in constructing walls wherever they were needed, or in strengthening the barricades. prodigious military engines, made to throw heavy stones, and beams of wood, and other ponderous missiles, were set up within his lines, and openings were made in the walls and other defenses of the citadel, wherever necessary, to facilitate the action of these machines. [illustration: view of alexandria.] there was a strong fortress situated at the head of the pier or mole leading to the island of pharos, which was without cæsar's lines, and still in the hands of the egyptian authorities. the egyptians thus commanded the entrance to the mole. the island itself, also, with the fortress at the other end of the pier, was still in the possession of the egyptian authorities, who seemed disposed to hold it for achillas. the mole was very long, as the island was nearly a mile from the shore. there was quite a little town upon the island itself, besides the fortress or castle built there to defend the place. the garrison of this castle was strong, and the inhabitants of the town, too, constituted a somewhat formidable population, as they consisted of fishermen, sailors, wreckers, and such other desperate characters as usually congregate about such a spot. cleopatra and cæsar, from the windows of their palace within the city, looked out upon this island, with the tall light-house rising in the center of it and the castle at its base, and upon the long and narrow isthmus connecting it with the main land, and concluded that it was very essential that they should get possession of the post, commanding, as it did, the entrance to the harbor. in the harbor, too, which, as will be seen from the engraving, was on the south side of the mole, and, consequently, on the side opposite to that from which achillas was advancing toward the city, there were lying a large number of egyptian vessels, some dismantled, and others manned and armed more or less effectively. these vessels had not yet come into achillas's hands, but it would be certain that he would take possession of them as soon as he should gain admittance to those parts of the city which cæsar had abandoned. this it was extremely important to prevent; for, if achillas held this fleet, especially if he continued to command the island of pharos, he would be perfect master of all the approaches to the city on the side of the sea. he could then not only receive re-enforcements and supplies himself from that quarter, but he could also effectually cut off the roman army from all possibility of receiving any. it became, therefore, as cæsar thought, imperiously necessary that he should protect himself from this danger. this he did by sending out an expedition to burn all the shipping in the harbor, and, at the same time, to take possession of a certain fort upon the island of pharos which commanded the entrance to the port. this undertaking was abundantly successful. the troops burned the shipping, took the fort, expelled the egyptian soldiers from it, and put a roman garrison into it instead, and then returned in safety within cæsar's lines. cleopatra witnessed these exploits from her palace windows with feelings of the highest admiration for the energy and valor which her roman protectors displayed. the burning of the egyptian ships in this action, however fortunate for cleopatra and cæsar, was attended with a catastrophe which has ever since been lamented by the whole civilized world. some of the burning ships were driven by the wind to the shore, where they set fire to the buildings which were contiguous to the water. the flames spread and produced an extensive conflagration, in the course of which the largest part of the great library was destroyed. this library was the only general collection of the ancient writings that ever had been made, and the loss of it was never repaired. the destruction of the egyptian fleet resulted also in the downfall and ruin of achillas. from the time of arsinoë's arrival in the camp there had been a constant rivalry and jealousy between himself and ganymede, the eunuch who had accompanied arsinoë in her flight. two parties had been formed in the army, some declaring for achillas and some for ganymede. arsinoë advocated ganymede's interests, and when, at length, the fleet was burned, she charged achillas with having been, by his neglect or incapacity, the cause of the loss. achillas was tried, condemned, and beheaded. from that time ganymede assumed the administration of arsinoë's government as her minister of state and the commander-in-chief of her armies. about the time that these occurrences took place, the egyptian army advanced into those parts of the city from which cæsar had withdrawn, producing those terrible scenes of panic and confusion which always attend a sudden and violent change of military possession within the precincts of a city. ganymede brought up his troops on every side to the walls of cæsar's citadels and intrenchments, and hemmed him closely in. he cut off all avenues of approach to cæsar's lines by land, and commenced vigorous preparations for an assault. he constructed engines for battering down the walls. he opened shops and established forges in every part of the city for the manufacture of darts, spears, pikes, and all kinds of military machinery. he built towers supported upon huge wheels, with the design of filling them with armed men when finally ready to make his assault upon cæsar's lines, and moving them up to the walls of the citadels and palaces, so as to give to his soldiers the advantage of a lofty elevation in making their attacks. he levied contributions on the rich citizens for the necessary funds, and provided himself with men by pressing all the artisans, laborers, and men capable of bearing arms into his service. he sent messengers back into the interior of the country, in every direction, summoning the people to arms, and calling for contributions of money and military stores. these messengers were instructed to urge upon the people that, unless cæsar and his army were at once expelled from alexandria, there was imminent danger that the national independence of egypt would be forever destroyed. the romans, they were to say, had extended their conquests over almost all the rest of the world. they had sent one army into egypt before, under the command of mark antony, under the pretense of restoring ptolemy auletes to the throne. now another commander, with another force, had come, offering some other pretexts for interfering in their affairs. these roman encroachments, the messengers were to say, would end in the complete subjugation of egypt to a foreign power, unless the people of the country aroused themselves to meet the danger manfully, and to expel the intruders. as cæsar had possession of the island of pharos and of the harbor, ganymede could not cut him off from receiving such re-enforcements of men and arms as he might make arrangements for obtaining beyond the sea; nor could he curtail his supply of food, as the granaries and magazines within cæsar's quarter of the city contained almost inexhaustible stores of corn. there was one remaining point essential to the subsistence of an army besieged, and that was an abundant supply of water. the palaces and citadels which cæsar occupied were supplied with water by means of numerous subterranean aqueducts, which conveyed the water from the nile to vast cisterns built under ground, whence it was raised by buckets and hydraulic engines for use. in reflecting upon this circumstance, ganymede conceived the design of secretly digging a canal, so as to turn the waters of the sea by means of it into these aqueducts. this plan he carried into effect. the consequence was, that the water in the cisterns was gradually changed. it became first brackish, then more and more salt and bitter, until, at length, it was wholly impossible to use it. for some time the army within could not understand these changes; and when, at length, they discovered the cause, the soldiers were panic-stricken at the thought that they were now apparently wholly at the mercy of their enemies, since, without supplies of water, they must all immediately perish. they considered it hopeless to attempt any longer to hold out, and urged cæsar to evacuate the city, embark on board his galleys, and proceed to sea. instead of doing this, however, cæsar, ordering all other operations to be suspended, employed the whole laboring force of his command, under the direction of the captains of the several companies, in digging wells in every part of his quarter of the city. fresh water, he said, was almost invariably found, at a moderate depth, upon sea-coasts, even upon ground lying in very close proximity with the sea. the diggings were successful. fresh water, in great abundance, was found. thus this danger was passed, and the men's fears effectually relieved. a short time after these transactions occurred, there came into the harbor one day, from along the shore west of the city, a small sloop, bringing the intelligence that a squadron of transports had arrived upon the coast to the westward of alexandria, and had anchored there, being unable to come up to the city on account of an easterly wind which prevailed at that season of the year. this squadron was one which had been sent across the mediterranean with arms, ammunition, and military stores for cæsar, in answer to requisitions which he had made immediately after he had landed. the transports being thus wind-bound on the coast, and having nearly exhausted their supplies of water, were in distress; and they accordingly sent forward the sloop, which was probably propelled by oars, to make known their situation to cæsar, and to ask for succor. cæsar immediately went, himself, on board of one of his galleys, and ordering the remainder of his little fleet to follow him, he set sail out of the harbor, and then turned to the westward, with a view of proceeding along the coast to the place where the transports were lying. all this was done secretly. the land is so low in the vicinity of alexandria that boats or galleys are out of sight from it at a very short distance from the shore. in fact, travelers say that, in coming upon the coast, the illusion produced by the spherical form of the surface of the water and the low and level character of the coast is such that one seems actually to descend from the sea to the land. cæsar might therefore have easily kept his expedition a secret, had it not been that, in order to be provided with a supply of water for the transports immediately on reaching them, he stopped at a solitary part of the coast, at some distance from alexandria, and sent a party a little way into the interior in search for water. this party were discovered by the country people, and were intercepted by a troop of horse and made prisoners. from these prisoners the egyptians learned that cæsar himself was on the coast with a small squadron of galleys. the tidings spread in all directions. the people flocked together from every quarter. they hastily collected all the boats and vessels which could be obtained at the villages in that region and from the various branches of the nile. in the mean time, cæsar had gone on to the anchorage ground of the squadron, and had taken the transports in tow to bring them to the city; for the galleys, being propelled by oars, were in a measure independent of the wind. on his return, he found quite a formidable naval armament assembled to dispute the passage. a severe conflict ensued, but cæsar was victorious. the navy which the egyptians had so suddenly got together was as suddenly destroyed. some of the vessels were burned, others sunk, and others captured; and cæsar returned in triumph to the port with his transports and stores. he was welcomed with the acclamations of his soldiers, and, still more warmly, by the joy and gratitude of cleopatra, who had been waiting during his absence in great anxiety and suspense to know the result of the expedition, aware as she was that her hero was exposing himself in it to the most imminent personal danger. the arrival of these re-enforcements greatly improved cæsar's condition, and the circumstance of their coming forced upon the mind of ganymede a sense of the absolute necessity that he should gain possession of the harbor if he intended to keep cæsar in check. he accordingly determined to take immediate measures for forming a naval force. he sent along the coast, and ordered every ship and galley that could be found in all the ports to be sent immediately to alexandria. he employed as many men as possible in and around the city in building more. he unroofed some of the most magnificent edifices to procure timber as a material for making benches and oars. when all was ready, he made a grand attack upon cæsar in the port, and a terrible contest ensued for the possession of the harbor, the mole, the island, and the citadels and fortresses commanding the entrances from the sea. cæsar well knew that this contest would be a decisive one in respect to the final result of the war, and he accordingly went forth himself to take an active and personal part in the conflict. he felt doubtless, too, a strong emotion of pride and pleasure in exhibiting his prowess in the sight of cleopatra, who could watch the progress of the battle from the palace windows, full of excitement at the dangers which he incurred, and of admiration at the feats of strength and valor which he performed. during this battle the life of the great conqueror was several times in the most imminent danger. he wore a habit or mantle of the imperial purple, which made him a conspicuous mark for his enemies; and, of course, wherever he went, in that place was the hottest of the fight. once, in the midst of a scene of most dreadful confusion and din, he leaped from an overloaded boat into the water and swam for his life, holding his cloak between his teeth and drawing it through the water after him, that it might not fall into the hands of his enemies. he carried, at the same time, as he swam, certain valuable papers which he wished to save, holding them above his head with one hand, while he propelled himself through the water with the other. the result of this contest was another decisive victory for cæsar. not only were the ships which the egyptians had collected defeated and destroyed, but the mole, with the fortresses at each extremity of it, and the island, with the light-house and the town of pharos, all fell into cæsar's hands. the egyptians now began to be discouraged. the army and the people, judging, as mankind always do, of the virtue of their military commanders solely by the criterion of success, began to be tired of the rule of ganymede and arsinoë. they sent secret messengers to cæsar avowing their discontent, and saying that, if he would liberate ptolemy--who, it will be recollected, had been all this time held as a sort of prisoner of state in cæsar's palaces--they thought that the people generally would receive him as their sovereign, and that then an arrangement might easily be made for an amicable adjustment of the whole controversy. cæsar was strongly inclined to accede to this proposal. he accordingly called ptolemy into his presence, and, taking him kindly by the hand, informed him of the wishes of the people of egypt, and gave him permission to go. ptolemy, however, begged not to be sent away. he professed the strongest attachment to cæsar, and the utmost confidence in him, and he very much preferred, he said, to remain under his protection. cæsar replied that, if those were his sentiments, the separation would not be a lasting one. "if we part as friends," he said, "we shall soon meet again." by these and similar assurances he endeavored to encourage the young prince, and then sent him away. ptolemy was received by the egyptians with great joy, and was immediately placed at the head of the government. instead, however, of endeavoring to promote a settlement of the quarrel with cæsar, he seemed to enter into it now himself, personally, with the utmost ardor, and began at once to make the most extensive preparations both by sea and land for a vigorous prosecution of the war. what the result of these operations would have been can now not be known, for the general aspect of affairs was, soon after these transactions, totally changed by the occurrence of a new and very important event which suddenly intervened, and which turned the attention of all parties, both egyptians and romans, to the eastern quarter of the kingdom. the tidings arrived that a large army, under the command of a general named mithradates, whom cæsar had dispatched into asia for this purpose, had suddenly appeared at pelusium, had captured that city, and were now ready to march to alexandria. the egyptian army immediately broke up its encampments in the neighborhood of alexandria, and marched to the eastward to meet these new invaders. cæsar followed them with all the forces that he could safely take away from the city. he left the city in the night and unobserved, and moved across the country with such celerity that he joined mithradates before the forces of ptolemy had arrived. after various marches and maneuvers, the armies met, and a great battle was fought. the egyptians were defeated. ptolemy's camp was taken. as the roman army burst in upon one side of it, the guards and attendants of ptolemy fled upon the other, clambering over the ramparts in the utmost terror and confusion. the foremost fell headlong into the ditch below, which was thus soon filled to the brim with the dead and the dying; while those who came behind pressed on over the bridge thus formed, trampling remorselessly, as they fled, on the bodies of their comrades, who lay writhing, struggling, and shrieking beneath their feet. those who escaped reached the river. they crowded together into a boat which lay at the bank and pushed off from the shore. the boat was overloaded, and it sank as soon as it left the land. the romans drew the bodies which floated to the shore up upon the bank again, and they found among them one, which, by the royal cuirass which was upon it, the customary badge and armor of the egyptian kings, they knew to be the body of ptolemy. the victory which cæsar obtained in this battle and the death of ptolemy ended the war. nothing now remained but for him to place himself at the head of the combined forces and march back to alexandria. the egyptian forces which had been left there made no resistance, and he entered the city in triumph. he took arsinoë prisoner. he decreed that cleopatra should reign as queen, and that she should marry her youngest brother, the other ptolemy--a boy at this time about eleven years of age. a marriage with one so young was, of course, a mere form. cleopatra remained, as before, the companion of cæsar. cæsar had, in the mean time, incurred great censure at rome, and throughout the whole roman world, for having thus turned aside from his own proper duties as the roman consul, and the commander-in-chief of the armies of the empire, to embroil himself in the quarrels of a remote and secluded kingdom, with which the interests of the roman commonwealth were so little connected. his friends and the authorities at rome were continually urging him to return. they were especially indignant at his protracted neglect of his own proper duties, from knowing that he was held in egypt by a guilty attachment to the queen--thus not only violating his obligations to the state, but likewise inflicting upon his wife calpurnia, and his family at rome, an intolerable wrong. but cæsar was so fascinated by cleopatra's charms, and by the mysterious and unaccountable influence which she exercised over him, that he paid no heed to any of these remonstrances. even after the war was ended he remained some months in egypt to enjoy his favorite's society. he would spend whole nights in her company, in feasting and revelry. he made a splendid royal progress with her through egypt after the war was over, attended by a numerous train of roman guards. he formed a plan for taking her to rome, and marrying her there; and he took measures for having the laws of the city altered so as to enable him to do so, though he was already married. all these things produced great discontent and disaffection among cæsar's friends and throughout the roman army. the egyptians, too, strongly censured the conduct of cleopatra. a son was born to her about this time, whom the alexandrians named, from his father, cæsarion. cleopatra was regarded in the new relation of mother, which she now sustained, not with interest and sympathy, but with feelings of reproach and condemnation. cleopatra was all this time growing more and more accomplished and more and more beautiful; but her vivacity and spirit, which had been so charming while it was simple and childlike, now began to appear more forward and bold. it is the characteristic of pure and lawful love to soften and subdue the heart, and infuse a gentle and quiet spirit into all its action; while that which breaks over the barriers that god and nature have marked out for it, tends to make woman masculine and bold, to indurate all her sensibilities, and to destroy that gentleness and timidity of demeanor which have so great an influence in heightening her charms. cleopatra was beginning to experience these effects. she was indifferent to the opinions of her subjects, and was only anxious to maintain as long as possible her guilty ascendency over cæsar. cæsar, however, finally determined to set out on his return to the capital. leaving cleopatra, accordingly, a sufficient force to secure the continuance of her power, he embarked the remainder of his forces in his transports and galleys, and sailed away. he took the unhappy arsinoë with him, intending to exhibit her as a trophy of his egyptian victories on his arrival at rome. chapter viii. cleopatra a queen. the war by which cæsar reinstated cleopatra upon the throne was not one of very long duration. cæsar arrived in egypt in pursuit of pompey about the st of august; the war was ended and cleopatra established in secure possession by the end of january; so that the conflict, violent as it was while it continued, was very brief, the peaceful and commercial pursuits of the alexandrians having been interrupted by it only for a few months. nor did either the war itself, or the derangements consequent upon it, extend very far into the interior of the country. the city of alexandria itself and the neighboring coasts were the chief scenes of the contest until mithradates arrived at pelusium. he, it is true, marched across the delta, and the final battle was fought in the interior of the country. it was, however, after all, but a very small portion of the egyptian territory that was directly affected by the war. the great mass of the people, occupying the rich and fertile tracts which bordered the various branches of the nile, and the long and verdant valley which extended so far into the heart of the continent, knew nothing of the conflict but by vague and distant rumors. the pursuits of the agricultural population went on, all the time, as steadily and prosperously as ever; so that when the conflict was ended, and cleopatra entered upon the quiet and peaceful possession of her power, she found that the resources of her empire were very little impaired. she availed herself, accordingly, of the revenues which poured in very abundantly upon her, to enter upon a career of the greatest luxury, magnificence, and splendor. the injuries which had been done to the palaces and other public edifices of alexandria by the fire, and by the military operations of the siege, were repaired. the bridges which had been broken down were rebuilt. the canals which had been obstructed were opened again. the sea-water was shut off from the palace cisterns; the rubbish of demolished houses was removed; the barricades were cleared from the streets; and the injuries which the palaces had suffered, either from the violence of military engines or the rough occupation of the roman soldiery, were repaired. in a word, the city was speedily restored once more, so far as was possible, to its former order and beauty. the five hundred thousand manuscripts of the alexandrian library, which had been burned, could not, indeed, be restored; but, in all other respects, the city soon resumed in appearance all its former splendor. even in respect to the library, cleopatra made an effort to retrieve the loss. she repaired the ruined buildings, and afterward, in the course of her life, she brought together, it was said, in a manner hereafter to be described, one or two hundred thousand rolls of manuscripts, as the commencement of a new collection. the new library, however, never acquired the fame and distinction that had pertained to the old. the former sovereigns of egypt, cleopatra's ancestors, had generally, as has already been shown, devoted the immense revenues which they extorted from the agriculturalists of the valley of the nile to purposes of ambition. cleopatra seemed now disposed to expend them in luxury and pleasure. they, the ptolemies, had employed their resources in erecting vast structures, or founding magnificent institutions at alexandria, to add to the glory of the city, and to widen and extend their own fame. cleopatra, on the other hand, as was, perhaps, naturally to be expected of a young, beautiful, and impulsive woman, suddenly raised to so conspicuous a position, and to the possession of such unbounded wealth and power, expended her royal revenues in plans of personal display, and in scenes of festivity, gayety, and enjoyment. she adorned her palaces, built magnificent barges for pleasure excursions on the nile, and expended enormous sums for dress, for equipages, and for sumptuous entertainments. in fact, so lavish were her expenditures for these and similar purposes during the early years of her reign, that she is considered as having carried the extravagance of sensual luxury and personal display and splendor beyond the limits that had ever before or have ever since been attained. whatever of simplicity of character, and of gentleness and kindness of spirit she might have possessed in her earlier years, of course gradually disappeared under the influences of such a course of life as she now was leading. she was beautiful and fascinating still, but she began to grow selfish, heartless, and designing. her little brother--he was but eleven years of age, it will be recollected, when cæsar arranged the marriage between them--was an object of jealousy to her. he was now, of course, too young to take any actual share in the exercise of the royal power, or to interfere at all in his sister's plans or pleasures. but then he was growing older. in a few years he would be fifteen--which was the period of life fixed upon by cæsar's arrangements, and, in fact, by the laws and usages of the egyptian kingdom--when he was to come into possession of power as king, and as the husband of cleopatra. cleopatra was extremely unwilling that the change in her relations to him and to the government, which this period was to bring, should take place. accordingly, just before the time arrived, she caused him to be poisoned. his death released her, as she had intended, from all restraints, and thereafter she continued to reign alone. during the remainder of her life, so far as the enjoyment of wealth and power, and of all other elements of external prosperity could go, cleopatra's career was one of uninterrupted success. she had no conscientious scruples to interfere with the most full and unrestrained indulgence of every propensity of her heart, and the means of indulgence were before her in the most unlimited profusion. the only bar to her happiness was the impossibility of satisfying the impulses and passions of the human soul, when they once break over the bounds which the laws both of god and of nature ordain for restraining them. in the mean time, while cleopatra was spending the early years of her reign in all this luxury and splendor, cæsar was pursuing his career, as the conqueror of the world, in the most successful manner. on the death of pompey, he would naturally have succeeded at once to the enjoyment of the supreme power; but his delay in egypt, and the extent to which it was known that he was entangled with cleopatra, encouraged and strengthened his enemies in various parts of the world. in fact, a revolt which broke out in asia minor, and which it was absolutely necessary that he should proceed at once to quell, was the immediate cause of his leaving egypt at last. other plans for making head against cæsar's power were formed in spain, in africa, and in italy. his military skill and energy, however, were so great, and the ascendency which he exercised over the minds of men by his personal presence was so unbounded, and so astonishing, moreover, was the celerity with which he moved from continent to continent, and from kingdom to kingdom, that in a very short period from the time of his leaving egypt, he had conducted most brilliant and successful campaigns in all the three quarters of the world then known, had put down effectually all opposition to his power, and then had returned to rome the acknowledged master of the world. cleopatra, who had, of course, watched his career during all this time with great pride and pleasure, concluded, at last, to go to rome and make a visit to him there. the people of rome were, however, not prepared to receive her very cordially. it was an age in which vice of every kind was regarded with great indulgence, but the moral instincts of mankind were too strong to be wholly blinded to the true character of so conspicuous an example of wickedness as this. arsinoë was at rome, too, during this period of cæsar's life. he had brought her there, it will be recollected, on his return from egypt, as a prisoner, and as a trophy of his victory. his design was, in fact, to reserve her as a captive to grace his _triumph_. a triumph, according to the usages of the ancient romans, was a grand celebration decreed by the senate to great military commanders of the highest rank, when they returned from distant campaigns in which they had made great conquests or gained extraordinary victories. cæsar concentrated all his triumphs into one. they were celebrated on his return to rome for the last time, after having completed the conquest of the world. the processions of this triumph occupied four days. in fact, there were four triumphs, one on each day for the four days. the wars and conquests which these ovations were intended to celebrate were those of gaul, of egypt, of asia, and of africa; and the processions on the several days consisted of endless trains of prisoners, trophies, arms, banners, pictures, images, convoys of wagons loaded with plunder, captive princes and princesses, animals, wild and tame, and every thing else which the conqueror had been able to bring home with him from his campaigns, to excite the curiosity or the admiration of the people of the city, and illustrate the magnitude of his exploits. of course, the roman generals, when engaged in distant foreign wars, were ambitious of bringing back as many distinguished captives and as much public plunder as they were able to obtain, in order to add to the variety and splendor of the triumphal procession by which their victories were to be honored on their return. it was with this view that cæsar brought arsinoë from egypt; and he had retained her as his captive at rome until his conquests were completed and the time for his triumph arrived. she, of course, formed a part of the triumphal train on the _egyptian_ day. she walked immediately before the chariot in which cæsar rode. she was in chains, like any other captive, though her chains, in honor of her lofty rank, were made of gold. [illustration: cleopatra's sister in the triumphal procession.] the effect, however, upon the roman population of seeing the unhappy princess, overwhelmed as she was with sorrow and chagrin, as she moved slowly along in the train, among the other emblems and trophies of violence and plunder, proved to be by no means favorable to cæsar. the populace were inclined to pity her, and to sympathize with her in her sufferings. the sight of her distress recalled, too, to their minds the dereliction from duty of which cæsar had been guilty of in his yielding to the enticements of cleopatra, and remaining so long in egypt to the neglect of his proper duties as a roman minister of state. in a word, the tide of admiration for cæsar's military exploits which had been setting so strongly in his favor, seemed inclined to turn, and the city was filled with murmurs against him even in the midst of his triumphs. in fact, the pride and vainglory which led cæsar to make his triumphs more splendid and imposing than any former conqueror had ever enjoyed, caused him to overact his part so as to produce effects the reverse of his intentions. the case of arsinoë was one example of this. instead of impressing the people with a sense of the greatness of his exploits in egypt, in deposing one queen and bringing her captive to rome, in order that he might place another upon the throne in her stead, it only reproduced anew the censures and criminations which he had deserved by his actions there, but which, had it not been for the pitiable spectacle of arsinoë in the train, might have been forgotten. there were other examples of a similar character. there were the feasts, for instance. from the plunder which cæsar had obtained in his various campaigns, he expended the most enormous sums in making feasts and spectacles for the populace at the time of his triumph. a large portion of the populace was pleased, it is true, with the boundless indulgences thus offered to them; but the better part of the roman people were indignant at the waste and extravagance which were every where displayed. for many days the whole city of rome presented to the view nothing but one wide-spread scene of riot and debauchery. the people, instead of being pleased with this abundance, said that cæsar must have practiced the most extreme and lawless extortion to have obtained the vast amount of money necessary to enable him to supply such unbounded and reckless waste. there was another way, too, by which cæsar turned public opinion strongly against himself, by the very means which he adopted for creating a sentiment in his favor. the romans, among the other barbarous amusements which were practiced in the city, were specially fond of combats. these combats were of various kinds. they were fought sometimes between ferocious beasts of the same or of different species, as dogs against each other, or against bulls, lions, or tigers. any animals, in fact, were employed for this purpose, that could be teased or goaded into anger and ferocity in a fight. sometimes men were employed in these combats--captive soldiers, that had been taken in war, and brought to rome to fight in the amphitheaters there as gladiators. these men were compelled to contend sometimes with wild beasts, and sometimes with one another. cæsar, knowing how highly the roman assemblies enjoyed such scenes, determined to afford them the indulgence on a most magnificent scale, supposing, of course, that the greater and the more dreadful the fight, the higher would be the pleasure which the spectators would enjoy in witnessing it. accordingly, in making preparations for the festivities attending his triumph, he caused a large artificial lake to be formed at a convenient place in the vicinity of rome, where it could be surrounded by the populace of the city, and there he made arrangements for a naval battle. a great number of galleys were introduced into the lake. they were of the usual size employed in war. these galleys were manned with numerous soldiers. tyrian captives were put upon one side, and egyptian upon the other; and when all was ready, the two squadrons were ordered to approach and fight a real naval battle for the amusement of the enormous throngs of spectators that were assembled around. as the nations from which the combatants in this conflict were respectively taken were hostile to each other, and as the men fought, of course, for their lives, the engagement was attended with the usual horrors of a desperate naval encounter. hundreds were slain. the dead bodies of the combatants fell from the galleys into the lake, and the waters of it were dyed with their blood. there were land combats, too, on the same grand scale. in one of them five hundred foot soldiers, twenty elephants, and a troop of thirty horse were engaged on each side. this combat, therefore, was an action greater, in respect to the number of the combatants, than the famous battle of lexington, which marked the commencement of the american war; and in respect to the slaughter which took place, it was very probably ten times greater. the horror of these scenes proved to be too much even for the populace, fierce and merciless as it was, which they were intended to amuse. cæsar, in his eagerness to outdo all former exhibitions and shows, went beyond the limits within which the seeing of men butchered in bloody combats and dying in agony and despair would serve for a pleasure and a pastime. the people were shocked; and condemnations of cæsar's cruelty were added to the other suppressed reproaches and criminations which every where arose. cleopatra, during her visit to rome, lived openly with cæsar at his residence, and this excited very general displeasure. in fact, while the people pitied arsinoë, cleopatra, notwithstanding her beauty and her thousand personal accomplishments and charms, was an object of general displeasure, so far as public attention was turned toward her at all. the public mind was, however, much engrossed by the great political movements made by cæsar and the ends toward which he seemed to be aiming. men accused him of designing to be made a king. parties were formed for and against him; and though men did not dare openly to utter their sentiments, their passions became the more violent in proportion to the external force by which they were suppressed. mark antony was at rome at this time. he warmly espoused cæsar's cause, and encouraged his design of making himself king. he once, in fact, offered to place a royal diadem upon cæsar's head at some public celebration; but the marks of public disapprobation which the act elicited caused him to desist. at length, however, the time arrived when cæsar determined to cause himself to be proclaimed king. he took advantage of a certain remarkable conjuncture of public affairs, which can not here be particularly described, but which seemed to him specially to favor his designs, and arrangements were made for having him invested with the regal power by the senate. the murmurs and the discontent of the people at the indications that the time for the realization of their fears was drawing nigh, became more and more audible, and at length a conspiracy was formed to put an end to the danger by destroying the ambitious aspirant's life. two stern and determined men, brutus and cassius, were the leaders of this conspiracy. they matured their plans, organized their band of associates, provided themselves secretly with arms, and when the senate convened, on the day in which the decisive vote was to have been passed, cæsar himself presiding, they came up boldly around him in his presidential chair, and murdered him with their daggers. antony, from whom the plans of the conspirators had been kept profoundly secret, stood by, looking on stupefied and confounded while the deed was done, but utterly unable to render his friend any protection. cleopatra immediately fled from the city and returned to egypt. arsinoë had gone away before. cæsar, either taking pity on her misfortunes, or impelled, perhaps, by the force of public sentiment, which seemed inclined to take part with her against him, set her at liberty immediately after the ceremonies of his triumph were over. he would not, however, allow her to return into egypt, for fear, probably, that she might in some way or other be the means of disturbing the government of cleopatra. she proceeded, accordingly, into syria, no longer as a captive, but still as an exile from her native land. we shall hereafter learn what became of her there. calpurnia mourned the death of her husband with sincere and unaffected grief. she bore the wrongs which she suffered as a wife with a very patient and unrepining spirit, and loved her husband with the most devoted attachment to the end. nothing can be more affecting than the proofs of her tender and anxious regard on the night immediately preceding the assassination. there were certain slight and obscure indications of danger which her watchful devotion to her husband led her to observe, though they eluded the notice of all cæsar's other friends, and they filled her with apprehension and anxiety; and when at length the bloody body was brought home to her from the senate-house, she was overwhelmed with grief and despair. she had no children. she accordingly looked upon mark antony as her nearest friend and protector, and in the confusion and terror which prevailed the next day in the city, she hastily packed together the money and other valuables contained in the house, and all her husband's books and papers, and sent them to antony for safe keeping. chapter ix. the battle of philippi. when the tidings of the assassination of cæsar were first announced to the people of rome, all ranks and classes of men were struck with amazement and consternation. no one knew what to say or do. a very large and influential portion of the community had been cæsar's friends. it was equally certain that there was a very powerful interest opposed to him. no one could foresee which of these two parties would now carry the day, and, of course, for a time, all was uncertainty and indecision. mark antony came forward at once, and assumed the position of cæsar's representative and the leader of the party on that side. a will was found among cæsar's effects, and when the will was opened it appeared that large sums of money were left to the roman people, and other large amounts to a nephew of the deceased, named octavius, who will be more particularly spoken of hereafter. antony was named in the will as the executor of it. this and other circumstances seemed to authorize him to come forward as the head and the leader of the cæsar party. brutus and cassius, who remained openly in the city after their desperate deed had been performed, were the acknowledged leaders of the other party; while the mass of the people were at first so astounded at the magnitude and suddenness of the revolution which the open and public assassination of a roman emperor by a roman senate denoted, that they knew not what to say or do. in fact, the killing of julius cæsar, considering the exalted position which he occupied, the rank and station of the men who perpetrated the deed, and the very extraordinary publicity of the scene in which the act was performed, was, doubtless, the most conspicuous and most appalling case of assassination that has ever occurred. the whole population of rome seemed for some days to be amazed and stupefied by the tidings. at length, however, parties began to be more distinctly formed. the lines of demarkation between them were gradually drawn, and men began to arrange themselves more and more unequivocally on the opposite sides. for a short time the supremacy of antony over the cæsar party was readily acquiesced in and allowed. at length, however, and before his arrangements were finally matured, he found that he had two formidable competitors upon his own side. these were octavius and lepidus. octavius, who was the nephew of cæsar, already alluded to, was a very accomplished and elegant young man, now about nineteen years of age. he was the son of julius cæsar's niece.[ ] he had always been a great favorite with his uncle. every possible attention had been paid to his education, and he had been advanced by cæsar, already, to positions of high importance in public life. cæsar, in fact, adopted him as his son, and made him his heir. at the time of cæsar's death he was at apollonia, a city of illyricum, north of greece. the troops under his command there offered to march at once with him, if he wished it, to rome, and avenge his uncle's death. octavius, after some hesitation, concluded that it would be most prudent for him to proceed thither first himself, alone, as a private person, and demand his rights as his uncle's heir, according to the provisions of the will. he accordingly did so. he found, on his arrival, that the will, the property, the books and parchments, and the substantial power of the government, were all in antony's hands. antony, instead of putting octavius into possession of his property and rights, found various pretexts for evasion and delay. octavius was too young yet, he said, to assume such weighty responsibilities. he was himself also too much pressed with the urgency of public affairs to attend to the business of the will. with these and similar excuses as his justification, antony seemed inclined to pay no regard whatever to octavius's claims. octavius, young as he was, possessed a character that was marked with great intelligence, spirit, and resolution. he soon made many powerful friends in the city of rome and among the roman senate. it became a serious question whether he or antony would gain the greatest ascendency in the party of cæsar's friends. the contest for this ascendency was, in fact, protracted for two or three years, and led to a vast complication of intrigues, and maneuvers, and civil wars, which can not, however, be here particularly detailed. the other competitor which antony had to contend with was a distinguished roman general named lepidus. lepidus was an officer of the army, in very high command at the time of cæsar's death. he was present in the senate chamber on the day of the assassination. he stole secretly away when he saw that the deed was done, and repaired to the camp of the army without the city and immediately assumed the command of the forces. this gave him great power, and in the course of the contests which subsequently ensued between antony and octavius, he took an active part, and held in some measure the balance between them. at length the contest was finally closed by a coalition of the three rivals. finding that they could not either of them gain a decided victory over the others, they combined together, and formed the celebrated _triumvirate_, which continued afterward for some time to wield the supreme command in the roman world. in forming this league of reconciliation, the three rivals held their conference on an island situated in one of the branches of the po, in the north of italy. they manifested extreme jealousy and suspicion of each other in coming to this interview. two bridges were built leading to the island, one from each bank of the stream. the army of antony was drawn up upon one side of the river, and that of octavius upon the other. lepidus went first to the island by one of the bridges. after examining the ground carefully, to make himself sure that it contained no ambuscade, he made a signal to the other generals, who then came over, each advancing by his own bridge, and accompanied by three hundred guards, who remained upon the bridge to secure a retreat for their master in case of treachery. the conference lasted three days, at the expiration of which time the articles were all agreed upon and signed. this league being formed, the three confederates turned their united force against the party of the conspirators. of this party brutus and cassius were still at the head. the scene of the contests between octavius, antony, and lepidus had been chiefly italy and the other central countries of europe. brutus and cassius, on the other hand, had gone across the adriatic sea into the east immediately after cæsar's assassination. they were now in asia minor, and were employed in concentrating their forces, forming alliances with the various eastern powers, raising troops, bringing over to their side the roman legions which were stationed in that quarter of the world, seizing magazines, and exacting contributions from all who could be induced to favor their cause. among other embassages which they sent, one went to egypt to demand aid from cleopatra. cleopatra, however, was resolved to join the other side in the contest. it was natural that she should feel grateful to cæsar for his efforts and sacrifices in her behalf, and that she should be inclined to favor the cause of his friends. accordingly, instead of sending troops to aid brutus and cassius, as they had desired her to do, she immediately fitted out an expedition to proceed to the coast of asia, with a view of rendering all the aid in her power to antony's cause. cassius, on his part, finding that cleopatra was determined on joining his enemies, immediately resolved on proceeding at once to egypt and taking possession of the country. he also stationed a military force at tænarus, the southern promontory of greece, to watch for and intercept the fleet of cleopatra as soon as it should appear on the european shores. all these plans, however--both those which cleopatra formed against cassius, and those which cassius formed against her--failed of accomplishment. cleopatra's fleet encountered a terrible storm, which dispersed and destroyed it. a small remnant was driven upon the coast of africa, but nothing could be saved which could be made available for the purpose intended. as for cassius's intended expedition to egypt, it was not carried into effect. the dangers which began now to threaten him from the direction of italy and rome were so imminent, that, at brutus's urgent request, he gave up the egyptian plan, and the two generals concentrated their forces to meet the armies of the triumvirate which were now rapidly advancing to attack them. they passed for this purpose across the hellespont from sestos to abydos, and entered thrace.[ ] after various marches and countermarches, and a long succession of those maneuvers by which two powerful armies, approaching a contest, endeavor each to gain some position of advantage against the other, the various bodies of troops belonging, respectively, to the two powers, came into the vicinity of each other near philippi. brutus and cassius arrived here first. there was a plain in the neighborhood of the city, with a rising ground in a certain portion of it. brutus took possession of this elevation, and intrenched himself there. cassius posted his forces about three miles distant, near the sea. there was a line of intrenchments between the two camps, which formed a chain of communication by which the positions of the two commanders were connected. the armies were thus very advantageously posted. they had the river strymon and a marsh on the left of the ground that they occupied, while the plain was before them, and the sea behind. here they awaited the arrival of their foes. antony, who was at this time at amphipolis, a city not far distant from philippi, learning that brutus and cassius had taken their positions in anticipation of an attack, advanced immediately and encamped upon the plain. octavius was detained by sickness at the city of dyrrachium, not very far distant. antony waited for him. it was ten days before he came. at length he arrived, though in coming he had to be borne upon a litter, being still too sick to travel in any other way. antony approached, and established his camp opposite to that of cassius, near the sea, while octavius took post opposite to brutus. the four armies then paused, contemplating the probable results of the engagement that was about to ensue. the forces on the two sides were nearly equal; but on the republican side, that is, on the part of brutus and cassius, there was great inconvenience and suffering for want of a sufficient supply of provisions and stores. there was some difference of opinion between brutus and cassius in respect to what it was best for them to do. brutus was inclined to give the enemy battle. cassius was reluctant to do so, since, under the circumstances in which they were placed, he considered it unwise to hazard, as they necessarily must do, the whole success of their cause to the chances of a single battle. a council of war was convened, and the various officers were asked to give their opinions. in this conference, one of the officers having recommended to postpone the conflict to the next winter, brutus asked him what advantage he hoped to attain by such delay. "if i gain nothing else," replied the officer, "i shall live so much the longer." this answer touched cassius's pride and military sense of honor. rather than concur in a counsel which was thus, on the part of one of its advocates at least, dictated by what he considered an inglorious love of life, he preferred to retract his opinion. it was agreed by the council that the army should maintain its ground and give the enemy battle. the officers then repaired to their respective camps. brutus was greatly pleased at this decision. to fight the battle had been his original desire, and as his counsels had prevailed, he was, of course, gratified with the prospect for the morrow. he arranged a sumptuous entertainment in his tent, and invited all the officers of his division of the army to sup with him. the party spent the night in convivial pleasures, and in mutual congratulations at the prospect of the victory which, as they believed, awaited them on the morrow. brutus entertained his guests with brilliant conversation all the evening, and inspired them with his own confident anticipations of success in the conflict which was to ensue. cassius, on the other hand, in his camp by the sea, was silent and desponding. he supped privately with a few intimate friends. on rising from the table, he took one of his officers aside, and, pressing his hand, said to him that he felt great misgivings in respect to the result of the contest. "it is against my judgment," said he, "that we thus hazard the liberty of rome on the event of one battle, fought under such circumstances as these. whatever is the result, i wish you to bear me witness hereafter that i was forced into this measure by circumstances that i could not control. i suppose, however, that i ought to take courage, notwithstanding the reasons that i have for these gloomy forebodings. let us, therefore, hope for the best; and come and sup with me again to-morrow night. to-morrow is my birth-day." the next morning, the scarlet mantle--the customary signal displayed in roman camps on the morning of a day of battle--was seen at the tops of the tents of the two commanding generals, waving there in the air like a banner. while the troops, in obedience to this signal, were preparing themselves for the conflict, the two generals went to meet each other at a point midway between their two encampments, for a final consultation and agreement in respect to the arrangements of the day. when this business was concluded, and they were about to separate, in order to proceed each to his own sphere of duty, cassius asked brutus what he intended to do in case the day should go against them. "we hope for the best," said he, "and pray that the gods may grant us the victory in this most momentous crisis. but we must remember that it is the greatest and the most momentous of human affairs that are always the most uncertain, and we can not foresee what is to-day to be the result of the battle. if it goes against us, what do you intend to do? do you intend to escape, or to die?" "when i was a young man," said brutus, in reply, "and looked at this subject only as a question of theory, i thought it wrong for a man ever to take his own life. however great the evils that threatened him, and however desperate his condition, i considered it his duty to live, and to wait patiently for better times. but now, placed in the position in which i am, i see the subject in a different light. if we do not gain the battle this day, i shall consider all hope and possibility of saving our country forever gone, and i shall not leave the field of battle alive." cassius, in his despondency, had made the same resolution for himself before, and he was rejoiced to hear brutus utter these sentiments. he grasped his colleague's hand with a countenance expressive of the greatest animation and pleasure, and bade him farewell, saying, "we will go out boldly to face the enemy. for we are certain either that we shall conquer them, or that we shall have nothing to fear from their victory over us." cassius's dejection, and the tendency of his mind to take a despairing view of the prospects of the cause in which he was engaged, were owing, in some measure, to certain unfavorable omens which he had observed. these omens, though really frivolous and wholly unworthy of attention, seem to have had great influence upon him, notwithstanding his general intelligence, and the remarkable strength and energy of his character. they were as follows: in offering certain sacrifices, he was to wear, according to the usage prescribed on such occasions, a garland of flowers, and it happened that the officer who brought the garland, by mistake or accident, presented it wrong side before. again, in some procession which was formed, and in which a certain image of gold, made in honor of him, was borne, the bearer of it stumbled and fell, and the image was thrown upon the ground. this was a very dark presage of impending calamity. then a great number of vultures and other birds of prey were seen, for a number of days before the battle, hovering over the roman army; and several swarms of bees were found within the precincts of the camp. so alarming was this last indication, that the officers altered the line of the intrenchments so as to shut out the ill-omened spot from the camp. these and other such things had great influence upon the mind of cassius, in convincing him that some great disaster was impending over him. nor was brutus himself without warnings of this character, though they seem to have had less power to produce any serious impression upon his mind than in the case of cassius. the most extraordinary warning which brutus received, according to the story of his ancient historians, was by a supernatural apparition which he saw, some time before, while he was in asia minor. he was encamped near the city of sardis at that time. he was always accustomed to sleep very little, and would often, it was said, when all his officers had retired, and the camp was still, sit alone in his tent, sometimes reading, and sometimes revolving the anxious cares which were always pressing upon his mind. one night he was thus alone in his tent, with a small lamp burning before him, sitting lost in thought, when he suddenly heard a movement as of some one entering the tent. he looked up, and saw a strange, unearthly, and monstrous shape, which appeared to have just entered the door and was coming toward him. the spirit gazed upon him as it advanced, but it did not speak. brutus, who was not much accustomed to fear, boldly demanded of the apparition who and what it was, and what had brought it there. "i am your evil spirit," said the apparition. "i shall meet you at philippi." "then, it seems," said brutus, "that, at any rate, i shall see you again." the spirit made no reply to this, but immediately vanished. brutus arose, went to the door of his tent, summoned the sentinels, and awakened the soldiers that were sleeping near. the sentinels had seen nothing; and, after the most diligent search, no trace of the mysterious visitor could be found. the next morning brutus related to cassius the occurrence which he had witnessed. cassius, though very sensitive, it seems, to the influence of omens affecting himself, was quite philosophical in his views in respect to those of other men. he argued very rationally with brutus to convince him that the vision which he had seen was only a phantom of sleep, taking its form and character from the ideas and images which the situation in which brutus was then placed, and the fatigue and anxiety which he had endured, would naturally impress upon his mind. but to return to the battle. brutus fought against octavius; while cassius, two or three miles distant, encountered antony, that having been, as will be recollected, the disposition of the respective armies and their encampments upon the plain. brutus was triumphantly successful in his part of the field. his troops defeated the army of octavius, and got possession of his camp. the men forced their way into octavius's tent, and pierced the litter in which they supposed that the sick general was lying through and through with their spears. but the object of their desperate hostility was not there. he had been borne away by his guards a few minutes before, and no one knew what had become of him. the result of the battle was, however, unfortunately for those whose adventures we are now more particularly following, very different in cassius's part of the field. when brutus, after completing the conquest of his own immediate foes, returned to his elevated camp, he looked toward the camp of cassius, and was surprised to find that the tents had disappeared. some of the officers around perceived weapons glancing and glittering in the sun in the place where cassius's tents ought to appear. brutus now suspected the truth, which was, that cassius had been defeated, and his camp had fallen into the hands of the enemy. he immediately collected together as large a force as he could command, and marched to the relief of his colleague. he found him, at last, posted with a small body of guards and attendants upon the top of a small elevation to which he had fled for safety. cassius saw the troop of horsemen which brutus sent forward coming toward him, and supposed that it was a detachment from antony's army advancing to capture him. he, however, sent a messenger forward to meet them, and ascertain whether they were friends or foes. the messenger, whose name was titinius, rode down. the horsemen recognized titinius, and, riding up eagerly around him, they dismounted from their horses to congratulate him on his safety, and to press him with inquiries in respect to the result of the battle and the fate of his master. cassius, seeing all this, but not seeing it very distinctly, supposed that the troop of horsemen were enemies, and that they had surrounded titinius, and had cut him down or made him prisoner. he considered it certain, therefore, that all was now finally lost. accordingly, in execution of a plan which he had previously formed, he called a servant, named pindarus, whom he directed to follow him, and went into a tent which was near. when brutus and his horsemen came up, they entered the tent. they found no living person within; but the dead body of cassius was there, the head being totally dissevered from it. pindarus was never afterward to be found. brutus was overwhelmed with grief at the death of his colleague; he was also oppressed by it with a double burden of responsibility and care, since now the whole conduct of affairs devolved upon him alone. he found himself surrounded with difficulties which became more and more embarrassing every day. at length he was compelled to fight a second battle. the details of the contest itself we can not give, but the result of it was, that, notwithstanding the most unparalleled and desperate exertions made by brutus to keep his men to the work, and to maintain his ground, his troops were borne down and overwhelmed by the irresistible onsets of his enemies, and his cause was irretrievably and hopelessly ruined. when brutus found that all was lost, he allowed himself to be conducted off the field by a small body of guards, who, in their retreat, broke through the ranks of the enemy on a side where they saw that they should meet with the least resistance. they were, however, pursued by a squadron of horse, the horsemen being eager to make brutus a prisoner. in this emergency, one of brutus's friends, named lucilius, conceived the design of pretending to be brutus, and, as such, surrendering himself a prisoner. this plan he carried into effect. when the troop came up, he called out for quarter, said that he was brutus, and begged them to spare his life, and to take him to antony. the men did so, rejoiced at having, as they imagined, secured so invaluable a prize. in the mean time, the real brutus pressed on to make his escape. he crossed a brook which came in his way, and entered into a little dell, which promised to afford a hiding-place, since it was encumbered with precipitous rocks and shaded with trees. a few friends and officers accompanied brutus in his flight. night soon came on, and he lay down in a little recess under a shelving rock, exhausted with fatigue and suffering. then, raising his eyes to heaven, he imprecated, in lines quoted from a greek poet, the just judgment of god upon the foes who were at that hour triumphing in what he considered the ruin of his country. he then, in his anguish and despair, enumerated by name the several friends and companions whom he had seen fall that day in battle, mourning the loss of each with bitter grief. in the mean time, night was coming on, and the party, concealed thus in the wild dell, were destitute and unsheltered. hungry and thirsty, and spent with fatigue as they were, there seemed to be no prospect for them of either rest or refreshment. finally they sent one of their number to steal softly back to the rivulet which they had crossed in their retreat, to bring them some water. the soldier took his helmet to bring the water in, for want of any other vessel. while brutus was drinking the water which they brought, a noise was heard in the opposite direction. two of the officers were sent to ascertain the cause. they came back soon, reporting that there was a party of the enemy in that quarter. they asked where the water was which had been brought. brutus told them that it had all been drank, but that he would send immediately for more. the messenger went accordingly to the brook again, but he came back very soon, wounded and bleeding, and reported that the enemy was close upon them on that side too, and that he had narrowly escaped with his life. the apprehensions of brutus's party were greatly increased by these tidings: it was evident that all hope of being able to remain long concealed where they were must fast disappear. one of the officers, named statilius, then proposed to make the attempt to find his way out of the snare in which they had become involved. he would go, he said, as cautiously as possible, avoiding all parties of the enemy, and being favored by the darkness of the night, he hoped to find some way of retreat. if he succeeded, he would display a torch on a distant elevation which he designated, so that the party in the glen, on seeing the light, might be assured of his safety. he would then return and guide them all through the danger, by the way which he should have discovered. this plan was approved, and statilius accordingly departed. in due time the light was seen burning at the place which had been pointed out, and indicating that statilius had accomplished his undertaking. brutus and his party were greatly cheered by the new hope which this result awakened. they began to watch and listen for their messenger's return. they watched and waited long, but he did not come. on the way back he was intercepted and slain. when at length all hope that he would return was finally abandoned, some of the party, in the course of the despairing consultations which the unhappy fugitives held with one another, said that they _must not_ remain any longer where they were, but must make their escape from that spot at all hazards. "yes," said brutus, "we must indeed make our escape from our present situation, but we must do it with our hands, and not with our feet." he meant by this that the only means now left to them to evade their enemies was self-destruction. when his friends understood that this was his meaning, and that he was resolved to put this design into execution in his own case, they were overwhelmed with sorrow. brutus took them, one by one, by the hand and bade them farewell. he thanked them for their fidelity in adhering to his cause to the last, and said that it was a source of great comfort and satisfaction to him that all his friends had proved so faithful and true. "i do not complain of my hard fate," he added, "so far as i myself am concerned. i mourn only for my unhappy country. as to myself, i think that my condition even now is better than that of my enemies; for, though i die, posterity will do me justice, and i shall enjoy forever the honor which virtue and integrity deserve; while they, though they live, live only to reap the bitter fruits of injustice and of tyranny. "after i am gone," he continued, addressing his friends, as before, "think no longer of me, but take care of yourselves. antony, i am sure, will be satisfied with cassius's death and mine. he will not be disposed to pursue you vindictively any longer. make peace with him on the best terms that you can." brutus then asked first one and then another of his friends to aid him in the last duty, as he seems to have considered it, of destroying his life; but one after another declared that they could not do any thing to assist him in carrying into effect so dreadful a determination. finally, he took with him an old and long-tried friend named strato, and went away a little, apart from the rest. here he solicited once more the favor which had been refused him before--begging that strato would hold out his sword. strato still refused. brutus then called one of his slaves. upon this strato declared that he would do any thing rather than that brutus should die by the hand of a slave. he took the sword, and with his right hand held it extended in the air. with the left hand he covered his eyes, that he might not witness the horrible spectacle. brutus rushed upon the point of the weapon with such fatal force that he fell and immediately expired. thus ended the great and famous battle of philippi, celebrated in history as marking the termination of the great conflict between the friends and the enemies of cæsar, which agitated the world so deeply after the conqueror's death. this battle established the ascendency of antony, and made him for a time the most conspicuous man, as cleopatra was the most conspicuous woman, in the world. chapter x. cleopatra and antony. 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 cæsar, 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 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 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 cæsar--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 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 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 cæsar'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 cæsar'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 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 cæsar'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 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 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. 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. 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. [illustration: the entertainments at tarsus.] 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 cæsar'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,[ ] 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. 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 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. 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 as 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. chapter xi. the battle of actium. cleopatra, in parting with antony as described in the last chapter, lost him for two or three years. during this time antony himself was involved in a great variety of difficulties and dangers, and passed through many eventful scenes, which, however, can not here be described in detail. his life, during this period, was full of vicissitude and excitement, and was spent probably in alternations of remorse for the past and anxiety for the future. on landing at tyre, he was at first extremely perplexed whether to go to asia minor or to rome. his presence was imperiously demanded in both places. the war which fulvia had fomented was caused, in part, by the rivalry of octavius, and the collision of his interests with those of her husband. antony was very angry with her for having managed his affairs in such a way as to bring about a war. after a time antony and fulvia met at athens. fulvia had retreated to that city, and was very seriously sick there, either from bodily disease, or from the influence of long-continued anxiety, vexation, and distress. they had a stormy meeting. neither party was disposed to exercise any mercy toward the other. antony left his wife rudely and roughly, after loading her with reproaches. a short time afterward, she sank down in sorrow to the grave. the death of fulvia was an event which proved to be of advantage to antony. it opened the way to a reconciliation between him and octavius. fulvia had been extremely active in opposing octavius's designs, and in organizing plans for resisting him. he felt, therefore, a special hostility against her, and, through her, against antony. now, however, that she was dead, the way seemed to be in some sense opened for a reconciliation. octavius had a sister, octavia, who had been the wife of a roman general named marcellus. she was a very beautiful and a very accomplished woman, and of a spirit very different from that of fulvia. she was gentle, affectionate, and kind, a lover of peace and harmony, and not at all disposed, like fulvia, to assert and maintain her influence over others by an overbearing and violent demeanor. octavia's husband died about this time, and, in the course of the movements and negotiations between antony and octavius, the plan was proposed of a marriage between antony and octavia, which, it was thought, would ratify and confirm the reconciliation. this proposal was finally agreed upon. antony was glad to find so easy a mode of settling his difficulties. the people of rome, too, and the authorities there, knowing that the peace of the world depended upon the terms on which these two men stood with regard to each other, were extremely desirous that this arrangement should be carried into effect. there was a law of the commonwealth forbidding the marriage of a widow within a specified period after the death of her husband. that period had not, in octavia's case, yet expired. there was, however, so strong a desire that no obstacle should be allowed to prevent this proposed union, or even to occasion delay, that the law was altered expressly for this case, and antony and octavia were married. the empire was divided between octavius and antony, octavius receiving the western portion as his share, while the eastern was assigned to antony. it is not probable that antony felt any very strong affection for his new wife, beautiful and gentle as she was. a man, in fact, who had led such a life as his had been, must have become by this time incapable of any strong and pure attachment. he, however, was pleased with the novelty of his acquisition, and seemed to forget for a time the loss of cleopatra. he remained with octavia a year. after that he went away on certain military enterprises which kept him some time from her. he returned again, and again he went away. all this time octavia's influence over him and over her brother was of the most salutary and excellent character. she soothed their animosities, quieted their suspicions and jealousies, and at one time, when they were on the brink of open war, she effected a reconciliation between them by the most courageous and energetic, and at the same time, gentle and unassuming efforts. at the time of this danger she was with her husband in greece; but she persuaded him to send her to her brother at rome, saying that she was confident that she could arrange a settlement of the difficulties impending. antony allowed her to go. she proceeded to rome, and procured an interview with her brother in the presence of his two principal officers of state. here she pleaded her husband's cause with tears in her eyes; she defended his conduct, explained what seemed to be against him, and entreated her brother not to take such a course as should cast her down from being the happiest of women to being the most miserable. "consider the circumstances of my case," said she. "the eyes of the world are upon me. of the two most powerful men in the world, i am the wife of one and the sister of another. if you allow rash counsels to go on and war to ensue, i am hopelessly ruined; for, whichever is conquered, my husband or my brother, my own happiness will be for ever gone." octavius sincerely loved his sister, and he was so far softened by her entreaties that he consented to appoint an interview with antony in order to see if their difficulties could be settled. this interview was accordingly held. the two generals came to a river, where, at the opposite banks, each embarked in a boat, and, being rowed out toward each other, they met in the middle of the stream. a conference ensued, at which all the questions at issue were, for a time at least, very happily arranged. antony, however, after a time, began to become tired of his wife, and to sigh for cleopatra once more. he left octavia at rome and proceeded to the eastward, under pretense of attending to the affairs of that portion of the empire; but, instead of doing this, he went to alexandria, and there renewed again his former intimacy with the egyptian queen. octavius was very indignant at this. his former hostility to antony, which had been in a measure appeased by the kind influence of octavia, now broke forth anew, and was heightened by the feeling of resentment naturally awakened by his sister's wrongs. public sentiment in rome, too, was setting very strongly against antony. lampoons were written against him to ridicule him and cleopatra, and the most decided censures were passed upon his conduct. octavia was universally beloved, and the sympathy which was every where felt for her increased and heightened very much the popular indignation which was felt against the man who could wrong so deeply such sweetness, and gentleness, and affectionate fidelity as hers. after remaining for some time in alexandria, and renewing his connection and intimacy with cleopatra, antony went away again, crossing the sea into asia, with the intention of prosecuting certain military undertakings there which imperiously demanded his attention. his plan was to return as soon as possible to egypt after the object of his expedition should be accomplished. he found, however, that he could not bear even a temporary absence from cleopatra. his mind dwelled so much upon her, and upon the pleasures which he had enjoyed with her in egypt, and he longed so much to see her again, that he was wholly unfit for the discharge of his duties in the camp. he became timid, inefficient, and remiss, and almost every thing that he undertook ended disastrously. the army, who understood perfectly well the reason of their commander's remissness and consequent ill fortune, were extremely indignant at his conduct, and the camp was filled with suppressed murmurs and complaints. antony, however, like other persons in his situation, was blind to all these indications of dissatisfaction; probably he would have disregarded them if he had observed them. at length, finding that he could bear his absence from his mistress no longer, he set out to march across the country, in the depth of the winter, to the sea-shore, to a point where he had sent for cleopatra to come to join him. the army endured incredible hardships and exposures in this march. when antony had once commenced the journey, he was so impatient to get forward that he compelled his troops to advance with a rapidity greater than their strength would bear. they were, besides, not provided with proper tents or with proper supplies of provision. they were often obliged, therefore, after a long and fatiguing march during the day, to bivouac at night in the open air among the mountains, with scanty means of appeasing their hunger, and very little shelter from the cold rain, or from the storms of driving snow. eight thousand men died on this march, from cold, fatigue, and exposure; a greater sacrifice, perhaps, than had ever been made before to the mere ardor and impatience of a lover. when antony reached the shore, he advanced to a certain sea-port, near sidon, where cleopatra was to land. at the time of his arrival but a small part of his army was left, and the few men that survived were in a miserably destitute condition. antony's eagerness to see cleopatra became more and more excited as the time drew nigh. she did not come so soon as he had expected, and during the delay he seemed to pine away under the influence of love and sorrow. he was silent, absent-minded, and sad. he had no thoughts for any thing but the coming of cleopatra, and felt no interest in any other plans. he watched for her incessantly, and would sometimes leave his place at the table, in the midst of the supper, and go down alone to the shore, where he would stand gazing out upon the sea, and saying mournfully to himself, "why does not she come?" the animosity and the ridicule which these things awakened against him, on the part of the army, were extreme; but he was so utterly infatuated that he disregarded all the manifestations of public sentiment around him, and continued to allow his mind to be wholly engrossed with the single idea of cleopatra's coming. she arrived at last. she brought a great supply of clothes and other necessaries for the use of antony's army, so that her coming not only gratified his love, but afforded him, also, a very essential relief, in respect to the military difficulties in which he was involved. after some time spent in the enjoyment of the pleasure which being thus reunited to cleopatra afforded him, antony began again to think of the affairs of his government, which every month more and more imperiously demanded his attention. he began to receive urgent calls from various quarters, urging him to action. in the mean time, octavia--who had been all this while waiting in distress and anxiety at rome, hearing continually the most gloomy accounts of her husband's affairs, and the most humiliating tidings in respect to his infatuated devotion to cleopatra--resolved to make one more effort to save him. she interceded with her brother to allow her to raise troops and to collect supplies, and then proceed to the eastward to re-enforce him. octavius consented to this. he, in fact, assisted octavia in making her preparations. it is said, however, that he was influenced in this plan by his confident belief that this noble attempt of his sister to reclaim her husband would fail, and that, by the failure of it, antony would be put in the wrong, in the estimation of the roman people, more absolutely and hopelessly than ever, and that the way would thus be prepared for his complete and final destruction. octavia was rejoiced to obtain her brother's aid to her undertaking, whatever the motive might be which induced him to afford it. she accordingly levied a considerable body of troops, raised a large sum of money, provided clothes, and tents, and military stores for the army; and when all was ready, she left italy and put to sea, having previously dispatched a messenger to her husband to inform him that she was coming. cleopatra began now to be afraid that she was to lose antony again, and she at once began to resort to the usual artifices employed in such cases, in order to retain her power over him. she said nothing, but assumed the appearance of one pining under the influence of some secret suffering or sorrow. she contrived to be often surprised in tears. in such cases she would hastily brush her tears away, and assume a countenance of smiles and good humor, as if making every effort to be happy, though really oppressed with a heavy burden of anxiety and grief. when antony was near her she would seem overjoyed at his presence, and gaze upon him with an expression of the most devoted fondness. when absent from him, she spent her time alone, always silent and dejected, and often in tears; and she took care that the secret sorrows and sufferings that she endured should be duly made known to antony, and that he should understand that they were all occasioned by her love for him, and by the danger which she apprehended that he was about to leave her. the friends and secret agents of cleopatra, who reported these things to antony, made, moreover, direct representations to him, for the purpose of inclining his mind in her favor. they had, in fact, the astonishing audacity to argue that cleopatra's claims upon antony for a continuance of his love were paramount to those of octavia. she, that is, octavia, had been his wife, they said, only for a very short time. cleopatra had been most devotedly attached to him for many years. octavia was married to him, they alleged, not under the impulse of love, but from political considerations alone, to please her brother, and to ratify and confirm a political league made with him. cleopatra, on the other hand, had given herself up to him in the most absolute and unconditional manner, under the influence solely of a personal affection which she could not control. she had surrendered and sacrificed every thing to him. for him she had lost her good name, alienated the affections of her subjects, made herself the object of reproach and censure to all mankind, and now she had left her native land to come and join him in his adverse fortunes. considering how much she had done, and suffered, and sacrificed for his sake, it would be extreme and unjustifiable cruelty in him to forsake her now. she never would survive such an abandonment. her whole soul was so wrapped up in him, that she would pine away and die if he were now to forsake her. antony was distressed and agitated beyond measure by the entanglements in which he found that he was involved. his duty, his inclination perhaps, certainly his ambition, and every dictate of prudence and policy, required that he should break away from these snares at once and go to meet octavia. but the spell that bound him was too mighty to be dissolved. he yielded to cleopatra's sorrows and tears. he dispatched a messenger to octavia, who had by this time reached athens, in greece, directing her not to come any farther. octavia, who seemed incapable of resentment or anger against her husband, sent back to ask what she should do with the troops, and money, and the military stores which she was bringing. antony directed her to leave them in greece. octavia did so, and mournfully returned to her home. as soon as she arrived at rome, octavius, her brother, whose indignation was now thoroughly aroused at the baseness of antony, sent to his sister to say that she must leave antony's house and come to him. a proper self-respect, he said, forbade her remaining any longer under the roof of such a man. octavia replied that she would not leave her husband's house. that house was her post of duty, whatever her husband might do, and there she would remain. she accordingly retired within the precincts of her old home, and devoted herself in patient and uncomplaining sorrow to the care of the family and the children. among these children was one young son of antony's, born during his marriage with her predecessor fulvia. in the mean time, while octavia was thus faithfully though mournfully fulfilling her duties as wife and mother, in her husband's house at rome, antony himself had gone with cleopatra to alexandria, and was abandoning himself once more to a life of guilty pleasure there. the greatness of mind which this beautiful and devoted wife thus displayed, attracted the admiration of all mankind. it produced, however, one other effect, which octavia must have greatly deprecated. it aroused a strong and universal feeling of indignation against the unworthy object toward whom this extraordinary magnanimity was displayed. in the mean time, antony gave himself up wholly to cleopatra's influence and control, and managed all the affairs of the roman empire in the east in the way best fitted to promote her aggrandizement and honor. he made alexandria his capital, celebrated triumphs there, arranged ostentatious expeditions into asia and syria with cleopatra and her train, gave her whole provinces as presents, and exalted her two sons, alexander and ptolemy, children born during the period of his first acquaintance with her, to positions of the highest rank and station, as his own acknowledged sons. the consequences of these and similar measures at rome were fatal to antony's character and standing. octavius reported every thing to the roman senate and people, and made antony's misgovernment and his various misdemeanors the ground of the heaviest accusations against him. antony, hearing of these things, sent his agents to rome and made accusations against octavius; but these counter accusations were of no avail. public sentiment was very strong and decided against him at the capital, and octavius began to prepare for war. antony perceived that he must prepare to defend himself. cleopatra entered into the plans which he formed for this purpose with great ardor. antony began to levy troops, and collect and equip galleys and ships of war, and to make requisitions of money and military stores from all the eastern provinces and kingdoms. cleopatra put all the resources of egypt at his disposal. she furnished him with immense sums of money, and with an inexhaustible supply of corn, which she procured for this purpose from her dominions in the valley of the nile. the various divisions of the immense armament which was thus provided for were ordered to rendezvous at ephesus, where antony and cleopatra were awaiting to receive them, having proceeded there when their arrangements in egypt were completed, and they were ready to commence the campaign. when all was ready for the expedition to set sail from ephesus, it was antony's judgment that it would be best for cleopatra to return to egypt, and leave him to go forth with the fleet to meet octavius alone. cleopatra was, however, determined not to go away. she did not dare to leave antony at all to himself, for fear that in some way or other a peace would be effected between himself and octavius, which would result in his returning to octavia and abandoning _her_. she accordingly contrived to persuade antony to retain her with him, by bribing his chief counselor to advise him to do so. his counselor's name was canidius. canidius, having received cleopatra's money, while yet he pretended to be wholly disinterested in his advice, represented to antony that it would not be reasonable to send cleopatra away, and deprive her of all participation in the glory of the war, when she was defraying so large a part of the expense of it. besides, a large portion of the army consisted of egyptian troops, who would feel discouraged and disheartened if cleopatra were to leave them, and would probably act far less efficiently in the conflict than they would do if animated by the presence of their queen. then, moreover, such a woman as cleopatra was not to be considered, as many women would be, an embarrassment and a source of care to a military expedition which she might join, but a very efficient counselor and aid to it. she was, he said, a very sagacious, energetic, and powerful queen, accustomed to the command of armies and to the management of affairs of state, and her aid in the conduct of the expedition might be expected to conduce very materially to its success. antony was easily won by such persuasions as these, and it was at length decided that cleopatra should accompany him. antony then ordered the fleet to move forward to the island of samos.[ ] here it was brought to anchor and remained for some time, waiting for the coming in of new re-enforcements, and for the completion of the other arrangements. antony, as if becoming more and more infatuated as he approached the brink of his ruin, spent his time while the expedition remained at samos, not in maturing his plans and perfecting his arrangements for the tremendous conflict which was approaching, but in festivities, games, revelings, and every species of riot and dissolute excess. this, however, is not surprising. men almost always, when in a situation analogous to his, fly to similar means of protecting themselves, in some small degree, from the pangs of remorse, and from the forebodings which stand ready to terrify and torment them at every instant in which these gloomy specters are not driven away by intoxication and revelry. at least antony found it so. accordingly, an immense company of players, tumblers, fools, jesters, and mountebanks were ordered to assemble at samos, and to devote themselves with all zeal to the amusement of antony's court. the island was one universal scene of riot and revelry. people were astonished at such celebrations and displays, wholly unsuitable, as they considered them, to the occasion. if such are the rejoicings, said they, which antony celebrates before going into the battle, what festivities will he contrive on his return, joyous enough to express his pleasure if he shall gain the victory? after a time, antony and cleopatra, with a magnificent train of attendants, left samos, and, passing across the Ægean sea, landed in greece, and advanced to athens; while the fleet, proceeding westward from samos, passed around tænarus, the southern promontory of greece, and then moved northward along the western coast of the peninsula. cleopatra wished to go to athens for a special reason. it was there that octavia had stopped on her journey toward her husband with re-enforcements and aid; and while she was there, the people of athens, pitying her sad condition, and admiring the noble spirit of mind which she displayed in her misfortunes, had paid her great attention, and during her stay among them had bestowed upon her many honors. cleopatra now wished to go to the same place, and to triumph over her rival there, by making so great a display of her wealth and magnificence, and of her ascendency over the mind of antony, as should entirely transcend and outshine the more unassuming pretensions of octavia. she was not willing, it seems, to leave to the unhappy wife whom she had so cruelly wronged even the possession of a place in the hearts of the people of this foreign city, but must go and enviously strive to efface the impression which injured innocence had made, by an ostentatious exhibition of the triumphant prosperity of her own shameless wickedness. she succeeded well in her plans. the people of athens were amazed and bewildered at the immense magnificence that cleopatra exhibited before them. she distributed vast sums of money among the people. the city, in return, decreed to her the most exalted honors. they sent a solemn embassy to her to present her with these decrees. antony himself, in the character of a citizen of athens, was one of the embassadors. cleopatra received the deputation at her palace. the reception was attended with the most splendid and imposing ceremonies. one would have supposed that cleopatra's cruel and unnatural hostility to octavia might now have been satisfied; but it was not. antony, while he was at athens, and doubtless at cleopatra's instigation, sent a messenger to rome with a notice of divorcement to octavia, and with an order that she should leave his house. octavia obeyed. she went forth from her home, taking the children with her, and bitterly lamenting her cruel destiny. in the mean time, while all these events had been transpiring in the east, octavius had been making his preparations for the coming crisis, and was now advancing with a powerful fleet across the sea. he was armed with authority from the roman senate and people, for he had obtained from them a decree deposing antony from his power. the charges made against him all related to misdemeanors and offenses arising out of his connection with cleopatra. octavius contrived to get possession of a will which antony had written before leaving rome, and which he had placed there in what he supposed a very sacred place of deposit. the custodians who had it in charge replied to octavius, when he demanded it, that they would not give it to him, but if he wished to take it they would not hinder him. octavius then took the will, and read it to the roman senate. it provided, among other things, that at his death, if his death should happen at rome, his body should be sent to alexandria to be given to cleopatra; and it evinced in other ways a degree of subserviency and devotedness to the egyptian queen which was considered wholly unworthy of a roman chief magistrate. antony was accused, too, of having plundered cities and provinces to make presents to cleopatra; of having sent a library of two hundred thousand volumes to her from pergamus, to replace the one which julius cæsar had accidentally burned; of having raised her sons, ignoble as their birth was, to high places of trust and power in the roman government, and of having in many ways compromised the dignity of a roman officer by his unworthy conduct in reference to her. he used, for example, when presiding at a judicial tribunal, to receive love-letters sent him from cleopatra, and then at once turn off his attention from the proceedings going forward before him to read the letters.[ ] sometimes he did this when sitting in the chair of state, giving audience to embassadors and princes. cleopatra probably sent these letters in at such times under the influence of a wanton disposition to show her power. at one time, as octavius said in his arguments before the roman senate, antony was hearing a cause of the greatest importance, and during a time in the progress of the cause when one of the principal orators of the city was addressing him, cleopatra came passing by, when antony suddenly arose, and, leaving the court without any ceremony, ran out to follow her. these and a thousand similar tales exhibited antony in so odious a light, that his friends forsook his cause, and his enemies gained a complete triumph. the decree was passed against him, and octavius was authorized to carry it into effect; and accordingly, while antony, with his fleet and army, was moving westward from samos and the Ægean sea, octavius was coming eastward and southward down the adriatic to meet him. in process of time, after various maneuvers and delays, the two armaments came into the vicinity of each other at a place called actium, which will be found upon the map on the western coast of epirus, north of greece. both of the commanders had powerful fleets at sea, and both had great armies upon the land. antony was strongest in land troops, but his fleet was inferior to that of octavius, and he was himself inclined to remain on the land and fight the principal battle there. but cleopatra would not consent to this. she urged him to give octavius battle at sea. the motive which induced her to do this has been supposed to be her wish to provide a more sure way of escape in case of an unfavorable issue to the conflict. she thought that in her galleys she could make sail at once across the sea to alexandria in case of defeat, whereas she knew not what would become of her if beaten at the head of an army on the land. the ablest counselors and chief officers in the army urged antony very strongly not to trust himself to the sea. to all their arguments and remonstrances, however, antony turned a deaf ear. cleopatra must be allowed to have her way. on the morning of the battle, when the ships were drawn up in array, cleopatra held the command of a division of fifty or sixty egyptian vessels, which were all completely manned, and well equipped with masts and sails. she took good care to have every thing in perfect order for flight, in case flight should prove to be necessary. with these ships she took a station in reserve, and for a time remained there a quiet witness of the battle. the ships of octavius advanced to the attack of those of antony, and the men fought from deck to deck with spears, boarding-pikes, flaming darts, and every other destructive missile which the military art had then devised. antony's ships had to contend against great disadvantages. they were not only outnumbered by those of octavius, but were far surpassed by them in the efficiency with which they were manned and armed. still, it was a very obstinate conflict. cleopatra, however, did not wait to see how it was to be finally decided. as antony's forces did not immediately gain the victory, she soon began to yield to her fears in respect to the result, and, finally, fell into a panic and resolved to fly. she ordered the oars to be manned and the sails to be hoisted, and then forcing her way through a portion of the fleet that was engaged in the contest, and throwing the vessels into confusion as she passed, she succeeded in getting to sea, and then pressed on, under full sail, down the coast to the southward. antony, as soon as he perceived that she was going, abandoning every other thought, and impelled by his insane devotedness to her, hastily called up a galley of five banks of oars, and, leaping on board of it, ordered the oarsmen to pull with all their force after cleopatra's flying squadron. cleopatra, looking back from the deck of her vessel, saw this swift galley pressing on toward her. she raised a signal at the stern of the vessel which she was in, that antony might know for which of the fifty flying ships he was to steer. guided by the signal, antony came up to the vessel, and the sailors hoisted him up the side and helped him in. cleopatra had, however, disappeared. overcome with shame and confusion, she did not dare, it seems, to meet the look of the wretched victim of her arts whom she had now irretrievably ruined. antony did not seek her. he did not speak a word. he went forward to the prow of the ship, and, throwing himself down there alone, pressed his head between his hands, and seemed stunned and stupefied, and utterly overwhelmed with horror and despair. he was, however, soon aroused from his stupor by an alarm raised on board his galley that they were pursued. he rose from his seat, seized a spear, and, on ascending to the quarter-deck, saw that there were a number of small light boats, full of men and of arms, coming up behind them, and gaining rapidly upon his galley. antony, now free for a moment from his enchantress's sway, and acting under the impulse of his own indomitable boldness and decision, instead of urging the oarsmen to press forward more rapidly in order to make good their escape, ordered the helm to be put about, and thus, turning the galley around, he faced his pursuers, and drove his ship into the midst of them. a violent conflict ensued, the din and confusion of which was increased by the shocks and collisions between the boats and the galley. in the end, the boats were beaten off, all excepting one: that one kept still hovering near, and the commander of it, who stood upon the deck, poising his spear with an aim at antony, and seeking eagerly an opportunity to throw it, seemed by his attitude and the expression of his countenance to be animated by some peculiarly bitter feeling of hostility and hate. antony asked him who he was, that dared so fiercely to threaten _him_. the man replied by giving his name, and saying that he came to avenge the death of his father. it proved that he was the son of a man whom antony had at a previous time, on some account or other, caused to be beheaded. there followed an obstinate contest between antony and this fierce assailant, in the end of which the latter was beaten off. the boats then, having succeeded in making some prizes from antony's fleet, though they had failed in capturing antony himself, gave up the pursuit and returned. antony then went back to his place, sat down in the prow, buried his face in his hands, and sank into the same condition of hopeless distress and anguish as before. when husband and wife are overwhelmed with misfortune and suffering, each instinctively seeks a refuge in the sympathy and support of the other. it is, however, far otherwise with such connections as that of antony and cleopatra. conscience, which remains calm and quiet in prosperity and sunshine, rises up with sudden and unexpected violence as soon as the hour of calamity comes; and thus, instead of mutual comfort and help, each finds in the thoughts of the other only the means of adding the horrors of remorse to the anguish of disappointment and despair. so extreme was antony's distress, that for three days he and cleopatra neither saw nor spoke to each other. she was overwhelmed with confusion and chagrin, and he was in such a condition of mental excitement that she did not dare to approach him. in a word, reason seemed to have wholly lost its sway--his mind, in the alternations of his insanity, rising sometimes to fearful excitement, in paroxysms of uncontrollable rage, and then sinking again for a time into the stupor of despair. in the mean time, the ships were passing down as rapidly as possible on the western coast of greece. when they reached tænarus, the southern promontory of the peninsula, it was necessary to pause and consider what was to be done. cleopatra's women went to antony and attempted to quiet and calm him. they brought him food. they persuaded him to see cleopatra. a great number of merchant ships from the ports along the coast gathered around antony's little fleet and offered their services. his cause, they said, was by no means desperate. the army on the land had not been beaten. it was not even certain that his fleet had been conquered. they endeavored thus to revive the ruined commander's sinking courage, and to urge him to make a new effort to retrieve his fortunes. but all was in vain. antony was sunk in a hopeless despondency. cleopatra was determined on going to egypt, and he must go too. he distributed what treasure remained at his disposal among his immediate followers and friends, and gave them advice about the means of concealing themselves until they could make peace with octavius. then, giving up all as lost, he followed cleopatra across the sea to alexandria. chapter xii. the end of cleopatra. the case of mark antony affords one of the most extraordinary examples of the power of unlawful love to lead its deluded and infatuated victim into the very jaws of open and recognized destruction that history records. cases similar in character occur by thousands in common life; but antony's, though perhaps not more striking in itself than a great multitude of others have been, is the most conspicuous instance that has ever been held up to the observation of mankind. in early life, antony was remarkable, as we have already seen, for a certain savage ruggedness of character, and for a stern and indomitable recklessness of will, so great that it seemed impossible that any thing human should be able to tame him. he was under the control, too, of an ambition so lofty and aspiring that it appeared to know no bounds; and yet we find him taken possession of, in the very midst of his career, and in the height of his prosperity and success, by a woman, and so subdued by her arts and fascinations as to yield himself wholly to her guidance, and allow himself to be led about by her entirely at her will. she displaces whatever there might have been that was noble and generous in his heart, and substitutes therefor her own principles of malice and cruelty. she extinguishes all the fires of his ambition, originally so magnificent in its aims that the world seemed hardly large enough to afford it scope, and instead of this lofty passion, fills his soul with a love of the lowest, vilest, and most ignoble pleasures. she leads him to betray every public trust, to alienate from himself all the affections of his countrymen, to repel most cruelly the kindness and devotedness of a beautiful and faithful wife, and, finally, to expel this wife and all of his own legitimate family from his house; and now, at last, she conducts him away in a most cowardly and ignoble flight from the field of his duty as a soldier--he knowing, all the time, that she is hurrying him to disgrace and destruction, and yet utterly without power to break from the control of his invisible chains. * * * * * the indignation which antony's base abandonment of his fleet and army at the battle of actium excited, over all that part of the empire which had been under his command, was extreme. there was not the slightest possible excuse for such a flight. his army, in which his greatest strength lay, remained unharmed, and even his fleet was not defeated. the ships continued the combat until night, notwithstanding the betrayal of their cause by their commander. they were at length, however, subdued. the army, also, being discouraged, and losing all motive for resistance, yielded too. in a very short time the whole country went over to octavius's side. in the mean time, cleopatra and antony, on their first return to egypt, were completely beside themselves with terror. cleopatra formed a plan for having all the treasures that she could save, and a certain number of galleys sufficient for the transportation of these treasures and a small company of friends, carried across the isthmus of suez and launched upon the red sea, in order that she might escape in that direction, and find some remote hiding-place and safe retreat on the shores of arabia or india, beyond the reach of octavius's dreaded power. she actually commenced this undertaking, and sent one or two of her galleys across the isthmus; but the arabs seized them as soon as they reached their place of destination, and killed or captured the men that had them in charge, so that this desperate scheme was soon abandoned. she and antony then finally concluded to establish themselves at alexandria, and made preparation, as well as they could, for defending themselves against octavius there. antony, when the first effects of his panic subsided, began to grow mad with vexation and resentment against all mankind. he determined that he would have nothing to do with cleopatra or with any of her friends, but went off in a fit of sullen rage, and built a hermitage in a lonely place on the island of pharos, where he lived for a time, cursing his folly and his wretched fate, and uttering the bitterest invectives against all who had been concerned in it. here tidings came continually in, informing him of the defection of one after another of his armies, of the fall of his provinces in greece and asia minor, and of the irresistible progress which octavius was now making toward universal dominion. the tidings of these disasters coming incessantly upon him kept him in a continual fever of resentment and rage. at last he became tired of his misanthropic solitude, a sort of reconciliation ensued between himself and cleopatra, and he went back again to the city. here he joined himself once more to cleopatra, and, collecting together what remained of their joint resources, they plunged again into a life of dissipation and vice, with the vain attempt to drown in mirth and wine the bitter regrets and the anxious forebodings which filled their souls. they joined with them a company of revelers as abandoned as themselves, and strove very hard to disguise and conceal their cares in their forced and unnatural gayety. they could not, however, accomplish this purpose. octavius was gradually advancing in his progress, and they knew very well that the time of his dreadful reckoning with them must soon come; nor was there any place on earth in which they could look with any hope of finding a refuge in it from his vindictive hostility. cleopatra, warned by dreadful presentiments of what would probably at last be her fate, amused herself in studying the nature of poisons--not theoretically, but practically--making experiments with them on wretched prisoners and captives whom she compelled to take them, in order that she and antony might see the effects which they produced. she made a collection of all the poisons which she could procure, and administered portions of them all, that she might see which were sudden and which were slow in their effects, and also learn which produced the greatest distress and suffering, and which, on the other hand, only benumbed and stupefied the faculties, and thus extinguished life with the least infliction of pain. these experiments were not confined to such vegetable and mineral poisons as could be mingled with the food or administered in a potion. cleopatra took an equal interest in the effects of the bite of venomous serpents and reptiles. she procured specimens of all these animals, and tried them upon her prisoners, causing the men to be stung and bitten by them, and then watching the effects. these investigations were made, not directly with a view to any practical use which she was to make of the knowledge thus acquired, but rather as an agreeable occupation, to divert her mind, and to amuse antony and her guests. the variety in the forms and expressions which the agony of her poisoned victims assumed--their writhings, their cries, their convulsions, and the distortions of their features when struggling with death, furnished exactly the kind and degree of excitement which she needed to occupy and amuse her mind. antony was not entirely at ease, however, during the progress of these terrible experiments. his foolish and childish fondness for cleopatra was mingled with jealousy, suspicion, and distrust; and he was so afraid that cleopatra might secretly poison him, that he would never take any food or wine without requiring that she should taste it before him. at length, one day, cleopatra caused the petals of some flowers to be poisoned, and then had the flowers woven into the chaplet which antony was to wear at supper. in the midst of the feast, she pulled off the leaves of the flowers from her own chaplet and put them playfully into her wine, and then proposed that antony should do the same with his chaplet, and that they should then drink the wine, tinctured, as it would be, with the color and the perfume of the flowers. antony entered very readily into this proposal, and when he was about to drink the wine, she arrested his hand, and told him that it was poisoned. "you see now," said she, "how vain it is for you to watch against me. if it were possible for me to live without you, how easy it would be for me to devise ways and means to kill you." then, to prove that her words were true, she ordered one of the servants to drink antony's wine. he did so, and died before their sight in dreadful agony. the experiments which cleopatra thus made on the nature and effects of poison were not, however, wholly without practical result. cleopatra learned from them, it is said, that the bite of the asp was the easiest and least painful mode of death. the effect of the venom of that animal appeared to her to be the lulling of the sensorium into a lethargy or stupor, which soon ended in death, without the intervention of pain. this knowledge she seems to have laid up in her mind for future use. the thoughts of cleopatra appear, in fact, to have been much disposed, at this time, to flow in gloomy channels, for she occupied herself a great deal in building for herself a sepulchral monument in a certain sacred portion of the city. this monument had, in fact, been commenced many years ago, in accordance with a custom prevailing among egyptian sovereigns, of expending a portion of their revenues during their life-time in building and decorating their own tombs. cleopatra now turned her mind with new interest to her own mausoleum. she finished it, provided it with the strongest possible bolts and bars, and, in a word, seemed to be preparing it in all respects for occupation. in the mean time, octavius, having made himself master of all the countries which had formerly been under antony's sway, now advanced, meeting none to oppose him, from asia minor into syria, and from syria toward egypt. antony and cleopatra made one attempt, while he was thus advancing toward alexandria, to avert the storm which was impending over them, by sending an embassage to ask for some terms of peace. antony proposed, in this embassage, to give up every thing to his conqueror on condition that he might be permitted to retire unmolested with cleopatra to athens, and allowed to spend the remainder of their days there in peace; and that the kingdom of egypt might descend to their children. octavius replied that he could not make any terms with antony, though he was willing to consent to any thing that was reasonable in behalf of cleopatra. the messenger who came back from octavius with this reply spent some time in private interviews with cleopatra. this aroused antony's jealousy and anger. he accordingly ordered the unfortunate messenger to be scourged and then sent back to octavius, all lacerated with wounds, with orders to say to octavius that if it displeased him to have one of his servants thus punished, he might revenge himself by scourging a servant of antony's, who was then, as it happened, in octavius's power. the news at length suddenly arrived at alexandria that octavius had appeared before pelusium, and that the city had fallen into his hands. the next thing antony and cleopatra well knew would be, that they should see him at the gates of alexandria. neither antony nor cleopatra had any means of resisting his progress, and there was no place to which they could fly. nothing was to be done but to await, in consternation and terror, the sure and inevitable doom which was now so near. cleopatra gathered together all her treasures and sent them to her tomb. these treasures consisted of great and valuable stores of gold, silver, precious stones, garments of the highest cost, and weapons, and vessels of exquisite workmanship and great value, the hereditary possessions of the egyptian kings. she also sent to the mausoleum an immense quantity of flax, tow, torches, and other combustibles. these she stored in the lower apartments of the monument, with the desperate determination of burning herself and her treasures together rather than to fall into the hands of the romans. in the mean time, the army of octavius steadily continued its march across the desert from pelusium to alexandria. on the way, octavius learned, through the agents in communication with him from within the city, what were the arrangements which cleopatra had made for the destruction of her treasure whenever the danger should become imminent of its falling into his hands. he was extremely unwilling that this treasure should be lost. besides its intrinsic value, it was an object of immense importance to him to get possession of it for the purpose of carrying it to rome as a trophy of his triumph. he accordingly sent secret messengers to cleopatra, endeavoring to separate her from antony, and to amuse her mind with the profession that he felt only friendship for her, and did not mean to do her any injury, being in pursuit of antony only. these negotiations were continued from day to day while octavius was advancing. at last the roman army reached alexandria, and invested it on every side. as soon as octavius was established in his camp under the walls of the city, antony planned a sally, and he executed it, in fact, with considerable energy and success. he issued suddenly from the gates, at the head of as strong a force as he could command, and attacked a body of octavius's horsemen. he succeeded in driving these horsemen away from their position, but he was soon driven back in his turn, and compelled to retreat to the city, fighting as he fled, to beat back his pursuers. he was extremely elated at the success of this skirmish. he came to cleopatra with a countenance full of animation and pleasure, took her in his arms and kissed her, all accoutered for battle as he was, and boasted greatly of the exploit which he had performed. he praised, too, in the highest terms, the valor of one of the officers who had gone out with him to the fight, and whom he had now brought to the palace to present to cleopatra. cleopatra rewarded the faithful captain's prowess with a magnificent suit of armor made of gold. notwithstanding this reward, however, the man deserted antony that very night, and went over to the enemy. almost all of antony's adherents were in the same state of mind. they would have gladly gone over to the camp of octavius, if they could have found an opportunity to do so. in fact, when the final battle was fought, the fate of it was decided by a grand defection in the fleet, which went over in a body to the side of octavius. antony was planning the operations of the day, and reconnoitering the movements of the enemy from an eminence which he occupied at the head of a body of foot soldiers--all the land forces that now remained to him--and looking off from the eminence on which he stood toward the harbor, he observed a movement among the galleys. they were going out to meet the ships of octavius, which were lying at anchor not very far from them. antony supposed that his vessels were going to attack those of the enemy, and he looked to see what exploits they would perform. they advanced toward octavius's ships, and when they met them, antony observed, to his utter amazement, that, instead of the furious combat that he had expected to see, the ships only exchanged friendly salutations, by the use of the customary naval signals; and then his ships, passing quietly round, took their positions in the lines of the other fleet. the two fleets had thus become merged and mingled into one. antony immediately decided that this was cleopatra's treason. she had made peace with octavius, he thought, and surrendered the fleet to him as one of the conditions of it. antony ran through the city, crying out that he was betrayed, and in a phrensy of rage sought the palace. cleopatra fled to her tomb. she took in with her one or two attendants, and bolted and barred the doors, securing the fastenings with the heavy catches and springs that she had previously made ready. she then directed her women to call out through the door that she had killed herself within the tomb. the tidings of her death were borne to antony. it changed his anger to grief and despair. his mind, in fact, was now wholly lost to all balance and control, and it passed from the dominion of one stormy passion to another with the most capricious facility. he cried out with the most bitter expressions of sorrow, mourning, he said, not so much cleopatra's death, for he should soon follow and join her, as the fact that she had proved herself so superior to him in courage at last, in having thus anticipated him in the work of self-destruction. he was at this time in one of the chambers of the palace, whither he had fled in his despair, and was standing by a fire, for the morning was cold. he had a favorite servant named eros, whom he greatly trusted, and whom he had made to take an oath long before, that whenever it should become necessary for him to die, eros should kill him. this eros he now called to him, and telling him that the time was come, ordered him to take the sword and strike the blow. eros took the sword while antony stood up before him. eros turned his head aside as if wishing that his eyes should not see the deed which his hands were about to perform. instead, however, of piercing his master with it, he plunged it into his own breast, fell down at antony's feet, and died. antony gazed a moment at the shocking spectacle, and then said, "i thank thee for this, noble eros. thou hast set me an example. i must do for myself what thou couldst not do for me." so saying, he took the sword from his servant's hands, plunged it into his body, and staggering to a little bed that was near, fell over upon it in a swoon. he had received a mortal wound. the pressure, however, which was produced by the position in which he lay upon the bed, stanched the wound a little and stopped the flow of blood. antony came presently to himself again, and then began to beg and implore those around him to take the sword and put him out of his misery. but no one would do it. he lay for a time suffering great pain, and moaning incessantly, until, at length, an officer came into the apartment and told him that the story which he had heard of cleopatra's death was not true; that she was still alive, shut up in her monument, and that she desired to see him there. this intelligence was the source of new excitement and agitation. antony implored the by-standers to carry him to cleopatra, that he might see her once more before he died. they shrank from the attempt; but, after some hesitation and delay, they concluded to undertake to remove him. so, taking him in their arms, they bore him along, faint and dying, and marking their track with his blood, toward the tomb. cleopatra would not open the gates to let the party in. the city was all in uproar and confusion through the terror of the assault which octavius was making upon it, and she did not know what treachery might be intended. she therefore went up to a window above, and letting down ropes and chains, she directed those below to fasten the dying body to them, that she and the two women with her might draw it up. this was done. those who witnessed it said that it was a most piteous sight to behold--cleopatra and her women above exhausting their strength in drawing the wounded and bleeding sufferer up the wall, while he, when he approached the window, feebly raised his arms to them, that they might lift him in. the women had hardly strength sufficient to draw the body up. at one time it seemed that the attempt would have to be abandoned; but cleopatra reached down from the window as far as she could to get hold of antony's arms, and thus, by dint of great effort, they succeeded at last in taking him in. they bore him to a couch which was in the upper room from which the window opened, and laid him down, while cleopatra wrung her hands, and tore her hair, and uttered the most piercing lamentations and cries. she leaned over the dying antony, crying out incessantly with the most piteous exclamations of grief. she bathed his face, which was covered with blood, and vainly endeavored to stanch his wound. antony urged her to be calm, and not to mourn his fate. he asked for some wine. they brought it to him, and he drank it. he then entreated cleopatra to save her life, if she possibly could do so, and to make some terms or other with octavius, so as to continue to live. very soon after this he expired. [illustration: the raising of antony to the upper window of the tomb] in the mean time, octavius had heard of the mortal wound which antony had given himself; for one of the by-standers had seized the sword the moment that the deed was done, and had hastened to carry it to octavius, and to announce to him the death of his enemy. octavius immediately desired to get cleopatra into his power. he sent a messenger, therefore, to the tomb, who attempted to open a parley there with her. cleopatra talked with the messenger through the keyholes or crevices, but could not be induced to open the door. the messenger reported these facts to octavius. octavius then sent another man with the messenger, and while one was engaging the attention of cleopatra and her women at the door below, the other obtained ladders, and succeeded in gaining admission into the window above. cleopatra was warned of the success of this stratagem by the shriek of her woman, who saw the officer coming down the stairs. she looked around, and observing at a glance that she was betrayed, and that the officer was coming to seize her, she drew a little dagger from her robe, and was about to plunge it into her breast, when the officer grasped her arm just in time to prevent the blow. he took the dagger from her, and then examined her clothes to see that there were no other secret weapons concealed there. the capture of the queen being reported to octavius, he appointed an officer to take her into close custody. this officer was charged to treat her with all possible courtesy, but to keep a close and constant watch over her, and particularly to guard against allowing her any possible means or opportunity for self-destruction. in the mean time, octavius took formal possession of the city, marching in at the head of his troops with the most imposing pomp and parade. a chair of state, magnificently decorated, was set up for him on a high elevation in a public square; and here he sat, with circles of guards around him, while the people of the city, assembled before him in the dress of suppliants, and kneeling upon the pavement, begged his forgiveness, and implored him to spare the city. these petitions the great conqueror graciously condescended to grant. many of the princes and generals who had served under antony came next to beg the body of their commander, that they might give it an honorable burial. these requests, however, octavius would not accede to, saying that he could not take the body away from cleopatra. he, however, gave cleopatra leave to make such arrangements for the obsequies as she thought fit, and allowed her to appropriate such sums of money from her treasures for this purpose as she desired. cleopatra accordingly made the necessary arrangements, and superintended the execution of them; not, however, with any degree of calmness and composure, but in a state, on the contrary, of extreme agitation and distress. in fact, she had been living now so long under the unlimited and unrestrained dominion of caprice and passion, that reason was pretty effectually dethroned, and all self-control was gone. she was now nearly forty years of age, and, though traces of her inexpressible beauty remained, her bloom was faded, and her countenance was wan with the effects of weeping, anxiety, and despair. she was, in a word, both in body and mind, only the wreck and ruin of what she once had been. when the burial ceremonies were performed, and she found that all was over--that antony was forever gone, and she herself hopelessly and irremediably ruined--she gave herself up to a perfect phrensy of grief. she beat her breast, and scratched and tore her flesh so dreadfully, in the vain efforts which she made to kill herself, in the paroxysms of her despair, that she was soon covered with contusions and wounds, which, becoming inflamed and swelled, made her a shocking spectacle to see, and threw her into a fever. she then conceived the idea of pretending to be more sick than she was, and so refusing food and starving herself to death. she attempted to execute this design. she rejected every medical remedy that was offered her, and would not eat, and lived thus some days without food. octavius, to whom every thing relating to his captive was minutely reported by her attendants, suspected her design. he was very unwilling that she should die, having set his heart on exhibiting her to the roman people, on his return to the capital, in his triumphal procession. he accordingly sent her orders, requiring that she should submit to the treatment prescribed by the physician, and take her food, enforcing these his commands with a certain threat which he imagined might have some influence over her. and what threat does the reader imagine could possibly be devised to reach a mind so sunk, so desperate, so wretched as hers? every thing seemed already lost but life, and life was only an insupportable burden. what interests, then, had she still remaining upon which a threat could take hold? octavius, in looking for some avenue by which he could reach her, reflected that she was a mother. cæsarion, the son of julius cæsar, and alexander, cleopatra, and ptolemy, antony's children, were still alive. octavius imagined that in the secret recesses of her wrecked and ruined soul there might be some lingering principle of maternal affection remaining which he could goad into life and action. he accordingly sent word to her that, if she did not yield to the physician and take her food, he would kill every one of her children. the threat produced its effect. the crazed and frantic patient became calm. she received her food. she submitted to the physician. under his treatment her wounds began to heal, the fever was allayed, and at length she appeared to be gradually recovering. when octavius learned that cleopatra had become composed, and seemed to be in some sense convalescent, he resolved to pay her a visit. as he entered the room where she was confined, which seems to have been still the upper chamber of her tomb, he found her lying on a low and miserable bed, in a most wretched condition, and exhibiting such a spectacle of disease and wretchedness that he was shocked at beholding her. she appeared, in fact, almost wholly bereft of reason. when octavius came in, she suddenly leaped out of the bed, half naked as she was, and covered with bruises and wounds, and crawled miserably along to her conqueror's feet in the attitude of a suppliant. her hair was torn from her head, her limbs were swollen and disfigured, and great bandages appeared here and there, indicating that there were still worse injuries than these concealed. from the midst of all this squalidness and misery there still beamed from her sunken eyes a great portion of their former beauty, and her voice still possessed the same inexpressible charm that had characterized it so strongly in the days of her prime. octavius made her go back to her bed again and lie down. cleopatra then began to talk and excuse herself for what she had done, attributing all the blame of her conduct to antony. octavius, however, interrupted her, and defended antony from her criminations, saying to her that it was not his fault so much as hers. she then suddenly changed her tone, and acknowledging her sins, piteously implored mercy. she begged octavius to pardon and spare her, as if now she were afraid of death and dreaded it, instead of desiring it as a boon. in a word, her mind, the victim and the prey alternately of the most dissimilar and inconsistent passions, was now overcome by fear. to propitiate octavius, she brought out a list of all her private treasures, and delivered it to him as a complete inventory of all that she had. one of her treasurers, however, named zeleucus, who was standing by, said to octavius that that list was not complete. cleopatra had, he alleged, reserved several things of great value, which she had not put down upon it. this assertion, thus suddenly exposing her duplicity, threw cleopatra into a violent rage. she sprang from her bed and assaulted her secretary in a most furious manner. octavius and the others who were there interposed, and compelled cleopatra to lie down again, which she did, uttering all the time the most grievous complaints at the wretched degradation to which she was reduced, to be insulted thus by her own servants at such a time. if she had reserved any thing, she said, of her private treasures, it was only for presents to some of her faithful friends, to induce them the more zealously to intercede with octavius in her behalf. octavius replied by urging her to feel no concern on the subject whatever. he freely gave her, he said, all that she had reserved, and he promised in other respects to treat her in the most honorable and courteous manner. octavius was much pleased at the result of this interview. it was obvious, as it appeared to him, that cleopatra had ceased to desire to die; that she now, on the contrary, wished to live, and that he should accordingly succeed in his desire of taking her with him to grace his triumph at rome. he accordingly made his arrangements for departure, and cleopatra was notified that in three days she was to set out, together with her children, to go into syria. octavius said syria, as he did not wish to alarm cleopatra by speaking of rome. she, however, understood well where the journey, if once commenced, would necessarily end, and she was fully determined in her own mind that she would never go there. she asked to be allowed to pay one parting visit to antony's tomb. this request was granted; and she went to the tomb with a few attendants, carrying with her chaplets and garlands of flowers. at the tomb her grief broke forth anew, and was as violent as ever. she bewailed her lover's death with loud cries and lamentations, uttered while she was placing the garlands upon the tomb, and offering the oblations and incense, which were customary in those days, as expressions of grief. "these," said she, as she made the offerings, "are the last tributes of affection that i can ever pay thee, my dearest, dearest lord. i can not join thee, for i am a captive and a prisoner, and they will not let me die. they watch me every hour, and are going to bear me far away, to exhibit me to thine enemies, as a badge and trophy of their triumph over thee. oh intercede, dearest antony, with the gods where thou art now, since those that reign here on earth have utterly forsaken me; implore them to save me from this fate, and let me die here in my native land, and be buried by thy side in this tomb." when cleopatra returned to her apartment again after this melancholy ceremony, she seemed to be more composed than she had been before. she went to the bath, and then she attired herself handsomely for supper. she had ordered supper that night to be very sumptuously served. she was at liberty to make these arrangements, for the restrictions upon her movements, which had been imposed at first, were now removed, her appearance and demeanor having been for some time such as to lead octavius to suppose that there was no longer any danger that she would attempt self-destruction. her entertainment was arranged, therefore, according to her directions, in a manner corresponding with the customs of her court when she had been a queen. she had many attendants, and among them were two of her own women. these women were long-tried and faithful servants and friends. while she was at supper, a man came to the door with a basket, and wished to enter. the guards asked him what he had in his basket. he opened it to let them see; and, lifting up some green leaves which were laid over the top, he showed the soldiers that the basket was filled with figs. he said that they were for cleopatra's supper. the soldiers admired the appearance of the figs, saying that they were very fine and beautiful. the man asked the soldiers to take some of them. this they declined, but allowed the man to pass in. when the supper was ended, cleopatra sent all of her attendants away except the two women. they remained. after a little time, one of these women came out with a letter for octavius, which cleopatra had written, and which she wished to have immediately delivered. one of the soldiers from the guard stationed at the gates was accordingly dispatched to carry the letter. octavius, when it was given to him, opened the envelope at once and read the letter, which was written, as was customary in those days, on a small tablet of metal. he found that it was a brief but urgent petition from cleopatra, written evidently in agitation and excitement, praying that he would overlook her offense, and allow her to be buried with antony. octavius immediately inferred that she had destroyed herself. he sent off some messengers at once, with orders to go directly to her place of confinement and ascertain the truth, intending to follow them himself immediately. the messengers, on their arrival at the gates, found the sentinels and soldiers quietly on guard before the door, as if all were well. on entering cleopatra's room, however, they beheld a shocking spectacle. cleopatra was lying dead upon a couch. one of her women was upon the floor, dead too. the other, whose name was charmion, was sitting over the body of her mistress, fondly caressing her, arranging flowers in her hair, and adorning her diadem. the messengers of octavius, on witnessing this spectacle, were overcome with amazement, and demanded of charmion what it could mean. "it is all right," said charmion. "cleopatra has acted in a manner worthy of a princess descended from so noble a line of kings." as charmion said this, she began to sink herself, fainting, upon the bed, and almost immediately expired. the by-standers were not only shocked at the spectacle which was thus presented before them, but they were perplexed and confounded in their attempts to discover by what means cleopatra and her women had succeeded in effecting their design. they examined the bodies, but no marks of violence were to be discovered. they looked all around the room, but no weapons, and no indication of any means of poison, were to be found. they discovered something that appeared like the slimy track of an animal on the wall, toward a window, which they thought might have been produced by an _asp_; but the animal itself was nowhere to be seen. they examined the body with great care, but no marks of any bite or sting were to be found, except that there were two very slight and scarcely-discernible punctures on the arm, which some persons fancied might have been so caused. the means and manner of her death seemed to be involved in impenetrable mystery. there were various rumors on the subject subsequently in circulation both at alexandria and at rome, though the mystery was never fully solved. some said that there was an asp concealed among the figs which the servant man brought in in the basket; that he brought it in that manner, by a preconcerted arrangement between him and cleopatra, and that, when she received it, she placed the animal on her arm. others say that she had a small steel instrument like a needle, with a poisoned point, which she had kept concealed in her hair, and that she killed herself with that, without producing any visible wound. another story was, that she had an asp in a box somewhere in her apartment, which she had reserved for this occasion, and when the time finally came, that she pricked and teased it with a golden bodkin to make it angry, and then placed it upon her flesh and received its sting. which of these stories, if either of them, were true, could never be known. it has, however, been generally believed among mankind that cleopatra died in some way or other by the self-inflicted sting of the asp, and paintings and sculptures without number have been made to illustrate and commemorate the scene. this supposition in respect to the mode of her death is, in fact, confirmed by the action of octavius himself on his return to rome, which furnishes a strong indication of his opinion of the manner in which his captive at last eluded him. disappointed in not being able to exhibit the queen herself in his triumphal train, he caused a golden statue representing her to be made, with an image of an asp upon the arm of it, and this sculpture he caused to be borne conspicuously before him in his grand triumphal entry into the capital, as the token and trophy of the final downfall of the unhappy egyptian queen. the end. footnotes: [ ] see map of the delta of the nile, page ; also the view of alexandria, page . [ ] see map; frontispiece. [ ] it will be sufficiently accurate for the general reader of history to consider the greek talent, referred to in such transactions as these, as equal in english money to two hundred and fifty pounds, in american to a thousand dollars. it is curious to observe that, large as the total was that was paid for the liberation of these slaves, the amount paid for each individual was, after all, only a sum equal to about five dollars. [ ] for an account of one of these disasters, with an engraving illustrative of the scene, see the history of cyrus. [ ] for the position of this island in respect to egypt and the neighboring countries, see map, frontispiece. [ ] this octavius, on his subsequent elevation to imperial power, received the name of augustus cæsar, and it is by this name that he is generally known in history. he was, however, called octavius at the commencement of his career, and, to avoid confusion, we shall continue to designate him by this name to the end of our narrative. [ ] see map, at the frontispiece. [ ] pearls, being of the nature of _shell_ in their composition and structure, are soluble in certain acids. [ ] see map for the situation of ephesus and of samos. [ ] these letters, in accordance with the scale of expense and extravagance on which cleopatra determined that every thing relating to herself and antony should be done, were engraved on tablets made of onyx, or crystal, or other hard and precious stones. distributed proofreaders makers of history cleopatra by jacob abbott [illustration: cleopatra.] preface of all the beautiful women of history, none has left us such convincing proofs of her charms as cleopatra, for the tide of rome's destiny, and, therefore, that of the world, turned aside because of her beauty. julius caesar, whose legions trampled the conquered world from canopus to the thames, capitulated to her, and mark antony threw a fleet, an empire and his own honor to the winds to follow her to his destruction. disarmed at last before the frigid octavius, she found her peerless body measured by the cold eye of her captor only for the triumphal procession, and the friendly asp alone spared her rome's crowning ignominy. table of contents chapter i. the valley of the nile ii. the ptolemies iii. alexandria iv. cleopatra's father v. accession to the throne vi. cleopatra and caesar vii. the alexandrine war viii. cleopatra a queen ix. the battle of philippi x. cleopatra and antony xi. the battle of actium xii. the end of cleopatra illustrations cleopatra meeting of cleopatra and antony cleopatra testing the poison upon the slaves [illustration: map--'scene of cleopatra's history'] chapter i. the valley of the nile. the parentage and birth of cleopatra.--cleopatra's residence in egypt.--physical aspect of egypt.--the eagle's wings and science.--physical peculiarities of egypt connected with the laws of rain.--general laws of rain.--causes which modify the quantity of rain.--striking contrasts.--rainless regions.--great rainless region of asia and africa.--the andes.--map of the rainless region.--valley of the nile.--the red sea.--the oases.--siweh.--mountains of the moon.--the river nile.--incessant rains.--inundation of the nile.--course of the river.--subsidence of the waters.--luxuriant vegetation.--absence of forests.--great antiquity of egypt.--her monuments.--the delta of the nile.--the delta as seen from the sea.--pelusiac mouth of the nile.--the canopic mouth.--ancient egypt.--the pyramids.--conquests of the persians and macedonians.--the ptolemies.--founding of alexandria.--the pharos. the story of cleopatra is a story of crime. it is a narrative of the course and the consequences of unlawful love. in her strange and romantic history we see this passion portrayed with the most complete and graphic fidelity in all its influences and effects; its uncontrollable impulses, its intoxicating joys, its reckless and mad career, and the dreadful remorse and ultimate despair and ruin in which it always and inevitably ends. cleopatra was by birth an egyptian; by ancestry and descent she was a greek. thus, while alexandria and the delta of the nile formed the scene of the most important events and incidents of her history, it was the blood of macedon which flowed in her veins. her character and action are marked by the genius, the courage, the originality, and the impulsiveness pertaining to the stock from which she sprung. the events of her history, on the other hand, and the peculiar character of her adventures, her sufferings, and her sins, were determined by the circumstances with which she was surrounded, and the influences which were brought to bear upon her in the soft and voluptuous clime where the scenes of her early life were laid. egypt has always been considered as physically the most remarkable country on the globe. it is a long and narrow valley of verdure and fruitfulness, completely insulated from the rest of the habitable world. it is more completely insulated, in fact, than any literal island could be, inasmuch as deserts are more impassable than seas. the very existence of egypt is a most extraordinary phenomenon. if we could but soar with the wings of an eagle into the air, and look down upon the scene, so as to observe the operation of that grand and yet simple process by which this long and wonderful valley, teeming so profusely with animal and vegetable life, has been formed, and is annually revivified and renewed, in the midst of surrounding wastes of silence, desolation, and death, we should gaze upon it with never-ceasing admiration and pleasure. we have not the wings of the eagle, but the generalizations of science furnish us with a sort of substitute for them. the long series of patient, careful, and sagacious observations, which have been continued now for two thousand years, bring us results, by means of which, through our powers of mental conception, we may take a comprehensive survey of the whole scene, analogous, in some respects, to that which direct and actual vision would afford us, if we could look down upon it from the eagle's point of view. it is, however, somewhat humiliating to our pride of intellect to reflect that long-continued philosophical investigations and learned scientific research are, in such a case as this, after all, in some sense, only a sort of substitute for wings. a human mind connected with a pair of eagle's wings would have solved the mystery of egypt in a week; whereas science, philosophy, and research, confined to the surface of the ground, have been occupied for twenty centuries in accomplishing the undertaking. it is found at last that both the existence of egypt itself, and its strange insulation in the midst of boundless tracts of dry and barren sand, depend upon certain remarkable results of the general laws of rain. the water which is taken up by the atmosphere from the surface of the sea and of the land by evaporation, falls again, under certain circumstances, in showers of rain, the frequency and copiousness of which vary very much in different portions of the earth. as a general principle, rains are much more frequent and abundant near the equator than in temperate climes, and they grow less and less so as we approach the poles. this might naturally have been expected; for, under the burning sun of the equator, the evaporation of water must necessarily go on with immensely greater rapidity than in the colder zones, and all the water which is taken up must, of course, again come down. it is not, however, wholly by the latitude of the region in which the evaporation takes place that the quantity of rain which falls from the atmosphere is determined; for the condition on which the falling back, in rain, of the water which has been taken up by evaporation mainly depends, is the cooling of the atmospheric stratum which contains it; and this effect is produced in very various ways, and many different causes operate to modify it. sometimes the stratum is cooled by being wafted over ranges of mountains, sometimes by encountering and becoming mingled with cooler currents of air; and sometimes, again, by being driven in winds toward a higher, and, consequently, cooler latitude. if, on the other hand, air moves from cold mountains toward warm and sunny plains, or from higher latitudes to lower, or if, among the various currents into which it falls, it becomes mixed with air warmer than itself, its capacity for containing vapor in solution is increased, and, consequently, instead of releasing its hold upon the waters which it has already in possession, it becomes thirsty for more. it moves over a country, under these circumstances, as a warm and drying wind. under a reverse of circumstances it would have formed drifting mists, or, perhaps, even copious showers of rain. it will be evident, from these considerations, that the frequency of the showers, and the quantity of the rain which will fall, in the various regions respectively which the surface of the earth presents, must depend on the combined influence of many causes, such as the warmth of the climate, the proximity and the direction of mountains and of seas, the character of the prevailing winds, and the reflecting qualities of the soil. these and other similar causes, it is found, do, in fact, produce a vast difference in the quantity of rain which falls in different regions. in the northern part of south america, where the land is bordered on every hand by vast tropical seas, which load the hot and thirsty air with vapor, and where the mighty cordillera of the andes rears its icy summits to chill and precipitate the vapors again, a quantity of rain amounting to more than ten feet in perpendicular height falls in a year. at st. petersburg, on the other hand, the quantity thus falling in a year is but little more than one foot. the immense deluge which pours down from the clouds in south america would, if the water were to remain where it fell, wholly submerge and inundate the country. as it is, in flowing off through the valleys to the sea, the united torrents form the greatest river on the globe--the amazon; and the vegetation, stimulated by the heat, and nourished by the abundant and incessant supplies of moisture, becomes so rank, and loads the earth with such an entangled and matted mass of trunks, and stems, and twining wreaths and vines, that man is almost excluded from the scene. the boundless forests become a vast and almost impenetrable jungle, abandoned to wild beasts, noxious reptiles, and huge and ferocious birds of prey. of course, the district of st. petersburg, with its icy winter, its low and powerless sun, and its twelve inches of annual rain, must necessarily present, in all its phenomena of vegetable and animal life, a striking contrast to the exuberant prolificness of new grenada. it is, however, after all, not absolutely the opposite extreme. there are certain regions on the surface of the earth that are actually rainless; and it is these which present us with the true and real contrast to the luxuriant vegetation and teeming life of the country of the amazon. in these rainless regions all is necessarily silence, desolation, and death. no plant can grow; no animal can live. man, too, is forever and hopelessly excluded. if the exuberant abundance of animal and vegetable life shut him out, in some measure, from regions which an excess of heat and moisture render too prolific, the total absence of them still more effectually forbids him a home in these. they become, therefore, vast wastes of dry and barren sands in which no root can find nourishment, and of dreary rocks to which not even a lichen can cling. the most extensive and remarkable rainless region on the earth is a vast tract extending through the interior and northern part of africa, and the southwestern part of asia. the red sea penetrates into this tract from the south, and thus breaks the outline and continuity of its form, without, however, altering, or essentially modifying its character. it divides it, however, and to the different portions which this division forms, different names have been given. the asiatic portion is called arabia deserta; the african tract has received the name of sahara; while between these two, in the neighborhood of egypt, the barren region is called simply _the desert_. the whole tract is marked, however, throughout, with one all-pervading character: the absence of vegetable, and, consequently, of animal life, on account of the absence of rain. the rising of a range of lofty mountains in the center of it, to produce a precipitation of moisture from the air, would probably transform the whole of the vast waste into as verdant, and fertile, and populous a region as any on the globe. [illustration: valley of the nile] as it is, there are no such mountains. the whole tract is nearly level, and so little elevated above the sea, that, at the distance of many hundred miles in the interior, the land rises only to the height of a few hundred feet above the surface of the mediterranean; whereas in new grenada, at less than one hundred miles from the sea, the chain of the andes rises to elevations of from ten to fifteen thousand feet. such an ascent as that of a few hundred feet in hundreds of miles would be wholly imperceptible to any ordinary mode of observation; and the great rainless region, accordingly, of africa and asia is, as it appears to the traveler, one vast plain, a thousand miles wide and five thousand miles long, with only one considerable interruption to the dead monotony which reigns, with that exception, every where over the immense expanse of silence and solitude. the single interval of fruitfulness and life is the valley of the nile. there are, however, in fact, three interruptions to the continuity of this plain, though only one of them constitutes any considerable interruption to its barrenness. they are all of them valleys, extending from north to south, and lying side by side. the most easterly of these valleys is so deep that the waters of the ocean flow into it from the south, forming a long and narrow inlet called the red sea. as this inlet communicates freely with the ocean, it is always nearly of the same level, and as the evaporation from it is not sufficient to produce rain, it does not even fertilize its own shores. its presence varies the dreary scenery of the landscape, it is true, by giving us surging waters to look upon instead of driving sands; but this is all. with the exception of the spectacle of an english steamer passing, at weary intervals, over its dreary expanse, and some moldering remains of ancient cities on its eastern shore, it affords scarcely any indications of life. it does very little, therefore, to relieve the monotonous aspect of solitude and desolation which reigns over the region into which it has intruded. the most westerly of the three valleys to which we have alluded is only a slight depression of the surface of the land marked by a line of _oases_. the depression is not sufficient to admit the waters of the mediterranean, nor are there any rains over any portion of the valley which it forms sufficient to make it the bed of a stream. springs issue, however, here and there, in several places, from the ground, and, percolating through the sands along the valley, give fertility to little dells, long and narrow, which, by the contrast that they form with the surrounding desolation, seem to the traveler to possess the verdure and beauty of paradise. there is a line of these oases extending along this westerly depression, and some of them are of considerable extent. the oasis of siweh, on which stood the far-famed temple of jupiter ammon, was many miles in extent, and was said to have contained in ancient times a population of eight thousand souls. thus, while the most easterly of the three valleys which we have named was sunk so low as to admit the ocean to flow freely into it, the most westerly was so slightly depressed that it gained only a circumscribed and limited fertility through the springs, which, in the lowest portions of it, oozed from the ground. the third valley--the central one--remains now to be described. the reader will observe, by referring once more to the map, that south of the great rainless region of which we are speaking, there lie groups and ranges of mountains in abyssinia, called the mountains of the moon. these mountains are near the equator, and the relation which they sustain to the surrounding seas, and to currents of wind which blow in that quarter of the world, is such, that they bring down from the atmosphere, especially in certain seasons of the year, vast and continual torrents of rain. the water which thus falls drenches the mountain sides and deluges the valleys. there is a great portion of it which can not flow to the southward or eastward toward the sea, as the whole country consists, in those directions, of continuous tracts of elevated land. the rush of water thus turns to the northward, and, pressing on across the desert through the great central valley which we have referred to above, it finds an outlet, at last, in the mediterranean, at a point two thousand miles distant from the place where the immense condenser drew it from the skies. the river thus created is the nile. it is formed, in a word, by the surplus waters of a district inundated with rains, in their progress across a rainless desert, seeking the sea. if the surplus of water upon the abyssinian mountains had been constant and uniform, the stream, in its passage across the desert, would have communicated very little fertility to the barren sands which it traversed. the immediate banks of the river would have, perhaps, been fringed with verdure, but the influence of the irrigation would have extended no farther than the water itself could have reached, by percolation through the sand. but the flow of the water is not thus uniform and steady. in a certain season of the year the rains are incessant, and they descend with such abundance and profusion as almost to inundate the districts where they fall. immense torrents stream down the mountain sides; the valleys are deluged; plains turn into morasses, and morasses into lakes. in a word, the country becomes half submerged, and the accumulated mass of waters would rush with great force and violence down the central valley of the desert, which forms their only outlet, if the passage were narrow, and if it made any considerable descent in its course to the sea. it is, however, not narrow, and the descent is very small. the depression in the surface of the desert, through which the water flows, is from five to ten miles wide, and, though it is nearly two thousand miles from the rainy district across the desert to the sea, the country for the whole distance is almost level. there is only sufficient descent, especially for the last thousand miles, to determine a very gentle current to the northward in the waters of the stream. under these circumstances, the immense quantity of water which falls in the rainy district in these inundating tropical showers, expands over the whole valley, and forms for a time an immense lake, extending in length across the whole breadth of the desert. this lake is, of course, from five to ten miles wide, and a thousand miles long. the water in it is shallow and turbid, and it has a gentle current toward the north. the rains, at length, in a great measure cease; but it requires some months for the water to run off and leave the valley dry. as soon as it is gone, there springs up from the whole surface of the ground which has been thus submerged a most rank and luxuriant vegetation. this vegetation, now wholly regulated and controlled by the hand of man, must have been, in its original and primeval state, of a very peculiar character. it must have consisted of such plants only as could exist under the condition of having the soil in which they grew laid, for a quarter of the year, wholly under water. this circumstance, probably, prevented the valley of the nile from having been, like other fertile tracts of land, encumbered, in its native state, with forests. for the same reason, wild beasts could never have haunted it. there were no forests to shelter them, and no refuge or retreat for them but the dry and barren desert, during the period of the annual inundations. this most extraordinary valley seems thus to have been formed and preserved by nature herself for the special possession of man. she herself seems to have held it in reserve for him from the very morning of creation, refusing admission into it to every plant and every animal that might hinder or disturb his occupancy and control. and if he were to abandon it now for a thousand years, and then return to it once more, he would find it just as he left it, ready for his immediate possession. there would be no wild beasts that he must first expel, and no tangled forests would have sprung up, that his ax must first remove. nature is the husbandman who keeps this garden of the world in order, and the means and machinery by which she operates are the grand evaporating surfaces of the seas, the beams of the tropical sun, the lofty summits of the abyssinian mountains, and, as the product and result of all this instrumentality, great periodical inundations of summer rain. for these or some other reasons egypt has been occupied by man from the most remote antiquity. the oldest records of the human race, made three thousand years ago, speak of egypt as ancient then, when they were written. not only is tradition silent, but even fable herself does not attempt to tell the story of the origin of her population. here stand the oldest and most enduring monuments that human power has ever been able to raise. it is, however, somewhat humiliating to the pride of the race to reflect that the loftiest and proudest, as well as the most permanent and stable of all the works which man has ever accomplished, are but the incidents and adjuncts of a thin stratum of alluvial fertility, left upon the sands by the subsiding waters of summer showers. the most important portion of the alluvion of the nile is the northern portion, where the valley widens and opens toward the sea, forming a triangular plain of about one hundred miles in length on each of the sides, over which the waters of the river flow in a great number of separate creeks and channels. the whole area forms a vast meadow, intersected every where with slow-flowing streams of water, and presenting on its surface the most enchanting pictures of fertility, abundance, and beauty. this region is called the delta of the nile. the sea upon the coast is shallow, and the fertile country formed by the deposits of the river seems to have projected somewhat beyond the line of the coast; although, as the land has not advanced perceptibly for the last eighteen hundred years, it may be somewhat doubtful whether the whole of the apparent protrusion is not due to the natural conformation of the coast, rather than to any changes made by the action of the river. the delta of the nile is so level itself, and so little raised above the level of the mediterranean, that the land seems almost a continuation of the same surface with the sea, only, instead of blue waters topped with white-crested waves, we have broad tracts of waving grain, and gentle swells of land crowned with hamlets and villages. in approaching the coast, the navigator has no distant view of all this verdure and beauty. it lies so low that it continues beneath the horizon until the ship is close upon the shore. the first landmarks, in fact, which the seaman makes, are the tops of trees growing apparently out of the water, or the summit of an obelisk, or the capital of a pillar, marking the site of some ancient and dilapidated city. the most easterly of the channels by which the waters of the river find their way through the delta to the sea, is called, as it will be seen marked upon the map, the pelusiac branch. it forms almost the boundary of the fertile region of the delta on the eastern side. there was an ancient city named pelusium near the mouth of it. this was, of course, the first egyptian city reached by those who arrived by land from the eastward, traveling along the shores of the mediterranean sea. on account of its thus marking the eastern frontier of the country, it became a point of great importance, and is often mentioned in the histories of ancient times. the westernmost mouth of the nile, on the other hand, was called the canopic mouth. the distance along the coast from the canopic mouth to pelusium was about a hundred miles. the outline of the coast was formerly, as it still continues to be, very irregular, and the water shallow. extended banks of sand protruded into the sea, and the sea itself, as if in retaliation, formed innumerable creeks, and inlets, and lagoons in the land. along this irregular and uncertain boundary the waters of the nile and the surges of the mediterranean kept up an eternal war, with energies so nearly equal, that now, after the lapse of eighteen hundred years since the state of the contest began to be recorded, neither side has been found to have gained any perceptible advantage over the other. the river brings the sands down, and the sea drives them incessantly back, keeping the whole line of the shore in such a condition as to make it extremely dangerous and difficult of access to man. it will be obvious, from this description of the valley of the nile, that it formed a country which was in ancient times isolated and secluded, in a very striking manner, from all the rest of the world. it was wholly shut in by deserts, on every side, by land; and the shoals, and sand-bars, and other dangers of navigation which marked the line of the coast, seemed to forbid approach by sea. here it remained for many ages, under the rule of its own native ancient kings. its population was peaceful and industrious. its scholars were famed throughout the world for their learning, their science, and their philosophy. it was in these ages, before other nations had intruded upon its peaceful seclusion, that the pyramids were built, and the enormous monoliths carved, and those vast temples reared whose ruined columns are now the wonder of mankind. during these remote ages, too, egypt was, as now, the land of perpetual fertility and abundance. there would always be corn in egypt, wherever else famine might rage. the neighboring nations and tribes in arabia, palestine, and syria, found their way to it, accordingly, across the deserts on the eastern side, when driven by want, and thus opened a way of communication. at length the persian monarchs, after extending their empire westward to the mediterranean, found access by the same road to pelusium, and thence overran and conquered the country. at last, about two hundred and fifty years before the time of cleopatra, alexander the great, when he subverted the persian empire, took possession of egypt, and annexed it, among the other persian provinces, to his own dominions. at the division of alexander's empire, after his death, egypt fell to one of his generals, named ptolemy. ptolemy made it his kingdom, and left it, at his death, to his heirs. a long line of sovereigns succeeded him, known in history as the dynasty of the ptolemies--greek princes, reigning over an egyptian realm. cleopatra was the daughter of the eleventh in the line. the capital of the ptolemies was alexandria. until the time of alexander's conquest, egypt had no sea-port. there were several landing-places along the coast, but no proper harbor. in fact egypt had then so little commercial intercourse with the rest of the world, that she scarcely needed any. alexander's engineers, however, in exploring the shore, found a point not far from the canopic mouth of the nile where the water was deep, and where there was an anchorage ground protected by an island. alexander founded a city there, which he called by his own name. he perfected the harbor by artificial excavations and embankments. a lofty light-house was reared, which formed a landmark by day, and exhibited a blazing star by night to guide the galleys of the mediterranean in. a canal was made to connect the port with the nile, and warehouses were erected to contain the stores of merchandise. in a word, alexandria became at once a great commercial capital. it was the seat, for several centuries, of the magnificent government of the ptolemies; and so well was its situation chosen for the purposes intended, that it still continues, after the lapse of twenty centuries of revolution and change, one of the principal emporiums of the commerce of the east. chapter ii. the ptolemies. the dynasty of the ptolemies.--the founder.--philip of macedon.--alexander.--the intrigue discovered.--ptolemy banished.--accession of alexander.--ptolemy's elevation.--death of alexander.--ptolemy becomes king of egypt.--character of ptolemy's reign.--the alexandrian library.--abdication of ptolemy.--ptolemy philadelphus.--death of ptolemy.--subsequent degeneracy of the ptolemies.--incestuous marriages of the ptolemy family.--ptolemy physcon.--origin of his name.--circumstances of physcon's accession.--cleopatra.--physcon's brutal perfidity.--he marries his wife's daughter.--atrocities of physcon.--his flight.--cleopatra assumes the government.--her birth-day.--barbarity of physcon.--grief of cleopatra.--general character of the ptolemy family.--lathyrus. --terrible quarrels with his mother.--cruelties of cleopatra. --alexander kills her.--cleopatra a type of the family.--her two daughters.--unnatural war.--tryphena's hatred of her sister.--taking of antioch.--cleopatra flees to a temple.--jealousy of tryphena.--her resentment increases.--cruel and sacrilegious murder.--the moral condition of mankind not degenerating. the founder of the dynasty of the ptolemies--the ruler into whose hands the kingdom of egypt fell, as has already been stated, at the death of alexander the great--was a macedonian general in alexander's army. the circumstances of his birth, and the events which led to his entering into the service of alexander, were somewhat peculiar. his mother, whose name was arsinoe, was a personal favorite and companion of philip, king of macedon, the father of alexander. philip at length gave arsinoe in marriage to a certain man of his court named lagus. a very short time after the marriage, ptolemy was born. philip treated the child with the same consideration and favor that he had evinced toward the mother. the boy was called the son of lagus, but his position in the royal court of macedon was as high and honorable, and the attentions which he received were as great, as he could have expected to enjoy if he had been in reality a son of the king. as he grew up, he attained to official stations of considerable responsibility and power. in the course of time, a certain transaction occurred by means of which ptolemy involved himself in serious difficulty with philip, though by the same means he made alexander very strongly his friend. there was a province of the persian empire called caria, situated in the southwestern part of asia minor. the governor of this province had offered his daughter to philip as the wife of one of his sons named aridaeus, the half brother of alexander. alexander's mother, who was not the mother of aridaeus, was jealous of this proposed marriage. she thought that it was part of a scheme for bringing aridaeus forward into public notice, and finally making him the heir to philip's throne; whereas she was very earnest that this splendid inheritance should be reserved for her own son. accordingly, she proposed to alexander that they should send a secret embassage to the persian governor, and represent to him that it would be much better, both for him and for his daughter, that she should have alexander instead of aridaeus for a husband, and induce him, if possible, to demand of philip that he should make the change. alexander entered readily into this scheme, and various courtiers, ptolemy among the rest, undertook to aid him in the accomplishment of it. the embassy was sent. the governor of caria was very much pleased with the change which they proposed to him. in fact, the whole plan seemed to be going on very successfully toward its accomplishment, when, by some means or other, philip discovered the intrigue. he went immediately into alexander's apartment, highly excited with resentment and anger. he had never intended to make aridaeus, whose birth on the mother's side was obscure and ignoble, the heir to his throne, and he reproached alexander in the bitterest terms for being of so debased and degenerate a spirit as to desire to marry the daughter of a persian governor; a man who was, in fact, the mere slave, as he said, of a barbarian king. alexander's scheme was thus totally defeated; and so displeased was his father with the officers who had undertaken to aid him in the execution of it, that he banished them all from the kingdom. ptolemy, in consequence of this decree, wandered about an exile from his country for some years, until at length the death of philip enabled alexander to recall him. alexander succeeded his father as king of macedon, and immediately made ptolemy one of his principal generals. ptolemy rose, in fact, to a very high command in the macedonian army, and distinguished himself very greatly in all the celebrated conqueror's subsequent campaigns. in the persian invasion, ptolemy commanded one of the three grand divisions of the army, and he rendered repeatedly the most signal services to the cause of his master. he was employed on the most distant and dangerous enterprises, and was often intrusted with the management of affairs of the utmost importance. he was very successful in all his undertakings. he conquered armies, reduced fortresses, negotiated treaties, and evinced, in a word, the highest degree of military energy and skill. he once saved alexander's life by discovering and revealing a dangerous conspiracy which had been formed against the king. alexander had the opportunity to requite this favor, through a divine interposition vouchsafed to him, it was said, for the express purpose of enabling him to evince his gratitude. ptolemy had been wounded by a poisoned arrow, and when all the remedies and antidotes of the physicians had failed, and the patient was apparently about to die, an effectual means of cure was revealed to alexander in a dream, and ptolemy, in his turn, was saved. at the great rejoicings at susa, when alexander's conquests were completed, ptolemy was honored with a golden crown, and he was married, with great pomp and ceremony, to artacama, the daughter of one of the most distinguished persian generals. at length alexander died suddenly, after a night of drinking and carousal at babylon. he had no son old enough to succeed him, and his immense empire was divided among his generals. ptolemy obtained egypt for his share. he repaired immediately to alexandria, with a great army, and a great number of greek attendants and followers, and there commenced a reign which continued, in great prosperity and splendor, for forty years. the native egyptians were reduced, of course, to subjection and bondage. all the offices in the army, and all stations of trust and responsibility in civil life, were filled by greeks. alexandria was a greek city, and it became at once one of the most important commercial centers in all those seas. greek and roman travelers found now a language spoken in egypt which they could understand, and philosophers and scholars could gratify the curiosity which they had so long felt, in respect to the institutions, and monuments, and wonderful physical characteristics of the country, with safety and pleasure. in a word, the organization of a greek government over the ancient kingdom, and the establishment of the great commercial relations of the city of alexandria, conspired to bring egypt out from its concealment and seclusion, and to open it in some measure to the intercourse, as well as to bring it more fully under the observation, of the rest of mankind. ptolemy, in fact, made it a special object of his policy to accomplish these ends. he invited greek scholars, philosophers, poets, and artists, in great numbers, to come to alexandria, and to make his capital their abode. he collected an immense library, which subsequently, under the name of the alexandrian library, became one of the most celebrated collections of books and manuscripts that was ever made. we shall have occasion to refer more particularly to this library in the next chapter. besides prosecuting these splendid schemes for the aggrandizement of egypt, king ptolemy was engaged, during almost the whole period of his reign, in waging incessant wars with the surrounding nations. he engaged in these wars, in part, for the purpose of extending the boundaries of his empire, and in part for self-defense against the aggressions and encroachments of other powers. he finally succeeded in establishing his kingdom on the most stable and permanent basis, and then, when he was drawing toward the close of his life, being in fact over eighty years of age, he abdicated his throne in favor of his youngest son, whose name was also ptolemy. ptolemy the father, the founder of the dynasty, is known commonly in history by the name of ptolemy soter. his son is called ptolemy philadelphus. this son, though the youngest, was preferred to his brothers as heir to the throne on account of his being the son of the most favored and beloved of the monarch's wives. the determination of soter to abdicate the throne himself arose from his wish to put this favorite son in secure possession of it before his death, in order to prevent the older brothers from disputing the succession. the coronation of philadelphus was made one of the most magnificent and imposing ceremonies that royal pomp and parade ever arranged. two years afterward ptolemy the father died, and was buried by his son with a magnificence almost equal to that of his own coronation. his body was deposited in a splendid mausoleum, which had been built for the remains of alexander; and so high was the veneration which was felt by mankind for the greatness of his exploits and the splendor of his reign, that divine honors were paid to his memory. such was the origin of the great dynasty of the ptolemies. some of the early sovereigns of the line followed in some degree the honorable example set them by the distinguished founder of it; but this example was soon lost, and was succeeded by the most extreme degeneracy and debasement. the successive sovereigns began soon to live and to reign solely for the gratification of their own sensual propensities and passions. sensuality begins sometimes with kindness, but it ends always in the most reckless and intolerable cruelty. the ptolemies became, in the end, the most abominable and terrible tyrants that the principle of absolute and irresponsible power ever produced. there was one vice in particular, a vice which they seem to have adopted from the asiatic nations of the persian empire, that resulted in the most awful consequences. this vice was incest. the law of god, proclaimed not only in the scriptures, but in the native instincts of the human soul, forbids intermarriages among those connected by close ties of consanguinity. the necessity for such a law rests on considerations which can not here be fully explained. they are considerations, however, which arise from causes inherent in the very nature of man as a social being, and which are of universal, perpetual, and insurmountable force. to guard his creatures against the deplorable consequences, both physical and moral, which result from the practice of such marriages, the great author of nature has implanted in every mind an instinctive sense of their criminality, powerful enough to give effectual warning of the danger, and so universal as to cause a distinct condemnation of them to be recorded in almost every code of written law that has ever been promulgated among mankind. the persian sovereigns were, however, above all law, and every species of incestuous marriage was practiced by them without shame. the ptolemies followed their example. one of the most striking exhibitions of the nature of incestuous domestic life which is afforded by the whole dismal panorama of pagan vice and crime, is presented in the history of the great-grandfather of the cleopatra who is the principal subject of this narrative. he was ptolemy physcon, the seventh in the line. it is necessary to give some particulars of his history and that of his family, in order to explain the circumstances under which cleopatra herself came upon the stage. the name physcon, which afterward became his historical designation, was originally given him in contempt and derision. he was very small of stature in respect to height, but his gluttony and sensuality had made him immensely corpulent in body, so that he looked more like a monster than a man. the term physcon was a greek word, which denoted opprobriously the ridiculous figure that he made. the circumstances of ptolemy physcon's accession to the throne afford not only a striking illustration of his character, but a very faithful though terrible picture of the manners and morals of the times. he had been engaged in a long and cruel war with his brother, who was king before him, in which war he had perpetrated all imaginable atrocities, when at length his brother died, leaving as his survivors his wife, who was also his sister, and a son who was yet a child. this son was properly the heir to the crown. physcon himself, being a brother, had no claim, as against a son. the name of the queen was cleopatra. this was, in fact, a very common name among the princesses of the ptolemaic line. cleopatra, besides her son, had a daughter, who was at this time a young and beautiful girl. her name was also cleopatra. she was, of course, the niece, as her mother was the sister, of physcon. the plan of cleopatra the mother, after her husband's death, was to make her son the king of egypt, and to govern herself, as regent, until he should become of age. the friends and adherents of physcon, however, formed a strong party in _his_ favor. they sent for him to come to alexandria to assert his claims to the throne. he came, and a new civil war was on the point of breaking out between the brother and sister, when at length the dispute was settled by a treaty, in which it was stipulated that physcon should marry cleopatra, and be king; but that he should make the son of cleopatra by her former husband his heir. this treaty was carried into effect so far as the celebration of the marriage with the mother was concerned, and the establishment of physcon upon the throne. but the perfidious monster, instead of keeping his faith in respect to the boy, determined to murder him; and so open and brutal were his habits of violence and cruelty, that he undertook to perpetrate the deed himself, in open day. the boy fled shrieking to the mother's arms for protection, and physcon stabbed and killed him there, exhibiting the spectacle of a newly-married husband murdering the son of his wife in her very arms! it is easy to conceive what sort of affection would exist between a husband and a wife after such transactions as these. in fact, there had been no love between them from the beginning. the marriage had been solely a political arrangement. physcon hated his wife, and had murdered her son, and then, as if to complete the exhibition of the brutal lawlessness and capriciousness of his passions, he ended with falling in love with her daughter. the beautiful girl looked upon this heartless monster, as ugly and deformed in body as he was in mind, with absolute horror. but she was wholly in his power. he compelled her, by violence, to submit to his will. he repudiated the mother, and forced the daughter to become his wife. physcon displayed the same qualities of brutal tyranny and cruelty in the treatment of his subjects that he manifested in his own domestic relations. the particulars we can not here give, but can only say that his atrocities became at length absolutely intolerable, and a revolt so formidable broke out, that he fled from the country. in fact he barely escaped with his life, as the mob had surrounded the palace and were setting it on fire, intending to burn the tyrant himself and all the accomplices of his crimes together. physcon, however, contrived to make his escape. he fled to the island of cyprus, taking with him a certain beautiful boy, his son by the cleopatra whom he had divorced; for they had been married long enough before the divorce, to have a son. the name of this boy was memphitis. his mother was very tenderly attached to him, and physcon took him away on this very account, to keep him as a hostage for his mother's good behavior. he fancied that, when he was gone, she might possibly attempt to resume possession of the throne. his expectations in this respect were realized. the people of alexandria rallied around cleopatra, and called upon her to take the crown. she did so, feeling, perhaps, some misgivings in respect to the danger which such a step might possibly bring upon her absent boy. she quieted herself, however, by the thought that he was in the hands of his own father, and that he could not possibly come to harm. after some little time had elapsed, and cleopatra was beginning to be well established in her possession of the supreme power at alexandria, her birth-day approached, and arrangements were made for celebrating it in the most magnificent manner. when the day arrived, the whole city was given up to festivities and rejoicing. grand entertainments were given in the palace, and games, spectacles, and plays in every variety, were exhibited and performed in all quarters of the city. cleopatra herself was enjoying a magnificent entertainment, given to the lords and ladies of the court and the officers of her army, in one of the royal palaces. in the midst of this scene of festivity and pleasure, it was announced to the queen that a large box had arrived for her. the box was brought into the apartment. it had the appearance of containing some magnificent present, sent in at that time by some friend in honor of the occasion. the curiosity of the queen was excited to know what the mysterious coffer might contain. she ordered it to be opened; and the guests gathered around, each eager to obtain the first glimpse of the contents. the lid was removed, and a cloth beneath it was raised, when, to the unutterable horror of all who witnessed the spectacle, there was seen the head and hands of cleopatra's beautiful boy, lying among masses of human flesh, which consisted of the rest of his body cut into pieces. the head had been left entire, that the wretched mother might recognize in the pale and lifeless features the countenance of her son. physcon had sent the box to alexandria, with orders that it should be retained until the evening of the birth-day, and then presented publicly to cleopatra in the midst of the festivities of the scene. the shrieks and cries with which she filled the apartments of the palace at the first sight of the dreadful spectacle, and the agony of long-continued and inconsolable grief which followed, showed how well the cruel contrivance of the tyrant was fitted to accomplish its end. it gives us no pleasure to write, and we are sure it can give our readers no pleasure to peruse, such shocking stories of bloody cruelty as these. it is necessary, however, to a just appreciation of the character of the great subject of this history, that we should understand the nature of the domestic influences that reigned in the family from which she sprung. in fact, it is due, as a matter of simple justice to her, that we should know what these influences were, and what were the examples set before her in her early life; since the privileges and advantages which the young enjoy in their early years, and, on the other hand, the evil influences under which they suffer, are to be taken very seriously into the account when we are passing judgment upon the follies and sins into which they subsequently fall. the monster physcon lived, it is true, two or three generations before the great cleopatra; but the character of the intermediate generations, until the time of her birth, continued much the same. in fact, the cruelty, corruption, and vice which reigned in every branch of the royal family increased rather than diminished. the beautiful niece of physcon, who, at the time of her compulsory marriage with him, evinced such an aversion to the monster, had become, at the period of her husband's death, as great a monster of ambition, selfishness, and cruelty as he. she had two sons, lathyrus and alexander. physcon, when he died, left the kingdom of egypt to her by will, authorizing her to associate with her in the government whichever of these two sons she might choose. the oldest was best entitled to this privilege, by his priority of birth; but she preferred the youngest, as she thought that her own power would be more absolute in reigning in conjunction with him, since he would be more completely under her control. the leading powers, however, in alexandria, resisted this plan, and insisted on cleopatra's associating her oldest son, lathyrus, with her in the government of the realm. they compelled her to recall lathyrus from the banishment into which she had sent him, and to put him nominally upon the throne. cleopatra yielded to this necessity, but she forced her son to repudiate his wife, and to take, instead, another woman, whom she fancied she could make more subservient to her will. the mother and the son went on together for a time, lathyrus being nominally king, though her determination that she would rule, and his struggles to resist her intolerable tyranny, made their wretched household the scene of terrible and perpetual quarrels. at last cleopatra seized a number of lathyrus's servants, the eunuchs who were employed in various offices about the palace, and after wounding and mutilating them in a horrible manner, she exhibited them to the populace, saying that it was lathyrus that had inflicted the cruel injuries upon the sufferers, and calling upon them to arise and punish him for his crimes. in this and in other similar ways she awakened among the people of the court and of the city such an animosity against lathyrus, that they expelled him from the country. there followed a long series of cruel and bloody wars between the mother and the son, in the course of which each party perpetrated against the other almost every imaginable deed of atrocity and crime. alexander, the youngest son, was so afraid of his terrible mother, that he did not dare to remain in alexandria with her, but went into a sort of banishment of his own accord. he, however, finally returned to egypt. his mother immediately supposed that he was intending to disturb her possession of power, and resolved to destroy him. he became acquainted with her designs, and, grown desperate by the long-continued pressure of her intolerable tyranny, he resolved to bring the anxiety and terror in which he lived to an end by killing her. this he did, and then fled the country. lathyrus, his brother, then returned, and reigned for the rest of his days in a tolerable degree of quietness and peace. at length lathyrus died, and left the kingdom to his son, ptolemy auletes, who was the great cleopatra's father. we can not soften the picture which is exhibited to our view in the history of this celebrated family, by regarding the mother of auletes, in the masculine and merciless traits and principles which she displayed so energetically throughout her terrible career, as an exception to the general character of the princesses who appeared from time to time in the line. in ambition, selfishness, unnatural and reckless cruelty, and utter disregard of every virtuous principle and of every domestic tie, she was but the type and representative of all the rest. she had two daughters, for example, who were the consistent and worthy followers of such a mother. a passage in the lives of these sisters illustrates very forcibly the kind of sisterly affection which prevailed in the family of the ptolemies. the case was this: there were two princes of syria, a country lying northeast of the mediterranean sea, and so not very far from egypt, who, though they were brothers, were in a state of most deadly hostility to each other. one had attempted to poison the other, and afterward a war had broken out between them, and all syria was suffering from the ravages of their armies. one of the sisters, of whom we have been speaking, married one of these princes. her name was tryphena. after some time, but yet while the unnatural war was still raging between the two brothers, cleopatra, the other sister--the same cleopatra, in fact, that had been divorced from lathyrus at the instance of his mother--espoused the other brother. tryphena was exceedingly incensed against cleopatra for marrying her husband's mortal foe, and the implacable hostility and hate of the sisters was thenceforth added to that which the brothers had before exhibited, to complete the display of unnatural and parricidal passion which this shameful contest presented to the world. in fact, tryphena from this time seemed to feel a new and highly-excited interest in the contest, from her eager desire to revenge herself on her sister. she watched the progress of it, and took an active part in pressing forward the active prosecution of the war. the party of her husband, either from this or some other causes, seemed to be gaining the day. the husband of cleopatra was driven from one part of the country to another, and at length, in order to provide for the security of his wife, he left her in antioch, a large and strongly-fortified city, where he supposed that she would be safe, while he himself was engaged in prosecuting the war in other quarters where his presence seemed to be required. on learning that her sister was at antioch, tryphena urged her husband to attack the place. he accordingly advanced with a strong detachment of the army, and besieged and took the city. cleopatra would, of course, have fallen into his hands as a captive; but, to escape this fate, she fled to a temple for refuge. a temple was considered, in those days, an inviolable sanctuary. the soldiers accordingly left her there. tryphena, however, made a request that her husband would deliver the unhappy fugitive into her hands. she was determined, she said, to kill her. her husband remonstrated with her against this atrocious proposal. "it would be a wholly useless act of cruelty," said he, "to destroy her life. she can do us no possible harm in the future progress of the war, while to murder her under these circumstances will only exasperate her husband and her friends, and nerve them with new strength for the remainder of the contest. and then, besides, she has taken refuge in a temple; and if we violate that sanctuary, we shall incur, by such an act of sacrilege, the implacable displeasure of heaven. consider, too, that she is your sister, and for you to kill her would be to commit an unnatural and wholly inexcusable crime." so saying, he commanded tryphena to say no more upon the subject, for he would on no account consent that cleopatra should suffer any injury whatever. this refusal on the part of her husband to comply with her request only inflamed tryphena's insane resentment and anger the more. in fact, the earnestness with which he espoused her sister's cause, and the interest which he seemed to feel in her fate, aroused tryphena's jealousy. she believed, or pretended to believe, that her husband was influenced by a sentiment of love in so warmly defending her. the object of her hate, from being simply an enemy, became now, in her view, a rival, and she resolved that, at all hazards, she should be destroyed. she accordingly ordered a body of desperate soldiers to break into the temple and seize her. cleopatra fled in terror to the altar, and clung to it with such convulsive force that the soldiers cut her hands off before they could tear her away, and then, maddened by her resistance and the sight of blood, they stabbed her again and again upon the floor of the temple, where she fell. the appalling shrieks with which the wretched victim filled the air in the first moments of her flight and her terror, subsided, as her life ebbed away, into the most awful imprecations of the judgments of heaven upon the head of the unnatural sister whose implacable hate had destroyed her. notwithstanding the specimens that we have thus given of the character and action of this extraordinary family, the government of this dynasty, extending, as it did, through the reigns of thirteen sovereigns and over a period of nearly three hundred years, has always been considered one of the most liberal, enlightened, and prosperous of all the governments of ancient times. we shall have something to say in the next chapter in respect to the internal condition of the country while these violent men were upon the throne. in the mean time, we will here only add, that whoever is inclined, in observing the ambition, the selfishness, the party spirit, the unworthy intrigues, and the irregularities of moral conduct, which modern rulers and statesmen sometimes exhibit to mankind in their personal and political career, to believe in a retrogression and degeneracy of national character as the world advances in age, will be very effectually undeceived by reading attentively a full history of this celebrated dynasty, and reflecting, as he reads, that the narrative presents, on the whole, a fair and honest exhibition of the general character of the men by whom, in ancient times, the world was governed. chapter iii. alexandria. internal administration of the ptolemies.--industry of the people.--its happy effects.--idleness the parent of vice.--an idle aristocracy generally vicious.--degradation and vice.--employment a cure for both.--greatness of alexandria.--situation of its port.--warehouses and granaries.--business of the port.--scenes within the city.--the natives protected in their industry.--public edifices.--the light-house.--fame of the light-house.--its conspicuous position.--mode of lighting the tower.--modern method--the architect of the pharos.--his ingenious stratagem.--ruins of the pharos.--the alexandrian library.--immense magnitude of the library.--the serapion.--the serapis of egypt.--the serapis of greece.--ptolemy's dream.--importance of the statue.--ptolemy's proposal to the king of sinope.--his ultimate success.--mode of obtaining books.--the jewish scriptures.--seclusion of the jews.--interest felt in their scriptures.--jewish slaves in egypt.--ptolemy's designs.--ptolemy liberates the slaves.--their ransom paid.--ptolemy's success.--the septuagint.--early copies of the septuagint.--present copies.--various other plans of the ptolemies.--means of raising money.--heavy taxes.--poverty of the people.--ancient and modern capitals.--liberality of the ptolemies.--splendor and renown of alexandria.--her great rival. it must not be imagined by the reader that the scenes of vicious indulgence, and reckless cruelty and crime, which were exhibited with such dreadful frequency, and carried to such an enormous excess in the palaces of the egyptian kings, prevailed to the same extent throughout the mass of the community during the period of their reign. the internal administration of government, and the institutions by which the industrial pursuits of the mass of the people were regulated, and peace and order preserved, and justice enforced between man and man, were all this time in the hands of men well qualified, on the whole, for the trusts committed to their charge, and in a good degree faithful in the performance of their duties; and thus the ordinary affairs of government, and the general routine of domestic and social life, went on, notwithstanding the profligacy of the kings, in a course of very tolerable peace, prosperity, and happiness. during every one of the three hundred years over which the history of the ptolemies extends, the whole length and breadth of the land of egypt exhibited, with comparatively few interruptions, one wide-spread scene of busy industry. the inundations came at their appointed season, and then regularly retired. the boundless fields which the waters had fertilized were then every where tilled. the lands were plowed; the seed was sown; the canals and water-courses, which ramified from the river in every direction over the ground, were opened or closed, as the case required, to regulate the irrigation. the inhabitants were busy, and, consequently, they were virtuous. and as the sky of egypt is seldom or never darkened by clouds and storms, the scene presented to the eye the same unchanging aspect of smiling verdure and beauty, day after day, and month after month, until the ripened grain was gathered into the store-houses, and the land was cleared for another inundation. we say that the people were virtuous because they were busy; for there is no principle of political economy more fully established than that vice in the social state is the incident and symptom of idleness. it prevails always in those classes of every great population who are either released by the possession of fixed and unchangeable wealth from the necessity, or excluded by their poverty and degradation from the advantage, of useful employment. wealth that is free, and subject to its possessor's control, so that he can, if he will, occupy himself in the management of it, while it sometimes may make individuals vicious, does not generally corrupt classes of men, for it does not make them idle. but wherever the institutions of a country are such as to create an aristocratic class, whose incomes depend on entailed estates, or on fixed and permanent annuities, so that the capital on which they live can not afford them any mental occupation, they are doomed necessarily to inaction and idleness. vicious pleasures and indulgences are, with such a class as a whole, the inevitable result; for the innocent enjoyments of man are planned and designed by the author of nature only for the intervals of rest and repose in a life of activity. they are always found wholly insufficient to satisfy one who makes pleasure the whole end and aim of his being. in the same manner, if, either from the influence of the social institutions of a country, or from the operation of natural causes which human power is unable to control, there is a class of men too low, and degraded, and miserable to be reached by the ordinary inducements to daily toil, so certain are they to grow corrupt and depraved, that degradation has become in all languages a term almost synonymous with vice. there are many exceptions, it is true, to these general laws. many active men are very wicked; and there have been frequent instances of the most exalted virtue among nobles and kings. still, as a general law, it is unquestionably true that vice is the incident of idleness; and the sphere of vice, therefore, is at the top and at the bottom of society--those being the regions in which idleness reigns. the great remedy, too, for vice is employment. to make a community virtuous, it is essential that all ranks and gradations of it, from the highest to the lowest, should have something to do. in accordance with these principles, we observe that, while the most extreme and abominable wickedness seemed to hold continual and absolute sway in the palaces of the ptolemies, and among the nobles of their courts, the working ministers of state, and the men on whom the actual governmental functions devolved, discharged their duties with wisdom and fidelity, and throughout all the ordinary ranks and gradations of society there prevailed generally a very considerable degree of industry, prosperity and happiness. this prosperity prevailed not only in the rural districts of the delta and along the valley of the nile, but also among the merchants, and navigators, and artisans of alexandria. alexandria became, in fact, very soon after it was founded, a very great and busy city. many things conspired to make it at once a great commercial emporium. in the first place, it was the depot of export for all the surplus grain and other agricultural produce which was raised in such abundance along the egyptian valley. this produce was brought down in boats to the upper point of the delta, where the branches of the river divided, and thence down the canopic branch to the city. the city was not, in fact, situated directly upon this branch, but upon a narrow tongue of land, at a little distance from it, near the sea. it was not easy to enter the channel directly, on account of the bars and sand-banks at its mouth, produced by the eternal conflict between the waters of the river and the surges of the sea. the water was deep, however, as alexander's engineers had discovered, at the place where the city was built, and, by establishing the port there, and then cutting a canal across to the nile, they were enabled to bring the river and the sea at once into easy communication. the produce of the valley was thus brought down the river and through the canal to the city. here immense warehouses and granaries were erected for its reception, that it might be safely preserved until the ships that came into the port were ready to take it away. these ships came from syria, from all the coasts of asia minor, from greece, and from rome. they brought the agricultural productions of their own countries, as well as articles of manufacture of various kinds; these they sold to the merchants of alexandria, and purchased the productions of egypt in return. the port of alexandria presented thus a constant picture of life and animation. merchant ships were continually coming and going, or lying at anchor in the roadstead. seamen were hoisting sails, or raising anchors, or rowing their capacious galleys through the water, singing, as they pulled, to the motion of the oars. within the city there was the same ceaseless activity. here groups of men were unloading the canal boats which had arrived from the river. there porters were transporting bales of merchandise or sacks of grain from a warehouse to a pier, or from one landing to another. the occasional parading of the king's guards, or the arrival and departure of ships of war to land or to take away bodies of armed men, were occurrences that sometimes intervened to interrupt, or as perhaps the people then would have said, to adorn this scene of useful industry; and now and then, for a brief period, these peaceful vocations would be wholly suspended and set aside by a revolt or by a civil war, waged by rival brothers against each other, or instigated by the conflicting claims of a mother and son. these interruptions, however, were comparatively few, and, in ordinary cases, not of long continuance. it was for the interest of all branches of the royal line to do as little injury as possible to the commercial and agricultural operations of the realm. in fact, it was on the prosperity of those operations that the revenues depended. the rulers were well aware of this, and so, however implacably two rival princes may have hated one another, and however desperately each party may have struggled to destroy all active combatants whom they should find in arms against them, they were both under every possible inducement to spare the private property and the lives of the peaceful population. this population, in fact, engaged thus in profitable industry, constituted, with the avails of their labors, the very estate for which the combatants were contending. seeing the subject in this light, the egyptian sovereigns, especially alexander and the earlier ptolemies, made every effort in their power to promote the commercial greatness of alexandria. they built palaces, it is true, but they also built warehouses. one of the most expensive and celebrated of all the edifices that they reared was the light-house which has been already alluded to. this light-house was a lofty tower, built of white marble. it was situated upon the island of pharos, opposite to the city, and at some distance from it. there was a sort of isthmus of shoals and sand-bars connecting the island with the shore. over these shallows a pier or causeway was built, which finally became a broad and inhabited neck. the principal part of the ancient city, however, was on the main land. the curvature of the earth requires that a light-house on a coast should have a considerable elevation, otherwise its summit would not appear above the horizon, unless the mariner were very near. to attain this elevation, the architects usually take advantage of some hill or cliff, or rocky eminence near the shore. there was, however, no opportunity to do this at pharos; for the island was, like the main land, level and low. the requisite elevation could only be attained, therefore, by the masonry of an edifice, and the blocks of marble necessary for the work had to be brought from a great distance. the alexandrian light-house was reared in the time of ptolemy philadelphus, the second monarch in the line. no pains or expense were spared in its construction. the edifice, when completed, was considered one of the seven wonders of the world. it was indebted for its fame, however, in some degree, undoubtedly to the conspicuousness of its situation, rising, as it did, at the entrance of the greatest commercial emporium of its time, and standing there, like a pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night, to attract the welcome gaze of every wandering mariner whose ship came within its horizon, and to awaken his gratitude by tendering him its guidance and dispelling his fears. the light at the top of the tower was produced by a fire, made of such combustibles as would emit the brightest flame. this fire burned slowly through the day, and then was kindled up anew when the sun went down, and was continually replenished through the night with fresh supplies of fuel. in modern times, a much more convenient and economical mode is adopted to produce the requisite illumination. a great blazing lamp burns brilliantly in the center of the lantern of the tower, and all that part of the radiation from the flame which would naturally have beamed upward, or downward, or laterally, or back toward the land, is so turned by a curious system of reflectors and polyzonal lenses, most ingeniously contrived and very exactly adjusted, as to be thrown forward in one broad and thin, but brilliant sheet of light, which shoots out where its radiance is needed, over the surface of the sea. before these inventions were perfected, far the largest portion of the light emitted by the illumination of light-house towers streamed away wastefully in landward directions, or was lost among the stars. of course, the glory of erecting such an edifice as the pharos of alexandria, and of maintaining it in the performance of its functions, was very great; the question might, however, very naturally arise whether this glory was justly due to the architect through whose scientific skill the work was actually accomplished, or to the monarch by whose power and resources the architect was sustained. the name of the architect was sostratus. he was a greek. the monarch was, as has already been stated, the second ptolemy, called commonly ptolemy philadelphus. ptolemy ordered that, in completing the tower, a marble tablet should be built into the wall, at a suitable place near the summit, and that a proper inscription should be carved upon it, with his name as the builder of the edifice conspicuous thereon. sostratus preferred inserting his own name. he accordingly made the tablet and set it in its place. he cut the inscription upon the face of it, in greek characters, with his own name as the author of the work. he did this secretly, and then covered the face of the tablet with an artificial composition, made with lime, to imitate the natural surface of the stone. on this outer surface he cut a new inscription, in which he inserted the name of the king. in process of time the lime moldered away, the king's inscription disappeared, and his own, which thenceforward continued as long as the building endured, came out to view. the pharos was said to have been four hundred feet high. it was famed throughout the world for many centuries; nothing, however, remains of it now but a heap of useless and unmeaning ruins. besides the light that beamed from the summit of this lofty tower, there was another center of radiance and illumination in ancient alexandria, which was in some respects still more conspicuous and renowned, namely, an immense library and museum established and maintained by the ptolemies. the museum, which was first established, was not, as its name might now imply, a collection of curiosities, but an institution of learning, consisting of a body of learned men, who devoted their time to philosophical and scientific pursuits. the institution was richly endowed, and magnificent buildings were erected for its use. the king who established it began immediately to make a collection of books for the use of the members of the institution. this was attended with great expense, as every book that was added to the collection required to be transcribed with a pen on parchment or papyrus with infinite labor and care. great numbers of scribes were constantly employed upon this work at the museum. the kings who were most interested in forming this library would seize the books that were possessed by individual scholars, or that were deposited in the various cities of their dominions, and then, causing beautiful copies of them to be made by the scribes of the museum, they would retain the originals for the great alexandrian library, and give the copies to the men or the cities that had been thus despoiled. in the same manner they would borrow, as they called it, from all travelers who visited egypt, any valuable books which they might have in their possession, and, retaining the originals, give them back copies instead. in process of time the library increased to four hundred thousand volumes. there was then no longer any room in the buildings of the museum for further additions. there was, however, in another part of the city, a great temple called the serapion. this temple was a very magnificent edifice, or, rather, group of edifices, dedicated to the god serapis. the origin and history of this temple were very remarkable. the legend was this: it seems that one of the ancient and long-venerated gods of the egyptians was a deity named serapis. he had been, among other divinities, the object of egyptian adoration ages before alexandria was built or the ptolemies reigned. there was also, by a curious coincidence, a statue of the same name at a great commercial town named sinope, which was built upon the extremity of a promontory which projected from asia minor into the euxine sea. sinope was, in some sense, the alexandria of the north, being the center and seat of a great portion of the commerce of that quarter of the world. the serapis of sinope was considered as the protecting deity of seamen, and the navigators who came and went to and from the city made sacrifices to him, and offered him oblations and prayers, believing that they were, in a great measure, dependent upon some mysterious and inscrutable power which he exercised for their safety in storms. they carried the knowledge of his name, and tales of his imaginary interpositions, to all the places that they visited; and thus the fame of the god became extended, first, to all the coasts of the euxine sea, and subsequently to distant provinces and kingdoms. the serapis of sinope began to be considered every where as the tutelar god of seamen. accordingly, when the first of the ptolemies was forming his various plans for adorning and aggrandizing alexandria, he received, he said, one night, a divine intimation in a dream that he was to obtain the statue of serapis from sinope, and set it up in alexandria, in a suitable temple which he was in the mean time to erect in honor of the god. it is obvious that very great advantages to the city would result from the accomplishment of this design. in the first place, a temple to the god serapis would be a new distinction for it in the minds of the rural population, who would undoubtedly suppose that the deity honored by it was their own ancient god. then the whole maritime and nautical interest of the world, which had been, accustomed to adore the god of sinope, would turn to alexandria as the great center of religious attraction, if their venerated idol could be carried and placed in a new and magnificent temple built expressly for him there. alexandria could never be the chief naval port and station of the world, unless it contained the sanctuary and shrine of the god of seamen. ptolemy sent accordingly to the king of sinope and proposed to purchase the idol. the embassage was, however, unsuccessful. the king refused to give up the god. the negotiations were continued for two years, but all in vain. at length, on account of some failure in the regular course of the seasons on that coast, there was a famine there, which became finally so severe that the people of the city were induced to consent to give up their deity to the egyptians in exchange for a supply of corn. ptolemy sent the corn and received the idol. he then built the temple, which, when finished, surpassed in grandeur and magnificence almost every sacred structure in the world. it was in this temple that the successive additions to the alexandrian library were deposited, when the apartments of the museum became full. in the end there were four hundred thousand rolls or volumes in the museum, and three hundred thousand in the serapion. the former was called the parent library, and the latter, being, as it were, the offspring of the first, was called the daughter. ptolemy philadelphus, who interested himself very greatly in collecting this library, wished to make it a complete collection of all the books in the world. he employed scholars to read and study, and travelers to make extensive tours, for the purpose of learning what books existed among all the surrounding nations; and, when he learned of their existence, he spared no pains or expense in attempting to procure either the originals themselves, or the most perfect and authentic copies of them. he sent to athens and obtained the works of the most celebrated greek historians, and then causing, as in other cases, most beautiful transcripts to be made, he sent the transcripts back to athens, and a very large sum of money with them as an equivalent for the difference of value between originals and copies in such an exchange. in the course of the inquiries which ptolemy made into the literature of the surrounding nations, in his search for accessions to his library, he heard that the jews had certain sacred writings in their temple at jerusalem, comprising a minute and extremely interesting history of their nation from the earliest periods, and also many other books of sacred prophecy and poetry. these books, which were, in fact, the hebrew scriptures of the old testament, were then wholly unknown to all nations except the jews, and among the jews were known only to priests and scholars. they were kept sacred at jerusalem. the jews would have considered them as profaned in being exhibited to the view of pagan nations. in fact, the learned men of other countries would not have been able to read them; for the jews secluded themselves so closely from the rest of mankind, that their language was, in that age, scarcely ever heard beyond the confines of judea and galilee. ptolemy very naturally thought that a copy of these sacred books would be a great acquisition to his library. they constituted, in fact, the whole literature of a nation which was, in some respects, the most extraordinary that ever existed on the globe. ptolemy conceived the idea, also, of not only adding to his library a copy of these writings in the original hebrew, but of causing a translation of them to be made into greek, so that they might easily be read by the greek and roman scholars who were drawn in great numbers to his capital by the libraries and the learned institutions which he had established there. the first thing to be effected, however, in accomplishing either of these plans, was to obtain the consent of the jewish authorities. they would probably object to giving up any copy of their sacred writings at all. there was one circumstance which led ptolemy to imagine that the jews would, at that time particularly, be averse to granting any request of such a nature coming from an egyptian king, and that was, that during certain wars which had taken place in previous reigns, a considerable number of prisoners had been taken by the egyptians, and had been brought to egypt as captives, where they had been sold to the inhabitants, and were now scattered over the land as slaves. they were employed as servile laborers in tilling the fields, or in turning enormous wheels to pump up water from the nile. the masters of these hapless bondmen conceived, like other slave-holders, that they had a right of property in their slaves. this was in some respects true, since they had bought them of the government at the close of the war for a consideration; and though they obviously derived from this circumstance no valid proprietary right or claim as against the men personally, it certainly would seem that it gave them a just claim against the government of whom they bought, in case of subsequent manumission. ptolemy or his minister, for it can not now be known who was the real actor in these transactions, determined on liberating these slaves and sending them back to their native land, as a means of propitiating the jews and inclining them to listen favorably to the request which he was about to prefer for a copy of their sacred writings. he, however, paid to those who held the captives a very liberal sum for ransom. the ancient historians, who never allow the interest of their narratives to suffer for want of a proper amplification on their part of the scale on which the deeds which they record were performed, say that the number of slaves liberated on this occasion was a hundred and twenty thousand, and the sum paid for them, as compensation to the owners, was six hundred talents, equal to six hundred thousand dollars.[ ] [footnote : it will be sufficiently accurate for the general reader of history to consider the greek talent, referred to in such transactions as these, as equal in english money to two hundred and fifty pounds, in american to a thousand dollars. it is curious to observe that, large as the total was that was paid for the liberation of these slaves, the amount paid for each individual was, after all, only a sum equal to about five dollars.] and yet this was only a preliminary expense to pave the way for the acquisition of a single series of books, to add to the variety of the immense collection. after the liberation and return of the captives, ptolemy sent a splendid embassage to jerusalem, with very respectful letters to the high priest, and with very magnificent presents. the embassadors were received with the highest honors. the request of ptolemy that he should be allowed to take a copy of the sacred books for his library was very readily granted. the priests caused copies to be made of all the sacred writings. these copies were executed in the most magnificent style, and were splendidly illuminated with letters of gold. the jewish government also, at ptolemy's request, designated a company of hebrew scholars, six from each tribe--men learned in both the greek and hebrew languages--to proceed to alexandria, and there, at the museum, to make a careful translation of the hebrew books into greek. as there were twelve tribes, and six translators chosen from each, there were seventy-two translators in all. they made their translation, and it was called the _septuagint_, from the latin _septuaginta duo_, which means seventy-two. although out of judea there was no feeling of reverence for these hebrew scriptures as books of divine authority, there was still a strong interest felt in them as very entertaining and curious works of history, by all the greek and roman scholars who frequented alexandria to study at the museum. copies were accordingly made of the septuagint translation, and were taken to other countries; and there, in process of time, copies of the copies were made, until at length the work became extensively circulated throughout the whole learned world. when, finally, christianity became extended over the roman empire, the priests and monks looked with even a stronger interest than the ancient scholars had felt upon this early translation of so important a portion of the sacred scriptures. they made new copies for abbeys, monasteries, and colleges; and when, at length, the art of printing was discovered, this work was one of the first on which the magic power of typography was tried. the original manuscript made by the scribes of the seventy-two, and all the early transcripts which were made from it, have long since been lost or destroyed; but, instead of them, we have now hundreds of thousands of copies in compact printed volumes, scattered among the public and private libraries of christendom. in fact, now, after the lapse of two thousand years, a copy of ptolemy's septuagint may be obtained of any considerable bookseller in any country of the civilized world; and though it required a national embassage, and an expenditure, if the accounts are true, of more than a million of dollars, originally to obtain it, it may be procured without difficulty now by two days' wages of an ordinary laborer. besides the building of the pharos, the museum, and the temple of serapis, the early ptolemies formed and executed a great many other plans tending to the same ends which the erection of these splendid edifices was designed to secure, namely, to concentrate in alexandria all possible means of attraction, commercial, literary, and religious, so as to make the city the great center of interest, and the common resort for all mankind. they raised immense revenues for these and other purposes by taxing heavily the whole agricultural produce of the valley of the nile. the inundations, by the boundless fertility which they annually produced, supplied the royal treasuries. thus the abyssinian rains at the sources of the nile built the pharos at its mouth, and endowed the alexandrian library. the taxes laid upon the people of egypt to supply the ptolemies with funds were, in fact, so heavy, that only the bare means of subsistence were left to the mass of the agricultural population. in admiring the greatness and glory of the city, therefore, we must remember that there was a gloomy counterpart to its splendor in the very extended destitution and poverty to which the mass of the people were everywhere doomed. they lived in hamlets of wretched huts along the banks of the river, in order that the capital might be splendidly adorned with temples and palaces. they passed their lives in darkness and ignorance, that seven hundred thousand volumes of expensive manuscripts might be enrolled at the museum for the use of foreign philosophers and scholars. the policy of the ptolemies was, perhaps, on the whole, the best, for the general advancement and ultimate welfare of mankind, which could have been pursued in the age in which they lived and acted; but, in applauding the results which they attained, we must not wholly forget the cost which they incurred in attaining them. at the same cost, we could, at the present day, far surpass them. if the people of the united states will surrender the comforts and conveniences which they individually enjoy--if the farmers scattered in their comfortable homes on the hill-sides and plains throughout the land will give up their houses, their furniture, their carpets, their books, and the privileges of their children, and then--withholding from the produce of their annual toil only a sufficient reservation to sustain them and their families through the year, in a life like that of a beast of burden, spent in some miserable and naked hovel--send the rest to some hereditary sovereign residing upon the atlantic sea-board, that he may build with the proceeds a splendid capital, they may have an alexandria now that will infinitely exceed the ancient city of the ptolemies in splendor and renown. the nation, too, would, in such a case, pay for its metropolis the same price, precisely, that the ancient egyptians paid for theirs. the ptolemies expended the revenues which they raised by this taxation mainly in a very liberal and enlightened manner, for the accomplishment of the purposes which they had in view. the building of the pharos, the removal of the statue of serapis, and the endowment of the museum and the library were great conceptions, and they were carried into effect in the most complete and perfect manner. all the other operations which they devised and executed for the extension and aggrandizement of the city were conceived and executed in the same spirit of scientific and enlightened liberality. streets were opened; the most splendid palaces were built; docks, piers and breakwaters were constructed, and fortresses and towers were armed and garrisoned. then every means was employed to attract to the city a great concourse from all the most highly-civilized nations then existing. the highest inducements were offered to merchants, mechanics, and artisans to make the city their abode. poets, painters, sculptors, and scholars of every nation and degree were made welcome, and every facility was afforded them for the prosecution of their various pursuits. these plans were all eminently successful. alexandria rose rapidly to the highest consideration and importance; and, at the time when cleopatra--born to preside over this scene of magnificence and splendor--came upon the stage, the city had but one rival in the world. that rival was rome. chapter iv. cleopatra's father. rome the rival of alexandria.--extent of their rule.--extension of the roman empire.--cleopatra's father.--ptolemy's ignoble birth.--caesar and pompey.--ptolemy purchases the alliance of rome.--taxes to raise the money.--revolt at alexandria.--ptolemy's flight.--berenice.--her marriage with seleucus.--cleopatra's early life.--ptolemy an object of contempt.--ptolemy's interview with cato.--character of cato.--ptolemy's reception.--cato's advice to him.--ptolemy arrives at rome.--his application to pompey.--action of the roman senate.--plans for restoring ptolemy.--measures of berenice.--her embassage to rome.--ptolemy's treachery.--its consequences.--opposition to ptolemy.--the prophecy.--attempts to evade the oracle.--gabinius undertakes the cause.--mark antony.--his history and character.--antony in greece.--he joins gabinius.--danger of crossing the deserts.--armies destroyed.--mark antony's character.--his personal appearance.--march across the desert.--pelusium taken.--march across the delta.--success of the romans.--berenice a prisoner.--fate of archelaus.--grief of antony.--unnatural joy of ptolemy. when the time was approaching in which cleopatra appeared upon the stage, rome was perhaps the only city that could be considered as the rival of alexandria, in the estimation of mankind, in respect to interest and attractiveness as a capital. in one respect, rome was vastly superior to the egyptian metropolis, and that was in the magnitude and extent of the military power which it wielded among the nations of the earth. alexandria ruled over egypt, and over a few of the neighboring coasts and islands; but in the course of the three centuries during which she had been acquiring her greatness and fame, the roman empire had extended itself over almost the whole civilized world. egypt had been, thus far, too remote to be directly reached; but the affairs of egypt itself became involved at length with the operations of the roman power, about the time of cleopatra's birth, in a very striking and peculiar manner; and as the consequences of the transaction were the means of turning the whole course of the queen's subsequent history, a narration of it is necessary to a proper understanding of the circumstances under which she commenced her career. in fact, it was the extension of the roman empire to the limits of egypt, and the connections which thence arose between the leading roman generals and the egyptian sovereign, which have made the story of this particular queen so much more conspicuous, as an object of interest and attention to mankind, than that of any other one of the ten cleopatras who rose successively in the same royal line. ptolemy auletes, cleopatra's father, was perhaps, in personal character, the most dissipated, degraded, and corrupt of all the sovereigns in the dynasty. he spent his whole time in vice and debauchery. the only honest accomplishment that he seemed to possess was his skill in playing upon the flute; of this he was very vain. he instituted musical contests, in which the musical performers of alexandria played for prizes and crowns; and he himself was accustomed to enter the lists with the rest as a competitor. the people of alexandria, and the world in general, considered such pursuits as these wholly unworthy the attention of the representative of so illustrious a line of sovereigns, and the abhorrence which they felt for the monarch's vices and crimes was mingled with a feeling of contempt for the meanness of his ambition. there was a doubt in respect to his title to the crown, for his birth, on the mother's side, was irregular and ignoble. instead, however, of attempting to confirm and secure his possession of power by a vigorous and prosperous administration of the government, he wholly abandoned all concern in respect to the course of public affairs; and then, to guard against the danger of being deposed, he conceived the plan of getting himself recognized at rome as one of the allies of the roman people. if this were once done, he supposed that the roman government would feel under an obligation to sustain him on his throne in the event of any threatened danger. the roman government was a sort of republic, and the two most powerful men in the state at this time were pompey and caesar. caesar was in the ascendency at rome at the time that ptolemy made his application for an alliance. pompey was absent in asia minor, being engaged in prosecuting a war with mithradates, a very powerful monarch, who was at that time resisting the roman power. caesar was very deeply involved in debt, and was, moreover, very much in need of money, not only for relief from existing embarrassments, but as a means of subsequent expenditure, to enable him to accomplish certain great political schemes which he was entertaining. after many negotiations and delays, it was agreed that caesar would exert his influence to secure an alliance between the roman people and ptolemy, on condition that ptolemy paid him the sum of six thousand talents, equal to about six millions of dollars. a part of the money, caesar said, was for pompey. the title of ally was conferred, and ptolemy undertook to raise the money which he had promised by increasing the taxes of his kingdom. the measures, however, which he thus adopted for the purpose of making himself the more secure in his possession of the throne, proved to be the means of overthrowing him. the discontent and disaffection of his people, which had been strong and universal before, though suppressed and concealed, broke out now into open violence. that there should be laid upon them, in addition to all their other burdens, these new oppressions, heavier than those which they had endured before, and exacted for such a purpose too, was not to be endured. to be compelled to see their country sold on any terms to the roman people was sufficiently hard to bear; but to be forced to raise, themselves, and pay the price of the transfer, was absolutely intolerable. alexandria commenced a revolt. ptolemy was not a man to act decidedly against such a demonstration, or, in fact, to evince either calmness or courage in any emergency whatever. his first thought was to escape from alexandria to save his life. his second, to make the best of his way to rome, to call upon the roman people to come to the succor of their ally! ptolemy left five children behind him in his flight the eldest was the princess berenice, who had already reached maturity. the second was the great cleopatra, the subject of this history. cleopatra was, at this time, about eleven years old. there were also two sons, but they were very young. one of them was named ptolemy. the alexandrians determined on raising berenice to the throne in her father's place, as soon as his flight was known. they thought that the sons were too young to attempt to reign in such an emergency, as it was very probable that auletes, the father, would attempt to recover his kingdom. berenice very readily accepted the honor and power which were offered to her. she established herself in her father's palace, and began her reign in great magnificence and splendor. in process of time she thought that her position would be strengthened by a marriage with a royal prince from some neighboring realm. she first sent embassadors to make proposals to a prince of syria named antiochus. the embassadors came back, bringing word that antiochus was dead, but that he had a brother named seleucus, upon whom the succession fell. berenice then sent them back to make the same offers to him. he accepted the proposals, came to egypt, and he and berenice were married. after trying him for a while, berenice found that, for some reason or other, she did not like him as a husband, and, accordingly she caused him to be strangled. at length, after various other intrigues and much secret management, berenice succeeded in a second negotiation, and married a prince, or a pretended prince, from some country of asia minor, whose name was archelaus. she was better pleased with this second husband than she had been with the first, and she began, at last, to feel somewhat settled and established on her throne, and to be prepared, as she thought, to offer effectual resistance to her father in case he should ever attempt to return. it was in the midst of the scenes, and surrounded by the influences which might be expected to prevail in the families of such a father and such a sister, that cleopatra spent those years of life in which the character is formed. during all these revolutions, and exposed to all these exhibitions of licentious wickedness, and of unnatural cruelty and crime, she was growing up in the royal palaces a spirited and beautiful, but indulged and neglected child. in the mean time, auletes, the father, went on toward rome. so far as his character and his story were known among the surrounding nations, he was the object of universal obloquy, both on account of his previous career of degrading vice, and now, still more, for this ignoble flight from the difficulties in which his vices and crimes had involved him. he stopped, on the way, at the island of rhodes. it happened that cato, the great roman philosopher and general, was at rhodes at this time. cato was a man of stern, unbending virtue, and of great influence at that period in public affairs. ptolemy sent a messenger to inform cato of his arrival, supposing, of course, that the roman general would hasten, on hearing of the fact, to pay his respects to so great a personage as he, a king of egypt--a ptolemy--though suffering under a temporary reverse of fortune. cato directed the messenger to reply that, so far as he was aware, he had no particular business with ptolemy. "say, however, to the king," he added, "that, if he has any business with me, he may call and see me, if he pleases." ptolemy was obliged to suppress his resentment and submit. he thought it very essential to the success of his plans that he should see cato, and secure, if possible, his interest and co-operation; and he consequently made preparations for paying, instead of receiving, the visit, intending to go in the greatest royal state that he could command. he accordingly appeared at cato's lodgings on the following day, magnificently dressed, and accompanied by many attendants. cato, who was dressed in the plainest and most simple manner, and whose apartment was furnished in a style corresponding with the severity of his character, did not even rise when the king entered the room. he simply pointed with his hand, and bade the visitor take a seat. ptolemy began to make a statement of his case, with a view to obtaining cato's influence with the roman people to induce them to interpose in his behalf. cato, however, far from evincing any disposition to espouse his visitor's cause, censured him, in the plainest terms, for having abandoned his proper position in his own kingdom, to go and make himself a victim and a prey for the insatiable avarice of the roman leaders. "you can do nothing at rome," he said, "but by the influence of bribes; and all the resources of egypt will not be enough to satisfy the roman greediness for money." he concluded by recommending him to go back to alexandria, and rely for his hopes of extrication from the difficulties which surrounded him on the exercise of his own energy and resolution there. ptolemy was greatly abashed at this rebuff, but, on consultation with his attendants and followers, it was decided to be too late now to return. the whole party accordingly re-embarked on board their galleys, and pursued their way to rome. ptolemy found, on his arrival at the city, that caesar was absent in gaul, while pompey, on the other hand, who had returned victorious from his campaigns against mithradates, was now the great leader of influence and power at the capitol. this change of circumstances was not, however, particularly unfavorable; for ptolemy was on friendly terms with pompey, as he had been with caesar. he had assisted him in his wars with mithradates by sending him a squadron of horse, in pursuance of his policy of cultivating friendly relations with the roman people by every means in his power. besides, pompey had received a part of the money which ptolemy had paid to caesar as the price of the roman alliance, and was to receive his share of the rest in case ptolemy should ever be restored. pompey was accordingly interested in favoring the royal fugitive's cause. he received him in his palace, entertained him in magnificent style, and took immediate measures for bringing his cause before the roman senate, urging upon that body the adoption of immediate and vigorous measures for effecting his restoration, as an ally whom they were bound to protect against his rebellious subjects. there was at first some opposition in the roman senate against espousing the cause of such a man, but it was soon put down, being overpowered in part by pompey's authority, and in part silenced by ptolemy's promises and bribes. the senate determined to restore the king to his throne, and began to make arrangements for carrying the measure into effect. the roman provinces nearest to egypt were cilicia and syria, countries situated on the eastern and northeastern coast of the mediterranean sea, north of judea. the forces stationed in these provinces would be, of course, the most convenient for furnishing the necessary troops for the expedition. the province of cilicia was under the command of the consul lentulus. lentulus was at this time at rome; he had repaired to the capital for some temporary purpose, leaving his province and the troops stationed there under the command, for the time, of a sort of lieutenant general named gabinius. it was concluded that this lentulus, with his syrian forces, should undertake the task of reinstating ptolemy on his throne. while these plans and arrangements were yet immature, a circumstance occurred which threatened, for a time, wholly to defeat them. it seems that when cleopatra's father first left egypt, he had caused a report to be circulated there that he had been killed in the revolt. the object of this stratagem was to cover and conceal his flight. the government of berenice soon discovered the truth, and learned that the fugitive had gone in the direction of rome. they immediately inferred that he was going to appeal to the roman people for aid, and they determined that, if that were the case, the roman people, before deciding in his favor, should have the opportunity to hear their side of the story as well as his. they accordingly made preparations at once for sending a very imposing embassage to rome. the deputation consisted of more than a hundred persons. the object of berenice's government in sending so large a number was not only to evince their respect for the roman people, and their sense of the magnitude of the question at issue, but also to guard against any efforts that ptolemy might make to intercept the embassage on the way, or to buy off the members of it by bribes. the number, however large as it was, proved insufficient to accomplish this purpose. the whole roman world was at this time in such a condition of disorder and violence, in the hands of the desperate and reckless military leaders who then bore sway, that there were everywhere abundant facilities for the commission of any conceivable crime. ptolemy contrived, with the assistance of the fierce partisans who had espoused his cause, and who were deeply interested in his success on account of the rewards which were promised them, to waylay and destroy a large proportion of this company before they reached rome. some were assassinated; some were poisoned; some were tampered with and bought off by bribes. a small remnant reached rome; but they were so intimidated by the dangers which surrounded them, that they did not dare to take any public action in respect to the business which had been committed to their charge. ptolemy began to congratulate himself on having completely circumvented his daughter in her efforts to protect herself against his designs. instead of that, however, it soon proved that the effect of this atrocious treachery was exactly the contrary of what its perpetrators had expected. the knowledge of the facts became gradually extended among the people of rome and it awakened a universal indignation. the party who had been originally opposed to ptolemy's cause seized the opportunity to renew their opposition; and they gained so much strength from the general odium which ptolemy's crimes had awakened, that pompey found it almost impossible to sustain his cause. at length the party opposed to ptolemy found, or pretended to find, in certain sacred books, called the sibylline oracles, which were kept in the custody of the priests, and were supposed to contain prophetic intimations of the will of heaven in respect to the conduct of public affairs, the following passage: _"if a king of egypt should apply to you for aid, treat him in a friendly manner, but do not furnish him with troops; for if you do, you will incur great danger."_ this made new difficulty for ptolemy's friends. they attempted, at first, to evade this inspired injunction by denying the reality of it. there was no such passage to be found, they said. it was all an invention of their enemies. this point seems to have been overruled, and then they attempted to give the passage some other than the obvious interpretation. finally they maintained that, although it prohibited their furnishing ptolemy himself with troops, it did not forbid their sending an armed force into egypt under leaders of their own. _that_ they could certainly do; and then, when the rebellion was suppressed, and berenice's government overthrown, they could invite ptolemy to return to his kingdom and resume his crown in a peaceful manner. this, they alleged, would not be "furnishing him with troops," and, of course would not be disobeying the oracle. these attempts to evade the direction of the oracle on the part of ptolemy's friends, only made the debates and dissensions between them and his enemies more violent than ever. pompey made every effort in his power to aid ptolemy's cause; but lentulus, after long hesitation and delay, decided that it would not be safe for him to embark in it. at length, however, gabinius, the lieutenant who commanded in syria, was induced to undertake the enterprise. on certain promises which he received from ptolemy, to be performed in case he succeeded, and with a certain encouragement, not very legal or regular, which pompey gave him, in respect to the employment of the roman troops under his command, he resolved to march to egypt. his route, of course, would lie along the shores of the mediterranean sea, and through the desert, to pelusium, which has already been mentioned as the frontier town on this side of egypt. from pelusium he was to march through the heart of the delta to alexandria, and, if successful in his invasion, overthrow the government of berenice and archelaus, and then, inviting ptolemy to return, reinstate him on the throne. in the prosecution of this dangerous enterprise, gabinius relied strongly on the assistance of a very remarkable man, then his second in command, who afterward acted a very important part in the subsequent history of cleopatra. his name was mark antony. antony was born in rome, of a very distinguished family, but his father died when he was very young, and being left subsequently much to himself, he became a very wild and dissolute young man. he wasted the property which his father had left him in folly and vice; and then going on desperately in the same career, he soon incurred enormous debts, and involved himself, in consequence, in inextricable difficulties. his creditors continually harassed him with importunities for money, and with suits at law to compel payments which he had no means of making. he was likewise incessantly pursued by the hostility of the many enemies that he had made in the city by his violence and his crimes. at length he absconded, and went to greece. here gabinius, when on his way to syria, met him, and invited him to join his army rather than to remain where he was in idleness and destitution. antony, who was as proud and lofty in spirit as he was degraded in morals and condition, refused to do this unless gabinius would give him a command. gabinius saw in the daring and reckless energy which antony manifested the indications of the class of qualities which in those days made a successful soldier, and acceded to his terms. he gave him the command of his cavalry. antony distinguished himself in the syrian campaigns that followed, and was now full of eagerness to engage in this egyptian enterprise. in fact, it was mainly his zeal and enthusiasm to embark in the undertaking which was the means of deciding gabinius to consent to ptolemy's proposals. the danger and difficulty which they considered as most to be apprehended in the whole expedition was the getting across the desert to pelusium. in fact, the great protection of egypt had always been her isolation. the trackless and desolate sands, being wholly destitute of water, and utterly void, could be traversed, even by a caravan of peaceful travelers, only with great difficulty and danger. for an army to attempt to cross them, exposed, as the troops would necessarily be, to the assaults of enemies who might advance to meet them on the way, and sure of encountering a terrible opposition from fresh and vigorous bands when they should arrive--wayworn and exhausted by the physical hardships of the way--at the borders of the inhabited country, was a desperate undertaking. many instances occurred in ancient times in which vast bodies of troops, in attempting marches over the deserts by which egypt was surrounded, were wholly destroyed by famine or thirst, or overwhelmed by storms of sand. these difficulties and dangers, however, did not at all intimidate mark antony. the anticipation, in fact, of the glory of surmounting them was one of the main inducements which led him to embark in the enterprise. the perils of the desert constituted one of the charms which made the expedition so attractive. he placed himself, therefore, at the head of his troop of cavalry, and set off across the sands in advance of gabinius, to take pelusium, in order thus to open a way for the main body of the army into egypt. ptolemy accompanied antony. gabinius was to follow. with all his faults, to call them by no severer name, mark antony possessed certain great excellences of character. he was ardent, but then he was cool, collected, and sagacious; and there was a certain frank and manly generosity continually evincing itself in his conduct and character which made him a great favorite among his men. he was at this time about twenty-eight years old, of a tall and manly form, and of an expressive and intellectual cast of countenance. his forehead was high, his nose aquiline, and his eyes full of vivacity and life. he was accustomed to dress in a very plain and careless manner, and he assumed an air of the utmost familiarity and freedom in his intercourse with his soldiers. he would join them in their sports, joke with them, and good-naturedly receive their jokes in return; and take his meals, standing with them around their rude tables, in the open field. such habits of intercourse with his men in a commander of ordinary character would have been fatal to his ascendency over them; but in mark antony's case, these frank and familiar manners seemed only to make the military genius and the intellectual power which he possessed the more conspicuous and the more universally admired. antony conducted his troop of horsemen across the desert in a very safe and speedy manner, and arrived before pelusium. the city was not prepared to resist him. it surrendered at once, and the whole garrison fell into his hands as prisoners of war. ptolemy demanded that they should all be immediately killed. they were rebels, he said, and, as such, ought to be put to death. antony, however, as might have been expected from his character, absolutely refused to allow of any such barbarity. ptolemy, since the power was not yet in his hands, was compelled to submit, and to postpone gratifying the spirit of vengeance which had so long been slumbering in his breast to a future day. he could the more patiently submit to this necessity, since it appeared that the day of his complete and final triumph over his daughter and all her adherents was now very nigh at hand. in fact, berenice and her government, when they heard of the arrival of antony and ptolemy at pelusium, of the fall of that city, and of the approach of gabinius with an overwhelming force of roman soldiers, were struck with dismay. archelaus, the husband of berenice, had been, in former years, a personal friend of antony's. antony considered, in fact, that they were friends still, though required by what the historian calls their duty to fight each other for the possession of the kingdom. the government of berenice raised an army. archelaus took command of it, and advanced to meet the enemy. in the mean time, gabinius arrived with the main body of the roman troops, and commenced his march, in conjunction with antony, toward the capital. as they were obliged to make a circuit to the southward, in order to avoid the inlets and lagoons which, on the northern coast of egypt, penetrate for some distance into the land, their course led them through the heart of the delta. many battles were fought, the romans every where gaining the victory. the egyptian soldiers were, in fact, discontented and mutinous, perhaps, in part, because they considered the government on the side of which they were compelled to engage as, after all a usurpation. at length a great final battle was fought, which settled the controversy. archelaus was slain upon the field, and berenice was taken prisoner; their government was wholly overthrown, and the way was opened for the march of the roman armies to alexandria. mark antony, when judged by our standards, was certainly, as well as ptolemy, a depraved and vicious man; but his depravity was of a very different type from that of cleopatra's father. the difference in the men, in one respect, was very clearly evinced by the objects toward which their interest and attention were respectively turned after this great battle. while the contest had been going on, the king and queen of egypt, archelaus and berenice, were, of course, in the view both of antony and ptolemy, the two most conspicuous personages in the army of their enemies; and while antony would naturally watch with the greatest interest the fate of his friend, the king, ptolemy, would as naturally follow with the highest concern the destiny of his daughter. accordingly, when the battle was over, while the mind of ptolemy might, as we should naturally expect, be chiefly occupied by the fact that his _daughter_ was made a captive, antony's, we might suppose, would be engrossed by the tidings that his _friend_ had been slain. the one rejoiced and the other mourned. antony sought for the body of his friend on the field of battle, and when it was found, he gave himself wholly to the work of providing for it a most magnificent burial. he seemed, at the funeral, to lament the death of his ancient comrade with real and unaffected grief. ptolemy, on the other hand, was overwhelmed with joy at finding his daughter his captive. the long-wished-for hour for the gratification of his revenge had come at last, and the first use which he made of his power when he was put in possession of it at alexandria was to order his daughter to be beheaded. chapter v. accession to the throne. cleopatra.--excitement in alexandria.--ptolemy restored.--acquiescence of the people.--festivities.--popularity of antony.--antony's generosity.--anecdote.--antony and cleopatra.--antony returns to rome.--ptolemy's murders.--pompey and caesar.--close of ptolemy's reign.--settlement of the succession.--accession of cleopatra.--she is married to her brother.--pothinus, the eunuch.--his character and government.--machinations of pothinus.--cleopatra is expelled. --cleopatra's army.--approaching contest.--caesar and pompey. --battle of pharsalia.--pompey at pelusium.--treachery of pothinus.--caesar's pursuit of pompey.--his danger.--caesar at alexandria.--astonishment of the egyptians.--caesar presented with pompey's head.--pompey's seal.--situation of caesar.--his demands.--conduct of pothinus.--quarrels--policy of pothinus. --contentions.--caesar sends to syria for additional troops. at the time when the unnatural quarrel between cleopatra's father and her sister was working its way toward its dreadful termination, as related in the last chapter, she herself was residing at the royal palace in alexandria, a blooming and beautiful girl of about fifteen. fortunately for her, she was too young to take any active part personally in the contention. her two brothers were still younger than herself. they all three remained, therefore, in the royal palaces, quiet spectators of the revolution, without being either benefited or injured by it. it is singular that the name of both the boys was ptolemy. the excitement in the city of alexandria was intense and universal when the roman army entered it to reinstate cleopatra's father upon his throne. a very large portion of the inhabitants were pleased with having the former king restored. in fact, it appears, by a retrospect of the history of kings, that when a legitimate hereditary sovereign or dynasty is deposed and expelled by a rebellious population, no matter how intolerable may have been the tyranny, or how atrocious the crimes by which the patience of the subject was exhausted, the lapse of a very few years is ordinarily sufficient to produce a very general readiness to acquiesce in a restoration; and in this particular instance there had been no such superiority in the government of berenice, during the period while her power continued, over that of her father, which she had displaced, as to make this case an exception to the general rule. the mass of the people, therefore--all those, especially, who had taken no active part in berenice's government--were ready to welcome ptolemy back to his capital. those who had taken such a part were all summarily executed by ptolemy's orders. there was, of course, a great excitement throughout the city on the arrival of the roman army. all the foreign influence and power which had been exercised in egypt thus far, and almost all the officers, whether civil or military, had been greek. the coming of the romans was the introduction of a new element of interest to add to the endless variety of excitements which animated the capital. the restoration of ptolemy was celebrated with games, spectacles, and festivities of every kind, and, of course, next to the king himself, the chief center of interest and attraction in all these public rejoicings would be the distinguished foreign generals by whose instrumentality the end had been gained. mark antony was a special object of public regard and admiration at the time. his eccentric manners, his frank and honest air, his roman simplicity of dress and demeanor, made him conspicuous; and his interposition to save the lives of the captured garrison of pelusium, and the interest which he took in rendering such distinguished funeral honors to the enemy whom his army had slain in battle, impressed the people with the idea of a certain nobleness and magnanimity in his character, which, in spite of his faults, made him an object of general admiration and applause. the very faults of such a man assume often, in the eyes of the world, the guise and semblance of virtues. for example, it is related of antony that, at one time in the course of his life, having a desire to make a present of some kind to a certain person, in requital for a favor which he had received from him, he ordered his treasurer to send a sum of money to his friend--and named for the sum to be sent an amount considerably greater than was really required under the circumstances of the case--acting thus, as he often did, under the influence of a blind and uncalculating generosity. the treasurer, more prudent than his master, wished to reduce the amount, but he did not dare directly to propose a reduction; so he counted out the money, and laid it in a pile in a place where antony was to pass, thinking that when antony saw the amount, he would perceive that it was too great. antony, in passing by, asked what money that was. the treasurer said that it was the sum that he had ordered to be sent as a present to such a person, naming the individual intended. antony was quick to perceive the object of the treasurer's maneuver. he immediately replied, "ah! is that all? i thought the sum i named would make a better appearance than that; send him double the amount." to determine, under such circumstances as these, to double an extravagance merely for the purpose of thwarting the honest attempt of a faithful servant to diminish it, made, too, in so cautious and delicate a way, is most certainly a fault. but it is one of those faults for which the world, in all ages, will persist in admiring and praising the perpetrator. in a word, antony became the object of general attention and favor during his continuance at alexandria. whether he particularly attracted cleopatra's attention at this time or not does not appear. she, however, strongly attracted _his._ he admired her blooming beauty, her sprightliness and wit, and her various accomplishments. she was still, however, so young--being but fifteen years of age, while antony was nearly thirty--that she probably made no very serious impression upon him. a short time after this, antony went back to rome, and did not see cleopatra again for many years. when the two roman generals went away from alexandria, they left a considerable portion of the army behind them, under ptolemy's command, to aid him in keeping possession of his throne. antony returned to rome. he had acquired great renown by his march across the desert, and by the successful accomplishment of the invasion of egypt and the restoration of ptolemy. his funds, too, were replenished by the vast sums paid to him and to gabinius by ptolemy. the amount which ptolemy is said to have agreed to pay as the price of his restoration was two thousand talents--equal to ten millions of dollars--a sum which shows on how great a scale the operations of this celebrated campaign were conducted. ptolemy raised a large portion of the money required for his payments by confiscating the estates belonging to those friends of berenice's government whom he ordered to be slain. it was said, in fact, that the numbers were very much increased of those that were condemned to die, by ptolemy's standing in such urgent need of their property to meet his obligations. antony, through the results of this campaign, found himself suddenly raised from the position of a disgraced and homeless fugitive to that of one of the most wealthy and renowned, and, consequently, one of the most powerful personages in rome. the great civil war broke out about this time between caesar and pompey. antony espoused the cause of caesar. in the mean time, while the civil war between caesar and pompey was raging, ptolemy succeeded in maintaining his seat on the throne, by the aid of the roman soldiers whom antony and gabinius had left him, for about three years. when he found himself drawing toward the close of life, the question arose to his mind to whom he should leave his kingdom. cleopatra was the oldest child, and she was a princess of great promise, both in respect to mental endowments and personal charms. her brothers were considerably younger than she. the claim of a son, though younger, seemed to be naturally stronger than that of a daughter; but the commanding talents and rising influence of cleopatra appeared to make it doubtful whether it would be safe to pass her by. the father settled the question in the way in which such difficulties were usually surmounted in the ptolemy family. he ordained that cleopatra should marry the oldest of her brothers, and that they two should jointly occupy the throne. adhering also, still, to the idea of the alliance of egypt with rome, which had been the leading principle of the whole policy of his reign, he solemnly committed the execution of his will and the guardianship of his children, by a provision of the instrument itself, to the roman senate. the senate accepted the appointment, and appointed pompey as the agent, on their part, to perform the duties of the trust. the attention of pompey was, immediately after that time, too much engrossed by the civil war waged between himself and caesar, to take any active steps in respect to the duties of his appointment. it seemed, however, that none were necessary, for all parties in alexandria appeared disposed, after the death of the king, to acquiesce in the arrangements which he had made, and to join in carrying them into effect. cleopatra was married to her brother--yet, it is true, only a boy. he was about ten years old. she was herself about eighteen. they were both too young to govern; they could only reign. the affairs of the kingdom were, accordingly, conducted by two ministers whom their father had designated. these ministers were pothinus, a eunuch, who was a sort of secretary of state, and achillas, the commander-in-chief of the armies. thus, though cleopatra, by these events, became nominally a queen, her real accession to the throne was not yet accomplished. there were still many difficulties and dangers to be passed through, before the period arrived when she became really a sovereign. she did not, herself, make any immediate attempt to hasten this period, but seems to have acquiesced, on the other hand, very quietly, for a time, in the arrangements which her father had made. pothinus was a eunuch. he had been, for a long time, an officer of government under ptolemy, the father. he was a proud, ambitious, and domineering man, determined to rule, and very unscrupulous in respect to the means which he adopted to accomplish his ends. he had been accustomed to regard cleopatra as a mere child. now that she was queen, he was very unwilling that the real power should pass into her hands. the jealousy and ill will which he felt toward her increased rapidly as he found, in the course of the first two or three years after her father's death, that she was advancing rapidly in strength of character, and in the influence and ascendency which she was acquiring over all around her. her beauty, her accomplishments, and a certain indescribable charm which pervaded all her demeanor, combined to give her great personal power. but, while these things awakened in other minds feelings of interest in cleopatra and attachment to her, they only increased the jealousy and envy of pothinus. cleopatra was becoming his rival. he endeavored to thwart and circumvent her. he acted toward her in a haughty and overbearing manner, in order to keep her down to what he considered her proper place as his ward; for he was yet the guardian both of cleopatra and her husband, and the regent of the realm. cleopatra had a great deal of what is sometimes called spirit, and her resentment was aroused by this treatment. pothinus took pains to enlist her young husband, ptolemy, on his side, as the quarrel advanced. ptolemy was younger, and of a character much less marked and decided than cleopatra. pothinus saw that he could maintain control over him much more easily and for a much longer time than over cleopatra. he contrived to awaken the young ptolemy's jealousy of his wife's rising influence, and to induce him to join in efforts to thwart and counteract it. these attempts to turn her husband against her only aroused cleopatra's resentment the more. hers was not a spirit to be coerced. the palace was filled with the dissensions of the rivals. pothinus and ptolemy began to take measures for securing the army on their side. an open rupture finally ensued, and cleopatra was expelled from the kingdom. she went to syria. syria was the nearest place of refuge, and then, besides, it was the country from which the aid had been furnished by which her father had been restored to the throne when he had been expelled, in a similar manner, many years before. her father, it is true, had gone first to rome; but the succors which he had negotiated for had been sent from syria. cleopatra hoped to obtain the same assistance by going directly there. nor was she disappointed. she obtained an army, and commenced her march toward egypt, following the same track which antony and gabinius had pursued in coming to reinstate her father. pothinus raised an army and went forth to meet her. he took achillas as the commander of the troops, and the young ptolemy as the nominal sovereign; while he, as the young king's guardian and prime minister, exercised the real power. the troops of pothinus advanced to pelusium. here they met the forces of cleopatra coming from the east. the armies encamped not very far from each other, and both sides began to prepare for battle. the battle, however, was not fought. it was prevented by the occurrence of certain great and unforeseen events which at this crisis suddenly burst upon the scene of egyptian history, and turned the whole current of affairs into new and unexpected channels. the breaking out of the civil war between the great roman generals caesar and pompey, and their respective partisans, has already been mentioned as having occurred soon after the death of cleopatra's father, and as having prevented pompey from undertaking the office of executor of the will. this war had been raging ever since that time with terrible fury. its distant thundering had been heard even in egypt, but it was too remote to awaken there any special alarm. the immense armies of these two mighty conquerors had moved slowly--like two ferocious birds of prey, flying through the air, and fighting as they fly--across italy into greece, and from greece, through macedon, into thessaly, contending in dreadful struggles with each other as they advanced, and trampling down and destroying every thing in their way. at length a great final battle had been fought at pharsalia. pompey had been totally defeated. he had fled to the sea-shore, and there, with a few ships and a small number of followers, he had pushed out upon the mediterranean, not knowing whither to fly, and overwhelmed with wretchedness and despair. caesar followed him in eager pursuit. he had a small fleet of galleys with him, on board of which he had embarked two or three thousand men. this was a force suitable, perhaps, for the pursuit of a fugitive, but wholly insufficient for any other design. pompey thought of ptolemy. he remembered the efforts which he himself had made for the cause of ptolemy auletes, at rome, and the success of those efforts in securing that monarch's restoration--an event through which alone the young ptolemy had been enabled to attain the crown. he came, therefore, to pelusium, and, anchoring his little fleet off the shore, sent to the land to ask ptolemy to receive and protect him. pothinus, who was really the commander in ptolemy's army, made answer to this application that pompey should be received and protected, and that he would send out a boat to bring him to the shore. pompey felt some misgivings in respect to this proffered hospitality, but he finally concluded to go to the shore in the boat which pothinus sent for him. as soon as he landed, the egyptians, by pothinus's orders, stabbed and beheaded him on the sand. pothinus and his council had decided that this would be the safest course. if they were to receive pompey, they reasoned, caesar would be made their enemy; if they refused to receive him, pompey himself would be offended, and they did not know which of the two it would be safe to displease; for they did not know in what way, if both the generals were to be allowed to live, the war would ultimately end. "but by killing pompey," they said, "we shall be sure to please caesar and pompey himself will _lie still."_ in the mean time, caesar, not knowing to what part of egypt pompey had fled, pressed on directly to alexandria. he exposed himself to great danger in so doing, for the forces under his command were not sufficient to protect him in case of his becoming involved in difficulties with the authorities there. nor could he, when once arrived on the egyptian coast, easily go away again; for, at the season of the year in which these events occurred, there was a periodical wind which blew steadily toward that part of the coast, and, while it made it very easy for a fleet of ships to go to alexandria, rendered it almost impossible for them to return. caesar was very little accustomed to shrink from danger in any of his enterprises and plans, though still he was usually prudent and circumspect. in this instance, however, his ardent interest in the pursuit of pompey overruled all considerations of personal safety. he arrived at alexandria, but he found that pompey was not there. he anchored his vessels in the port, landed his troops, and established himself in the city. these two events, the assassination of one of the great roman generals on the eastern extremity of the coast, and the arrival of the other, at the same moment, at alexandria, on the western, burst suddenly upon egypt together, like simultaneous claps of thunder. the tidings struck the whole country with astonishment, and immediately engrossed universal attention. at the camps both of cleopatra and ptolemy, at pelusium, all was excitement and wonder. instead of thinking of a battle, both parties were wholly occupied in speculating on the results which were likely to accrue, to one side or to the other, under the totally new and unexpected aspect which public affairs had assumed. of course the thoughts of all were turned toward alexandria. pothinus immediately proceeded to the city, taking with him the young king. achillas, too, either accompanied them, or followed soon afterward. they carried with them the head of pompey, which they had cut off on the shore where they had killed him, and also a seal which they took from his finger. when they arrived at alexandria, they sent the head, wrapped up in a cloth, and also the seal, as presents to caesar. accustomed as they were to the brutal deeds and heartless cruelties of the ptolemies, they supposed that caesar would exult at the spectacle of the dissevered and ghastly head of his great rival and enemy. instead of this, he was shocked and displeased, and ordered the head to be buried with the most solemn and imposing funeral ceremonies. he, however, accepted and kept the seal. the device engraved upon it was a lion holding a sword in his paw--a fit emblem of the characters of the men, who, though in many respects magnanimous and just, had filled the whole world with the terror of their quarrels. the army of ptolemy, while he himself and his immediate counselors went to alexandria, was left at pelusium, under the command of other officers, to watch cleopatra. cleopatra herself would have been pleased, also, to repair to alexandria and appeal to caesar, if it had been in her power to do so; but she was beyond the confines of the country, with a powerful army of her enemies ready to intercept her on any attempt to enter or pass through it. she remained, therefore, at pelusium, uncertain what to do. in the mean time, caesar soon found himself in a somewhat embarrassing situation at alexandria. he had been accustomed, for many years, to the possession and the exercise of the most absolute and despotic power, wherever he might be; and now that pompey, his great rival, was dead, he considered himself the monarch and master of the world. he had not, however, at alexandria, any means sufficient to maintain and enforce such pretensions, and yet he was not of a spirit to abate, on that account, in the slightest degree, the advancing of them. he established himself in the palaces of alexandria as if he were himself the king. he moved, in state, through the streets of the city, at the head of his guards, and displaying the customary emblems of supreme authority used at rome. he claimed the six thousand talents which ptolemy auletes had formerly promised him for procuring a treaty of alliance with rome, and he called upon pothinus to pay the balance due. he said, moreover, that by the will of auletes the roman people had been made the executor; and that it devolved upon him as the roman consul, and, consequently, the representative of the roman people, to assume that trust, and in the discharge of it to settle the dispute between ptolemy and cleopatra, and he called upon ptolemy to prepare and lay before him a statement of his claims, and the grounds on which he maintained his right to the throne to the exclusion of cleopatra. on the other hand, pothinus, who had been as little accustomed to acknowledge a superior as caesar, though his supremacy and domination had been exercised on a somewhat humbler scale, was obstinate and pertinacious in resisting all these demands, though the means and methods which he resorted to were of a character corresponding to his weak and ignoble mind. he fomented quarrels in the streets between the alexandrian populace and caesar's soldiers. he thought that, as the number of troops under caesar's command in the city, and of vessels in the port, was small, he could tease and worry the romans with impunity, though he had not the courage openly to attack them. he pretended to be a friend, or, at least, not an enemy, and yet he conducted himself toward them in an overbearing and insolent manner. he had agreed to make arrangements for supplying them with food, and he did this by procuring damaged provisions of a most wretched quality; and when the soldiers remonstrated, he said to them, that they who lived at other people's cost had no right to complain of their fare. he caused wooden and earthen vessels to be used in the palace, and said, in explanation, that he had been compelled to sell all the gold and silver plate of the royal household to meet the exactions of caesar. he busied himself, too, about the city, in endeavoring to excite odium against caesar's proposal to hear and decide the question at issue between cleopatra and ptolemy. ptolemy was a sovereign, he said, and was not amenable to any foreign power whatever. thus, without the courage or the energy to attempt any open, manly, and effectual system of hostility, he contented himself with making all the difficulty in his power, by urging an incessant pressure of petty, vexatious, and provoking, but useless annoyances. caesar's demands may have been unjust, but they were bold, manly, and undisguised. the eunuch may have been right in resisting them; but the mode was so mean and contemptible, that mankind have always taken part with caesar in the sentiments which they have formed as spectators of the contest. with the very small force which caesar had at his command, and shut up as he was in the midst of a very great and powerful city, in which both the garrison and the population were growing more and more hostile to him every day, he soon found his situation was beginning to be attended with very serious danger. he could not retire from the scene. he probably would not have retired if he could have done so. he remained, therefore, in the city, conducting himself all the time with prudence and circumspection, but yet maintaining, as at first, the same air of confident self-possession and superiority which always characterized his demeanor. he, however, dispatched a messenger forthwith into syria, the nearest country under the roman sway, with orders that several legions which were posted there should be embarked and forwarded to alexandria with the utmost possible celerity. chapter vi. cleopatra and caesar. cleopatra's perplexity.--she resolves to go to alexandria.--cleopatra's message to caesar.--caesar's reply.--apollodorus's stratagem.--cleopatra and caesar--first impressions.--caesar's attachment.--caesar's wife.--his fondness for cleopatra.--cleopatra's foes.--she commits her cause to caesar.--caesar's pretensions.--he sends for ptolemy.--ptolemy's indignation.--his complaints against caesar.--great tumult in the city.--excitement of the populace.--caesar's forces--ptolemy made prisoner.--caesar's address to the people.--its effects.--the mob dispersed.--caesar convenes an assembly.--caesar's decision. --satisfaction of the assembly.--festivals and rejoicings. --pothinus and achillas.--plot of pothinus and achillas.--escape of achillas.--march of the egyptian army.--measures of caesar. --murder of the messengers.--intentions of achillas--cold-blooded assassination.--advance of achillas--caesar's arrangements for defense.--cleopatra and ptolemy.--double dealing of pothinus.--he is detected.--pothinus beheaded--arsinoe and ganymede--flight of arsinoe--she is proclaimed queen by the army.--perplexity of the young ptolemy. in the mean time, while the events related in the last chapter were taking place at alexandria, cleopatra remained anxious and uneasy in her camp, quite uncertain, for a time, what it was best for her to do. she wished to be at alexandria. she knew very well that caesar's power in controlling the course of affairs in egypt would necessarily be supreme. she was, of course, very earnest in her desire to be able to present her cause before him. as it was, ptolemy and pothinus were in communication with the arbiter, and, for aught she knew, assiduously cultivating his favor, while she was far away, her cause unheard, her wrongs unknown, and perhaps even her existence forgotten. of course, under such circumstances, she was very earnest to get to alexandria. but how to accomplish this purpose was a source of great perplexity. she could not march thither at the head of an army, for the army of the king was strongly intrenched at pelusium, and effectually barred the way. she could not attempt to pass alone, or with few attendants, through the country, for every town and village was occupied with garrisons and officers under the orders of pothinus, and she would be certainly intercepted. she had no fleet, and could not, therefore, make the passage by sea. besides, even if she could by any means reach the gates of alexandria, how was she to pass safely through the streets of the city to the palace where caesar resided, since the city, except in caesar's quarters, was wholly in the hands of pothinus's government? the difficulties in the way of accomplishing her object seemed thus almost insurmountable. she was, however, resolved to make the attempt. she sent a message to caesar, asking permission to appear before him and plead her own cause. caesar replied, urging her by all means to come. she took a single boat, and with the smallest number of attendants possible, made her way along the coast to alexandria. the man on whom she principally relied in this hazardous expedition was a domestic named apollodorus. she had, however, some other attendants besides. when the party reached alexandria, they waited until night, and then advanced to the foot of the walls of the citadel. here apollodorus rolled the queen up in a piece of carpeting, and, covering the whole package with a cloth, he tied it with a thong, so as to give it the appearance of a bale of ordinary merchandise, and then throwing the load across his shoulder, he advanced into the city. cleopatra was at this time about twenty-one years of age, but she was of a slender and graceful form, and the burden was, consequently, not very heavy. apollodorus came to the gates of the palace where caesar was residing. the guards at the gates asked him what it was that he was carrying. he said that it was a present for caesar. so they allowed him to pass, and the pretended porter carried his package safely in. when it was unrolled, and cleopatra came out to view, caesar was perfectly charmed with the spectacle. in fact, the various conflicting emotions which she could not but feel under such circumstances as these, imparted a double interest to her beautiful and expressive face, and to her naturally bewitching manners. she was excited by the adventure through which she had passed, and yet pleased with her narrow escape from its dangers. the curiosity and interest which she felt on the one hand, in respect to the great personage into whose presence she had been thus strangely ushered, was very strong; but then, on the other hand, it was chastened and subdued by that feeling of timidity which, in new and unexpected situations like these, and under a consciousness of being the object of eager observation to the other sex, is inseparable from the nature of woman. the conversation which caesar held with cleopatra deepened the impression which her first appearance had made upon him. her intelligence and animation, the originality of her ideas, and the point and pertinency of her mode of expressing them, made her, independently of her personal charms, an exceedingly entertaining and agreeable companion. she, in fact, completely won the great conqueror's heart; and, through the strong attachment to her which he immediately formed, he became wholly disqualified to act impartially between her and her brother in regard to their respective rights to the crown. we call ptolemy cleopatra's brother; for, though he was also, in fact, her husband, still, as he was only ten or twelve years of age at the time of cleopatra's expulsion from alexandria, the marriage had been probably regarded, thus far, only as a mere matter of form. caesar was now about fifty-two. he had a wife, named calpurnia, to whom he had been married about ten years. she was living, at this time, in an unostentatious and quiet manner at rome. she was a lady of an amiable and gentle character, devotedly attached to her husband, patient and forbearing in respect to his faults, and often anxious and unhappy at the thought of the difficulties and dangers in which his ardent and unbounded ambition so often involved him. caesar immediately began to take a very strong interest in cleopatra's cause. he treated her personally with the fondest attention, and it was impossible for her not to reciprocate in some degree the kind feeling with which he regarded her. it was, in fact, something altogether new to her to have a warm and devoted friend, espousing her cause, tendering her protection, and seeking in every way to promote her happiness. her father had all his life neglected her. her brother, of years and understanding totally inferior to hers, whom she had been compelled to make her husband, had become her mortal enemy. it is true that, in depriving her of her inheritance and expelling her from her native land, he had been only the tool and instrument of more designing men. this, however, far from improving the point of view from which she regarded him, made him appear not only hateful, but contemptible too. all the officers of government, also, in the alexandrian court had turned against her, because they had supposed that they could control her brother more easily if she were away. thus she had always been surrounded by selfish, mercenary, and implacable foes. now, for the first time, she seemed to have a friend. a protector had suddenly arisen to support and defend her,--a man of very alluring person and manners, of a very noble and generous spirit, and of the very highest station. he loved her, and she could not refrain from loving him in return. she committed her cause entirely into his hands, confided to him all her interests, and gave herself up wholly into his power. nor was the unbounded confidence which she reposed in him undeserved, so far as related to his efforts to restore her to her throne. the legions which caesar had sent for into syria had not yet arrived, and his situation in alexandria was still very defenseless and very precarious. he did not, however, on this account, abate in the least degree the loftiness and self confidence of the position which he had assumed, but he commenced immediately the work of securing cleopatra's restoration. this quiet assumption of the right and power to arbitrate and decide such a question as that of the claim to the throne, in a country where he had accidentally landed and found rival claimants disputing for the succession, while he was still wholly destitute of the means of enforcing the superiority which he so coolly assumed, marks the immense ascendency which the roman power had attained at this time in the estimation of mankind, and is, besides, specially characteristic of the genius and disposition of caesar. very soon after cleopatra had come to him, caesar sent for the young ptolemy, and urged upon him the duty and expediency of restoring cleopatra. ptolemy was beginning now to attain an age at which he might be supposed to have some opinion of his own on such a question. he declared himself utterly opposed to any such design. in the course of the conversation he learned that cleopatra had arrived at alexandria, and that she was then concealed in caesar's palace. this intelligence awakened in his mind the greatest excitement and indignation. he went away from caesar's presence in a rage. he tore the diadem which he was accustomed to wear in the streets, from his head, threw it down, and trampled it under his feet. he declared to the people that he was betrayed, and displayed the most violent indications of vexation and chagrin. the chief subject of his complaint, in the attempts which he made to awaken the popular indignation against caesar and the romans, was the disgraceful impropriety of the position which his sister had assumed in surrendering herself as she had done to caesar. it is most probable, however, unless his character was very different from that of every other ptolemy in the line, that what really awakened his jealousy and anger was fear of the commanding influence and power to which cleopatra was likely to attain through the agency of so distinguished a protector, rather than any other consequences of his friendship, or any real considerations of delicacy in respect to his sister's good name or his own marital honor. however this may be, ptolemy, together with pothinus and achillas, and all his other friends and adherents, who joined him in the terrible outcry that he made against the coalition which he had discovered between cleopatra and caesar, succeeded in producing a very general and violent tumult throughout the city. the populace were aroused, and began to assemble in great crowds, and full of indignation and anger. some knew the facts, and acted under something like an understanding of the cause of their anger. others only knew that the aim of this sudden outbreak was to assault the romans, and were ready, on any pretext, known or unknown, to join in any deeds of violence directed against these foreign intruders. there were others still, and these, probably, far the larger portion, who knew nothing and understood nothing but that there was to be tumult and a riot in and around the palaces, and were, accordingly, eager to be there. ptolemy and his officers had no large body of troops in alexandria; for the events which had thus far occurred since caesar's arrival had succeeded each other so rapidly, that a very short time had yet elapsed, and the main army remained still at pelusium. the main force, therefore, by which caesar was now attacked, consisted of the population of the city, headed, perhaps, by the few guards which the young king had at his command. caesar, on his part, had but a small portion of his forces at the palace where he was attacked. the rest were scattered about the city. he, however, seems to have felt no alarm. he did not even confine himself to acting on the defensive. he sent out a detachment of his soldiers with orders to seize ptolemy and bring him in a prisoner. soldiers trained, disciplined, and armed as the roman veterans were, and nerved by the ardor and enthusiasm which seemed always to animate troops which were under caesar's personal command, could accomplish almost any undertaking against a mere populace, however numerous or however furiously excited they might be. the soldiers sallied out, seized ptolemy, and brought him in. the populace were at first astounded at the daring presumption of this deed, and then exasperated at the indignity of it, considered as a violation of the person of their sovereign. the tumult would have greatly increased, had it not been that caesar,--who had now attained all his ends in thus having brought cleopatra and ptolemy both within his power,--thought it most expedient to allay it. he accordingly ascended to the window of a tower, or of some other elevated portion of his palace, so high that missiles from the mob below could not reach him, and began to make signals expressive of his wish to address them. when silence was obtained, he made them a speech well calculated to quiet the excitement. he told them that he did not pretend to any right to judge between cleopatra and ptolemy as their superior, but only in the performance of the duty solemnly assigned by ptolemy auletes, the father, to the roman people, whose representative he was. other than this he claimed no jurisdiction in the case; and his only wish, in the discharge of the duty which devolved upon him to consider the cause, was to settle the question in a manner just and equitable to all the parties concerned, and thus arrest the progress of the civil war, which, if not arrested, threatened to involve the country in the most terrible calamities. he counseled them, therefore, to disperse, and no longer disturb the peace of the city. he would immediately take measures for trying the question between cleopatra and ptolemy, and he did not doubt but that they would all be satisfied with his decision. this speech, made, as it was, in the eloquent and persuasive, and yet dignified and imposing manner for which caesar's harangues to turbulent assemblies like these were so famed, produced a great effect. some were convinced, others were silenced; and those whose resentment and anger were not appeased, found themselves deprived of their power by the pacification of the rest. the mob was dispersed, and ptolemy remained with cleopatra in caesar's custody. the next day, caesar, according to his promise, convened an assembly of the principal people of alexandria and officers of state, and then brought out ptolemy and cleopatra, that he might decide their cause. the original will which ptolemy auletes had executed had been deposited in the public archives of alexandria, and carefully preserved there. an authentic copy of it had been sent to rome. caesar caused the original will to be brought out and read to the assembly. the provisions of it were perfectly explicit and clear. it required that cleopatra and ptolemy should be married, and then settled the sovereign power upon them jointly, as king and queen. it recognized the roman commonwealth as the ally of egypt, and constituted the roman government the executor of the will, and the guardian of the king and queen. in fact, so clear and explicit was this document, that the simple reading of it seemed to be of itself a decision of the question. when, therefore, caesar announced that, in his judgment, cleopatra was entitled to share the supreme power with ptolemy, and that it was his duty, as the representative of the roman power and the executor of the will, to protect both the king and the queen in their respective rights, there seemed to be nothing that could be said against his decision. besides cleopatra and ptolemy, there were two other children of ptolemy auletes in the royal family at this time. one was a girl, named arsinoe. the other, a boy, was, singularly enough, named, like his brother, ptolemy. these children were quite young, but caesar thought that it would perhaps gratify the alexandrians, and lead them to acquiesce more readily in his decision, if he were to make some royal provision for them. he accordingly proposed to assign the island of cyprus as a realm for them. this was literally a gift, for cyprus was at this time a roman possession. the whole assembly seemed satisfied with this decision except pothinus. he had been so determined and inveterate an enemy to cleopatra, that, as he was well aware, her restoration must end in his downfall and ruin. he went away from the assembly moodily determining that he would not submit to the decision, but would immediately adopt efficient measures to prevent its being carried into effect. caesar made arrangements for a series of festivals and celebrations, to commemorate and confirm the reestablishment of a good understanding between the king and the queen, and the consequent termination of the war. such celebrations, he judged, would have great influence in removing any remaining animosities from the minds of the people, and restore the dominion of a kind and friendly feeling throughout the city. the people fell in with these measures, and cordially co-operated to give them effect; but pothinus and achillas, though they suppressed all outward expressions of discontent, made incessant efforts in secret to organize a party, and to form plans for overthrowing the influence of caesar, and making ptolemy again the sole and exclusive sovereign. pothinus represented to all whom he could induce to listen to him that caesar's real design was to make cleopatra queen alone, and to depose ptolemy, and urged them to combine with him to resist a policy which would end in bringing egypt under the dominion of a woman. he also formed a plan, in connection with achillas, for ordering the army back from pelusium. the army consisted of thirty thousand men. if that army could be brought to alexandria and kept under pothinus's orders, caesar and his three thousand roman soldiers would be, they thought, wholly at their mercy. there was, however, one danger to be guarded against in ordering the army to march toward the capital, and that was, that ptolemy, while under caesar's influence, might open communication with the officers, and so obtain command of its movements, and thwart all the conspirators' designs. to prevent this, it was arranged between pothinus and achillas that the latter should make his escape from alexandria, proceed immediately to the camp at pelusium, resume the command of the troops there, and conduct them himself to the capital; and that in all these operations, and also subsequently on his arrival, he should obey no orders unless they came to him through pothinus himself. although sentinels and guards were probably stationed at the gates and avenues leading from the city achillas contrived to effect his escape and to join the army. he placed himself at the head of the forces, and commenced his march toward the capital. pothinus remained all the time within the city as a spy, pretending to acquiesce in caesar's decision, and to be on friendly terms with him, but really plotting for his overthrow, and obtaining all the information which his position enabled him to command, in order that he might co-operate with the army and achillas when they should arrive. all these things were done with the utmost secrecy, and so cunning and adroit were the conspirators in forming and executing their plots, that caesar seems to have had no knowledge of the measures which his enemies were taking, until he suddenly heard that the main body of ptolemy's army was approaching the city, at least twenty thousand strong. in the mean time, however, the forces which he had sent for from syria had not arrived, and no alternative was left but to defend the capital and himself as well as he could with the very small force which he had at his disposal. he determined, however, first, to try the effect of orders sent out in ptolemy's name to forbid the approach of the army to the city. two officers were accordingly intrusted with these orders, and sent out to communicate them to achillas. the names of these officers were dioscorides and serapion. it shows in a very striking point of view to what an incredible exaltation the authority and consequence of a sovereign king rose in those ancient days, in the minds of men, that achillas, at the moment when these men made their appearance in the camp, bearing evidently some command from ptolemy in the city, considered it more prudent to kill them at once, without hearing their message, rather than to allow the orders to be delivered and then take the responsibility of disobeying them. if he could succeed in marching to alexandria and in taking possession of the city, and then in expelling caesar and cleopatra and restoring ptolemy to the exclusive possession of the throne, he knew very well that the king would rejoice in the result, and would overlook all irregularities on his part in the means by which he had accomplished it, short of absolute disobedience of a known command. whatever might be the commands that these messengers were bringing him, he supposed that they doubtless originated, not in ptolemy's own free will, but that they were dictated by the authority of caesar. still, they would be commands coming in ptolemy's name, and the universal experience of officers serving under the military despots of those ancient days showed that, rather than to take the responsibility of directly disobeying a royal order once received, it was safer to avoid receiving it by murdering the messengers. achillas therefore directed the officers to be seized and slain. they were accordingly taken off and speared by the soldiers, and then the bodies were borne away. the soldiers, however, it was found, had not done their work effectually. there was no interest for them in such a cold-blooded assassination, and perhaps something like a sentiment of compassion restrained their hands. at any rate, though both the men were desperately wounded, one only died. the other lived and recovered. achillas continued to advance toward the city. caesar, finding that the crisis which was approaching was becoming very serious in its character, took, himself, the whole command within the capital, and began to make the best arrangements possible under the circumstances of the case to defend himself there. his numbers were altogether too small to defend the whole city against the overwhelming force which was advancing to assail it. he accordingly intrenched his troops in the palaces and in the citadel, and in such other parts of the city as it seemed practicable to defend. he barricaded all the streets and avenues leading to these points, and fortified the gates. nor did he, while thus doing all in his power to employ the insufficient means of defense already in his hands to the best advantage, neglect the proper exertions for obtaining succor from abroad. he sent off galleys to syria, to cyprus, to rhodes, and to every other point accessible from alexandria where roman troops might be expected to be found, urging the authorities there to forward re-enforcements to him with the utmost possible dispatch. during all this time cleopatra and ptolemy remained in the palace with caesar, both ostensibly co-operating with him in his councils and measures for defending the city from achillas. cleopatra, of course, was sincere and in earnest in this co-operation; but ptolemy's adhesion to the common cause was very little to be relied upon. although, situated as he was, he was compelled to seem to be on caesar's side, he must have secretly desired that achillas should succeed and caesar's plans be overthrown. pothinus was more active, though not less cautious in his hostility to them. he opened secret communication with achillas, sending him information, from time to time, of what took place within the walls, and of the arrangements made there for the defense of the city against him, and gave him also directions how to proceed. he was very wary and sagacious in all these movements, feigning all the time to be on caesar's side. he pretended to be very zealously employed in aiding caesar to secure more effectually the various points where attacks were to be expected, and in maturing and completing the arrangements for defense. but, notwithstanding all his cunning, he was detected in his double dealing, and his career was suddenly brought to a close, before the great final conflict came on. there was a barber in caesar's household, who, for some cause or other, began to suspect pothinus; and, having little else to do, he employed himself in watching the eunuch's movements and reporting them to caesar. caesar directed the barber to continue his observations. he did so; his suspicions were soon confirmed, and at length a letter, which pothinus had written to achillas, was intercepted and brought to caesar. this furnished the necessary proof of what they called his guilt, and caesar ordered him to be beheaded. this circumstance produced, of course, a great excitement within the palace, for pothinus had been for many years the great ruling minister of state,--the king, in fact, in all but in name. his execution alarmed a great many others, who, though in caesar's power, were secretly wishing that achillas might prevail. among those most disturbed by these fears was a man named ganymede. he was the officer who had charge of arsinoe, cleopatra's sister. the arrangement which caesar had proposed for establishing her in conjunction with her brother ptolemy over the island of cyprus had not gone into effect; for, immediately after the decision of caesar, the attention of all concerned had been wholly engrossed by the tidings of the advance of the army, and by the busy preparations which were required on all hands for the impending contest. arsinoe, therefore, with her governor ganymede, remained in the palace. ganymede had joined pothinus in his plots; and when pothinus was beheaded, he concluded that it would be safest for him to fly. he accordingly resolved to make his escape from the city, taking arsinoe with him. it was a very hazardous attempt but he succeeded in accomplishing it. arsinoe was very willing to go, for she was now beginning to be old enough to feel the impulse of that insatiable and reckless ambition which seemed to form such an essential element in the character of every son and daughter in the whole ptolemaic line. she was insignificant and powerless where she was, but at the head of the army she might become immediately a queen. it resulted, in the first instance, as she had anticipated. achillas and his army received her with acclamations. under ganymede's influence they decided that, as all the other members of the royal family were in durance, being held captive by a foreign general, who had by chance obtained possession of the capital, and were thus incapacitated for exercising the royal power, the crown devolved upon arsinoe; and they accordingly proclaimed her queen. every thing was now prepared for a desperate and determined contest for the crown between cleopatra, with caesar for her minister and general, on the one side, and arsinoe, with ganymede and achillas for her chief officers, on the other. the young ptolemy, in the mean time, remained caesar's prisoner, confused with the intricacies in which the quarrel had become involved, and scarcely knowing now what to wish in respect to the issue of the contest. it was very difficult to foresee whether it would be best for him that cleopatra or that arsinoe should succeed. chapter vii. the alexandrine war. the alexandrine war.--forces of caesar.--the egyptian army.--fugitive slaves.--dangerous situation of caesar.--presence of caesar.--influence of cleopatra.--first measures of caesar.--caesar's stores.--military engines.--the mole.--view of alexandria.--necessity of taking possession of the mole.--egyptian fleet.--caesar burns the shipping.--the fort taken.--burning of alexandria.--achillas beheaded.--plans of ganymede.--his vigorous measures.--messengers of ganymede.--their instructions.--ganymede cuts off caesar's supply of water.--panic of the soldiers.--caesar's wells.--arrival of the transports.--the transports in distress.--lowness of the coast.--a combat.--caesar successful. --ganymede equips a fleet.--a naval conflict.--caesar in danger. --another victory.--the egyptians discouraged.--secret messengers. --dissimulation of ptolemy--arrival of mithradates.--defeat of ptolemy. --terror and confusion.--death of ptolemy.--cleopatra queen.--general disapprobation of caesar's course.--cleopatra's son caesarion.--public opinion of her conduct.--caesar departs for rome.--he takes arsinoe with him. the war which ensued as the result of the intrigues and maneuvers described in the last chapter is known in the history of rome and julius caesar as the alexandrine war. the events which occurred during the progress of it, and its termination at last in the triumph of caesar and cleopatra, will form the subject of this chapter. achillas had greatly the advantage over caesar at the outset of the contest, in respect to the strength of the forces under his command. caesar, in fact, had with him only a detachment of three or four thousand men, a small body of troops which he had hastily put on board a little squadron of rhodian galleys for pursuing pompey across the mediterranean. when he set sail from the european shores with this inconsiderable fleet, it is probable that he had no expectation even of landing in egypt at all, and much less of being involved in great military undertakings there. achillas, on the other hand, was at the head of a force of twenty thousand effective men. his troops were, it is true, of a somewhat miscellaneous character, but they were all veteran soldiers, inured to the climate of egypt, and skilled in all the modes of warfare which were suited to the character of the country. some of them were roman soldiers, men who had come with the army of mark antony from syria when ptolemy auletes, cleopatra's father, was reinstated on the throne, and had been left in egypt, in ptolemy's service, when antony returned to rome. some were native egyptians. there was also in the army of achillas a large number of fugitive slaves,--refugees who had made their escape from various points along the shores of the mediterranean, at different periods, and had been from time to time incorporated into the egyptian army. these fugitives were all men of the most determined and desperate character. achillas had also in his command a force of two thousand horse. such a body of cavalry made him, of course, perfect master of all the open country outside the city walls. at the head of these troops achillas gradually advanced to the very gates of alexandria, invested the city on every side, and shut caesar closely in. the danger of the situation in which caesar was placed was extreme; but he had been so accustomed to succeed in extricating himself from the most imminent perils, that neither he himself nor his army seem to have experienced any concern in respect to the result. caesar personally felt a special pride and pleasure in encountering the difficulties and dangers which now beset him, because cleopatra was with him to witness his demeanor, to admire his energy and courage, and to reward by her love the efforts and sacrifices which he was making in espousing her cause. she confided every thing to him, but she watched all the proceedings with the most eager interest, elated with hope in respect to the result, and proud of the champion who had thus volunteered to defend her. in a word, her heart was full of gratitude, admiration, and love. the immediate effect, too, of the emotions which she felt so strongly was greatly to heighten her natural charms. the native force and energy of her character were softened and subdued. her voice, which always possessed a certain inexpressible charm, was endued with new sweetness through the influence of affection. her countenance beamed with fresh animation and beauty, and the sprightliness and vivacity of her character, which became at later periods of her life boldness and eccentricity, now being softened and restrained within proper limits by the respectful regard with which she looked upon caesar, made her an enchanting companion. caesar was, in fact, entirely intoxicated with the fascinations which she unconsciously displayed. under other circumstances than these, a personal attachment so strong, formed by a military commander while engaged in active service, might have been expected to interfere in some degree with the discharge of his duties; but in this case, since it was for cleopatra's sake and in her behalf that the operations which caesar had undertaken were to be prosecuted, his love for her only stimulated the spirit and energy with which he engaged in them. the first measure to be adopted was, as caesar plainly perceived, to concentrate and strengthen his position in the city, so that he might be able to defend himself there against achillas until he should receive re-enforcements from abroad. for this purpose he selected a certain group of palaces and citadels which lay together near the head of the long pier or cause way which led to the pharos, and, withdrawing his troops from all other parts of the city, established them there. the quarter which he thus occupied contained the great city arsenals and public granaries. caesar brought together all the arms and munitions of war which he could find in other parts of the city, and also all the corn and other provisions which were contained either in the public depots or in private warehouses, and stored the whole within his lines. he then inclosed the whole quarter with strong defenses. the avenues leading to it were barricaded with walls of stone. houses in the vicinity, which might have afforded shelter to an enemy, were demolished and the materials used in constructing walls wherever they were needed, or in strengthening the barricades. prodigious military engines, made to throw heavy stones, and beams of wood, and other ponderous missiles, were set up within his lines, and openings were made in the walls and other defenses of the citadel, wherever necessary, to facilitate the action of these machines. there was a strong fortress situated at the head of the pier or mole leading to the island of pharos, which was without caesar's lines, and still in the hands of the egyptian authorities. the egyptians thus commanded the entrance to the mole. the island itself, also, with the fortress at the other end of the pier, was still in the possession of the egyptian authorities, who seemed disposed to hold it for achillas. the mole was very long, as the island was nearly a mile from the shore. there was quite a little town upon the island itself, besides the fortress or castle built there to defend the place. the garrison of this castle was strong, and the inhabitants of the town, too, constituted a somewhat formidable population, as they consisted of fishermen, sailors, wreckers, and such other desperate characters, as usually congregate about such a spot. cleopatra and caesar, from the windows of their palace within the city, looked out upon this island, with the tall light house rising in the center of it and the castle at its base, and upon the long and narrow isthmus connecting it with the main land, and concluded that it was very essential that they should get possession of the post, commanding, as it did, the entrance to the harbor. in the harbor, which was on the south side of the mole, and, consequently, on the side opposite to that from which achillas was advancing toward the city, there were lying a large number of egyptian vessels, some dismantled, and others manned and armed more or less effectively. these vessels had not yet come into achillas's hands, but it would be certain that he would take possession of them as soon as he should gain admittance to those parts of the city which caesar had abandoned. this it was extremely important to prevent; for, if achillas held this fleet, especially if he continued to command the island of pharos, he would be perfect master of all the approaches to the city on the side of the sea. he could then not only receive re-enforcements and supplies himself from that quarter, but he could also effectually cut off the roman army from all possibility of receiving any. it became, therefore, as caesar thought, imperiously necessary that he should protect himself from this danger. this he did by sending out an expedition to burn all the shipping in the harbor, and, at the same time, to take possession of a certain fort upon the island of pharos which commanded the entrance to the port. this undertaking was abundantly successful. the troops burned the shipping, took the fort, expelled the egyptian soldiers from it, and put a roman garrison into it instead, and then returned in safety within caesar's lines. cleopatra witnessed these exploits from her palace windows with feelings of the highest admiration for the energy and valor which her roman protectors displayed. the burning of the egyptian ships in this action, however fortunate for cleopatra and caesar, was attended with a catastrophe which has ever since been lamented by the whole civilized world. some of the burning ships were driven by the wind to the shore, where they set fire to the buildings which were contiguous to the water. the flames spread and produced an extensive conflagration, in the course of which the largest part of the great library was destroyed. this library was the only general collection of the ancient writings that ever had been made, and the loss of it was never repaired. the destruction of the egyptian fleet resulted also in the downfall and ruin of achillas. from the time of arsinoe's arrival in the camp there had been a constant rivalry and jealousy between himself and ganymede, the eunuch who had accompanied arsinoe in her flight. two parties had been formed in the army, some declaring for achillas and some for ganymede. arsinoe advocated ganymede's interests, and when, at length, the fleet was burned, she charged achillas with having been, by his neglect or incapacity, the cause of the loss. achillas was tried, condemned, and beheaded. from that time ganymede assumed the administration of arsinoe's government as her minister of state and the commander-in-chief of her armies. about the time that these occurrences took place, the egyptian army advanced into those parts of the city from which caesar had withdrawn, producing those terrible scenes of panic and confusion which always attend a sudden and violent change of military possession within the precincts of a city. ganymede brought up his troops on every side to the walls of caesar's citadels and intrenchments, and hemmed him closely in. he cut off all avenues of approach to caesar's lines by land, and commenced vigorous preparations for an assault. he constructed engines for battering down the walls. he opened shops and established forges in every part of the city for the manufacture of darts, spears, pikes, and all kinds of military machinery. he built towers supported upon huge wheels, with the design of filling them with armed men when finally ready to make his assault upon caesar's lines, and moving them up to the walls of the citadels and palaces, so as to give to his soldiers the advantage of a lofty elevation in making their attacks. he levied contributions on the rich citizens for the necessary funds, and provided himself with men by pressing all the artisans, laborers, and men capable of bearing arms into his service. he sent messengers back into the interior of the country, in every direction, summoning the people to arms, and calling for contributions of money and military stores. these messengers were instructed to urge upon the people that, unless caesar and his army were at once expelled from alexandria, there was imminent danger that the national independence of egypt would be forever destroyed. the romans, they were to say, had extended their conquests over almost all the rest of the world. they had sent one army into egypt before, under the command of mark antony, under the pretense of restoring ptolemy auletes to the throne. now another commander, with another force, had come, offering some other pretexts for interfering in their affairs. these roman encroachments, the messengers were to say, would end in the complete subjugation of egypt to a foreign power, unless the people of the country aroused themselves to meet the danger manfully, and to expel the intruders. as caesar had possession of the island of pharos and of the harbor, ganymede could not cut him off from receiving such re-enforcements of men and arms as he might make arrangements for obtaining beyond the sea; nor could he curtail his supply of food, as the granaries and magazines within caesar's quarter of the city contained almost inexhaustible stores of corn. there was one remaining point essential to the subsistence of an army besieged, and that was an abundant supply of water. the palaces and citadels which caesar occupied were supplied with water by means of numerous subterranean aqueducts, which conveyed the water from the nile to vast cisterns built under ground, whence it was raised by buckets and hydraulic engines for use. in reflecting upon this circumstance, ganymede conceived the design of secretly digging a canal, so as to turn the waters of the sea by means of it into these aqueducts. this plan he carried into effect. the consequence was, that the water in the cisterns was gradually changed. it became first brackish, then more and more salt and bitter, until, at length, it was wholly impossible to use it. for some time the army within could not understand these changes; and when, at length, they discovered the cause the soldiers were panic-stricken at the thought that they were now apparently wholly at the mercy of their enemies, since, without supplies of water, they must all immediately perish. they considered it hopeless to attempt any longer to hold out, and urged caesar to evacuate the city, embark on board his galleys, and proceed to sea. instead of doing this, however, caesar, ordering all other operations to be suspended, employed the whole laboring force of his command, under the direction of the captains of the several companies, in digging wells in every part of his quarter of the city. fresh water, he said, was almost invariably found, at a moderate depth, upon sea-coasts, even upon ground lying in very close proximity to the sea. the digging was successful. fresh water, in great abundance, was found. thus this danger was passed, and the men's fears effectually relieved. a short time after these transactions occurred, there came into the harbor one day, from along the shore west of the city, a small sloop, bringing the intelligence that a squadron of transports had arrived upon the coast to the westward of alexandria, and had anchored there, being unable to come up to the city on account of an easterly wind which prevailed at that season of the year. this squadron was one which had been sent across the mediterranean with arms, ammunition, and military stores for caesar, in answer to requisitions which he had made immediately after he had landed. the transports being thus windbound on the coast, and having nearly exhausted their supplies of water, were in distress; and they accordingly sent forward the sloop, which was probably propelled by oars, to make known their situation to caesar, and to ask for succor. caesar immediately went, himself, on board of one of his galleys, and ordering the remainder of his little fleet to follow him, he set sail out of the harbor, and then turned to the westward, with a view of proceeding along the coast to the place where the transports were lying. all this was done secretly. the land is so low in the vicinity of alexandria that boats or galleys are out of sight from it at a very short distance from the shore. in fact, travelers say that, in coming upon the coast, the illusion produced by the spherical form of the surface of the water and the low and level character of the coast is such that one seems actually to descend from the sea to the land. caesar might therefore have easily kept his expedition a secret, had it not been that, in order to be provided with a supply of water for the transports immediately on reaching them, he stopped at a solitary part of the coast, at some distance from alexandria, and sent a party a little way into the interior in search for water. this party were discovered by the country people, and were intercepted by a troop of horse and made prisoners. from these prisoners the egyptians learned that caesar himself was on the coast with a small squadron of galleys. the tidings spread in all directions. the people flocked together from every quarter. they hastily collected all the boats and vessels which could be obtained at the villages in that region and from the various branches of the nile. in the mean time, caesar had gone on to the anchorage ground of the squadron, and had taken the transports in tow to bring them to the city; for the galleys, being propelled by oars, were in a measure independent of the wind. on his return, he found quite a formidable naval armament assembled to dispute the passage. a severe conflict ensued, but caesar was victorious. the navy which the egyptians had so suddenly got together was as suddenly destroyed. some of the vessels were burned, others sunk, and others captured; and caesar returned in triumph to the port with his transports and stores. he was welcomed with the acclamations of his soldiers, and, still more warmly, by the joy and gratitude of cleopatra, who had been waiting during his absence in great anxiety and suspense to know the result of the expedition, aware as she was that her hero was exposing himself in it to the most imminent personal danger. the arrival of these re-enforcements greatly improved caesar's condition, and the circumstance of their coming forced upon the mind of ganymede a sense of the absolute necessity that he should gain possession of the harbor if he intended to keep caesar in check. he accordingly determined to take immediate measures for forming a naval force. he sent along the coast, and ordered every ship and galley that could be found in all the ports to be sent immediately to alexandria. he employed as many men as possible in and around the city in building more. he unroofed some of the most magnificent edifices to procure timber as a material for making benches and oars. when all was ready, he made a grand attack upon caesar in the port, and a terrible contest ensued for the possession of the harbor, the mole, the island, and the citadels and fortresses commanding the entrances from the sea. caesar well knew this contest would be a decisive one in respect to the final result of the war, and he accordingly went forth himself to take an active and personal part in the conflict. he felt doubtless, too, a strong emotion of pride and pleasure in exhibiting his prowess in the sight of cleopatra, who could watch the progress of the battle from the palace windows, full of excitement at the dangers which he incurred, and of admiration at the feats of strength and valor which he performed. during this battle the life of the great conqueror was several times in the most imminent danger. he wore a habit or mantle of the imperial purple, which made him a conspicuous mark for his enemies; and, of course, wherever he went, in that place was the hottest of the fight. once, in the midst of a scene of most dreadful confusion and din, he leaped from an overloaded boat into the water and swam for his life, holding his cloak between his teeth and drawing it through the water after him, that it might not fall into the hands of his enemies. he carried, at the same time, as he swam, certain valuable papers which he wished to save, holding them above his head with one hand, while he propelled himself through the water with the other. the result of this contest was another decisive victory for caesar. not only were the ships which the egyptians had collected defeated and destroyed, but the mole, with the fortresses at each extremity of it, and the island, with the light house and the town of pharos, all fell into caesar's hands. the egyptians now began to be discouraged. the army and the people, judging, as mankind always do, of the virtue of their military commanders solely by the criterion of success, began to be tired of the rule of ganymede and arsinoe. they sent secret messengers to caesar avowing their discontent, and saying that, if he would liberate ptolemy--who, it will be recollected, had been all this time held as a sort of prisoner of state in caesar's palaces--they thought that the people generally would receive him as their sovereign, and that then an arrangement might easily be made for an amicable adjustment of the whole controversy. caesar was strongly inclined to accede to this proposal. he accordingly called ptolemy into his presence and, taking him kindly by the hand, informed him of the wishes of the people of egypt, and gave him permission to go. ptolemy, however, begged not to be sent away. he professed the strongest attachment to caesar, and the utmost confidence in him, and he very much preferred, he said, to remain under his protection. caesar replied that, if those were his sentiments, the separation would not be a lasting one. "if we part as friends," he said, "we shall soon meet again." by these and similar assurances he endeavored to encourage the young prince, and then sent him away. ptolemy was received by the egyptians with great joy, and was immediately placed at the head of the government. instead, however, of endeavoring to promote a settlement of the quarrel with caesar, he seemed to enter into it now himself, personally, with the utmost ardor, and began at once to make the most extensive preparations both by sea and land for a vigorous prosecution of the war. what the result of these operations would have been can now not be known, for the general aspect of affairs was, soon after these transactions, totally changed by the occurrence of a new and very important event which suddenly intervened, and which turned the attention of all parties, both egyptians and romans, to the eastern quarter of the kingdom. the tidings arrived that a large army under the command of a general named mithradates, whom caesar had dispatched into asia for this purpose, had suddenly appeared at pelusium, had captured that city and were now ready to march to alexandria. the egyptian army immediately broke up its encampments in the neighborhood of alexandria, and marched to the eastward to meet these new invaders. caesar followed them with all the forces that he could safely take away from the city. he left the city in the night, and unobserved, and moved across the country with such celerity that he joined mithradates before the forces of ptolemy had arrived. after various marches and maneuvers, the armies met, and a great battle was fought. the egyptians were defeated. ptolemy's camp was taken. as the roman army burst in upon one side of it, the guards and attendants of ptolemy fled upon the other, clambering over the ramparts in the utmost terror and confusion. the foremost fell headlong into the ditch below, which was thus soon filled to the brim with the dead and the dying; while those who came behind pressed on over the bridge thus formed, trampling remorselessly, as they fled, on the bodies of their comrades, who lay writhing, struggling, and shrieking beneath their feet. those who escaped reached the river. they crowded together into a boat which lay at the bank and pushed off from the shore. the boat was overloaded, and it sank as soon as it left the land. the romans drew the bodies which floated to the shore upon the bank again, and they found among them one, which, by the royal cuirass which was upon it, the customary badge and armor of the egyptian kings, they knew to be the body of ptolemy. the victory which caesar obtained in this battle and the death of ptolemy ended the war. nothing now remained but for him to place himself at the head of the combined forces and march back to alexandria. the egyptian forces which had been left there made no resistance, and he entered the city in triumph. he took arsinoe prisoner. he decreed that cleopatra should reign as queen, and that she should marry her youngest brother, the other ptolemy,--a boy at this time about eleven years of age. a marriage with one so young was, of course, a mere form. cleopatra remained, as before, the companion of caesar. caesar had, in the mean time, incurred great censure at rome, and throughout the whole roman world, for having thus turned aside from his own proper duties as the roman consul, and the commander-in-chief of the armies of the empire, to embroil himself in the quarrels of a remote and secluded kingdom with which the interests of the roman commonwealth were so little connected. his friends and the authorities at rome were continually urging him to return. they were especially indignant at his protracted neglect of his own proper duties, from knowing that he was held in egypt by a guilty attachment to the queen,--thus not only violating his obligations to the state, but likewise inflicting upon his wife calpurnia, and his family at rome, an intolerable wrong. but caesar was so fascinated by cleopatra's charms, and by the mysterious and unaccountable influence which she exercised over him, that he paid no heed to any of these remonstrances. even after the war was ended he remained some months in egypt to enjoy his favorite's society. he would spend whole nights in her company, in feasting and revelry. he made a splendid royal progress with her through egypt after the war was over, attended by a numerous train of roman guards. he formed a plan for taking her to rome, and marrying her there; and he took measures for having the laws of the city altered so as to enable him to do so, though he was already married. all these things produced great discontent and disaffection among caesar's friends and throughout the roman army. the egyptians, too, strongly censured the conduct of cleopatra. a son was born to her about this time, whom the alexandrians named, from his father, caesarion. cleopatra was regarded in the new relation of mother, which she now sustained, not with interest and sympathy, but with feelings of reproach and condemnation. cleopatra was all this time growing more and more accomplished, and more and more beautiful; but her vivacity and spirit, which had been so charming while it was simple and childlike, now began to appear more forward and bold. it is the characteristic of pure and lawful love to soften and subdue the heart, and infuse a gentle and quiet spirit into all its action; while that which breaks over the barriers that god and nature have marked out for it, tends to make woman masculine and bold, to indurate all her sensibilities, and to destroy that gentleness and timidity of demeanor which have so great an influence in heightening her charms. cleopatra was beginning to experience these effects. she was indifferent to the opinions of her subjects, and was only anxious to maintain as long as possible her guilty ascendency over caesar. caesar, however, finally determined to set out on his return to the capital. leaving cleopatra, accordingly, a sufficient force to secure the continuance of her power, he embarked the remainder of his forces in his transports and galleys, and sailed away. he took the unhappy arsinoe with him, intending to exhibit her as a trophy of his egyptian victories on his arrival at rome. chapter viii. cleopatra a queen. the alexandrine war very short.--its extent.--revenues of egypt.--the city repaired.--the library rebuilt.--a new collection of manuscripts.-- luxury and splendor.--deterioration of cleopatra's character.--the young ptolemy.--cleopatra assassinates him.--career of caesar.--his rapid course of conquest.--cleopatra determines to go to rome.--feelings of the romans.--caesar's four triumphs.--nature of triumphal processions.--arsinoe.--sympathy of the roman people.--caesar overacts his part.--feasts and festivals.--riot and debauchery.--public combats.--the artificial lake.--combat upon it.--land combats.--the people shocked.--cleopatra's visit.--caesar's plans for making himself king.--conspiracy against caesar.--he is assassinated.--arsinoe released.--calpurnia mourns her husband's death.--calpurnia looks to mark antony as her protector. the war by which caesar reinstated cleopatra upon the throne was not one of very long duration. caesar arrived in egypt in pursuit of pompey about the first of august; the war was ended and cleopatra established in secure possession by the end of january; so that the conflict, violent as it was while it continued, was very brief, the peaceful and commercial pursuits of the alexandrians having been interrupted by it only for a few months. nor did either the war itself, or the derangements consequent upon it, extend very far into the interior of the country. the city of alexandria itself and the neighboring coasts were the chief scenes of the contest until mithradates arrived at pelusium. he, it is true, marched across the delta, and the final battle was fought in the interior of the country. it was, however, after all, but a very small portion of the egyptian territory that was directly affected by the war. the great mass of the people, occupying the rich and fertile tracts which bordered the various branches of the nile, and the long and verdant valley which extended so far into the heart of the continent, knew nothing of the conflict but by vague and distant rumors. the pursuits of the agricultural population went on, all the time, as steadily and prosperously as ever; so that when the conflict was ended, and cleopatra entered upon the quiet and peaceful possession of her power, she found that the resources of her empire were very little impaired. she availed herself, accordingly, of the revenues which poured in very abundantly upon her, to enter upon a career of the greatest luxury, magnificence, and splendor. the injuries which had been done to the palaces and other public edifices of alexandria by the fire, and by the military operations of the siege, were repaired. the bridges which had been broken down were rebuilt. the canals which had been obstructed were opened again. the sea-water was shut off from the palace cisterns; the rubbish of demolished houses was removed; the barricades were cleared from the streets; and the injuries which the palaces had suffered either from the violence of military engines or the rough occupation of the roman soldiery, were repaired. in a word, the city was speedily restored once more, so far as was possible, to its former order and beauty. the five hundred thousand manuscripts of the alexandrian library, which had been burned, could not, indeed, be restored; but, in all other respects, the city soon resumed in appearance all its former splendor. even in respect to the library, cleopatra made an effort to retrieve the loss. she repaired the ruined buildings, and afterward, in the course of her life, she brought together, it was said, in a manner hereafter to be described, one or two hundred thousand rolls of manuscripts, as the commencement of a new collection. the new library, however, never acquired the fame and distinction that had pertained to the old. the former sovereigns of egypt, cleopatra's ancestors, had generally, as has already been shown, devoted the immense revenues which they extorted from the agriculturalists of the valley of the nile to purposes of ambition. cleopatra seemed now disposed to expend them in luxury and pleasure. they, the ptolemies, had employed their resources in erecting vast structures, or founding magnificent institutions at alexandria, to add to the glory of the city, and to widen and extend their own fame. cleopatra, on the other hand, as was, perhaps, naturally to be expected of a young, beautiful, and impulsive woman suddenly raised to so conspicuous a position, and to the possession of such unbounded wealth and power, expended her royal revenues in plans of personal display, and in scenes of festivity, gayety, and enjoyment. she adorned her palaces, built magnificent barges for pleasure excursions on the nile, and expended enormous sums for dress, for equipages, and for sumptuous entertainments. in fact, so lavish were her expenditures for these and similar purposes during the early years of her reign, that she is considered as having carried the extravagance of sensual luxury, and personal display, and splendor, beyond the limits that had ever before or have ever since been attained. whatever of simplicity of character, and of gentleness and kindness of spirit she might have possessed in her earlier years, of course gradually disappeared under the influences of such a course of life as she now was leading. she was beautiful and fascinating still, but she began to grow selfish, heartless, and designing. her little brother,--he was but eleven years of age, it will be recollected, when caesar arranged the marriage between them,--was an object of jealousy to her. he was now, of course, too young to take any actual share in the exercise of the royal power, or to interfere at all in his sister's plans or pleasures. but then he was growing older. in a few years he would be fifteen,--which was the period of life fixed upon by caesar's arrangements, and, in fact, by the laws and usages of the egyptian kingdom,--when he was to come into possession of power as king, and as the husband of cleopatra. cleopatra was extremely unwilling that the change in her relations to him and to the government, which this period was to bring, should take place. accordingly, just before the time arrived, she caused him to be poisoned. his death released her, as she had intended, from all restraints, and thereafter she continued to reign alone. during the remainder of her life, so far as the enjoyment of wealth and power, and of all other elements of external prosperity could go, cleopatra's career was one of uninterrupted success. she had no conscientious scruples to interfere with the most full and unrestrained indulgence of every propensity of her heart, and the means of indulgence were before her in the most unlimited profusion. the only bar to her happiness was the impossibility of satisfying the impulses and passions of the human soul, when they once break over the bounds which the laws both of god and of nature ordain for restraining them. in the mean time, while cleopatra was spending the early years of her reign in all this luxury and splendor, caesar was pursuing his career, as the conqueror of the world, in the most successful manner. on the death of pompey, he would naturally have succeeded at once to the enjoyment of the supreme power; but his delay in egypt, and the extent to which it was known that he was entangled with cleopatra, encouraged and strengthened his enemies in various parts of the world. in fact, a revolt which broke out in asia minor, and which it was absolutely necessary that he should proceed at once to quell, was the immediate cause of his leaving egypt at last. other plans for making head against caesar's power were formed in spain, in africa, and in italy. his military skill and energy, however, were so great, and the ascendency which he exercised over the minds of men by his personal presence was so unbounded, and so astonishing, moreover, was the celerity with which he moved from continent to continent, and from kingdom to kingdom, that in a very short period from the time of his leaving egypt, he had conducted most brilliant and successful campaigns in all the three quarters of the world then known, had put down effectually all opposition to his power, and then had returned to rome the acknowledged master of the world. cleopatra, who had, of course, watched his career during all this time with great pride and pleasure, concluded, at last, to go to rome and make a visit to him there. the people of rome were, however, not prepared to receive her very cordially. it was an age in which vice of every kind was regarded with great indulgence, but the moral instincts of mankind were too strong to be wholly blinded to the true character of so conspicuous an example of wickedness as this. arsinoe was at rome, too, during this period of caesar's life. he had brought her there, it will be recollected, on his return from egypt, as a prisoner, and as a trophy of his victory. his design was, in fact, to reserve her as a captive to grace his _triumph_. a triumph, according to the usages of the ancient romans, was a grand celebration decreed by the senate to great military commanders of the highest rank, when they returned from distant campaigns in which they had made great conquests or gained extraordinary victories. caesar concentrated all his triumphs into one. they were celebrated on his return to rome for the last time, after having completed the conquest of the world. the processions of this triumph occupied four days. in fact, there were four triumphs, one on each day for the four days. the wars and conquests which these ovations were intended to celebrate were those of gaul, of egypt, of asia, and of africa; and the processions on the several days consisted of endless trains of prisoners, trophies, arms, banners, pictures, images, convoys of wagons loaded with plunder, captive princes and princesses, animals wild and tame, and every thing else which the conqueror had been able to bring home with him from his campaigns, to excite the curiosity or the admiration of the people of the city and illustrate the magnitude of his exploits. of course, the roman generals, when engaged in distant foreign wars, were ambitious of bringing back as many distinguished captives and as much public plunder as they were able to obtain, in order to add to the variety and splendor of the triumphal procession by which their victories were to be honored on their return. it was with this view that caesar brought arsinoe from egypt; and he had retained her as his captive at rome until his conquests were completed and the time for his triumph arrived. she, of course, formed a part of the triumphal train on the _egyptian_ day. she walked immediately before the chariot in which caesar rode. she was in chains, like any other captive, though her chains in honor of her lofty rank, were made of gold. the effect, however, upon the roman population of seeing the unhappy princess, overwhelmed as she was with sorrow and chagrin, as she moved slowly along in the train, among the other emblems and trophies of violence and plunder, proved to be by no means favorable to caesar. the population were inclined to pity her, and to sympathize with her in her sufferings. the sight of her distress recalled too, to their minds, the dereliction from duty which caesar had been guilty of in his yielding to the enticements of cleopatra, and remaining so long in egypt to the neglect of his proper duties as a roman minister of state. in a word, the tide of admiration for caesar's military exploits which had been setting so strongly in his favor, seemed inclined to turn, and the city was filled with murmurs against him even in the midst of his triumphs. in fact, the pride and vainglory which led caesar to make his triumphs more splendid and imposing than any former conqueror had ever enjoyed, caused him to overact his part so as to produce effects the reverse of his intentions. the case of arsinoe was one example of this. instead of impressing the people with a sense of the greatness of his exploits in egypt, in deposing one queen and bringing her captive to rome, in order that he might place another upon the throne in her stead, it only reproduced anew the censures and criminations which he had deserved by his actions there, but which, had it not been for the pitiable spectacle of arsinoe in the train, might have been forgotten. there were other examples of a similar character. there were the feasts, for instance. from the plunder which caesar had obtained in his various campaigns, he expended the most enormous sums in making feasts and spectacles for the populace at the time of his triumph. a large portion of the populace was pleased, it is true, with the boundless indulgences thus offered to them; but the better part of the roman people were indignant at the waste and extravagance which were every where displayed. for many days the whole city of rome presented to the view nothing but one wide-spread scene of riot and debauchery. the people, instead of being pleased with this abundance, said that caesar must have practiced the most extreme and lawless extortion to have obtained the vast amount of money necessary to enable him to supply such unbounded and reckless waste. there was another way, too, by which caesar turned public opinion strongly against himself, by the very means which he adopted for creating a sentiment in his favor. the romans, among the other barbarous amusements which were practiced in the city, were specially fond of combats. these combats were of various kinds. they were fought sometimes between ferocious beasts of the same or of different species, as dogs against each other, or against bulls, lions, or tigers. any animals, in fact, were employed for this purpose, that could be teased or goaded into anger and ferocity in a fight. sometimes men were employed in these combats,--captive soldiers, that had been taken in war, and brought to rome to fight in the amphitheaters there as gladiators. these men were compelled to contend sometimes with wild beasts, and sometimes with one another. caesar, knowing how highly the roman assemblies enjoyed such scenes, determined to afford them the indulgence on a most magnificent scale, supposing, of course, that the greater and the more dreadful the fight, the higher would be the pleasure which the spectators would enjoy in witnessing it. accordingly, in making preparations for the festivities attending his triumph, he caused a large artificial lake to be formed at a convenient place in the vicinity of rome, where it could be surrounded by the populace of the city, and there he made arrangements for a naval battle. a great number of galleys were introduced into the lake. they were of the usual size employed in war. these galleys were manned with numerous soldiers. tyrian captives were put upon one side, and egyptian upon the other; and when all was ready, the two squadrons were ordered to approach and fight a real battle for the amusement of the enormous throngs of spectators that were assembled around. as the nations from which the combatants in this conflict were respectively taken were hostile to each other, and as the men fought, of course, for their lives, the engagement was attended with the usual horrors of a desperate naval encounter. hundreds were slain. the dead bodies of the combatants fell from the galleys into the lake and the waters of it were dyed with their blood. there were land combats, too, on the same grand scale. in one of them five hundred foot soldiers, twenty elephants, and a troop of thirty horse were engaged on each side. this combat, therefore, was an action greater, in respect to the number of the combatants, than the famous battle of lexington, which marked the commencement of the american war; and in respect to the slaughter which took place, it was very probably ten times greater. the horror of these scenes proved to be too much even for the populace, fierce and merciless as it was, which they were intended to amuse. caesar, in his eagerness to outdo all former exhibitions and shows, went beyond the limits within which the seeing of men butchered in bloody combats and dying in agony and despair would serve for a pleasure and a pastime. the people were shocked; and condemnations of caesar's cruelty were added to the other suppressed reproaches and criminations which every where arose. cleopatra, during her visit to rome, lived openly with caesar at his residence, and this excited very general displeasure. in fact, while the people pitied arsinoe, cleopatra, notwithstanding her beauty and her thousand personal accomplishments and charms, was an object of general displeasure, so far as public attention was turned toward her at all. the public mind was, however, much engrossed by the great political movements made by caesar and the ends toward which he seemed to be aiming. men accused him of designing to be made a king. parties were formed for and against him; and though men did not dare openly to utter their sentiments, their passions became the more violent in proportion to the external force by which they were suppressed. mark antony was at rome at this time. he warmly espoused caesar's cause, and encouraged his design of making himself king. he once, in fact, offered to place a royal diadem upon caesar's head at some public celebration; but the marks of public disapprobation which the act elicited caused him to desist. at length, however, the time arrived when caesar determined to cause himself to be proclaimed king. he took advantage of a certain remarkable conjuncture of public affairs, which can not here be particularly described, but which seemed to him specially to favor his designs, and arrangements were made for having him invested with the regal power by the senate. the murmurs and the discontent of the people at the indications that the time for the realization of their fears was drawing nigh, became more and more audible, and at length a conspiracy was formed to put an end to the danger by destroying the ambitious aspirant's life. two stern and determined men, brutus and cassius, were the leaders of this conspiracy. they matured their plans, organized their band of associates, provided themselves secretly with arms, and when the senate convened, on the day in which the decisive vote was to have been passed, caesar himself presiding, they came up boldly around him in his presidential chair, and murdered him with their daggers. antony, from whom the plans of the conspirators had been kept profoundly secret, stood by, looking on stupefied and confounded while the deed was done, but utterly unable to render his friend any protection. cleopatra immediately fled from the city and returned to egypt. arsinoe had gone away before. caesar, either taking pity on her misfortunes, or impelled, perhaps, by the force of public sentiment, which seemed inclined to take part with her against him, set her at liberty immediately after the ceremonies of his triumph were over. he would not, however, allow her to return into egypt, for fear, probably, that she might in some way or other be the means of disturbing the government of cleopatra. she proceeded, accordingly, into syria, no longer as a captive, but still as an exile from her native land. we shall hereafter learn what became of her there. calpurnia mourned the death of her husband with sincere and unaffected grief. she bore the wrongs which she suffered as a wife with a very patient and unrepining spirit, and loved her husband with the most devoted attachment to the end. nothing can be more affecting than the proofs of her tender and anxious regard on the night immediately preceding the assassination. there were certain slight and obscure indications of danger which her watchful devotion to her husband led her to observe, though they eluded the notice of all caesar's other friends, and they filled her with apprehension and anxiety; and when at length the bloody body was brought home to her from the senate-house, she was overwhelmed with grief and despair. she had no children. she accordingly looked upon mark antony as her nearest friend and protector, and in the confusion and terror which prevailed the next day in the city, she hastily packed together the money and other valuables contained in the house, and all her husband's books and papers, and sent them to antony for safe keeping. chapter ix. the battle of philippi. consternation at rome.--caesar's will.--brutus and cassius.--parties formed.--octavius and lepidus.--character of octavius.--octavius proceeds to rome.--he claims his rights as heir.--lepidus takes command of the army.--the triumvirate.--conference between octavius, lepidus, and antony.--embassage to cleopatra.--her decision.--cassius abandons his designs.--approach of the triumvirs.--the armies meet at philippi. --sickness of octavius.--difference of opinion between brutus and cassius.--council of war.--decision of the council.--brutus greatly elated.--despondency of cassius.--preparations for battle.--resolution of brutus to die.--similar resolve of cassius.--omens.--their influence upon cassius.--the swarms of bees.--warnings received by brutus.--the spirit seen by brutus.--his conversation with it.--battle of philippi.--defeat of octavius.--defeat of cassius.--brutus goes to his aid--death of cassius.--grief of brutus.--defeat of brutus.--his retreat.--situation of brutus in the glen.--the helmet of water.--brutus surrounded.--proposal of statilius.--anxiety and suspense.--resolution of brutus.--brutus's farewell to his friends.--the last duty.--death of brutus.--situation of antony. when the tidings of the assassination of caesar were first announced to the people of rome, all ranks and classes of men were struck with amazement and consternation. no one knew what to say or do. a very large and influential portion of the community had been caesar's friends. it was equally certain that there was a very powerful interest opposed to him. no one could foresee which of these two parties would now carry the day, and, of course, for a time, all was uncertainty and indecision. mark antony came forward at once, and assumed the position of caesar's representative and the leader of the party on that side. a will was found among caesar's effects, and when the will was opened it appeared that large sums of money were left to the roman people, and other large amounts to a nephew of the deceased, named octavius, who will be more particularly spoken of hereafter. antony was named in the will as the executor of it. this and other circumstances seemed to authorize him to come forward as the head and the leader of the caesar party. brutus and cassius, who remained openly in the city after their desperate deed had been performed, were the acknowledged leaders of the other party; while the mass of the people were at first so astounded at the magnitude and suddenness of the revolution which the open and public assassination of a roman emperor by a roman senate denoted, that they knew not what to say or do. in fact, the killing of julius caesar, considering the exalted position which he occupied, the rank and station of the men who perpetrated the deed, and the very extraordinary publicity of the scene in which the act was performed, was, doubtless, the most conspicuous and most appalling case of assassination that has ever occurred. the whole population of rome seemed for some days to be amazed and stupefied by the tidings. at length, however, parties began to be more distinctly formed. the lines of demarkation between them were gradually drawn, and men began to arrange themselves more and more unequivocally on the opposite sides. for a short time the supremacy of antony over the caesar party was readily acquiesced in and allowed. at length, however, and before his arrangements were finally matured, he found that he had two formidable competitors upon his own side. these were octavius and lepidus. octavius, who was the nephew of caesar, already alluded to, was a very accomplished and elegant young man, now about nineteen years of age. he was the son of julius caesar's niece.[ ] [footnote : this octavius on his subsequent elevation to imperial power, received the name of augustus caesar, and it is by this name that he is generally known in history. he was, however, called octavius at the commencement of his career, and, to avoid confusion, we shall continue to designate him by this name to the end of our narrative.] he had always been a great favorite with his uncle. every possible attention had been paid to his education, and he had been advanced by caesar, already, to positions of high importance in public life. caesar, in fact, adopted him as his son, and made him his heir. at the time of caesar's death he was at apollonia, a city of illyricum, north of greece. the troops under his command there offered to march at once with him, if he wished it, to rome, and avenge his uncle's death. octavius, after some hesitation, concluded that it would be most prudent for him to proceed thither first himself, alone, as a private person, and demand his rights as his uncle's heir, according to the provisions of the will. he accordingly did so. he found, on his arrival, that the will, the property, the books and parchments, and the substantial power of the government, were all in antony's hands. antony, instead of putting octavius into possession of his property and rights, found various pretexts for evasion and delay. octavius was too young yet, he said, to assume such weighty responsibilities. he was himself also too much pressed with the urgency of public affairs to attend to the business of the will. with these and similar excuses as his justification, antony seemed inclined to pay no regard whatever to octavius's claims. octavius, young as he was, possessed a character that was marked with great intelligence, spirit, and resolution. he soon made many powerful friends in the city of rome and among the roman senate. it became a serious question whether he or antony would gain the greatest ascendency in the party of caesar's friends. the contest for this ascendency was, in fact, protracted for two or three years, and led to a vast complication of intrigues, and maneuvers, and civil wars, which can not, however, be here particularly detailed. the other competitor which antony had to contend with was a distinguished roman general named lepidus. lepidus was an officer of the army, in very high command at the time of caesar's death. he was present in the senate-chamber on the day of the assassination. he stole secretly away when he saw that the deed was done, and repaired to the camp of the army without the city and immediately assumed the command of the forces. this gave him great power, and in the course of the contests which subsequently ensued between antony and octavius, he took an active part, and held in some measure the balance between them. at length the contest was finally closed by a coalition of the three rivals. finding that they could not either of them gain a decided victory over the others, they combined together, and formed the celebrated _triumvirate_, which continued afterward for some time to wield the supreme command in the roman world. in forming this league of reconciliation, the three rivals held their conference on an island situated in one of the branches of the po, in the north of italy. they manifested extreme jealousy and suspicion of each other in coming to this interview. two bridges were built leading to the island, one from each bank of the stream. the army of antony was drawn up upon one side of the river, and that of octavius upon the other. lepidus went first to the island by one of the bridges. after examining the ground carefully, to make himself sure that it contained no ambuscade, he made a signal to the other generals, who then came over, each advancing by his own bridge, and accompanied by three hundred guards, who remained upon the bridge to secure a retreat for their masters in case of treachery. the conference lasted three days, at the expiration of which time the articles were all agreed upon and signed. this league being formed, the three confederates turned their united force against the party of the conspirators. of this party brutus and cassius were still at the head. the scene of the contests between octavius, antony, and lepidus had been chiefly italy and the other central countries of europe. brutus and cassius, on the other hand, had gone across the adriatic sea into the east immediately after caesar's assassination. they were now in asia minor, and were employed in concentrating their forces, forming alliances with the various eastern powers, raising troops, bringing over to their side the roman legions which were stationed in that quarter of the world, seizing magazines, and exacting contributions from all who could be induced to favor their cause. among other embassages which they sent, one went to egypt to demand aid from cleopatra. cleopatra, however, was resolved to join the other side in the contest. it was natural that she should feel grateful to caesar for his efforts and sacrifices in her behalf, and that she should be inclined to favor the cause of his friends. accordingly, instead of sending troops to aid brutus and cassius, as they had desired her to do, she immediately fitted out an expedition to proceed to the coast of asia, with a view of rendering all the aid in her power to antony's cause. cassius, on his part, finding that cleopatra was determined on joining his enemies, immediately resolved on proceeding at once to egypt and taking possession of the country. he also stationed a military force at taenarus, the southern promontory of greece, to watch for and intercept the fleet of cleopatra as soon as it should appear on the european shores. all these plans, however--both those which cleopatra formed against cassius, and those which cassius formed against her--failed of accomplishment. cleopatra's fleet encountered a terrible storm, which dispersed and destroyed it. a small remnant was driven upon the coast of africa, but nothing could be saved which could be made available for the purpose intended. as for cassius's intended expedition to egypt, it was not carried into effect. the dangers which began now to threaten him from the direction of italy and rome were so imminent, that, at brutus's urgent request, he gave up the egyptian plan, and the two generals concentrated their forces to meet the armies of the triumvirate which were now rapidly advancing to attack them. they passed for this purpose across the hellespont from sestos to abydos, and entered thrace. after various marches and countermarches, and a long succession of those maneuvers by which two powerful armies, approaching a contest, endeavor each to gain some position of advantage against the other, the various bodies of troops belonging, respectively, to the two powers, came into the vicinity of each other near philippi. brutus and cassius arrived here first. there was a plain in the neighborhood of the city, with a rising ground in a certain portion of it. brutus took possession of this elevation, and intrenched himself there. cassius posted his forces about three miles distant, near the sea. there was a line of intrenchments between the two camps, which formed a chain of communication by which the positions of the two commanders were connected. the armies were thus very advantageously posted. they had the river strymon and a marsh on the left of the ground that they occupied, while the plain was before them, and the sea behind. here they awaited the arrival of their foes. antony, who was at this time at amphipolis, a city not far distant from philippi, learning that brutus and cassius had taken their positions in anticipation of an attack, advanced immediately and encamped upon the plain. octavius was detained by sickness at the city of dyrrachium, not very far distant. antony waited for him. it was ten days before he came. at length he arrived, though in coming he had to be borne upon a litter, being still too sick to travel in any other way. antony approached, and established his camp opposite to that of cassius, near the sea, while octavius took post opposite to brutus. the four armies then paused, contemplating the probable results of the engagement that was about to ensue. the forces on the two sides were nearly equal; but on the republican side, that is, on the part of brutus and cassius, there was great inconvenience and suffering for want of a sufficient supply of provisions and stores. there was some difference of opinion between brutus and cassius in respect to what it was best for them to do. brutus was inclined to give the enemy battle. cassius was reluctant to do so, since, under the circumstances in which they were placed, he considered it unwise to hazard, as they necessarily must do, the whole success of their cause to the chances of a single battle. a council of war was convened, and the various officers were asked to give their opinions. in this conference, one of the officers having recommended to postpone the conflict to the next winter, brutus asked him what advantage he hoped to attain by such delay. "if i gain nothing else," replied the officer, "i shall live so much the longer." this answer touched cassius's pride and military sense of honor. rather than concur in a counsel which was thus, on the part of one of its advocates at least, dictated by what he considered an inglorious love of life, he preferred to retract his opinion. it was agreed by the council that the army should maintain its ground and give the enemy battle. the officers then repaired to their respective camps. brutus was greatly pleased at this decision. to fight the battle had been his original desire, and as his counsels had prevailed, he was, of course, gratified with the prospect for the morrow. he arranged a sumptuous entertainment in his tent, and invited all the officers of his division of the army to sup with him. the party spent the night in convivial pleasures, and in mutual congratulations at the prospect of the victory which, as they believed, awaited them on the morrow. brutus entertained his guests with brilliant conversation all the evening, and inspired them with his own confident anticipations of success in the conflict which was to ensue. cassius, on the other hand, in his camp by the sea, was silent and desponding. he supped privately with a few intimate friends. on rising from the table, he took one of his officers aside, and, pressing his hand, said to him that he felt great misgivings in respect to the result of the contest. "it is against my judgment," said he, "that we thus hazard the liberty of rome on the event of one battle, fought under such circumstances as these. whatever is the result, i wish you to bear me witness hereafter that i was forced into this measure by circumstances that i could not control. i suppose, however, that i ought to take courage, notwithstanding the reasons that i have for these gloomy forebodings. let us, therefore, hope for the best; and come and sup with me again to-morrow night. to-morrow is my birth-day." the next morning, the scarlet mantle--the customary signal displayed in roman camps on the morning of a day of battle--was seen at the tops of the tents of the two commanding generals, waving there in the air like a banner. while the troops, in obedience to this signal, were preparing themselves for the conflict, the two generals went to meet each other at a point midway between their two encampments, for a final consultation and agreement in respect to the arrangements of the day. when this business was concluded, and they were about to separate, in order to proceed each to his own sphere of duty, cassius asked brutus what he intended to do in case the day should go against them. "we hope for the best," said he, "and pray that the gods may grant us the victory in this most momentous crisis. but we must remember that it is the greatest and the most momentous of human affairs that are always the most uncertain, and we can not foresee what is to-day to be the result of the battle. if it goes against us, what do you intend to do? do you intend to escape, or to die?" "when i was a young man," said brutus, in reply, "and looked at this subject only as a question of theory, i thought it wrong for a man ever to take his own life. however great the evils that threatened him, and however desperate his condition, i considered it his duty to live, and to wait patiently for better times. but now, placed in the position in which i am, i see the subject in a different light. if we do not gain the battle this day, i shall consider all hope and possibility of saving our country forever gone, and i shall not leave the field of battle alive." cassius, in his despondency, had made the same resolution for himself before, and he was rejoiced to hear brutus utter these sentiments. he grasped his colleague's hand with a countenance expressive of the greatest animation and pleasure, and bade him farewell, saying, "we will go out boldly to face the enemy. for we are certain either that we shall conquer them, or that we shall have nothing to fear from their victory over us." cassius's dejection, and the tendency of his mind to take a despairing view of the prospects of the cause in which he was engaged, were owing, in some measure, to certain unfavorable omens which he had observed. these omens, though really frivolous and wholly unworthy of attention, seem to have had great influence upon him, notwithstanding his general intelligence, and the remarkable strength and energy of his character. they were as follows: in offering certain sacrifices, he was to wear, according to the usage prescribed on such occasions, a garland of flowers, and it happened that the officer who brought the garland, by mistake or accident, presented it wrong side before. again, in some procession which was formed, and in which a certain image of gold, made in honor of him, was borne, the bearer of it stumbled and fell, and the image was thrown upon the ground. this was a very dark presage of impending calamity. then a great number of vultures and other birds of prey were seen for a number of days before the battle, hovering over the roman army; and several swarms of bees were found within the precincts of the camp. so alarming was this last indication, that the officers altered the line of the intrenchments so as to shut out the ill-omened spot from the camp. these and other such things had great influence upon the mind of cassius, in convincing him that some great disaster was impending over him. nor was brutus himself without warnings of this character, though they seem to have had less power to produce any serious impression upon his mind than in the case of cassius. the most extraordinary warning which brutus received, according to the story of his ancient historians, was by a supernatural apparition which he saw, some time before, while he was in asia minor. he was encamped near the city of sardis at that time. he was always accustomed to sleep very little, and would often, it was said, when all his officers had retired, and the camp was still, sit alone in his tent, sometimes reading, and sometimes revolving the anxious cares which were always pressing upon his mind. one night he was thus alone in his tent, with a small lamp burning before him, sitting lost in thought, when he suddenly heard a movement as of some one entering the tent. he looked up, and saw a strange, unearthly, and monstrous shape, which appeared to have just entered the door and was coming toward him. the spirit gazed upon him as it advanced, but it did not speak. brutus, who was not much accustomed to fear, boldly demanded of the apparition who and what it was, and what had brought it there. "i am your evil spirit," said the apparition. "i shall meet you at philippi." "then, it seems," said brutus, "that, at any rate, i shall see you again." the spirit made no reply to this, but immediately vanished. brutus arose, went to the door of his tent, summoned the sentinels, and awakened the soldiers that were sleeping near. the sentinels had seen nothing; and, after the most diligent search, no trace of the mysterious visitor could be found. the next morning brutus related to cassius the occurrence which he had witnessed. cassius, though very sensitive, it seems, to the influence of omens affecting himself, was quite philosophical in his views in respect to those of other men. he argued very rationally with brutus to convince him that the vision which he had seen was only a phantom of sleep, taking its form and character from the ideas and images which the situation in which brutus was then placed, and the fatigue and anxiety which he had endured, would naturally impress upon his mind. but to return to the battle. brutus fought against octavius; while cassius, two or three miles distant, encountered antony, that having been, as will be recollected, the disposition of the respective armies and their encampments upon the plain. brutus was triumphantly successful in his part of the field. his troops defeated the army of octavius, and got possession of his camp. the men forced their way into octavius's tent, and pierced the litter in which they supposed that the sick general was lying through and through with their spears. but the object of their desperate hostility was not there. he had been borne away by his guards a few minutes before, and no one knew what had become of him. the result of the battle was, however, unfortunately for those whose adventures we are now more particularly following, very different in cassius's part of the field. when brutus, after completing the conquest of his own immediate foes, returned to his elevated camp, he looked toward the camp of cassius, and was surprised to find that the tents had disappeared. some of the officers around perceived weapons glancing and glittering in the sun in the place where cassius's tents ought to appear. brutus now suspected the truth, which was, that cassius had been defeated, and his camp had fallen into the hands of the enemy. he immediately collected together as large a force as he could command, and marched to the relief of his colleague. he found him, at last, posted with a small body of guards and attendants upon the top of a small elevation to which he had fled for safety. cassius saw the troop of horsemen which brutus sent forward coming toward him, and supposed that it was a detachment from antony's army advancing to capture him. he, however, sent a messenger forward to meet them, and ascertain whether they were friends or foes. the messenger, whose name was titinius, rode down. the horsemen recognized titinius, and, riding up eagerly around him, they dismounted from their horses to congratulate him on his safety, and to press him with inquiries in respect to the result of the battle and the fate of his master. cassius, seeing all this, but not seeing it very distinctly, supposed that the troop of horsemen were enemies, and that they had surrounded titinius, and had cut him down or made him prisoner. he considered it certain, therefore, that all was now finally lost. accordingly, in execution of a plan which he had previously formed, he called a servant, named pindarus, whom he directed to follow him, and went into a tent which was near. when brutus and his horsemen came up, they entered the tent. they found no living person within; but the dead body of cassius was there, the head being totally dissevered from it. pindarus was never afterward to be found. brutus was overwhelmed with grief at the death of his colleague; he was also oppressed by it with a double burden of responsibility and care, since now the whole conduct of affairs devolved upon him alone. he found himself surrounded with difficulties which became more and more embarrassing every day. at length he was compelled to fight a second battle. the details of the contest itself we can not give, but the result of it was, that, notwithstanding the most unparalleled and desperate exertions made by brutus to keep his men to the work, and to maintain his ground, his troops were borne down and overwhelmed by the irresistible onsets of his enemies, and his cause was irretrievably and hopelessly ruined. when brutus found that all was lost, he allowed himself to be conducted off the field by a small body of guards, who, in their retreat, broke through the ranks of the enemy on a side where they saw that they should meet with the least resistance. they were, however, pursued by a squadron of horse, the horsemen being eager to make brutus a prisoner. in this emergency, one of brutus's friends, named lucilius, conceived the design of pretending to be brutus, and, as such, surrendering himself a prisoner. this plan he carried into effect. when the troop came up, he called out for quarter, said that he was brutus, and begged them to spare his life, and to take him to antony. the men did so, rejoiced at having, as they imagined, secured so invaluable a prize. in the mean time, the real brutus pressed on to make his escape. he crossed a brook which came in his way, and entered into a little dell, which promised to afford a hiding-place, since it was encumbered with precipitous rocks and shaded with trees. a few friends and officers accompanied brutus in his flight. night soon came on, and he lay down in a little recess under a shelving rock, exhausted with fatigue and suffering. then, raising his eyes to heaven, he imprecated, in lines quoted from a greek poet, the just judgment of god upon the foes who were at that hour triumphing in what he considered the ruin of his country. he then, in his anguish and despair, enumerated by name the several friends and companions whom he had seen fall that day in battle, mourning the loss of each with bitter grief. in the mean time, night was coming on, and the party, concealed thus in the wild dell, were destitute and unsheltered. hungry and thirsty, and spent with fatigue as they were, there seemed to be no prospect for them of either rest or refreshment. finally they sent one of their number to steal softly back to the rivulet which they had crossed in their retreat, to bring them some water. the soldier took his helmet to bring the water in for want of any other vessel. while brutus was drinking the water which they brought, a noise was heard in the opposite direction. two of the officers were sent to ascertain the cause. they came back soon, reporting that there was a party of the enemy in that quarter. they asked where the water was which had been brought. brutus told them that it had all been drunk, but that he would send immediately for more. the messenger went accordingly to the brook again, but he came back very soon, wounded and bleeding, and reported that the enemy was close upon them on that side too, and that he had narrowly escaped with his life. the apprehensions of brutus's party were greatly increased by these tidings; it was evident that all hope of being able to remain long concealed where they were must fast disappear. one of the officers, named statilius, then proposed to make the attempt to find his way out of the snare in which they had become involved. he would go, he said, as cautiously as possible, avoiding all parties of the enemy, and being favored by the darkness of the night, he hoped to find some way of retreat. if he succeeded, he would display a torch on a distant elevation which he designated, so that the party in the glen, on seeing the light, might be assured of his safety. he would then return and guide them all through the danger, by the way which he should have discovered. this plan was approved, and statilius accordingly departed. in due time the light was seen burning at the place which had been pointed out, and indicating that statilius had accomplished his undertaking. brutus and his party were greatly cheered by the new hope which this result awakened. they began to watch and listen for their messenger's return. they watched and waited long, but he did not come. on the way back he was intercepted and slain. when at length all hope that he would return was finally abandoned, some of the party, in the course of the despairing consultations which the unhappy fugitives held with one another, said that they _must not_ remain any longer where they were, but must make their escape from that spot at all hazards. "yes," said brutus, "we must indeed make our escape from our present situation, but we must do it with our hands, and not with our feet." he meant by this that the only means now left to them to evade their enemies was self-destruction. when his friends understood that this was his meaning, and that he was resolved to put this design into execution in his own case, they were overwhelmed with sorrow. brutus took them, one by one, by the hand and bade them farewell. he thanked them for their fidelity in adhering to his cause to the last, and said that it was a source of great comfort and satisfaction to him that all his friends had proved so faithful and true. "i do not complain of my hard fate," he added, "so far as i myself am concerned. i mourn only for my unhappy country. as to myself, i think that my condition even now is better than that of my enemies; for though i die, posterity will do me justice, and i shall enjoy forever the honor which virtue and integrity deserve; while they, though they live, live only to reap the bitter fruits of injustice and of tyranny. "after i am gone," he continued, addressing his friends, as before, "think no longer of me, but take care of yourselves. antony, i am sure, will be satisfied with cassius's death and mine. he will not be disposed to pursue you vindictively any longer. make peace with him on the best terms that you can." brutus then asked first one and then another of his friends to aid him in the last duty, as he seems to have considered it, of destroying his life; but one after another declared that they could not do any thing to assist him in carrying into effect so dreadful a determination. finally, he took with him an old and long-tried friend named strato, and went away a little, apart from the rest. here he solicited once more the favor which had been refused him before,--begging that strato would hold out his sword. strato still refused. brutus then called one of his slaves. upon this strato declared that he would do any thing rather than that brutus should die by the hand of a slave. he took the sword, and with his right hand held it extended in the air. with the left hand he covered his eyes, that he might not witness the horrible spectacle. brutus rushed upon the point of the weapon with such fatal force that he fell and immediately expired. thus ended the great and famous battle of philippi, celebrated in history as marking the termination of the great conflict between the friends and the enemies of caesar, which agitated the world so deeply after the conqueror's death. this battle established the ascendency of antony, and made him for a time the most conspicuous man, as cleopatra was the most conspicuous woman, in the world. chapter x. 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 arsinoe.--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 arsinoe to be slain. arsinoe 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,[ ] 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 : 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. chapter xi. the battle of actium. perplexity of antony.--his meeting with fulvia.--meeting of antony and fulvia.--reconciliation of antony and octavius.--octavia.--her marriage to antony.--octavia's influence over her husband and her brother.--octavia pleads for antony.--difficulties settled.--antony tired of his wife.--he goes to egypt.--antony again with cleopatra.--effect on his character.--the march to sidon.--suffering of the troops.--arrival of cleopatra.--she brings supplies for the army.--octavia intercedes for antony.--she brings him re-enforcements. --cleopatra's alarm.--her arts.--cleopatra's secret agents.--their representations to antony.--cleopatra's success.--antony's message to octavia.--devotion of octavia.--indignation against antony.--measures of antony.--accusations against him.--antony's preparations.--assistance of cleopatra.--canidius bribed.--his advice in regard to cleopatra.--the fleet at samos.--antony's infatuation.--riot and revelry.--antony and cleopatra at athens.--ostentation of cleopatra.--honors bestowed on her.--baseness of antony.--approach of octavius.--antony's will.--charges against him.--antony's neglect of his duties.--meeting of the fleets. --opinions of the council.--cleopatra's wishes.--battle of actium.--flight of cleopatra.--antony follows cleopatra.--he gains her galley.--antony pursued.--a severe conflict.--the avenger of a father.--antony's anguish--antony and cleopatra shun each other.--arrival at tsenarus.--antony and cleopatra fly together to egypt. cleopatra, in parting with antony as described in the last chapter, lost him for two or three years. during this time antony himself was involved in a great variety of difficulties and dangers, and passed through many eventful scenes, which, however, can not here be described in detail. his life, during this period, was full of vicissitude and excitement, and was spent probably in alternations of remorse for the past and anxiety for the future. on landing at tyre, he was at first extremely perplexed whether to go to asia minor or to rome. his presence was imperiously demanded in both places. the war which fulvia had fomented was caused, in part, by the rivalry of octavius, and the collision of his interests with those of her husband. antony was very angry with her for having managed his affairs in such a way as to bring about a war. after a time antony and fulvia met at athens. fulvia had retreated to that city, and was very seriously sick there, either from bodily disease, or from the influence of long-continued anxiety, vexation, and distress. they had a stormy meeting. neither party was disposed to exercise any mercy toward the other. antony left his wife rudely and roughly, after loading her with reproaches. a short time afterward, she sank down in sorrow to the grave. the death of fulvia was an event which proved to be of advantage to antony. it opened the way to a reconciliation between him and octavius. fulvia had been extremely active in opposing octavius's designs, and in organizing plans for resisting him. he felt, therefore, a special hostility against her, and, through her, against antony. now, however, that she was dead, the way seemed to be in some sense opened for a reconciliation. octavius had a sister, octavia, who had been the wife of a roman general named marcellus. she was a very beautiful and a very accomplished woman, and of a spirit very different from that of fulvia. she was gentle, affectionate, and kind, a lover of peace and harmony, and not at all disposed, like fulvia, to assert and maintain her influence over others by an overbearing and violent demeanor. octavia's husband died about this time, and, in the course of the movements and negotiations between antony and octavius, the plan was proposed of a marriage between antony and octavia, which, it was thought, would ratify and confirm the reconciliation. this proposal was finally agreed upon. antony was glad to find so easy a mode of settling his difficulties. the people of rome, too, and the authorities there, knowing that the peace of the world depended upon the terms on which these two men stood with regard to each other, were extremely desirous that this arrangement should be carried into effect. there was a law of the commonwealth forbidding the marriage of a widow within a specified period after the death of her husband. that period had not, in octavia's case, yet expired. there was, however, so strong a desire that no obstacle should be allowed to prevent this proposed union, or even to occasion delay, that the law was altered expressly for this case, and antony and octavia were married. the empire was divided between octavius and antony, octavius receiving the western portion as his share, while the eastern was assigned to antony. it is not probable that antony felt any very strong affection for his new wife, beautiful and gentle as she was. a man, in fact, who had led such a life as his had been, must have become by this time incapable of any strong and pure attachment. he, however, was pleased with the novelty of his acquisition, and seemed to forget for a time the loss of cleopatra. he remained with octavia a year. after that he went away on certain military enterprises which kept him some time from her. he returned again, and again he went away. all this time octavia's influence over him and over her brother was of the most salutary and excellent character. she soothed their animosities, quieted their suspicions and jealousies, and at one time, when they were on the brink of open war, she effected a reconciliation between them by the most courageous and energetic, and at the same time, gentle and unassuming efforts. at the time of this danger she was with her husband in greece; but she persuaded him to send her to her brother at rome, saying that she was confident that she could arrange a settlement of the difficulties impending. antony allowed her to go. she proceeded to rome, and procured an interview with her brother in the presence of his two principal officers of state. here she pleaded her husband's cause with tears in her eyes; she defended his conduct, explained what seemed to be against him, and entreated her brother not to take such a course as should cast her down from being the happiest of women to being the most miserable. "consider the circumstances of my case," said she. "the eyes of the world are upon me. of the two most powerful men in the world, i am the wife of one and the sister of another. if you allow rash counsels to go on and war to ensue, i am hopelessly ruined; for, whichever is conquered, my husband or my brother, my own happiness will be for ever gone." octavius sincerely loved his sister, and he was so far softened by her entreaties that he consented to appoint an interview with antony in order to see if their difficulties could be settled. this interview was accordingly held. the two generals came to a river, where, at the opposite banks, each embarked in a boat, and, being rowed out toward each other, they met in the middle of the stream. a conference ensued, at which all the questions at issue were, for a time at least, very happily arranged. antony, however, after a time, began to become tired of his wife, and to sigh for cleopatra once more. he left octavia at rome and proceeded to the eastward, under pretense of attending to the affairs of that portion of the empire; but, instead of doing this, he went to alexandria, and there renewed again his former intimacy with the egyptian queen. octavius was very indignant at this. his former hostility to antony, which had been in a measure appeased by the kind influence of octavia, now broke forth anew, and was heightened by the feeling of resentment naturally awakened by his sister's wrongs public sentiment in rome, too, was setting very strongly against antony. lampoons were written, against him to ridicule him and cleopatra, and the most decided censures were passed upon his conduct. octavia was universally beloved, and the sympathy which was every where felt for her increased and heightened very much the popular indignation which was felt against the man who could wrong so deeply such sweetness, and gentleness, and affectionate fidelity as hers. after remaining for some time in alexandria, and renewing his connection and intimacy with cleopatra, antony went away again, crossing the sea into asia, with the intention of prosecuting certain military undertakings there which imperiously demanded his attention. his plan was to return as soon as possible to egypt after the object of his expedition should be accomplished. he found, however, that he could not bear even a temporary absence from cleopatra. his mind dwelled so much upon her, and upon the pleasures which he had enjoyed with her in egypt, and he longed so much to see her again, that he was wholly unfit for the discharge of his duties in the camp. he became timid, inefficient, and remiss, and almost every thing that he undertook ended disastrously. the army, who understood perfectly well the reason of their commander's remissness and consequent ill fortune, were extremely indignant at his conduct, and the camp was filled with suppressed murmurs and complaints. antony, however, like other persons in his situation, was blind to all these indications of dissatisfaction; probably he would have disregarded them if he had observed them. at length, finding that he could bear his absence from his mistress no longer, he set out to march across the country, in the depth of the winter, to the sea-shore, to a point where he had sent for cleopatra to come to join him. the army endured incredible hardships and exposures in this march. when antony had once commenced the journey, he was so impatient to get forward that he compelled his troops to advance with a rapidity greater than their strength would bear. they were, besides, not provided with proper tents or with proper supplies of provisions. they were often obliged, therefore, after a long and fatiguing march during the day, to bivouac at night in the open air among the mountains, with scanty means of appeasing their hunger, and very little shelter from the cold rain, or from the storms of driving snow. eight thousand men died on this march, from cold, fatigue, and exposure; a greater sacrifice, perhaps, than had ever been made before to the mere ardor and impatience of a lover. when antony reached the shore, he advanced to a certain sea-port, near sidon, where cleopatra was to land. at the time of his arrival but a very small part of his army was left, and the few men that survived were in a miserably destitute condition. antony's eagerness to see cleopatra became more and more excited as the time drew nigh. she did not come so soon as he had expected, and during the delay he seemed to pine away under the influence of love and sorrow. he was silent, absent-minded, and sad. he had no thoughts for any thing but the coming of cleopatra, and felt no interest in any other plans. he watched for her incessantly, and would sometimes leave his place at the table, in the midst of the supper, and go down alone to the shore, where he would stand gazing out upon the sea, and saying mournfully to himself, "why does not she come?" the animosity and the ridicule which these things awakened against him, on the part of the army, were extreme; but he was so utterly infatuated that he disregarded all the manifestations of public sentiment around him, and continued to allow his mind to be wholly engrossed with the single idea of cleopatra's coming. she arrived at last. she brought a great supply of clothes and other necessaries for the use of antony's army, so that her coming not only gratified his love, but afforded him, also, a very essential relief, in respect to the military difficulties in which he was involved. after some time spent in the enjoyment of the pleasure which being thus reunited to cleopatra afforded him, antony began again to think of the affairs of his government, which every month more and more imperiously demanded his attention. he began to receive urgent calls from various quarters, rousing him to action. in the mean time, octavia--who had been all this while waiting in distress and anxiety at rome, hearing continually the most gloomy accounts of her husband's affairs, and the most humiliating tidings in respect to his infatuated devotion to cleopatra--resolved to make one more effort to save him. she interceded with her brother to allow her to raise troops and to collect supplies, and then proceed to the eastward to re-enforce him. octavius consented to this. he, in fact, assisted octavia in making her preparations. it is said, however, that he was influenced in this plan by his confident belief that this noble attempt of his sister to reclaim her husband would fail, and that, by the failure of it, antony would be put in the wrong, in the estimation of the roman people, more absolutely and hopelessly than ever, and that the way would thus be prepared for his complete and final destruction. octavia was rejoiced to obtain her brother's aid to her undertaking, whatever the motive might be which induced him to afford it. she accordingly levied a considerable body of troops, raised a large sum of money, provided clothes, and tents, and military stores for the army; and when all was ready, she left italy and put to sea, having previously dispatched a messenger to her husband to inform him that she was coming. cleopatra began now to be afraid that she was to lose antony again, and she at once began to resort to the usual artifices employed in such cases, in order to retain her power over him. she said nothing, but assumed the appearance of one pining under the influence of some secret suffering or sorrow. she contrived to be often surprised in tears. in such cases she would hastily brush her tears away, and assume a countenance of smiles and good humor, as if making every effort to be happy, though really oppressed with a heavy burden of anxiety and grief. when antony was near her she would seem overjoyed at his presence, and gaze upon him with an expression of the most devoted fondness. when absent from him, she spent her time alone, always silent and dejected, and often in tears; and she took care that the secret sorrows and sufferings that she endured should be duly made known to antony, and that he should understand that they were all occasioned by her love for him, and by the danger which she apprehended that he was about to leave her. the friends and secret agents of cleopatra, who reported these things to antony, made, moreover, direct representations to him, for the purpose of inclining his mind in her favor. they had, in fact, the astonishing audacity to argue that cleopatra's claims upon antony for a continuance of his love were paramount to those of octavia. she, that is, octavia, had been his wife, they said, only for a very short time. cleopatra had been most devotedly attached to him for many years. octavia was married to him, they alleged, not under the impulse of love, but from political considerations alone, to please her brother, and to ratify and confirm a political league made with him. cleopatra, on the other hand, had given herself up to him in the most absolute and unconditional manner, under the influence solely of a personal affection which she could not control. she had surrendered and sacrificed every thing to him. for him she had lost her good name, alienated the affections of her subjects, made herself the object of reproach and censure to all mankind, and now she had left her native land to come and join him in his adverse fortunes. considering how much she had done, and suffered, and sacrificed for his sake, it would be extreme and unjustifiable cruelty in him to forsake her now. she never would survive such an abandonment. her whole soul was so wrapped up in him, that she would pine away and die if he were now to forsake her. antony was distressed and agitated beyond measure by the entanglements in which he found that he was involved. his duty, his inclination perhaps, certainly his ambition, and every dictate of prudence and policy required that he should break away from these snares at once and go to meet octavia. but the spell that bound him was too mighty to be dissolved. he yielded to cleopatra's sorrows and tears. he dispatched a messenger to octavia, who had by this time reached athens, in greece, directing her not to come any farther. octavia, who seemed incapable of resentment or anger against her husband, sent back to ask what she should do with the troops, and money, and the military stores which she was bringing. antony directed her to leave them in greece. octavia did so, and mournfully returned to her home. as soon as she arrived at rome, octavius, her brother, whose indignation was now thoroughly aroused at the baseness of antony, sent to his sister to say that she must leave antony's house and come to him. a proper self-respect, he said, forbade her remaining any longer under the roof of such a man. octavia replied that she would not leave her husband's house. that house was her post of duty, whatever her husband might do, and there she would remain. she accordingly retired within the precincts of her old home, and devoted herself in patient and uncomplaining sorrow to the care of the family and the children. among these children was one young son of antony's, born during his marriage with her predecessor fulvia. in the mean time, while octavia was thus faithfully though mournfully fulfilling her duties as wife and mother, in her husband's house at rome, antony himself had gone with cleopatra to alexandria, and was abandoning himself once more to a life of guilty pleasure there. the greatness of mind which this beautiful and devoted wife thus displayed, attracted the admiration of all mankind. it produced, however, one other effect, which octavia must have greatly deprecated. it aroused a strong and universal feeling of indignation against the unworthy object toward whom this extraordinary magnanimity was displayed. in the mean time, antony gave himself up wholly to cleopatra's influence and control, and managed all the affairs of the roman empire in the east in the way best fitted to promote her aggrandizement and honor. he made alexandria his capital, celebrated triumphs there, arranged ostentatious expeditions into asia and syria with cleopatra and her train, gave her whole provinces as presents, and exalted her two sons, alexander and ptolemy, children born during the period of his first acquaintance with her, to positions of the highest rank and station, as his own acknowledged sons. the consequences of these and similar measures at rome were fatal to antony's character and standing. octavius reported every thing to the roman senate and people, and made antony's misgovernment and his various misdemeanors the ground of the heaviest accusations against him. antony, hearing of these things, sent his agents to rome and made accusations against octavius; but these counter accusations were of no avail. public sentiment was very strong and decided against him at the capital, and octavius began to prepare for war. antony perceived that he must prepare to defend himself. cleopatra entered into the plans which he formed for this purpose with great ardor. antony began to levy troops, and collect and equip galleys and ships of war, and to make requisitions of money and military stores from all the eastern provinces and kingdoms. cleopatra put all the resources of egypt at his disposal. she furnished him with immense sums of money, and with an inexhaustible supply of corn, which she procured for this purpose from her dominions in the valley of the nile. the various divisions of the immense armament which was thus provided for were ordered to rendezvous at ephesus, where antony and cleopatra were awaiting to receive them, having proceeded there when their arrangements in egypt were completed, and they were ready to commence the campaign. when all was ready for the expedition to set sail from ephesus, it was antony's judgment that it would be best for cleopatra to return to egypt, and leave him to go forth with the fleet to meet octavius alone. cleopatra was, however, determined not to go away. she did not dare to leave antony at all to himself, for fear that in some way or other a peace would be effected between himself and octavius, which would result in his returning to octavia and abandoning _her_. she accordingly contrived to persuade antony to retain her with him, by bribing his chief counselor to advise him to do so. his counselor's name was canidius. canidius, having received cleopatra's money, while yet he pretended to be wholly disinterested in his advice, represented to antony that it would not be reasonable to send cleopatra away, and deprive her of all participation in the glory of the war, when she was defraying so large a part of the expense of it. besides, a large portion of the army consisted of egyptian troops, who would feel discouraged and disheartened if cleopatra were to leave them, and would probably act far less efficiently in the conflict than they would do if animated by the presence of their queen. then, moreover, such a woman as cleopatra was not to be considered, as many women would be, an embarrassment and a source of care to a military expedition which she might join, but a very efficient counselor and aid to it. she was, he said, a very sagacious, energetic, and powerful queen, accustomed to the command of armies and to the management of affairs of state, and her aid in the conduct of the expedition might be expected to conduce very materially to its success. antony was easily won by such persuasions as these, and it was at length decided that cleopatra should accompany him. antony then ordered the fleet to move forward to the island of samos. here it was brought to anchor and remained for some time, waiting for the coming in of new re-enforcements, and for the completion of the other arrangements. antony, as if becoming more and more infatuated as he approached the brink of his ruin, spent his time while the expedition remained at samos, not in maturing his plans and perfecting his arrangements for the tremendous conflict which was approaching, but in festivities, games, revelings, and every species of riot and dissolute excess. this, however, is not surprising. men almost always, when in a situation analogous to his, fly to similar means of protecting themselves, in some small degree, from the pangs of remorse, and from the forebodings which stand ready to terrify and torment them at every instant in which these gloomy specters are not driven away by intoxication and revelry. at least antony found it so. accordingly, an immense company of players, tumblers, fools, jesters, and mountebanks were ordered to assemble at samos, and to devote themselves with all zeal to the amusement of antony's court. the island was one universal scene of riot and revelry. people were astonished at such celebrations and displays, wholly unsuitable, as they considered them, to the occasion. if such are the rejoicings, said they, which antony celebrates before going into the battle, what festivities will he contrive on his return, joyous enough to express his pleasure if he shall gain the victory? after a time, antony and cleopatra, with a magnificent train of attendants, left samos, and, passing across the aegean sea, landed in greece, and advanced to athens, while the fleet, proceeding westward from samos, passed around taenarus, the southern promontory of greece, and then moved northward along the western coast of the peninsula. cleopatra wished to go to athens for a special reason. it was there that octavia had stopped on her journey toward her husband with re-enforcements and aid; and while she was there, the people of athens, pitying her sad condition, and admiring the noble spirit of mind which she displayed in her misfortunes, had paid her great attention, and during her stay among them had bestowed upon her many honors. cleopatra now wished to go to the same place, and to triumph over her rival there, by making so great a display of her wealth and magnificence, and of her ascendency over the mind of antony, as should entirely transcend and outshine the more unassuming pretensions of octavia. she was not willing, it seems, to leave to the unhappy wife whom she had so cruelly wronged even the possession of a place in the hearts of the people of this foreign city, but must go and enviously strive to efface the impression which injured innocence had made, by an ostentatious exhibition of the triumphant prosperity of her own shameless wickedness. she succeeded well in her plans. the people of athens were amazed and bewildered at the immense magnificence that cleopatra exhibited before them. she distributed vast sums of money among the people. the city, in return, decreed to her the most exalted honors. they sent a solemn embassy to her to present her with these decrees. antony himself, in the character of a citizen of athens, was one of the embassadors. cleopatra received the deputation at her palace. the reception was attended with the most splendid and imposing ceremonies. one would have supposed that cleopatra's cruel and unnatural hostility to octavia might now have been satisfied; but it was not. antony, while he was at athens, and doubtless at cleopatra's instigation, sent a messenger to rome with a notice of divorcement to octavia, and with an order that she should leave his house. octavia obeyed. she went forth from her home, taking the children with her, and bitterly lamenting her cruel destiny. in the mean time, while all these events had been transpiring in the east, octavius had been making his preparations for the coming crisis, and was now advancing with a powerful fleet across the sea. he was armed with authority from the roman senate and people, for he had obtained from them a decree deposing antony from his power. the charges made against him all related to misdemeanors and offenses arising out of his connection with cleopatra. octavius contrived to get possession of a will which antony had written before leaving rome, and which he had placed there in what he supposed a very sacred place of deposit. the custodians who had it in charge replied to octavius, when he demanded it, that they would not give it to him, but if he wished to take it they would not hinder him. octavius then took the will, and read it to the roman senate. it provided, among other things, that at his death, if his death should happen at rome, his body should be sent to alexandria to be given to cleopatra; and it evinced in other ways a degree of subserviency and devotedness to the egyptian queen which was considered wholly unworthy of a roman chief magistrate. antony was accused, too, of having plundered cities and provinces, to make presents to cleopatra; of having sent a library of two hundred thousand volumes to her from pergamus, to replace the one which julius caesar had accidentally burned; of having raised her sons, ignoble as their birth was, to high places of trust and power in the roman government, and of having in many ways compromised the dignity of a roman officer by his unworthy conduct in reference to her. he used, for example, when presiding at a judicial tribunal, to receive love-letters sent him from cleopatra, and then at once turn off his attention from the proceedings going forward before him to read the letters.[ ] [footnote : these letters, in accordance with the scale of expense and extravagance on which cleopatra determined that every thing relating to herself and antony should be done, were engraved on tablets made of onyx, or crystal, or other hard and precious stones.] sometimes he did this when sitting in the chair of state, giving audience to embassadors and princes. cleopatra probably sent these letters in at such times under the influence of a wanton disposition to show her power. at one time, as octavius said in his arguments before the roman senate, antony was hearing a cause of the greatest importance, and during a time in the progress of the cause when one of the principal orators of the city was addressing him, cleopatra came passing by, when antony suddenly arose, and, leaving the court without any ceremony, ran out to follow her. these and a thousand similar tales exhibited antony in so odious a light, that his friends forsook his cause, and his enemies gained a complete triumph. the decree was passed against him, and octavius was authorized to carry it into effect; and accordingly, while antony, with his fleet and army, was moving westward from samos and the aegean sea, octavius was coming eastward and southward down the adriatic to meet him. in process of time, after various maneuvers and delays, the two armaments came into the vicinity of each other at a place called actium, which will be found upon the map on the western coast of epirus, north of greece. both of the commanders had powerful fleets at sea, and both had great armies upon the land. antony was strongest in land troops, but his fleet was inferior to that of octavius, and he was himself inclined to remain on the land and fight the principal battle there. but cleopatra would not consent to this. she urged him to give octavius battle at sea. the motive which induced her to do this has been supposed to be her wish to provide a more sure way of escape in case of an unfavorable issue to the conflict. she thought that in her galleys she could make sail at once across the sea to alexandria in case of defeat, whereas she knew not what would become of her if beaten at the head of an army on the land. the ablest counselors and chief officers in the army urged antony very strongly not to trust himself to the sea. to all their arguments and remonstrances, however, antony turned a deaf ear. cleopatra must be allowed to have her way. on the morning of the battle, when the ships were drawn up in array, cleopatra held the command of a division of fifty or sixty egyptian vessels, which were all completely manned, and well equipped with masts and sails. she took good care to have every thing in perfect order for flight, in case flight should prove to be necessary. with these ships she took a station in reserve, and for a time remained there a quiet witness of the battle. the ships of octavius advanced to the attack of those of antony, and the men fought from deck to deck with spears, boarding-pikes, flaming darts, and every other destructive missile which the military art had then devised. antony's ships had to contend against great disadvantages. they were not only outnumbered by those of octavius, but were far surpassed by them in the efficiency with which they were manned and armed. still, it was a very obstinate conflict. cleopatra, however, did not wait to see how it was to be finally decided. as antony's forces did not immediately gain the victory, she soon began to yield to her fears in respect to the result, and, finally, fell into a panic and resolved to fly. she ordered the oars to be manned and the sails to be hoisted, and then forcing her way through a portion of the fleet that was engaged in the contest, and throwing the vessels into confusion as she passed, she succeeded in getting to sea, and then pressed on, under full sail, down the coast to the southward. antony, as soon as he perceived that she was going, abandoning every other thought, and impelled by his insane devotedness to her, hastily called up a galley of five banks of oarsmen to pull with all their force after cleopatra's flying squadron. cleopatra, looking back from the deck of her vessel, saw this swift galley pressing on toward her. she raised a signal at the stern of the vessel which she was in, that antony might know for which of the fifty flying ships he was to steer. guided by the signal, antony came up to the vessel, and the sailors hoisted him up the side and helped him in. cleopatra had, however, disappeared. overcome with shame and confusion, she did not dare, it seems, to meet the look of the wretched victim of her arts whom she had now irretrievably ruined. antony did not seek her. he did not speak a word. he went forward to the prow of the ship, and, throwing himself down there alone, pressed his head between his hands, and seemed stunned and stupefied, and utterly overwhelmed with horror and despair. he was, however, soon aroused from his stupor by an alarm raised on board his galley that they were pursued. he rose from his seat, seized a spear, and, on ascending to the quarter-deck, saw that there were a number of small light boats, full of men and of arms, coming up behind them, and gaining rapidly upon his galley. antony, now free for a moment from his enchantress's sway, and acting under the impulse of his own indomitable boldness and decision, instead of urging the oarsmen to press forward more rapidly in order to make good their escape, ordered the helm to be put about, and thus, turning the galley around, he faced his pursuers, and drove his ship into the midst of them. a violent conflict ensued, the din and confusion of which was increased by the shocks and collisions between the boats and the galley. in the end, the boats were beaten off, all excepting one: that one kept still hovering near, and the commander of it, who stood upon the deck, poising his spear with an aim at antony, and seeking eagerly an opportunity to throw it, seemed by his attitude and the expression of his countenance to be animated by some peculiarly bitter feeling of hostility and hate. antony asked him who he was, that dared so fiercely to threaten _him_. the man replied by giving his name, and saying that he came to avenge the death of his father. it proved that he was the son of a man whom antony had at a previous time, on some account or other, caused to be beheaded. there followed an obstinate contest between antony and this fierce assailant, in the end of which the latter was beaten off. the boats then, having succeeded in making some prizes from antony's fleet, though they had failed in capturing antony himself, gave up the pursuit and returned. antony then went back to his place, sat down in the prow, buried his face in his hands, and sank into the same condition of hopeless distress and anguish as before. when husband and wife are overwhelmed with misfortune and suffering, each instinctively seeks a refuge in the sympathy and support of the other. it is, however, far otherwise with such connections as that of antony and cleopatra. conscience, which remains calm and quiet in prosperity and sunshine, rises up with sudden and unexpected violence as soon as the hour of calamity comes; and thus, instead of mutual comfort and help, each finds in the thoughts of the other only the means of adding the horrors of remorse to the anguish of disappointment and despair. so extreme was antony's distress, that for three days he and cleopatra neither saw nor spoke to each other. she was overwhelmed with confusion and chagrin, and he was in such a condition of mental excitement that she did not dare to approach him. in a word, reason seemed to have wholly lost its sway--his mind, in the alternations of his insanity, rising sometimes to fearful excitement, in paroxysms of uncontrollable rage, and then sinking again for a time into the stupor of despair. in the mean time, the ships were passing down as rapidly as possible on the western coast of greece. when they reached taenarus, the southern promontory of the peninsula, it was necessary to pause and consider what was to be done. cleopatra's women went to antony and attempted to quiet and calm him. they brought him food. they persuaded him to see cleopatra. a great number of merchant ships from the ports along the coast gathered around antony's little fleet and offered their services. his cause, they said, was by no means desperate. the army on the land had not been beaten. it was not even certain that his fleet had been conquered. they endeavored thus to revive the ruined commander's sinking courage, and to urge him to make a new effort to retrieve his fortunes. but all was in vain. antony was sunk in a hopeless despondency. cleopatra was determined on going to egypt, and he must go too. he distributed what treasure remained at his disposal among his immediate followers and friends, and gave them advice about the means of concealing themselves until they could make peace with octavius. then, giving up all as lost, he followed cleopatra across the sea to alexandria. chapter xii. the end of cleopatra. infatuation of antony.--his early character--powerful influence of cleopatra over antony,--indignation at antony's conduct.--plans of cleopatra.--antony becomes a misanthrope.--his hut on the island of pharos--antony's reconciliation with cleopatra.--scenes of revelry.--cleopatra makes a collection of poisons.--her experiments with them.--antony's suspicions.--cleopatra's stratagem.--the bite of the asp.--cleopatra's tomb.--progress of octavius.--proposal of antony.--octavius at pelusium.--cleopatra's treasures.--fears of octavius.--he arrives at alexandria.--the sally.--the unfaithful captain.--disaffection of antony's men.--desertion of the fleet.--false rumor of cleopatra's death.--antony's despair.--eros.--antony's attempt to kill himself.--antony taken to cleopatra.--she refuses to open the door.--antony taken in at the window.--cleopatra's grief.--death of antony.--cleopatra made prisoner.--treatment of cleopatra.--octavius takes possession of alexandria.--antony's funeral.--cleopatra's wretched condition.--cleopatra's wounds and bruises.--she resolves to starve herself.--threats of octavius.--their effect.--octavius visits cleopatra.--her wretched condition.--the false inventory.--cleopatra in a rage.--octavius deceived.--cleopatra's determination.--cleopatra visits antony's tomb.--her composure on her return.--cleopatra's supper.--the basket of figs.--cleopatra's letter to octavius.--she is found dead.--death of charmion.--amazement of the by-standers.--various conjectures as to the cause of cleopatra's death.--opinion of octavius.--his triumph. the case of mark antony affords one of the most extraordinary examples of the power of unlawful love to lead its deluded and infatuated victim into the very jaws of open and recognized destruction that history records. cases similar in character occur by thousands in common life; but antony's, though perhaps not more striking in itself than a great multitude of others have been, is the most conspicuous instance that has ever been held up to the observation of mankind. in early life, antony was remarkable, as we have already seen, for a certain savage ruggedness of character, and for a stern and indomitable recklessness of will, so great that it seemed impossible that any thing human should be able to tame him. he was under the control, too, of an ambition so lofty and aspiring that it appeared to know no bounds; and yet we find him taken possession of, in the very midst of his career, and in the height of his prosperity and success, by a woman, and so subdued by her arts and fascinations as to yield himself wholly to her guidance, and allow himself to be led about by her entirely at her will. she displaces whatever there might have been that was noble and generous in his heart, and substitutes therefor her own principles of malice and cruelty. she extinguishes all the fires of his ambition, originally so magnificent in its aims that the world seemed hardly large enough to afford it scope, and instead of this lofty passion, fills his soul with a love of the lowest, vilest, and most ignoble pleasures. she leads him to betray every public trust, to alienate from himself all the affections of his countrymen, to repel most cruelly the kindness and devotedness of a beautiful and faithful wife, and, finally to expel this wife and all of his own legitimate family from his house; and now, at last, she conducts him away in a most cowardly and ignoble flight from the field of his duty as a soldier--he knowing, all the time, that she is hurrying him to disgrace and destruction, and yet utterly without power to break from the control of his invisible chains. the indignation which antony's base abandonment of his fleet and army at the battle of actium excited, over all that part of the empire which had been under his command, was extreme. there was not the slightest possible excuse for such a flight. his army, in which his greatest strength lay, remained unharmed, and even his fleet was not defeated. the ships continued the combat until night, notwithstanding the betrayal of their cause by their commander. they were at length, however, subdued. the army, also, being discouraged, and losing all motive for resistance, yielded too. in a very short time the whole country went over to octavius's side. in the mean time, cleopatra and antony, on their first return to egypt, were completely beside themselves with terror. cleopatra formed a plan for having all the treasures that she could save, and a certain number of galleys sufficient for the transportation of these treasures and a small company of friends, carried across the isthmus of suez and launched upon the red sea, in order that she might escape in that direction, and find some remote hiding-place and safe retreat on the shores of arabia or india, beyond the reach of octavius's dreaded power. she actually commenced this undertaking, and sent one or two of her galleys across the isthmus; but the arabs seized them as soon as they reached their place of destination, and killed or captured the men that had them in charge, so that this desperate scheme was soon abandoned. she and antony then finally concluded to establish themselves at alexandria, and made preparation, as well as they could, for defending themselves against octavius there. antony, when the first effects of his panic subsided, began to grow mad with vexation and resentment against all mankind. he determined that he would have nothing to do with cleopatra or with any of her friends, but went off in a fit of sullen rage, and built a hermitage in a lonely place, on the island of pharos, where he lived for a time, cursing his folly and his wretched fate, and uttering the bitterest invectives against all who had been concerned in it. here tidings came continually in, informing him of the defection of one after another of his armies, of the fall of his provinces in greece and asia minor, and of the irresistible progress which octavius was now making toward universal dominion. the tidings of these disasters coming incessantly upon him kept him in a continual fever of resentment and rage. at last he became tired of his misanthropic solitude, a sort of reconciliation ensued between himself and cleopatra, and he went back again to the city. here he joined himself once more to cleopatra, and, collecting together what remained of their joint resources, they plunged again into a life of dissipation and vice, with the vain attempt to drown in mirth and wine the bitter regrets and the anxious forebodings which filled their souls. they joined with them a company of revelers as abandoned as themselves, and strove very hard to disguise and conceal their cares in their forced and unnatural gayety. they could not, however, accomplish this purpose. octavius was gradually advancing in his progress, and they knew very well that the time of his dreadful reckoning with them must soon come; nor was there any place on earth in which they could look with any hope of finding a refuge in it from his vindictive hostility. cleopatra, warned by dreadful presentiments of what would probably at last be her fate, amused herself in studying the nature of poisons--not theoretically, but practically--making experiments with them on wretched prisoners and captives whom she compelled to take them in order that she and antony might see the effects which they produced. she made a collection of all the poisons which she could procure, and administered portions of them all, that she might see which were sudden and which were slow in their effects, and also learn which produced the greatest distress and suffering, and which, on the other hand, only benumbed and stupefied the faculties, and thus extinguished life with the least infliction of pain. these experiments were not confined to such vegetable and mineral poisons as could be mingled with the food or administered in a potion. cleopatra took an equal interest in the effects of the bite of venomous serpents and reptiles. she procured specimens of all these animals, and tried them upon her prisoners, causing the men to be stung and bitten by them, and then watching the effects. these investigations were made, not directly with a view to any practical use, which she was to make of the knowledge thus acquired, but rather as an agreeable occupation, to divert her mind, and to amuse antony and her guests. the variety in the forms and expressions which the agony of her poisoned victims assumed,--their writhings, their cries, their convulsions, and the distortions of their features when struggling with death, furnished exactly the kind and degree of excitement which she needed to occupy and amuse her mind. [illustration: cleopatra testing the poisons upon the slaves] antony was not entirely at ease, however, during the progress of these terrible experiments. his foolish and childish fondness for cleopatra was mingled with jealousy, suspicion, and distrust; and he was so afraid that cleopatra might secretly poison him, that he would never take any food or wine without requiring that she should taste it before him. at length, one day, cleopatra caused the petals of some flowers to be poisoned, and then had the flowers woven into the chaplet which antony was to wear at supper. in the midst of the feast, she pulled off the leaves of the flowers from her own chaplet and put them playfully into her wine, and then proposed that antony should do the same with his chaplet, and that they should then drink the wine, tinctured, as it would be, with the color and the perfume of the flowers. antony entered very readily into this proposal, and when he was about to drink the wine, she arrested his hand, and told him that it was poisoned. "you see now," said she, "how vain it is for you to watch against me. if it were possible for me to live without you, how easy it would be for me to devise ways and means to kill you." then, to prove that her words were true, she ordered one of the servants to drink antony's wine. he did so, and died before their sight in dreadful agony. the experiments which cleopatra thus made on the nature and effects of poison were not, however, wholly without practical result. cleopatra learned from them, it is said, that the bite of the asp was the easiest and least painful mode of death. the effect of the venom of that animal appeared to her to be the lulling of the sensorium into a lethargy or stupor, which soon ended in death, without the intervention of pain. this knowledge she seems to have laid up in her mind for future use. the thoughts of cleopatra appear, in fact, to have been much disposed, at this time, to flow in gloomy channels, for she occupied herself a great deal in building for herself a sepulchral monument in a certain sacred portion of the city. this monument had, in fact, been commenced many years ago, in accordance with a custom prevailing among egyptian sovereigns, of expending a portion of their revenues during their life-time in building and decorating their own tombs. cleopatra now turned her mind with new interest to her own mausoleum. she finished it, provided it with the strongest possible bolts and bars, and, in a word, seemed to be preparing it in all respects for occupation. in the mean time, octavius, having made himself master of all the countries which had formerly been under antony's sway, now advanced, meeting none to oppose him, from asia minor into syria, and from syria toward egypt. antony and cleopatra made one attempt, while he was thus advancing toward alexandria, to avert the storm which was impending over them, by sending an embassage to ask for some terms of peace. antony proposed, in this embassage, to give up every thing to his conqueror on condition that he might be permitted to retire unmolested with cleopatra to athens, and allowed to spend the remainder of their days there in peace; and that the kingdom of egypt might descend to their children. octavius replied that he could not make any terms with antony, though he was willing to consent to any thing that was reasonable in behalf of cleopatra. the messenger who came back from octavius with this reply spent some time in private interviews with cleopatra. this aroused antony's jealousy and anger. he accordingly ordered the unfortunate messenger to be scourged and then sent back to octavius, all lacerated with wounds, with orders to say to octavius that if it displeased him to have one of his servants thus punished, he might revenge himself by scourging a servant of antony's who was then, as it happened, in octavius's power. the news at length suddenly arrived at alexandria that octavius had appeared before pelusium, and that the city had fallen into his hands. the next thing antony and cleopatra well knew would be, that they should see him at the gates of alexandria. neither antony nor cleopatra had any means of resisting his progress, and there was no place to which they could fly. nothing was to be done but to await, in consternation and terror, the sure and inevitable doom which was now so near. cleopatra gathered together all her treasures and sent them to her tomb. these treasures consisted of great and valuable stores of gold, silver, precious stones, garments of the highest cost, and weapons, and vessels of exquisite workmanship and great value, the hereditary possessions of the egyptian kings. she also sent to the mausoleum an immense quantity of flax, tow, torches, and other combustibles. these she stored in the lower apartments of the monument, with the desperate determination of burning herself and her treasures together rather than to fall into the hands of the romans. in the mean time, the army of octavius steadily continued its march across the desert from pelusium to alexandria. on the way, octavius learned, through the agents in communication with him from within the city what were the arrangements which cleopatra had made for the destruction of her treasure whenever the danger should become imminent of its falling into his hands. he was extremely unwilling that this treasure should be lost. besides its intrinsic value, it was an object of immense importance to him to get possession of it for the purpose of carrying it to rome as a trophy of his triumph. he accordingly sent secret messengers to cleopatra, endeavoring to separate her from antony, and to infuse her mind with the profession that he felt only friendship for her, and did not mean to do her any injury, being in pursuit of antony only. these negotiations were continued from day to day while octavius was advancing. at last the roman army reached alexandria, and invested it on every side. as soon as octavius was established in his camp under the walls of the city, antony planned a sally, and he executed it, in fact, with considerable energy and success. he issued suddenly from the gates, at the head of as strong a force as he could command, and attacked a body of octavius's horsemen. he succeeded in driving these horsemen away from their position, but he was soon driven back in his turn, and compelled to retreat to the city, fighting as he fled, to beat back his pursuers. he was extremely elated at the success of this skirmish. he came to cleopatra with a countenance full of animation and pleasure, took her in his arms and kissed her, all accoutered for battle as he was, and boasted greatly of the exploit which he had performed. he praised, too, in the highest terms, the valor of one of the officers who had gone out with him to the fight, and whom he had now brought to the palace to present to cleopatra. cleopatra rewarded the faithful captain's prowess with a magnificent suit of armor made of gold. notwithstanding this reward, however, the man deserted antony that very night, and went over to the enemy. almost all of antony's adherents were in the same state of mind. they would have gladly gone over to the camp of octavius, if they could have found an opportunity to do so. in fact, when the final battle was fought, the fate of it was decided by a grand defection in the fleet, which went over in a body to the side of octavius. antony was planning the operations of the day, and reconnoitering the movements of the enemy from an eminence which he occupied at the head of a body of foot soldiers--all the land forces that now remained to him--and looking off, from the eminence on which he stood, toward the harbor, he observed a movement among the galleys. they were going out to meet the ships of octavius, which were lying at anchor not very far from them. antony supposed that his vessels were going to attack those of the enemy, and he looked to see what exploits they would perform. they advanced toward octavius's ships, and when they met them, antony observed, to his utter amazement, that, instead of the furious combat that he had expected to see, the ships only exchanged friendly salutations, by the use of the customary naval signals; and then his ships, passing quietly round, took their positions in the lines of the other fleet. the two fleets had thus become merged and mingled into one. antony immediately decided that this was cleopatra's treason. she had made peace with octavius, he thought, and surrendered the fleet to him as one of the conditions of it. antony ran through the city, crying out that he was betrayed, and in a frensy of rage sought the palace. cleopatra fled to her tomb. she took in with her one or two attendants, and bolted and barred the doors, securing the fastenings with the heavy catches and springs that she had previously made ready. she then directed her women to call out through the door that she had killed herself within the tomb. the tidings of her death were borne to antony. it changed his anger to grief and despair. his mind, in fact, was now wholly lost to all balance and control, and it passed from the dominion of one stormy passion to another with the most capricious facility. he cried out with the most bitter expressions of sorrow, mourning, he said, not so much cleopatra's death, for he should soon follow and join her, as the fact that she had proved herself so superior to him in courage at last, in having thus anticipated him in the work of self-destruction. he was at this time in one of the chambers of the palace, whither he had fled in despair, and was standing by a fire, for the morning was cold. he had a favorite servant named eros, whom he greatly trusted, and whom he had made to take an oath long before, that whenever it should become necessary for him to die, eros should kill him. this eros he now called to him, and telling him that the time was come, ordered him to take the sword and strike the blow. eros took the sword while antony stood up before him. eros turned his head aside as if wishing that his eyes should not see the deed which his hands were about to perform. instead, however, of piercing his master with it, he plunged it into his own breast, fell down at antony's feet, and died. antony gazed a moment at the shocking spectacle, and then said, "i thank thee for this, noble eros. thou hast set me an example. i must do for myself what thou couldst not do for me." so saying, he took the sword from his servant's hands, plunged it into his body, and staggering to a little bed that was near, fell over upon it in a swoon. he had received a mortal wound. the pressure, however, which was produced by the position in which he lay upon the bed, stanched the wound a little, and stopped the flow of blood. antony came presently to himself again, and then began to beg and implore those around him to take the sword and put him out of his misery. but no one would do it. he lay for a time suffering great pain, and moaning incessantly, until, at length, an officer came into the apartment and told him that the story which he had heard of cleopatra's death was not true; that she was still alive, shut up in her monument, and that she desired to see him there. this intelligence was the source of new excitement and agitation. antony implored the by-standers to carry him to cleopatra, that he might see her once more before he died. they shrank from the attempt; but, after some hesitation and delay, they concluded to undertake to remove him. so, taking him in their arms, they bore him along, faint and dying, and marking their track with his blood, toward the tomb. cleopatra would not open the gates to let the party in. the city was all in uproar and confusion through the terror of the assault which octavius was making upon it, and she did not know what treachery might be intended. she therefore went up to a window above, and letting down ropes and chains, she directed those below to fasten the dying body to them, that she and the two women with her might draw it up. this was done. those who witnessed it said that it was a most piteous sight to behold,--cleopatra and her women above exhausting their strength in drawing the wounded and bleeding sufferer up the wall, while he, when he approached the window, feebly raised his arms to them, that they might lift him in. the women had hardly strength sufficient to draw the body up. at one time it seemed that the attempt would have to be abandoned; but cleopatra reached down from the window as far as she could to get hold of antony's arms, and thus, by dint of great effort, they succeeded at last in taking him in. they bore him to a couch which was in the upper room from which the window opened, and laid him down, while cleopatra wrung her hands and tore her hair, and uttered the most piercing lamentations and cries. she leaned over the dying antony, crying out incessantly with the most piteous exclamations of grief. she bathed his face, which was covered with blood, and vainly endeavored to stanch his wound. antony urged her to be calm, and not to mourn his fate. he asked for some wine. they brought it to him and he drank it. he then entreated cleopatra to save her life, if she possibly could do so, and to make some terms or other with octavius, so as to continue to live. very soon after this he expired. in the mean time, octavius had heard of the mortal wound which antony had given himself; for one of the by-standers had seized the sword the moment that the deed was done, and had hastened to carry it to octavius, and to announce to him the death of his enemy. octavius immediately desired to get cleopatra into his power. he sent a messenger, therefore, to the tomb, who attempted to open a parley there with her. cleopatra talked with the messenger through the keyholes or crevices, but could not be induced to open the door. the messenger reported these facts to octavius. octavius then sent another man with the messenger, and while one was engaging the attention of cleopatra and her women at the door below, the other obtained ladders, and succeeded in gaining admission into the window above. cleopatra was warned of the success of this stratagem by the shrieks of her women, who saw the officer coming down the stairs. she looked around, and observing at a glance that she was betrayed, and that the officer was coming to seize her, she drew a little dagger from her robe, and was about to plunge it into her breast, when the officer grasped her arm just in time to prevent the blow. he took the dagger from her, and then examined her clothes to see that there were no other secret weapons concealed there. the capture of the queen being reported to octavius, he appointed an officer to take her into close custody. this officer was charged to treat her with all possible courtesy, but to keep a close and constant watch over her, and particularly to guard against allowing her any possible means or opportunity for self-destruction. in the mean time, octavius took formal possession of the city, marching in at the head of his troops with the most imposing pomp and parade. a chair of state, magnificently decorated, was set up for him on a high elevation in a public square; and here he sat, with circles of guards around him, while the people of the city, assembled before him in the dress of suppliants, and kneeling upon the pavement, begged his forgiveness, and implored him to spare the city. these petitions the great conqueror graciously condescended to grant. many of the princes and generals who had served under antony came next to beg the body of their commander, that they might give it an honorable burial. these requests, however, octavius would not accede to, saying that he could not take the body away from cleopatra. he, however, gave cleopatra leave to make such arrangements for the obsequies as she thought fit, and allowed her to appropriate such sums of money from her treasures for this purpose as she desired. cleopatra accordingly made the necessary arrangements, and superintended the execution of them; not, however, with any degree of calmness and composure, but in a state, on the contrary, of extreme agitation and distress. in fact, she had been living now so long under the unlimited and unrestrained dominion of caprice and passion, that reason was pretty effectually dethroned, and all self-control was gone. she was now nearly forty years of age, and, though traces of her inexpressible beauty remained, her bloom was faded, and her countenance was wan with the effects of weeping, anxiety, and despair. she was, in a word, both in body and mind, only the wreck and ruin of what she once had been. when the burial ceremonies were performed, and she found that all was over--that antony was forever gone, and she herself hopelessly and irremediably ruined--she gave herself up to a perfect frensy of grief. she beat her breast, and scratched and tore her flesh so dreadfully, in the vain efforts which she made to kill herself, in the paroxysms of her despair, that she was soon covered with contusions and wounds, which, becoming inflamed and swelled, made her a shocking spectacle to see, and threw her into a fever. she then conceived the idea of pretending to be more sick than she was, and so refusing food and starving herself to death. she attempted to execute this design. she rejected every medical remedy that was offered her, and would not eat, and lived thus some days without food. octavius, to whom every thing relating to his captive was minutely reported by her attendants, suspected her design. he was very unwilling that she should die, having set his heart on exhibiting her to the roman people, on his return to the capital, in his triumphal procession. he accordingly sent her orders, requiring that she should submit to the treatment prescribed by the physician, and take her food, enforcing these his commands with a certain threat which he imagined might have some influence over her. and what threat does the reader imagine could possibly be devised to reach a mind so sunk, so desperate, so wretched as hers? every thing seemed already lost but life, and life was only an insupportable burden. what interests, then, had she still remaining upon which a threat could take hold? octavius, in looking for some avenue by which he could reach her, reflected that she was a mother. caesarion, the son of julius caesar, and alexander, cleopatra, and ptolemy, antony's children, were still alive. octavius imagined that in the secret recesses of her wrecked and ruined soul there might be some lingering principle of maternal affection remaining which he could goad into life and action. he accordingly sent word to her that, if she did not yield to the physician and take her food, he would kill every one of her children. the threat produced its effect. the crazed and frantic patient became calm. she received her food. she submitted to the physician. under his treatment her wounds began to heal, the fever was allayed, and at length she appeared to be gradually recovering. when octavius learned that cleopatra had become composed, and seemed to be in some sense convalescent, he resolved to pay her a visit. as he entered the room where she was confined, which seems to have been still the upper chamber of her tomb, he found her lying on a low and miserable bed, in a most wretched condition, and exhibiting such a spectacle of disease and wretchedness that he was shocked at beholding her. she appeared, in fact, almost wholly bereft of reason. when octavius came in, she suddenly leaped out of the bed, half naked as she was, and covered with bruises and wounds, and crawled miserably along to her conqueror's feet in the attitude of a suppliant. her hair was torn from her head, her limbs were swollen and disfigured, and great bandages appeared here and there, indicating that there were still worse injuries than these concealed. from the midst of all this squalidness and misery there still beamed from her sunken eyes a great portion of their former beauty, and her voice still possessed the same inexpressible charm that had characterized it so strongly in the days of her prime. octavius made her go back to her bed again and lie down. cleopatra then began to talk and excuse herself for what she had done, attributing all the blame of her conduct to antony. octavius, however, interrupted her, and defended antony from her criminations, saying to her that it was not his fault so much as hers. she then suddenly changed her tone, and acknowledging her sins, piteously implored mercy. she begged octavius to pardon and spare her, as if now she were afraid of death and dreaded it, instead of desiring it as a boon. in a word, her mind, the victim and the prey alternately of the most dissimilar and inconsistent passions, was now overcome by fear. to propitiate octavius, she brought out a list of all her private treasures, and delivered it to him as a complete inventory of all that she had. one of her treasurers, however, named zeleucus, who was standing by, said to octavius that that list was not complete. cleopatra had, he alleged, reserved several things of great value, which she had not put down upon it. this assertion, thus suddenly exposing her duplicity, threw cleopatra into a violent rage. she sprang from her bed and assaulted her secretary in a most furious manner. octavius and the others who were here interposed, and compelled cleopatra to lie down again, which she did, uttering all the time the most grievous complaints at the wretched degradation to which she was reduced, to be insulted thus by her own servant at such a time. if she had reserved any thing, she said, of her private treasures, it was only for presents to some of her faithful friends, to induce them the more zealously to intercede with octavius in her behalf. octavius replied by urging her to feel no concern on the subject whatever. he freely gave her, he said, all that she had reserved, and he promised in other respects to treat her in the most honorable and courteous manner. octavius was much pleased at the result of this interview. it was obvious, as it appeared to him, that cleopatra had ceased to desire to die; that she now, on the contrary, wished to live, and that he should accordingly succeed in his desire of taking her with him to grace his triumph at rome. he accordingly made his arrangements for departure, and cleopatra was notified that in three days she was to set out, together with her children, to go into syria. octavius said syria, as he did not wish to alarm cleopatra by speaking of rome. she, however, understood well where the journey, if once commenced, would necessarily end, and she was fully determined in her own mind that she would never go there. she asked to be allowed to pay one parting visit to antony's tomb. this request was granted; and she went to the tomb with a few attendants, carrying with her chaplets and garlands of flowers. at the tomb her grief broke forth anew, and was as violent as ever. she bewailed her lover's death with loud cries and lamentations, uttered while she was placing the garlands upon the tomb, and offering the oblations and incense, which were customary in those days, as expressions of grief. "these," said she, as she made the offerings, "are the last tributes of affection that i can ever pay thee, my dearest, dearest lord. i can not join thee, for i am a captive and a prisoner, and they will not let me die. they watch me every hour, and are going to bear me far away, to exhibit me to thine enemies, as a badge and trophy of their triumph over thee. oh intercede, dearest antony, with the gods where thou art now, since those that reign here on earth have utterly forsaken me; implore them to save me from this fate, and let me die here in my native land, and be buried by thy side in this tomb." when cleopatra returned to her apartment again after this melancholy ceremony, she seemed to be more composed than she had been before. she went to the bath, and then she attired herself handsomely for supper. she had ordered supper that night to be very sumptuously served. she was at liberty to make these arrangements, for the restrictions upon her movements, which had been imposed at first, were now removed, her appearance and demeanor having been for some time such as to lead octavius to suppose that there was no longer any danger that she would attempt self-destruction. her entertainment was arranged, therefore, according to her directions, in a manner corresponding with the customs of her court when she had been a queen. she had many attendants, and among them were two of her own women. these women were long-tried and faithful servants and friends. while she was at supper, a man came to the door with a basket, and wished to enter. the guards asked him what he had in his basket. he opened it to let them see; and, lifting up some green leaves which were laid over the top, he showed the soldiers that the basket was filled with figs. he said that they were for cleopatra's supper. the soldiers admired the appearance of the figs, saying that they were very fine and beautiful. the man asked the soldiers to take some of them. this they declined, but allowed the man to pass in. when the supper was ended, cleopatra sent all of her attendants away except the two women. they remained. after a little time, one of these women came out with a letter for octavius, which cleopatra had written, and which she wished to have immediately delivered. one of the soldiers from the guard stationed at the gates was accordingly dispatched to carry the letter. octavius, when it was given to him, opened the envelope at once and read the letter, which was written, as was customary in those days, on a small tablet of metal. he found that it was a brief but urgent petition from cleopatra, written evidently in agitation and excitement, praying that he would overlook her offense, and allow her to be buried with antony. octavius immediately inferred that she had destroyed herself. he sent off some messengers at once, with orders to go directly to her place of confinement and ascertain the truth, intending to follow them himself immediately. the messengers, on their arrival at the gates, found the sentinels and soldiers quietly on guard before the door, as if all were well. on entering cleopatra's room, however, they beheld a shocking spectacle. cleopatra was lying dead upon a couch. one of her women was upon the floor, dead too. the other, whose name was charmian, was sitting over the body of her mistress, fondly caressing her, arranging flowers in her hair, and adorning her diadem. the messengers of octavius, on witnessing this spectacle, were overcome with amazement, and demanded of charmian what it could mean. "it is all right," said charmian. "cleopatra has acted in a manner worthy of a princess descended from so noble a line of kings." as charmian said this, she began to sink herself, fainting, upon the bed, and almost immediately expired. the by-standers were not only shocked at the spectacle which was thus presented before them, but they were perplexed and confounded in their attempts to discover by what means cleopatra and her women had succeeded in effecting their design. they examined the bodies, but no marks of violence were to be discovered. they looked all around the room, but no weapons, and no indication of any means of poison, were to be found. they discovered something that appeared like the slimy track of an animal on the wall, toward a window, which they thought might have been produced by an _asp_; but the reptile itself was nowhere to be seen. they examined the body with great care, but no marks of any bite or sting were to be found, except that there were two very slight and scarcely discernible punctures on the arm, which some persons fancied might have been so caused. the means and manner of her death seemed to be involved in impenetrable mystery. there were various rumors on the subject subsequently in circulation both at alexandria and at rome, though the mystery was never fully solved. some said that there was an asp concealed among the figs which the servant man brought in in the basket; that he brought it in that manner, by a preconcerted arrangement between him and cleopatra, and that, when she received it, she placed the creature on her arm. others say that she had a small steel instrument like a needle, with a poisoned point, which she had kept concealed in her hair, and that she killed herself with that, without producing any visible wound. another story was, that she had an asp in a box somewhere in her apartment, which she had reserved for this occasion, and when the time finally came, that she pricked and teased it with a golden bodkin to make it angry, and then placed it upon her flesh and received its sting. which of these stories, if either of them, was true, could never be known. it has, however, been generally believed among mankind that cleopatra died in some way or other by the self-inflicted sting of the asp, and paintings and sculptures without number have been made to illustrate and commemorate the scene. this supposition in respect to the mode of her death is, in fact, confirmed by the action of octavius himself on his return to rome, which furnishes a strong indication of his opinion of the manner in which his captive at last eluded him. disappointed in not being able to exhibit the queen herself in his triumphal train, he caused a golden statue representing her to be made, with an image of an asp upon the arm of it, and this sculpture he caused to be borne conspicuously before him in his grand triumphal entry into the capital, as the token and trophy of the final downfall of the unhappy egyptian queen. translated by m. e. poindexter cleopatra by claude ferval garden city, new york garden city publishing co., inc. copyright, , by doubleday, page & company. all rights reserved. printed in the united states at the country life press, garden city, n. y. foreword cleopatra, that curiously perverse figure, that incarnation of fatal passion, what was she like? a combination of pride and frailty, adored and despised. plutarch said that "her charm entered into men's very souls," and horace thanked the gods for delivering the earth from that "_fatale monstrum_." it is not the gigantic outlines graven on the dusty walls of the temple at dendera that will reveal the mystery of cleopatra; nor yet those bronze medals from syracuse, with their curious hieratic profiles; disguised by these gross images who would recognize the intelligence, the passion, the daring, the flame, the storm, the witchery, that were united in that "serpent of old nile"? if only some masterpiece of greek sculpture had been preserved! if we possessed that statue made at cæsar's orders by the sculptor, timomachus! or that cherished treasure which a rich citizen of alexandria offered cæsar augustus two thousand talents to leave untouched! but all these portraits have disappeared. poor as we are in material we can only divine what she really was in appearance and in character. it is not certain that she was beautiful, at least not of that sensuous type of beauty which has been generally attributed to her. but, if tradition which has come down the ages has any weight, with her burning mouth, her radiant eyes, her slender body, which her country's fiery sun had polished till it shone like gilded marble, what creature born of woman was ever more fitted to inspire delight and adoration? "the kings who crossed her threshold died from excess of love." but physical beauty alone could not have so ensnared and deprived of reason such warriors as cæsar and antony, brave, indefatigable, honourable men, who fell at her feet, forgetting duty, honour, the very memory of their country, for love of her. we must look further. her rare intellect, which made her every word of interest; her incomparable, magnetic charm, which banished ennui and held her listeners enthralled; her ardent, passionate nature; these have made her peerless among the fascinators of the world, circe, delilah, heloise, yseult, carmen, sirens or walkyrie--living women, or creatures of the poets' fancy--all the enchantresses who have driven men to madness have had the one gift in common, that of arousing passion, stirring emotion, fanning the flame of love. whether their eyes had the blue of the heavens, or shone like stars at midnight, whether their noses were long or short, their mouths delicate or voluptuous, all the world-heroines have had burning hearts that touched their lovers' hearts with kindred fire. if cleopatra stands above all others it is because she possessed in a higher degree that sovereign gift that transforms the dullness of every-day life and creates an atmosphere of rose and gold. history shows her as crafty, diplomatic, frivolous, generous; capable of horrible cruelties; coveting the whole world; a prey to ambition, yet flinging it all away for the sake of her lover's kiss. but history gives us only half the picture. its frame is too narrow to hold it all. it is to imagination and her winged daughters, poetry and legend, that we have to look for the whole. the asp with which shakespeare encircled cleopatra's arm has made her more famous than her own great plan to wipe out rome and put alexandria in its place. the noted sonnet, which shows her in her silver trireme, on the waters of the cydnus, dont le sillage laisse un parfum d'encensoir, avec les sons de flutes et des frissons de soie. shows us more vividly her manner of living, than do all the erudite volumes concerning her life. notwithstanding all the splendid efforts to portray her that have been already made, will the public pardon my attempt to add another taper to light the mysterious ways of that wonderful woman, who, with a lotus flower in her hand, still stands with antony, weaving the enchanting mists of romance and breathing the warm breath of passion over the crumbling ruins of the world? contents i. julius cæsar ii. alexandria iii. mark antony iv. cleopatra v. the inimitables vi. antony's wives vii. the marriage at antioch viii. the two rivals ix. actium x. the death the life and death of cleopatra i julius cÆsar it was about seven o'clock. on the crowded docks of alexandria the sailors were unloading the last bales of merchandise. swiftly, like belated birds, the fishing boats dropped anchor at the old wharves in eunostus harbour. it was almost dark when the last vessel slipped in stealthily. a man stepped down, broad-shouldered, covered from head to foot with a dark cloak, his traveller's cap pulled down to his ears. with the utmost care he helped a woman to land, a woman so young, so light-footed, that she seemed almost a child. but, though barely seventeen years of age, would any one have called cleopatra a child? the wife for two years of the brother, whom the dynastic law had compelled her to marry on the death of her father; cast off by her perfidious consort, sent into exile and, coming back to-night under the care of apollodorus, she had undoubtedly a store of experience extraordinary for her age. one wonders how her impressions would have compared with those of the average girl, for cleopatra had grown up in a shamelessly corrupt court and was the daughter of ptolemy auletes, that remarkable dilettante king who had met the uproar of revolution and foreign invasion with the persistent playing of his flute. descendant of a race cultivated to the last degree, proficient herself in literature and art, with a thorough education, this young girl's outlook on life was one of unusual breadth. at the time when other girls, just released from the women's quarters, still revered virtue and dreamed of pleasure, she had already the inclination to beguile and to rule. with liberal views, she looked things squarely in the face; she fully recognized the value of men, and whether in serving or in pleasing them, had a spirit of rare understanding, keen and comprehensive. even in the depths of the thebaid--whither she had been exiled by the king on the advice of the agitator photinus--when she heard that cæsar had arrived in alexandria, she knew, by that curious intuition of super-sensitive minds, that unexpected good fortune was in store for her. but how could she reach this great man? by what means could she secure from his omnipotence that aid which would transform her from a prisoner to a queen? it was the greek savant, apollodorus, her professor of rhetoric, and warmly attached to her, who opened the negotiations. as cæsar from the very first interview had shown his interest in behalf of the persecuted young girl rather than in ptolemy and his crafty minister, cleopatra had no misgivings. although she was closely watched and ignorant of the roads, which were infested by gangs of robbers and murderers, she managed to escape with only two slaves for escort, and took passage down the nile to canopus, where apollodorus awaited her. trusting in his faithful devotion, she was confident of gaining her end. the voyage, however, was not without danger. in order to escape notice, one of the smallest boats had been selected and the wretched little fishing craft came very near being swallowed up by the waves. consequently it was with the joy and relief of the rescued voyager that the young lapida felt the solid ground of her capital under her trembling little feet; that dear alexandria which by right of birth she looked upon as her own. the next thing was to gain admission to the palace, and this was by no means easy. in spite of the roman occupation, soldiers, agents of the egyptian king, had watchful eyes for all that was going on. if she were recognized cleopatra would be again in her brother's power. fortunately apollodorus was both ingenious and sturdy. with the exquisite care due such a precious object, he wrapped up the young fugitive and, concealing her in a roll of rugs, hoisted the bundle on his shoulders like an ordinary parcel. who, seeing this porter walking along the wharf, laden like so many others, would have suspected the mystery hidden in his burden? at the bruchium he was recognized, but on his declaring that, in response to an order from cæsar, he was bringing him carpets, the palace guards allowed him to enter. julius cæsar was no longer a young man. all that life could give of glory, power, and pleasure he had had, and at times his nerves showed the effects. prematurely bald, the deep lines in his face indicated his weariness; but, at the least stimulus the brilliant splendour of his glance shone out. no one could come near the divine cæsar without immediately recognizing his supremacy; without feeling that magnetic quality of power and charm which could only be explained by remembering his descent by Æneas direct from venus herself. when he spoke, his gracious gesture, the resonance of his voice, won, at least while he was talking, the sympathy of his listeners. if he were silent, his very silence was eloquent, for people recalled his orations, those memorable words which had made an echo around the world. wherever he went, the fame of his astounding deeds surrounded him. not only was he pictured at the head of his legions, guiding them from one end to the other of that gaul which he had conquered; not only did the people actually see him, descending on italy through the terrible ravines of the alps, crossing at a bound the narrow rubicon, and sweeping down on rome in the throes of revolution, which, the instant the conqueror appeared, crouched meekly at his feet; but legend glorified him. the germans, whom he had defeated, were represented as a race of giants, whose mere glance was death. britain, where he had been the first to dare set foot, was said to be in total darkness three months of the year and inhabited by spirits. all these fantastic tales added to his real victories made them appear yet more marvellous. in appealing to a man like this, in coming to him to seek counsel and help, cleopatra relied to a certain extent on her natural rights; but she was not so foolish as to believe that being in the right was a woman's surest appeal. as she got out of the sack, where her charms had been hidden for the past hour, she felt the thrill of a young animal which has just been set free; then, with typical feminine eagerness, she grasped the burnished silver mirror which hung by a chain from her belt. what appalling disorder she beheld! her dainty overdress was all rumpled; her dishevelled hair fell on her neck in brown waves; of the antimony around her eyes, or the rouge on her lips and cheeks, not a trace was left. but thus simply clad, adorned only with the beauty of youth, was she any less blooming, less expressive, less distracting, this fascinating plaintiff who in a few moments would appear before her judge? she was anxious, however. she wondered how she would be received by this man who was accustomed to the guile of the romans, this powerful ruler to whom everyone, the most virtuous as well as the most corrupt, was compelled to yield. for cæsar's reputation was world-wide, and everyone knew that the great captain, writer, jurist, and orator was a libertine at heart. in addition to those excesses common to all young men, in which he had indulged amidst the gaieties of the world, it was well known that his adventures had brought grief to many households, not excepting those of his best friends; and it was in no kindly spirit that his name was coupled with the phrase: _omnium mulierum vir_--the husband of all women. cleopatra, however, was needlessly disturbed. to a temperament craving novelty, originality, fresh experience; to nerves tired as were those of the emperor, what vision could appeal so intensely as that of this queenly young woman? from the first moment, as he gazed on the rhythmic, harmonious grace of her body; her low, straight brows, the golden light in her eyes; her delicate nostrils, her parted, sensuous lips, her radiant, amber-coloured flesh, suggesting luscious sun-kissed fruit, cæsar had felt an indescribable thrill run through his veins. never, no, never before, had the west, or rome itself, with her ardent virgins, her tempting, seductive matrons, offered him anything so intoxicating. ready to grant everything that he might attain the height of his desire, he asked: "what can i do for you? what do you seek?" with charming tact, cleopatra replied in latin, which she spoke with the same ease that she did greek, egyptian, syrian, and several other languages. she described the tyranny of which she had been the victim, the criminal injustice which had made her a wanderer, and, with a confiding air which was irresistible, she said that she trusted in the omnipotence of cæsar to restore her crown. her voice was sweet and winning. the things she said, her claims against her usurping brother, became, the moment they left her lips, irrefutable truths. why should they not have seemed so to the gallant judge, fascinated by the starry light in her wonderful, dark eyes? cæsar's first impulse was to grant all her demands. but there were grave difficulties in the way. he had gone to egypt on a friendly visit and had only a few troops stationed there. those of ptolemy, on the other hand, were legion and well prepared to defend their sovereign. discretion forbade rashness. this was no time to "let slip the dogs of war." with enthusiasm, yet with a well-balanced judgment surprising in so young a woman, cleopatra tried to touch cæsar with her own fire. if he could not start the invasion at once, let him summon his armies as quickly as possible, and while awaiting their arrival, proclaim her reigning queen. while she was speaking the emperor could not take his eyes from her. he watched each rhythmic gesture, each word as it fell from her exquisite lips. "what an adorable mistress she would be!" he thought, as he breathed the perfume of her hair. and, feeling that she had conquered him, that he was ready to do whatever she wished, cleopatra had a thrill of delicious assurance--"in a little while i shall be queen!" on hearing that his sister, whom he believed he had got rid of, had arrived in alexandria, and that cæsar had sworn to restore her to power, ptolemy xii had one of those fits of demented rage to which this offspring of a degenerate race was subject. "the traitress!" he cried, crushing with his foot a murrhine vase of exquisite beauty. "she has tricked me. this decision that she has had the impudence to proclaim is nothing but damnable treason!" and placing achillas in command of his troops, he massacred the roman guard. this was the beginning of a war which was to last two years. with all the strength of the republic behind him it was obvious that cæsar would win; but at the outset the insurrections and riots, with which his soldiers were not in the habit of dealing, were hard to handle. rather than continually encounter these street brawls, where the odds were often against him, cleopatra's champion decided it was wiser to shut himself and his garrison up behind the walls of the bruchium; this could, in an emergency, be used as a fort, where he could hold siege while awaiting the arrival of his army. to be imprisoned with the man whom she was planning to captivate, so that he should have no interests other than her own--what conditions could have been more favourable to this young woman's dreams? the bruchium, founded by alexander, and added to by each of his successors, who, like the pharaohs, but with a more refined taste, had a passion for building, was not merely a palace. situated on a height, at a point where the hills which skirt the coast go down to the sea, its elaborate structures made it a city in itself; a magnificent enclosure of varied and unsurpassed splendour, where examples of massive egyptian architecture stood side by side with graceful monuments of greek art. the part of the palace set aside for cleopatra had been specially arranged by ptolemy auletes, anxious to provide suitable surroundings for his favourite daughter. lover of all that was rare and beautiful, this musician, no less sensitive to purity of line than to harmony of sound, had delighted in adorning it with the most perfect creations of art. at every turn were the exquisite works of myron, praxiteles, and phidias; finely carved candelabra, chairs of graceful outline, ivory coffers heavily encrusted with gold; jewelled tripods in which rare incense burned, and a wealth of carpets of marvellous and intricate design. there was no room in the gorgeous domain which did not afford a feast of form and colour to the eyes. all things seemed planned to enhance the joy of living. but the real wonder which surpassed all else, and which could only have been found under egyptian skies, was the stretch of gardens. fanned by the sea breeze the air there was delicious. terrace after terrace, connected by great marble steps, were dotted with fountains where crystal water flowed. under the benign influence of this water, brought by aqueducts from the nile, the vegetation was of unusual luxuriance. the green plants from more temperate climates, as well as the fig trees and palms which flourish in the tropics, grew everywhere. flowers bloomed in profusion; rosebushes from persia in such abundance that even the garden plots of ecbatana seemed poor compared with those whose fragrance mounted to the windows of the queen. was it strange that this son of venus, whom the needs of war had so often compelled to endure the cold of barbarous countries, should have revelled to the point of intoxication in the delights of such an abiding-place? everything united to bring about perfect felicity, and the grace and youth of the hostess crowned it all. from the very first he had loved her with one of those burning passions which are like the glowing sunset skies of early autumn, when summer is over and the trees are about to put on brilliant robes to surpass in colour all that has gone before. cleopatra gave herself unreservedly to the joys of love. privation, exile, the dread of further persecution, all these had made her eager for happiness. without questioning for a moment the nature of his affection, with no thought of the selfish motive behind it, she was enchanted at her triumph. indeed, on second thoughts even, she had every reason to be satisfied. she had sought only a protector; she had found a most passionate and tender lover. safe on board the great ship which had anchored near her coast, she had yielded to his powerful protection as to a force whose elements were not to be analyzed. if his devotion aroused no kindred sentiment in her bosom, the love of this mighty conqueror filled her with such pride, awakened such anticipations, that her heart felt no need of anything more vital. with dreams of a glorious future, she had a thrill of ecstacy at being borne along toward a destiny which, though unknown, with cæsar for a pilot, could not fail to be one of untold splendour. although frequently disturbed by the noise of the catapults and the clamour of the engines, with which the besiegers were riddling the approaches to the bruchium, the days that this pair of lovers spent there as prisoners were filled with rare delight. with no intruders to annoy them, with no other care than a continuous effort to give each other pleasure, their conversation broken only by renewed caresses, they fully realized that ideal of _solitude à deux_ which so many lovers have vainly sought. and now the armies that cæsar had summoned began to arrive. from cilicia and rhodes came ships laden with provisions. this put the situation in the control of the captives and everything was in their power. gaul sent bodies of infantry; rome supplied the ammunition; and the cavalry, under the command of calvinus, completed the effective force. the siege, which had lasted for six months, was now lifted and the war was carried into the open country. achillas's army, however, was more powerful than they had thought, and owing to its skilful tactics cæsar was often forced into awkward positions, but with the strength and courage of rome behind him his final success was a thing of certainty, and the beginning of the end was shown when he marshalled his men on the field of the delta. here the decisive battle was fought and, beaten, routed, driven into the waters of the nile, the troops of ptolemy were annihilated. that king met death as, on an improvised dam, he sought to leap across the flood. cæsar, more merciful than fate, spared the life of his opponent, achillas, when he was brought to him in chains. he was content to receive the required reprisals, and departed in hot haste for alexandria. there, in the seventh story of her tower, cleopatra was awaiting his return. when she caught the flash of his roman eagles, amidst a cloud of dust, her heart began to throb fiercely. unable to restrain her eagerness to see him, she ordered her litter at once. "run quickly," she commanded her carriers, twelve ethiopians, whose bronze legs shone as they sped swiftly over the road. the golden hawk which soared above its roof, the gorgeous purple curtains which hung at its sides, made the royal litter visible at a great distance. at the first signal of its approach, cæsar leaped from his horse and, with the delicate chivalry which distinguished him, greeted his beloved. he had been parted from her for several days and was longing to embrace her. "egypt is yours!" he exclaimed. "i have conquered it only to lay it at your feet. accept it." and he handed her the keys of alexandria which achillas, in surrendering, had given up to him. from that hour the rebels recognized the strength of the roman power and realized the ruin that photinus had brought upon them. from the ambitious heights of yesterday they had fallen to the desperate depths of to-day. they who had counted on reprisals were to have only amnesties; but who could have disputed the claims of the queen that such a magnanimous conqueror had placed upon the throne? on her first appearance in public cleopatra was acclaimed with an enthusiasm which would have been accorded her had she been the universally-designed sovereign. thanks to this war, which had been gained because of cæsar's adoration, she was once more in possession of the crown of her ancestors. in order, however, to secure the good will of the people, she submitted once again to the old dynastic rule, which required children of the same parents to share the throne, and agreed to wed her younger brother, ptolemy xiii. all being arranged to his satisfaction, it was now time for cæsar to leave egypt and return to rome where his party was clamouring for him. but cæsar was no longer his own master. given over to that passion which, to the end of his life, was to be the mainspring of all his actions, to come before duty, ambition, self-interest, and lead to his final downfall, he delayed his departure. deaf to the warning that each new messenger brought, he heeded only the voice of the dear enchantress who, in addition to all the other spells with which she had held him, now suggested the delight of a voyage together. in those days, as in our own, sailing along the borders of the nile, with the monuments of the pharaohs on either side, was a fascinating experience. aristocrats of wealth, princes from the orient, artists from asia minor and greece--after exploring the treasures of alexandria--alike found rare pleasure in sailing in the luxurious egyptian barges under the smiling skies. these voyages meant weeks of restful leisure and enjoyment. the barge of cleopatra was a floating palace. the charming apartments of the bruchium were reproduced in miniature. the various vessels which accompanied it accommodated a large staff, not of servants alone, but bands of dancers, poets, musicians, who were engaged to while away the time and make life an enchanting dream. winter was at hand; that season of snow and frost which, in less fortunate lands, plunges people in gloom; when all the fields are in mourning and the shivering trees wave their naked branches in distress. but there was no depression along the sunny route chosen by our travellers. propelled by the steady rowing of fifty nubians pulling on oars of ebony, they glided along, intoxicated with freedom, happiness, space, as toward a promised land, and at each stopping-place the golden sun seemed to shine with a richer glow. all at once, after the leagues of emerald foliage of the first few days, the vegetation grew scanty, the barge slipped along between barren shores, and the country, as far as the distant horizon, was a vast stretch of sand covered with arid hillocks, like volutes of silver, which melted away in the mist. here and there groups of aloes waved their sharp, blade-like branches, or clusters of date trees shook their feathery plumes, like giant torches about to burst into flame. as the barge approached memphis more buildings were seen: temples with broad columns, shining palaces of glittering whiteness, giant gateways like mighty mountains, all mirrored in the waters of the sacred river. the barge dropped anchor opposite the pyramids. cæsar was filled with wondering admiration at the mighty skill which had reared these colossal tombs. he who, as a disciple of plato, attached so little importance to the needs of the body, and who believed that immortality was attained only by the beauty which came from the soul, asked himself what thoughts had stirred the mind of a cheops or a chephren concerning the mystery of death? had they regarded it as the true life, and the earthly one merely as a passage leading to it? had they raised these temples in honour of death, or, indignant at its devastations, was it in defiance of it that they had erected these formidable triangles? among the countless mysterious monuments on the plains about memphis, the great sphinx of gizeh has always aroused the keenest wonder and curiosity. cleopatra had caught a glimpse of it in the distance on her adventurous flight and now she was overjoyed at letting cæsar compare her delicate grace with its tremendous proportions. the sun was setting behind the libyan hills when they drew near the sphinx. lying on her bed of sand, the monster seemed about to emerge from a vast beach beside a congealed ocean. although looking toward the east, her enigmatic smile already hidden in the shadow, her tawny back was touched by the last rays of the setting sun, which made her like a living creature. recalling the question that oedipus, anxious concerning his future, had put to that other sphinx long ago, the dictator, whose destiny also was uncertain, was tempted to interrogate this one. would she reply? mystery of mysteries! quivering at the touch of the warm young body at his side, looking at the reddish moon, breathing in the strange soul of the night, even had some wise counsel been whispered in his ear he was hardly in a state to heed it. the voice of love was too overpowering, he was deaf to all else. on the thirtieth day of their voyage the lovers reached philæ, that pearl in its double setting of blue sky and blue water, both so pure, so transparent, that it was difficult to tell which was the reflection of the other, which has inspired the poets of every age. those who once entered there went no further to seek an earthly paradise. to tarry, pitch their tent, and forget in the worship of its beauty all that had fretted and distracted them elsewhere, was the ardent desire of every artist who landed there. only a few, however, were allowed to carry it out. from remote ages the island had been in possession of the priests of isis, who did not tolerate the intrusion of profane outsiders. guardians of a temple which the religious fervour of its worshippers had made the richest in all egypt, these priests of the holy goddess allowed no interference with their rights; no one else was permitted to share the revenue, which was the largest in the land. in many of the sanctuaries, however, the religious rites were in no way disturbed by the addition of worldly goods; consequently the arrival of the royal visitors was regarded as a godsend. barges, filled with musicians, were sent down the river to welcome them, and along the banks a procession of priests greeted them with sacred songs. they were forced to attend the services in the temple, listen to orations, and receive committees bearing gifts. to celebrate their coming, goats were sacrificed and the blood of doves ran red. the official reception over, cleopatra requested that she and cæsar be left alone, quite undisturbed by any formalities, since that was their chief desire. during the heat of the day they remained indoors, where the spray from numerous fountains made the air comparatively cool. they amused themselves watching the blue, white, and pink lotus buds open their delicate petals, both lost in a delicious languor in which cares, plans, ambitions, were all forgotten. the young queen, however, never for a moment forgot the secret object of this voyage, which was to bind her great protector to her by indelible memories and make egypt's interests his own. in the evenings they loitered along the garden paths, breathing the honey-scented fragrance of the tropical violets, or lingered in the shadowy groves whose branches sent showers of gold dust on their heads. here, in response to her lover's tender speeches, she would reply, in a tone of almost childish terror: "oh! yes, of course my country is the most beautiful in all the world, but it is so difficult to govern it." and cæsar, moved by the frailty of the slender arm about his neck, would with deep earnestness pledge her the perpetual and all-powerful support of his own country. although this absence from public life could not be prolonged indefinitely, these lovers wished at least to commemorate the happy memory of these days together. a plan for a temple was drawn up, and, before leaving the island, in a space surrounded by oleander trees, where birds of brilliant plumage flitted in and out, they laid the corner-stone. two thousand years have gone by, and the pilgrims who in each succeeding age have visited the paradise of philæ have gazed in admiration on the exquisite marble colonnade of pure corinthian design which stands there in delicate beauty. the name of no goddess is carved upon its stone, but each pilgrim knows to whom it is dedicated. at alexandria a delegation awaited cæsar. when rome heard that the conqueror of the pharaohs, the hero on whom his country's hopes relied, was dallying with a new circe, there was general consternation. did he think that he could defy fate? what his good fortune and his genius had built, his neglect could destroy. what would happen if the allies of pompey, knowing that cæsar was distracted by a love affair, should mobilize new troops? the more daring among these were already on the alert and threats were in the air. however sweet a pillow a woman's breast may be, a man of cæsar's stamp is roused by the call of his friends: "your honour is at stake." at the sound of the voice of those who had come to seek him, the lover started from his sleep. he knew that all his mighty deeds would count for nothing if he did not respond to the appeal of the hour. he must go at once. he would go, but he must have time to break the tidings to the woman who had put her trust in him. with all possible tenderness he told cleopatra of the coming separation. "ah!" she cried, "you wish to unwind my arms from about your neck?" and with a passionate gesture she held him closer, and cæsar, strong against the world, was weak against his loved one. he hesitated; then, happily remembering the maxim which had guided him through life: "the first, always, and everywhere," his courage came again. he was not an ordinary voluptuary whose instinct was his master. his noble temperament demanded action and the strain of public life was essential to him. "shall i," he muttered, "who have looked on mankind as a vile herd, become by cowardly inertia like unto those i scorn?" cleopatra was overcome with grief at the thought of losing him. how would she fare with cæsar far away? who would protect and defend her? who would help her to govern her capricious and deceitful people? she was about to become a mother and, relying on this new tie which would bind her lover to her, she made him promise not to leave her before the birth of her child. and cæsar was much interested in the expected birth; what he had said to her regarding the coming child had given cleopatra ground for the most exalted hopes. it had been a source of keen regret to him that none of his three wives had given him an heir. he had been particularly anxious since the death of his daughter julia, and the consequent loss of her fortune. to whom should he leave his boundless wealth, that vast estate that he owned in umbria? who would carry on the divine race of the cæsars? to be sure, his sister atia had a son, octavius, but this nephew was in delicate health, of a weak, undecided character, which did not promise a brilliant future. who could tell whether the coming bastard would not be a more worthy heir to the glorious fortunes of the emperor? the baby was born on the very eve of the day that the friends of cæsar, worn out with waiting, had made him agree to set sail. it was a boy! by wonderful chance the scarcely-formed features of the tiny creature showed an undeniable resemblance to those of his father. the hearts of those who are beginning to grow old are naturally easily moved, and the emperor's joy in his new-born son was very evident. he decided to call him cæsarion and promised to adopt him. in a touching farewell scene, filled with reproaches and protestations, cleopatra expressed the cherished desire of her heart: "make me your wife, o cæsar!" her dainty head, adorned with her restored crown, was filled with new aspirations. she was no longer content with ruling the country of her ancestors. it had lost prestige and was now scarcely more than a commercial power. her secret dream was to link her destiny with that of the master of the roman empire. at first cæsar was alarmed at this suggestion. in the royal palace on the aventine, calpurnia, his lawful wife, awaited his return. cleopatra herself was married, bound by the tradition of her line. but what were such obstacles to the youthful heroine who had measured the world and found it none too large for her ambitions? she laid stress on what it would mean to them both, this contract which, uniting the vast riches of the one with the warlike genius of the other, would make all things possible for them. the prospect was magnificent and cæsar was tempted. he understood how well it fitted in with his own passion for his royal mistress. but would rome allow him to carry it out? one of the strictest laws of the roman senate forbade the marriage of patricians with foreigners. "but are you not above the law?" said the loved voice of the temptress. what man could resist being placed in the ranks of the gods? it was the moment of farewell. overcome, cæsar took cleopatra in a final embrace. there was no formal engagement but, with the departure of her lover, she felt the solemnity of a betrothal. left alone, her imagination ran riot; and she was lost in fantastic dreams. she had visions of a rome humiliated, submissive to the will of alexandria. vassals crouched at her feet, coming to lay down their arms and present the keys of their different capitals. multitudes passed before her, and she fancied she heard her name coupled with that of cæsar, amidst general acclamation. happy in such dreams, her solitude was transformed, it was no longer a desolate, arid plain; the stage changed and the coveted goal seemed more real than the dull present. once free from the sorcery which the dark, velvet eyes of the egyptian had thrown over him, cæsar was himself again; shrewd, clear-minded, quick at wise decisions. his eagle eye took in things at a glance. the conditions were far from being what they had been at pharsalus. no longer dreading him, the army of pompey had had time to reorganize. it was threatening him on every side. the danger seemed more imminent in the orient; so, before returning to italy, the emperor set sail for asia minor and began by destroying the enemy's fleet which was blocking the entrance to the cydnus; then, with an army of tried veterans, from whom he could demand miracles, he attacked caius cassius at ephesus, pharnaces at zela, returned to africa and there won the battle of thapsus. after having gained vast sums from the terrified rulers, in exchange for certain territories which he granted the enemy, he reëntered rome, laden with spoils, to calm the malcontents. triumph awaited cæsar, such a triumph as the via sacra had never seen before. beholding him crowned with laurels, followed by a procession of captive kings, and greater than them all, by the illustrious vercingetorix, who represented the opposing armies of gaul, the roman people forgot their grievances. around his chariot, on which was inscribed in letters of gold the famous phrase, _veni, vidi, vici_, the crowd flocked with the enthusiasm of children welcoming a long-lost father. the aristocracy was more reserved; it was to the people that the dictator looked for support; it was to improve their conditions that his first reforms were brought about. but he understood this unstable mass, and the sudden changes that their whims effected, too thoroughly to confine his reforms to serious benefits alone. to amuse the populace has always been the surest means of holding it. consequently cæsar ordered festivals and banquets. in every quarter of the city wheat was distributed, and oil and wine were provided in abundance. there was acting of plays; the circuses were filled with crowds, eager to watch the slaughter of gladiators and look on as the blood flowed from the wounded beasts. the orgy lasted forty days and during all that time there was but one opinion. cæsar was the _illustrious_, the _invincible_, the _beloved father of his country_. every title and every honour was bestowed upon him. he was consul, dictator for ten years. he received the insignia of the great pontiff. his chair of state was placed above all the other chairs, and on the statue erected to him in the temple of jupiter the word "god" was chiselled. at alexandria, however, things were not going so smoothly. in spite of the troops which cæsar had left, under the command of calvinus, to maintain order, seditious outbreaks occurred. more or less openly the queen was accused of having decoyed the alien, of having become the mistress of a roman, and of compromising the honour of the kingdom by declaring him to be the father of her child. did she mean to put as future king over the egyptians one who was not of their own race? such accusations would have had no weight with any one strong enough to ignore them. but cleopatra was not yet the dauntless ruler who later on was to defy public opinion and lead her own armies to battle. at twenty years of age she was sensitive; she shuddered at these whispers of revolution. the protector who had restored her throne and made her respected thereon was no longer at her side; she was uneasy. could she always withstand these snares, these threats, these uprisings? until now cæsar's influence, even in his absence, had been strong enough to shield her. but if these insurrectionists should think her deserted, dependent only on her own resources, of what attempt would they not be capable? besides, foul rumours were abroad. it was said that during the expedition in africa the emperor had amused himself with the queen eunonia. was it possible? so soon after leaving her bosom where he had sworn to be faithful to her forever? ah, how powerless is woman when her lover is no longer within reach of her encircling arms! but the distance between them was not impassable. if it were true, as his letters declared, that cæsar loved her still and was desolate at being so far away from her, why should she not go to him? the desire to strengthen, lest it become too lax, the bond which united them was mixed with a certain curiosity in regard to rome itself. rome, her hereditary foe; that rival against whom perpetual vigilance was needed. seen at close quarters a rival is less deadly, for one can find ways of opposing her. cleopatra decided to suggest the visit to cæsar. after a year's absence from her, his letters declared that he cared for her as deeply as ever. if he had been attracted by the queen of numidia, it had been but a passing fancy, or rather the need, through some diversion, to escape the memories which were taking too much of his time. burdened with grave responsibilities, did he have any right to be so absorbed in his love affairs? indeed he was always going back, sometimes with a degree of intensity over which he had no control, to the affecting scenes at the bruchium, or recalling the hours when he had been lulled to slumber by the soothing waters of the nile. cæsar did not agree immediately, however, to the proposed visit. to have the queen of egypt come to rome was a serious undertaking. he would not wish to run the risk until everything had been made smooth for the trip. the gravest difficulty lay in the natural antipathy of the romans to everyone who wore a crown. it might almost be said that this sentiment was so deeply rooted that the mere approach of royalty seemed to endanger the monarchy. now cleopatra was an especial object of distrust. she was known to be ambitious, and no one had forgotten the spell she had cast over cæsar. the discontent that had been felt momentarily toward him was now directed against her. in order to clear the one they accused the other, and the blame fell upon her. a woman must have had strange powers to have kept the emperor away from his own country for such a long time; to have detained him at such a great distance from those who had the strongest claims upon him! how far was it wise to bring his mistress amongst such adverse opinions? cæsar put the question to himself. he did not dare to expose her to a hostile reception; still less could he afford to disregard the enemies who were ready to resent his shortest absence in order to go to her. and so the days went by and cleopatra was filled with grief and indignation. it was from her that the final decision came which solved the vexed question. pretending that the conditions of her treaty with rome had never been settled, she offered to come in person to discuss several disputable clauses. in order to obtain the title of _socius republicæ_ (ally of the republic) it was not in the least necessary for the queen to go herself: the different ambassadors could have attended to the matter; but the roman senate, flattered by her preferring to deal directly with it, extended her an invitation. the trick had succeeded. there was nothing more to do but to start on the journey. the june sun was shining brilliantly. with her forum alive, her windows crowded, the multitudes ranged along the principal thoroughfares, rome seemed to be holding a festival. defiance, however, rather than sympathy, was the spirit of the crowd. many strange stories were afloat concerning the coming visitor. to some, she was a courtesan, glittering with pearls and gold; to others, she was a sorceress, whose evil influence drove to distraction all those who came near her. for the majority, cleopatra was simply the alien, the woman from the east, that is to say, the thing that the roman people despised more than anything on earth. the procession was composed of black slaves wearing gold ear-rings; of eunuchs clothed in long robes, like those worn by women; of ministers with their heavy wigs; of half-naked soldiers (whose heads, adorned with antennae, resembled huge insects). when it began to file past, there were shouts of laughter. derision greeted the appearance of the astronomers, whose pointed caps seemed reaching toward the sky, and the priests muffled in panther skins. the jeering grew louder at the sight of the standards on which sacred images were painted. what, those jackals, those hawks, those cows! they were meant for gods? and the latin commonsense rebelled against a religion debased by such emblems. but in the midst of the flashing splendour of spears and shields, the royal litter was seen. silence reigned and all eyes were fixed on cleopatra with her baby in her arms. this child, a cause of embarrassment to her at alexandria, it was on his winning smile, on his astonishing likeness to cæsar, that she had relied to gain a warm welcome from the romans. and she was not mistaken. at this time cæsar was the idol of rome. everything he did was approved, and if there were covert sneers and occasionally harsh criticisms, no one would have dared openly to attack his invited guests. however beautiful she might be, the queen of egypt could not hope to please a people so infatuated with themselves as were the romans, who looked on their own race as superior to all others. with her golden complexion, her eyes so painted with antimony that they seemed to touch her temples, her vivid red lips, her curious headdress, from which a snake of gold peered forth; her transparent tunic, which left her bosom bare, cleopatra shocked and scandalized the roman people. but, as cæsar's orders made graciousness obligatory, they pretended to be absorbed in the tiny cæsarion, whose fair skin and quick, intelligent expression indicated his divine ancestry. moreover, in order that there should be no mistake in regard to the respect due cleopatra and her son, cæsar had installed them in the palace which he had just had built on the left side of the tiber, overlooking the magnificent gardens along the edge of the hill of janiculum; those gardens which were left to the populace in his will, which generous gift the day after his death brought the people to their knees, in tears, to look upon his blood-stained toga. on finding herself, at last, the honoured guest of rome, cleopatra felt that keen pleasure of achievement which follows a hard struggle for success. in spite of all obstacles she had, to her entire satisfaction, accomplished the first part of her undertaking. but the essential thing, the real triumph, was yet to be carried out. she must bind her lover by that long-desired marriage which would make her twice a queen. for a woman of her talent, accustomed to using her varied powers of fascination to gain her ends, the present situation was ideal. rome, from the very moment that she had entered its gates, had ceased to be the austere stronghold, where each and every citizen, faithful to his lares and penates, was steadfast in revering ancient traditions. these traditions, which had made the strength and greatness of the republic as well as its formidable power, were already losing their hold. the old religion was passing; although still acknowledged by the state, unbelievers were many, especially among the aristocracy. if the people had still a certain fear of the gods, this did not prevent them from breaking the laws of their deities, or from desecrating their temples in moments of passion. the story of the cynical soldier who boasted of having stolen the statue of diana and of having made a fortune by this godless act was a common tale. the inviolability of the marriage law was a thing of the past. on every hand, senators, consuls, high dignitaries, put away their wives on the slightest pretext. cicero himself, the best, the gentlest of men, said to terentia, his wife for thirty years, the cruel words of divorcement: "go hence and take with you whatever belongs to you," in order to put a younger, more beautiful woman in her place. this disregard of the morals and manners of the old régime was a general canker, pervading all classes of roman society. shocking scandals marked the closing days of the circus, when it was a common occurrence for the nobles to descend into the arena and measure arms with the gladiators. the immense fortunes, accumulated during the war, had wiped out the simple habits of former days. gold was the god that reigned supreme. originally used for the decoration of the temples only, it was now displayed in private houses, where furniture, ceilings, walls, everything, was gilded. as a protest against the wanton luxury of his contemporaries cato made a practice of walking about bare-footed, in a torn toga; but no one followed his example! he was merely ridiculed, while the procession of gorgeous chariots rolled on. no longer restrained by the oppian law, the women's extravagance in dress knew no limit. encircling their arms, twisted in their hair, clasping their ankles, golden ornaments of etruscan workmanship glittered over them from head to foot; about their necks fell jewelled chains, which had been brought, at fabulous cost, from the rich caverns of india. the banquets that were served at the tables of the wealthy patricians rivalled those of lucullus. the dishes of silver, the richly carved goblets, the heavy purple draperies of the couches, equalled in magnificence those of oriental sovereigns. dignity, along with the once-revered virtues of economy, sobriety, endurance, all that rome had stood for in the old days, was becoming a mere legend of the past. but if the old society was changing, giving place to a new era which lacked the dignity of its predecessor, it is certain that the actual joy of living was materially increased. the culture of letters, the pursuit of art, had never been so widely spread. the philosophy, the sculpture, the language even, of greece--which cultivated people prided themselves on speaking perfectly--had been born anew in the rome of that day. there was no aristocratic youth who did not as a matter of course finish his education at rhodes, apollonia, or, best of all, at athens. the theories that they learned there were universally accepted. a knowledge of literature was general in the higher ranks of society, where formerly it had been the exclusive privilege of the so-called intellectuals. it became the fashion to be learned. many patrician homes aspired to the honour of entertaining a savant or a philosopher. it was considered a particular distinction to have the youthful virgil, recently arrived from mantua, as a guest, and to hear him recite his gracious pastorals at evening entertainments; or to listen to the verses of that poem, forged on the ringing anvil which was to resound down the ages, sung by horace, then a youth of twenty years. in fact, everywhere, from whatever source it sprang, talent was held in high esteem. cleopatra understood at once the tremendous part that her personal charm could play in a society eager for everything that was new, original, and interesting. probably she alone, among all the women there, was in a position to attract to her apartments learned men from all countries, and to furnish them with liberal, amusing recreation. endowed with the rare and fascinating advantage of an understanding and spirit unequalled either by the roman matrons, absorbed in their household affairs, or by the famous courtesans, whose conversation was often both frivolous and ribald, she had every reason to be confident of success. in the sumptuous hall, which her artistic taste had adorned with luxurious divans, rich rugs, splendid draperies, she entertained the friends of cæsar, who, happy in having his latest _inamorata_ restored to him, came every evening to forget at her side the political cares of the day. he enjoyed meeting his friends there informally, though all the while looking forward to the hour when he would clasp her lissome, perfumed body, and feel her heart beat against his own. trebonius, lepidus, sulpicius rufus, curion, and other senators of congenial tastes were always to be found there. they discussed the leading questions of the hour; the means for carrying out promises made to the troops; the abolition of debts, reduction of rents. in all these debates they were surprised to hear this young woman, who apparently was there only to illuminate the room with her shining eyes, or to charm the hearers by the tinkling of her bracelets, give grave advice on these important matters and show in all things a wise judgment. their astonishment grew greater on overhearing her conversation with the historian sallust, whose writing and psychology she had studied and appreciated. her comments were trenchant and convincing. the orator asinius pollion delighted in bringing his serious speeches to her for criticism, as well as those little ironical poems in which, speaking through the mouth of a shepherd, he ridiculed the absurdities of his fellow-citizens. her arguments and criticism were marvels of intelligent thought. her discussions with the archæologist, atticus, in whose discoveries she was much interested, when he unrolled the delicately illuminated persian scrolls, pointed out a bit of ivory polished by the patient skill of a chinese workman, or showed her a fragment of bas-relief from the temple of ephesus, all these indicated an unusual mind, alive to wide-reaching interests. who would not have been moved at seeing this young girl poring over that chart of the heavens, on which a congress of savants was engaged in their alteration of the calendar; or watching her follow the evolution of the great bear, of cassiopeia, of orion, around the north star? truly in all things she was an exceptional creature, one of those chosen by the deities to represent them on earth. it was at this time that mark antony, young, handsome, renowned, was presented to her. he had just arrived from spain, covered with laurels won at munda and laden with spoils. the fame of incomparable valour had given him a crown of glory. with his athletic body, the bacchus-like smile which lighted up his face, his generous extravagance, he made a heroic figure, recalling the mythical hercules, from whom he claimed descent. although for the moment enamoured of the courtesan cytheris, the young soldier was deeply impressed by the bewildering beauty of cleopatra and it was only his sincere devotion to cæsar which prevented him from expressing his admiration openly. he could not forget any single detail of their first meeting: the queenly grace with which the enchantress stretched out her tiny hand for him to kiss, the dress she wore that first evening, or the sudden anguish that thrilled him at the sound of her voice. however enthusiastic was the adoration of this new aspasia within that sanctuary of art and literature which her villa had become, a pack of wolves was snarling just outside. it was made up of virtuous, or pretendedly virtuous, men, indignant at the generally accepted and avowed liaison of the dictator with this foreign woman. all the women of position in rome were with them. the majority of them had endured humiliation at the hands of their husbands, and these embittered wives were leagued together in jealous persecution of this oriental sorceress of loose morals, whose dwelling was thronged with the men who had deserted their own firesides to seek her. but cleopatra's worst enemies were her political foes. bound by ancient traditions, the conservatives were uneasy at these new proceedings, which tended more and more to encroach on old customs. for some time it had been well known that cæsar's ambition and personal desire were goading him to seek sovereign power; but, however evident had been the pomp with which he loved to surround himself, it was on his royal mistress that the chief blame fell. was he giving up pious ways, did he disregard the laws, was he careless of all that rome held most sacred? it was the accursed egyptian who was responsible for all. whether or not it was the fault of the fair foreigner, it was evident that each day cæsar strayed further and further from republican forms. since the wars were over, there was no excuse for his prolonging his dictatorship. he was now absolute arbitrator and controlled all the affairs of the state. he chose the officers and divided the confiscated territories as he pleased. where would his power stop? the title of king itself could not increase this power, but the feeling prevailed that he coveted that title and would seize the first opportunity to assume it. so far from consulting his colleagues as to ways and means, according to the established usage among senators, consuls, and pontiffs, he seemed to delight in defying them, and showing the public that he looked on their opinions as antiquated, if not obsolete. with an insolence reeking of the grand seigneur, a lord who had flung off the traditions of his caste, he deliberately ridiculed the ethics of cato, and was skeptical of everything, including the gods themselves. had he not declared in the open senate, among other imprudent sayings which had been noised abroad and exaggerated, that "the republic from now on is a word without meaning?" cicero was leader of the party most genuinely alarmed by this state of things. the great orator was, after cæsar, the first citizen of rome. at all events he was the most honest and among those most respected. his liberal views had formerly associated him with pompey's party and, since the latter's defeat, he had lived in retirement in his villa at tusculum, given over to meditation. it had been a keen regret to cæsar to lose the friendship of this warm-hearted man whose distinguished ability was so widely known and who would have been an invaluable adviser. the withdrawal of so important a figure had also been a blow to cleopatra's pride. to entice him to her home, to number him among her courtiers, to make him an ally against the day when it might be necessary to break the law to gain her ends; with all her boundless ambition, this idea became a veritable obsession. she unbosomed herself to atticus, who was an intimate friend of cicero. attached as he was to the queen whose hospitality had afforded him so many agreeable hours, he promised to use his influence with cicero. no one was better fitted for the duties of ambassador. to bring together, to reconcile, to persuade, were intrinsic qualities of his serene nature. he was undoubtedly helped in his mission by the insufferable ennui which was consuming cicero. for a man who had known the intoxication of power, who had been applauded in tones to shake the columns of the temples, there was no worse punishment than to be forced into seclusion. in order to hear again the praises of the crowd which was eager for him, to accept the homage which awaited him, and, above all, to enjoy the splendour of cleopatra's library, where he would be free to read to his heart's content, the man of letters yielded to temptation and appeared at her portals, wrapped in the toga which no one knew so well as he how to drape about the shoulders. cæsar was there to welcome him. cleopatra, radiant as always when one of her caprices had triumphed, received her distinguished guest with every honour. to please his connoisseur's taste, that first evening she drew his attention to the interesting things in her luxurious dwelling. one table was covered with antique parchments, embellished with curious drawings, depicting the history of the pharaohs. the orator with his delicate hands would unroll these time-yellowed pages, and, while he was admiring the singular figures of the egyptian hieroglyphics, the queen would translate the meaning of the script in her cultivated, sweet-toned voice. seeing his keen interest she thought him already won, but to make sure she promised that the precious writings should be sent to him at tusculum the very next day. a man of cicero's character, however, was not so easily beguiled. if, after the various pledges made to the conservative party, he had for the moment believed that cæsar would return to his old liberal views, the recent outbreaks, the arbitrary proceedings, left him no shadow of illusion. without a doubt the fall of the republic was close at hand, and nowhere did the patriotic old man find an atmosphere more repugnant to his cherished ideals than in the court of the transtevera. gradually he stopped attending the sessions there. he felt freer to express his opinions outside its doors, and, alluding probably to the mixed crowd, enthusiastic but vulgar, which cæsar's popularity had attracted, he replied to atticus's query as to the cause of his absence: "i cannot be content in a place so devoid of civility." this criticism, as well as other comments on his attitude, made no impression on cæsar. he saw no need of concessions, especially if they were demanded by minds less daring than his own. the one thing necessary to establish his authority was the carrying out of some yet more brilliant project. to attain the height of his dream the old weapons were out of date. new expeditions, new wars even, must be planned; something that would surpass in splendour all his other achievements. the country that attracted his adventurous spirit, tempted him with the most entrancing visions, was persia; that persia which had been the scene of the world-famous exploits of alexander. its boundless territory, its high plateaus, which pastured peaceful herds; its valleys, watered by the abundant streams of the tigris and the euphrates; its hanging gardens, its palaces of porphyry, its temples with their crowned columns; its incomparable rugs, its roses, its porcelains--all the fascinating possibilities of this kingdom called him, and the appeal was irresistible. how different it was from poor, bare, barbarous gaul! if he could perch his eagles in persia, he would gain not only glory, a glory equal to that of the victorious macedonian, but the inexhaustible riches of the country. cleopatra was even more enthusiastic than cæsar in the pursuit of this wonderful vision. with no illusions as to the hatred which surrounded her, she fully realized that the only way to make the stern roman aristocracy accept her presence was through the mighty power of cæsar. to augment this power, to extend it from the borders of the orient to her own country, to build a pedestal so high that from it she could see the whole world, was the ambition of the young queen. so, although it was hard to leave the palace where she had so calmly and persistently played her part as a great lady of rome, harder still to go back to egypt and rejoin the clown whom she had accepted for her husband, she began to make ready for the journey. it was generally known that when the dictator came back from the campaign in persia he would celebrate their wedding and adopt the son that she had given him. certain malcontents declared that to the supreme power, which now equalled that of any king, cæsar would then add the royal sceptre, and that he was planning to found a far-reaching empire, whose capital would be alexandria. these rumours disturbed the people; they wounded them in their tenderest spot, their desire for the supremacy of their beloved rome. to threaten it with division, with possible downfall, aroused the fiercest passions of the multitude. as usual, the responsibility for these evil schemes fell on cleopatra. the hatred of her was redoubled. her enemies invented fantastic tales and circulated the dreadful accusation that she sealed her oaths with the avowal: "as surely as that one day i shall rule rome." when they heard this the wrath of the multitude overflowed. when her litter appeared in the street, there was a riot. on every hand there were threats of compelling this egyptian interloper to leave the country, of forcing her to return to her own land of crocodiles! these disrespectful speeches naturally came to cæsar's ears. they angered him more than the criticisms of his own conduct. to dare to desecrate the sacred one whom he had chosen! to approach her with lack of reverence! it was not to be tolerated! alluding to a special group which had offended him, he exclaimed: "you shall see the penalty that i will inflict on those greasy, curly-pated slanderers!" he immediately summoned timomachus, who for the past month had been working on a statue of the queen, made of ivory overlaid with gold. "how long will it take to finish that piece of sculpture?" he demanded. the sculptor reflected, estimated the time needed for the required incrustations of gold, which were not even begun, and answered, awkwardly, "twenty years, at least." "i will give you three days," declared the dictator. "in three days i desire that statue to be placed on its pillar in the temple of venus-genitrix." the autocratic temper of cæsar, which frequently brought on violent crises owing to his delicate, over-wrought nerves, was too well known for any one to dare to oppose his wishes. the dedication of the statue took place with great ceremony on the day specified, and with rage in their hearts, priests, noblemen, officers of all ranks were compelled to bow before this new goddess who had invaded their temple. a little later, in order to see how far he could brave public opinion, cæsar devised a new experiment. it was at the festival of lupercalia, a carnival lasting several days, during which the young patricians ran half naked through the streets, striking in jest the passers-by with leather thongs, under pretext of bringing them good luck. in his position of grand pontiff, cæsar presided at the festival. seated in the tribune, in a chair of gold and ivory, he had cleopatra by his side. after the earth had been sprinkled with the blood of goats and dogs, according to the customary rites, he was about to withdraw, when mark antony, pushing his way through the crowd, boldly offered him a diadem. at this movement a murmur arose, like the sound of the sea before a coming storm. cæsar felt that it was not the moment for such a display and he turned away. but, urged on by the queen, who perhaps was the original instigator of the comedy, mark antony insisted on proffering the glittering crown. the angry murmur increased; it sounded now as though the wind were rushing through the waves. decidedly this was not an auspicious hour. with a sterner gesture than before, a gesture which left no room for doubt, cæsar threw back his head and thrust aside the tempting jewel. all the world was witness, he had refused to be crowned as king! many of the spectators, deceived by the scene which had just taken place, applauded furiously. others, keener-sighted, detected signs of a plot, and said to each other: "oh, no doubt he refuses to-day, but only to accept more graciously when he shall come back, bearing the standards of victory!" and in dark corners conspirators began to gather. spring was drawing near. it was about the middle of the month consecrated to the god of war. blown by strong winds the tiny clouds scudded across the faint blue sky. the quivering trees began to swell and the crests of the seven hills around rome were touched with vivid green. at their base lay the city, shrouded in the dim evening light. the clamour of the streets slowly died out and silence reigned. it was the hour when, the day's work done, each was going to his own home. this was the time when cæsar, absorbed all day by his preparations for war, was hastening toward the dwelling of his beloved and beautiful mistress. seated near the window, from which she could see him coming, cleopatra was lost in dreams. a few more days and they must part. while cæsar was seeking fresh conquests through the caspian gates she would be once more on the borders of the nile. the coming separation made her anxious, suggested painful isolation and unknown difficulties. she was resigned, however, for she knew it was inevitable. was not glory as necessary to rulers as bread to the common people? master of persia, cæsar would be lord of all. no human power could then prevent them from carrying out their plans. he would place her on the thrones of nineveh and babylon, and proclaim her as his lawful wife. together they would build their capital and this same rome, which she had heard roaring like an infuriated she-wolf whenever she passed, would be compelled to receive her with acclamation. it was on these mighty visions, on this dream of semiramis, that the dreadful thunderbolt of the ides of march was about to fall. morning had just come. cæsar had left her scarcely an hour before, and in leaving had crushed her to his heart as though he would never let her go. by one of those mysterious forebodings which sometimes come in moments of decisive action and which should never be ignored, she had tried to detain him. "why are you going so early? you said you were tired. stay here and rest." but, no, he was expected. for fear lest he be late brutus had sent cassius to meet him, and, with no flinching of his traitor face, the latter had told him he must make haste, that there were matters of grave importance awaiting him in the senate. and it was there that the blow fell. a sudden noise was heard. "hark, what was that?" the passers-by halted to ask what had happened. suddenly the portico was filled with blanched faces. there was a terrifying cry: "cæsar is assassinated!" wailing was heard on every side, but it was drowned by the yells of the murderers, who, swords in hand, surged around, shrieking: "we have avenged the honour of the republic!" horrified, not knowing what to believe, the people scattered, like a river that had burst its dam, and spread all over the city. in a moment the frightful news reached all quarters of rome. disorder and consternation reigned. the shops were quickly closed; each man hid his terror behind the shutters of his house. all knew that an overwhelming disaster had fallen on rome and that others, many others, were treading closely on its heels. to cleopatra it meant the end of all her hopes. a great black gulf seemed to open at her feet, swallowing in its hungry depths her whole future. the world was a desert. gangs of armed men ran along the shores of the tiber, waving batons surmounted by skull-caps, the roman symbol of liberty. they paused under the windows of the royal palace. fierce cries rang out on the air of that fair spring morning. "down with the egyptian woman! put her to death! put her to death!" they were the same voices that spring up the world over, in every age, at the sign of revolution. some attendants gathered around the queen, eager to defend her; but they were too distracted to afford any certainty of protection. apollodorus, alone, whose stern commonsense never deserted him in the most critical moments, spoke quickly, and with authority: "your majesty must quit this bloody town without delay!" but it was not in cleopatra's nature to yield to threats, and she rebelled. her instinct was to resist this mob. perhaps all was not yet lost. cæsar would surely have avengers. a party had already formed, with antony at its head. he had loved the dead cæsar, and would be likely to respect his wishes, to recognize the young cæsarion as his lawful son, the proper heir to.... this was only an illusion; an illusion which, if persisted in, would be disastrous. in the prevailing tumults neither the child nor his mother would be safe. the cries grew louder. there was nothing to do but heed the counsel of apollodorus. with his ingenuity and affection he had already made all necessary preparations for flight. through the same gardens, along dangerous paths, surrounded by spies, the scene of four years ago--when she had come, a persecuted girl, to cæsar for protection--was repeated, and cleopatra, heavily veiled, slipped out of the hostile city of rome. as she journeyed on she felt sometimes almost overwhelmed by the racking anguish of her heart. it seemed as though the earth were giving way under her feet. horror! desolation! to be alone, when so short a while before she had had the master of the world for her companion! the thought made her dizzy. but at her breast was the tiny head bearing the features of that master. she pressed the child closer and kissed his smiling mouth. no! all was not lost. hope was born anew and courage came to bear her company. ii alexandria two years had passed. from her capital, whither she had returned crushed by the disaster of the ides of march, cleopatra was still watching the civil war which was destroying the roman world. that violent struggle, which was led alternately by the murderers and the avengers of cæsar, was a series of brutal reverses. the feeling that it roused in her was not merely one of sentiment. grief for the great man who had loved her so passionately, the desire to see his vile assassins punished, were mixed with grave political anxiety. for nearly a century egypt had been impossible to govern. restless, corrupt, sanguinary, it had become a prey to the various pretenders to the throne. to hold it together in any way, to utilize the magnificent resources of its rich soil, to get rid of the bands of pirates, deserters, and outlaws which made up the larger part of its army, required a stronger power than the lagidæ possessed. too indolent to make any exertion, these dilettante sovereigns had formed the habit of appealing to rome for aid whenever a new insurrection broke out. ptolemy the piper, cleopatra's father, had only been able to secure his crown by bribing the roman senators; and as to cleopatra, we know what means she had used to regain her sceptre! if the peace that she had restored seemed desirable, if she had been given credit for the temporary prosperity of the country, there was also much discontent that these things had been accomplished at the price of a scandal, and by an alliance which, at any time, might change the ruling power and put it in foreign hands. feeling herself deserted, surrounded by opposition, by plots, deprived of the troops, which, owing to military reasons, had been removed to other parts, the queen had days of deep depression. she was overwhelmed by her responsibilities, especially when her ministers came with various accounts: of a pest so terrible that the embalmers were unable to care for the bodies of the dead; with sickening tales of the corpses which lined the public highways; again of famine, which for two successive seasons had ravished the land; of the wasteful extravagance of dishonest officials in charge of government affairs; of the difficulties of administration which each and every day brought forth. she was weary and often went back in imagination to the days when the passion of a mighty conqueror had taken all care away, and she had only to wave her ivory sceptre to have any desire fulfilled. what remained to-day of that ancient alliance? it was rome now that stood in need of aid. moreover, she was invoking it, and in the present state of discord each faction was, in turn, begging the support of egypt's fleet. if cleopatra did not respond to this appeal it was because she was uncertain which side would win. to which party would the republic belong to-morrow? if the conspirators who had murdered cæsar were victorious, it was probable that, shorn of power as it was, the kingdom of egypt, together with those of greece, syria, gaul, and spain, as well as mauritania, would become merely colonies of rome. if the other party, that was loyal to cæsar's memory, were the winner, then she could look for the consideration due her. was it not likely that the friends of cæsar, desirous of carrying on the work that he had planned, would guard the interests of the woman whom he had named as his wife? would they not protect the child who bore his image? but who would be the conquerors? cleopatra was tormented with the perpetual question; and the report of cassius' success in macedonia filled her with apprehension. that was in the early autumn. then came winter, with its fogs and storms; navigation was suspended and there was no further news from the battle-fields. the sight of alexandria, filled as that city was for her with memories and with forebodings, plunged her into endless reveries. there the brimming cup of joy had been handed her and she had drunk her fill. often at sunset, when the magic purple light bathed the landscape, she would climb to one of the terraces looking toward the bruchium and gaze upon the façades of shimmering gold. how lovely it was, stretched under the fiery sky, at the edge of the tawny beach; or lighted at night by the giant torches of its watch-towers! how much more beautiful it had grown in the decades since its founder had drawn the first plans and shaped its boundaries, which lay around it like the folds of a military cloak. the queen of such a city might well be proud. in whichever direction she looked were many-coloured marbles, enamelled domes of porcelain, triumphal arches, façades exquisitely carved. on the crest of a small hill stood the pantheon, called in jest the cage of the muses. it was here, according to ancient tradition which the lagidæ held in deepest reverence, that poets, sculptors, musicians, and artists of all nations were accorded a warm welcome, always provided they had excelled in their art and were faithful worshippers of apollo. here, in the middle of the colonnade, stood the famous library--rich, even after the terrible fire, in the possession of seven hundred thousand volumes, and which held, among other precious treasures, the septimus, that first translation of the bible into greek, made by seventy-two learned egyptian jews, under ptolemy philadelphus. not far distant, as though to seek the fountain of spiritual nourishment, clustered the group of temples of serapis. this centre of learning, home of history, philosophy, medicine, and mathematics, as well as guardian of previous manuscripts, was in very truth the light of the world. to-day, after two thousand years, we are indebted to it for the preservation of the life of greek literature. the instruction given there, the names of the savants who taught, the methods employed, the accuracy of the instruments, the very quality of the papyrus furnished the students, all these were so justly famous that wealthy people of all countries, rome, athens, even distant asia, who had some especially gifted son desired to send him there, that he might bear the illustrious seal of having been a student at alexandria. across the distance, to the wide avenues where chariots, litters, cavalcades were thronging the broad streets, cleopatra was still gazing. she saw the circuses, the theatres; the gymnasium, with the crowd at its doors, reading the announcements; the stadium, with its circling race-course; she looked at the gigantic hippodrome, which twenty thousand spectators could barely fill; at the widely scattered temples which over-topped the houses, dominating the other buildings by their mysterious grandeur, and farther on, she saw, with a thrill of awe, the soma, that mausoleum where, in a crystal sarcophagus, rested the repatriated body of her heroic ancestor. of these precious stones, of all this magnificence, the queen reckoned the worth, and with a fearful pride asked herself: "will all this be mine to-morrow?" her mind revelled in the vastness of her heritage; she regarded the inexhaustible valley, watered by the divine river; she thought of the thirty thousand towns which from north to south reared their noble ramparts; of bubastos, where the goddess of love reigned; of memphis, sleeping at the base of her pyramids; of thebes, the holy city; of hermonthis, called the glory of two heavens; of edfu, rich in antique treasures. farther on, she saw, in imagination, those southern regions which produce granite and spices; the legendary vineyards, where each cluster of grapes was so heavy that two men were needed to carry it to the wine-press. she went back to that enchanted island whose perfumed paths bore the traces of her footsteps, near to those of her lover. her old-time confidence returned and she cried: "no, my egypt! sacred land of osiris and of ra, you who fill the granaries of the earth and reverently protect your dead! garden of palms and of vines! shore where the holy ibis seeks cooling drink, never shall you be a slave!" and cleopatra was right. success was in sight. a decisive victory had just been gained by cæsar's avengers. pirates, escaped from naxos, had brought the good tidings. brutus, then cassius, had been defeated in the plains of philippi, and each had taken his life with the blade which their treacherous hands had plunged in the blood of their benefactor; thus was justice done. cleopatra took fresh courage. new light came into her life, overshadowed since that fatal morning in march. although still wrapped in mist, the future was no longer an opaque and indistinguishable mass of blackness. a certain harmony prevailed between it and the past. rome emerged from the gloom. freed from the conspirators, she might once more become a valuable ally. meanwhile, the queen, faithful to the tradition of her ancestors, who had squandered fortunes in amusing the populace, ordered elaborate entertainments, beginning with religious ceremonies, accompanied by sacrifices. was it not fitting to give thank-offerings to the gods who had just punished the hateful perpetrators of that deadly crime? the people of alexandria welcomed every opportunity for a festival. if their city was famous for its university, for the learned men who came there daily to give lectures, it was also a centre of dissipation; rich in every variety of entertainment, vibrating with the sheer joy of living. the enormous fortunes which were made there had produced unlimited luxury. for gaiety of all kinds, banquets, dances, races, theatres, orgies of love and wine, it was without a rival. the fame of the alexandrian festivals was far-spread. wherever they were announced, at bubastos, or at pelusium, along the syrian or cilician coasts, eager throngs came to mingle with the populace. from day-break, along the broad promenades of the modern quarters, as well as in the overgrown alleys of the old rhakotis, there were swarms of noisy people. the many-coloured costumes, the variety of complexions, dark and fair, olive and amber, indicated the hurly-burly of the cosmopolitan town. the active life of its harbour, filled with all sorts of beauty and splendour, from the pillars of hercules to the entrance of the indus; the various spectacles, the museums, the fabulous nile, where flower-laden barges went up and down day and night; the primitive debauchery, to which greek culture had added every possible refinement, all these whetted curiosity and made the diversions of the metropolis inexhaustible. on one hand a high-shouldered native, his loins girded with bright-coloured cloths, led an ass laden with leathern bottles; another was driving a wheat-cart; there, a sunburned, withered sailor dragged his net; yonder soldiers marched, whose imposing appearance attracted the crowd. men from all countries and of all races were gathered together there. greeks predominated, recognizable, under their palliums, by their athletic suppleness; there were romans with their bronze masks, and gauls, whose blue eyes and close-fitting woollen tunics contrasted strangely with the heavy lidded asiatics, whose flowing, embroidered robes swept the dust. the different nationalities of the women were even more conspicuous, owing to their curious coiffures; some wore the hair loose, others made it into curls on either side of their cheeks; and still others, as the girls from ephesus, fastened it with golden pins, intertwined with flowers and leaves. vast numbers of nomads, usually restricted to the suburbs, added to the throngs in the streets, for the police were ordered to be tolerant on the fête days. save on the royal way, which was reserved exclusively for the official cortèges, arabs were allowed to wander at will, leading, by a cord passed through a nose-ring, one or more camels, whose air of indescribable dignity dominated the crowd. there were jews, who carried bags of money hidden in their shabby, black caftans; ethiopians and kaffirs, with baskets of figs and citrons balanced on their crimped heads. mingling in this mob, strolling about in couples, were lazy little working-girls, attracted by the clap-trap inducements of fortune-tellers, watching the acrobats who, standing on their heads, swallowed swords; or pausing to gaze at the light and wiry jugglers leaping in and out of the encircling flames. there were loafers everywhere, seeking amusement; children in danger of being crushed by the crowd; even ladies of rank, who, diverted by the street-shows, had left their litters, and were closely followed by their slaves to protect them from being jostled. but everyone had to contend with the general disorder and each was in danger of being hustled or even beaten down. theocritus has left us a vivid sketch describing a scene at one of these popular festivals between two young women from syracuse. one of them, gorga, is visiting her friend. she arrives all out of breath. "o praxinoa! give me a chair, quick! put a cushion in it. how my heart is thumping! i thought i never should find you. you live so far away, and what a crowd there is to get through!" praxinoa listened while she finished dressing. her maid, eunoe, brought her water, soap, and the key of her big chest. she took out a hat and dress and added the last touches to her costume. gorga: "how becoming the long, plaited effect of that dress is! was it very expensive?" praxinoa: "ah! don't speak of it! it cost more than two mines of pure silver, to say nothing of the time it took to make it up." after some grumbling about their husbands, and instructions to the phrygian attendant to look after the baby and to keep the dog shut up, the two women leave the house. as soon as the door is closed praxinoa cried: "ye gods, what a rabble! what shall we do? how can we walk? and here come the soldiers! look at the cavalry! nothing frightens me so much as horses. gorga! look at that chestnut mare kicking!" gorga: "never mind, it's going back in line now!" they push ahead through the surging crowd. but the sensitive praxinoa is all confused. "give me your hand," she calls to gorga. "and eunoe, you hold on to eutyclus. let us keep close together lest we lose each other." in spite of these precautions they were soon forced apart by the mob. "how unlucky i am!" exclaimed praxinoa; her pretty plaited dress had been trodden under foot by a passing man. she called angrily after him: "by jupiter, be careful if you don't want me to...." but the offender was a gallant man. instead of being rude he apologized and helped praxinoa to arrange her disordered gown. "take courage, lady, you are out of danger now!" praxinoa thanked him, with the gratitude of a person who has just been rescued: "kindly stranger, how can i express my appreciation of your help and protection?" just here she caught sight of gorga, and the two friends fell into each other's arms. "i have been looking everywhere for you, gorga!" "and i for you, praxinoa!" they proceeded to discuss their mishaps. praxinoa: "see, my dress is all torn!" gorga: "so is my cloak. what will my husband say?" arm in arm they walked along the road to the edge of the bruchium where the banquet is being prepared. "is it much farther?" they demanded of an old woman. "alas, yes, my children!" "at least it will be an easy matter to get in?" the old woman, who knew her homer, teased them: "'with strenuous efforts the greeks entered troy.' if you take enough trouble, my fair maids, you may reach your goal!" * * * there was a sudden flourish of trumpets. it was the signal for the procession to start. it filed by, solemn, unending, with the musicians at its head, half-naked cymbal players clanging their shining disks; cithern players, who sounded rings strung on metal threads; men, striking with sycamore sticks the wild asses' skins stretched over round drums hanging from their necks. at a certain distance, intended to indicate the difference between them and what was merely human, the cortège of priests appeared. the trumpet players had already commanded silence and with reverent interest the spectators gazed at the horoscope casters, who could reveal the future; the hieroglyphic readers; prophets with long beards, who burned incense in little brass boxes; priests, whose duty it was to offer to faithful worshippers the images of the gods. raising their gilded staffs, some would balance the standards by their painted ends; others, accompanied them in chariots; amid the general exultation, and before the staring eyes of the crowd, filed the mysterious figures of apis, hathor, the bull; of the grimacing toth, of horus, in his sparrow-hawk mask, of anubis, the god of death, all expressing unknown power. there were great shoutings and cries as these images passed, for all believed in the might of this blind matter, all believed in its power of conferring an infinite degree of strength on the suppliant. between two rows of soldiers the high priest at last was seen advancing. he was a very old man and leaned on a cane. a long, hyacinth-coloured veil covered his hands and his face, which no profane glance was allowed to desecrate. he alone was admitted to private conference with the god, who presently, through his mouth, would reveal the oracle. after him came the priestesses, young, pure, dressed entirely in white, their pointed fingers balancing the stems of lotus-flowers. then followed the conjurers, with their quivering torches; the bell ringers; the bird catchers, who, on their batons daubed with glue, held the sacred fowls. then came the beggars, exposing their infirmities; the vendors of sacred images, of scarabs, of amulets; the inevitable commercial tail that always drags behind wherever man raises up a god to be adored. and all this tide of incongruous beings, this turbulent collection of races, of passions, of divers interests, advanced in order, marching with even step toward the fascinating goal, which yonder against the azure sky, resplendent and sacred, called to them all alike to come: the temple of serapis. built on the model of the old temples of the gods, this sanctuary, uniting all forms of worship, was the most noted in egypt. the princely sums with which it was endowed served continually to augment its power, and only the most famous monuments of the roman capitol could compare with its mighty structure. one hundred steps led up to the entrance. its portal was guarded by a line of sphinxes of imposing majesty; and along its sides, from arches of yellow and vermilion, light streamers floated in the wind. as they approached the entrance the students of the different colleges took their places along the portico, according to their rank. some stood in the empty spaces between the rows of columns and, thus, little by little, the building was filled, peopled with human forms which, in their immobility, resembled groups of statues. suddenly there was a commotion. everyone turned toward a light which shone above the crowd. a herald announced "the queen!" magnificent, surrounded by a glittering guard, on her way, one would have said, to a heavenly kingdom, cleopatra appeared, borne on a shield. seeing her thus, so innocent, in a sheath of silver which encircled her as though she were a graven image, with her knees bent, her elbows close to her sides, her eyes raised to the sky, it was not possible to believe the evil tales about her. she was no longer the woman, but the august daughter of kings; a priestess, who, in another moment, would be in the presence of a god. four slaves waved immense fans of peacocks' feathers above her head, and at her feet, like a cushion, a panther lay. while the temple slaves attended to the slaughter of the victims, whose warm entrails were smoking on the slope, a young poet-singer, his zither hanging from his shoulder, advanced and, after bowing to the multitude, began chanting the praises of the queen. "_thy hair is like a sweet-smelling plant. thy hands are the palms of love. thy brow is like a moon coming out from behind a cloud. thine eyes, with their shining lashes, are two summer butterflies. thy teeth have the brilliancy of a stream, running between two banks bordered with roses and peonies._" and after each verse, a chorus of virgins would take up the refrain: "_hail to thee, o resplendent daughter of amoun-ra!_" the moment for the burnt-offerings had come. erect now, her shoulders covered with the mantle of isis, white as wheat, followed by the priests and the chief dignitaries, cleopatra stepped over the sill of the temple, and the enormous door, behind which crouched the terrifying watch-dog of granite, with his triple head of wolf, jackal, and lion, was closed. in the farthest corner, behind great columns, covered with hieroglyphics explaining the destiny of the human soul, stood a serapis of marble and of gold. ruling deity in whom was combined the antique kronos, together with the zeus of the greeks and the jupiter of the latins, serapis was the national god. he was believed to be omnipotent. it was to him that the egyptians looked for glory, health, and riches; from him came their faith in the mighty powers of the waters of the nile. his figure was three times the height of man and serene majesty was written on his features. his beard spread over his knees, abundant and shining; the seal of kings was on his forehead; his hands were extended with a gesture that seemed to embrace the whole world. by a skilful arrangement the light, coming in from above, fell on his enamelled lips, and this single ray produced the effect of a kiss from heaven, and gave his worshippers the illusion that he was speaking. before this colossal statue the sacrificial table was spread. the signs of the zodiac were engraved on its huge circumference. in the centre was burning oil, and side by side with the blood of the victims were precious vases holding wine and wheat, the water of the nile, and the seven perfumes most agreeable to the god. while the high priest inclined toward the flame, pouring out the offerings that the fire might devour them, the queen prostrated herself before the altar. she pleaded, she implored: "o mighty god, all-powerful god, whom the winds obey, be favourable to my prayers. liberate thy healing waters, let their abundance flow over egypt and make her fertile. let no sedition breed in her cities, nor alien enemy come to destroy her troops. may her people be loyal to her and protect her with foot-soldiers armed with arrows, and with horsemen in shining armour." absorbed in the mysterious rites in the temple, all hearts were beating furiously. it was the moment when the omens would become visible; and, as though a single soul, a single voice, the multitude united in the prayer of its sovereign. moved by an unconquerable faith she repeated the words of supplication: "o mighty god, god whom the winds obey, liberate the still waters.'" the smoke cleared away, the cedar doors of the temple reopened, and the queen reappeared. she was very pale. under her sparkling necklaces her bosom was heaving. her large eyes were gazing far off, beyond earthly things, into that region of prophecy whither her prayer had ascended. what had she seen there? what had she heard? what communication from the oracle did the high priest have to bring? three blasts of the trumpet announced that the queen was about to speak. she came to the edge of the first step, and her voice, sweet as a flute, pronounced these words: "may the name of serapis be praised! his mercy is upon us. he promises glory and prosperity to egypt. on your seed the nile will spread her blessed waters and will make your wheat to swell!" a tremendous clamour arose. from the thousands of throats it swelled like the roar of a hurricane. with enthusiasm, with an almost insane gratitude, as though the miracle had already taken place, thanks began to pour forth. with a gesture like that of neptune when he bids the floods be still, the queen commanded silence. she had not yet finished speaking. "the goodness of serapis," she said, "surpasses our hopes. he loves egypt; he wishes for it greatness and prosperity. from him will come a warrior whose sword cannot know defeat." a new burst of enthusiasm arose, which this time nothing could suppress. it was a general delirium, a reaching out toward joy, toward that great unknown happiness which the mass as well as the individual expects from the future. the shield was again lowered. the queen climbed up lightly, barely touching the three ivory steps of the wooden stool, then, with the fans waving above her head, the panther crouching at her feet, she took again the road leading to the palace. shouts, flowers, and palms greeted her on every side, but she did not seem to see any of these things. lost in a world of thought, she was dreaming her own dreams. however skeptical she might have felt, she had been impressed by the words of the high priest. would a warrior really come? and if he did, who would he be? a name came to her mind. with curious persistence, past memories began to fill her fancy. some details, almost forgotten, came back to her. one evening, nearly three years before, in the villa on the banks of the tiber; the conversation between cæsar and trebonius had grown dull. the question had come up as to whether the committees would meet again or be abolished from the concourse. suddenly the door was flung open and mark antony entered. it was a new life that came in. he was laughing; his hair fell over his forehead; his shoulders, cut like those of his ancestor, hercules, were strong enough to carry the nemean lion. his presence impregnated the atmosphere of the room with youth, with warm, glowing exuberance, and straightway cleopatra had felt his covetous eyes fall on her, with that look which a woman always understands. how often since that first evening she had felt that same look, that frank admission on the part of the man that he was no longer master of himself. and another evening, when they had been left alone for a moment, she had felt the warm touch of his lips on her shoulder. her surprise and embarrassment had been so great that, wishing to conceal them, she had sought refuge in flight. since then he had been more reserved; but if he did not speak, if his manner were constrained, it was because his loyalty to cæsar had put a seal upon his lips. how would he have dared do otherwise? and cleopatra, though fully aware of his feeling, how would she have received an avowal of his love? undoubtedly cæsar's exalted position restrained his inferior officer, who owed everything to him, from trespassing on forbidden ground; just as it prevented cleopatra from yielding to any passing fancy. however tempting the athletic beauty of mark antony, glory was her chief ambition. she would let nothing stand in the way of that. but to-day death had changed everything. mark antony stood in cæsar's place; he had no master for a rival. could it be that he was the saviour whom the god had promised? weary of her widowhood, a flood of hope, at this thought, swept over her heart. she wanted to be alone to give herself up to these dreams. the sun had just set, and a crescent of silver was visible in the evening sky. one by one the high lamps, planted like trees along the avenues, shone out. delicate, rose-coloured illuminations began to sparkle along the edges of the houses, where they hung like fruit among the thin branches of the plane trees. if the festivals of the daylight had been rich and attractive, the evening decorations satisfied the sensuous taste. the queen had given orders that no expense be spared to give general pleasure. the fountains at the palace doors ran red with wine, and on the long tables in the inner courts, which led from the stables to the kitchen, meats, pastries, and cheese were served to the public. order was carefully preserved and, after getting their portions, the people were compelled to move on. many went to the theatres, where free performances were given; others preferred to linger by the street-shows, watching the farces; others wound up the evening's entertainment in some of the notorious resorts of the rhakotis. while the common people amused themselves thus, herded together in an atmosphere of dust and sweat, the rich people, to whom every day was a holiday, entertained themselves in a less vulgar manner. many, at the hour of supper, left the crowded part of the city to linger along the aristocratic avenues on the west side of the great capital, which seemed half asleep among their silent gardens. a group of perfumed dandies stopped before a dwelling, small, but of charming proportions, surrounded by pine trees. a slave came out to open the gate. crossing the vestibule, where a fountain was playing, they were introduced into a hall lined from floor to ceiling by thousands of rolls of papyrus. it was the library where polydemus, who had made a fortune in perfumes, delighted to receive his guests. those whom he had invited this evening belonged to various circles of society; for it was his pleasure that in his home all subjects should be discussed and all the topics of the day be passed upon freely. except in art, where he had a preference for the greek style, he was liberal-minded, and so unprejudiced that he did not hesitate to bring together men of opposing views. consequently he numbered among his guests apollodorus, the secretary of the queen, whose devotion to her was well known; demetrius, the lieutenant, who had fought him under achillas; sati, a theban of ancient family, who was wedded to the old traditions and objected to all foreign influence; rhetoricians, noted for their athenian culture; financiers and artists; philosophers, as little likely to hold the same views on any one subject as are men of political bent. behind drawn curtains the hall was brilliantly lighted. between the delicate columns, busts of homer, pindar, zeno, and epicurus rested on bronze pedestals; and, alternating with them, as though to thank these great men for their indulgence, stood graceful statues of women. the guests reclined on couches, placed around a table which was adorned with silver and painted pottery. in the middle stood an alabaster bowl, surrounded by branches of rose-bushes, some of which, as though too heavy to bear their own weight, fell in garlands on the snow-white table-cover. as soon as the banqueters were comfortably settled the first course was served. eels from lake mareotis, just outside alexandria, covered with a sauce flavoured with caraway seed; congers, fried in butter; roe, in tiny casseroles. then began the general conversation, trivial at first, turning on the happenings of the day. one guest commented on the passing processions, which had never been better managed; another on the sumptuous banquets which were being served at the bruchium; this one praised the marvellous circus, where two hundred beasts and twenty gladiators had been slaughtered; that one called the attention of the guests to the wonderful illuminations which, seen through the open windows, were reddening the skies above the city. apollodorus took advantage of these various comments to dwell upon the gracious generosity of the queen, who was always eager to afford happiness to her people. "hail to cleopatra!" responded the artists, who were being entertained in the halls of the paneum. "hail to the beloved of the gods!" "glory to her who is a delight to our eyes!" "drink to her who brings light to our minds!" but, as always, this very praise aroused controversy. if the young queen had passionate admirers, especially among the younger men who, impressed by her beauty and intelligence, were led to expect great things, there were others, grave and sedate men, who were shocked by her audacity. from the time of her liaison with cæsar they had criticized her lack of dignity. there were even suspicions in regard to the recent death of her young brother, and hostile queries as to what part she might have had in it. this evening the wanton extravagance of the present fêtes came under discussion, and the air was full of unfriendly criticism. it was no time to spend money recklessly when a severe famine was devastating the land. some, who had noticed certain affectations of taste and manner, which cleopatra had shown since her return from italy, were here, in their condemnation of her. that very day, disdainful of the old ceremony with the pschent, surmounted by the sacred uræus, a ceremony at which kings and queens from time immemorial had covered their hair with the ancient headdress, cleopatra had substituted a diadem! and on that ornament, which concealed her temples and forehead, the respecters of the old egyptian tradition had been horrified to see the image of minerva instead of that of isis, worn by her who was supposed to be the priestess of isis. sati deplored these conditions. "it is the first time that a sovereign of ours has treated an ancient custom with contempt!" when the sculptor nicias remarked that this diadem, which revealed the nape of her neck, was most becoming to her delicate profile, the venerable theban rebuked him: "so far from favouring them the queen should be the first to discourage these foreign fashions." this objection was not surprising from a man who still wore the old national tunic, held in place by a belt with floating ends, and whose curled beard reached nearly to his waist. apollodorus observed smilingly that it seemed scarcely worth while to lay so much stress on the matter of a coiffure. the subject, unluckily, was not so trivial as the devoted secretary wished to represent. he was not unaware of the state of things, and in these criticisms he saw plainly the attitude of those who, having suffered from the effects of the roman invasion, were all too ready to reproach the queen for having brought it about. he desired in every way to lay stress on her loyalty to her people. unfortunately, the former lieutenant of achillas chose that moment to recall all that the invasion had cost egypt: two years of war, the destruction of the fleet, a great part of their priceless library wiped out by fire. the latter memory was particularly painful to the thoughtful men, for they loved books and naturally deplored the irreparable loss of their country's treasures. was this splendid banquet to turn to vinegar in their mouths? as though pricked by a spur polydemus turned the talk to other subjects. pointing to the satinwood shelves, where lay thousands of rolls of papyrus, he announced that he was leaving them in his will to the city of alexandria, and that there were many rare copies among them of which he was the sole possessor, and that these would replace the specimens which had been so unfortunately destroyed by fire. this generous gift was warmly appreciated. the friends of this good citizen congratulated him on his public spirit, and unanimously expressed the hope that the promised legacy would not come to them for many years. the second course of the banquet was now served. a huge copper basin was brought in, containing a whole sheep, whose flesh was still crackling; then come a platter, embellished with various dressings, on which was a giant goose still decked in his coat of feathers, whose stomach was stuffed with snipe. these delicacies were carved in the twinkling of an eye, the guests who were nearest the host being served first. they used silver spatula and chiselled spoons. the light from the flaring torches made the table shine like gold. the perfume of the roses was so strong that the food seemed flavoured with it. for a few moments the guests were absorbed in the consumption of the epicurean delicacies and silence reigned. there was no sound save the flitting steps of the slaves as they passed to and fro. suddenly one of the slaves announced that a vessel had just entered the harbour, with an important messenger on board. just what his errand was no one as yet knew, in fact, nothing would be known until the next day. there were, however, grave rumours, and serious happenings were said to be going on at rome. a shiver ran around the table. the egyptians, always suspicious concerning rome and her schemes, already felt the entangling meshes of the net which perhaps in another twenty-four hours would hold them captives. what might this news be? what horrors, what scandals, were yet in store? for the past two years the forum had been nothing more than a nest of bandits, and the echo of its evil brawls was constantly in their ears. polydemus, anxious that there should be no second disturbance at his supper, expressed the hope that with the triumph of the cæsarian party an era of peace and order would be established. but there was an outcry from his guests. what order, what justice could be expected from people who, although fighting for the same cause, had never ceased to destroy each other? no one referred to lepidus; his very mediocrity protected him from criticism. but what of antony? of octavius? which of these was the greater villain? in the hubbub of noisy speeches each gave himself up to reciting the various sensational acts which witnesses, or writers, had handed on to him. "while performing his sacred duties a priest was told he was to be banished and sought refuge," said eudoxos. "too late! before he could cross the sill of the tribunal, a centurion stabbed him." lycon declared that mothers, to save themselves, shut their doors against their own sons who were suspected of treason; that daughters did not hesitate to tell where their fathers were concealed. even little children, according to another, were no longer safe. one child, on its way to school, had been seized by an executioner and slaughtered before the eyes of its parents. "remember, above all else, the brutal assassination of cicero," cried the rhetorician, antipus, who had made a journey to rome expressly to hear the voice of that great orator. "that was an unpardonable crime," agreed one of his colleagues, "and it will leave a lasting stain on the name of mark antony!" apollodorus, who the moment before had been praising the latter, in order to protect the queen, now tried to throw the odium of this assassination on octavius. he was chiefly to blame; the friend of cicero, he, like a white-livered coward, and without a single qualm, had given cicero into the hands of the murderers. he whom, only a few days before, cicero had pressed to his heart and called his son! a shiver of disgust ran around the table as though a serpent had appeared in the room. again the talk turned on mark antony. in spite of his misdoings, he at least, with the coarse tunic that he put on when he went to drink with the soldiers and the women of the town, with his sword slung over his shoulder and his chariot drawn by lions, accompanied by the courtesan cytheris, was amusing. a voice was even heard praising him, for a brave man will always find someone to stand up for him. the philosopher, lycon, though a professed cynic, recalled that at the moment when the conspirators were still waving their swords, when octavius was in hiding, and when terror prevailed throughout rome, mark antony had had the courage to insist on a proper funeral for cæsar and had stood before the body of his benefactor and fearlessly proclaimed his virtues. but this praise aroused little enthusiasm. the group of distinguished men of letters had no interest in a boor like antony whose valour was simply that of the battle-field. the diatribe that the sculptor nicias hurled against the romans met the popular sentiment. if the invasion of these barbarians continued, what would become of the present civilization? he had just come from corinth and knew that many of the splendid buildings had already been destroyed. greece was a mass of ruins. what was to be expected if these things continued? the supper was over at last. the creams and pastries gave forth a delicious odour of wild honey. the citrons were all the more refreshing after the highly spiced dishes of the repast. the rare wines had increased in exquisite bouquet with each course. after the cider and mead, the delicate, violet-flavoured wines of phoenicia were served, then the warm liqueurs of spain. there were also the celebrated gallic wines, clear and sparkling, well calculated to drive away all manner of depression. the conversation turned on women. it was not usual for them to be absent from the banquets at polydemus's house; but this evening, those that he had invited, chiefly celebrated courtesans, for he was unmarried, had had engagements elsewhere. the younger men, who were devoted to horse-racing, had taken faustina and leah to the stadium to see their horses run. chloris could not leave naudres, that noted actor, on the evening when, shod with buskins and with trumpet-like voice, he played his famous role of orestes; a banquet at gauthene's had attracted moussana and trophena, for they knew that the two sons of the banker rupin would be there as well as the heir of the richest ship-owner of ephesus. a number had preferred to keep their evening free that they might stroll along the heptastadium, for a night such as this afforded every chance of meeting open-handed gallants. the older men agreed that a supper was fully as agreeable without women, and sati declared that their presence was often a drawback to interesting conversation. "is that on account of their modesty?" inquired lycias, who loved his joke. "they cannot talk of anything but love," sighed the banker in a bored tone. the poet, melanis, who up to then had said nothing, raised his voice in protest. "even though the hour and place were not especially consecrated to love, was it not permissible to evoke its charming images?" he demanded. "for my part," declared the lieutenant, "i don't think there's any sense in discussing such things." just at that moment, the cup-bearer appeared, bringing, with great care, an amphora. it contained a marvellous cyprian wine, one of those rare vintages which the lips approach with reverence. many of the men declared that nothing so delicious had ever tickled their palates. "o wine! golden fountain that reflects the sun! flagon that the generous gods have spilled on the earth to rejoice the hearts of men!" exclaimed the young melanis, in a burst of improvisation. taking advantage of the general good humour that the wine had created, apollodorus reminded the company that if cyprus were once more a province of egypt, and if its wines came into alexandria free of duty, it was to cleopatra that they owed the credit. "that is very true," said polydemus. "the restoration of this province was really a gift from cæsar to the queen." this reference to the wine produced a spirit of good-will, and those who had been criticizing cleopatra most severely now raised their glasses in her honour, and the master of the house was pleased to see the supper, which angry arguments had several times threatened to spoil, end in good humour. about eleven o'clock the slaves withdrew and the dancers, with attendant musicians, appeared under the peristyle. they were twelve young girls of pure egyptian descent, whose type is still preserved and known to us to-day as the gypsy. at the sound of the five-stringed lyre their lithe bodies began to sway. the figures that they formed, first approaching, then retreating, turning to join hands and then withdraw again, were not so much a dance, as a game between nymphs and their pursuing satyrs. this first movement was soon succeeded by livelier frolics. tambourines and castanets resounded. the legs of the dancers, which until then had only bent and moved gracefully, had an irresistible impetus. at the same moment black eyes shot lightning glances from under blue-white lids; there was a wave of sound, heels clicked, and rings clanged together. a whirl of bare flesh was visible through the slit tunics, bent-over backs straightened up, arms, interlaced like branches, unwound themselves abruptly. now delightfully voluptuous, now urged on by the wild music, the dancing continued far into the night. the older men, stupefied by the heavy meal and the abundant flow of wine, soon grew drowsy; but the younger ones, who had been somewhat bored during the long-drawn-out repast, were now waked to feverish excitement. with a kind of intoxication they followed the women's gestures, which seemed to parody love before their eyes, making it waver, come forward, then, in a flash, rise and triumph in an ecstatic embrace. the roses were fading in the alabaster vases. the torches, one by one, flickered and went out the pale dawn was creeping through the parted curtains, as the banqueters took leave of their gracious host, expressing appreciation of his kindly hospitality. apollodorus, whose duties at the bruchium began very early, had no time to return to his own home, which was far out on the road toward sais. there was a chance, however, for him to walk off the last fumes of the cyprian wine. the city was deserted. silence reigned, but the flagstones seemed still vibrating from the tread of countless feet. here and there lay withered garlands, side by side with various lost objects, bits of draggled silk and other débris, which had been part of the evening's vanities. the abandoned halls, these cast-off trifles, brought a certain sadness to apollodorus as he recalled the discussions at polydemus's table. they were rebellious, dissatisfied, hard to control, these subjects of cleopatra, and how evident was the feeling of enmity against her. there were parties ready at any moment to band together and bring about one of those revolutions which her ancestors had ceaselessly combated; and what countless traps had already been set for her! he remembered the day when he sailed in a fishing boat to seek her on the beach at canopus. but then a mighty power sheltered her, worked for her. to-day, alone, criticized on every side, opposed, would she have sufficient strength? his mind filled with these misgivings, apollodorus found himself at the door of the palace. in the misty morning light, the delicate architecture, with its multitude of supporting columns, seemed almost aerial. he was astounded to see the queen standing on one of the terraces. her hair was loosened and her scarf was waving in the breeze. he learned that just as her women were preparing her for bed a courier had arrived and she had had a long conference with him. at its close she had shown keen delight. "there are times when life is too beautiful to lose any moment of it in sleep," she had said when her attendants had begged her to rest for a while. left alone, she had unrolled the script which confirmed the message that had just come to her. the tidings recorded were so many and so unexpected that she was compelled to go over them two or three times, and then to repeat them to herself. this much, at least, was true: reconciled by their victory, the avengers of cæsar had formed a new triumvirate. the world was in their hands. they had divided it, or rather, mark antony, the only champion to fight and conquer octavius (who, ill and quaking in his tent, had awaited him with chattering teeth) had divided it, according to his own liking. he gave the control of barbarous gaul and a part of italy, ruined and still racked by threats of revolution, to his wretched associate; lepidus, who had not even taken any part in the war, had spain (which was always on the eye of insurrection) and the african provinces assigned to him; and mark antony, supreme arbitrator and the worshipped leader of thirty-two legions, the hero before whom all knees were bent, claimed for his share of the spoils the mighty orient, always desired, always coveted on account of its riches. so, the words of the god had not been in vain. the sacred promise had been fully carried out. she, cleopatra, would have an ally as powerful as cæsar and one whom she would have chosen above all others. as things now stood all lay within her grasp. the past had taught her that a woman like herself could make of such a man, of such a great man, whatever she desired. was not this the moment to put her experience to the test, to try with another that fortune which before had played her false? the flood of hope rose quickly. it came from the depths of her being, like a magic stream, washing away her grief in a single wave. the future, full of beautiful vistas, spread out before her. the walls of her room seemed to cramp her vision and she went out on the terrace. night was almost gone. a mist of silver floated between the sea and sky. a sudden light gleamed through the haze, the horizon was transfused with rose-coloured clouds, and through the limpid light shot the gold and scarlet rays of the rising sun. iii mark antony in the accounts written by the admirers of cæsar augustus, mark antony is depicted as a combination of all the vices. his adversaries undoubtedly had good grounds for denouncing a man whose name reeked of scandals and whose passions had driven him to fight against his own country. it is easy to see how conservative men would have taken exception to his free ways, his bragging, his notorious wine-drinking, his extravagant habits; his gold plates carried, along with his mistresses, his mimes, and buffoons, into his very camps during the wars; the lions that were harnessed to his chariot, all the eccentricities which had caused him to be described as "an overgrown child who might have conquered the world and who did not know how to deny himself the least pleasure." on the other hand, what charming characteristics he had, which they ignored! without these delightful qualities, this foundation, so to say, which shone through the deceptive masquerade, how can we understand the continuous, irresistible attraction which he possessed for everyone who came in contact with him? people attract, not by the virtues that they strive for, but by their own natural charm. mark antony was blessed with this magnetism. superb in face and figure, a nobleman full of enthusiasm, whose gay spirits were contagious, brutal perhaps, at times, but never malicious, he possessed all the gifts to make life a thing of joy for himself and for those about him. he was noted for his generosity and his friends knew that they could appeal to it and did not hesitate to do so. on one occasion, curion, a man of gay life like himself, being in sudden need of money to pay a gambling debt, came to him early one morning before he had finished dressing. antony was in exactly the same predicament, having lost his last penny at the gaming table the night before. the two friends were dismayed. what could be done? they were out in the country at some distance from rome and the need was pressing. how could they procure the necessary funds? antony looked about him. the furnishings, the weapons, the skins of wild beasts, nothing had any money value. suddenly his eyes lighted on a gold basin filled with water for his morning toilet. with a quick movement he emptied it. "there," he said, "take that. the goldsmith will certainly give you two talents for it."* *note: in plutarch's "life of antony" a like incident is related of antony's father. though he spent money recklessly, he never used evil means to get it. even cicero, his mortal enemy, who brought many charges against him, did him the justice to say: "no one can accuse mark antony of dishonesty in money matters, of selfishness, or of any meanness of that kind." in spite of his lax morals and of his deplorable habit of hard drinking, antony was not lacking in nobility. it was his enemy, seneca, who recognized this and described him: _magnum virum ingenii nobilis_. and what finer keynote to his character as a man could be found than his loyal submission to his chief, whose glory he never coveted? as long as cæsar lived, his young comrade-in-arms recognized that his own place was in the second rank. he never had any idea of usurping cæsar's power, and aspired to his place only when he had octavius for a rival. it was chiefly on the battle-field that his real character was shown. patient, steady, imperturbable, a model both of endurance and of submission to discipline, antony won universal admiration. his soldiers, who had seen him in dangerous crises, would have followed him to the ends of the earth. they looked on him as a god. a man of antony's temperament naturally had violent reactions. the more he had been restrained, the more he demanded when he was free. during the heroic retreat from modena he slept on the hard ground, drank stagnant water, lived on roots and herbs; but when it was over, and peace was declared, the high-liver demanded his rights, and the orgies he held were not exceeded by silenus himself. just as moderation is the safe rule for most men, antony thrived on excess. from every fatigue, from every indulgence, he came forth stronger, more keenly alive, invigorated. nature, with all her generous gifts to this grandson of jupiter and semele, had, however, denied him the one thing needful, without which the others were practically useless: mark antony had no commonsense. how could he have made great decisions? his passions were so compelling that he was carried away by them before he had time to reflect. they were irresistible, bearing him on with the force of a hurricane which is appeased only after having devastated all that lies in its path. two elements fought for mastery in his ardent yet weak spirit: ambition and sensuality. each, in turn supreme, carried him to extremes. ambition, pre-eminent in his youth, had inspired those valorous deeds which had made him a leader in the invasions of gaul and sicily, and at the death of cæsar had rendered him all-powerful in subduing the conspirators; between two campaigns it had led him to follow in alexander's path and undertake the conquest of persia. but sensuality was the stronger and conquered him at last. little by little it took possession of its noble prey, binding him, engrossing all his faculties, stifling them, one by one, and at the end throwing him into the abyss of despair. the morning after the battle of philippi, before he had set foot on the soil of that orient which was to be his triumph and his undoing, antony was well balanced. though his senses were exultant, his mind was filled with mighty projects. as he left that wild macedonian country, where victory had been gained only after cruel sacrifices, the memory of whose bitter cold still made him shiver, he dreamed of those sunny southern lands, with their warmth and abundance, which his valour had won. which one should he visit first? each had its own attraction, each shore held some new charm. on the other side of ossa and pelion, whose snow-capped summits shut him in, lay the fascination and culture of greece; beyond that, the coast of asia, crowded with cities, each richer and more famous than the other: smyrna, ephesus, pergamus; then syria, with her palm trees, her gardens filled with luscious fruits; lebanon, the stopping-place of the caravans from the far east, laden with silks and precious stones. then palestine, arid beneath her gray olive trees, but crowned by holy jerusalem, that sacred shrine calling a perpetual pilgrimage of jews from the four corners of the earth; and above all, egypt, egypt fragrant with incense and violets, the kingdom of the incomparable cleopatra! ever since the catastrophe of the ides of march had so abruptly separated them, antony had dreamed of the beautiful queen. often, in the heat of battle, or during the dreary watches in his tent at night, he had conjured up her fair image. sometimes he saw again that indefinable look with which, when quite sure that she was unobserved, the mistress of cæsar had returned his passionate regard. tender and enticing, her glance, which stole toward him from between her long, dark lashes, seemed to demand his adoration. so vivid had been his sensations that at moments he was thrilled by the memory. the unspoken words of those evenings at the transtevera would come back to him and, with the hunger of unsatisfied desire, he went over those scenes again and again. unceasingly he repeated to himself the comforting thought that what had been impossible to him in the lifetime of cæsar, he was no longer barred from taking. cleopatra was free, and he, in his turn, had become one of the pillars of the world, a man whom any woman, even were she a queen, would be proud to call her lord. above all, he had that magic gift of youth, to which all things are possible, and that ever-buoyant hope which, dreaming of the fairest fortune that the future may hold, whispers: "why should not this be mine?" but antony was tormented by one ever-recurring doubt: what did cleopatra really feel in regard to him? she had always been most gracious in her manner, but discreet at all times, careful not to give cæsar the least ground for jealousy. what had she thought of him that day when, alone together for a moment, he had not been able to resist kissing her exquisite bare shoulder? she seemed like a beautiful sphinx, as, without remonstrance, without a smile, she had turned away and silently left the room. was it love of the great cæsar that made her so prudent, or the fear of losing his powerful protection? he had never understood her complex personality; he could not forget her feline grace, and those eyes which had stirred his innermost depths and had left him wondering, as does the mysterious beauty of a night in spring. what had she been doing for the past two years? he was utterly ignorant of her life, of her interests, and he longed to see her once more. antony, however, was not yet entirely in the power of these desires. the duties and responsibilities of his position were the chief factors in his life. he was fully alive to the necessity of visiting the new provinces that had come under his care, of giving them the protection which they had a right to expect from him. what excuse did he have for going first to egypt? it was not, strictly speaking, a roman province and could well afford to wait. besides, it was not a good season for crossing. so antony sailed for greece. it was not his first visit to that noble country. he had already trod the fields of thessaly when, as a young commander, he had opposed pompey. he had seen the wonderful temples of delphi, corinth, olympia, with their wealth of sculpture and incomparable jewels. he had lingered in the forest of eleusis, and in the theatre of epidaurus he had been transported in spirit to the prophetic realms of the art of Æschylus. how thrilling it would be to revisit all these scenes! to come to them, clothed in majesty and with unlimited power! the greeks had become accustomed to foreign rule and no longer hated their conquerors. indeed they had a certain regard for this roman soldier who was said to be as handsome as alcibiades and comparable to themistocles in his warlike virtues. among a people who counted physical strength and beauty as the highest gifts the gods could bestow, this son of hercules had every chance of winning all hearts. he was welcomed graciously according to the custom of the country. the villages sent groups of men, bearing branches by day and torches by night, to escort his litter. as he entered the cities young girls greeted him with showers of roses, and a chorus of young men sang and danced to the music of lyres. these acclamations were accompanied by alternate petitions and songs of praise. wishing to prove how worthy he was of the latter, he showed his characteristic generosity in granting the requests. ten thousand talents were donated to restore the theatre at megara; at thebes and larissa he rebuilt the dwellings which pompey's hordes had burned; and at corinth he restored the ancient temple devoted to the worship of venus pandenus. while thus scattering gold broadcast he quickened his march over the slopes of hymettus, for beyond them lay athens, and he was eager to hear her honey-sweet praises. although badly damaged by sulla's troops, pillaged by the greedy government which had succeeded him, poverty-stricken as she now was, and inconvenient as her narrow streets, small houses, and irregular squares had always made her, the city of pericles kept her old charm. the magic light, which at sunrise and sunset illuminated the rose-coloured sides of the pentelicus, would alone have made her worthy of adoration; and the birthplace of phidias still possessed nearly all his wonderful creations. the monuments of the acropolis were undisturbed; no profane hand had touched the pure glory of the parthenon; the poecile still held her brilliantly coloured decorations, fresh as the day they were completed, and the five doors of the propylea were yet open to the blue sky. antony was not artistic by nature, and his career as a soldier had, naturally, not developed any love of art; yet he was not insensible to the charm of beautiful things. rome had many rich sculptures, and he had grown up among them; and the greek education which, in common with most patrician youths, he had received had made him familiar with the works of homer and the wisdom of plato. he therefore approached the bridge of ilisos in a spirit of reverence. athens was not only a venerated sanctuary with the glory of four centuries behind her, who had given the world a radiance of wisdom and culture which had never been equalled; she was still a centre of life and prosperity. her colleges, though fewer and not so richly endowed as the schools of alexandria, kept their ancient standards of excellence. although not the equals of those of the old days, philosophers, poets, and artists still gathered there, together with fencers, horsemen, athletes, disk and javelin throwers; all youths who were faithful to the tradition of keeping a sound mind in a healthy body. educated in the ideals of that republican past which had made their country great, these young men were full of fire and enthusiasm. a generous instinct gave them a natural sympathy for high aims, for all that recalled the heroes of their native land. on hearing of the death of cato, they covered their heads with ashes; at the call of brutus the elite of the country had perished at philippi; and to-day mark antony, as opposed to octavius, represented to them the old liberal spirit of rome. the triumvir was careful not to check this flattering popularity. knowing how these sons of themistocles respected military pomp, he entered athens on horseback, clad in cuirass and helmet, with clashing arms; then, in accordance with the simplicity of the civilian customs, he partook of the unpretentious hospitality that was offered him in the ancient palace of the archons. his customary gold plate, silken togas, and couches were banished; he had a frugal meal prepared and, recalling the example set by cæsar, he put on a woollen cloak and, preceded by a solitary lictor, went on foot up the hill of the acropolis. during his stay at athens he never deviated from this simple manner of living; whether his unlimited power had wrought a sudden change in his views, or breathing the air of greece had made him feel the beauty of moderation, his attitude astonished all those who had known him. his conduct was that of a real chief, and the sentences that he was called upon to pronounce all bore the stamp of balanced judgment. not content with merely edifying the athenians, it was soon apparent that he wished to win them. it was the season for the festival of adonis. he consented to celebrate this with them and ingenuously joined in the rite of the quickly blooming, quickly fading flowers which symbolized the premature death of the son of myrrha. he graciously listened to the elegies recited by the mourning women, who wept for the young god; and to the hymns with which these same women, now crowned with roses, filled the air the following day, in token of his resurrection. he presided over the different competitions held on the pnyx, and, surrounded by a group of distinguished athenians, awarded prizes to those who had won distinction in either athletics or oratory. had antony become a convert to the virtuous life? could such a sudden transformation be genuine? was the former worshipper of venus given over to gaining the affections of the masses? some people who were interested in his future greatness believed this and rejoiced in it. but the real reason for this abrupt change lay in his craving for new sensations. did he want to amuse? did he hope to mystify? not exactly; but the blood which bubbled in his veins was too strong and active to be satisfied with living one life only. by playing many parts this sturdy actor sought the illusion of crowding more into his life. but his real character quickly came out. he suddenly grew weary of these simple pleasures and dull duties. the shores of asia with its gracious fields were within easy reach, and its cities offered every luxury and entertainment. so one fine morning he shook the sacred dust of the acropolis from his buskins, and taking ship, set sail for antioch. this metropolis, at that time the third in importance in the world, seemed, at a distance, to hang from the sides of the coryphean mountains. long before entering the harbour of seleucia, voyagers were astonished to see the gigantic military forts which scaled the rocky slopes and crowned the summit with their crenelated walls. the city itself was on the banks of the orontes, a white mass gleaming through the cypress trees. in addition to the theatres, gymnasiums, aqueducts, circuses, and race-courses, common to all large capitals, that of syria had a corso, a wide avenue, bordered from one end to the other by quadruple lines of columns. this splendid boulevard was a rendezvous for the world of fashion, and a constant stream of people passed up and down it day and night; on certain days the life and animation surpassed even that of the roman forum. the innumerable attractions of antioch, especially since the decline of athens, had brought many people to settle there, and it had, as well, a large floating population: persians, jews, orientals of every country, to say nothing of the courtesans who flocked there from susa, ecbatana, often from the banks of the ganges. under the influence of these transient dwellers and of its tremendous commercial power, equalled only by that of alexandria, manners and morals had gradually become corrupt. it was declared to be the most depraved city between paphlagonia and palmyra, a region noted for its scandalous living. as an example of the loose customs of the day, when the feast of maia was celebrated, groups of naked girls ran through the streets, waving torches, while others, in like state, swam in the clear waters of the fishing pools, in full sight of the crowds. this corrupt atmosphere had an immediate effect upon mark antony. the instant he breathed it his spirits rose; he was exhilarated, cheerful, full of his old keen desire for the pleasure of living. but did not everything in the palace of the seleucides--a restoration of the one which had made sardanapalus famous--tend to increase this feeling? as he strolled along the corso, watching the beautiful and fascinating women file past, their look seemed to say: "every hour cheated of its joy is empty as the grave!" how far he was from those austere assemblies of the pnyx, or the house of the archons! with impetuous vehemence, he stripped off his disguise of athenian simplicity and was once more his natural self. the grave demeanour and governmental cares with which he had been occupied since the macedonian days were succeeded by a period of license proportionate to his tedious term of self-restraint. no longer influenced by any fear of criticism, as everyone about him was of the same mind, yielding to the flattering libertines who surrounded him he put aside all dignity and, oblivious of his rank, joined in their orgies of debauchery. every evening a group of perfumed courtesans, brought in by anaxanor, the flute-player, swayed in rhythmic movement on the rich carpets, displaying the grace of their bodies, accompanied by languorous melodies upon the flute. the dancer, xantos, directed the performances of the mimes and buffoons, and medrador, whose father had grown rich by means of the wine-cellars of king tissaphernus, had charge of the table which, in extravagant abundance and delicacy, had never been surpassed, even in the most famous asiatic courts. such an establishment necessarily entailed great expense. how could the money for this be supplied save by the usual methods of the conqueror in a vanquished country--an increase of taxation? antony did not fail to follow the example of his predecessors. he claimed that, as brutus and cassius had drawn heavily upon the resources of these provinces, he was entitled to get even more. certain towns that had already been severely taxed were called upon for new contributions. "that will teach them the folly of upholding a bad cause," said antony, with his genial smile. these hardships, however, were not accepted everywhere with equal submission. hybreas, the champion of cappadocia, made bold to say, when the master appeared: "if mark antony demands a double, a triple tribute from us, will he provide a double, a triple crop each year?" so far from annoying him, this remark pleased the triumvir, for he had a sense of humour, and appreciated it in others, even though the joke was at his own expense. he replied with a jest and let the province of cappadocia go free of extra taxes. the good faith which he usually showed in his dealings gained him indulgence, and his generosity was an antidote to his plundering. he often restored with one hand what he had taken with the other. the day before he left antioch, wishing to reward the chef who had prepared the feasts which he and his friends had enjoyed, he gave him a palace which had served as a ransom for a wealthy citizen of magnesia. his stay at ephesus brought about the undoing of mark antony. though not less dissolute than antioch, this celebrated city was in a way different. entirely under the influence of the priests, since the temple of diana had been erected with its marble columns, it had impressed on everything, even the most objectionable, the stamp of her worship. magnificent festivals attracted not only pilgrims, but hordes of suspicious characters, to whom the sanctuary afforded a safe refuge. all this mass of men, this mixture of charlatans, mountebanks, magicians, jugglers, and sorcerers, skilful in exploiting vice as well as superstition, helped to transform these fêtes into wild revels. and these horrors, these infamous liberties, took place at the shrine of diana and under the guise of her worship. in leaving delos and approaching the syrian coast, where all things became tainted and corrupt, the character of the chaste goddess was changed. she who on the other side of the water breathed forth strength and modesty had become a coarse idol of the flesh. it seemed as though in changing her dwelling-place the very essence of her being was altered; the divine huntress had abandoned her bow and arrow, and the decadent imagination of some unknown sculptor had coarsened and distorted the lines of her virginal body. oh, nymph of the woods, in what profane regions have your flying feet strayed! when the ephesians heard that the triumvir was on his way to visit their city they determined, with their passion for deifying everything, to welcome him as they would dionysos. chariots preceded him, filled with girls representing bacchantes; a group of pans and satyrs surrounded him, dancing to the accompaniment of the flute. they saluted him with the names given to the god himself, greeting him with the verses sacred to his worship: "hail to thee, heracles, giver of all joys! oh, bacchus, to whom we owe the juicy fruit of the vines! omestes, sweet as tender figs, thou art welcome!" the whole town, wherever antony's chariot passed, was decorated with ivy and garlands of flowers. music resounded and blue clouds of incense mounted heavenward. if antony did not actually believe himself to be the son of jupiter, he was drunk with flattery and claimed some of the privileges of divine ancestry, chiefly that of being beyond the control of human laws. his caprices were limitless. he attired himself in silk and cloth of gold, had a chorus of dancers in continual attendance, and held his court with olympian bearing. but with all this he did not, for a moment, forget the selfish object of his journey. he was willing to be adored, but not to make the least sacrifice. the ionians had put up a strong protest, but he did not lessen by a farthing the tax of two hundred thousand talents which he had levied upon them. all that they gained was an extension of the time of payment, and that only because the request came to him through the beautiful corelia, who was, for the time being, in high favour. antony soon tired of travelling from one city to another and decided that it was more in keeping with his dignity to summon the kings, his vassals, to him, than to go to them. he chose tarsus for his residence and announced that henceforth the sovereigns should seek him, and he made it quite clear that the continuance of their sovereignty depended on his pleasure. none dared disobey his orders. along the dusty roads, under the placid skies, cavalcades and litters, chariots drawn by oxen, by elephants with majestic tread, moved steadily on, followed by a long file of dromedaries, bearing the baggage with oriental pomp. as the caravans drew near lances flashed, armour gleamed, the standards bore curious devices, the swarm of men and beasts presented a motley appearance. on arriving at the city gates a herald went forward and, through a silver trumpet, announced the name of the august visitor. the kings of antioch and sysima, the satrap, palemon, herod, who reigned in judea, and adallas of sidonia, were all duly announced, also the tetrarchs of lycaonia and pontus, the governor of commagene, as well as the rulers of thrace and arabia. tanned by the hot sun of the east, many of them seemed sad and very weary. one and all they hated this conqueror, but as soon as they were in his presence they were animated by the hope of some reward to be obtained, some honour or promotion to be secured. luxuriously installed in a tent, which served as a tribunal, antony received the various suppliants with great ceremony and dealt out his favours. the report got abroad that the personal attractiveness of the claimant influenced his decisions, and the princesses hastened to seek an audience. he received a visit from the noted beauty, glaphyra, and her gracious charms secured the throne of phrygia for her son; the young widow of aristobulus was assured of the permanence of her crown; herod's devoted wife, mariamne, in spite of her reserve, succeeded in winning what she desired for her husband. but the one whom, above all others, he desired and expected, the queen of egypt, had not come. why was she so late? the command had been sent to her as to the others; perhaps the wish to see her had inspired the general edict. cleopatra's failure to appear was all the more remarkable as she had certain affairs to settle with him. as an ally of rome, her attitude during the late war had given grounds for criticism. when the avengers of cæsar had asked the aid of her fleet she had urged the pretext of a tempest which prevented her from sending it. but this prudence could be interpreted as a desire to keep on good terms with both parties. so she had much to explain and should lose no time. antony had written to her several times. the first letters had been official notes from a ruler to a queen, desiring her presence according to the prescribed form then in use. her replies had been vague. he then wrote more urgently. getting no satisfactory result from his efforts, his anger was aroused. was this daughter of the lagidæ trifling with him? had she forgotten that her father owed the restoration of his throne to the gracious power of rome? and her own position? to-morrow, if he so decreed. one day he decided to send her a letter of command. but what could he say? after all he was only a man, tormented by his passions, who, unaccustomed to any resistance, felt his desire turning to exasperation. like jupiter with his thunderbolts, he imagined that the elements would obey him and that this coveted woman would come submissively if he frightened her sufficiently. when he found that his commands were disregarded, just as his advances had been ignored, he tried to forget her. he was rich in resources and had many mistresses. one succeeded the other with incredible speed, as though a constant change could give to each the power to efface the memory of cleopatra. each time that he clasped a new love to his breast he would, for the moment, feel free from the desire for her presence, would think that he had effectually rid himself of the craving for her. but these periods of oblivion passed quickly and the longing for the absent one returned, stronger than ever. although there had never been any definite bond between them, he unconsciously nourished toward cleopatra the kind of rancour that he would have felt toward a mistress who had betrayed and deserted him. he was beginning to hate her; and yet, he still longed for her coming. tarsus, like antioch and ephesus, was one of the principal cities of asia minor. situated almost at the mouth of the cydnus, that ice-cold river which, to the young alexander, had felt like the first touch of death--it had the animated life of a port, while the neighbouring forests of myrtles lent it the glamour of romance. the temple of apollo made it a shrine for men of letters, and it showed a tendency toward idealism which prepared the way for that apostle who was soon to be born there, and who was destined to preach the gospel of christ within its walls. in the meantime it was the sanctuary of aphrodite, and innumerable voluptuous statues, always laden with abundant offerings, bore witness to the fervent worship of this goddess. thus associated with divinity and screened by the range of the taurus mountains, watered by bubbling springs and swept by fragrant breezes, tarsus was an ideal resting-place. if satisfied ambition could content the human heart, antony should have been perfectly happy, for each day brought him new homage and more complete submission. in his innermost being, however, uneasiness and discontent reigned. he was not altogether sensual and was, at times, overcome by a noble sadness. he craved an object for his ambition, an aim for the exuberance which carried him away. on the days when this discontent tormented him beyond endurance he sought a counter-irritant, not in commonplace pleasures--they no longer amused him--but in healthy physical exercise, which, while it lasted, drove away all irritating thought. he would fling himself on one of his syrian steeds, under whose delicate skin the veins were clearly visible, whose nostrils seemed to breathe fire, and with bridle-rein hanging loose would ride headlong through torrents and down valleys. this exhilarating exercise restored at once that vitality and enthusiasm which his temporary depression had apparently crushed for ever. he seemed born again, full of fierce energy and joyousness, as though he had just gained a new victory, more glorious than any he had yet won. these rides often took antony to the Ægean shore. perhaps unconsciously he felt the need of looking out upon the sea, of questioning its depths. it was full of peace and beauty, covered with the shining gold of the setting sun. its rippling bosom seemed to breathe. gazing steadily at it, hearing its murmur on the beach, feeling its soft breath, it became at last a living creature to him, the woman of his dreams. in his imagination he saw two women, each aiding the other against him, both seductive, both perfidious, each having the same sovereign power to make him the happiest of men, yet taking pleasure in leaving him on this shore, solitary and forlorn. but the days went by and although he scanned the horizon to its uttermost limits, although the winds were favourable and the sea was covered with ships, he could never see that world-renowned galley with its purple sails, which travellers returning from alexandria had so often described to him. at last his patience gave out. he was tired of hoping against hope; all his powers availed him nothing against that far-away indifference, whose cause baffled him. impelled by that mysterious force which controls human destinies, he finally despatched an ambassador with orders to use all possible persuasions to induce cleopatra to come to him. iv cleopatra day was just breaking. within its inlaid walls the bed-chamber was cool and shadowy. the rose-covered trellis outside the windows made a soft, dim light. at the farther end stood an ivory bed, its four feet fashioned like a leopard's paws. cleopatra lay quiet on her pillow, her arms above her head, her eyes closed, but she was not sleeping. still drowsy, she followed, waking, the happy dreams that had come to her in sleep. ever since that first letter from antony when, with her unfailing feminine instinct, she had read between the lines an appeal that was more than a request from the triumvir of rome to a subject, her thoughts had been full of him. he had not forgotten her, then! this mighty adventurer, this conqueror who was welcomed everywhere as a god, was willing to pay any price for the privilege of seeing her again. not only was her pride flattered by this homage, but she felt that her position as a sovereign, which had been disturbed by continued tumults and uprisings, would be strengthened. it must be remembered that cleopatra was still in the restlessness of youth and her blood had all the heat of the tropics. ardent passions bring profound depressions in their train. how could she suppress this tempest within her? she hungered after tender embraces, the warmth of declared love; the fierce delight of that passion which wounds and transports at the same time--and she had only her present empty existence, with its succession of lonely days, in which life seemed to slip away, vanishing drop by drop, like water falling from a fountain. if she had followed the natural impulse of her impetuous nature she would have accepted eagerly antony's first invitation. reflection, however, counselled her to wait. the more her coming was desired, the greater would be the stimulus of a delay. this scheme was well devised, but it nearly brought fatal disaster by arousing antony's anger and his desire to show his authority, and submission was the last virtue of which cleopatra was capable. the mere suggestion of restraint woke all her instinct of rebellion. this conqueror of the orient should not imagine that because he had made vassals of a set of corrupt princes, he could compel her to appear before his tribunal, subdued and trembling. she would never come into his presence in that manner. a step on the carpet interrupted her reveries. it was charmian, her lady-in-waiting, her confidante and friend, who was privileged to approach the queen at any time. she had been associated with cleopatra from the latter's early childhood, when ptolemy auletes had chosen her from all the nobility of athens, that his adored daughter might have always near her an agreeable and cultured companion; one who would speak to her in the language of the gods. charmian, in addition, had the task of teaching the young princess the art of walking with ease, of dressing in taste, and of draping her form with those graceful linen folds which the women of tanagra have immortalized. the pupil soon surpassed her instructor, but the changed relations in no way lessened their friendship. it resulted on the one side in a deep admiration and blind devotion lasting until death, and on the other, in a confidence without reserve. if charmian came earlier than usual this morning and seemed hurried, it was because she had important news. at dawn a roman galley had entered the port, bringing quintus dellius, the ambassador of mark antony. cleopatra was much stirred by this announcement. if antony had sent an ambassador it was because he had something in mind which letters were inadequate to explain. what could this be? perhaps only a reiteration of his former invitation. but in what form would it come? reproaches were inevitable. her apparent indifference to his requests had merited them. the idea, however, brought a smile to her scornful lips. she knew how to manage her excuses. but there might be another explanation of this messenger, and the thought made her uneasy. what if the ambassador were a roman magistrate? what if he brought papers giving him the power to question her and demand a reckoning? as a subject of rome she must be cautious. how could she explain her failure to send assistance during the recent war, and that in the face of repeated and urgent demands? but charmian assured her that it was useless to torment herself with these questions. let her go to antony, as she had gone to cæsar, and all would be well. did she not possess the divine gift of fascination which stole men's reason and made them see everything through her eyes? in her heart cleopatra was of the same opinion, especially in regard to antony. she understood how strongly he was influenced by the magnetism of a beautiful woman. but who was his messenger and what course should she take with him? for a moment she was perplexed, but only for a moment. she decided to treat this messenger in the same manner that she would have treated antony, had he come in person. the first thing to do was to make herself beautiful, very beautiful; to select the apparel which would show her charms to the greatest advantage and make her irresistible. the other matters would adjust themselves in the course of conversation. she rapped three times upon a brass plaque to summon her attendants. the blinds were raised and the fresh morning light poured into the room, while the servants, like a swarm of bees, set about their daily tasks. cleopatra arose from her bed and passed on to the pool where a warm bath had been prepared. she went down the six steps into the marble basin, which was just deep enough for the water to cover her as she lay in its gentle embrace. a nubian slave was always in readiness to give her a vigorous rubbing when she came out of her bath. this massage made her transparent skin glow, and then she was again rubbed softly with nard brought from sidon. other women came in their turn to contribute to the care of her precious body. one blanched her dainty hands with a lotion made of hyssop; another polished her rosy nails; still another, squatting on her heels, touched with carmine the extremities of her tiny feet, then put on the soft-lined sandals. the hair-dresser stood in especially high favour. her profession enjoyed various privileges, not the least being her right to have long and intimate audiences with the queen, to be consulted, and, above all, to be allowed to place a flower, a feather, or the diadem, in the queen's hair, thus having her chance to win royal approval. iras, the persian, had filled this office for the past three years. the fairy-lightness of her touch and her sweet breath were celebrated. hearing them spoken of when the young girl was an attendant of mariamne, herod's wife, whose auburn hair reached to her knees, cleopatra had elected to have her for her own service. this served the double purpose of securing a talented artist for herself, and of depriving a woman whom she detested of a cherished attendant. iras had been brought to the egyptian court by a merchant of perfumes, who, under pretext of giving her a new essence to inhale, had put her to sleep and carried her off without resistance. although the new court was far grander than that of judea, even as the sun surpasses the moon, iras wept floods of tears at the change. her companions, who envied her good fortune, exclaimed: "what, you weep, when your hands have the distinguished honour of adorning the divine cleopatra!" but iras had a loving heart and the splendour of her new surroundings could not reconcile her to the separation from queen mariamne, to whom she was warmly attached. this, at least, was her feeling for the first few days when, still a novice, she assisted at the ceremony of the royal toilet. one day, cleopatra, noticing the pallor of her serving-woman, spoke to her. in her incomparably musical voice she inquired why the young girl was so sad. "are you homesick? is it regret at leaving your family, or your lover?" iras replied that her mother was dead and that she had left no lover behind on the shores of the aracus. she could not, however, cease to grieve for jerusalem and herod's palace, where the queen had been so unfailingly kind to her. however insignificant the feelings of a slave might be in the eyes of this world-famous beauty, cleopatra was touched by the ardent sincerity of iras. it was just at the time when she had returned from rome, alone and full of grief. she had a sudden wish to make this young girl, who was practically in exile, grow fond of her. nothing could be easier. a few kind words, some presents offered with tact, quickly warmed the poor little heart that distress had chilled. giving her her freedom later completed the conquest and aroused in iras as fervent an adoration as any divinity had ever been offered; a flame willing to consume itself at any moment for the queen, and ready, too, to burn itself out the day that this adored mistress ceased to illuminate the world. "quick, iras," cleopatra said that morning, when she wished to be especially beautiful. "take off my fillet and try to surpass yourself." she sat down before her dressing-table, which was covered with combs of different sizes, iridescent glass bottles, tiny jars filled with unguents, dainty puffs in boxes of powdered orris-root and other cosmetics; gold turtles, whose pierced shells held long hairpins. cleopatra bent her head, and while the negro women, immobile as bronze statues, held a silver mirror that she might see her reflection, iras passed a comb of amber tortoise-shell through the queen's hair. no one was more skilful than the young persian girl in handling the queen's flowing tresses. it was like play for her to spread them out, then turn and twist them, lift them up and arrange them in a different fashion each day. these changes of coiffure made an inexhaustible subject of conversation between the queen and her attendant. they discussed them, pronounced them more or less becoming, tried new ornaments fit for varying occasions. which was most suitable for to-day? there was no time to lose in experiments. they must decide without delay how cleopatra would receive the messenger from mark antony. after a moment's thought she decided against the crown, the ancestral head-dress, the diadem; they were all too pretentious, too formal. it was as a woman, a beautiful woman, that she would appear before this ambassador. she chose the athenian style: a simple cord attached by a ribbon above the nape of her neck, and, confining the thick waves of her hair, three bands outlined her delicate head. iras was no less expert in the use of rouge and perfumes. in phoenicia she had become familiar with salves and ointments compounded from roses and lilies and the blossoms of the privet. prepared by her these unguents had a marvellous effect in making limbs supple, and she alone knew how to make flesh shine like polished marble by rubbing it with a powder made of crushed mother-of-pearl. cleopatra never allowed any one but her dear iras to put the roses in her cheeks, to accentuate the arch of her splendid eyebrows, and to darken the natural shadows under her eyes by the skilful use of a swan's feather touched with sibium. when cleopatra was thus shod, coifed, and redolent from head to foot with sweet perfumes, the ladies in charge of the robes came in. they brought in great chests in which the robes lay without a crease to spoil their freshness. raising the covers they laid out two, three, four, until the queen had made her choice. she chose a saffron-coloured silk tunic, embroidered with narcissus blossoms. fastened to her shoulders by two amber clasps the tunic left her arms and bosom bare. above this a transparent drapery hung, woven by the women of cos and made, so the legend went, of the condensed vapours of the morning mists of springtime, the tissue that is known to-day as "the virgin's threads." cleopatra urged her attendants to make haste. she was impatient at their delay in fastening a fold, or arranging her girdle, those innumerable details of her toilet which usually entertained her. she was anxious to be ready, eager to meet this unknown man with whom she was planning such an exciting battle. when her string of pearls had been clasped around her neck, her arms and fingers adorned with bracelets and rings, she gave a final glance at her exquisite reflection in the mirrors and left the room. mark antony had chosen for his ambassador quintus dellius, famous in the odes of horace, one of the most charming and well informed men of his day. a wit, a learned historian, as well as a poet from time to time, he had the adaptable disposition which real intelligence gives, and though quick at epigrams he could be, when it was to his advantage, considerate and gracious. the consistent policy which he had successfully followed through life had been to make friends with the man in command, to devote himself exclusively to forwarding his patron's interests, and invariably to quit his service on the instant that his star set, and to attach himself to the next one in power. thus before the battle of philippi he had been the friend of cassius, after the battle of actium he became the inseparable companion of octavius. at present he thought that all the odds were in favour of antony, and, deciding that the latter was likely to hold his own, his devotion to him was unmistakable. no one could have been better qualified for the delicate mission which led him to alexandria than this practised go-between, who thoroughly understood the ways of women. as the queen, surrounded by her guard, mounted the throne, which stood before a tapestry of birds and flowers, the guest was summoned. he was a roman, short of stature, with refined features, an alert, gracious expression, whose distinguished bearing marked him as an aristocrat. he saluted her at the threshold with sword-point lowered and his left hand touching his shoulder. instead of coming forward at once he remained motionless for a moment looking steadily at cleopatra as though his amazement at her beauty had taken away his senses. then he spoke: "before all else, o mighty queen, my master, mark antony, whose mouthpiece i am, salutes you; he wishes you glory, happiness, and lasting prosperity." "you will take him my good wishes in return," she replied, smiling; and added: "but his hopes have already been fulfilled in his victories." the ambassador replied: "you are mistaken, o divine sovereign; mark antony's happiness will never be complete, he will never feel that he is truly great, until you honour him with your gracious presence." this was surely an auspicious beginning; but how could cleopatra be certain that these were not merely preliminary formulas. she must find out whether this envoy had not some other communication to make, some personal message which would indicate the real discontent of mark antony. at her command the attendants withdrew, and their departure seemed to lighten the atmosphere, free it from all suggestion of restraint. the two now felt at ease, each eager to be agreeable to the other. "why have you come to see me?" asked the queen in a tone of playful frankness, as though inviting his confidence. "tell me all; keep nothing back. i must know the real reason for the triumvir's desiring my presence; what intentions has he in regard to me?" and the expression of her eyes seemed to add: "if you do as i ask, if you speak sincerely, you shall have no cause to regret it." when she had been assured that antony had despatched his ambassador only because of his impatience to see her and renew their former friendly relations, her anxiety vanished. she had the sensation of breathing more freely, as though a window had been opened. her calculations had not betrayed her. in deferring her visit to antony she had whetted his desire to see her. but would he not make her pay for her coquetry? was he not, perhaps, planning some revenge? she made various excuses for her delay, which in no way deceived dellius. he was still more skeptical when, under pretence of timidity, she said that she had put off her departure on account of current reports concerning the reception accorded to certain princesses on their arrival at tarsus. judging it wise to reassure her he protested: "what! glaphyra! eutrope! beggars already dethroned, or fearing to be! vassals who threw themselves at the conqueror's feet with the most doubtful intentions! what comparison can there be between them and your gracious self?" then, adopting the tone of a priest addressing an idol, he went on: "o thou, the well-beloved of osiris! august sovereign whose sceptre covers land and sea! woman above all other women! understand that your presence is expected with reverence as well as eagerness. from the moment that you set foot on roman territory, gracious deeds will follow you and the whole people will pay you homage." but this was not what interested cleopatra. one word as to antony's personal sentiments would have given her more satisfaction. how could she learn what these were? how was she to find out whether he was summoning her as a sovereign, with whom he wished to renew an alliance, or as a vassal who was already in his debt? or simply because in his heart of hearts old memories of her still lingered? as he watched her and talked with her, dellius began to understand what an exceptional creature she was and why his master thought her worth the price he was paying. it was not alone her beauty which made her so wonderful. in gazing at her a vague uneasiness, an indefinable fear took possession of him. if her animation sometimes caused an uncontrollable tremor, her sensuous languor, at others, gave promise of untold delights. his keen insight told him the influence such a woman would have in the life of antony, who was now nearly forty years old, that dangerous age in sensual natures. the gallant adventures of his youth no longer sufficed; he was now experiencing an actual sentimental hunger which comes to men who, without genuine passion, have lived a life of excess. an overwhelming love at this time would be his salvation. he would give himself up to it without reservation, and however unworthy the woman who inspired it might be, she would not fail to acquire a power whose limit it was impossible to foresee. dellius felt that cleopatra would be this ruler over antony's destiny; so he decided that he would not only carry out his master's mission and persuade her to go to tarsus, but that he would also make her his patron and friend. later, when she had become the egeria of antony, perhaps she would recall the service he had rendered her and would help him to attain his own end, which was a consulship. from that moment the shrewd man set to work to interpret the sentiments of his master. he described him as deeply in love, which antony certainly was not as yet, though he was ready to be; pretended that he was obsessed by the memory of cleopatra; that for days at a time he did nothing but wait for her coming. he was often seen standing at the mouth of the cydnus, beaten by the winds, watching the incoming ships. it would be inhuman to prolong his misery. one word from her would set his mind at rest. if she would only send him that word of promise antony would be happier than if he had conquered fresh kingdoms. "is it possible," added dellius, as though talking to himself, "is it possible to have been near the divine cleopatra without experiencing on leaving her a regret which nothing but seeing her again can cure?" an indescribable dread disturbed the queen's mind. she felt that this was the decisive moment of her life, and a thrill went through her. she had a burning desire for the joys that the future might hold, and wanted to hurry on to them. she had the impulse to cry out: "i am going! i shall start to-morrow!" the attitude, however, which she had adopted from the beginning still held her captive. even to the end she must play her part, seem to hesitate, to be difficult to win, and above all, let no one suspect the longing she had to be forced to go. "since it is necessary, since the triumvir demands it, i will go to bear him my homage," she said. but this did not satisfy dellius. he had too little faith in women to trust to a vague promise made from a sense of duty. he wanted a definite statement, with no reservations. so he began to protest again. it was not as a sovereign that antony would receive the queen of egypt. he longed for her coming and would welcome her with the reverence due a goddess. such words could not fail to win the consent which was already in her heart. cleopatra's pride was safe, she had been sufficiently implored; so, with a smile, she promised to set out for tarsus before the days began to shorten. although eager to announce the good tidings, dellius accepted her invitation to stay a few days in alexandria. it would not be a waste of time because, although his master's mission had been successfully accomplished, his own was not fulfilled. in bringing cleopatra to tarsus, where she would become the mistress of antony, he had the secret hope that he would thereby win their double gratitude. each had his own end to gain and the two held long conversations, usually with antony for the subject. dellius made a point of dwelling on the triumvir's various characteristics; his tastes, his qualities, for her information when opportunity offered. undoubtedly antony had always cared for display, but the incense which asia had burned at his feet had so intoxicated him that he had become almost obsessed by the love of ostentation. nothing was gorgeous enough, no banquet sufficiently resplendent, to satisfy him. "how severe and gloomy rome to-day would seem to him; on the other hand how enchanted he would be with the magnificence that reigns here," said dellius. further persuasion was needless; cleopatra understood. a plan was already forming in her mind. she saw in imagination the glorious vision she would present to antony's astonished eyes. the next day she began to make ready for the journey. although she commanded all possible haste, for she was now really eager to go, the preparations took nearly a month. it would not have been possible to complete in less time the marvellous equipment for the voyage of this new queen of sheba. the rising sun cast the soft light of one of those ideal summer days when all outlines are blurred and blend in the mysterious charm of woods and sky. under a cluster of sycamore trees, which shaded the public square of tarsus, antony was holding court as proconsul, assisted by petty rulers, magi, and prætors, and, governed by his somewhat rudimentary conscience, deciding the various cases according to the roman law. he was besieged by a crowd, each having his own special petition, and each in turn being granted a hearing. the court was following the speech of one of the advocates in respectful silence when excited murmurs began to be heard. men came running up from the shores of the cydnus with strange tales. the agitation spread rapidly and aphrodite's name was on all lips. the people had been carefully trained by the priests, and their religion had accustomed them to believe in the proximity of the gods and in their possible intervention. but this strange tale surpassed the most wonderful fables. it was reported that the daughter of zeus was sailing up the river on a golden galley resounding with music. she had been recognized, not only by her supernatural beauty, but by those symbols with which painters and sculptors had always represented her. reclining in an enormous shell, this goddess seemed to be rising from the sea. purple sails adorned the galley and a troop of nereids hung in the rigging, waving fans, while tiny cupids scattered rose leaves at her feet. every moment new messengers arrived with fresh details that surpassed all the preceding ones. the galley's sails were of silk; purple draperies covered the decks; fifty black men from koursch rowed rhythmically, with oars tipped with silver; light smoke from the galley wafted the sweet perfume of cinnamon and of incense. the public square was gradually deserted as curiosity overcame the people. those who, the instant before, had been struggling for a place near the tribunal, had suddenly vanished. the ever-growing crowd was now jostling each other on the banks of the cydnus. snouts and cries of admiration went up. the whole city of tarsus was soon on the quais, and, in an ecstasy of enthusiasm, welcomed the approaching goddess and thanked zeus for sending her. on hearing these astounding reports antony was as one distracted. he put his hand to his head; he struggled for breath. beyond all doubt it was she! that goddess whom his impatient heart had so long craved! she had taken him by surprise! as he could not permit himself to join the crowd and rush to meet her, he called dellius. "go," he said, "receive cleopatra with all honour. put at her disposal all that she wishes, and ask her to sup with me at the palace this evening." antony was too much agitated to resume the interrupted hearings. of what importance were individual interests, or even those of the republic, in comparison with this overwhelming event? assessors, registrars, witnesses were all dismissed, and in his ecstasy, wishing to share his joy with others, he granted all the petitions laid before him. dellius returned with the message that cleopatra warmly appreciated the invitation from the triumvir, but that this first evening she wished to have him as her guest. she would expect him on board her galley at the time appointed for supper. then it was really true! it was she! she had crossed the seas to come to him! in a few moments he would see her, be at the same table with her! how should he approach her; what words of greeting should he use? he was perplexed, for proper words never come in the moment of excitement. he tried to imagine the scene. his attitude would be courteous, certainly; how otherwise? but he must have a certain majesty of bearing. his title of triumvir placed him above all other sovereigns. in the eyes of his colleagues it was important that he should maintain his prestige. cleopatra had failed in her duty as an ally of rome and it would be necessary to inquire the reasons. with all possible consideration, yet with firmness, he would ask: "what part did you take in the war? why did you fail us?" full of these thoughts, he began his preparations. he chose his most beautiful silver breast-plate, the one by an athenian artist representing achilles being dipped in the styx by his mother. he put perfume on his face, rubbed it in his hair, and, a superb martial figure, his head erect, every nerve alert, as though he were going into battle, set out on the avenue leading to the river. the plane trees cast darker shadows in the evening light. between the trunks of the trees the setting sun was like burnished copper. when he reached the river banks the brilliant sunset light had faded, but before him shone the marvellous galley. from the tips of the masts to the water's edge it was a mass of draperies illuminated by torches. it was not possible to count them, but the shining whole was like a fire mounting almost to the sky. that famous supper at tarsus, that evening meeting between those two beings who were to stir the world and leave a path of fire across the centuries, is assuredly one of the enthralling moments of history. putting aside the magnificence of the entertainment, the prodigal abundance of the feast which this daughter of the lagidæ had planned to dazzle the most powerful of the romans, to let him see that the luxury in which he lived was provincial compared with the customs and manners of her court, it was the force of the dramatic situation which appealed as these two approached each other. it was the climax of her long-planned design, the result of all her grace and wit, this taking possession of antony's very soul, so to seduce and imprison him that he could find no escape from the binding circle of her charm. she brought to this plan all the skill of the experienced woman of the world and a heart as yet untouched by real passion. in this meeting it was antony who felt embarrassed and ill at ease. although he was familiar with women's ways and accustomed to speaking freely with them, yet this charmer, with her seductive guile, the elaborate beauty of her costume, and her mysterious smile, which now mocked, now tempted him to kneel at her feet, daunted him. "you!--at last!" ... he exclaimed as he approached her, and that was all he dared say by way of reproach. this heart-felt cry was so filled with satisfied longing, showed such real joy, that cleopatra knew that she had won him. she began to make excuses for not having come before. she had been bound by so many obligations. egypt was the source of so much anxiety. for the past two years the wheat crop had failed and there was growing discontent among her people. it was highly important to attend to the needs of her country. for a long time she had doubted the possibility of being able to leave. but antony's eyes were fixed on cleopatra. he ignored the flimsy excuses, which would not have stood in her way had she desired to overcome them. he could only whisper: "you are more beautiful than ever!" "do you think so?" she answered, and her smile was that of a simple girl. then, taking her guest by the hand, she led him to the stern of the vessel, which had been converted into a grove. they took their places on the two purple couches beside the table; and enjoying the rare delicacies, drinking old wines from golden cups, they talked of many things, while the stringed instruments made sweet music. memories of other days came back to them, days when, reclining around a sumptuous table in brilliantly lighted rooms, antony had gazed on cleopatra, eager to declare his love, yet held back by conditions which so often restrain the natural inclinations. he was baulked again this evening, not by the presence of others, as in former days, but by their mutual relations. a definite explanation was necessary to clear away the political clouds which enveloped them. cleopatra took the initiative. to run the risk of being accused, of having to defend herself was contrary to all her instincts. besides, what was the danger? however much at fault she might be she was confident of having a lenient judge. whatever stand she might take, of attack or defence, she felt that her tiny hand had the power to conquer. she preferred to attack, however, and began an account of the indignities which, to uphold a just course, she had suffered at the hands of cassius. three different times he had demanded recruits from her, and at each refusal she had been overwhelmed by a deluge of threats. "the scoundrel!" muttered antony. she went on hurriedly: "but you, too, antony, you counted on me, you expected my fleet to come to your aid, and you had a right to expect it! you could never have doubted my good intentions; i was your surest ally. all my prayers were with you, you, the avenger of cæsar!" the atmosphere was changed. the discussion was taking an entirely different turn from what antony had expected. he was completely disarmed. he who had planned to question her sternly, to obtain a justification, or at least some excuse for her attitude, found himself quietly listening to the voice of an enchantress. "you have been annoyed with me?" she said, in a caressing tone. "i have never been angry with you," he answered. "yes, you have. i know very well. it was at lacedæmon. you were put out at having waited for me in vain." but here, too, cleopatra was ready with an explanation. she related how the gods, whose designs are impenetrably concealed from men, had seemed determined to thwart her plans. her squadron had scarcely set sail when it had been scattered by a tempest. several of the ships had been sunk. she, herself, ill and exhausted, had been saved only by a fortunate chance. she had returned to alexandria at grave peril in a boat which was leaking. and when the squadron had been put in condition again it was too late; the allies had just won the battle of philippi. presented in this light her conduct as an ally of rome was not only above reproach but worthy of all praise; and antony was not sparing in his commendation. he was deeply moved at the thought of the dangers she had passed through. he called her sublime, heroic. he was almost at the point of making excuses on his own account. had he not been a fool in so obstinately expecting her arrival? but, on the other hand, had he not suffered torment all the days since fate had separated them? everywhere, at every moment, he had sought her, had hoped to see her appear. without her he knew only unhappiness. he loved her, he had always loved her. to be content without her was impossible. and now that she was with him his passion was too strong for him. it was a burning fire that would never be quenched. cleopatra listened to all this gravely, making no comment. his words stirred her innermost being, and she was thrilled at the thought: "the master of the world belongs to me!" undoubtedly she understood the passionate tone of this hero, shared his intoxication. she felt how sweet it would be to yield, to let herself be carried away by this overwhelming emotion. but the time had gone by when she was ready to give herself up at the first asking, as when she had yielded to the desire of cæsar. the innocent young girl of those days had grown rich in experience. the years, the events, the stay at rome had taught her many things. she recognized the value of her favours. although fully determined to grant them, that she might bind antony to her, unite their destinies in order to begin once more with him the game that she had lost the first time, she intended to choose her own hour. the supper was over. leaning back on her cushions she seemed the very image of sensual delight. she regarded antony. "i love you," he whispered. "hush," she said in the gentlest way, as though correcting a cherished child; "you must not say such things." with a sudden frenzy and before she had time to draw back antony pressed his passionate lips to hers. he would not be silent. he had already waited too long, had suffered too much from her delay. all hope of happiness seemed to have slipped away and he had been on the verge of despair. and now that she was really with him, she the adored idol of his heart, she told him not to speak, not to tell her of this love which meant life itself to him! the young queen stood up. the dying light of the candles and torches transformed her into a statuette of gold, one of those deities who are worshipped surrounded by a flashing circle of fire. she looked at antony. a little dismayed by his ardour she asked herself whether, in spite of her ambition, she really could endure such a passionate lover. "wait," she said, "it grows late. i am very tired. let me have this evening to rest." but antony did not stir. leaning on the couch, his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, he stared distractedly at this exquisite creature. he could have remained there for ever, under those shining stars which, hour by hour increasing in brilliancy as the light of the torches faded, seemed to draw nearer, as though to share his happiness. "let us go," she murmured, "it is time to say good-night." his longing eyes implored her: "do not send me from you without a promise." with her maddening smile, she replied, "to-morrow i will come to have supper with you." "until to-morrow, then," signed antony. then, disappointed and baffled, his whole being tortured by visions of a joy which had seemed within his grasp and which for the moment had escaped him, he left the barge and went back to the shore. for the next few days cleopatra and antony were inseparable. it was the beginning of that passion which was gradually to absorb their whole being and consume them like a fire. if antony had from that first evening completely lost his reason, cleopatra had kept hers. her mind was stronger than her emotions. shrewd and clear-sighted, she looked into the future. with her mind's eye she saw the old dreams come back, her cherished plans of long ago. if antony, as ruler of rome, lacked the strength of cæsar, his power was as far-reaching; and, if his character lacked the force, his mind the breadth of the other, she would have all the more chance of supremacy, all the greater opportunity of controlling the government. she was seized with the desire to try the experiment without delay. a great bitterness, an ever-growing rancour was in her heart against her sister who had disputed her right to the throne and who had failed in the contest. fleeing from her vengeance, this sister, arsinoë, had taken refuge in the temple of diana, at ephesus, and, under the protection of the high priest, megabyzus, had assumed the role of a sovereign. this insult to cleopatra fell directly within the jurisdiction of the triumvir. he alone could put a stop to it. she asked that the princess be put to death, and also the minister, serapion, who had upheld her in the rebellion and flight to ephesus. such severities were not at all to antony's taste. the happy hours spent at ephesus were still fresh in his memory. should he forfeit those for a woman's caprice? should he thus discredit his reputation as a genial proconsul? besides, in violating the religious privileges he would incur the risk of making many enemies. he tried to argue, not in favour of the guilty ones, but to save his own standing. how would it look if, having shown mercy to the vanquished of his own country, he should prove pitiless to people who were subjects of rome, and against whom he had no just complaint? the plea had no effect. there was something in cleopatra's character, not so much of cruelty as of a desire for domination, which would not endure resistance. arsinoe had attacked her authority; consequently, as long as arsinoe lived cleopatra would not be happy. was not she constantly in danger of some new attempt against her crown on the part of this rebel? antony suggested imprisonment. but no, it was arsinoe's head that she demanded from him. he finally succeeded in rescuing the priest megabyzus, thanks to the intervention of the ephesians, who threatened to put the town in a state of siege rather than allow any indignity to their revered high priest. this was the beginning of a succession of trivial discussions. cleopatra always succeeded in having her own way, gradually substituting her own wishes for the authority of antony. his will was completely dominated by her, for she held him by the magic force of love. what did she give him in exchange for her first victory? her method of evasion had succeeded too well for her to renounce it readily. before giving herself to antony, her instinct, a curious compound of ambition and coquetry, told her to lead him by slow degrees to the point where a whole lifetime of delight would be needed to quench his burning thirst to possess her. prudence whispered also that, while granting him certain privileges, it would be wise to reserve the fulfilment of his happiness until they had arrived in alexandria. would not this be the surest means of attracting him to that city where she needed him to stabilize her power? and as to keeping him there, was not the enchanted court of the bruchium, the prestige of her palace, its festivals, the bed of roses where cæsar had lingered, the place where she would have the greatest chance of playing the part of the bewitching sorceress, from whose spell he would never escape? v the inimitables when antony and cleopatra separated they planned to be together again for the winter. antony applied himself to his affairs in asia minor with an unexpected industry. from early morning until late in the evening he was busy, often receiving delegates and signing papers after his supper had been served. at this rate he quickly settled the disputes between herod and the adjoining rulers concerning frontiers, assigned to each legion the territory belonging to it, chose the governors, and, in a word, put everything in such order that he could absent himself with safety. he decided to set sail the latter part of november. the heavens were ominously dark, the sea was gray and rough, but what matter? the wind blew from the north and would drive him straight to alexandria. in alexandria the presence of the triumvir was expected with varied feelings. those who had faith in egypt's power and her ability for self-government deplored the arrival of the roman ruler. to them he meant merely a new lover for the queen, a master less gracious and perhaps more covetous than cæsar. others, recalling the promise of the god, regarded the hero of philippi as a possible ally, who would restore the ancient grandeur of the kingdom. when it was announced that antony would disembark unpretentiously, unescorted by either troops or squadron, simply as a nobleman returning the visit of a great lady, these dissensions ceased. all agreed that, as this was merely a visit of courtesy, it was necessary to welcome him warmly. besides, the queen's orders were explicit. she had not forgotten the lessons that dellius had taught her. the insignificant specimen of splendour that she had displayed at tarsus had been so much appreciated that she wanted now to show the whole wealth of her resources. she had made up her mind that antony's reception here should entirely efface the memory of those accorded him at ephesus and at tarsus. she spent gold lavishly and offered prizes to those who should invent some new decoration, some spectacle which would be sure to win universal admiration. however brilliantly decked with flags the fort, with its banners blazing from one end to the other like bonfires, however magnificent the pageants, and numerous the gateways, carpets, triumphal arches, which lined the streets where the procession passed, they made little impression on antony; or rather, these external trappings seemed but the natural setting for his own happiness. even the shouts of welcome were but echoes of his own exaltation. one thought alone absorbed his mind. in a moment now he would see hen, would hold her in his arms. her image obliterated everything else. his desire to possess her was the rhythm to which the whole world moved. four galloping horses were speeding him along the royal way. the pink façade of the bruchium rose above its terraces. he was getting nearer, nearer; in another instant he would be face to face with cleopatra. "will she be mine at last?" he asked himself, breathlessly. she had sworn it and it was on this understanding that they had parted. but with women, with this woman especially, with her subtle, sinuous ways, one could never tell. the uncertainty made his heart beat fast. the horses galloped steadily on, made the last slope, and antony was at the door of the palace. above, on the first step, surrounded by white-mitred priests swinging censers, and by officers in rich array, cleopatra was awaiting him. she evidently wished to remind him of the days at tarsus, for she was draped in a sea-green robe which made her look like a nereid. necklaces of pale green chalcedony fell over her bosom like ocean spray, and on the turquoise clasp of her belt mysterious symbols were engraved. as antony approached she cast a laurel branch toward him and came down to greet him. on bended knees, with outstretched arms, he saluted her with a gesture of adoration. they grasped each other's hands and spoke for a moment in low tones. then they went up the steps of the grand stairway together in silence. they were smiling, and their expression was that of perfect, exquisite understanding. from that day serene happiness encompassed them. the calculations, the coquetry, vanished. there was no further anxiety save that which comes to those accustomed to a life of pleasure, when they ask themselves: "will it last, shall i still be happy to-morrow?" this was real, absolute, supreme love. many people, resenting the glamour of romance, have not seen, have not wished to see in this famous adventure anything but a selfish scheme, and in cleopatra an ambitious courtesan. it is true that the persecutions of her youth had caused her to look on love as a means, had made her regard cæsar as a protector from whom she could expect, primarily, the restoration of her kingdom, and later, if death had not come so suddenly, the crown of an empress. but with antony it was different. at the outset, perhaps, in her dreary solitude she had certain plans in mind by which she could use him to carry out her ambitious schemes. bereft of the great ruler by whose power she had built up her fortune, she probably dreamed of replacing him with antony and continuing with him those bonds that the fatal poignard of brutus had severed. but she had not reckoned on the hot blood of youth. if that voyage to tarsus had been a snare cleopatra was caught in her own trap. she had set out as a conqueror, sure of enforcing her will, and she had found love awaiting her to lead her captive. however attractive antony's possessions might be, his personal charm outweighed them all. he had in a rare degree those gifts which win affection, and, in spite of all her premeditated schemes and plots, in spite of the endless intrigues which may have been combined with her feeling for him, cleopatra undoubtedly gave him her whole heart. what is more convincing than the final tragedy? when a love affair ends with the voluntary death of the lovers, when they both kill themselves rather than live on alone, any preceding faults or failings are of small account. that last hour is the only one to be marked on the dial of history. but at this time there was no thought of death. day followed day, wholly given over to the joy of living. every moment spent together created new dreams to be carried out; each desire gratified gave birth to a new desire. they seemed to have within them an inexhaustible spring from which they drank without ever quenching their thirst. the only perfect love is that where flesh and spirit are satisfied in turn, where heart and soul share in the ecstasy. to cleopatra, who had never loved before, this feeling was a new experience. to antony it was a surprise which plunged him in unspeakable delight. after his life of excess it would have seemed impossible for him to be thrilled by this new joy. but all other experiences were wiped out, and in this love he was born again. like to the fire which rises, impervious to corruption, his passion for cleopatra had burned away all stains of the past. their mutual happiness seemed to affect all their environment. the queen took an exquisite pleasure in pointing out the charms of the bruchium, that incomparable museum of art and nature. she wanted to share all its wonders with her lover. even if she picked a rose she wanted him to inhale its fragrance as though it were an ethereal fragment of herself, and its perfume were her own breath. in showing him a marble statue from the chisel of praxiteles, the bronze hercules that ptolemy vii had brought from corinth, a bas-relief covered with figures from the iliad; in music, or some page from a greek drama, she sought that close contact of mind and spirit which should make them one being. but if antony yielded at times to the refining influence of the daughter of the lagidæ, at other moments his own virile nature had the mastery and controlled them both. the orgies of the bruchium are matters of history. the moderation of modern life, with its democratic views, its lesser fortunes, its law-restricted vices, gives no hint of the extravagant living of the ancients. the scale is entirely different. there is no comparison between the provincial fêtes of to-day and the saturnalian revelries of the romans. our hygienic repasts offer no idea of the gluttonous feasts of balthazar. modern monuments, modern buildings, how pitifully poor they are compared with those colossal structures that rameses or darius employed thirty years of their reign in completing, and which have survived them for as many centuries! what a contrast between our richest palaces and those massive retreats of ancient kings, with their stupendous ramparts, their avenues of obelisks, the forest of columns which surrounded them! the most magnificent court of europe would seem paltry set by the side of one of any satrap or roman proconsul. the world in those days belonged to the privileged few who had the entire control. the lower classes were content to look on at their revels. there were giants in those days compared with the less virile physique of modern men. the suns which shone on their joys have set. a certain sadness depresses the modern mind, inoculated with the virus of the ideal. antony and cleopatra lived at a time when they could watch life roll by like a mighty torrent. the vigour of the young world boiled in their veins with no thought of sin. to be happy was the only wisdom. they were like the followers of epicurus, whose sole aim was to enjoy to the full the passing hour. in that wonderful city, where everything seemed planned for their delight, they spent indescribable days, days in which nothing seemed too high or too low to add to their enjoyment. as fearless in planning pleasures as in carrying them out, they were truly inimitable. cleopatra wished to shower every possible luxury on her guest, and she commanded that the habitual magnificence of the court life be increased in every way. a story is told by philotas, who had come from amphissus to finish his studies at the serapium, of having made the acquaintance of a steward of the royal kitchens. there he saw eight wild boars waiting to be roasted before a huge brazier. "is the queen having a banquet this evening?" he asked. he was much astonished to learn that only the usual court was to be present, not more than a dozen guests at the outside. "what," he cried, "eight wild boars for twelve stomachs?" "don't you know," answered the steward, "that only at a certain stage is a roast fit to eat? now it is not possible to know at what moment the food must be served here, for the triumvir may dally over a game of chess, or take a sudden fancy for a gallop to canopus. then there is nothing to do but to put out the fires and wait. at other times he says he is famished and must be served before the regular time. so one boar, one quarter of beef, a few geese or guinea fowls are not enough; there must be an unlimited supply!" this is one anecdote among many which shows not only the wastefulness but the happy carelessness which surrounded this great spoiled child, antony. everything gave way to his capricious fancy. cleopatra lived but to please him. leaning on the breast of her hero, she saw life only through his eyes. at times their caresses made a paradise for both; at others she was occupied in inventing some new form of amusement to divert her lover and herself. this constant effort was a drain on her physically and mentally and led to all kinds of follies. one of these, which happened at a banquet, is famous. the vast hall where the guests were assembled was proportioned to conceal its height. it was encircled by arcades. in each of these a great-pawed sphinx of porphyry bore the image of a woman in egyptian head-dress. light poured out from torches supported by brass arms, from high candelabra spread out like sheaves, from silver tripods, these latter spouting great flames. a hundred guests stood expectantly around the table looking at the marvellous display of golden platters, cups, and bowls. they were awaiting the arrival of antony and cleopatra. presently, to the sound of music, the royal couple appeared, he, superb, god-like, in his star-covered tunic, she, adjusting her floating scarf and playing with the bracelets on her arms. at the head of the table stood a couch supported by four crouching griffins. the royal hosts reclined there, side by side, and motioned to the guests to take their places around the table. this evening the special feature was a dance, or rather, a series of emblematic figures invented by clitias, the celebrated sicilian comedian. a group of twenty-four dancing girls appeared, each representing an hour; some black as night, some rosy as the dawn, others, again, the colour of broad daylight, and the different shades of dusk. these, slowly or quickly, called up in turn the image of earthly joys which come with the passing day. as each hour gave place to the succeeding one she came to kiss the feet of the queen. although this charming spectacle roused great enthusiasm and so delighted antony that it was repeated several times, cleopatra seemed absent-minded. she was wondering what novelty she could provide for the next evening. it was essential to set before her beloved guest something which he had never before seen. a sudden light came into her eyes; again she had found it. "i invite you to come to-morrow to a feast which will surpass all that your eyes have ever beheld!" and as antony, with his generous smile, said that such a thing could not be possible, she replied, briefly: "the supper alone will cost ten million sesterces." antony continued incredulous. this was not the first time that his beloved one had made extravagant statements. "let us lay a wager," she cried. he agreed. "if i lose what shall i give you?" she needed no time to consider. the word came to her lips as though she had often used it: "a kingdom." had the wine gone to his head? did he regard the roman provinces merely as stakes to gamble with? he suggested phoenicia. phoenicia, on whose coast lay tyre, gebel, sidon, berytus, all manufacturing towns, with their dyes, their carpets, their valuable carved furniture made from the cedars of lebanon; and all sorts of other rich possessions! for the moment cleopatra did not believe her ears. she thought he was jesting. but antony's expression was serious. she saw that the offer was made in good faith. they touched their fingertips in token of agreement. the report of the wager soon spread. nothing was talked of in the city but the mysterious plan for the coming night when the bruchium would see all its former splendours surpassed. reasonable men shrugged their shoulders. ten million sesterces for a single repast! it was not possible! others crowded together to discuss among themselves what new extravagance the queen was concocting to shake the finances of the kingdom. the next evening the same guests assembled in the vast hall of the arcades. they were alive with curiosity. what were they gathered together to witness? what spectacle could justify the enormous expense that had been announced? but on entering the hall they saw nothing out of the ordinary. there were the same brilliant illuminations, the same gorgeous display of flowers and gold plate; all the exquisite details were just the same. with their customary ceremony the sovereigns entered. the queen was so simply dressed that only her jewels attracted attention. her passion for them was well known and she had continually added to the countless treasures of the lagidæ. wherever she went she had acquired the rarest stones. while at rome the etruscan workers had given their entire time to making jewellery of her own designing. her preference had always been for pearls. she had collected them from the persian gulf, from ceylon, from malaysia, and whenever a ship-owner went to india he had orders to bring back any exceptional pearls that he found there, regardless of their cost. she wore them everywhere, around her neck, about her arms, fastened in her belt, of every shape and tint. this evening, however, she wore only two. but such pearls! their size, their beauty of outline, were beyond all estimate. suspended by an invisible thread of gold, they gleamed in her ears like drops of dew on the petals of a rose. the marvel was that nature had twice produced such perfect pearls, identical in form and sheen, and that twice they had been found by man, although centuries apart. the first had been sent to olympias from ophir, by her son alexander, and the second had only recently been discovered near the coast of malay after exhaustive searching. did they reflect her shining eyes, were they tinted with the roses on her young cheeks; or were they, as legend says, living creatures who are affected when their fate is in the balance? the banquet went on, lavish, but a little dull, as when an expected diversion fails. dessert was served, and still nothing had happened. there was a general air of disappointment. antony alone was in high spirits. he looked on himself as the winner of the wager and was amusing himself by imagining the prize he could demand. his joking became flippant: "by bacchus, your supper is not worth the ten million sesterces that you promised," he cried, impatiently, as he leaned toward cleopatra. "don't be so certain," she replied: "you have not won yet." she called the cup-bearer, who stood always near, and signalled to him to re-fill her cup. this golden cup, a marvel of workmanship, was supposed to have belonged to pericles. in any case it had been carved by one of the best artists of his epoch. a troop of archers adorned it, and the handle was in the form of a beautiful woman. all eyes were fixed on cleopatra. what was she about to do? what miracle was to happen? for astonishing things were always expected of her. turning toward antony she raised the cup to her lips, and with an expression half humorous, half solemn, said: "look carefully. when i have drunk this, my wager will be won." at the same time she fastened one of the pearls and let it fall to the bottom of the foaming cup, where it was quickly dissolved. cries of horror went up, as in the face of an irreparable disaster. having emptied the cup, cleopatra made ready, for a second sacrifice. antony seized her wrist. "spare your jewels," he cried; "i acknowledge my defeat." the queen hesitated; and he added, "phoenicia is yours!" what was the use of doubling the sacrifice? it was said that in memory of that evening cleopatra always wore the odd pearl in her bosom. octavius found it there after her death. it was in the shape of a tear, an enormous tear, as though all the tears that those beautiful, closed eyes had shed were gathered together in it. thinking that no woman, not even livia, was worthy of such a jewel, or fearing that it would bring him misfortune, the conqueror of actium carried it off as an offering to venus. "thus," says pliny, in melancholy vein, as he was dreaming one day in the temple, "the half of one of those suppers at alexandria is to-day the ornament of a goddess." had antony forgotten that he was triumvir? did he not remember that the life of all men, especially that of a ruler, is a hard and continuous struggle? not altogether; but, without questioning whether the moment was propitious, unmindful of the disturbing news of troubles in italy, and of the incursions of the parthians into asia minor, led by the traitor labismus, he still dallied. he knew that some day he would be forced to take command of his troops, but the life of a conqueror slips by very quickly when he is in the arms of a beautiful woman. while waiting, enmeshed, entangled, like a prey, he was verily a captive; but the bands that held him were too delightful for him to make the slightest effort to break them. when stung by conscience he comforted himself with the reflection that he would know how to get away when it was actually necessary. in order to have a pretext that would justify his prolonged stay in alexandria he took up some governmental work, chiefly the revision of the treaty of alliance between the roman republic and cleopatra. all its clauses were arranged in accordance with her wishes and, at her instigation, he sealed it by recognizing cæsarion as the legitimate son of cæsar, the heir-presumptive to the throne of egypt. the understanding between the two countries being arranged, he summoned the best equipped divisions of his army and had them placed along the borders of the nile. this military display restored order generally. it was universally recognized that the queen had a powerful support, and that obedience to her was necessary. finally, to confirm her authority over these troops, and to show that they were hers to command, the hawk-crest of the lagidæ was engraved on their shields by the side of the roman eagle. armed with helmet and cuirass cleopatra, riding at antony's side, reviewed them on the parade ground. as she was now convinced of the solidity of her throne, and had no longer any uneasiness save the dread of seeing her lover take leave, cleopatra put her wits to work to keep all disquieting outside cares away from him. constantly with him, seeing everyone who came near him, she arranged their daily programmes in such fashion that there was no chance for idleness. their life was a veritable whirlwind. they went for long rides along the sandy roads, taking such unreasonable routes that they returned with their horses foundered. they sought recreation in hunting deer and gazelles, and risked life and limb in pursuit of the wild faun. danger exhilarated them, and it, in turn, gave them keener appreciation of the hours spent in the privacy of their apartment. gradually, however, their sense of enjoyment lost its flavour. the need for perpetual novelty, the desire for sharper sensations, made them seek experiences which were inevitably degrading. in their quest of these new adventures they went, at first secretly, then without disguise, to mix with the disorderly pleasure seekers who nightly frequented the gardens of the ceramicus. many goddesses had temples at alexandria but none was worshipped more persistently and fervently than venus. under the different names of urania, astarte, acidalia, callypige, and cypris, each inhabitant, each young girl, recognized her power, and brought her offerings. in a sycamore grove, opposite the celebrated wall, more than fifteen hundred courtesans trafficked openly in their wares, unhampered by the hypocrisy which restrains modern civilization. here, also, was the school where expert matrons instructed a hundred young girls in the intricate art of pleasing the goddess of love. taken from their parents, either with their consent, or for money, these girls came sometimes from the most remote countries, for the variety of types found at the ceramicus formed one of its chief attractions. some were fair, with light eyes and hair like silk; others were of olive complexion, and others again had dark skins. they were not all equally beautiful, that is, according to the greek ideal, but they all had plump arms and firm breasts, all understood the art of smiling, and of perfuming their bodies. what did these royal lovers, who had all possible means of gratifying every kind of caprice without leaving their palace walls, what did these misguided beings seek in the dim shade of those trees, among a crowd of loose women? unluckily, these expeditions could not be concealed indefinitely. although antony wore a mask, and cleopatra was draped from head to foot in a sombre veil, more than one passer-by, because of the presence of eros, a devoted satellite of antony who went everywhere with them, suspected the presence of these sovereigns in places where they had no right to be. the final _dénouement_ came as the result of a brawl in which they were hopelessly entangled. it happened in the rhakotis quarter, one of the most disreputable parts of the town, where debauchery ran riot. it was filled with houses of ill-repute; the alleys rang with barbarous music accompanying revolting scenes in the fetid taverns. and here the ruler of rome and the descendant of egyptian kings loved to spend their nights. antony was becoming brutalized, and cleopatra, also, was affected by this life. they quarrelled, passed cynical jests, and, taking colour from their surroundings, nothing pleased antony so much as to watch the queen of egypt seated till morning before these dirty booths, and to hear her ravishing voice, meant to make music for the gods, singing vulgar songs, reciting obscene verses, or using the phrases that he had formerly heard only between low soldiers and women of the town. one night there was a squabble between one of these women and some sailors. instantly a tumult of cries and blows began. violent fighting followed and knives glittered. cleopatra was about to faint. her throat was parched, a cold sweat broke out on her forehead. she had hardly strength enough to reach the exit. eros seized her just in time and carried her into the open air. she revived, but unfortunately her veil had been pushed aside, and pale and frightened appeared the young face that at other times was seen crowned by the head-dress of the egyptian kings. what is more significant than the degradation of these lovers, overtaken by fate? from the crest of fortune's hill they could have looked down on the ugliness of the world at their feet and have said: "we are safe!" but they were insatiable. possessing all the best, they coveted the worst as well. they wanted their wheel of sensations to go on turning, turning. at the least sign of its stopping they set it going again, and it dragged them into the depths from which they came up irremediably stained. this scandal of the street brawl had no immediate consequence, however. the hour of nemesis had not yet come. the people of alexandria were content with their reëstablished government, their increased revenue, and attached but little importance to what they called these frivolous pranks. their own standards were low and there was no actual laws that condemned cleopatra's conduct. on the contrary, it established a certain sympathy between the queen and her subjects. since she, who had seemed so far above them, had descended to the ranks of the street women, what concession might not be expected from her, or what good fortune? men who had long worshipped her at a distance drew near to regard her with longing eyes. one of these admirers wrote: "any other woman would grow stale, but not cleopatra. the more you see her the greater her fascination. she can transform even vice, cruelty, debauchery by her unspeakable charm. in the midst of her excesses the very priests themselves can only bless her!" antony also had been adopted by the alexandrians. cæsar's aristocratic bearing, his stern expression, his austere habit of mind, had overawed them; while their naturally frivolous temperament was thoroughly at ease in the presence of the jovial triumvir. whereas the one always kept them at a distance, whether on horseback or in his litter, never mixing with the populace, the other enjoyed the street shows, went about everywhere, stopped before the stalls, sometimes buying a trifle for which he paid double price, and taking it to cleopatra. he talked with the men in the street, was not afraid of passing jokes with them, or even of emptying an amphora of wine in their company. he had discarded his military dress when appearing in public, as it recalled the hated roman rule. he replaced the roman officers by egyptian guards, and the coats of mail and helmets, surmounted by silver crests, were exchanged for silk robes with oriental head-dresses. this delicate flattery of the populace provoked much jesting criticism. "he reserves his tragic role for the romans; for us he has always a smile," many said, recalling the part he had played at the time of the proscriptions. his intimate associates, who shared this lawless life, had even less cause than the alexandrians to find fault with him. like antony, they were under the bewitching charm of cleopatra. they loved her, admired her, and to win her favour bore with good humour the sarcastic thrusts of her jesting moods. to please and amuse her some of them sacrificed all sense of dignity. paterculus has left the story of munatius plancus, former consul, and several members of antony's staff who, one evening during a fête, crowned themselves with reeds, tied fish tails to their naked backs, and mimicked the dance of glaucus. it seemed as though the masters of the world, those proud romans who had formerly scorned the queen of egypt, had now become her slaves. vi antony's wives it was no time for play, for masquerading, or for parades. threats were in the air. the parthian invasions were daily becoming bolder and there were many uprisings in italy. it was one of those feverish crises of that malady which had stricken italy for more than a century and whose periodic return endangered her foundations. on one hand the landowners were trying to regain their confiscated property; on the other, the war veterans, to whom these estates had been promised, were exacting the fulfilment of the promise. these latter, reinforced by the standing army, which no longer received its pay regularly, were the larger and stronger party. in fact, they were the only remaining organized force of the republic. the man who could meet their just demands and enforce his own will would have been master of the situation. with his countless legions and his control over them antony seemed to be the man. in his absence, octavius was next in line. but his puny personality and his reputed cowardice and cruelty were grave handicaps. he made sundry efforts to reconcile the opposing parties. on one occasion, at gabies, he had a meeting of the landowners and representatives of the soldiers to discuss before a jury the relative interests of the opponents. some decision might have been reached, as both sides desired it, had a hearing been possible; but two people purposely absented themselves; two who were determined on war and had effective means of bringing it about. these two were fulvia, antony's wife, and his brother, lucius. for antony was married, very much married. the day after the battle of pharsalus he had wedded fulvia, who had already been twice married; the first time to the demagogue clodius, and, after his tragic death, to curion, tribune of the people. in her association with these violent men she had acquired the habit of meddling in politics. under their influence her mind had become emancipated and masculine; she had lost the sweetness of her own sex without gaining any qualities to make up for it. in spite of this, and although she had no beauty, fulvia had succeeded in laying hold of the imperator, perhaps even in making him love her. she had doubtless succeeded, because it was the destiny of this great agitator to upset the hearts of women and yet be subject to their will. far-seeing and masterful, she had discerned what could be drawn from the powerful instrument that antony was, provided a firm hand controlled him. the power fulvia had over him was such that at times he seemed to be nothing more than a sword hung at her girdle. her detestable influence was responsible for most of the bloody deeds which have sullied the name of antony. the three hundred deserters from brindisi were executed at the instigation of this termagant; their punishment afforded her such keen joy that she desired to be present at the death, that her robe might be spattered with their blood. it was she also who stirred up in her husband's heart his hatred of cicero. it is well known with what vehemence cicero, in his philippics, denounced the man who, though a republican, stood for despotism. he designated antony as "a soldier lacking political genius, without loftiness of soul, destitute of real distinction, lost by debauchery." divining whose influence impelled antony to act, he fearlessly accused her: "is this man free," he demanded of the citizens whom he was urging to quit the demagogic party, "is he free, when controlled by a woman who imposes her laws upon him, prescribes, commands, forbids, as she sees fit?" fulvia could never forgive. at the hour of reckoning she found in her venomous heart the arrow that cicero had planted there, and sent it back with fatal effect. to have her assailant assassinated was not sufficient, she desired to dishonour his remains. when the head of the great orator was brought to antony, she drew a long gold pin from her hair and pierced the tongue which had defended justice from one end of the world to the other. naturally such a woman would not let herself be robbed without protest. when she heard what skilful hands were detaining her husband, rage gnawed at her heart. how should she get him back? supplications and threats were sent in turn to the bruchium. but antony was dwelling in paradise, oblivious to all that did not concern his beautiful mistress. he was determined to remain ignorant of any reason for leaving her and often did not even unroll the scripts which the courier had brought him from his wife. fulvia, however, was capable of dire vengeance. to stir up civil war appealed to her as an expedient worthy of consideration. in consultation with her brother-in-law, lucius, an intriguer who had the dream of crushing octavius and putting his own family in power, she said: "when thousands of men are dying for his cause antony will be compelled to leave cleopatra's arms." at the instigation of the two conspirators several landowners roused the rural population. there were skirmishes and combats. a large number of towns declared themselves as opposed to octavius. the cries of death resounded as far as rome. the statues of the triumvirs were broken. lucius took advantage of these uprisings to declare himself, in his brother's name, the defender of republican ideals. antony himself, he affirmed, thought that the triumvirate had lasted long enough. he was ready to cancel his power and content himself with being consul. these assertions gained many partisans for him among the men who wished law and order restored. with things at such a pass it was incredible that antony would not come to assume the leadership. delegates sent to alexandria to induce him to return were refused admission to his presence. cleopatra bade them depart without delay on pain of imprisonment. hearing of this outrage, fulvia, whom no crime appalled, conceived the idea of combining with antony's enemies. she made a proposal to octavius, and, as a proof of sincerity, suggested his marrying clodia, her daughter by clodius. she was a charming young girl, not yet seventeen years of age, and had already attracted octavius's fancy. but he was not to be ensnared; at no price would this practical man have encumbered his career by having fulvia for a mother-in-law! so the war went on. despite antony's contempt for his adversary--"that beardless blackguard," as he scornfully called him--he knew very well what the ultimate issue would be, although cleopatra took all possible means to conceal the actual danger; but he persisted in his indifference. his exasperated wife was in despair and, seeing the peril increase from day to day, began to re-open negotiations. however difficult these might be with such an elusive husband, still they offered the only possible chance of rousing antony to action. the chief thing was to find an ambassador who could gain an audience. she and lucius finally selected ahenobarbus, the triumvir's old comrade-in-arms, one of his bravest generals, who during all their campaigns together had rendered most valuable aid, yet at the hour of victory had always effaced himself before his chief. he, at least, would be given a hearing. when this roman of the old school, fresh from the battlefield, whose cuirass seemed to stick to his body as his flesh to his bones, entered the luxurious perfumed quarters of the bruchium, and saw antony in a flowing, embroidered robe, a scimitar in his girdle, his head wrapped in a turban adorned with a shining carbuncle, he was overcome. was this the conqueror of philippi, his comrade that he had not seen since, clad in wild beasts' skins, he had endured without complaint the bitter hardships of a macedonian winter? "mark antony!" he exclaimed, and that name alone expressed all the astonishment and dismay that filled his soul. antony was far from callous to this appeal. when he understood what his wife and brother had undertaken, his face reddened. he knew well that personal interest and profit formed part of their zeal in serving him; but the fact remained that fulvia furnished a rare example of wifely devotion, and lucius was an intelligent man. for the moment he had a sincere desire to join them. "if you feel that way," said ahenobarbus with the simplicity of a heart accustomed to match deeds with words, "why hesitate? the men who are fighting for your cause are imprisoned in the fort at perugia; they are in danger of starving to death. take command of your legions and go to their aid." but things were not so simple as this brave soldier imagined. cleopatra undertook to enlighten him. little versed as he was in the ways of sentiment, he comprehended at the first sight of her, at the sound of her charming voice, that antony was no longer his own master, that he belonged body and soul to this siren. and then he tried to make her see reason. he explained the situation without reserve. if lucius and fulvia were dependent on their own resources, octavius would probably have the advantage, and antony would lose the chance of overcoming an enemy who, though cowardly now, might one day be formidable. cleopatra was too wise not to realize the justice of these arguments. no one was more anxious than she for antony's advancement, no one had greater reason to dread the triumph of that legitimate nephew, who disputed with cæsarion the heritage of cæsar. undoubtedly if lucius had been alone in his struggle, she would have said: "for our mutual glory, for the extension of our power, go to the front." but giving antony his liberty, permitting her cherished lover to set foot on italian soil, meant giving him up to fulvia. ugly, coarse, and antipathetic though she was, better fitted to harangue troops than to inspire passion, nevertheless this bellona caused her a certain uneasiness. she knew her ambitions and was perfectly conscious of her despotic control of antony. under these conditions was it prudent, even for a few days, to deliver this precious hostage into her hands? weighing all considerations, love, that tyrant who knows no will save his own, gained his end. perugia, rome, the whole of italy might be burning, cleopatra would not give up her lover. the day before ahenobarbus, disappointed and disgusted, was to return to italy, a trifling incident changed the course of things. antony was depressed. his conscience troubled him; that conscience which he had ignored so long, but which, at certain memories, disturbed his peace. his old war comrade said nothing more, but his looks were full of reproach. "how shall i divert him?" thought cleopatra. "what amusement can i devise to protect him during this last day from the appeals of ahenobarbus?" she proposed a fishing party. both men accepted and the boats across the canal which led to the harbour of eunostus, carried them to lake mareotis. the reeds were rustling in the breeze, above the quiet water stretched a heaven of radiant blue. the buildings along the shore made red reflections in the lake as though they were on fire. the vessels anchored at the further end of the lake where, remote from noise and excitement, the carp had taken refuge in the quiet lapping of the waves. antony threw his line half a dozen times and caught nothing. this bad luck, especially before ahenobarbus, who was watching him with folded arms, increased his ill-humour. irritated and determined to catch the fish, or at least to seem to catch them, he whispered a word to eros. what he told him was to fasten to his own hook one of the largest fish that had been caught and to slip it skilfully under the water so that no one would suspect the trick. the queen, however, was not long fooled. she, too, knew how to play that game. she quickly concocted a plan that, unknown to eros, another attendant carried out. antony was again in high spirits. every time he drew in his line a large carp hung from his hook. he was overwhelmed with compliments on his astounding skill. all at once, just as he drew out a huge prize, there was a burst of laughter. the fish, this time, proved to be one that had been kept in brine to serve as bait. ordinarily antony would have been the first to join in the ridicule against himself, but in the presence of the dignified roman general he was annoyed and mortified. the party went home in silence. thinking this a good chance for a final effort, ahenobarbus waited until everyone had gone to his own apartment and then sought antony. "do you not realize that this is no place for you?" he demanded. "this child's play is fit only for women and eunuchs; but you, warrior, chief of the state, one of the three heads of the republic, when there are towns and continents waiting for your taking...." with the gesture habitual to him in moments of perplexity, antony put his elbow on his knee, his chin resting in his right hand, and stared at his friend. what was there to say? that fire that still burned in his veins flamed up, showing him the glorious goal toward which they had marched together. "i wish i might follow you!" he cried. "what is there to hinder you?" "how can you ask!" "is love so mighty then," gasped the old soldier, "that once in its thrall a man has no more power over himself?" they continued to talk. antony was ready to be persuaded. the light wound to his vanity made him sensitive to appeals to his honour. the future spread out before him. where would the life of a love-sick satrap lead him? suddenly he cried, grasping his friend's hand: "you are right; to-morrow i will go with you." and with a firm step he turned toward cleopatra's bedchamber. she was lying on a low couch, awaiting her lover, but she was more than usually eager for his coming this evening. he had been morose at supper. what had been the trouble? was he annoyed at the joke she had played on him? charmian was beside her, trying to comfort her. surely antony understood a joke! the soothing sound of the sea came in through the windows. just outside the curtain of her room antony heard the question: "do you believe he will always love me?" his heart was softened and he thought: "how can i hurt the most tender of women?" going in, he looked at her without speaking, and she asked: "what is it? of what are you thinking?" he hesitated. then, suddenly, like one who takes his courage in both hands, he cried: "beyond all question i must go away." she looked at him, incredulous. this was worse than all her fears. "go away! you are saying it to frighten me, because i teased you." "child," he ejaculated, "as though such a thing counted! i owe it to those who are fighting for me." cleopatra's heart sank. "you wish to be with your wife!" in spite of the gravity of the occasion antony could not help laughing. "you! jealous of fulvia!" after all, why should she not be jealous? the cause which this deserted wife was heading was not led by an ordinary woman. beautiful or hideous, with their storms, their upheavals, their tears, these passionate souls are the most dangerous rivals. cleopatra understood; she knew, better than any other woman, of what the heart is capable to protect or regain its loved one. and antony's temperament did not reassure her. at a distance from her, he would surely find in that other woman, that amazon, the very support that his wavering will unconsciously sought in all his relations with women. all these soul-torturing thoughts she put in her next demand: "you want me to die, then?" and, as though she were already nearing death, she fell back on her pillows, pale and sobbing. that was enough to shake his new-born resolution. antony was already wavering. bending over that dear face, which he had so often seen flushed with happiness, his only thought was to repair the damage his words had wrought. he would not leave her at once. he would get ahenobarbus to take his place and later, should it be necessary... cleopatra recovered immediately! "if it were necessary," she whispered, still trembling, and pressing his head against her bosom, "i should be the first to urge you to go. i desire your well-being, your glory far more than you do. but, believe me, your wife and your brother are fools. they are working only for their own interest. let them get out of this embarrassment, which they have brought about themselves, without any aid from you." antony was more than content to believe her. and that night there was no further question of their parting. other happy nights followed. the lovers were reunited, and behind those protecting ramparts that love builds they were oblivious of war, threats, everything. what matter if the world fell, so long as they were together? the gods, however, who favoured antony, combined this time to save him. at the moment when perugia, exhausted, was on the point of surrendering; when the army, headed by his brother and his wife, seeing no chance of the triumvir's coming, began to lose courage, fulvia suddenly fell ill and died. she had been the soul of the resisting army. with this support gone lucius was not strong enough to continue the fight against such heavy odds, and he sheathed his sword. thus, by unforeseen events, antony's absence, which had seemed so fatal, brought most excellent results. he had taken no part in the war and so could not be held responsible for it. consequently there would be no difficulty in making peace with octavius. he had only to disavow any political designs of his own. but he must at least go to negotiate this affair in person. with fulvia dead there was no further reason for cleopatra to oppose antony's temporary absence, or to feel any alarm in regard to it. she had borne him one child and another was coming. they had decided to celebrate their wedding in the spring and to legitimatize the children, as cæsar had done in the case of cæsarion. as though, however, the growlings of the crafty beast that lurks near perfect happiness were heard from afar, cleopatra still had certain apprehensions. what did she dread? she could not have defined it. the idea of consulting the oracles came to her. perhaps they would explain that mysterious danger against which her whole being rebelled. here, as at rome, the long-bearded augurs sought to unravel the secrets of the future by studying the sacred books, observing the flight of birds and examining the entrails of the victims. as claros, curnes, and tibur had their sybils, delphi her pythian priestess, so alexandria had a college of celebrated astrologers. these famous men not only gave their nights to the study of the heavens (they knew the laws that governed the stars and they gave the constellations the names that they bear to-day) but their science pretended to be able to question these stars and to obtain information from them. each celestial body represented a divinity who influenced the birth and life of mortals, and its vivid brilliancy in the height of happiness was dimmed by the approach of disaster. after nightfall, when it was entirely dark, cleopatra, accompanied by a slave, climbed the one hundred and twenty steps which led to the highest terrace. sisogenus, the great compiler of horoscopes, who had been advised of her visit, was awaiting her. with outstretched arms and his forehead in the dust he saluted her three times. "what does the daughter of amoun-ra seek of an insignificant being?" she explained her wish to know the destiny of mark antony. in a few days the triumvir would be in latin territory once more. what fate awaited him there? was there anything to fear in regard to him? before replying, the sage, draped in yellow, his sleeves and high cap adorned with a row of bells which rang as he moved, traced some signs on the sand of the terrace; then, in an attitude of ecstasy, his body bent back, his palms outspread, he searched the starry vault. myriads of golden points pricked the sombre blue, and their reflections in the sea were like a shower of diamonds. sisogenus suddenly seized his wand and pointed to a star. he had recognized the planet under which antony was born. "there!" he cried, "clear and brilliant it is approaching its zenith." but presently the star grew dim. it drew near another star. a moment later the latter seemed to fade away and the first shone again in its original, magnificent splendour. cleopatra was much impressed by this phenomenon, the more so on hearing that it was octavius's star which had made antony's pale. this experience was conclusive. it was undeniably true that by their natures these two men were opposed to each other, and that antony should, in all matters, distrust his colleague and avoid him. when she brought him the horoscope antony was the more impressed by it because of a vision which had disturbed his slumber. in his dream he had been walking in a field of flowers. all at once he had a sensation of resistance, as though a barrier had been placed in his path. after a hard struggle he waked suddenly, covered with sweat, as though he had just escaped some grave peril. antony would not have been of his age and country if he had ignored such a warning. no latin was indifferent to these things. a sneeze, a burning of the ears, had their meaning. a fall, the swelling of the little finger, were regarded as evil omens. if he saw a flight of crows on leaving the house, the prudent man returned home and carried out no business that day. if, on the contrary, a swarm of bees welcomed him as he stepped out into the golden sunshine, he was safe in any undertaking, for they brought good luck! naturally, when such importance was attached to insignificant things, the signs of the heavens were pregnant with meaning. if antony had deferred his going it would have brought only unhappiness to cleopatra and himself, for stronger than all dreams was a voice which warned them that the better part of their romance was over. would they ever again find time to give themselves up entirely to the joys of love? that careless rapture which passionate youth brings was ended. different obligations would separate them, perhaps indefinitely. antony's position called him back to his duty. that peace with octavius, if it were accomplished, would solve only one of the new difficulties which had arisen. the parthians had to be subdued, order must be established in asia minor; many things demanded his attention. already, with the putting on of his armour, the imperator felt like his old self; he heard the clarion call with pleasure and his gay, child-like smile had vanished. he left his cup half filled with wine. cleopatra was unhappy; she had more to dread from the coming separation. a sorrowful expression came into her eyes when she looked at her lover, and, in spite of herself, in spite of his repeated promises that he would return before the end of the year, bitter grief wrung her heart. when the day came, although she was faint from weeping, she insisted on going down to the ship with him. a fresh wind was coming up from the east. the ruffled sea was covered with long white wings, wings which would carry off her happiness. if she could only keep him with her! but poor human desires have never for a single moment deferred the coming disaster. the ship's sails were set; the three ranks of rowers had taken their places, and fifty ebony arms were about to strike the water. leaning over the edge of the rampart, which ran along the side of the _heptastadium_, cleopatra was repeating softly the tender farewells which her hand waved to antony. just as the ship left the quay she cried: "remember the stars!" if antony had been torn at this time by the revengeful passion which inflamed him the day after the ides of march, or by the hate which possessed him later--too late--and which was to set him, weakened, against an enemy who had grown powerful, he would undoubtedly have gained the mastery of octavius, and the fate of the world would have been changed. but the time that he had spent at alexandria had sapped his primitive instincts, and the fighting power that was one of the savage beauties of his nature had lost its freshness. instead of returning to italy with the fierce enthusiasm essential to victory, his mind was absorbed in egyptian magic; his chief idea was to bring about peace as quickly as possible so that he might be free to go back. octavius, also, wanted an amicable adjustment of the disturbances which the family antonius had brought about, but from totally different motives. he was occupied with more serious things. pompey was in command of several legions who were bound to him through loyalty to the glorious memory of his father. he had taken these to sardinia and was superintending the piracy of a fleet whose object was to starve out the latin coasts. if antony, with the sixteen legions which he had in macedonia, and the fast fleet which the rhodians had built for him, were to form an alliance with this new antagonist, octavius would inevitably be defeated. it is a truism that fear makes men both cruel and cowardly. in the present instance it caused octavius to take outrageous reprisals from the vanquished perugians and made him a lamb in the presence of antony. he had never been really at ease with his herculean colleague. all that antony stood for in beauty, pride, and happiness was secret gall and bitterness to him. though quite as well versed in debauchery, his weakness made him despair of ever attaining the graceful, easy bearing which made antony so attractive. he felt, too, the indifference of his soldiers toward him, compared with the feeling that his opponent inspired among his men; their devotion was such that they preferred serving under him without pay to being well paid for marching against him. feeling the scantiness of his ammunition, compared with antony's abundant resources, he had concluded at the outset that it would be wiser to have antony for a friend than an enemy, and to-day again he said to himself: "though it cost me the one hundred million sesterces that he has stolen from the heritage of cæsar, yet i will make this man my ally." both sides then were ready to come to terms. their followers were as eager for it as the chief combatants themselves, for after so much grief, agitation, and bloodshed, all the world thirsted for peace. antony's friends were awaiting him at brindisi. they had no difficulty in persuading him to repulse the revolutionary proposals of pompey and to come to an understanding with octavius. this latter offered cyrenaica, which had been included in lepidus's share, in exchange for gaul, which originally had been allotted to antony in the division of territory. anxious to go to asia, where his most important interests lay, antony selected asinius pollion to look after his affairs in italy. the latter's tact and knowledge qualified him to deal with mæcenas, octavius's delegate, and antony gave him full power. it would be time to sign the papers when he returned from asia. antony's haste to plant his eagles in the orient was because cleopatra had persuaded him to regard these provinces as their common property, the rich area that was destined to supplant ancient, impoverished europe and to become that world-empire which they had planned to establish together. to drive out the parthians and procure the gold necessary to content his soldiers, who were his chief support, was of infinitely greater importance than to dispute fragments of territory with octavius and lepidus. antony, as always when impelled by his strong instinct as a leader, showed his usual masterful decision, quickness, and courage. he immediately took palestine from pacoros and reëstablished herod there; punished the towns which had massacred their garrisons, put labienus to flight, destroyed the gates of lamanos, and took possession of syria. these victories recalled the days of his untrammelled youth, and roused that enthusiastic energy which so often followed his periods of inertia. his friends, knowing this complete metamorphosis, had reckoned accordingly. they persuaded him to put on his imperator's cuirass while they were laying the cornerstone of a new triumvirate, saying among themselves: "we shall gain time in this way"; for they had their own plans. they thought that a marriage would serve the double purpose of making the desired treaty binding and also would keep him from going back to his mistress; so they had arranged to bring about a union between him and the sister of octavius. they knew that although death had fortunately taken away fulvia, the main obstacle had not gone with her. they understood perfectly that "the courtesan of the nile," as in their hate and scorn they designated cleopatra, was still there, beguiling, regal, clothed with her indescribable charm. but absence, for the time being, lessened her power, and by this absence they were determined to profit. antony's return was the propitious moment to bring about the union of the two triumvirs by means of the most pleasing of women. the important thing was to arrange this skilfully and without undue haste. the sun on that day shone over rome not with the metallic brilliance which cut hard outlines in the levantine landscape, but gently, delicately, with fleece-like clouds that softened the light. among its flowery hills the ancient city lay in quiet dignity; its low houses clustered around its temples seemed like a family group. from the first moment that antony trod the streets, filled with sacred memories; when, on the border of the river, he looked again at the place where he had gathered the ashes of cæsar from the funeral pyre; when he heard the great voices of the forum welcoming him--his heart quivered with an emotion that he had not felt for a long time. whatever joys might thrill him elsewhere, no other place in the world could give him the inexpressible happiness of feeling that he was at home. rome, it was the birthplace of his fathers; the air that he breathed there stirred and exhilarated him like that on a mountain top. the blood ran through his veins richer, fuller, as though all that of his forebears had joined the flood. in this frame of mind octavia's attractions were naturally very powerful. although not radiantly beautiful, her modest, winning carriage represented all that to the latin mind signified the guardian of the home. her face was oval, rather long, the type which the artists of the renaissance chose in painting their madonnas. her dreamy eyes were shaded by long lashes, and her masses of hair, whose regular braids encircled her forehead, rested there like a crown. no more striking contrast could have been found than that between this sweet, gracious woman and the implacable fulvia; unless in comparing the warm seductions of cleopatra with the diaphanous delicacy, the sensitive shadows, which enveloped the sister of octavius. the young woman had been married once. the short time that she had lived with marcellus, for whom she still wore a widow's veil, had been filled with love, peace, and fruitfulness, and was indicative of what life would be at her side. it was on her discretion and deep-seated kindliness that the friends of antony and octavius alike had relied, hoping to make of her arms an arch of peace which would unite the two columns of the world. her domestic virtues alone would have insured its solidity. at a time when baseness was rampant, when selfish fear engendered cowardice, when treason entered even into the heart of family life, she had many times shown her intrinsic qualities, her generous, human, kindly soul. her gentle influence over her brother had frequently saved the victims of his wrath. her friend, tullia, owed the life of thoranius, her idolized husband, to her intervention. he had been sentenced to death more than a month and was awaiting the hour of his execution. all tullia's prayers had been in vain and the time was at hand. what could be done to save the unfortunate man? public opinion was not in favour of his condemnation, but, debased as it was, what means could it take to express its disapproval? octavia was fearless. one evening when the imperator was expected at the theatre, she prepared a device. at the moment when he entered his box, dressed in purple and surrounded by lictors, a curtain rose and by the side of a young woman weeping there appeared a phantom loaded with chains. cries of "mercy, mercy," resounded on every side. what each individual would have feared to ask, the crowd demanded. the future augustus was too weak to go counter to the voice of the people. he raised his right hand. the cause was won! octavia's presence had the effect on antony of grateful shade. never since childhood had he been associated with such a wholesome, comforting personality. the idea of making his home with her gave him a qualm of conscience. if only he had met her earlier he would undoubtedly have been a different man. his way of living would not have become so debased. but, as he was to-day, how could he change his habits? how reach her level? deluded by an apparently newly gained liberty, he said to himself: "who knows, it may not be too late!" the next moment the image of the egyptian sorceress came to him, forbidding any happiness save with her in the alternate fever and ecstasy which her love created. octavia was thoroughly familiar with mark antony's past life. desirous, as he was, of combining their political interests, her brother, who was devoted to her, had not concealed from her the risks involved in a marriage with cleopatra's lover. he could not bring himself to praise a man so entirely opposite in character to himself. fundamentally honest and careful of her future as octavia was, she might, by these warnings, have been spared such a perilous adventure; but she had a brave heart under her outward shyness. her youth longed to taste the sweets of passion as well as the quiet joys of life. from their very first interview she had been irresistibly drawn toward the tyrant that antony was to be in her life. it would not be possible, she thought while admiring his splendid contour and his bright smile, for such a man to be false. if he had yielded to temptations it was because those near him had failed to bind him with that cord of tenderness which can restrain the lion. this was the pathetic mistake of virtue, confident of its own power; that fatal attraction which makes gentle hearts the prey of strong, full-blooded men, and impels them to yield to those who will become their masters and their ruin. octavia's illusion continued for some time. the marriage began auspiciously with that real happiness which was unknown to antony and afforded him pleasure by its novelty. in his wife's eyes, he was a traveller who had seen many countries, destroyed many forests, and whose wounded feet were grateful for repose. he had exchanged his flaming paradise for this innocent love in which he was a novice, and for some time he was happy in the new experience. as to his young wife, she felt that the charm of completed cycles was hers, and that she had found the secret which makes the spring sweet and gives fragrance to the flowers. her heart was full to overflowing and she had no other desire than to fulfil her husband's lightest wish. with instinctive knowledge, she divined his thought and carried out his fancy before he had time even to stretch out his hand. one day when they were walking together he admired the palace that pompey had built on the appian way and expressed regret that so beautiful a place remained empty. she immediately obtained permission from her brother to have the ban lifted and offered the palace, filled with its wonderful treasures, to antony. although her own tastes up to the present moment had been simple, she thought no frame too spacious or too rich for her husband. how could this omphale, consumed with faithful devotion, foresee that this palace would seem a prison to antony before the first year of their marriage had gone by? her tenderness and devotion were so all-absorbing that the atmosphere soon became stifling to antony, who felt that his arms were wide enough to embrace an infinity of delights. full of strength and imagination, this grandson of hercules felt cramped in the network of tradition, and rome, which had looked so magnificent on the day of his triumphal return, had taken again its real proportions, which, in comparison with the magnificence of alexandria's sumptuous buildings, obelisks, and columns, seemed like those of a market town. its austere customs, narrow views, and prejudices irritated him. antony was bored. what had become of those joyous songs whose golden-winged fancies had cradled his life in the past two years? the association with octavius was intolerable. whereas the men who had brought about their reconciliation were delighted at seeing them apparently working together in harmony, issuing decrees, reviewing troops, or united at the family table, they themselves were conscious of a fermenting mutual hatred. it was inevitable between two men equal in rank, sharing an authority which caused perpetual friction. whether acting for the state, or in the smallest detail of private life, everything was a subject of dispute. when the roman people, emotional and easily excited, applauded one or the other of the triumvirs, or showed the least sign of approval of his acts, the demon of jealousy arose. even the games, in which they sometimes sought diversion, led to disagreements, for neither of the two could stand having the other one win. the dice on several occasions having been favourable to antony, octavius claimed that they were loaded. one evening they entertained their guests with a pair of fighting cocks, and the customary stakes were laid. once, twice, three times octavius's cock won. antony was white with rage. he left the room abruptly and even octavia's pleading was powerless to bring him back that evening. trifling as such wounds were, their daily occurrence was like mosquito bites which finally poison the entire system. their relations, never cordial, grew definitely worse. antony showed always the more decided enmity. confident, as he was, that the first place should belong to him, he was irritated by any interference, especially when octavius was given precedence over him. upon the least pretext the words of the egyptian oracle would come back to him: "keep away from your rival. whenever you come together your star will be eclipsed by his. in the orient alone will your star have its full radiance." even had he tried to forget these ominous words, the diviners, astrologers, all the clique with which cleopatra had secretly surrounded him, kept them constantly in his mind. the longing to get away from this annoying comparison haunted him. his one object was to leave rome and return to the land where he could find that preëminence so indispensable to his masterful nature. to be the chief, the one whose commands all the world obeyed! to look out on unlimited space and to say to himself: "no one can contend with me for the tiniest morsel of it!" those dreams which pride evolves to tempt the covetous mind! only a great victory could upset the equality of power and exalt one of the triumvirs above the other two. this antony determined to win. the colossal vision of making the orient his military and political centre, and of founding an immense empire of which he would be the sole sovereign, appealed to him more than ever. it was reviving cæsar's chimera, that chimera which, in an age where venality reigned, would supply him gold in abundance. but could he carry it out to a glorious victory? to begin with, he must expel the parthian invaders who infested the frontiers, then establish himself beyond the euphrates and gain the mastery of persia. the plans for this daring campaign were already drawn; they had been laid out in the minutest details by the conqueror of gaul. antony, who had been in cæsar's confidence during his latter days, had only to take possession of them. the only change that he needed to make was in the choice of a city to supplant rome. alexandria apparently had been selected by cæsar, who on the eve of this great enterprise had been wholly absorbed in cleopatra. this same alexandria had shone in antony's eyes as his future capital while he was with cleopatra and they were elaborating their plans. but to-day, in the house ruled by the virtuous octavia, even the name of egypt was abhorrent. he thought of athens. like all women really in love, octavia would rather have kept her husband at her side. to lean on his breast was happiness enough for her tender heart. when antony unfolded his ambitious projects she felt as though joy were about to leave her fireside for ever, and that the future held for her only sorrow and disappointment. but she was too sensible not to realize that action is the law of great lives, and that to love a conqueror entails lonely melancholy. even her brother, enamoured as he was of his bride, livia, pricked by this spur of supremacy, had just left to do battle with the pirates of sextus pompey. octavia accepted antony's departure like a submissive wife, but exacted a promise that after the birth of her child he would allow her to join him in greece. a sensation of escape, such as a ship feels when freed from her moorings, thrilled antony's heart the moment he passed the mole and saw the port of ostia growing fainter in the distance. he was free. in vain he tried to repress this feeling of exultation. it was useless. he remembered his wife's gracious goodness, the love she showered on him, the real affection that he had for her, and he was filled with self-reproach. but he could not control his delight; he was enchanted to have loosed his shackles. to be back again in the fight, to be working out his own destiny, was like waking up after a long spell of drowsiness. athens afforded him the exquisite pleasure of being the cynosure of all eyes; the delight of receiving, without having to share them, the keys of power; its submission, its homage. the greeks had preserved an indelible memory of his personality. they admired his beauty, his military genius, his strength. a warrior primarily, they knew him also as a patron of art who respected their traditions. his pilgrimage to the summit of the acropolis, made on foot and clothed in the national pallium, had endeared him to all hearts. whatever reports had come to them since, their original conviction was unaltered: mark antony was a demigod. they lavished titles and honours upon him. a chorus of dancing girls offered him the thyrsus of bacchus crowned with leaves, and fêtes were held everywhere, as at the celebration of the nabathæans. this delirium of flattery passed all bounds and ended in absurdity. they offered this new bacchus the hand of the virgin athene who stood before the parthenon, armed with the gold helmet and lance of the olympian games. antony, secretly amused, pretended to take this seriously. "i will accept this offer of marriage," he said, "provided my spouse brings me a million drachmas." the sycophants were caught in the trap. they carried on the game. it was a severe lesson, however, and one of them, the high priest charged with supplying this money from the treasury of the temple, could not restrain himself from saying: "zeus himself did not demand so much to become the lover of your mother, semele!" in the whirl of these extravagant espousals octavia was apparently forgotten; but she made no protest. there is distinction in sharing honours with a goddess. she only asked to be allowed to come and play her part in the comedy. the athenians were no fools. they received her enthusiastically, and pretended to honour her as the living image of athene. there were festivals, entertainments, banquets, and in order to make them as gorgeous as he desired antony had only to copy those that he had revelled in at alexandria. once again he was living the life of an oriental sovereign and, robed in purple, shod with sandals of gold, his forehead bound with fillets, he employed his leisure time in presiding over the athletic games, watching the races and wrestling matches, the lance- and disc-throwing. octavia awarded the prizes, and happy, united, with no thought of the morrow, they both enjoyed their gracious sovereignty. spring had come again. antony watched the budding branches of the sacred laurel and drank of the fountain of clepsydra. the oracles that he had consulted had promised him a triumph. he was eager to take his place at the head of the troops, who, under the command of ventidius, were awaiting him in epirus. the campaign opened brilliantly. a succession of uninterrupted victories by the advance-guard seemed to indicate that the invasion of persia would be simply a military procession. success at this time meant all the more because octavius was then fighting his own battles on the shores of sicily. these were golden hours for antony; hours when the thought "the world with its kingdoms will be mine," came to him repeatedly. this illusion made him careless in replying to messages from his brother-in-law. secure himself, he was rejoicing in the difficulties of octavius and had no desire whatever to send to his assistance the noble rhodian fleet for which he was clamouring. octavia felt very differently. if her passionate love had thrown her into antony's arms, it had in no way lessened her warm affection for her brother. her loyalty, even had she not cared for octavius, would have made her remember that one of the chief reasons for her marriage with antony had been to forward the interests of both. up to the present time she had only been called upon to adjust slight disagreements between them. to-day, however, conditions were different; indeed, the very supremacy of the two rulers was at stake. they envied each other, they hated each other, and between these opposing forces her gentle personality was in imminent danger of being crushed. why had the gods so cruelly put this grain of wheat between two millstones? after driving out antiochus, antony returned from syria. he was drunk with the exultation of victory and his wife decided that this would be a propitious moment to present her petition to him. she went to ephesus to meet him, accompanied by ahenobarbus, who deplored the dissension between the triumvirs and predicted dire consequences. antony's first greeting was so full of affection that she was led to believe that her influence over the conqueror was not wholly lost. with the tenderest caution, but firmly, as her conscience demanded, she asked why he still kept the fleet in the harbour instead of despatching it to her brother's assistance. quite apart from their signed contract, was he unmindful of the fact that he might have need of reinforcements in the heart of asia, even as octavius was needing these ships? this refusal to send one might later cut him off from the other. why did they not coöperate? her eminently rational appeal made little impression on antony, for he felt himself invincible. he knew that a rupture was inevitable, and left to himself he probably would have brought it about at once, but he was touched by octavia's tears. he had always been easily moved by women, and after yielding to those who made tempestuous demands upon him, it seemed only fair that, for once in his life, he should heed this messenger of peace. "go," he commanded, "make terms with octavius, but remember, before all else, that you are the wife of antony!" greater difficulties than she had looked for awaited her in arranging matters with her brother. exasperated by the evidently evil intentions of antony, he decided that such an ally was as dangerous as an enemy, and that while awaiting the supreme decision it was as well to learn to be independent. aided by agrippa, who was showing his authority on all maritime matters, he commenced to build a fleet. the port of tarentum was full of excitement. well-paid carpenters and caulkers were busy night and day, singing as they worked. the noise of hammers and hatchets resounded. the rhythmic ringing of the anvil was broken by the cries of the fishmongers and bargemen. it was in the midst of this strenuous labour that octavia arrived to hold conference with her brother. as she drew near, he was surrounded by engineers to whom he was giving endless orders, and the welcome he accorded her was, unlike his usual greeting, defiant rather than cordial. "what do you wish? why are you here?" "i am only a little ahead of the fleet which antony has put at your disposal." "it is too late," replied octavius curtly, "in three months my own ships will be on the high seas." that first repulse was hard to bear. it killed the hope of bringing about a reconciliation which octavia had built on her brother's embarrassments. but she was not a woman to be easily baulked. the mission that she had undertaken filled her with invincible courage and tenacity. through life and death she would carry it out. she now defended her husband's actions as valiantly as she had those of her brother when pleading with her husband. if antony had delayed, it was because he had been surrounded by such countless difficulties that he had lost count of time. the moment that she had reminded him of the need for action he had answered: "i am ready to go." he would be there in a few days. but the deeply furrowed brow of octavius, marked with premature wrinkles between his black eyebrows, was not so easily smoothed as antony's had been. the masterful will which enveloped them both like a cuirass had no fissure in his case. octavia saw that her efforts to defend her husband were futile, and as her excuses had really little foundation she began to plead her own cause. "if you give way to anger," she said, looking tenderly at her brother, "if sword and lance cross, no one can tell who will be the victor. there is only one certainty and that is that i, wife or sister of the vanquished, will spend the rest of my life in tears!" was he touched by this woman's gentle plea? or did he in the bottom of his heart feel that if he repulsed antony's advances the latter would ally himself with their mutual enemy sextus pompey? be that as it may, urged by his two good geniuses, agrippa and mæcenas, octavius yielded and consented to an agreement. anchored in the bay of piræus, antony was awaiting his brother-in-law's decision. as soon as he got the report from ahenabarbus he set sail with the two hundred and twenty triremes which were his pride and his strength. their arrival at tarentum had a tremendous effect. when octavius first caught sight of them in the distance, their snowy sails seeming to cover the face of the waters, enveloped in the silvery foam splashed up by the oars, he had the conviction that however numerous and powerful his own future fleet might be, these splendid ships, all new, well equipped, and well armed, would be a most valuable addition to his navy. but he could not foresee that those same ships, those slender craft, would one day turn against antony and decide the victory of actium. and antony, still wrapped in his own illusions, had no power to look so far into the future. in his ardour to begin that famous campaign through which he expected to be the master of the world, he was absorbed in his dreams of the six gallic legions, made up of expert archers, trained foot-soldiers, strong cavalrymen, that he was to obtain in exchange for part of his fleet. the negotiations were long and complicated, as each side desired to secure the greatest possible benefit from the arrangement and accord a minimum in return. unaided by the gentle octavia, who went back and forth bearing the olive branch, it is doubtful if they would ever have come to an understanding. while agrippa and mæcenas on one side, and ahenobarbus and pollion on the other, discussed, dissected, picked over, one by one, the ships and soldiers that constituted the coin of that terrible market, a plaintive refrain could be heard. "war, more war!" groaned octavia, "will you transform me from the happiest woman in the world to the most miserable?" and regularly every morning she went to the temple of vesta, where she lighted at the sacred candelabra as many tapers as there were prayers in her heart. in granting the prayers of the loving sister and faithful wife, the goddess softened the hearts of the two adversaries. each having weighed the relative advantage that he would gain by certain concessions, they both assumed a grand air of magnanimity. they pretended that neither of them wanted to grieve the one who formed such a close bond between them and that her little hand should disarm them. a new agreement was made, prolonging the triumvirate for five years. this modern sabine woman in raising the golden cup to drink to them that evening, might truthfully have said: "i have preserved the peace of the world!" vii the marriage at antioch leaning on the parapet, within sound of the waves that lapped against the quai, cleopatra watched the ship that was carrying off her lover grow smaller in the distance. when the highest mast had disappeared beneath the horizon, she let her hand fall; the hand that had been waving a handkerchief since the ship had weighed anchor. her throat contracted and the tears ran down her cheeks. the sea, in shades of green and amethyst, spread out before her like a piece of silk unrolled. it was perfectly calm, yet that wide gulf which separated her from antony was full of terror for her. she turned to charmian: "what does life hold for me now? he who meant all my happiness has gone. without his loving glance, the sound of his merry laughter, i shall have no joy in living." the ideal confidante is one who makes her friend's grief her own. although charmian had deplored her mistress's relations with antony and had felt, from the outset, that he would bring only misery to her beloved lady, yet she now feigned deep sorrow. "the triumvir's absence will make the bruchium seem an empty palace, but he will not tarry long away from you, my queen. even as he stepped on board the ship i heard him promise to return before the year is ended." cleopatra did not doubt his prompt return, for hope filled her veins, as the sap runs strong in the young tree in full leaf. but summer had barely begun, the days would drag along very slowly. thus talking, under the protecting shade of ivory-handled fans held over them by two negro slaves, they went back to the terrace. the queen stopped every few steps, for there were memories of antony at each turn. there was the rose-coloured ibis, one leg tucked out of sight, who, motionless and quite tame, was standing on the grass, apparently lost in thought. the aromatic perfume of the carnations made her sigh, remembering that each night antony had plucked one in passing, touched it to his lips, and put it in her bosom, saying: "i give you all my heart." and when he was not near to embrace her she always felt the warm fragrance of the flower as she breathed, like lips pressing against her breast. nothing is more cruel in the absence of a loved one than the constant reminders of shared joys. "antony, come back to me, my beloved!" she cried in a sudden spasm of loneliness. "you care too much, madame. no living man is worthy of such love." "it is easy to see, charmian, that nothing has troubled the calm waters of your soul! do you imagine that love is measured by the worthiness of the beloved? if that were true i could have loved no one so much as cæsar; yet, as you know, antony is the only one who has filled my whole soul." she approached the fountain, where the water ran like living crystal and broke into foam at the basin's edge. the falling water brought the thought of the flying time that was taking away her happiness. would those blissful days ever come again, or were they, like yesterday's flow of water, lost for ever? anxious to divert her from things which by their very charm were depressing, charmian said gently: "will you not come now and try to sleep, madame? to-morrow surely will bring you fresh courage." cleopatra had her royal robes laid aside, swallowed a draught of nepenthes to induce slumber, and said, as she closed her eyes: "if i could only sleep on until he comes again!" life had to go on, however; four, five, six months, or more, would pass before antony's return and cleopatra was not the woman to give herself up to idle lamentations. leaving the mourning veil and ashes to dido of old, she resumed her sumptuous life and the royal routine of her daily duties. many things which had been neglected during those months of infatuation with her lover now claimed her attention. she took note of all the buildings, ships, and gardens in need of repair and saw that they were thoroughly overhauled and set in order. her ministers were astonished to see how altogether conversant she was with the problems of state, and those who had thought her given over to frivolity were amazed with the way she handled the finances of the government. she was equally proficient in reorganizing the army after the model of the legions which antony had left with her; in adding to the marine service and in improving the administration generally. as reigning sovereign, she set to work to improve the condition of her people; guarded against famine by irrigating the lands with fertilizing floods from the nile; drove off the nabathæan tribes who were threatening the arabian frontier, showing that the ruler of egypt, woman though she was, was the equal of the great kings of the world. like all her ancestors she had a love for building. she went from city to city with a host of architects, engineers, and artists, to see that the old temples were kept in proper repair. those at edfu, hermonthis, and coptis were rebuilt under her direction. the one at dendera, which she enlarged, still shows her portrait carved on its tablets. she restored the library at alexandria and began the cæsarium, whose excavated ruins reveal her admiration for greek art. the last of the obelisks was erected during her reign: that cleopatra's needle, which, two thousand years later, was transported to the borders of the thames, and now mournfully lifts its once rosy sides to the sooty skies of the british metropolis. all these activities, however, could not make cleopatra forget the aching void in her heart. in the midst of ceremonials, festivals, travels, she was continually asking herself: "what has become of antony? where is he? has he forgotten me?" separation between lovers is endurable only if there is a steady interchange of letters. when antony first left egypt a galley came from brindisi every ten days bringing long letters. in the beginning these were infinitely tender, filled with the solicitous grief that showed his anxiety in his absence. they reëchoed every expression of devotion which cleopatra's letters contained. "waking and sleeping you are always with me. i seek your presence everywhere and i feel that you are near," he wrote repeatedly. he said that public affairs were going forward satisfactorily and announced that, in order to hasten his return, he intended to put these in pollion's care, as he understood all the details concerning them, while he himself was going at once to syria and palestine to reëstablish the authority which his long absence had compromised. since he could not be with her, cleopatra much preferred having her lover in asia minor. that was where they were to come together again, in that country so like her own in climate, customs, habits of dress and tastes. there he would be reminded of her at every turn, whereas in italy everything was different. by one of those unfailing feminine instincts, she felt that in rome some unlooked-for turn of events would bring her disaster. she had never seen octavius, but the fact that he was cæsar's heir made him the rival and enemy of her little cæsarion. anything that occurred in italy aroused her suspicion, and she could only hope that antony, easily led and trustful as he was, would never fail to be on his guard. cleopatra's various enterprises were interrupted, for the time being, by the birth of twins, to whom she gave the somewhat pretentious names of helios and selene. it seemed the propitious moment to remind antony of the projected marriage which they had planned together and which was essential for the future protection of these children. he responded by joyous and elaborate felicitations, saying that he was eager to legitimatize his claim to fatherhood as soon as possible. in confirmation of this assurance his messenger brought the young mother a coffer of carved gold, containing two pearls of perfect shape and wonderful orient, with the written words: "my lips have covered these with kisses, as i should love to cover your beautiful breasts, which are moulded in their likeness." such demonstrations made cleopatra very happy. she loved--she was loved. that was enough for the present, and the future stretched before her like a flaming torch. then antony's letters began to come less frequently. but what of that? he had left the coast; he was in the interior of the country, absorbed in necessary military details which left him little leisure for writing. besides, he was remote from cities and consequently not exposed to the temptations of town life; why should she have any fears? her confidence that all was well was confirmed by the arrival of a roman galley, sent from asia, about the middle of the autumn. it brought neither gifts nor the customary sealed roll which the queen was in the habit of seeing in the messenger's hand long before he reached her side. this time a courier came, requesting an audience with her. cleopatra's heart throbbed with hope and fear. her eyes sought those of the man who had so recently looked on her lover. "how long since you have seen the imperator?" she demanded. "twenty days, madame." "where was he then?" "at samosata, on the border of the commagene." her eager questions followed each other breathlessly. "how did he look? was he sad or gay? what did he say to you? what message has he sent to me?" this courier, menecratus, was a freedman who had antony's confidence, and whom long association with the imperator had trained in the art of making a pleasing impression. he had abundant tact and discretion, an ideal interpreter for his master. he gave the following account to the queen: "when i went to receive the imperator's orders he was neither sad nor gay. his face was radiant with that divine energy which is seen in the visage of mars. the country all around him showed the marks of war. there were chariots, mules, troops of soldiers, shields glittering in the sun. he was holding the bridle of his fierce charger, which he was about to mount, in one hand; the other was on the pommel of his saddle. 'by the sacred geese which fly over the capitol,' he said, 'go and report what you have seen. tell cleopatra that mark antony goes forth to conquer new kingdoms that he will soon lay at her feet.'" so once again cleopatra was comforted. her lover was fighting for her sake; he was preparing for their future. victory was in his path, and soon he would come back to her, so crowned with glory, so powerful in his conquests, that nothing, no one, could prevent the fulfilment of their magnificent plans. the winter mists, however, were now obscuring the sea; all navigation was suspended. for more than three months there had been no tidings from antony. the faith of cleopatra was woven of a tissue so fragile that constant renewing was needed to keep the fabric whole. she was overwhelmed by a melancholy dread of possible disaster. the final date of his return was approaching. if he were not there! as she had no actual reasons to explain this persistent silence she tormented herself with the most rueful theories. he was the victim of poisoned arrows, a fatal fall, shipwreck; all these filled her imagination with depressing visions. she could not bear to be alone for a moment. either iras or charmian was required to be in constant attendance. she kept them under a perpetual fire of questions, as an outlet for her own fears. "the end of the year is close at hand, my charmian. why have i no word of his return?" "without doubt, madame, he is planning to give you a happy surprise." the beautiful young athenian girl spent hours at the feet of her mistress, her violet eyes fixed upon the queen's anxious face, trying to reassure her. but as the weary days dragged on and no news came, the ominous menace, that seemed to threaten her from afar, drew nearer and the queen was more difficult to comfort. one day she caught at iras's hand, as though a sudden fear had come to her: "can he have ceased to care for me? has he put another woman in my place?" "but madame, he has known cleopatra, what other woman could he find to take your place?" replied the persian girl. these fancies, vague at first, were now becoming cruel certainties. travellers from rome reported that antony had returned from asia, made his peace with octavius, and the price of that peace was also known! the tragic scene in which cleopatra learns of her lover's marriage; the tears and passion which shakespeare describes in words that make his stage a living world, leave nothing more to be told. by the silence, that interminable silence, which surrounded her, the queen at last comprehended that dire misfortune had come to her. her attendants tried to keep the truth back. no one of them could muster courage to speak. was the news so horrible? her mind leaped to the most terrible thing of all: "is he dead? has death frozen the warmest heart that ever throbbed?" "no, no, madame," charmian cried, "antony is alive, he is well." the queen breathed again, but the dreaded disaster rushed to her mind. he had deserted her, then. her agonized eyes put the question that her lips could not frame. no one answered. everyone turned away and charmian stammered incoherently. "iras, tell me, what is it?" "there is nothing known definitely, madame." "but i insist on knowing definitely and at once," said cleopatra, in a tone that suffered no denial. the man who had brought the tidings was summoned. he proved to be a merchant, in alexandria on his own business. he had gossiped, as all travellers do, bringing news from one town to the next. he was puzzled at being called to the palace. "what is this tale? speak out," commanded the queen. her look was terrifying. but the man had no sense of responsibility in repeating a story which was the subject of general discussion in rome. "antony is married?" on hearing of this wedding with octavia, which had been celebrated with the utmost pomp and magnificence, cleopatra was beside herself with rage. her pride, her dignity, her position, were as nothing. she was practically delirious with fury. she looked wildly around for someone on whom to wreak her vengeance. those who were nearest to her shrank back in terror. it was the unfortunate wretch, whose only crime had been to bear ill-tidings, on whom her wrath fell. he was cursed, beaten, threatened with death. it was the natural outburst of her passionate nature, accustomed to command all, and who, for the first time, was confronted by overpowering misfortune and injury. was there no refuge from her torment? could not the laws of the universe be altered? the first moments were horrible; a burst of tears followed her access of rage and she fainted. the servants fled, filling the whole palace with wailings. the doctors pressed forward, as though to aid someone in mortal need. charmian was at her side. "for the love of the gods, madame, do not give your enemies the joy of seeing you crushed by this sorrow. do not let them know how this blow has pierced your heart!" "my queen, my queen, be brave!" whispered iras, holding a handkerchief with some drops of stimulant to cleopatra's lips. gradually she grew calmer; she regained her self-control, but the wild frenzy was succeeded by a stupor. she felt as though a bottomless abyss had opened suddenly at her feet. "how can this be?" she murmured dully. "i trusted him and he told me that i meant all the world to him!" her thoughts turned to the woman who had stolen her happiness. that sister of octavius, octavia--what kind of creature was she? the fierce desire to know the whole truth, in all its bitter details, surged in her breast, with the same violence that had caused her to pour out the stream of threats and curses so short a while before. but the traveller was nowhere to be seen. taking advantage of the confusion that followed the queen's fainting fit he had fled. a diligent search revealed him, hidden in the hold of a ship. he had taken refuge there, deciding to give up the affairs that had brought him to alexandria and, thankful to escape with his life, was hoping to get away on the ship without being detected. he was terrified at being caught and it took repeated assurances that he would not be further punished to induce him to speak again. fear had taught him discretion; he had learned that when speaking to the great and mighty it was wise to say only what they desired to hear. the plain truth was a crime. he showed the manners of a practised courtier when he had his second audience with cleopatra. the queen, too, had undergone a great change. a sad, compelling curiosity dominated all other feelings. she was like a wanderer, lost in a dark wood, who seeks only light. "tell me something about octavia," she said, with a gentleness that veiled the autocratic command. "you have seen her and know whether she is beautiful. has she a wonderful expression? is she dark or fair? what is the colour of her hair?" but however adroitly her questions might be put, this man, in whose ears her curses still rang, who was yet bruised from her shower of blows, would give no direct reply. according to him octavia was a fright. her eyes were dull, her hair scanty and fastened with austere, ash-coloured fillets. "how old is she?" queried cleopatra, still in the depths of despair, for however fascinating a deserted mistress may be, in her eyes the new love, though in reality a scarecrow, has all the attractiveness of a pure maiden whose unsullied youth is like to a fragrant garden in which her lover, or her husband, may wander at will to gather the flowers of happiness. the merchant's tale was comforting, however. on hearing that octavia was a widow, with two children; that she was without beauty and devoid of charm, with no power to kindle passion in a man's heart, cleopatra had a moment of relief. her anger had not died out, nor her bitter rancour against the lover who had deceived and betrayed her; she was, however, beginning to understand that this marriage had merely been a matter of political stratagem, a means of accomplishing antony's designs. in spite of this conviction, her fits of depression during the first few weeks after the news had come to her were so terrible that at times she felt that she must give up the struggle. she had always thought herself immune from jealousy, because of her conscious superiority over all other women. now, little by little, it was eating into her heart. how could she be sure that octavia was really a fright? that she had no power to charm? was it true that her thick-set body had no attraction for antony? after all, she had nothing to depend on but the word of a common man in the street. she recalled the affection that antony had had for the hideous fulvia; why should he not care for this new wife who was at least amiable and virtuous? day by day this poison was entering into her soul. at last she was so tortured by this canker of jealousy that she determined to put it away from her. by stupendous effort she tried to make herself believe that her love for antony was dead, that she had never really cared for him and that consequently his marriage was a matter of indifference to her. in order to convince both herself and the world of this indifference she resumed her former life of dissipation with the young men of her court. restrained no longer by those burning bonds that had kept her true to antony, she went recklessly from one excess to another. each involved a new degradation, each exhausted her by its gross intoxication, but nowhere could she find that oblivion for which her feverish heart longed. crush, profane, trample on it, as she would, the memory of her cherished idol could not be rooted out. with inexhaustible persistence it pursued her; even in the warm embrace of her most ardent adorers, it came to make her shiver with horror at her own disloyalty to her lover. wherever she went his dear image would appear suddenly before her, would cover her with his reproachful glance, as though he asked: "why are you acting as though all were over between us? in spite of this seeming separation we are bound together in spirit for all eternity. like ships, scattered for a time by the tempest, we shall surely come together again." her eyes smarted with tears as she invented excuses for her faithless lover. surely he had been forced into this marriage for political reasons and against his will. who had gained by this trap save octavius? who else would profit by this unholy alliance? this scheme had been devised by that cunning fellow that he might make his sister a sentinel to watch over antony and report his doings to his colleague. the brute! half vexed, half tenderly, she would again invoke the loved image, addressing him in imagination: "how guileless you were! you who had every right to rule, who could have chosen your mate and controlled the world--why should you play such a petty part, be made to obey like a little child? oh! the pity of it!" and then a ray of hope gleamed. that same weakness which had taken her lover away from her arms might be used to restore him to her. her kisses were indelibly printed on his forehead; why should she not re-kindle that fire which was probably still smouldering? and in one of those ecstasies, which were like a torch touched by a passing spark, she cried aloud: "i will tempt him back again! the hour is not far off when i shall carry him away from rome, from his wife, from octavius, from all who have thought that they were stronger than i." she did not trust simply to that thread, which, like a new ariadne, she had put in her theseus's hands. she put all her resources to work to carry out her purpose. octavius had his spies; she would have hers. these she despatched immediately, with orders to keep close watch over antony; to learn the innermost secrets of his household; to leave no stone unturned to discover all that was going on there. the first accounts sent back by these agents brought her only added distress. apparently the newly wedded couple were happy and living in perfect harmony. she declined to be discouraged by these reports, however. "if i exhaust all the men in my kingdom," she said, "i will place spies in every corner and in time they will surely find the crack in his armour!" when she first heard of the disagreements between the brothers-in-law, especially of the silly quarrel over the cock-fight, she was delighted. at last she had found the long-looked-for crack, and that would destroy the whole household, make it fall in ruins. she knew antony too well to believe that he would tolerate a rival for any length of time. her chief object now was to entice him away from rome. with untiring diligence she organized a secret society composed of courtesans, freedmen, and court attendants. she instructed these to call antony's attention to certain familiar things sent from the bruchium; to the fragrance of perfumes associated with his days spent there with her; by a word spoken at the right moment to set him dreaming of those months in egypt. the dealers in oracles also had their mission. they were to encourage the triumvir to consult them, and, as though all nature were speaking through them with one voice, they were told to repeat the famous words of his horoscope: "the star of your fortune is at its zenith, but the star of octavius seeks to eclipse it. your glory fears his glory, your power will diminish when the two stars come together." other influences were also working in unison with cleopatra. if certain of his friends, like ahenobarbus and pollion, had urged antony's marriage with octavia and had jeered at this man of valour being subject to the yoke of egypt's queen, others, more far-sighted, divined that some day she would regain her sovereignty over him. among these latter was quintus dellius, he who had arranged the affair at tarsus. he understood this passionate woman better than any one else and knew that she was capable of any deed to gain possession of her lover. there was also fonteius capito, a subtle observer of human nature, who had written before antony had been wedded a year: "yes, antony's marriage is apparently a happy one, but that he is beginning to be bored by it is evident to every one." these two men thought it wise to forestall future developments and they kept up a close correspondence with the queen, keeping her in touch with everything that could be of interest to her. she was not only informed of the most intimate details of antony's household, but of all the governmental complications against which the triumvir had to fight. the increasing boldness of the parthian invasions, the coast pillage of the pirates of sextus pompey, the uprisings of the poorer classes, their refusals to pay the taxes. all these disturbances in roman territory gave her fresh reasons for hope. the day she heard that antony was leaving his wife to her maternal duties and sailing for athens, she was overcome with joy. the game was not yet won, but at least she was no longer tormented by visions of octavia happy in the arms of her husband. those two were separated and antony's wife, desolate in her loneliness, would now suffer as she had done. if cleopatra were not entirely comforted by this knowledge, it at any rate helped her to bear her own trials more patiently! stirred by alternate emotions, she sometimes felt as though all were lost; then again she exulted in the thought that her sorrows were almost over. the most cruel moment was when she heard of the reconciliation at tarentum. she had been following with intense interest all the details of the fray and its results, and was planning to gather up the fragments of these broken alliances and construct a new power therefrom, and now this disappointment had come. it was a severe lesson and would have discouraged any one made of less stern stuff than this indomitable woman. she had, however, a gift of clairvoyance which could not be deceived for any length of time. although the treaty to renew peace between the brothers-in-law was formally drawn up, although it was sealed with offerings to the gods, libations, and festivals, and, more important still, by betrothals of offspring which doubled and trebled the many bonds between the families of julius and antony, it was very evident that this reconciliation would only be a temporary alliance. antony had fulfilled his part of the contract at once. a hundred brass-prowed triremes, twenty despatch boats, and as many lighter vessels, lying in the harbour at tarentum, had already been given over to octavius. and what had octavius offered in exchange? promises, nothing but promises. sixteen legions and a quantity of war supplies had been agreed upon in the treaty, but as yet none of these had materialized. there was nothing to do but trust in the good faith of octavius, and to those who knew him there seemed small chance of these promises being carried out. but antony was confident that they would be. his own loyalty made him often the dupe of other people. at this time he was especially trustful, for he had octavia as an intermediary and there could be no possible doubt as to her sincerity. he had no misgivings on that score and, counting on the promised reinforcements being forthcoming when required, he gave himself up to his own ambitious plans and left italy for antioch. his wife went with him as far as corcyra, proud of having been able to serve him, and more tenderly devoted to him than ever. there they parted, he to go on with his preparations for his coming campaign, she to return to rome and see that the conditions of the treaty were carried out as promptly as possible. antony's first object was to procure money. since the imperators had persistently ravaged the cities and country, violated the temples and over-taxed the people, this necessary commodity of war had grown very scarce. to extort it from italy was impossible. greece had been exploited to its utmost resources. the provinces of asia still remained; rich always, as a result of the advanced, scientific agriculture which made the land yield abundantly. but the land owners had been exasperated by toiling for roman profit and there was a general effort to evade the taxes by violence and fraud. many of these offenders had been executed for opposing the law, and these conditions had brought about disastrous results. antony found himself greatly embarrassed. to declare that it was his need of money alone that prompted him to return to cleopatra would be to ignore the complexities of human nature. it is true that in those trying hours when the censors returned empty-handed, with accounts of money due, his thoughts naturally reverted to the overflowing treasury of the egyptian queen, with those accumulated riches buried in caverns beneath the earth. if he had not deserted cleopatra this untold wealth would have been at his command. he could have employed it to sustain that army, which was, he firmly believed, to give him the empire of the world. but why waste time in dreaming of that vanished opportunity which would come to him no more? yet his mind went back again and again to those days spent in the palace of the bruchium. he saw his enchanting hostess, with her dark, flashing eyes, her mocking smile, her golden-tinted flesh--that golden colour which made his blood hot at the mere thought of it. what was the mysterious magic of this woman that the very idea of her brought the sweat to his brow and stirred his innermost being, even after these years of separation? all the time he had been in rome he had seen her in visions; embraced her in his dreams. even when in octavia's arms he had been ever conscious of the mistress whom he had deserted, and her phantom form would slip into the place of the actual woman by his side. these hallucinations had disturbed him. as a faithful husband he had tried to thrust them away from him. to-day, in this land of perfumed luxury that brought back the days he had spent at tarsus, they had complete mastery over him. his blood ran faster; he was defenceless against these persistent memories of his mistress. he saw her in every possible posture; the cat-like grace of her movements; the exquisite colour and lines of her draperies. he heard the soft harmony of her voice, and all these images told him that he was powerless to withstand her spell. but would the mere personal possession of her have satisfied him? would it have sufficed in place of the social triumphs, interests, and ambitions that bound the triumvir to roman life? he was not certain as to this, but complications arose which freed him from further doubts and scruples. the promised reënforcements from octavius had not come and there were certain wise men who predicted that they never would come. these troubles increased the discontent that was fermenting in him. he not only nursed a fierce hatred against his treacherous colleague, whose delay was endangering all his projects, but he had a growing prejudice against everyone connected with him. even octavia, invaluable and faithful as she had been, did not escape his suspicion. it was unpardonable that she should be the sister of the most perfidious of men. besides, at this great distance she was powerless to help him. if absence be a mirage which gives greater radiance to some images, it dims others, and often makes the more delicate ones vanish, as though they were swallowed up in mist. each day was gradually effacing the gracious contour of his wife from antony's mind, while the voluptuous outlines of his mistress grew clearer and more irresistible. fonteius capito, who understood his master's anxiety, struck the decisive blow. antony had just experienced a fresh disappointment in seeing promised confiscations for peloponnesus reduced to a fourth of the original amount agreed upon. when fonteius suggested that cleopatra would be only too glad to lend any money that he needed, antony staggered, as though he had received a sudden blow. "how do you know that?" he asked impatiently. "she has requested me to tell you so." was it possible that she was still thinking of him? that after all he had done she bore him no ill will? he must be dreaming! he stared at capito, fearing he might deny the words that he had just spoken. but no; explanations followed and antony was assured that cleopatra had never ceased to love him, that she was still eager for his success. what miracle of love was this, that after being stabbed, scorned, trodden under foot and profaned, thus came to life, or rather showed that it had never ceased to live! in a second antony's exhausted energy was renewed. it was the ecstatic joy of an invalid recovering from a protracted illness, of a convalescent who takes life up again, to find it more beautiful than he had ever realized. on being despatched to alexandria, capito had no occasion to copy the diplomacy of dellius in order to induce cleopatra to follow him. she was more than ready to go. her days of coquetry were over. she now only desired to join her lover, to be assured that she could hold him, and to begin immediately that contest with her rival in which the more persistent and less scrupulous combatant was certain of the victory. some letters from antony had made his situation and its difficulties quite clear to her. he was on the eve of a campaign, without money, without the necessary troops. outside aid was essential. she would supply this assistance; be the beneficent goddess, who at the crucial moment turns the wheel of fortune. ships were loaded at once; some with gold, others bearing beasts of burden; others again laden with machinery and abundant supplies of wheat; all the necessary stores to sustain the strength of the army. when these were packed to the netting, the purple sails of the royal galley were unfurled. the negro rowers grasped their silver-mounted oars, and, over gracious waves that seemed to make way for her tranquil passage, antony's mistress sped to her lover. it was at antioch again that antony awaited cleopatra; the same antioch where, five years before, he had begun to dream of her beneath the cedars and the palm trees. in the evening, under the glowing sunset skies, she stood erect, beside the silken canopy, looking as though she wished to hasten the flying ship to reach him sooner. his heart throbbed; his eyes grew dim; the blood surged in his ears. it seemed that the whole sea was beating against his breast. amidst shoutings and acclamations he conducted the fair traveller to the old palace of the seleucides that he had prepared for her with a luxury that rivalled the splendours of the bruchium. alone at last, they looked at each other in silence. so many months had passed, so many things had happened since their parting that they seemed scarcely able to recognize each other. was this the son of bacchus, with such a troubled brow? cleopatra, young as she was, and more beautiful than ever, bore the marks of suffering. though her passionate mouth had the vivid red of an open pomegranate, a curve of bitterness had changed its expression. she had lost the serene look of former days. in the storm of life she had been bruised against the rocks of fate. her heart, her royal heart, whose only dream had been to conquer, had known the humiliation of longing and of tears. at this moment, on the verge of victory, she was torn by conflicting emotions. even as she yielded to his irresistible fascination she had the agonized thought: "why do i still love this man who has put another woman in my place?" "what are you thinking about?" demanded antony, almost brutally, as though he dreaded her reply. "i am thinking that you are no longer mine; that you never really loved me," she answered bitterly. "do not say such things!" but her mind was made up. if only to show her generosity in forgiving him, she would let him see how guilty he had been. "if you had really cared, how could you have had the heart to desert me?--to betray me, after all your promises?--to leave me, as you did, sorrowful, humiliated, and alone?" antony knelt before her, a penitent, overwhelmed with grief. he tried to prove his innocence. "i love you; i have always loved you and you only. never, for one instant, have i loosed the bond that unites us." cleopatra listened, but an ironical smile was on her lips. "how can you understand my difficulties? the political necessity which has controlled all my actions? you have no idea what i have suffered." but she would not be convinced. "if you had really loved me----" antony stopped her. he leaped to his feet like a young hercules, threw his arms around her, and pressed his quivering lips to her own. "forgive me! only say that you forgive me!" he pleaded. she was beginning to yield but turned away, with a last effort to make him believe that she was impervious to his prayers. "miserable creature that i am! never have i so longed to hold you in my arms as i do at this moment, when i feel that you have every right to hate me, to curse me!" she was looking at him through her dark lashes. a slight twitching at her throat showed the emotion that made them both the helpless victims of an overmastering passion. "i have cursed you, yes; but hated you, how could i?" they clasped each other, fiercely, passionately, as though to crush out all remembrance of what had come between them. in that moment they both forgot the cowardice, the bitterness; all that did not make for happiness, for the ecstasy of being together, was wiped out. the old passionate ardour, their very breath of life, without which they could only languish and die, had come back, nothing else mattered. their separation was only a vast emptiness. once more they were in that enchanted garden where fate had first brought them together. they were wandering in its secret paths and would abide there for ever. whatever might happen afterward these infatuated lovers, with no interest, no desire except for each other, would wander hand in hand through fields of triumph and adversity, conquerors even to the end, since they would fix the hour for leaving life and would go down to immortality together. antony had ample cause for self-reproach. haunted by the many wrongs done his mistress, he now became her slave, and was absorbed in carrying out her slightest wish. there was never a more extravagantly generous lover! cleopatra was interested in literature; he sent two hundred thousand rolls of papyrus stolen from pergamus, for the library she had just rebuilt. she had a passion for art; several sanctuaries were rifled and their treasures transported to alexandria. it was as easy for him to offer her kingdoms as it was for other men to cover their mistresses with jewels, or to lay fortunes at their feet. invested with sovereign power, he gave away the roman provinces as casually as though they had formed part of his own patrimony. in addition to phoenicia, which he had presented to her in payment of the famous wager over the pearls, the kingdoms of cilicia, chalcides, and part of arabia were annexed to egypt. the queen also coveted judea, land of palms and spices, with its capital, jerusalem, into which poured the gold procured by the jews from the four quarters of the world; but it was difficult to dethrone herod, the king, who had reconquered it after a hard struggle. antony conceded the crown to this ally, who was to be of use to him, on condition that cleopatra should receive the revenue from its most bountiful districts, as well as the palms from samaria, and the roses of jericho, which were cultivated for her only. some of the graver members of antony's circle, among them ahenobarbus (who never hesitated to express openly what others were whispering), resented this free use of roman property. but, drunk alike with pride and passion, antony replied: "short-sighted men that you are, can you not understand that the true grandeur of rome is shown less in her conquests and the extent of her possessions than in the generosity which her riches makes possible?" nor was it bad policy to strengthen and enrich the woman who aspired to be, not only his ally, but his wife! for cleopatra had never renounced her original plan. having gathered wisdom from experience, tired of joys which eluded her, of crowns which often melted away, she was determined to carry out this project without further delay. at this moment, when antony was making ready to draw on her treasures it was only fair that she should share the benefits. in the same way that she would help him to conquer persia, thus making him more powerful than all other rulers, she would play the part of his companion, by fair means or foul, be present the day that he would ride in triumph to the capitol. an arrangement so entirely in accord with her own interests has caused cleopatra to be considered a cold, calculating woman, who weighed and planned everything for her own glory, and used antony merely as an easy instrument in her hands. to deny that she had schemes, and that, convinced of the triumvir's weakness, she had made up her mind to rule for him and to direct his actions to her own advantage, would be to close one's eyes to actual evidence. but when have love and self-interest been proved irreconcilable? did her dream of becoming a world-sovereign in any way lessen her passion? to marry antony, to unite her lot with a passionate lover as well as a powerful ruler, to bind him so that he could never again escape from her, that was the dream of this far-seeing, level-headed woman. there were serious obstacles to be considered, however, the chief one being antony's marriage with octavia. divorces, to be sure, were neither rare nor difficult in rome. originally, in a society founded on religious faith and respect for the home, adultery had been the necessary cause; but at that time they were granted for less serious reasons. incompatibility of temper, provided it was not proved by both sides, was accepted as a common cause of divorce. at one time, so lax were the morals, a man could put away the mother of his children simply on the ground that she no longer pleased him, that he preferred someone else. but how could such injustice be done to a woman whose birth and rank had placed her near olympus? what a brutal wrong against the pure, the revered sister of octavius! nor was this all. an ancient law, inscribed on the "twelve tables," prohibited all marriages between roman rulers and foreigners. this law had always been rigorously enforced, and disastrous results would have followed its transgression by the first citizen of the republic. antony tried to persuade his audacious mistress of the danger that this cruel and unreasonable act would involve. he showed her how the common people, always ready to throw down their idols, would take sides with octavius, how the senate, indignant at his conduct, would rise up in arms. but cleopatra was obstinate. she determined to have her revenge on antony and she reminded him of cæsar. "he was married to calpurnia, he faced the same obstacles that seem insurmountable to you, yet he did not hesitate to divide with me the flourcake used to consecrate espousals, and to declare me before all the world as his lawful wife!" "that was on his return from persia," interrupted antony. "when the voice of victory is loud enough to stifle all recriminations, i will do the same. wait until i have conquered...." but cleopatra had had the cruel experience of what happens during separations; she would wait no longer. their marriage should be the express condition of that pardon that she had granted in the excitement of those first moments of meeting, but which each succeeding day she was more inclined to withdraw. crises of jealousy, continual reproaches, bitter railings on the subject of the lawful wife, perpetually reminded antony of his sins and the need of making atonement. the man who had been brought up in fulvia's school knew only too well what punishment women can inflict. these scratches of the beautiful tigress, far from cooling his passion, fanned it into flame. he felt bound to her for life. her gift of intensifying life, of making it feverishly exciting, her ferocious caresses, her pretended threats of breaking off all relations, her swoons, all this exhilaration which formed part of their daily life, how could he leave it to go back to the tameness of an honest affection, and take up the routine of married life? he would have to do as cleopatra demanded. their marriage should be celebrated in the first days of spring, before the army began the new campaign. on hearing of this outrageous plot, the triumvir's friends were beside themselves with indignation. if dellius, capito, and plancus, who lived chiefly by his favours, kept silence for fear of displeasing him, others, who were more independent, did not hesitate to express their opinions. the proposed marriage would be a revolutionary act, an unprecedented scandal which might well upset the whole roman government. public opinion would be unanimous against this contempt for the oldest traditions. the patricians would take the insult as a personal offence and would defend octavia's cause; and as to octavius, his fury over this affront to his sister would pass all bounds, and who could foresee the consequences? antony, fully aware of the justice of these warnings, hesitated, tried to gain time. whatever way he turned storms came down on him. by alarming cleopatra, showing her the danger of a scandal when one is not strong enough to carry it over the heads of the people, he gained her consent, for the moment at least, to a middle course. the marriage would be celebrated, as he had promised, the official act would be inscribed on the civil registers at antioch, as well as in alexandria, but, until the termination of the war, there would be no official notification made to the roman senate. in this way, while he became the husband of the rich egyptian, he would still remain the husband of the woman, whom, by lawful marriage, he had wedded according to the rites of the latin monogamy. there was no justice in this, no consistency. it was not possible that the same man could bear the title of king of egypt and of imperator at the same time; that a proconsul could arrogate to himself, as a satrap, the right to have more than one wife at any one time. but cleopatra's lover had, for the time being, lost his senses. the good fortune which had followed him from his early youth, his habitual laxness of morals, made him accept the absurd, confound folly with reason. not knowing which to choose he pretended to need all his titles. it was certainly not the moment to renounce the most important thing of all, the right to appear before his allies with the authority of triumvir. he had neither the courage to decline the royal hand which was held out to him filled with love and treasure, nor to put away that other little hand which held his honour as a roman. intoxicated with his triumphs, having had no reverses to teach him moderation, his violent nature demanded life in its highest key. he would not be bound by any restriction. the whole world seemed to lie before him like a huge field whose entire harvest was his by right. to the kingdoms he had already given cleopatra he added crete, as a wedding gift, with its forests of maple and satinwood, of sandal and ebony; with its luxuriant larches whose branches swept the ground while waiting for the trunks to grow thick enough to furnish masts for the ships in the harbour. although fully aware of their value, these splendid donations were not enough for cleopatra. goddess as she was, her worship demanded sacrifices. what she was about to exact should be the price that antony would be forced to pay for egypt's gold. as he had not consented to divorce octavia, he must at least promise that he would never see her again. "the man who desires peace in his household has no regard for promises," says an ancient proverb. diverted for the moment from rome as antony was, entranced by the fascinations of the orient, of what importance was the guardian of his penates? she whom he believed wholly absorbed in the care of his children? antony was mistaken. he was an indifferent psychologist, and under the modest demeanour of the noble woman, whom the athenians had compared to their pallas, he had never divined her passionate soul; in the faithful and devoted wife he had not recognized the _woman_, hungry for her share of happiness. in reality, since their parting at corcyra, octavia's only thought had been for her husband. she could not give him daily proofs of her love, but she could help him. and she began to gather together money, provisions, army equipments, all the things that a general requires for a campaign. although she had been unable to make octavius fulfil his promises, she had in spite of his opposition, recruited two thousand picked men, supplied them with the necessary funds, and, happy in the thought that these fearless and splendidly equipped volunteers would form an invincible cohort for the imperator, she had engaged ships and embarked with them for greece. when he heard with what a valuable cargo octavia was arriving at piræus, antony was greatly perplexed. he was not wholly hardened in evil-doing. weakness was his chief fault. he acted on impulse and, with the thoughtlessness of a child, turned his back on the consequences. the present was all-important, the future did not count. when he married cleopatra and promised never again to see octavia, he had reckoned on the soothing effect of time and distance, and also on that nameless assistance from the gods who never yet had failed him. and now he suddenly faced a definite situation, a two-horned dilemma which led to equally disagreeable results. it would be madness to refuse the valuable help which octavia was bringing him; yet to accept her generous gift without according her a welcome, without rewarding this god-sent messenger with even a kiss, made him hot with shame. but what was he to do? there was cleopatra, fascinating and headstrong, jealous of her rights and not willing to yield an inch. in imagination he heard her bitter reproaches and was distracted by their accusing tone. what did his promises mean? the last were not the least binding, and they were strengthened by a soft arm around his neck, a honey-sweet mouth near his own, and eyes, now full of infinite tenderness, now threatening a storm more terrifying to a lover than the blaze of lightning and the roar of thunder. but the image of octavia had its influence too, and as she drew near it seemed as though her sweet soul had the same power that it had held for the past three years. there was no need for him to read again her last letter. the words were always ringing in his ears: "why do you stay away? have i offended you in any way? i thought it wise to come myself with the men and armaments that you asked me to get together. am i wrong? i heard that you were about to start on your great campaign. may i embrace you before you go? at your bidding i will cross the seas that divide us, or if you do not want me to come i will await your return. as you know, i live only to serve you. but if you do not care for my aid and do not want me to wait for you, what will become of me?" this tender, submissive devotion wrung his heart. he wanted to reply, not from love, for the brief passion that this pure roman woman had roused in him was already dead, but--his conscience was not dead. his changes from sinner to penitent were a constant surprise to his contemporaries. they have recorded his grief at fulvia's death, although during her life he had repaid her fierce devotion by gross ingratitude. and now it was octavia's turn to stir his heart and conscience. with the wheedling tenderness which, whatever wrong they may have done them, men use toward women they love, he pleaded with cleopatra: "i shall be away from you only three days. what are three days when we have a lifetime of love before us?" but he could not escape from her suspicious eyes. she had suffered too keenly ever again to feel free from distrust. why should the sorrow and tears of this woman whom she had never seen concern her? no, she would make no concessions. antony should never again seen octavia. the preparations for war went on. antioch was like a vast parade-ground. the cohorts passed through the gate of daphne every day. they marched with fearless step, making the paved street ring under their buskins. a brilliant group of horsemen was seen in the midst of the glittering lances and eager young faces. pell-mell with the greeks came the gauls, preceded by their standards. then came the baggage: mules whose backs bent under the burden of stones and weapons; camels loaded like ships; chariots whose noise resounded through the silent old streets; and troop after troop marched by, each raising dust in its turn. antony was about to leave for those mesopotamian plains that stretched out in the distance against the misty blue horizon. the thought of this new separation, which was bound to be long and beset with dangers--for the parthians were the most treacherous of enemies--disturbed cleopatra greatly. the memory of the brief, happy nights, the delicious days together, was only an additional grief; and she had one tormenting thought: surely antony had not broken his promise; he had not crossed the inlet of the sea which separated him from greece? but octavia was there, always there, expecting him, waiting for him, probably sending messages to him, and of late he had been preoccupied. in spite of his slavish devotion to her, cleopatra was in continual dread of his secret escape to her rival, were it only for an hour. before returning to egypt she was determined to have octavia go back to rome. once there, she would have at least the bitter satisfaction of feeling that her hated rival was at the greater distance from the husband who belonged to them in common. as antony was going to camp one morning to review his troops, he noticed that she looked unusually gloomy. "you are depressed; what is troubling you?" he asked tenderly. "you know very well why i am miserable. i cannot endure having octavia so near us," she answered, frowning. he tried to seem indifferent. "why should she disturb you, since we never see her?" "she has come here to defy me." making no attempt at a defence which he knew would be futile, he said: "the poor woman!" and went out to join his escort, whose horses were pawing with impatience under the palace windows. with that acute faculty, peculiar to people of passionate temperament, for making themselves miserable when a desire is not immediately fulfilled, cleopatra imagined antony as deceptive, evasive, ready to betray her for the second time. the very exclamation that he had uttered on leaving her--"the poor woman!"--rang in her ears and increased her anger. what tender pity he had put into the words! how plainly he had implied that she was innocent of any offence! did he still love her? after all, it was quite possible that this intriguing woman had retained her influence over his weak heart. at all events they were still good friends, and that alone was a torment to the woman who, for her own advantage, would have been willing to destroy the world. she would have no peace until octavia went away, and she resolved to secure her banishment that very day. in the evening, when the imperator returned, with the confident air of a man who, having satisfactorily accomplished his day's work, expects a certain reward, he had the disagreeable surprise of a cold welcome. cleopatra had decided to smile upon him only on condition that he would carry out her wishes at once. she began: "you are sacrificing our happiness for the sake of a woman who no longer means anything to you!" "she is certainly nothing to me that can distress you, since i love only you!" "but you are still good friends!" he had gone over the same subject so often, defending himself and pointing out the motives for his attitude, that the futility of further words was clear to him. "how you do hate her!" he exclaimed, in a tone which implied, "how unjust you are!" this reproach was the last touch. cleopatra was exasperated, and in a fury, demanded: "and you! how can you pretend that you no longer love her?" kisses are the only sure means of persuasion between lovers, and she refused to let him come near her. worn out, disheartened, like a man who has lost all interest in life, antony asked sadly: "what is it that you wish? what further proof do you require from me?" a papyrus leaf was lying ready on the table. "write!" commanded his despot. "send an order to octavia to depart for rome as quickly as possible!" this ungracious act was repugnant to antony's instinctive gallantry. he had never treated any woman rudely. should he behave like a blackguard to the one who had every right to expect from him the greatest gratitude and consideration? he hesitated, his hand resting on his knee. "yet you pretend to love me!" she murmured, her breath fanning his cheek. he realized that if he refused he would never again feel that sweet breath mingling with his own; that he would have to leave her, go to distant lands, contend with opposing forces, without having that last embrace which inspires men with courage and on the eve of battle makes them confident of victory. without this powerful stimulus nothing seemed worth struggling for, his mighty enterprise would be in vain. with a sudden movement cleopatra slipped the stylet between his fingers. "write, write," she cried. slowly, painfully, as though the words were loath to come, he wrote the letter. "now sign it!" he put his name at the bottom of the written lines. everything had been prepared. the papyrus was rolled closely around the stick. when the seal was pressed on the wax it seemed to shrink like bleeding flesh. an officer came in for instructions. the message was handed him with orders to deliver it at once to octavia. an instant later they heard him galloping in the direction of seleucia. there he would find a boat which, in a few hours, would bring him to piræus. not knowing the reason for antony's prolonged silence, octavia was counting the days. it was nearly a month since she had arrived at piræus and she was still waiting for a reply to her letters. rumours were afloat which might have given her a suggestion of the truth. she knew that the queen of egypt had landed in asia; that this whimsical woman had put hordes of gold at the imperator's disposal. there was a report of a political alliance between them. there were even whispers of a secret marriage. but to octavia's virtuous and upright mind, totally unprepared for such tidings, the terrible truth was difficult to comprehend. to realize that such treachery was possible she required surer proof than mere hearsay. the only proof that could convince her was already on its way: the affirmation signed by antony. yet it did not tell her the whole truth. under pretext of an unlooked-for change of plans he had written that he was obliged to leave antioch sooner than he had expected, expressed formal regret at being prevented from coming to thank her for her assistance, and intimated his wish that she reëmbark as soon as possible and go back to rome. in reading this letter, with no word of affection, with nothing of her beloved husband in it but his signature, octavia felt her heart grow cold. what had happened to him? instantly her worst fears were confirmed. her eyes were opened and she saw the heartless facts as they were; her husband no longer loved her. however opposed to deception she might be, she longed for the hour that had just passed, when she was at least ignorant of her misery. there was nothing to comfort her. she had to drink to the last drop the bitter cup of knowledge. two days later octavia, always submissive to her husband's will, left greece and turned toward rome. her tear-stained face was heavily veiled. the athenians watched her set sail, saw her quit the beautiful city of song and play, where, as comrade of dionysos, she had been crowned with myrtle. they looked after her as she took that lonely road which hagar, penelope, ariadne, and many others had followed, and which to the end of time, the faithlessness of men will force on loyal women. cleopatra was triumphant. she had seized with both hands the reins of the chariot of victory. she was again madly in love with antony, and, as always when she had made him yield to her wishes, she covered him with kisses. she wanted to stay with him, but it was imperative that she go back to egypt. this new jason was going to unexplored countries where he was confident of finding another golden fleece. cleopatra went with him as far as the frontier of the euphrates--sometimes on horseback, galloping with the grace of the queen of the amazons, sometimes ensconced in a litter with clusters of ostrich feathers waving at the four corners and curtains fastened with crystal chains. twelve nubians bore this litter on their sturdy shoulders. when the wind blew two faces could be seen behind those soft silk curtains, two faces resting very near each other. in the evening a tent was pitched. with its golden roof, its walls draped with brilliant red, outlined by flaming torches, it looked like a huge bonfire blazing in the midst of the camp. here the travellers, on the eve of separation, built their fond dreams. on their return--that return which was to be so soon--their marriage would be proclaimed. they would put on that double crown which their union would win for them. the world would belong to them; it would be their enchanted palace, a glorious, inexhaustible garden of delight. for with these lovers glory and love were always intermingled. the morning that they were to part, with hands clasped they looked at each other in silence, as though each wished to imprint the vision of the other before it vanished. "to-morrow my eyes will no longer behold you," sighed cleopatra. "mine will see you always," said antony, "for you will be nearer to me than the blaze of the sun by day, or the light of the stars at night." in order to see him until the last moment cleopatra climbed a hill which commanded the surrounding country. the rocks in the river made it a whirling torrent, foam-flecked and roaring furiously. when antony had reached the farther side, he turned again, saluting cleopatra for the last time, and described a wide circle with his flashing sword. before him lay a deep valley. all was light, transparent green, touched with the gold of the coming harvest. the great shadow of alexander seemed to point out the path for him to follow. impetuously he threw himself on his horse, which leaped forward, his royal purple mantle floating in the wind. viii the two rivals in spite of all the precautions for secrecy, octavius soon learned what had happened at antioch. his resentment was keen, for in addition to the insult to his sister, which reflected on himself, he could not accept calmly an alliance that added a crown to his colleague's glory. would antony, this lucky adventurer, succeed in his invasion of parthia? to greece, egypt, and asia minor, his rightful share as one of the triumvirate, would he annex armenia as well? and persia? all that fabulously rich orient, on which alexander had built his matchless fame? where would his power end? what pinnacle would he leave unscathed? a wave of hatred surged up in octavius's heart. knowing, however, that the hour had not yet come to unmask his real sentiments, he pretended to ignore the matrimonial complications of octavia's treacherous husband. when he and antony were together his attitude was friendly, ostentatiously fraternal. he even begged the gods to favour the expedition which he was hoping to see fail, and by pious libations he made every pretence of kindly feeling, hiding his personal grievances. he made the mistake, however, of criticizing his brother-in-law's habit of life. this remonstrance, coming from a man whose recent marriage, preceded by adultery and rape, had scandalized all decent people, was naturally ridiculous. it brought a return thrust from antony, which, though cynical, was not lacking in force and wit. "of what are you accusing me?" he wrote from alexandria, whither he had gone to visit cleopatra, in the brief interval between two battles. "my relations with the queen are not new. you know very well that i have been her lover for the past nine years! as for you! have you ever been faithful to one woman? i wager by the time that this letter reaches you your livia will have had cause for complaint, and that you have already quarrelled with tertulia, terentella, or rufilla, probably all three of them. if a man serves the gods and his country, what matter with whom he takes his pleasures?" antony was in no hurry to raise his mask of secrecy and announce his imitation marriage. he wanted to wait until after his second campaign into persia--from which he looked for happier results than the first had given him--before risking the inevitable reproaches and disturbances that might involve more than the family relation. clad in the armour of victory he would have nothing to fear. he therefore tore himself from the tender arms that held him and returned to the field of battle. his troops, awaiting him on the median frontier, accorded him, as always, an enthusiastic welcome. they were his old soldiers, who had often fought under his standards and were ready to follow wherever he led. they had implicit faith in him, understood the breadth of his ambitions, and were touched with the fire of his aspirations. they were confident that his fortune would be their fortune; that they would have, in their turn, quite as much glory and even more gold than the veterans of cæsar had won. why should they not have believed in the success of their incomparable chief? their hero, brave, alert, always on the spot when needed; a warlike genius, prompt in action, generous to a fault, never weary; who met good fortune and evil with the same indomitable smile! this popularity was too precious for him to neglect any means of adding to it. kindly always, he won hearts still more by his epicurean indulgences, which he allowed his subordinates to share with him. a lover of good living, he wanted happy faces around him. he confined his rigorous discipline to the time of action; in camp he authorized a freedom from restriction which was a new departure in the life of roman soldiers. what a contrast between the old bands of marius, valiant, it is true, but who marched under the lictor's whip, and the spontaneous zeal of antony's troops, who were ready to suffer and to die for their leader! a striking instance of their devotion was shown in the reply made by his men in the passes of armenia, where they were enduring the combined miseries of fatigue, hunger, and cold, to the envoys of phraates, who approached them with perfidious offers of peace. "no," answered these loyal soldiers, turning their backs to the tempters, "we would rather eat bark and shells with antony than abandon his cause." the lieutenants were of the same mind. they sympathized with the splendid ambitions of their chief. many of his officers had been taken into his confidence during the long night-watches in his tent, and these young men were imbued with the spirit of warfare and hoped to achieve brilliant records. the greater part of them had been impoverished by civil wars and revolutions, and they were counting on the fortunes of war to retrieve their losses, so they fought with the eager expectation of gamblers. this was the material that antony had collected for his first campaign into persia; an invasion which in spite of wonderful deeds had brought him but scant success. at the outset, he had been compelled to tread cautiously in a country where the enemy had a powerful army already installed, whereas he had to bring his forces with him. deceived alike by his naturally hopeful nature and by the reports which his couriers had brought after a superficial survey of conditions, he had imagined that the mere entrance of the roman army into this ancient empire of darius would make its worn-out granite walls crumble into dust. when the real battles began he saw very clearly that the medes, parthians, and armenians had lost none of their valour. he realized this cruelly at phaaspa, where, by a totally unlooked-for turn of tactics, the enemy compelled him to alter his lines and raise the siege. more cruelly still was their prowess brought home to him during the retreat that he was forced to make at the beginning of winter, through a devastated country and under a shower of murderous arrows. these calamities could have been avoided if his eagerness to return to cleopatra had not made him hasten operations which required the most careful preparation. he came back from his festival of love, however, provided with new troops, reënforced artillery, and fresh supplies. the campaign met with greater success this time. he vanquished the armenians, forced king phraates to surrender to him the standards formerly set up by the legions of crassus, and thus was able to send the senate a glowing account of his movements, which passed in rome for the flaming breath of victory. while antony in the plains of erzerum was giving these proofs of his genius and daring, octavius, no less determined to gain the supremacy, was seeking the means to place it within his grasp. war was not his strong point. at heart a coward, he preferred intrigue to action. he knew, however, that in rome arms represented the standard of all grandeur, and he forced himself to consider them. besides, circumstances left him no choice. his colleagues were at war; the one in asia, the other in the african provinces. it rested with him to repulse the invasions of sextus pompey. by good luck, in spite of numerous defeats, his victory in sicilian waters, whereby he won one hundred and sixty vessels from the pirate fleet, enabled him to announce before the senate his delivery of the republic from a formidable enemy, almost at the same hour that antony sent word of his triumph in persia. however, neither of these victories was sufficiently important to give either triumvir definite ascendancy over the other. but, preceded by the eagles of crassus, whose downfall had been such a bitter blow to roman pride, with the spoils that he had captured from the enemy, and leading among his captives the king artabazes, together with his queen and her children, antony arrived at rome. crowned with golden laurels, driving along the via sacra in his chariot drawn by the four white horses that had borne cæsar, sulla, marius, and the scipios, he had addressed the crowd, saying: "i am master now, who knows who will come after me?" it was not only in the army that antony was popular. his good nature, his frankness, his consideration, and the scrupulous care that he gave to rewarding any service rendered him, had made friends for him everywhere, particularly among the townspeople. his absence, so far from destroying his prestige, had increased it, for in periods of unrest the people are apt to lay the blame of all mishaps on the government in power, while they exaggerate the greatness of these who are gaining victories at a distance. if antony had taken advantage of his opportunity and brought his trophies to rome the day after his conquest of media, and, like a good roman citizen, prostrated himself before the statue of jupiter, there is no doubt whatever that the imperial crown, refused to cæsar, would have eventually been placed on his head. but, as wise old homer has said, "what can be expected of a man who lets himself be the slave of a woman?" to prevent his eluding her, cleopatra had gone to meet her lover on the coast of asia. she profited by the occasion to investigate her various interests there. judea had a special fascination for her. that judea of which she had not been able to obtain possession, but whose king paid her millions in tribute. perhaps, too, she had a curiosity to meet the beautiful mariamne, who was reputed to have such an irresistible fascination for herod. it was not without dire misgivings that these sovereigns learned of the forthcoming visit to their household of the bold and dangerous mistress of antony. to be sure, it was protected by their faithful devotion, as well as by the holy memory of the queen of sheba's visit to solomon, but cleopatra's reputation was widespread. she, however, was too well aware of the relations between herod and antony to run any risk of offending the former. it was even whispered that she had a natural feminine desire to try her witcheries on the reputedly invulnerable heart of judea's king, and that these coquetries came very near ending her life. like all women in love, mariamne was morbidly jealous. she was furious at the intrusion of a woman, less beautiful perhaps than herself, but whose rich bronze hair, milk-white skin, and shining dark eyes had led astray the hearts of so many men. one evening when they had retired to their own apartments, after having been entertained by a series of songs and dances from cleopatra, in which she had displayed all her marvellous power to charm, mariamne observed that her husband was absent-minded. promptly her thoughts flew to the sorceress of egypt, and her smouldering suspicion kindled into flame: "you are thinking of her!" roared the enraged lioness, and heedless of herod's sincere denial she demanded that cleopatra be put to death on the instant. to kill the queen of egypt! the ally of rome! such an act would entail fatal consequences. if herod demurred it was not because his bloodthirsty soul baulked at either poison or poignard. it was not because the siren songs had touched his senses. no, he too hated her, for her yoke weighed heavily on his avaricious soul. he desired to get rid of her, but he scarcely dared run so tremendous a risk. mariamne used all the wiles of the serpent of eden; she coaxed, she cajoled: "do you not see that this woman is a menace to the whole world? antony himself would be safer if he were free!" but the king was difficult to move. he argued, he resisted, and finally chose the part of prudence. in place of the amorous homage that she had been hoping to call forth, he loaded her with valuable gifts, and, without letting her suspect how near she had come to losing her life, he escorted her to the frontier, like a respectful vassal. during those days that cleopatra had spent near the temple of temples had this learned pupil of apollodorus any desire to read the sacred books? did she understand that the time for the birth of the messiah was drawing near? had she any intuition that out of this land of judea, which she was oppressing like a despot, would rise the new sovereignty of christianity from the ruins of the world of her day? did she see the end of that civilization of which she was the fairest representative? probably not, for, like all those who are devoured by ambition, cleopatra thought only of her own aggrandizement, of the fulfilment of her glorious dreams. it would have been inconceivable to her mind, reared in the traditions of egypt and of greece, that what had taken centuries to build up would vanish like a bit of straw. besides, this was the time for hopeful visions rather than for misgivings. antony was returning as victor. it was the moment to announce their marriage, to prove her sole dominion over the mighty conqueror. she awaited him eagerly, trembling with joyful anticipation. when antony caught sight of her on the libyan slopes, a flower amongst flowers, her arms outspread to welcome him, her luscious mouth ready for his kisses, all thought of his duty to rome was effaced in a moment. he saw her alone; his idol, his beloved, and his only wish was to follow where she led, to share his triumphs with her, and to add to her kingdoms the new kingdoms that he had just conquered. a squadron awaited them at the mouth of the orontes and they set sail for alexandria. it was beyond belief that a roman general should fail to bring the spoils of war to rome. it was for rome alone that he had fought and conquered. to rome only belonged the privilege of conferring the triumph. but antony had a reckless disregard for all these traditions. he was drunk with the homage of the orient; her prostrate kings, her incense, the statues that she had erected in his honour. he felt a veritable giant and he meant to show his pride of achievement by an act of outrageous audacity. he planned to duplicate, on the banks of the nile, the magnificent ceremonies with which rome welcomed her returning conquerors on the banks of the tiber. egyptian splendour equalled, if it did not exceed, that of rome. on this occasion everyone was anxious to contribute his share to the gorgeous spectacle, for the insult to the italian capital aroused keen delight in the heart of the alexandrians. every house was decorated; every citizen brought offerings; every woman wore her finest apparel and all her available jewels. it was a variegated crowd that assembled on the parade grounds to greet the victor. suddenly there was a deep roar, as though the sea were pouring in. a thousand trumpets rang out and the victorious army marched into sight. the cavalry, in sparkling armour, led the way. then the chariots shook the ground as they rolled by in martial splendour, laden with gold, silver, statues, all the spoils taken from the violated temples. thousands of captives, with arms bound and heads bent, followed. then king artabazes, his wife and their two sons, appeared, their arms fastened with silver chains in token of their former grandeur. at last, standing in his chariot drawn by four foaming chargers, his brow crowned with golden laurel, superb in, his robes of royal purple, came the imperator. on a platform draped with sumptuous silk, cleopatra awaited him, her children by her side. on the first step stood cæsarion, his face, even more than his name, recalling the divine cæsar. no ceremony in cleopatra's day had even approached this in royal grandeur, and surely no other one had ever held such a triumph for her. what it meant for this proud woman, who had borne the scoffs and jeers of rome, to see its highest dignitaries prostrate at her feet! what a revenge to count by hundreds their golden eagles! in order to leave no doubt as to her intention of putting herself in the place of their god, jupiter, she was wearing the silver tiara, surmounted by the sacred asp, which was the head-dress of her own goddess, isis. as the imperator appeared she rose, advanced to the edge of the platform, and handed him the lotus sceptre, the replica of her own, in token that he was to share with her the throne of egypt. antony's face was radiant. from his exalted stand he proclaimed her queen of kings, empress, goddess, and announced once more her sovereignty over the kingdoms which he had recently presented to her. turning to the children, whose young heads were weighed down by their diadems, he explained the order of their inheritance. the eldest was to have media, armenia, and the land of the parthians. helios would inherit the libyan provinces; and his twin sister, selene, phoenicia and the island of cyprus. cæsarion, who had just reached his fourteenth year and laid aside the white and purple robe of the roman youth for the toga of manhood, he declared to be the sole heir of his father, julius cæsar. there was deafening applause, as though alexandria with her group of prospective kings was indeed the capital of all the world. the sun dropped into the sea. from the gates of canopus to the necropolis, the line of houses began to show lights, one by one, in the gathering darkness, their roofs glowing red from the glare of the torches. all sorts of festivities began. oil, wine, and wheat were distributed to the eager crowds; handfuls of money were thrown to the populace and gathered up as quickly as it fell. the huge tables in the palace gardens were loaded with refreshments. there were spectacles of every variety, noble and obscene, artistic and bloody, to suit all manner of tastes. the arena, as always, attracted the larger number of people. the animals had been let loose, and, with a license never permitted in rome, young aristocrats took the part of the gladiators. when these contestants whetted the appetite of the wild beasts by offering their bare arms the whole audience stood up and watched, breathless, to see the blood gush out. following the roman custom, these fêtes went on for forty days. on the opening evening cleopatra and antony appeared in their royal robes, apart--as befitted their position as sovereigns. mounted on elephants, gleaming with jewels, they went through the different quarters of the city. but they soon wearied of this imposing regalia; it isolated them, kept them at a distance from the various amusements whose echoes appealed to their desire for entertainment. they dismissed the elephants and attendants and went about on foot through the paved streets. once there, the feverish need for further excitement that stirs all merry-makers in saturnalia took possession of them. they mixed with the rioters, enjoying their ribald jests and gross pleasures, and heedless of all sense of dignity, they wandered about as in the old days when they frequented the disreputable resorts of the rhakotis. drink and excitement had stolen antony's senses, and he conceived the grotesque notion of ending the festival with a gigantic orgy and masquerade, where, disguised as silenus, surrounded by a crowd of bacchanals, he would wander through the streets all night long. there is a legend that owing to an amethyst ring, given to her by one of her necromancers, cleopatra never lost her presence of mind. she chose the moment when antony was utterly intoxicated to add a final insult to those that had been heaped upon rome during this festival of folly. mimics, eunuchs, the lowest kind of actors, were mounted on curules, the ivory chairs of state reserved for the highest dignitaries, and, in ridicule of a revered roman custom, the queen ordered all the romans then in alexandria to file past this rabble. this scandal crowned the succession of orgies. when the news of it reached octavius his heart quivered with delight! it supplied the means, which he had lacked the wit to devise, to undermine antony's prestige. careful and cunning, he suppressed his first instinct to make use of these outrages at once for his own advantage. it was not the right moment to attack an adversary who, in spite of blatant faults, had many warm partisans. before beginning this assault he must win favour for himself and dispel the unflattering impressions that he had made in his youth. versed in the trick of changing his policy, he effected such a complete alteration of standards that to this day it is uncertain which represented his real self: the cruel, suspicious, perfidious tyrant that he had seemed up to that time, or the gracious prince, the patron of art and letters, who has been known for so many centuries as augustus cæsar! cheating and trickery unquestionably played a part in this sudden metamorphosis, but it is possible that, seeing the wisdom of honesty, he used it as an instrument for promoting his own interests. at all events, if he were not a better man, his conduct from that time gave every evidence of it. there was general astonishment on his return from sicily. in place of the atrocious bloody reprisals which had stained rome after the victory of philippi, an amnesty was declared, with proposals of peace, a reduction of taxes, and various changes for the benefit of all classes of the people. was not this the surest way to win favour? instead of setting himself up in opposition to his rival, to give the people a season of wise moderation, as a contrast to the mad debauchery of antony? he carried out this idea by proclaiming his wish to reëstablish the simple manners and customs of former times. recalling the austere principles of cato, he forbade the wearing of the imperial purple by the people, restricting its use to the senators. he suppressed money-changing and encouraged agricultural pursuits. he laid the foundation of the temple of apollo on the palatine hill, in order to furnish employment for the masons. though not completed until many years later, this great religious work has always been associated with his name. and, most important of all, he decided to destroy lepidus, because of the general contempt he had incurred on account of his merciless raids to accumulate wealth for his own use. this limiting of the government to two rulers was universally welcomed. it was a sign of ultimate republican unity, the first blow at the accursed triumvirate. in all these movements octavius had been aided by his friends' counsel. he had many warm friends, for the gods are generous in according this blessing to men not otherwise specially gifted, who are thereby able to accomplish great things. three of these friends assumed all responsibility and bore him, on the wings of their devotion, to heights which otherwise he could never have reached. these were theodorus, the learned teacher, on whose keen judgment he could always rely in difficult undertakings; agrippa, that incomparable warrior, a veritable neptune, who had complete command of the seas; and mæcenas, above all, the wise, the charming mæcenas, whose tactful, subtle intelligence was such that in giving counsel or advice he always made his opponents believe that they themselves had originated the idea. octavius fully understood the value of their support and undertook nothing without consulting them. when he heard of what was going on at alexandria he summoned them at once. each one, though consulted privately as to what should be done in reply to antony's insulting actions, had the same view. they were of one mind. assuredly antony had brought only anathemas upon his head, but his name, a synonym for glory, generosity, courage, was greatly beloved; to make a direct attack upon this popular hero would be unwise. she who had shared in his evil deeds, however, they could safely condemn, being sure of the commendation of the people; feared, as well as scorned, cleopatra, in the eyes of the romans, was responsible for all these outrages. it was rumoured that she had put secret potions in the wine which had robbed antony of his reason. it was finally decided to ignore for the moment any part that the imperator had taken in these scandalous proceedings and to rouse the people against her, whom they venomously termed "the sorceress of the nile!" the method of temporizing which octavius embodied in his motto: "_sat celeriter quidquid fiat satis bene,_" had up to that time been highly successful. accordingly he proceeded slowly and, while waiting to attack his actual adversary, he commanded theodorus to open a campaign of accusations against the egyptian queen. the romans were always easily roused. devoted to their capital city, it was enough for them to hear that it was in any way criticized: a suspicion, a suggestion, that it was in peril was sufficient to stir them profoundly. these proud citizens of rome had the idea that all other great cities envied her and were anxious to overthrow her power. carthage, corinth, athens, all in important positions, had in their turn fallen under suspicion. to-day all their instincts of defence were united against superb, preëminent alexandria. there was a persistent rumour that cleopatra was planning to transfer the world-capital from rome to that city. this danger in itself would have bred hatred of her, but, in addition, there were the recent vile tales. her extravagant luxury was especially distasteful to a people who made poverty almost a crime. in passing from mouth to mouth the incident of the pearls was naturally exaggerated. there was now an account of a bath, enriched each day by a mixture of gold and amber, to which the body of this courtesan owed the glowing warmth of colour which so enticed men's gaze. while this gossip was spreading among the plebeians, mæcenas was busy agitating the intellectuals. he got together a group of literary men, and, with that ease of language and charm of persuasion that always carried conviction, he described octavius as the coming master of the world. these men were quickly persuaded to use their pens to advance his cause. it was arranged to make conservatism, religion, devotion, social reform the fashion--all the ideals of which cæsar's nephew was patron, as opposed to the oriental usages to which antony had become a convert. virgil, in his delightful pastoral, was the first to carry out this project of mæcenas's. his poems were of wide influence in reviving that taste for country life and love of the earth which the long wars had rudely interrupted. at the same time horace put aside his epodes on wine and women for the more serious odes. deploring the fatal power of women when in control of the government by actual right or by their domination over the men who represented it, he gave an outline of the lives of women famous in history and legend, and set forth the inevitable misfortune that they had brought upon their countries. he adjured the people, in the name of their imperilled nation, to unite against the fatal egyptian woman, the evil demon of the day. the situation was growing less difficult for octavius. he could now venture to lay before the senate certain accusations that until that moment he had not dared to make public. the senate was the supreme arbiter, the tribunal before which all discussions relating to the government were laid. to denounce his colleague there was dangerous, for not only had antony many partisans in the senate, but this year the two consuls, caius sossius and ahenobarbus, were his sworn friends. the advisers of octavius were well aware of the risks incurred, but, under the existing conditions, immediate action was imperative. a duel to the death must be fought between the two rivals. it was one of the last days of the year b.c. the sun went in and out amongst the flake-like clouds, making it impossible to know whether sunshine or cloud-drifts would prevail. octavius studied the sky long and earnestly and finally decided that the way the birds were flying meant weather favourable for his undertaking. he started toward the senate. the crowd had begun to gather. there were beggars asking alms and slaves carrying provisions. women were collected about the public market-places where beans, fish, and sausages were displayed. half-naked children, brown as crickets, paddled in the gutters. troops of donkeys, bearing wicker baskets, chariots, litters, blocked the streets. twelve lictors ran before the imperator to clear the way, but in spite of that his pallor and nervousness were noticed by the people in the street. he was under a strain, and as he took his seat in the chair of honour he felt beneath his toga for the poignard which he always carried there. since the assassination of cæsar a _senatus consulte_ had forbidden the wearing of arms in the senate chamber. but to-day, on the eve of a debate, the consequences of which no one could divine, all precautions were legal. at least so octavius thought! at the first instant the opposing parties gauged each other at a glance. placing a heavy portfolio before him, filled with his various accusations against antony, octavius opened the discussion. faithful to his former tactics, which had been so successful with the people, he launched his opening diatribes against cleopatra: "this incestuous daughter of ptolemy the piper, descendant of the lagidæ, is our worst enemy. threatened in her own country by those who abhor her loose ways and the dangers of her insecure government, she has made use of the power of rome for her own protection. intoxicated with her success, this mad woman has even dreamed of destroying our capital. she is preparing to attack us, i tell you, and with a shameful army of slaves and eunuchs is planning an invasion of italy!" the effect of this speech was instantaneous. the uproar that greeted it was deafening. furious with rage, the senators rose in a body, and with angry gestures raised their togas like the wings of gigantic, ferocious birds. a direct attack on antony required greater courage. octavius felt that the least false step might result in an irreparable downfall. confident, however, of the convincing force of his arguments, he commenced his address. he denounced antony, not only for having taken for his own use the newly acquired provinces, but for having deliberately made over the greater part of them to the queen of egypt. "yes, not content with robbing and despoiling his own country, this infatuated lover of cleopatra has offered to this alien woman armenia and media, the territories of calcida, as well as phoenicia, with tyre and sidon, and the enormous revenues from palestine." octavius paused between the name of each country in order to let the wrath of the people have ample time to seek expression. the protestations came with precipitate and overwhelming violence. "the scoundrel! the traitor! our beautiful lands! our richest provinces!" shouts of indignation filled the hall. until that moment antony's staunch supporters had thought it wise to keep silence. when the first roars began to subside caius sossius commanded silence. he announced an important proclamation. that very morning he had received a notice that would give the lie direct to these attacks, which the conqueror of the parthians had fully expected. in eloquent terms, the consul recalled the recent brilliant deeds of mark antony. "and," he thundered, "it is he, the valiant hero of all these victories, whose life has been risked again and again for the glory of his country, for the safety of rome, who is now being vilified because he is not here to defend himself!" the tide changed on the instant. "it is cowardly! it is unworthy of us," cried a dozen voices. encouraged by this evidence of sympathy, sossius went on with greater emphasis. "these much decried donations to alexandria, what are they but annexations of rome? as egypt is, or will be to-morrow, a roman province, why is there any discontent? this wealth of the orient, what is it used for? it is equipping the roman army, feeding the soldiers of the republic. it is building temples, it is erecting barracks, to make the name of our capital revered throughout the world! where is our loss?" "moreover," continued the friend of antony, with a respectful inclination to the august assembly, "in regard to the rights of the senate, the imperator requests that you either ratify the measures that he has taken in the service of his country, or, if you disapprove of his action in the matter, to turn them down." the tide had unmistakably turned in antony's favour. whatever errors he had committed in his infatuation for cleopatra, he had been the dominant figure in roman warfare during the past ten years; the only one who had accomplished great deeds and who had been, through all, a noble citizen of rome. octavius felt the ground giving way beneath his feet. pale as the statues around him, he felt as though after this first tilt he might probably end with his head in the dust. his swelling portfolio, however, was still full of accusations against antony. his weapons were not yet exhausted. he took his courage in both hands and again began to speak. he went over the deeds of antony and cleopatra during the festivities at alexandria, giving, in exaggerated and revolting detail, the experiences of those nights of debauchery in the streets of the great city. he dwelt on the investiture of cleopatra's bastard children, especially the fact that cæsarion was treated with the honour and ceremony belonging to a roman prince in being presented to the roman legions as the lawful heir of cæsar. here there was an interruption. why harp on an old grievance? the republic was not a dynasty, there was no sense in taking umbrage at so-called heirs. all that was merely part of the masquerading. if antony had joined in such frivolous amusements it was regrettable certainly, it showed a lack of dignity. but, on the other hand, the same thing had occurred at rome, when he had had his chariot drawn by lions. such puerile nonsense was ridiculous but scarcely deserving of severe reproof. the current was propitious now and sossius took advantage of it to remind the people that the policy of octavius, at the time of cæsar's death, had been reprehensible in the extreme. here tufius interposed with the comment that it was useless to recur to things so far in the past. "i speak of the things of yesterday," retorted the consul. he then explained briefly that in destroying the triumvirate and altering it into a dictatorship for two, octavius had appropriated for himself the share belonging to lepidus. in seizing the african provinces, with, their ships, cavalry, infantry, and all their accessories; in confiscating for his personal use the sicilian land wrested from sextus pompey; in dividing the best parts of italy among his own soldiers, leaving no portions for the veterans of the other armies, had not octavius offended justice and exceeded the limits of his power far more than antony had ever done? another outburst, equalling the one provoked by the opening speech of octavius, began. the assembly was completely won over to antony's cause. sweat stood in great drops on the forehead of octavius. he felt the sheath of his hidden poignard press against his left side. for the moment he had the sensation of being trapped, and with clenched teeth and flaming eyes he glared about him defiantly. he was accused of aspiring to the office of supreme magistrate! how could he give irrefutable proof of his disinterestedness? "i will resign every office that i hold; i will give up all public duties and go back to private life as a plain roman citizen, on the sole condition that my colleague, antony, does the same!" he cried. this struck the right note. every one was weary of the dictatorship and wanted to return to a republican form of government. but the issues then at stake were too grave to permit a hasty decision. besides, octavius did not have the confidence of the people. his former attitude had given good ground for suspicion. the very moment when he was ostensibly giving up his power might be precisely the instant when he was exploiting his position in order to retain it. undecided as to what was to be the next step, the consuls declared that in antony's absence immediate action was impossible. a conference with him was essential. ahenobarbus proposed going to alexandria to obtain his resignation. the majority endorsed this course and the vote was held over for a later meeting. the situation was perplexing for octavius. again he realized how deep a hold antony had on the affections of the people. it was the same old story. how could he hope to defeat a rival who had not only a formidable army at his back, but wealth and popularity in addition? he went to consult his friends, as he always did when in a quandary. mæcenas lived in a villa on the esquiline hill, commanding a magnificent view. rome lay in majestic state on the banks of her river below, and the soft beauty of the campagna stretched out to the sabine hills along the horizon. as octavius drew near mæcenas went out to meet him with outstretched hands. his affection for the imperator was sincere and loyal, as is shown in various letters from him. "i love you better than myself. where you lead, i will follow. whatever comes to you i will share, for my life is inseparably bound up in yours." the two friends sat down near the brazier, which filled the hall with warmth and the fragrance of incense. octavius recounted what had just happened in the senate. mæcenas admitted that there were grave difficulties, but he contended that these were only temporary and that they could be adjusted. in antony's present state of over-excitement he would undoubtedly do something to rouse keen disapproval, if not a serious disturbance. in the meantime agrippa should make secret preparations for war, while octavius devised some means of turning the tide of public opinion once more in his favour. a policy of strict conservatism, as opposed to the wild egyptian schemes of antony, seemed the wise move at the moment. the oldest temple in rome, that built in the time of romulus in honour of jupiter feretrius, was falling into ruins. octavius must give orders for its reconstruction. he must also complete the building of the pantheon, begun by cæsar to the glory of mars. while the two friends were planning for the future, athenodorus came in. his practical mind confirmed these suggestions. he proposed that they consider something to please the plebeians, for their opinion carried great weight as to popularity. during the summer months the roman populace suffered cruelly from scarcity of water. it would be an excellent device to repair the aqueduct of marcia, and to open cheap baths, in order that the working classes might have the same comfort and refreshment that the patricians enjoyed in their luxurious _sudatoria_. these constructive works met octavius's entire approval. in the near future they might prove to be his strongest support. but the moment was not propitious for the carrying out of the plans. he had barely had time to summon the architects and go over their drawings, when a thunderbolt fell! unknown to cleopatra, antony had always kept up friendly relations with octavia. in the first place, he was really grateful for all the assistance that this noble woman had rendered him. in the second, he had the more powerful motive of expecting further services! they exchanged letters frequently, and, as the sister of octavius, she could keep her husband fully informed of all that was going on in rome. she was, in addition, the most desirable of mediators, for her delicate hands held the thread of communication between the brothers-in-law and she was careful not to break it off. she also constantly entertained a set of antony's friends in her house on the palatine hill, and these were always ready to discuss the virtues of their hero and do honour to him in his absence. with warm affection she had looked after the education not only of her own children, but of those that fulvia had borne antony as well. unlucky chance, or one of those acts of treachery that often occur in the nests of intrigue which form in kings' palaces, had thrown one of antony's letters to his wife into the hands of cleopatra. its affectionate tone and the promise of a visit in the near future precipitated a crisis which was bound to come. in the queen's heart, uneasy always with memories and fears, the arrow of jealousy struck deep. "after all he has promised me!" she cried bitterly. then came the inevitable reaction, natural to a highly strung, nervous nature that could endure no grief, and again she cried: "i will have my revenge!" charmian, who never left her side, lived in a perpetual state of terror. she was divided between love for the queen and dread of her passionate temperament that was always courting dramatic situations. had not an augur predicted that the love affair of antony and cleopatra would end in blood? she longed to divert her beloved mistress from the passion that threatened to drive her mad. kneeling before her, she laid her head on the queen's trembling knees. "why should you suffer thus?" she said. the girl felt her shoulder warm from the queen's feverish touch. "if i could only hold that cursed woman here in my hands and by a thousand tortures make her expiate the sufferings she has brought me!" cleopatra's voice shook with rage. charmian tried to calm her, but the wound was already festering and the venom of hate was spreading through her veins. with a sudden frenzy she included the whole world in her vengeance as she swore: "i will go to rome itself. i will compel octavius and his sister to go to war, and with bound hands she shall follow my chariot to the capitol!" this extravagant fancy was distressing to charmian. as in a mist she saw the deadly whirlpool sucking them all down in its depths. but wise counsel is impotent in dealing with a mind wild with jealous desire to seize and rend its prey. charmian's gentle words were not regarded. the afternoon was nearly over. the air grew less stifling and fresh puffs of fragrance were wafted in from the magnolia trees. all the shades of the rainbow shone in the sunset light. it was the hour when antony, refreshed and perfumed, after his daily siesta, came to seek cleopatra. she was lying on her couch and, annoyed at his being a little late for their rendezvous, she put her elbow on the sumptuous cushions and held her head as though it were heavy with aching. his step made her tremble, and she had a sullen, troubled expression that indicated a coming storm. antony had no chance to escape. the fatal letter, unrolled from its mother-of-pearl rod, lay on the table. for this letter, for his crime of being friendly with his faithful wife, he would have to pay dearly. as he drew near she overwhelmed him with a flood of violent reproaches. he was a man who could not keep his word. while she, happy in their being together, and awaiting impatiently the coming announcement of their marriage, was full of trust in him, he was playing her false, planning to leave her. he listened silently, and when her first outburst had subsided he tried to plead with her. the political situation compelled him to maintain cordial relations with the sister of octavius, as she was the most valuable and dependable intermediary in his connections with the government at rome. her help was necessary for the protection of his interests there. if he severed this alliance it would entail a war for which he was not prepared. but cleopatra paid no heed. she was burning with jealousy and a desire for vengeance. she would put an end, once and for all, to this rival who had alienated antony's affections. she would require that antony, by an official repudiation of octavia, should break the last bond that held him to the occident, and thenceforth he should belong to her alone. antony was fresh from an interview with ahenobarbus, who had arrived at alexandria the day before, bringing news of the active campaign against him that was going on in italy and warning him of the consequence of his continued stay in egypt. if the thunderbolts that had been let loose in the senate had been turned aside it was solely due to the loyalty of his friends there, but they had defended him because they were counting on his speedy return to rome, on his skill in handling the situation when he came. they would brook no insult to his noble wife. she had the entire sympathy of the state and he would offend public opinion if he dared to put the egyptian woman in her place. no one would come to his defence a second time. patricians and plebeians alike would be on the side of octavius and his sister, and their warm sentiments would be roused in behalf of the abandoned wife and her children. in a gleam of reason, the last perhaps that this warrior-statesman ever knew, antony saw clearly the dire results of his carrying out the demand of his fierce mistress. quivering with excitement he tried to ward off the coming tragedy. "we must be cautious. what demon of jealousy possesses you? the astounding rupture that you are asking me to make will in no way affect our mutual relations. all my life is yours, and only yours. i have no thought but to serve you!" but cleopatra was too enraged to listen to reason. with her long, snake-like eyes, her luscious scarlet mouth, her body curled in a corner of her divan, she seemed like an impregnable fortress. "i will not yield. i have had enough of hearing the romans call octavia your wife and me your concubine. i desire that by a solemn, official deed you proclaim me, cleopatra, as your only lawful wife." the struggle this time was neither so long nor so violent as the one of three years before when antony, moved by the tender devotion of octavia, had defended her against his mistress. to-day, far away, given over to a life of uninteresting virtue, she had less power to hold his affection. cleopatra's insatiable passion won the victory and led to that entire subjugation of will in which a man is no longer a man. his spirit as well as his flesh was conquered. he was as wax in her hands, and when she asserted that octavia had always been the secret ally of her brother, and that both at tarentum and at rome antony had been their plaything, he made no protest and his silence was like acquiescence. but that was not enough. to gain all she wanted it was necessary to rouse in antony a passionate hatred, and as this would not have been possible against the tender, loving wife who had been so faithful to him, she brought up the name of octavius to awaken all the fierce animosity in his soul. to a man of his temperament, impressionable, weak, but devoured with ambition, she held up the poltroon octavius as the man who was seizing the supreme power. "so you will be content with our little eastern kingdom," she sneered, "while he holds dominion over all the countries from illyria to the pillars of hercules!" antony's cheeks blanched. this vision of his colleague's outranking him, possessing greater power, master of vaster territories than his own, sent a shiver through his whole being. such hatred must have an outlet. twice already these rivals had been at the point of flying at each other's throats; of destroying each other; twice the tiny hand of a woman had intervened. to-day it was again a woman's hand that slipped in between them, but this time to stir up anger, to corrupt, to embitter, and this time war was inevitable. ix actium octavius had just come, as he did every few days, to see his sister. although there was always an affectionate intimacy between them, to-day their voices were raised in a manner that suggested a difference of opinion, if not a sharp disagreement. the subject under discussion was the usual one, and the more octavius accused antony the more octavia defended him. "antony is not so much in the wrong as you say. i understand his motives. he writes often. i know how dear rome is to him, that he adores his children. besides, we shall soon see him here." "how can you deceive yourself so? are you blind, my sister, to the infamous way he has treated you? have you forgotten that he sent you back from athens like a servant, without honour, without escort, without even the thanks that your generosity toward him deserved?" no, octavia had forgotten nothing, but her loving heart was ready to excuse all rather than lose the one she loved. but octavius had come to-day to make clear to her a plan which, personally, was not agreeable to him. before publicly denouncing antony he believed that he should first separate his wife from him, and make her an ally against the rival whom he wished to annihilate. he recounted antony's shameful submission to the egyptian, and dwelt upon the scandalous records of his life in alexandria. how could he be so brutal? why did not octavia's sensitive face, reddening at the vile details, turning away, tortured, disarm this executioner? pitilessly he went on. he wanted to search the very depths of her heart to find its tenderest spot. one day, on the parade grounds, with officers and soldiers bearing arms, the staff surmounted by the golden eagle in his hand, the imperator was reviewing the troops. suddenly a messenger approached and said a few words. immediately, disregarding the military display arranged by his order, he left the grounds to rejoin cleopatra, who had summoned him from no other motive than the caprice of being obeyed by one who was commanding so many men! another time he was in the prætorium. the tetrarch of judea was bringing up some important questions in litigation. antony alone was able to decide these, but he heard the royal litter coming and it acted like a wave of madness. without listening to another word he fled from the assembled judges and was seen no more that day. octavius would have gone on indefinitely, for the list, more or less true, of antony's misdeeds in egypt was a long one, but his sister stopped him. "it is enough; he has grave faults but he is my husband. he only has the right to break the tie that unites us. as long as he does not break it i will wait and hope." and though her voice trembled, her expression showed that her determination was not to be shaken. a few days later this noble woman heard that cleopatra's lover had repudiated his lawful wife! nothing had availed; neither her generous goodness, her patience under indignities, nor that hope which is the heart's armour against the menace of destiny, nothing had prevented the fatal blow! poor octavia! the home which her marriage had made her own, the room where in antony's arms she had known happiness, the table where his deep laughter had made good cheer, the garden where they had breathed together the rich fragrance of summer evenings, she had to leave them all, to part with them for ever. the overwhelming sorrow left her listless, inert, like an instrument whose string is broken. octavius, who lost no chance to forward his own interest, and for whose personal advantage each insult inflicted on his sister made capital, had summoned the crowd. notified as to the day and hour that octavia was to leave the palace, the throngs filled the entrances. when they saw her, surrounded by her children, her own as well as the son and daughter of fulvia who had been left in her care, there was a great clamour. her wrongs stirred their indignation, and scornful epithets were heard concerning the libertine who, for the sake of the egyptian sorceress, had abandoned a wife of illustrious blood and noble character. octavia kept silence. she did not want antony's name to be cursed on her account. with the idea of appeasing the crowd she held up her youngest son, who was the living image of his father. the unhappy woman hoped that the sight of this beautiful, innocent child might arouse some affection for the father. antony's divorcing the sister of octavius was equivalent to a declaration of war. in spite of the totally different natures of the two triumvirs, their rivalries, deceptions, the tricks they had played on each other, this gentle woman had been a powerful bond between them. with her and through her there had always been the hope of maintaining a balance. now everything was upset. the violent shock had dislodged the masks and the bare faces showed fear. which would be master? although the real cause of the quarrel was the desire for supremacy, there was now great pretence of its being a struggle for ideals. the words "honour," "patriotism," a "return to republican institutions," were in the mouths of the people. it was difficult to choose between two competitors when each claimed to be fighting to save the honour of the country. octavius lied when he declared that he was ready to lay aside his power; and antony was not honest when he stood forth as the champion of liberty. as in the great contentions between cæsar and pompey, the public was divided, each voter selecting the chief who seemed most likely to advance his interests. the feeling was such that even the children had their share in it. athenodorus tells of seeing two little street urchins in a vigorous fisticuff. "why are you beating each other like that?" he asked. "we are playing; i am octavius," replied one, who had just been chased to the edge of a ditch. "and i am antony," joined in the other, tilting his little chin proudly. although the divorce had produced a most unfavourable impression and had lessened the number of antony's partisans, yet public opinion was not altogether against him. his glorious past, his strength, his riches, made him an adversary to be feared, and one to be attacked only on ground that was wholly unprepared. to destroy his good name and to vilify him as the slave of egypt's queen was octavius's policy. however patient he had sworn to be, octavius was growing tired of working underground like a mole, when suddenly the gods, who seemed on his side, sent him an unexpected assistant. munatius plancus, who in the egyptian celebrations, clad in green silk and crowned with reeds, had played the role of glaucus, "the handy man" as cleopatra had scornfully called him, had just arrived in rome. whether from a desire to avenge his wounded vanity, or a capacity for seeing which way the wind was turning, this contemptible creature, suddenly separated from his former companions, told vile tales about them which made him a welcome guest in the halls of rome. but this social success was not sufficient for a man as poverty-stricken as he was vulgar. he knew that a discovered treason would mean money to him, so he gained the ear of octavius and told him about a document of great importance. it was the will which antony had revised on the eve of his departure for persia, a will making cleopatra his sole heir, dividing the oriental empire between her and her children, and, infatuated even in death, commanding that in whatever land he should die his body be transported to rest near his beloved mistress. plancus did not have the actual document in his possession, for, faithful to his mission three years before, he had deposited it safely in the hands of the vestal virgins; but he knew every word of it and could reproduce it to the letter. the romans attached great importance to the ceremony of burial. it was their universal desire to rest near their own people, in the sacred ground of their ancestors, and where their children would lie in their turn. the thought of dying and of having their graves in foreign lands was horrible to all soldiers, and every one who could afford it left directions for his body to be brought back to italy. of all antony's follies through his mad love for cleopatra, this desire to be buried in egypt was the most detestable, and the one that influenced public opinion most bitterly. octavius felt that if it were moved by this sacrilege he could count on rousing the wrath of the senate and turning the vote against the author of such a crime. the difficulty was to procure the proof. the temple of vesta, modelled after the one at delphi, stood near the forum, at the foot of the palatine hill. octavius had only to cross the via sacra to be at its doors. he set forth with an escort and preceded by twelve lictors, resplendent with the insignia of the government. on reaching the entrance he signalled for them to remain without, and wrapped in his purple toga he mounted the sacred steps unattended. the priestesses of vesta lived in the shadow of the altars. they were young girls of noble birth, clad in snow-white robes with veils over their heads. they had profound reverence for their different duties. these consisted in keeping a perpetual flame burning before the altar, and guarding the palladium, that sacred statue of pallas athene saved from burning troy. they were held in such high esteem that whenever any of the roman pontiffs, proconsuls, or generals were called away from rome, they confided their most precious treasures and priceless papers to their care, rather than risk the chances of travelling with them. for what safer place could be found than this temple whose guardians had for their motto the words: "_die rather than break your oath._" when octavius made known the object of his visit these noble women were filled with righteous indignation. what! give up anything left in their care! be false to their faith! betray the confidence which had relied on their word! the wily visitor pleaded that in a case of service to one's country such scruples were absurd; but the vestal virgins were not to be persuaded. force alone could drag from them what they had sworn to guard. octavius was cautious. his instincts were against using force, and besides, he feared the criticism which any abuse of his power might bring down on his head. sometimes, however, necessity compels. the lictors outside the temple were called in; a few blows of a mallet, and the coffer that a warrior had trusted to guard his treasure gave up its secret. in the senate the reading of antony's will produced the effect that octavius had counted on. for his side it was a triumph. but antony's friends were speechless with consternation. was he so faithless to his country that he did not even wish to be buried there? had he, in truth, ceased to be a roman? octavius, however, was severely criticized for his conduct. caius sossius laid stress on the shameful act. a will was sacred. no one had the right to question what a man ordered done after his death. such interference was illegal; besides, a will could be changed at any time! some senators, faithful to the old traditions, held this view and were incensed at the outrage offered to the vestal virgins. the thing had been done, however, and its consequences were serious. it was the moment to drive the dagger to the hilt. octavius brought up all the old grievances. he emphasized the proof of antony's disloyalty. there were additional charges. one of the surest means of transforming the rich patricians who sat in the senate into pitiless judges was to bring up any injustice done to rome in regard to art. he held up antony as a collector for the queen of egypt, who had robbed greece and asia of their rarest treasures in order to offer them to his mistress. the famous statue of diana, once the glory of ephesus, now adorned the portico of the bruchium. the two hundred thousand volumes from the library of pergamus, intended to enrich the roman collection, had they not been shipped to alexandria? a murmur ran around the senate chamber. ominous frowns were visible. all these men whose dwellings were enriched with books, rare furniture, beautiful marbles, collected in their travels or during their rule over various countries, were as indignant as though antony's offence were without precedent. in hypocritical anger they demanded that a vote on his actions be taken without delay. the urns were passed, and flouted, scorned, pronounced unworthy of office, antony was deprived of all the functions that the republic had given into his keeping. complete as was the victory, it did not satisfy octavius. these assemblies, as he well knew, were subject to quick and complete changes of attitude. what this wily tactician wanted was to give his adversary a killing blow from which he would never recover. a military victory was the only certain means of putting this conqueror of the parthians definitely out of the running. but how could his compatriots be induced to take arms against him? they were tired of civil wars and nothing would be more distasteful than to rise against mark antony, the only great citizen who, since cæsar, had made the roman flag fly over new territories. the same old subterfuge which had succeeded before was once more adroitly employed by octavius. a few days later, leaving out any allusion to antony in his address, not even mentioning that name which was always likely to create enthusiasm, he spoke of the indisputable enemy, the one that was certain to rouse public sentiment. the tiresome repetition of cleopatra's ambition, her persistent intention of attacking rome, these weapons had lost none of their power. the mere mention of her name created almost ferocious excitement. in a second the whole senate was standing up, hurling curses on the hated egyptian. at last war was declared. faithful to the custom consecrated by his ancestors, octavius repaired to the square just beyond the pomoerium, where the temple of bellona, majestic and radiant, stood out against the clear blue of the sky. amidst the acclamations of the wrought-up crowd the dictator threw a gold javelin whose point sunk in the pedestal at the feet of the goddess. this ceremony was to place the army under her divine protection while declaring at the same time the righteousness of the campaign that had just begun. nominally the war was directed against foreign forces, but who could mistake its import? antony was the protector of cleopatra, and on both sides roman blood would stain the battlefield. antony, however, had not awaited the challenge from rome. like the good captain that he was he had planned to forestall the enemy and take the offensive. sixteen legions commanded by canidius were ordered to the coast of asia minor, and he was on his way to join them. a sure means of refuting the libellous statements of octavius occurred to him. he would put aside his mistress and appear alone at the head of his troops. that would show whom they had to fight. but cleopatra objected to this device. she had never forgotten what had happened when antony left her once before. she would take no chance of having her lover caught a second time in a roman trap. with his impressionable character it was necessary literally to keep him in full view, to perform continual incantations over him. so she refused to be separated from him. where he went she went. he should plan no undertaking, no negotiation, without her knowledge and supervision. in vain the imperator dwelt on the inconvenience of having a woman present in the camps. in vain ahenobarbus, with characteristic rudeness, declared that if they were to be encumbered with a court he would retire. through everything cleopatra held to her resolution. "whatever happens," she replied to the malcontents, "nothing shall separate me from antony!" a secret understanding between them doubtless enabled her to take this stand. in any case she acted with the unquestionable authority of one who supplied the ways and means. it was her unlimited wealth that paid the expenses of the campaign. it was her fleet of two hundred brave ships, well-armed and equipped, that prevented the enemy's attack in the mediterranean. whatever was behind it, her decision prevailed, and in the first days of spring, on board the galley _antoniad_, which was decorated as for a fête, the enamoured pair embarked for the final stage of their destiny. never had the treacherous mediterranean been clearer or more tranquil. the blue of sea and sky were blended in soft tones of azure. at sunset amber-coloured ripples passed over its surface, mingled with waves of rose. the sound of the wind in the sails toned in with the music from lyres and flutes. nights of love followed the joyous days, and there was no hint of the fierce storm that was advancing toward the frail vessel. this was only a prelude. at samos, where they landed, at ephesus, where they remained for some time, the lovers took up again the pomp and festivals of alexandria. the old asiatic town, accustomed though it was to luxury, had never seen such displays as these. cortèges of kings, crowned with tiaras and clad in embroidered robes, came every day to antony, bringing soldiers, horses, provisions, everything that could contribute to the success of his campaign. desirous that they should carry back to their own countries an exalted impression of their sovereign, cleopatra made every effort to outshine them. each new arrival served as a pretext for a sumptuous display. spectacle followed spectacle, and princes coming from distant lands to do battle were astonished to find, side by side with the iron-covered chests, brass chariots, and death-dealing engines, troops of acrobats, mountebanks, and their paraphernalia, totally out of place in camp life. at the hour when the whole world was straining under the weight of armaments, when masses of people were on the point of collapse, when the fate of empires was in the balance, this was the way that the mistress of mark antony chose to flaunt her overweening faith that the victory would be hers. antony was far from sharing her confidence. the time for frivolity was over. he recognized the perils of his position. divided between the urgent pleas of his comrades-in-arms, urging him to carry the war at once into italy and give battle there before octavius had time to concentrate his forces, and the fair sorceress who was coaxing him to dally, he was pulled both ways. it was a tremendous game and the chances were not in his favour. to play it successfully cool judgment was essential; and that had never been his strong point. the nervous excitement of his life with cleopatra and the amorous demands of her jealous despotism had robbed him of what little he possessed. his generals added to his perplexities. they were convinced that their imperator would never lead them to victory as long as he was under the malign influence of this woman, and they determined to compel her to leave the camp. ahenobarbus, as always, had the most courage and he took the initiative. he had an interview with the queen, and, knowing the value of his disinterested services, he made no pretence of flattery, but declared brusquely that the confusion which her presence and that of the court was creating exceeded even his worst fears, and that her proper place was at alexandria, where her ministers were calling for her. although antony was of the same mind, he was powerless against the beguilements of a mistress who responded to his most earnest arguments by embraces, kisses, and tears. cleopatra was more unwilling than ever to leave antony exposed to the reproaches of those austere romans who surrounded him. harrowed by their insistence, would he be able to resist that reconciliation with octavius which she knew many of them desired to bring about? in order to go on with her role of the warlike egeria, some support was necessary. this she obtained, by promises and cajolings, from canidius, the general who had most influence with antony. he took the opposite side from that of ahenobarbus, declaring that it was neither just nor wise to banish an ally whose gold, ships, and soldiers formed such an important part of their army; and, with the suavity of a courtier, added that he could not see how the counsels of a great queen, who was as noble and brave as she was beautiful, could possibly harm an army whose courage she upheld by her own. the opposing party was not beaten. the most ardent among them was quintus dellius, for he had all of antony's interests at heart. this wise old juggler in politics had seen very quickly the schemes of the egyptian and had realized that they were entirely contrary to his own advantage and that of his fellow romans. he decided that at all hazards he would save his chief from his present peril, and without circumlocution he said: "cleopatra is leading us to ruin!" enraged at this accusation of the woman who held his heart as well as his reason in her hands, antony cried: "what are you saying? what right have you to make such an assertion?" dellius was ready with explanations which were summed up in his next speech: "i tell you that this daughter of the lagidæ does not bring, cannot bring the same soul to this war that we romans have!" "cleopatra's interests and mine are one and the same," answered antony, haughtily. dellius could not let that assertion pass. "you are mistaken. cleopatra is egypt's sovereign. as long as her crown is secure, provided she preserves the supremacy of the orient, and the commerce which fills her coffers with gold----" a gesture from antony cut him short. the shrewd diplomat realized that while arousing the imperator it might not be bad policy to reassure the lover. "cleopatra loves you. your precious body is more than all the world to her. but can she protect your power as we, your friends, can?--the defenders of your cause who have left everything to follow your standards? if this power is lost what will become of all of us? ruined, hunted, condemned to flee from the vengeance of octavius, what remains for us all but exile?" the imperator strode up and down his tent. he breathed heavily; his emotions seemed to choke him. without having put them in actual words these truths perhaps had been already in his mind. now, as they were laid definitely before him, he had a sudden desire to see clearly, even to the foundations of the situation. "speak!" he commanded. "what reason have you for thinking that the queen has given up her ambition to reign with me in the capitol at rome?" "the advice she is giving you!" "you know what she advises?" dellius promptly recalled the number of times that the queen had opposed their going forward to battle. only a few days before at corcyra, at leucadia, when all the conditions were propitious, she had invented excuses for deferring action. "it makes me believe that cleopatra fears defeat less than she dreads a victory which would make you master of rome!" antony made a signal for his officer to leave him. he needed to be alone. his tent, but feebly lighted by a smoking lamp, was very dim. he dropped on the couch, on which a lion's skin was spread. a storm was near. he felt the earth tremble, and rumbling thunder filled the air. it seemed as though everything most precious to him had received a sudden shock and were whirling around him. could it be true that cleopatra no longer coveted for him the rank of master of the world? in reality cleopatra had not ceased to desire victory for her lover, but she desired it in a manner which, as dellius had pointed out, differed from that of the romans. they, eager to return to their homes and enjoy the rewards that they felt they deserved, urged on the imperator a war to the finish; she did all in her power to hold him back. whether she had lost confidence in those warlike virtues that she herself had helped to weaken, and foresaw the possibility, if she risked all, of losing the heritage of her fathers; whether she dreaded that complete triumph which would lead antony to rome, she had given up her boundless ambitions and was now content with a policy of division. if the dominion of the orient, commanded by antony, were assured to her, she would cheerfully have abandoned italy and its barbarous provinces, gaul, spain, and mauritania, to octavius and the republic. was this unexpected and complete change of purpose caprice or inconsistency? to understand these vacillations, cleopatra's career should be followed step by step from its beginning to the struggles which now racked her heart and soul. the young girl who was mistress of the middle-aged cæsar had no thought but to use her powerful lover for her own best advantage; to obtain the security of her throne and the restoration of her sovereign rights. the meeting with antony at tarsus had made another woman of her. this bold son of hercules roused all her passions and the axis of her life was out of place. tender love-making replaced former ambitious desires. jealousy and hatred entered into her soul and the peace of the world was in danger. if when with antony she had kept the level head and wise reasoning of her youth; if she had let the conqueror of the parthians carry out his ambitious plans, their interlaced names, instead of that of octavius, might have been inscribed on the pantheon of history. but love had taken possession of her and its perpetual suspicions left her no peace. if antony entered rome as victor, what would become of her? and how could she combat that aristocracy that hated her, as she had been able to do when she was sixteen? what cæsar could not accomplish, how could this lover bring about? he was no longer young, and she knew that he was weak. these thoughts tormented her. in the midst of new and varied interests of his own would he still belong to her? would he have the authority to impose her as queen on his people; she, a foreigner, whom the voices of the gods and the people had alike rejected? her conduct can be traced to these fears. she planned to keep antony away from italy; to oppose any decisive action, and gradually bring about a battle on the sea where, in case of defeat, there was always egypt as a refuge. antony's friends were only too conscious of the difficulties which beset him. they had no longer that faith which, on the eve of battle, is a stimulus to those who are to go forth, perhaps to meet death. his generals, too, seeing him so absolutely under the control of the hated egyptian, began to lose confidence in him. they wondered whether the two might not betray them. the idea of a conspiracy against him began to grow. since their leader refused to uphold the sacred memory of pharsalus, of philippi; since he was being turned aside from the goal for which they had risked everything, let another take his place, let a true roman take his place! and by common consent they offered it to ahenobarbus. through anxiety and distress this noble soldier had fallen ill. when his comrades came to seek him they found him stretched on a hard couch of palm leaves which served him for a bed. his teeth were chattering with ague. at their first words he turned away his head. "i will not listen to you." "have you no longer any faith in our victory?" asked dellius. the old soldier's heart gave a leap. he knew that the troops, heedless of the orders which restrained them, were eager to draw their swords. with him at their head what glory might be theirs? but to take command of the army meant betraying antony, his brother-in-arms, the close friend of his youth, the imperator to whom he had sworn allegiance. dellius sat near him and reasoned with him: "if you refuse, what will happen? the egyptian will be our destruction. you cannot let us perish!" with his burning hand ahenobarbus grasped that of dellius: "let me sleep now. i will give you an answer to-morrow." before dawn the next morning a ship set sail for peloponnesus. ahenobarbus left a letter on his table explaining the reason of his going. everything around him was too distressing, too disturbing. in a question of remaining inactive, or of supplanting antony as commander of the army, he preferred to retire. this move was bitterly resented by his companions who had put their hopes in his leadership. all day they waited, thinking that he would regret his decision. when the sun set their eyes were still scanning the horizon. on the morrow, when it was certain that the best and worthiest among them would not come back, dellius and amyntas decided to join him. when antony heard that three of his generals had abandoned him, his brow was covered with icy sweat. his legs trembled; he leaned against the wall to keep from falling. "the best of all," he whispered, and his eyes filled. before others he knew that he must control himself, and, to prevent their example being followed, he invented a tale to explain the departure. according to this falsehood, all three of these men were debauchees, who, unable to remain longer away from their mistresses, had gone to rejoin them. other cases of desertion occurred, however. it was like an epidemic in which the poison spreads quickly. after a scene with cleopatra, who accused him of abusing her to antony, fortunius resolved to quit the nest of hate and intrigue which the headquarters had become. a boat, his baggage, everything was in readiness the following night when, before setting foot on the quay, the senator was seized and put to death. other executions followed and terror was widespread through the camp. antony was a changed man. he had completely lost his old, genial manner. the least annoyance upset him. a storm at sea served to convince him that all the vessels which had preceded him in the gulf of ambracia had gone to the bottom. a prey to a kind of vertigo, he was suspicious of his most devoted friends. he even accused caius sossius, the man who had given endless proofs of his friendship, of having delivered into the enemy's hands a detachment of troops in the passes of epirus. like all his contemporaries, antony had great faith in presentiments. they made an indelible impression on his mind. he saw the will of the gods revealed in them. he never failed to put on his right boot first; he kept silence in the dark; he always left a gathering if a mouse were heard; he never undertook anything without consulting the soothsayers, and only decided when they pronounced the comforting words: "go, the blood of the victims speaks in your behalf." during the last summer that he spent at athens, that summer of the year , when men's minds were seething like liquids in a vat, his statue, put up by the populace in his honour, had been overthrown in a thunderstorm. his terror was such that, while awaiting the doctors, his faithful eros had to rub him vigorously with a strong ointment of warm oil and ammonia to revive him. in the last days of the month of august his deep depression increased. as the inevitable day drew near, in place of the exhilaration, which formerly on the eve of battle had made him like a flashing god, he was sad, exhausted. it seemed as though all his muscular force had been suddenly taken away. for hours he sat motionless, as though the slightest movement would overwhelm him. one morning, however, he came out of his torpor and went on board the _antoniad_ to review the fleet which lay in the bay of actium. it was there that octavius, with his two hundred and fifty triremes with their curved prows, his hundred rapid despatch-boats, awaited him. antony's fleet was much the larger. well armed and equipped with formidable engines, it should have inspired him with confidence. he was cheered when his lieutenant, alexas, called his attention to the good luck presaged by the swallows' nest in the rigging. his face lighted up; he jested. "before another moon the tiny galleys of octavius will have fled before our ships, scattered like a pack of hounds." at last his soldiers recognized their old leader. they gave him an ovation. but the next day other swallows flew in, killed the first and destroyed their young ones. and no sign brought such evil fortune as that! cleopatra, a true greek, had the characteristic grecian philosophy and did not share her lover's superstitions. to be convinced that she had taken all proper measures to insure success seemed more important to her than considering the blood of the victims! she had also that confidence in destiny which is natural to all beautiful women, who imagine that the gods, like men, will obey their wishes. consequently she made her plans carefully, sure that they would succeed. for several days the opposing armies had faced each other. both sides hesitated. confident in the equipment of agrippa's fleet, octavius wanted to force his enemy to a sea battle. perplexed, uncertain, antony could come to no decision. the sea was a new element for his war spirit; he had never won a victory on it, and his officers insisted that he should choose solid ground, the ground of macedonia, rich in glorious memories. the other influence, however, carried the day, for cleopatra had so willed it. she knew that the results of a naval battle are rarely decisive and, in any event, retreat would be easier. it is not certain that she really preferred retreat to victory. its results were hazardous, but the precautions taken showed that she was expecting it. if she did not, why had she arranged those relays between greece and egypt, why had she sent to places of safety the ships laden with gold and precious stones from which she was never separated? and why, above all, had she, on the very eve of battle, had the sails rolled up at the foot of the masts like sleeping sorceresses who would know how to wake themselves when the order for flight rang out? thus all had been foreseen, prepared, made ready. she had only to be sure of that most uncertain and fragile of all things: the heart of a man. the tie which bound antony to his mistress, the fleshly bond that habit had, day by day, made stronger, was of the kind that rarely breaks. she had often had occasion to try its strength. in those latter days, especially, the necessity of having her beloved presence continually near him had become almost an obsession. the more uneasy and anxious he felt, the greater was his need of her. nevertheless, cleopatra was alarmed. it was never possible to know where the intoxication of victory, or the despair of a lost cause, might drag a leader. she knew that his will bent so easily that sometimes the giant became like a little child. the night before the decisive day, the last day of august, which seemed in its splendour to have concentrated all the sunlight of the summer, the lovers spent the evening on board the _antoniad_. around them the brass-bound ships of the egyptian squadron, like floating citadels with their stone towers, swung at anchor. countless stars pricked the dark blue tent of night above them. for an endless moment they stood without exchanging a word. they heard the waves lapping against the side of the boat. it was a continuous sound, prolonged indefinitely, which seemed to express their thoughts before they had time to put them into words. antony sighed: "what will to-morrow bring forth?" "whatever happens, we have the invincible strength of being together." instinctively they grasped each other's hands in the darkness. "yes, our destinies are for ever bound together," antony replied. then, after a moment's hesitation: "if any disaster should occur, if either of us should ... the projectiles will rain down..." she had imagined many possible calamities, but not that a chance blow might kill her lover. at the suggestion, she shivered. "antony, my beloved, do you not know that i could not live without you? i have guarded against that horror. if you die, this dagger, hidden in my girdle, will quickly put an end to me!" in an ecstasy of almost fanatic ardour he pressed her to his heart. he kissed her hair, her mouth. "i love you, i love you," he repeated over and over again, as though the magic words could save her from harm. "and if i am killed, what will you do?" "killed! you! but that is not possible. on the _antoniad_ you will be out of range of the battle!" she looked at him dreamily. "one never knows--we could be separated." he could not imagine anything but death separating them. how could he live without his adored mistress, without her voice, her look? if she had her dagger ready, he had his sword! she diverted him gently to less tragic possibilities. "it is not only my death. one never knows what may happen to divide us." but antony was too wrought up to consider things calmly. "wherever you may be i will make a way to join you." "you swear it?" "i swear it!" at last she had gained what she most desired. let the worst come, they had exchanged vows, and she knew that at her signal her submissive lover would obey. leave the rest to fate. they listened silently, as though in the hope of catching some sign. nothing, always nothing but the monotonous lapping of the waves against the keel. the stars began to grow dim. a rosy tint illumined the summit of the othrys. stirred by the first september breezes, the points of the great masts seemed to trace mysterious signs upon the sky. dawn had come and the lovers must part. "good-bye, my beloved, until this evening," and they turned to their final preparations. an hour later, as antony was walking on the shore, he saw a centurion approaching, covered with scars. "what can i do for you?" he asked, kindly. "oh, my imperator, is it because you scorn us, our swords, our lances, that you are putting faith in those rotten planks?" said the man, pointing to the ships. "for the love of the gods leave the egyptians and phoenicians to paddle in water, since that is their vocation, and trust only in us, your old soldiers, who on solid ground will know how to conquer or to die!" more moved than he cared to show, antony put his hand on the brave soldier's shoulder and went on without reply. it is said that at the very same hour octavius met a man driving an ass, and asked his name. "fortune," answered the man, merrily, "and my beast is called victory." the coincidence is curious. all possible suggestions and explanations have been offered concerning the battle of actium. nevertheless this famous day will always be an enigma, and the reason for the defeat will remain, for all time, a mystery. it was about three o'clock in the afternoon. since early morning the two fleets had been engaged in a fierce battle. as the bronze trumpets shook the roadstead, the galleys, like huge monsters, were rushing at each other. missiles, arrows, balls of burning resin, whistled through the air. the steel prows of octavius's fleet grazed the egyptian mastodons. from their high towers these hurled showers of iron, which struck the enemy squarely. both sides fought with equal ferocity and their blows were deadly. limbs were scattered and heads fell, leaving only bloody masks in sight. no one could have predicted whose powerful machines would win, as they ruffled the surface of the water, a busy swarm that attacked, tormented, recoiled, and returned to the charge. there was a sudden movement, an abrupt lunge, and the _antoniad_, pushing her way through the surrounding ships, made for the open sea at full speed, followed by the royal squadron. what incomprehensible motive had made the queen act in this way? why, with nothing as yet lost, or even compromised, had she given up the battle? many have alleged that it was a deliberate plot with antony. but why should they declare themselves defeated when they were not? no, antony had no part in this premeditated flight. at first he was surprised, confounded. it could not be treason on cleopatra's part! if from a variety of motives she did not want antony to have the final victory, if she acted in a way to make it impossible, she surely did not wish octavius to conquer? the avenger of octavia, the representative of the roman people from whom she had everything to fear? in the face of such astonishing contradictions the only answer is that human actions are not always logical, especially those of women! from early morning cleopatra had been watching the terrible battle. the unspeakable horrors had been too much for her overstrained nerves. for a moment the wing which protected her shifted. the danger of being surrounded, imprisoned, separated from antony, threatened her. she was frightened. the assailants were very near, and her courage suddenly gave way. standing on the bridge, like a frightened bird, she took her bearings. the wind blew from the north. it was favourable, and she took flight. did she think of antony and realize that in flying she condemned him? no, she remembered his promise to follow her, and her heart was comforted. unluckily she had divined only too well. at the first sight of the fleeing galleys antony was puzzled. was it a feint, a trap? would their prows sweep around again and return to the battle more fiercely than ever? then the truth flashed on him. his beloved was leaving him. reason fled, and cleopatra alone filled his heart and brain. forgetting who he was and what was expected of him, losing all thought of those who were dying in his defence, he abandoned his post. a trireme was in waiting, all prepared for his flight, it is said. he threw himself on board and went after the woman who was leading him to ruin. it was evening. a heavy silence weighed upon the sobbing waves. the _antoniad_ had stopped. at her stern cleopatra was awaiting with palpitating heart the life or death issue of the day. at last a light appeared and a boat approached. antony came aboard; but no one would have recognized him. his head was bent and his shoulders seemed to carry the weight of the world. without raising his eyes he crossed the bridge, followed by eros, and reached the farther end of the ship. he dropped on a bench and buried his head in his hands. he felt as though he were at the bottom of an abyss. what had he done? what power, stronger than his will, had brought him there? for a soldier like himself to act as he had done! was he a hero or a coward? a man with such triumphs behind him--and now he was praying for the darkness to hide him! what misfortune could be like his? cleopatra, leaning on the arms of charmian and iras to keep her from falling, watched him at a distance. he looked so morose that she did not dare to approach him. was this the result of all her scheming? and then she saw the horrible blunder that she had committed in the name of love. if she had cared for antony less, or loved him differently; if, from the outset of this unhappy campaign, she had only left him to follow his instincts as a warrior, he would not have been sitting there, a desperate man, his head bowed in shame! what a fool she had been! why had she urged him to this battle against the will of all his counsellors? why, above all, had she led this retreat ... this flight, which she herself could not understand, so quick and irresistible had been her impulse? she asked herself whether, if she had had any doubt as to antony's following her, she would have sailed away as she had done. and she knew that if she had not had the certainty that wherever fate took her he would come, she would have had greater strength to carry on the struggle; that she would have been braver in the face of danger. she had slipped away because of her selfish confidence that in egypt she would have him for ever. and now, before this broken-down man, who had no further feeling for her, all her wild folly was borne in on her. how could she imagine that antony could live when his honour was gone from him? she turned her tear-stained face to charmian. "do you think he can ever forgive me?" worn out with the horrors of the long day, the greek girl was trembling. the carnage had frozen her blood. at the moment of the queen's flight, although her terror was abated, she had felt that disaster, greater than any that had yet come, was close upon them. now she could only say: "antony is a ruined man!" iras was younger and had more faith in the power of love. "go to him, madame, see how he suffers! your presence will comfort him!" cleopatra took two or three steps toward him, but eros warned his master, and antony, clinging to his despair as to, a saving grace, shook his head as a sign that he wished to be left alone. for three days and three nights he stayed there, without consolation. all his limbs seemed dead. he refused all food and was unconscious of the thirst that dried his tongue; but his mind was keenly awake to torture him. his slave knew his humiliation of grief and said at last: "will you destroy the life that is so precious to us?" "my life has no longer any value; glory was its only excuse for being. i am now like a man robbed and left naked by the roadside," replied antony. "but all is not lost; your friends..." "i have no friends. who stays by you in adversity? foreseeing my defeat, no doubt those on whom i most counted have already deserted." crouching before the man whom he had always looked on as a demigod, eros embraced his knees. "others are faithful. i know those who would shed their last drop of blood to save you." "yes, you, my poor eros, i know it well. but it is not your blood that i need now, but a promise." eros looked at him lovingly, submissively. "swear that the instant i command you to do it, you will deliver me from the curse of existence!" startled by these words, the slave jumped up, rebellious. "i will never swear that." antony turned away. "go away and let me hear no more of your devotion!" it was brutal treatment to the slave who had just offered his life and would have given it willingly. he protested, stifling a sob: "my sword, my hands, my life, all are yours, my master. but as to the oath that you demand, if i tried to execute it, the hand that seized the weapon would, in spite of all that i could do, pierce my heart rather than yours!" left to herself, now burning, now shivering with fever, cleopatra was forlorn. was antony going to die? did he no longer love her? she went over in memory the days when, at the least sign from her, he was ready to crush her to his heart. how many messages she had written him in these last three days that he had not taken the trouble to open; and again she had the torturing thought that she herself had destroyed her own happiness. but grief is not endless, and passion, however shameful, is stronger than remorse. days passed, and then antony turned toward cleopatra. they rested side by side, not daring to look into each other's eyes. the language of silence was sufficient. words had no power to express their thoughts. there was no need to speak of their shattered hopes, to allude to that one fatal instant which had put them among the vanquished. deeper than their anguish, keener than the mortification to their pride, which had had no limits, was the intoxicating joy of being once more together. it wiped out all other feeling. it was irresistible, and their passionate love seemed all-sufficient, obliterating all other claims. "forgive me! i love you so!" his mistress pleaded, and antony took her in his arms. free for the moment from that remorse which was to poison all the rest of his life, he rested his head on the breast for which he had renounced the world. a kiss from cleopatra was worth more than all the kingdoms of the earth! x the death of cleopatra they were again in alexandria. the people, deceived by the couriers that cleopatra, for fear of an insurrection, despatched in advance, had welcomed them as returning conquerors. the city, from one end to the other, was hung with garlands; waving palms and arches of flowers made a triumphal way for them. but this joy was short-lived. when the tragic collapse at actium was made public the people were stupefied. the defeats on land were equally appalling. each day fresh details of the downfall were brought in by the arriving vessels. then came the news of the surrender, practically without a struggle, of the legions of canidius; then of the oriental commands, which, one by one, had withdrawn from the lost cause, and by bribery and treachery were seeking the good graces of their new master. last came the tidings that italy, as one body, had turned against her former idol, and with the fury of a trust betrayed, was clamouring for his death. for the first few days antony still kept some illusions. with the remains of his scattered troops he imagined he might be able to save, if not the vast empire which his former victories had created, at least the portions of it which belonged to cleopatra. when he knew that his troops at arcamia had fled; that the army at cyrenaica, the best protected point in egypt, had gone over to octavius; when he heard of the treason of alexas, his lieutenant, who owed everything to him, and also that of herod, whom he had made king of the jews and showered with gifts--he felt as though the end of the world had come. so these were the men he had trusted! in his prosperity he had seen only their flattering faces and had been blind to their possible perfidy. with such an outlook he gave way to overwhelming depression. he went over the past with vain self-reproach and accusations. and above all he condemned his over-confidence and his lack of recognition of his adversary's forces. the thought of cleopatra only aggravated his anguish and remorse. with that terrible clearness which follows disaster he beheld her as his blinded eyes had never before seen her. all the mistakes he had made at her command vanished like phantoms in the distance. to-day she was the one to rally quickly to retrieve their failure, to build anew their cherished plans. cleopatra was not a woman to be subdued. however weak she had been at the critical moment, the resources of her energy were boundless. whenever she seemed in the lowest depths of misery unlooked-for strength enabled her to rise again. her strong love of life compelled her, in the face of all misfortunes and disappointments, to look toward the future. in his despair this buoyancy irritated antony. he could not understand it. her attitude, in contrast to his own, exasperated him. seeing her now as the sole cause of his downfall, he wanted to get away from her. many times he prepared to leave her, but always her beautiful arms were about his neck and held him back. one day, however, in one of their frequent controversies, she reproved him sharply for his inertia, and his old pride rose up. it was too much for him to have to submit to reproaches from her who had been his undoing. since his ways no longer pleased her he would put a wall between them. an old tower of the pharaohs stood on the edge of the river; in memory of timon of athens he called it his timonium, and shut himself up there, with the intention of spending the rest of his life alone. accustomed as she was to his violent changes of temper, cleopatra was not seriously alarmed. "antony a morose hermit-philosopher; it is too absurd!" she cried, a smile of incredulity on her lips. "i will give him just two weeks to be back at my feet." in the meantime what should she do? her active imagination was busy. she thought that should ill fortune decree that the conqueror of actium be one day the master of egypt, she must find a way to escape him. the far-off indies offered ideal conditions. travellers to that country had brought back fascinating accounts of it. if she and antony had to seek a refuge, why not find it in that land of enchantment, where delicious visions filled the air, where the perfume of the flowers induced blissful slumber, where the constellations of the heavens, surpassing in brilliancy orion, the swan, and cassiopeia, were reflected in the mirror-like waters? how was she to reach this magic land? it was useless to think of going by the mediterranean and passing the pillars of hercules, which were guarded by roman sentinels; but the red sea was there, then gidda, then the ganges! she need only move her fleet across the isthmus of suez and embark with all her treasures. this romantic flight appealed to her adventurous spirit. she would not run the risk of being enslaved for lack of taking a short step. and she threw herself body and soul into this new enterprise. an army of workmen were sent to pelusium. enormous chariots, like those that formerly transported the stones of the pyramids, were built, to be drawn by oxen. everything went on at great speed. several ships had already crossed the sandy desert and were launched in the gulf of arabia when--she had not counted on this--agents of octavius landed at alexandria! treason had done its work. all was destroyed, given over to pillage. what could not be carried off was cast to the bottom of the sea. it was a cruel blow. was she no longer to be that creature blest of the gods, before whom the elements yielded, like subjects to a queen? she had the feeling that henceforth, whatever she undertook, ill-fortune held her in its grip and would never loose its hold. but it was not in her nature to yield. since flight was impossible she would arrange for resistance. with redoubled energy she recruited fresh troops, equipped new ships, and negotiated alliances. alexandria was fortified. in order to rouse the inhabitants to the defence of their city, she put cæsarion's name on the list of the militia. cæsar's son was just eighteen years of age. clad in his first armour, standing in his stirrups, this young man, who was meant to persuade rather than command, recalled the memory of his father. in a clear voice he cried: "soldiers and citizens, your future king goes out to fight with you. together we will use our swords against the usurper of cæsar's name." applause broke out. "octavius shall not enter these gates," screamed a thousand voices that rang out like cymbals. cleopatra stepped out of her litter, from which she had been looking on at the scene. many who had been applauding her son now prostrated themselves before her. beautiful always, whether under the helmet that she wore in camp, or enveloped in the veil of isis, she never failed to inspire admiration. when he saw how much loyal devotion the queen could still command, antony was ashamed of his inaction. besides, he could no longer stay away from her. although his feeling for her was sometimes more like hate than love, she was necessary to him. one day, when his heart was heavier than usual, he realized how futile it was to try to endure life without her, and, full of repentance, he quitted his lonely retreat which had failed to bring him the coveted peace of mind. cleopatra was not surprised. she had known well that antony, who in order to follow her had abandoned his post in battle, could not persist in his solitary confinement. she welcomed him with open arms. "come to me! we have never needed each other as we do now!" it was true; in their misfortune they had only each other. but their love had received a mortal wound. what each had done had placed an indelible shadow between them. carried away by their violent natures they took up again the disputes and recriminations which had formerly forced them to separate. antony, especially, was incapable of hiding his rancour. at every turn he brought up the subject of the fatal day at actium, which had marked him with dishonour like the brand of a red-hot iron. at other times their mutual sufferings drew these unhappy beings closer together. it made an indestructible bond. the hot breath of their guilt passed over them and they felt the irresistible need of uniting their forces. they tried to go back to happier days and gather some of their old associates about them. with these old companions of their dissipations they formed a society, no less magnificent than the inimitables, but with another name. this, which was called "synapothanumenes"--inseparable in death--showed the state of mind of the two lovers. they had the same idea. they knew the god to whom their future libations would be consecrated. their companions knew, also. their feasts were as gorgeous as those of former days. they meant to rise above the common herd and show that they were determined not to endure a degrading lot, but to enjoy the days that remained to them. suicide was a virtue among the ancients; the final act imposed on them by misfortune. when life was no longer the distaff from which clotho spun days of silk and gold, they gave it up, simply, as a useless thing. to put an end to himself antony had the soldier's recourse, his sword, which, like that of cato and of brutus, was always at hand against the moment when he saw that the game was finally lost. cleopatra's death would be more difficult. for those whose path through life has been strewn with flowers, whom youth still holds with magic arms, that last leap in the dark is a rude shock. to die was easy, but it must be done so that the accustomed harmony of life be not disturbed. how could she manage so that her lovely features, her fragrant body, should not be marred? as an artist who wanted to keep her place before the coming ages, pretending that her death had been a glorious one, cleopatra had given much thought to this subject. she was prejudiced against using the ordinary poisons of the time. perfectly familiar with the method employed to punish a conspirator, to get rid of an unworthy minister, or of an undesirable husband, she preferred the knife which left its deadly mark. the result of the usual poisons left her indifferent. what matter how many convulsions a dying enemy had? but for herself she wanted to study the matter carefully. she summoned olympus, the celebrated physician. he was versed in all branches of his art, having studied the effects of certain plants in assyria, such as henbane and belladonna, which latter caused death or recovery, according to the strength of the dose. in making her desire known to him the queen said: "your fortune is made if you give me the means of quitting life painlessly and with no risk of spoiling my beauty." olympus was thoughtful. the queen's demand was beyond his power; but he would do his best. he got together a group of physicians and they set to work. from the mysterious laboratory in a retired corner of the palace which had been set aside for them, red lights burned at night and sickly, bitter odours went up. experiments soon began. they were made on criminals who were condemned to punishment. the first results were terrifying. forced to drink the deadly liquid, the unfortunate men writhed, their twisted limbs beat against the air, their distorted faces took on a greenish hue, and a hissing sound came from their dry throats. and this went on and on--prolonged indefinitely. new combinations gave better results. the patients had a burning sensation, but the poison devoured them quickly and they fell, asphyxiated. "try again, again," commanded cleopatra. "your reward will be in proportion to your success." one morning, olympus requested an audience. his eyes shone under his bushy brows. at last he had found the right thing. accompanied by the devoted attendants who had sworn to die with her, cleopatra went down into the bottom of the prison where the executions took place. she would judge with her own eyes. a door opened and two colossal egyptians entered, leading in chains a slave who had struck his master. he was a strong man and made a vigorous attempt to resist; but a funnel was placed in his upturned throat and the liquid ran down in spite of him. the effect was almost immediate; some convulsive starts, then a swoon. the man dropped between the arms that held him; he was dead. a cold shiver ran over cleopatra. rapid as it had been, the scene left a horrible impression on her. iras had not been able to stand it and was carried out fainting. "can you find nothing gentler?" asked charmian, her face pale with fear. "not in the vegetable kingdom," said olympus; "but there is the venom of serpents. you will see now." at the same moment the door was opened to admit a young woman who had been condemned to death for killing her child. she was very beautiful and her tears made her all the more appealing. she fell at the queen's feet, begging to be spared. the ethiopians lifted her up. "have no fear," said olympus. "you will feel no pain." but she still implored pardon. "let me live, i want to live!" she cried. there was a sudden silence. without her knowing it the puncture had been made. her lids closed, her limbs were heavy, she seemed asleep. her heart had ceased to beat. her face gradually relaxed, but lost none of its beauty. thus, painlessly, as though sleep had come, life had gone out. from that time cleopatra was content. her way of escape had been found. the conqueror of actium would never carry her off alive. but catastrophe was coming quickly. pelusium had been captured and razed to the ground. octavius's troops were camping under the walls of the parsetonium. in this crisis what was to be done? two hundred years before the days of knight-errantry antony had a vision of knighthood. he would challenge his enemy to single combat. if he might only decide this mighty war in a tilting match and show the world, in full view of his lady and before the united armies, what a hero he was at heart! vain hope! when octavius, without any risk whatever, had won the victory, why should he, coward that he was, expose himself to a fatal thrust? "go tell your master," he said to the officer who brought him the challenge, "that antony can find several other ways to end his life!" before beginning the struggle which would settle egypt's fate, and in spite of the humiliation of making any further request of a rival who had treated him so insolently, antony tried, by generous self-sacrifice, to save cleopatra's throne. if octavius would promise to insure her sovereignty he offered to live near her, without arms, without titles, like an ordinary citizen. octavius did not even condescend to make any reply. several matters, however, were distracting his mind. traitors and spies were not lacking in alexandria and they reported that the queen was experimenting with poisons and that, before her death, she had determined to set fire to her vast treasures. now octavius coveted these riches. the person of cleopatra herself, which he regarded as the most brilliant trophy of his triumph, was scarcely more precious in his eyes. how was he to save these two treasures? like the scheming man that he was, he consoled himself with the idea that all women, however arrogant when in power, are rarely so in adversity, and that undoubtedly terror, and the hope of gaining something from the present conditions, would make his beautiful enemy gracious. the main thing was to deceive her. consequently it was with her, and with her only, that he consented to enter into negotiations. he sent an ambassador to the bruchium to represent him as inflexible; while, at the same time, thyreus, a secret agent, slily, like all who do dirty work, intimated to the queen that a reconcilation was by no means impossible. fascinated by her charms, as all the great roman leaders had been, octavius wanted her to know that far from treating her cruelly he only asked the honour of serving her! it is seldom that a woman fails to believe such flattery. cleopatra, whose life had been a succession of conquests, to whom all the world had burned incense, was easily persuaded that she had a new worshipper. in spite of her experience of the world she might have been deceived by this mirage if one brutal condition had not accompanied the proposition. the demand was nothing less than the betrayal of antony. what octavius really wanted was to get him out of the way. his great, humiliated rival annoyed him. a roman general could not be chained to his chariot as artabazes or vercingetorix. besides, with even a broken sword, his high-spirited enemy, defeated though he was, could dispute every inch of ground with him, and retard the final victory; and the dictator was anxious to end his combat definitely and return to enjoy his triumph in italy. unhappy cleopatra! "how he must despise me to suggest such a bargain!" she groaned. although her feeling for antony was not what it once was; although the fugitive from actium and the hermit of the timonium had shown a weakness which was fatal to her woman's passion, yet she was indignant at the idea of such baseness. too cunning not to take advantage of any possible chance of gain for herself, however, she took part in the exchange of trickery and, without refusing the proffered negotiations, asked time to consider them. spies, as has been said, infested the halls of the bruchium, and one of them, the same, probably, who had brought word to octavius, notified antony that octavius desired his death and that cleopatra had promised to give him up to thyreus. at this news antony had one of his outbursts of fury which swept over him like a hurricane. betrayed! sold by the woman for whom he had sacrificed everything! he thought of revenge. should he slay her? he would rather put a dagger through his own heart. should he kill himself? no, for his rival was waiting for her. jealousy devoured him. like his mighty ancestor, hercules, he wore the shirt of nessus and its poison tortured him. to love and to see in his beloved his bitterest enemy! his suspicions reached such a point that he would touch no dish until cleopatra had tasted it, for fear of her poisoning him. justly indignant at such outrageous distrust, cleopatra decided to inflict a lesson on the ingrate. it was toward the end of the supper. they were reclining side by side on the purple couch. she had amiably gratified the demands of the new order which required her to be served first. for a final libation she half emptied a cup of clear wine. a rose was in her hair. she drew it out, dipped it in the wine and, turning to antony, said: "will you drink to our love in this cup?" he agreed and put the cup to his lips. with a quick motion she restrained him. "stop! see how silly your suspicions are. if i had any of the horrible intentions that you credit me with there are countless ways for me to carry them out. that flower was saturated with poison!" embarrassed, and not daring to meet her eyes, antony fell at his mistress's feet. would she forgive him? the little time he had left to live was not long enough to expiate the crime of which he had been guilty. he prophesied better than he knew. there was only one day between him and the one when all would be settled. in that day, at least, he would accomplish wonders. it was the lion reawakening. the brilliancy of his warrior instinct would blaze out for the last time and show that, left to his own genius, he would have been a mighty hero. the enemy's army was only a few furlongs from alexandria. a hostile populace, on the point of treason, was not eager to defend it. the imperator got some troops together, those who had been faithful to him through everything, and by a surprise attack, which there was no time to return, he fell on the cavalry of octavius. routed, pursued, the latter crossed the nile in disorder and went back to the old intrenchments. for that day, at least, alexandria was saved. drunk with a happiness that he had despaired of ever feeling again, antony cried, "victory, victory," continually. yes, for a last farewell victory had come again and placed a crown on the forehead of the master who had won it so many times in vain. the old passionate love flamed in cleopatra's heart, and her antony was the magnificent, intrepid hero of former days. seeing him in the distance, surrounded by banners, she left her window and ran down to welcome him. in a transport of joy he leaped off his horse to press her to him, and these two, whom adversity had divided, were united again in the glory which was their native element. in the delight of being together all their past grief and bitterness were forgotten. there was great rejoicing that evening in the old palace of the lagidæ. the bravest soldier had a shower of gold. one of them was honoured by an antique golden armour, with the sparrow-hawk of the ptolemys. the citterns and pipes resounded and the national songs were sung. it seemed like a revival of the days when the imperator was distributing kingdoms. feeling that the hours were few and precious, the lovers grudged wasting any in sleep. it was a clear, mild night, when the soul is conscious of its own insignificance under the overwhelming vastness of the oriental heavens. they wandered about the gardens until they reached the farther end, the place where cleopatra had watched antony disappear in the distance at their first parting. the rhythmic swell of the waters against the parapet sounded like their own heart-beats. to the right, the seven-storied beacon seemed to defy the stars; and above shone the crescent moon, whose silver reflections were like scattered petals in the sea. this scene that they had so often looked on together carried them into the past. standing there in silence, the exquisite joy of their former happiness was born anew, and tender memories of passing words, trifling incidents came back. they recalled those days at tarsus, when in the first flush of youth they had embarked on their life-voyage with no thought of possible storms. "do you remember that first evening?" she whispered. "yes, your robe was clinging, iridescent, like the burnished breasts of doves." there were other memories, hours of grief as well as joy; but they agreed that the most precious moments were those when they had each forgiven the other for some wrong. the present hour crowned them all. they felt as though they had traversed vast distances to find each other, and the certainty of faithful love from then until death obliterated all memory of rancour, suspicion, jealousy which had marred their life in the past. they were beginning a new existence here, surrounded by the bridal fragrance of the orange blossoms. the wind arose. the sky changed from deep, tender blue to lead colour. a huge winding-sheet seemed suddenly spread over the face of the waters. trembling with terror, cleopatra clung to antony. "are you cold?" he said. "yes! no! i do not know. i feel as though darkness had entered into my soul!" he smiled at her fancies. although more easily discouraged than she, and more inclined to melancholy, he attached an exaggerated importance to the skirmish of the day before. "fear nothing," he cried, "i am strong again, and good fortune is ours once more!" the words were scarcely out of his mouth when they heard a cawing above their heads. the crows were predicting evil things. it was antony's turn to tremble. he looked at the horizon. the coming dawn revealed a monstrous fleet of ships crowded together opposite the channel. he recognized the same vessels which had faced him at actium, and his quivering hand grasped cleopatra's. pressed close together, like those who are terrified on a dark road at night, they retraced their way. the steps showed white between the dark masses of the trees. they climbed up them slowly, as though weighed down by fatigue. on the last terrace they stopped. never had the moment of leave-taking seemed so ominous. they were facing the fatal day. their lips met. "good-bye." "good-bye"--and their voices died out in space. the attack of the day before had put octavius on his guard and he had passed a sleepless night. he had exhorted his men to take a firmer stand, reproached them for being put to flight by a few companies of soldiers. "and that," he added, "at the very gates of alexandria! at the moment when you were within reach of enough booty to have secured a home for every one of you!" no further stimulus was needed. at the same time emissaries were sowing corruption in antony's camp. they threatened to punish with reprisals from rome the men who remained loyal to antony; to the others they promised an amnesty. under these conditions the battle began. antony's new-born hope soon fell to the ground. in the very first attack the desertions began. seized with panic, the brave men of yesterday became the fugitives of to-day; and among them, by a cruel irony of fate, he recognized the hero on whose shoulders cleopatra had placed the golden armour. to have thought that he could move the world according to his wish, and to look on at this! in despair antony cast aside his buckler and exposed his bare breast to the blows. if a sword would only put an end to him! but the hour was not yet. the right to die is given only when the last effort has been made. and first, he must prevent a complete rout. alone he undertook the titanic task. he was all over the field; on every side his wrathful gestures were seen. with the flat of his sword he threatened, he struck. his fierce voice resounded: "miserable traitors who change masters at a word!" but his imprecations were not heard. the confusion was universal and the city fell quickly. octavius passed the gates on horseback, all the legions following him. there was one more chance: the fleet. but there, again, treason was rampant. the men stubbornly refused to fight. oars in hand, they welcomed as comrades the men whom yesterday they had regarded as enemies. all was lost. no heroic effort could have saved the day. antony realized it and the roar of the blood in his ears deafened him. he went on like a demented man, surrounded by threatening fists and curses. instinct led him to the bruchium. the approach to it was in wild disorder. his heart stood still. "the queen! where is the queen?" he demanded. an agonized silence was his answer. all the javelins of presentiment were at his heart. "cleopatra!" he cried loudly. he was heard. an officer came from the royal apartments. his face was sad. before he could speak the lover understood. "dead?" "yes, with your name on her lips!" at first the dread word had no meaning. dead! she who filled the world. dead! had the daylight died, could heaven or earth die? little by little the frightful truth dawned on him. he understood that he would see her no more. it was like a command given, as though he had heard the long-expected hour strike. he went back to his tent. in these days of cowardice and treason eros had never left his side. his brave arm had often warded off the blows aimed at the imperator. seeing him stagger at times, he had brought him reviving draughts. now they were alone together. antony controlled himself. "come, eros, the time is here. the queen has set the example. draw your sword. let me expiate the disgrace of a defeat." the slave turned his head. his arm refused to obey. "you promised me!" "master, do not ask the impossible. you whom i have just saved from the enemy's arrows! how can i?" "do you want to see me ruined, humiliated?" no, eros would not see that. he grasped his sword firmly, and spinning the blade so rapidly that it seemed to make an aureole around him, he hurled himself upon it with outstretched arms, and fell face downward, at the feet of his master. tears rolled down antony's hollow cheeks. "brave eros! you have shown me how to die," and he whirled his sword in like manner. the blow, unfortunately, had not the force of the one that killed his slave; antony still breathed. he called, and the soldiers of his guard ran toward him. "strike," he commanded. "stop my sufferings!" but no one of them dared lay hands on that stately body from which such glory had shone. but cleopatra was not dead. on hearing that the army of octavius, meeting no resistance, was marching on alexandria her one idea was to save herself from the invader. the mausoleum where her treasures were gathered offered a safe refuge, and there she resolved to die. but, once behind its iron grating, shut away from the living world, a cold chill ran over her. was this the moment? undoubtedly. there was nothing further to hope for. the last game had been played and lost. servitude, captivity, with their threatening humiliation hung over her. yet she hesitated. why? the image of antony was before her, vanquished, dishonoured, destroyed. did she care to see him again? no, all was over between them. their meeting place would be elsewhere, in those fields of asphodel that bloom in the land of shadows. why did she, who had so valiantly accustomed herself to the idea of dying, whose heart had nearly ceased beating, fall on charmian's shoulder and cry bitterly? her hand caressed the jade handle of the tiny dagger that she always carried, and she murmured, "i cannot!" was she thinking of breaking her promise? no, she would not survive her lover. she did not want to live. but, in the compact they had made, there was always the dread in the heart of each that the first one who went to the undiscovered country might not be followed. if she died, antony, instead of joining her in death, might go to octavia; and again her jealous soul imagined another of those reconciliations between them which had disturbed the peace of the world. she would take no chance of that. if she must go down into hades at least she would be sure that her lover had gone before her, and so she sent him the false report of her death. for the next hour the queen suffered tortures in the depths of her mausoleum. how had antony received the news of her death? there was a sudden noise. a crowd gathered outside the walls. cleopatra looked through one of the narrow openings which served as windows. merciful gods! what was that the soldiers were carrying on a stretcher? it was antony. after he had wounded himself antony heard that his beloved was still living and he wanted to see her once again. his arms were stretched out to her despairingly. how could he reach her? how get past the iron grating which protected the mausoleum? and then a scene occurred, harrowing and barbaric, one of those superhuman acts which, viewed across the centuries, seems more fabulous than real. with the help of charmian and iras, cleopatra threw down ropes from the roof and the wounded man was fastened to them. what a load for the frail arms of women! but, had it been heavier still they would have found strength to lift it up, for love made their muscles sturdy. at last antony was in his mistress's arms. she held him close and her burning tears fell over him. "my lover! my hero! and i did not trust you!" and antony, heedless of his torn flesh that the least motion tortured, pressed close to her. "cleopatra! beauty of the world! i am dying! let me have your lips once more!" she pressed him close. a few words, sobs, and the last breath went from him. falling beside the lifeless form of him who had been her joy and pride, cleopatra tore her breast. "most generous of men! this is where my love has brought you!" when octavius heard of antony's death he was not overjoyed. his royal prey had escaped him. he must secure cleopatra at once, before she came to herself and found strength to carry out her mysterious plans. to gain entrance to the mausoleum was not easy. proculeius, son-in-law of mæcenas and, like him, blindly devoted to octavius, undertook the task. he was an old friend of antony's, one of those who, although they had gone over to the adverse camp, still retained a certain regard for him. antony, when dying, had designated him as the only one whom cleopatra might trust to defend her interests and those of her children. therefore, when he came, bearing the condolences of octavius and of the roman army, and asked the queen to receive him, she could not refuse. suspicious, as always, and determined to open the doors to no one, she tried to rise from her bed and go to receive her visitor in a lower hall, which communicated with the outside only by a grating. but all caution was vain. while the deceitful messenger discussed, across the iron bars, the magnificent obsequies which octavius was planning in honour of his great rival, his confederates effected a most cowardly entrance. cunningly as the plan was arranged, however, cleopatra heard the noise. for a moment she did not answer her questioner. with anxious ears she listened to what was going on overhead. then a door was flung open. charmian came in. "horror! treason! we are invaded!" she cried. with ropes and cords the assassins that proculeius had brought had scaled the walls. they burst in. "queen, you are a prisoner!" said one, as he approached her. "not while living!" cried cleopatra, proudly, and drew from her girdle the tiny dagger which she had kept for such a moment. too late! the weapon was snatched from her hand! yes, cleopatra was a prisoner. through the lowered grating which she had sworn never to lift, she was led back to her palace between files of roman soldiers. octavius was at last in possession of the long-coveted treasure. he was anxious to have an inventory made immediately. preceded by slaves bearing flaming torches, he went through the subterranean vaults which cleopatra had planned to burn. it was a world in itself. marvellous works of art, priceless jewels, rare woods, rugs, were piled up to the vaulted ceilings. many ships were needed to convey even the store of precious metals to ostia. however phlegmatic this usurer's son might be, he could not restrain an exclamation of delight, which came from his heart, in passing through these stores of ingots, these piles of coins. these would put an end at last to the embarrassments which had plagued him since the indiscretions of his youth. all his debts would be paid. his legionaries would receive generous donations, over and above their just wages, that would attach them to him for life. with the stream of gold which would flow from this inexhaustible purse he could buy solid devotion. was he not certain of wearing that imperial crown which cæsar had barely lifted? the people of alexandria, who dreaded devastation and advocated a policy of prudence, welcomed the invader warmly. exhausted by fifty years of revolutionary disturbances, they were only too willing to have a government that promised peace. the monarchial principle was, however, so deeply rooted in these servitors of the lagidean dynasty that the surest way to obtain their respect and submission was to replace one crowned head by another. the imperator was no sooner seated on the throne than numerous well-wishers came to pay homage to him. anxious to establish general friendly relations, he took care to flatter the pride that each alexandrian cherished in regard to his beautiful city. theatres, palaces, museums, temples above all--for he understood the importance of the priests' vote for the retention of the throne--were included in his carefully devised project. concerned in all that could enrich his mind and help to forward the glory and magnificence of the reign of augustus, he interested himself in the schools, the gymnasiums, the library. he cultivated the learned men of the serapeum, and was much gratified at meeting there the philosopher, areus, who had been his professor at athens. he promised to continue the independence which students had enjoyed under the former kings. the visit to the soma, that gigantic mausoleum, where the body of alexander of macedon lay in its crystal coffin, was of tremendous interest to a man whose only thought was glory. it is said that cæsar, in the presence of the illustrious remains, had exclaimed: "i weep, because at my age this man had already conquered the world." his nephew, even more ambitious, examined the mummy long and carefully. he seemed to be questioning it, as though he were not satisfied with merely looking at the earthly form of him who had conceived and carried out such marvellous ambitions. he had the lid which covered the body raised, and, greedy to the point of profanation, he dared to handle the skull. cleopatra had been taken back to her apartments in the bruchium. she was kept carefully out of sight of the people. honours were not lacking; but these honours merely served to accentuate the fact that she was a captive, as they were all rendered by roman functionaries. for fear of poison her clothes, her boxes, her person even, were continually searched. her greatest trial was the continual presence of epaphroditus, a eunuch of octavius, who, according to instructions, played the part of courtier and under his obsequious manner concealed his role of jailor. emotion, disaster, grief, had finally broken cleopatra's buoyant nature. that wound she had made in tearing her breast had become inflamed. fever set in. the physicians pronounced the malady serious, possibly fatal. for an instant the unhappy woman believed that the merciful gods were going to save her from self-slaughter; and she gave herself up to the disease as to a generous current. so far from resisting it, she aided it, refused all medicine, and would take no nourishment. octavius was alarmed. although he had obtained the treasure, he wanted the woman as well. he desired her perfect, not injured in any way. in all her beauty she would be the crowning glory of his triumphant return to rome. trusting no one but himself to look after her health, which for that cruel reason was precious to him, he sent her word of his visit, thinking by this mark of respect to disarm his captive and deceive her as to his motives. his calculations, at first, seemed successful. on hearing that the imperator was coming to see her cleopatra improved somewhat. she decided to defer dying for the present! before that irreparable deed she wished to see her enemy, to know what she was to hope or to fear from him. much has been written on the meeting of these two remarkable figures, who, after the manner of augurs, approached each other wearing masks. the object of the imperator was definite. but what was her dream? what temptations assailed that mistress of the art of seduction to try her fatal powers once more? what hope did she have in those last days? that was the undiscoverable secret of a soul already on its way to eternity. those historians whose accounts of augustus are full of adulation have described this scene as typical of the chaste and grave son of theseus who was able to resist the seductions of the cursed courtesan. perhaps, under other conditions, cleopatra would still have kept this role of courtesan; but, at this time of infinite weariness, with her wounded breast, her tired eyes, her feet still trembling from having felt her throne crumble beneath them; after having buried the man whom she adored, and having in her mouth the bitter taste of emptiness, could she still have played the part of a coquette? her keen intelligence, apart from her dignity, would have kept her from such a false step. with no intention of beguiling him, no hope of finding in him another cæsar, or an antony, she surely had the privilege of using what remained of her charms, scarred by thirty-eight years of passion and misfortune, to soften the heart of her captor. as to succeeding...? the two antagonists were face to face. bowing courteously, octavius took the chair near her bed that the queen had pointed out. then, as customary when greeting an invalid, he inquired as to her health. with a sigh, she replied: "you can see. i have no strength left." abruptly he broached the subject that was nearest his heart. was it true that the queen had given up in despair? that she would rather die than submit to his kindly rule? she only sobbed. he went on: "undoubtedly thyreus has not delivered my message properly!" she said that, on the contrary, she understood what a generous master he was and that she expected every consideration from him. "then be brave, queen. do not look on me as an enemy." his voice was gentle, his expression kindly, but at a glance cleopatra had comprehended. he was hard as a rock. he was trying to look human but she saw only the sharply cut nose that suggested a bird of prey, the dry, close-lipped mouth. no sincere words could come from it. she knew the part she must play. it would be a fencing match, and each must be on guard. she made a gesture of resignation. "it is true; when antony died i felt i could not go on living!" "and now?" "oh! now i must think of my children. dear little souls! how can i leave them? at least i must know what their future in rome will be!" her children! cæsarion, ptolemy, antyllas, they were the first prizes that octavius had seized. defrauded of his principal victim, these innocent children would be sacrificed to their mother's insubordination. the executioner went on with his hypocritical smile: "have no fear for them, madame. their fate is in your hands. if you put your faith in me and comply with my requests, no harm shall come to them." she knew just how much this assurance was worth. she knew that the unhappy children would have to suffer; but she feigned confidence. "i have the word of octavius." "and will you in return, beautiful cleopatra, swear that you will not try to kill yourself? that you will not refuse to accompany me to rome?" in this frightful comedy, with a vain knave on one side, and the honour of a queen on the other, who would win? cleopatra gave her word. "you are my sovereign master," she replied, bending her beautiful head. "wherever you choose to take me i will follow you submissively." and to demonstrate that from that time on she was his vassal, she took from an attendant her list of jewels and handed it to octavius. "these are yours. i have only kept some ornaments, the most precious, it is true, in order to offer them myself to livia, to octavia." this time he was really astonished. "do you really mean it?" "yes, i want your sister, who is sharing my grief, to pardon me for all the sorrow that i have brought on her." however skilled he might have been in the art of deception, he was chiefly accustomed to dealing with men, and he did not understand cleopatra's subtleties. entirely confident that all would be well, he was about to leave her, but cleopatra detained him. she had one favour to ask of him. as she was soon to go away from egypt, to tear herself from the cherished city where her husband lay, might she be allowed to go to his tomb for the last time? a docile captive, a generous prince! following the example of antony, who, after the battle of philippi had so magnanimously honoured the bleeding body of brutus, octavius granted the request of his widow. the next day, though hardly able to stand, cleopatra was taken to the tomb. her jailors accompanied her, which pleased her, as she wanted them to look on at the sad demonstration there. it was not enough to have convinced octavius; she wanted it generally known that she had accepted her fate. only in this way could she gain the liberty that she needed for her plans. she knelt down before an audience that would not fail to report her every gesture, every word. with tears and grief, which at least were not feigned, she poured on the tomb-stone oil and wine, the mystic nourishment of the dead. her words came slowly, each cunningly conceived, and put together in a manner to deceive the world. "oh, antony, my beloved! my hands that laid you to rest here were those of a free woman; to-day it is a slave who comes to offer you libations. accept them, since they are the only honours, the last homage that i can ever render you. we, whom nothing could separate in life, are condemned to exchange our countries in death. you, a roman, will rest here, while i, unhappy being that i am, will find my sepulchre in italy, far from the land of my ancestors." the effect of this pathetic farewell was just what cleopatra had foreseen. the most skeptical were convinced of her sincerity. in speaking thus she surely accepted the decreed departure from the land of her fathers. epaphroditus, himself, astonished at the transformation that had taken place in the prisoner, was relieved to know that she had given up the thought of suicide. from that time on supervision was relaxed. the exits and entrances of the palace were unguarded. the queen was allowed to entertain her visitors without witnesses. a heroine who had borne so much suffering was worthy of profound devotion. what came to her exceeded her hopes. the man who would have risked his life, not to save that of the queen, which, alas, was not to be saved, but to spare her humiliation, was a roman officer. young, handsome, of the noble family of cornelius, dolabella had served as staff-officer during octavius's campaign in egypt. happy to have done with war, he was thoroughly enjoying the brilliant pleasures which the conquered city afforded. one morning he was on duty as commander of the guard which protected the queen's apartments. it was at the crisis of her illness. he saw her weeping, suffering, refusing all care. he heard her implore death to come as a divine mercy. men usually prefer women who are happy, but turn instinctively away when they are suffering. some rare natures, however, are drawn toward those who are in sorrow. when dolabella saw the misery of this royal woman, whom the gods had first blessed above all others and then ruthlessly deprived of happiness, he felt a tender compassion for her. with a pity such as a neglected garden inspires he thought, "what is to be done? what help can i give? how can i aid this divine flower broken by the storm?" without having had any encouragement he approached the queen, saying: "use me, madame, as a thing that belongs to you." it was a surprise to this sorrowing woman, whom all the world seemed to have forgotten. for a moment cleopatra hesitated. accustomed as she was to trickery and betrayal, she suspected some trap. he might be another proculeius! but no, honesty was stamped on this man's face. his eyes inspired trust. her bruised heart took courage and suddenly, with the faith of a young girl, she told him of the only one of her desires that had any chance of being granted: to know octavius's intentions in regard to her, and to be duly warned of the day fixed for his return to rome. the young officer was in touch with the imperator. it was easy to find out what his immediate plans were. unconscious of being an accomplice to a fatal act, he agreed to do as she asked. it was a perilous promise which might have cost him his life. but even had he realized this he had been too often under fire to value life save for what it brings. three days later he gave her the information she desired. octavius had decided to go back to italy by way of syria and greece, and had given orders that cleopatra, together with her younger children, be sent to rome. the hour had come at last. cleopatra knew that henceforth there was no changing the fate which awaited her. it was time for the sword, which had been hanging over her for nearly a year, to fall. she regarded it fearlessly. perhaps had she only drunk a few drops of bitterness she would have shrunk from the horror of it. but her cup of sorrow was empty; the game of life was lost. she gave the news to the two cherished friends, who had her full confidence, and instructed them to inform olympus. for fear of arousing suspicions, this manipulator of poisons had been kept in retirement; but his solicitude for cleopatra made him vigilant and everything was prepared secretly. the queen had no anxiety on the subject. she knew that at the appointed hour her means of freedom would be ready. there was nothing to do but wait and arrange things according to the carefully thought-out plan. as a woman to whom elegance was a necessity, cleopatra had determined to make her death, as she had made her life, a thing of beauty. her queenly pride demanded that octavius, agrippa, mæcenas, even proculeius, all these romans who had scoffed at her, should admire, not only the courage which had sustained her during the humiliating farce which they had forced upon her, but the envelope of her rare soul as well. with an ardour which left her quite calm she personally attended to all the little preparatory details of her toilet. as though she were making ready for meeting her lover, she bathed in warm, perfumed water. her face was sweet with spikenard, and antimony gave a touch of mystery to her dark eyes. her lips and cheeks were like burning roses. from the cedar chest came forth the snow-white robe, shining with pearls and gold, which had made her more than royal at the coronation feast. some jewels put the finishing touch to her splendour. what memories that brought back to her! the dazzling processions, the mad joy of the people, antony, beautiful as apollo, in his two-wheeled chariot drawn by the four white chargers; his stepping down and proclaiming her under the shining heavens queen of kings, empress, goddess--and to-day, the winding-sheet! as she fastened the amethyst buckle at her girdle cleopatra's fingers trembled. but a stoic, she drew herself up. there must be no weakness. her task was not yet completed. instead of there being any suggestion of mourning here, all things should sing a chant of deliverance. roses were scattered on the tables, on the carpet. incense burned in the cressets. the shaded lamps gave a soft, rich light. when everything was adjusted to harmonize with the great climax, cleopatra drew a letter, written some days before, from a secret drawer. in it she had recommended her children to the generosity of the conqueror and begged him to allow her to rest by the side of antony. she read it over, wrote the date (august , ), the date that was to be her last day of life, and affixed the royal seal. was it as a jest that she charged epaphroditus with the delivery of this letter? perhaps, for cleopatra had always loved to play with men or perhaps she merely wanted to get him out of the way. however that was, his ugly snout smelt some trickery. to go away from her seemed imprudent. he hesitated; but the message was important and the queen persuaded him, with one of those smiles which no man could resist. the jailor yielded. besides, why should he have any serious suspicions of a woman whose days were passed in futile occupations? who since early morning had been poking in chests, turning over jewels and trinkets? epaphroditus's shallow brain was incapable of comprehending the whims and caprices of a cleopatra! the evening repast was served as usual. the careless slaves came and went. that none of them should have any idea of what was coming, the queen forced herself to eat and to keep up the conversation. there was a sudden stirring behind the curtain. it sounded like a dispute. one of the guards came in. he could not get rid of a man, a peasant apparently, who insisted on speaking with the queen. "what does he want?" "he wishes to give you a basket of figs." "let him come in." cleopatra understood. her heart contracted violently. it required all her strong will to control its spasms. under the peasant's garb she had recognized olympus. pale, but firm, she signalled him to approach. no word passed between them. they exchanged glances which made all clear. it was arranged. the gift had been paid for. she who received it understood what to do with it. the queen was alone with iras and charmian, those two devoted priestesses whose worship meant the immolation of themselves. these three women no longer cared to live and were ready for the sacrifice. no one knows, no one will ever know, what were those deadly rites. the general belief is that an asp was hidden in the figs. olympus had experimented with the venom of this serpent, which killed according to the conditions exacted by the queen; quickly, without pain, leaving no disfiguring mark. the idea of that age-old myth, bound up in religions for centuries, comes back. the woman and the serpent together. their eyes meet, flames go out, they challenge each other. the serpent hesitates, draws back, then, enthralled by a look stronger than his own, darts, and in the willing flesh implants his deadly sting. iras died first. she was the frailest, and as soon as the poison began to circulate in her veins she bent down, rested her head on the knees of her beloved sovereign and held them till her last breath went. cleopatra felt her lids grow heavy. an irresistible langour overwhelmed her. her mind began to wander and in her dream she saw antony coming toward her to the sound of flutes and lyres. how quick and joyous his step was! they were on the sands of the shore. where are they now? it is evening in a fragrant garden. a light breeze caresses them. there is music again, now it is fainter, all grows dim, then black. the eternal rest has come. charmian was still breathing when a clash of arms outside roused her. fierce blows sounded on the door. "open! open!" the voices were commanding. it was a company sent from octavius. he himself would be there in an instant. the first words of the letter brought him by epaphroditus had revealed the truth. the letter was a will. "run! summon the physician!" commanded the imperator. "ten talents of gold to whoever will revive the queen!" but they came too late. the gods keep guard over those who resemble them. they had saved cleopatra. nothing could give her back to the hate of her enemies. the first attendant to enter the room found her on her purple bed, which was upheld by the four sphinxes. all white, in the midst of flowers she seemed asleep. her face had the serenity which comes from a duty fulfilled. with a reverent gesture, charmian, staggering, with half closed eyes, was arranging her diadem. "how fine that is!" railed epaphroditus maliciously, furious that his watchfulness had been in vain. "a superb pose, worthy of the daughter of many kings," the athenian girl found strength to whisper. then she fell near the queen whom even to her last sigh she had adorned, served with a divine worship. for octavius it was a rude shock. he remained dazed, as though in dying cleopatra had robbed his victory of its glory. what would rome say? and italy? the people, that pack of hounds who were devoured with impatience to avenge on the egyptian all the humiliations she had inflicted on their country? he who to-morrow would be cæsar augustus had not forgotten his revenge. his captive had escaped him, but her children should suffer for her sins. neither the prayers that she had addressed to him nor the pleading of these bleating lambs, whose only crime was in being born, could soften his infamous heart. antyllas was his first victim. cæsarion's remarkable resemblance to his father, which seemed to make the divine cæsar live again, should have preserved that innocent youth. on the contrary, it was another reason for getting rid of him. "there is no room for two cæsars in this world," declared octavius, and gave orders that the young boy left in his care be put to death. as to the other children that cleopatra had borne antony, too young to be a serious menace, they were carried in the triumphal procession to take the place of their mother. only one of the requests of the dead woman found grace with the conqueror. he contented himself with her effigy and abandoned the body to the alexandrians, who claimed it. with reverent care, arranged as though for her marriage, they placed, in the same porphyry sepulchre where antony lay, the body of the woman whose passionate love had lost him an empire, but who in exchange had given him immortality. the end