THE DIVINE HISTORY OF JESUS CHRIST |
THE LIFE AND TIMES OF CLEOPATRA, QUEEN OF EGYPTPART
II.
CLEOPATRA
AND ANTONY
CHAPTER XII.
THE
ALLIANCE BETWEEN CLEOPATRA AND ANTONY.
Determined to win
the fickle Antony back to her cause and that of her son, Cleopatra set sail
from Alexandria, and, passing between Cyprus and the coast of
Syria, at length one morning entered the mouth of the Cydnus in
Cilicia, and made her way up to the city of Tarsus which was situated on
the banks of the river in the shadow of the wooded slopes of the Taurus
mountains. The city was famous both for its maritime commerce and for
its school of oratory. The ships of Tarshish (i.e., Tarsus) had been
renowned since ancient days, and upon these vessels the rhetoricians
travelled far and wide, carrying the methods of their alma mater
throughout the known world. Julius Caesar and Cato may be named as two of
the pupils of this school who have played their parts in the foregoing
pages ;1 and now Antony, the foremost Roman of this period, was honouring Tarsus itself with his presence. The city
stood some miles back from the sea, and it was late afternoon
before its buildings and busy docks were observed by the Egyptians,
sheltering against the slopes of the mountains. As the fleet sailed up the Cydnus, the people of the neighbourhood swarmed down to the water’s edge to watch its stately progress; and the
excitement was intense when it was seen that the Queen’s vessel
was fitted and decked out in the most extravagant manner. Near the
city the river widens into a quiet lake, and here in the roads, where lay
the world-renowned merchant vessels, Cleopatra’s ships probably came to
anchor, while the quays and embankments were crowded with the
townsfolk who had gathered to witness the Queen’s arrival.
On hearing of her
approach Antony had seated himself upon the public tribunal in the
market-place, expecting that she would land at once and come to pay her
respects to him in official manner. But Cleopatra had no intention of
playing a part which might in any way be interpreted as that of a vassal
or suppliant; and she therefore seems to have remained on board her ship
at a distance from the shore, as though in no haste to meet Antony.
Meanwhile reports
began to spread of the magnificence of the Queen’s vessels, and it was said
that preparations were being made on board for the reception of the
Triumvir. The crowds surrounding the tribunal thereupon hurried from the
market-place to join those upon the quays, and soon Antony was left alone
with his retinue. There he sat waiting for some time, till, losing
patience, he sent a message to the Queen inviting her to dine
with him. To this she replied by asking him to bring the Roman and
local magnates to dine with her instead; and Antony, not wishing to stand
upon ceremony with his old friend, at once accepted the invitation. At
dusk, therefore, Cleopatra appears to have ordered her vessel to be
brought across the lake to the city, and to be moored at the crowded quay,
where already Antony was waiting to come on board; and the burly Roman,
always a lover of theatrical display, must then have been entertained by a
spectacle more stirring than any he had known before.
Across the water,
in which the last light of the sunset was reflected, the royal galley was rowed
by banks of silver-mounted oars, the great purple sails hanging
idly in the still air of evening. The vessel was steered by two
oar-like rudders, controlled by helmsmen who stood in the stern of the
ship under a shelter constructed in the form of an enormous elephant’s
head of shining gold, the trunk raised aloft. Around the helmsmen a number
of beautiful slave-women were grouped in the guise of seanymphs and graces; and near them a company of musicians played a melody upon
their flutes, pipes, and harps, for which the slow-moving oars seemed to
beat the time. Cleopatra herself, decked in the loose, shimmering robes of
the goddess Venus, lay under an awning bespangled with gold, while boys
dressed as Cupids stood on either side of her couch, fanning her with the coloured ostrich plumes of the Egyptian court. Before
the royal canopy brazen censers stood upon delicate
pedestals, sending forth fragrant clouds of exquisitely
prepared Egyptian incense, the marvellous odour of which was wafted to the shore ere yet the
vessel had come to its moorings.
At last, as the
light of day began to fade, the royal galley was moored to the crowded quay,
and Antony stepped on board, followed by the chief officers of his staff
and by the local celebrities of Tarsus. His meeting with the Queen appears
to have been of the most cordial nature, for the manner of her approach
must have made it impossible for him at that moment to censure her
conduct. Moreover, the splendid allurements of the scene in which they
met, the enchantment of the twilight, the enticement of her beauty, the
delicacy of the music blending with the ripple of the water, the
intoxication of the incense and the priceless perfumes, must
have stirred his imagination and driven from his mind all thought of
reproach. Nor could he have found much opportunity for serious
conversation with her, for presently the company was led down to the
banqueting-saloon where a dinner of the utmost magnificence was served.
Twelve triple couches, covered with embroideries and furnished with
cushions, were set around the room, before each of which stood a table
whereon rested golden dishes inlaid with precious stones, and drinking
goblets of exquisite workmanship. The walls of the saloon were hung
with embroideries worked in purple and gold, and the floor was strewn with
flowers. Antony could not refrain from exclaiming at the splendour of the entertainment, whereupon Cleopatra
declared that it was not worthy of comment; and, there and then, she made
him a present of everything used at the banquet—dishes, drinking-vessels,
couches, embroideries, and all else in the saloon. Returning once more to
the deck, the elated guests, now made more impressionable by the effects
of Egyptian wine, were amazed to find themselves standing beneath a marvellous kaleidoscope of lanterns, hung in squares
and circles from a forest of branches interlaced above their heads, and in
these almost magical surroundings they enjoyed the enlivening company of the
fascinating young Queen until the wine-jars were emptied and the lamps had
burnt low.
From the shore the
figures of the revellers, moving to and fro amidst this galaxy of lights to the happy strains
of the music, must have appeared to be actors in some divine masque; and
it was freely stated, as though it had been fact, that Venus had come down
to earth to feast with Dionysos (Antony) for the
common good of Asia. Cleopatra, as we have already seen, had been
identified with Venus during the time when she lived in Rome; and in Egypt
she was always deified. And thus the character in which she presented
herself at Tarsus was not assumed, as is generally supposed, simply
for the purpose of creating a charming picture, but it was her wish
actually to be received as a goddess, that Antony might behold in her the
divine Queen of Egypt whom the great Caesar himself had accepted and honoured as an incarnation of Venus. It must be remembered
that at this period men were very prone to identify prominent persons with
popular divinities. Julia, the daughter of Octavian, was in like manner
identified with Venus Genetrix by the inhabitants of certain
cities. We have seen how Caesar seems to have been named Lupercus, and how Antony was called Dionysos (Bacchus);
and it will be remembered how, at Lystra, Paul and Barnabas were saluted
as Hermes and Zeus. In the many known cases, such as these, the
people actually credited the identification; and though a
little thought probably checked a continuance of such a belief, at
the time there seemed to be no cause for doubt that these divinities had made
themselves manifest on earth. The crowds who stood on the banks of the Cydnus that night must therefore have really believed
themselves to be peeping at an entertainment provided by a manifestation of a
popular goddess for the amusement of an incarnation of a favourite god.
It would appear
that Antony invited Cleopatra to sup with him on the following evening, but the
Queen seems to have urged him and his suite again to feast with
her. This second banquet was so far more splendid than the first
that, according to Plutarch, the entertainment already described seemed by
comparison to be contemptible. When the guests departed, not only did she
give to each one the couch upon which he had lain, and the goblets
which had been set before him, but she also presented the chief guests
with litters, and with slaves to carry them, and Ethiopian boys to bear
torches in front of them; while for the lesser guests she
provided horses adorned with golden trappings, which they were bidden
to keep as mementos of the banquet.
On the next night
Cleopatra at last deigned to dine with Antony, who had exhausted the resources
of Tarsus in his desire to provide a feast which should equal
in magnificence those given by the Queen; but in this he failed, and
he was the first to make a jest of his unsuccess and of the poverty of his
wits. The Queen’s entertainments had been marked by that brilliancy of
conversation and atmosphere of refinement which in past years had so
appealed to the intelligence of the great Dictator; but Antony’s banquet,
on the contrary, was notable for the coarseness of the wit and for
what Plutarch describes as a sort of rustic awkwardness. Cleopatra,
however, was equal to the occasion, and speedily adjusted her conduct to
suit that of her burly host. “ Perceiving that his raillery was broad
and gross, and that it savoured more of the
soldier than of the courtier, she rejoined in the same taste, and fell
at once into that manner, without any sort of reluctance or reserve.” 1 Thus she soon succeeded in captivating this powerful Roman,
and in making him her most devoted friend and ally. There was something
irresistible in the excitement of her presence: for the daintiness
of her person, the vivacity of her character, and the enchantment of her
voice, were, so to speak, enhanced by the audacity of her treatment of the
broad subjects introduced in conversation. Antony had sent for her to
censure her for a supposed negligence of his interests ; but speedily he was
led to realise that he himself, and not the
Queen, had deviated from the course upon which they had agreed in Rome. It
was he who, by his association with Octavian, had appeared to
desert what Cleopatra believed to be the genuine Caesarian cause; whereas,
on the other hand, the Queen was able to show that she had refrained from
sending aid to the Triumvirate simply because she could not decide in
what manner the welfare of her son, the little Caesar, was to be promoted
by such an action. Under the spell of her attraction Antony, who in the
Dictator’s lifetime had never been permitted to receive in his heart
the full force of her charming attack, now fell an easy victim to her
strategy, and declared himself ready to carry out her wishes in all things.
On the fourth night
of her visit to Tarsus, Cleopatra entertained the Roman officers at another
banquet; and on this occasion she caused the floor of the saloon
to be strewn with roses to the depth of nearly two feet, the flowers
being held in a solid formation by nets which were tightly spread over
them and fastened to the surrounding walls, the guests thus walking to their
couches upon a perfumed mattress of blooms, the cost of which, for the one
room, was some £250.
In this prodigious
manner the next few days were spent. The Queen made every possible effort to
display to Antony her wealth and power, in order that she might obtain his
consent to some form of alliance between them which should be directed
against Octavian. Her one desire now was to effect a break between
these two leaders, to set them at one another’s throats, and then, by
lending Antony her support, to secure the overthrow of Octavian, Caesar’s
nephew, and the triumph of Caesarion, Caesar’s son. For this
purpose it was absolutely necessary to reveal the extent of
her wealth, and to exhibit the limitless stream of her resources. She
therefore seems to have shown a mild disdain for the Roman general’s
efforts to entertain her, and at his banquets she seems to have
conveyed to him the disquieting impression that she was smiling at
his attempted magnificence, and was even puzzled by his inability to give
to his feasts that fairy aspect which characterised her own.
Her attitude caused
Antony some uneasiness, and at length it seems that he asked the Queen directly
what more could be done to add to the splendour of his table. During the course of the conversation which ensued
he appears to have told her how much an entertainment of the kind
cost him; whereupon she replied that she herself could with ease expend
the equivalent of a hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling upon a
single meal. Antony promptly denied it, declaring that such a thing
was impossible; and the Queen thereupon offered him a wager that she would
do so on the next day. This was accepted, and a certain Plancus was invited to
decide it. Antony does not appear to have recollected that in time
past Clodius, the son of the comedian 2Esop,
was wont to mingle melted pearls with his food, that the cost of his
meals might be interestingly enormous; for he would then have realised that Cleopatra intended to employ some such
device to win her wager, and he would perhaps have restrained her.
To the next day’s
banquet the Roman looked forward with some excitement; and he must have been at
once elated and disappointed when he found the display to be not much
above the ordinary. At the end of the meal he calculated with Plancus the
expenses of the various dishes, and estimated the value of the
golden plates and goblets. He then turned to the Queen, telling her
that the total amount did not nearly reach the figure named in the wager.
“Wait,” said Cleopatra. “This is only a beginning. I shall now try whether I cannot spend the stipulated sum upon myself.”
A signal was given
to the attendant slaves, who brought a table to her, upon which a single cup
containing a little vinegar was set. She was wearing in her ears at the
time two enormous pearls, the value of each of which was more than half
the amount named in the wager; and one of these she rapidly
detached, throwing it into the vinegar, wherein it soon disintegrated. The
vinegar and some seventy-five thousand pounds having then trickled down
her royal throat, she prepared to destroy the second pearl in like
manner; but Plancus intervened, and declared the wager won, while
Antony, no doubt, pondered not without gloom upon the ways of women.
It has generally
been thought that the Queen’s extravagance was to be attributed to her vain
desire to impress Antony with the fact of her personal wealth. But, as we
have seen, there was certainly a strong political reason for her actions;
and there is no need to supposes that she was actuated by vanity.
Indeed, the display of her wealth does not appear to have been on any
occasion as ostentatious as one might gather from the Greek authors, whose
writings suggest that they attributed to her a boastful profligacy in
financial matters which could only be described as bad form. It would
seem rather that the instances of her prodigality recorded here were all characterised in appearance by a subtle show of
unaffected simplicity and ingenuousness, a sort of breath-taking audacity,
while in quality they were largely political and speculative.
It is very
important for the reader to understand the attitude of Cleopatra at this time,
and to divest his mind of the views usually accepted in regard to the
Queen’s alliance with Antony; and therefore I must repeat that it was
Cleopatra’s desire at Tarsus to arouse the interest of Antony in the
possibilities of Egypt as the basis of an attempt upon Rome. She wished to
lead him, as I have said, to put faith in the limitless wealth
that might flow down the Nile to fill the coffers which should be
his, were he to lead an army to claim the throne for herself as Caesar’s
wife, and for her son as Caesar’s flesh and blood. Here was the man who could
conquer for her the empire which she had lost by the premature death of
the great Dictator. It was necessary to make him understand the advantages
of partnership with her, and hence it became needful for her to display to
him the untold wealth that she could command. There was no particular
vanity in her actions, nor real wastefulness: she was playing a
great game, and the stakes were high. A few golden goblets, a melted
pearl or two, were not an excessive price to pay for the partisanship of
Antony. Her son Caesarion was too young to fight his own battles, and she
herself could not lead an army. Antony’s championship therefore had to be
obtained, and there was no way of enlisting his sympathies so sure as that of
revealing to him the boundless riches which she could bring to his
aid. Let him have practical demonstration of the wealth of hidden
Africa and mysterious Asia at her command, and he would surely not shun an
enterprise which should make Caesar’s friend, Caesar’s wife, and Caesar’s
son the three sovereigns of the world. She would show him the gold of
Ethiopia and of Nubia ; she would turn his attention to the great
trade-routes to India; and she would remind him of the advantageous
possibilities which the great Dictator had seen in an alliance with her.
In this manner she would again win his support, as she believed t she
had already done in Rome; and thus through him the ambitious schemes of
Julius Caesar might at last be put into execution.
There were, however,
one or two outstanding matters which required immediate attention. The
Princess Arsinoe, who had walked the streets of Rome in
Caesar’s Triumph and had been released after that event, was now
residing either at Miletus or Ephesus,1 where she had received
sanctuary amongst the priests and priestesses attached to the temple of
Artemis. The High Priest treated her kindly, and even honoured her as a queen, a fact which suggests that he had definitely
placed himself upon her side in her feud with Cleopatra. She seems to
have been a daring and ambitious woman, who, throughout her short life,
struggled vainly to obtain the throne of Egypt for herself; and now it
would appear that she was once more scheming to oust her sister, just
as she had schemed in the Alexandrian Palace in the days when Ganymedes was her chamberlain.
It will be
remembered that the Dictator had given the throne of Cyprus to Arsinoe and her
brother, but it does not seem that this gift had ever been
ratified, though no doubt the Princess attempted to style
herself Queen of that island. It may be that she had come to some
terms with Cassius and Brutus by offering them aid in their war with
Antony if they would assist her in her endeavours to obtain the Egyptian throne; and it is possible that the Egyptian
Viceroy of Cyprus, Serapion, was involved in
this arrangement when he handed over his fleet to Cassius, as has been
recorded in the last chapter. At all events, Cleopatra was now able
to obtain Antony’s consent to the execution both of Arsinoe and of Serapion. A number of men were despatched,
therefore, with orders to put her to death, and these entering the temple
while Arsinoe was serving in the sanctuary, killed her at the steps of the
altar. The High Priest was indicted apparently on the charge of
conspiracy, and it was only with great difficulty that the priesthood
managed to obtain his pardon. Serapion, however,
could not claim indulgence on account of his calling, and he was speedily
arrested and slain.
Having thus rid
herself of one serious menace to her throne, Cleopatra persuaded Antony to
assist her to remove from her mind another cause for deep anxiety. It will
be remembered that when Caesar defeated the Egyptian army in the south of
the Delta in March BC 47, the young King Ptolemy XIV was drowned in
the rout, his body being said to have been recognised by
his golden corselet. Now, however, a man who claimed to be none other than
this unfortunate monarch was trying to obtain a following, and possibly
had put himself in correspondence with his supposed sister Arsinoe.
The pretender was residing at this time in Phoenicia, a fact which
suggests that he had also been in communication with Serapion,
who at the time of his arrest was likewise travelling in that country.
Antony therefore consented to the arrest and execution of
this pseudo-monarch, and in a few weeks’ time he was quietly despatched.
Historians are
inclined to see in the deaths of these three conspirators an instance of
Cleopatra’s cruelty and vindictiveness; and one finds them described as
victims of her insatiable ambition, the killing of Arsinoe being
named as the darkest stain upon the Queen’s black reputation. I
cannot see, however, in what manner a menace to her throne of this kind
could have been removed, save by the ejection of the makers of the trouble
from the earthly sphere of their activities. The death of Arsinoe,
like that of Thomas a Beckett, is rendered ugly by the fact that it
took place at the steps of a sacred altar; but, remembering the period in
which these events occurred, the executions are not to be censured too
severely, for what goodly king or queen of former days has not thus removed
by death all pretenders to the throne ?
Cleopatra’s visit
to Tarsus does not seem to have been prolonged beyond a few weeks, but when at
length she returned to Alexandria, she must have felt that her
short residence with Antony had raised her prestige once more to the
loftiest heights. Not only had she used his dictatorial power to sweep her two
rivals and their presumed accomplice from the face of the earth, not only
had she struck the terror of her power into the heart of the powerful
High Priest of Artemis who, in the distant Aegean, had merely harboured a pretender to Egypt’s throne, but she had
actually won the full support of Antony once more, and had extracted from
him a promise to pay her a visit at Alexandria in order that he might
see with his own eyes the wealth which Egypt could offer. For the first
time, therefore, since the ''death of Caesar, her prospects seemed once
more to be brilliant; and it must have been with a light heart
that she sailed across the Mediterranean once more towards her own
splendid city.
CHAPTER XIII.
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