THE DIVINE HISTORY OF JESUS CHRIST |
THE LIFE AND TIMES OF CLEOPATRA, QUEEN OF EGYPTPART
II.
CLEOPATRA
AND ANTONY
CHAPTER XIII.
CLEOPATRA
AND ANTONY IN ALEXANDRIA.
There can be little
doubt that Antony was extremely anxious to form a solid alliance with Cleopatra
at this juncture, for he needed just such an ally for the
schemes which he had in view. His relations with Octavian were
strained, and the insignificant part played by the latter in the
operations which culminated at Philippi had led him to feel some contempt
for the young man’s abilities. The Triumvirate was, at best, a compromise; and
Antony had no expectation that it would for one day outlive the
acquisition either by Octavian or himself of preponderant power. At the
back of his mind he hoped for the fall of Caesar’s nephew; and he saw in
the alliance with Cleopatra the means whereby he could obtain a
numerical advantage over his rival.
After the battle of
Philippi Octavian had returned to Rome, and Antony now received news that the
troops under their joint command were highly dissatisfied with the
rewards which they had received for their labours. There
was considerable friction between those who were loyal to Octavian and
those who thought that Antony would treat them more generously; and the
latter’s agents in Rome, notably his wife Fulvia,
were endeavouring to widen the breach, more probably
of their own accord than with their leader’s direct consent. Antony had no
wish to break with Octavian until he could feel confident of success ;
and, moreover, his attention was directed at this time more keenly to the
question of the conquest of Parthia than to that of the destruction
of Octavian. The great Dictator had stirred his imagination in regard to
the Parthians, and possibly the project of the invasion of India was
already exercising his mind, as it certainly did in later years. His plans
therefore, in broad outline, now seem to have been grouped into three
movements: firstly, the formation of an offensive and defensive alliance
with Cleopatra, in order that her money, men, and ships might be placed at
his disposal; secondly, the invasion of Parthia, so that the glory
of his victories and the loot of the conquered country might raise
his prestige to the highest point; and thirdly, the picking of a quarrel
with Octavian, in order that he might sweep him from the face of the
earth, thereby leaving himself ruler of the world. Then, like
Caesar, he would probably proclaim himself King, would
marry Cleopatra, and would establish a royal dynasty, his successor
being either his stepson, the Dictator’s child, or the future son of his
marriage with the Queen of Egypt should their union be fruitful.
Filled with these
hopes, which corresponded so closely to those of Cleopatra, Antony prepared to
go to Alexandria in the autumn of the year BC 41, intent on sealing the
alliance with the Queen of Egypt. He arranged for a certain Decidius Saxa, one of the
late Dictator’s chosen generals, to be placed in command of the
forces in Syria; and it was this officer’s duty to keep him informed of
the movements of the Parthians, and to prepare for the coming campaign against
them. The King of Parthia, Orodes by name, had
engaged the services of a Roman renegade named Quintus Labienus, a
former colleague of Cassius and Brutus; and this man was now working in
conjunction with Pacorus, the King’s son, in organising the Parthian armies and preparing them for
an offensive movement against the neighbouring Roman
provinces. There seemed thus to be no doubt that war would speedily break
out, and Antony was therefore very anxious to put himself in possession of
the Egyptian military and naval resources as quickly as possible.
He was about to set
sail for Alexandria when news seems to have reached him that the troubles in
Rome were coming to a head, and that his brother Lucius Antonius, and
his wife Fulvia, were preparing to
attack Octavian. He must therefore have hesitated in deciding whether
he should return to Rome or not. He must have been considerably annoyed at
the turn which events had taken, for he knew well enough that he was not
then in a position to wage a successful war against Octavian; and he
was much afraid of being involved in a contest which would probably lead
to his own downfall. If he returned to Italy it was possible that he might
be able to patch up the quarrel, and to effect a reconciliation
which should keep the world at peace until the time when he himself
desired war. But if he failed in his pacific efforts, a conflict would
ensue for which he was not prepared. It seems to me, therefore, that he
thought it more desirable that he should keep clear of the
quarrel, and should show himself to be absorbed in eastern questions.
By going over to Egypt for a few weeks, not only would he detach himself from
the embarrassing tactics of his party in Rome, but he would also
raise forces and money, nominally for his Parthian campaign, which
would be of immense service to him should Octavian press the quarrel to a
conclusive issue. Moreover, there can be little question that to Antony
the thought of meeting his stern wife again and of being obliged to
live once more under her powerful scrutiny was very distasteful; whereas,
on the other hand, he looked forward with youthful enthusiasm to a
repetition of the charming entertainment provided by Cleopatra. Antony
was no great statesman or diplomatist; and jolly overgrown boy that he
was, his effective actions were at all times largely dictated by his pleasurable
desires. The Queen of Egypt had made a most disconcerting appeal to
that spontaneous nature, which, in matters of this kind, required little
encouragement from without; and now the fact that it seemed wise at the
time to keep away from Rome served as full warrant for the manoeuvre which his ambition and his heart jointly
urged upon him.
Early in the winter
of BC 41, therefore, he made his way to Alexandria, and was received by
Cleopatra into the beautiful Lochias Palace as a
most profoundly honoured guest. All the
resources of that sumptuous establishment were concerted for his amusement, and
it was not long before the affairs of the Roman world were
relegated to the back of his genial mind. In the case of Cleopatra,
however, there was no such laxity. The Queen’s ambitions, fired by Caesar,
had been stirred into renewed flame by her success at Tarsus; and she was
determined to make Antony the champion of her cause. From the moment
when she had realised his pliability and
his susceptibility to her overtures, she had made up her mind to join
forces with him in an attempt upon the throne of the Roman Empire; and it was
now her business both to fascinate him by her personal charms and, by the
nature of her entertainments, to demonstrate to him her wealth and
power.
“It would be
trifling without end,” says Plutarch, “to give a particular account of Antony’s
follies at Alexandria.” For several weeks he gave himself up to amusements
of the most frivolous character, and to the enjoyment of a life more
luxurious than any he had ever known. His own family had been simple in
their style of living, and although he had taught himself much in this
regard, and had expended a great deal of money on lavish entertainments,
there were no means of obtaining in Rome a splendour which could compare with the magnificence of these Alexandrian
festivities. His friends, too, many of whom were common actresses and
comedians, had not been brilliant tutors in the arts of entertainment;
nor had they encouraged him to provide them so much with refined
luxury as with good strong drink and jovial company. Now, however, in
Cleopatra’s palace, Antony found himself surrounded on all sides by the
devices and appliances of the most advanced culture of the age;
and an appeal was made to his senses which would have put the efforts
even of the extravagant Lucullus to shame. Alexandria has been called “the
Paris of the ancient world,” and it is not difficult to understand the
glamour which it cast upon the imagination of the lusty Roman, who,
for the first time in his life, found himself surrounded by a group of
cultured men and women highly practised in the
art of living sumptuously. Moreover, he was received by Cleopatra as
prospective lord of all he surveyed, for the Queen seems to have shown him
quite clearly that all these things would be his if he would but cast in
his lot with her.
Antony quickly
adapted his manners to those of the Alexandrians. He set aside his Roman dress
and clothed himself in the square-cut Greek costume, putting upon his
feet the white Attic shoes known as phozcasium.
He seems to have spoken the Greek language well; and he now made
himself diplomatically agreeable to the Grecian nobles who frequented the
court. He constantly visited the meeting-places of learned men, spending
much time in the temples and in the Museum; and thereby he won for
himself an assured position in the brilliant society of the Queen’s
Alexandrian court, which, in spite of its devotion to the pleasant follies
of civilisation, prided itself upon its culture
and learning.
Meanwhile he did
not hesitate to endear himself by every means in his power to Cleopatra. He
knew that she desired him, for dynastic reasons, to become her
legal husband, and that there was no other man in the world, from her
point of view, so suitable for the position of her consort. He knew, also,
that as a young “ widow,” whose first union had been so short-lived,
Cleopatra was eagerly desirous of a satisfactory marriage which
should give her the comfort of a strong companion upon whom to lean
in her many hours of anxiety, and an ardent lover to whom she could turn
in her loneliness. He knew that she was attracted by his herculean strength
and brave appearance; and it must have been apparent to him from the
first that he could without much exertion win her devotion almost as
easily as the great Caesar had done. The Queen was young, passionate, and
exceedingly lonely ; and it did not require any keen perception on
his part to show him how great was her need, both for political and for
personal reasons, of a reliable marriage. He therefore paid court to his
hostess with confidence; and it was not long before she surrendered herself
to him with all the eagerness and whole-hearted interest of her warm,
impulsive nature.
The union was at
once sanctioned by the court and the priesthood, and was converted in Egypt
into as legal a marriage as that with Caesar had been. There can be little
doubt that Cleopatra obtained from him some sort of promise that he would
not desert her; and at this time she must have felt herself able to trust
him as implicitly as she had trusted the great Dictator. Caesar had
not played her false; he had taken her to Rome and had made no secret
of his intention to raise her to the throne by his side. In like manner
she believed that Antony, virtually Caesar’s successor, would create an
empire over which they should jointly rule; and she must
have rejoiced in her successful capture of his heart, whereby she had
obtained both a good-natured, handsome lover and a bold political
champion.
In the union
between these two powerful personages the historian may thus see both a
diplomatic and a romantic amalgamation. Neither Cleopatra nor
Antony seem to me yet to have been very deeply in love, but I fancy
each was stirred by the attractions of the other, and each believed for
the moment that the gods had provided the mate so long awaited. Cleopatra
with her dainty beauty, and Antony with his magnificent
physique, must have appeared to be admirably matched by Nature; while
their royal and famous destinies could not, in the eyes of the material
world, have been more closely allied.
We have seen how
Antony allowed his more refined instincts full play in Alexandria, and how, in
order to win the Queen’s admiration, he showed himself devoted to the
society of learned men. In like manner Cleopatra gave full vent to the
more frivolous side of her nature, in order to render herself attractive
to her Roman comrade, whose boyish love of tomfoolery was so
pronounced. Sometimes in the darkness of the night, as we
have already seen, she would dress herself in the clothes of a peasant
woman, and disguising Antony in the garments of a slave, she would lead
him through the streets of the city in search of adventure. They would
knock ominously at the doors or windows of unknown houses, and disappear
like ghosts when they were opened. Occasionally, of course, they were
caught by the doorkeepers or servants, and, as Plutarch says, “were very
scurvily answered and sometimes even beaten severely, though most
people guessed who they were.”
Cleopatra provided
all manner of amusements for her companion. She would ride and hunt with him in
the desert beyond the city walls, boat and fish with him on the sea
or the Mareotic Lake, romp with him through the
halls of the Palace, watch him wrestle, fence, and exercise himself in
arms, play dice with him, drink with him, and fascinate him by the arts of
love. The following story presents a characteristic picture of the jovial
life led by them in Alexandria during this memorable winter.. Antony had been
fishing from one of the vessels in the harbour;
but, failing to make any catches, he employed a diver to descend into the
water and to attach newly-caught fishes to his hook, which he
then landed amidst the applause of Cleopatra and her friends. The
Queen, however, soon guessed what was happening, and at once invited a
number of persons to come on the next day to witness Antony’s dexterity.
She then procured some preserved fish which had come from the Black Sea,
and instructed a slave to dive under the vessel and to attach one to the
hook as soon as it should strike the water. This having been done,
Antony drew to the surface the salad fish, the appearance of which
was greeted with hearty laughter; whereupon Cleopatra, turning to the
discomfited angler, tactfully said, “ Leave the fishing-rod, general, to
us poor sovereigns of Pharos and Canopus: your game is cities, provinces,
and kingdoms.”
During this winter
Antony and the Queen together founded a kind of society or club which they
named the Amimetobioi, or Inimitable Livers, the
members of which entertained one another in turn each day in the most
extravagant manner. Antony, it would seem probable, was the president of this
society; and two inscriptions have been found in which he is named “
The Inimitable,” perhaps not without reference to this office. A
story told by a certain Philotas, a medical student at that time residing
in Alexandria, will best illustrate the prodigality of the feasts provided
by the members of this club. Philotas was one day visiting the
kitchens of Cleopatra’s palace, and was surprised to see no less than
eight wild boars roasting whole. “You evidently have a great number of
guests to-day,” he said to the cook; to which the latter replied, “No,
there are not above twelve to dine, but the meat has to be served up
just roasted to a turn: and maybe Antony will wish to dine now, maybe not
for an hour; yet if anything is even one minute ill-timed it will be spoilt,
so that not one but many meals must be in readiness, as it is
impossible to guess at his dining-hour.”
As an example of
the food served at these Alexandrian banquets, I may be permitted to give a
list of the dishes provided some years previously at a dinner given
in Rome by Mucius Lentulus Niger, at which Julius Caesar had been one of the guests; but it is to be
remembered that Cleopatra’s feasts are thought to have been far more prodigious
than any known in Rome. The menu is as follows: Sea-hedgehogs;
oysters; mussels; sphondyli; fieldfares with
asparagus; fattened fowls; oyster and mussel pasties; black and white
sea-acorns; sphondyli again; glycimarides;
sea-nettles; becaficoes; roe-ribs; boar’s ribs;
fowls dressed with flour; becaficoes again; purple
shell-fish of two kinds; sow’s udder; boar’s head; fish pasties; ducks;
boiled teals; hares; roasted fowls; starch-pastry; and Pontic pastry.
Varro, in one of his satires, mentions some of the most noted foreign
delicacies which were to be found upon the tables of the rich. These
include peacocks from Samos; grouse from Phrygia; cranes from Melos; kids
from Ambracia; tunny-fish from Chalcedon; muraenas from the Straits of Gades;
ass-fish from Pessinus; oysters and scallops
from Tarentum; sturgeons from Rhodes; scarus-fish
from Cilicia; nuts from Thasos; and acorns from Spain. The vegetables then
known included most of those now eaten, with the notable exception, of
course, of potatoes. The main meal of the day, the coena, was often prolonged into a drinking party,
known as commissatio, at which an Arbiter bibendi, or Master of Revels, was appointed by the
throwing of dice, whose duty it was to mix the wine in a large bowl. The
diners lay upon couches usually arranged round three sides of
the table, and they ate their food with their fingers. Chaplets of flowers
were placed upon their heads, cinnamon was sprinkled upon the hair, and sweet
perfumes were thrown upon their bodies, and sometimes even mixed with
the wines. During the meals the guests were entertained by the performances of
dancing-girls, musicians, actors, acrobats, clowns, dwarfs, or even gladiators;
and afterwards dice-throwing and other games of chance were indulged
in. The decoration of the rooms and the splendour of the furniture and plate were always very carefully considered,
Cleopatra’s banquets being specially noteworthy
for the magnificence of the table services. These dishes and
drinking-vessels, which the Queen was wont modestly to describe as her Kerama, or “earthenware,” were usually made of gold and
silver encrusted with precious stones; and so famous were they for
their beauty of workmanship that three centuries later they formed
still a standard of perfection, Queen Zenobia of Palmyra being related to
have collected them eagerly for her own use.
Thus, with
feasting, merry-making, and amusements of all kinds, the winter slipped by. To
a large extent Plutarch is justified in stating that in Alexandria “Antony
squandered that most costly of all valuables time”; but the months were not
altogether wasted. He and Cleopatra had cemented their alliance by living
together in the most intimate relations; and both now thought it
probable that when the time came for the attempted overthrow of Octavian
they would fight their battle side by side. By becoming Cleopatra’s lover,
and by appealing to the purely instinctive side of her nature, Antony had
obtained from her the whole-hearted promise of Egypt’s support in all his
undertakings; and these happy winter months in Alexandria could not have
seemed to him to be wasted when each day the powerful young Queen come to
be more completely at his beck and call. The course of Cleopatra’s love
for Antony seems to have followed almost precisely the same lines as
had her love for Julius Caesar. Inspired at first by a
political motive, she had come to feel a genuine and romantic affection
for her Roman consort; and the intimacies which ensued, though largely due
to the weaknesses of the flesh, seemed to find full justification in the
fact that her dynastic ambitions were furthered by this
means. Cleopatra thought of Antony as her husband, and she wished to
be regarded as his wife. The fact that no public marriage had taken place
was of little consequence; for she, as goddess and Queen, must have
felt herself exempt from the common law, and at perfect liberty to
contract whatever union seemed desirable to her for the good of her
country and dynasty, and for the satisfaction of her own womanly
instincts. Early in the year BC 40 she and Antony became aware
that their union was to be fruitful; and this fact must have made
Cleopatra more than ever anxious to keep Antony in Alexandria with her,
and to bind him to her by causing him to be recognised as her consort. He was not willing, however, to assume the rank and status
of King of Egypt; for such a move would inevitably precipitate the quarrel
with Octavian, and he would then be obliged to stake all on an immediate
war with the faction which would assuredly come to be recognised as
the legitimate Roman party. This unwillingness on his part to bind himself
to her must have caused her some misgiving; and, as the winter drew to a
close, I think that the Queen must have felt somewhat apprehensive in
regard to Antony’s sincerity.
Setting aside all
sentimental factors in the situation, and leaving out of consideration for the
moment all physical causes of the alliance, it will be seen
that Antony’s position was now more satisfactory than was that of the
often sorely perplexed Queen. By spending the winter at Alexandria the
Roman Triumvir had kept himself aloof from the political troubles in Italy
at a time when his presence at home might have complicated matters to
his own disadvantage; he had obtained the full support of Egyptian wealth
and Egyptian arms should he require them; and he had prepared the
way for a definite marriage with Cleopatra at the moment when he
should desire her partnership in the foundation of a great monarchy such as
that for which Julius Caesar had striven. He had not yet irrevocably
compromised himself, and he was free to return to his Roman order of life
with superficially clean hands. Nobody in Rome would think the less of him
for having combined a certain amount of pleasure with the
obvious business which had called him to Egypt; and his friends would
certainly be as easily persuaded to accept the political excuses which he
would advance for his lengthy residence in Alexandria as the Caesarian
party had been to admit those put forward by the great Dictator
under very similar circumstances. Like Julius Caesar and like Pompey,
Antony was certainly justified in making himself the patron of the wealthy
Egyptian court; and all Roman statesmen were aware how desirable it was
at this juncture for a party leader to cement an alliance with the
powerful Queen of that country.
On the part of
Cleopatra, however, the circumstances were far less happy. She had staked all
on the alliance with Antony—her personal honour and prestige as well as her dynasty’s future; and in return for her great
gifts she must have been beginning to feel that she had received nothing save
vague promises and unsatisfactory assurances. Without Antony’s help not
only would she lose all hope of an Egypto-Roman throne for
herself and her son Caesarion, but she would inevitably fail to keep
Egypt from absorption into the Roman dominions. There were only two mighty
leaders at that time in the Roman world—Octavian and Antony; and Octavian
was her relentless enemy, for the reason that her son Caesarion was
his rival in the claim on the Dictator’s worldly and political estate.
Failing the support of Antony there were no means of retaining her
country’s liberty, except perhaps by the desperate eventuality of some
sort of alliance with Parthia. It must have occurred to her that
Egypt, with its growing trade with southern India, might join forces with
Parthia, whose influence in northern India must have been great, and might
thus effect an amalgamation of nations hostile to Rome, which in a
vast semicircle should include Egypt, Ethiopia, Arabia, Persia, India,
Scythia, Parthia, Armenia, Syria, and perhaps Asia Minor. Such a
combination might be expected to sweep Rome from the face of the
earth; but the difficulties in the way of the huge union were almost
insuperable, and the alliance with Antony was infinitely more tangible.
Yet, towards the end of the winter, she must constantly have asked herself
whether she could trust Antony, to whom she had given so much. She
loved him, she had given herself to him; but she must have known him to be
unreliable, inconsequent, and, in certain aspects, merely an overgrown
boy. The stakes for which she was fighting were so
absolutely essential to herself and to her country: the champion whose
services she had enlisted was so light-hearted, so reluctant to pledge himself.
And now that she was about to bear him a son, and thus to bring before
his wayward notice the grave responsibilities which she felt he had
so flippantly undertaken, would he stand by her as Caesar had done, or would
he desert her?
Her feelings may be
imagined, therefore, when in February BC 40, Antony told her that he had
received disconcerting news from Rome and from Syria, and that he
must leave her at once. The news from Rome does not appear to have been
very definite, but it gave him to understand that his wife and his brother
had come to actual blows with Octavian, and, being worsted, had fled
from Italy. From Syria, however, came a very urgent despatch,
in regard to which there could be no doubts. Some of the Syrian princes
whom he had deposed in the previous autumn, together with Antigonus, whose
claims to the throne of Palestine he had rejected, had made an alliance
with the Parthians and were marching down from the north - east
against Decimus Saxa, the governor of Syria. The
Roman forces in that country were few in number, consisting for the
most part of the remnants of the army of Brutus and Cassius; and they
could hardly be expected to put up a good fight against the invaders.
Antony’s own trusted legions were now stationed in Italy, Gaul,
and Macedonia; and there were many grave reasons for their retention
in their present quarters. The situation, therefore, was very serious, and
Antony was obliged to bring his pleasant visit to Alexandria to an abrupt
end. Plutarch describes him as “rousing himself with difficulty from
sleep, and shaking off the fumes of wine” in preparation for his
departure; but I do not think that his winter had been so debauched as
these words suggest. He had combined business and pleasure, as the saying
is, and at times had lost sight of the one in his eager prosecution of the
other; but, looking at the matter purely from a hygienic point of view, it
seems probable that the hunting, riding, and military exercises of which
Plutarch speaks, had kept him in a fairly healthy condition in spite of
the stupendous character of the meals set before him.
The parting of
Antony and Cleopatra early in March must have contained in it an element of
real tragedy. He could not tell what difficulties were in store for
him, and at the moment he had not asked the Queen for any military
help. He must have bade her lie low until he was able to tell her in what
manner she could best help their cause; and thereby he consigned her to a
period of deep anxiety and sustained worry. In loneliness she would
have to face her coming confinement, and, like a deserted courtesan, would
have to nurse a fatherless child. She would have to hold her throne
without the comfort of a husband’s advice; and in all things
she would once more be obliged to live the dreary life of a solitary
unmated Queen. It was a miserable prospect, but, as will be seen in the
following chapter, the actual event proved to be far more distressing than
she had expected; for, as Antony sailed out of the harbour of Alexandria, and was shut out from sight behind the mighty tower of
Pharos, Cleopatra did not know that she would not see his face again for
four long years.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE
ALLIANCE RENEWED BETWEEN CLEOPATRA AND ANTONY.
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