                                      75 AD
                                     ANTONY
                                  83?-30 B.C.
                                  by Plutarch
                           translated by John Dryden
ANTONY

  THE grandfather of Antony was the famous pleader, whom Marius put to
death for having taken part with Sylla. His father was Antony,
surnamed of Crete, not very famous or distinguished in public life,
but a worthy good man, and particularly remarkable for his liberality,
as may appear from a single example. He was not very rich, and was for
that reason checked in the exercise of his good nature by his wife.
A friend that stood in need of money came to borrow of him. Money he
had none, but he bade a servant bring him water in a silver basin,
with which, when it was brought, he wetted his face, as if he meant to
shave, and, sending away the servant upon another errand, gave his,
friend the basin, desiring him to turn it to his purpose. And when
there was, afterwards, a great inquiry for it in the house, and his
wife was in a very ill-humour, and was going to put the servants one
by one to the search, he acknowledged what he had done, and begged her
pardon.
  His wife was Julia, of the family of the Caesars, who, for her
discretion and fair was not inferior to any of her time. Under her,
Antony received his education, she being, after the death of his
father, remarried to Cornelius Lentulus, who was put to death by
Cicero for having been of Catiline's conspiracy. This, probably, was
the first ground and occasion of that mortal grudge that Antony bore
Cicero. He says, even, that the body of Lentulus was denied burial,
till, by application made to Cicero's wife, it was granted to Julia.
But this seems to be a manifest error, for none of those that suffered
in the consulate of Cicero had the right of burial denied them. Antony
grew up a very beautiful youth, but by the worst of misfortunes, he
fell into the acquaintance and friendship of Curio, a man abandoned to
his pleasures, who, to make Antony's dependence upon him a matter of
greater necessity, plunged him into a life of drinking and
dissipation, and led him through a course of such extravagance that he
ran, at that early age, into debt to the amount of two hundred and
fifty talents. For this sum Curio became his surety; on hearing which,
the elder Curio, his father, drove Antony out of his house. After
this, for some short time he took part with Clodius, the most insolent
and outrageous demagogue of the time, in his course of violence and
disorder; but getting weary before long, of his madness, and
apprehensive of the powerful party forming against him, he left
Italy and travelled into Greece, where he spent his time in military
exercises and in the study of eloquence. He took most to what was
called the Asiatic taste in speaking, which was then at its height,
and was, in many ways, suitable to his ostentatious, vaunting
temper, full of empty flourishes and unsteady efforts for glory.
  After some stay in Greece, he was invited by Gabinius, who had
been consul, to make a campaign with him in Syria, which at first he
refused, not being willing to serve in a private character, but
receiving a commission to command the horse, he went along with him.
His first-service was against Aristobulus, who had prevailed with
the Jews to rebel. Here he was himself the first man to scale the
largest of the works, and beat Aristobulus out of all of them; after
which he routed in a pitched battle, an army many times over the
number of his, killed almost all of them and took Aristobulus and
his son prisoners. This war ended, Gabinius was solicited by Ptolemy
to restore him to his kingdom of Egypt, and a promise made of ten
thousand talents reward. Most of the officers were against this
enterprise, and Gabinius himself did not much like it, though sorely
tempted by the ten thousand talents. But Antony, desirous of brave
actions and willing to please Ptolemy, joined in persuading Gabinius
to go. And whereas all were of opinion that the most dangerous thing
before them was the march to Pelusium, in which they would have to
pass over a deep sand, where no fresh water was to be hoped for, along
the Acregma and the Serbonian marsh (which the Egyptians call Typhon's
breathing-hole, and which is, in probability, water left behind by, or
making its way through from, the Red Sea, which is here divided from
the Mediterranean by a narrow isthmus), Antony, being ordered
thither with the horse, not only made himself master of the passes,
but won Pelusium itself, a great city, took the garrison prisoners,
and by this means rendered the march secure to the army, and the way
to victory not difficult for the general to pursue. The enemy also
reaped some benefit of his eagerness for honour. For when Ptolemy,
after he had entered Pelusium, in his rage and spite against the
Egyptians, designed to put them to the sword, Antony withstood him,
and hindered the execution. In all the great and frequent skirmishes
and battles he gave continual proofs of his personal valour and
military conduct; and once in particular, by wheeling about and
attacking the rear of the enemy, he gave the victory to the assailants
in the front, and received for this service signal marks of
distinction. Nor was his humanity towards the deceased Archelaus
less taken notice of. He had been formerly his guest and acquaintance,
and, as he was now compelled, he fought him bravely while alive, but
on his death, sought out his body and buried it with royal honours.
The consequence was that he left behind him a great name among the
Alexandrians, and all who were serving in the Roman army looked upon
him as a most gallant soldier.
  He had also a very good and noble appearance; his beard was well
grown, his forehead large, and his nose aquiline, giving him
altogether a bold, masculine look that reminded people of the faces of
Hercules in paintings and sculptures. It was, moreover, an ancient
tradition, that the Antonys were descended from Hercules, by a son
of his called Anton; and this opinion he thought to give credit to
by the similarity of his person just mentioned, and also by the
fashion of his dress. For, whenever he had to appear before large
numbers, he wore his tunic girt low about the hips, a broadsword on
his side, and over all a large coarse mantle. What might seem to
some very insupportable, his vaunting, his raillery, his drinking in
public, sitting down by the men as they were taking their food, and
eating, as he stood, off the common soldiers' tables, made him the
delight and pleasure of the army. In love affairs, also, he was very
agreeable: he gained many friends by the assistance he gave them in
theirs, and took other people's raillery upon his own with
good-humour. And his generous ways, his open and lavish hand in
gifts and favours to his friends and fellow-soldiers, did a great deal
for him in his first advance to power, and after he had become
great, long maintained his fortunes, when a thousand follies were
hastening their overthrow. One instance of his liberality I must
relate. He had ordered payment to one of his friends of twenty-five
myriads of money or decies, as the Romans call it, and his steward
wondering at the extravagance of the sum, laid all the silver in a
heap, as he should pass by. Antony, seeing the heap, asked what it
meant; his steward replied, "The money you have ordered to be given to
your friend." So, perceiving the man's malice, said he, "I thought the
decies had been much more; 'tis too little; let it be doubled."
This, however, was at a later time.
  When the Roman state finally broke up into two hostile factions, the
aristocratical party joining Pompey, who was in the city, and the
popular side seeking help from Caesar, who was at the head of an
army in Gaul, Curio, the friend of Antony, having changed his party
and devoted himself to Caesar, brought over Antony also to his
service. And the influence which he gained with the people by his
eloquence and by the money which was supplied by Caesar, enabled him
to make Antony, first, tribune of the people, and then, augur. And
Antony's accession to office was at once of the greatest advantage
to Caesar. In the first place, he resisted the consul Marcellus, who
was putting under Pompey's orders the troops who were already
collected, and was giving him power to raise new levies; he, on the
other hand, making an order that they should be sent into Syria to
reinforce Bibulus, who was making war with the Parthians, and that
no one should give in his name to serve under Pompey. Next, when the
senators would not suffer Caesar's letters to be received or read in
the senate, by virtue of his office he read them publicly, and
succeeded so well, that many were brought to change their mind;
Caesar's demands, as they appeared in what he wrote, being but just
and reasonable. At length, two questions being put in the senate,
the one, whether Pompey should dismiss his army, the other, if
Caesar his, some were for the former, for the latter all, except
some few, when Antony stood up and put the question, if it would be
agreeable to them that both Pompey and Caesar should dismiss their
armies. This proposal met with the greatest approval, they gave him
loud acclamations, and called for it to be put to the vote. But when
the consuls would not have it so, Caesar's friends again made some few
offers, very fair and equitable, but were strongly opposed by Cato,
and Antony himself was commanded to leave the senate by the consul
Lentulus. So, leaving them with execrations, and disguising himself in
a servant's dress, hiring a carriage with Quintus Cassius, he went
straight away to Caesar, declaring at once, when they reached the
camp, that affairs at Rome were conducted without any order or
justice, that the privilege of speaking in the senate was denied the
tribunes, and that he who spoke for common fair dealing was driven out
and in danger of his life.
  Upon this, Caesar set his army in motion, and marched into Italy;
and for this reason it is that Cicero writes in his Philippics that
Antony was as much the cause of the civil war as Helen was of the
Trojan. But this is but a calumny. For Caesar was not of so slight
or weak a temper as to suffer himself to be carried away, by the
indignation of the moment, into a civil war with his country, upon the
sight of Antony and Cassius seeking refuge in his camp meanly
dressed and in a hired carriage, without ever having thought of it
or taken any such resolution long before. This was to him, who
wanted a pretence of declaring war, a fair and plausible occasion; but
the true motive that led him was the same that formerly led
Alexander and Cyrus against all mankind, the unquenchable thirst of
empire, and the distracted ambition of being the greatest man in the
world, which was impracticable for him, unless Pompey were put down.
So soon, then, as he had advanced and occupied Rome, and driven Pompey
out of Italy, he proposed first to go against the legions that
Pompey had in Spain, and then cross over and follow him with the fleet
that should be prepared during his absence, in the meantime leaving
the government of Rome to Lepidus, as praetor, and the command of
the troops and of Italy to Antony, as tribune of the people. Antony
was not long in getting the hearts of the soldiers, joining with
them in their exercises, and for the most part living amongst them and
making them presents to the utmost of his abilities; but with all
others he was unpopular enough. He was too lazy to pay attention to
the complaints of persons who were injured; he listened impatiently to
petitions; and he had an ill name for familiarity with other
people's wives. In short, the government of Caesar (which, so far as
he was concerned himself, had the appearance of anything rather than a
tyranny) got a bad repute through his friends. And of these friends,
Antony, as he had the largest trust, and committed the greatest
errors, was thought the most deeply in fault.
  Caesar, however, at his return from Spain, overlooked the charges
against him, and had no reason ever to complain, in the employments he
gave him in the war, of any want of courage, energy, or military
skill. He himself, going aboard at Brundusium, sailed over the
Ionian Sea with a few troops and sent back the vessels with orders
to Antony and Gabinius to embark the army, and come over with all
speed to Macedonia. Gabinius, having no mind to put to sea in the
rough, dangerous weather of the winter season, was for marching the
army round by the long land route; but Antony, being more afraid
lest Caesar might suffer from the number of his enemies, who pressed
him hard, beat back Libo, who was watching with a fleet at the mouth
of the haven of Brundusium, by attacking his galleys with a number
of small boats, and gaining thus an opportunity, put on board twenty
thousand foot and eight hundred horse, and so set out to sea. And,
being espied by the enemy and pursued, from this danger he was rescued
by a strong south wind, which sprang up and raised so high a sea
that the enemy's galleys could make little way. But his own ships were
driving before it upon a lee shore of cliffs and rocks running sheer
to the water, where there was no hope of escape, when all of a
sudden the wind turned about to south-west, and blew from land to
the main sea, where Antony, now sailing in security, saw the coast all
covered with the wreck of the enemy's fleet. For hither the galleys in
pursuit had been carried by the gale, and not a few of them dashed
to pieces. Many men and much property fell into Antony's hands; he
took also the town of Lissus, and, by the seasonable arrival of so
large a reinforcement, gave Caesar great encouragement.
  There was not one of the many engagements that now took place one
after another in which he did not signalize himself; twice he
stopped the army in its full flight, led them back to a charge, and
gained the victory. So that now without reason his reputation, next to
Caesar's, was greatest in the army. And what opinion Caesar himself
had of him well appeared when, for the final battle in Pharsalia,
which was to determine everything, he himself chose to lead the
right wing, committing the charge of the left to Antony, as to the
best officer of all that served under him. After the battle, Caesar,
being created dictator, went in pursuit of Pompey, and sent Antony
to Rome, with the character of Master of the Horse, who is in office
and power next to the dictator, when present, and in his absence the
first, and pretty nearly indeed the sole magistrate. For on the
appointment of a dictator, with the one exception of the tribunes, all
other magistrates cease to exercise any authority in Rome.
  Dolabella, however, who was tribune, being a young man and eager for
change, was now for bringing in a general measure for cancelling
debts, and wanted Antony, who was his friend, and forward enough to
promote any popular project, to take part with him in this step.
Asinius and Trebellius were of the contrary opinion, and it so
happened, at the same time, Antony was crossed by a terrible suspicion
that Dolabella was too familiar with his wife; and in great trouble at
this, he parted with her (she being his cousin, and daughter to
Caius Antonius, colleague of Cicero), and, taking part with Asinius,
came to open hostilities with Dolabella, who had seized on the
forum, intending to pass his law by force. Antony, backed by a vote of
the senate that Dolabella should be put down by force of arms, went
down and attacked him, killing some of his, and losing some of his own
men; and by this action lost his favour with the commonalty, while
with the better class and with all well-conducted people his general
course of life made him, as Cicero says absolutely odious, utter
disgust being excited by his drinking bouts at all hours, his wild
expenses, his gross amours, the day spent in sleeping or walking off
his debauches, and the night in banquets and at theatres, and in
celebrating the nuptials of some comedian or buffoon. It is related
that, drinking all night at the wedding of Hippias, the comedian, on
the morning, having to harangue the people, he came forward,
overcharged as he was, and vomited before them all, one of his friends
holding his gown for him. Sergius, the player, was one of the
friends who could do most with him; also Cytheris, a woman of the same
trade, whom he made much of, and who, when he went his progress,
accompanied him in a litter, and had her equipage not in anything
inferior to his mother's; while every one, moreover, was scandalized
at the sight of the golden cups that he took with him, fitter for
the ornaments of a procession than the uses of a journey, at his
having pavilions set up, and sumptuous morning repasts laid out by
river sides and in groves, at his having chariots drawn by lions,
and common women and singing girls quartered upon the houses of
serious fathers and mothers of families. And it seemed very
unreasonable that Caesar, out of Italy, should lodge in the open
field, and with great fatigue and danger, pursue the remainder of a
hazardous war, whilst others, by favour of his authority, should
insult the citizens with their impudent luxury.
  All this appears to have aggravated party quarrels in Rome, and to
have encouraged the soldiers in acts of licence and rapacity. And,
accordingly, when Caesar came home, he acquitted Dolabella, and, being
created the third time consul, took not Antony, but Lepidus, for his
colleague. Pompey's house being offered for sale, Antony bought it,
and when the price was demanded of him, loudly complained. This, he
tells us himself and because he thought his former services had not
been recompensed as they deserved, made him not follow Caesar with the
army into Libya. However, Caesar, by dealing gently with his errors,
seems to have succeeded in curing him of a good deal of his folly
and extravagance. He gave up his former courses, and took a wife,
Fulvia, the widow of Clodius the demagogue, a woman not born for
spinning or housewifery, nor one that could be content with ruling a
private husband, but prepared to govern a first magistrate, or give
orders to a commander-in-chief. So that Cleopatra had great
obligations to her for having taught Antony to be so good a servant,
he coming to her hands tame and broken into entire obedience to the
commands of a mistress. He used to play all sorts of sportive,
boyish tricks, to keep Fulvia in good-humour. As, for example, when
Caesar, after his victory in Spain, was on his return, Antony, among
the rest, went out to meet him; and, a rumour being spread that Caesar
was killed and the enemy marching into Italy, he returned to Rome,
and, disguising himself, came to her by night muffled up as a
servant that brought letters from Antony. She, with great
impatience, before received the letter, asks if Antony were well,
and instead of an answer he gives her the letter; and, as she was
opening it, took her about the neck and kissed her. This little story,
of many of the same nature, I give as a specimen.
  There was nobody of any rank in Rome that did not go some days'
journey to meet Caesar on his return from Spain; but Antony was the
best received of any, admitted to ride the whole journey with him in
his carriage, while behind came Brutus Albinus and Octavian, his
niece's son, who afterwards bore his name and reigned so long over the
Romans. Caesar being created, the fifth time, consul, without delay
chose Antony for his colleague, but designing himself to give up his
own consulate to Dolabella, he acquainted the senate with his
resolution. But Antony opposed it with all his might, saying much that
was bad against Dolabella, and receiving the like language in
return, till Caesar could bear with the indecency no longer, and
deferred the matter to another time. Afterwards, when he came before
the people to proclaim Dolabella, Antony cried out that the auspices
were unfavourable, so that at last Caesar, much to Dolabella's
vexation, yielded and gave it up. And it is credible that Caesar was
about as much disgusted with the one as the other. When some one was
accusing them both to him, "It is not," said he, "these well-fed,
long-haired men that I fear, but the pale and the hungry-looking;"
meaning Brutus and Cassius, by whose conspiracy he afterwards fell.
  And the fairest pretext for that conspiracy was furnished, without
his meaning it, by Antony himself. The Romans were celebrating their
festival, called the Lupercalia, when Caesar, in his triumphal
habit, and seated above the rostra in the market-place, was a
spectator of the sports. The custom is, that many young noblemen and
of the magistracy, anointed with oil and having straps of hide in
their hands, run about and strike, in sport, at every one they meet.
Antony was running with the rest; but, omitting the old ceremony,
twining a garland of bay round a diadem, he ran up to the rostra, and,
being lifted up by his companions, would have put it upon the head
of Caesar, as if by that ceremony he was declared king. Caesar
seemingly refused, and drew aside to avoid it, and was applauded by
the people with great shouts. Again Antony pressed it, and again he
declined its acceptance. And so the dispute between them went on for
some time, Antony's solicitations receiving but little encouragement
from the shouts of a few friends, and Caesar's refusal being
accompanied with the general applause of the people; a curious thing
enough, that they should submit with patience to the fact, and yet
at the same time dread the name as the destruction of their liberty.
Caesar, very much discomposed at what had passed got up from his seat,
and, laying bare his neck, said he was ready to receive a stroke, if
any one of them desired to give it. The crown was at last put on one
of his statues, but was taken down by some of the tribunes, who were
followed home by the people with shouts of applause. Caesar,
however, resented it, and deposed them.
  These passages gave great encouragement to Brutus and Cassius, who
in making choice of trusty friends for such an enterprise, were
thinking to engage Antony. The rest approved, except Trebonius, who
told them that Antony and he had lodged and travelled together in
the last journey they took to meet Caesar, and that he had let fall
several words, in a cautious way, on purpose to sound him; that Antony
very well understood him, but did not encourage it; however, he had
said nothing of it to Caesar, but had kept the secret faithfully.
The conspirators then proposed that Antony should die with him,
which Brutus would not consent to, insisting that an action undertaken
in defence of right and the laws must be maintained unsullied, and
pure of injustice. It was settled that Antony, whose bodily strength
and high office made him formidable, should, at Caesar's entrance into
the senate, when the deed was to be done, be amused outside by some of
the party in a conversation about some pretended business.
  So when all was proceeded with, according to their plan, and
Caesar had fallen in the senate-house, Antony, at the first moment,
took a servant's dress, and hid himself. But, understanding that the
conspirators had assembled in the Capitol, and had no further design
upon any one, he persuaded them to come down, giving them his son as a
hostage. That night Cassius supped at Antony's house, and Brutus
with Lepidus. Antony then convened the senate, and spoke in favour
of an act of oblivion, and the appointment of Brutus and Cassius to
provinces. These measures the senate passed; and resolved that all
Caesar's acts should remain in force. Thus Antony went out of the
senate with the highest possible reputation and esteem; for it was
apparent that he had prevented a civil war, and had composed, in the
wisest and most statesmanlike way, questions of the greatest
difficulty and embarrassment. But these temperate counsels were soon
swept away by the tide of popular applause, and the prospect, if
Brutus were overthrown, of being without doubt the ruler-in-chief.
As Caesar's body was conveying to the tomb, Antony, according to the
custom, was making his funeral oration in the market-place, and
perceiving the people to be infinitely affected with what he had said,
he began to mingle with his praises language of commiseration, and
horror at what had happened, and, as he was ending his speech, he took
the under-clothes of the dead, and held them up, showing them stains
of blood and the holes of the many stabs, calling those that had
done this act villains and bloody murderers. All which excited the
people to such indignation, that they would not defer the funeral,
but, making a pile of tables and forms in the very market-place, set
fire to it; and every one, taking a brand, ran to the conspirators'
houses, to attack them.
  Upon this, Brutus and his whole party left the city, and Caesar's
friends joined themselves to Antony. Calpurnia, Caesar's wife,
lodged with him the best part of the property to the value of four
thousand talents; he got also into his hands all Caesar's papers
wherein were contained journals of all he had done, and draughts of
what he designed to do, which Antony made good use of; for by this
means he appointed what magistrates he pleased, brought whom he
would into the senate, recalled some from exile, freed others out of
prison, and all this as ordered so by Caesar. The Romans, in
mockery, gave those who were thus benefited the name of Charonites,
since, if put to prove their patents, they must have recourse to the
papers of the dead. In short, Antony's behaviour in Rome was very
absolute, he himself being consul and his two brothers in great place;
Caius, the one, being praetor, and Lucius, the other, tribune of the
people.
  While matters went thus in Rome, the young Caesar, Caesar's
niece's son, and by testament left his heir, arrived at Rome from
Apollonia, where he was when his uncle was killed. The first thing
he did was to visit Antony, as his father's friend. He spoke to him
concerning the money that was in his hands, and reminded him of the
legacy Caesar had made of seventy-five drachmas of every Roman
citizen. Antony, at first, laughing at such discourse from so young
a man, told him he wished he were in his health, and that he wanted
good counsel and good friends to tell him the burden of being executor
to Caesar would sit very uneasy upon his young shoulders. This was
no answer to him; and, when he persisted in demanding the property,
Antony went on treating him injuriously both in word and deed, opposed
him when he stood for the tribune's office, and, when he was taking
steps for the dedication of his father's golden chair, as had been
enacted, he threatened to send him to prison if he did not give over
soliciting the people. This made the young Caesar apply himself to
Cicero, and all those that hated Antony; by them he was recommended to
the senate, while he himself courted the people, and drew together the
soldiers from their settlements, till Antony got alarmed, and gave him
a meeting in the Capitol, where, after some words, they came to an
accommodation.
  That night Antony had a very unlucky dream, fancying that his
right hand was thunderstruck. And, some few days after, he was
informed that Caesar was plotting to take his life. Caesar
explained, but was not believed, so that the breach was now made as
wide as ever; each of them hurried about all through Italy to
engage, by great offers, the old soldiers that lay scattered in
their settlements, and to be the first to secure the troops that still
remained undischarged. Cicero was at this time the man of greatest
influence in Rome. He made use of all his art to exasperate the people
against Antony, and at length persuaded the senate to declare him a
public enemy, to send Caesar the rods and axes and other marks of
honour usually given to proctors, and to issue orders to Hirtius and
Pansa, who were the consuls, to drive Antony out of Italy. The
armies engaged near Modena, and Caesar himself was present and took
part in the battle. Antony was defeated, but both the consuls were
slain. Antony, in his flight, was overtaken by distresses of every
kind, and the worst of all of them was famine. But it was his
character in calamities to be better than at any other time. Antony,
in misfortune, was most nearly a virtuous man. It is common enough for
people, when they fall into great disasters, to discern what is right,
and what they ought to do; but there are but few who in such
extremities have the strength to obey their judgment, either in
doing what it approves or avoiding what it condemns; and a good many
are so weak as to give way to their habits all the more, and are
incapable of using their using minds. Antony, on this occasion, was
a most wonderful example to his soldiers. He, who had just quitted
so much luxury and sumptuous living, made no difficulty now of
drinking foul water and feeding on wild fruits and roots. Nay, it is
related they ate the very bark of trees, and, in passing over the
Alps, lived upon creatures that no one before had ever been willing to
touch.
  The design was to join the army on the other side the Alps,
commanded by Lepidus, who he imagined would stand his friend, he
having done him many good offices with Caesar. On coming up and
encamping near at hand, finding he had no sort of encouragement
offered him, he resolved to push his fortune and venture all. His hair
was long and disordered, nor had he shaved his beard since his defeat;
in this guise, and with a dark coloured cloak flung over him, he
came into the trenches of Lepidus, and began to address the army. Some
were moved at his habit, others at his words, so that Lepidus, not
liking it, ordered the trumpets to sound, that he might be heard no
longer. This raised in the soldiers yet a greater pity, so that they
resolved to confer secretly with him, and dressed Laelius and
Clodius in women's clothes, and sent them to see him. They advised him
without delay to attack Lepidus's trenches, assuring him that a strong
party would receive him, and, if he wished it, would kill Lepidus.
Antony, however, had no wish for this, but next morning marched his
army to pass over the river that parted the two camps. He was
himself the first man that stepped in, and, as he went through towards
the other bank, he saw Lepidus's soldiers in great numbers reaching
out their hands to help him, and beating down the works to make him
way. Being entered into the camp, and finding himself absolute master,
he nevertheless treated Lepidus with the greatest civility, and gave
him the title of Father, when he spoke to him, and though he had
everything at his own command, he left him the honour of being
called the general. This fair usage brought over to him Munatius
Plancus, who was not far off with a considerable force. Thus in
great strength he repassed the Alps, leading with him into Italy
seventeen legions and ten thousand horse, besides six legions which he
left in garrison under the command of Varius, one of his familiar
friends and boon companions, whom they used to call by the nickname of
Cotylon.
  Caesar, perceiving that Cicero's wishes were for liberty, had ceased
to pay any further regard to him, and was now employing the
mediation of his friends to come to a good understanding with
Antony. They both met together with Lepidus in a small island, where
the conference lasted three days. The empire was soon determined of,
it being divided amongst them as if it had been their paternal
inheritance. That which gave them all the trouble was to agree who
should be put to death, each of them desiring to destroy his enemies
and to save his friends. But, in the end, animosity to those they
hated carried the day against respect for relations and affection
for friends; and Caesar sacrificed Cicero to Antony, Antony gave up
his uncle Lucius Caesar, and Lepidus received permission to murder his
brother Paulus, or, as others say, yielded his brother to them. I do
not believe anything ever took place more truly savage or barbarous
than this composition, for, in this exchange of blood for blood,
they were guilty of the lives they surrendered and of those they took;
or, indeed, more guilty in the case of their friends for whose
deaths they had not even the justification of hatred. To complete
the reconciliation, the soldiery, coming about them, demanded that
confirmation should be given to it by some alliance of marriage;
Caesar should marry Clodia, the daughter of Fulvia, wife to Antony.
This also being agreed to, three hundred persons were put to death
by proscription. Antony gave orders to those that were to kill
Cicero to cut off his head and right hand, with which he had written
his invectives against him; and, when they were brought before him, he
regarded them joyfully, actually bursting out more than once into
laughter, and, when he had satiated himself with the sight of them,
ordered them to be hung up above the speaker's place in the forum,
thinking thus to insult the dead, while in fact he only exposed his
own wanton arrogance, and his unworthiness to hold the power that
fortune had given him. His uncle, Lucius Caesar, being closely
pursued, took refuge with his sister, who, when the murderers had
broken into her house and were pressing into her chamber, met them
at the door, and spreading out hands, cried out several times. "You
shall not kill Lucius Caesar till you first despatch me who gave
your general his birth;" and in this manner she succeeded in getting
her brother out of the way, and saving his life.
  This triumvirate was very hateful to the Romans, and Antony most
of all bore the blame, because he was older than Caesar, and had
greater authority than Lepidus, and withal he was no sooner settled in
his affairs, but he turned to his luxurious and dissolute way of
living. Besides the ill reputation he gained by his general behaviour,
it was some considerable disadvantage to him his living in the house
of Pompey the Great, who had been as much admired for his temperance
and his sober, citizen-like habits of life, as ever he was for
having triumphed three times. They could not without anger see the
doors of that house shut against magistrates, officers, and envoys,
who were shamefully refused admittance, while it was filled inside
with players, jugglers, and drunken flatterers, upon whom were spent
the greatest part of the wealth which violence and cruelty procured.
For they did not limit themselves to the forfeiture of the estates
of such as were proscribed, defrauding the widows and families, nor
were they contented with laying on every possible kind of tax and
imposition; but hearing that several sums of money were, as well by
strangers as citizens of Rome, deposited in the hands of the vestal
virgins, they went and took the money away by force. When it was
manifest that nothing would ever be enough for Antony, Caesar at
last called for a division of property. The army was also divided
between them, upon their march into Macedonia to make war with
Brutus and Cassius, Lepidus being left with the command of the city.
  However, after they had crossed the sea and engaged in operations of
war, encamping in front of the enemy, Antony opposite Cassius, and
Caesar opposite Brutus, Caesar did nothing worth relating, and all the
success and victory were Antony's. In the first battle, Caesar was
completely routed by Brutus, his camp taken, he himself very
narrowly escaping by flight. As he himself writes in his Memoirs, he
retired before the battle, on account of a dream which one of his
friends had. But Antony, on the other hand, defeated Cassius; though
some have written that he was not actually present in the
engagement, and only joined afterwards in the pursuit. Cassius was
killed, at his own entreaty and order, by one of his most trusted
freedmen, Pindarus, not being aware of Brutus's victory. After a few
days' interval, they fought another battle, in which Brutus lost the
day, and slew himself; and Caesar being sick, Antony had almost all
the honour of the victory. Standing over Brutus's dead body, he
uttered a few words of reproach upon him for the death of his
brother Caius, who had been executed by Brutus's order in Macedonia in
revenge of Cicero; but, saying presently that Hortensius was most to
blame for it, he gave order for his being slain upon his brother's
tomb, and, throwing his own scarlet mantle, which was of great
value, upon the body of Brutus, he gave charge to one of his own
freedmen to take care of his funeral. This man, as Antony came to
understand, did not leave the mantle with the corpse, but kept both it
and a good part of the money that should have been spent in the
funeral for himself; for which he had him put to death.
  But Caesar was conveyed to Rome, no one expecting that he would long
survive. Antony, purposing to go to the eastern provinces to lay
them under contribution, entered Greece with a large force. The
promise had been made that every common soldier should receive for his
pay five thousand drachmas; so it was likely there would be need of
pretty severe taxing and levying to raise money. However, to the
Greeks he showed at first reason and moderation enough; he gratified
his love of amusement by hearing the learned men dispute, by seeing
the games, and undergoing initiation; and in judicial matters he was
equitable, taking pleasure in being styled a lover of Greece, but,
above all, in being called a lover of Athens, to which city he made
very considerable presents. The people of Megara wished to let him
know that they also had something to show him, and invited him to come
and see their senate-house. So he went and examined it, and on their
asking him how he liked it, told them it was "not very large, but
extremely ruinous." At the same time, he had a survey made of the
temple of the Pythian Apollo as if he had designed to repair it, and
indeed he had declared to the senate his intention so to do.
  However, leaving Lucius Censorinus in Greece, he crossed over into
Asia, and there laid his hands on the stores of accumulated wealth,
while kings waited at his door, and queens were rivalling one another,
who should make him the greatest presents or appear most charming in
his eyes. Thus, whilst Caesar in Rome was wearing out his strength
amidst seditions and wars, Antony, with nothing to do amidst the
enjoyments of peace, let his passions carry him easily back to the old
course of life that was familiar to him. A set of harpers and
pipers, Anaxenor and Xuthus, the dancing-man, Metrodorus, and a
whole Bacchic rout of the like Asiatic exhibitors, far outdoing in
licence and buffoonery the pests that had followed him out of Italy,
came in and possessed the court; the thing was past patience, wealth
of all kinds being wasted on objects like these. The whole of Asia was
like the city in Sophocles, loaded, at one time-

               "---------with incense in the air,
         Jubilant songs, and outcries of despair."

  When he made his entry into Ephesus, the women met him dressed up
like Bacchantes, and the men and boys like satyrs and fauns, and
throughout the town nothing was to be seen but spears wreathed about
with ivy, harps, flutes, and psalteries, while Antony in their songs
was Bacchus, the Giver of joy, and the Gentle. And so indeed he was to
some but to far more the Devourer and the Savage; for he would deprive
persons of worth and quality of their fortunes to gratify villains and
flatterers, who would sometimes beg the estates of men yet living,
pretending they were dead, and, obtaining a grant, take possession. He
gave his cook the house of a Magnesian citizen, as a reward for a
single highly successful supper, and, at last, when he was
proceeding to lay a second whole tribute on Asia, Hybreas, speaking on
behalf of the cities, took courage, and told him broadly, but aptly
enough for Antony's taste "if you can take two yearly tributes, you
can doubtless give us a couple of summers and a double harvest
time;" and put it to him in the plainest and boldest way, that Asia
had raised two hundred thousand talents for his service: "If this
has not been paid to you, ask your collectors for it; if it has, and
is all gone, we are ruined men." These words touched Antony to the
quick, who was simply ignorant of most things that were done in his
name; not that he was so indolent, as he was prone to trust frankly in
all about him. For there was much simplicity in his character; he
was slow to see his faults, but when he did see them, was extremely
repentant, and ready to ask pardon of those he had injured prodigal in
his acts of reparation, and severe in his punishments, but his
generosity was much more extravagant than his severity; his raillery
was sharp and insulting, but the edge of it was taken off by his
readiness to submit to any kind of repartee; for he was as well
contented to be rallied, as he was pleased to rally others. And this
freedom of speech was, indeed, the cause of many of his disasters.
He never imagined those who used so much liberty in their mirth
would flatter or deceive him in business of consequence, not knowing
how common it is with parasites to mix their flattery with boldness,
as confectioners do their sweetmeats with something biting, to prevent
the sense of satiety. Their freedoms and impertinences at table were
designed expressly to give to their obsequiousness in council the
air of being not complaisance, but conviction.
  Such being his temper, the last and crowning mischief that could
befall him came in the love of Cleopatra, to awaken and kindle to fury
passions that as yet lay still and dormant in his nature, and to
stifle and finally corrupt any elements that yet made resistance in
him of goodness and a sound judgment. He fell into the snare thus.
When making preparation for the Parthian war, he sent to command her
to make her personal appearance in Cilicia, to answer an accusation
that she had given great assistance, in the late wars, to Cassius.
Dellius, who was sent on this message, had no sooner seen her face,
and remarked her adroitness and subtlety in speech, but he felt
convinced that Antony would not so much as think of giving any
molestation to a woman like this; on the contrary, she would be the
first in favour with him. So he set himself at once to pay his court
to the Egyptian, and gave her his advice, "to go," in the Homeric
style, to Cilicia, "in her best attire," and bade her fear nothing
from Antony, the gentlest and kindest of soldiers. She had some
faith in the words of Dellius, but more in her own attractions; which,
having formerly recommended her to Caesar and the young Cnaeus Pompey,
she did not doubt might prove yet more successful with Antony. Their
acquaintance was with her when a girl, young and ignorant of the
world, but she was to meet Antony in the time of life when women's
beauty is most splendid, and their intellects are in full maturity.
She made great preparation for her journey, of money, gifts, and
ornaments of value, such as so wealthy a kingdom might afford, but she
brought with her her surest hopes in her own magic arts and charms.
  She received several letters, both from Antony and from his friends,
to summon her, but she took no account of these orders; and at last,
as if in mockery of them, she came sailing up the river Cydnus, in a
barge with gilded stern and outspread sails of purple, while oars of
silver beat time to the music of flutes and fifes and harps. She
herself lay all along under a canopy of cloth of gold, dressed as
Venus in a picture, and beautiful young boys, like painted Cupids,
stood on each side to fan her. Her maids were dressed like sea
nymphs and graces, some steering at the rudder, some working at the
ropes. The perfumes diffused themselves from the vessel to the
shore, which was covered with multitudes, part following the galley up
the river on either bank, part running out of the city to see the
sight. The market-place was quite emptied, and Antony at last was left
alone sitting upon the tribunal; while the word went through all the
multitude, that Venus was come to feast with Bacchus, for the common
good of Asia. On her arrival, Antony sent to invite her to supper. She
thought it fitter he should come to her; so, willing to show his
good-humour and courtesy, he complied, and went. He found the
preparations to receive him magnificent beyond expression, but nothing
so admirable as the great number of lights; for on a sudden there
was let down altogether so great a number of branches with lights in
them so ingeniously disposed, some in squares, and some in circles,
that the whole thing was a spectacle that has seldom been equalled for
beauty.
  The next day, Antony invited her to supper, and was very desirous to
outdo her as well in magnificence as contrivance; but he found he
was altogether beaten in both, and was so well convinced of it that he
was himself the first to jest and mock at his poverty of wit and his
rustic awkwardness. She, perceiving that his raillery was broad and
gross, and savoured more of the soldier than the courtier, rejoined in
the same taste, and fell into it at once, without any sort of
reluctance or reserve. For her actual beauty, it is said, was not in
itself so remarkable that none could be compared with her, or that
no one could see her without being struck by it, but the contact of
her presence, if you lived with her, was irresistible; the
attraction of her person, joining with the charm of her
conversation, and the character that attended all she said or did, was
something bewitching. It was a pleasure merely to hear the sound of
her voice, with which, like an instrument of many strings, she could
pass from one language to another; so that there were few of the
barbarian nations that she answered by an interpreter; to most of them
she spoke herself, as to the Ethiopians, Troglodytes, Hebrews,
Arabians, Syrians, Medes, Parthians, and many others, whose language
she had learnt; which was all the more surprising because most of
the kings, her predecessors, scarcely gave themselves the trouble to
acquire the Egyptian tongue, and several of them quite abandoned the
Macedonian.
  Antony was so captivated by her that, while Fulvia his wife
maintained his quarrels in Rome against Caesar by actual force of
arms, and the Parthian troops, commanded by Labienus (the king's
generals having made him commander-in-chief), were assembled in
Mesopotamia, and ready to enter Syria, he could yet suffer himself
to be carried away by her to Alexandria, there to keep holiday, like a
boy, in play and diversion, squandering and fooling away in enjoyments
that most costly, as Antiphon says, of all valuables, time. They had a
sort of company, to which they gave a particular name, calling it that
of the Inimitable Livers. The members entertained one another daily in
turn, with all extravagance of expenditure beyond measure or belief.
Philotas, a physician of Amphissa, who was at that time a student of
medicine in Alexandria, used to tell my grandfather Lamprias that,
having some acquaintance with one of the royal cooks, he was invited
by him, being a young man, to come and see the sumptuous
preparations for supper. So he was taken into the kitchen, where he
admired the prodigious variety of all things; but particularly, seeing
eight wild boars roasting whole, says he, "Surely you have a great
number of guests." The cook laughed at his simplicity, and told him
there were not above twelve to sup, but that every dish was to be
served up just roasted to a turn, and if anything was but one minute
ill-timed, it was spoiled; "And," said he, "maybe Antony will sup just
now, maybe not this hour, maybe he will call for wine, or begin to
talk, and will put it off. So that," he continued, "it is not one, but
many suppers must be had in readiness, as it is impossible to guess at
his hour." This was Philotas's story; who related besides, that he
afterwards came to be one the medical attendants of Antony's eldest
son by Fulvia, and used to be invited pretty often, among other
companions, to his table, when he was not supping with his father. One
day another physician had talked loudly, and given great disturbance
to the company, whose mouth Philotas stopped with this sophistical
syllogism: "In some states of fever the patient should take cold
water; every one who has a fever is in some state of fever;
therefore in a fever cold water should always be taken." The man was
quite struck dumb, and Antony's son, very much pleased, laughed aloud,
and said, "Philotas, I make you a present of all you see there,"
pointing to a sideboard covered with plate. Philotas thanked him much,
but was far enough from ever imagining that a boy of his age could
dispose of things of that value. Soon after, however, the plate was
all brought to him, and he was desired to get his mark upon it; and
when he put it away from him, and was afraid to accept the present.
"What ails the man?" said he that brought it; "do you know that he who
gives you this is Antony's son, who is free to give it, if it were all
gold? but if you will be advised by me, I would counsel you to
accept of the value in money from us; for there may be amongst the
rest some antique or famous piece of workmanship, which Antony would
be sorry to part with." These anecdotes, my grandfather told us,
Philotas used frequently to relate.
  To return to Cleopatra; Plato admits four sorts of flattery, but she
had a thousand. Were Antony serious or disposed to mirth, she had at
any moment some new delight or charm to meet his wishes; at every turn
she was upon him, and let him escape her neither by day nor by
night. She played at dice with him, drank with him, hunted with him;
and when he exercised in arms, she was there to see. At night she
would go rambling with him to disturb and torment people at their
doors and windows, dressed like a servant-woman, for Antony also
went in servant's disguise, and from these expeditions he often came
home very scurvily answered, and sometimes even beaten severely,
though most people guessed who it was. However, the Alexandrians in
general liked it all well enough, and joined good-humouredly and
kindly in his frolic and play, saying they were much obliged to Antony
for acting his tragic parts at Rome, and keeping comedy for them. It
would be trifling without end to be particular in his follies, but his
fishing must not be forgotten. He went out one day to angle with
Cleopatra, and, being so unfortunate as to catch nothing in the
presence of his mistress, he gave secret orders to the fishermen to
dive under water, and put fishes that had been already taken upon
his hooks; and these he drew so fast that the Egyptian perceived it.
But, feigning great admiration, she told everybody how dexterous
Antony was, and invited them next day to come and see him again. So,
when a number of them had come on board the fishing-boats, as soon
as he had let down his hook, one of her servants was beforehand with
his divers and fixed upon his hook a salted fish from Pontus.
Antony, feeling his line give, drew up the prey, and when, as may be
imagined, great laughter ensued, "Leave," said Cleopatra, "the
fishing-rod, general, to us poor sovereigns of Pharos and Canopus;
your game is cities, provinces, and kingdoms."
  Whilst he was thus diverting himself and engaged in this boy's play,
two despatches arrived; one from Rome, that his brother Lucius and his
wife Fulvia, after many quarrels among themselves, had joined in war
against Caesar, and having lost all, had fled out of Italy; the
other bringing little better news, that Labienus, at the head of the
Parthians, was overrunning Asia, from Euphrates and Syria as far as
Lydia and Ionia. So, scarcely at last rousing himself from sleep,
and shaking off the fumes of wine, he set out to attack the Parthians,
and went as far as Phoenicia; but, upon the receipt of lamentable
letters from Fulvia, turned his course with two hundred ships to
Italy. And, in his way, receiving such of his friends as fled from
Italy, he was given to understand that Fulvia was the sole cause of
the war, a woman of a restless spirit and very bold, and withal her
hopes were that commotions in Italy would force Antony from Cleopatra.
But it happened that Fulvia as she was coming to meet her husband,
fell sick by the way, and died at Sicyon, so that an accommodation was
the more easily made. For when he reached Italy, and Caesar showed
no intention of laying anything to his charge, and he on his part
shifted the blame of everything on Fulvia, those that were friends
to them would not suffer that the time should be spent in looking
narrowly into the plea, but made a reconciliation first, and then a
partition of the empire between them, taking as their boundary the
Ionian Sea, the eastern provinces falling to Antony, to Caesar the
western, and Africa being left to Lepidus. And an agreement was made
that everyone in their turn, as they thought fit, should make their
friends consuls, when they did not choose to take the offices
themselves.
  These terms were well approved of, but yet it was thought some
closer tie would be desirable; and for this, fortune offered occasion.
Caesar had an elder sister, not of the whole blood, for Attia was
his mother's name, hers Ancharia. This sister, Octavia, he was
extremely attached to, as indeed she was, it is said, quite a wonder
of a woman. Her husband, Caius Marcellus, had died not long before,
and Antony was now a widower by the death of Fulvia; for, though he
did not disavow the passion he had for Cleopatra, yet he disowned
anything of marriage, reason as yet, upon this point, still
maintaining the debate against the charms of the Egyptian. Everybody
concurred in promoting this new alliance, fully expecting that with
the beauty, honour, and prudence of Octavia, when her company
should, as it was certain it would, have engaged his affections, all
would be kept in the safe and happy course of friendship. So, both
parties being agreed, they went to Rome to celebrate the nuptials, the
senate dispensing with the law by which a widow was not permitted to
marry till ten months after the death of her husband.
  Sextus Pompeius was in possession of Sicily, and with his ships,
under the command of Menas, the pirate, and Menecrates, so infested
the Italian coast that no vessels durst venture into those seas.
Sextus had behaved with much humanity towards Antony, having
received his mother when she fled with Fulvia, and it was therefore
judged fit that he also should be received into the peace. They met
near the promontory of Misenum, by the mole of the port, Pompey having
his fleet at anchor close by, and Antony and Caesar their troops drawn
up all along the shore. There it was concluded that Sextus should
quietly enjoy the government of Sicily and Sardinia, he conditioning
to scour the seas of all pirates, and to send so much corn every
year to Rome.
  This agreed on, they invited one another to supper, and by lot it
fell to Pompey's turn to give the first entertainment, and Antony,
asking where it was to be, "There," said he, pointing to the
admiral-galley, a ship of six banks of oars. "that is the only house
that Pompey is heir to of his father's." And this he said,
reflecting upon Antony, who was then in possession of his father's
house. Having fixed the ship on her anchors, and formed a bridgeway
from the promontory to conduct on board of her, he gave them a cordial
welcome. And when they began to grow warm, and jests were passing
freely on Antony and Cleopatra's loves, Menas, the pirate, whispered
Pompey, in the ear, "Shall I," said he, "cut the cables and make you
master not of Sicily only and Sardinia, but of the whole Roman
empire?" Pompey, having considered a little while, returned him
answer, "Menas, this might have been done without acquainting me;
now we must rest content; I do not break my word." And so, having been
entertained by the other two in their turns, he set sail for Sicily.
  After the treaty was completed, Antony despatched Ventidius into
Asia, to check the advance of the Parthians, while he, as a compliment
to Caesar, accepted the office of priest to the deceased Caesar. And
in any state affair and matter of consequence, they both behaved
themselves with much consideration and friendliness for each other.
But it annoyed Antony that in all their amusements, on any trial of
skill or fortune, Caesar should be constantly victorious. He had
with him an Egyptian diviner, one of those who calculate nativities,
who, either to make his court to Cleopatra, or that by the rules of
his art he found it to be so, openly declared to him that though the
fortune that attended him was bright and glorious, yet it was
overshadowed by Caesar's; and advised him to keep himself as far
distant as he could from that young man; "for your Genius," said he,
"dreads his; when absent from him yours is proud and brave, but in his
presence unmanly and dejected;" and incidents that occurred appeared
to show that the Egyptian spoke truth. For whenever they cast lots for
any playful purpose, or threw dice, Antony was still the loser; and
when they fought game-cocks or quails, Caesar's had the victory.
This gave Antony a secret displeasure, and made him put the more
confidence in the skill of his Egyptian. So, leaving the management of
his home affairs to Caesar, he left Italy, and took Octavia, who had
lately borne him a daughter, along with him into Greece.
  Here, whilst he wintered in Athens, he received the first news of
Ventidius's successes over the Parthians, of his having defeated
them in a battle, having slain Labienus and Pharnapates, the best
general their king, Hyrodes, possessed. For the celebrating of which
he made public feast through Greece, and for the prizes which were
contested at Athens he himself acted as steward, and, leaving at
home the ensigns that are carried before the general, he made his
public appearance in a gown and white shoes, with the steward's
wands marching before; and he performed his duty in taking the
combatants by the neck, to part them, when they had fought enough.
  When the time came for him to set out for the war, he took a garland
from the sacred olive, and, in obedience to some oracle, he filled a
vessel with the water of the Clepsydra to carry along with him. In
this interval, Pacorus, the Parthian king's son, who was marching into
Syria with a large army, was met by Ventidius, who gave him battle
in the country of Cyrrhestica, slew a large number of his men, and
Pacorus among the first. This victory was one of the most renowned
achievements of the Romans, and fully avenged their defeats under
Crassus, the Parthians being obliged, after the loss of three
battles successively, to keep themselves within the bounds of Media
and Mesopotamia. Ventidius was not willing to push his good fortune
further, for fear of raising some jealousy in Antony, but turning
his aims against those that had quitted the Roman interest, he reduced
them to their former obedience. Among the rest, he besieged Antiochus,
King of Commagene, in the city of Samosata, who made an offer of a
thousand talents for his pardon, and a promise of submission to
Antony's commands. But Ventidius told him that he must send to Antony,
who was already on his march, and had sent word to Ventidius to make
no terms with Antiochus, wishing that at any rate this one exploit
might be ascribed to him, and that people might not think that all his
successes were won by his lieutenants. The siege, however, was long
protracted; for when those within found their offers refused, they
defended themselves stoutly, till, at last, Antony, finding he was
doing nothing, in shame and regret for having refused the first offer,
was glad to make an accommodation with Antiochus for three hundred
talents. And, having given some orders for the affairs of Syria, he
returned to Athens; and, paying Ventidius the honours he well
deserved, dismissed him to receive his triumph. He is the only man
that has ever yet triumphed for victories obtained over the Parthians;
he was of obscure birth, but, by means of Antony's friendship,
obtained an opportunity of showing his capacity, and doing great
things; and his making such glorious use of it gave new credit to
the current observation about Caesar and Antony, that they were more
fortunate in what they did by their lieutenants than in their own
persons. For Sossius, also, had great success, and Canidius, whom he
left in Armenia, defeated the people there, and also the kings of
the Albanians and Iberians, and marched victorious as far as Caucasus,
by which means the fame of Antony's arms had become great among the
barbarous nations.
  He, however, once more, upon some unfavourable stories, taking
offence against Caesar, set sail with three hundred ships for Italy,
and, being refused admittance to the port of Brundusium, made for
Tarentum. There his wife Octavia, who came from Greece with him,
obtained leave to visit her brother, she being then great with
child, having already borne her husband a second daughter; and as
she was on her way she met Caesar, with his two friends Agrippa and
Maecenas, and, taking these two aside, with great entreaties and
lamentations she told them, that of the most fortunate woman upon
earth, she was in danger of becoming the most unhappy; for as yet
every one's eyes were fixed upon her as the wife and sister of the two
great commanders, but, if rash counsels should prevail, and war ensue,
"I shall be miserable," said she, "without redress; for on what side
soever victory falls, I shall be sure to be a loser." Caesar was
overcome by these entreaties, and advanced in a peaceable temper to
Tarentum, where those that were present beheld a most stately
spectacle; a vast army the up by the shore, and as great a fleet in
the harbour, all without the occurrence of friends, and other
expressions of joy and kindness, passing from one armament to the
other. Antony first entertained Caesar, this also being a concession
on Caesar's part to his sister; and when at length an agreement was
made between them, that Caesar should give Antony two of his legions
to serve him in the Parthian war, and that Antony should in return
leave with him a hundred armed galleys, Octavia further obtained of
her husband, besides this, twenty light ships for her brother, and
of her brother, a thousand foot for her husband. So, having parted
good friends, Caesar went immediately to make war with Pompey to
conquer Sicily. And Antony, leaving in Caesar's charge his wife and
children, and his children by his former wife Fulvia, set sail for
Asia.
  But the mischief that thus long had lain still, the passion for
Cleopatra, which better thoughts had seemed to have lulled and charmed
into oblivion, upon his approach to Syria gathered strength again, and
broke out into a flame. And, in fine, like Plato's restive and
rebellious horse of the human soul, flinging off all good and
wholesome counsel, and breaking fairly loose, he sends Fonteius Capito
to bring Cleopatra into Syria. To whom at her arrival he made no small
or trifling present, Phoenicia, Coele-Syria, Cyprus, great part of
Cilicia, that side of Judaea which produces balm, that part of
Arabia where the Nabathaeans extend to the outer sea; profuse gifts
which much displeased the Romans. For although he had invested several
private persons in great governments and kingdoms, and bereaved many
kings of theirs, as Antigonus of Judaea, whose head he caused to be
struck off (the first example of that punishment being inflicted on
a king), yet nothing stung the Romans like the shame of these
honours paid to Cleopatra. Their dissatisfaction was augmented also by
his acknowledging as his own the twin children he had by her, giving
them the name of Alexander and Cleopatra, and adding, as their
surnames, the titles of Sun and Moon. But he, who knew how to put a
good colour on the most dishonest action, would say that the greatness
of the Roman empire consisted more in giving than in taking
kingdoms, and that the way to carry noble blood through the world
was by begetting in every place a new line and series of kings; his
own ancestor had thus been born of Hercules; Hercules had not
limited his hopes of progeny to a single womb, nor feared any law like
Solon's or any audit of procreation, but had freely let nature take
her will in the foundation and first commencement of many families.
  After Phraates had killed his father Hyrodes, and taken possession
of his kingdom, many of the Parthians left their country; among the
rest Monaeses, a man of great distinction and authority, sought refuge
with Antony, who, looking on his case as similar to that of
Themistocles, and likening his own opulence and magnanimity to those
of the former Persian kings, gave him three cities, Larissa, Arethusa,
and Hierapolis, which was formerly called Bambyce. But when the King
of Parthia soon recalled him, giving him his word and honour for his
safety, Antony was not unwilling to give him leave to return, hoping
thereby to surprise Phraates, who would believe that peace would
continue; for he only made the demand of him that he should send
back the Roman ensigns which were taken when Crassus was slain, and
the prisoners that remained yet alive. This done, he sent Cleopatra to
Egypt, and marched through Arabia and Armenia; and, when his forces
came together, and were joined by those of his confederate kings (of
whom there were very many, and the most considerable, Artavasdes, King
of Armenia, who came at the head of six thousand horse and seven
thousand foot), he made a general muster. There appeared sixty
thousand Roman foot, ten thousand horse, Spaniards and Gauls, who
counted as Romans; and, of other nations, horse and foot thirty
thousand. And these great preparations, that put the Indians beyond
Bactria into alarm, and made all Asia shake, were all we are told
rendered useless to him because of Cleopatra. For, in order to pass
the winter with her, the war was pushed on before its due time; and
all he did was done without perfect consideration, as by a man who had
no power of control over his faculties, who, under the effect of
some drug or magic, was still looking back elsewhere, and whose object
was much more to hasten his return than to conquer his enemies.
  For, first of all, when he should have taken up his
winter-quarters in Armenia, to refresh his men, who were tired with
long marches, having come at least eight thousand furlongs, and then
having taken the advantage in the beginning of the spring to invade
Media, before the Parthians were out of winter-quarters, he had not
patience to expect his time, but marched into the province of
Atropatene, leaving Armenia on the left hand, and laid waste all
that country. Secondly, his haste was so great that he left behind the
engines absolutely required for any siege, which followed the camp
in three hundred wagons, and, among the rest, a ram eighty feet
long; none of which was it possible, if lost or damaged, to repair
or to make the like, as the provinces of the Upper Asia produce no
trees long or hard enough for such uses. Nevertheless, he left them
all behind, as a mere impediment to his speed, in the charge of a
detachment under the command of Statianus, the wagon officer. He
himself laid siege to Phraata, a principal city of the King of
Media, wherein were that king's wife and children. And when actual
need proved the greatness of his error, in leaving the siege-train
behind him, he had nothing for it but to come up and raise a mound
against the walls, with infinite labour and great loss of time.
Meantime Phraates, coming down with a large army, and hearing that the
wagons were left behind with the battering engines, sent a strong
party of horse, by which Statianus was surprised, he himself and ten
thousand of his men slain, the engines all broken in pieces, many
taken prisoners, and among the rest King Polemon.
  This great miscarriage in the opening of the campaign much
discouraged Antony's army, and Artavasdes, King of Armenia, deciding
that the Roman prospects were bad, withdrew with all his forces from
the camp, although he had been the chief promoter of the war. The
Parthians, encouraged by their success, came up to the Romans at the
siege, and gave them many affronts; upon which Antony, fearing that
the despondency and alarm of his soldiers would only grow worse if
he let them lie idle taking all the horse, ten legions, and three
praetorian cohorts of heavy infantry, resolved to go out and forage,
designing by this means to draw the enemy with more advantage to a
battle. To effect this, he marched a day's journey from his camp,
and finding the Parthians hovering about, in readiness to attack him
while he was in motion, he gave orders for the signal of battle to
be hung out in the encampment, but, at the same time, pulled down
the tents, as if he meant not to fight, but to lead his men home
again; and so he proceeded to lead them past the enemy, who were drawn
up in a half-moon, his orders being that the horse should charge as
soon as the legions were come up near enough to second them. The
Parthians, standing still while the Romans marched by them, were in
great admiration of their army, and of the exact discipline it
observed, rank after rank passing on at equal distances in perfect
order and silence, their pikes all ready in their hands. But when
the signal was given, and the horse turned short upon the Parthians,
and with loud cries charged them, they bravely received them, though
they were at once too near for bowshot; but the legions coming up with
loud shouts and rattling of their arms so frightened their horses
and indeed the men themselves, that they kept their ground no
longer. Antony pressed them hard, in great hopes that this victory
should put an end to the war; the foot had them in pursuit for fifty
furlongs, and the horse for thrice that distance, and yet, the
advantage summed up, they had but thirty prisoners, and there were but
fourscore slain. So that they were all filled with dejection and
discouragement, to consider that when they were victorious, their
advantages were so small, and that when they were beaten, they lost so
great a number of men as they had done when the carriages were taken.
  The next day, having put the baggage in order, they marched back
to the camp before Phraata, in the way meeting with some scattering
troops of the enemy, and, as they marched further, with greater
parties, at length with the body of the enemy's army, fresh and in
good order, who defied them to battle, and charged them on every side,
and it was not without great difficulty that they reached the camp.
There Antony, finding that his men had in a panic deserted the defence
of the mound, upon a sally of the Medes, resolved to proceed against
them by decimation, as it is called, which is done by dividing the
soldiers into tens, and, out of every ten, putting one to death, as it
happens by lot. The rest he gave orders should have, instead of wheat,
their rations of corn in barley.
  The war was now become grievous to both parties, and the prospect of
its continuance yet more fearful to Antony, in respect that he was
threatened with famine; for he could no longer forage without wounds
and slaughter. And Phraates, on the other side, was full of
apprehension that if the Romans were to persist in carrying on the
siege, the autumnal equinox being past and the air already closing
in for cold, he should be deserted by his soldiers, who would suffer
anything rather than wintering in open field. To prevent which, he had
recourse to the following deceit: he gave orders to those of his men
who had made most acquaintance among the Roman soldiers, not to pursue
too close when they met them foraging, but to suffer them to carry off
some provision; moreover, that they should praise their valour, and
declare that it was not without just reason that their king looked
upon the Romans as the bravest men in the world. This done, upon
further opportunity, they rode nearer in, and, drawing up their horses
by the men, began to revile for his obstinacy; that whereas Phraates
desired nothing more than peace, and an occasion to show how ready
he was to save the lives of so many brave soldiers, he, on the
contrary, gave no opening to any friendly offers, but sat awaiting the
arrival of the two fiercest and worst enemies, winter and famine, from
whom it would be hard for them to make their escape, even with all the
good-will of the Parthians to help them. Antony, having these
reports from many hands, began to indulge the hope; nevertheless, he
would not send any message to the Parthian till he had put the
question to these friendly talkers, whether what they said was said by
order of their king. Receiving answer that it was, together with new
encouragement to believe them, he sent some of his friends to demand
once more the standards and prisoners, lest if he should ask
nothing, he might be supposed to be too thankful to have leave to
retreat in quiet. The Parthian king made answer that, as for the
standards and prisoners, he need not trouble himself: but if he
thought fit to retreat, he might do it when he pleased, in peace and
safety. Some few days, therefore, being spent in collecting the
baggage he set out upon his march. On which occasion, though there was
no man of his time like him for addressing a multitude, or for
carrying soldiers with him by the force of words, out of shame and
sadness he could not find in his heart to speak himself but employed
Domitius Aenobarbus. And some of the soldiers resented it, as an
undervaluing of them; but the greater number saw the true cause, and
pitied it, and thought it rather a reason why they on their side
should treat their general with more respect and obedience than
ordinary.
  Antony had resolved to return by the same way he came, which was
through a level country clear of all trees; but a certain Mardian came
to him (one that was very conversant with the manners of the
Parthians, and whose fidelity to the Romans had been tried at the
battle where the machines were lost), and advised him to keep the
mountains close on his right hand, and not to expose his men,
heavily armed, in a broad, open, riding country, to the attacks of a
numerous army of light horse and archers; that Phraates with fair
promises had persuaded him from the siege on purpose that he might
with more ease cut him off in his retreat; but if so he pleased, he
would conduct him by a nearer route, on which moreover he should
find the necessaries for his army in greater abundance. Antony upon
this began to consider what was best to be done; he was unwilling to
seem to have any mistrust of the Parthians after their treaty; but,
holding it to be really best to march his army the shorter and more
inhabited way, he demanded of the Mardian some assurance of his faith,
who offered himself to be bound until the army came safe into Armenia.
Two days he conducted the army bound, and, on the third, when Antony
had given up all thought of the enemy, and was marching at his ease in
no very good order, the Mardian, perceiving the bank of the river
broken down, and the water let out and overflowing the road by which
they were to pass, saw at once that this was the handiwork of the
Parthians, done out of mischief, and to hinder their march: so he
advised Antony to be upon his guard, for that the enemy was nigh at
hand. And sooner had he begun to put his men in order, disposing the
slingers and dart-men in convenient intervals for sallying out, but
the Parthians came pouring in on all sides, fully expecting to
encompass them, and throw the whole army into disorder. They were at
once attacked by the light troops, whom they galled a good deal with
their arrows; but being themselves as warmly entertained with the
slings and darts, and many wounded, they made their retreat. Soon
after, rallying up afresh, they were beat back by a battalion of
Gallic horse, and appeared no more that day.
  By their manner of attack Antony, seeing what to do, not only placed
the slings and darts as a rear guard, but also lined both flanks
with them, and so marched in a square battle, giving order to the
horse to charge and beat off the enemy, but not to follow them far
as they retired. So that the Parthians, not doing more mischief for
the four ensuing days than they received, began to abate in their
zeal, and, complaining that the winter season was much advanced,
pressed for returning home.
  But, on the fifth day, Flavius Gallus, a brave and active officer,
who had a considerable command in the army, came to Antony, desiring
of him some light infantry out of the rear, and some horse out of
the front, with which he would undertake to do some considerable
service. Which when he had obtained, he beat the enemy back, not
withdrawing, as was usual, at the same time, and retreating upon the
mass of the heavy infantry, but maintaining his own ground, and
engaging boldly. The officers who commanded in the rear, perceiving
how far he was getting from the body of the army, sent to warn him
back, but he took no notice of them. It is said that Titius the
quaestor snatched the standards and turned them round, upbraiding
Gallus with thus leading so many brave men to destruction. But when he
on the other side reviled him again, and commanded the men that were
about him to stand firm, Titius made his retreat, and Gallus, charging
the enemies in the front, was encompassed by a party that fell upon
his rear, which at length perceiving, he sent a messenger to demand
succour. But the commanders of the heavy infantry, Canidius amongst
others, a particular favourite of Antony's, seem here to have
committed a great oversight. For, instead of facing about with the
whole body, they sent small parties, and, when they were defeated,
they still sent out small parties, so that by their bad management the
rout would have spread through the whole army, if Antony himself had
not marched from the van at the head of the third legion, and, passing
this through among the fugitives, faced the enemies, and hindered them
from any further pursuit.
  In this engagement were killed three thousand, five thousand were
carried back to the camp wounded, amongst the rest Gallus, shot
through the body with four arrows, of which wounds he died. Antony
went from tent to tent to visit and comfort the rest of them, and
was not able to see his men without tears and a passion of grief.
They, however, seized his hand with joyful faces, bidding him go and
see to himself and not be concerned about them, calling him their
emperor and their general, and saying that if he did well they were
safe. For, in short, never in all these times can history make mention
of a general at the head of a more splendid army; whether you consider
strength and youth, or patience and sufferance in labours and
fatigues; but as for the obedience and affectionate respect they
bore their general, and the unanimous feeling amongst small and
great alike, officers and common soldiers, to prefer his good
opinion of them to their very lives and being, in this part of
military excellence it was not possible that they could have been
surpassed by the very Romans of old. For this devotion, as I have said
before, there were many reasons, as the nobility of his family, his
eloquence, his frank and open manners, his liberal and magnificent
habits, his familiarity in talking with everybody, and, at this time
particularly, his kindness in visiting and pitying the sick, joining
in all their pains, and furnishing them with all things necessary,
so that the sick and wounded were even more eager to serve than
those that were whole and strong.
  Nevertheless, this last victory had so encouraged the enemy that,
instead of their former impatience and weariness, they began soon to
feel contempt for the Romans, staying all night near the camp, in
expectation of plundering their tents and baggage, which they
concluded they must abandon; and in the morning new forces arrived
in large masses, so that their number was grown to be not less, it
is said, than forty thousand horse; and the king had sent the very
guards that attended upon his own person, as to a sure and
unquestioned victory, for he himself was never present in any fight.
Antony, designing to harangue the soldiers, called for a mourning
habit that he might move them the more, but was dissuaded by his
friends; so he came forward in the general's scarlet cloak, and
addressed them, praising those that had gained the victory, and
reproaching those that had fled, the former answering him with
promises of success, and the latter excusing themselves, and telling
him they were ready to undergo decimation, or any other punishment
he should please to inflict upon them, only entreating that he would
forget and not discompose himself with their faults. At which he
lifted up his hands to heaven, and prayed the gods that, if to balance
the great favours he had received of them any judgment lay in store,
they would pour it upon his head alone, and grant his soldiers
victory.
  The next day they took better order for their march, and the
Parthians, who thought they were marching rather to plunder than to
fight, were much taken aback, when they came up and were received with
a shower of missiles, to find the enemy not disheartened, but fresh
and resolute. So that they themselves began to lose courage. But at
the descent of a bill where the Romans were obliged to pass, they
got together, and let fly their arrows upon them as they moved
slowly down. But the full-armed infantry, facing round, received the
light troops within; and those in the first rank knelt on one knee,
holding their shields before them, the next rank holding theirs over
the first, and so again others over these, much like the tiling of a
house, or the rows of seats in a theatre, the whole affording sure
defence against arrows, which glanced upon them without doing any
harm. The Parthians, seeing the Romans down upon their knees, could
not imagine but that it must proceed from weariness; so that they laid
down their bows, and, taking their spears, made a fierce onset, when
the Romans, with a great cry, leaped upon their feet, striking hand to
hand with their javelins, slew the foremost, and put the rest to
flight. After this rate it was every day, and the trouble they gave
made the marches short; in addition to which famine began to be felt
in the camp, for they could get but little corn, and that which they
got they were forced to fight for; and, besides this, they were in
want of implements to grind it and make bread. For they had left
almost all behind, the baggage horses being dead or otherwise employed
in carrying the sick and wounded. Provision was so scarce in the
army that an Attic quart of wheat sold for fifty drachmas, and
barley loaves for their weight in silver. And when they tried
vegetables and roots, they found such as are commonly eaten very
scarce, so that they were constrained to venture upon any they could
get, and, among others, they chanced upon an herb that was mortal,
first taking away all sense an understanding. He that had eaten of
it remembered nothing in the world, and employed himself only in
moving great stones from one place to another, which he did with as
much earnestness and industry as if it had been a business of the
greatest consequence. Through all the camp there was nothing to be
seen but men grubbing upon the ground at stones, which they carried
from place to place. But in the end they threw up bile and died, as
wine, moreover, which was the one antidote, failed. When Antony saw
them die so fast, and the Parthians still in pursuit, he was heard
to exclaim several times over, "O, the Ten Thousand!" as if in
admiration of the retreat of the Greeks, with Xenophon, who, when they
had a longer journey to make from Babylonia, and a more powerful enemy
to deal with, nevertheless came home safe.
  The Parthians, finding that they could not divide the Roman army,
nor break the order of their battle, and that withal they had been
so often worsted, once more began to treat the foragers with
professions of humanity; they came up to them with their bows
unbent, telling them that they were going home to their houses; that
this was the end of their retaliation, and that only some Median
troops would follow for two or three days, not with any design to
annoy them, but for the defence of some of the villages further on.
And, saying this, they saluted them and embraced them with a great
show of friendship. This made the Romans full of confidence again, and
Antony, on hearing of it, was more disposed to take the road through
the level country, being told that no water was to be hoped for on
that through the mountains. But while he was preparing thus to do,
Mithridates came into the camp, a cousin to Monaeses, of whom we
related that he sought refuge with the Romans, and received in gift
from Antony three cities. Upon his arrival, he desired somebody
might be brought to him that could speak Syriac or Parthian. One
Alexander, of Antioch, a friend of Antony's, was brought to him, to
whom the stranger, giving his name, and mentioning Monaeses as the
person who desired to do the kindness, put the question, did he see
that high range of hills pointing at some distance. He told him,
yes. "It is there," said he, "the whole Parthian army lie in wait
for your passage; for the great plains come immediately up to them,
and they expect that, confiding in their promises, you will leave
the way of the mountains, and take the level route. It is true that in
passing over the mountains you will suffer the want of water, and
the fatigue to which you have become familiar, but if you pass through
the plains, Antony must expect the fortune of Crassus."
  This said, he departed. Antony, in alarm calling his friends in
council, sent for the Mardian guide, who was of the same opinion. He
told them that, with or without enemies, the want of any certain track
in the plain, and the likelihood of their losing their way, were quite
objection enough; the other route was rough and without water, but
then it was but for a day. Antony, therefore, changing his mind,
marched away upon this road that night, commanding that every one
should carry water sufficient for his own use; but most of them
being unprovided with vessels, they made shift with their helmets, and
some with skins. As soon as they started, the news of it was carried
to the Parthians, who followed them, contrary to their custom, through
the night, and at sunrise attacked the rear, which was tired with
marching and want of sleep, and not in condition to make any
considerable defence. For they had got through two hundred and forty
furlongs a night, and at the end of such a march to find the enemy
at their heels put them out of heart. Besides, having to fight for
every step of the way increased their distress from thirst. Those that
were in the van came up to a river, the water of which was extremely
cool and clear, but brackish and medicinal, and, on being drunk,
produced immediate pains in the bowels and a renewed thirst. Of this
the Mardian had forewarned them, but they could not forbear, and,
beating back those that opposed them, they drank of it. Antony ran
from one place to another, begging they would have a little
patience, that not far off there was a river of wholesome water, and
that the rest of the way was so difficult for the horse that the enemy
could pursue them no further; and, saying this, he ordered to sound
a retreat to call those back that were engaged, and commanded the
tents should be set up, that the soldiers might at any rate refresh
themselves in the shade.
  But the tents were scarce well put up, and the Parthians
beginning, according to their custom, to withdraw, when Mithridates
came again to them, and informed Alexander, with whom he had before
spoken, that he would do well to advise Antony to stay where he was no
longer than needs he must, that, after having refreshed his troops, he
should endeavour with all diligence to gain the next river, that the
Parthians would not cross it, but so far they were resolved to
follow them. Alexander made his report to Antony, who ordered a
quantity of gold plate to be carried to Mithridates, who, taking as
much as he could well hide under his clothes, went his way. And,
upon this advice, Antony, while it was yet day, broke up his camp, and
the whole army marched forward without receiving any molestation
from the Parthians, though that night by their own doing was in effect
the most wretched and terrible that they passed. For some of the men
began to kill and plunder those whom they suspected to have any money,
ransacked the baggage, and seized the money there. In the end, they
laid hands on Antony's own equipage, and broke all his rich tables and
cups, dividing the fragments amongst them. Antony, hearing such a
noise and such a stirring to and fro all through the army, the
belief prevailing that the enemy had routed and cut off a portion of
the troops, called for one of his freedmen, then serving as one of his
guards, Rhamnus by name, and made him take an oath that whenever he
should give him orders, he would run his sword through his body and
cut off his head, that he might not fall alive into the hands of the
Parthians, nor, when dead, be recognized as the general. While he
was in this consternation, and all his friends about him in tears, the
Mardian came up and gave them all new life. He convinced them, by
the coolness and humidity of the air, which they could feel in
breathing it, that the river which he had spoken of was now not far
off, and the calculation of the time that had been required to reach
it came, he said, to the same result, for the night was almost
spent. And, at the same time, others came with information that all
the confusion in the camp proceeded only from their own violence and
robbery among themselves. To compose this tumult, and bring them again
into some order after their distraction, he commanded the signal to be
given for a halt.
  Day began to break, and quiet and regularity were just
reappearing, when the Parthian arrows began to fly among the rear, and
the light-armed troops were ordered out to battle. And, being seconded
by the heavy infantry, who covered one another as before described
with their shields, they bravely received the enemy, who did not think
convenient to advance any further, while the van of the army, marching
forward leisurely in this manner, came in sight of the river, and
Antony, drawing up the cavalry on the banks to confront the enemy,
first passed over the sick and wounded. And, by this time, even
those who were engaged with the enemy had opportunity to drink at
their ease; for the Parthians, on seeing the river, unbent their bows,
and told the Romans they might pass over freely, and made them great
compliments in praise of their valour. Having crossed without
molestation, they rested themselves awhile, and presently went
forward, not giving perfect credit to the fair words of their enemies.
Six days after this last battle, they arrived at the river Araxes,
which divides Media and Armenia, and seemed, both by its deepness
and the violence of the current, to be very dangerous to pass. A
report, also, had crept in amongst them, that the enemy was in ambush,
ready to set upon them as soon as they should be occupied with their
passage. But when they were got over on the other side, and found
themselves in Armenia, just as if land was now sighted after a storm
at sea, they kissed the ground for joy, shedding tears and embracing
each other in their delight. But taking their journey through a land
that abounded in all sorts of plenty, they ate, after their long want,
with that excess of everything they met with that they suffered from
dropsies and dysenteries.
  Here Antony, making a review of his army, found that he had lost
twenty thousand foot and four thousand horse, of which the better half
not by the enemy, but by diseases. Their march was of twenty-seven
days from Phraata, during which they had beaten the Parthians in
eighteen battles, though with little effect or lasting result, because
of their being so unable to pursue. By which it is manifest that it
was Artavasdes who lost Antony the benefit of the expedition. For
had the sixteen thousand horsemen whom he led away, out of Media,
armed in the same style as the Parthians, and accustomed to their
manner of fight, been there to follow the pursuit when the Romans
put them to flight, it is impossible they could have rallied so
often after their defeats, and reappeared again as they did to renew
their attacks. For this reason, the whole army was very earnest with
Antony to march into Armenia to take revenge. But he, with more
reflection, forbore to notice the desertion, and continued all his
former courtesies, feeling that the army was wearied out, and in
want of all manner of necessaries. Afterwards, however, entering
Armenia, with invitations and fair promises he prevailed upon
Artavasdes to meet him, when he seized him, bound him, and carried him
to Alexandria, and there led him in a triumph; one of the things which
most offended the Romans, who felt as if all the honours and solemn
observances of their country were, for Cleopatra's sake, handed over
to the Egyptians.
  This, however, was at an after time. For the present, marching his
army in great haste in the depth of winter through continual storms of
snow, he lost eight thousand of his men, and came with much diminished
numbers to a place called the White Village, between Sidon and
Berytus, on the sea-coast, where he waited for the arrival of
Cleopatra. And, being impatient of the delay she made, he bethought
himself of shortening the time wine and drunkenness, and yet could not
endure the tediousness of a meal, but would start from table and run
to see if she were coming. Till at last she came into port, and
brought with her clothes and money for the soldiers. Though some say
that Antony only received the clothes from her and distributed his own
money in her name.
  A quarrel presently happened between the King of Media and
Phraates of Parthia, beginning, it is said, about the division of
the booty that was taken from the Romans, and creating great
apprehension in the Median lest he should lose his kingdom. He sent,
therefore, ambassadors to Antony, with offers of entering into a
confederate war against Phraates. And Antony, full of hopes at being
thus asked, as a favour, to accept that one thing, horse and
archers, the want of which had hindered his beating the Parthians
before, began at once to prepare for a return to Armenia, there to
join the Medes on the Araxes, and begin the war afresh. But Octavia,
in Rome, being desirous to see Antony, asked Caesar's leave to go to
him; which he gave her, not so much, say most authors, to gratify
his sister, as to obtain a fair pretence to begin the war upon her
dishonourable reception. She no sooner arrived at Athens, but by
letters from Antony she was informed of his new expedition, and his
will that she should await him there. And, though she were much
displeased, not being ignorant of the real reason of this usage, yet
she wrote to him to know to what place he would be pleased she
should send the things she had brought with her for his use; for she
had brought clothes for his soldiers, baggage, cattle, money, and
presents for his friends and officers, and two thousand chosen
soldiers sumptuously armed, to form praetorian cohorts. This message
was brought from Octavia to Antony by Niger, one of his friends, who
added to it the praises she deserved so well. Cleopatra, feeling her
rival already, as it were, at hand, was seized with fear, lest if to
her noble life and her high alliance, she once could add the charm
of daily habit and affectionate intercourse, she should become
irresistible, and be his absolute mistress forever. So she feigned
to be dying for love of Antony, bringing her body down by slender
diet; when he entered the room, she fixed her eyes upon him in a
rapture, and when he left, seemed to languish and half faint away. She
took great pains that he should see her in tears, and, as soon as he
noticed it, hastily dried them up and turned away, as if it were her
wish that he should know nothing of it. All this was acting while he
prepared for Media; and Cleopatra's creatures were not slow to forward
the design, upbraiding Antony with his unfeeling, hard-hearted temper,
thus letting a woman perish whose soul depended upon him and him
alone. Octavia, it was true, was his wife, and had been married to him
because it was found convenient for the affairs of her brother that it
should be so, and she had the honour of the title; but Cleopatra,
the sovereign queen of many nations, had been contented with the
name of his mistress, nor did she shun or despise the character whilst
she might see him, might live with him, and enjoy him; if she were
bereaved of this, she would not survive the loss. In fine, they so
melted and unmanned him that, fully believing she would die if he
forsook her, he put off the war and returned to Alexandria,
deferring his Median expedition until next summer, though news came of
the Parthians being all in confusion with intestine disputes.
Nevertheless, he did some time after go into that country, and made an
alliance with the King of Media, by marriage of a son of his by
Cleopatra to the king's daughter, who was yet very young; and so
returned, with his thoughts taken up about the civil war.
  When Octavia returned from Athens, Caesar, who considered she had
been injuriously treated, commanded her to live in a separate house;
but she refused to leave the house of her husband, and entreated
him, unless he had already resolved, upon other motives, to make war
with Antony, that he would on her account let it alone; it would be
intolerable to have it said of the two greatest commanders in the
world that they had involved the Roman people in a civil war, the
one out of passion for, the other out of resentment about, a woman.
And her behaviour proved her words to be sincere. She remained in
Antony's house as if he were at home in it, and took the noblest and
most generous care, not only of his children by her, but of those by
Fulvia also. She received all the friends of Antony that came to
Rome to seek office or upon any business, and did her utmost to prefer
their requests to Caesar; yet this her honourable deportment did
but, without her meaning it, damage the reputation of Antony; the
wrong he did to such a woman made him hated. Nor was the division he
made among his sons at Alexandria less unpopular; it seemed a
theatrical piece of insolence and contempt of his country. For
assembling the people in the exercise ground, and causing two golden
thrones to be placed on a platform of silver, the one for him and
the other for Cleopatra, and at their feet lower thrones for their
children, he proclaimed Cleopatra Queen of Egypt, Cyprus, Libya, and
Coele-Syria, and with her conjointly Caesarion, the reputed son of the
former Caesar, who left Cleopatra with child. His own sons by
Cleopatra were to have the style of king of kings; to Alexander he
gave Armenia and Media, with Parthia, so soon as it should be
overcome; to Ptolemy, Phoenicia, Syria, and Cilicia. Alexander was
brought out before the people in Median costume, the tiara and upright
peak, and Ptolemy, in boots and mantle and Macedonian cap done about
with the diadem; for this was the habit of the successors of
Alexander, as the other was of the Medes and Armenians. And as soon as
they had saluted their parents, the one was received by a guard of
Macedonians, the other by one of Armenians. Cleopatra was then, as
at other times when she appeared in public, dressed in the habit of
the goddess Isis, and gave audience to the people under the name of
the New Isis.
  Caesar, relating these things in the senate, and often complaining
to the people, excited men's minds against Antony, and Antony also
sent messages of accusation against Caesar. The principal of his
charges were these: first, that he had not made any division with
him of Sicily, which was lately taken from Pompey; secondly, that he
had retained the ships he had lent him for the war; thirdly, that,
after deposing Lepidus, their colleague, he had taken for himself
the army, governments, and revenues formerly appropriated to him;
and lastly, that he had parcelled out almost all Italy amongst his own
soldiers, and left nothing for his. Caesar's answer was as follows:
that he had put Lepidus out of government because of his own
misconduct; that what he had got in war he would divide with Antony,
so soon as Antony gave him a share of Armenia; that Antony's
soldiers had no claims in Italy, being in possession of Media and
Parthia, the acquisitions which their brave actions under their
general had added to the Roman empire.
  Antony was in Armenia when this answer came to him, and
immediately sent Canidius with sixteen legions towards the sea; but
he, in the company of Cleopatra, went to Ephesus, whither ships were
coming in from all quarters to form the navy, consisting, vessels of
burden included, of eight hundred vessels, of which Cleopatra
furnished two hundred, together with twenty thousand talents, and
provision for the whole army during the war. Antony, on the advice
of Domitius and some others, bade Cleopatra return into Egypt, there
to expect the event of the war; but she, dreading some new
reconciliation by Octavia's means, prevailed with Canidius, by a large
sum of money, to speak in her favour with Antony, pointing out to
him that it was not just that one that bore so great a part in the
charge of the war should be robbed of her share of glory in the
carrying it on; nor would it be politic to disoblige the Egyptians,
who were so considerable a part of his naval forces; nor did he see
how she was inferior in prudence to any of the kings that were serving
with him; she had long governed a great kingdom by herself alone,
and long lived with him, and gained experience in public affairs.
These arguments (so the fate that destined all to Caesar would have
it) prevailed; and when all their forces had met, they sailed together
to Samos, and held high festivities. For, as it was ordered that all
kings, princes, and governors, all nations and cities within the
limits of Syria, the Maeotid Lake, Armenia, and Illyria, should
bring or cause to be brought all munitions necessary for war, so was
it also proclaimed that all stage-players should make their appearance
at Samos; so that, while pretty nearly the whole world was filled with
groans and lamentations, this one island for some days resounded
with piping and harping, theatres filling, and choruses playing. Every
city sent an ox as its contribution to the sacrifice, and the kings
that accompanied Antony competed who should make the most
magnificent feasts and the greatest presents; and men began to ask
themselves, what would be done to celebrate the victory, when they
went to such an expense of festivity at the opening of the war.
  This over, he gave Priene to his players for a habitation, and set
sail for Athens, where fresh sports and play-acting employed him.
Cleopatra, jealous of the honours Octavia had received at Athens
(for Octavia was much beloved by the Athenians), courted the favour of
the people with all sorts of attentions. The Athenians, in requital,
having decreed her public honours, deputed several of the citizens
to wait upon her at her house; amongst whom went Antony as one, he
being an Athenian citizen, and he it was that made the speech. He sent
orders to Rome to have Octavia removed out of his house. She left
it, we are told, accompanied by all his children, except the eldest by
Fulvia, who was then with his father, weeping and grieving that she
must be looked upon as one of the causes of the war. But the Romans
pitied, not so much her, as Antony himself, and more particularly
those who had seen Cleopatra, whom they could report to have no way
the advantage of Octavia either in youth or in beauty.
  The speed and extent of Antony's preparations alarmed Caesar, who
feared he might be forced to fight the decisive battle that summer.
For he wanted many necessaries, and the people grudged very much to
pay the taxes; freemen being called upon to pay a fourth part of their
incomes, and freed slaves an eighth of their property, so that there
were loud outcries against him, and disturbances throughout all Italy.
And this is looked upon as one of the greatest of Antony's oversights,
that he did not then press the war. For he allowed time at once for
Caesar to make his preparations and for the commotions to pass over.
For while people were having their money called for, they were
mutinous and violent; but, having paid it, they held their peace.
Titius and Plancus, men of consular dignity and friends to Antony,
having been ill-used by Cleopatra, whom they had most resisted in
her design of being present in the war, came over to Caesar and gave
information of the contents of Antony's will, with which they were
acquainted. It was deposited in the hands of the vestal virgins, who
refused to deliver it up, and sent Caesar word, if he pleased, he
should come and seize it himself, which he did. And, reading it over
to himself, he noted those places that were most for his purpose, and,
having summoned the senate, read them publicly. Many were
scandalized at the proceeding, thinking it out of reason and equity to
call a man to account for what was not to be until after his death.
Caesar specially pressed what Antony said in his will about his
burial; for he had ordered that even if he died in the city of Rome,
his body, after being carried in state through the forum, should be
sent to Cleopatra at Alexandria. Calvisius, a dependant of Caesar's,
urged other charges in connection with Cleopatra against Antony;
that he had given her the library of Pergamus, containing two
hundred thousand distinct volumes; that at a great banquet, in the
presence of many guests, he had risen up and rubbed her feet, to
fulfil some wager or promise; that he had suffered the Ephesians to
salute her as their queen; that he had frequently at the public
audience of kings and princes received amorous messages written in
tablets made of onyx and crystal, and read them openly on the
tribunal; that when Furnius, a man of great authority and eloquence
among the Romans, was pleading, Cleopatra happening to pass by in
her chair, Antony started up and left them in the middle of their
cause, to follow at her side and attend her home.
  Calvisius, however, was looked upon as the inventor of most of these
stories. Antony's friends went up and down the city to gain him
credit, and sent one of themselves, Geminius, to him, to beg him to
take heed and not allow himself to be deprived by vote of his
authority, and proclaimed a public enemy to the Roman state. But
Geminius no sooner arrived in Greece but he was looked upon as one
of Octavia's spies; at their suppers he was made a continual butt
for mockery, and was put to sit in the least honourable places; all of
which he bore very well, seeking only an occasion of speaking with
Antony. So at supper, being told to say what business he came about,
he answered he would keep the rest for a soberer hour, but one thing
he had to say, whether full or fasting, that all would go well if
Cleopatra would return to Egypt. And on Antony showing his anger at
it, "You have done well, Geminius," said Cleopatra, "to tell your
secret without being put to the rack." So Geminius, after a few
days, took occasion to make his escape and go to Rome. Many more of
Antony's friends were driven from him by the insolent usage they had
from Cleopatra's flatterers, amongst whom were Marcus Silanus and
Dellius the historian. And Dellius says he was afraid of his life, and
that Glaucus, the physician, informed him of Cleopatra's design
against him. She was angry with him for having said that Antony's
friends were served with sour wine, while at Rome Sarmentus,
Caesar's little page (his delicia, as the Romans call it), drank
Falernian.
  As soon as Caesar had completed his preparations, he had a decree
made declaring war on Cleopatra, and depriving Antony of the authority
which he had let a woman exercise in his place. Caesar added that he
had drunk potions that had bereaved him of his senses, and that the
generals they would have to fight with would be Mardion the eunuch,
Pothinus, Iras, Cleopatra's hairdressing girl, and Charmion, who
were Antony's chief state-councillors.
  These prodigies are said to have announced the war. Pisaurum,
where Antony had settled a colony, on the Adriatic sea, was
swallowed up by an earthquake; sweat ran from one of the marble
statues of Antony at Alba for many days together, and though
frequently wiped off, did not stop. When he himself was in the city of
Patrae, the temple of Hercules was struck by lightning, and, at
Athens, the figure of Bacchus was torn by a violent wind out of the
Battle of the Giants, and laid flat upon the theatre; with both
which deities Antony claimed connection, professing to be descended
from Hercules, and from his imitating Bacchus in his way of living
having received the name of young Bacchus. The same whirlwind at
Athens also brought down, from amongst many others which were not
disturbed, the colossal statues of Fumenes and Attalus, which were
inscribed with Antony's name. And in Cleopatra's admiral-galley, which
was called the Antonias, a most inauspicious omen occurred. Some
swallows had built in the stern of the galley, but other swallows
came, beat the first away, and destroyed their nests.
  When the armaments gathered for the war, Antony had no less than
five hundred ships of war, including numerous galleys of eight and ten
banks of oars, as richly ornamented as if they were meant for a
triumph. He had a hundred thousand foot and twelve thousand horse.
He had vassal kings attending, Bocchus of Libya, Tarcondemus of the
Upper Cilicia, Archelaus of Cappadocia, Philadelphus of Paphlagonia,
Mithridates of Commagene, and Sadalas of Thrace; all these were with
him in person. Out of Pontus Polemon sent him considerable forces,
as did also Malchus from Arabia, Herod the Jew, and Amyntas, King of
Lycaonia and Galatia; also the Median king sent some troops to join
him. Caesar had two hundred and fifty galleys of war, eighty
thousand foot, and horse about equal to the enemy. Antony's empire
extended from Euphrates and Armenia to the Ionian sea and the
Illyrians; Caesar's, from Illyria to the westward ocean, and from
the ocean all along the Tuscan and Sicilian sea. Of Africa, Caesar had
all the coast opposite to Italy, Gaul, and Spain, as far as the
Pillars of Hercules, and Antony the provinces from Cyrene to
Aethiopia.
  But so wholly was he now the mere appendage to the person of
Cleopatra that, although he was much superior to the enemy in
land-forces, yet, out of complaisance to his mistress, he wished the
victory to be gained by sea, and that, too, when he could not but
see how, for want of sailors, his captains, all through unhappy
Greece, were pressing every description of men, common travellers
and ass-drivers, harvest labourers and boys, and for all this the
vessels had not their complements, but remained. most of them,
ill-manned and badly rowed. Caesar, on the other side, had ships
that were built not for size or show, but for service, not pompous
galleys, but light, swift, and perfectly manned; and from his
headquarters at Tarentum and Brundusium he sent messages to Antony not
to protract the war, but come out with his forces; he would give him
secure roadsteads and ports for his fleet, and, for his land army to
disembark and pitch their camp, he would leave him as much ground in
Italy, inland from the sea, as a horse could traverse in a single
course. Antony, on the other side, with the like bold language,
challenged him to a single combat, though he were much the older; and,
that being refused, proposed to meet him in the Pharsalian fields,
where Caesar and Pompey had fought before. But whilst Antony lay
with his fleet near Actium, where now stands Nicopolis, Caesar
seized his opportunity and crossed the Ionian sea, securing himself at
a place in Epirus called the Ladle. And when those about Antony were
much disturbed, their land-forces being a good way off, "Indeed," said
Cleopatra, in mockery, "we may well be frightened if Caesar has got
hold of the Ladle!"
  On the morrow, Antony, seeing the enemy sailing up, and fearing lest
his ships might be taken for want of the soldiers to go on board of
them, armed all the rowers, and made a show upon the decks of being in
readiness to fight; the oars were mounted as if waiting to be put in
motion, and the vessels themselves drawn up to face the enemy on
either side of the channel of Actium, as though they were properly
manned and ready for an engagement. And Caesar, deceived by this
stratagem, retired. He was also thought to have shown considerable
skill in cutting off the water from the enemy by some lines of
trenches and forts, water not being plentiful anywhere else, nor
very good. And again, his conduct to Domitius was generous, much
against the will of Cleopatra. For when he had made his escape in a
little boat to Caesar, having then a fever upon him, although Antony
could not but resent it highly, yet he sent after him his whole
equipage with his friends and servants; and Domitius, as if he would
give a testimony to the world how repentant he had become on his
desertion and treachery being thus manifest, died soon after. Among
the kings, also, Amyntas and Deiotarus went over to Caesar. And the
fleet was so unfortunate in everything that was undertaken, and so
unready on every occasion, that Antony was driven again to put his
confidence in the land-forces. Canidius, too, who commanded the
legions, when he saw how things stood, changed his opinion, and now
was of advice that Cleopatra should be sent back, and that, retiring
into Thrace or Macedonia, the quarrel should be decided in a land
fight. For Dicomes, also, the King of the Getae, promised to come
and join him with a great army, and it would not be any kind of
disparagement to him to yield the sea to Caesar, who, in the
Sicilian wars, had had such long practice in ship-fighting; on the
contrary, it would be simply ridiculous for Antony, who was by land
the most experienced commander living, to make no use of his
well-disciplined and numerous infantry, scattering and wasting his
forces by parcelling them out in the ships. But for all this,
Cleopatra prevailed that a sea-fight should determine all, having
already an eye to flight, and ordering all her affairs, not so as to
assist in gaining a victory, but to escape with the greatest safety
from the first commencement of a defeat.
  There were two long walls, extending from the camp to the station of
the ships, between which Antony used to pass to and fro without
suspecting any danger. But Caesar, upon the suggestion of a servant
that it would not be difficult to surprise him, laid an ambush, which,
rising up somewhat too hastily, seized the man that came just before
him, he himself escaping narrowly by flight.
  When it was resolved to stand to a fight at sea, they set fire to
all the Egyptian ships except sixty; and of these the best and
largest, from ten banks down to three, he manned with twenty
thousand full-armed men and two thousand archers. Here it is related
that a foot captain, one that had fought often under Antony, and had
his body all mangled with wounds, exclaimed, "O my general, what
have our wounds and swords done to displease you, that you should give
your confidence to rotten timbers? Let Egyptians and Phoenicians
contend at sea, give us the land, where we know well how to die upon
the spot or gain the victory." To which he answered nothing, but, by
his look and motion of his hand seeming to bid him be of good courage,
passed forwards, having already, it would seem, no very sure hopes,
since when the masters proposed leaving the sails behind them, he
commanded they should be put aboard, "For we must not," said he,
"let one enemy escape."
  That day and the three following the sea was so rough they could not
engage. But on the fifth there was a calm, and they fought; Antony
commanding with Publicola the right, and Coelius the left squadron,
Marcus Octavius and Marcus Insteius the centre. Caesar gave the charge
of the left to Agrippa, commanding in person on the right. As for
the land-forces, Canidius was general for Antony, Taurus for Caesar;
both armies remaining drawn up in order along the shore. Antony in a
small boat went from one ship to another, encouraging his soldiers,
and bidding them stand firm and fight as steadily on their large ships
as if they were on land. The masters he ordered that they should
receive the enemy lying still as if they were at anchor, and
maintain the entrance of the port, which was a narrow and difficult
passage. Of Caesar they relate that, leaving his tent and going round,
while it was yet dark, to visit the ships, he met a man driving an
ass, and asked him his name. He answered him that his own name was
"Fortunate, and my ass," says he, "is called Conqueror." And
afterwards, when he disposed the beaks of the ships in that place in
token of his victory, the statue of this man and his ass in bronze
were placed amongst them. After examining the rest of his fleet, he
went in a boat to the right wing, and looked with much admiration at
the enemy lying perfectly still in the straits, in all appearance as
if they had been at anchor. For some considerable length of time he
actually thought they were so, and kept his own ships at rest, at a
distance of about eight furlongs from them. But about noon a breeze
sprang up from the sea, and Antony's men, weary of expecting the enemy
so long, and trusting to their large tall vessels, as if they had been
invincible, began to advance the left squadron. Caesar was overjoyed
to see them move, and ordered his own right squadron to retire, that
he might entice them out to sea as far as he could, his design being
to sail round and round, and so with his light and well-manned galleys
to attack these huge vessels, which their size and their want of men
made slow to move and difficult to manage.
  When they engaged, there was no charging or striking of one ship
by another, because Antony's, by reason of their great bulk, were
incapable of the rapidity required to make the stroke effectual, and
on the other side, Caesar's durst not charge head to head on Antony's,
which were all armed with solid masses and spikes of brass; nor did
they like even to run in on their sides, which were so strongly
built with great squared pieces of timber, fastened together with iron
bolts, that their vessels' beaks would easily have been shattered upon
them. So that the engagement resembled a land fight, or, to speak
yet more properly, the attack and defence of a fortified place; for
there were always three or four vessels of Caesar's about one of
Antony's, pressing them with spears, javelins, poles, and several
inventions of fire, which they flung among them, Antony's men using
catapults also, to pour down missiles from wooden towers. Agrippa
drawing out the squadron under his command to outflank the enemy,
Publicola was obliged to observe his motions, and gradually to break
off from the middle squadron, where some confusion and alarm ensued,
while Arruntius engaged them. But the fortune of the day was still
undecided, and the battle equal, when on a sudden Cleopatra's sixty
ships were seen hoisting sail and making out to sea in full flight,
right through the ships that were engaged. For they were placed behind
the great ships, which, in breaking through, they put into disorder.
The enemy was astonished to see them sailing off with a fair wind
towards Peloponnesus. Here it was that Antony showed to all the
world that he was no longer actuated by the thoughts and motives of
a commander or a man, or indeed by his own judgment at all, and what
was once said as a jest, that the soul of a lover lives in some one
else's body, he proved to be a serious truth. For, as if he had been
born part of her, and must move with her wheresoever she went, as soon
as he saw her ship sailing away, he abandoned all that were fighting
and spending their lives for him, and put himself aboard a galley of
five banks of oars, taking with him only Alexander of Syria and
Scellias, to follow her that had so well begun his ruin and would
hereafter accomplish it.
  She, perceiving him to follow, gave the signal to come aboard. So,
as soon as he came up with them, he was taken into the ship. But
without seeing her or letting himself be seen by her, he went
forward by himself, and sat alone, without a word, in the ship's prow,
covering his face with his two hands. In the meanwhile, some of
Caesar's light Liburnian ships, that were in pursuit, came in sight.
But on Antony's commanding to face about, they all gave back except
Eurycles the Laconian, who pressed on, shaking a lance from the
deck, as if he meant to hurl it at him. Antony, standing at the
prow, demanded of him, "Who is this that pursues Antony?" "I am." said
he, "Eurycles, the son of Lachares armed with Caesar's fortune to
revenge my father's death." Lachares had been condemned for a robbery,
and beheaded by Antony's orders. However, Eurycles did not attack
Antony, but ran with his full force upon the other admiral-galley (for
there were two of them), and with the blow turned her round, and
took both her and another ship, in which was a quantity of rich
plate and furniture. So soon as Eurycles was gone, Antony returned
to his posture and sate silent, and thus he remained for three days,
either in anger with Cleopatra, or wishing not to upbraid her, at
the end of which they touched at Taenarus. Here the women of their
company succeeded first in bringing them to speak, and afterwards to
eat and sleep together. And, by this time, several of the ships of
burden and some of his friends began to come in to him from the
rout, bringing news of his fleet's being quite destroyed, but that the
land-forces, they thought, still stood firm. So that he sent
messengers to Canidius to march the army with all speed through
Macedonion into Asia. And, designing himself to go from Taenarus
into Africa, he gave one of the merchant ships, laden with a large sum
of money, and vessels of silver and gold of great value, belonging
to the royal collections, to his friends, desiring them to share it
amongst them, and provide for their own safety. They refusing his
kindness with tears in their eyes, he comforted them with all the
goodness and humanity imaginable, entreating them to leave him, and
wrote letters in their behalf to Theophilus, his steward, at
Corinth, that he would provide for their security, and keep them
concealed till such time as they could make their peace with Caesar.
This Theophilus was the father of Hipparchus, who had such interest
with Antony, who was the first of all his freedmen that went over to
Caesar, and who settled afterwards at Corinth. In this posture were
affairs with Antony.
  But at Actium, his fleet, after a long resistance to Caesar, and
suffering the most damage from a heavy sea that set in right ahead,
scarcely at four in the afternoon, gave up the contest, with the
loss of not more than five thousand killed, but of three hundred ships
taken, as Caesar himself has recorded. Only a few had known of
Antony's flight; and those who were told of it could not at first give
any belief to so incredible a thing as that a general who had nineteen
entire legions and twelve thousand horse upon the seashore, could
abandon all and fly away; and he, above all, who had so often
experienced both good and evil fortune, and had in a thousand wars and
battles been inured to changes. His soldiers, however, would not
give up their desires and expectations, still fancying he would appear
from some part or other, and showed such a generous fidelity to his
service that, when they were thoroughly assured that he was fled in
earnest, they kept themselves in a body seven days, making no
account of the messages that Caesar sent to them. But at last,
seeing that Canidius himself, who commanded them, was fled from the
camp by night, and that all their officers had quite abandoned them,
they gave way, and made their submission to the conqueror. After this,
Caesar set sail for Athens, where he made a settlement with Greece,
and distributed what remained of provision of corn that Antony had
made for his army among the cities, which were in a miserable
condition, despoiled of their money, their slaves, their horses, and
beasts of service. My great-grandfather Nicharchus used to relate that
the whole body of the people of our city were put in requisition to
carry each one a certain measure of corn upon their shoulders to the
seaside near Anticyra, men standing by had made them with the lash.
They had made one journey of the kind, but when they had just measured
out the corn, and were putting it on their backs for a second, news
came of Antony's defeat, and so saved Chaeronea, for all Antony's
purveyors and soldiers fled upon the news, and left them to divide the
corn among themselves.
  When Antony came into Africa, he sent on Cleopatra from
Paraetonium into Egypt, and stayed himself in the most entire solitude
that he could desire, roaming and wandering about with only two
friends, one a Greek, Aristocrates, a rhetorician, and the other a
Roman, Lucilius, of whom we have elsewhere spoken, how, at Philippi,
to give Brutus time to escape, he suffered himself to be taken by
the pursuers, pretending he was Brutus, Antony gave him his life,
and on this account he remained true and faithful to him to the last.
  But when also the officer who commanded for him in Africa, to
whose care he had committed all his forces there, took them over to
Caesar, he resolved to kill himself, but was hindered by his
friends. And coming to Alexandria, he found Cleopatra busied in a most
bold and wonderful enterprise. Over the small space of land which
divides the Red Sea from the sea near Egypt, which may be considered
also the boundary between Asia and Africa, and in the narrowest
place is not much above three hundred furlongs across, over this
neck of land Cleopatra had formed a project of dragging her fleet
and setting it afloat in the Arabian Gulf, thus with her soldiers
and her treasure to secure herself a home on the other side, where she
might live in peace far away from war and slavery. But the first
galleys which were carried over being burnt by the Arabians of
Petra, and Antony not knowing but that the army before Actium still
held together, she desisted from her enterprise, and gave orders for
the fortifying all the approaches to Egypt. But Antony, leaving the
city and the conversation of his friends, built him a dwelling-place
in the water, near Pharos, upon a little mole which he cast up in
the sea, and there, secluding himself from the company of mankind,
said he desired nothing but to live the life of Timon; as indeed,
his case was the same, and the ingratitude and injuries which he
suffered from those he had esteemed his friends made him hate and
distrust all mankind.
  This Timon was a citizen of Athens, and lived much about the
Peloponnesian war, as may be seen by the comedies of Aristophanes
and Plato, in which he is ridiculed as hater and enemy of mankind.
He avoided and repelled the approaches of every one, but embraced with
kisses and the greatest show of affection Alcibiades, then in his
hot youth. And when Apemantus was astonished, and demanded the reason,
he replied that he knew this young man would one day do infinite
mischief to the Athenians. He never admitted any one into his company,
except at times this Apemantus, who was of the same sort of temper,
and was an imitator of his way of life. At the celebration of the
festival of flagons, these two kept the feast together, and Apemantus,
saying to him, "What a pleasant party, Timon!" "It would be," he
answered, "if you were away." One day he got up in a full assembly
on the speaker's place, and when there was a dead silence and great
wonder at so unusual a sight, he said, "Ye men of Athens, I have a
little plot of ground, and in it grows a fig-tree, on which many
citizens have been pleased to hang themselves; and now, having
resolved to build in that place, I wish to announce it publicly,
that any of you who may be desirous may go and hang yourselves
before I cut it down." He died and was buried at Halae, near the
sea, where it so happened that, after his burial, a land-slip took
place on the point of the shore, and the sea, flowing in, surrounded
his tomb, and made it inaccessible to the foot of man. It bore this
inscription:-

         "Here am I laid, my life of misery done.
          Ask not my name, I curse you every one."

And this epitaph was made by himself while yet alive; that which is
more generally known is by Callimachus:-

         "Timon, the misanthrope, am I below.
          Go, and revile me, traveller, only go."

  Thus much of Timon, of whom much more might be said. Canidius now
came, bringing word in person of the loss of the army before Actium.
Then he received news that Herod of Judaea was gone over to Caesar
with some legions and cohorts, and that the other kings and princes
were in like manner deserting him, and that, out of Egypt, nothing
stood by him. All this, however, seemed not to disturb him, but, as if
he were glad to put away all hope, that with it he might be rid of all
care, and leaving his habitation by the sea, which he called the
Timoneum, he was received by Cleopatra in the palace, and set the
whole city into a course of feasting, drinking, and presents. The
son of Caesar and Cleopatra was registered among the youths, and
Antyllus, his own son by Fulvia, received the gown without the
purple border given to those that are come of age; in honour of
which the citizens of Alexandria did nothing but feast and revel for
many days. They themselves broke up the Order of the Inimitable
Livers, and constituted another in its place, not inferior in
splendour, luxury, and sumptuosity, calling it that of the Diers
Together. For all those that said they would die with Antony and
Cleopatra gave in their names, for the present passing their time in
all manner of pleasures and a regular succession of banquets. But
Cleopatra was busied in making a collection of all varieties of
poisonous drugs, and, in order to see which of them were the least
painful in the operation, she had them tried upon prisoners
condemned to die. But, finding that the quick poisons always worked
with sharp pains, and that the less painful were slow. She next
tried venomous animals, and watching with her own eyes whilst they
were applied, one creature to the body of another. This was her
daily practice, and she pretty well satisfied herself that nothing was
comparable to the bite of the asp, which, without convulsion or
groaning, brought on a heavy drowsiness and lethargy, with a gentle
sweat on the face, the senses being stupefied by degrees; the patient,
in appearance, being sensible of no pain but rather troubled to be
disturbed or awakened like those that are in a profound natural sleep.
  At the same time, they sent ambassadors to Caesar into Asia,
Cleopatra asking for the kingdom of Egypt for her children, and
Antony, that he might have leave to live as a private man in Egypt,
or, if that were thought too much, that be might retire to Athens.
In lack of friends, so many having deserted, and others not being
trusted, Euphronius, his son's tutor, was sent on this embassy. For
Alexas of Laodicea, who, by the recommendation of Timagenes, became
acquainted with Antony at Rome, and had been more powerful with him
than any Greek, and was, of all the instruments which Cleopatra made
use of to persuade Antony, the most violent, and the chief subverter
of any good thoughts that from time to time might rise in his mind
in Octavia's favour, had been sent before to dissuade Herod from
desertion; but betraying his master, stayed with him and, confiding in
Herod's interest, had the boldness to come into Caesar's presence.
Herod, however, was not able to help him, for he was immediately put
in chains and sent into his own country, where, by Caesar's orders, he
was put to death. This reward of his treason Alexas received while
Antony was yet alive.
  Caesar would not listen to any proposals for Antony, but he made
answer to Cleopatra, that there was no reasonable favour which she
might not expect, if she put Antony to death, or expelled him from
Egypt. He sent back with the ambassadors his own freedman, Thyrsus,
a man of understanding, and not at all ill-qualified for conveying the
messages of a youthful general to a woman so proud of her charms and
possessed with the opinion of the power of her beauty. But by the long
audiences he received from her, and the special honours which she paid
him, Antony's jealousy began to be awakened; he had him seized,
whipped, and sent back; writing Caesar word that the man's busy,
impertinent ways had provoked him; in his circumstances he could not
be expected to be very patient: "But if it offends you," he added,
"you have got my freedman, Hipparchus, with you; hang him up and
scourge him to make us even." But Cleopatra, after this, to clear
herself, and to allay his jealousies, paid him all the attentions
imaginable. When her own birthday came, she kept it as was suitable to
their fallen fortunes; but his was observed with the utmost
prodigality of splendour and magnificence, so that many of the
guests sat down in want, and went home wealthy men. Meantime,
continual letters came to Caesar from Agrippa, telling him his
presence was extremely required at Rome.
  And so the war was deferred for a season. But, the winter being
over, he began his march, he himself by Syria, and his captains
through Africa. Pelusium being taken, there went a report as if it had
been delivered up to Caesar by Seleucus, not without the consent of
Cleopatra; but she, to justify herself, gave up into Antony's hands
the wife and children of Seleucus to be put to death. She had caused
to be built, joining to the temple of Isis, several tombs and
monuments of wonderful height, and very remarkable for the
workmanship; thither she removed her treasure, her gold, silver,
emeralds, pearls, ebony, ivory, cinnamon, and, after all, a great
quantity of torchwood and tow. Upon which Caesar began to fear lest
she should, in a desperate fit, set all these riches on fire; and,
therefore, while he was marching toward the city with his army, he
omitted no occasion of giving her new assurances of his good
intentions. He took up his position in the Hippodrome, where Antony
made a fierce sally upon him, routed the horse, and beat them back
into their trenches, and so returned with great satisfaction to the
palace, where, meeting Cleopatra, armed as he was, he kissed her,
and commended to her favour one of his men, who had most signalized
himself in the fight, to whom she made a present of a breastplate
and helmet of gold; which he having received went that very night
and deserted to Caesar.
  After this, Antony sent a new challenge to Caesar to fight him
hand-to-hand; who made him answer that he might find several other
ways to end his life; and he, considering with himself that he could
not die more honourably than in battle, resolved to make an effort
both by land and sea. At supper, it is said, he bade his servants help
him freely, and pour him out wine plentifully, since to-morrow,
perhaps, they should not do the same, but be servants to a new master,
whilst he should lie on the ground, a dead corpse, and nothing. His
friends that were about him wept to hear him talk so; which he
perceiving, told them he would not lead them to a battle in which he
expected rather an honourable death than either safety or victory.
That night, it is related, about the middle of it, when the whole city
was in a deep silence and general sadness, expecting the event of
the next day, on a sudden was heard the sound of all sorts of
instruments, and voices singing in tune, and the cry of a crowd of
people shouting and dancing, like a troop of bacchanals on its way.
This tumultuous procession seemed to take its course right through the
middle of the city to the gate nearest the enemy; here it became the
loudest, and suddenly passed out. People who reflected considered this
to signify that Bacchus, the god whom Antony had always made it his
study to copy and imitate, had now forsaken him.
  As soon as it was light, he marched his infantry out of the city,
and posted them upon a rising ground, from whence he saw his fleet
make up to the enemy. There he stood in expectation of the event;
but as soon as the fleets came near to one another, his men saluted
Caesar's with their oars; and on their responding, the whole body of
the ships, forming into a single fleet, rowed up direct to the city.
Antony had no sooner seen this, but the horse deserted him, and went
over to Caesar; and his foot being defeated, he retired into the city,
crying out that Cleopatra had betrayed him to the enemies he had
made for her sake. She, being afraid lest in his fury and despair he
might do her a mischief, fled to her monument, and letting down the
falling doors, which were strong with bars and bolts, she sent
messengers who should tell Antony she was dead. He, believing it,
cried out, "Now, Antony, why delay longer? Fate has snatched away
the only pretext for which you could say you desired yet to live."
Going into his chamber, and there loosening and opening his coat of "I
am not," said he, "troubled, Cleopatra, to be at present bereaved of
you, for I shall soon be with you; but it distresses me that so
great a general should be found of a tardier courage than a woman." He
had a faithful servant, whose name was Eros; he had engaged him
formerly to kill him when he should think it necessary, and now he put
him to his promise. Eros drew his sword, as designing to kill him,
but, suddenly turning round, he slew himself. And as he fell dead at
his feet, "It is well done, Eros," said Antony; "you show your
master how to do what you had not the heart to do yourself;" and so he
ran himself into the belly, and laid himself upon the couch. The
wound, however, was not immediately mortal; and the flow of blood
ceasing when he lay down, presently he came to himself, and
entreated those that were about him to put him out of his pain; but
they all fled out of the chamber, and left him crying out and
struggling, until Diomede, Cleopatra's secretary, came to him,
having orders from her to bring him into the monument.
  When he understood she was alive, he eagerly gave order to the
servants to take him up, and in their arms was carried to the door
of the building. Cleopatra would not open the door, but, looking
from a sort of window, she let down ropes and cords, to which Antony
was fastened; and she and her two women, the only persons she had
allowed to enter the monument, drew him up. Those that were present
say that nothing was ever more sad than this spectacle, to see Antony,
covered all over with blood and just expiring, thus drawn up, still
holding up his hands to her, and lifting up his body with the little
force he had left. As, indeed, it was no easy task for the women;
and Cleopatra, with all her force, clinging to the rope, and straining
with her head to the ground, with difficulty pulled him up while those
below encouraged her with their cries, and joined in all her efforts
and anxiety. When she had got him up, she laid him on the bed, tearing
all her clothes, which she spread upon him; and, beating her breast
with her hands, lacerating herself, and disfiguring her own face
with the blood from his wounds, she called him her lord, her
husband, her emperor, and seemed to have pretty nearly forgotten all
her own evils, she was so intent upon his misfortunes. Antony,
stopping her lamentations as well as he could, called for wine to
drink, either that he was thirsty, or that he imagined that it might
put him the sooner out of pain. When he had drunk, he advised her to
bring her own affairs, so far as might be honourably done, to a safe
conclusion, and that, among all the friends of Caesar, she should rely
on Proculeius; that she should not pity him in this last turn of fate,
but rather rejoice for him in remembrance of his past happiness, who
had been of all men the most illustrious and powerful, and in the
end had fallen not ignobly, a Roman by a Roman overcome.
  Just as he breathed his last, Proculeius arrived from Caesar; for
when Antony gave himself his wound, and was carried in to Cleopatra,
one of his guards, Dercetaeus, took up Antony's sword and hid it; and,
when he saw his opportunity, stole away to Caesar, and brought him the
first news of Antony's death, and withal showed him the bloody
sword. Caesar, upon this, retired into the inner part of his tent, and
giving some tears to the death of one that had been nearly allied to
him in marriage, his colleague in empire, and companion in so many
wars and dangers, he came out to his friends, and, bringing with him
many letters, he read to them with how much reason and moderation he
had always addressed himself to Antony, and in return what overbearing
and arrogant answers he received. Then he sent Proculeius to use his
utmost endeavours to get Cleopatra alive into his power; for he was
afraid of losing a great treasure, and, besides, she would be no small
addition to the glory of his triumph. She, however, was careful not to
put herself in Proculeius's power; but from within her monument, he
standing on the outside of a door, on the level of the ground, which
was strongly barred, but so that they might well enough hear one
another's voice, she held a conference with him; she demanding that
her kingdom might be given to her children, and he binding her to be
of good courage, and trust Caesar in everything.
  Having taken particular notice of the place, he returned to
Caesar, and Gallus was sent to parley with her the second time; who,
being come to the door, on purpose prolonged the conference, while
Proculeius fixed his scaling-ladders in the window through which the
women had pulled up Antony. And so entering, with two men to follow
him, he went straight down to the door where Cleopatra was discoursing
with Gallus. One of the two women who were shut up in the monument
with her cried out, "Miserable Cleopatra, you are taken prisoner!"
Upon which she turned quick, and, looking at Proculeius, drew out
her dagger which she had with her to stab herself. But Proculeius
ran up quickly, and seizing her with both his hands, "For shame," said
he, "Cleopatra; you wrong yourself and Caesar much, who would rob
him of so fair an occasion of showing his clemency, and would make the
world believe the most gentle of commanders to be a faithless and
implacable enemy." And so, taking the dagger out of her hand, he
also shook her dress to see if there were any poison hid in it.
After this, Caesar sent Epaphroditus, one of his freedmen, with orders
to treat her with all the gentleness and civility possible, but to
take the strictest precautions to keep her alive.
  In the meanwhile, Caesar made his entry into Alexandria, with Areius
the philosopher at his side, holding him by the hand and talking
with him; desiring that all his fellow-citizens should see what honour
was paid to him, and should look up to him accordingly from the very
first moment. Then, entering the exercise ground, he mounted a
platform erected for the purpose, and from thence commanded the
citizens (who, in great fear and consternation, fell prostrate at
his feet) to stand up, and told them that he freely acquitted the
people of all blame first, for the sake of Alexander, who built
their city, then for the city's sake itself, which was so large and
beautiful; and, thirdly, to gratify his friend Areius.
  Such great honour did Areius receive from Caesar; and by his
intercession many lives were saved, amongst the rest that of
Philostratus, a man, of all the professors of logic that ever were,
the most ready in extempore speaking, but quite destitute of any right
to call himself one of the philosophers of the Academy. Caesar, out of
disgust at his character, refused all attention to his entreaties. So,
growing a long white beard, and dressing himself in black, he followed
behind Areius, shouting out the verse,

         "The wise, if they are wise, will save the wise."

Which Caesar hearing, gave him his pardon, to prevent rather any odium
that might attach to Areius, than any harm that Philostratus might
suffer.
  Of Antony's children, Antyllus, his son by Fulvia, being betrayed by
his tutor, Theodorus, was put to death; and while the soldiers were
cutting off his head, his tutor contrived to steal a precious jewel
which he wore about his neck, and put it in his pocket, and afterwards
denied the fact, but was convicted and crucified. Cleopatra's
children, with their attendants, had a guard set on them, and were
treated very honourably. Caesarion, who was reputed to be the son of
Caesar the Dictator, was sent by his mother, with a great sum of
money, through Ethiopia, to pass into India; but his tutor, a man
named Rhodon, about as honest as Theodorus, persuaded him to turn
back, for that Caesar designed to make him king. Caesar consulting
what was best to be done with him, Areius we are told, said,

        "Too many Caesars are not well."

So, afterwards, when Cleopatra was dead he was killed.
  Many kings and great commanders made petition to Caesar for the body
of Antony, to give him his funeral rites; but he would not take away
his corpse from Cleopatra by whose hands he was buried with royal
splendour and magnificence, it being granted to her to employ what she
pleased on his funeral. In this extremity of grief and sorrow, and
having inflamed and ulcerated her breasts with beating them, she
fell into a high fever, and was very glad of the occasion, hoping,
under this pretext, to abstain from food, and so to die in quiet
without interference. She had her own physician, Olympus, to whom
she told the truth, and asked his advice and help to put an end to
herself, as Olympus himself has told us, in a narrative which he wrote
of these events. But Caesar, suspecting her purpose, took to
menacing language about her children, and excited her fears for
them, before which engines her purpose shook and gave way, so that she
suffered those about her to give her what meat or medicine they
pleased.
  Some few days after, Caesar himself came to make her a visit and
comfort her. She lay then upon her pallet-bed in undress, and, on
his entering, sprang up from off her bed, having nothing on but the
one garment next her body, and flung herself at his feet, her hair and
face looking wild and disfigured, her voice quivering, and her eyes
sunk in her head. The marks of the blows she had given herself were
visible about her bosom, and altogether her whole person seemed no
less afflicted than her soul. But, for all this, her old charm, and
the boldness of her youthful beauty, had not wholly left her, and,
in spite of her present condition, still sparkled from within, and let
itself appear in all the movements of her countenance. Caesar,
desiring her to repose herself, sat down by her; and, on this
opportunity, she said something to justify her actions, attributing
what she had done to the necessity she was under, and to her fear of
Antony; and when Caesar, on each point, made his objections, and she
found herself confuted, she broke off at once into language of
entreaty and deprecation, as if she desired nothing more than to
prolong her life. And at last, having by her a list of her treasure,
she gave it into his hands; and when Seleucus, one of her stewards,
who was by, pointed out that various articles were omitted, and
charged her with secreting them, she flew up and caught him by the
hair, and struck him several blows on the face. Caesar smiling and
withholding her, "Is it not very hard, Caesar," said she, "when you do
me the honour to visit me in this condition I am in, that I should
be accused by one of my own servants of laying by some women's toys,
not meant to adorn, be sure, my unhappy self, but that I might have
some little present by me to make your Octavia and your Livia, that by
their intercession I might hope to find you in some measure disposed
to mercy?" Caesar was pleased to hear her talk thus, being now assured
that she was desirous to live. And, therefore, letting her know that
the things she had laid by she might dispose of as she pleased, and
his usage of her should be honourable above her expectation, he went
away, well satisfied that he had overreached her, but, in fact, was
himself deceived.
  There was a young man of distinction among Caesar's companions named
Cornelius Dolabella. He was not without a certain tenderness for
Cleopatra and sent her word privately, as she had besought him to
do, that Caesar was about to return through Syria, and that she and
her children were to be sent on within three days. When she understood
this, she made her request to Caesar that he would be pleased to
permit her to make oblations to the departed Antony; which being
granted, she ordered herself to be carried to the place where he was
buried, and there, accompanied by her women, she embraced his tomb
with tears in her eyes, and spoke in this manner: "O, dearest Antony,"
said she, "it is not long since that with these hands I buried you;
then they were free, now I am a captive, and pay these last duties
to you with a guard upon me, for fear that my just griefs and
sorrows should impair my servile body, and make it less fit to
appear in their triumph over you. No further offerings or libations
expect from me; these are the last honours that Cleopatra can pay your
memory, for she is to be hurried away far from you. Nothing could part
us whilst we lived, but death seems to threaten to divide us. You, a
Roman born, have found a grave in Egypt; I, an Egyptian, am to seek
that favour, and none but that, in your country. But if the gods
below, with whom you now are, either can or will do anything (since
those above have betrayed us), suffer not your living wife to be
abandoned; let me not be led in triumph to your shame, but hide me and
bury me here with you since, amongst all my bitter misfortunes,
nothing has afflicted me like this brief time that I have lived away
from you."
  Having made these lamentations, crowning the tomb with garlands
and kissing it, she gave orders to prepare her a bath, and, coming out
of the bath, she lay down and made a sumptuous meal. And a country
fellow brought her a little basket, which the guards intercepting
and asking what it was the fellow put the leaves which lay uppermost
aside, and showed them it was full of figs; and on their admiring
the largeness and beauty of the figs, he laughed, and invited them
to take some, which they refused, and, suspecting nothing, bade him
carry them in. After her repast, Cleopatra sent to Caesar a letter
which she had written and sealed; and, putting everybody out of the
monument but her two women, she shut the doors. Caesar, opening her
letter, and finding pathetic prayers and entreaties that she might
be buried in the same tomb with Antony, soon guessed what was doing.
At first he was going himself in all haste, but, changing his mind, he
sent others to see. The thing had been quickly done. The messengers
came at full speed, and found the guards apprehensive of nothing;
but on opening the doors they saw her stone-dead, lying upon a bed
of gold, set out in all her royal ornaments. Iras, one of her women,
lay dying at her feet, and Charmion, just ready to fall, scarce able
to hold up her head, was adjusting her mistress's diadem. And when one
that came in said angrily, "Was this well done of your lady,
Charmion?" "Extremely well," she answered, "and as became the
descendant of so many kings;" and as she said this, she fell down dead
by the bedside.
  Some relate that an asp was brought in amongst those figs and
covered with the leaves, and that Cleopatra had arranged that it might
settle on her before she knew, but, when she took away some of the
figs and saw it, she said, "So here it is," and held out her bare
arm to be bitten. Others say that it was kept in a vase, and that
she vexed and pricked it with a golden spindle till it seized her arm.
But what really took place is known to no one, since it was also
said that she carried poison in a hollow bodkin, about which she wound
her hair; yet there was not so much as a spot found, or any symptom of
poison upon her body, nor was the asp seen within the monument; only
something like the trail of it was said to have been noticed on the
sand by the sea, on the part towards which the building faced and
where the windows were. Some relate that two faint puncture-marks were
found on Cleopatra's arm, and to this account Caesar seems to have
given credit; for in his triumph there was carried a figure of
Cleopatra, with an asp clinging to her. Such are the various accounts.
But Caesar, though much disappointed by her death, yet could not but
admire the greatness of her spirit, and gave order that her body
should be buried by Antony with royal splendour and magnificence.
Her women, also, received honourable burial by his directions.
Cleopatra had lived nine-and-thirty years, during twenty-two of been
she had reigned as queen, and for fourteen had been Antony's partner
in his empire. Antony, according to some authorities, was fifty-three,
according to others, fifty-six years old. His statues were all
thrown down, but those of Cleopatra were left untouched; for
Archibius, one of her friends, gave Caesar two thousand talents to
save them from the fate of Antony's.
  Antony left by his three wives seven children, of whom only
Antyllus, the eldest, was put to death by Caesar; Octavia took the
rest, and brought them up with her own. Cleopatra, his daughter by
Cleopatra, was given in marriage to Juba, the most accomplished of
kings; and Antony, his son by Fulvia, attained such high favour
that, whereas Agrippa was considered to hold the first place with
Caesar, and the sons of Livia the second, the third, without
dispute, was possessed by Antony. Octavia, also, having had by her
first husband, Marcellus, two daughters, and one son named
Marcellus, this son Caesar adopted, and gave him his daughter in
marriage; as did Octavia one of the daughters to Agrippa. But
Marcellus dying almost immediately after his marriage, she, perceiving
that her brother was at a loss to find elsewhere any sure friend to be
his son-in-law, was the first to recommend that Agrippa should put
away her daughter and marry Julia. To this Caesar first, and then
Agrippa himself, gave assent; so Agrippa married Julia, and Octavia,
receiving her daughter, married her to the young Antony. Of the two
daughters whom Octavia had borne to Antony, the one was married to
Domitius Ahenobarbus; and the other, Antonia, famous for her beauty
and discretion, was married to Drusus, the son of Livia, and stepson
to Caesar. Of these parents were born Germanicus and Claudius.
Claudius reigned later; and of the children of Germanicus, Caius,
after a reign of distinction, was killed with his wife and child;
Agrippina, after bearing a son Lucius Domitius, to Ahenobarbus, was
married to Claudius Caesar, who adopted Domitius, giving him the
name of Nero Germanicus. He was emperor in our time, and put his
mother to death, and with his madness and folly came not far from
ruining the Roman empire, being Antony's descendant in the fifth
generation.


                               THE END
