No More Learning

After this he made several journeys, and stayed a considerable time in Rome, where he enjoyed friendly intercourse with persons of distinction, and conducted the education of the future Emperor Hadrian. He died about a. d. 120 in his native town, in which he held the office of archon and priest of the Pythian Apollo. His fame as an author is founded upon the celebrated " Parallel Lives," consisting of the biographies of forty-six Greeks and Romans, divided into pairs. Each pair contains the life of a Greek and a Roman, and generally ends with a comparison of the two. Plutarch's other writings, short treatises on a great variety of subjects, are grouped under the title of "Morals. "]
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 dis tinguished in public life, but a worthy good man, and particu larly 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 humor, and was going to put the servants one by one to the search, he acknowledged what he had done, and begged her pardon.
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 at that early age he ran into debt to the amount of two hundred and fifty talents [$300,000]. 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
224 ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
violence and disorder; but getting weary before long of his madness, and apprehensive of the powerful party forming against him, he left Italy and traveled 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. . . .
In all the great and frequent skirmishes and battles, he gave continual proofs of his personal valor and military conduct. 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 honors. 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 called Anton; and this opinion he thought to give credit to also by the fashion of his dress.
What might seem to some very insupportable, his vaunt ing, 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 agree able : he gained many friends by the assistance he gave them in theirs, and took other people's raillery upon his own with good humor. And his generous ways, his open and lavish hand in gifts and favors 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 decies [over $1,000,000] ; 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, perceiv
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ing the man's malice, said he : "I thought the decies had been much more : 'tis too little ; let it be doubled. "
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. . . .
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 con cerned himself, seemed like 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 great est errors, was thought the most deeply in fault. . . .
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 gen eral behavior, 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, citizenlike 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, jug glers, and drunken flatterers, upon whom were spent the great est 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
with 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.
vol. v. — 16
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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 rival ing 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 license 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
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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 natter or deceive him in business of consequence, not knowing how common it is with parasites to mix their flattery with boldness, as confec tioners 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 finely 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 favor 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.
\
228 ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
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 humor 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 equaled 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 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 savored more of the soldier than the courtier, rejoined in the same taste, and fell into at once, without any sort of reluctance or reserve. For her actual beauty, 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 con tact of her presence, you lived with her, was irresistible
it if
it,
;
it is
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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 her self, 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 Labi- enus (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 an 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, a* it is impossible to guess at his hour. "
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This was Philotas' story ; who related besides, that he afterwards came to be one of 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 set 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-humoredly and kindly in his frolic and play, saying they were much obliged to Antony for acting his tragic parts at Rome, and keeping his comedy for them.
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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 admira
tion, 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.
and Canopus ; your game is cities, provinces, and kingdoms. " *******
Antony, feeling his line give, drew up the" prey, and when, as
may be imagined, great laughter ensued, Leave," said Cleo
patra, " the fishing rod, general, to us poor sovereigns of Pharos
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 hus band, 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 be havior proved her words to be sincere. She remained in An tony'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 honorable deportment did but, without her meaning it, damage the reputa tion of Antony ; the wrong he did to such a woman made him
contempt of his country.
hated. *******
Nor was the division he made among his sons at Alexandria less unpopular ; it seemed a theatrical piece of insolence and
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
232 ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
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 Cœlius the left squadron, Marcus Octavius and Marcus Insteius the center. 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
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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 defense of a fortified place ; for there were always three or four vessels of Caesar's about one of An tony'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 out flank 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 in deed 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
234 ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
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, with out a word, in the ship's prow, covering his face with his two hands. In the mean while, 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 sat 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 Macedonia into Asia. And, designing him self 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 col lections, 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 secu
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rity, 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 men 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, how ever, 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 them selves 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 by night, and that all their officers had quite abandoned them, they gave way, and made their submission to the conqueror. . . .
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 prison ers 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 watched 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 appear ance, being sensible of no pain, but rather troubled to be dis turbed or awakened, like those that are in a profound natural sleep. . . .
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Caesar would not listen to any proposals for Antony, but he made answer to Cleopatra, that there was no reasonable favor 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 honors 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 cir cumstances he could not be expected to be very patient : " But if it offend 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 splendor and magnificence, so that many of the guests sat down in want, and went home wealthy men. Mean time, 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 towards 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
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 237
kissed her, and commended to her favor 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 honorably 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 per ceiving, told them he would not lead them to a battle in which he expected rather an honorable 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 pro cession 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 con sidered 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
238 ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
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 armor, " 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 monu ment, 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,
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 239
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 honorably 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 endeavors 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' power ; but from within her monu ment, 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 bidding 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 confer ence, while Proculeius fixed his scaling ladders in the window through which the women had pulled up Antony. And so enter ing, 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
240 ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
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 implaca ble 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. . . .
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 splendor 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 in, 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 dis figured, 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 coun
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 241
tenance. 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 depreca tion, 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 honor to visit me in this condi tion 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 inter
cession 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 honorable above her expectation, he went away, well satisfied that he had over reached her ; but, in fact, he was himself deceived.
There was a young man of distinction among Caesar's com panions, 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 vol. v. — 16 •
242 ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
last honors 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 favor, 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 sumptu ous meal. And a country fellow brought her a little basket, which the guards intercepting and asking what it was, the fel low 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 every body 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 mis tress' 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 she said, " So here is," and
it,
it
CLEOPATRA. 243
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 monu ment ; 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 beside Antony with royal splendor and magnificence. Her women also received honorable burial by his directions.
CLEOPATRA.
By WILLIAM WETMORE STORY.
[William Wetmore Stoky, lawyer, sculptor, and poet, was born in Salem, Mass. , February 19, 1819, the son of Joseph Story, the eminent jurist. After graduating at Harvard, he studied law with his father and amused his leisure with sculpture. He went to Rome in 1848, and soon became proficient in the art which he had taken up as an amateur at home. He wrote legal treatises," and volumes of prose and poetry, among them being "Nature and Art : a Poem (1844), " Roba di Roma, or Walks and Talks in Rome " (1862), " Excursus in Art and Letters " (1891), and " A Poet's Portfolio " (1894). He died at Vallom- brosa, near Florence, October 8, 1896. ]
Here, Charmian, take my bracelets — They bar with a purple stain —
My arms ; turn over my pillows They are hot where I have lain:
Open the lattice wider,
A gauze on my bosom throw,
And let me inhale the odors That over the garden blow.
CLEOPATRA.
I dreamed I was with my Antony, And in his arms Ilay; —
Ah, me! the vision has vanished Its music has died away.
The flame and the perfume have perished As this spiced aromatic pastille
That wound the blue smoke of its odor Is now but an ashy hill.
Scatter upon me rose leaves, — They cool me after my sleep ;
And with sandal odors fan me Till into my veins they creep ;
Reach down the lute, and play me A melancholy tune,
—
To rhyme with the dream that has vanished, And the slumbering afternoon.
There, drowsing in golden sunlight, Loiters the slow smooth Nile,
Through slender papyri, that cover The sleeping crocodile.
The lotus lolls on the water, And opens its heart of gold,
And over its broad leaf pavement Never a ripple is rolled.
The twilight breeze is too lazy Those feathery palms to wave, And yon little cloud is motionless
As a stone above a grave.
Ah, me ! this lifeless nature Oppresses my heart and brain !
Oh ! for a storm and thunder —
For lightning and wild fierce rain !
Fling down that lute — I hate it ! Take rather his buckler and sword,
And crash them and clash them together Till this sleeping world is stirred.
Hark ! to my Indian beauty — My cockatoo, creamy white, —
With roses under his feathers That flashes across the light.
Look ! listen ! as backward and forward To his hoop of gold he clings,
CLEOPATRA.
How he trembles, with crest uplifted, And shrieks as he madly swings !
Oh, cockatoo, shriek for Antony !
Cry, " Come, my love, come home I " Shriek, " Antony ! Antony ! Antony ! "
Till he hears you even in Rome.
There — leave me, and take from my chamber That wretched little gazelle,
With its bright black eyes so meaningless, And its silly tinkling bell !
Take him, — my nerves he vexes, — The thing without blood or brain,
Or, by the body of Isis,
I'll snap his thin neck in twain I
Leave me to gaze at the landscape Mistily stretching away,
When the afternoon's opaline tremors O'er the mountains quivering play ;
Till the fiercer splendor of sunset Pours from the west its fire,
And melted, as in a crucible, Their earthly forms expire ;
And the bald blear skull of the desert With glowing mountains is crowned,
That burning like molten jewels Circle its temples round.
I will lie and dream of the past time, iEons of thought away,
And through the jungle of memory Loosen my fancy to play ;
When, a smooth and velvety tiger, Ribbed with yellow and black,
Supple and cushion-footed
I wandered, where never the track
Of a human creature had rustled The silence of mighty woods,
And fierce in a tyrannous freedom, I knew but the law of my moods.
The elephant, trumpeting, started, When he heard my footstep near,
And the spotted giraffes fled wildly In a yellow cloud of fear.
CLEOPATRA.
I sucked in the noontide splendor, Quivering along the glade,
Or yawning, panting, and dreaming, Basked in the tamarisk shade,
Till I heard my wild mate roaring, As the shadows of night came on,
To brood in the trees' thick branches, And the shadow of sleep was gone;
Then I roused, and roared in answer,
And unsheathed from my cushioned feet
My curving claws, and stretched me, And wandered my mate to greet.
We toyed in the amber moonlight,
Upon the warm flat sand, —
And struck at each other our massive arms How powerful he was and grand !
His yellow eyes flashed fiercely
As he crouched and gazed at me,
And his quivering tail, like a serpent, Twitched, curving nervously.
Then like a storm he seized me, With a wild triumphant cry,
And we met, as two clouds in heaven When the thunders before them fly.
We grappled and struggled together, For his love like his rage was rude ;
And his teeth in the swelling folds of my neck At times, in our play, drew blood.
Often another suitor —
For I was flexile and fair —
Fought for me in the moonlight, While I lay crouching there,
Till his blood was drained by the desert ; And, ruffled with triumph and power,
He licked me and lay beside me To breathe him a vast half-hour.
Then down to the fountain we loitered, Where the antelopes came to drink ;
Like a bolt we sprang upon them, Ere they had time to shrink.
We drank their blood and crushed them, And tore them limb from limb,
And the hungriest lion doubted Ere he disputed with him.
THE SAVAGERY OF CLASSIC TIMES. 247
That was a life to live for ! Not this weak human life,
With its frivolous, bloodless passions, Its poor and petty strife !
Come to my arms, my hero :
The shadows of twilight grow, And the tiger's ancient fierceness
In my veins begins to flow. Come not cringing to sue me !
Take me with triumph and power, As a warrior that storms a fortress !
I will not shrink or cower. Come, as you came in the desert, Ere we were women and men,
When the tiger passions were in us, And love as you loved me then !
THE SAVAGERY OF CLASSIC TIMES. By ANTHONY TROLLOPE.
[Akthont Trollofe : An English novelist ; born in London, April 24, 1816 ; died December 6, 1882. He assisted in establishing the Fortnightly Review (1866). Among his works are: "The Macdermots of Ballycloran" (1847); ««The Kellys and the O'Kellys " (1848) ; " La Vendee " (1860) ; " The Warden " (1855); " Barchester Towers " (1857); " Doctor Thome " (1858) ; "The West Indies and the Spanish Main," a book of travel (1859) ; "Castle Richmond" (1860) ; "OrleyFarm" (1861-1862) ; " Framley Parsonage " (1861) ; "Tales of All Countries" (1861-1863) ; " North America," travels (1862) ; " Rachel Ray " (18631 ; " The Small House at Allington " (1864); "Can You Forgive Her? "
(1864); " Miss Mackenzie " (1865); " The Last Chronicle of Barset" (1867); " Linda Tressel" (1868); " Phineas Finn " (1869); "The Vicar of Bullhamp- ton" (1870) ; "Phineas Redux" (1873) ; "Lady Anna" (1874) ; "The Prime Minister" (1875); "The American Senator" (1877); "Is He Popenjoy? "
(1878); "Thackeray," in English Men of Letters (1879); "Life of Cicero" (1880); "Ayala's Angel" (1881); " Mr. Scarborough's Family " (1882); "The
Landleaguers," unfinished (1882) ; " An Old Man's Love " (1884). ]
That which will most strike the ordinary English reader in the narrative of Caesar is the cruelty of the Romans, — cruelty of which Caesar himself is guilty to a frightful extent, and of which he never expresses horror. And yet among his contem poraries he achieved a character for clemency which he has re tained to the present day. In describing the character of Caesar,
248 THE SAVAGERY OF CLASSIC TIMES.
without reference to that of his contemporaries, it is impossible not to declare him to have been terribly cruel. From blood- thirstiness he slaughtered none; but neither from tenderness did he spare any. All was done from policy; and when policy seemed to him to demand blood, he could, without a scruple, — as far as we can judge, without a pang, — order the destruction of human beings, having no regard to number, sex, age, inno cence, or helplessness. Our only excuse for him is that he was a Roman, and that Romans were indifferent to blood. Suicide was with them the common mode of avoiding otherwise in evitable misfortune, and it was natural that men who made light of their own lives should also make light of the lives of others.
Of all those with whose names the reader will become acquainted in the following pages [of Roman history], hardly one or two died in their beds. Caesar and Pompey, the two great ones, were murdered. Dumnorix, the iEduan, was killed by Caesar's orders. Vercingetorix, the gallantest of the Gauls, was kept alive for years that his death might grace Caesar's Triumph. Ariovistus, the German, escaped from Caesar, but we hear soon after of his death, and that the Germans resented it: he doubtless was killed by a Roman weapon. What became of the hunted Ambiorix we do not know, but his brother king Cativolcus poisoned himself with the juice of a yew tree. Cras- sus, the partner of Caesar and Pompey in the first triumvirate, was killed by the Parthians. Young Crassus, the son, Caesar's officer in Gaul, had himself killed by his own men that he might not fall into the hands of the Parthians, and his head was cut off and sent to his father. Labienus fell at Munda, in the last civil war with Spain. Quintus Cicero, Caesar's lieutenant, and his greater brother, the orator, and his son, perished in the proscriptions of the second triumvirate. Titurius and Cotta were slaughtered with all their army by Ambiorix. Afranius was killed by Caesar's soldiers after the last battle in Africa. Petreius was hacked to pieces in amicable contest by King Juba. Varro indeed lived to be an old man, and to write many books. Domitius, who defended Marseilles for Pompey, was killed in the flight after Pharsalia. Trebonius, who attacked Marseilles by land, was killed by a son-in-law of Cicero at Smyrna. Of Decimus Brutus, who attacked Marseilles by sea, one Camillus cut off the head and sent it as a present to Antony. Curio, who attempted to master the province of
Savagery of Classic Times From the painting in the Louvre
THE SAVAGERY OP CLASSIC TIMES. 249
Africa on behalf of Caesar, rushed amidst his enemies' swords and was slaughtered. King Juba, who conquered him, failing to kill himself, had himself killed by a slave. Attius Varus, who had held the province for Pompey, fell afterwards at Munda. Marc Antony, Caesar's great lieutenant in the Phar- salian wars, stabbed himself. Cassius Longinus, another lieu tenant under Caesar, was drowned. Scipio, Pompey's partner in greatness at Pharsalia, destroyed himself in Africa. Bibu- lus, his chief admiral, pined to death. Young Ptolemy, to whom Pompey fled, was drowned in the Nile. The fate of his sister Cleopatra is known to all the world. Pharnaces, Caesar's enemy in Asia, fell in battle. Cato destroyed himself at Utica. Pompey's eldest son, Cnaeus, was caught wounded in Spain and slaughtered. Sextus the younger was killed some years after ward by one of Antony's soldiers. Brutus and Cassius, the two great conspirators, both committed suicide. But"of these two we hear little or nothing in the " Commentaries ; nor of Augustus Caesar, who did contrive to live in spite of all the bloodshed through which he had waded to the throne. Among the whole number there are not above three, if so many, who died fairly fighting in battle. —
The above is a list of the names of men of mark,
riors chiefly, of men who, with their eyes open, knowing what was before them, went out to encounter danger for certain pur poses. The bloody catalogue is so complete, so nearly com prises all whose names are mentioned, that it strikes the reader with almost a comic horror. But when we come to the slaughter of whole towns, the devastation of a country effected purposely that men and women might starve, to the abandon ment of the old, the young, and the tender, that they might perish on the hillsides, to the mutilation of crowds of men, to the burning of cities told us in a passing word, to the drown ing of many thousands, — mentioned as we should mention the destruction of a brood of rats, —the comedy is all over, and the heart becomes sick. Then it is that we remember that the coming of Christ has changed all things, and that men now — though terrible things have been done since Christ came to us — are not as men were in the days of Caesar.
of war
250 ROMAN AND CELT IN OUR DAYS.
ROMAN AND CELT IN OUR DAYS. By Professor CHARLES F. JOHNSON.
Under the slanting light of the yellow sun of October,
A " gang of Dagos " were working close by the side of the car track. Pausing a moment to catch a note of their liquid Italian,
Faintly I heard an echo of Rome's imperial accents, —
Broken-down forms of Latin words from the Senate and Forum, Now smoothed over by use to the musical lingua Romana.
Then came the thought — Why I these are the heirs of the conquer
ing Romans ;
These are the sons of the men who founded the empire of Caesar. These are they whose fathers carried the conquering eagles
Over all Gaul and across the sea to Ultima Thule. [figures The race type persists unchanged in their eyes, and profiles, and Muscular, short, and thick-set, with prominent noses, recalling
" Romanos rerum dominos, gentemque togatam. "
See, Labienus is swinging a pick with rhythmical motion ;
Yonder one pushing the shovel might be Julius Caesar, —
Lean, deep-eyed, broad-browed, and bald, a man of a thousand; Further along stands the jolly Horatius Flaccus ;
Grim and grave, with rings in his ears, see Cato the Censor;
And the next has precisely the bust of Cneius Pompeius.
Blurred and worn the surface, I grant, and the coin is but copper ; Look more closely, you'll catch a hint of the old superscription, Perhaps the stem of a letter, perhaps a leaf of the laurel.
On the side of the street, in proud and gloomy seclusion,
" Bossing the job," stood a Celt, the race enslaved by the legions, Sold in the market of Rome to meet the expenses of Caesar.
And as I loitered, the Celt cried out, " Wot-ruk, ye Dagos !
Full up your shovel, Paythro, ye hay then, — I'll dock yees a quarther !