The Girls' Book of Famous Queens

Cleopatra was also a beautiful singer, and she now employed all the arts of her beauty and mind to the task of completely subduing the will and the heart of the great Roman general, who was soon so entirely ensnared by this enchanting sorceress, that he forgot all about his wife, whom he had left in Rome, and also his duties of country, and even his glories of war; and thus this old warrior became a willing captive to the spell of Cleopatra, who persuaded him to follow her to Alexandria, and there he gave himself up to every kind of idle amusement and the most profligate dissipation.

Antony and Cleopatra had each a magnificent palace in Alexandria, and they feted each other by turns. Philotas, a young physician who was at that time pursuing his studies at Alexandria, related to Plutarch’s grandfather some incidents of these extravagant feasts. At one time Philotas entered Antony’s kitchen when eight wild boars were being roasted whole. Upon expressing astonishment at the large number of guests who must be expected, to require such a dinner, the cook informed him that there would be none others but Antony’s usual party of twelve; but as each dish must be served in perfection, and as Antony and Cleopatra often became engaged in some new diversion just as dinner was ready, and would thereupon give orders to have it wait their pleasure, it was necessary to cook eight entire dinners, that whichever one should suit their time to eat, it might be served without the slightest signs of neglect in its preparation.

But the most costly of the luxuries then used in Egypt were the scents and ointments. Many of these perfumes, such as the attar of roses, were sold for four hundred denarii the pound.

Cleopatra endeavored by every art possible to so fascinate Antony that he would not think of returning to Rome. Perceiving that Antony was partial to gross and sensuous pleasures, and more given to feasting than the polite arts and sciences, in which Cleopatra herself was remarkably accomplished, she therefore cultivated only the coarser side of her nature, and gave herself up to the most riotous amusements. She played at dice with him, hunted by his side, was present at all his military parades, and even joined him in his night revels in the street, when Antony, disguising himself as a servant, and Cleopatra dressed as a maid, accompanied by half-drunken companions, they went through the streets of Alexandria, attended with boisterous musicians and singers, and perpetrated all kinds of wild pranks.

Thus the elegant Cleopatra, who could charm Julius Cæsar with the marvellous intelligence and keen wit of her conversation and the graceful allurements of her refined beauty, when with the mad Antony, who was more of a wild boar than statesman, laid aside her bewitching loveliness of mind and manner, and condescended to join in a wild revelry, as boisterous and undignified as his coarser nature could enjoy. Yet even the witchery of her youth, beauty, wealth, and gracefulness could not cloak the enormities of vice and crime. Her first request of Antony was the death of her sister Arsinoë, who had been living in exile in Asia since the time when she had been taken to Rome as a prisoner by Julius Cæsar. Either from jealousy or ambition, Cleopatra desired her to be put out of her way, and Antony caused her to be killed in the temple of Diana, at Miletus, whither Arsinoë had fled for refuge. Thus did Cleopatra continue her bloody work even in the midst of her most gorgeous revels.

From henceforth in her history we can no longer think of her as the lovely lotus of the Nile, the very flower of womanly loveliness, as she appeared upon her enchanting barge, sailing in the glowing sunshine, over the shining waters of the Cydnus; but she becomes more like a beautiful tiger, or, as Shakespeare calls her, “that old serpent of the Nile,” charming the unwary victims by her glistening eyes and alluring wiles, only to crush them at last within the encircling coils of her irresistible spell. Antony had sent for her as her master, but he was now her slave.

One day the queen of Egypt accompanied him on a fishing excursion. Antony, having caught nothing, was much chagrined; and to appear successful in the eyes of Cleopatra, he ordered a fisherman to dive beneath the water and fasten to his line one of the large fish which the fisherman had just caught. This having been done, Antony drew in his line with much satisfaction, and displayed the fine trophy he had so skilfully ensnared. Cleopatra, however, was not ignorant of this artifice, but she affected much admiration for Antony’s successful angling, and she arranged for another fishing party the next day. Accordingly, when they once again set sail in the fishing-boats, she ordered one of her servants to dive below the water when Antony should throw his line, and fasten to his hook a large salt fish which had been brought from the province of Pontus. Again Antony drew in his line in triumph, which was quickly changed to intense mortification as he beheld the salt fish dangling from his hook. Amidst the uproarious laughter which this amusing incident occasioned, Cleopatra exclaimed, “Leave the line, good general, to us, the kings and queens of Pharos and Canopus; your business is to fish for cities, kingdoms, and kings.”

While Antony thus amused himself with such sports, and much more condemnatory pleasures, news reached him of trouble at Rome. His wife Fulvia and his brother had been banished, and Octavius Cæsar declared himself an open foe. Fulvia soon after died, and Antony returning to Rome, was reconciled to young Cæsar by marrying his sister Octavia, although Cleopatra already pretended to be his lawful wife; and in order to appease her, Antony was obliged to make magnificent presents to Cleopatra, consisting of the provinces of Phoenicia, the Lower Syria, the Isle of Cyprus, with a great part of Cilicia. Cleopatra also begged him to put to death Herod, king of Judea, and Malichus, king of Arabia, who were her enemies. But Antony did not yield to these bloody demands, and only gave her the balsam country around Jericho, and a rent-charge of thirty thousand pounds a year on the revenues of Judea. It is related that at a feast, when Cleopatra perceived Antony to be under the influence of wine, she even presumed to ask him to give her the Roman Empire, which he was not ashamed to promise her. On receiving these large additions to her kingdom, Cleopatra, in honor of Antony, dated the years of her reign anew, calling what was in reality the sixteenth year of her reign over Egypt, the first, and thus she reckoned them until her death. Antony also presented to her the large library of Pergamus, which had fallen to his share in the spoils of war. This library Eumenes and Attalus had hoped to make as famous as the museum of Alexandria, which had perished in the flames of the Alexandrine war. Cleopatra placed the two hundred thousand volumes thus acquired, in the temple of Serapis, and once again Alexandria held the largest library in the world, notwithstanding the destruction of the far-famed museum. These royal gifts caused the Romans to entertain bitter hatred against Antony, and especially against Cleopatra, whom they blamed for her evil influence over their once illustrious general.

After Antony’s marriage to Octavia, he made several expeditions against surrounding nations, and Octavia accompanied him into Greece. But open hostilities having broken out between Octavius and Antony, Octavia was sent to Rome to effect a reconciliation between her husband and brother. This she partially accomplished; but Antony, again ensnared by the enchantments of Cleopatra, forgot all his duties of state and country, and again was lured to Alexandria, leaving Octavia in Rome. This illustrious Roman lady displayed the most loyal devotion to her husband and their children, and endeavored in every way to dissuade her brother from taking up arms against Antony, whose cruel neglect of his wife inflamed her brother, Octavius Cæsar, to the most intense hatred, and a determination to avenge her wrongs, as well as assert his own ambitious power.

Meanwhile, Antony was spending his time in Egypt. At length he determined to undertake an expedition against the Parthians and Armenians. While in Phœnicia, Cleopatra joined him, bringing him money and clothes and food for his soldiers. Meanwhile Octavia had also left Rome and reached Athens, on her way to Antony’s camp, to bring him the supplies and money she had procured in Rome for his suffering troops. Fearing that Octavia might win Antony from her side, Cleopatra affected to die for love of him. She refrained from food, and was often discovered by him in tears; and her attendants constantly reminded him of her great grief, and declared that if he should leave her, she would surely die. As Antony had married Octavia only for political power in Rome, and as he did love Cleopatra more intensely than he had ever loved any human being before, he sent word to Octavia to return to Rome, and soon after sent deputies to Rome, to declare his divorce from Octavia, and with orders to command her to leave his house, with all her children.

Even this wicked and cruel indignity did not destroy the devoted love of Octavia. She obeyed the outrageous summons, and continued to take the most untiring care, not only of her own children, but of those of Antony and his former wife, Fulvia. She also endeavored to appease the indignation of the Roman people against him; but she could not lessen the resentment of her brother Octavius, who now prepared for open war. While the names of Antony and Cleopatra were held in abhorrence in Rome, in Alexandria new and most gorgeous honors were accorded them.

In the magnificent palace of the Ptolemies a massive throne of gold was erected, the ascent to which was by steps of solid silver. Upon this glistening throne sat Antony and Cleopatra. He was arrayed in a superb robe of purple, embroidered with gold, and buttoned with flashing diamonds. On his side he wore a Persian scimitar, the handle and sheath of which were encrusted with sparkling gems. His diadem glittered with precious stones, and in his right hand he held a sceptre of gold. Thus had he caused himself to be so gorgeously attired, in order, as he said, “that in such royal equipage he might deserve to be the husband of a queen.”

Upon his right side sat Cleopatra, costumed as the goddess Isis, whose name and honors she assumed on public occasions of great pomp and magnificence. She wore a shining robe of the precious linen set apart for the service of that goddess, so fine and sheer that it seemed to encase her graceful form in gleaming folds of shimmering light. Upon her royal brow glistened most priceless jewels, while her fair neck seemed almost weighted with its sparkling gem-encrusted chains. She looked, in truth, a very goddess, this proud Egyptian Queen, this gorgeous Lotus Blossom of the Nile, this most matchless siren, most peerless Peri of the Orient! Never before had she appeared more gloriously beautiful; though even now the black clouds of disappointment and death were gathering thick around, soon to overshadow herself and illustrious kingdom in irretrievable ruin. But unmindful of the coming storm, the eyes of this Egyptian Isis, seated in goddess-like magnificence upon her shining throne, flashed with proud triumph and gratified ambition.

A little lower upon this gorgeous throne sat three children. The eldest was Cæsario, the son of Cleopatra and Julius Cæsar; the two younger were Alexander and Ptolemy, sons of Antony and Cleopatra. Cæsario was dressed as a young Egyptian prince; while the younger boys wore the costumes of the countries over which they were to reign. After the people had assembled in the palace, by the command of Antony, heralds proclaimed Cleopatra queen of Egypt, Cyprus, Libya, and Cœlosyria, in conjunction with her son Cæsario. The young princes Alexander and Ptolemy were also proclaimed “kings of kings”; and to Alexander, the elder, Antony gave the kingdoms of Armenia and Media, with Parthia, when Antony should have conquered it. To the younger, Ptolemy, the kingdoms of Syria, Phoenicia, and Cilicia were given. After the proclamation the three young princes knelt before Cleopatra and Antony, and made them royal obeisance, kissing their hands. To each of them was afterwards assigned a regiment of guards and a retinue of youths chosen from the principal families in the several countries.

Cæsar now advanced with his army against Antony. Cleopatra, having furnished him with troops and ships, – which, together with his own land forces, formed a large army, – they departed to Ephesus, and thence to Samos, where, notwithstanding their impending peril, they passed many days in feasting and pleasure. The island became such a scene of riot and revelry that the people exclaimed in astonishment, “If Antony celebrates such festivities before going into battle, by what means could he express his joy should he obtain the victory?”

Antony and Cleopatra, with a magnificent retinue, then went to Athens. As Octavia had been formerly received by the Athenians with marked attentions, Cleopatra determined that she would outvie her rival. She accordingly lavished such costly gifts and immense sums of money amongst the Athenians, that they were amazed, and decreed to her the most exalted honors. They sent an imposing embassy to her, and Antony himself, in the character of an Athenian citizen, was one of the ambassadors.

It was during one of the gorgeous feasts celebrated at Samos that the following incident is supposed to have occurred.

Notwithstanding Cleopatra’s professed fondness for Antony, he began at length to fear that in some moment of anger or treachery she might poison him. He therefore ordered that all of the viands served at these banquets should be first tasted by one of his servants before he partook of them. Cleopatra, perceiving this mistrust, determined to teach him how completely he was in her power if she chose to do him harm.

She therefore ordered the stems of the flowers to be poisoned, which formed the wreaths worn by Antony and herself at table according to the Egyptian custom, and in the midst of the feast she proposed that they should pluck the flowers from their crowns and drink them in their wine. Antony readily consented, and breaking off many of the blossoms from his wreath, he threw them in his glass and raised it to his lips to drink.

But Cleopatra quickly seized his uplifted arm and exclaimed: “I am the poisoner against whom you take such mighty precautions. If it were possible for me to live without you, judge now whether I wanted either opportunity or reason for such action.” She thereupon immediately ordered that a prisoner, already condemned to die, should be brought into the apartment, and the cup which Antony had been about to taste was given him, and Cleopatra commanded that he should drink its contents; after taking which, the slave immediately expired.

At length Antony and Cleopatra set forth with their entire fleet to meet their Roman foes. This fleet consisted of five hundred ships of war of great size and peculiar construction; but they were illy manned, as Antony was not able to secure mariners enough, and had been obliged to employ husbandmen, artisans, muleteers, and even boys. On board the fleet were two hundred thousand foot and twelve thousand horse. The kings of many countries had joined their forces in behalf of Cleopatra, and troops had been sent from Libya, Cappadocia, Paphlagonia, Comagena, Thrace, Pontus, Judea, Lycaonia, Galatia, and Media. Though all the ships were imposing, none equalled the magnificence of Cleopatra’s galley with its purple sails glittering with gold; while flags and banners floated in the breeze, and trumpets, drums, cymbals, and other instruments filled the air with gay and inspiring strains of martial music. Antony followed her in a galley little less splendid.

Cleopatra was flushed with triumph. Accompanied by one of the most renowned generals of the world, she proudly threatened the powerful Roman capital, and even dared to imagine that she could subdue the world and reign sole mistress of the greatest kingdoms of the earth.

Octavius Cæsar had only two hundred and fifty ships, and eighty thousand foot and twelve thousand horse. But his war-galleys were perfectly manned with experienced seamen, and his troops were old veterans in many illustrious wars.

By the advice of Cleopatra, Antony determined to risk all in a naval battle rather than a land conflict. Had he chosen the latter, his superior numbers might have turned the tide in his favor.

The important battle was fought upon the 2d of September, in the Gulf of Ambracia, near the city of Actium. While the battle was raging, and Antony’s chances of success were equal with those of Cæsar, Cleopatra turned and fled in fright, drawing after her the entire Egyptian squadron.

Antony, perceiving her flight, forgot everything in his wild impulse to follow her; and turning his galley, he ignominiously pursued her, leaving his soldiers to carry on the conflict. So bravely did they fight, even after this shameful desertion of their leader, that Cæsar with great difficulty gained the victory.

When Cleopatra perceived that Antony was following her, she commanded her admiral to stop her galley until Antony reached its side, when Antony was taken on board. But so great was his mortification and remorse that he would neither see her nor speak to her for three days; after which time she regained her old ascendancy, and they returned to Alexandria, where they gave themselves up anew to pleasure and feasting, even though they knew that Cæsar was already pursuing them.

Cleopatra now formed a very extraordinary design. She ordered that her ships, which were in the Mediterranean Sea, should be carried over the isthmus into the Red Sea; and she then determined to take all her treasures, and escape beyond the reach of Cæsar. But the Arabians having burned several of her ships, she abandoned the plan. She now resolved to be treacherous to Antony, and to gain the favor of Cæsar. Though she loved Antony to madness, her ambition was stronger than her love. She thereupon persuaded Antony to send ambassadors to Cæsar to sue for peace; and with them she sent officers of her own, who were bribed to treat separately with Cæsar on her behalf. Octavius Cæsar gave her reason to hope, if she would sacrifice Antony to him.

Now followed a time of vacillating love and ambition, despair and dissimulation. To dispel Antony’s suspicions she increased her caressing attentions, and spent her time in providing the most extravagant banquets and amusements.

Meanwhile, with a presentiment of her impending doom, she made special studies of all sorts of poisons, to discern, if possible, which would occasion the most speedy and painless death. She also experimented regarding the effects of the bites of the most poisonous reptiles and insects, using for her victims animals or condemned prisoners. At length she discovered that the asp was the only one whose bite occasioned neither torture nor convulsions, the victim being speedily stupefied, and dying in a seemingly painless sleep.

Antony and Cleopatra now formed a new compact, called “Synapothanumenon,” signifying the order and agreement of those who will die together, in substitution for their former order of existence, called “Amimetobion,” meaning “no life comparable.”

News at length reached Alexandria that Cæsar had appeared before Pelusium, and that the city had fallen into his hands. It is said that this capture was obtained through the treachery of Cleopatra, who sent secret word to her governor there to surrender the place. Then, to clear herself from the rumors of this treason, she put the wife and children of the governor into Antony’s hands that he might revenge himself by putting them to death. Thus had vice and ambition robbed this Egyptian queen of all the charms of innocence and womanly tenderness, until she had become almost fiend-like in her cruelty and selfishness. Thus can the spirit of selfish ambition become a serpent in the heart, poisoning all its nobler aspirations. The beautiful, fascinating Cleopatra was fast becoming as great a monster of crime as her atrocious ancestors.

Adjoining the temple of Isis, Cleopatra had caused a magnificent tomb to be built for herself, and thither she ordered all her most precious treasures to be brought. She there stored her gold, silver, jewels, ebony, ivory, and a large quantity of costly perfumes and aromatic woods. She also sent to this mausoleum an immense quantity of flax, tow, torches, and other combustibles, which she ordered stored in the lower apartments of the tomb, that they might be in readiness should she determine to destroy herself and treasures by fire rather than allow them to fall into the hands of her enemies.

Cæsar, hearing of these preparations made by the Egyptian queen, was fearful lest she might escape him, with all her treasures, and constantly sent her messages offering her promises of generous treatment when he should reach Alexandria.

Antony, knowing nothing of this double dealing, prepared for a good defence. Cæsar had now advanced to the city, and encamped near the Hippodrome. Antony made a vigorous sally; and having severely repulsed the enemy, he returned victorious to the city. But this was the last effort of his expiring valor. On the morrow, after spending the night at a magnificent banquet provided by Cleopatra in honor of his recent success, Antony resolved to attack Cæsar by sea and land. Having drawn up his land force, he stood with them on an eminence, watching the advance of his galleys, which were to make the first attack. What was his horror and chagrin, however, to behold Cleopatra’s admiral strike his flag, and go over with his entire fleet to the enemy. This treason opened the eyes of Antony to the perfidy of the queen. With one expiring impulse of warlike valor, he sent to challenge Cæsar to single combat. But Cæsar sent answer, that if Antony was weary of life, there were other ways to die. Finding himself thus ridiculed by Cæsar and betrayed by Cleopatra, Antony rushed in wild rage to the palace to avenge himself upon the perfidious woman for whom he had bartered country and honor. Any excuse which we might have made for the actions of Cleopatra heretofore, on the plea that she was impelled by her mad love for Antony, can no longer shield her treachery and crime. It is poor Antony now who, in spite of all his outrageous conduct, claims our sympathy. He had bartered everything in life for the love of this woman, only to find himself basely deserted by her in his hour of greatest trouble. Her selfish ambition was paramount to her love, and overshadows her last days with infamy.

Cleopatra, foreseeing that Antony would seek her in a rage, upon discovering her treachery, had retired into her tomb, with two women attendants, and caused Antony to be told that she had killed herself. No sooner had Antony heard this news than his hate was again conquered by his love, and lamenting her death with sobs and tears, he shut himself up in his palace, with one slave, named Eros. He thereupon commanded Eros to plunge his dagger into his heart, as he no longer desired to live. But the faithful slave, unwilling to obey this dreadful command, took the dagger, but stabbed himself with it, and fell dead at his master’s feet. Antony then exclaimed, “Shall a slave and a woman teach me how to die!” and immediately thrust his sword into his side, and fell bleeding to the floor.

Just then an officer arrived, who had been sent by Cleopatra to inform him that she was not dead, as reported. As soon as Antony heard the beloved name of Cleopatra, he opened his dying eyes and begged to be taken to her, that he might expire in her arms. Bleeding and dying, he was carried to her tomb. Even then Cleopatra’s selfish fear overcame her love, and she would not allow the doors to be opened, lest her enemies might surprise her; but she appeared at a high window, from which she let down ropes to draw him up. Antony was made fast to the ropes by his attendants below, and then Cleopatra and her two women, who were the only persons with her in the tomb, endeavored to draw up the dying Antony. It was a piteous sight. With his eyes even now glazed in death, Antony cast an imploring look upon the face of the woman whom he loved more than life or earthly honors. The handsome face of the Egyptian queen was distorted by her grief and her severe efforts to draw up the bleeding body of the dying Antony. When they had lifted him within the window, Cleopatra laid him on a bed, and bathed the blood from his face, caressing him with fond kisses, and calling him endearing names. While she thus wailed and mourned, she cut off his hair, according to an Egyptian superstition that it afforded relief to the dying. Antony, recovering consciousness for a few moments, sought only to comfort her, telling her he died happy, as he was in her arms.

“And for thee, star-eyed Egyptian!
Glorious sorceress of the Nile,
Light the path to Stygian horrors
With the splendors of thy smile.
Give the Cæsar crowns and arches,
Let his brow the laurel twine;
I can scorn the Senate’s triumphs,
Triumphing in love like thine.
Isis and Osiris guard thee!
Cleopatra, Rome, farewell!”

Cæsar allowed Cleopatra to bury Antony with royal honors; and afterwards he went himself to pay her a visit. He found Cleopatra overwhelmed with grief. She had refused food, and endeavored to starve herself to death; but Cæsar had sent her word that he would put her children to death if she should harm herself, and so she had reluctantly allowed herself to be ministered unto by her physician. But she had bruised her face, arms, and breast in her paroxysms of grief, and when Cæsar entered her apartment, he was shocked at her appearance. Her hair was loose and disordered, her countenance wild and haggard, and her arms and breast horribly disfigured with wounds and bruises, while her former lustrous eyes were red and swollen by excessive weeping.

At first, Cleopatra endeavored to vindicate her conduct; but finding that Cæsar was not awed by her hitherto irresistible power, she broke down completely, and with tears and lamentations sought to appeal to his pity. Cæsar assured her that she would be treated with kindness and generosity, and he left her, thinking that she desired to live, and that his coming triumph would be graced by her presence.

“Octavius little knew the subtle intrigues of Cleopatra. She had deluded him; not he, her. The waning charms of Cleopatra, dimmed by grief and sorrow, might not appeal to the sensuous side of Octavius’s nature, but he was not proof against the subtle and practised skill of her mental abilities, by which she wielded the judgments of men according to her will.”

Cleopatra now determined to destroy herself, that she might not have to endure the ignominy of serving as an ornament to Cæsar’s triumphal celebrations when he returned to Rome. Once before, Cæsar had sent a messenger to speak with her at the door of her tomb, while a second officer placed a ladder against the wall and entered her window, as he had been ordered to search her apartment, lest she had some weapons concealed with which she might harm herself. Whereupon, one of her women cried out, “O unfortunate Cleopatra, you are taken!” Cleopatra, seeing the officers, drew a dagger from her girdle, and was about to stab herself, but the officer caught her arm and took from her the weapon, and afterwards searched the room and shook her robes, lest she should have concealed some other weapon or poison with which she could destroy herself. A guard was then set in her tomb, to watch her constantly. But with all these precautions, Cleopatra outwitted them. She sent to Cæsar, and begged that he would allow her to go and pay the last honors at the tomb of Antony and take her final leave of him.

Cæsar having granted this request, she went with her women, bearing chaplets and wreaths of flowers, which they placed upon the tomb amidst wailings and lamentations. When Cleopatra returned to her apartments after this sad ceremony, she appeared more composed than usual. After taking a bath, she arrayed herself with all her queenly magnificence; and having ordered a sumptuous repast, served with the customary splendor, she partook of it with seeming calmness.

Afterwards, ordering all attendants to retire from her presence, with the exception of two trusty waiting-women, she wrote a letter to Cæsar, and then asked for a basket of figs which a servant had just brought to her.

When the guards stopped him at the door, he displayed the fruit, and declared that the queen desired them for her dinner; and thus they were allowed to be sent in.

After Cleopatra had examined the figs, she laid down upon her couch, and soon after appeared to have fallen asleep. The poison from the bite of the asp, which had been carefully hidden amongst the figs, and which had stung her upon the arm, which she held to it for that purpose, immediately reached her heart, and killed her almost instantly, and without seeming pain.