leon, he had a vein of
florid eloquence which was criticized by literary men, but which went
straight to the heart of the private soldier. In a word, he was a
powerful, virile, passionate, able man, rough, as were nearly all his
countrymen, but strong and true.
It was to this general that Cleopatra was to answer, and with a firm
reliance on the charms which had subdued Antony's great commander,
Caesar, she set out in person for Cilicia, in Asia Minor, sailing up
the river Cydnus to the place where Antony was encamped with his army.
Making all allowance for the exaggeration of historians, there can be
no doubt that she appeared to him like some dreamy vision. Her barge was
gilded, and was wafted on its way by swelling sails of Tyrian purple.
The oars which smote the water were of shining silver. As she drew
near the Roman general's camp the languorous music of flutes and harps
breathed forth a strain of invitation.
Cleopatra herself lay upon a divan set upon the deck of the barge
beneath a canopy of woven gold. She was dressed to resemble Venus, while
girls about her personated nymphs and Graces. Delicate perfumes diffused
themselves from the vessel; and at last, as she drew near the shore, all
the people for miles about were gathered there, leaving Antony to sit
alone in the tribunal where he was dispensing justice.
Word was brought to him that Venus had come to feast with Bacchus.
Antony, though still suspicious of Cleopatra, sent her an invitation
to dine with him in state. With graceful tact she sent him a
counter-invitation, and he came. The magnificence of his reception
dazzled the man who had so long known only a soldier's fare, or at
most the crude entertainments which he had enjoyed in Rome. A marvelous
display of lights was made. Thousands upon thousands of candles shone
brilliantly, arranged in squares and circles; while the banquet itself
was one that symbolized the studied luxury of the East.
At this time Cleopatra was twenty-seven years of age--a period of life
which modern physiologists have called the crisis in a woman's growth.
She had never really loved before, since she had given herself to
Caesar, not because she cared for him, but to save her kingdom. She now
came into the presence of one whose manly beauty and strong passions
were matched by her own subtlety and appealing charm.
When Antony addressed her he felt himself a rustic in her presence.
Almost resentful, he betook himself to the c
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