Plutarch: Lives of the noble Grecians and Romans
In the first battle, Caesar was completely routed by Brutus, his
camp taken, he himself very narrowly escaping by flight. As he
himself writes in his Memoirs, he retired before the battle, on
account of a dream which one of his friends had. But Antony, on
the other hand, defeated Cassius; though some have written that
he was not actually present in the engagement, and only joined
afterwards in the pursuit. Cassius was killed, at his own
entreaty and order, by one of his most trusted freedmen,
Pindarus, not being aware of Brutus's victory. After a few
days' interval, they fought another battle, in which Brutus lost
the day, and slew himself; and Caesar being sick, Antony had
almost all the honor of the victory. Standing over Brutus's
dead body, he uttered a few words of reproach upon him for the
death of his brother Caius, who had been executed by Brutus's
order in Macedonia in revenge of Cicero; but, saying presently
that Hortensius was most to blame for it, he gave order for his
being slain upon his brother's tomb, and, throwing his own
scarlet mantle, which was of great value, upon the body of
Brutus, he gave charge to one of his own freedmen to take care
of his funeral. This man, as Antony came to understand, did not
leave the mantle with the corpse, but kept both it and a good
part of the money that should have been spent in the funeral for
himself; for which he had him put to death.
But Caesar was conveyed to Rome, no one expecting that he would
long survive. Antony, proposing to go to the eastern provinces
to lay them under contribution, entered Greece with a large
force. The promise had been made that every common soldier
should receive for his pay five thousand drachmas; so it was
likely there would be need of pretty severe taxing and levying
to raise money. However, to the Greeks he showed at first
reason and moderation enough; he gratified his love of amusement
by hearing the learned men dispute, by seeing the games, and
undergoing initiation; and in judicial matters he was equitable,
taking pleasure in being styled a lover of Greece, but, above
all, in being called a lover of Athens, to which city he made
very considerable presents. The people of Megara wished to let
him know that they also had something to show him, and invited
him to come and see their senate-house. So he went and examined
it, and on their asking him how he liked it, told them it was
"not very large, but extremely ruinous." At the same time, he
had a survey made of the temple of the Pythian Apollo, as if he
had designed to repair it, and indeed he had declared to the
senate his intention so to do.
However, leaving Lucius Censorinus in Greece, he crossed over
into Asia, and there laid his hands on the stores of accumulated
wealth, while kings waited at his door, and queens were rivaling
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 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 psaltries, while
Antony in their songs was Bacchus the Giver of Joy and the
Gentle. And so indeed he was to some, but to far more the
Devourer and the Savage; for he would deprive persons of worth
and quality of their fortunes to gratify villains and
flatterers, who would sometimes beg the estates of men yet
living, pretending they were dead, and, obtaining a grant, take
possession. He gave his cook the house of a Magnesian citizen,
as a reward for a single highly successful supper, and, at last,
when he was proceeding to lay a second whole tribute on Asia,
Hybreas, speaking on behalf of the cities, took courage, and
told him broadly, but aptly enough for Antony's taste, "If you
can take two yearly tributes, you can doubtless give us a couple
of summers, and a double harvest time;" and put it to him in the
plainest and boldest way, that Asia had raised two hundred
thousand talents for his service: "If this has not been paid to
you, ask your collectors for it; if it has, and is all gone, we
are ruined men." These words touched Antony to the quick, who
was simply ignorant of most things that were done in his name;
not that he was so indolent, as he was prone to trust frankly in
all about him. For there was much simplicity in his character;
he was slow to see his faults, but, when he did see them, was
extremely repentant, and ready to ask pardon of those he had
injured; prodigal in his acts of reparation, and severe in his
punishments, but his generosity was much more extravagant than
his severity; his raillery was sharp and insulting, but the edge
of it was taken off by his readiness to submit to any kind of
repartee; for he was as well contented to be rallied, as he was
pleased to rally others. And this freedom of speech was,
indeed, the cause of many of his disasters. He never imagined
that those who used so much liberty in their mirth would flatter
or deceive him in business of consequence, not knowing how
common it is with parasites to mix their flattery with boldness,
as confectioners do their sweetmeats with something biting, to
prevent the sense of satiety. Their freedoms and impertinences
at table were designed expressly to give to their obsequiousness
in council the air of being not complaisance, but conviction.
Such being his temper, the last and crowning mischief that could
befall him came in the love of Cleopatra, to awaken and kindle
to fury passions that as yet lay still and dormant in his
nature, and to stifle and finally corrupt any elements that yet
made resistance in him, of goodness and a sound judgment. He
fell into the snare thus. When making preparation for the
Parthian war, he sent to command her to make her personal
appearance in Cilicia, to answer an accusation, that she had
given great assistance, in the late wars, to Cassius. Dellius,
who was sent on this message, had no sooner seen her face, and
remarked her adroitness and subtlety in speech, but he felt
convinced that Antony would not so much as think of giving any
molestation to a woman like this; on the contrary, she would be
the first in 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. 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 it, that he was himself the first to jest and mock
at his poverty of wit, and his rustic awkwardness. She,
perceiving that his raillery was broad and gross, and savored
more of the soldier than the courtier, rejoined in the same
taste, and fell into it at once, without any sort of reluctance
or reserve. For her actual beauty, it is said, was not in
itself so remarkable that none could be compared with her, or
that no one could see her without being struck by it, but the
contact of her presence, if you lived with her, was
irresistible; the attraction of her person, joining with the
charm of her conversation, and the character that attended all
she said or did, was something bewitching. It was a pleasure
merely to hear the sound of her voice, with which, like an
instrument of many strings, she could pass from one language to
another; so that there were few of the barbarian nations that
she answered by an interpreter; to most of them she spoke
herself, as to the Ethiopians, Troglodytes, Hebrews, Arabians,
Syrians, Medes, Parthians, and many others, whose language she
had learnt; which was all the more surprising, because most of
the kings her predecessors scarcely gave themselves the trouble
to acquire the Egyptian tongue, and several of them quite
abandoned the Macedonian.
Antony was so captivated by her, that, while Fulvia his wife
maintained his quarrels in Rome against Caesar by actual force
of arms, and the Parthian troops, commanded by Labienus (the
king's generals having made him commander-in-chief), were
assembled in Mesopotamia, and ready to enter Syria, he could yet
suffer himself to be carried away by her to Alexandria, there to
keep holiday, like a boy, in play and diversion, squandering and
fooling away in enjoyments that most costly, as Antiphon says,
of all valuables, time. They had a sort of company, to which
they gave a particular name, calling it that of the Inimitable
Livers. The members entertained one another daily in turn, with
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