The two friends sat down near the brazier, which filled the hall with warmth and the fragrance of incense. Octavius recounted what had just happened in the Senate. Mæcenas admitted that there were grave difficulties, but he contended that these were only temporary and that they could be adjusted. In Antony's present state of over-excitement he would undoubtedly do something to rouse keen disapproval, if not a serious disturbance. In the meantime Agrippa should make secret preparations for war, while Octavius devised some means of turning the tide of public opinion once more in his favour. A policy of strict conservatism, as opposed to the wild Egyptian schemes of Antony, seemed the wise move at the moment. The oldest temple in Rome, that built in the time of Romulus in honour of Jupiter Feretrius, was falling into ruins. Octavius must give orders for its reconstruction. He must also complete the building of the Pantheon, begun by Cæsar to the glory of Mars.
While the two friends were planning for the future, Athenodorus came in. His practical mind confirmed these suggestions. He proposed that they consider something to please the Plebeians, for their opinion carried great weight as to popularity. During the summer months the Roman populace suffered cruelly from scarcity of water. It would be an excellent device to repair the aqueduct of Marcia, and to open cheap baths, in order that the working classes might have the same comfort and refreshment that the Patricians enjoyed in their luxurious sudatoria.
These constructive works met Octavius's entire approval. In the near future they might prove to be his strongest support. But the moment was not propitious for the carrying out of the plans. He had barely had time to summon the architects and go over their drawings, when a thunderbolt fell!
Unknown to Cleopatra, Antony had always kept up friendly relations with Octavia. In the first place, he was really grateful for all the assistance that this noble woman had rendered him. In the second, he had the more powerful motive of expecting further services! They exchanged letters frequently, and, as the sister of Octavius, she could keep her husband fully informed of all that was going on in Rome. She was, in addition, the most desirable of mediators, for her delicate hands held the thread of communication between the brothers-in-law and she was careful not to break it off. She also constantly entertained a set of Antony's friends in her house on the Palatine hill, and these were always ready to discuss the virtues of their hero and do honour to him in his absence. With warm affection she had looked after the education not only of her own children, but of those that Fulvia had borne Antony as well.
Unlucky chance, or one of those acts of treachery that often occur in the nests of intrigue which form in kings' palaces, had thrown one of Antony's letters to his wife into the hands of Cleopatra. Its affectionate tone and the promise of a visit in the near future precipitated a crisis which was bound to come. In the Queen's heart, uneasy always with memories and fears, the arrow of jealousy struck deep. "After all he has promised me!" she cried bitterly. Then came the inevitable reaction, natural to a highly strung, nervous nature that could endure no grief, and again she cried: "I will have my revenge!"
Charmian, who never left her side, lived in a perpetual state of terror. She was divided between love for the Queen and dread of her passionate temperament that was always courting dramatic situations. Had not an augur predicted that the love affair of Antony and Cleopatra would end in blood? She longed to divert her beloved mistress from the passion that threatened to drive her mad. Kneeling before her, she laid her head on the Queen's trembling knees. "Why should you suffer thus?" she said. The girl felt her shoulder warm from the Queen's feverish touch. "If I could only hold that cursed woman here in my hands and by a thousand tortures make her expiate the sufferings she has brought me!" Cleopatra's voice shook with rage. Charmian tried to calm her, but the wound was already festering and the venom of hate was spreading through her veins. With a sudden frenzy she included the whole world in her vengeance as she swore: "I will go to Rome itself. I will compel Octavius and his sister to go to war, and with bound hands she shall follow my chariot to the Capitol!"
This extravagant fancy was distressing to Charmian. As in a mist she saw the deadly whirlpool sucking them all down in its depths. But wise counsel is impotent in dealing with a mind wild with jealous desire to seize and rend its prey. Charmian's gentle words were not regarded.
The afternoon was nearly over. The air grew less stifling and fresh puffs of fragrance were wafted in from the magnolia trees. All the shades of the rainbow shone in the sunset light. It was the hour when Antony, refreshed and perfumed, after his daily siesta, came to seek Cleopatra. She was lying on her couch and, annoyed at his being a little late for their rendezvous, she put her elbow on the sumptuous cushions and held her head as though it were heavy with aching. His step made her tremble, and she had a sullen, troubled expression that indicated a coming storm.
Antony had no chance to escape. The fatal letter, unrolled from its mother-of-pearl rod, lay on the table. For this letter, for his crime of being friendly with his faithful wife, he would have to pay dearly. As he drew near she overwhelmed him with a flood of violent reproaches. He was a man who could not keep his word. While she, happy in their being together, and awaiting impatiently the coming announcement of their marriage, was full of trust in him, he was playing her false, planning to leave her. He listened silently, and when her first outburst had subsided he tried to plead with her. The political situation compelled him to maintain cordial relations with the sister of Octavius, as she was the most valuable and dependable intermediary in his connections with the Government at Rome. Her help was necessary for the protection of his interests there. If he severed this alliance it would entail a war for which he was not prepared. But Cleopatra paid no heed. She was burning with jealousy and a desire for vengeance. She would put an end, once and for all, to this rival who had alienated Antony's affections. She would require that Antony, by an official repudiation of Octavia, should break the last bond that held him to the Occident, and thenceforth he should belong to her alone.
Antony was fresh from an interview with Ahenobarbus, who had arrived at Alexandria the day before, bringing news of the active campaign against him that was going on in Italy and warning him of the consequence of his continued stay in Egypt. If the thunderbolts that had been let loose in the Senate had been turned aside it was solely due to the loyalty of his friends there, but they had defended him because they were counting on his speedy return to Rome, on his skill in handling the situation when he came. They would brook no insult to his noble wife. She had the entire sympathy of the State and he would offend public opinion if he dared to put the Egyptian woman in her place. No one would come to his defence a second time. Patricians and Plebeians alike would be on the side of Octavius and his sister, and their warm sentiments would be roused in behalf of the abandoned wife and her children.