Never had the treacherous Mediterranean been clearer or more tranquil. The blue of sea and sky were blended in soft tones of azure. At sunset amber-coloured ripples passed over its surface, mingled with waves of rose. The sound of the wind in the sails toned in with the music from lyres and flutes. Nights of love followed the joyous days, and there was no hint of the fierce storm that was advancing toward the frail vessel.
This was only a prelude. At Samos, where they landed, at Ephesus, where they remained for some time, the lovers took up again the pomp and festivals of Alexandria. The old Asiatic town, accustomed though it was to luxury, had never seen such displays as these. Cortèges of kings, crowned with tiaras and clad in embroidered robes, came every day to Antony, bringing soldiers, horses, provisions, everything that could contribute to the success of his campaign. Desirous that they should carry back to their own countries an exalted impression of their sovereign, Cleopatra made every effort to outshine them. Each new arrival served as a pretext for a sumptuous display. Spectacle followed spectacle, and princes coming from distant lands to do battle were astonished to find, side by side with the iron-covered chests, brass chariots, and death-dealing engines, troops of acrobats, mountebanks, and their paraphernalia, totally out of place in camp life.
At the hour when the whole world was straining under the weight of armaments, when masses of people were on the point of collapse, when the fate of empires was in the balance, this was the way that the mistress of Mark Antony chose to flaunt her overweening faith that the victory would be hers.
Antony was far from sharing her confidence. The time for frivolity was over. He recognized the perils of his position. Divided between the urgent pleas of his comrades-in-arms, urging him to carry the war at once into Italy and give battle there before Octavius had time to concentrate his forces, and the fair sorceress who was coaxing him to dally, he was pulled both ways. It was a tremendous game and the chances were not in his favour. To play it successfully cool judgment was essential; and that had never been his strong point. The nervous excitement of his life with Cleopatra and the amorous demands of her jealous despotism had robbed him of what little he possessed. His generals added to his perplexities. They were convinced that their Imperator would never lead them to victory as long as he was under the malign influence of this woman, and they determined to compel her to leave the camp.
Ahenobarbus, as always, had the most courage and he took the initiative. He had an interview with the Queen, and, knowing the value of his disinterested services, he made no pretence of flattery, but declared brusquely that the confusion which her presence and that of the court was creating exceeded even his worst fears, and that her proper place was at Alexandria, where her ministers were calling for her. Although Antony was of the same mind, he was powerless against the beguilements of a mistress who responded to his most earnest arguments by embraces, kisses, and tears.
Cleopatra was more unwilling than ever to leave Antony exposed to the reproaches of those austere Romans who surrounded him. Harrowed by their insistence, would he be able to resist that reconciliation with Octavius which she knew many of them desired to bring about? In order to go on with her role of the warlike Egeria, some support was necessary. This she obtained, by promises and cajolings, from Canidius, the general who had most influence with Antony. He took the opposite side from that of Ahenobarbus, declaring that it was neither just nor wise to banish an ally whose gold, ships, and soldiers formed such an important part of their army; and, with the suavity of a courtier, added that he could not see how the counsels of a great Queen, who was as noble and brave as she was beautiful, could possibly harm an army whose courage she upheld by her own.
The opposing party was not beaten. The most ardent among them was Quintus Dellius, for he had all of Antony's interests at heart. This wise old juggler in politics had seen very quickly the schemes of the Egyptian and had realized that they were entirely contrary to his own advantage and that of his fellow Romans. He decided that at all hazards he would save his chief from his present peril, and without circumlocution he said:
"Cleopatra is leading us to ruin!"
Enraged at this accusation of the woman who held his heart as well as his reason in her hands, Antony cried:
"What are you saying? What right have you to make such an assertion?"