But in this instance Cleopatra did not make the usual conquest, though she doubtless exerted all her powers. Although (under unjust accusation) he was eventually persuaded to put her to death, Herod was at that time passionately attached to his wife, Mariamme, and withstood Cleopatra’s fascinations. The reunion of Antony and Cleopatra was most alarming to him, and he even consulted his council as to whether she, being in his power, he might dare to make away with her, but the dread of Antony’s vengeance prevented, and with much polite attention and many gifts, she was escorted back to Egypt.
Antony’s campaign against Parthia was a failure, but as before two women stood ready to assist him. Cleopatra on the one hand, accused of having violated tombs and robbed temples, perhaps for this very purpose, hastened to Syria to meet him, with provisions and clothing for his distressed army, while on the other Octavia came to Athens with even larger supplies. But as against Fulvia, so now, Cleopatra was victor, and Antony accompanied her to Alexandria. Again he gave himself up to his mad infatuation, incensing the Romans (who regarded Cleopatra with horror and aversion) at every step.
Plutarch gives us a graphic picture: “Assembling the people in the exercise grounds and causing two golden thrones to be placed on a platform of silver, the one for him, the other for Cleopatra, and at their feet lower down for their children, he proclaimed Cleopatra Queen of Egypt, Cyprus, Libya and Coele-Syria, and with her co-jointly Caesarion, the reported son of the former Caesar. His own sons by Cleopatra (she bore him two sons and a daughter) were to have the style of ‘king of kings;’ to Alexander he gave Armenia and Media, with Parthia, so soon as it should be overcome; to Ptolemy, Phœnicia, Syria and Cilicia. Alexander was brought before the people in Median costume, the tiara and upright peak, and Ptolemy in boots and mantle and Macedonian cap, done about with the diadem, for this was the habit of the successors of Alexander, as the other was of the Medes and Armenians. As soon as they had saluted their parents the one was received by a guard of Macedonians, the other by one of Armenians.” Cleopatra was then, as at other times when she appeared in public, dressed in the habit of the goddess Isis.
These theatrical performances were doubtless entertaining to the people, who, in all countries, love public shows, as well to the principals who never seemed to tire of their masquerading and lulled to rest complaints and dissatisfaction, with the existing order of things. For now Antony and Cleopatra proceeded to Athens to enact similar scenes. The people there were said to be attached to and to have paid great regard to Octavia, and Cleopatra claimed the like honors.
But the folly of Antony’s course was raising against him a powerful faction, and Cæsar Octavian did everything to augment this feeling and prepared for war. Cleopatra now put all the resources of her kingdom at Antony’s command and insisted on accompanying him to battle, herself in charge of the Egyptian fleet. They went to Samos and to Actium, where Antony gathered together his army and it is said would have fought on land, but Cleopatra insisted that the strength of the rivals should be tested at sea. One dominant thought possessed her, as strong, or stronger, than her love for Antony—it was an invincible dread of being taken captive by and made to grace the triumph of the brother of the outraged Octavia. At sea she might hope to escape as she could not on land. It was this doubtless, more than cowardice, for however wicked she certainly was a brave woman and not lacking in physical courage, that made her at the first evidence that the battle was going against Antony, turn her vessel’s prow and seek safety in flight.
Losing heart and head at once Antony blindly followed. For years Cleopatra had been his inspiration, his passion, his lode-star; where else to fly he knew not, his old world was, all too deservedly, against him. Yet it was not now for joyance that he sought, though he followed her; he steeled his heart against her sorceries, and shut himself up in morbid communings with his own spirit. He would not see her and for some time it was in vain that her maidens pleaded with and tried to comfort him.
It seemed for the moment as if Cleopatra’s power, she who “governed men by change” had failed. Her heart cried out,
“Where is Mark Antony?
The man my lover with whom I rode sublime
On Fortune’s neck; we sat as god by god;