LXXVII.[468] When he learned that she was alive, he eagerly commanded his slaves to take him up, and he was carried in their arms to the doors of the chamber. Cleopatra did not open the doors, but she appeared at a window, from which she let down cords and ropes; and when the slaves below had fastened Antonius to them, she drew him up with the aid of the two women whom alone she had admitted into the tomb with her. Those who were present say that there never was a more piteous sight; for stained with blood and struggling with death he was hauled up, stretching out his hands to her, while he was suspended in the air. For the labour was not light for women, and Cleopatra with difficulty, holding with her hands and straining the muscles of her face, pulled up the rope, while those who were below encouraged her and shared in her agony. When she had thus got him in and laid him down, she rent her garments over him, and beating her breasts and scratching them with her hands, and wiping the blood off him with her face, she called him master and husband and Imperator; and she almost forgot her own misfortunes through pity for his. Antonius, stopping her lamentations, asked for wine to drink, whether it was that he was thirsty or that he expected to be released more speedily. When he had drunk it, he advised her, if it could be done with decency, to look after the preservation of her own interests, and to trust to Procleius[469] most of the companions of Cæsar; and not to lament him for his last reverses, but to think him happy for the good things that he had obtained, having become the most illustrious of men and had the greatest power, and now not ignobly a Roman by a Roman vanquished.
LXXVIII. Just as Antonius died, Procleius came from Cæsar;[470] for after Antonius had wounded himself and was carried to Cleopatra, Derketæus, one of his guards, taking his dagger and concealing it, secretly made his way from the palace, and running to Cæsar, was the first to report the death of Antonius, and he showed the blood-stained dagger. When Cæsar heard the news, he retired within his tent and wept for a man who had been related to him by marriage, and his colleague in command, and his companion in many struggles and affairs. He then took the letters that had passed between him and Antonius, and calling his friends, read them, in order to show in what a reasonable and fair tone he had written himself, and how arrogant and insolent Antonius had always been in his answers. Upon this he sent Procleius with orders, if possible, above all things to secure Cleopatra alive; for he was afraid about the money, and he thought it a great thing for the glory of his triumph to lead her in the procession. However Cleopatra would not put herself in the hands of Procleius; but they talked together while he was standing on the outside close to the building near a door on a level with the ground, which was firmly secured, but allowed a passage for the voice. In their conversation Cleopatra entreated that her children might have the kingdom, and Procleius bade her be of good cheer and trust to Cæsar in all things.
LXXIX. After Procleius had inspected the place and reported to Cæsar, Gallus[471] was sent to have another interview with her; and having come to the door he purposely prolonged the conversation. In the meantime Procleius applied a ladder and got through the window by which the women took in Antonius; and he immediately went down with two slaves to the door at which Cleopatra stood with her attention directed to Gallus. One of the women who were shut up with Cleopatra called out, “Wretched Cleopatra, you are taken alive,” on which she turned round, and seeing Procleius, attempted to stab herself, for she happened to have by her side a dagger such as robbers wear: but Procleius, quickly running up to her and holding her with both his hands, said, “You wrong yourself, Cleopatra, and Cæsar too by attempting to deprive him of the opportunity of a noble display of magnanimity and to fix on the mildest of commanders the stigma of faithlessness and implacability.” At the same time he took away her dagger and shook her dress to see if she concealed any poison. There was also sent from Cæsar one of his freedmen, Epaphroditus, whose orders were to watch over her life with great care, but as to the rest to give way in all things that would make her most easy and be most agreeable to her.
LXXX. Cæsar entered the city talking with Areius the philosopher, and he had given Areius[472] his right hand, that he might forthwith be conspicuous among the citizens and be admired on account of the special respect that he received from Cæsar. Entering the gymnasium and ascending a tribunal that was made for him, the people the while being terror-struck and falling down before him, he bade them get up, and he said that he acquitted the people of all blame, first on account of the founder Alexander, second because he admired the beauty and magnitude of the city, and third, to please his friend Areius. Such honour Areius obtained from Cæsar, and he got the pardon of many others; and among them was Philostratus,[473] a man of all sophists the most competent to speak on the sudden, but one who claimed to be of the Academy without just grounds. Wherefore Cæsar, who abominated his habits, would not listen to his entreaties. But Philostratus, letting his white beard grow and putting on a dark vest, followed behind Areius, continually uttering this verse:
Wise save the wise, if wise indeed they be.
Cæsar hearing of this, pardoned Philostratus, wishing rather to release Areius from odium than Philostratus from fear.
LXXXI. Of the children of Antonius, Antyllus,[474] the son of Fulvia, was given up by his pædagogus Theodorus and put to death; and when the soldiers had cut off his head, the pædagogus took the most precious stone which he wore about his neck and sewed it in his belt; and though he denied the fact, he was convicted of it and crucified. The children of Cleopatra were guarded together with those who had charge of them, and they had a liberal treatment; but as to Cæsarion, who was said to be Cleopatra’s son by Cæsar, her mother sent him to India with much treasure by way of Ethiopia; but another pædagogus like Theodorus, named Rhodon, persuaded him to return, saying that Cæsar invited him to take the kingdom. While Cæsar was deliberating about Cæsarion, it is said that Areius observed: “Tis no good thing, a multitude of Cæsars.”[475]
LXXXII. Now Cæsar put Cæsarion to death after the death of Cleopatra. Though many asked for the body of Antonius to bury it, both kings and commanders, Cæsar did not take it from Cleopatra, but it was interred by her own hands sumptuously and royally, and she received for that purpose all that she wished. In consequence of so much grief and pain, for her breasts were inflamed by the blows that she had inflicted and were sore, and a fever coming on, she gladly availed herself of this pretext for abstaining from food and with the design of releasing herself from life without hindrance. There was a physician with whom she was familiar, Olympus, to whom she told the truth, and she had him for her adviser and assistant in accomplishing her death, as Olympus said in a history of these transactions which he published. Cæsar suspecting her design, plied her with threats and alarms about her children, by which Cleopatra was thrown down as by engines of war, and she gave up her body to be treated and nourished as it was wished.
LXXXIII. Cæsar himself came a few days after to see her and pacify her.[476] Cleopatra happened to be lying on a mattress meanly dressed, and as he entered she sprang up in a single vest and fell at his feet with her head and face in the greatest disorder, her voice trembling and her eyes weakened by weeping. There were also visible many marks of the blows inflicted on her breast; and in fine her body seemed in no respect to be in better plight than her mind. Yet that charm and that saucy confidence in her beauty were not completely extinguished, but, though she was in such a condition, shone forth from within and showed themselves in the expression of her countenance. When Cæsar had bid her lie down and had seated himself near her, she began to touch upon a kind of justification, and endeavoured to turn all that had happened upon necessity and fear of Antonius; but as Cæsar on each point met her with an answer, being confuted, she all at once changed her manner to move him by pity and by prayers, as a person would do who clung most closely to life. Finally she handed to him a list of all the treasures that she had; and when Seleukus, one of her stewards, declared that she was hiding and secreting some things, she sprang up and laying hold of his hair, belaboured him with many blows on the face. As Cæsar smiled and stopped her, she said, “But is it not scandalous, Cæsar, that you have condescended to come to me and speak to me in my wretched condition, and my slaves make it a matter of charge against me if I have reserved some female ornaments, not for myself forsooth, wretch that I am, but that I may give a few things to Octavia and your wife Livia, and so through their means make you more favourable to me and more mild.” Cæsar was pleased with these words, being fully assured that she wished to live. Accordingly, after saying that he left these matters to her care and that in everything else he would behave to her better than she expected, he went away, thinking that he had deceived her; but he had deceived himself.
LXXXIV. Now there was Cornelius Dolabella,[477] a youth of rank, and one of the companions[478] of Cæsar. He was not without a certain liking towards Cleopatra; and now, in order to gratify her request, he secretly sent and informed her that Cæsar himself was going to march with his troops through Syria, and that he had determined to send off her with her children on the third day. On hearing this, Cleopatra first entreated Cæsar to permit her to pour libations on the tomb of Antonius; and when Cæsar permitted it, she went to the tomb, and embracing the coffin in company with the women who were usually about her, said, “Dear Antonius, I buried thee recently with hands still free, but now I pour out libations as a captive and so watched that I cannot either with blows or sorrow disfigure this body of mine now made a slave and preserved to form a part in the triumph over thee. But expect not other honours or libations, for these are the last which Cleopatra brings. Living, nothing kept us asunder, but there is a risk of our changing places in death; thou a Roman, lying buried here, and I, wretched woman, in Italy, getting only as much of thy country as will make me a grave. But if indeed there is any help and power in the gods there (for the gods of this country have deserted us), do not deliver thy wife up alive, and let not thyself be triumphed over in me, but hide me here with thee and bury thee with me; for though I have ten thousand ills, not one of them is so great and grievous as this short time which I have lived apart from thee!”