Memoirs of Cleopatra (1997)

by Margaret George

  "Oh, not more things," he protested. "I've seen enough for one day."

  But I slipped off the couch and brought over an inlaid box, which was fastened with a bronze lock. Opening it, I flung off the top and let him see the mound of jewels inside--pearls, emeralds, coral.

  "Put your hand in it," I said, taking it and plunging it in. The smooth stones slipped around his fingers, and as he withdrew them, some gems bounced onto the floor. I did not pick them up.

  "I have many more like this," I told him. "And there are storerooms of rare woods, ivory, silver, and gold. They will go with me into my tomb."

  "Unless?" he said. "For you are not parading this out if you have truly decided, once and for all, to hide it away."

  "Unless I can put all these resources to a better purpose," I said.

  "Like what?" He sounded only vaguely curious.

  "Let me buy us the world instead."

  He laughed. "I told you already, I don't want the world. And if I did, you couldn't buy it."

  "I can buy armies, and armies can buy a world." I let that statement lie there for him to ponder. "Just think, no more constraints. No haggling with Octavian about this legion or that, or who gets such-and-such ship. It can all be yours."

  "And your price? For I am sure you do not offer this gratis."

  Now he was beginning to sound like a merchant, although he seemed strangely ungreedy to grasp what I was dangling before him.

  "I wish to change places with Octavian," I finally said.

  He roared with laughter. "And wear his sun hats and chest flannels? The summer sun is too hot for him, and the winter chill too cruel, so he has to protect himself before venturing out. He is quite a sight."

  "And is such a man suited to rule the whole world? A little man who cannot face the sun or wind?" And wore built-up sandals, I remembered. "He imagines himself to be Caesar's heir, but he is no such thing! Yet if you allow him to, he will grow and grow, like a mushroom spreading out in the dark. And you'll awake to find yourself uprooted, toppled, while he flourishes." I paused. Antony was listening attentively. "Pull him out while you still can. For it is certain that he means to do the same to you." .

  Was I making any sense to him? I had to continue. "The world is already under the sway of Rome. Make the transition easy. Form a partnership with me as your wife. I can administer the east, while you shepherd the west. Alexandria is ideally situated to rule the entire Mediterranean. And we have the resources, as you saw today."

  "So that was what that little show was all about?" he said. "I knew it was not just sightseeing." His voice had an ugly edge to it. "I could almost suspect you of planning all this from the beginning--maybe your trip to Tarsus and bringing me back here was just another show."

  This was not going as I wished. "No--that isn't true!" I said. "I admit I was proud of Egypt and wanted to show you my country. And I wanted to be with you a little longer. But I did not plan what would happen once you were here."

  "You lured me here, after driving me mad with your devices--your costumes and perfumes and lights and other tricks. You made a fool of me, and you loved it," he snapped. "It made you feel powerful. You would probably have responded exactly the same if it had been Octavian instead of me. You just like to ensnare men--and you don't care how you do it."

  How dare he imply that I would take just anybody? Octavian!

  "At Tarsus, you said it wasn't the dinner on the ship; it went a long way back," I countered.

  "Yes, because you always made it your business to make men want you."

  I could not help laughing. "Then the desire arose from within yourself. When I was in Rome, I was entirely Caesar's, and when you first came to Alexandria, I was only fourteen and more concerned with survival than anything else. I was not on the lookout for men."

  "Maybe you can't help it, but that's the effect you have!"

  Now I understood. He was jealous and wanted reassurance. How fragile men were! Only Caesar had been exempt from this weakness.

  I reached out to touch his face, but he swatted my hand away, and sat pouting on the couch.

  "Now you try to entice me into betraying my word. I have sworn an oath to uphold the Triumvirate," he insisted. "A man is only as good as his word."

  "No, I have offered you my life, and all of Egypt. Is this to be scorned? I am Egypt--all its riches are mine, every palm tree and ripple in the Nile. What you saw today is the last unplundered treasure of the east. I offer it to you--something that has never been offered to anyone else in history. Many generals have come and tried to take it. I offer it to you, free. Instead you insult me and cry, 40 Octavian! O the Triumvirate!' Well, you are right about one thing--if I ever did make such an offer to Octavian, he wouldn't be such a fool as to turn his back on it. Your precious Triumvirate wouldn't last an eyeblink with him in the balance." I paused to catch my breath. "So you are a fool--not for coming here, but for turning away from this offer."

  He seized on the word fool. "So I'm a fool? That's what you think of me! Well, I've sense enough to steer clear of this trap you've set, this trap that betrays every sense of honor. No, I won't be your partner; no, I won't go back on my word."

  At that moment I debated with myself, because I still withheld one vital piece of information from him: the fact that I now knew for a certainty that I was with child. If I told him, he might reconsider.

  But I looked into his eyes, full of scorn and turmoil, and I knew I would not tell him. He had spumed my offer, insulted my honor, flung hurtful accusations at me. Now would I say, "Oh, by the way--" No, never!

  It was the worst decision I ever made, for it brought much sorrow upon us. But for women, too, a momentary pride can be the strongest of all pulls. And so I clamped my lips shut and turned away from him. I bent down and retrieved the jewel box, and with all the self-control at my command, walked straight-backed out of the room.

  Of course, later that night he came to my chamber, penitent. He knocked on the door and begged to be admitted. He embraced me and put his head in my lap and almost wept, saying he had not meant it. But he must have meant some of it, or the words would not have sprung so readily to his lips. He had revealed himself as a cauldron of jealousy and confusion, as well as a quaint sort of honor--he had no compunction about betraying his wife, but shrank with horror from betraying Octavian.

  "Forgive me, forgive me," he cried, clasping me, burrowing his head against my thighs and stomach. "I just--I just--"

  I smoothed his hair, feeling oddly detached. He had hurt me badly by his accusations. That he would think those things of me, even in one corner of his mind, stung. "There, there," I heard myself saying, mechanically. "It doesn't matter."

  "Yes, yes, it does!" His voice sounded tormented. "Something came over me, I don't know, I didn't mean it--you know I love you!"

  "Yes, of course." I still felt remote. It was important to calm him. "Don't think of it."

  "You must believe me!"

  "Yes, yes, of course. Of course I believe you." This was awful; I wished he would leave.

  He rose up and kissed me, but I found I didn't want him even to touch me. Still, I did not push him away. That would just have made it worse, excited his suspicions further.

  "Show me that you do," he was saying. I knew what he wanted. There was no escape--I would have to bear it.

  "Yes, of course," I said, taking his hand, and leading him to his favorite place, my bed.

  He was a frantic lover, driven almost mad, it seemed, by his own torment and guilt and jealousy. Ordinarily it would have been supremely satisfying, but I kept out of it, so to speak. I did not allow myself to take any enjoyment from it, because my hurt was too deep to be plastered over by a few kisses and caresses.

  When he finally left, I rolled over and watched his retreating back, thinking, Tonight you have thrown away the world.

  Chapter 48.

  On the surface, things continued as usual. The bedroom visit seemed to have satisfied Antony, and he went back t
o his bluff self, laughing, drinking, playing with the Incomparables. He assumed I was likewise soothed and happy. The evening, and the things we had said, were never mentioned.

  Bulletins from the outside world kept coming in, and he was forced to acknowledge them. Late at night, returning from his days of pleasure, he would stay up reading them, alone and in the silence of his room. I would see the lights burning, and know that he was troubled with the news. Sometimes he would come and spend the rest of the night with me, never alluding to the contents of the letters. But I had my own sources of information, and I knew well enough that the Roman world was in turmoil. Perusia had fallen, and Octavian was merciless in punishing those who had rebelled against "the authority of the Triumvirate." Scores of people were executed, and the ancient town was burned to ashes. Lucius had been captured, but Fulvia had escaped, along with Antony's general Munatius Plancus. Where, they were going, no one knew.

  In the meantime, Antony kept practicing at arms--a good sign--and sending out letters.

  Although I was determined not to speak of the night we had quarreled so bitterly, the words clung in my mind. I kept going over them, brooding on them. But I kept it to myself.

  One afternoon I happened to be present when a letter arrived for him, and it would have been so awkward to refuse to open it that Antony went ahead. Then politeness decreed that he let me read it. He was clearly reluctant to do so, but made the best of it.

  It was an overture from Sextus Pompey, seeking to make an alliance with Antony against Octavian.

  "I offer protection for all those fleeing from the tyrant," he wrote. "Your most noble mother Julia, Tiberius Nero, his wife Livia, and their little son Tiberius have had to seek safety with me, along with many of the oldest names in Rome. They do not wish to bend the knee to that boy--that boy who styles himself ruler, calls himself Caesar's son. In your absence he has done many illegal things. Join with me, throw your lot in with mine, and together we can rid Rome of this menace."

  I knew better than to concur. I merely handed the letter back to Antony. "It seems that the entire world seeks to ally itself with you," I said lightly.

  "And not only he, but Lepidus has approached me as well," he admitted.

  "A noble Triumvir, sounding out one of his fellows?" I am afraid the mockery crept into my voice. "What can have possessed him?"

  Antony shrugged. "He has ever been unreliable. He says one thing one day, another the next." He stood up. "Come, the sun is shining. I think the winter is truly past. Let's go fishing on Lake Mareotis. You promised we would--you said there was fine fishing, and boat parties go out among the reeds and papyrus, and there's beer and singing in the villages--"

  I sighed. "I suppose you want to invite a party?"

  "Well, isn't that what such a day is meant for?"

  Three houseboats filled with merrymakers bumped along in the shallow water of the great freshwater lake that stretched behind Alexandria. It was a strangely shaped lake, with its main body south of Alexandria, while a long, thin arm reached westward almost fifty miles. Vineyards lined the south banks, producing some of Egypt's finest wines. Other crops covered the shores: olives, figs, dates, apple orchards. At the very water's edge, papyrus plantations extended out some way. This was the source of our finest grade of papyrus. There were also bean plantations, with the huge stalks growing ten feet high and the cup-shaped leaves providing shelter for boat parties and lovers.

  It was March, the Egyptian month of Tybi, and the vegetation was in bloom: The beans had opened their creamy flowers, the white and blue lotus were rising out of the water, and the pale petals of the almonds on the shore were already scattering on the wind. The sun felt warm on our shoulders, and Antony was in high spirits.

  Time and again he cast his line out into the open water, baited with plump small fish; time and again he hauled in his hook, empty. The company we had with us--Charmian and Flavius, some of his guard, their women--began to taunt him.

  "Good Imperator," they singsang, "how pitiful is this!"

  Antony, growing ever more exasperated, threw out his line repeatedly. He attempted to joke about it, and called for us to go ashore and eat and drink in one of the little villages lining the shore of the lake.

  A number of them, all friendly and inviting, lay stretched out in the sun, sloping back from the lakeshore. We piled ashore, tying up at one of the rickety docks. I was just another woman at the tavern--gods forbid they should know I was the Queen.

  But there was no mistaking Antony. He was as different from his fellows as gold from gold paint. When he seated himself, it was with a certain careless nobility that caused eyes to light on him; in spite of his fisherman's costume, everyone in the establishment became aware that this was no ordinary man. Then their attention turned to his companion, me. But I kept my peasant's hat low and said little. No ordinary person can appreciate what a gift it is for those of us in power to venture out as one of them. Liberty! For we are imprisoned by our very selves all the days of our lives. Here, too, Antony had freed me from my former restrictions.

  "Wine for all!" ordered Antony. "Unless you are known for your beer?"

  The proprietor bowed. "Indeed, this is a renowned brewing district."

  "Then bring us your specialty, in jugs! And perhaps some roasted duck, and fish. I suppose the fish are biting well in this season?"

  "Oh yes," said the tavern owner. "Our catches have been phenomenal in the past few days."

  I reached out and touched Antony's arm. "You must be using the wrong bait," I said.

  "Surely so," he said, shaking his head.

  A heap of fish arrived on a platter, and pieces of duck. Already the beer pitchers had been filled to overflowing. "To my catch!" said Antony, raising his glass.

  The food was delicious. I wondered how many palace banquets would pale beside what a waterside tavern like this could provide. The white-fleshed fish was moist and delicately flavored, and the duck had a rich, smoky taste, boosted by the plum gravy served with it. Antony wolfed his, washing it down with draughts of beer.

  I looked at him from under my broad-brimmed hat. What I saw was an eager, yearning face, younger than its years, with bright, dark eyes. I reached out and laid my hand on his arm, wishing there were some way I could hold him at this stage in his life forever. My anger at him faded in the sunlight of this, his glorious day.

  The meal ended, and we returned to our boats. The vessels made their way uncertainly through the thickets of papyrus and tall bean plants, poled by our mariners under the green umbrella of leaves and buzzing insects into the open water.

  "Well, now!" said Antony, standing at the rail and flinging out his line. "We shall see what we land!"

  There was a rustling of motion on the boat, and I saw some of the younger boat-boys diving off the side when they thought no one was looking. The waters parted silently and they slipped away.

  "Oh, what is this?" cried Antony with mock surprise. And he hauled in a perfect fish--a big mullet. He unhooked it and quickly threw out his line again.

  "It bites again!" he cried. He yanked on the line and a fat perch flew through the air. It looked suspiciously like the ones I had just seen for sale at the harbor market.

  "My lord Antony is most fortunate," I said. "He can acquire fish beyond the measure of ordinary fishermen."

  Flavius and the others started cheering, saying now Antony would have to treat them all to more beer, as the winner of the fishing contest. Again and again he threw out his line, and the fish appeared so quickly one could suspect they were all fighting below the waterline to grab Antony's hook.

  Soon a pile of prize fish of amazingly many species lay at Antony's feet, a glistening mound. Odd how none of them flapped or gasped when they were hoisted in. And just at the time his luck ceased, the boys hauled themselves on board the ship again.

  "I am in awe of your luck," I sighed. "Let us see if it holds tomorrow, for we must venture out again."

  "In the meantime, head for that
jetty!" one of the soldiers said. "It's time for Antony's treat!"

  When we returned home, there were several letters for Antony. He took them and disappeared into his private quarters. He did not come to me that night; they must have been weighty, and depressing. I longed to know what was in them.

  The next morning we set out again. The strengthening sun was on us, and as we embarked on our boats from the very foot of the Street of the Soma, where the lake harbor water lapped against the steps of Portus Mareotis, I kept very silent. I had brought along my own divers this time, with their own sacks, and I meant to make a point to Antony.

  We rowed out into the middle of the lake, watching the rising sun. It gilded the water, and already I could feel its heat along my arm. The sun would rise higher, achieve the zenith in its season and time; and where would Antony be? In its light or in its shadow?

  We sailed and paddled out across the open water, then headed for the marshy borders that were so rich with fish and birds. Some of our party had brought bows and arrows in hopes of shooting wild fowl.

  Antony cast his line again. He made reference to his fantastic luck the day before. "Oh, would that such another day would come to me!" The line bobbed and sank. Then at once there was a pulling. Something had bitten. Eagerly he hauled it in. He looked genuinely pleased--this time he had truly caught something!