Chapter 52.
During those weeks when we were cut off from the rest of the world, I had many long hours to think--to think, and to recuperate. Gradually I grew thin while the babies grew big, as if a very source of being were transferred from me to them. My strength returned; even my pain disappeared.
"Youth is a marvelous healer," said Olympos after he pronounced me completely recovered.
"No, I think it was your skill," I said. "After all, plenty of young people die." It occurred to me that the two people who know you best in the world are your physician--who knows all the particulars of your body--and your financial advisor, who knows all the secrets of your bank account. Between them, they have the whole picture.
"Luck played a part in it," he said. "And your basic strength. You are a tough warrior crocodile."
Antony had called me that, too. How strange. "Antony called me a crocodile as well," I said. "I don't think it's a compliment."
He frowned, as he always did, at least in passing, when Antony was mentioned. Which was too bad, since I had a mission for him that involved Antony. "The crocodile has many admirable qualities--I meant it that way. It's very hard to conquer a crocodile, and they can live under conditions that would kill most other animals. An enviable trait," insisted Olympos.
"Indeed." I waited a moment to broach the main subject. This was not going to be easy. "Olympos, your knowledge of wounds and healing is remarkable--for a Greek."
Now his eyebrows shot up. He looked wary, like a gazelle that suspects a lion might be nearby. "For a Greek?"
"Of course the medical training here at the Museion is still foremost in the world," I said. "You are the heirs of the great Herophilus and his anatomy studies; and the operations for stones and abscesses were great advances in their day. The theories, the theories were ingenious! Praxagoras and his hypothesis about the blood vessels! Dioscorides' idea about the plague--intriguing! But--"
"But what?" Now he looked truly on guard.
"But those ideas are just theories. I think, now that I have recovered, you should go to Rome to study," I said.
"I knew it!" He shook his head. "And why, pray tell, should I go to Rome? Other than to spy on Antony?"
I ignored the last question. "Because I prize your talent for healing. But time has marched on; there are new techniques in the world of medicine--"
"Of which you are well apprised, being a physician yourself," he said with a snort.
"I know that the Romans have learned a great deal about treating wounds and lacerations--they have practical knowledge, not just theories. That's because they've fought so many wars in the past hundred years--they've had a lot of soldiers to practice on! Oh, Olympos, don't be such a snob. Greeks can learn some things from Romans."
"As you have?"
I let that barb pass. "I have heard they know how to operate on eyes to remove cataracts, and that they can sew up wounds so they won't fester. And that they have invented instruments that clamp blood vessels, and others that hold wounds open so that arrows can be extracted--"
"Of course I know that," he snapped. "Do you think I don't keep up?"
"But wouldn't you like to go and learn about them firsthand? Or is your prejudice against the Romans so strong that it even compromises your work?"
Now he looked embarrassed. "It would take too long--I have duties here--"
"You have some very able assistants and students. And you needn't be gone longer than half a year. When the seas open again in March, you could go. Stay until autumn. You can learn a lot in six months! And I won't get into trouble while you're gone--nothing that your assistant can't manage."
"I know you," he said. "You can get into a lot of trouble in six months."
"Well, I promise I won't."
He looked halfway pleased. Perhaps he really needed a change; and his innate curiosity would enjoy the challenge of a new discipline.
Now that I had his cooperation, it was time for the next part. "And, yes, there is some personal business I'd like--"
"No, I won't go to Antony. You know I hate the man."
His flat statement took me by surprise. I did not know what to say-- certainly I couldn't defend Antony to him. After all, there were times when I hated him myself. Finally I said, "I don't expect you to meet with him. But I want you to take along one of my astrologers--someone Antony has never seen, who will find a way to attach himself to Antony's entourage."
Olympos groaned. "So I am to accompany a spy of yours to Rome? You want to put eyes and ears in Antony's household?"
"No," I said. "I don't care about his eyes and ears. What I want to use is his mouth. I want him to advise Antony to get out of Rome."
"Why? Why should he leave Rome? So he can come back here?"
"No. I don't expect him to come back here. I don't want him to come back here." Not as Octavia's husband and Octavian's obedient servant, I thought.
"I find that hard to believe."
"Nevertheless, it's true. But he should get out of Octavian's shadow. He cannot even think clearly around him--it's as if Octavian corrupts and disables his very mind!"
"I told you long ago, he takes on the strongest nature that's nearest him. That's why he's unreliable. I warned you."
"You were right--he does. And that's why he must put distance between himself and Octavian."
"Again, why?"
"I want him to stand clear, on his own!"
"You haven't answered my question." Olympos was relentless. "Why should it matter to you?"
He was determined to make me say, Because I love him. Because I don't want him to go down to ruin. But I only said, "Because Antony's task is to administer the east and conquer the Parthians. If he dallies too long in Rome, he will lose his chance. And that would be bad for all of us in the east."
Olympos grunted. "And I suppose you want me to write you long reports about Rome and the gossip there," he said.
"Yes, of course," I answered. "It has been five years since I left. Many things will have changed. I am curious. Indulge me. After all, I will pay for your journey and lodgings--and I hope you will avail yourself of the best."
I knew that was irresistible bait for him. He was one of those thrifty people with secret longings to be profligate. Doing it at someone else's expense should satisfy both needs.
* * *
My dear friend and Queen:
After a ghastly ocean voyage, and an equally unpleasant stint up the Tiber on a smaller boat, and then being almost choked to death by the foul odors on the docks, I can attest that we are indeed in Rome. Never have I appreciated Alexandria more, now that I have seen Rome!
I have acquired quite luxurious quarters--remember, you told me to--but one of the horrors of Rome is that poor and rich dwell side by side, so just next door to me is a squalid apartment building filled with the most unsavory inhabitants. Undoubtedly there would be an opportunity to practice a great deal of unusual medicine there, but no, thanks! I am not interested in contracting skin lesions and lice in the process.
Through inquiries at the hospital of Asclepius on Tiber Island, I have been introduced to a retired army surgeon who is the grand master of the new science--everyone who is anyone in that discipline seems to have trained under him. He has been most gracious in taking me on, and translates Latin into Greek with nary a complaint. So I must thank you for urging me to come--even if I was merely an appendage to your plots and plans.
And as for that, I can report that Hunefer has departed into Antony's household to do your bidding. It all came about very naturally, as the Egyptians in the city congregate near the vegetable market and exchange information about positions in Roman households. As an Alexandrian-trained astrologer he had no difficulty in insinuating himself into Antony's. There he will disseminate your advice into Antony's ear.
I have been here long enough to have learned that Antony's fathering of your children has caused him great embarrassment in Rome, and that Octavian is said to be positively apoplectic abo
ut it. Perhaps to make up for it, Octavia is reported to be pregnant.
Farewell for now, and do not neglect your chervil drink. Keep building up your blood.
--Your servant and friend, Olympos
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Octavia pregnant! That horrible dream--there must have been truth in it! I felt anger start to course through my veins, anger that was not even rational. I had known they were married; I knew what married people did; I was almost angry at myself for being angry.
I put the letter down. So Olympos had arrived, and was putting the time to good use. What more did I want?
And our children had caused Antony awkward moments in Rome? Good. Let Octavian stew on that--let him think on it, just as I was tormented by the dream.
My nature was at least as strong as Octavian's. May the best man win.
.
My Queenly patron:
Greetings from one who is becoming expert at everything from sewing small eyelid wounds using women's hair, to the other end of the scale, tying off blood vessels of amputated limbs. I am also learning a method of repairing a large gap in the skin, like that caused by an ulcer, by cutting two flaps on either side, then drawing them together overhead. But I will not trouble you with the descriptions of these wounds, as they are generally repulsive. I know you prefer to dwell on more alluring aspects of the senses.
The great stir here is that Octavian and Antony have made peace with Sextus, concluding a treaty with him at Misenum. I doubt that it can last. They have only just finished edging Lepidus to the verge of retirement, and are unlikely to want him replaced in the share of power. But for now the grain is flowing back into Rome again, and this eases the discontent with Octavian. People's memories are very short--as short as their last meal, for the most part.
Octavian and Antony have been busy seeing to their marital obligations. It is true about Octavia's pregnancy, and now it seems Scribonia is expecting as well--at about the same time. Ah, what a fervid night it must have been in Rome a little while ago. The same constellations must have been hovering over the bedrooms, giving the offspring the same horoscope. The future should be interesting.
Speaking of horoscopes, Hunefer reports that Antony consults him regularly. It seems that whenever Antony rolls dice or bets against his dear brother-in-law, Octavian always wins. Hunefer has used this opportunity to tell him that his noble spirit will always be vanquished by Octavian's superior luck, and therefore he should keep far away from him. So the poison--pardon me, the suggestion--is being poured into Antoni's ear. Look for him in our part of the world again soon. Antony has already dispatched general Bassus into Syria to give the Parthians a preliminary thrashing.
Pat the babies on the head for me, and give Mardian a cuff if he persists in eating the custards I warned him of. He has gotten entirely too fat, and you can tell him so from me. I told him myself before I left.
Keep yourself well, and do not let your thoughts be troubled.
--Your entirely loyal Olympos
.
I was keeping myself well, but as for not letting my thoughts be troubled-- that was not so easy. I was restless and discontented, unreconciled to the present state of things with no clear view of what I preferred instead. I was envious of Antony--envious because he had everything. He could have as much lovemaking as he liked, and all with the world's approval--it was even for the greater good of Rome! He had lands to conquer, a campaign to conduct in Parthia.
I should have been happy to be spared all that, I should have rejoiced in the peace my country enjoyed, its prosperity, my healthy children, my own quiet life. I did. But there was that in me that would almost have preferred the problems facing Antony. I did not like sitting still; at heart I was a warrior, too.
.
Dearest Queen Cleopatra, Forgive me if I write just this short letter, but I feel you must know what Antony is saying, since it concerns you. As I told you earlier, Octavian was offended about the children you bore Antony--now his beloved brother-in-law--and made no secret about it. Evidently lately, at a banquet where the two men were feasting envoys from Cyprus and Crete--and with their pregnant wives at their sides--Octavian made a remark about it, to the effect that it was disgraceful that Antony should have been so careless and allowed such a thing. Then (so my informants told me, as I assure you I was not present) Antony put down his goblet and said in a ringing voice, "The way to spread noble blood through the world is to beget everywhere a new line of kings. My own ancestor was got by Hercules in this manner. Hercules didn't limit his hopes of progeny to a single womb. He didn't fear any Solonian laws against fornication and adultery. He didn't fear the audits of his copulations. He freely let nature have its way and founded as many families as he could."
I was ashamed for you when I heard it. I knew I must tell you immediately. When I think what you suffered as a result of his Herculean imitation--! No one who had witnessed what I did would have spoken thus. It is good I was not there, or--by Zeus--he would not still be walking this earth. I may not be as good a swordsman as he, but there are many other ways to die. You remember my garden.
.
Was this the same Antony who had sworn eternal love, and written the distraught letter? There he was, trying to please Octavian again. He takes on the strongest nature that's nearest him. His words dismissed me as nothing but a breeder, a field to be sown by his Dionysian seed. Of course, that was to please the two Octs--Octavian and Octavia.
I had never answered the letter from Antony. Was this his revenge?
But I knew Antony was not a vengeful man. If anything, he was the opposite.
He had to part from Octavian soon! His wits and judgment were being subverted. But of course, wherever he went he would take along a piece of Octavian. I had planted an astrologer in his household, but Octavian had done better than that; he had put a partisan in his very bed--Octavian's loyal and obedient sister.
Octavian. The world was not large enough to encompass us both. Nor could we share Antony.
My eyes strayed to the corner of the chamber, where a spear and a helmet of Antony's leaned against the wall. They were articles we had exchanged when we dressed in fantasy. He had forgotten them, left them behind when he sailed off for Tyre. They had served as a visible reminder of him, and I thought to present them to Alexander someday as a legacy from his father, just as I would give Caesarion the pendant from his.
Now they just looked dusty and forsaken. He had not missed them; or if he had, he was too proud to ask for them to be returned. I walked over to them and touched them. Is there anything more out of place than the trappings of battle in a peacetime chamber? I should put them away.
Oh, Antony. I would rather be the one to go than the one to stay behind-- like these castoff weapons, I thought.
I would rule alone. It was my allotted fate. With one hand I touched again the spear, with the other I touched the pendant, which I had put back on again: remnants of the men who had given me my heirs.
.
Dearest Queen
Let me be the one to announce to you that Octavia s child has been born, and it is a daughter. So much for the Golden Age son, the Roman messiah. That for Vergil.
Scribonia will follow suit shortly. But they say Octavian means to divorce her. That can mean only one thing: he is ready to launch his war against Sextus, in spite of the treaty. Of course I never doubted it. Treaties serve Octavian only as a means of delay while he prepares himself to break them.
Oh, and Herod has arrived in Rome. He was warmly welcomed by both men, and elevated to King of Judaea, promoted from merely governor of Galilee. Now remains the small matter of clearing the Parthians out of Herod's kingdom for him, so he can ascend his throne.
To continue--twenty days later:
Scribonia has presented Octavian with a daughter. (You see, I told you they would have the same horoscope.) And the very next day he divorced her! Such a kind, thoughtful man! And now he is marrying again--whom? Prepare yourself. She herself is married,
and her obliging husband is divorcing her and giving her away, although she has yet to deliver their child. I find this monstrous. I really cannot stomach Rome much longer. Antony is transferring his headquarters to Athens shortly, and I will make the journey on the same ship. I have long wanted to spend time in Athens, and from there I can cross back to Egypt easily.
I meant to tell more of Octavian's bride. He has reportedly fallen madly in love, but I find this hard to believe. The fact that the bride comes from one of the very oldest aristocratic families of Rome, and that that faction is the one where Octavian needs most to win partisans, makes me suspect his sudden passion. She is Livia, the daughter of the ardent Republican LiviusDrusus, who committed suicide after the battle of Philippi. She is also the wife of Tiberius Claudius Nero, a political enemy of Octavian's, only just reconciled with him after the treaty of Misenum. What a coup for him. One by one, and bit by bit, his enemies are tranquilized, neutralized, pulverized. Soon there will be none left. And he will reign supreme in all the world, straddling it on his spindly legs.
Athens, I come! Enough of Rome! I have done my best for you here, but with Antony's departure my task is over. The city stinks, and not just because the Cloaca Maxima needs a good cleaning.
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Memoirs of Cleopatra (1997) Page 83