, of excellent
family, being related to Caesar himself. As a very young man he was
exceedingly handsome, and bad companions led him into the pursuit of
vicious pleasure. He had scarcely come of age when he found that he
owed the enormous sum of two hundred and fifty talents, equivalent to
half a million dollars in the money of to-day. But he was much more
than a mere man of pleasure, given over to drinking and to dissipation.
Men might tell of his escapades, as when he drove about the streets of
Rome in a common cab, dangling his legs out of the window while he
shouted forth drunken songs of revelry. This was not the whole of
Antony. Joining the Roman army in Syria, he showed himself to be a
soldier of great personal bravery, a clever strategist, and also humane
and merciful in the hour of victory.

Unlike most Romans, Antony wore a full beard. His forehead was large,
and his nose was of the distinctive Roman type. His look was so bold
and masculine that people likened him to Hercules. His democratic
manners endeared him to the army. He wore a plain tunic covered with a
large, coarse mantle, and carried a huge sword at his side, despising
ostentation. Even his faults and follies added to his popularity. He
would sit down at the common soldiers' mess and drink with them,
telling them stories and clapping them on the back. He spent money like
water, quickly recognizing any daring deed which his legionaries
performed. In this respect he was like Napoleon; and, like Napoleon, he
had a vein of florid eloquence which was criticized by literary men,
but which went straight to the heart of the private soldier. In a word,
he was a powerful, virile, passionate, able man, rough, as were nearly
all his countrymen, but strong and true.

It was to this general that Cleopatra was to answer, and with a firm
reliance on the charms which had subdued Antony's great commander,
Caesar, she set out in person for Cilicia, in Asia Minor, sailing up
the river Cydnus to the place where Antony was encamped with his army.
Making all allowance for the exaggeration of historians, there can be
no doubt that she appeared to him like some dreamy vision. Her barge
was gilded, and was wafted on its way by swelling sails of Tyrian
purple. The oars which smote the water were of shining silver. As she
drew near the Roman general's camp the languorous music of flutes and
harps breathed forth a strain of invitation.

Cleopatra herself lay upon a divan set