ar,
either. Any man of ability, with the power and resources of which Antony
disposed, could have taken the Occident from him and, with Cleopatra,
ruled the world.

Together they dreamed of it. It was a beautiful dream, inimitable like
their life. Rumors of the one and of the other reached Octavius. He
waited, not impatiently and not long. Meanwhile Antony was still the
husband of Octavia. But Cleopatra had poisoned her brother-husband. There
being, therefore, no lawful reason why she and Antony should not marry,
they did. Together, in the splendid palace of the Bruchium--an antique gem
of which the historic brilliance still persists--they seated themselves,
he as Osiris, she as Isis, on thrones of gold. Their children they
declared kings of kings. Armenia, Phoenicia, Media, and Parthea, were
allotted to them. To Cleopatra's realm Antony added Syria, Lydia, and
Cyprus. These distributions constituted just so many dismemberments of
the res publica, Antony thought them so entirely within the scope of his
prerogatives that he sent an account of the proceedings to the senate.
With the account there went to Octavia a bill of divorce. Rome stood by
indignant. It was precisely what Octavius wanted.

Octavius had divorced his wife and married a married woman. According to
the ethics of the day, he was a model citizen, whereas Antony throning as
Osiris with a female Mithridates for consort, was as oblivious of Roman
dignity as of conjugal faith. In addition, it was found that he had made a
will by which Rome, in the event of capture, was devised as tributary city
to Cleopatra. Moreover, a senator, who had visited Antony at the Bruchium,
testified that he had seen him upholding the woman's litter like a slave.
It was obvious that he was mad, demented by her aphrodisiacs. But it was
obvious also that the gods of the East were rising, that Isis with her
cormorant, her lotos and her spangled arms, was arrayed against the Roman
penates.[21]

War was declared. At Actium the clash occurred. Antony might have won. But
before he had had time to lose, Cleopatra, with singular clairvoyance,
deserted him. Her reasons for believing that he would be defeated are not
clear, but her motive in going is obvious. She wanted to rule the world's
ruler, whoever he might be, and she thought by prompt defection to find
favor with Octavius.

At the sight of her scudding sail Antony lost his senses. Instead of
remaining and winning, as he might have,