The Memoirs of Cleopatra Part 65

The wine began to affect me, too. I felt my reserve and standoffishness start to dissolve. Gradually the tavern did not seem tatty and rude, but excitingly wicked. I even felt my arms start to trace out the dancer's movements under my cloak. Suddenly I wanted to move, spin, dance--make love.

"More, more!" The patrons were clapping and demanding another dance. The girl, sweat running down her body, obliged, and the mixed smell of perspiration and perfume was as intoxicating as the fumes of the cheap wine.

"Let's get some food!" cried Antony suddenly, to his companions. En ma.s.se they headed for the door, in spite of the owner's attempts to convince them that he served food as well.

"No, we have to try them all!" said Antony. "All the places!"

We selected an eating place at random--since no one knew any particular establishment. Antony had followed his nose, smelling something roasting. It turned out to be the remnants of an ox, and our party ordered it all cut off the spit and served. It was surprisingly good.

"I think--I think we should form a society!" said Antony suddenly, his mouth half full of crisp pieces of ox, chewing furiously. "Yes, and we'd have meals, roasted ox every day if we pleased--we'd have excursions, we'd take our pleasures and try to outdo ourselves each day. Who wants to join?"

"All of us!" cried the birthday guests.

"And what would you call this--this club?" I asked.

"Why, the Amimetobioi--the Society of the Incomparable Livers!" he said quickly.

He must have already planned such a club, I thought, for the name was too ready on his tongue.

"I see," I said.

"I want to become a legend of extravagant indulgence!" he said, kissing my cheek. "Just like you with the pearl."

"I thought you wanted to complete Caesar's task and conquer Parthia," I said. "I do not think that goes with extravagant indulgence."

"Oh, Alexander had his bouts of wild drinking, and he conquered the entire world! Who says they are incompatible?"

"Perhaps not for Alexander, but--he did not live very long."

"But gloriously, gloriously!" He raised his cup and drank it all in one swallow.

"Stop shouting," I said. His voice hurt my ear.

He pressed another cup into my hand and I sipped it slowly. I had no wish to get any drunker than I already was.

Stuffed with food and wine, we reeled out into the street again. We pa.s.sed a knot of people, also from our party, and the groups mingled and then broke away, searching in different directions for more amus.e.m.e.nts. I saw Charmian and the tall Roman in the other group, but they did not notice me. Nicolaus was also there, and even the old supply officer, celebrating his victory. They drifted away, and we wound our way back into the streets off the waterfront. It was quieter there, but somehow more vicious: it was as if the vice did not even try to drape itself in false gaiety, but just went about its grim business with no imagination at all. Women hung out of the windows, their thin arms beckoning, their dark eyes following us as we trailed down the streets.

Through one of the alleys I saw something big, on high ground. It must be the Temple of Serapis. I tugged on Antony's arm. "Let's go there," I said. I was anxious to leave this quarter.

"Lead on," he said obediently.

We wound our way toward it, and as we approached, the press of people suddenly reappeared. Hundreds of torches were burning, giving off clouds of smoke and the smell of resin, as well as flickering light. The entire area around the rising ground of the temple was filled with booths--booths selling incense, offerings, lamps, garlands. Also, the temple prost.i.tutes plied their trade, lounging in doorways, spilling out onto doorsills. There were also houses with rooms to rent by the hour for anyone who wished to indulge, no questions asked, before or after wors.h.i.+ping.

This had once been a sacred shrine. My ancestor Ptolemy III had built it and dedicated it to the G.o.ds, and it had been a place of healing where invalids came to spend the night and be cured. From this it had fallen to a place where evil consorted with superst.i.tion and l.u.s.t. Baths nearby drew off the sated wors.h.i.+pers, where they could frolic naked in heated water, splas.h.i.+ng and squealing.

I wished I had not come. Before I could turn and leave, however, an old woman approached us. "Love potions!" she whispered, hawking her wares. "Love potions!" She thrust a vial of green liquid into Antony's hand.

He held it up and looked at it.

"It's powerful, sir," she said, holding out her hand for money. He gave it, and impulsively took a swallow of the brew.

"Don't!" I said. "It may be poisonous--or dangerous."

"No, it's nothing of the sort," he said, wiping his mouth. "Take some." He gave it to me. "You have to join me in drinking it."

Every fiber in me warned against it, but something compelled me to do it. A sip revealed it as sticky-sweet, with an aftertaste of raisins.

"Come, let's visit the shrine." We made our way over the uneven ground and then climbed the steps into the temple. In the forest of columns, the light faded and I could barely see the place where my ancestor Berenice had made her famous offering of hair--an offering accepted by the G.o.ds and taken up to heaven, where it was turned into a constellation.

Slowly some odd feeling of both urgency and lethargy stole through me. I felt my arm around Antony's waist, felt the flesh through the tunic, and my limbs were heavy. I wanted to lie down, but at the same time felt inhibitions melting away--the sense of time, of propriety, of order. My head spun. We stumbled back down the steps. He was as affected as I.

A doorway beckoned. A proprietress waited. We went in. Payment was made.

We were in a large, high-ceilinged room with two little windows and a frame bed with leather thongs for a mattress. My mantle was lifted off, falling heavily to my feet. The sword came off. I clung to Antony, feeling odd and transported. I knew I was drugged, but I did not care. I floated. He had had more of it than I, and was even more affected.

His movements seemed slow, suspended. Or was that merely my strange perception?

I held him, and the world spun. There seemed to be only this man, this place, this moment. The world stopped spinning and narrowed down to just this room. I had no past, no future, only this very present.

We were on the bare bed, its crisscross of thongs making patterns in our flesh. Outside I could hear, drifting in from some remote place, the sounds of the revelers and customers below. But in this chamber, empty, barren, I clasped Antony to me, as the only solid thing in this melting, s.h.i.+fting sphere I was swimming in.

He was kissing me, turning me over and over, his breath--almost the only reality I felt--hot on my shoulders, my neck, my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Was he speaking? I could not hear. My ears were stopped. All my senses, except that of touch, had fled. I felt every sensation on my skin, but did not hear, smell, taste, see. My flesh was alive, every particle of it, inside and out.

I know he made love to me, and I to him, for hours through that long, foreign night, but such were the effects of the drug that it all subsumes into one superb blending of our persons, sublime and protracted. I cannot tease out one singular instance, but only grasp, fleetingly, in dreams, the remembrance of the whole.

How we left that chamber, and how we returned to Alexandria, will forever be lost to me, but somehow we did. And I awoke the next morning--or perhaps it was the morning after that--in my own bed in my own chamber, the bright morning light from the harbor dancing on the walls, and Charmian bending anxiously over me.

Chapter 46.

"At last!" she said as I opened my eyes. The light hurt them.

"Here." She laid a compress of cuc.u.mber juice on my eyelids; the fresh, astringent smell of it was like a miracle after the artificial, heavy odors of Canopus.

"What did you drink? A sleeping potion?"

The green, heavy liquid--I remembered its glint of emerald coloring, its oversweet taste. "It had that effect," I said. Actually that was the least of its effects. I would have blushed about the behavior it had induced in the rented room--if I could remember the details. I sighed. "I made the mistake of drinking something offered off the streets." Antony had had more than I. "What of Lord Antony? Where is he?"

"No one has seen him." She laid her hands on mine. "But he is back in his quarters, never fear. His guards saw him enter."

I hoped he was not too miserable. I raised one corner of the compress and looked at Charmian. "I saw you with--with--"

"Flavius," she finished.

"Was he as--personable as you hoped?" She had looked happy enough when I pa.s.sed her.

"Yes," she said quietly. I wondered what had happened, whether this would lead anywhere. He was not exactly Apollo, as she had said she was looking for, but he would do as an earthly subst.i.tute.

After a few minutes I got up, swinging my feet over the side of the bed and touching the cool, washed marble floor. In spite of everything, I felt oddly rested.

Outside, the sea was beating against the breakwaters and smas.h.i.+ng the base of the Lighthouse. It was mid-January, and the seas were closed to s.h.i.+pping. Very little could enter the port, and almost nothing could leave it, save by land. The caravans were still coming from the east with their luxury goods, but letters, grain, oil, and wine did not move. It was the time Epaphroditus and his a.s.sistants spent in inventories and compilations, girding themselves for another year.

I sent for Caesarion, who came as soon as he had finished that morning's lessons. He had an old tutor from the Museion, the same one I had had, Apollonius. He had been dull but thorough, and I thought he would make a gentle start in learning for Caesarion. He never raised his voice, which had the sometimes unfortunate effect of putting you to sleep.

"I thought perhaps we might eat together, and you can tell me what you are studying," I said. "And how your lizard is."

His face lit up. "Oh, the lizard is fine! He's learned a new trick since the one pulling the cart. Today he hid in my boot. I almost squashed him when I put them on!" He burst into high, pealing laughter.

"And your studies?" I asked. Charmian was setting bread and fig paste out for us, as well as. Goat cheese and olives. Caesarion reached for them eagerly.

"Oh--" His face fell. "I was memorizing the list of Pharaohs, but there are so many of them. . . ." He bit off a big piece of bread and kept talking." And it was all so long ago . . . and I wish they were more than just names, I wish I knew what they looked like, and if they had big feet... and if they ever had lizards in their shoes." And it was all so long ago . . . and I wish they were more than just names, I wish I knew what they looked like, and if they had big feet... and if they ever had lizards in their shoes."

"What of your grammar: He looked puzzled.

"Doesn't Apollonius teach you grammar?"

"No, just the list of the Pharaohs," he said. "And other lists of battles. And sometimes he makes me memorize a speech. Listen: Teach him what has been said in the past; then he will set a good example to the children of the magistrates, and judgment and all exact.i.tude shall enter into him. Speak to him, for none is born wise.' "

"Hmm. What does it mean?"

"I don't know. But it's from the Maxims of Ptahhotpe!" he said brightly. "Here's another. 'Do not be arrogant because of your knowledge, but confer with the ignorant man as with the learned. Good speech is more hidden than malachite, yet it is found in the possession of women slaves at the millstones.' "

According to that, the proprietress in Canopus might have had gems of wisdom to impart. Perhaps she had. But obviously I must replace Apollonius. He was too old, and his teaching was not right for a child. I spread some of the fig paste on my bread. "Very good. We must follow that advice," I said solemnly.

Just then there was a commotion, and I heard Charmian saying, "Yes, they are here, but--" and before she could announce him, Antony walked into the room.

He looked perfectly normal, no trace of even a headache. I stared at him, amazed.

"Greetings, Your Majesty," he said, addressing Caesarion directly. He nodded toward me, winking. "I thought perhaps you might be bored on a cold, windy day like this. It has been a long time since you could sail in the harbor or even ride, hasn't it?"

How well he knew little boys. Of course, that was because in some ways he was still one himself.

"Oh yes, it's tiring," he agreed. "And my lessons are so boring!"

"How would you like to try some different lessons?" Antony asked, whisking out a small s.h.i.+eld and sword. "Some soldiering lessons?"

Caesarion looked greedily at the gear. "Oh yes," he said.

"I had them made just for you," Antony said. "The blade is dull, you won't have to worry about cutting anyone's head off." He laughed.

Only then did I see that someone had trailed in behind Antony. It was Nicolaus of Damascus. He just stood quietly in the shadows.

"And for when you're not fighting, I have someone who loves to tell stories to entertain boys," he said. "He knows ones you could never guess." He motioned for Nicolaus to come in. "He'll tell you all about the Persian fire devils."

Obviously something more appealing than the list of Pharaohs.

"Oh yes!" said Caesarion, forgetting all about his food. "When can we go practice with the sword? Can we go now? Can we?"

"Whenever your mother says." He c.o.c.ked his head at me. "I will take him this afternoon. I think he has the makings of a soldier. It would be surprising if he didn't, with Caesar for a father and such a fierce warrior queen for a mother."

"Perhaps you should teach me, too. I cannot handle a sword very well."

"You handled it well enough the other night."

I still had it, and realized he was asking for it back. "It is safe. Charmian, bring it to me." I took it and handed it back to Antony. "Keep wearing it with honor," I said.

When they returned at dusk, Caesarion was flushed and excited. He was wearing a little set of body armor and a helmet, and he flashed his sword up and down and made stabbing motions. He rushed at the curtains and poked a hole in them.

Antony said, "We'll do this often. He takes to it, and I think he needs it. Too much time indoors in the palace won't make a man of him. When he's older, he can come with me on campaigns--oh, not to fight, but just to see what it's like to be out in the field."

I felt hot tears pus.h.i.+ng to spill out of my eyes. All the things Caesar would have done for him! Thank the G.o.ds that Antony had come, a man who understood boys and could do for him what I could not. Growing up among women and eunuchs was not enough for a son of Caesar, who would be called upon to do great things, as a man among men.

"Thank you," I said, unable to say more.

The days spun on. Looking back, they seem a multicolored blend, like the scarves of a whirling dancer. With the idleness of winter, there was no guilt in pausing from the business of the world. The Amimetobioi Amimetobioi--the Incomparables--met often and outdid one another in dicing, drinking, banqueting. At the palace there were always several oxen roasting, in different stages of doneness, so that no matter what the hour or the number of guests, we could be fed on a moment's notice. Another member kept geese always turning on the spit, another a continual profusion of honey cakes, each flavored with different honey--precious ones like Attic and Rhodian and Carian and Hymettan, and obscure ones from Spain and Cappadocia. Wines gushed, from the sticky-sweet, precious Pramnian, to the apple-scented wine of the island of Thasos, to that of Byblos, and the Chian, poured from its sphinx-stamped amphorae. There were hunting and elephant rides and chariot races with tame panthers trotting alongside, down the wide streets of the city and out beyond the walls to the sandy ridges.

Alone, at night Antony and I would roam the streets of Alexandria, disguised, as he liked to do, wandering past the monumental buildings and private homes, listening to conversations, overhearing the songs and quarrels of common people; in our chambers we traded clothes and I became a man while he was a richly appareled courtesan. It was all a dizzy round of pretending, of playacting; we were playing as surely as Caesarion with his sword and s.h.i.+eld. In this way I had at last the childhood I had skipped--mine had been too serious and dangerous to have afforded such lighthearted silliness, such lack of concern for safety.

Late at night, together in our darkened room, it felt as if the entire world were concentrated in that one chamber; the rest had vanished, had receded into the night, and would not encroach upon us.

"I wonder what I did before I loved you," he said once, idly, his fingers tracing patterns on my back.

"I don't think you were lonely," I said. But for some reason I was not jealous of who had come before. It could not have been like this.

"No, not lonely." He laughed softly. "But it was all just a rehearsal. Everyone now seems only an early dream of you."

I sighed, and turned my head. It was resting on his shoulder, happy in its home there. "Dreams," I said. "This seems like a dream. This room, this bed, seems a magic kingdom."

"Where we are both King and Queen and the only citizens," he said, tracing the line of my nose, my lips. "An unusual kingdom."

"Oh, Antony, I love you," I said, the words tumbling out. "You have freed me."

"How can a queen be freed?" he asked.

"You have set me free in a garden--a garden of earthly delights, which bloom without any effort." Yes, since he had come I felt I was walking through such a garden--filled with exotic, many-petaled flowers that opened their perfumed throats just for my pleasure whenever I pa.s.sed by. The shade was always waiting, and there were cool mists and hidden bowers around every corner.

"I would call them unearthly unearthly delights," he said. "For nothing happens on earth without our efforts, my love." He turned his head to mine and kissed me, a long, lingering kiss. "Even this." And it did take an effort for me to raise my head. delights," he said. "For nothing happens on earth without our efforts, my love." He turned his head to mine and kissed me, a long, lingering kiss. "Even this." And it did take an effort for me to raise my head.

Gradually the winter relaxed its grip on the sea, and our isolation ended. I could feel it ebbing in the increased warmth of the sun and the steady decline in the ferocity of the waves and storms. Always before I had longed for the end of winter; now I dreaded it. I did not want my magic kingdom breached. I wanted to live in it forever, or until I was so sated with love and pleasure that I finally cried, "Hold! Enough!"

I was not at that stage when the first s.h.i.+ps arrived, plying the path between Italy and Egypt, Syria and Egypt. Messengers rushed ash.o.r.e, official ones with the insignia of the Roman army, and sought Antony out. Their news was grim.