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 upon the deck of the barge
beneath a canopy of woven gold. She was dressed to resemble Venus,
while girls about her personated nymphs and Graces. Delicate