Meanwhile, Cleopatra’s state of mind must have been appalling. Not only had she lost her dearest friend and former lover, but, with his death, she had lost the vast kingdom which he had promised her. No longer was she presumptive Queen of the Earth, but now, in a moment, she was once more simply sovereign of Egypt, seated upon an unfirm throne. Moreover, she must have fancied that her own life was in danger, as well as that of the little Cæsar. The contents of the Dictator’s will must have been a further shock to her, although she probably already knew their tenor; and she must have thought with bitterness of the difference that even one day more might have made to her in this regard. It was perhaps true that the Senate had been about to offer him the throne of the provinces on the fatal Ides; and in that case Cæsar would most certainly have altered his will to meet the new situation, if indeed he had not already done so, as some say. There was reason to suppose that such a will, in favour of Cæsarion, had actually been made,[78] but if this were so, it was nowhere to be found, and had perhaps been destroyed by Calpurnia. What was she to do? When would Octavian appear to claim such property and honours as Cæsar had bequeathed to him? Should she at once proclaim her baby son as the rightful heir, or should she fly the country?
In this dilemma there seems to me to be no doubt that she must have consulted with Antony, the one man who had firmly grasped the tangled strings of the situation, and must have implored him to support the claims of her son. If the public would not admit that Cæsarion was Cæsar’s son, then the boy would, without doubt, pass into insignificance, and ultimately be deprived, in all probability, even of his Egyptian throne. If, on the other hand, with Antony’s support, he were officially recognised to be the Dictator’s child, then there was a good chance that the somewhat unprepossessing Octavian might be pushed aside for ever. Cæsar had taken a fancy to this obscure nephew of his during the Spanish War. The young man, although still weak after a severe illness, had set out to join the Dictator in Spain with a promptitude which had won his admiration. He had suffered shipwreck, and had ultimately made his way to his uncle’s camp by roads infested with the enemy, and thereafter had fought by his side. He was now following his studies in Apollonia, and intended to join Cæsar on his way to the East. If he could be prevented from coming to Rome the game would be in the Queen’s hands; and I am of opinion that she must now have approached Antony with some such suggestion for the solution of the difficulty. Antony, on his part, probably realised that with the establishment of Octavian in Cæsar’s seat his own power would vanish; but that, were he to support the baby Cæsarion, he himself would remain the all-powerful regent for many years to come. He might even take the dead man’s place as Cleopatra’s husband, and climb to the throne by means of the right of his stepson.[79]