When Antony addressed her he felt himself a rustic in her presence.  Almost resentful, he betook himself to the coarse language of the camp.  Cleopatra, with marvelous adaptability, took her tone from his, and thus in a moment put him at his ease.  Ferrero, who takes a most unfavorable view of her character and personality, nevertheless explains the secret of her fascination: 

Herself utterly cold and callous, insensitive by nature to the flame of true devotion, Cleopatra was one of those women gifted with an unerring instinct for all the various roads to men’s affections.  She could be the shrinking, modest girl, too shy to reveal her half-unconscious emotions of jealousy and depression and self-abandonment, or a woman carried away by the sweep of a fiery and uncontrollable passion.  She could tickle the esthetic sensibilities of her victims by rich and gorgeous festivals, by the fantastic adornment of her own person and her palace, or by brilliant discussions on literature and art; she could conjure up all their grossest instincts with the vilest obscenities of conversation, with the free and easy jocularity of a woman of the camps.

These last words are far too strong, and they represent only Ferrero’s personal opinion; yet there is no doubt that she met every mood of Antony’s so that he became enthralled with her at once.  No such woman as this had ever cast her eyes on him before.  He had a wife at home—­a most disreputable wife—­so that he cared little for domestic ties.  Later, out of policy, he made another marriage with the sister of his rival, Octavian, but this wife he never cared for.  His heart and soul were given up to Cleopatra, the woman who could be a comrade in the camp and a fount of tenderness in their hours of dalliance, and who possessed the keen intellect of a man joined to the arts and fascinations of a woman.

On her side she found in Antony an ardent lover, a man of vigorous masculinity, and, moreover, a soldier whose armies might well sustain her on the throne of Egypt.  That there was calculation mingled with her love, no one can doubt.  That some calculation also entered into Antony’s affection is likewise certain.  Yet this does not affect the truth that each was wholly given to the other.  Why should it have lessened her love for him to feel that he could protect her and defend her?  Why should it have lessened his love for her to know that she was queen of the richest country in the world—­one that could supply his needs, sustain his armies, and gild his triumphs with magnificence?

There are many instances in history of regnant queens who loved and yet whose love was not dissociated from the policy of state.  Such were Anne of Austria, Elizabeth of England, and the unfortunate Mary Stuart.  Such, too, we cannot fail to think, was Cleopatra.

The two remained together for ten years.  In this time Antony was separated from her only during a campaign in the East.  In Alexandria he ceased to seem a Roman citizen and gave himself up wholly to the charms of this enticing woman.  Many stories are told of their good fellowship and close intimacy.  Plutarch quotes Plato as saying that there are four kinds of flattery, but he adds that Cleopatra had a thousand.  She was the supreme mistress of the art of pleasing.