There followed an obstinate contest between Antony and this fierce
assailant, in the end of which the latter was beaten off. The boats
then, having succeeded in making some prizes from Antony's fleet, though
they had failed in capturing Antony himself, gave up the pursuit and
returned. Antony then went back to his place, sat down in the prow,
buried his face in his hands, and sank into the same condition of
hopeless distress and anguish as before.
When husband and wife are overwhelmed with misfortune and suffering,
each instinctively seeks a refuge in the sympathy and support of the
other. It is, however, far otherwise with such connections as that of
Antony and Cleopatra. Conscience, which remains calm and quiet in
prosperity and sunshine, rises up with sudden and unexpected violence as
soon as the hour of calamity comes; and thus, instead of mutual comfort
and help, each finds in the thoughts of the other only the means of
adding the horrors of remorse to the anguish of disappointment and
despair. So extreme was Antony's distress, that for three days he and
Cleopatra neither saw nor spoke to each other. She was overwhelmed with
confusion and chagrin, and he was in such a condition of mental
excitement that she did not dare to approach him. In a word, reason
seemed to have wholly lost its sway--his mind, in the alternations of
his insanity, rising sometimes to fearful excitement, in paroxysms of
uncontrollable rage, and then sinking again for a time into the stupor
of despair.
