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diff --git a/5482-h/5482-h.htm b/5482-h/5482-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1975042 --- /dev/null +++ b/5482-h/5482-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,16755 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" version="-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN" xml:lang="en"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"/> + <title> + Cleopatra, by Georg Ebers + </title> +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; font-size: 80%; font-style: italic;} + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + .xx-small {font-size: 60%;} + .x-small {font-size: 75%;} + .small {font-size: 85%;} + .large {font-size: 115%;} + .x-large {font-size: 130%;} + .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} + .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} + .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} + .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} + .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} + .indent40 { margin-left: 40%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: 0.6em; + font-variant: normal; font-style: normal; + text-align: right; background-color: #FFFACD; + border: 1px solid; padding: 0.3em;text-indent: 0em;} + .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 15%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + .head { float: left; font-size: 90%; width: 98%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} + span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 0.8 } + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + --> +</style> +</head> +<body> + +<p> +<br/><br/> +</p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cleopatra, Complete, by Georg Ebers + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Cleopatra, Complete + +Author: Georg Ebers + +Release Date: October 16, 2006 [EBook #5482] +Last Updated: July 7, 2017 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CLEOPATRA, COMPLETE *** + + + +Produced by David Widger +</pre> + +<div class="title"> +<h1> +CLEOPATRA +</h1> +<h2> +By Georg Ebers +</h2> +<h3> +Translated from the German by Mary J. Safford +</h3> +</div> + + +<div class="toc"> +<h2 id="contents"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CONTENTS. +</h2> + +<a href="#preface">PREFACE.</a> +<br/><br/> +<a href="#cleopatra"><b>CLEOPATRA</b></a> +<br/><br/> +<a href="#ch01">CHAPTER I.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch02">CHAPTER II.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch03">CHAPTER III.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch04">CHAPTER IV.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch05">CHAPTER V.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch06">CHAPTER VI.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch07">CHAPTER VII.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch08">CHAPTER VIII.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch09">CHAPTER IX.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch10">CHAPTER X.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch11">CHAPTER XI.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch12">CHAPTER XII.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch13">CHAPTER XIII.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch14">CHAPTER XIV.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch15">CHAPTER XV.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch16">CHAPTER XVI.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch17">CHAPTER XVII.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch18">CHAPTER XVIII.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch19">CHAPTER XIX.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch20">CHAPTER XX.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch21">CHAPTER XXI.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch22">CHAPTER XXII.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch23">CHAPTER XXIII.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch24">CHAPTER XXIV.</a> +<br/> +<a href="#ch25">CHAPTER XXV.</a> +</div> + + +<div class="main"> +<h2 id="preface"> +<br/><br/><br/> +PREFACE. +</h2> + +<p> +If the author should be told that the sentimental love of our day was +unknown to the pagan world, he would not cite last the two lovers, Antony +and Cleopatra, and the will of the powerful Roman general, in which he +expressed the desire, wherever he might die, to be buried beside the woman +whom he loved to his latest hour. His wish was fulfilled, and the +love-life of these two distinguished mortals, which belongs to history, +has more than once afforded to art and poesy a welcome subject. +</p> +<p> +In regard to Cleopatra, especially, life was surrounded with an atmosphere +of romance bordering on the fabulous. Even her bitterest foes admire her +beauty and rare gifts of intellect. Her character, on the contrary, +presents one of the most difficult problems of psychology. The servility +of Roman poets and authors, who were unwilling frankly to acknowledge the +light emanating so brilliantly from the foe of the state and the +Imperator, solved it to her disadvantage. Everything that bore the name of +Egyptian was hateful or suspicious to the Roman, and it was hard to +forgive this woman, born on the banks of the Nile, for having seen Julius +Cæsar at her feet and compelled Mark Antony to do her bidding. Other +historians, Plutarch at their head, explained the enigma more justly, and +in many respects in her favour. +</p> +<p> +It was a delightful task to the author to scan more closely the +personality of the hapless Queen, and from the wealth of existing +information shape for himself a creature in whom he could believe. Years +elapsed ere he succeeded; but now that he views the completed picture, he +thinks that many persons might be disposed to object to the brightness of +his colours. Yet it would not be difficult for the writer to justify every +shade which he has used. If, during his creative work, he learned to love +his heroine, it was because, the more distinctly he conjured before his +mind the image of this wonderful woman, the more keenly he felt and the +more distinctly he perceived how fully she merited not only sympathy and +admiration, but, in spite of all her sins and weaknesses, the +self-sacrificing affection which she inspired in so many hearts. +</p> +<p> +It was an author of no less importance than Horace who called Cleopatra +“<i>non humilis mulier</i>”—a woman capable of no baseness. But the phrase +gains its greatest importance from the fact that it adorns the hymn which +the poet dedicated to Octavianus and his victory over Antony and +Cleopatra. It was a bold act, in such an ode, to praise the victor’s foe. +Yet he did it, and his words, which are equivalent to a deed, are among +this greatly misjudged woman’s fairest claims to renown. +</p> +<p> +Unfortunately it proved less potent than the opinion of Dio, who often +distorted what Plutarch related, but probably followed most closely the +farce or the popular tales which, in Rome, did not venture to show the +Egyptian in a favourable light. +</p> +<p> +The Greek Plutarch, who lived much nearer the period of our heroine than +Dio, estimated her more justly than most of the Roman historians. His +grandfather had heard many tales of both Cleopatra and Antony from his +countryman Philotas, who, during the brilliant days when they revelled in +Alexandria, had lived there as a student. Of all the writers who describe +the Queen, Plutarch is the most trustworthy, but even his narrative must +be used with caution. We have closely followed the clear and comprehensive +description given by Plutarch of the last days of our heroine. It bears +the impress of truth, and to deviate widely from it would be arbitrary. +</p> +<p> +Unluckily, Egyptian records contain nothing which could have much weight +in estimating the character of Cleopatra, though we have likenesses +representing the Queen alone, or with her son Cæsarion. Very recently (in +1892) the fragment of a colossal double statue was found in Alexandria, +which can scarcely be intended for any persons except Cleopatra and Antony +hand in hand. The upper part of the female figure is in a state of +tolerable preservation, and shows a young and attractive face. The male +figure was doubtless sacrificed to Octavianus’s command to destroy +Antony’s statues. We are indebted to Herr Dr. Walther, in Alexandria, for +an excellent photograph of this remarkable piece of sculpture. +Comparatively few other works of plastic art, in which we here include +coins, that could render us familiar with our heroine’s appearance, have +been preserved. +</p> +<p> +Though the author must especially desire to render his creation a work of +art, it is also requisite to strive for fidelity. As the heroine’s +portrait must reveal her true character, so the life represented here must +correspond in every line with the civilization of the period described. +For this purpose we placed Cleopatra in the centre of a larger group of +people, whom she influences, and who enable her personality to be +displayed in the various relations of life. +</p> +<p> +Should the author succeed in making the picture of the remarkable woman, +who was so differently judged, as “lifelike” and vivid as it stamped +itself upon his own imagination, he might remember with pleasure the hours +which he devoted to this book. +</p> +<p class="signature"> +<span class="sc">Georg Ebers</span> +</p> +<p> +<span class="sc">Tützing on the Starnberger See</span>, <i>October 5, 1893</i>. +</p> + + +<h2 id="cleopatra"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CLEOPATRA. +</h2> + +<h3 id="ch01"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER I. +</h3> + +<p> +Gorgias, the architect, had learned to bear the scorching sunbeams of the +Egyptian noonday. Though not yet thirty, he had directed—first as +his late father’s assistant and afterwards as his successor—the +construction of the huge buildings erected by Cleopatra in Alexandria. +</p> +<p> +Now he was overwhelmed with commissions; yet he had come hither ere the +hours of work were over, merely to oblige a youth who had barely passed +the confines of boyhood. +</p> +<p> +True, the person for whom he made this sacrifice was Cæsarion, the son +whom Cleopatra had given to Julius Cæsar. Antony had honoured him with +the proud title of “King of kings”; yet he was permitted neither to rule +nor even to issue orders, for his mother kept him aloof from affairs of +state, and he himself had no desire to hold the sceptre. +</p> +<p> +Gorgias had granted his wish the more readily, because it was apparent +that he wanted to speak to him in private, though he had not the least +idea what Cæsarion desired to confide, and, under any circumstances, he +could give him only a brief interview. The fleet, at whose head the Queen +had set sail, with Mark Antony, for Greece, must have already met +Octavianus’s galleys, and doubtless a battle wherein the destiny of the +world was decided had also been fought upon the land, Gorgias believed +that the victory would fall to Antony and the Queen, and wished the noble +pair success with his whole heart. He was even obliged to act as if the +battle had been already determined in their favour, for the architectural +preparations for the reception of the conquerors were entrusted to his +charge, and that very day must witness the decision of the location of the +colossal statues which represented Antony hand in hand with his royal +love. +</p> +<p> +The epitrop Mardion, a eunuch, who as Regent, represented Cleopatra; and +Zeno, the Keeper of the Seal, who rarely opposed him, wished to have the +piece of sculpture erected in a different place from the one he favoured. +The principal objection to the choice made by the powerful head of the +government was that it had fallen on land owned by a private individual. +This might lead to difficulties, and Gorgias opposed it. As an artist, +too, he did not approve Mardion’s plan; for though, on Didymus’s land, the +statues would have faced the sea, which the Regent and the Keeper of the +Seal regarded as very important, no fitting background could have been +obtained. +</p> +<p> +At any rate, the architect could now avail himself of Cæsarion’s +invitation to overlook from the appointed place of meeting—the lofty +steps of the Temple of Isis—the Bruchium, and seek the best site for +the twin statues. He was anxious to select the most suitable one; the +master who had created this work of art had been his friend, and had +closed his eyes in death shortly after its completion. +</p> +<p> +The sanctuary whence Gorgias commenced his survey was in one of the +fairest portions of the Bruchium, the Alexandrian quarter, where stood the +royal palace with its extensive annexes, the finest temples—except +the Serapeum, situated in another part of the city—and the largest +theatres; the Forum invited the council of Macedonian citizens to its +assemblies, and the Museum afforded a resort for the scholars. +</p> +<p> +The little square closed in the east by the Temple of Isis was called the +“Corner of the Muses,” on account of the two marble statues of women +before the entrance of the house, which, with its large garden facing the +square northward and extending along the sea, belonged to Didymus, an old +and highly respected scholar and member of the Museum. +</p> +<p> +The day had been hot, and the shade of the Temple of Isis was very welcome +to the architect. This sanctuary rested upon a lofty foundation, and a +long flight of steps led to the cella. The spot afforded Gorgias a wide +prospect. +</p> +<p> +Most of the buildings within his vision belonged to the time of Alexander +and his successors in the house of the Ptolemies, but some, and by no +means the least stately, were the work of Gorgias himself or of his +father. The artist’s heart swelled with enthusiastic delight at the sight +of this portion of his native city. +</p> +<p> +He had been in Rome, and visited many other places numbered among the +world’s fairest and most populous cities; but not one contained so many +superb works of art crowded together in so small a space. +</p> +<p> +“If one of the immortals themselves,” he murmured, “should strive to erect +for the inhabitants of Olympus a quarter meet for their grandeur and +beauty, it could scarcely be much more superb or better fitted to satisfy +the artistic needs which we possess as their gift, and it would surely be +placed on the shore of such a sea.” +</p> +<p> +While speaking, he shaded his keen eyes with his hand. The architect, who +usually devoted his whole attention to the single object that claimed his +notice, now permitted himself the pleasure of enjoying the entire picture +in whose finishing touches he had himself borne a part; and, as his +practised eye perceived in every temple and colonnade the studied and +finished harmony of form, and the admirable grouping of the various +buildings and statues, he said to himself, with a sigh of satisfaction, +that his own art was the noblest and building the highest of royal +pleasures. No doubt this belief was shared by the princes who, three +centuries before, had endeavoured to obtain an environment for their +palaces which should correspond with their vast power and overflowing +wealth, and at the same time give tangible expression to their reverence +for the gods and their delight in art and beauty. No royal race in the +universe could boast of a more magnificent abode. These thoughts passed +through Gorgias’s mind as the deep azure hue of sea and sky blended with +the sunlight to bring into the strongest relief all that the skill and +brains of man, aided by exhaustless resources, had here created. +</p> +<p> +Waiting, usually a hard task for the busy architect, became a pleasure in +this spot; for the rays streaming lavishly in all directions from the +diadem of the sovereign sun flooded with dazzling radiance the thousands +of white marble statues on the temples and colonnades, and were reflected +from the surfaces of the polished granite of the obelisks and the equally +smooth walls of the white, yellow, and green marble, the syenite, and the +brown, speckled porphyry of sanctuaries and palaces. They seemed to be +striving to melt the bright mosaic pictures which covered every foot of +the ground, where no highway intersected and no tree shaded it, and +flashed back again from the glimmering metal or the smooth glaze in the +gay tiles on the roofs of the temples and houses. Here they glittered on +the metal ornaments, yonder they seemed to be trying to rival the +brilliancy of the gilded domes, to lend to the superb green of the +tarnished bronze surfaces the sparkling lustre of the emerald, or to +transform the blue and red lines of the white marble temples into +lapis-lazuli and coral and their gilded decorations into topaz. The +pictures in the mosaic pavement of the squares, and on the inner walls of +the colonnades, were doubly effective against the light masses of marble +surrounding them, which in their turn were indebted to the pictures for +affording the eye an attractive variety instead of dazzling monotony. +</p> +<p> +Here the light of the weltering sun enhanced the brilliancy of colour in +the flags and streamers which fluttered beside the obelisks and Egyptian +pylons, over the triumphal arches and the gates of the temples and +palaces. Yet even the exquisite purplish blue of the banner waving above +the palace on the peninsula of Lochias, now occupied by Cleopatra’s +children, was surpassed by the hue of the sea, whose deep azure near the +shore merged far away into bands of lighter and darker blue, blending with +dull or whitish green. +</p> +<p> +Gorgias was accustomed to grasp fully whatever he permitted to influence +him, and though still loyal to his custom of associating with his art +every remarkable work of the gods or man, he had not forgotten in his +enjoyment of the familiar scene the purpose of his presence in this spot. +</p> +<p> +No, the garden of Didymus was <i>not</i> the proper place for his friend’s last +work. +</p> +<p> +While gazing at the lofty plane, sycamore, and mimosa trees which +surrounded the old scholar’s home, the quiet square below him suddenly +became astir with noisy life, for all classes of the populace were +gathering in front of the sequestered house, as if some unusual spectacle +attracted them. +</p> +<p> +What could they want of the secluded philosopher? +</p> +<p> +Gorgias gazed earnestly at them, but soon turned away again; a gay voice +from below called his name. +</p> +<p> +A singular procession had approached the temple—a small body of +armed men, led by a short, stout fellow, whose big head, covered with +bushy curls, was crowned with a laurel wreath. He was talking eagerly to a +younger man, but had paused with the others in front of the sanctuary to +greet the architect. The latter shouted a few pleasant words in reply. The +laurel-crowned figure made a movement as if he intended to join him, but +his companion checked him, and, after a short parley, the older man gave +the younger one his hand, flung his heavy head back, and strutted onward +like a peacock, followed by his whole train. +</p> +<p> +The other looked after him, shrugging his shoulders; then called to +Gorgias, asking what boon he desired from the goddess. +</p> +<p> +“Your presence,” replied the architect blithely. +</p> +<p> +“Then Isis will show herself gracious to you,” was the answer, and the +next instant the two young men cordially grasped each other’s hands. +</p> +<p> +Both were equally tall and well formed; the features bore witness to their +Greek origin; nay, they might have been taken for brothers, had not the +architect’s whole appearance seemed sturdier and plainer than that of his +companion, whom he called “Dion” and friend. As the latter heaped merry +sarcasms upon the figure wearing the laurel wreath who had just left him, +Anaxenor, the famous zither-player, on whom Antony had bestowed the +revenues of four cities and permission to keep body-guard, and Gorgias’s +deeper voice sometime assented, sometimes opposed with sensible +objections, the difference between these two men of the same age and race +became clearly apparent. +</p> +<p> +Both showed a degree of self-reliance unusual, at their age; but the +architect’s was the assurance which a man gains by toil and his own merit, +Dion’s that which is bestowed by large possession and a high position in +society. Those who were ignorant that the weight of Dion’s carefully +prepared speech had more than once turned the scale in the city councils +would probably have been disposed to take him for one of the careless +worldlings who had no lack of representatives among the gilded youth of +Alexandria; while the architect’s whole exterior, from his keen eye to the +stouter leather of his sandals, revealed earnest purpose and unassuming +ability. +</p> +<p> +Their friendship had commenced when Gorgias built a new palace for Dion. +During long business association people become well acquainted, even +though their conversations relate solely to direction and execution. But +in this case, he who gave the orders had been only the inspirer and +adviser, the architect the warm-hearted friend, eager to do his utmost to +realize what hovered before the other’s mind as the highest attainable +excellence. So the two young men became first dear, and finally almost +indispensable to each other. As the architect discovered in the wealthy +man of the world many qualities whose existence he had not suspected, the +latter was agreeably surprised to find in the artist, associated with his +solidity of character, a jovial companion, who—this first made him +really beloved by his friend—had no lack of weaknesses. +</p> +<p> +When the palace was completed to Dion’s satisfaction and became one of the +most lauded ornaments of the city, the young men’s friendship assumed a +new form, and it would have been difficult to say which received the most +benefit. +</p> +<p> +Dion had just been stopped by the zither-player to ask for confirmation of +the tidings that the united forces of Antony and Cleopatra had gained a +great victory on sea and land. +</p> +<p> +In the eating-house at Kanopus, where he had breakfasted, everyone was +full of the joyful news, and rivers of wine had been drunk to the health +of the victors and the destruction of the malicious foe. +</p> +<p> +“In these days,” cried Dion, “not only weak-brained fellows, +like the zither-player, believe me omniscient, but many sensible men also. +And why? Because, forsooth, I am the nephew of Zeno, the Keeper of the +Seal, who is on the brink of despair because he himself knows nothing, not +even the veriest trifle.” +</p> +<p> +“Yet he stands nearest to the Regent,” observed Gorgias, “and must learn, +if any one does, how the fleet fares.” +</p> +<p> +“You too!” sighed his friend. “Had I been standing so far above the ground +as you, the architect—by the dog, I should not have failed to note +the quarter whence the wind blew! It has been southerly a whole fortnight, +and keeps back the galleys coming from the north. The Regent knows +nothing, absolutely nothing, and my uncle, of course, no more. But if they +do learn anything they will be shrewd enough not to enrich me with it.” +</p> +<p> +“True, there are other rumours afloat,” said the architect thoughtfully. +“If I were in Mardion’s place——” +</p> +<p> +“Thank the Olympians that you are not,” laughed his companion. “He has as +many cares as a fish has scales. And one, the greatest.—That pert young +Antyllus was over-ready with his tongue yesterday at Barine’s. Poor +fellow! He’ll have to answer for it to his tutor at home.” +</p> +<p> +“You mean the remark about the Queen’s accompanying the fleet?” +</p> +<p> +“St!” said Dion, putting his finger on his lips, for many men and women +were now ascending the temple steps. Several carried flowers and cakes, +and the features of most expressed joyful emotion. The news of the victory +had reached their ears, and they wanted to offer sacrifices to the goddess +whom Cleopatra, “the new Isis,” preferred to all others. +</p> +<p> +The first court-yard of the sanctuary was astir with life. They could hear +the ringing of the sistrum bells and the murmuring chant of the priests. +The quiet fore-court of the little temple of the goddess, which here, in +the Greek quarter of palaces, had as few visitors as the great Temple of +Isis in the Rhakotis was overcrowded, had now become the worst possible +rendezvous for men who stood so near the rulers of the government. The +remark made about the Queen the evening before by Antyllus, Antony’s +nineteen-year-old son, at the house of Barine, a beautiful young woman who +attracted all the prominent men in Alexandria, was the more imprudent +because it coincided with the opinion of all the wisest heads. The +reckless youth enthusiastically reverenced his father, but Cleopatra, the +object of Antony’s love, and—in the Egyptians’ eyes—his wife, +was not Antyllus’s mother. He was the son of Fulvia, his father’s first +wife, and feeling himself a Roman, would have preferred a thousand times +to live on the banks of the Tiber. Besides, it was certain—Antony’s +stanchest friends made no attempt to conceal the fact—that the +Queen’s presence with the army exerted a disturbing influence, and could +not fail to curb the daring courage of the brave general. Antyllus, with +the reckless frankness inherited from his father, had expressed this view +in the presence of all Barine’s guests, and in a form which would be only +too quickly spread throughout Alexandria, whose inhabitants relished such +speeches. +</p> +<p> +These remarks would be slow in reaching the plain people who were +attracted to the temple by the news of the victory, yet many doubtless +knew Cæsarion, whom the architect was awaiting here. It would be wiser to +meet the prince at the foot of the steps. Both men, therefore, went down +to the square, though the crowds seeking the temple and thronging the +space before Didymus’s house made it more and more difficult to pace to +and fro. +</p> +<p> +They were anxious to learn whether the rumour that Didymus’s garden was to +be taken for the twin statues had already spread abroad, and their first +questions revealed that this was the case. It was even stated that the old +sage’s house was to be torn down, and within a few hours. This was +vehemently contradicted; but a tall, scrawny man seemed to have undertaken +to defend the ruler’s violence. +</p> +<p> +The friends knew him well. It was the Syrian Philostratus, a clever +extempore speaker and agitator of the people, who placed his clever tongue +at the disposal of the highest bidder. +</p> +<p> +“The rascal is probably now in my uncle’s employ,” said Dion. “The idea of +putting the piece of sculpture there originated with him, and it is +difficult to turn him from such plans. There is some secret object to be +gained here. That is why they have brought Philostratus. I wonder if the +conspiracy is connected in any way with Barine, whose husband—unfortunately +for her—he was before he cast her off.” +</p> +<p> +“Cast her off!” exclaimed Gorgias wrathfully. “How that sounds! True, he +did it, but to persuade him the poor woman sacrificed half the fortune her +father had earned by his brush. You know as well as I that life with that +scoundrel would be unbearable.” +</p> +<p> +“Very true,” replied Dion quietly. “But as all Alexandria melted into +admiration after her singing of the <i>yalemos</i> at the Adonis festival, she +no longer needed her contemptible consort.” +</p> +<p> +“How can you take pleasure, whenever it is possible, in casting such slurs +upon a woman, whom but yesterday you called blameless, charming, +peerless?” +</p> +<p> +“That the light she sheds may not dazzle your eyes. I know how sensitive +they are.” +</p> +<p> +“Then spare, instead of irritating them. Besides, your suggestion gives +food for thought Barine is the granddaughter of the man whose garden they +want, and the advocate would probably be glad to injure both. But I’ll +spoil his game. It is <i>my</i> business to choose the site for the statues.” +</p> +<p> +“Yours?” replied Dion. “Unless some one who is more powerful opposes you. I +would try to win my uncle, but there are others superior to him. The Queen +has gone, it is true; but Iras, whose commands do not die away in empty +air, told me this morning that she had her own ideas about the erection of +the statue.” +</p> +<p> +“Then you bring Philostratus here!” cried the architect. +</p> +<p> +“I?” asked the other in amazement. +</p> +<p> +“Ay, you,” asserted Gorgias. “Did not you say that Iras, with whom you +played when a boy is now becoming troublesome by watching your every step? +And then—you visit Barine constantly and she so evidently prefers +you, that the fact might easily reach the ears of Iras.” +</p> +<p> +“As Argus has a hundred, jealousy has a thousand eyes,” interrupted Dion, +“yet I seek nothing from Barine, save two pleasant hours when the day is +drawing towards its close. No matter; Iras, I suppose, heard that I was +favoured by this much-admired woman. Iras herself has some little regard +for me, so she bought Philostratus. She is willing to pay something for +the sake of injuring the woman who stands between us, or the old man who +has the good or evil fortune of being her rival’s grandfather. No, no; +that would be too base! And believe me, if Iras desired to ruin Barine, +she need not make so long a circuit. Besides, she is not really a wicked +woman. Or is she? All I know is that where any advantage is to be gained +for the Queen, she does not shrink even from doubtful means, and also that +the hours speed swiftly for any one in her society. Yes, Iras, Iras—I +like to utter the name. Yet I do not love her, and she—loves only +herself, and—a thing few can say—another still more. What is +the world, what am I to her, compared with the Queen, the idol of her +heart? Since Cleopatra’s departure, Iras seems like the forsaken Ariadne, +or a young roe which has strayed from its mother. But stop; she may have a +hand in the game: the Queen trusted her as if she were her sister, her +daughter. No one knows what she and Charmian are to her. They are called +waiting-women, but are their sovereign’s dearest friends. When, on the +departure of the fleet, Cleopatra was compelled to leave Iras here—she +was ill with a fever—she gave her the charge of her children, even +those whose beards were beginning to grow, the ‘King of kings’ Cæsarion, +whose tutor punishes him for every act of disobedience; and the unruly lad +Antyllus, who has forced his way the last few evenings into our friend’s +house.” +</p> +<p> +“Antony, his own father, introduced him to her.” +</p> +<p> +“Very true, and Antyllus took Cæsarion there. This vexed Iras, like +everything which may disturb the Queen. Barine is troublesome on account +of Cleopatra, whom she wishes to spare every annoyance, and perhaps she +dislikes her a little for my sake. Now she wants to inflict on the old +man, Barine’s grandfather, whom she loves, some injury which the spoiled, +imprudent woman will scarcely accept quietly, and which will rouse her to +commit some folly that can be used against her. Iras will hardly seek her +life, but she may have in mind exile or something of that kind. She knows +people as well as I know her, my neighbour and playmate, whom many a time +I was obliged to lift down from some tree into which the child had climbed +as nimbly as a kitten.” +</p> +<p> +“I myself suggested this conjecture, yet I cannot credit her with such +unworthy intrigues,” cried Gorgias. +</p> +<p> +“Credit her?” repeated Dion, shrugging his shoulders. “I only transport +myself in imagination to the court and to the soul of the woman who helps +make rain and sunshine there. You have columns rounded and beams hewed +that they may afterwards support the roof to which in due time you wish to +direct attention. She and all who have a voice in the management of court +affairs look first at the roof and then seek anything to raise and support +it, though it should be corpses, ruined lives, and broken hearts. The +point is that the roof shall stand until the architect, the Queen, sees +and approves it. As to the rest—— But there is the carriage—— It +doubtless brings—— You were——” +</p> +<p> +He paused, laid his hand on his friend’s arm, and whispered hastily: “Iras +is undoubtedly at the bottom of this, and it is not Antyllus, but yonder +dreaming lad, for whom she is moving. When she spoke of the statues just +now, she asked in the same breath where I had seen him on the evening of +the day before yesterday, and that was the very time he called on Barine. +The plot was made by her, and Iras is doing all the work. The mouse is not +caught while the trap is closed, and she is just raising her little hand +to open it.” +</p> +<p> +“If only she does not use some man’s hand,” replied the architect +wrathfully, and then turned towards the carriage and the elderly man who +had just left it, and was now approaching the two friends. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch02"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER II. +</h3> + +<p> +When Cæsarion’s companion reached Dion and Gorgias, the former modestly +made a movement to retire. But Archibius was acquainted with both, and +begged him to remain. There was an air of precision and clearness in the +voice and quiet movements of this big, broad-shouldered man, with his +robust frame and well-developed limbs. Though only a few years beyond +forty, not merely his grey hair but the calm, impressive dignity of his +whole manner indicated a more advanced age. +</p> +<p> +“The young King yonder,” he began in a deep, musical voice, motioning +towards the equipage, “wished to speak to you here in person, Gorgias, but +by my advice he refrained from mingling with the crowd. I have brought him +hither in a closed carriage. If the plan suits you, enter it and talk with +him while I keep watch here. Strange things seem to be occurring, and +yonder—or am I mistaken? Has the monster dragged along there any +connection with the twin statues of the Queen and her friend? Was it you +who selected that place for them?” +</p> +<p> +“No,” replied the architect. “The order was issued over my head and +against my will.” +</p> +<p> +“I thought so,” replied the other. “This is the very matter of which +Cæsarion wishes to speak. If you can prevent the erection of the statues +on Didymus’s land, so much the better. I will do everything in my power to +aid you, but in the Queen’s absence that is little.” +</p> +<p> +“Then what can be said of <i>my</i> influence?” asked the architect. “Who, in +these days, knows whether the sky will be blue or grey to-morrow? I can +guarantee one thing only: I will do my best to prevent this injury of an +estimable citizen, interference with the laws of our city, and violation +of good taste.” +</p> +<p> +“Say so to the young King, but express yourself cautiously,” replied +Archibius as the architect turned towards the carriage. +</p> +<p> +As soon as Dion and the older man were alone, the latter inquired the +cause of the increasing uproar, and as, like every well-disposed +Alexandrian, he esteemed Archibius, and knew that he was intimately +acquainted with the owner of the imperilled garden, and therefore with his +granddaughter Barine, he confided his anxiety to him without reserve. +</p> +<p> +“Iras is your niece, it is true,” he said in his open-hearted manner, “but +I know that you understand her character. It suits her now to fling a +golden apple into the path of a person whom she dislikes and believes +incautious, that she may pick it up and thus afford her an opportunity to +bring a charge of theft.” +</p> +<p> +Noting the inquiring glance Archibius fixed upon him as he made this +comparison, he changed his tone and continued more earnestly: “Zeus is +great, but destiny is superior even to him. Zeus can accomplish much, but +when Iras and your sister Charmian, who unfortunately is now with the +Queen, wish to effect anything, he, like the Regent Mardion, must give +way. The more lovable Cleopatra is, the more surely every one prizes a +position near her person above aught else, especially such trifles as law +and justice.” +</p> +<p> +“These are harsh words,” responded Archibius, “and seem the more bitter in +proportion to the germ of truth which they contain. Our court shares the +fate of every other in the East, and those to whom Rome formerly set the +example of holding law and justice sacred——” +</p> +<p> +“Can now go there,” interrupted Dion, “to learn how rudely both are +trampled under foot. The sovereigns here and there may smile at one +another like the augurs. They are like brothers——” +</p> +<p> +“But with the difference,” Archibius broke in, “that the head of our +public affairs is the very embodiment of affability and grace; while in +Rome, on the contrary, harsh severity and bloody arrogance, or even +repulsive servility, guide the reins.” +</p> +<p> +Here Archibius interrupted himself to point to the shouting throng +advancing towards them. “You are right,” Dion answered. “Let us defer this +discussion till we can pursue it in the house of the charming Barine. But +I rarely meet you there, though by blood you are so nearly allied to her +father. I am her friend—at my age that might easily mean her lover. +But in our case the comparison would not suit. Yet perhaps you will +believe me, for you have the right to call yourself the friend of the most +bewitching of women.” +</p> +<p> +A sorrowful smile flitted over the grave, set features of the older man, +who, raising his hand as if in protest, answered carelessly: “I grew up +with Cleopatra, but a private citizen loves a queen only as a divinity. I +believe in your friendship for Barine, though I deem it dangerous.” +</p> +<p> +“If you mean that it might injure the lovely woman,” replied Dion, raising +his head more proudly as if to intimate that he required no warning, even +from him, “perhaps you are right. Only I beg you not to misunderstand me. +I am not vain enough to suppose that I could win her heart, but +unfortunately there are many who cannot forgive the power of attraction +which she exerts over me as well as upon all. So many men gladly visit +Barine’s house that there are an equal number of women who would rejoice +to close it. Among them, of course, is Iras. She dislikes my friend; nay, +I fear that what you witness yonder is the apple she flung in order, if +not to ruin, at least to drive her from the city, ere the Queen—may +the gods grant her victory!—ere Cleopatra returns. You know your +niece Iras. Like your sister Charmian, she will shrink from nothing to +remove an annoyance from her mistress’s pathway, and it will hardly please +Cleopatra when she learns that the two youths whose welfare lies nearest +her heart—Antyllus and Cæsarion—seek Barine’s house, no +matter how stainless the latter’s reputation may be.” +</p> +<p> +“I have just heard of it,” replied Archibius, “and I, too, am anxious. +Antony’s son has inherited much of his father’s insatiable love of +pleasure. But Cæsarion! He has not yet ventured out of the dreamland +which surrounds him into actual life. What others scarcely perceive deals +him a serious blow. I fear Eros is sharpening arrows for him which will +pierce deep into his heart. While talking with me he seemed strangely +changed. His dreamy eyes glittered like a drunkard’s when he spoke of +Barine. I fear, I fear——” +</p> +<p> +“Impossible!” cried Dion, in surprise, nay, almost terror. “If that is the +case, Iras is not wholly wrong, and we must deal with the matter +differently. But it is of the first importance to conceal the fact that +Cæsarion has any interest in the affairs of the old house-owner. To seek +to maintain the old man’s right to his own property is a matter of course, +and I will undertake to do this and try to get yonder orator home—— Just see +how the braggart is swinging his arms in Iras’s service! As for Barine, it +will be well to induce her to leave of her own free will a city where it +will be made unpleasant for her. Try to persuade her to pursue this +course. If I went to her with such a suggestion, I, who yesterday—— No, +no! Besides, she might hear that Iras and I—— She would imagine all +sorts of absurdities. You know what jealousy means. To you, whom she +esteems, she would surely listen, and she need not go far from the city. +If the heart of this enthusiastic boy—who might some day desire to +be ‘King of kings’ not only in name—should really be fired with love +for Barine, what serious misfortune might follow! We must secure her from +him. She could not go to my country house among the papyrus plantations at +Sebennys. It would afford too much license for evil tongues. But you—your +villa at Kanopus is too near—but, if I am not mistaken, you have——” +</p> +<p> +“My estate in the lake region is remote enough, and will be at her +disposal,” interrupted the other. “The house is always kept ready for my +reception. I will do my best to persuade her, for your advice is prudent. +She must be withdrawn from the boy’s eyes.” +</p> +<p> +“I shall learn the result of your mission tomorrow,” cried Dion eagerly—“nay, +this evening. If she consents, I will tell Iras, as if by accident, that +Barine has gone to Upper Egypt to drink new milk, or something of that +kind. Iras is a shrewd woman, and will be glad if she can keep aloof from +such trifles during the time which will decide the fate of Cleopatra and +of the world.” +</p> +<p> +“My thoughts, too, are always with the army,” said Archibius. “How trivial +everything else seems compared with the result which will be determined in +the next few days! But life is made up of trifles. They are food, drink, +maintenance. Should the Queen return triumphant, and find Cæsarion in +wrong paths——” +</p> +<p> +“We must close them against him,” exclaimed Dion. +</p> +<p> +“That the boy may not follow Barine?” asked Archibius, shaking his head. +“I think we need feel no anxiety on that score. He will doubtless eagerly +desire to do so, but with him there is a wide gulf between the wish and +its fulfilment. Antyllus is differently constituted. He would be quite +capable of ordering a horse to be saddled, or the sails of a boat to be +spread in order to pursue her—beyond the Cataract if necessary. So +we must maintain the utmost secrecy concerning the place to which Barine +voluntarily exiles herself.” +</p> +<p> +“But she is not yet on her way,” replied Dion with a faint sigh. “She is +bound to this city by many ties.” +</p> +<p> +“I know it,” answered Archibius, confirming his companion’s fear. The +latter, pointing to the equipage, said in a rapid, earnest tone: “Gorgias +is beckoning. But, before we part, let me beseech you to do everything to +persuade Barine to leave here. She is in serious danger. Conceal nothing +from her, and say that her friends will not leave her too long in +solitude.” +</p> +<p> +Archibius, with a significant glance, shook his finger at the young man in +playful menace, and then went up to the carriage. +</p> +<p> +Cæsarion’s clear-cut but pallid face, whose every feature resembled that +of his father, the great Cæsar, bent towards them from the opening above +the door, as he greeted both with a formal bend of the head and a +patronizing glance. His eyes had sparkled with boyish glee when he first +caught sight of the friend from whom he had been separated several weeks, +but to the stranger he wished to assume the bearing which beseemed a king. +He desired to make him feel his superior position, for he was ill-disposed +towards him. He had seen him favoured by the woman whom he imagined he +loved, and whose possession he had been promised by the secret science of +the Egyptians, whose power to unveil the mysteries of the future he firmly +believed. Antyllus, Antony’s son, had taken him to Barine, and she had +received him with the consideration due his rank. Spite of her bright +graciousness, boyish timidity had hitherto prevented any word of love to +the young beauty whom he saw surrounded by so many distinguished men of +mature years. Yet his beaming, expressive eyes must have revealed his +feelings to her. Doubtless his glances had not been unobserved, for only a +few hours before an Egyptian woman had stopped him at the temple of his +father, Cæsar, to which, according to the fixed rules governing the +routine of his life, he went daily at a certain hour to pray, to offer +sacrifices, to anoint the stone of the altar, or to crown the statue of +the departed emperor. +</p> +<p> +Cæsarion had instantly recognized her as the female slave whom he had +seen in Barine’s atrium, and ordered his train to fall back. +</p> +<p> +Fortunately his tutor, Rhodon, had not fulfilled his duty of accompanying +him. So the youth had ventured to follow the slave woman, and in the +shadow of the mimosas, in the little grove beside the temple, he found +Barine’s litter. His heart throbbed violently as, full of anxious +expectation, he obeyed her signal to draw nearer. Still, she had granted +him nothing save the favour of gratifying one of her wishes. But his heart +had swelled almost to bursting when, resting her beautiful white arm on +the door of her litter, she had told him that unjust men were striving to +rob her grandfather Didymus of his garden, and she expected him, who bore +the title of the “King of kings” to do his best to prevent such a crime. +</p> +<p> +It had been difficult for him to grasp her meaning while she was speaking. +There was a roaring sound in his ears as if, instead of being in the +silent temple grove, he was standing on a stormy day upon the surf-beaten +promontory of Lochias. He had not ventured to raise his eyes and look into +her face. Not until she closed with the question whether she might hope +for his assistance did her gaze constrain him to glance up. Ah, what had +he not fancied he read in her imploring blue eyes! how unspeakably +beautiful she had appeared! +</p> +<p> +He had stood before her as if bereft of his senses. His sole knowledge was +that he had promised, with his hand on his heart, to do everything in his +power to prevent what threatened to cause her pain. Then her little hand, +with its sparkling rings, was again stretched towards him, and he had +resolved to kiss it; but while he glanced around at his train, she had +already waved him a farewell, and the litter was borne away. +</p> +<p> +He stood motionless, like the figure of a man on one of his mother’s +ancient vases, staring in bewilderment after the flying figure of +Happiness, whom he might easily have caught by her floating locks. How he +raged over the miserable indecision which had defrauded him of so much +joy! Yet nothing was really lost. If he succeeded in fulfilling her +wishes, she could not fail to be grateful; and then—— +</p> +<p> +He pondered over the person to whom he should apply—Mardion, the +Regent, or the Keeper of the Seal? No, they had planned the erection of +the group of sculpture in the philosopher’s garden. To Iras, his mother’s +confidante? Nay, last of all to her. The cunning woman would have +perceived his purpose and betrayed it to the Regent. Ah, if Charmian, his +mother’s other attendant, had been present! but she was with the fleet, +which perhaps was even now engaged in battle with the enemy. +</p> +<p> +At this recollection his eyes again sought the ground—he had not +been permitted to take the place in the army to which his birth entitled +him, while his mother and Charmian—— But he did not pursue this +painful current of thought; for a serious reproach had forced itself upon +him and sent the blood to his cheeks. He wished to be considered a man, +and yet, in these fateful days, which would determine the destiny of his +mother, his native city, Egypt, and that Rome which he, the only son of +Cæsar, was taught to consider his heritage, he was visiting a beautiful +woman, thinking of her, and of her alone. His days and half the nights +were passed in forming plans for securing her love, forgetful of what +should have occupied his whole heart. +</p> +<p> +Only yesterday Iras had sharply admonished him that, in times like these, +it was the duty of every friend of Cleopatra, and every foe of her foes, +to be with the army at least in mind. +</p> +<p> +He had remembered this, but, instead of heeding the warning, the thought +of her had merely recalled her uncle, Archibius, who possessed great +influence, not merely on account of his wealth but because every one also +knew his high standing in the regard of the Queen. Besides, the clever, +kindly man had always been friendly to him from childhood, and like a +revelation came the idea of applying to him, and to the architect Gorgias, +who had a voice in the matter, and by whom he had been strongly attracted +during the period while he was rebuilding the wing assigned to the prince +in the palace at Lochias. +</p> +<p> +So one of the attendants was instantly despatched with the little tablet +which invited Gorgias to the interview at the Temple of Isis. +</p> +<p> +Then, in the afternoon, Cæsarion went secretly in a boat to the little +palace of Archibius, situated on the seashore at Kanopus, and now as the +latter, with his friend, stood beside the carriage door, he explained to +them that he was going with the architect to old Didymus to assure him of +his assistance. +</p> +<p> +This was unadvisable in every respect, but it required all the weight of +the older man’s reasons to induce the prince to yield. The consequences +which might ensue, should the populace discover that he was taking sides +against the Regent, would be incalculable. But submission and withdrawal +were especially difficult to the young “King of kings.” He longed to pose +as a man in Dion’s presence, and as this could not be, he strove to +maintain the semblance of independence by yielding his resolve only on the +plea of not desiring to injure the aged scholar and his granddaughter. +Finally, he again entreated the architect to secure Didymus in the +possession of his property. When at last he drove away with Archibius, +twilight was already gathering, torches were lighted in front of the +temple and the little mausoleum adjoining the cella, and pitch-pans were +blazing in the square. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch03"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER III. +</h3> + +<p> +“The lad is in an evil plight,” said Gorgias, shaking his head +thoughtfully as the equipage rolled over the stone pavement of the Street +of the King. +</p> +<p> +“And over yonder,” added Dion, “the prospect is equally unpleasing. +Philostratus is setting the people crazy. But the hired mischief-maker +will soon wish he had been less ready to seize Iras’s gold coins.” +</p> +<p> +“And to think,” cried the architect, “that Barine was this scoundrel’s +wife! How could it be——” +</p> +<p> +“She was but a child when they married her,” interrupted Dion. “Who +consults a girl of fifteen in the choice of a husband? And Philostratus—he +was my classmate at Rhodus—at that time had the fairest prospects. +His brother Alexas, Antony’s favourite, could easily advance him. Barine’s +father was dead, her mother was accustomed to follow Didymus’s counsel, +and the clever fellow had managed to strew dust in the old man’s eyes. +Long and lank as he is, he is not bad-looking even now. When he appeared +as an orator he pleased his hearers. This turned his head, and a +spendthrift’s blood runs in his veins. To bring his fair young +bride to a stately mansion, he undertook the bad cause of the thievish +tax-collector Pyrrhus, and cleared him.” +</p> +<p> +“He bought a dozen false witnesses.” +</p> +<p> +“There were sixteen. Afterwards they became as numerous as the open mouths +you see shouting yonder. It is time to silence them. Go to the old man’s +house and soothe him—Barine also, if she is there. If you find +messengers from the Regent, raise objections to the unprecedented decree. +You know the portions of the law which can be turned to Didymus’s +advantage.” +</p> +<p> +“Since the reign of Euergetes II, registered landed property has been +unassailable, and his was recorded.” +</p> +<p> +“So much the better. Tell the officials also, confidentially, that you +know of objections just discovered which may perhaps change the Regent’s +views.” +</p> +<p> +“And, above all, I shall insist upon my right to choose the place for the +twin statues. The Queen herself directed the others to heed my opinion.” +</p> +<p> +“That will cast the heaviest weight into the scale. We shall meet later. +You will prefer to keep away from Barine to-night. If you see her, tell +her that Archibius said he would visit her later—for an object I +will explain afterwards. I shall probably go to Iras to bring her to +reason. It will be better not to mention Cæsarion’s wish.” +</p> +<p> +“Certainly—and you will give nothing to yonder brawler.” +</p> +<p> +“On the contrary. I feel very generous. If Peitho will aid me, the +insatiate fellow will get more than may be agreeable to him.” +</p> +<p> +Then grasping the architect’s hand, Dion forced his way through the throng +surrounding the high platform on wheels, upon which the closely covered +piece of sculpture had been rolled up. The gate of the scholar’s house +stood open, for an officer in the Regent’s service had really entered a +short time before, but the Scythian guards sent by the exegetus Demetrius, +one of Barine’s friends, were keeping back the throng of curious +spectators. +</p> +<p> +Their commander knew Gorgias, and he was soon standing in the impluvium of +the scholar’s house, an oblong, roofless space, with a fountain in the +centre, whose spray moistened the circular bed of flowers around it. The +old slave had just lighted some three-branched lamps which burned on tall +stands. The officers sent by the Regent to inform Didymus that his garden +would be converted into a public square had just arrived. +</p> +<p> +When Gorgias entered, these magistrates, their clerks, and the witnesses +accompanying them—a group of twenty men, at whose head was +Apollonius, a distinguished officer of the royal treasury—were in +the house. The slave who admitted the architect informed him of it. +</p> +<p> +In the atrium a young girl, doubtless a member of the household, stopped +him. He was not mistaken in supposing that she was Helena, Didymus’s +younger granddaughter, of whom Barine had spoken. True, she resembled her +sister neither in face nor figure, for while the young matron’s hair was +fair and waving, the young girl’s thick black tresses were wound around +her head in a smooth braid. Very unlike Barine’s voice, too, were the +deep, earnest tones trembling with emotion, in which she confronted him +with the brief question, concealing a faint reproach, “Another demand?” +</p> +<p> +After first ascertaining that he was really speaking to Helena, his +friend’s sister, he hastily told her his name, adding that, on the +contrary, he had come to protect her grandfather from a serious +misfortune. +</p> +<p> +When his glance first rested upon her in the dimly lighted room, the +impression she made upon him was by no means favourable. The pure brow, +which seemed to him too high for a woman’s face, wore an indignant frown; +and though her mouth was beautiful in form, its outlines were often marred +by a passionate tremor that lent the exquisitely chiselled features a +harsh, nay, bitter expression. But she had scarcely heard the motive of +his presence ere, pressing her hand upon her bosom with a sigh of relief, +she eagerly exclaimed: +</p> +<p> +“Oh, do what you can to avert this terrible deed! No one knows how the old +man loves this house. And my grandmother! They will die if it is taken +from them.” +</p> +<p> +Her large eyes rested upon him with a warm, imploring light; and the +stern, almost repellent voice thrilled with love for her relatives. He +must lend his aid here, and how gladly he would do so! He assured her of +this; and Helena, who had heard him mentioned as a man of ability, saw in +him a helper in need, and begged him, with touching fervour, to show her +grandfather, when he came before the officers, that all was not lost. +</p> +<p> +The astonished architect asked if Didymus did not know what was impending, +and Helena hastily replied: +</p> +<p> +“He is working in the summer-house by the sea. Apollonius is a +kind-hearted man, and will wait until I have prepared my grandfather. I +must go to him. He has already sent Philotas—his pupil, who finds +and unrolls his books—a dozen times to inquire the cause of the +tumult outside; but I replied that the crowds were flocking to the harbour +on account of the Queen. There is often a mob shouting madly; but nothing +disturbs my grandfather when he is absorbed in his work; and his pupil—a +young student from Amphissa—loves him and does what I bid him. My +grandmother, too, knows nothing yet. She is deaf, and the female slaves +dare not tell her. After her recent attack of giddiness, the doctor said +that any sudden shock might injure her. If only I can find the right +words, that my grandfather may not be too sorely hurt!” +</p> +<p> +“Shall I accompany you?” asked Gorgias kindly. +</p> +<p> +“No,” she answered hurriedly. “He needs time ere he will trust strangers. +Only, if Apollonius discloses the terrible truth, and his grief threatens +to overpower him, comfort him, and show him that we still have friends who +are ready to protect us from such disaster.” +</p> +<p> +She waved her hand in token of gratitude, and hurried through the little +side gate into the garden. +</p> +<p> +Gorgias looked after her with sparkling eyes, and drew a long breath. How +good this girl must be, how wisely she cared for her relatives! How +energetically the young creature behaved! He had seen his new acquaintance +only in the dim light, but she must be beautiful. Her eyes, lips, and hair +certainly were. How his heart throbbed as he asked himself the question +whether this young girl, who was endowed with every gift which constituted +the true worth of womanhood, was not preferable to her more attractive +sister Barine!—when the thought darted through his mind that he had +cause to be grateful to the beard which covered his chin and cheeks, for +he felt that he, a sedate, mature man, must have blushed. And he knew why. +Only half an hour before he had felt and admitted to Dion that he +considered Barine the most desirable of women, and now another’s +image cast a deep shadow over hers and filled his heart with new, perhaps +stronger emotions. +</p> +<p> +He had had similar experiences only too often, and his friends, Dion at +their head, had perceived his weakness and spoiled many an hour for him by +their biting jests. The series of tall and short, fair and dark beauties +who had fired his fancy was indeed of considerable length, and every one +on whom he had bestowed his quickly kindled affections had seemed to him +the one woman he must make his own, if he would be a happy man. But ere he +had reached the point of offering his hand, the question had arisen in his +mind whether he might not love another still more ardently. So he had +begun to persuade himself that his heart yearned for no individual, but +the whole sex—at least the portion which was young and could feel +love—and therefore he would scarcely be wise to bind himself to any +one. True, he knew that he was capable of fidelity, for he clung to his +friends with changeless loyalty, and was ready to make any sacrifice in +their behalf. With women, however, he dealt differently. Was Helena’s +image, which now floated before him so bewitchingly, destined to fade as +swiftly? The contrary would have been remarkable. Yet he firmly believed +that this time Eros meant honestly by him. The laughing loves who twined +their rose garlands around him and Helena’s predecessors had nothing to do +with this grave maiden. +</p> +<p> +These reflections darted through his brain with the speed of lightning, +and still stirred his heart when he was ushered into the impluvium, where +the magistrates were impatiently awaiting the owner of the house. With the +lucidity peculiar to him, he explained his reasons for hoping that their +errand would be vain, and Apollonius replied that no one would rejoice +more than he himself if the Regent should authorize him, on the morrow, to +countermand his mission. He would gladly wait there longer to afford the +old man’s granddaughter an opportunity to soften the tidings of the +impending misfortune. +</p> +<p> +The kind-hearted man’s patience, however, was not tested too long; for +when Helena entered the summer-house Didymus had already been informed of +the disaster which threatened him and his family. The philosopher +Euphranor, an elderly member of the Museum, had reached him through the +garden gate, and, spite of Philotas’s warning sign, told him what was +occurring. But Didymus knew the old philosopher, who, a recluse from the +world like himself, was devoting the remainder of his life and strength to +the pursuit of science. So he only shook his head incredulously, pushed +back the thin locks of grey hair which hung down on his cheeks over the +barest part of his skull, and exclaimed reproachfully, though as if the +matter under discussion was of the most trivial importance: “What have you +been hearing? We’ll see about it!” +</p> +<p> +He had risen as he spoke, and too abruptly surprised by the news to +remember the sandals on the mat and the upper robe which lay on a chest of +drawers at the end of the room, he was in the act of quitting it, when his +friend, who had silently watched his movements, stopped him, and Helena +entered. +</p> +<p> +The grey-haired sage turned to her, and, vexed by his friend’s doubts, +begged her to convince her grandfather that even matters which do not +please us may nevertheless be of some importance. She did so as +considerately as possible, thinking meanwhile of the architect and his +hopes. +</p> +<p> +Didymus, with his eyes bent on the ground, shook his grey head again and +again. Then, suddenly raising it, he rushed to the door, and without +heeding the upper garment which Helena still held in her hand, tore it +open, shouting, “But things must and shall be changed!” +</p> +<p> +Euphranor and his granddaughter followed. Though his head was bowed, he +crossed the little garden with a swift, firm tread, and, without noticing +the questions and warnings of his companions, walked at once to the +impluvium. The bright light dazzled his weakened eyes, and his habit of +gazing into vacancy or on the ground compelled him to glance from side to +side for some time, ere he could accustom himself to it. Apollonius +approached, greeted him respectfully, and assured him that he deeply +regretted having interrupted him in the work for which the whole world was +waiting, but he had come on important business. +</p> +<p> +“I know, I know,” the old scholar answered with a smile of superiority. +“What is all this ado about?” +</p> +<p> +As he spoke he looked around the group of spectators, among whom he knew +no one except Apollonius, who had charge of the museum accounts, and the +architect, for whom he had composed the inscription on the Odeum, which he +had recently built. But when his eyes met only unfamiliar faces, the +confidence which hitherto had sustained him began to waver, though still +convinced that a demand such as the philosopher suggested could not +possibly be made upon him, he continued: “It is stated that there is a +plan for turning my garden into a public square. And for what purpose? To +erect a piece of sculpture. But there can be nothing serious in the +rumour, for my property is recorded in the land register, and the law——” +</p> +<p> +“Pardon me,” Apollonius broke in, “if I interrupt you. We know the +ordinance to which you refer, but this case is an exceptional one. The +Regent desires to take nothing from you. On the contrary, he offers, in +the name of the Queen, any compensation you yourself may fix for the piece +of land which is to be honoured by the statues of the highest personages +in the country—Cleopatra and Antony, hand in hand. The piece of +sculpture has already been brought here. A work by the admirable artist +Lysander, who passed too early to the nether world, certainly will not +disfigure your house. The little summer-house by the sea must be removed +to-morrow, it is true; you know that our gracious Queen may return any +day—victorious if the immortals are just. This piece of sculpture, which +is created in her honour, to afford her pleasure, must greet her on her +arrival, so the Regent send me to-day to communicate his wish, which, as +he represents the Queen——” +</p> +<p> +“Yet,” interrupted the architect, who had again warmly assured the old +man’s granddaughter of his aid—“yet your friends will endeavour to +persuade the Regent to find another place for the statues.” +</p> +<p> +“They are at liberty to do so,” said the officer. “What will happen later +the future will show. My office merely requires me to induce the worthy +owner of this house and garden to submit to-day to the Queen’s command, +which the Regent and my own heart bid me clothe in the form of a request.” +</p> +<p> +During this conversation the old man had at first listened silently to the +magistrate’s words, gazing intently into his face. So it was true. The +demand to yield up his garden, and even the little house, for fifty years +the scene of his study and creative work, for the sake of a statue, would +be made. Since this had become a certainty, he had stood with his eyes +fixed upon the ground. Grief had paralyzed his tongue, and Helena, who +felt this, for the aged head seemed as if it were bending under a heavy +burden, had drawn close to his side. +</p> +<p> +The shouts and howls of the throng outside echoed through the open roof of +the impluvium, but the old man did not seem to hear them, and did not even +notice his granddaughter. Yet, no sooner did he feel her touch than he +hurriedly shrank away, flung back his drooping head, and gazed around the +circle of intruders. +</p> +<p> +The dull, questioning eyes of the old commentator and writer of many books +now blazed with the hot fire of youthful passion and, like a wrestler who +seeks the right grip, he measured Apollonius and his companions with +wrathful glances. The fragile recluse seemed transformed into a warrior +ready for battle. His lips and the nostrils of his delicate nose quivered, +and when Apollonius began to say that it would be wise to remove the +contents of the summer-house that day, as it would be torn down early the +next morning, Didymus raised his arms, exclaiming: +</p> +<p> +“That will not be done. Not a single roll shall be removed! They will find +me at work as usual early to-morrow morning, and if it is still your wish +to rob me of my property you must use violence to attain your purpose.” +</p> +<p> +“Calm yourself,” replied Apollonius. “Every one beneath the moon must +submit to a higher power; the gods bow to destiny, we mortals to the +sovereign. You are a sage; I, merely mindful of the behests of duty, +administer my office. But I know life, and if I may offer my counsel, you +will accept what cannot be averted, and I will wager ten to one that you +will have the best of it; that the Queen will place in your hands means——” +</p> +<p> +“Sufficient to build a palace on the site of the little house of which I +was robbed,” Didymus interrupted bitterly. Then rage burst forth afresh +“What do I care for your money? I want my rights, my good, guaranteed +rights. I insist upon them, and whoever assails the ground which my +grandfather and father bequeathed to me——” +</p> +<p> +He hesitated, for the throng outside had burst into a loud shout of joy; +and when it died away, and the old man began once more defiantly to claim +his rights, he was interrupted by a woman’s clear tones, addressing him +with the Greek greeting, “Rejoice!”—a voice so gay and musical that +it seemed to dispel the depression which rested like a grey fog on the +whole company. +</p> +<p> +While Didymus was listening to the excited populace, and the new-comer was +gazing at the old man whose rigid obstinacy could scarcely be conquered by +kindness, the younger men were looking at the beautiful woman who joined +them. Her haste had flushed her cheeks, and from beneath the +turquoise-blue kerchief that covered her fair locks a bewitching face +smiled at her sister, the architect, and her grandfather. +</p> +<p> +Apollonius and many of his companions felt as if happiness in person had +entered this imperilled house, and many an eye brightened when the +infuriated old man exclaimed in an altered tone, “You here, Barine?” and +she, without heeding the presence of the others, kissed his cheek with +tender affection. +</p> +<p> +Helena, Gorgias, and the old philosopher Euphranor, had approached her, +and when the latter asked with loving reproach, “Why, Barine, how did you +get through the howling mob?” she answered gaily: “That a learned member +of the Museum may receive me with the query whether I am here, though from +childhood a kind or—what do you think, grandfather?—a malign +fate has preserved me from being overlooked, and some one else reprovingly +asks how I passed through the shouting mob, as if it were a crime to wade +into the water to hold out a helping hand to those we love best when it is +up to their chins! But, oh! dear, this howling is too hideous!” +</p> +<p> +While speaking, she pressed her little hands on the part of the kerchief +which concealed her ears, and said no more until the noise subsided, +although she declared that she was in a hurry, and had only come to learn +how matters were. Meanwhile it seemed as if she was so full of quick, +pulsing life, that it was impossible to leave even a moment unused, if it +were merely to bestow or answer a friendly glance. +</p> +<p> +The architect and her sister were obliged to return hurried answers to +hasty questions; and as soon as she ascertained what had brought the +strangers there she thanked Apollonius, and said that old friends would do +their best to spare her grandfather such a sorrow. +</p> +<p> +In reply to repeated inquiries from the two old men in regard to her +arrival there, she answered: “Nobody will believe it, because in this +hurry I could not keep my mouth shut; but I acted like a mute fish and +reached the water.” Then, drawing her grandfather aside, she whispered to +him that, when she left her boat at the harbour, Archibius had seen her +from his carriage, and instantly stopped it to inform her of his intended +visit that evening. He was coming to discuss an important matter. +Therefore she must receive the worthy man, whom she sincerely liked, so +she could not stay. Then turning to the others—still with her kerchief on +her head ready for departure—she asked what the people meant by +their outcries. The architect replied that Philostratus had endeavoured to +make the crowd believe that the only appropriate site for the statues of +which she had heard was her grandfather’s garden, and he thought he knew +in whose behalf the fellow was acting. +</p> +<p> +“Certainly not in the Regent’s,” said Apollonius, in a tone of sincere +conviction; but Barine, over whose sunny brow a shadow had flitted when +Gorgias uttered the orator’s name, assented with a slight bend of the +head, and then whispered hurriedly, yet earnestly, that she would answer +for the old man’s allowing himself to be persuaded, if he had only time to +collect his thoughts. +</p> +<p> +The next morning, when the market was crowded, the officer might commence +his negotiations afresh, if the Regent insisted on his plan. Meanwhile she +would do her best to persuade her grandfather to yield, though he was not +exactly one of the class who are easily guided. Apollonius might remind +the Regent that it would be advisable at this time to avoid a public +scandal, to remember Didymus’s age, and the validity of his claim. +</p> +<p> +While Apollonius was talking with his companions, Barine beckoned to the +architect, and hastily took leave of the others, protesting that she was +in no danger, since she would slip away again like a fish, only this time +she would use her tongue, and hoped by its means to win to the support of +Didymus’s just cause a man who would already have ended all the trouble +had the Queen only been in Alexandria. +</p> +<p> +Until now the eyes and ears of the whole company had been fixed upon +Barine. No one had desired anything better than to gaze at and listen to +her. +</p> +<p> +Not until she had quitted the room with Gorgias did the officials discuss +the matter together, and soon after Apollonius went away with his +companions, to hold another conference with the Regent about this +unpleasant business. This time the architect had followed the young beauty +with very mingled feelings. Only an hour before he would have rejoiced to +be permitted to accompany and protect Barine; now he would have gladly +remained with her sister, who had returned his farewell greeting so +gratefully and yet with such maidenly modesty. But even the most +vacillating man cannot change one fancy for another as he would replace a +black piece on the draughtboard with a white one, and he still found it +delightful to be so near Barine. Only the thought that Helena might +believe that he stood on very intimate terms with her sister had darted +with a disquieting influence through his brain when the latter invited him +to accompany her. +</p> +<p> +In the garden Barine begged him, before they went to the landing-place +where the boat was moored, to help her ascend the narrow flight of steps +leading to the flat roof of the gatekeeper’s little house. +</p> +<p> +Here they could watch unseen the tumult in the square below, for it was +surrounded by dense laurel bushes. Bright flames were blazing in the +pitch-pans before the two temples at the side of the Corner of the Muses, +and their light was increased by the torches held in the hands of +Scythians. Yet no individuals could be distinguished in the throng. The +marble walls of the temples shimmered, the statues at Didymus’s gate, and +the hermæ along the street of the King which passed the threatened house +and connected the north of the Corner of the Muses with the sea-shore, +loomed from the darkness in the brilliancy of the reflected light, but the +smoke of the torches darkened the sky and dimmed the starlight. +</p> +<p> +The only persons distinctly visible were Dion, who had stationed himself +on the lofty framework of the platform on which the muffled statues had +been drawn hither, and the attorney Philostratus, who stood on the +pedestal of one of the dolphins which surrounded the fountain between the +Temple of Isis and the street. The space, a dozen paces wide, which +divided them, permitted the antagonists to understand each other, and the +attention of the whole throng was fixed upon the wranglers. +</p> +<p> +These verbal battles were one of the greatest pleasures of the +Alexandrians, and they greeted every clever turn of speech with shouts of +applause, every word which displeased them with groans, hisses, and +cat-calls. +</p> +<p> +Barine could see and hear what was passing below. She had pushed aside the +foliage of the laurel bushes which concealed her, and, with her hand +raised to her ear, stood listening to the two disputants. When the +scoundrel whom she had called husband, and for whom her contempt had +become too deep for hate, sneeringly assailed her family as having been +fed from generation to generation from the corn-bin of the Museum, she bit +her lips. But they soon curled, as if what she heard aroused her disgust, +for the speaker now turned to Dion and accused him of preventing the +kindly disposed Regent from increasing the renown of the great Queen and +affording her noble heart a pleasure. +</p> +<p> +“My tongue,” he cried, “is the tool which supports me. Why am I using it +here till it is weary and almost paralyzed? In honour of Cleopatra, our +illustrious Queen, and her generous friend, to whom we all owe a debt of +gratitude. Let all who love her and the divine Antony, the new Herakles +and Dionysus—both will soon make their entry among us crowned with +the laurels of victory—join the Regent and every well-disposed +person in seizing yonder bit of land so meanly withheld by base avarice +and a sentiment—a sentiment, do you hear?—which I do not name +more plainly, simply because wickedness is repulsive to me, and I do not +stand here as an accuser. Whoever upholds the word-monger who spouts forth +books as the dolphin at my side does water, may do so. I shall not envy +him. But first look at Didymus’s ally and panegyrist. There he stands +opposite to me. It would have been better for him had the dolphin at his +feet taught him silence. Then he might have remained in the obscurity +which befits him. But whether willing or not, I must drag him forth, and +I will show you Dion, fellow-citizens, though I would far rather have you +see things which arouse less ire. The dim light prevents your +distinguishing the colour of his robe, but I know it, for I saw it in the +glare of day. It is hyacinthine purple. You know what that costs. It +would support the wives and children of many among you for ten long years. +‘How heavy must be the purse which can expose such a treasure to sun +and rain!’ is the thought of every one who sees him strutting about +as proudly as a peacock. And his purse <i>is</i> loaded with many talents. Only +it is a pity that, day after day, most of you must give your children a +little less bread and deprive yourselves of many a draught of wine to +deck him out so bravely. His father, Eumenes, was a tax-collector, and +what the leech extorted from you and your children, the son now uses to +drive, clad in hyacinthine purple, a four-horse chariot, which splashes +the mire from the street into your faces as it rolls onward. By the dog! +the gentleman does not weigh so very much, yet he needs four horses to +drag him. And, fellow-citizens, do you know why? I’ll tell you. +He’s afraid of sticking fast everywhere, even in his speech.” +</p> +<p> +Here Philostratus lowered his voice, for the phrase “sticking fast” had +drawn a laugh from some of his hearers; but Dion, whose father had really +amassed, in the high position of a receiver of taxes, the handsome fortune +which his son possessed, did not delay his reply. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, yes,” he retorted scornfully, “yonder Syrian babbler hit the mark +this time. He stands before me, and who does not easily stick fast when +marsh and mire are so near? As for the hyacinthine purple cloak, I wear it +because I like it. His crocus-yellow one is less to my taste, though he +certainly looks fine enough in it in the sunlight. It shines like a +buttercup in the grass. You know the plant. When it fades—and I ask +whether you think Philostratus looks like a bud—when it fades, it +leaves a hollow spiral ball which a child’s breath could blow away. +Suppose in future we should call the round buttercup seed-vessels +‘Philostratus heads’? You like the suggestion? I am glad, fellow-citizens, +and I thank you. It proves your good taste. Then we will stick to the +comparison. Every head contains a tongue, and Philostratus says that his +is the tool which supports him.” +</p> +<p> +“Hear the money-bag, the despiser of the people!” interrupted Philostratus +furiously. “The honest toil by which a citizen earns a livelihood is a +disgrace in his eyes.” +</p> +<p> +“<i>Honest</i> toil, my good friend,” replied Dion, “is scarcely in question +here. I spoke only of <i>your</i> tongue.—You understand me, +fellow-citizens. Or, if any of you are not yet acquainted with this worthy +man, I will show him to you, for I know him well. He is my foe, yet I can +sincerely recommend him to many of you. If any one has a very bad, +shamefully corrupt cause to bring before the courts, I most earnestly +counsel him to apply to the buttercup man perched on yonder fountain. He +will thank me for it. Believe me, Didymus’s cause is just, precisely +because this advocate so eagerly assails it. I told you just now the +matter under discussion. Which of you who owns a garden can say in future, +‘It is mine,’ if, during the absence of the Queen, it is allowable to take +it away to be used for any other purpose? But this is what threatens +Didymus. If this is to be the custom here, let every one beware of sowing +a radish or planting a bush or a tree, for should the wife of some great +noble desire to dry her linen there, he may be deprived of it ere the +former can ripen or the latter give shade.” +</p> +<p> +Loud applause followed this sentence, but Philostratus shouted in a voice +that echoed far and wide: “Hear me, fellow-citizens; do not allow your +selves to be deceived! No one is to be robbed here. The project is to +purchase, at a high price, the spot which the city needs for her +adornment, and to honour and please the Queen. Are the Regent and the +citizens to lose this opportunity of expressing the gratitude of years, +and the rejoicing over the greatest of victories, of which we shall soon +hear, because an evil-disposed person—the word must be uttered—a +foe to his country, opposes it?” +</p> +<p> +“Now the mire is coming too near me,” Dion angrily responded, “and I might +really stick fast, as I was warned; for I do not envy the ready presence +of mind of any person whose tongue would not falter when the basest +slander scattered its venom over him. You all know, fellow-citizens, +through how many generations the Didymus family has lived to the honour of +this city, doing praiseworthy work in yonder house. You know that the good +old man who dwells there was one of the teachers of the royal children.” +</p> +<p> +“And yet,” cried Philostratus, “only the day before yesterday he walked +arm in arm in the Paneum garden with Arius, the tutor of Octavianus, our +own and our Queen’s most hated foe. In my presence, and before I know not +how many others, Didymus distinguished this Arius as his most beloved +pupil.” +</p> +<p> +“To give you that title,” retorted Dion, “would certainly fill any teacher +with shame and anger, no matter how far you had surpassed him in wisdom +and knowledge. Nay, had you been committed to the care of the herring +dealers, instead of the rhetoricians, every honest man among them would +disown you, for they sell only good wares for good money, while you give +the poorest in exchange for glittering gold. This time you trample under +foot the fair name of an honourable man. But I will not suffer it; and you +hear, fellow-citizens, I now challenge this Syrian to prove that Didymus +ever betrayed his native land, or I will brand him in your presence a base +slanderer, an infamous, venal destroyer of character!” +</p> +<p> +“An insult from such lips is easily borne,” replied Philostratus in a tone +of scornful superiority; but there was a pause ere he again turned to the +listening throng, and with all the warmth he could throw into his voice +continued: “What do I desire, then, fellow-citizens? What is the sole +object of my words? I stand here with clean hands, impelled solely by the +impulse of my heart, to plead for the Queen. In order to secure the only +suitable site for the statues to be erected to Cleopatra’s honour and +fame, I enter into judgment with her foes, expose myself to the insult +with which boastful insolence is permitted to vent its wrath upon me. But +I am not dismayed, though, in pursuing this course, I am acting against +the law of Nature; for the infamous man against whom I raise my voice was +my teacher, too, and ere he turned from the path of right and virtue—under +influences which I will not mention here—he numbered me also, in the +presence of many witnesses, among his best pupils. I was certainly one of +the most grateful—I chose his granddaughter—the truth must be +spoken—for my wife. The possession——” +</p> +<p> +“Possession!” interrupted Dion in a loud, excited tone. “The corpse cast +ashore by the waves might as well boast possession of the sea!” +</p> +<p> +The dim torchlight was sufficient to reveal Philostratus’s pallor to the +bystanders. For a moment the orator seemed to lose his self-control, but +he quickly recovered himself, and shouted: “Fellow-citizens, dear friends! +I was about to make you witnesses of the misery which a woman, whose +wickedness is even greater than her beauty, brought upon an inexperienced——” +</p> +<p> +But he went no further; for his hearers—many of whom knew the +brilliant, generous Dion, and Barine, the fair singer at the last Adonis +festival—gave the orator tokens of their indignation, which were all +the more pitiless because of the pleasure they felt in seeing an expert +vanquished by an untrained foe. The wordy war would not have ended so +quickly, however, had not restlessness and alarm taken possession of the +crowd. The shout, “Back! disperse!” ran through the multitude, and +directly after the trampling of hoofs and the commands of the leader of a +troop of Libyan cavalry were heard. The matter at stake was not +sufficiently important to induce the populace to offer an armed force +resistance which might have entailed serious danger. Besides, the +blustering war of tongues had reached a merry close, and loud laughter +blended with the shouts of fear and warning; for the surging throng had +swept with unexpected speed towards the fountain and plunged Philostratus +into the basin. Whether this was due to the wrath of some enemy, or to +mere accident, could not be learned; the vain efforts of the luckless man +to crawl out of the water up the smooth marble were so comical, and his +gestures, after helping hands had dragged him dripping upon the pavement +of the square, were so irresistibly funny, that more laughing than angry +voices were heard, especially when some one cried, “His hands were soiled +by blackening Didymus, so the washing will do him good.” “Some wise +physicians flung him into the water,” retorted an other; “he needed the +cold application after the blows Dion dealt him.” +</p> +<p> +The Regent, who had sent the troop of horsemen to drive the crowd away +from Didymus’s house, might well be pleased that the violent measure +encountered so little resistance. +</p> +<p> +The throng quickly scattered, and was speedily attracted by something new +at the Theatre of Dionysus—the zither-player Anaxenor had just +announced from its steps that Cleopatra and Antony had won the most +brilliant victory, and had sung to the accompaniment of his lute a hymn +which had deeply stirred all hearts. He had composed it long before, and +seized the first opportunity—the report had reached his ears while +breakfasting in Kanopus—to try its effect. +</p> +<p> +As soon as the square began to empty, Barine left her post of observation. +It was long since her heart had throbbed so violently. Not one of the many +suitors for her favour had been so dear to her as Dion; but she now felt +that she loved him. What he had just done for her and her grandfather was +worthy of the deepest gratitude; it proved that he did not come to her +house, like most of her guests, merely to while away the evening hours. +</p> +<p> +It had been no small matter for the young aristocrat, in the presence of +the whole multitude, to enter into a debate with the infamous +Philostratus, and how well he had succeeded in silencing the dreaded +orator! Besides, Dion had even taken her part against his own powerful +uncle, and perhaps by his deed drawn upon himself the hostility of his +enemy’s brother, Alexas, Antony’s powerful favourite. Barine might assure +herself that he, who was the peer of any Macedonian noble in the city, +would have done this for no one else. +</p> +<p> +She felt as if the act had ransomed her. +</p> +<p> +When, after an unhappy marriage and many desolate days, she had regained +her former bright cheerfulness and saw her house become the centre of the +intellectual life of the city, she had striven until now to extend the +same welcome to all her guests. She had perceived that she ought not to +give any one the power over her which is possessed by the man who knows +that he is beloved, and even to Dion she had granted little more than to +the others. But now she saw plainly that she would resign the pleasure of +being a universally admired woman, whose modest home attracted the most +distinguished men in the city, for the far greater happiness which would +be hers as Dion’s beloved wife. With him, cherished by his love, +she believed that she could find far greater joy in solitude than in the +gay course of her present life. +</p> +<p> +She knew now what she must do if Dion sought her, and the architect, for +the first time, found her a silent companion. He had willingly accompanied +her back to her grandfather’s house, where he had again met her sister +Helena, while she had quitted it disappointed, because her brave defender +had not returned there. +</p> +<p> +After the interruption of the debate Dion had been in a very cheerful +mood. The pleasant sensation of having championed a good cause, and the +delightful consciousness of success were not new to him, but he had rarely +felt so uplifted as now. He most ardently longed for his next meeting with +Barine, and imagined how he would describe what had happened and claim her +gratitude for his friendly service. The scene had risen clearly before his +mind, but scarcely had the radiant vision of the future faded when the +unusually bright expression of his manly face was clouded by a grave and +troubled one. +</p> +<p> +The darkness of the night, illumined only by the flare of the pitch-pans, +had surrounded him, yet it had seemed as if he were standing with Barine +in the full light of noon in the blossoming garden of his own palace, and, +after asking a reward for his sturdy championship, she had clung to him +with deep emotion, and he had passionately kissed her tearful face. +</p> +<p> +The face had quickly vanished, yet it had been as distinct as the most +vivid picture in a dream. +</p> +<p> +Was Barine more to him than he supposed? Had he not been drawn to her, +during the past few months, by the mere charm of her pliant intellect and +her bright beauty? Had a new, strong passion awakened within him? Was he +in danger of seeing the will which urged him to preserve his freedom +conquered? Had he cause to fear that some day, constrained by a +mysterious, invincible power, in defiance of the opposition of calm +reason, he might perhaps bind himself for life to this Barine, the woman +who had once been the wife of a Philostratus, and who bestowed her smiles +on all who found admittance to her house seeking a feast for the eye, a +banquet for the ear, a pleasant entertainment? +</p> +<p> +Though her honor was as stainless as the breast of a swan—and he had +no reason to doubt it—she would still be classed with Aspasia and +other women whose guests sought more than songs and agreeable +conversations. The gifts with which the gods had so lavishly endowed her +had already been shared with too many to permit him, the last scion of a +noble Macedonian house, to think of leading her, as mistress, to the +palace whose erection he had so carefully and successfully planned with +Gorgias. +</p> +<p> +Surely it lacked nothing save the gracious rule of a mistress. +</p> +<p> +But if she should consent to become his without the blessing of Hymen? No. +</p> +<p> +He could not thus dishonor the granddaughter of Didymus, the man who had +been his father’s revered teacher, a woman whom he had always rejoiced +that, spite of the gay freedom with which she received so many admirers, +he could still esteem. He would not do so, though his friends would have +greeted such scruples with a smile of superiority. Who revered the +sacredness of marriage in a city whose queen was openly living for the +second time with the husband of another? Dion himself had formed many a +brief connection, but for that very reason he could not place a woman like +Barine on the same footing with those whose love he had perhaps owed +solely to his wealth. He had never lacked courage and resolution, but he +felt that this time he would have to resist a power with which he had +never coped. +</p> +<p> +That accursed face! Again and again it rose before his mental vision, +smiling and beckoning so sweetly that the day must come when the yearning +to realize the dream would conquer all opposition. If he remained near her +he would inevitably do what he might afterwards regret, and therefore he +would fain have offered a sacrifice to Peitho to induce her to enhance +Archibius’s powers of persuasion and induce Barine to leave Alexandria. It +would be hard for him to part from her, yet much would be gained if she +went into the country. Between the present and the distant period of a +second meeting lay respite from peril, and perhaps the possibility of +victory. Dion did not recognize himself. He seemed as unstable as a +swaying reed, because he had conquered his wish to re-enter old Didymus’s +house and encourage him, and passed on to his own home. But he would +probably have found Barine still with her grandfather, and he would not +meet her, though every fibre of his being longed for her face, her voice, +and a word of gratitude from her beloved lips. Instead of joy, he was +filled with the sense of dissatisfaction which overpowers a man standing +at a crossing in the roads, who sees before him three goals, yet can be +fully content with neither. +</p> +<p> +The Street of the King, along which he suffered himself to be carried by +the excited throng, ran between the sea and the Theatre of Dionysus. The +thought darted through his mind that his friend the architect desired to +erect the luckless statues of the royal lovers in front of this stately +building. He would divert his thoughts by examining the site which Gorgias +had chosen. +</p> +<p> +The zither-player finished his hymn just as Dion approached the theatre, +and the crowd began to disperse. Every one was full of the joyful tidings +of victory, and one shouted to another what Anaxenor, the favourite of the +great Antony, who must surely know, had just recited in thrilling verse. +Many a joyous Io and loud Evoë to Cleopatra, the new Isis, and Antony, the +new Dionysus, resounded through the air, while bearded and smooth, +delicate Greek and thick Egyptian lips joined in the shout, “To the +Sebasteum!” This was the royal palace, which faced the government building +containing the Regent’s residence. The populace desired to have the +delightful news confirmed, and to express, by a public demonstration, the +grateful joy which filled every heart. +</p> +<p> +Dion, too, was eager to obtain certainty, and, though usually averse to +mingling with the populace during such noisy outbursts of feeling, he was +preparing to follow the crowd thronging towards the Sebasteum, when the +shouts of runners clearing a passage for a closed litter fell upon his +ear. +</p> +<p> +It was occupied by Iras, the Queen’s trusted attendant. If any one could +give accurate information, it was she; yet it would hardly be possible to +gain an opportunity of conversing with her in this throng. But Iras must +have had a different opinion; she had seen Dion, and now called him to her +side. There were hoarse tones in her voice, usually so clear and musical, +which betrayed the emotion raging in her breast as she assailed the young +Macedonian noble with a flood of questions. Without giving him the usual +greeting, she hastily desired to know what was exciting the people, who +had brought the tidings of victory, and whither the multitude was +flocking? +</p> +<p> +Dion had found it difficult not to be forced from the litter while +answering. Iris perceived this, and as they were just passing the +Mæander, the labyrinth, which was closed after sunset, she ordered her +bearers to carry the litter to the entrance, made herself known to the +watchman, ordered the outer court to be opened, the litter to be placed +there, and the bearers and runners to wait outside for her summons, which +would soon be given. +</p> +<p> +This unusual haste and excitement filled Dion with just solicitude. She +refused his invitation to alight and walk up and down, declaring that life +offered so many labyrinths that one need not seek them. He, too, seemed to +be following paths which were scarcely straight ones. “Why,” she +concluded, thrusting her head far out of the opening in the litter, “are +you rendering it so difficult for the Regent and your own uncle to execute +their plans, making common cause with the populace, like a paid agitator?” +</p> +<p> +“Like Philostratus, you mean, on whom I bestowed a few blows in addition +to the golden guerdon received from your hand?” +</p> +<p> +“Ay, like him, for aught I care. Probably it was you, too, who had him +flung into the water, after you had vented your wrath on him? You managed +your cause well. What we do for love’s sake is usually successful. No +matter, if only his brother Alexas does not rouse Antony against you. For +my part, I merely desire to know why and for whom all this was done.” +</p> +<p> +“For whom save the good old man who was my father’s preceptor, and his +just claim?” replied Dion frankly. “Moreover—for no site more +unsuitable could be found than his garden—in behalf of good taste.” +</p> +<p> +Iras laughed a shrill, short laugh, and her narrow, regularly formed face, +which might have been called beautiful, had not the bridge of the straight +delicate nose been too long and the chin too small, darkened slightly, as +she exclaimed, “That is frank at least.” +</p> +<p> +“You ought to be accustomed to that from me,” replied Dion calmly. “In +this case, however, the expert, Gorgias, fully shares my opinion.” +</p> +<p> +“I heard that too. You are both the most constant visitors of—what +is the woman’s name?—the bewitching Barine.” +</p> +<p> +“Barine?” repeated Dion, as if the mention of the name surprised him. “You +take care, my friend, that our conversation does honour to its scene, the +labyrinth. I speak of works of the sculptor’s art, and you pretend that I +am referring to what is most certainly a very successful living work from +the creative hands of the gods. I was very far from thinking of the +granddaughter of the old scholar for whom I interceded.” +</p> +<p> +“Ay,” she scornfully retorted, “young gentlemen in your position, and with +your habits of life, always think of their fathers estimable teachers +rather than of the women who, ever since Pandora opened her box, have +brought all sorts of misfortunes into the world. But,” she added, pushing +back her dark locks from her high forehead, “I don’t understand myself, +how, with the mountain of care that now burdens my soul, I can waste even +a single word upon such trifles. I care as little for the aged scholar as +I do for his legion of commentaries and books, though they are not wholly +unfamiliar to me. For any concern of mine he might have as many +grandchildren as there are evil tongues in Alexandria, were it not that +just at this time it is of the utmost importance to remove everything +which might cast a shadow on the Queen’s pathway. I have just come from +the palace of the royal children at Lochias, and what I learned there. But +that—I will not, I cannot believe it. It fairly stifles me!” +</p> +<p> +“Have you received bad news from the fleet?” questioned Dion, with sincere +anxiety; but she only bent her head in assent, laying her fan of +ostrich-plumes on her lips to enjoin silence, at the same time shivering +so violently that he perceived it, even in the dusk. It was evident that +speech was difficult, as she added in a muffled tone: “It must be kept +secret—Rhodian sailors—thank the gods, it is still very +doubtful—it cannot, must not be true—and yet—the prattle of +that zither-player, which has filled the multitude with joyous +anticipation, is abominable—the great ones of the earth are often +most sorely injured by those who owe them the most gratitude. I know you +can be silent, Dion. You could as a boy, if anything was to be hidden from +our parents. Would you still be ready to plunge into the water for me, as +in those days? Scarcely. Yet you may be trusted, and, even in this +labyrinth, I will do so. My heart is heavy. But not one word to any +person. I need no confidant and could maintain silence even towards you, +but I am anxious that you should understand me, you who have just taken +such a stand. Before I entered my litter at Lochias, the boy returned, and +I talked with him.” +</p> +<p> +“Young Cæsarion loves Barine,” replied Dion with grave earnestness. +</p> +<p> +“Then this horrible folly is known?” asked Iras excitedly. “A passion far +deeper than I should ever have expected this dreamer to feel has taken +possession of him. And if the Queen should now return—perhaps less +successful than we desire—if she looks to those from whom she still +expects pleasure, satisfaction, lofty deeds, and learns what has befallen +the boy—for what does not that sun-bright intellect learn and +perceive? He is dear to her, dearer than any of you imagine. How it will +increase her anxiety, perhaps her suffering! With what good reason she +will be angered against those whom duty and love should have commanded to +guard the boy!” +</p> +<p> +“And therefore,” added Dion, “the stone of offence must be removed. Your +first step to secure this object was the attack on Didymus.” +</p> +<p> +He had judged correctly and perceived that, in her assault upon the old +scholar, she had at first intended to play into the hands of the rulers, +work against the old philosopher and his relatives, among whose number was +Barine; for the Egyptian law permitted the relatives of those who were +convicted of any crime against the sovereign or the government to be +banished with the criminal. This attack upon an innocent person was +disgraceful, yet every word Iras uttered made Dion feel, every feature of +her face betrayed, that it was not merely base jealousy, but a nobler +emotion, that caused her to assail the guiltless sage—love for her +mistress, the desire which dominated her whole being to guard Cleopatra +from grief and trouble in these trying times. He knew Iras’s iron will and +the want of consideration with which she had learned to pursue her purpose +at the court. His first object was to protect Barine from the danger which +threatened her; but he also wished to relieve the anxiety of Iras, the +daughter of Krates, his father’s neighbour, with whom he had played in +boyhood and for whom he had never ceased to feel a tender interest. +</p> +<p> +His remark surprised her. She saw that her plot was detected by the man +whose esteem she most valued, and a loving woman is glad to recognize the +superiority of her lover. Besides, from her earliest childhood—and +she was only two years younger than Dion—she had belonged to circles +where no quality was more highly prized than mental pliancy and keenness. +Her dark eyes, which at first had glittered distrustfully and +questioningly and afterwards glowed with a gloomy light, now gained a new +expression. Her gaze sought her friend’s with a tender, pleading look as, +admitting his charge, she began: “Yes! Dion, the philosopher’s +granddaughter must not stay here. Or do you see any other way to protect +the unhappy boy from incalculable misfortune? You know me well enough to +be aware that, like you, I am reluctant to infringe another’s rights, that +except in case of necessity I am not cruel. I value your esteem. No one is +more truthful, and yesterday you averred that Eros had no part in your +visits to the much-admired young woman, that you joined her guests merely +because the society you found at her house afforded a pleasant stimulus to +the mind. I have ceased to believe in many things, but not in you and your +words, and if hearing that you had taken sides with the grandfather, I +fancied that you were secretly seeking the thanks and gratitude of the +granddaughter, why—surely the atrocious maxim that Zeus does not +hear the vows of lovers comes from you men—why, suspicion again +reared its head. Now you seem to share my opinion——” +</p> +<p> +“Like you,” Dion interrupted, “I believe that Barine ought to be withdrawn +from the boy’s pursuit, which cannot be more unpleasant to you than to +her. As Cæsarion neither can nor ought to leave Alexandria while affairs +are so threatening, nothing is left except to remove the young woman—but, +of course, in all kindness.” +</p> +<p> +“In a golden chariot, garlanded with roses, if you so desire,” cried Iras +eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“That might attract attention,” answered Dion, smiling and raising his +hand as if to enjoin moderation. “Your mode of action does not please me, +even now that I know its purpose, but I will gladly aid you to attain your +object. Your crooked paths also lead to the goal, and perhaps one is less +likely to stumble in them; but straight ways suit me better, and I think I +have already found the right one. A friend will invite Barine to an estate +far away from here, perhaps in the lake regions.” +</p> +<p> +“You?” cried Iras, her narrow eyebrows suddenly contracting. +</p> +<p> +“Do you imagine that she would go with me?” he asked, in a faintly +reproachful tone. “No. Fortunately, we have older friends, and at their +head is one who happens to be your uncle and at the same time is wax in +the hands of the Queen.” +</p> +<p> +“Archibius?” exclaimed Iras. “Ah! if he could persuade her to do so!” +</p> +<p> +“He will try. He, too, is anxious about the lad. While we are talking +here, he is inviting Barine to his estate. The country air will benefit +her.” +</p> +<p> +“May she bloom there like a young shepherdess!” +</p> +<p> +“You are right to wish her the best fortune; for if the Queen does not +return victorious, the irritability of our Alexandrians will be doubled. +When you laid hands on Didymus’s garden, you were so busily engaged in +building the triumphal arch that you forgot——” +</p> +<p> +“Who would have doubted the successful issue of this war?” cried Iras. +“And they will, they will conquer. The Rhodian said that the fleet was +scattered. The disaster happened on the Acharnanian coast. How positive it +sounded! But he had it only at second and third hand. And what are mere +rumours? The source of the false tidings is discovered later. Besides, +even if the naval battle were really lost, the powerful army, which is far +superior to Octavianus’s forces, still remains. Which of the enemy’s +generals could cope with Antony on the land? How he will fight when all is +at stake—fame, honour, sovereignty, hate, and love! Away with this fear, +based on mere rumour! After Dyrrachium Cæsar’s cause was deemed lost, and +how soon Pharsalus made him master of the world! Is it worthy of a +sensible person to suffer courage to be depressed by a sailor’s gossip? +And yet—yet! It began while I was ill. And then the swallows on the +Antonias, the admiral’s ship. We have already spoken of it. Mardion and +your uncle Zeno saw with their own eyes the strange swallows drive away +those which had built their nest on the helm of the Antonias, and kill the +young ones with their cruel beaks. An evil omen! I cannot forget it. And my +dream, while I lay ill with fever far away from my mistress! But I have +already lingered here too long. No, Dion, no. I am grateful for the rest +here—I can now feel at ease about Cæsarion. Place the monument where +you choose. The people shall see and hear that we respect their opposition, +that we are just and friendly. Help me to turn this matter to the advantage +of the Queen, and if Archibius succeeds in getting Barine away and keeping +her in the country, then—if I had aught that seemed to you desirable +it should be yours. But what does the petted Dion care for his fading +playfellow?” +</p> +<p> +“Fading?” he repeated in a tone of indignant reproach. “Say rather the +fully developed flower has learned from her royal friend the secret of +eternal youth.” +</p> +<p> +With a swift impulse of gratitude Iras bent her face towards him in the +dusk, extending the slender white hand—next to Cleopatra’s famed as +the most beautiful at court—for him to kiss, but when he merely +pressed his lips lightly on it with no shadow of tenderness, she hastily +withdrew it, exclaiming as if overwhelmed by sudden repentance: “This +idle, hollow dalliance at such a time, with such a burden of anxiety +oppressing the heart! It is unworthy, shameful! If Barine goes with +Archibius, her time will scarcely hang heavy on his estates. I think I +know some one who will speedily follow to bear her company.—Here, +Sasis! the bearers! To the Tower of Nilus, before the Gate of the Sun!” +</p> +<p> +Dion gazed after her litter a short time, then passed his hand through his +waving brown hair, walked swiftly to the shore and, without pausing long +to choose, sprang into one of the boats which were rented for pleasure +voyages. Ordering the sailors who were preparing to accompany him to +remain on shore, he stretched the sail with a practised hand, and ran out +towards the mouth of the harbour. He needed some strong excitement, and +wished to go himself in search of news. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch04"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER IV. +</h3> + +<p> +The house facing the garden of the Paneum, where Barine lived, was the +property of her mother, who had inherited it from her parents. The artist +Leonax, the young beauty’s father, son of the old philosopher Didymus, had +died long before. +</p> +<p> +After Barine’s unhappy marriage with Philostratus was dissolved, she had +returned to her mother, who managed the affairs of the household. She too, +belonged to a family of scholars and had a brother who had won high repute +as a philosopher, and had directed the studies of the young Octavianus. +This had occurred long before the commencement of the hostility which +separated the heirs of Cæsar and Mark Antony. But even after the latter +had deserted Octavia, the sister of Octavianus, to return to Cleopatra, +the object of his love, and there was an open breach between the two +rivals for the sovereignty of the world, Antony had been friendly to Arius +and borne him no grudge for his close relations to his rival. The generous +Roman had even given his enemy’s former tutor a fine house, to show him +that he was glad to have him in Alexandria and near his person. +</p> +<p> +The widow Berenike, Barine’s mother, was warmly attached to her only +brother, who often joined her daughter’s guests. She was a quiet, modest +woman whose happiest days had been passed in superintending the education +of her children, Barine, the fiery Hippias, and the quiet Helena, who for +several years had lived with her grandparents and, with faithful devotion, +assumed the duty of caring for them. She had been more easily guided than +the two older children; for the boy’s aspiring spirit had often drawn him +beyond his mother’s control, and the beautiful, vivacious girl had early +possessed charms so unusual that she could not remain unnoticed. +</p> +<p> +Hippias had studied oratory, first in Alexandria and later in Athens and +Rhodes. Three years before, his uncle Arius had sent him with excellent +letters of introduction to Rome to become acquainted with the life of the +capital and try whether, in spite of his origin, his brilliant gifts of +eloquence would forward his fortunes there. +</p> +<p> +Two miserable years with an infamous, unloved husband had changed the wild +spirits of Barine’s childhood into the sunny cheerfulness now one of her +special charms. Her mother was conscious of having desired only her best +good in uniting the girl of sixteen to Philostratus, whom the grandfather +Didymus then considered a very promising young man, and whose advancement, +in addition to his own talents, his brother Alexas, Antony’s favourite, +promised to aid. She had believed that this step would afford the gay, +beautiful girl the best protection from the perils of the corrupt capital; +but the worthless husband had caused both mother and daughter much care +and sorrow, while his brother Alexas, who constantly pursued his young +sister-in-law with insulting attentions, was the source of almost equal +trouble. Berenike often gazed in silent astonishment at the child, who, +spite of such sore grief and humiliation, had preserved the innocent +light-heartedness which made her seem as if life had offered her only +thornless roses. +</p> +<p> +Her father, Leonax, had been one of the most distinguished artists of the +day, and Barine had inherited from him the elastic artist temperament +which speedily rebounds from the heaviest pressure. To him also she owed +the rare gift of song, which had been carefully cultivated and had already +secured her the first position in the woman’s chorus at the festival of +the great goddesses of the city. Every one was full of her praises, and +after she had sung the Yalemos in the palace over the waxen image of the +favourite of the gods, slain by the boar, her name was eagerly applauded. +To have heard her was esteemed a privilege, for she sang only in her own +house or at religious ceremonials “for the honour of the gods.” +</p> +<p> +The Queen, too, had heard her, and, after the Adonis festival, her uncle +Arius had presented her to Antony, who expressed his admiration with all +the fervour of his frank nature, and afterwards came to her house a second +time, accompanied by his son Antyllus. Doubtless he would have called on +her frequently and tested upon her heart his peculiar power over women, +had he not been compelled to leave the city on the day after his last +visit. +</p> +<p> +Berenike had reproved her brother for bringing the Queen’s lover to +Barine, for her anxiety was increased by the repeated visits of Antony’s +son, and still more aroused by that of Cæsarion, who was presented by +Antyllus. +</p> +<p> +These youths were not numbered among the guests whose presence she +welcomed and whose conversation afforded her pleasure. It was flattering +that they should honour her simple home by their visits, but she knew that +Cæsarion came without his tutor’s knowledge, and perceived, by the +expression of his eyes, what drew him to her daughter. Besides, Berenike, +in rearing the two children, who had been the source of so much anxiety +had lost the joyous confidence which had characterized her own youth. +Whenever life presented any new phase, she saw the dark side first. If a +burning candle stood before her, the shadow of the candlestick caught her +eye before the light. Her whole mental existence became a chain of fears, +but the kind-hearted woman loved her children too tenderly to permit them +to see it. Only it was a relief to her heart when some of her evil +forebodings were realized, to say that she had foreseen it all. +</p> +<p> +No trace of this was legible in her face, a countenance still pretty and +pleasing in its unruffled placidity. She talked very little, but what she +did say was sensible, and proved how attentively she understood how to +listen. So she was welcome among Barine’s guests. Even the most +distinguished received something from her, because he felt that the quiet +woman understood him. +</p> +<p> +Before Barine had returned that evening, something had occurred which made +her mother doubly regret the accident to her brother Arius the day before. +On his way home from his sister’s he had been run over by a chariot +darting recklessly along the Street of the King, and was carried, severely +injured, to his home, where he now lay helpless and fevered. Nor did it +lessen his sufferings to hear his two sons threaten to take vengeance on +the reckless fellow who had wrought their father this mischief, for he had +reason to believe Antyllus the perpetrator of the deed, and a collision +between the youths and the son of Antony could only result in fresh +disaster to him and his, especially as the young Roman seemed to have +inherited little of his father’s magnanimous generosity. Yet Arius could +not be vexed with his sons for stigmatizing, in the harshest terms, the +conduct of the man who had gone on without heeding the accident. He had +cautioned his sister against the utterly unbridled youth whose father he +had himself brought to her house. With what good reason he had raised his +voice in warning was now evident. At sunset that very day several guests +had arrived as usual, followed by Antyllus, a youth of nineteen. When the +door-keeper refused to admit him, he had rudely demanded to see Barine, +thrust aside the prudent old porter, who endeavoured to detain him, and, +in spite of his protestations, forced his way into his dead master’s +work-room, where the ladies usually received their visitors. Not until he +found it empty would he retire, and then he first fastened a bouquet of +flowers he had brought to a statue of Eros in burnt clay, which stood +there. Both the porter and Barine’s waiting-maid declared that he was +drunk; they saw it when he staggered away with the companions who had +waited for him in the garden outside. +</p> +<p> +This unseemly and insulting conduct filled Berenike with the deepest +indignation. It must not remain unpunished, and, while waiting for her +daughter, she imagined what evil consequences might ensue if Antyllus were +forbidden the house and accused to his tutor, and how unbearable, on the +other hand, he might become if they omitted to do so. +</p> +<p> +She was full of sad presentiments, and as, with such good reason, she +feared the worst, she cherished a faint hope that her daughter might +perhaps bring home some pleasant tidings; for she had had the experience +that events which had filled her with the utmost anxiety sometimes +resulted in good fortune. +</p> +<p> +At last Barine appeared, and it was indeed long since she had clasped her +mother in her arms with such joyous cheerfulness. +</p> +<p> +The widow’s troubled heart grew lighter. Her daughter must have met with +something unusually gratifying, she looked so happy, although she had +surely heard what had happened here; for her cloak was laid aside and her +hair newly arranged, so she must have been to her chamber, where she was +dressed by her loquacious Cyprian slave, who certainly could not keep to +herself anything that was worth mentioning. The nimble maid had shown her +skill that day. +</p> +<p> +“Any stranger would take her for nineteen,” thought her mother. “How +becoming the white robe and blue-bordered peplum are to her; how softly +the azure bombyx ribbon is wound around the thick waves of her hair! Who +would believe that no curling-irons had touched the little golden locks +that rest so gracefully on her brow, that no paint-brush had any share in +producing the rose and white hues on her cheek, or the alabaster glimmer +of her arms? Such beauty easily becomes a Danae dower; but it is a +magnificent gift of the gods! Yet why did she put on the bracelet which +Antony gave her after his last visit? Scarcely on my account. She can +hardly expect Dion at so late an hour. Even while I am rejoicing in the +sight of her beauty, some new misfortune may be impending.” +</p> +<p> +So ran the current of her thoughts while her daughter was gaily describing +what she had witnessed at her grandfather’s. Meanwhile she had nestled +comfortably among the cushions of a lounge; and when she mentioned +Antyllus’s unseemly conduct, she spoke of it, with a carelessness that +startled Berenike, as a vexatious piece of rudeness which must not occur +again. +</p> +<p> +“But who is to prevent it?” asked the mother anxiously. +</p> +<p> +“Who, save ourselves?” replied Barine. +</p> +<p> +“He will not be admitted.” +</p> +<p> +“And if he forced his way in?” +</p> +<p> +Barine’s big blue eyes flashed angrily, and there was no lack of decision +in her voice as she exclaimed, “Let him try it!” +</p> +<p> +“But what power have we to restrain the son of Antony?” asked Berenike. “I +do not know.” +</p> +<p> +“I do,” replied her daughter. “I will be brief, for a visitor is coming.” +</p> +<p> +“So late?” asked the mother anxiously. +</p> +<p> +“Archibius wishes to discuss an important matter with us.” +</p> +<p> +The lines on the brow of the older woman smoothed, but it contracted again +as she exclaimed inquiringly: “Important business at so unusual an hour! +Ah, I have expected nothing good since early morning! On my way to my +brother’s a raven flew up before me and fluttered towards the left into +the garden.” +</p> +<p> +“But I,” replied Barine, after receiving, in reply to her inquiry, a +favourable report concerning her uncle’s health—“I met seven—there +were neither more nor less; for seven is the best of numbers—seven +snow-white doves, which all flew swiftly towards the right. The fairest of +all came first, bearing in its beak a little basket which contained the +power that will keep Antony’s son away from us. Don’t look at me in such +amazement, you dear receptacle of every terror.” +</p> +<p> +“But, child, you said that Archibius was coming so late to discuss an +important matter,” rejoined the mother. +</p> +<p> +“He must be here soon.” +</p> +<p> +“Then cease this talking in riddles; I do not guess them quickly.” +</p> +<p> +“You will solve this one,” returned Barine; “but we really have no time to +lose. So—my beautiful dove was a good, wise thought, and what it carried +in its basket you shall hear presently. You see, mother, many will blame +us, though here and there some one may pity; but this state of things must +not continue. I feel it more and more plainly with each passing day; and +several years must yet elapse ere this scruple becomes wholly needless. I +am too young to welcome as a guest every one whom this or that man +presents to me. True, our reception-hall was my father’s work-room and +you, my own estimable, blameless mother, are the hostess here; but though +superior to me in every respect, you are so modest that you shield +yourself behind your daughter until the guests think of you only when you +are absent. So those who seek us both merely say, ‘I am going to visit +Barine’—and there are too many who say this—I can no longer +choose, and this thought——” +</p> +<p> +“Child! child!” interrupted her mother joyfully, “what god met you as you +went out this morning?” +</p> +<p> +“Surely you know,” she answered gaily; “it was seven doves, and, when I +took the little basket from the bill of the first and prettiest one, it +told me a story. Do you want to hear it?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, yes; but be quick, or we shall be interrupted.” +</p> +<p> +Then Barine leaned farther back among the cushions, lowered her long +lashes, and began: “Once upon a time there was a woman who had a garden in +the most aristocratic quarter of the city—here near the Paneum, if +you please. In the autumn, when the fruit was ripening, she left the gate +open, though all her neighbours did the opposite. To keep away unbidden +lovers of her nice figs and dates, she fastened on the gate a tablet +bearing the inscription: ‘All may enter and enjoy the sight of the garden; +but the dogs will bite any one who breaks a flower, treads upon the grass, +or steals the fruit.’ +</p> +<p> +“The woman had nothing but a lap-dog, and that did not always obey her. +But the tablet fulfilled its purpose; for at first none came except her +neighbours in the aristocratic quarter. They read the threat, and probably +without it would have respected the property of the woman who so kindly +opened the door to them. Thus matters went on for a time, until first a +beggar came, and then a Phœnician sailor, and a thievish Egyptian from +the Rhakotis—neither of whom could read. So the tablet told them +nothing; and as, moreover, they distinguished less carefully between mine +and thine, one trampled the turf and another snatched from the boughs a +flower or fruit. More and more of the rabble came, and you can imagine +what followed. No one punished them for the crime, for they did not fear +the barking of the lap-dog, and this gave even those who could read, +courage not to heed the warning. So the woman’s pretty garden soon lost +its peculiar charm; and the fruit, too, was stolen. When the rain at last +washed the inscription from the tablet, and saucy boys scrawled on it, +there was no harm done; for the garden no longer offered any attractions, +and no one who looked into it cared to enter. Then the owner closed her +gate like the neighbours, and the next year she again enjoyed the green +grass and the bright hues of the flowers. She ate her fruit herself, and +the lap-dog no longer disturbed her by its barking.” +</p> +<p> +“That is,” said her mother, “if everybody was as courteous and as well +bred as Gorgias, Lysias, and the others, we would gladly continue to +receive them. But since there are rude fellows like Antyllus——” +</p> +<p> +“You have understood the story correctly,” Barine interrupted. “We are +certainly at liberty to invite to our house those who have learned to read +our inscription. To-morrow visitors will be informed that we can no longer +receive them as before.” +</p> +<p> +“Antyllus’s conduct affords an excellent pretext,” her mother added. +“Every fair-minded person must understand——” +</p> +<p> +“Certainly,” said Barine, “and if you, shrewdest of women, will do your +part——” +</p> +<p> +“Then for the first time we can act as we please in our own home. Believe +me, child—if you only do not——” +</p> +<p> +“No ifs!—not this time!” cried the young beauty, raising her hand +beseechingly. “It gives me such delight to think of the new life, and if +matters come to pass as I hope and wish—then—do not you also +believe, mother, that the gods owe me reparation?” +</p> +<p> +“For what?” asked the deep voice of Archibius, who had entered +unannounced, and was now first noticed by the widow and her daughter. +</p> +<p> +Barine hastily rose and held out both hands to her old friend, exclaiming, +“Since they bring you to us, they are already beginning the payment.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch05"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER V. +</h3> + +<p> +An artist, especially a great artist, finds it easy to give his house an +attractive appearance. He desires comfort in it, and only the beautiful <i>is</i> +comfortable to him. Whatever would disturb harmony offends his eye, and to +secure the noblest ornament of his house he need not invite any stranger +to cross its threshold. The Muse, the best of assistants, joins him +unbidden. +</p> +<p> +Leonax, Barine’s father, had been thus aided to transform the interior of +his house into a very charming residence. He had painted on the walls of +his own work-room incidents in the life of Alexander the Great, the +founder of his native city, and on the frieze a procession of dancing +Cupids. +</p> +<p> +Here Barine now received her guests, and the renown of these paintings was +not one of the smallest inducements which had led Antony to visit the +young beauty and to take his son, in whom he wished to awaken at least a +fleeting pleasure in art. He also knew how to prize her beauty and her +singing, but the ardent passion which had taken possession of him in his +mature years was for Cleopatra alone. He whose easily won heart and +susceptible fancy had urged him from one commonplace love to another had +been bound by the Queen with chains of indestructible and supernatural +power. By her side a Barine seemed to him merely a work of art endowed +with life and a voice that charmed the ear. Yet he owed her some pleasant +hours, and he could not help bestowing gifts upon any one to whom he was +indebted for anything pleasant. He liked to be considered the most +generous spendthrift on earth, and the polished bracelet set with a gem, +on which was carved Apollo playing on his lyre, surrounded by the +listening Muses, looked very simple, but was really an ornament of +priceless value, for the artist who made it was deemed the best +stone-cutter in Alexandria in the time of Philadelphus, and each one of +the tiny figures sculptured on the bit of onyx scarcely three fingers wide +was a carefully executed masterpiece of the most exquisite beauty. Antony +had chosen it because he deemed it a fitting gift for the woman whose song +had pleased him. He had not thought of asking its value; indeed, only a +connoisseur would have perceived it; and as the circlet was not showy and +well became her beautiful arm, Barine liked to wear it. +</p> +<p> +Had not the war taken him away, Antony’s second visit would certainly not +have been his last. Besides the singing which enthralled him, the +conversation had been gay and brilliant, and in addition to Leonax’s +paintings, he had seen other beautiful works of art which the former had +obtained by exchanging with many distinguished companions. +</p> +<p> +Nor was there any lack of plastic creations in the spacious apartment, to +which the flashing of the water poured by a powerful man from the goatskin +bottle on his shoulder into a shell lent a special charm. +</p> +<p> +The master who had carved this stooping Nubian had also created the +much-discussed statues of the royal lovers. The clay Eros, who with bent +knee was aiming at a victim visible to himself alone, was also his work. +Antony, when paying his second visit, had laughingly laid the garland he +wore before “the greatest of human conquerors,” while a short time ago his +son Antyllus had rudely thrust his bouquet of flowers into the opening of +the curved right arm which was drawing the string. In doing so the statue +had been injured. Now the flowers lay unheeded upon the little altar at +the end of the large room, lighted only by a single lamp; for the ladies +had left it with their guest. They were in Barine’s favourite apartment, a +small room, where there were several pictures by her dead father. +</p> +<p> +Antyllus’s bouquet, and the damage to the clay statue of Eros, had played +a prominent part in the conversation between the three, and rendered +Archibius’s task easier. +</p> +<p> +Berenike had greeted the guest with a complaint of the young Roman’s +recklessness and unseemly conduct, to which Barine added the declaration +that they had now sacrificed enough to Zeus Xenios, the god of +hospitality. She meant to devote her future life to the modest household +gods and to Apollo, to whom she owed the gift of song. +</p> +<p> +Archibius had listened silently in great surprise until she had finished +her explanation and declared that henceforth she intended to live alone +with her mother, instead of having her father’s workshop filled with +guests. +</p> +<p> +The young beauty’s vivid imagination transported her to this new and +quieter life. But, spite of the clear and glowing hues in which she +described her anticipations, her grey-haired listener could not have +believed in them fully. A subtle smile sometimes flitted over his grave, +somewhat melancholy face—that of a man who has ceased to wrestle in +the arena of life, and after severe conflict now preferred to stand among +the spectators and watch others win or lose the prize of victory. +Doubtless the wounds which he had received still ached, yet his sorrowful +experiences did not prevent his being an attentive observer. The +expression of his clear eyes showed that he mentally shared whatever +aroused his sympathy. Whoever understood how to listen thus, and, moreover—the +prominence of the brow above the nose showed it—was also a trained +thinker, could not fail to be a good counsellor, and as such he was +regarded by many, and first of all by the Queen. +</p> +<p> +The wise deliberation, which was one of his characteristic traits, showed +itself on this occasion; for though he had come to persuade Barine try a +country residence, he refrained from doing until she had exhausted the +story of her own affairs and inquired the important cause of his visit. +</p> +<p> +In the principal matter his request was granted ere he made it. So he +could begin with the query whether the mother and daughter did not think +that the transition to the new mode of life could be effected more easily +if they were absent from the city a short time. It would awaken comment +they should close their house against guests on the morrow, and as the +true reason could not be given, many would be offended. If, on the +contrary, they could resolve to quit the capital for a few weeks, many, it +is true, would lament their decision, but what was alloted to all alike +could be resented by no one. +</p> +<p> +Berenike eagerly assented, but Barine grew thoughtful. Then Archibius +begged her to speak frankly, and after she had asked where they could, he +proposed his country estate. +</p> +<p> +His keen grey eyes had perceived that something, bound her so firmly to +the city that in the case of a true woman like Barine it must be an affair +of the heart. He had evidently judged correctly, for, at his prediction +that there would be no lack of visits from her dearest friends, she raised +her head, her blue eyes sparkled brightly, and when Archibius paused she +to her mother, exclaiming gaily: +</p> +<p> +“We will go!” +</p> +<p> +Again the vivid imagination daughter conjured the future before her in +distinct outlines. She alone knew whom she meant when she spoke of the +visitor she expected at Irenia, Archibius’s estate. The name meant “The +place of peace,” and it pleased her. +</p> +<p> +Archibius listened smilingly; but when she began to assign him also a part +in driving the little Sardinian horses and pursuing the birds, he +interrupted her with the statement that whether he could speedily allow +himself a pleasure which he should so keenly enjoy—that of breathing +the country air with such charming guests—would depend upon the fate +of another. Thank the gods, he had been able to come here with a lighter +heart, because, just before his departure, he had heard of a splendid +victory gained by the Queen. The ladies would perhaps permit him to remain +a little longer, as he was expecting confirmation of the news. +</p> +<p> +It was evident that he awaited it in great suspense, and that his heart +was by no means free from anxiety. +</p> +<p> +Berenike shared it, and her pleasant face, which had hitherto reflected +her delight at her daughter’s sensible resolution, was now clouded with +care as Archibius began: “The object of my presence here? You are making +it very easy for me to attain it. If I deemed it honest, I could now +conceal the fact that I had sought you to induce you to leave the city. I +see no peril from the boyish insolence of the son of Antony. The point in +question, child, is merely to put yourself out of the reach of Cæsarion.” +</p> +<p> +“If you could place me in the moon, it would please me best, as far as he +is concerned,” replied Barine eagerly. “That is just what induced me to +change our mode of life, since my door cannot be closed against the boy +who, though still under a tutor, uses his rank as a key to open it. And +just think of being compelled to address that dreamer, with eyes pleading +for help, by the title of ‘king’!” +</p> +<p> +“Yet what mighty impulse might not be slumbering in the breast of a son of +Julius Cæsar and Cleopatra?” said Archibius. “And passion—I know, +my child, that it is no fault of yours—has now awakened within him. +Whatever the result may be, it must fill his mother’s heart with anxiety. +That is why it is needful to hasten your departure, and to keep your +destination a secret. He will attempt no violence; but—he is the +child of his parents—and some unexpected act may be anticipated from +him.” +</p> +<p> +“You startle me!” cried Barine. “You transform the cooing dove which +entered my house into a dangerous griffin.” +</p> +<p> +“As such you may regard him,” said the other, warningly. “You will be a +welcome guest, Barine, but I invited you, whom I have loved from your +earliest childhood, the daughter of my dearest friend, not merely to do +you a service at Irenia, but to save from grief or even annoyance the +person to whom—who is not aware of it—I owe everything.” +</p> +<p> +The words conveyed to both ladies the knowledge that, though they were +dear to Archibius, he would sacrifice them, and with them, perhaps, all +the rest of the world, for the peace and happiness of the Queen. +</p> +<p> +Barine had expected nothing else. She knew that Cleopatra had made the +philosopher’s son a wealthy man and the owner of extensive estates; but +she also felt that the source of his loyal devotion to the Queen, over +whom he watched like a tender father, was due to other causes. Cleopatra +prized him also. Had he been ambitious, he could have stood at the helm of +the ship of state, as Epitrop long ago, but—the whole city knew it—he +had more than once refused to accept a permanent office, because he +believed that he could serve his mistress better as an unassuming, +unnoticed counsellor. Berenike had told Barine that the relations between +Cleopatra and Archibius dated back to their childhood, but she had learned +no particulars. Various rumours were afloat which, in the course of time, +had been richly adorned and interwoven with anecdotes, and Barine +naturally lent the most ready credence to those which asserted that the +princess, in her earliest youth, had cherished a childish love for the +philosopher’s son. Now her friend’s conduct led her to believe it. +</p> +<p> +When Archibius paused, the young beauty assured him that she understood +him; and as the alabaster hanging lamp and a three-branched light cast a +brilliant glow upon the portrait which her father had painted of the +nineteen-year-old Queen, and afterwards copied for his own household, she +pointed to it, and, pursuing the current of her own thoughts, asked the +question: +</p> +<p> +“Was she not marvellously beautiful at that time?” +</p> +<p> +“As your father’s work represents her,” was the reply. “Leonax painted the +portrait of Octavia, on the opposite side, the same year, and perhaps the +artist deemed the Roman the fairer woman.” He pointed as he spoke to a +likeness of Octavianus’s sister, whom Barine’s father had painted as the +young wife of Marcellus, her first husband. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no!” said Berenike. “I still remember perfectly how Leonax returned +in those days. What woman might not have been jealous of his enthusiasm +for the Roman Hera? At that time I had not seen the portrait, and when I +asked whether he thought Octavia more beautiful than the Queen, for whom +Eros had inflamed his heart, as in the case of most of the beautiful women +he painted, he exclaimed—you know his impetuous manner—‘Octavia +stands foremost in the ranks of those who are called “beautiful” or “less +beautiful”; the other, Cleopatra, stands alone, and can be compared with +no one.’ ” +</p> +<p> +Archibius bent his head in assent, then said firmly, “But, as a child, +when I first saw her, she would have been the fairest even in the dance of +the young gods of love.” +</p> +<p> +“How old was she then?” asked Barine, eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“Eight years,” he answered. “How far in the past it is, yet I have not +forgotten a single hour!” +</p> +<p> +Barine now earnestly entreated him to tell them +the story of those days, but Archibius gazed thoughtfully at the floor for +some time ere he raised his head and answered: “Perhaps it will be well if +you learn more of the woman for whose sake I ask a sacrifice at your +hands. Arius is your brother and uncle. He stands near to Octavianus, for +he was his intellectual guide, and I know that he reveres the Roman’s +sister, Octavia, as a goddess. Antony is now struggling with Octavianus +for the sovereignty of the world. Octavia succumbed in the conflict +against the woman of whom you desire to hear. It is not my place to judge +her, but I may instruct and warn. Roman nations burn incense to Octavia, +and, when Cleopatra’s name is uttered, they veil their faces indignantly. +Here in Alexandria many imitate them. Whoever upholds shining purity may +hope to win a share of the radiance emanating from it. They call Octavia +the lawful wife, and Cleopatra the criminal who robbed her of her +husband’s heart.” +</p> +<p> +“Not I!” exclaimed Barine eagerly. “How often I have heard my uncle say +that Antony and Cleopatra were fired with the most ardent love for each +other! Never did the arrows of Eros pierce two hearts more deeply. Then it +became necessary to save the state from civil war and bloodshed. Antony +consented to form an alliance with his rival, and, as security for the +sincerity of the reconciliation, he gave his hand in marriage to Octavia, +whose first husband, Marcellus, had just died—his hand, I say, only +his hand, for his heart was captive to the Queen of Egypt. And if Antony +was faithless to the wife to whom statecraft had bound him, he kept his +pledge to the other, who had an earlier, better title. If Cleopatra did +not give up the man to whom she had sworn fidelity forever, she was right—a +thousand times right! In my eyes—no matter how often my mother +rebukes me—Cleopatra, in the eyes of the immortals, is and always +will be Antony’s real wife; the other, though on her marriage day no +custom, no word, no stroke of the stylus, no gesture was omitted, is the +intruder in a bond of love which rejoices the gods, however it may anger +mortals, and—forgive me, mother—virtuous matrons.” +</p> +<p> +Berenike had listened with blushing cheeks to her vivacious daughter; now +with timid earnestness she interrupted: “I know that those are the views +of the new times; that Antony in the eyes of the Egyptians, and probably +also according to their customs, is the rightful husband of the Queen. I +know, too, that you are both against me. Yet Cleopatra is in reality a +Greek, and therefore—eternal gods!—I can sincerely pity her; +but the marriage has been solemnized, and I cannot blame Octavia. She +rears and cherishes, as if they were her own, the children of her +faithless husband and Fulvia, his first wife, who have no claim upon her. +It is more than human to take the stones from the path of the man who +became her foe, as she does. No woman in Alexandria can pray more +fervently than I that Cleopatra and her friend may conquer Octavianus. His +cold nature, highly as my brother esteems him, is repellent to me. But +when I gaze at Octavia’s beautiful, chaste, queenly, noble countenance, +the mirror of true womanly purity——” +</p> +<p> +“You can rejoice,” Archibius added, completing the sentence, and laying +his right hand soothingly on the arm of the excited woman, “only it would +be advisable at this time to put the portrait elsewhere, and rest +satisfied with confiding your opinion of Octavia to your brother and a +friend as reliable as myself. If we conquer, such things may pass; if not— The +messenger tarries long—” +</p> +<p> +Here Barine again entreated him to use the time. She had only once had the +happiness of being noticed by the Queen—just after her song at the +Adonis festival. Then Cleopatra had advanced to thank her. She said only a +few kind words, but in a voice which seemed to penetrate the inmost depths +of her heart and bind her with invisible threads. Meanwhile Barine’s eyes +met those of her sovereign, and at first they roused an ardent desire to +press her lips even on the hem of her robe, but afterwards she felt as if +a venomous serpent had crawled out of the most beautiful flower. +</p> +<p> +Here Archibius interrupted her with the remark that he remembered +perfectly how, after the song, Antony had addressed her at the same time +as the Queen, and Cleopatra lacked no feminine weakness. +</p> +<p> +“Jealousy?” asked Barine, in astonishment. “I was not presumptuous enough +to admit it. I secretly feared that Alexas, the brother of Philostratus, +had prejudiced her. He is as ill-disposed towards me as the man who was my +husband. But everything connected with those two is so base and shameful +that I will not allow it to cloud this pleasant hour. Yet the fear that +Alexas might have slandered me to the Queen is not groundless. He is as +shrewd as his brother, and through Antony, into whose favour he ingratiated +himself, is always in communication with Cleopatra. He went to the war +with him.” +</p> +<p> +“I learned that too late, and am utterly powerless against Antony,” +replied Archibius. +</p> +<p> +“But was it not natural that I should fear he had prejudiced the Queen?” +asked Barine. “At any rate, I imagined that I detected a hostile +expression in her eyes, and it repelled me, though at first I had been so +strongly attracted towards her.” +</p> +<p> +“And had not that other stepped between you, you could not have turned +from her again!” said Archibius. “The first time I saw her I was but a +mere boy, and she—as I have already said—a child eight years +old.” +</p> +<p> +Barine nodded gratefully to Archibius, brought the distaff to her mother, +poured water into the wine in the mixing vessel, and after at first +leaning comfortably back among the cushions, she soon bent forward in a +listening attitude, with her elbow propped on her knee, and her chin +supported by her hand. Berenike drew the flax from the distaff, at first +slowly, then faster and faster. +</p> +<p> +“You know my country-house in the Kanopus,” the guest began. “It was +originally a small summer palace belonging to the royal family, and +underwent little change after we moved into it. Even the garden is +unaltered. It was full of shady old trees. Olympus, the leech, had chosen +this place, that my father might complete within its walls the work of +education entrusted to him. You shall hear the story. At that time +Alexandria was in a state of turmoil, for Rome had not recognized the +King, and ruled over us like Fate, though it had not acknowledged the will +by which the miserable Alexander bequeathed Egypt to him like a field or a +slave. +</p> +<p> +“The King of Egypt, who called himself ‘the new Dionysus,’ was a weak man, +whose birth did not give him the full right to the sovereignty. You know +that the people called him the ‘fluteplayer.’ He really had no greater +pleasure than to hear music and listen to his own performances. He played +by no means badly on more than one instrument, and, moreover, as a +reveller did honour to the other name. Whoever kept sober at the festival +of Dionysus, whose incarnate second self he regarded himself, incurred his +deepest displeasure. +</p> +<p> +“The flute-player’s wife, Queen Tryphœna, and her oldest daughter—she +bore your name, Berenike—ruined his life. Compared with them, the +King was worthy and virtuous. What had become of the heroes and the +high-minded princes of the house of Ptolemy? Every passion and crime had +found a home in their palaces! +</p> +<p> +“The flute-player, Cleopatra’s father, was by no means the worst. He was a +slave to his own caprices; no one had taught him to bridle his passions. +Where it served his purpose, even death was summoned to his aid; but this +was a custom of the last sovereigns of his race. In one respect he was +certainly superior to most of them—he still possessed a capacity to +feel a loathing for the height of crime, to believe in virtue and +loftiness of soul, and the possibility of implanting them in youthful +hearts. When a boy, he had been under the influence of an excellent +teacher, whose precepts had lingered in his memory and led him to +determine to withdraw his favourite children—two girls—from +their mother’s sway, at least as far as possible. +</p> +<p> +“I learned afterwards that it had been his desire to confide the +princesses wholly to my parents’ care. But an invincible power opposed +this. Though Greeks might be permitted to instruct the royal children in +knowledge, the Egyptians would not yield the right to their religious +education. The leech Olympus—you know the good old man—had +insisted that the delicate Cleopatra must spend the coldest winter months +in Upper Egypt, where the sky was never clouded, and the summer near the +sea in a shady garden. The little palace at Kanopus was devoted to this +purpose. +</p> +<p> +“When we moved there it was entirely unoccupied, but the princesses were +soon to be brought to us. During the winter Olympus preferred the island +of Philæ, on the Nubian frontier, because the famous Temple of Isis was +there, and its priests willingly undertook to watch over the children. +</p> +<p> +“The Queen would not listen to any of these plans. Leaving Alexandria and +spending the winter on a lonely island in the tropics was an utterly +incomprehensible idea. So she let the King have his way, and no doubt was +glad to be relieved from the care of the children; for, even after her +royal husband’s exile from the city, she never visited her daughters. +True, death allowed her only a short time to do so. +</p> +<p> +“Her oldest daughter, Berenike, who became her successor, followed her +example, and troubled herself very little about her sisters. I heard +afterwards that she was very glad to know that they were in charge of +persons who filled their minds with other thoughts than the desire to rule. +Her brothers were reared at Lochias by our countryman Theodotus, under the +eyes of their guardian, Pothinus. +</p> +<p> +“Our family life was of course wholly transformed by the reception of the +royal children. In the first place, we moved from our house in the Museum +Square into the little palace at Kanopus, and the big, shady garden +delighted us. I remember, as though it were but yesterday, the morning—I +was then a boy of fifteen—when my father told us that two of the +King’s daughters would soon become members of the household. There were +three of us children—Charmian, who went to the war with the Queen, +because Iras, our niece, was ill; I myself; and Straton, who died long +ago. We were urged to treat the princesses with the utmost courtesy and +consideration, and we perceived that their reception really demanded +respect; for the palace, which we had found empty and desolate, was +refurnished from roof to foundation. +</p> +<p> +“The day before they were expected horses, chariots, and litters came, +while boats and a splendid state galley, fully manned, arrived by sea. +Then a train of male and female slaves appeared, among them two fat +eunuchs. +</p> +<p> +“I can still see the angry look with which my father surveyed all these +people. He drove at once to the city, and on his return his clear eyes +were as untroubled as ever. A court official accompanied him, and only +that portion of the useless amount of luggage and number of persons that +my father desired remained. +</p> +<p> +“The princesses were to come the next morning—it was at the end of +February—flowers were blooming in the grass and on the bushes, while +the foliage of the trees glittered with the fresh green which the rising +sap gives to the young leaves. I was sitting on a strong bough of a +sycamore-tree, which grew opposite to the house, watching for them. Their +arrival was delayed and, as I gazed meanwhile over the garden, I thought +it must surely please them, for not a palace in the city had one so +beautiful. +</p> +<p> +“At last the litters appeared; they had neither runners nor attendants, as +my father had requested, and when the princesses alighted—both at +the same moment—I knew not which way to turn my eyes first, for the +creature that fluttered like a dragon-fly rather than stepped from the +first litter, was not a girl like other mortals—she seemed like a +wish, a hope. When the dainty, beautiful creature turned her head hither +and thither, and at last gazed questioningly, as if beseeching help, into +the faces of my father and mother, who stood at the gate to receive her, +it seemed to me that such must have been the aspect of Psyche when she +stood pleading for mercy at the throne of Zeus. +</p> +<p> +“But it was worth while to look at the other also. Was that Cleopatra? She +might have been the elder, for she was as tall as her sister, but how +utterly unlike! From the waving hair to every movement of the hands and +body the former—it <i>was</i> Cleopatra—had seemed to me as if she +were flying. Everything about the second figure, on the contrary, was +solid, nay, even seemed to offer positive resistance. She sprang from the +litter and alighted on the ground with both feet at once, clung firmly to +the door, and haughtily flung back her head, crowned with a wealth of dark +locks. Her complexion was pink and white, and her blue eyes sparkled +brightly enough; but the expression with which she gazed at my parents was +defiant rather than questioning, and as she glanced around her red lips +curled scornfully as though she deemed her surroundings despicable and +unworthy of her royal birth. +</p> +<p> +“This irritated me against the seven-year-old child, yet I said to myself +that, though it was very beautiful here—thanks to my father’s care—perhaps +it appeared plain and simple when compared with the marble, gold, and +purple of the royal palace whence she came. Her features, too, were +regular and beautiful, and she would have attracted attention by her +loveliness among a multitude. When I soon heard her issue imperious +commands and defiantly insist upon the fulfilment of every wish, I +thought, in my boyish ignorance, that Arsinoë must be the elder; for she +was better suited to wield a sceptre than her sister. I said so to my +brother and Charmian; but we all soon saw which really possessed queenly +majesty; for Arsinoë, if her will were crossed, wept, screamed, and raged +like a lunatic, or, if that proved useless, begged and teased; while if +Cleopatra wanted anything she obtained it in a different way. Even at that +time she knew what weapons would give her victory and, while using them, +she still remained the child of a king. +</p> +<p> +“No artisan’s daughter could have been further removed from airs of +majestic pathos than this embodiment of the most charming childlike grace; +but if anything for which her passionate nature ardently longed was +positively refused, she understood how to attain it by the melody of her +voice, the spell of her eyes, and in extreme cases by a silent tear. When +to such tears were added uplifted hands and a few sweet words, such as, +‘It would make me happy,’ or, ‘Don’t you see how it hurts me?’ resistance +was impossible; and in after-years also her silent tears and the +marvellous music of her voice won her a victory in the decisive questions +of life. +</p> +<p> +“We children were soon playmates and friends, for my parents did not wish +the princesses to begin their studies until after they felt at home with +us. This pleased Arsinoë, although she could already read and write; but +Cleopatra more than once asked to hear something from my father’s store of +wisdom, of which she had been told. +</p> +<p> +“The King and her former teacher had cherished the highest expectations +from the brilliant intellect of this remarkable child, and Olympus once +laid his hand on my curls and bade me take care that the princess did not +outstrip the philosopher’s son. I had always occupied one of the foremost +places, and laughingly escaped, assuring him that there was no danger. +</p> +<p> +“But I soon learned that this warning was not groundless. You will think +that the old fool’s heart has played him a trick, and in the magic garden +of childish memories the gifted young girl was transformed into a goddess. +That she certainly was not; for the immortals are free from the faults and +weaknesses of humanity.” +</p> +<p> +“And what robbed Cleopatra of the renown of resembling the gods?” asked +Barine eagerly. +</p> +<p> +A subtle smile, not wholly free from reproach, accompanied Archibius’s +reply: “Had I spoken of her virtues, you would hardly have thought of +asking further details. But why should I try to conceal what she has +displayed to the world openly enough throughout her whole life? Falsehood +and hypocrisy were as unfamiliar to her as fishing is to the sons of the +desert. The fundamental principles which have dominated this rare +creature’s life and character to the present day are two ceaseless +desires: first, to surpass every one, even in the most difficult +achievements; and, secondly, to love and to be loved in return. From them +emanated what raised her above all other women. Ambition and love will +also sustain her like two mighty wings on the proud height to which they +have borne her, so long as they dwell harmoniously in her fiery soul. +Hitherto a rare favour of destiny has permitted this, and may the +Olympians grant that thus it may ever be!” +</p> +<p> +Here Archibius paused, wiped the perspiration from his brow, asked if the +messenger had arrived, and ordered him to be admitted as soon as he +appeared. Then he went on as calmly as before: +</p> +<p> +“The princesses were members of our household, and in the course of time +they seemed like sisters. During the first winter the King allowed them to +spend only the most inclement months at Philæ, for he was unwilling to +live without them. True, he saw them rarely enough; weeks often elapsed +without a visit; but, on the other hand, he often came day after day to +our garden, clad in plain garments, and borne in an unpretending litter, +for these visits were kept secret from every one save the leech Olympus. +</p> +<p> +“I often saw the tall, strong man, with red, bloated face, playing with +his children like a mechanic who had just returned from work. But he +usually remained only a short time, seeming to be satisfied with having +seen them again. Perhaps he merely wished to assure himself that they were +comfortable with us. At any rate, no one was permitted to go near the +group of plane-trees where he talked with them. +</p> +<p> +“But it is easy to hide amid the dense foliage of these trees, so my +knowledge that he questioned them is not solely hearsay. +</p> +<p> +“Cleopatra was happy with us from the beginning; Arsinoë needed a longer +time; but the King valued only the opinion of his older child, his +darling, on whom he feasted his eyes and ears like a lover. He often shook +his heavy head at the sight of her, and when she gave him one of her apt +replies, he laughed so loudly that the sound of his deep, resonant voice +was heard as far as the house. +</p> +<p> +“Once I saw tear after tear course down his flushed cheeks, and yet his +visit was shorter than usual. The closed <i>harmamaxa</i>* in which he came +bore him from our house directly to the vessel which was to convey him to +Cyprus and Rome. The Alexandrians, headed by the Queen, had forced him to +leave the city and the country. +</p> +<div class="footnote"><p> +* A closed Asiatic travelling-carriage with four wheels. +</p></div> +<p> +“He was indeed unworthy of the crown, but he loved his little daughter +like a true father. Still, it was terrible, monstrous for him to invoke +curses upon the mother and sister of the children, in their presence, and +in the same breath command them to hate and execrate them, but to love and +never forget him. +</p> +<p> +“I was then seventeen and Cleopatra ten years old. I, who loved my parents +better than my life, felt an icy chill run through my veins and then a +touch upon my heart like balsam, as I heard little Arsinoë, after her +father had gone, whisper to her sister, ‘We will hate them—may the +gods destroy them!’ and when Cleopatra answered with tearful eyes, ‘Let us +rather be better than they, very good indeed, Arsinoë, that the immortals +may love us and bring our father back.’ +</p> +<p> +“ ‘Because then he will make you Queen,’ replied Arsinoë sneeringly, still +trembling with angry excitement. +</p> +<p> +“Cleopatra gazed at her with a troubled look. Her tense features +showed that she was weighing the meaning of the words, and I can still +see her as she suddenly drew up her small figure, and said proudly, +‘Yes, I will be Queen!’ +</p> +<p> +“Then her manner changed, and in the sweetest tones of her soft voice, she +said beseechingly, ‘You won’t say such naughty things again, will you?’ +</p> +<p> +“This was at the time that my father’s instruction began to take +possession of her mind. The prediction of Olympus was fulfilled. True, I +attended the school of oratory, but when my father set the royal maiden a +lesson, I was permitted to repeat mine on the same subject, and frequently +I could not help admitting that Cleopatra had succeeded better than I. +</p> +<p> +“Soon there were difficult problems to master, for the intellect of this +wonderful child demanded stronger food, and she was introduced into +philosophy. My father himself belonged to the school of Epicurus, and +succeeded far beyond his expectations in rousing Cleopatra’s interest in +his master’s teachings. She had been made acquainted with the other great +philosophers also, but always returned to Epicurus, and induced the rest +of us to live with her as a true disciple of the noble Samian. +</p> +<p> +“Your father and brother have doubtless made you familiar with the +precepts of the Stoa; yet you have certainly heard that Epicurus spent the +latter part of his life with his friends and pupils in quiet meditation +and instructive conversation in his garden at Athens. We, too—according +to Cleopatra’s wish—were to live thus and call ourselves ‘disciples +of Epicurus.’ +</p> +<p> +“With the exception of Arsinoë, who preferred gayer pastimes, into which +she drew my brother Straton—at that time a giant in strength—we +all liked the plan. I was chosen master, but I perceived that Cleopatra +desired the position, so she took my place. +</p> +<p> +“During our next leisure afternoon we paced up and down the garden, and +the conversation about the chief good was so eager, Cleopatra directed it +with so much skill, and decided doubtful questions so happily, that we +reluctantly obeyed the brazen gong which summoned us to the house, and +spent the whole evening in anticipating the next afternoon. +</p> +<p> +“The following morning my father saw several country people assembled +before the secluded garden; but he did not have time to inquire what they +wanted; for Timagenes, who shared the instruction in history—you +know he was afterwards taken to Rome as a prisoner of war—rushed up +to him, holding out a tablet which bore the inscription Epicurus had +written on the gate of his garden: ‘Stranger, here you will be happy; here +is the chief good, pleasure.’ +</p> +<p> +“Cleopatra had written this notice in large letters on the top of a small +table before sunrise, and a slave had secretly fastened it on the gate for +her. +</p> +<p> +“This prank might have easily proved fatal to our beautiful companionship, +but it had been done merely to make our game exactly like the model. +</p> +<p> +“My father did not forbid our continuing this pastime, but strictly +prohibited our calling ourselves ‘Epicureans’ outside of the garden, for +this noble name had since gained among the people a significance wholly +alien. Epicurus says that true pleasure is to be found only in peace of +mind and absence of pain.” +</p> +<p> +“But every one,” interrupted Barine, “believes that people like the +wealthy Isidorus, whose object in life is to take every pleasure which his +wealth can procure, are the real Epicureans. My mother would not have +confided me long to a teacher by whose associates ‘pleasure’ was deemed +the chief good.” +</p> +<p> +“The daughter of a philosopher,” replied Archibius, gently shaking his +head, “ought to understand what pleasure means in the sense of Epicurus, +and no doubt you do. True, those who are further removed from these things +cannot know that the master forbids yearning for individual pleasure. Have +you an idea of his teachings? No definite one? Then permit me a few words +of explanation. It happens only too often that Epicurus is confounded with +Aristippus, who places sensual pleasure above intellectual enjoyment, as +he holds that bodily pain is harder to endure than mental anguish. +Epicurus, on the contrary, considers intellectual pleasure to be the +higher one; for sensual enjoyment, which he believes free to every one, +can be experienced only in the present, while intellectual delight extends +to both the past and the future. To the Epicureans the goal of life, as +has already been mentioned, is to attain the chief blessings, peace of +mind, and freedom from pain. He is to practise virtue only because it +brings him pleasure; for who could remain virtuous without being wise, +noble, and just?—and whoever is all these cannot have his peace of +mind disturbed, and must be really happy in the exact meaning of the +master. I perceived long since the peril lurking in this system of +instruction, which takes no account of moral excellence; but at that time +it seemed to me also the chief good. +</p> +<p> +“How all this charmed the mind of the thoughtful child, still untouched by +passion! It was difficult to supply her wonderfully vigorous intellect +with sufficient sustenance, and she really felt that to enrich it was the +highest pleasure. And to her, who could scarcely endure to have a rude +hand touch her, though a small grief or trivial disappointment could not +be averted, the freedom from pain which the master had named as the first +condition for the existence of every pleasure, and termed the chief good, +seemed indeed the first condition of a happy life. +</p> +<p> +“Yet this child, whom my father once compared to a thinking flower, bore +without complaint her sad destiny—her father’s banishment, her +mother’s death, her sister Berenike’s profligacy. Even to me, in whom she +found a second brother and fully trusted, she spoke of these sorrowful +things only in guarded allusions. I know that she understood what was +passing fully and perfectly, and how deeply she felt it; but pain placed +itself between her and the ‘chief good,’ and she mastered it. And when she +sat at work, with what tenacious power the delicate creature struggled +until she had conquered the hardest task and outstripped Charmian and even +me! +</p> +<p> +“In those days I understood why, among the gods, a maiden rules over +learning, and why she is armed with the weapons of war. You have heard how +many languages Cleopatra speaks. A remark of Timagenes had fallen into her +soul like a seed. ‘With every language you learn,’ he had said, ‘you will +gain a nation.’ But there were many peoples in her father’s kingdom, and +when she was Queen they must all love her. True, she began with the tongue +of the conquerors, not the conquered. So it happened that we first learned +Lucretius, who reproduces in verse the doctrines of Epicurus. My father +was our teacher, and the second year she read Lucretius as if it were a +Greek book. She had only half known Egyptian; now she speedily acquired +it. During our stay at Philæ she found a troglodyte who was induced to +teach her his language. There were Jews enough here in Alexandria to +instruct her in theirs, and she also learned its kindred tongue, Arabic. +</p> +<p> +“When, many years later, she visited Antony at Tarsus, the warriors +imagined that some piece of Egyptian magic was at work, for she addressed +each commander in his own tongue, and talked with him as if she were a +native of the same country. +</p> +<p> +“It was the same with everything. She outstripped us in every branch of +study. To her burning ambition it would have been unbearable to lag +behind. +</p> +<p> +“The Roman Lucretius became her favourite poet, although she was no more +friendly to his nation than I, but the self-conscious power of the foe +pleased her, and once I heard her exclaim ‘Ah! if the Egyptians were +Romans, I would give up our garden for Berenike’s throne.’ +</p> +<p> +“Lucretius constantly led her back to Epicurus, and awakened a severe +conflict in her unresting mind. You probably know that he teaches that +life in itself is not so great a blessing that it must be deemed a +misfortune <i>not to live</i>. It is only spoiled by having death appear to us as +the greatest of misfortunes. Only the soul which ceases to regard death as +a misfortune finds peace. Whoever knows that thought and feeling end with +life will not fear death; for, no matter how many dear and precious things +the dead have left here below, their yearning for them has ceased with +life. He declares that providing for the body is the greatest folly, while +the Egyptian religion, in which Anubis strove to strengthen her faith, +maintained precisely the opposite. +</p> +<p> +“To a certain degree he succeeded, for his personality exerted a powerful +influence over her; and besides, she naturally took great pleasure in +mystical, supernatural things, as my brother Straton did in physical +strength, and you, Barine, enjoy the gift of song. You know Anubis by +sight. What Alexandrian has not seen this remarkable man?—and whoever has +once met his eyes does not easily forget him. He does indeed rule over +mysterious powers, and he used them in his intercourse with the young +princess. It is his work if she cleaves to the religious belief of her +people, if she who is a Hellene to the last drop of blood loves Egypt, and +is ready to make any sacrifice for her independence and grandeur. She is +called ‘the new Isis,’ but Isis presides over the magic arts of the +Egyptians, and Anubis initiated Cleopatra into this secret science, and +even persuaded her to enter the observatory and the laboratory—— +</p> +<p> +“But all these things had their origin in our garden of Epicurus, and my +father did not venture to forbid it; for the King had sent a message from +Rome to say that he was glad to have Cleopatra find pleasure in her own +people and their secret knowledge. +</p> +<p> +“The flute-player, during his stay on the Tiber, had given his gold to the +right men or bound them as creditors to his interest. After Pompey, +Cæsar, and Crassus had concluded their alliance, they consented at Lucca +to the restoration of the Ptolemy. Millions upon millions would not have +seemed to him too large a price for this object. Pompey would rather have +gone to Egypt himself, but the jealousy of the others would not permit it. +Gabinius, the Governor of Syria, received the commission. +</p> +<p> +“But the occupants of the Egyptian throne were not disposed to resign it +without a struggle. You know that meanwhile Queen Berenike, Cleopatra’s +sister, had been twice married. She had her miserable first husband +strangled—a more manly spouse had been chosen by the Alexandrians +for her second consort. He bravely defended his rights, and lost his life +on the field of battle. +</p> +<p> +“The senate learned speedily enough that Gabinius had brought the Ptolemy +back to his country; the news reached us more slowly. We watched for every +rumour with the same passionate anxiety as now. +</p> +<p> +“At that time Cleopatra was fourteen, and had developed magnificently. +Yonder portrait shows the perfect flower, but the bud possessed, if +possible, even more exquisite charm. How clear and earnest was the gaze of +her bright eyes! When she was gay they could shine like stars, and then +her little red mouth had an indescribably mischievous expression, and in +each cheek came one of the tiny dimples which still delight every one. Her +nose was more delicate than it is now, and the slight curve which appears +in the portrait, and which is far too prominent in the coins, was not +visible. Her hair did not grow dark until later in life. My sister +Charmian had no greater pleasure than to arrange its wavy abundance. It +was like silk, she often said, and she was right. I know this, for when at +the festival of Isis, Cleopatra, holding the sistrum, followed the image +of the goddess, she was obliged to wear it unconfined. On her return home +she often shook her head merrily, and her hair fell about her like a +cataract, veiling her face and figure. Then, as now, she was not above +middle height, but her form possessed the most exquisite symmetry, only it +was still more delicate and pliant. +</p> +<p> +“She had understood how to win all hearts. Yet, though she seemed to +esteem our father higher, trust me more fully, look up to Anubis with +greater reverence, and prefer to argue with the keen-witted Timagenes, she +still appeared to hold all who surrounded her in equal favour, while +Arsinoë left me in the lurch if Straton were present, and whenever the +handsome Melnodor, one of my father’s pupils, came to us, she fairly +devoured him with her glowing eyes. +</p> +<p> +“As soon as it was rumoured that the Romans were bringing the King back, +Queen Berenike came to us to take the young girls to the city. When +Cleopatra entreated her to leave her in our parents’ care and not +interrupt her studies, a scornful smile flitted over Berenike’s face, and +turning to her husband Archelaus, she said scornfully, ‘I think books will +prove to be the smallest danger.’ +</p> +<p> +“Pothinus, the guardian of the two princesses’ brothers, had formerly +permitted them at times to visit their sisters. Now they were no longer +allowed to leave Lochias, but neither Cleopatra nor Arsinoë made many +inquiries about them. The little boys always retreated from their +caresses, and the Egyptian locks on their temples, which marked the age of +childhood, and the Egyptian garments which Pothinus made them wear, lent +them an unfamiliar aspect. +</p> +<p> +“When it was reported that the Romans were advancing from Gaza, both girls +were overpowered by passionate excitement. Arsinoë’s glittered in every +glance; Cleopatra understood how to conceal hers, but her colour often +varied, and her face, which was not pink and white like her sister’s, but—how +shall I express it?——” +</p> +<p> +“I know what you mean,” Barine interrupted. “When I saw her, nothing +seemed to me more charming than that pallid hue through which the crimson +of her cheeks shines like the flame through yonder alabaster lamp, the +tint of the peach through the down. I have seen it often in convalescents. +Aphrodite breathes this hue on the faces and figures of her favourites +only, as the god of time imparts the green tinge to the bronze. Nothing is +more beautiful than when such women blush.” +</p> +<p> +“Your sight is keen,” replied Archibius, smiling. “It seemed indeed as if +not Eos, but her faint reflection in the western horizon, was tinting the +sky, when joy or shame sent the colour to her cheeks, But when wrath took +possession of her—and ere the King’s return this often happened—she +could look as if she were lifeless, like a marble statue, with lips as +colourless as those of a corpse. +</p> +<p> +“My father said that the blood of Physkon and other degenerate ancestors, +who had not learned to control their passions, was asserting itself in her +also. But I must continue my story, or the messenger will interrupt me too +soon. +</p> +<p> +“Gabinius was bringing back the King. But from the time of his approach +with the Roman army and the auxiliary troops of the Ethnarch of Judea, +nothing more was learned of him or of Antipater, who commanded the forces +of Hyrkanus; every one talked constantly of the Roman general Antony. He +had led the troops successfully through the deserts between Syria and the +Egyptian Delta without losing a single man on the dangerous road by the +Sirbonian Sea and Barathra, where many an army had met destruction. Not to +Antipater, but to him, had the Jewish garrison of Pelusium surrendered +their city without striking a blow. He had conquered in two battles; and +the second, where, as you know, Berenike’s husband fell after a brave +resistance, had decided the destiny of the country. +</p> +<p> +“From the time his name was first mentioned, neither of the girls could +hear enough about him. It was said that he was the most aristocratic of +aristocratic Romans, the most reckless of the daring, the wildest of the +riotous, and the handsomest of the handsome. +</p> +<p> +“The waiting-maid from Mantua, with whom Cleopatra practised speaking the +Roman language, had often seen him, and had heard of him still more +frequently—for his mode of life was the theme of gossip among all +classes of Roman men and women. His house was said to have descended in a +direct line from Hercules, and his figure and magnificent black beard +recalled his ancestor. You know him, and know that the things reported of +him are those which a young girl cannot hear with indifference, and at +that time he was nearly five lustra younger than he is to-day. +</p> +<p> +“How eagerly Arsinoë listened when his name was uttered! How Cleopatra +flushed and paled when Timagenes condemned him as an unprincipled +libertine! True, Antony was opening her father’s path to his home. +</p> +<p> +“The flute-player had not forgotten his daughters. He had remained aloof +from the battle, but as soon as the victory was decided, he pressed on +into the city. +</p> +<p> +“The road led past our garden. +</p> +<p> +“The King had barely time to send a runner to his daughters, fifteen +minutes before his arrival, to say that he desired to greet them. They +were hurriedly attired in festal garments, and both presented an +appearance that might well gladden a father’s heart. +</p> +<p> +“Cleopatra was not yet as tall as Arsinoë, but, though only fourteen, she +looked like a full-grown maiden, while her sister’s face and figure showed +that in years she was still a child. But she was no longer one in heart. +Bouquets for the returning sovereign had been arranged as well as haste +permitted. Each one of the girls held one in her hand when the train +approached. +</p> +<p> +“My parents accompanied them to the garden gate. I could see what was +passing, but could hear distinctly only the voices of the men. +</p> +<p> +“The King alighted from the travelling chariot, which was drawn by eight +white Median steeds. The chamberlain who attended him was obliged to +support him. His face, reddened by his potations, fairly beamed as he +greeted his daughters. His joyful surprise at the sight of both, but +especially of Cleopatra, was evident. True, he kissed and embraced +Arsinoë, but after that he had eyes and ears solely for Cleopatra. +</p> +<p> +“Yet his younger daughter was very beautiful. Away from her sister, she +would have commanded the utmost admiration; but Cleopatra was like the +sun, beside which every other heavenly body pales. Yet, no; she should not +be compared to the sun. It was part of the fascination she exerted that +every one felt compelled to gaze at her, to discover the source of the +charm which emanated from her whole person. +</p> +<p> +“Antony, too, was enthralled by the spell as soon as he heard the first +words from her lips. He had dashed up to the King’s chariot, and seeing +the two daughters by their father’s side, he greeted them with a hasty +salute. When, in reply to the question whether he might hope for her +gratitude for bringing her father back to her so quickly, she said that as +a daughter she sincerely rejoiced, but as an Egyptian the task would be +harder, he gazed more keenly at her. +</p> +<p> +“I did not know her answer until later; but ere the last sound of her +voice had died away, I saw the Roman spring from his charger and fling the +bridle to Ammonius—the chamberlain who had assisted the King from +the chariot—as if he were his groom. The woman-hunter had met with +rare game in his pursuit of the fairest, and while he continued his +conversation with Cleopatra her father sometimes joined in, and his deep +laughter was often heard. +</p> +<p> +“No one would have recognized the earnest disciple of Epicurus. We had +often heard apt replies and original thoughts from Cleopatra’s lips, but +she had rarely answered Timagenes’s jests with another. Now she found—one +could see it by watching the speakers—a witty answer to many of +Antony’s remarks. It seemed as if, for the first time, she had met some +one for whom she deemed it worth while to bring into the field every gift +of her deep and quick intelligence. Yet she did not lose for a moment her +womanly dignity; her eyes did not sparkle one whit more brightly than +during an animated conversation with me or our father. +</p> +<p> +“It was very different with Arsinoë. When Antony flung himself from his +horse, she had moved nearer to her sister, but, as the Roman continued to +overlook her, her face crimsoned, she bit her scarlet lips. Her whole +attitude betrayed the agitation that mastered her, and I, who knew her, +saw by the expression of her eyes and her quivering nostrils that she was +on the point of bursting into tears. Though Cleopatra stood so much nearer +to my heart, I felt sorry for her, and longed to touch the arm of the +haughty Roman, who indeed looked like the god of war, and whisper to him +to take some little notice of the poor child, who was also a daughter of +the King. +</p> +<p> +“But a still harder blow was destined to fall upon Arsinoë; for when the +King, who had been holding both bouquets, warned Antony that it was time +to depart, he took one, and I heard him say in his deep, loud tones, +‘Whoever calls such flowers his daughters does not need so many others.’ +Then he gave Cleopatra the blossoms and, laying his hand upon his heart, +expressed the hope of seeing her in Alexandria, and swung himself upon the +charger which the chamberlain, pale with fury, was still holding by the +bridle. +</p> +<p> +“The flute-player was delighted with his oldest daughter, and told my +father he would have the young princess conveyed to the city on the day +after the morrow. The next day he had things to do of which he desired her +to have no knowledge. Our father, in token of his gratitude, should retain +for himself and his heirs the summer palace and the garden. He would see +that the change of owner was entered in the land register. This was really +done that very day. It was, indeed, his first act save one—the +execution of his daughter Berenike. +</p> +<p> +“This ruler, who would have seemed to any one who beheld his meeting with +his children a warm-hearted man and a tender father, at that time would +have put half Alexandria to the sword, had not Antony interposed. He +forbade the bloodshed, and honoured Berenike’s dead husband by a stately +funeral. +</p> +<p> +“As the steed bore him away, he turned back towards Cleopatra; he could +not have saluted Arsinoë, for she had rushed into the garden, and her +swollen face betrayed that she had shed burning tears. +</p> +<p> +“From that hour she bitterly hated Cleopatra. +</p> +<p> +“On the day appointed, the King brought the princesses to the city with +regal splendour. The Alexandrians joyously greeted the royal sisters, as, +seated on a golden throne, over which waved ostrich-feathers, they were +borne in state down the Street of the King, surrounded by dignitaries, +army commanders, the body-guard, and the senate of the city. Cleopatra +received the adulation of the populace with gracious majesty, as if she +were already Queen. Whoever had seen her as, with floods of tears, she +bade us all farewell, assuring us of her gratitude and faithful +remembrance, the sisterly affection she showed me—I had just been +elected commander of the Ephebi—” Here Archibius was interrupted by +a slave, who announced the arrival of the messenger, and, rising +hurriedly, he went to Leonax’s workshop, to which the man had been +conducted, that he might speak to him alone. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch06"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER VI. +</h3> + +<p> +The men sent by Archibius to obtain news had brought back no definite +information; but a short time before, a royal runner had handed him a +tablet from Iras, requesting him to visit her the next day. Disquieting, +but fortunately as yet unverified tidings had arrived. The Regent was +doing everything in his power to ascertain the truth; but he (Archibius) +was aware of the distrust of the government, and everything connected with +it, felt by the sailors and all the seafaring folk at the harbour. An +independent person like himself could often learn more than the chief of +the harbour police, with all his ships and men. +</p> +<p> +The little tablet was accompanied by a second, which, in the Regent’s +name, authorized the bearer to have the harbour chains raised anywhere, to +go out into the open sea and return without interference. +</p> +<p> +The messenger, the overseer of Archibius’s galley slaves, was an +experienced man. He undertook to have the “Epicurus”—a swift vessel, +which Cleopatra had given to her friend—ready for a voyage to the +open sea within two hours. The carriage should be sent for his master, +that no time might be lost. +</p> +<p> +When Archibius had returned to the ladies and asked whether it would be an +abuse of their hospitality, if—it was now nearly midnight—he +should still delay his departure for a time, they expressed sincere +pleasure, and begged him to continue his narrative. +</p> +<p> +“I must hasten,” he hurriedly began, after eating the lunch which Berenike +had ordered while he was talking with the messenger, “but the events of +the next few years are hardly worth mentioning. Besides, my time was +wholly occupied by my studies in the museum. +</p> +<p> +“As for Cleopatra and Arsinoë, they stood like queens at the head of all +the magnificence of the court. The day on which they left our house was +the last of their childhood. +</p> +<p> +“Who would venture to determine whether her father’s restoration, or the +meeting with Antony, had wrought the great change which took place at that +time in Cleopatra? +</p> +<p> +“Just before she left us, my mother had lamented that she must give her to +a father like the flute-player, instead of to a worthy mother; for the +best could not help regarding herself happy in the possession of such a +daughter. Afterwards her character and conduct were better suited to +delight men than to please a mother. The yearning for peace of mind seemed +over. Only the noisy festivals, the singing and music, of which there was +never any cessation in the palace of the royal virtuoso, seemed to weary +her and at such times she appeared at our house and spent several days +beneath its roof. Arsinoë never accompanied her; her heart was sometimes +won by a golden-haired officer in the ranks of the German horsemen whom +Gabinius had left among the garrison of Alexandria, sometimes by a +Macedonian noble among the youths who, at that time, performed the service +of guarding the palace. +</p> +<p> +“Cleopatra lived apart from her, and Arsinoë openly showed her hostility +from the time that she entreated her to put an end to the scandal caused +by her love affairs. +</p> +<p> +“Cleopatra held aloof from such things. +</p> +<p> +“Though she had devoted much time to the magic arts of the Egyptians, her +clear intellect had rendered her so familiar with the philosophy of the +Hellenes that it was a pleasure to hear her converse or argue in the +museum—as she often did—with the leaders of the various schools. Her +self-confidence had become very strong. Though, while with us, she said +that she longed to return to the days of the peaceful Garden of Epicurus, +she devoted herself eagerly enough to the events occurring in the world +and to statecraft. She was familiar with everything in Rome, the desires +and struggles of the contending parties, as well as the characters of the +men who were directing affairs, their qualities, views, and aims. +</p> +<p> +“She followed Antony’s career with the interest of love, for she had +bestowed on him the first affection of her young heart. She had expected +the greatest achievements, but his subsequent course seemed to belie these +lofty hopes. A tinge of scorn coloured her remarks concerning him at that +time, but here also her heart had its share. +</p> +<p> +“Pompey, to whom her father owed his restoration to the throne, she +considered a lucky man, rather than a great and wise one. Of Julius +Cæsar, on the contrary, long before she met him, she spoke with ardent +enthusiasm, though she knew that he would gladly have made Egypt a Roman +province. The greatest deed which she expected from the energetic Julius +was that he would abolish the republic, which she hated, and soar upward +to tyrannize over the arrogant rulers of the world—only she would +fain have seen Antony in his place. How often in those days she used magic +art to assure herself of his future! Her father was interested in these +things, especially as, through them, and the power of the mighty Isis, he +expected to obtain relief from his many and severe sufferings. +</p> +<p> +“Cleopatra’s brothers were still mere boys, completely dependent upon +their guardian, Pothinus, to whom the King left the care of the +government, and their tutor, Theodotus, a clever but unprincipled +rhetorician. These two men and Achillas, the commander of the troops, +would gladly have aided Dionysus, the King’s oldest male heir, to obtain +the control of the state, in order afterwards to rule him, but the +flute-player baffled their plans. You know that in his last will he made +Cleopatra, his favourite child, his successor, but her brother Dionysus +was to share the throne as her husband. This caused much scandal in Rome, +though it was an old custom of the house of Ptolemy, and suited the +Egyptians. +</p> +<p> +“The flute-player died. Cleopatra became Queen, and at the same time the +wife of a husband ten years old, for whom she did not even possess the +natural gift of sisterly tenderness. But with the obstinate child who had +been told by his counsellors that the right to rule should be his alone, +she also married the former governors of the country. +</p> +<p> +“Then began a period of sore suffering. Her life was a perpetual battle +against notorious intrigues, the worst of which owed their origin to her +sister. Arsinoë had surrounded herself with a court of her own, managed by +the eunuch Ganymedes, an experienced commander, and at the same time a +shrewd adviser, wholly devoted to her interest. He understood how to bring +her into close relations with Pothinus and other rulers of the state, and +thus at last united all who possessed any power in the royal palace in an +endeavour to thrust Cleopatra from the throne. Pothinus, Theodotus, and +Achillas hated her because she saw their failings and made them feel the +superiority of her intellect. Their combined efforts might have succeeded +in overthrowing her before, had not the Alexandrians, headed by the +Ephebi, over whom I still had some influence, stood by her so steadfastly. +Whoever could still be classed as a ‘youth’ glowed with enthusiasm for her, +and most of the Macedonian nobles in the body-guard would have gone to +death for her sake, though she had forced them to gaze hopelessly up to +her as if she were some unapproachable goddess. +</p> +<p> +“When her father died she was seventeen, but she knew how to resist +oppressors and foes as if she were a man. My sister, Charmian, whom she +had appointed to a place in her service, loyally aided her. At that time +she was a beautiful and lovable girl, but the spell exerted by the Queen +fettered her like chains and bonds. She voluntarily resigned the love of a +noble man—he afterwards became your husband, Berenike—in order +not to leave her royal friend at a time when she so urgently needed her. +Since then my sister has shut her heart against love. It belonged to +Cleopatra. She lives, thinks, cares for her alone. She is fond of you, +Barine, because your father was so dear to her. Iras, whose name is so +often associated with hers, is the daughter of my oldest sister, who was +already married when the King entrusted the princesses to our father’s +care. She is thirteen years younger than Cleopatra, but her mistress holds +the first place in her heart also. Her father, the wealthy Krates, made +every effort to keep her from entering the service of the Queen, but in +vain. A single conversation with this marvellous woman had bound her +forever. +</p> +<p> +“But I must be brief. You have doubtless heard how completely Cleopatra +bewitched Pompey’s son during his visit to Alexandria. She had not been so +gracious to any man since her meeting with Antony, and it was not from +affection, but to maintain the independence of her beloved native land. At +that time the father of Gnejus was the man who possessed the most power, +and statecraft commanded her to win him through his son. The young Roman +also took his leave ‘full of her,’ as the Egyptians say. This pleased her, +but the visit greatly aided her foes. There was no slander which was not +disseminated against her. The commanders of the body-guard, whom she had +always treated as a haughty Queen, had seen her associate with Pompey’s +son in the theatre as if he were a friend of equal rank; and on many other +occasions the Alexandrians saw her repay his courtesies in the same coin. +But in those days hatred of Rome surged high. The regents, leagued with +Arsinoë, spread the rumour that Cleopatra would deliver Egypt up to +Pompey, if the senate would secure to her the sole sovereignty of the new +province, and leave her free to rid herself of her royal brother and +husband. +</p> +<p> +“She was compelled to fly, and went first to the Syrian frontier, to gain +friends for her cause among the Asiatic princes. My brother Straton—you +remember the noble youth who won the prize for wrestling at Olympia, +Berenike—and I were commissioned to carry the treasure to her. We +doubtless exposed ourselves to great peril, but we did so gladly, and left +Alexandria with a few camels, an ox-cart, and some trusted slaves. We were +to go to Gaza, where Cleopatra was already beginning to collect an army, +and had disguised ourselves as Nabatæan merchants. The languages which I +had learned, in order not to be distanced by Cleopatra, were now of great +service. +</p> +<p> +“Those were stirring times. The names of Cæsar and Pompey were in every +mouth. After the defeat at Dyrrachium the cause of Julius seemed lost, but +the Pharsalian battle again placed him uppermost, unless the East rose in +behalf of Pompey. Both seemed to be favourites of Fortune. The question +now was to which the goddess would prove most faithful. +</p> +<p> +“My sister Charmian was with the Queen, but through one of Arsinoë’s +maids, who was devoted to her, we had learned from the palace that +Pompey’s fate was decided. He had come a fugitive from the defeat of +Pharsalus, and begged the King of Egypt—that is, the men who were +acting in his name—for a hospitable reception. Pothinus and his +associates had rarely confronted a greater embarrassment. The troops and +ships of the victorious Cæsar were close at hand; many of Gabinius’ men +were serving in the Egyptian army. To receive the vanquished Pompey kindly +was to make the victorious Cæsar a foe. I was to witness the terrible +solution of this dilemma. The infamous words of Theodotus, ‘Dead dogs no +longer bite,’ had turned the scale. +</p> +<p> +“My brother and I reached Mount Casius with our precious freight, and +pitched our tents to await a messenger, when a large body of armed men +approached from the city. At first we feared that we were pursued; but a +spy reported that the King himself was among the soldiery, and at the same +time a large Roman galley drew near the coast. It must be Pompey’s. So +they had changed their views, and the King was coming in person to receive +their guest. The troops encamped on the flat shore on which stood the +Temple of the Casian Amon. +</p> +<p> +“The September sun shone brightly, and was reflected from the weapons. +From the high bank of the dry bed of the river, where we had pitched our +tent, we saw something scarlet move to and fro. It was the King’s mantle. +The waves, stirred by the autumn breeze, rippled lightly, blue as +cornflowers, over the yellow sand of the dunes; but the King stood still, +shading his eyes with his hand as he gazed at the galley. Meanwhile, +Achillas, the commander of the troops, and Septimius, the tribune, who +belonged to the Roman garrison in Alexandria, and who, I knew, had served +under Pompey and owed him many favours, had entered a boat and put off to +the vessel, which could not come nearer the land on account of the shallow +water. +</p> +<p> +“The conference now began, and Achillas’s offer of hospitality must have +been very warm and well calculated to inspire confidence, for a tall lady—it +was Cornelia, the wife of the Imperator—waved her hand to him in +token of gratitude.” +</p> +<p> +Here the speaker paused, drew a long breath, and, pressing his hand to his +brow, continued: +</p> +<p> +“What follows—alas, that it was my fate to witness +the dreadful scene! How often a garbled account has been given, and yet +the whole was so terribly simple! +</p> +<p> +“Fortune makes her favourites confiding. Pompey was also. Though more than +fifty years old—he lacked two years of sixty—he sprang into +the boat quickly enough, with merely a little assistance from a freedman. +A sailor—he was a negro—shoved the skiff off from the side of +the huge ship as violently as if the pole he used for the purpose was a +spear, and the galley his foe. The boat, urged by his companions’ oars, +had already moved forward, and he stumbled, the brown cap falling from his +woolly head in the act. It seems as if I could still see him. Ere I +clearly realized that this was an evil omen, the boat stopped. +</p> +<p> +“The water was shallow. I saw Achillas point to the shore. It could be +reached by a single bound. Pompey looked towards the King. The freedman +put his hand under his arm to help him rise. Septimius also stood up. I +thought he intended to assist him. But no! What did this mean? Something +flashed by the Imperator’s silver-grey hair as if a spark had fallen from +the sky. Would Pompey defend himself, or why did he raise his hand? It was +to draw around him the toga, with which he silently covered his face. The +tribune’s arm was again raised high into the air, and then—what +confusion! Here, there, yonder, hands suddenly appeared aloft, bright +flashes darted through the clear air. Achillas, the general, dealt blows +with his dagger as if he were skilled in murder. The Imperator’s stalwart +figure sank forward. The freedman supported him. +</p> +<p> +“Then shouts arose, here a cry of fury, yonder a wail of grief, and, +rising above all, a woman’s shriek of anguish. It came from the lips of +Cornelia, the murdered man’s wife. Shouts of applause from the King’s camp +followed, then the blast of a trumpet; the Egyptians drew back from the +shore. The scarlet cloak again appeared. Septimius, bearing in his hand a +bleeding head, went towards it and held the ghastly trophy aloft. The +royal boy gazed into the dull eyes of the victim, who had guided the +destinies of many a battlefield, of Rome, of two quarters of the globe. +The sight was probably too terrible for the child upon the throne, for he +averted his head. The ship moved away from the land, the Egyptians formed +into ranks and marched off. Achillas cleansed his blood-stained hands in +the sea-water. The freedman beside him washed his master’s headless trunk. +The general shrugged his shoulders as the faithful fellow heaped +reproaches on him.” +</p> +<p> +Here Archibius paused, drawing a long breath. Then he continued more +calmly: +</p> +<p> +“Achillas did not lead the troops back to Alexandria, but eastward, +towards Pelusium, as I learned later. +</p> +<p> +“My brother and I stood on the rocky edge of the ravine. It was long ere +either spoke. A cloud of dust concealed the King and his body-guard, the +sails of the galley disappeared. Twilight closed in, and Straton pointed +westward towards Alexandria. Then the sun set. Red! red! It seemed as if a +torrent of blood was pouring over the city. +</p> +<p> +“Night followed. A scanty fire was glimmering on the strand. Where had the +wood been gathered in this desert? How had it been kindled? A wrecked, +mouldering boat had lain close beside the scene of the murder. The +freedman and his companions had broken it up and fed the flames with +withered boughs, the torn garments of the murdered man, and dry sea-weed. +A blaze soon rose, and a body was carefully placed upon the wretched +funeral pyre. It was the corpse of the great Pompey. One of the +Imperator’s veterans aided the faithful servant.” +</p> +<p> +Here Archibius sank back again among the cushions, adding in explanation: +</p> +<p> +“Cordus, the man’s name was Servius Cordus. He fared well later. The Queen +provided for him. The others? Fate overtook them all soon enough. +Theodotus was condemned by Brutus to a torturing death. Amid his loud +shrieks of agony one of Pompey’s veterans shouted, ‘Dead dogs no longer +bite, but they howl when dying!’ +</p> +<p> +“It was worthy of Cæsar that he averted his face in horror from the head +of his enemy, which Theodotus sent to him. Pothinus, too, vainly awaited +the reward of his infamous deed. +</p> +<p> +“Julius Cæsar had cast anchor before Alexandria shortly after the King’s +return. Not until after his arrival in Egypt did he learn how Pompey had +been received there. You know that he remained nine months. How often I +have heard it said that Cleopatra understood how to chain him here! This +is both true and false. He was obliged to stay half a year; the following +three months he did indeed give to the woman whom he loved. Ay, the heart +of the man of fifty-four had again opened to a great passion. Like all +wounds, those inflicted by the arrows of Eros heal more slowly when youth +lies behind the stricken one. It was not only the eyes and the senses +which attracted a couple so widely separated by years, but far more the +mental characteristics of both. Two winged intellects had met. The genius +of one had recognized that of the other. The highest type of manhood had +met perfect womanhood. They could not fail to attract each other. I +expected it; for Cleopatra had long watched breathlessly the flight of +this eagle who soared so far above the others, and she was strong enough +to keep at his side. +</p> +<p> +“We succeeded in joining Cleopatra, and heard that, spite of the hostility +of our citizens, Cæsar had occupied the palace of the Ptolemies and was +engaged in restoring order. +</p> +<p> +“We knew in what way Pothinus, Achillas, and Arsinoë would seek to +influence him. Cleopatra had good reason to fear that her foes might +deliver Egypt unconditionally to Rome, if Cæsar should leave the reins of +government in their hands and shut her out. She had cause to dread this, +but she also had the courage to act in person in her own behalf. +</p> +<p> +“The point now was to bring her into the city, the palace—nay, into direct +communication with the dictator. Children tell the tale of the strong man +who bore Cleopatra in a sack through the palace portals. It was not a sack +which concealed her, but a Syrian carpet. The strong man was my brother +Straton. I went first, to secure a free passage. +</p> +<p> +“Julius Cæsar and she saw and found each other. Fate merely drew the +conclusion which must result from such premises. Never have I seen +Cleopatra happier, more exalted in mind and heart, yet she was menaced on +all sides by serious perils. It required all the military genius of Cæsar +to conquer the fierce hostility which he encountered here. It was this, +not the thrall of Cleopatra, I repeat, which first bound him to Egypt. +What would have prevented him—as he did later—from taking the +object of his love to Rome, had it been possible at that time? But this +was not the case. The Alexandrians provided for that. +</p> +<p> +“He had recognized the flute-player’s will, nay, had granted more to the +royal house than could have been given to the former. Cleopatra and her +brother-husband, Dionysus, were to share the government, and he also +bestowed on Arsinoë and her youngest brother the island of Cyprus, which +had been wrested from their uncle Ptolemy by the republic. Rome was, of +course, to remain the guardian of the brothers and sisters. +</p> +<p> +“This arrangement was unendurable to Pothinus and the former rulers of the +state. Cleopatra as Queen, and Rome—that is Cæsar, the dictator, +her friend, as guardian—meant their removal from power, their +destruction, and they resisted violently. +</p> +<p> +“The Egyptians and even the Alexandrians supported them. The young King +hated nothing more than the yoke of the unloved sister, who was so greatly +his superior. Cæsar had come with a force by no means equal to theirs, +and it might be possible to draw the mighty general into a snare. They +fought with all the power at their command, with such passionate +eagerness, that the dictator had never been nearer succumbing to peril. +But Cleopatra certainly did not paralyze his strength and cautious +deliberation. No! He had never been greater; never proved the power of his +genius so magnificently. And against what superior power, what hatred he +contended! I myself saw the young King, when he heard that Cleopatra had +succeeded in entering the palace and meeting Cæsar, rush into the street, +fairly crazed by rage, tear the diadem from his head, hurl it on the +pavement, and shriek to the passers-by that he was betrayed, until +Cæsar’s soldiers forced him back into the palace, and dispersed the mob. +</p> +<p> +“Arsinoë had received more than she could venture to expect; but she was +again most deeply angered. After Cæsar’s entry into the palace, she had +received him as Queen, and hoped everything from his favour. Then her +hated sister had come and, as so often happened, she was forgotten for +Cleopatra’s sake. +</p> +<p> +“This was too much, and with the eunuch Ganymedes, her confidant, and—as +I have already said—an able warrior, she left the palace and joined +the dictator’s foes. +</p> +<p> +“There were severe battles on land and sea; in the streets of the city, +for the drinkable water excavated by the foe; and against the +conflagration which destroyed part of the Bruchium and the library of the +museum. Yet, half dead with thirst, barely escaped from drowning, +threatened on all sides by fierce hatred, he stood firm, and remained +victor also in the open field, after the young King had placed himself at +the head of the Egyptians and collected an army. +</p> +<p> +“You know that the boy was drowned in the flight. +</p> +<p> +“In battle and mortal peril, amid blood and the clank of arms, Cæsar and +Cleopatra spent half a year ere they were permitted to pluck the fruit of +their common labour. The dictator now made her Queen of Egypt, and gave +her, as co-regent, her youngest brother, a boy not half her own age. To +Arsinoë he granted the life she had forfeited, but sent her to Italy. +</p> +<p> +“Peace followed the victory. Now, it is true, grave duties must have +summoned the statesman back to Rome, but he tarried three full months +longer. +</p> +<p> +“Whoever knows the life of the ambitious Julius, and is aware what this +delay might have cost him, may well strike his brow with his hand, and +ask, ‘Is it true and possible that he used this precious time to take a +trip with the woman he loved up the Nile, to the island of Isis, which is +so dear to the Queen, to the extreme southern frontier of the country?’ +Yet it was so, and I myself went in the second ship, and not only saw them +together, but more than once shared their banquets and their conversation. +It was giving and taking, forcing down and elevating, a succession of +discords, not unpleasant to hear, because experience taught that they +would finally terminate in the most beautiful harmony. It was a festal day +for all the senses.” +</p> +<p> +“I imagine the whole Nile journey,” interrupted Barine, “to be like the +fairy voyage, when the purple silk sails of Cleopatra’s galley bore Antony +along the Cydnus.” +</p> +<p> +“No, no,” replied Archibius, “she first learned from Antony the art of +filling this earthly existence with fleeting pleasures. Cæsar demanded +more. Her intellect offered him the highest enjoyment.” +</p> +<p> +Here he hesitated. +</p> +<p> +“True, the skill with which, to please Antony, she daily offered him for +years fresh charms for every sense, was not a matter of accident.” +</p> +<p> +“And this,” cried Barine, “this was undertaken by the woman who had +recognized the chief good in peace of mind!” +</p> +<p> +“Ay,” replied Archibius thoughtfully, “yet this was the inevitable result. +Pleasure had been the young girl’s object in life. Ere passion awoke in +her soul, peace of mind was the chief good she knew. When the hour arrived +that this proved unattainable, the firmly rooted yearning for happiness +still remained the purpose of her existence. My father would have been +wiser to take her to the Stoa and impress it upon her that, if life must +have a goal, it should be only to live in accordance with the sensibly +arranged course of the world, and in harmony with one’s own nature. He +should have taught her to derive happiness from virtue. He should have +stamped goodness upon the soul of the future Queen as the fundamental law +of her being. He omitted to do this, because in his secluded life he had +succeeded in finding the happiness which the master promises to his +disciples. From Athens to Cyrene, from Epicurus to Aristippus, is but a +short step, and Cleopatra took it when she forgot that the master was far +from recognizing the chief good in the enjoyment of individual pleasure. +The happiness of Epicurus was not inferior to that of Zeus, if he had only +barley bread and water to appease his hunger and thirst. +</p> +<p> +“Yet she still considered herself a follower of Epicurus, and later, when +Antony had gone to the Parthian war, and she was a long time alone, she +once more began to strive for freedom from pain and peace of mind, but the +state, her children, the marriage of Antony—who had long been her +lover—to Octavia, the yearning of her own heart, Anubis, magic, and +the Egyptian teachings of the life after death, above all, the burning +ambition, the unresting desire to be loved, where she herself loved, to be +first among the foremost——” +</p> +<p> +Here he was interrupted by the messenger, who informed him that the ship +was ready. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch07"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER VII. +</h3> + +<p> +Archibius had buried himself so deeply in the past that it was several +minutes ere he could bring himself back to the present. When he did so, he +hastily discussed with the two ladies the date of their departure. +</p> +<p> +It was hard for Berenike to leave her injured brother, and Barine longed +to see Dion once more before the journey. Both were reluctant to quit +Alexandria ere decisive news had arrived from the army and the fleet. So +they requested a few days’ delay; but Archibius cut them short, requiring +them, with a resolution which transformed the amiable friend into a stern +master, to be ready for the journey the next day at sunset. His Nile boat +would await them at the Agathodæmon harbour on Lake Mareotis, and his +travelling chariot would convey them thither, with as much luggage and as +many female slaves as they desired to take with them. Then softening his +tone, he briefly reminded the ladies of the great annoyances to which a +longer stay would expose them, excused his rigour on the plea of haste, +pressed the hands of the mother and daughter, and retired without heeding +Barine, who called after him, yet could desire nothing save to plead for a +longer delay. The carriage bore him swiftly to the great harbour. +</p> +<p> +The waxing moon was mirrored like a silver column, now wavering and +tremulous, now rent by the waves tossing under a strong southeast wind, +and illumined the warm autumn night. The sea outside was evidently running +high. This was apparent by the motion of the vessels lying at anchor in +the angle which the shore in front of the superb Temple of Poseidon formed +with the Choma. This was a tongue of land stretched like a finger into the +sea, on whose point stood a little palace which Cleopatra, incited by a +chance remark of Antony, had had built there to surprise him. +</p> +<p> +Another, of white marble, glimmered in the moonlight from the island of +Antirrhodus; and farther still a blazing fire illumined the darkness. Its +flames flared from the top of the famous lighthouse on the island of +Pharos at the entrance of the harbour, and, swayed to and fro by the wind, +steeped the horizon and the outer edge of the dark water in the harbour +with moving masses of light which irradiated the gloomy distance, +sometimes faintly, anon more brilliantly. +</p> +<p> +Spite of the late hour, the harbour was full of bustle, though the wind +often blew the men’s cloaks over their heads, and the women were obliged +to gather their garments closely around them. True, at this hour commerce +had ceased; but many had gone to the port in search of news, or even to +greet before others the first ship returning from the victorious fleet; +for that Antony had defeated Octavianus in a great battle was deemed +certain. +</p> +<p> +Guards were watching the harbour, and a band of Syrian horsemen had just +passed from the barracks in the southern part of the Lochias to the Temple +of Poseidon. +</p> +<p> +Here the galleys lay at anchor, not in the harbour of Eunostus, which was +separated from the other by the broad, bridge-like dam of the +Heptastadium, that united the city and the island of Pharos. Near it were +the royal palaces and the arsenal, and any tidings must first reach this +spot. The other harbour was devoted to commerce, but, in order to prevent +the spread of false reports, newly arrived ships were forbidden to enter. +</p> +<p> +True, even at the great harbour, news could scarcely be expected, for a +chain stretching from the end of the Pharos to a cliff directly opposite +in the Alveus Steganus, closed the narrow opening. But it could be raised +if a state galley arrived with an important message, and this was expected +by the throng on the shore. +</p> +<p> +Doubtless many came from banquets, cookshops, taverns, or the nocturnal +meeting-places of the sects that practised the magic arts, yet the weight +of anxious expectation seemed to check the joyous activity, and wherever +Archibius glanced he beheld eager, troubled faces. The wind forced many to +bow their heads, and, wherever they turned their eyes, flags and clouds of +dust were fluttering in the air, increasing the confusion. +</p> +<p> +As the galley put off from the shore, and the flutes summoned the oarsmen +to their toil, its owner felt so disheartened that he did not even venture +to hope that he was going in quest of good tidings. +</p> +<p> +Long-vanished days had, as it were, been called from the grave, and many a +scene from the past rose before him as he lay among the cushions on the +poop, gazing at the sky, across which dark, swiftly sailing clouds +sometimes veiled the stars and again revealed them. +</p> +<p> +“How much we can conceal by words without being guilty of falsehood!” he +murmured, while recalling what he had told the women. +</p> +<p> +Ay, he had been Cleopatra’s confidant in his early youth, but how he had +loved her, how, even as a boy, he had been subject to her, body and soul! +He had allowed her to see it, displayed, confessed it; and she had +accepted it as her rightful due. She had repelled with angry pride his +only attempt to clasp her, in his overflowing affection, in his arms; but +to show his love for her is a crime for which the loftiest woman pardons +the humblest suitor, and a few hours later Cleopatra had met him with the +old affectionate familiarity. +</p> +<p> +Again he recalled the torments which he had endured when compelled to +witness how completely she yielded to the passion which drew her to +Antony. At that time the Roman had merely swept through her life like a +swiftly passing meteor, but many things betrayed that she did not forget +him; and while Archibius had seen without pain her love for the great +Cæsar bud and grow, the torturing feeling of jealousy again stirred in +his heart, though youth was past, when at Tarsus, on the river Cydnus, she +renewed the bond which still united her to Antony. +</p> +<p> +Now his hair had grown grey, and though nothing had clouded his friendship +for the Queen, though he had always been ready to serve her, this foolish +feeling had not been banished, and again and again mastered his whole +being. He by no means undervalued Antony’s attractions; but he saw his +foibles no less clearly. All in all, whenever he thought of this pair, he +felt like the lover of art who entrusts the finest gem in his collection +to a rich man who knows not how to prize its real value, and puts it in +the wrong place. +</p> +<p> +Yet he wished the Roman the most brilliant victory; for his defeat would +have been Cleopatra’s also, and would she endure the consequences of such +a disaster? +</p> +<p> +The galley was approaching the flickering circle of light at the foot of +the Pharos, and Archibius was just producing the token which was to secure +the lifting of the chain, when his name echoed through the stillness of +the night. +</p> +<p> +It was Dion hailing him from a boat tossing near the mouth of the harbour +on the waves surging in from the turbulent sea. He had recognized +Archibius’s swift galley from the bust of Epicurus which was illumined by +the light of the lantern in the prow. Cleopatra had had it placed upon the +ship which, by her orders, had been built for her friend. +</p> +<p> +Dion now desired to join him, and was soon standing on the deck at his +side. He had landed on the island of Pharos, and entered a sailors’ tavern +to learn what was passing. But no one could give him any definite +information, for the wind was blowing from the land and allowed large +vessels to approach the Egyptian coast only by the aid of oars. Shortly +before the breeze had veered from south to southeast, and an experienced +Rhodian would “never again lift cup of wine to his lips” if it did not +blow from the north to-morrow or the day after. Then ships bearing news +might reach Alexandria by the dozen—that is, the greybeard added +with a defiant glance at the daintily clad city gentleman—if they +were allowed to pass the Pharos or go through the Poseidon basin into the +Eunostus. He had fancied that he saw sails on the horizon at sunset, but +the swiftest galley became a hedgehog when the wind blew against its prow, +and even checked the oars. +</p> +<p> +Others, too, had fancied that they had seen sails, and Dion would gladly +have gone out to sea to investigate, but he was entirely alone in a frail +hired boat, and this would not have been permitted to pass beyond the +harbour. The expectation that every road would be open to Archibius had +not deceived him, and the harbour chain was drawn aside for the Epicurus. +With swelling sails, urged by the strong wind blowing from the southeast, +its keel cut the rolling waves. +</p> +<p> +Soon a faint, tremulous light appeared in the north. It must be a ship; +and though the helmsman in the tavern at Pharos, who looked as though he +had not always steered peaceful trading-vessels, had spoken of some which +did not let the ships they caught pass unscathed, the men on the +well-equipped, stately Epicurus did not fear pirates, especially as +morning was close at hand, and it had just shot by two clumsy men-of-war +which had been sent out by the Regent. +</p> +<p> +The strong wind filled every sail, rowing would have been useless labour, +and the light in front seemed to be coming nearer. +</p> +<p> +A wan glimmer was already beginning to brighten the distant east when the +Epicurus approached the vessel with the light, but it seemed to wish to +avoid the Alexandrian, and turned suddenly towards the northeast. +</p> +<p> +Archibius and Dion now discussed whether it would be worth while to pursue +the fugitive. It was a small ship, which, as the dark masses of clouds +became bordered with golden edges, grew more distinct and appeared to be a +Cilician pirate of the smallest size. +</p> +<p> +As to its crew, the tried sailors on the Epicurus, a much larger vessel, +which lacked no means of defence, showed no signs of alarm, the helmsman +especially, who had served in the fleet of Sextus Pompey, and had sprung +upon the deck of many a pirate ship. +</p> +<p> +Archibius deemed it foolish to commence a conflict unnecessarily. But Dion +was in the mood to brave every peril. +</p> +<p> +If life and death were at stake, so much the better! +</p> +<p> +He had informed his friend of Iras’s fears. +</p> +<p> +The fleet must be in a critical situation, and if the little Cilician had +had nothing to conceal she would not have shunned the Epicurus. +</p> +<p> +It was worth while to learn what had induced her to turn back just before +reaching the harbour. +</p> +<p> +The warlike helmsman also desired to give chase, and Archibius yielded, +for the uncertainty was becoming more and more unbearable. Dion’s +soul was deeply burdened too. He could not banish Barine’s image; +and since Archibius had told him that he had found her resolved to shut +her house against guests, and how willingly she had accepted his +invitation to the country, again and again he pondered over the question +what should prevent his marrying the quiet daughter of a distinguished +artist, whom he loved? +</p> +<p> +Archibius had remarked that Barine would be glad to greet her most +intimate friends—among whom he was included—in her quiet +country home. +</p> +<p> +Dion did not doubt this, but he was equally sure that the greeting would +bind him to her and rub him of his liberty, perhaps forever. But would the +Alexandrian possess the lofty gift of freedom, if the Romans ruled his +city as they governed Carthage or Corinth? If Cleopatra were defeated, and +Egypt became a Roman province, a share in the business of the council, +which was still addressed as “Macedonian men,” and which was dear to Dion, +could offer nothing but humiliation, and no longer afford satisfaction. +</p> +<p> +If a pirate’s spear put an end to bondage under the Roman yoke and to this +unworthy yearning and wavering, so much the better! +</p> +<p> +On this autumn morning, under this grey sky, from which sank a damp, light +fog, with these hopes and fears in his heart, he beheld in both the +present and future naught save shadows. +</p> +<p> +The Epicurus overtook and captured the fugitive. The slight resistance the +vessel might have offered was relinquished when Archibius’s helmsman +shouted that the Epicurus did not belong to the royal navy, and had come +in search of news. +</p> +<p> +The Cilician took in his oars; Archibius and Dion entered the vessel and +questioned the commander. +</p> +<p> +He was an old, weather-beaten seaman, who would give no information until +after he had learned what his pursuers really desired. +</p> +<p> +At first he protested that he had witnessed on the Peloponnesian coast a +great victory gained by the Egyptian galleys over those commanded by +Octavianus; but the queries of the two friends involved him in +contradictions, and he then pretended to know nothing, and to have spoken +of a victory merely to please the Alexandrian gentlemen. +</p> +<p> +Dion, accompanied by a few men from the crew of the Epicurus, searched the +ship, and found in the little cabin a man bound and gagged, guarded by one +of the pirates. +</p> +<p> +It was a sailor from the Pontus, who spoke only his native language. +Nothing intelligible could be obtained from him; but there were important +suggestions in a letter, found in a chest in the cabin, among clothing, +jewels, and other stolen articles. +</p> +<p> +The letter—Dion could scarcely believe his own eyes—was addressed to his +friend, the architect Gorgias. The pirate, being ignorant of writing, had +not opened it, but Dion tore the wax from the cord without delay. +Aristocrates, the Greek rhetorician, who had accompanied Antony to the +war, had written from Tænarum, in the south of the Peloponnesus, +requesting the architect, in the general’s name, to set the little palace +at the end of the Choma in order, and surround it on the land side with a +high wall. +</p> +<p> +No door would be necessary. Communication with the dwelling could be had +by water. He must do his utmost to complete the work speedily. +</p> +<p> +The friends gazed at each other in astonishment, as they read this +commission. +</p> +<p> +What could induce Antony to give so strange an order? How did it fall into +the hands of the pirates? +</p> +<p> +This must be understood. +</p> +<p> +When Archibius, whose gentle nature, so well adapted to inspire +confidence, quickly won friends, burst into passionate excitement, the +unexpected transition rarely failed to produce its effect, especially as +his tall, strong figure and marked features made a still more threatening +impression. +</p> +<p> +Even the captain gazed at him with fear, when the Alexandrian threatened +to recall all his promises of consideration and mercy if the pirate +withheld even the smallest trifle connected with this letter. The man +speedily perceived that it would be useless to make false statements; for +the captive from Pontus, though unable to speak Greek, understood the +language, and either confirmed every remark of the other with vehement +gestures, or branded it in the same manner as false. +</p> +<p> +Thus it was discovered that the pirate craft, in company with a much +larger vessel, owned by a companion, had lurked behind the promontory of +Crete for a prize. They had neither seen nor heard aught concerning the +two fleets, when a dainty galley, “the finest and fleetest that ever +sailed in the sea”—it was probably the “Swallow,” Antony’s +despatch-boat—had run into the snare. To capture her was an easy task. The +pirates had divided their booty, but the lion’s share of goods and men had +fallen to the larger ship. +</p> +<p> +A pouch containing letters and money had been taken from a gentleman of +aristocratic appearance—probably Antony’s messenger—who had +received a severe wound, died, and had been flung into the sea. The former +had been used to light the fire, and only the one addressed to the +architect remained. +</p> +<p> +The captured sailors had said that the fleet of Octavianus had defeated +Cleopatra’s, and the Queen had fled, but that the land forces were still +untouched, and might yet decide the conflict in Antony’s favour. The +pirate protested that he did not know the position of the army—it +might be at Tænarum, whence the captured ship came. It was a sin and a +shame, but his own crew had set it on fire, and it sank before his eyes. +</p> +<p> +This report seemed to be true, yet the Acharnanian coast, where the battle +was said to have been fought, was so far from the southern point of the +Peloponnesus, whence Antony’s letter came, that it must have been written +during the flight. +</p> +<p> +One thing appeared to be certain—the fleet had been vanquished +and dispersed on the 2d or 3d of September. +</p> +<p> +Where would the Queen go now? What had become of the magnificent galleys +which had accompanied her to the battle? +</p> +<p> +Even the contrary winds would not have detained them so long, for they +were abundantly supplied with rowers. +</p> +<p> +Had Octavianus taken possession of them? +</p> +<p> +Were they burned or sunk? +</p> +<p> +But in that case how had Antony reached Tænarum? +</p> +<p> +The pirate could give no answer to these questions, which stirred both +heart and brain. Why should he conceal what had reached his ears? +</p> +<p> +At last Archibius ordered the property stolen from Antony’s ship, and the +liberated sailor to be brought on board the Epicurus, but the pirate was +obliged to swear not to remain in the waters between Crete and Alexandria. +Then he was suffered to pursue his way unmolested. +</p> +<p> +This adventure had occupied many hours, and the return against the wind +was slow; for, during the chase the Epicurus had been carried by the +strong breeze far out to sea. Yet, when still several miles from the mouth +of the harbour at the Pharos, it was evident that the Rhodian helmsman in +the island tavern had predicted truly; for the weather changed with +unusual speed, and the wind now blew from the north. The sea fairly +swarmed with ships, some belonging to the royal fleet, some to curious +Alexandrians, who had sailed out to take a survey. Archibius and Dion had +spent a sleepless night and day. The heavy air, pervaded by a fine mist, +had grown cool. After refreshing themselves by a repast, they paced up and +down the deck of the Epicurus. +</p> +<p> +Few words were exchanged, and they wrapped their cloaks closer around +them. Both had quaffed large draughts of the fiery wine with which the +Epicurus was well supplied, but it would not warm them. Even the fire, +blazing brightly in the richly furnished cabin, could scarcely do so. +</p> +<p> +Archibius’s thoughts lingered with his beloved Queen, and his vivid power +of imagination conjured before his mind everything which could distress +her. No possible chance, not even the most terrible, was forgotten, and +when he saw her sinking in the ship, stretching her beautiful arms +imploringly towards him, to whom she had so long turned in every perilous +position, when he beheld her a captive in the presence of the hostile, +cold-hearted Octavianus, the blood seemed to freeze in his veins. At last +he dropped his felt mantle and, groaning aloud, struck his brow with his +clenched hand. He had fancied her walking with gold chains on her slender +wrists before the victor’s four-horse chariot, and heard the exulting +shouts of the Roman populace. +</p> +<p> +That would have been the most terrible of all. +</p> +<p> +To pursue this train of thought was beyond the endurance of the faithful +friend, and Dion turned in surprise as he heard him sob and saw the tears +which bedewed his face. +</p> +<p> +His own heart was heavy enough, but he knew his companion’s warm devotion +to the Queen; so, passing his arm around his shoulder, he entreated him to +maintain that peace of soul and mind which he had so often admired. In the +most critical situations he had seen him stand high above them, as yonder +man who fed the flames on the summit of the Pharos stood above the wild +surges of the sea. If he would reflect over what had happened as +dispassionately as usual, he could not fail to see that Antony must be +free and in a position to guide his own future, since he directed the +palace in the Choma to be put in order. He did not understand about the +wall, but perhaps he was bringing home some distinguished captive whom he +wished to debar from all communication with the city. It might prove that +everything was far better than they feared, and they would yet smile at +these grievous anxieties. His heart, too, was heavy, for he wished the +Queen the best fortune, not only for her own sake, but because with her +and her successful resistance to the greed of Rome was connected the +liberty of Alexandria. +</p> +<p> +“My love and anxiety, like yours,” he concluded, “have ever been given to +her, the sovereign of this country. The world will be desolate, life will +no longer be worth living, if the iron foot of Rome crushes our +independence and freedom.” +</p> +<p> +The words had sounded cordial and sincere, and Archibius followed Dion’s +counsel. Calm thought convinced him that nothing had yet happened which +compelled belief in the worst result; and, as one who needs consolation +often finds relief in comforting another, Archibius cheered his own +heart by representing to his younger friend that, even if Octavianus were +the victor and should deprive Egypt of her independence, he would scarcely +venture to take from the citizens of Alexandria the free control of their +own affairs. Then he explained to Dion that, as a young, resolute, +independent man, he might render himself doubly useful if it were +necessary to guard the endangered liberty of the city, and told him how +many beautiful things life still held in store. +</p> +<p> +His voice expressed anxious tenderness for his young friend. No one had +spoken thus to Dion since his father’s death. +</p> +<p> +The Epicurus would soon reach the mouth of the harbour, and after landing +he must again leave Archibius. +</p> +<p> +The decisive hour which often unites earnest men more firmly than many +previous years had come to both. They had opened their hearts to each +other. Dion had withheld only the one thing which, at the first sight of +the houses in the city, filled his soul with fresh uneasiness. +</p> +<p> +It was long since he had sought counsel from others. Many who had asked +his, had left him with thanks, to do exactly the opposite of what he had +advised, though it would have been to their advantage. More than once he, +too, had done the same, but now a powerful impulse urged him to confide in +Archibius. He knew Barine, and wished her the greatest happiness. Perhaps +it would be wise to let another person, who was kindly disposed, consider +what his own heart so eagerly demanded and prudence forbade. +</p> +<p> +Hastily forming his resolution, he again turned to his friend, saying: +</p> +<p> +“You have shown yourself a father to me. Imagine that I am indeed your +son, and, as such wished to confess that a woman had become dear to my +heart, and to ask whether you would be glad to greet her as a daughter.” +</p> +<p> +Here Archibius interrupted him with the exclamation: “A ray of light amid +all this gloom? Grasp what you have too long neglected as soon as +possible! It befits a good citizen to marry. The Greek does not attain +full manhood till he becomes husband and father. If I have remained +unwedded, there was a special reason for it, and how often I have envied +the cobbler whom I saw standing before his shop in the evening, holding +his child in his arms, or the pilot, to whom large and small hands were +stretched in greeting when he returned home! When I enter my dwelling only +my dogs rejoice. But you, whose beautiful palace stands empty, to whose +proud family it is due that you should provide for its continuance——” +</p> +<p> +“That is just what brings me into a state of indecision, which is usually +foreign to my nature,” interrupted Dion. “You know me and my position in +the world, and you have also known from her earliest childhood the woman +to whom I allude.” +</p> +<p> +“Iras?” asked his companion, hesitatingly. His sister, Charmian, had told +him of the love felt by the Queen’s younger waiting-woman. +</p> +<p> +But Dion eagerly denied this, adding: “I am speaking of Barine, the daughter +of your dead friend Leonax. I love her, yet my pride is sensitive, and I +know that it will extend to my future wife. The contemptuous glances which +others might cast at her I should scorn, for I know her worth. Surely you +remember my mother: she was a very different woman. Her house, her child, +the slaves, her loom, were everything to her. She rigidly exacted from +other women the chaste reserve which was a marked trait in her own +character. Yet she was gentle, and loved me, her only son, beyond aught +else. I think she would have opened her arms to Barine, had she believed +that she was necessary to my happiness. But would the young beauty, +accustomed to gay intercourse with distinguished men, have been able to +submit to her demands? When I consider that she cannot help taking into +her married life the habit of being surrounded and courted; when I think +that the imprudence of a woman accustomed to perfect freedom might set +idle tongues in motion, and cast a shadow upon the radiant purity of my +name; when I even—” and he raised his clenched right hand. But +Archibius answered soothingly: +</p> +<p> +“That anxiety is groundless if Barine warmly and joyfully gives you her +whole heart. It is a sunny, lovable, true woman’s heart, and therefore +capable of a great love. If she bestows it on you—and I believe she +will—go and offer sacrifices in your gratitude; for the immortals +desired your happiness when they guided your choice to her and not to +Iras, my own sister’s child. If you were really my son, I would now +exclaim, ‘You could not bring me a dearer daughter, if—I repeat it—if +you are sure of her love.’ ” +</p> +<p> +Dion gazed into vacancy a short time, and then cried firmly: +</p> +<p> +“I am!” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch08"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER VIII. +</h3> + +<p> +The Epicurus anchored before the Temple of Poseidon. The crew had been +ordered to keep silence, though they knew nothing, except that a letter +from Antony, commanding the erection of a wall, had been found on board +the pirate. This might be regarded as a good omen, for people do not think +of building unless they anticipate a time of peace. +</p> +<p> +The light rain had ceased, but the wind blew more strongly from the north, +and the air had grown cool. A dense throng still covered the quay from the +southern end of the Heptastadium to the promontory of Lochias. The +strongest pressure was between the peninsula of the Choma and the +Sebasteum; for this afforded a view of the sea, and the first tidings must +reach the residence of the Regent, which was connected with the palace. +</p> +<p> +A hundred contradictory rumours had been in circulation that morning; and +when, at the third hour in the afternoon, the Epicurus arrived, it was +surrounded by a dense multitude eager to hear what news the ship had +brought from without. Other vessels shared the same fate, but none could +give reliable tidings. +</p> +<p> +Two swift galleys from the royal fleet reported meeting a Samian trireme, +which had given news of a great victory gained by Antony on the land and +Cleopatra on the sea, and, as men are most ready to believe what they +desire, throngs of exulting men and women moved to and fro along the +shore, strengthening by their confidence many a timorous spirit. Prudent +people, who had regarded the long delay of the first ships of the fleet +with anxiety, had opened their ears to the tales of evil, and looked +forward to the future with uneasiness. But they avoided giving expression +to their fears, for the overseer of an establishment for gold embroidery, +who had ventured to warn the people against premature rejoicing, had +limped home badly beaten, and two other pessimists who had been flung in +the sea had just been dragged out dripping wet. +</p> +<p> +Nor could the multitude be blamed for this confidence; for at the +Serapeum, the theatre of Dionysus, the lofty pylons of the Sebasteum, the +main door of the museum, in front of the entrance of the palace in the +Bruchium, and before the fortress-like palaces in the Lochias, triumphal +arches had been erected, adorned with gods of victory and trophies hastily +constructed of plaster, inscriptions of congratulations and thanks to the +deities, garlands of foliage and flowers. The wreathing of the Egyptian +pylons and obelisks, the principal temple, and the favourite statues in +the city had been commenced during the night. The last touches were now +being given to the work. +</p> +<p> +Gorgias, like his friend Dion, had not closed his eyes since the night +before; for he had had charge of all the decorations of the Bruchium, +where one superb building adjoined another. +</p> +<p> +Sleep had also fled from the couches of the occupants of the Sebasteum, +the royal palace where Iras lived during the absence of the Queen, and the +prætorium, facing its southern front, which contained the official +residence of the Regent. +</p> +<p> +When Archibius was conducted to the Queen’s waiting-woman, her appearance +fairly startled him. She had been his guest in Kanopus only the day before +yesterday, and how great was the alteration within this brief time! Her +oval face seemed to have lengthened, the features to have grown sharper; +and this woman of seven-and-twenty years, who had hitherto retained all +the charms of youth, appeared suddenly to have aged a decade. There was a +feverish excitement in her manner, as, holding out her hand to her uncle, +in greeting, she exclaimed hastily, “You, too, bring no good tidings?” +</p> +<p> +“Nor any evil ones,” he answered quietly. “But, child, I do not like your +appearance—the dark circles under your keen eyes. You have had news +which rouses your anxiety?” +</p> +<p> +“Worse than that,” she answered in a low tone. +</p> +<p> +“Well?” +</p> +<p> +“Read!” gasped Iras, her lips and nostrils quivering as she handed +Archibius a small tablet. +</p> +<p> +With a gesture of haste very unusual in him, he snatched it from her hand +and, as his eyes ran over the words traced upon it, every vestige of +colour vanished from his cheeks and lips. +</p> +<p> +They were written by Cleopatra’s own hand, and contained the following +lines: +</p> +<p> +“The naval battle was lost—and by my fault. The land forces might +still save us, but not under his command. He is with me, uninjured, but +apparently exhausted; like a different being, bereft of courage, listless +as if utterly crushed. I foresee the beginning of the end. As soon as this +reaches you, arrange to have some unpretending litters ready for us every +evening at sunset. Make the people believe that we have conquered until +trustworthy intelligence arrives concerning the fate of Canidius and the +army. When you kiss the children in my name, be very tender with them. Who +knows how soon they may be orphaned? They already have an unhappy mother; +may they be spared the memory of a cowardly one! Trust no one except those +whom I left in authority, and Archibius, not even Cæsarion or Antyllus. +Provide for having every one whose aid may be valuable to me within reach +when I come. I cannot close with the familiar ‘Rejoice’—the ‘Fresh +Courage’ placed on many a tombstone seems more appropriate. You who did +not envy me in my happiness will help me to bear misfortune. Epicurus, who +believes that the gods merely watch the destiny of men inactively from +their blissful heights, is right. Were it otherwise, how could the love +and loyalty which cleave to the hapless, defeated woman, be repaid with +anguish of heart and tears? Yet—continue to love her.” +</p> +<p> +Archibius, pale and silent, let the tablet fall. It was long ere he gasped +hoarsely: “I foresaw it; yet now that it is here—” His voice failed, +and violent, tearless sobs shook his powerful frame. +</p> +<p> +Sinking on a couch he buried his face amid the cushions. +</p> +<p> +Iras gazed at the strong man and shook her head. +</p> +<p> +She, too, loved the Queen; the news had brought tears to her eyes also; +but even while she wept, a host of plans coping with this disaster had +darted through her restless brain. A few minutes after the arrival of the +message of misfortune she had consulted with the members of Cleopatra’s +council, and adopted measures for sustaining the people’s belief in +the naval victory. +</p> +<p> +What was she, the delicate, by no means courageous girl, compared to this +man of iron strength who, she was well aware, had braved the greatest +perils in the service of the Queen? Yet there he lay with his face hidden +in the pillows as if utterly overwhelmed. +</p> +<p> +Did a woman’s soul rebound more quickly after being crushed beneath the +burdens of the heaviest suffering, or was hers of a special character, and +her slender body the casket of a hero’s nature? +</p> +<p> +She had reason to believe so when she recalled how the Regent and the +Keeper of the Seal had received the terrible news. They had rushed +frantically up and down the vast hall as if desperate; but Mardion the +eunuch had little manhood, and Zeno was a characterless old author who had +won the Queen’s esteem, and the high office which he occupied solely by +the vivid power of imagination, that enabled him constantly to devise new +exhibitions, amusements, and entertainments, and present them with magical +splendour. +</p> +<p> +But Archibius, the brave, circumspect counsellor and helper? +</p> +<p> +His shoulders again quivered as if they had received a blow, and Iras +suddenly remembered what she had long known, but never fully realized—that +yonder grey-haired man loved Cleopatra, loved her as she herself loved +Dion; and she wondered whether she would have been strong enough to +maintain her composure if she had learned that a cruel fate threatened to +rob him of life, liberty, and honour. +</p> +<p> +Hour after hour she had vainly awaited the young Alexandrian, yet he had +witnessed her anxiety the day before. Had she offended him? Was he +detained by the spell of Didymus’s granddaughter? +</p> +<p> +It seemed a great wrong that, amid the unspeakably terrible misfortune +which had overtaken her mistress, she could not refrain from thinking +continually of Dion. Even as his image filled her heart, Cleopatra’s ruled +her uncle’s mind and soul, and she said to herself that it was not alone +among women that love paid no heed to years, or whether the locks were +brown or tinged with grey. +</p> +<p> +But Archibius now raised himself, left the couch, passed his hand across +his brow, and in the deep, calm tones natural to his voice, began with a +sorrowful smile: “A man stricken by an arrow leaves the fray to have his +wound bandaged. The surgeon has now finished his task. I ought to have +spared you this pitiable spectacle, child. But I am again ready for the +battle. Cleopatra’s account of Antony’s condition renders a piece of news +which we have just received somewhat more intelligible.” +</p> +<p> +“We?” replied Iras. “Who was your companion?” +</p> +<p> +“Dion,” answered Archibius; but when he was about to describe the +incidents of the preceding night, she interrupted him with the question +whether Barine had consented to leave the city. He assented with a curt +“Yes,” but Iras assumed the manner of having expected nothing different, +and requested him to continue his story. +</p> +<p> +Archibius now related everything which they had experienced, and their +discovery in the pirate ship. Dion was even now on the way to carry +Antony’s order to his friend Gorgias. +</p> +<p> +“Any slave might have attended to that matter equally well,” Iras remarked +in an irritated tone. “I should think he would have more reason to expect +trustworthy tidings here. But that’s the way with men!” +</p> +<p> +Here she hesitated but, meeting an inquiring glance from her uncle, she +went on eagerly; “Nothing, I believe, binds them more firmly to one +another than mutual pleasure. But that must now be over. They will seek +other amusements, whether with Heliodora or Thais I care not. If the woman +had only gone before! When she caught young Cæsarion——” +</p> +<p> +“Stay, child,” her uncle interrupted reprovingly. “I know how much she +would rejoice if Antyllus had never brought the boy to her house.” +</p> +<p> +“Now—because the poor deluded lad’s infatuation alarms her.” +</p> +<p> +“No, from his first visit. Immature boys do not suit the distinguished men +whom she receives.” +</p> +<p> +“If the door is always kept open, thieves will enter the house.” +</p> +<p> +“She received only old acquaintances, and the friends whom they presented. +Her house was closed to all others. So there was no trouble with thieves. +But who in Alexandria could venture to refuse admittance to a son of the +Queen?” +</p> +<p> +“There is a wide difference between quiet admittance and fanning a passion +to madness. Wherever a fire is burning, there has certainly been a spark +to kindle it. You men do not detect such women’s work. A glance, a +pressure of the hand, even the light touch of a garment, and the flame +blazes, where such inflammable material lies ready.” +</p> +<p> +“We lament the violence of the conflagration. You are not well disposed +towards Barine.” +</p> +<p> +“I care no more for her than this couch here cares for the statue of +Mercury in the street!” exclaimed Iras, with repellent arrogance. “There +could be no two things in the world more utterly alien than we. Between +the woman whose door stands open, and me, there is nothing in common save +our sex.” +</p> +<p> +“And,” replied Archibius reprovingly, “many a beautiful gift which the +gods bestowed upon her as well as upon you. As for the open door, it was +closed yesterday. The thieves of whom you spoke spoiled her pleasure in +granting hospitality. Antyllus forced himself with noisy impetuosity into +her house. This made her dread still more unprecedented conduct in the +future. In a few hours she will be on the way to Irenia. I am glad for +Cæsarion’s sake, and still more for his mother’s, whom we have wronged by +forgetting so long for another.” +</p> +<p> +“To think that we should be forced to do so!” cried Iras excitedly—“now, +at this hour, when every drop of blood, every thought of this poor brain +should belong to the Queen! Yet it could not be avoided. Cleopatra is +returning to us with a heart bleeding from a hundred wounds, and it is +terrible to think that a new arrow must strike her as soon as she steps +upon her native soil. You know how she loves the boy, who is the living +image of the great man with whom she shared the highest joys of love. When +she learns that he, the son of Cæsar, has given his young heart to the +cast-off wife of a street orator, a woman whose home attracted men as ripe +dates lure birds, it will be—I know—like rubbing salt into her +fresh wounds. Alas! and the <i>one</i> sorrow will not be all. Antony, her +husband, also found the way to Barine. He sought her more than once. You +cannot know it as I do; but Charmian will tell you how sensitive she has +become since the flower of her youthful charms—you don’t perceive it—is +losing one leaf after another. Jealousy will torture her, and—I know +her well—perhaps no one will ever render the siren a greater service +than I did when I compelled her to leave the city.” +</p> +<p> +The eyes of Archibius’s clever niece had glittered with such hostile +feeling as she spoke that he thought with just anxiety of his dead +friend’s daughter. What did not yet threaten Barine as serious danger Iras +had the power to transform into grave peril. +</p> +<p> +Dion had begged him to maintain strict secrecy; but even had he been +permitted to speak, he would not have done so now. From his knowledge of +Iras’s character she might be expected, if she learned that some one had +come between her and the friend of her youth, to shrink from no means of +spoiling her game. He remembered the noble Macedonian maiden whom the +Queen had begun to favour, and who was hunted to death by Iras’s hostile +intrigues. Few were more clever, and—if she once loved—more +loyal and devoted, more yielding, pliant, and in happy hours more +bewitching, yet even in childhood she had preferred a winding path to a +straight one. It seemed as if her shrewdness scorned to attain the end +desired by the simple method lying close at hand. How willingly his mother +and his younger sister Charmian had cared for the slaves and nursed them +when they were ill; nay, Charmian had gained in her Nubian maid Aniukis a +friend who would have gone to death for her sake! Cleopatra, too, when a +child, had found sincere delight in taking a bouquet to his parents’ sick +old housekeeper and sitting by her bedside to shorten the time for her +with merry talk. She had gone to her unasked, while Iras had often been +punished because she had made the lives of numerous slaves in her parents’ +household still harder by unreasonable harshness. This trait in her +character had roused her uncle’s anxiety and, in after-years, her +treatment of her inferiors had been such that he could not number her +among the excellent of her sex. Therefore he was the more joyfully +surprised by the loyal, unselfish love with which she devoted herself to +the service of the Queen. Cleopatra had gratified Charmian’s wish to have +her niece for an assistant; and Iras, who had never been a loving daughter +to her own faithful mother, had served her royal mistress with the utmost +tenderness. +</p> +<p> +Archibius valued this loyalty highly, but he knew what awaited any one who +became the object of her hatred, and the fear that it would involve Barine +in urgent peril was added to his still greater anxiety for Cleopatra. +</p> +<p> +When about to depart, burdened by the sorrowful conviction that he was +powerless against his niece’s malevolent purpose, he was detained by the +representation that every fresh piece of intelligence would first reach +the Sebasteum and her. Some question might easily arise which his calm, +prudent mind could decide far better than hers, whose troubled condition +resembled a shallow pool disturbed by stones flung into the waves. +</p> +<p> +The apartments of his sister Charmian, which were connected with his by a +corridor, were empty, and Iras begged him to remain there a short time. +The anxiety and dread that oppressed her heart would kill her. To know +that he was near would be the greatest comfort. +</p> +<p> +When Archibius hesitated because he deemed it his duty to urge Cæsarion, +over whom he possessed some influence, to give up his foolish wishes for +his mother’s sake, Iras assured him that he would not find the youth. He +had gone hunting with Antyllus and some other friends. She had approved +the plan, because it removed him from the city and Barine’s dangerous +house. +</p> +<p> +“As the Queen does not wish him to know the terrible news yet,” she +concluded, “his presence would only have caused us embarrassment. So stay, +and when it grows dark go with us to the Lochias. I think it will please +the sorrowing woman, when she lands, to see your familiar face, which will +remind her of happier days. Do me the favour to stay.” She held out both +hands beseechingly as she spoke, and Archibius consented. +</p> +<p> +A repast was served, and he shared it with his niece; but Iras did not +touch the carefully chosen viands, and Archibius barely tasted them. Then, +without waiting for dessert, he rose to go to his sister’s apartments. But +Iras urged him to rest on the divan in the adjoining room, and he yielded. +Yet, spite of the softness of the pillows and his great need of sleep, he +could not find it; anxiety kept him awake, and through the curtain which +divided the room in which Iras remained from the one he occupied he +sometimes heard her light footsteps pacing restlessly to and fro, +sometimes the coming and going of messengers in quest of news. +</p> +<p> +All his former life passed before his mind. Cleopatra had been his sun, +and now black clouds were rising which would dim its light, perchance +forever. He, the disciple of Epicurus, who had not followed the doctrines +of other masters until later in life, held the same view of the gods as +his first master. To him also they had seemed immortal beings sufficient +unto themselves, dwelling free from anxiety in blissful peace, to whom +mortals must look upward on account of their supreme grandeur, but who +neither troubled themselves about the guidance of the world, which was +fixed by eternal laws, nor the fate of individuals. Had he been convinced +of the contrary, he would have sacrificed everything he possessed in +order, by lavish offerings, to propitiate the immortals in behalf of her +to whom he had devoted his life and every faculty of his being. +</p> +<p> +Like Iras, he, too, could find no rest upon his couch, and when she heard +his step she called to him and asked why he did not recover the sleep +which he had lost. No one knew the demands the next night might make upon +him. +</p> +<p> +“You will find me awake,” he answered quietly. +</p> +<p> +Then he went to the window which, above the pylons that rose before the +main front of the Sebasteum, afforded a view of the Bruchium and the sea. +The harbour was now swarming with vessels of every size, garlanded with +flowers and adorned with gay flags and streamers. The report of the +successful issue of the first naval battle was believed, and many desired +to greet the victorious fleet and hail their sovereign as she entered the +harbour. +</p> +<p> +Many people, equipages, and litters had also gathered on the shore, +between the lofty pylons and the huge door of the Sebasteum. They were +representatives of the aristocracy of the city; for the majority were +attended by richly attired slaves. Many wore costly garlands, and numerous +chariots and litters were adorned with gold or silver ornaments, gems, and +glittering paste. The stir and movement in front of the palace were +ceaseless, and Iras, who was now standing beside her uncle, waved her hand +towards it, saying: “The wind of rumour! Yesterday only one or two came; +to-day every one who belongs to the ‘Inimitable Livers’ flocks hither in +person to get news. The victory was proclaimed in the market-place, at the +theatre, the gymnasium, and the camp. Every one who wears garlands or +weapons heard of a battle won. Yesterday, among all the thousands, there +was scarcely a single doubter; but to-day—how does it happen? Even among +those who as ‘Inimitables’ have shared all the pleasures, entertainments, +and festivities of our noble pair, faith wavers; for if they were firmly +convinced of the brilliant victory which was announced loudly enough, they +would not come themselves to watch, to spy, to listen. Just look down! +There is the litter of Diogenes—yonder that of Ammonius. The chariot +beyond belongs to Melampous. The slaves in the red bombyx garments serve +Hermias. They all belong to the society of ‘Inimitables,’ and shared +our banquets. That very Apollonius who, for the last half hour, has been +trying to question the palace servants, day before yesterday ordered fifty +oxen to be slaughtered to Ares, Nike, and the great Isis, as the Queen’s +goddess, and when I met him in the temple he exclaimed that this was the +greatest piece of extravagance he had ever committed; for even without the +cattle Cleopatra and Antony would be sure of victory. But now the wind of +rumour has swept away his beautiful confidence also. They are not +permitted to see me. The doorkeepers say that I am in the country. The +necessity of showing every one a face radiant with the joy of victory +would kill me. There comes Apollonius. How his fat face beams! He believes +in the victory, and after sunset none of yonder throng will appear here; +he is already giving orders to his slaves. He will invite all his friends +to a banquet, and won’t spare his costly wines. Capital! At least no one +from that company can disturb us. Dion is his cousin, and will be present +also. We shall see what these pleasure-lovers will do when they are forced +to confront, the terrible reality.” +</p> +<p> +“I think,” replied Archibius, “they will afford the world a remarkable +spectacle; friends won in prosperity who remain constant in adversity.” +</p> +<p> +“Do you?” asked Iras, with sparkling eyes. “If that proves true, how I +would praise and value men—the majority of whom without their wealth +would be poorer than beggars. But look at yonder figure in the white robe +beside the left obelisk—is it not Dion? The crowd is bearing him +away—I think it was he.” +</p> +<p> +But she had been deceived; the man whom she fancied she had seen, because +her heart so ardently yearned for him, was not near the Sebasteum, and his +thoughts were still farther away. +</p> +<p> +At first he had intended to give the architect the letter which was +addressed to him. He would be sure to find him at the triumphal arch which +was being erected on the shore of the Bruchium. But on reaching the former +place he learned that Gorgias had gone to remove the statues of Cleopatra +and Antony from the house of Didymus, and erect them in front of the +Theatre of Dionysus. The Regent, Mardion, had ordered it. Gorgias was +already superintending the erection of the foundation. +</p> +<p> +The huge hewn stones which he required for this purpose had been taken +from the Temple of Nemesis, which he was supervising. Whatever number of +government slaves he needed were at his disposal, so Gorgias’s foreman +reported, proudly adding that before the sun went down, the architect +would have shown the Alexandrians the marvel of removing the twin statues +from one place to another in a single day, and yet establishing them as +firmly as the Colossus which had been in Thebes a thousand years. +</p> +<p> +Dion found the piece of sculpture in front of Didymus’s garden, ready for +removal, but the slaves who had placed before the platform the rollers on +which it was to be moved had already been kept waiting a long time by the +architect. +</p> +<p> +This was his third visit to the old philosopher’s house. First, he had +been obliged to inform him and his family that their property was no +longer in danger; then he had come to tell them at what hour he would +remove the statues, which still attracted many curious spectators; and, +finally, he had again appeared, to announce that they were to be taken +away at once. His foreman or a slave could probably have done this, but +Helena—Didymus’s granddaughter, Barine’s sister—drew him again +and again to the old man’s home. He would gladly have come still more +frequently, for at every meeting he had discovered fresh charms in the +beautiful, quiet, thoughtful maiden, who cared so tenderly for her aged +grandparents. He believed that he loved her, and she seemed glad to +welcome him. But this did not entitle him to seek her hand, though his +large, empty house so greatly needed a mistress. His heart had glowed with +love for too many. He wished first to test whether this new fancy would +prove more lasting. If he succeeded in remaining faithful even a few days, +he would, as it were, reward himself for it, and appear before Didymus as +a suitor. +</p> +<p> +He excused his frequent visits to himself on the pretext of the necessity +of becoming acquainted with his future wife, and Helena made the task +easier for him. The usual reserve of her manner lessened more and more; +nay, the great confidence with which he at first inspired her was +increased by his active assistance. When he entered just now, she had even +held out her hand to him, and inquired about the progress of his work. +</p> +<p> +He was overwhelmed with business, but so great was his pleasure in talking +with her that he lingered longer than he would have deemed right under any +other circumstances, and regarded it as an unpleasant interruption when +Barine—for whom his heart had throbbed so warmly only yesterday—entered +the tablinum. +</p> +<p> +The young beauty was by no means content with a brief greeting; but drew +Helena entirely away from him. Never had he seen her embrace and kiss her +sister so passionately as while hurriedly telling her that she had come to +bid farewell to the loved ones in her grandparents’ house. +</p> +<p> +Berenike had arrived with her, but went first to the old couple. +</p> +<p> +While Barine was telling Helena and Gorgias, also, why all this plan had +been formed so hastily, Gorgias was silently comparing the two sisters. He +found it natural that he had once believed that he loved Barine; but she +would not have been a fitting mistress of his house. Life at her side +would have been a chain of jealous emotions and anxieties, and her +stimulating remarks and searching questions, which demanded absolute +attention, would not have permitted him, after his return home, wearied by +arduous toil, to find the rest for which he longed. His eye wandered from +her to her sister, as if testing the space between two newly erected +pillars; and Barine, who had noticed his strange manner, suddenly laughed +merrily, and asked whether they might know what building was occupying his +thoughts, while a good friend was telling him that the pleasant hours in +her house were over. +</p> +<p> +Gorgias started, and the apology he stammered showed so plainly how +inattentively he had listened, that Barine would have had good reason to +feel offended. But one glance at her sister and another at him enabled her +speedily to guess the truth. She was pleased; for she esteemed Gorgias, +and had secretly feared that she might be forced to grieve him by a +refusal, but he seemed as if created for her sister. Her arrival had +probably interrupted them so, turning to Helena, she exclaimed: “I must +see my mother and our grandparents. Meanwhile entertain our friend here. +We know each other well. He is one of the few men who can be trusted. That +is my honest opinion, Gorgias, and I say it to you also, Helena.” +</p> +<p> +With these words she nodded to both, and Gorgias was again alone with the +maiden whom he loved. +</p> +<p> +It was difficult to begin the conversation anew, and when, spite of many +efforts, it would not flow freely, the shout of the overseer, which +reached his ear through the opening of the roof, urging the men to work, +was like a deliverance. Promising to return again soon, as eagerly as if +he had been requested to do so, he took his leave and opened the door +leading into the adjoining room. But on the threshold he started back, and +Helena, who had followed him, did the same, for there stood his friend +Dion, and Barine’s beautiful head lay on his breast, while his hand rested +as if in benediction on her fair hair. And—no, Gorgias was not +mistaken—the slender frame of the lovely woman, whose exuberant vivacity +had so often borne him and others away with it, trembled as if shaken by +deep and painful emotion. +</p> +<p> +When Dion perceived his friend, and Barine raised her head, turning her +face towards him, it was indeed wet with tears, but their source could not +be sorrow; for her blue eyes were sparkling with a happy light. +</p> +<p> +Yet Gorgias found something in her features which he was unable to express +in words—the reflection of the ardent gratitude that had taken +possession of her soul and filled it absolutely. +</p> +<p> +While seeking the architect, Dion had met Barine, who was on her way to +her grandparents, and what he had dreaded the day before happened. +</p> +<p> +The first glance from her eyes which met his forced the decisive question +from his lips. +</p> +<p> +In brief, earnest words he confessed his love for her, and his desire to +make her his own, as the pride and ornament of his house. +</p> +<p> +Then, in the intensity of her bliss, her eyes overflowed and, under the +spell of a great miracle wrought in her behalf, she found no words to +answer; but Dion had approached, clasped her right hand in both of his, +and frankly acknowledged how, with the image of his strict mother before +his eyes, he had wavered and hesitated until love had overmastered him. +Now, full of the warmest confidence, he asked whether she would consent to +rule as mistress of his home, the honour and ornament of his ancient name? +He knew that her heart was his, but he must hear one thing more from her +lips—— +</p> +<p> +Here she had interrupted him with the cry, “This one thing—that your +wife, in joy and in sorrow, will live for you and you alone? The whole +world can vanish for her, now that you have raised her to your side and +she is yours.” +</p> +<p> +After this assurance, which sounded like an oath, Dion felt as if a heavy +burden had fallen from his heart, and clasping her in his arms with +passionate tenderness, he repeated, “In joy and in sorrow!” +</p> +<p> +Thus Gorgias and Helena had surprised them, and the architect felt for the +first time that there is no distinction between our own happiness and that +of those whom we love. +</p> +<p> +His friend Helena seemed to have the same feeling, when she saw what this +day had given her sister; and the philosopher’s house, so lately shadowed +by anxiety, and many a fear, would soon ring with voices uttering joyous +congratulations. +</p> +<p> +The architect no longer felt that he had a place in this circle, which +was now pervaded by a great common joy, and after Dion made a brief +explanation, Gorgias’s voice was soon heard outside loudly issuing +orders to the workmen. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch09"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER IX. +</h3> + +<p> +Gorgias went to his work without delay. When the twin statues were only +waiting to be erected in front of the Theatre of Dionysus, Dion sought +him. Some impulse urged him to talk to his old friend before leaving the +city with his betrothed bride. Since they parted the latter had +accomplished the impossible; for the building of the wall on the Choma, +ordered by Antony, was commenced, the restoration of the little palace at +the point, and many other things connected with the decoration of the +triumphal arches, were arranged. His able and alert foreman found it +difficult to follow him as he dictated order after order in his +writing-tablet. +</p> +<p> +The conversation with his friend was not a long one, for Dion had promised +Barine and her mother to accompany them to the country. Notwithstanding +the betrothal, they were to start that very day; for Cæsarion had called +upon Barine twice that morning. She had not received him, but the +unfortunate youth’s conduct induced her to hasten the preparations for her +departure. +</p> +<p> +To avoid attracting attention, they were to use Archibius’s large +travelling chariot and Nile boat, although Dion’s were no less +comfortable. +</p> +<p> +The marriage was to take place in the “abode of peace.” The young +Alexandrian’s own ship, which was to convey the newly wedded pair to +Alexandria, bore the name of Peitho, the goddess of persuasion, for Dion +liked to be reminded of his oratorical powers in the council. Henceforward +it would be called the <i>Barine</i>, and was to receive many an embellishment. +</p> +<p> +Dion confided to his friend what he had learned in relation to the fate of +the Queen and the fleet, and, notwithstanding the urgency of the claims +upon Gorgias’s time, he lingered to discuss the future destiny of the city +and her threatened liberty; for these things lay nearest to his heart. +</p> +<p> +“Fortunately,” cried Dion, “I followed my inclination; now it seems to me +that duty commands every true man to make his own house a nursery for the +cultivation of the sentiments which he inherited from his forefathers and +which must not die, so long as there are Macedonian citizens in +Alexandria. We must submit if the superior might of Rome renders Egypt a +province of the republic, but we can preserve to our city and her council +the lion’s share of their freedom. Whatever may be the development of +affairs, we are and shall remain the source whence Rome draws the largest +share of the knowledge which enriches her brain.” +</p> +<p> +“And the art which adorns her rude life,” replied Gorgias. “If she is free +to crush us without pity, she will fare, I think, like the maiden who +raises her foot to trample on a beautiful, rare flower, and then withdraws +it because it would be a crime to destroy so exquisite a work of the +Creator.” +</p> +<p> +“And what does the flower owe to your maiden,” cried Dion, “or our city to +Rome? Let us meet her claims with dignified resolution, then I think we +shall not have the worst evils to fear.” +</p> +<p> +“Let us hope so. But, my friend, keep your eyes open for other than Roman +foes. Now that it will become known that you do not love her, beware of +Iras. There is something about her which reminds me of the jackal. +Jealousy!—I believe she would be capable of the worst——” +</p> +<p> +“Yet,” Dion interrupted, “Charmian will soften whatever injury Iras plans +to do me, and, though I cannot rely much upon my uncle, Archibius is above +both and favours us and our marriage.” +</p> +<p> +Gorgias uttered a sigh of relief, and exclaimed, “Then on to happiness!” +</p> +<p> +“And you must also begin to provide for yours,” replied Dion warmly. +“Forbid your heart to continue this wandering, nomad life. The tent which +the wind blows down is not fit for the architect’s permanent residence. +Build yourself a fine house, which will defy storms, as you built my +palace. I shall not grudge it, and have already said, the times demand +it.” +</p> +<p> +“I will remember the advice,” replied Gorgias. “But six eyes are again +bent upon me for direction. There are so many important things to be done +while we waste the hours in building triumphal arches for the defeated—trophies +for an overthrow. But your uncle has just issued orders to complete the +work in the most magnificent style. The ways of destiny and the great are +dark; may the brightest sunshine illumine yours! A prosperous journey! We +shall hear, of course, when you celebrate the wedding, and if I can I +shall join you in the Hymenæus. Lucky fellow that you are! Now I’m +summoned from over yonder! May Castor and Pollux, and all the gods +favourable to travel, Aphrodite, and all the Loves attend your trip to +Irenia, and protect you in the realm of Eros and Hymen!” +</p> +<p> +With these words the warm-hearted man clasped his friend to his breast for +the first time. Dion cordially responded, and at last shook his hard right +hand with the exclamation: +</p> +<p> +“Farewell, then, till we meet in Irenia on the wedding day, you dear, +faithful fellow.” +</p> +<p> +Then he entered the chariot which stood waiting, and Gorgias gazed after +him thoughtfully. +</p> +<p> +The hyacinthine purple cloak which Dion wore that day had not vanished +from his sight when a loud crashing, rattling, and roaring arose behind +him. A hastily erected scaffold, which was to support the pulleys for +raising the statues, had collapsed. The damage could be easily repaired, +but the accident aroused a troubled feeling in the architect’s mind. +He was a child of his time, a period when duty commanded the prudent man +to heed omens. Experience also taught him that when such a thing happened +in his work something unpleasant was apt to occur within the circle of +his friends. The veil of the future concealed what might be in store for +the beloved couple; but he resolved to keep his eyes open on Dion’s +behalf and to request Archibius to do the same. +</p> +<p> +The pressure of work, however, soon silenced the sense of uneasiness. The +damage was speedily repaired, and later Gorgias, sometimes with one, +sometimes with another tablet or roll of MS. in his hand, issued the most +varied orders. +</p> +<p> +Gradually the light of this dismal day faded. +</p> +<p> +Ere the night, which threatened to bring rain and storm, closed in, he +again rode on his mule to the Bruchium to overlook the progress of the +work in the various buildings and give additional directions, for the +labour was to be continued during the night. +</p> +<p> +The north wind was now blowing so violently from the sea that it was +difficult to keep the torches and lamps lighted. The gale drove the drops +of rain into his face, and a glance northward showed him masses of black +clouds beyond the harbour and the lighthouse. This indicated a bad night, +and again the boding sense of coming misfortune stole over him. Yet he set +to work swiftly and prudently, helping with his own hands when occasion +required. +</p> +<p> +Night closed in. Not a star was visible in the sky, and the air, chilled +by the north wind, grew so cold that Gorgias at last permitted his body +slave to wrap his cloak around him. While drawing the hood over his head, +he gazed at a procession of litters and men moving towards Lochias. +</p> +<p> +Perhaps the Queen’s children were returning home from some expedition. But +probably they were rather private citizens on their way to some festival +celebrating the victory; for every one now believed in a great battle and +a successful issue of the war. This was proved by the shouts and cheers of +the people, who, spite of the storm, were still moving to and fro near the +harbour. +</p> +<p> +The last of the torch-bearers had just passed Gorgias, and he had told +himself that a train of litters belonging to the royal family would not +move through the darkness so faintly lighted, when a single man, bearing +in his hand a lantern, whose flickering rays shone on his wrinkled face, +approached rapidly from the opposite direction. It was old Phryx, +Didymus’s house slave, with whom the architect had become acquainted, +while the aged scholar was composing the inscription for the Odeum which +Gorgias had erected. The aged servant had brought him many alterations of +his master’s first sketch, and Gorgias had reminded him of it the previous +day. +</p> +<p> +The workmen by whom the statues had been raised to the pedestal, amid the +bright glare of torches, to the accompaniment of a regular chant, had just +dropped the ropes, windlasses, and levers, when the architect recognized +the slave. +</p> +<p> +What did the old man want at so late an hour on this dark night? The fall +of the scaffold again returned to his mind. +</p> +<p> +Was the slave seeking for a member of the family? Did Helena need +assistance? He stopped the gray-haired man, who answered his question with +a heavy sigh, followed by the maxim, “Misfortunes come in pairs, like +oxen.” Then he continued: “Yesterday there was great anxiety. Today, when +there was so much rejoicing on account of Barine, I thought directly, +‘Sorrow follows joy, and the second misfortune won’t be spared us.’ And so +it proved.” +</p> +<p> +Gorgias anxiously begged him to relate what had happened, and the old man, +drawing nearer, whispered that the pupil and assistant of Didymus—young +Philotas of Amphissa, a student, and, moreover, a courteous young man of +excellent family—had gone to a banquet to which Antyllus, the son of +Antony, had invited several of his classmates. This had already happened +several times, and he, Phryx, had warned him, for, when the lowly +associate with the lofty, the lowly rarely escape kicks and blows. The +young fellow, who usually had behaved no worse than the other Ephebi, had +always returned from such festivities with a flushed face and unsteady +steps, but to-night he had not even reached his room in the upper story. +He had darted into the house as though pursued by the watch, and, while +trying to rush up the stairs—it was really only a ladder—he had made +a misstep and fell. He, Phryx, did not believe that he was hurt, for none +of his limbs ached, even when they were pulled and stretched, and Dionysus +kindly protected drunkards; but some demon must have taken possession of +him, for he howled and groaned continually, and would answer no questions. +True, he was aware, from the festivals of Dionysus, that the young man was +one of those who, when intoxicated, weep and lament; but this time +something unusual must have occurred, for in the first place his handsome +face was coloured black and looked hideous, since his tears had washed +away the soot in many places, and then he talked nothing but a confused +jargon. It was a pity. +</p> +<p> +When an attempt was made, with the help of the garden slave, to carry him +to his room, he dealt blows and kicks like a lunatic. Didymus now also +believed that he was possessed by demons, as often happens to those who, +in falling, strike their heads against the ground, and thus wake the +demons in the earth. Well, yes, they might be demons, but only those of +wine. The student was just “crazy drunk,” as people say. But the old +gentleman was very fond of his pupil, and had ordered him, Phryx, to go +to Olympus, who, ever since he could remember, had been the family +physician. +</p> +<p> +“The Queen’s leech?” asked Gorgias, disapprovingly, and when the slave +assented, the architect exclaimed in a positive tone: “It is not right to +force the old man out of doors in such a north wind. Age is not specially +considerate to age. Now that the statues stand yonder, I can leave my post +for half an hour and will go with you. I don’t think a leech is needed to +drive out <i>these</i> demons.” +</p> +<p> +“True, my lord, true!” cried the slave, “but Olympus is our friend. He +visits few patients, but he will come to our house in any weather. He has +litters, chariots, and splendid mules. The Queen gives him whatever is +best and most comfortable. He is skilful, and perhaps can render speedy +help. People must use what they have.” +</p> +<p> +“Only where it is necessary,” replied the architect. “There are my two +mules; follow me on the second. If I don’t drive out the demons, you will +have plenty of time to trot after Olympus.” +</p> +<p> +This proposal pleased the old slave, and a short time after Gorgias +entered the venerable philosopher’s tablinum. +</p> +<p> +Helena welcomed him like an intimate friend. Whenever he appeared she +thought the peril was half over. Didymus, too, greeted him warmly, and +conducted him to the little room where the youth possessed by demons lay +on a divan. +</p> +<p> +He was still groaning and whimpering. Tears were streaming down his +cheeks, and, whenever any member of the household approached, he pushed +him away. +</p> +<p> +When Gorgias held his hands and sternly ordered him to confess what wrong +he had done, he sobbed out that he was the most ungrateful wretch on +earth. His baseness would ruin his kind parents, himself, and all his +friends. +</p> +<p> +Then he accused himself of having caused the destruction of Didymus’s +granddaughter. He would not have gone to Antyllus again had not his recent +generosity bound him to him, but now he must atone—ay, atone. Then, as if +completely crushed, he continued to mumble the word, “atone!” and for a +time nothing more could be won from him. +</p> +<p> +Didymus, however, had the key to the last sentence. A few weeks before, +Philotas and several other pupils of the rhetorician whose lectures in the +museum he attended had been invited to breakfast with Antyllus. When the +young student loudly admired the beautiful gold and silver beakers in +which the wine was served, the reckless host cried: “They are yours; take +them with you.” When the guests departed the cup-bearer asked Philotas, +who had been far from taking the gift seriously, to receive his property. +Antyllus had intended to bestow the goblets; but he advised the youth to +let him pay their value in money, for among them were several ancient +pieces of most artistic workmanship, which Antony, the extravagant young +fellow’s father, might perhaps be unwilling to lose. +</p> +<p> +Thereupon several rolls of gold <i>solidi</i> were paid to the astonished student—and +they had been of little real benefit, since they had made it possible for +him to keep pace with his wealthy and aristocratic classmates and share +many of their extravagances. Yet he had not ceased to fulfil his duty to +Didymus. +</p> +<p> +Though he sometimes turned night into day, he gave no serious cause for +reproof. Small youthful errors were willingly pardoned; for he was a +good-looking, merry young fellow, who knew how to make himself agreeable +to the entire household, even to the women. +</p> +<p> +What had befallen the poor youth that day? Didymus was filled with +compassion for him, and, though he gladly welcomed Gorgias, he gave him to +understand that the leech’s absence vexed him. +</p> +<p> +But, during a long bachelor career in Alexandria, a city ever gracious to +the gifts of Bacchus, Gorgias had become familiar with attacks like those +of Philotas and their treatment, and after several jars of water had been +brought and he had been left alone a short time with the sufferer, the +philosopher secretly rejoiced that he had not summoned the grey-haired +leech into the stormy night for Gorgias led forth his pupil with dripping +hair, it is true, but in a state of rapid convalescence. +</p> +<p> +The youth’s handsome face was freed from soot, but his eyes were bent in +confusion on the ground, and he sometimes pressed his hand upon his aching +brow. It needed all the old philosopher’s skill in persuasion to induce +him to speak, and Philotas, before he began, begged Helena to leave the +room. +</p> +<p> +He intended to adhere strictly to the truth, though he feared that the +reckless deed into which he had suffered himself to be drawn might have a +fatal effect upon his future life. +</p> +<p> +Besides, he hoped to obtain wise counsel from the architect, to whom he +owed his speedy recovery, and whose grave, kindly manner inspired him with +confidence; and, moreover, he was so greatly indebted to Didymus that duty +required him to make a frank confession—yet he dared not acknowledge +one of the principal motives of his foolish act. +</p> +<p> +The plot into which he had been led was directed against Barine, whom he +had long imagined he loved with all the fervour of his twenty years. But, +just before he went to the fatal banquet, he had heard that the young +beauty was betrothed to Dion. This had wounded him deeply; for in many a +quiet hour it had seemed possible to win her for himself and lead her as +his wife to his home in Amphissa. He was very little younger than she, and +if his parents once saw her, they could not fail to approve his choice. +And the people in Amphissa! They would have gazed at Barine as if she were +a goddess. +</p> +<p> +And now this fine gentleman had come to crush his fairest hopes. No word +of love had ever been exchanged between him and Barine, but how kindly she +had always looked at him, how willingly she had accepted trivial services! +Now she was lost. +</p> +<p> +At first this had merely saddened him, but after he had drunk the wine, +and Antyllus, Antony’s son, in the presence of the revellers, over +whom Cæsarion presided as “symposiarch”* had accused Barine of +capturing hearts by magic spells, he had arrived at the conviction that +he, too, had been shamefully allured and betrayed. +</p> +<div class="footnote"><p> +* Director of a banquet. +</p></div> +<p> +He had served for a toy, he said to himself, unless she had really loved +him and merely preferred Dion on account of his wealth. In any case, he +felt justified in cherishing resentment against Barine, and with the +number of goblets which he drained his jealous rage increased. +</p> +<p> +When urged to join in the escapade which now burdened his conscience he +consented with a burning brain in order to punish her for the wrong which, +in his heated imagination, she had done him. +</p> +<p> +All this he withheld from the older men and merely briefly described the +splendid banquet which Cæsarion, pallid and listless as ever, had +directed, and Antyllus especially had enlivened with the most reckless +mirth. +</p> +<p> +The “King of kings” and Antony’s son had escaped from their tutors on the +pretext of a hunting excursion, and the chief huntsman had not grudged +them the pleasure—only they were obliged to promise him that they +would be ready to set out for the desert early the next morning. +</p> +<p> +When, after the banquet, the mixing-vessels were brought out and the +beakers were filled more rapidly, Antyllus whispered several times to +Cæsarion and then turned the conversation upon Barine, the fairest of the +fair, destined by the immortals for the greatest and highest of mankind. +This was the “King of kings,” Cæsarion, and he also claimed the favour of +the gods for himself. But everybody knew that Aphrodite deemed herself +greater than the highest of kings, and therefore Barine ventured to close +her doors upon their august symposiarch in a manner which could not fail +to be unendurable, not only to him but to all the youth of Alexandria. +Whoever boasted of being one of the Ephebi might well clench his fist with +indignation, when he heard that the insolent beauty kept young men at a +distance because she considered only the older ones worthy of her notice. +This must not be! The Ephebi of Alexandria must make her feel the power of +youth. This was the more urgently demanded, because Cæsarion would +thereby be led to the goal of his wishes. +</p> +<p> +Barine was going into the country that very evening. Insulted Eros himself +was smoothing their way. He commanded them to attack the arrogant fair +one’s carriage and lead her to him who sought her in the name of youth, in +order to show her that the hearts of the Ephebi, whom she disdainfully +rejected, glowed more ardently than those of the older men on whom she +bestowed her favours. +</p> +<p> +Here Gorgias interrupted the speaker with a loud cry of indignation, but +old Didymus’s eyes seemed to be fairly starting from their sockets as he +hoarsely shouted an impatient— +</p> +<p> +“Go on!” +</p> +<p> +And Philotas, now completely sobered, described with increasing animation +the wonderful change that had taken place in the quiet Cæsarion, as if +some magic spell had been at work; for scarcely had the revellers greeted +Antyllus’s words with shouts of joy, declaring themselves ready to avenge +insulted youth upon Barine, than the “King of kings” suddenly sprang from +the cushions on which he had listlessly reclined, and with flashing eyes +shouted that whoever called himself his friend must aid him in the attack. +</p> +<p> +Here he was urged to still greater haste by another impatient “Go on!” +from his master, and hurriedly continued his story, describing how they +had blackened their faces and armed themselves with Antyllus’s swords and +lances. As the sun was setting they went in a covered boat through the +Agathodæmon Canal to Lake Mareotis. Everything must have been arranged in +advance; for they landed precisely at the right hour. +</p> +<p> +As, during the trip, they had kept up their courage by swallowing the most +fiery wine, Philotas had staggered on shore with difficulty and then been +dragged forward by the others. After this he knew nothing more, except +that he had rushed with the rest upon a large <i>harmamaxa</i>, and in so +doing fell. When he rose from the earth all was over. +</p> +<p> +As if in a dream he saw Scythians and other guardians of the peace seize +Antyllus, while Cæsarion was struggling on the ground with another man. +If he was not mistaken it was Dion, Barine’s betrothed husband. +</p> +<p> +These communications were interrupted by many exclamations of impatience +and wrath; but now Didymus, fairly frantic with alarm, cried: +</p> +<p> +“And the child—Barine?” +</p> +<p> +But when Philotas’s sole reply to this question was a silent shake of the +head, indignation conquered the old philosopher, and clutching his pupil’s +<i>chiton</i> with both hands, he shook him violently, exclaiming furiously: +</p> +<p> +“You don’t know, scoundrel? Instead of defending her who should be dear to +you as a child of this household, you joined the rascally scorners of +morality and law as the accomplice of this waylayer in purple!” +</p> +<p> +Here the architect soothed the enraged old man with expostulations, and +the assertion that everything must now yield to the necessity of searching +for Barine and Dion. He did not know which way to turn, in the amount of +labour pressing upon him, but he would have a hasty talk with the foreman +and then try to find his friend. +</p> +<p> +“And I,” cried the old man, “must go at once to the unfortunate child.—My +cloak, Phryx, my sandals!” +</p> +<p> +In spite of Gorgias’s counsel to remember his age and the inclement +weather, he cried angrily: +</p> +<p> +“I am going, I say! If the tempest hurls me to the earth, and the bolts of +Zeus strike me, so be it. One misfortune more or less matters little in a +life which has been a chain of heavy blows of Fate. I buried three sons in +the prime of manhood, and two have been slain in battle. Barine, the joy +of my heart, I myself, fool that I was, bound to the scoundrel who blasted +her joyous existence; and now that I believed she would be protected from +trouble and misconstruction by the side of a worthy husband, these +infamous rascals, whose birth protects them from vengeance, have wounded, +perhaps killed her betrothed lover. They trample in the dust her fair name +and my white hair!—Phryx, my hat and staff.” +</p> +<p> +The storm had long been raging around the house, which stood close by the +sea, and the sailcloth awning which was stretched over the impluvium +noisily rattled the metal rings that confined it. Now so violent a gust +swept from room to room that two of the flames in the three-branched lamp +went out. The door of the house had been opened, and drenched with rain, a +hood drawn over his black head, Barine’s Nubian doorkeeper crossed the +threshold. +</p> +<p> +He presented a pitiable spectacle and at first could find no answer to the +greetings and questions of the men, who had been joined by Helena, her +grandmother leaning on her arm; his rapid walk against the fury of the +storm had fairly taken away his breath. +</p> +<p> +He had little, however, to tell. Barine merely sent a message to her +relatives that, no matter what tales rumour might bring, she and her +mother were unhurt. Dion had received a wound in the shoulder, but it was +not serious. Her grandparents need have no anxiety; the attack had +completely failed. +</p> +<p> +Doris, who was deaf, had listened vainly, holding her hand to her ear, to +catch this report; and Didymus now told his granddaughter as much as he +deemed it advisable for her to know, that she might communicate it to her +grandmother, who understood the movements of her lips. +</p> +<p> +The old man was rejoiced to learn that his granddaughter had escaped so +great a peril uninjured, yet he was still burdened by sore anxiety. The +architect, too, feared the worst, but by dint of assuring him that he +would return at once with full details when he had ascertained the fate of +Dion and his betrothed bride, he finally persuaded the old man to give up +the night walk through the tempest. +</p> +<p> +Philotas, with tears in his eyes, begged them to accept his services as +messenger or for any other purpose; but Didymus ordered him to go to bed. +An opportunity would be found to enable him to atone for the offence so +recklessly committed. +</p> +<p> +The scholar’s peaceful home was deprived of its nocturnal repose, and when +Gorgias had gone and Didymus had refused Helena’s request to have the aged +porter take her to her sister, the old man remained alone with his wife in +the tablinum. +</p> +<p> +She had been told nothing except that thieves had attacked her +granddaughter, Barine, and slightly wounded her lover; but her own heart +and the manner of the husband, at whose side she had grown grey, showed +that many things were being concealed. She longed to know the story more +fully, but it was difficult for Didymus to talk a long time in a loud +tone, so she silenced her desire to learn the whole truth. But, in order +to await the architect’s report, they did not go to rest. +</p> +<p> +Didymus had sunk into an armchair, and Doris sat near at her spindle, but +without drawing any threads from her distaff. When she heard her husband +sigh and saw him bury his face in his hands, she limped nearer to him, +difficult as it was for her to move, and stroked his head, now nearly +bald, with her hand. Then she uttered soothing words, and, as the anxious, +troubled expression did not yet pass from his wrinkled face, she reminded +him in faltering yet tender tones how often they had thought they must +despair, and yet everything had resulted well. +</p> +<p> +“Ah! husband,” she added, “I know full well that the clouds hanging over +us are very black, and I cannot even see them clearly, because you show +them at such a distance. Yet I feel that they threaten us with sore +tribulation. But, after all, what harm can they do us, if we only keep +close together, we two old people and the children of the children whom +Hades rent from us? We need only to grow old to perceive that life has a +head with many faces. The ugly one of to-day can last no longer than you +can keep that deeply furrowed brow. But you need not coerce yourself for +my sake, husband. Let it be so. I need merely close my eyes to see how +smooth and beautiful it was in youth, and how pleasant it will look when +better days say, ‘Here we are!’ ” +</p> +<p> +Didymus, with a mournful smile, kissed her grey hair and shouted into her +left ear, which was a little less deaf than the other: +</p> +<p> +“How young you are still, wife!” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch10"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER X. +</h3> + +<p> +The tempest swept howling from the north across the island of Pharos, and +the shallows of Diabathra in the great harbour of Alexandria. The water, +usually so placid, rose in high waves, and the beacon on the lighthouse of +Sastratus sent the rent abundance of its flames with hostile impetuosity +towards the city. The fires in the pitch-pans and the torches on the shore +sometimes seemed on the point of being extinguished, at others burst with +a doubly brilliant blaze through the smoke which obscured them. +</p> +<p> +The royal harbour, a fine basin which surrounded in the form of a +semicircle the southern part of the Lochias and a portion of the northern +shore of the Bruchium, was brightly illuminated every night; but this +evening there seemed to be an unusual movement among the lights on its +western shore, the private anchorage of the royal fleet. +</p> +<p> +Was it the storm that stirred them? No. How could the wind have set one +torch in the place of another, and moved lights or lanterns in a direction +opposite to its violent course? Only a few persons, however, perceived +this; for, though joyous anticipation or anxious fears urged many thither, +who would venture upon the quay on such a tempestuous night? Besides, no +one would have found admittance to the royal port, which was closed on all +sides. Even the mole which, towards the west, served as the string to the +bow of land surrounding it, had but a single opening and—as every +one knew—that was closed by a chain in the same way as the main +entrance to the harbour between the Pharos and Alveus Steganus. +</p> +<p> +About two hours before midnight, spite of the increasing fury of the +tempest, the singular movement of the lights diminished, but rarely had +the hearts of those for whom they burned throbbed so anxiously. These were +the dignitaries and court officials who stood nearest to Cleopatra—about +twenty men and a single woman, Iras. Mardion and she had summoned them +because the Queen’s letter permitted those to whom she had given authority +to offer her a quiet reception. After a long consultation they had not +invited the commanders of the little Roman garrison left behind. It was +doubtful whether those whom they expected would return that night, and the +Roman soldiers who were loyal to Antony had gone with him to the war. +</p> +<p> +The hall in the centre of the private roadstead of the royal harbour, +where they had assembled, was furnished with regal magnificence; for it +was a favourite resort of the Queen. The spacious apartment lacked no +requisite of comfort, and most of those who were waiting used the +well-cushioned couches, while others, harassed by mental anxiety, paced to +and fro. +</p> +<p> +As the room had remained unused for months, bats had made nests there, and +now that it was lighted, dazzled by the glare of the lamps and candles, +they darted to and fro above the heads of the assembly. Iras had ordered +the commander of the Mellakes, or youths, a body-guard composed of the +sons of aristocratic Macedonian families, to expel the troublesome +creatures, and it diverted the thoughts of these devoted soldiers of the +Queen to strike at them with their swords. +</p> +<p> +Others preferred to watch this futile battle rather than give themselves +up to the anxiety which filled their minds. The Regent was gazing mutely +at the ground; Iras, pale and absent-minded, was listening to Zeno’s +statements; and Archibius had gone out of doors, and, unheeding the storm, +was looking across the tossing waves of the harbour for the expected +ships. +</p> +<p> +In a wooden shed, whose roof was supported by gaily painted pillars, +through which the wind whistled, the servants, from the porters to the +litter-bearers, had gathered in groups under the flickering light of the +lanterns. The Greeks sat on wooden stools, the Egyptians upon mats on the +floor. The largest circle contained the parties who attended to the +Queen’s luggage and the upper servants, among whom were several maids. +</p> +<p> +They had been told that the Queen was expected that night, because it was +possible that the strong north wind would bear her ship home with +unexpected speed after the victory. But they were better informed: palaces +have chinks in doors and curtains, and are pervaded by a very peculiar +echo which bears even a whisper distinctly from ear to ear. +</p> +<p> +The body-slave of the commander-in-chief Seleukus was the principal +spokesman. His master had reached Alexandria but a few hours ago from the +frontier fortress of Pelusium, which he commanded. A mysterious order from +Lucilius, Antony’s most faithful friend, brought from Tænarum by a swift +galley, had summoned him hither. +</p> +<p> +The freedman Beryllus, a loquacious Sicilian, who, as an actor, had seen +better days ere pirates robbed him of his liberty, had heard many new +things, and his hearers listened eagerly; for ships coming from the north, +which touched at Pelusium, had confirmed and completed the evil tidings +that had penetrated the Sebasteum. +</p> +<p> +According to his story, he was as well informed as if he had been an +eye-witness of the naval battle; for he had been present during his +master’s conversation with many ship-captains and messengers from Greece. +He even assumed the air of a loyal, strictly silent servant, who would +only venture to confirm and deny what the Alexandrians had already +learned. Yet his knowledge consisted merely of a confused medley of false +and true occurrences. While the Egyptian fleet had been defeated at +Actium, and Antony, flying with Cleopatra, had gone first to Tænarum at +the end of the Peloponnesian coast, he asserted that the army and fleet +had met on the Peloponnesian coast and Octavianus was pursuing Antony, who +had turned towards Athens, while Cleopatra was on her way to Alexandria. +</p> +<p> +His “trustworthy intelligence” had been patched together from a few words +caught from Seleukus at table, or while receiving and dismissing +messengers. In other matters his information was more accurate. +</p> +<p> +While for several days the harbour of Alexandria had been closed, vessels +were permitted to enter Pelusium, and all captains of newly arrived ships +and caravans were compelled to report to Beryllus’s master, the commandant +of the important frontier fortress. +</p> +<p> +He had quitted Pelusium the night before. The strong wind had driven the +trireme before it so swiftly that it was difficult for even the sea gulls +to follow. It was easy for the listeners to believe this; for the storm +outside howled louder and louder, whistling through the open hall where +the servants had gathered. Most of the lamps and torches had been blown +out, the pitch-pans only sent forth still blacker clouds of smoke, lit by +red and yellow flames, and the closed lanterns alone continued to diffuse +a flickering light. So the wide space, dim with smoke, was illumined only +by a dull, varying glimmer. +</p> +<p> +One of the porters had furnished wine to shorten the hours of waiting; but +it could only be drunk in secret, so there were no goblets. The jars +wandered from mouth to mouth, and every sip was welcome, for the wind blew +keenly, and besides, the smoke irritated their throats. +</p> +<p> +The freedman, Beryllus, was often interrupted by paroxysms of coughing, +especially from the women, while relating the evil omens which were told +to his master in Pelusium. Each was well authenticated and surpassed its +predecessor in significance. +</p> +<p> +Here one of Iras’s maids interrupted him to tell the story of the swallows +on the “Antonius,” Cleopatra’s admiral galley. He could scarcely report +from Pelusium an omen of darker presage. +</p> +<p> +But Beryllus gazed at her with a pitying smile, which so roused the +expectations of the others that the overseer of the litter and baggage +porters, who were talking loudly together, hoarsely shouted, “Silence!” +</p> +<p> +Soon no sound was heard in the open space save the shrill whistling of the +wind, a word of command to the harbour-guards, and the freedman’s voice, +which he lowered to increase the charm of the mysterious events he was +describing. +</p> +<p> +He began with the most fulsome praise of Cleopatra and Antony, reminding +his hearers that the Imperator was a descendant of Herakles. The +Alexandrians especially were aware that their Queen and Antony claimed and +desired to be called “The new Isis” and “The new Dionysus.” But every one +who beheld the Roman must admit that in face and figure he resembled a god +far more than a man. +</p> +<p> +The Imperator had appeared as Dionysus, especially to the Athenians. In +the proscenium of the theatre in that city was a huge bas-relief of the +Battle of the Giants, the famous work of an ancient sculptor—he, +Beryllus, had seen it—and from amid the numerous figures in this +piece of sculpture the tempest had torn but a single one—which? +Dionysus, the god as whose mortal image Antony had once caroused in a +vine-clad arbour in the presence of the Athenians. The storm to-night was +at the utmost like the breath of a child, compared with the hurricane +which could wrest from the hard marble the form of Dionysus. But Nature +gathers all her forces when she desires to announce to short-sighted +mortals the approach of events which are to shake the world. +</p> +<p> +The last words were quoted from his master who had studied in Athens. They +had escaped from his burdened soul when he heard of another portent, of +which a ship from Ostia had brought tidings. The flourishing city Pisaura—— +</p> +<p> +Here, however, he was interrupted, for several of those present had +learned, weeks before, that this place had sunk in the sea, but merely +pitied the unfortunate inhabitants. +</p> +<p> +Beryllus quietly permitted them to free themselves from the suspicion that +people in Alexandria had had tidings of so remarkable an event later than +those in Pelusium, and at first answered their query what this had to do +with the war merely by a shrug of the shoulders; but when the overseer of +the porters also put the question, he went on “The omen made a specially +deep impression upon our minds, for we know what Pisaura is, or rather how +it came into existence. The hapless city which dark Hades ingulfed really +belonged to Antony, for in the days of its prosperity he was its founder.” +</p> +<p> +He measured the group with a defiant glance, and there was no lack of +evidences of horror; nay, one of the maid-servants shrieked aloud, for the +storm had just snatched a torch from the iron rings in the wall and hurled +it on the floor close beside the listener. +</p> +<p> +Suspense seemed to have reached its height. Yet it was evident that +Beryllus had not yet drawn his last arrow from the quiver. +</p> +<p> +The maid-servant, whose scream had startled the others, had regained her +composure and seemed eager to hear some other new and terrible omen, for, +with a beseeching glance, she begged the freedman not to withhold the +other things he knew. +</p> +<p> +He pointed to the drops of perspiration which, spite of the wind sweeping +through the hall, covered her brow: “You must use your handkerchief. +Merely listening to my tale will dampen your skin. Stone statues are made +of harder material, but a soul dwells within them too. Their natures may +be harsher or more gentle; they bring us woe or heal heavy sorrows, +according to their mood. Every one learns this who raises his hands to +them in prayer. One of these statues stands in Alba. It represents Mark +Antony, in whose honour it was erected by the city. And it foresaw what +menaced the man whose stone double it is. Ay, open your ears! About four +days ago a ship’s captain came to my master and in my presence this man +reported—he grew as pale as ashes while he spoke—what he +himself had witnessed. Drops of perspiration had oozed from the statue of +Antony in Alba. Horror seized all the citizens; men and women came to wipe +the brow and cheeks of the statue, but the drops of perspiration did not +cease to drip, and this continued several days and nights. The stone image +had felt what was impending over the living Mark Antony. It was a horrible +spectacle, the man said.” +</p> +<p> +Here the speaker paused, and the group of listeners started, for the clang +of a gong was heard outside, and the next instant all were on their feet +hastening to their posts. +</p> +<p> +The officials in the magnificent hall had also risen. Here the silence had +been interrupted only by low whispers. The colour had faded from most of +the grave, anxious faces, and their timid glances shunned one another. +</p> +<p> +Archibius had first perceived, by the flames of the Pharos, the red +glimmer which announced the approach of the royal galley. It had not been +expected so early, but was already passing the islands into the great +harbour. It was probably the Antonius, the ship on which the old swallows +had pecked the young ones to death. +</p> +<p> +Though the waves were running high, even in the sheltered harbour, they +scarcely rocked the massive vessel. An experienced pilot must have steered +it past the shallows and cliffs on the eastern side of the roadstead, for +instead of passing around the island of Antirrhodus as usual, it kept +between the island and the Lochias, steering straight towards the entrance +into the little royal harbour. The pitch-pans on both sides had been +filled with fresh resin and tow to light the way. The watchers on the +shore could now see its outlines distinctly. +</p> +<p> +It was the Antonius, and yet it was not. +</p> +<p> +Zeno, the Keeper of the Seal, who was standing beside Iras, wrapped his +cloak closer around his shivering limbs, pointed to it, and whispered, +“Like a woman who leaves her parents’ house in the rich array of a bride, +and returns to it an impoverished widow.” +</p> +<p> +Iras drew herself up, and with cutting harshness replied, “Like the sun +veiled by mists, but which will soon shine forth again more radiantly than +ever.” +</p> +<p> +“Spoken from the depths of my soul,” said the old courtier eagerly, “so +far as the Queen is concerned. Of course, I did not allude to her Majesty, +but to the ship. You were ill when it left the harbour, garlanded with +flowers and adorned with purple sails. And now! Even this flickering light +shows the wounds and rents. I am the last person whom you need tell that +our sun Cleopatra will soon regain its old radiance, but at present it is +very chilly and cold here by the water’s edge in this stormy air; and when +I think of our first moment of meeting——” +</p> +<p> +“Would it were over!” murmured Iras, wrapping herself closer in her cloak. +Then she drew back shivering, for the rattle of the heavy chain, which was +drawn aside from the opening of the harbour, echoed with an uncanny sound +through the silence of the night. A mountain seemed to weigh upon the +watchers’ breasts, for the wooden monster which now entered the little +harbour moved forward as slowly and silently as a spectral ship. It seemed +as if life were extinct on the huge galley usually swarming with a +numerous crew; as if a vessel were about to cast anchor whose sailors had +fallen victims to the plague. Nothing was heard save an occasional word of +command, and the signal whistles of the fluteplayer who directed the +rowers. A few lanterns burned with a wavering light on the vast length of +her decks. The brilliant illumination which usually shone through the +darkness would have attracted the attention of the Alexandrians. +</p> +<p> +Now it was close to the landing. The group on shore watched every inch of +its majestic progress with breathless suspense, but when the first rope +was flung to the slaves on shore several men in Greek robes pressed +forward hurriedly among the courtiers. +</p> +<p> +They had come with a message, whose importance would permit no delay, to +the Regent Mardion, who stood between Zeno and Iras, gazing gloomily at +the ground with a frowning brow. He was pondering over the words in which +to address the Queen, and within a few minutes the ship would have made +her landing, and Cleopatra might cross the bridge. To disturb him at that +moment was an undertaking few who knew the irritable, uncertain temper of +the eunuch would care to risk. But the tall Macedonian, who for a short +time attracted the eyes of most of the spectators from the galley, +ventured to do so. It was the captain of the nightwatch, the aristocratic +commander of the police force of the city. +</p> +<p> +“Only a word, my lord,” he whispered to the Regent, “though the time may +be inopportune.” +</p> +<p> +“As inopportune as possible,” replied the eunuch with repellent harshness. +</p> +<p> +“We will say as inopportune as the degree of haste necessary for its +decision. The King Cæsarion, with Antyllus and several companions, +attacked a woman. Blackened faces. A fight. Cæsarion and the woman’s +companion—an aristocrat, member of the Council—slightly +wounded. Lictors interfered just in time. The young gentlemen were +arrested. At first they refused to give their names——” +</p> +<p> +“Cæsarion slightly, <i>really</i> only slightly wounded?” asked the eunuch with +eager haste. +</p> +<p> +“Really and positively. Olympus was summoned at once. A knock on the head. +The man who was attacked flung him on the pavement in the struggle.” +</p> +<p> +“Dion, the son of Eumenes, is the man,” interrupted Iras, whose quick ear +had caught the officer’s report. “The woman—is Barine, the daughter of the +artist Leonax.” +</p> +<p> +“Then you know already?” asked the Macedonian in surprise. +</p> +<p> +“So it seems,” answered Mardion, gazing into the girl’s face with a +significant glance. Then, turning to her rather than to the Macedonian, he +added, “I think we will have the young rascals set free and brought to +Lochias with as little publicity as possible.” +</p> +<p> +“To the palace?” asked the Macedonian. +</p> +<p> +“Of course,” replied Iras firmly. “Each to his own apartments, where they +must remain until further orders.” +</p> +<p> +“Everything else must be deferred until after the reception,” added the +eunuch, and the Macedonian, with a slight, haughty nod, drew back. +</p> +<p> +“Another misfortune,” sighed the eunuch. +</p> +<p> +“A boyish prank,” Iras answered quickly, “but even a still greater +misfortune is less than nothing so long as we are not conscious of it. +This unpleasant occurrence must be concealed for the present from the +Queen. Up to this time it is a vexation, nothing more—and it can and +must remain so; for we have it in our power to uproot the poisonous tree +whence it emanates.” +</p> +<p> +“You look as if no one could better perform the task,” the Regent +interrupted, with a side glance at the galley, “so you shall have the +commission. It is the last one I shall give, during the Queen’s absence, +in her name.” +</p> +<p> +“I shall not fail,” she answered firmly. +</p> +<p> +When Iras again looked towards the landing-place she saw Archibius +standing alone, with his eyes fixed upon the ground. Impulse prompted her +to tell her uncle what had happened; but at the first step she paused, and +her thin lips uttered a firm “No.” +</p> +<p> +Her friend had become a stone in her path. If necessary, she would find +means to thrust him also aside, spite of his sister Charmian and the old +tie which united him to Cleopatra. He had grown weak, Charmian had always +been so. +</p> +<p> +She would have had time enough now to consider what step to take first, +had not her heart ached so sorely. +</p> +<p> +After the huge galley lay moored, several minutes elapsed ere two +<i>pastophori</i> of the goddess Isis, who guarded the goblet of Nektanebus, +taken from the temple treasures and borne along in a painted chest, +stepped upon the bridge, followed by Cleopatra’s first chamberlain, who in +a low tone announced the approach of the Queen and commanded the waiting +groups to make way. A double line of torch-bearers had been stationed from +the landing to the gate leading into the Bruchium, and the other on the +north, which was the entrance to the palaces on the Lochias, since it was +not known where Cleopatra would desire to go. The chamberlain, however, +said that she would spend the night at Lochias, where the children lived, +and ordered all the flickering, smoking torches, save a few, to be +extinguished. +</p> +<p> +Mardion, the Keeper of the Seal, Archibius, and Iras were standing by the +bridge a little in advance of the others, when voices were heard on the +ship, and the Queen appeared, preceded by several lantern-bearers and +followed by a numerous train of court officials, pages, maids, and female +slaves. Cleopatra’s little hand rested on Charmian’s arm, as, with a +haughty carriage of the head, she moved towards the shore. A thick veil +covered her face, and a large, dark cloak concealed her figure. How +elastic her step was still! how proud yet graceful was the gesture with +which she waved a greeting to Mardion and Zeno! +</p> +<p> +Extending her hand to raise Iras, who had sunk prostrate before her, she +kissed her on the forehead, whispering, “The children?” +</p> +<p> +“All is well with them,” replied the girl. +</p> +<p> +Then the returning sovereign greeted the others with a gracious gesture, +but vouchsafed a word to no one until the eunuch stepped before her to +deliver his address of welcome. She motioned him aside with a curt +“Later”; and when Zeno held open the door of the litter, she said in a +stifled tone: “I will walk. After the rocking of the galley in this +tempest, I feel reluctant to enter the litter. There are many things to be +considered to-day. An idea came to me on the way home. Summon the captain +of the harbour and his chief counsellors, the heads of the war office, the +superintendent of the fortifications on land and water, especially the +Aristarch and Gorgias—I want to see them. Time presses. They must be +here in two hours—no, in an hour and a half. I wish to examine all their +plans and charts of the eastern frontier, especially the river channels +and canals in the Delta.” +</p> +<p> +Then she turned to Archibius, who had approached the litter, laid her hand +upon his arm, and though her veil prevented him from seeing her sparkling +eyes, he felt them shining deep into his heart, as the voice whose melody +had often enthralled his soul cried, “We will take it as a favourable omen +that it is again <i>you</i> who lead me to this palace in a time of trouble.” +</p> +<p> +His overflowing heart found expression in the warm reply, “Whenever it may +be, forever and ever this arm and this life are yours!” And the Queen +answered in a tone of earnest belief, “I know it.” +</p> +<p> +Then, with her hand still resting on his arm, she moved forward; but when +he began to ask whether she really had cause to speak of a time of +trouble, she cut him short with the entreaty “Not now. Let us say nothing. +It is worse than bad—as evil as possible. Yet no. Few are permitted, +in an hour of trouble, to lean on the arm of a faithful friend.” +</p> +<p> +The words were accompanied with a light pressure of her little hand, and +it seemed as if his old heart was growing young. +</p> +<p> +He dared not speak, for her wish was law; but while moving silently at her +side, first along the shore, then through the gate, and finally over the +marble flagstones which led to the palace portal, it seemed as if he +beheld, instead of the veiled head of the hapless Queen, the soft, +light-brown locks which floated around the face of a happy child. Before +his mental vision rose the little mistress of the garden of Epicurus. He +saw the sparkle of her large blue eyes, which never ceased to question, +yet appeared to contain the mystery of the world. He fancied he heard once +more the silvery cadence of her voice and the bewitching magic of her +pure, childlike laughter, and it was hard to remember what she had become. +</p> +<p> +Snatched away from the present, yet conscious that Fate had granted him a +great boon in this sorrowful hour, he moved on at her side and led her +through the main entrance, the spacious inner court-yard of the palace. At +the rear was the great door opening into the Queen’s apartments, before +which Mardion, Iras, and their companions had already stationed +themselves. At the left was a smaller one leading into the wing occupied +by the children. +</p> +<p> +Archibius was about to conduct Cleopatra across the lighted court-yard, +but she motioned towards the children’s rooms, and he understood her. +</p> +<p> +At the threshold her hand fell from his arm, and when he bowed as if to +retire, she said kindly: “There is Charmian. You both deserve to accompany +me to the spot where childhood is dreaming and peace of mind and +painlessness have their abode. But respect for the Queen has prevented the +brother and sister from greeting each other after so long a separation. Do +so now! Then, follow me.” +</p> +<p> +While speaking, she hastened with the swift step of youth into the atrium +and up the staircase which led to the sleeping-rooms of the princes and +princesses. +</p> +<p> +Archibius and Charmian obeyed her bidding; the brother clasped his sister +affectionately in his arms, and in hurried tones, with tears streaming +from her eyes, she informed him that to her all seemed lost. +</p> +<p> +Antony had behaved in a manner for which no words of condemnation or +regret were adequate. Probably he would follow Cleopatra; the fleet, and +perhaps the army also, were destroyed. Her fate lay in the hands of +Octavianus. +</p> +<p> +Then she preceded him towards the staircase, where Iras was standing with +a tall Syrian, who bore a striking resemblance to Philostratus, Barine’s +former husband. It was his brother Alexas, the trusted favourite of Mark +Antony. His place should now have been with him, and Archibius asked his +sister with a hasty look how this man chanced to be in the Queen’s train. +</p> +<p> +“His skill in reading the stars,” was the reply. “His flattering tongue. +He is a parasite of the worst kind, but he tells her many things, he +diverts her, and she tolerates him near her person.” +</p> +<p> +As soon as Iras saw the direction in which Cleopatra had turned, she had +hastened after her to accompany her to the children. The Syrian Alexas had +stopped her to express his joy in meeting her again. Even before the +outbreak of the war he had devoted himself zealously to her, and he now +plainly showed that during the long period of separation his feelings had +by no means cooled. Like his brother, he had a head too small for his +body, but his well-formed features were animated by a pair of eyes +sparkling with a keen, covetous expression. +</p> +<p> +Iras, too, seemed glad to welcome the favourite, but ere the brother and +sister reached the staircase she left him to embrace Charmian, her aunt +and companion, with the affection of a daughter. +</p> +<p> +They found the Queen in the anteroom of the children’s apartments. +Euphronion, their tutor, had awaited her there, and hurriedly gave, in the +most rapturous terms, his report of them and the wonderful gifts which +became more and more apparent in each, now as a heritage from their +mother, now from their father. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra had interrupted the torrent of his enthusiastic speech with many +a question, meanwhile endeavouring to loose the veil wound about her head; +but the little hands, unaccustomed to the task, failed. Iras noticed it +from the stairs and, hastening up the last steps, skilfully released her +from the long web of lace. +</p> +<p> +The Queen acknowledged the service by a gracious nod, but when the chief +eunuch opened the door leading into the children’s rooms, she called +joyously to the brother and sister, “Come!” The tutor, who was obliged to +leave the charge of his pupils’ sleeping apartments to the eunuchs and +nurses, drew back, but Iras felt it a bitter affront to be excluded from +this visit. Her cheeks flushed and paled; her thin lips were more firmly +compressed, and she gazed intently at the basket of fruit in the mosaic +floor at her feet as if she were counting the cherries that filled it. But +she suddenly pushed the little curls back from her forehead, darted +swiftly down the stairs, and called to Alexas just as he was about to +leave the atrium. +</p> +<p> +The Syrian hastened towards her, extolling the good fortune that made his +sun rise for him a second time that night, but she cut him short with the +words: “Cease this foolish love-making. It would be far better for us both +to become allies in serious, bitter earnest. I am ready.” +</p> +<p> +“So am I!” cried the Syrian rapturously, pressing his hand upon his heart. +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile Cleopatra had entered the chamber where the children lay +sleeping. Deep silence pervaded the lofty hall hung with bright-hued +carpets, and softly lighted by three lamps with rose-colored globes. An +arch, supported by pillars of Libyan marble, divided the wide space. In +the first, near a window closely muffled with draperies, stood two ivory +beds, surmounted with crowns of gold and silver set with pearls and +turquoises. Around the edge, carved by the hands of a great artist, ran a +line of happy children dancing to the songs of birds in blossoming bushes. +</p> +<p> +The couches were separated by a heavy curtain which the eunuchs had raised +at the approach of the Queen. Cleopatra could now see them all at a single +glance, and the picture was indeed one of exquisite charm; for on these +beautiful couches slept the twins, the ten-year-old children of Cleopatra +and Antony—Antonius Helios and Cleopatra Selene. The girl was pink +and white, fair and wonderfully lovely; the boy no less beautiful, but +with ebon-black hair, like his father. Both curly heads were turned +towards the side, and rested on a dimpled hand pressed upon the silken +pillow. +</p> +<p> +Upon a third bed, beyond the arch, was Alexander, the youngest prince, a +lovely boy of six, the Queen’s darling. +</p> +<p> +After gazing a long while at the twins, and pressing a light kiss upon +cheeks flushed with slumber, she turned to the youngest child and sank +beside his couch as if forced to bend the knee before some apparition +which Heaven had vouchsafed to her. Tears streamed from her eyes as, +drawing the child carefully towards her, she kissed his mouth, eyes, and +cheeks, and then laid him gently back upon the pillows. The boy, however, +did not instantly relapse into slumber, but threw his little plump arms +around his mother’s neck, murmuring incomprehensible words. She joyously +submitted to his caresses, till sleep again overpowered him, and his +little hands fell back upon the bed. +</p> +<p> +She lingered a short time longer, with her brow resting on the ivory of +the couch, praying for this child and his brother and sister. When she +rose again her cheeks were wet with tears, and she pressed her hand upon +her breast. Then, beckoning to Charmian and Archibius, she motioned +towards Alexander and the twins, saying, as she saw tears glittering in +the eyes of both: “I know you have lost this happiness for my sake. For +each one of these children a great empire would not be too high a price; +for them all—— What does earth contain that I would not bestow? +Yet what can I still call my own?” +</p> +<p> +Her smiling face clouded as she asked the question. The vision of the lost +battle again rose before her mind. Her own power was lost, forfeited, and +with it the independence of the native land which she loved. Rome was +already stretching out her hand to add it to the others as a new province. +But this should not be! Her twin children yonder, sleeping beneath crowns, +must <i>wear</i> them! And the boy slumbering on the pillows? How many kingdoms +Antony had bestowed! What remained for her to give? +</p> +<p> +Again she bent to the child. A beautiful dream must have hovered over him, +for he was smiling in his sleep. A flood of maternal love welled up in her +agitated heart, and, as she saw the companions of her childhood also +gazing tenderly at the little steeper, she remembered the days of her own +youth, and the quiet happiness which she had enjoyed in her garden of +Epicurus. +</p> +<p> +Power and splendour had begun for her beyond its confines, but the greater +the heights of worldly grandeur she attained, the more distant, the more +irrecoverable became the consciousness of the happiness which she had once +gratefully enjoyed, and for which she had never ceased to long. And as she +now gazed once more at the peaceful, smiling face, whence all pain and +anxiety seemed worlds away, and all the love which her heart contained +appeared to be pouring towards him, the question arose in her mind whether +this boy, for whom she possessed no crown, might not be the only happy +mortal of them all—happy in the sense of the master. Deeply moved by this +thought, she turned to Archibius and Charmian, exclaiming in a subdued +tone, in order not to rouse the sleeper: “Whatever destiny may await us, I +commend this child to your special love and care. If Fate denies him the +lustre of the crown and the elation of power, teach him to enjoy that +other happiness, which—how long ago it is!—your father +unfolded to his mother.” +</p> +<p> +Archibius kissed her robe, and Charmian her hands; but Cleopatra, drawing +a long breath, said: “The mother has already taken too much time from the +Queen. I have ordered the news of my arrival to be kept from Cæsarion. +This was well. The most important matters will be settled before our +meeting. Everything relating to me and to the state must be decided within +an hour. But, first, I am something more than mother and Queen. The woman +also asserts her claim. I will find time for you, my friend, to-morrow!—To +my chamber first, Charmian. But you need rest still more than I. Go with +your brother. Send Iras to me. She will be glad to use her skilful fingers +again in her mistress’s service.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch11"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER XI. +</h3> + +<p> +The Queen had left her bath. Iras had arranged the still abundant waves of +her hair, now dark-brown in hue, and robed her magnificently to receive +the dignitaries whom, spite of the late hour of the night, she expected. +</p> +<p> +How wonderfully she had retained her beauty! It seemed as if Time had not +ventured to touch this masterpiece of feminine loveliness; yet the Greek’s +keen eye detected here and there some token of the vanishing spell of +youth. She loved her mistress, yet her inmost soul rejoiced whenever she +detected in her the same changes which began to appear in herself, the +woman of seven-and-twenty, so many years her sovereign’s junior. She would +gladly have given Cleopatra everything at her command, yet she felt as if +she must praise Nature for an act of justice, when she perceived that even +her royal favourite was not wholly relieved from the law which applied to +all. +</p> +<p> +“Cease your flattery,” said Cleopatra, smiling mournfully. “They say that +the works of the Pharaohs here on the Nile flout Time. The inexorable +destroyer is less willing to permit this from the Queen of Egypt. These +are grey hairs, and they came from this head, however eagerly you may deny +it. Whose save my own are these lines around the corners of the eyes and +on the brow? What say you to the tooth which my lips do not hide so kindly +as you assert? It was injured the night before the luckless battle. My +dear, faithful, skilful Olympus, the prince of leeches, is the only one +who can conceal such things. But it would not do to take the old man to +the war, and Glaucus is far less adroit. How I missed Olympus during those +fatal hours! I seemed a monster even to myself, and he—Antony’s eye +is only too keen for such matters. What <i>is</i> the love of men? A blackened +tooth may prove its destruction. An aspect obnoxious to the gaze will pour +water on the fiercest fire. What hours I experienced, Iras! Many a glance +from him seemed an insult, and, besides, my heart was filled with +torturing anxiety. +</p> +<p> +“Something had evidently come between us! I felt it. The trouble began +soon after he left Alexandria. It gnawed my soul like a worm, and now that +I am here again I must see clearly. He will follow me in a few days, I +know. Pinarius Scarpus, with his untouched legions, is in Parætonium, +whither he went. At Tænarum he resolved to retire from the world which +he, on whom it had bestowed so much that is great, hates because he has +given it cause for many a shake of the head. But the old spirit woke +again, and if Fortune, usually so faithful, still aids him, a large force +will soon join the new African army. The Asiatic princes—— But the +ruler of the state must be silent. I entered this room to give the woman +her just rights, and the woman shall have them. He will soon be here. He +cannot live without me. It is not alone the beaker of Nektanebus which +draws him after me!” +</p> +<p> +“When the greatest of the great, Julius Cæsar, sued for your love in +Alexandria, and Antony on the Cydnus, you did not possess the goblet,” +observed Iras. “It is two years since Anubis permitted you to borrow the +masterpiece from the temple treasures, and within a few days you will be +obliged to restore it. That a mysterious spell emanates from the cup is +certain, but one still more powerful dwells in the magic of your own +nature.” +</p> +<p> +“Would that it might assert itself to-day!” cried the Queen. “At any rate +the power of the beaker impelled Antony to do many things. I am not vain +enough to believe that it was love, that it was solely the spell of my own +personality which drew him to me in that disastrous hour. That battle, +that incomprehensible, disgraceful battle! You were ill, and could not see +our fleet when it set sail; but even experienced spectators said that +handsomer, larger vessels were never beheld. I was right in insisting that +the decision of the conflict should be left to them. I was entitled to +call them mine. Had we conquered, what a proud delight it would have been +to say, ‘The weapons which you gave to the man you loved gained him the +sovereignty of the world!’ Besides, the stars had assured me that good +fortune would attend us on the sea. They had given the same message to +Anubis here and to Alexas upon Antony’s galley. I also trusted the spell +of the goblet, which had already compelled Antony to do many things he +opposed. So I succeeded in having the decision of the conflict left to the +fleet, but the prediction was false, false, false!—how utterly, was +to be proved only too soon. +</p> +<p> +“If I had only been told in time what I learned later! After the defeat +people were more loquacious. That one remark of a veteran commander of the +foot-soldiers would probably have sufficed to open my eyes. He had asked +Mark Antony why he fixed his hopes on miserable wood, exclaiming, ‘Let the +Phœnician’s and Egyptians war on the water, but leave <i>us</i> the land where +we are accustomed, with our feet firmly set upon the earth, to fight, +conquer, or die!’ This alone, I am sure, would have changed my resolve in +a happy hour. But it was kept from me. +</p> +<p> +“The conflict began. Our troops had lost patience. The left wing of the +fleet advanced. At first I watched the battle eagerly, with a throbbing +heart. How proudly the huge galleys moved forward! Everything was going +admirably. Antony had made an address, assuring the warriors that, even +without soldiers, our ships would destroy the foe by their mere height and +size. What orator can so carry his hearers with him! I, too, was still +fearless. Who cherishes anxiety when confidently expecting victory? When +he went on board his own ship, after bidding me farewell far less +cordially than usual, I became more troubled. I thought it was evident +that his love was waning. What had I become since we left Alexandria, and +Olympus no longer attended me! Matters could not continue in this way. I +would leave the direction of the war to him, and vanish from his eyes. +After he had looked into the beaker of Nektanebus, he yielded to my will, +but often with indignation. The unconcealed, ineffaceable lines, and the +years, the cruel years!” +</p> +<p> +“What thoughts are these?” cried Iras. “Let me take oath, my sovereign +mistress, that as you stand before me——” +</p> +<p> +“Thanks to this toilet-table and the new compounds of Olympus in these +boxes! At that time, I tell you, I was fairly startled at the sight of my +own face. Trouble does not enhance beauty, and what condemnation the +Romans had heaped on the woman who meddled with war, the craft of man! I +had answers for them, but I would not endure it longer. I had previously +determined to hold aloof from the battle on land; but even at the +commencement of the conflict, spite of its favourable promise, I longed to +leave Antony and return to the children. They do not heed the colour of +their mother’s hair, nor her wrinkles; and he, when he had looked for and +called me in vain, would feel for the first time what he possessed in me, +would miss me, and with the longing the old love would awaken with fresh +ardour. As soon as the fleet had gained the victory I would have the prow +of my galley turned southward and, without a farewell, exclaiming only, +‘We will meet in Alexandria!’ set sail for Egypt. +</p> +<p> +“I summoned Alexas, who had remained with me, and ordered him to give me a +signal as soon as the battle was decided in our favour. I remained on +deck. Then I saw the ships of the foe describing a wide circle. The +<i>nauarch</i> told me that Agrippa was trying to surround us. This roused a +feeling of discomfort. I began to repent having meddled with men’s work. +</p> +<p> +“Antony looked across at me from his galley. I waved my hand to point out +the peril, but instead of eagerly and lovingly answering the greeting, as +of yore, he turned his back, and in a short time after the wildest uproar +arose around me. One ship became entangled with another, planks and poles +shattered with a loud crash. Shouts, the cries and moans of the combatants +and the wounded, mingled with the thunder of the stones hurled by the +catapults, and the sharp notes of the signals which sounded like calls for +help. Two soldiers, stricken by arrows, fell beside me. It was horrible! +Yet my courage remained steadfast, even when a squadron—it was +commanded by Aruntius—pressed upon the fleet. I saw another line of +galleys steering directly towards us, and a Roman vessel assailed by one +of mine—I had named her the Selene—turn on her side and sink. +This pleased me and seemed like the first presage of victory. I again +ordered Alexas to have the ship’s prow turned as soon as the result of the +battle was decided. Ere I had ceased speaking, Jason, the steward—you +know him—appeared with refreshments. I took the beaker, but, ere I +could raise it to my lips, he fell to the deck with a cloven skull, +mingling his blood with the spilled juice of the grape. My blood seemed +fairly to freeze in my veins, and Alexas, trembling and deadly pale, +asked, ‘Do you command us to quit the battle?’ +</p> +<p> +“Every fibre of my being urged me to give the order, but I controlled +myself, and asked the <i>nauarch</i>, who was standing on the bridge before me, +‘Are we gaining the advantage?’ The reply was a positive ‘Yes.’ I thought +the fitting time had come, and called to him to steer the galley +southward. But the man did not seem to understand. Meanwhile the noise of +the conflict had grown louder and louder. So, in spite of Charmian, who +besought me not to interfere in the battle, I sent Alexas to the commander +on the bridge, and while he talked with the grey-bearded seaman, who +wrathfully answered I know not what, I glanced at the nearest ship—I +no longer knew whether it was friend or foe—and as I saw the rows of +restless oars moving in countless numbers to and fro, it seemed as if +every ship had become a huge spider, and the long wooden handles of the +oars were its legs and feet. Each of these monsters appeared to be seeking +to snare me in a horrible net, and when the <i>nauarch</i> came to beseech me to +wait, I imperiously commanded him to obey my orders. +</p> +<p> +“The luckless man bowed, and performed his Queen’s behest. The giant was +turned, and forced a passage through the maze. +</p> +<p> +“I breathed more freely. +</p> +<p> +“What had threatened me like the legs of huge spiders became oars once +more. Alexas led me under a roof, where no missiles could reach me. My +desire was fulfilled. I had escaped Antony’s eyes, and we were going +towards Alexandria and my children. When I at last looked around I saw +that my other ships were following. I had not given this order, and was +terribly startled. When I sought Alexas, he had vanished. The centurion +whom I sent to order the <i>nauarch</i> to give the signal to the other ships to +return to the battle, reported that the captain’s dead body has just been +borne away, but that the command should be given. How this was done I do +not know, but it produced no effect, and no one noticed the anxious waving +of my handkerchief. +</p> +<p> +“We had left Antony’s galley—he was standing on the bridge—far +behind. +</p> +<p> +“I had waved my hand as we passed close by, and he hurried down to bend +far over the bulwark and shout to me. I can still see his hands raised to +his bearded lips. I did not understand what he said, and only pointed +southward and in spirit wished him victory and that this separation might +tend to the welfare of our love. But he shook his head, pressed his hand +despairingly to his brow, and waved his arms as though to give me a sign, +but the Antonias swept far ahead of his ship and steered straight towards +the south. +</p> +<p> +“I breathed more freely, in the pleasant consciousness of escaping a +two-fold danger. Had I remained long before Antony’s eyes, looking as I +did then, it might—— +</p> +<p> +“Wretched blunder of a wretched woman, I say now. But at that time I could +not suspect what a terrible doom I had brought down in that hour upon +ourselves, my children, perhaps the whole world; so I remained under the +thrall of these petty fears and thoughts until wounded men were carried +past me. The sight distressed me; you know how sensitive I am, and with +what difficulty I endure and witness suffering. +</p> +<p> +“Charmian led me to the cabin. There I first realized what I had done. I +had hoped to aid in crushing the hated foe, and now perhaps it was I who +had built for him the bridge to victory, to sovereignty, to our +destruction. Pursued by such thoughts, as if by the Furies, I paced +restlessly to and fro. +</p> +<p> +“Suddenly I heard a loud noise on deck. A crashing blow seemed to shake +the huge ship. We were pursued! A Roman galley had boarded mine! This was +my thought as I grasped the dagger Antony had given me. +</p> +<p> +“But Charmian came back with tidings which seemed scarcely less terrible +than the baseless fear. I had angrily commanded her to leave me because +she had urged me to revoke the command to turn back. Now, deadly pale, she +announced that Mark Antony had left his galley, followed me in a little +five-oared boat, and come on board our ship. +</p> +<p> +“My blood froze in my veins. +</p> +<p> +“He had come, I imagined, to force me to return to the battle and, drawing +a long breath, my defiant pride urged me to show him that I was the Queen +and would obey only my own will, while my heart impelled me to sink at his +feet and beseech him, without heeding me, to issue any order which +promised to secure a victory. +</p> +<p> +“But he did not come. +</p> +<p> +“I sent Charmian up again. Antony had been unable to continue the conflict +when parted from me. Now he sat in front of the cabin with his head +resting on his hands, staring at the planks of the deck like one +distraught. He, he—Antony! The bravest horseman, the terror of the +foe, let his arms fall like a shepherd-boy whose sheep are stolen by the +wolves. Mark Antony, the hero who had braved a thousand dangers, had flung +down his sword. Why, why? Because a woman had yielded to idle fears, +obeyed the yearning of a mother’s heart, and fled? Of all human +weaknesses, not one had been more alien than cowardice to the man whose +recklessness had led him to many an unprecedented venture. And now? No, a +thousand times no! Fire and water would unite sooner than Mark Antony and +cowardice! He had been under the coercive power of a demon; a mysterious +spell had forced him——.” +</p> +<p> +“The mightiest power, love,” interrupted Iras with enthusiastic warmth—“a +love as great and overmastering as ever subjugated the soul of man.” +</p> +<p> +“Ay, love,” repeated Cleopatra, in a hollow tone. Then her lips curled +with a faint tinge of derision, and her voice expressed the very +bitterness of doubt, as she continued: “Had it been merely the love which +makes two mortals one, transfers the heart of one to the other, it might +perchance have borne my timorous soul into the hero’s breast! But no. +Violent tempests had raged before the battle. It had not been possible +always to appear before him in the guise in which we would fain be seen by +those whom we love. Even now, when your skilful hands have served +me—there is the mirror—the image it reflects—seems to +me like a carefully preserved wreck——” +</p> +<p> +“O my royal mistress,” cried Iras, raising her hands beseechingly, “must I +again declare that neither the grey hairs which are again brown, nor the +few lines which Olympus will soon render invisible, nor whatever else +perhaps disturbs you in the image you behold reflected, impairs your +beauty? Unclouded and secure of victory, the spell of your godlike nature——” +</p> +<p> +“Cease, cease!” interrupted Cleopatra. “I know what I know. No mortal can +escape the great eternal laws of Nature. As surely as birth commences +life, everything that exists moves onward to destruction and decay.” +</p> +<p> +“Yet the gods,” Iras persisted, “give to their works different degrees of +existence. The waterlily blooms but a single day, yet how full of vigour +is the sycamore in the garden of the Paneum, which has flourished a +thousand years! Not a petal in the blossoms of your youth has faded, and +is it conceivable that there is even the slightest diminution in the love +of him who cast away all that man holds dearest because he could not +endure to part, even for days or weeks, from the woman whom he +worshipped?” +</p> +<p> +“Would that he had done so!” cried Cleopatra mournfully. “But are you so +sure that it was love which made him follow me? I am of a different +opinion. True love does not paralyze, but doubles the high qualities of +man. I learned this when Cæsar was prisoned by a greatly superior force +within this very palace, his ships burned, his supply of water cut off. In +him also, in Antony, I was permitted to witness this magnificent spectacle +twenty—what do I say?—a hundred times, so long as he loved me with +all the ardour of his fiery soul. But what happened at Actium? That +shameful flight of the cooing dove after his mate, at which generations +yet unborn will point in mockery! He who does not see more deeply will +attribute to the foolish madness of love this wretched forgetfulness of +duty, honour, fame, the present and the future; but I, Iras—and this +is the thought which whitens one hair after another, which will speedily +destroy the remnant of your mistress’s former beauty by the exhaustion of +sleepless nights—I know better. It was not love which drew Antony +after me, not love that trampled in the dust the radiant image of reckless +courage, not love that constrained the demigod to follow the pitiful track +of a fugitive woman.” +</p> +<p> +Here her voice fell, and seizing the girl’s wrist with a painful pressure, +she drew her closer to her side and whispered: +</p> +<p> +“The goblet of Nektanebus is connected with it. Ay, tremble! The powers +that emanate from the glittering wonder are as terrible as they are +unnatural. The magic spell exerted by the beaker has transformed the +heroic son of Herakles, the more than mortal, into the whimpering coward, +the crushed, broken nonentity I found upon the galley’s deck. You are +silent? Your nimble tongue finds no reply. How could you have forgotten +that you aided me to win the wager which forced Antony to gaze into the +beaker before I filled it for him? How grateful I was to Anubis when he +finally consented to trust to my care this marvel of the temple treasures, +when the first trial succeeded, and Antony, at my bidding, placed the +magnificent wreath which he wore upon the bald brow of that crabbed old +follower of Aristoteles, Diomedes, whom he detested in his inmost soul! It +was scarcely a year ago, and you know how rarely at first I used the power +of the terrible vessel. The man whom I loved obeyed my slightest glance, +without its aid. But later—before the battle—I felt how gladly +he would have sent me, who might ruin all, back to Egypt. Besides, I felt—I +have already said so—that something had come between us. Yet, often +as he was on the point of sacrificing me to the importunate Romans, I need +only bid him gaze into the beaker, and exclaim ‘You will not send me +hence. We belong together. Whither one goes, the other will follow!’ and +he besought me not to leave him. The very morning before the battle I gave +him the drinking cup, urging him, whatever might happen, never, never to +leave me. And he obeyed this time also, though the person to whom a magic +spell bound him was a fleeing woman. It is terrible. And yet, have I a +right to execrate the thrall of the beaker? Scarcely! For without the +Magian’s glittering vessel—a secret voice in my soul has whispered +the warning a thousand times during the sleepless nights—he would +have taken another on the galley. And I believe I know this other—I +mean the woman whose singing enthralled my heart too at the Adonis +festival just before our departure. I noticed the look with which his eyes +sought hers. Now I know that it was not merely my old deceitful foe, +jealousy, which warned me against her. Alexas, the most faithful of his +friends, also confirmed what I merely feared—ah! and he told me +other things which the stars had revealed to him. Besides, he knows the +siren, for she was the wife of his own brother. To protect his honour, he +cast off the coquettish Circe.” +</p> +<p> +“Barine!” fell in resolute tones from the lips of Iras. +</p> +<p> +“So you know her?” asked Cleopatra, eagerly. +</p> +<p> +The girl raised her clasped hands beseechingly to the Queen, exclaiming: +</p> +<p> +“I know this woman only too well, and how my heart rages against her! O my +mistress, that I, too, should aid in darkening this hour! Yet it must be +said. That Antony visited the singer, and even took his son there more +than once, is known throughout the city. Yet that is not the worst. A +Barine entering into rivalry with you! It would be too ridiculous. But +what bounds can be set to the insatiate greed of these women? No rank, no +age is sacred. It was dull in the absence of the court and the army. There +were no men who seemed worth the trouble of catching, so she cast her net +for boys, and the one most closely snared was the King Cæsarion.” +</p> +<p> +“Cæsarion!” exclaimed Cleopatra, her pale cheeks flushing. “And his tutor +Rhodon? My strict commands?” +</p> +<p> +“Antyllus secretly presented him to her,” replied Iras. “But I kept my +eyes open. The boy clung to the singer with insensate passion. The only +expedient was to remove her from the city. Archibius aided me.” +</p> +<p> +“Then I shall be spared sending her away.” +</p> +<p> +“Nay, that must still be done; for, on the journey to the country +Cæsarion, with several comrades, attacked her.” +</p> +<p> +“And the reckless deed was successful?” +</p> +<p> +“No, my royal mistress. I wish it had been. A love-sick fool who +accompanied her drew his sword in her defence, raised his hand against the +son of Cæsar, and wounded him. Calm yourself, I beseech you, I conjure +you—the wound is slight. The boy’s mad passion makes me far more +anxious.” +</p> +<p> +The Queen’s pouting scarlet lips closed so firmly that her mouth lost the +winning charm which was peculiar to it, and she answered in a firm, +resolute tone: “It is the mother’s place to protect the son against the +temptress. Alexas is right. Her star stands in the path of mine. A woman +like this casts a deep shadow on her Queen’s course. I will defend myself. +It is she who has placed herself between us; she has won Antony. But no! +Why should I blind myself? Time and the charms he steals from women are +far more powerful than twenty such little temptresses. Then, there are the +circumstances which prevented my concealing the defects that wounded the +eyes of this most spoiled of all spoiled mortals. All these things aided +the singer. I feel it. In her pursuit of men she had at her command all +the means which aid us women to conceal what is unlovely and enhance what +is beautiful in a lover’s eyes, while I was at a disadvantage, lacking +your aid and the long-tested skill of Olympus. The divinity on the ship, +amid the raging of the storm, was forced more than once to appear before +the worshipper ungarlanded, without ornament for the head, or incense.” +</p> +<p> +“But though she used all the combined arts of Aphrodite and Isis, she +could not vie with you, my royal mistress!” cried Iras. “How little is +required to delude the senses of one scarcely more than a child!” +</p> +<p> +“Poor boy!” sighed the Queen, gently. “Had he not been wounded, and were +it not so hard to resign what we love, I should rejoice that he, too, +understands how to plan and act. Perhaps—O Iras, would that it might +be so!—now that the gate is burst open, the brain and energy of the +great Cæsar will enter his living image. As the Egyptians call Horus ‘the +avenger of his father,’ perhaps he may become his mother’s defender and +avenger. If Cæsar’s spirit wakes within him, he will wrest from the +dissembler Octavianus the heritage of which the nephew robbed the son. You +swear that the wound is but a slight one?” +</p> +<p> +“The physicians have said so.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, then we will hope so. Let him enter the conflict of life. We will +afford him ample opportunity to test his powers. No foolish passion shall +prevent the convalescent youth from following his father upward along the +pathway of fame. But send for the woman who ensnared him, the audacious +charmer whose aspirations mount to those I hold dearest. We will see how +she appears beside me!” +</p> +<p> +“These are grievous times,” said Iras, who saw in amazement the Queen’s +eyes sparkle with the confident light of victory. “Grant your foot its +right. Let it crush her! Monsters enough, on whom you cannot set your +foot, throng your path. Hence to Hades, in these days of conflict, with +all who can be quickly removed!” +</p> +<p> +“Murder?” asked Cleopatra, her noble brow contracting in a frown. +</p> +<p> +“If it must be, ay,” replied Iras, sharply. “If possible, banishment to an +island, an oasis. If necessity requires, to the mines with the siren!” +</p> +<p> +“If necessity requires?” repeated the Queen. “I think that means, if it +proves that she has deserved the harshest punishment.” +</p> +<p> +“She has brought it upon herself by every hour of my sovereign’s life +clouded through her wiles. In the mines the desire to set snares for +husbands and sons soon vanishes.” +</p> +<p> +“And people languish in the most terrible torture till death ends their +suffering,” added Cleopatra, in a tone of grave reproof. “No, girl, this +victory is too easy. I will not send even my foe to death without a +hearing, especially at this time, which teaches me what it is to await the +verdict of one who is more powerful. This woman who, as it were, summons +me to battle, shall have her wish. I am curious to see the singer again, +and to learn the means by which she has succeeded in chaining to her +triumphal car so many captives, from boys up to the most exacting men.” +</p> +<p> +“What do you intend, my royal mistress?” cried Iras in horror. +</p> +<p> +“I intend,” said Cleopatra imperiously, “to see the daughter of Leonax, +the granddaughter of Didymus, two men whom I hold in high esteem, ere I +decide her destiny. I wish to behold, test, and judge my rival, heart and +mind, ere I condemn her. I will engage in the conflict to which she +challenged the loving wife and mother! But—this is my right—I +will compel her to show herself to me as Antony so often saw me during the +past few weeks, unaided and unimproved by the arts which we both have at +command.” +</p> +<p> +Then, without paying any further heed to her attendant, she went to a +window, and, after a swift glance at the sky, added quietly: “The first +hour after midnight is drawing to a close. The council will begin +immediately. The matter to be under discussion is a venture which might +save much from the wreck. The council will last two hours, perchance only +one. The singer can wait. Where does she live?” +</p> +<p> +“In the house which belonged to her father, the artist Leonax, in the +garden of the Paneum,” replied Iras hoarsely. “But, O my Queen, if ever my +opinion had the slightest weight with you——” +</p> +<p> +“I desire no counsel now, but demand the fulfilment of my orders!” cried +Cleopatra resolutely. “As soon as those whom I expect are here——” +</p> +<p> +The Queen was interrupted by a chamberlain, who announced the arrival of +the men whom she had summoned, and Cleopatra bade him tell them that she +was on her way to the council chamber. Then she turned again to Iras and +in rapid words commanded her to go at once in a closed carriage, +accompanied by a reliable person, to Barine’s house. She must be brought +to the palace without the least delay—Iras would understand—even +if it should be necessary to rouse her from her sleep. “I wish to see her +as if a storm had forced her suddenly upon the deck of a ship,” she said +in conclusion. +</p> +<p> +Then snatching a small tablet from the dressing-table, she scrawled upon +the wax with a rapid hand: “Cleopatra, the Queen, desires to see Barine, +the daughter of Leonax, without delay. She must obey any command of Iras, +Cleopatra’s messenger, and her companion.” +</p> +<p> +Then, closing the diptychon, she handed it to her attendant, asking: +</p> +<p> +“Whom will you take?” +</p> +<p> +She answered without hesitation, “Alexas.” +</p> +<p> +“Very well,” answered Cleopatra. “Do not allow her a moment for +preparations, whatever they may be. But do not forget—I command you—that +she is a woman.” +</p> +<p> +With these words she turned to follow the chamberlain, but Iras hurried +after her to adjust the diadem upon her head and arrange some of the folds +of her robe. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra submitted, saying kindly, “Something else, I see, is weighing on +your heart.” +</p> +<p> +“O my mistress!” cried the girl. “After these tempests of the soul, these +harassing months, you are turning night into day and assuming fresh +labours and anxieties. If the leech Olympus——” +</p> +<p> +“It must be,” interrupted Cleopatra kindly. “The last two weeks seemed +like a single long and gloomy night, during which I sometimes left my +couch for a few hours. One who seeks to drag what is dearest from the +river does not consider whether the cold bath is agreeable. If we succumb, +it does not matter whether we are well or ill; if, on the contrary, we +succeed in gathering another army and saving Egypt, let it cost health and +life. The minutes I intend to grant to the woman will be thrown into the +bargain. Whatever may come, I shall be ready to meet my fate. I am at one +of life’s great turning points. At such a time we fulfil our obligations +and demands, both great and small.” +</p> +<p> +A few minutes later Cleopatra entered the throne-room and saluted the men +whom she had roused from their slumber in order to lay before them a bold +plan which, in the lowest depths of misfortune, her yearning to offer +fresh resistance to the victorious foe had caused her vigorous, restless +mind to evoke. +</p> +<p> +When, many years before, the boy with whom, according to her father’s +will, she shared the throne, and his guardian Pothinus, had compelled her +to fly from Alexandria, she had found in the eastern frontier of the +Delta, on the isthmus which united Egypt to Asia, the remains of the canal +which the energetic Pharaohs of former times had constructed to connect +the Mediterranean with the Red Sea. +</p> +<p> +Even at that period she had deemed this ruinous work worthy of notice, had +questioned the Ænites who dwelt there about the remains, and even visited +some of them herself during the leisure hours of waiting. +</p> +<p> +From this survey it had seemed possible, by a great expenditure of labour, +to again render navigable the canal which the Pharaohs had used to reach +both seas in the same galleys, and by which, less than five hundred years +before, Darius, the founder of the Persian Empire, had brought his fleet +to his support. +</p> +<p> +With the tireless desire for knowledge characteristic of her, Cleopatra +had sought information concerning all these matters, and in quiet hours +had more than once pondered over plans for again uniting the Grecian and +Arabian seas. +</p> +<p> +Clearly, plainly, fully, with more thorough knowledge of many details than +even the superintendent of the water works, she explained her design to +the assembled professionals. If it proved practicable, the rescued ships +of the fleet, with others lying in the roadstead of Alexandria, could be +conveyed across the isthmus into the Red Sea, and thus saved to Egypt and +withdrawn from the foe. Supported by this force, many things might be +attempted, resistance might be considerably prolonged, and the time thus +gained used in gathering fresh aid and allies. +</p> +<p> +If the opportunity to make an attack arrived, a powerful fleet would be at +her disposal, for which smaller ships also should now be built at Klysma, +on the basis of the experience gained at Actium. +</p> +<p> +The men who had been robbed of their night’s rest listened in amazement +to the melodious words of this woman who, in the deepest disaster, had +devised a plan of escape so daring in its grandeur, and understood how to +explain it better than any one of their number could have done. They +followed every sentence with the keenest attention, and Cleopatra’s +language grew more impassioned, gained greater power and depth, the more +plainly she perceived the unfeigned, enthusiastic admiration paid her by +her listeners. +</p> +<p> +Even the oldest and most experienced men did not consider the surprising +proposal utterly impossible and impracticable. Some, among them Gorgias, +who during the restoration of the Serapeum had helped his father on the +eastern frontier of the Delta, and thus became familiar with the +neighbourhood of Heroonopolis, feared the difficulties which an elevation +of the earth in the centre of the isthmus would place in the way of the +enterprise. Yet, why should an undertaking which was successful in the +days of Sesostris appear unattainable? +</p> +<p> +The shortness of the time at their disposal was a still greater source of +anxiety, and to this was added the information that one hundred and twenty +thousand workmen had perished during the restoration of the canal which +Pharaoh Necho nearly completed. The water way was not finished at that +period, because an oracle had asserted that it would benefit only the +foreigners, the Phœnicians. +</p> +<p> +All these points were duly considered, but could not shake the opinion +that, under specially favourable conditions, the Queen’s plan would be +practicable; though, to execute it, obstacles mountain-high were to be +conquered. All the labourers in the fields, who had not been pressed into +the army, must be summoned to the work. +</p> +<p> +Not an hour’s delay was permitted. Where there was no water to bear the +ships, an attempt must be made to convey them across the land. There was +no lack of means. The mechanics who had understood how to move the +obelisks and colossi from the cataract to Alexandria, could here again +find opportunity to test their brains and former skill. +</p> +<p> +Never had Cleopatra’s kindling spirit roused more eager, nay, more +passionate sympathy, in any counsellors gathered around her than during +this nocturnal meeting, and when at last she paused, the loud acclamations +of excited men greeted her. The Queen’s return, and the tidings of the +lost battle which she had communicated, were to be kept secret. +</p> +<p> +Gorgias had been appointed one of the directors of the enterprise, and the +intellect, voice, and winning charm of Cleopatra had so enraptured him +that he already fancied he saw the commencement of a new love which would +be fatal to his regard for Helena. +</p> +<p> +It was foolish to raise his wishes so high, but he told himself that he +had never beheld a woman more to be desired. Yet he cherished a very warm +memory of the philosopher’s granddaughter, and lamented that he would +scarcely find it possible to bid her farewell. +</p> +<p> +Zeno, the Keeper of the Seal, Dion’s uncle, had questioned him about his +nephew in a very mysterious manner as soon as he entered the council +chamber, and received the reply that the wound in the shoulder, which +Cæsarion had dealt with a short Roman sword, though severe, was—so +the physicians assured them—not fatal. +</p> +<p> +This seemed to satisfy Zeno, and ere Gorgias could urge him to extend a +protecting hand over his nephew, he excused himself and, with a message to +the wounded man, turned his back upon him. +</p> +<p> +The courtier had not yet learned what view the Queen would take of this +unfortunate affair, and besides, he was overloaded with business. The new +enterprise required the issue of a large number of documents conferring +authority, which all passed through his hands. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra addressed a few kind, encouraging words to each one of the +experts who had been entrusted with the execution of her plan. Gorgias, +too, was permitted to kiss her robe, which stirred his blood afresh. He +would fain have flung himself at the feet of this marvellous woman and, +with his services, place his life at her disposal. And Cleopatra noticed +the enthusiastic ardour of his glance. +</p> +<p> +He, too, had been mentioned in the list of Barine’s admirers. There must +be something unusual about this woman! But could she have fired a body of +grave men in behalf of a great, almost impossible deed, roused them to +such enthusiastic admiration as she, the vanquished, menaced Queen? +Certainly not. +</p> +<p> +She felt in the right mood to confront Barine as judge and rival. +</p> +<p> +In the midst of the deepest misery she had spent one happy hour. She had +again felt, with joyous pride, that her intellect, fresh and unclouded, +would be capable of outstripping the best powers, and in truth she needed +no magic goblet to win hearts. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch12"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER XII. +</h3> + +<p> +Barine had been an hour in the palace. The magnificently furnished room to +which she was conducted was directly above the council chamber, and +sometimes, in the silence of the night, the voice of the Queen or the loud +cheers of men were distinctly heard. +</p> +<p> +Barine listened without making the slightest effort to catch the meaning +of the words which reached her ears. She longed only for something to +divert her thoughts from the deep and bitter emotion which filled her +soul. Ay, she was roused to fury, and yet she felt how completely this +passionate resentment contradicted her whole nature. +</p> +<p> +True, the shameless conduct of Philostratus during their married life had +often stirred the inmost depths of her placid, kindly spirit, and +afterwards his brother Alexas had come to drive her, by his disgraceful +proposals, to the verge of despair; rage was added to the passionate +agitation of her soul, and for this she had cause to rejoice—but for +this mighty resentment during the time of struggle she might have, +perhaps, succumbed from sheer weariness and the yearning desire to rest. +</p> +<p> +At last, at last, she and her friends, by means of great sacrifices, had +succeeded in releasing her from these tortures. Philostratus’s consent to +liberate her was purchased. Alexas’s persecution had ceased long before; +he had first been sent away as envoy by his patron Antony, and afterwards +been compelled to accompany him to the war. +</p> +<p> +How she had enjoyed the peaceful days in her mother’s house! How quickly +the bright cheerfulness which she had supposed lost had returned to her +soul!—and to-day Fate had blessed her with the greatest happiness +life had ever offered. True, she had had only a few brief hours in which +to enjoy it, for the attack of the unbridled boys and the wound inflicted +upon her lover had cast a heavy shadow on her bliss. +</p> +<p> +Her mother had again proved to be in the right when she so confidently +predicted a second misfortune which would follow the first only too soon. +</p> +<p> +Barine had been torn at midnight from her peaceful home and her wounded +lover’s bedside. This was done by the Queen’s command, and, full of angry +excitement, she said to herself that the men were right who cursed tyranny +because it transformed free human beings into characterless chattels. +</p> +<p> +There could be nothing good awaiting her; that was proved by the +messengers whom Cleopatra had sent to summon her at this unprecedented +hour. They were her worst enemies: Iras, who desired to wed her lover—Dion +had told her so after the assault—and Alexas, whose suit she had +rejected in a way which a man never forgives. +</p> +<p> +She had already learned Iras’s feelings. The slender figure with the +narrow head, long, delicate nose, small chin, and pointed fingers, seemed +to her like a long, sharp thorn. This strange comparison had entered her +head as Iras stood rigidly erect, reading aloud in a shrill, high voice +the Queen’s command. Everything about this hard, cold face appeared as +sharp as a sting, and ready to destroy her. +</p> +<p> +Her removal from her mother’s house to the royal palace had been swift and +simple. +</p> +<p> +After the attack—of which she saw little, because, overpowered by +fear and horror, she closed her eyes—she had driven home with her +lover, where the leech had bandaged his injuries, and Berenike had quickly +and carefully transformed her own sleeping chamber into a sick-room. +</p> +<p> +Barine, after changing her dress, did not leave Dion’s side. She had +attired herself carefully, for she knew his delight in outward adornment. +When she returned from her grandparents, before sunset, she was alone with +him, and he, kissing her arm, had murmured that wherever the Greek tongue +was spoken there was not one more beautiful. The gem was worthy of its +loveliness. So she had opened her baggage to take out the circlet which +Antony had given, and it again enclasped her arm when she entered the +sick-room. +</p> +<p> +Because Dion had told her that he deemed her fairest in the simple white +robe she had worn a few days before, when there were no guests save +himself and Gorgias, and she had sung until after midnight his favourite +songs as though all were intended for him alone, her choice had fallen +upon this garment. And she rejoiced that she had worn it—the wounded +man’s eyes rested upon her so joyously when she sat down opposite to him. +</p> +<p> +The physician had forbidden him to talk, and urged him to sleep if +possible. So Barine only held his hand in silence, whispering, whenever he +opened his eyes, a tender word of love and encouragement. +</p> +<p> +She had remained with him for hours, leaving her place at his side merely +to give him his medicine, or, with her mother’s aid, place poultices on +his wounds. +</p> +<p> +When his manly face was distorted by suffering, she shared his pain; but +during most of the time a calm, pleasant sense of happiness pervaded her +mind. She felt safe and sheltered in the possession of the man whom she +loved, though fully aware of the perils which threatened him, and, +perhaps, her also. But the assurance of his love completely filled her +heart and cast every care entirely into the shade. Many men had seemed +estimable and agreeable, a few even desirable husbands, but Dion was the +first to awaken love in her ardent but by no means passionate soul. She +regarded the experiences of the past few days as a beautiful miracle. How +she had yearned and pined until the most fervent desire of her heart was +fulfilled! Now Dion had offered her his love, and nothing could rob her of +it. +</p> +<p> +Gorgias and the sons of her uncle Arius had disturbed her a short time. +After they had gone with a good report, Berenike had entreated her +daughter to lie down and let her take her place. But Barine would not +leave her lover’s couch, and had just loosed her hair to brush it again +and fasten the thick, fair braids around her head, when, two hours after +midnight, some one knocked loudly on the window shutters. Berenike was in +the act of removing the poultice, so Barine herself went into the atrium +to wake the doorkeeper. +</p> +<p> +But the old man was not asleep, and had anticipated her. She recognized, +with a low cry of terror, the first person who entered the lighted +vestibule—Alexas. Iras followed, her head closely muffled, for the +storm was still howling through the streets. Last of all a lantern-bearer +crossed the threshold. +</p> +<p> +The Syrian saluted the startled young beauty with a formal bow, but Iras, +without a greeting or even a single word of preparation, delivered the +Queen’s command, and then read aloud, by the light of the lantern, what +Cleopatra had scrawled upon the wax tablet. +</p> +<p> +When Barine, pallid and scarcely able to control her emotion, requested +the messengers who had arrived at so late an hour to enter, in order to +give her time to prepare for the night drive and take leave of her mother, +Iras vouchsafed no reply, but, as if she had the right to rule the house, +merely ordered the doorkeeper to bring his mistress’s cloak without delay. +</p> +<p> +While the old man, with trembling knees, moved away, Iras asked if the +wounded Dion was in the dwelling; and Barine, her self-control restored by +the question, answered, with repellent pride, that the Queen’s orders did +not command her to submit to an examination in her own house. +</p> +<p> +Iras shrugged her shoulders and said, sneeringly, to Alexas: +</p> +<p> +“In truth, I asked too much. One who attracts so many men of all ages can +scarcely be expected to know the abode of each individual.” +</p> +<p> +“The heart has a faithful memory,” replied the Syrian in a tone of +correction, but Iras echoed, contemptuously, “The heart!” +</p> +<p> +Then all were silent until, instead of the doorkeeper, Berenike herself +came hurrying in, bringing the cloak. With pallid face and bloodless lips +she wrapped it around her daughter’s shoulders, whispering, amid floods of +tears, almost inaudible words of love and encouragement, which Iras +interrupted by requesting Barine to follow her to the carriage. +</p> +<p> +The mother and daughter embraced and kissed each other, then the closed +equipage bore the persecuted woman through the storm and darkness to +Lochias. +</p> +<p> +Not a word was exchanged between Barine and the Queen’s messengers until +they reached the room where the former was to await Cleopatra; but here +Iras again endeavoured to induce her to speak. At the first question, +however, Barine answered that she had no information to give. +</p> +<p> +The room was as bright as if it were noonday, though the lights flickered +constantly, for the wind found its way through the thin shutters closing +the windows on both sides of the corner room, and a strong, cold draught +swept in. Barine wrapped her cloak more closely around her; the storm +which howled about the sea-washed palace harmonized with the vehement +agitation of her soul. Whether she had looked within or without, there was +nothing which could have soothed her save the assurance of being loved—an +assurance that held fear at bay. Now, indignation prevented dread from +overpowering her, yet calm consideration could not fail to show her that +danger threatened on every hand. The very manner in which Iras and Alexas +whispered together, without heeding her presence, boded peril, for +courtiers show such contempt only to those whom they know are threatened +with the indifference or resentment of the sovereign. +</p> +<p> +Barine, during her married life with a man devoid of all delicacy of +feeling, and with a disposition as evil as his tongue was ready, had +learned to endure many things which were hard to bear; yet when, after +a remark from Iras evidently concerning her, she heard Alexas laugh, she +was compelled to exert the utmost self-restraint to avoid telling her +enemy how utterly she despised the cowardly cruelty of her conduct. But +she succeeded in keeping silent. Still, the painful constraint she +imposed on herself must find vent in some way, and, as the tortured +anguish of her soul reached its height, large tears rolled down her +cheeks. +</p> +<p> +These, too, were noticed by her enemy and made the target of her wit; but +this time the sarcasm failed to produce its effect upon the Syrian, for, +instead of laughing, he grew grave, and whispered something which seemed +to Barine a reproof or a warning. Iras’s reply was merely a contemptuous +shrug of the shoulders. +</p> +<p> +Barine had noticed long before that her mother, in her fear and +bewilderment, had brought her own cloak instead of her daughter’s, and +this circumstance also did not seem to her foe too trivial for a sneer. +</p> +<p> +But the childish insolence that seemed to have taken possession of one who +usually by no means lacked dignity, was merely the mask beneath which she +concealed her own suffering. A grave motive was the source of the mirth by +which she affected to be moved at the sight of her enemy’s cloak. The +grey, ill-fitting garment disfigured Barine, and she desired that the +Queen should feel confident of surpassing her rival even in outward +charms. No one, not even Cleopatra, could dispense with a protecting wrap +in this cold draught, and nothing suited her better than the purple mantle +in whose delicate woollen fabric black and gold dragons and griffins were +embroidered. Iras had taken care that it lay ready. Barine could not fail +to appear like a beggar in comparison, though Alexas said that her blue +kerchief was marvellously becoming. +</p> +<p> +He was a base-minded voluptuary, who, aided by rich gifts of mind and wide +knowledge, had shunned no means of ingratiating himself with Antony, the +most lavish of patrons. The repulse which this man, accustomed to success, +had received from Barine had been hard to forget, yet he did not resign +the hope of winning her. Never had she seemed more desirable than in her +touching weakness. Even base natures are averse to witnessing the torture +of the defenceless, and when Iras had aimed another poisoned shaft at her, +he ventured, at the risk of vexing his ally, to say, under his breath: +</p> +<p> +“Condemned criminals are usually granted, before their end, a favourite +dish. I have no cause to wish Barine anything good; but I would not grudge +that. You, on the contrary, seem to delight in pouring wormwood on her +last mouthful.” +</p> +<p> +“Certainly,” she answered, her eyes sparkling brightly. “Malice is the +purest of pleasures; at least to me, when exercised on this woman.” +</p> +<p> +The Syrian, with a strange smile, held out his hand, saying: +</p> +<p> +“Keep your good-will towards me, Iras.” +</p> +<p> +“Because,” she retorted with a sneer, “evil may follow my enmity. I think +so, too. I am not especially sensitive concerning myself, but whoever +dares”—here she raised her voice—“to harm one whom I— Just +listen to the cheers! How she carries all hearts with her! Though Fate had +made her a beggar, she would still be peerless among women. She is like +the sun. The clouds which intrude upon her pathway of radiance are +consumed and disappear.” +</p> +<p> +While uttering the last sentence she had turned towards Barine, whose ear +the sharp voice again pierced like a thorn, as she commanded her to +prepare for the examination. +</p> +<p> +Almost at the same moment the door, caught by the wind, closed with a loud +bang. The “introducer”* had opened it, and, after a hasty glance, +exclaimed: +</p> +<div class="footnote"><p> +* Marshal of the court. +</p></div> +<p> +“The audience will not be given in this meeting place for all the winds of +heaven! Her Majesty desires to receive her late visitor in the Hall of +Shells.” +</p> +<p> +With these words he bowed courteously to Barine, and ushered her and her +two companions through several corridors and apartments into a well-heated +anteroom. +</p> +<p> +Here even the windows were thoroughly protected from the storm. Several +body-guards and pages belonging to the corps of the “royal boys” stood +waiting to receive them. +</p> +<p> +“This is comfortable,” said Alexas, turning to Iras. “Was the winter we +have just experienced intended to fill us with twofold gratitude for the +delights of the mild spring in this blessed room?” +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps so,” she answered sullenly, and then added in a low tone: “Here +at Lochias the seasons do not follow their usual course. They change +according to the pleasure of the supreme will. Instead of four, the +Egyptians, as you know, have but three; in the palaces on the Nile they +are countless. What is the meaning of this sudden entry of summer? Winter +would have pleased me better.” +</p> +<p> +The Queen—Iras knew not why—had changed her arrangements for +Barine’s reception. This vexed her, and her features assumed a gloomy, +threatening expression as the young beauty, casting aside her cloak and +kerchief, stood awaiting Cleopatra in a white robe of fine material and +perfect fit. The thick, fair braids, wound simply around her shapely head, +gave her an appearance of almost childish youth, and the sight made Iras +feel as if she, and Cleopatra also, were outwitted. +</p> +<p> +In the dimly lighted atrium of the house near the Paneum garden, she had +noticed only that Barine wore something white. Had it been merely a night +robe, so much the better. But she might have appeared in her present garb +at the festival of Isis. The most careful deliberation could have selected +nothing more suitable or becoming. And did this vain woman go to rest with +costly gold ornaments? Else how did the circlet chance to be on her arm? +Each of Cleopatra’s charms seemed to Iras, who knew them all, like a +valuable possession of her own. To see even the least of them surpassed by +another vexed her; and to behold in yonder woman a form which she could +not deny was no less beautiful, enraged, nay, pierced her to the heart. +</p> +<p> +Since she had known that because of Barine she could hope for nothing more +from the man to whose love she believed she possessed a claim dating from +their childhood, she had hated the young beauty. And now to the many +things which contributed to increase her hostile mood, was added the +disagreeable consciousness that during the last few hours she had treated +her contemptibly. Had she only seen earlier what her foe’s cloak +concealed, she would have found means to give her a different appearance. +But she must remain as she was; for Chairman had already entered. Other +hours, however, would follow, and if the next did not decide the fate of +the woman whom she hated, future ones should. +</p> +<p> +For this purpose she did not need the aid of Charmian, her uncle +Archibius’s sister, who had hitherto been a beloved associate and maternal +friend. But what had happened? Iras fancied that her pleasant features +wore a repellent expression which she had never seen before. Was this also +the singer’s fault? And what was the cause? +</p> +<p> +The older woman’s manner decided the question whether she should still +bestow upon her returned relative the love of a grateful niece. No, she +would no longer put any restraint upon herself. Charmian should feel that +she (Iras) considered any favour shown to her foe an insult. To work +against her secretly was not in her nature. She had courage to show an +enemy her aversion, and she did not fear Charmian enough to pursue a +different course. She knew that the artist Leonax, Barine’s father, had +been Charmian’s lover; but this did not justify her favouring the woman +who had robbed her niece of the heart of the man whom she—as +Charmian knew—had loved from childhood. +</p> +<p> +Charmian had just had a long conversation with her brother, and had also +learned in the palace that Barine had been summoned to the Queen’s +presence in the middle of the night; so, firmly persuaded that evil was +intended to the young woman who had already passed through so many +agitating scenes of joy and sorrow, she entered the waiting-room, and her +pleasant though no longer youthful face, framed in smooth, grey hair, was +greeted by Barine as the shipwrecked mariner hails the sight of land. +</p> +<p> +All the emotions which had darkened and embittered her soul were soothed. +She hastened towards her friend’s sister, as a frightened child seeks its +mother, and Charmian perceived what was stirring in her heart. +</p> +<p> +It would not do, under existing circumstances, to kiss her in the palace, +but she drew Leonax’s daughter towards her to show Iras that she was ready +to extend a protecting hand over the persecuted woman. But Barine gazed at +her with pleading glances, beseeching aid, whispering amid her tears: +“Help me, Charmian. She has tortured, insulted, humiliated me with looks +and words—so cruelly, so spitefully! Help me; I can bear no more.” +</p> +<p> +Charmian shook her kind head and urged her in a whisper to calm herself. +She had robbed Iras of her lover; she should remember that. Cost what it +might, she must not shed another tear. The Queen was gracious. She, +Charmian, would aid her. Everything would depend on showing herself to +Cleopatra as she was, not as slander represented her. She must answer her +as she would Archibius or herself. +</p> +<p> +The kindly woman, as she spoke, stroked her brow and eyes with maternal +tenderness, and Barine felt as if goodness itself had quelled the tempest +in her soul. She gazed around her as though roused from a troubled dream, +and now for the first time perceived the richly adorned room in which she +stood, the admiring glances of the boys in the Macedonian corps of pages, +and the bright fire blazing cheerily on the hearth. The howling of the +storm increased the pleasant sense of being under a firm roof, and Iras, +who had whispered to the “introducer” at the door, no longer seemed like a +sharp thorn or a spiteful demon, but a woman by no means destitute of +charm, who repulsed her, but on whom she had inflicted the keenest pang a +woman’s heart can suffer. Then she again thought of her wounded lover at +home, and remembered that, whatever might happen, his heart did not belong +to Iras, but to her alone. Lastly, she recalled Archibius’s description of +Cleopatra’s childhood, and this remembrance was followed by the conviction +that the omnipotent sovereign would be neither cruel nor unjust, and that +it would depend upon herself to win her favour. Charmian, too, was the +Queen’s confidante; and if the manner of Iras and Alexas had alarmed her, +Charmian’s might well inspire confidence. +</p> +<p> +All these thoughts darted through her brain with the speed of lightning. +Only a brief time for consideration remained; for, even as she bowed her +head on the bosom of her friend, the “introducer” entered the room, +crying, “Her illustrious Majesty will expect those whom she summoned in a +few minutes!” +</p> +<p> +Soon after a chamberlain appeared, waving a fan of ostrich feathers and, +preceded by the court official, they passed through several brilliantly +lighted, richly furnished rooms. +</p> +<p> +Barine again breathed freely and moved with head erect; and when the wide, +lofty folding doors of ebony, against whose deep black surface the inlaid +figures of Tritons, mermaids, shells, fish, and sea monsters were sharply +relieved, she beheld a glittering, magnificent scene, for the hall which +Cleopatra had chosen for her reception was completely covered with various +marine forms, from the shells to coral and starfish. +</p> +<p> +A wide, lofty structure, composed of masses of stalactites and unhewn +blocks of stone, formed a deep grotto at the end of the hall, whence +peered the gigantic head of a monster whose open jaws formed the fireplace +of the chimney. Logs of fragrant Arabian wood were blazing brightly on the +hearth, and the dragon’s ruby glass eyes diffused a red light through the +apartment which, blended with the rays of the white and pink lamps in the +shape of lotus flowers fastened among gold and silver tendrils and groups +of sedges on the walls and ceiling, filling the spacious apartment with +the soft light whose roseate hue was specially becoming to Cleopatra’s +waxen complexion. +</p> +<p> +Several stewards and cup-bearers, the master of the hunt, chamberlains, +female attendants, eunuchs, and other court officials were awaiting the +Queen, and pages who belonged to the Macedonian cadet corps of royal boys +stood sleepily, with drooping heads, around the small throne of gold, +coral, and amber which, placed opposite to the chimney, awaited the +sovereign. +</p> +<p> +Barine had already seen this magnificent hall, and others still more +beautiful in the Sebasteum, and the splendour therefore neither excited +nor abashed her; only she would fain have avoided the numerous train of +courtiers. Could it be Cleopatra’s intention to question her before the +eyes of all these men, women, and boys? +</p> +<p> +She no longer felt afraid, but her heart still throbbed quickly. It had +beat in the same way in her girlhood, when she was asked to sing in the +presence of strangers. +</p> +<p> +At last she heard doors open, and an invisible hand parted the heavy +curtains at her right. She expected to see the Regent, the Keeper of the +Seal, and the whole brilliantly adorned train of attendants who always +surrounded the Queen on formal occasions, enter the magnificent hall. Else +why had it been selected as the scene of this nocturnal trial? +</p> +<p> +But what was this? +</p> +<p> +While she was still recalling the display at the Adonis festival, the +curtains began to close again. The courtiers around the throne +straightened their bowed figures, the pages forgot their fatigue, and all +joined in the Greek salutation of welcome, and the “Life! happiness! +health!” with which the Egyptians greeted their sovereign. +</p> +<p> +The woman of middle height who now appeared before the curtain, and who, +as she crossed the wide hall alone and unattended, seemed to Barine even +smaller than when surrounded by the gay throng at the Adonis festival, +must be the Queen. +</p> +<p> +Ay, it was she! +</p> +<p> +Iras was already standing by her side, and Charmian was approaching with +the “introducer.” The women rendered her various little services: thus Iras +took from her shoulders the purple mantle, with its embroidery of black +and gold dragons. What an exquisite masterpiece of the loom it must be! +</p> +<p> +All the dangers against which she must defend herself flashed swiftly +through Barine’s mind; yet, for an instant, she felt the foolish feminine +desire to see and handle the costly mantle. +</p> +<p> +But Iras had already laid it on the arm of one of the waiting maids, and +Cleopatra now glanced around her, and with a youthful, elastic step +approached the throne. +</p> +<p> +Once more the feeling of timidity which she had had in her girlhood +overpowered Barine, but with it came the memory of the garden of Epicurus, +and Archibius’s assurance that she, too, would have left the Queen with +her heart overflowing with warm enthusiasm had not a disturbing influence +interposed between them. +</p> +<p> +Yet, had this disturbing influence really existed? +</p> +<p> +No. It was created solely by Cleopatra’s jealous imagination. If +she would only permit her to speak freely now, she should hear that Antony +cared as little for her as she, Barine, for the boy Cæsarion. What +prevented her from confessing that her heart was another’s? Iras had +no one to blame save herself if she spoke the truth pitilessly in her +presence. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra now turned to the “introducer,” waving her hand towards the +throne and those who surrounded it. +</p> +<p> +Ay, she was indeed beautiful. How bright and clear was the light of her +large eyes, in spite of the harassing days through which she had passed +and the present night of watching! +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra’s heart was still elated by the reception of her bold idea of +escape, and she approached Barine with gentler feelings and intentions. +She had chosen a pleasanter room for the interview than the one Iras had +selected. She desired a special environment to suit each mood, and as soon +as she saw the group of courtiers who surrounded the throne she ordered +their dismissal. The “introducer,” to carry out the usual ceremonial, +had commanded their presence in the audience chamber, but their attendance +had given the meeting a form which was now distasteful to the Queen. She +wished to question, not to condemn. +</p> +<p> +At so happy an hour it was a necessity of her nature to be gracious. +Perhaps she had been unduly anxious concerning this singer. It even seemed +probable; for a man who loved her like Antony could scarcely yearn for the +favour of another woman. This view had been freshly confirmed by a brief +conversation with the chief Inspector of Sacrifices, an estimable old man, +who, after hearing how Antony had hurried in pursuit of her at Actium, +raised his eyes and hands as if transported with rapture, exclaiming: +“Unhappy Queen! Yet happiest of women! No one was ever so ardently +beloved; and when the tale is told of the noble Trojan who endured such +sore sufferings for a woman’s sake, future generations will laud the woman +whose resistless spell constrained the greatest man of his day, the hero +of heroes, to cast aside victory, fame, and the hope of the world’s +sovereignty, as mere worthless rubbish.” +</p> +<p> +Posterity, whose verdict she dreaded—this wise old reader of the +future was right—must extol her as the most fervently beloved, the +most desirable of women. +</p> +<p> +And Mark Antony? Even had the magic power of Nektanebus’s goblet forced +him to follow her and to leave the battle, there still remained his will, +a copy of which—received from Rome—Zeno, the Keeper of the +Seal, had showed to her at the close of the council. “Wherever he might +die,” so ran the words, “he desired to be buried by the side of +Cleopatra.” Octavianus had wrested it from the Vestal Virgins, to whose +care it had been entrusted, in order to fill the hearts of Roman citizens +and matrons with indignation against his foe. The plot had succeeded, but +the document had reminded Cleopatra that her heart had given this man the +first of its flowers, that love for him had been the sunshine of her life. +So, with head erect, she had crossed the threshold where she was to meet +the woman who had ventured to sow tares in her garden. She intended to +devote only a short time to the interview, which she anticipated with the +satisfaction of the strong who are confident of victory. +</p> +<p> +As she approached the throne, her train left the hall; the only persons +who remained were Charmian, Iras, Zeno, the Keeper of the Seal, and the +“introducer.” +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra cast a rapid glance at the throne, to which an obsequious +gesture of the courtier’s hand invited her; but she remained standing, +gazing keenly at Barine. +</p> +<p> +Was it the coloured rays from the ruby eyes of the dragon in the fireplace +which shed the roseate glow on Cleopatra’s cheeks? It certainly enhanced +the beauty of a face now only too frequently pallid and colourless, when +rouge did not lend its aid; but Barine understood Archibius’s ardent +admiration for this rare woman, when Cleopatra, with a faint smile, +requested her to approach. +</p> +<p> +Nothing more winning could be imagined than the frank kindness, wholly +untinged by condescending pride, of this powerful sovereign. +</p> +<p> +The less Barine had expected such a reception the more deeply it moved +her; nay, her eyes grew dim with grateful emotion, which lent them so +beautiful a lustre, she looked so lovely in her glad surprise, that +Cleopatra thought the months which had elapsed since her first meeting +with the singer had enhanced her charms. And how young she was! The Queen +swiftly computed the years which Barine must have lived as the wife of +Philostratus, and afterwards as the attractive mistress of a hospitable +house, and found it difficult to reconcile the appearance of this blooming +young creature with the result of the calculation. +</p> +<p> +She was surprised, too, to note the aristocratic bearing whose possession +no one could deny the artist’s daughter. This was apparent even in her +dress, yet Iras had roused her in the middle of the night, and certainly +had given her no time for personal adornment. +</p> +<p> +She had expected lack of refinement and boldness, in the woman who was +said to have attracted so many men, but even the most bitter prejudice +could have detected no trace of it. On the contrary, the embarrassment +which she could not yet wholly subdue lent her an air of girlish timidity. +All in all, Barine was a charming creature, who bewitched men by her +vivacity, her grace, and her exquisite voice, not by coquetry and +pertness. That she possessed unusual mental endowments Cleopatra did not +believe. Barine had only one advantage over her—youth. +</p> +<p> +Time had not yet robbed the former of a single charm, while from the Queen +he had wrested many; their number was known only to herself and her +confidantes, but at this hour she did not miss them. +</p> +<p> +Barine, with a low, modest bow, advanced towards the Queen, who commenced +the conversation by graciously apologizing for the late hour at which she +had summoned her. “But,” she added, “you belong to the ranks of the +nightingales, who during the night most readily and exquisitely reveal to +us what stirs their hearts——” +</p> +<p> +Barine gazed silently at the floor a moment, and when she raised her eyes +her voice was faint and timid. “I sing, it is true, your Majesty, but I +have nothing else in common with the birds. The wings which, when a child, +bore me wherever I desired, have lost their strength. They do not wholly +refuse their service, but they now require favourable hours to move.” +</p> +<p> +“I should not have expected that in the time of your youth, your most +beautiful possession,” replied the Queen. “Yet it is well. I too—how +long ago it seems!—was a child, and my imagination outstripped even +the flight of the eagle. It could dare the risk unpunished. Now—— Whoever +has reached mature life is wise to let these wings remain idle. The mortal +who ventures to use them may easily approach too near the sun, and, like +Icarus, the wax will melt from his pinions. Let me tell you this: To the +child the gift of imagination is nourishing bread. In later years we need +it only as salt, as spice, as stimulating wine. Doubtless it points out +many paths, and shows us their end; but, of a hundred rambles to which it +summons him, scarcely one pleases the mature man. No troublesome parasite +is more persistently and sharply rebuffed. Who can blame the ill-treated +friend if it is less ready to serve us as the years go on? The wise man +will keep his ears ever open, but rarely lend it his active hand. To +banish it from life is to deprive the plant of blossoms, the rose of its +fragrance, the sky of its stars.” +</p> +<p> +“I have often said the same things to myself, though in a less clear and +beautiful form, when life has been darkened,” replied Barine, with a faint +blush; for she felt that these words were doubtless intended to warn her +against cherishing too aspiring wishes. “But, your Majesty, here also the +gods place you, the great Queen, far above us. We should often find +existence bare indeed but for the fancy which endows us with imaginary +possessions. You have the power to secure a thousand things which to us +common mortals only the gift of imagination pictures as attainable.” +</p> +<p> +“You believe that happiness is like wealth, and that the happiest person +is the one who receives the largest number of the gifts of fortune,” +answered the Queen. “The contrary, I think, can be easily proved. The +maxim that the more we have the less we need desire, is also false, though +in this world there are only a certain number of desirable things. He who +already possesses one of ten solidi which are to be divided, ought really +to desire only nine, and therefore would be poorer by a wish than another +who has none. True, it cannot be denied that the gods have burdened or +endowed me with a greater number of perishable gifts than you and many +others. You seem to set a high value upon them. Doubtless there may be one +or another which you could appropriate only by the aid of the imagination. +May I ask which seems to you the most desirable?” +</p> +<p> +“Spare me the choice, I beseech you,” replied Barine in an embarrassed +tone. “I need nothing from your treasures, and, as for the other +possessions—— I lack many things; but it is uncertain how the noblest and +highest gifts in the possession of the marvellously endowed favourite of +the gods would suit the small, commonplace ones I call mine, and I know +not——” +</p> +<p> +“A sensible doubt!” interrupted the Queen. “The lame man, who desired a +horse, obtained one, and on his first ride broke his neck. The only +blessing—the highest of all—which surely bestows happiness can +neither be given away nor transferred from one to another. He who has +gained it may be robbed of it the next moment.” +</p> +<p> +The last sentence had fallen from the Queen’s lips slowly and +thoughtfully, but Barine, remembering Archibius’s tale, said modestly, +“You are thinking of the chief good mentioned by Epicurus—perfect +peace of mind.” +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra’s eyes sparkled with a brighter light as she asked eagerly, “Do +you, the granddaughter of a philosopher, know the system of the master?” +</p> +<p> +“Very superficially, your Majesty. My intellect is far inferior to yours. +It is difficult for me thoroughly to comprehend all the details of any +system of philosophy.” +</p> +<p> +“Yet you have attempted it?” +</p> +<p> +“Others endeavoured to introduce me into the doctrines of the Stoics. I +have forgotten most of what I learned; only one thing lingered in my +memory, and I know why—because it pleased me.” +</p> +<p> +“And <i>that?</i>” +</p> +<p> +“Was the wise law of living according to the dictates of our own natures. +The command to shun everything contradictory to the simple fundamental +traits of our own characters pleased me, and wherever I saw affectation, +artificiality, and mannerism I was repelled, while from my grandfather’s +teaching I drew the principle that I could do nothing better than to +remain, so far as life would permit, what I had been as a child ere I had +heard the first word of philosophy, or felt the constraint which society +and its forms impose.” +</p> +<p> +“So the system of the Stoics leads to this end also!” cried the Queen +gaily, and, turning to the companion of her own studies, she added: “Did +you hear, Charmian? If we had only succeeded in perceiving the wisdom and +calm, purposeful order of existence which the Stoics, amid so much that is +perverse, unhealthy, and provocative of contradiction, nevertheless set +above everything else! How can I, in order to live wisely, imitate Nature, +when in her being and action I encounter so much that is contradictory to +my human reason, which is a part of the divine?” +</p> +<p> +Here she hesitated, and the expression of her face suddenly changed. +</p> +<p> +She had advanced close to Barine and, while standing directly in front of +her, her eyes had rested on the gem which adorned her arm above the elbow. +</p> +<p> +Was it this which agitated Cleopatra so violently that her voice lost its +bewitching melody, as she went on in a harsh, angry tone?—“So that +is the source of all this misfortune. Even as a child I detested that sort +of arbitrary judgment which passes under the mask of stern morality. There +is an example! Do you hear the howling of the storm? In human nature, as +well as in the material world, there are tempests and volcanoes which +bring destruction, and, if the original character of any individual is +full of such devastating forces, like the neighbourhood of Vesuvius or +Etna, the goal to which his impulses would lead him is clearly visible. +Ay, the Stoic is not allowed to destroy the harmony and order of things in +existence, any more than to disturb those which are established by the +state. But to follow our natural impulses wherever they lead us is so +perilous a venture, that whoever has the power to fix a limit to it +betimes is in duty bound to do so. This power is mine, and I will use it!” +</p> +<p> +Then, with iron severity, she asked: “As it seems to be one of the demands +of your nature, woman, to allure and kindle the hearts of all who bear the +name of man, even though they have not yet donned the garb of the Ephebi, +so, too, you seem to appear to delight in idle ornaments. Or,”—and as she +spoke she touched Barine’s shoulder—“or why should you wear, during +the hours of slumber, that circlet on your arm?” +</p> +<p> +Barine had watched with increasing anxiety the marked change in the manner +and language of the Queen. She now beheld a repetition of what she had +experienced at the Adonis festival, but this time she knew what had roused +Cleopatra’s jealousy. She, Barine, wore on her arm a gift from Antony. +With pallid face she strove to find a fitting answer, but ere she could do +so Iras advanced to the side of the incensed Queen, saying: “That circlet +is the counterpart of the one your august husband bestowed upon you. The +singer’s must also be a gift from Mark Antony. Like every one else in the +world, she deems the noble Imperator the greatest man of his day. Who can +blame her for prizing it so highly that she does not remove it even while +she sleeps?” +</p> +<p> +Again Barine felt as if a thorn had pierced her; but though the resentment +which she had previously experienced once more surged hotly within her +heart, she forced herself to maintain seemly external composure, and +struggled for some word in answer; but she found none suitable, and +remained silent. +</p> +<p> +She had told the truth. From early youth she had followed the impulses of +her own nature without heeding the opinion of mortals, as the teachings of +the Stoics directed, and she had been allowed to do so because this nature +was pure, truthful, alive to the beautiful, and, moreover, free from those +unbridled, volcanic impulses to which the Queen alluded. The cheerful +patience of her soul had found ample satisfaction in the cultivation of +her art, and in social intercourse with men who permitted her to share +their own intellectual life. Today she had learned that the first great +passion of her heart had met with a response. Now she was bound to her +lover, and knew herself to be pure and guiltless, far better entitled to +demand respect from sterner judges of morality than the woman who +condemned her, or the spiteful Iras, who had not ceased to offer her love +to Dion. +</p> +<p> +The sorrowful feeling of being misunderstood and unjustly condemned, +mingled with fear of the terrible fate to which she might be sentenced by +the omnipotent sovereign, whose clear intellect was clouded by jealousy +and the resentment of a mother’s wounded heart, paralyzed her tongue. +Besides, she was confused by the angry emotion which the sight of Iras +awakened. Twice, thrice she strove to utter a few words of explanation, +defence, but her voice refused to obey her will. +</p> +<p> +When Charmian at last approached to encourage her, it was too late; the +indignant Queen had turned away, exclaiming to Iras: “let her be taken +back to Lochias. Her guilt is proved; but it does not become the injured +person, the accuser, to award the punishment. This must be left to the +judges before whom we will bring her.” +</p> +<p> +Then Barine once more recovered the power of speech. How dared Cleopatra +assert that she was convicted of a crime, without hearing her defence? +As surely as she felt her own innocence she must succeed in proving it, +and with this consciousness she cried out to the Queen in a tone of +touching entreaty: “O your Majesty, do not leave me without hearing me! As +truly as I believe in your justice, I can ask you to listen to me once +more. Do not give me up to the woman who hates me because the man whom she——” +</p> +<p> +Here Cleopatra interrupted her. Royal dignity forbade her to hear one +woman’s jealous accusation of another, but, with the subtle discernment +with which women penetrate one another’s moods, she heard in Barine’s +piteous appeal a sincere conviction that she was too severely condemned. +Doubtless she also had reason to believe in Iras’s hate, and Cleopatra +knew how mercilessly she pursued those who had incurred her displeasure. +She had rejected and still shuddered at her advice to remove the singer +from her path; for an inner voice warned her not to burden her soul now +with a fresh crime, which would disturb its peace. Besides, she had at +first been much attracted by this charming, winning creature; but the +irritating thought that Antony had bestowed the same gift upon the +sovereign and the artist’s daughter still so incensed her, that it taxed +to the utmost her graciousness and self-control as, without addressing any +special person, she exclaimed, glancing back into the hall: “This +examination will be followed by another. When the time comes, the accused +must appear before the judges; therefore she must remain at Lochias and in +custody. It is my will that no harm befalls her.—You are her friend, +Charmian. I will place her in your charge. Only”—here she raised her +voice—“on pain of my anger, do not allow her by any possibility to +leave the palace, even for a moment, or to hold intercourse with any +person save yourself.” +</p> +<p> +With these words she passed out of the hall and went into her own +apartments. She had turned the night into day, not only to despatch +speedily matters which seemed to her to permit of no delay, but even more +because, since the battle of Actium, she dreaded the restless hours upon +her lonely couch. They seemed endless; and though before she had +remembered with pleasure the unprecedented display and magnificence with +which she had surrounded her love-life with Antony, she now in these hours +reproached herself for having foolishly squandered the wealth of her +people. The present appeared unbearable, and from the future a host of +black cares pressed upon her. +</p> +<p> +The following days were overcrowded with business details. +</p> +<p> +Half of her nights were spent in the observatory. She had not asked again +for Barine. On the fifth night she permitted Alexas to conduct her once +more to the little observatory which had been erected for her father at +Lochias, and Antony’s favourite knew how to prove that a star which had +long threatened her planet was that of the woman whom she seemed to have +forgotten as completely as she had ignored his former warning against this +very foe. +</p> +<p> +The Queen denied this, but Alexas eagerly continued: “The night after your +return home your kindness was again displayed in its inexhaustible and—to +us less noble souls—incomprehensible wealth. Deeply agitated, we +watched during the memorable examination the touching spectacle of the +greatest heart making itself the standard by which to measure what is +petty and ignoble. But ere the second trial takes place the wanderers +above, who know the future, bid me warn you once more; for that woman’s +every look was calculated, every word had its fixed purpose, every tone of +her voice was intended to produce a certain effect. Whatever she said or +may yet say had no other design than to deceive my royal mistress. As yet +there have been no definite questions and answers. But you will have her +examined, and then—— What may she not make of the story of Mark +Antony, Barine, and the two armlets? Perhaps it will be a masterpiece.” +</p> +<p> +“Do you know its real history?” asked Cleopatra, clasping her fingers more +closely around the pencil in her hand. +</p> +<p> +“If I did,” replied Alexas, smiling significantly, “the receiver of stolen +goods should not betray the thief.” +</p> +<p> +“Not even if the person who has been robbed—the Queen—commands +you to give up the dishonestly acquired possession?” +</p> +<p> +“Unfortunately, even then I should be forced to withhold obedience; for +consider, my royal mistress, there are but two great luminaries around +which my dark life revolves. Shall I betray the moon, when I am sure of +gaining nothing thereby save to dim the warm light of the sun?” +</p> +<p> +“That means that your revelations would wound me, the sun?” +</p> +<p> +“Unless your lofty soul is too great to be reached by shadows which +surround less noble women with an atmosphere of indescribable torture.” +</p> +<p> +“Do you intend to render your words more attractive by the veil with which +you shroud them? It is transparent, and dims the vision very little. My +soul, you think, should be free from jealousy and the other weaknesses of +my sex. There you are mistaken. I am a woman, and wish to remain one. As +Terence’s Chremes says he is a human being, and nothing human is unknown +to him, I do not hesitate to confess all feminine frailties. Anubis told +me of a queen in ancient times who would not permit the inscriptions to +record ‘she,’ but ‘he came,’ or ‘he, the ruler, conquered.’ Fool! Whatever +concerns me, my womanhood is not less lofty than the crown. I was a woman +ere I became Queen. The people prostrate themselves before my empty +litters; but when, in my youth, I wandered in disguise with Antony through +the city streets and visited some scene of merrymaking, while the men +gazed admiringly at me, and we heard voices behind us murmur, ‘A handsome +couple!’ I returned home full of joy and pride. But there was something +greater still for the woman to learn, when the heart in the breast of the +Queen forgot throne and sceptre and, in the hours consecrated to Eros, +tasted joys known to womanhood alone. How can you men, who only command +and desire, understand the happiness of sacrifice? I am a woman; my birth +does not exalt me above any feeling of my sex; and what I now ask is not +as Queen but as woman.” +</p> +<p> +“If that is the case,” Alexas answered with his hand upon his heart, “you +impose silence upon me; for were I to confess to the woman Cleopatra what +agitates my soul, I should be guilty of a double crime—I would +violate a promise and betray the friend who confided his noble wife to my +protection.” +</p> +<p> +“Now the darkness is becoming too dense for me,” replied Cleopatra, +raising her head with repellent pride. “Or, if I choose to raise the veil, +I must point out to you the barriers——” +</p> +<p> +“Which surround the Queen,” replied the Syrian with an obsequious bow. +“There you behold the fact. It is an impossibility to separate the woman +from the princess. So far as I am concerned, I do not wish to anger the +former against the presumptuous adorer, and I desire to yield to the +latter the obedience which is her due. Therefore I entreat you to forget +the armlet and its many painful associations, and pass to the +consideration of other matters. Perhaps the fair Barine will voluntarily +confess everything, and even add how she managed to ensnare the amiable +son of the greatest of men, and the most admirable of mothers, the young +King Cæsarion.” +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra’s eyes flashed more brightly, and she angrily exclaimed: “I +found the boy just now as though he were possessed by demons. He was ready +to tear the bandage from his wound, if he were refused the woman whom he +loved. A magic potion was the first thought, and his tutor of course +attributes everything to magic arts. Charmian, on the contrary, declares +that his visits annoyed and even alarmed Barine. Nothing except a rigid +investigation can throw light upon this subject. We will await the +Imperator’s return. Do you think that he will again seek the singer? You +are his most trusted confidant. If you desire his best good, and care for +my favour, drop your hesitation and answer this question.” +</p> +<p> +The Syrian assumed the manner of a man who had reached a decision, and +answered firmly: “Certainly he will, unless you prevent him. The simplest +way would be——” +</p> +<p> +“Well?” +</p> +<p> +“To inform him, as soon as he lands, that she is no longer to be found. I +should be especially happy to receive this commission from my royal sun.” +</p> +<p> +“And do you think it would dim the light of your moon a little, were he to +seek her here in vain?” +</p> +<p> +“As surely as that the contrary would be the case if he were always as +gratefully aware of the peerless brilliancy of his sun as it deserves. +Helios suffers no other orb to appear so long as he adorns the heavens. +His lustre quenches all the rest. Let my sun so decree, and Barine’s +little star will vanish.” +</p> +<p> +“Enough! I know your aim now. But a human life is no small thing, and this +woman, too, is the child of a mother. We must consider, earnestly +consider, whether our purpose cannot be gained without proceeding to +extremes. This must be done with zeal and a kindly intention—— But I—— Now, +when the fate of this country, my own, and the children’s is hanging in +the balance, when I have not fifteen minutes at my command, and there is +no end of writing and consulting, I can waste no time on such matters.” +</p> +<p> +“The reflective mind must be permitted to use its mighty wings unimpeded,” +cried the Syrian eagerly. “Leave the settlement of minor matters to +trustworthy friends.” +</p> +<p> +Here they were interrupted by the “introducer,” who announced the eunuch +Mardion. He had come on business which, spite of the late hour, permitted +no delay. +</p> +<p> +Alexas accompanied the Queen to the tablinum, where they found the eunuch. +A slave attended him, carrying a pouch filled with letters which had just +been brought by two messengers from Syria. Among them were some which must +be answered without delay. The Keeper of the Seal and the Exegetus were +also waiting. Their late visit was due to the necessity of holding a +conference in relation to the measures to be adopted to calm the excited +citizens. All the galleys which had escaped from the battle had entered +the harbour the day before, wreathed with garlands as if a great victory +had been won. Loud acclamations greeted them, yet tidings of the defeat at +Actium spread with the swiftness of the wind. Crowds were now gathering, +threatening demonstrations had been made in front of the Sebasteum, and on +the square of the Serapeum the troops had been compelled to interfere, and +blood had flowed. +</p> +<p> +There lay the letters. Zeno remarked that more papers conferring authority +were required for the work on the canal, and the Exegetus earnestly +besought definite instruction. +</p> +<p> +“It is much—much,” murmured Cleopatra. Then, drawing herself up to +her full height, she exclaimed, “Well, then, to work!” +</p> +<p> +But Alexas did not permit her to do this at once. Humbly advancing as she +took her seat at the large writing-table, he whispered: “And with all +this, must my royal mistress devote time and thought to the destroyer of +her peace. To disturb your Majesty with this trifle is a crime; yet it +must be committed, for should the affair remain unheeded longer, the +trickling rivulet may become a mountain torrent——” +</p> +<p> +Here Cleopatra, whose glance had just rested upon a fateful letter from +King Herod, turned her face half towards her husband’s favourite, +exclaiming curtly, with glowing cheeks, “Presently.” +</p> +<p> +Then she glanced rapidly over the letter, pushed it excitedly aside, and +dismissed the waiting Syrian with the impatient words: “Attend to the +trial and the rest. No injustice, but no untimely mildness. I will look +into this unpleasant matter myself before the Imperator returns.” +</p> +<p> +“And the authority?” asked the Syrian, with another low bow. +</p> +<p> +“You have it. If you need a written one, apply to Zeno. We will discuss +the affair further at some less busy hour.” +</p> +<p> +The Syrian retired; but Cleopatra turned to the eunuch and, flushed with +emotion, cried, pointing to the King of Judea’s letter: “Did you ever +witness baser ingratitude? The rats think the ship is sinking, and it is +time to leave it. If we succeed in keeping above water, they will return +in swarms; and this must, must, <i>must</i> be done, for the sake of this beloved +country and her independence. Then the children, the children! All our +powers must now be taxed, every expedient must be remembered and used. We +will hammer each feeble hope until it becomes the strong steel of +certainty. We will transform night into day. The canal will save the +fleet. Mark Antony will find in Africa Pinarius Scarpus with untouched +loyal legions. The gladiators are faithful to us. We can easily make them +ours, and my brain is seething with other plans. But first we will attend +to the Alexandrians. No violence!” +</p> +<p> +This exclamation was followed by order after order, and the promise that, +if necessary, she would show herself to the people. +</p> +<p> +The Exegetus was filled with admiration as he received the clear, +sagacious directions. After he had retired with his companions, the Queen +again turned to the Regent, saying: “We did wisely to make the people +happy at first with tidings of victory. The unexpected news of terrible +disaster might have led them to some unprecedented deed of madness. +Disappointment is a more common pain, for which less powerful remedies +will suffice. Besides, many things could be arranged ere they knew that I +was here. How much we have accomplished already, Mardion! But I have not +even granted myself the joy of seeing my children. I was forced to defer +the pleasure of the companionship of my oldest friends, even Archibius. +When he comes again he will be admitted. I have given the order. He knows +Rome thoroughly. I must hear his opinion of pending negotiations.” +</p> +<p> +She shivered as she spoke, and pressing her hand upon her brow, exclaimed: +“Octavianus victor, Cleopatra vanquished! I, who was everything to Cæsar, +beseeching mercy from his heir. I, a petitioner to Octavia’s brother! Yet, +no, no! There are still a hundred chances of avoiding the horrible doom. +But whoever wishes to compel the field to bear fruits must dig sturdily, +draw the buckets from the well, plough, and sow the seed. To work, then, +to work! When Antony returns he must find all things ready. The first +success will restore his lost energy. I glanced through yonder letter +while talking with the Exegetus; now I will dictate the answer.” +</p> +<p> +So she sat reading, writing, and dictating, listening, answering, and +giving orders, until the east brightened with the approach of dawn, the +morning star grew pale, and the Regent, utterly exhausted, entreated her +to consider her own health and his years, and permit him a few hours’ +rest. +</p> +<p> +Then she, too, allowed herself to be led into her darkened chamber, and +this time a friendly, dreamless slumber closed her weary eyes and held her +captive until roused by the loud shouts of the multitude, who had heard of +the Queen’s return and flocked to Lochias. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch13"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER XIII. +</h3> + +<p> +During these hours of rest Iras and Charmian had watched in turn beside +Cleopatra. When she rose, the younger attendant rendered her the necessary +services. She was to devote herself to her mistress until the evening; for +her companion, who now stood in her way, was not to return earlier. Before +Charmian left, she had seen that her apartments—in which Barine, +since the Queen had placed her in her charge, had been a welcome guest—were +carefully watched. The commander of the Macedonian guard, who years before +had vainly sought her favour, and finally had become the most loyal of her +friends, had promised to keep them closely. +</p> +<p> +Yet Iras knew how to profit by her mistress’s sleep and the absence of her +aunt. She had learned that she would be shut out of her apartments, and +therefore from Barine also. Ere any step could be taken against the +prisoner, she must first arrange the necessary preliminaries with Alexas. +The failure of her expectation of seeing her rival trampled in the dust +had transformed her jealous resentment into hatred, and though she was her +niece, she even transferred a portion of it to Charmian, who had placed +herself between her and her victim. +</p> +<p> +She had sent for the Syrian, but he, too, had gone to rest at a late hour +and kept her waiting a long time. The reception which the impatient girl +bestowed was therefore by no means cordial, but her manner soon grew more +friendly. +</p> +<p> +First Alexas boasted of having induced the Queen to commit Barine’s fate +to him. If he should try her at noon and find her guilty, there was +nothing to prevent him from compelling her to drink the poisoned cup or +having her strangled before evening. But the matter would be dangerous, +because the singer’s friends were numerous and by no means powerless. Yet, +in the depths of her heart, Cleopatra desired nothing more ardently than +to rid herself of her dangerous rival. But he knew the great ones of the +earth. If he acted energetically and brought matters to a speedy close, +the Queen, to avoid evil gossip, would burden him with her own act. +Antony’s mood could not be predicted, and the Syrian’s weal or woe +depended on his favour. Besides, the execution of the singer at the last +Adonis festival might have a dangerous effect upon the people of +Alexandria. They were already greatly excited, and his brother, who knew +them, said that some were overwhelmed with sorrow, and others ready, in +their fury, to rise in a bloody rebellion. Everything was to be feared +from this rabble, but Philostratus understood how to persuade them to many +things, and Alexas had just secured his aid. +</p> +<p> +Alexas had really succeeded in the work of reconciliation. During the +orator’s married life with Barine she had forbidden her brother-in-law the +house, and her husband had quarrelled with the brother who sought his +wife. But after the latter had risen to a high place in Antony’s favour, +and been loaded with gold by his lavish hand, Philostratus had again +approached him to claim his share of the new wealth. And the source from +which Alexas drew flowed so abundantly that his favourite did not find it +difficult to give. Both men were as unprincipled as they were lavish, and +experience taught them that base natures always have at their disposal a +plank with which to bridge chasms. If it is of gold, it will be crossed +the more speedily. Such was the case here, and of late it had become +specially firm; for each needed the other’s aid. +</p> +<p> +Alexas loved Barine, while Philostratus no longer cared for her. On the +other hand, he hated Dion with so ardent a thirst for revenge that, to +obtain it, he would have resigned even the hope of fresh gains. The +humiliation inflicted upon him by the arrogant Macedonian noble, and the +derision which through his efforts had been heaped upon him, haunted him +like importunate pursuers; and he felt that he could only rid himself of +them with the source of his disgrace. Without his brother’s aid, he would +have been content to assail Dion with his slandering tongue; with his +powerful assistance he could inflict a heavier injury upon him, perhaps +even rob him of liberty and life. They had just made an agreement by which +Philostratus pledged himself to reconcile the populace to any punishment +that might be inflicted upon Barine, and Alexas promised to help his +brother take a bloody vengeance upon Dion the Macedonian. +</p> +<p> +Barine’s death could be of no service to Alexas. The sight of her beauty +had fired his heart a second time, and he was resolved to make her his +own. In the dungeon, perhaps by torture, she should be forced to grasp his +helping hand. All this would permit no delay. Everything must be done +before the return of Antony, who was daily expected. Alexas’s lavish +patron had made him so rich that he could bear to lose his favour for the +sake of this object. Even without it, he could maintain a household with +royal magnificence in some city of his Syrian home. +</p> +<p> +On receiving the favourite’s assurance that he would remove Barine from +Charmian’s protection on the morrow, Iras became more gracious. She could +make no serious objection to his statement that the new trial might not, +it is true, end in a sentence of death, but the verdict would probably be +transportation to the mines, or something of the sort. +</p> +<p> +Then Alexas cautiously tested Iras’s feelings towards his brother’s mortal +foe. They were hostile; yet when the favourite intimated that he, too, +ought to be given up to justice, she showed so much hesitation, that +Alexas stopped abruptly and turned the conversation upon Barine. Here she +promised assistance with her former eager zeal, and it was settled that +the arrest should be made the following morning during the hours of +Charmian’s attendance upon the Queen. +</p> +<p> +Iras had valuable counsel to offer. She was familiar with one of the +prisons, whose doors she had opened to many a hapless mortal whose +disappearance, in her opinion, might be of service to the Queen. She had +deemed it a duty, aided by the Keeper of the Seal, to anticipate her +mistress in cases where her kind heart would have found it difficult to +pronounce a severe sentence, and Cleopatra had permitted it, though +without commendation or praise. What happened within its walls—thanks +to the silence of the warder—never passed beyond the portals. If +Barine cursed her life there, she would still fare better than she, Iras, +who during the past few nights had been on the brink of despair whenever +she thought of the man who had disdained her love and abandoned her for +another. +</p> +<p> +As the Syrian held out his hand to take leave, she asked bluntly: +</p> +<p> +“And Dion?” +</p> +<p> +“He cannot be set free,” was the reply, “for he loves Barine; nay, the +fool was on the eve of leading her home to his beautiful palace as its +mistress.” +</p> +<p> +“Is that true, really true?” asked Iras, whose cheeks and lips lost every +tinge of colour, though she succeeded in maintaining her composure. +</p> +<p> +“He confessed it yesterday in a letter to his uncle, the Keeper of the +Seal, in which he entreated him to do his utmost for his chosen bride, +whom he would never resign. But Zeno has no liking for this niece. Do you +wish to see the letter?” +</p> +<p> +“Then, of course, he cannot be set at liberty,” replied Iras, and there +was additional shrillness in her voice. “He will do everything in his +power for the woman he loves, and that is much—far more than you, +who are half a stranger here, suspect. The Macedonian families stand by +each other. He is a member of the council. The bands of the Ephebi will +support him to a man. And the populace?—He lately spoiled the game +of your brother, who was acting for me, in a way.—He was finally dragged +out of the basin of the fountain, dripping with water and overwhelmed with +shame.” +</p> +<p> +“For that very reason his mouth must be closed.” +</p> +<p> +Iras nodded assent, but after a short pause she exclaimed angrily: “I will +help you to silence him, but not forever. Do you hear? Theodotus’s saying +about the dead dogs which do not bite brought no blessing to any one who +followed it. There are other ways of getting rid of this man.” +</p> +<p> +“A bird sang that you were not unfriendly to him.” +</p> +<p> +“A bird? Then it was probably an owl, which cannot see in the daylight. +His worst enemy, your brother, would probably sacrifice himself for his +welfare sooner than I.” +</p> +<p> +“Then I shall begin to feel sympathy for this Dion.” +</p> +<p> +“I saw recently that your compassion surpassed mine. Death is not the +hardest punishment.” +</p> +<p> +“Is that the cause of this gracious respite?” +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps so. But there are other matters to be considered here. First, the +condition of the times. Everything is tottering, even the royal power, +which a short time ago was a wall which concealed many things and afforded +shelter from every assault. Then Dion himself. I have already numbered +those who will support him. Since the defeat at Actium, the Queen can no +longer exclaim to that many-headed monster, the people, ‘You must,’ but ‘I +entreat.’ The others——” +</p> +<p> +“The first considerations are enough; but may I be permitted to know what +my wise friend has awarded to the hapless wight from whom she withdrew her +favour?” +</p> +<p> +“First, imprisonment here at Lochias. He has stained his hands with the +blood of Cæsarion, the King of kings. That is high treason, even in the +eyes of the people. Try to obtain the order for the arrest this very day.” +</p> +<p> +“Whenever I can disturb the Queen with such matters.” +</p> +<p> +“Not for <i>my</i> sake, but to save <i>her</i> from injury. Away with everything which +can cloud her intellect in these decisive days! First, away with Barine, +who spoiled her return home; and then let us take care of the man who +would be capable, for this woman’s sake, of causing an insurrection in +Alexandria. The great cares associated with the state and the throne are +hers; for the minor ones of the toilet and the heart I will provide.” +</p> +<p> +Here she was interrupted by one of Cleopatra’s waiting-maids. The Queen +had awakened, and Iras hastened to her post. +</p> +<p> +As she passed Charmian’s apartments and saw two handsome soldiers, +belonging to the Macedonian body-guard, pacing to and fro on duty before +them, her face darkened. It was against her alone that Charmian was +protecting Barine. She had been harshly reproved by the older woman on +account of the artist’s daughter, who had been the source of so many +incidents which had caused her pain, and Iras regretted that she had ever +confided to her aunt her love for Dion. But, no matter what might happen, +the upas-tree whence emanated all these tortures, anxieties, and +vexations, must be rooted out—stricken from the ranks of the living. +</p> +<p> +Ere she entered the Queen’s anteroom she had mentally pronounced sentence +of death on her enemy. Her inventive brain was now busy in devising means +to induce the Syrian to undertake its execution. If this stone of offence +was removed it would again be possible to live in harmony with Charmian. +Dion would be free, and then, much as he had wounded her, she would defend +him from the hatred of Philostratus and his brother. +</p> +<p> +She entered the Queen’s presence with a lighter heart. The death of a +condemned person had long since ceased to move her deeply. While rendering +the first services to her mistress, who had been much refreshed by her +sleep, her face grew brighter and brighter; for Cleopatra voluntarily told +her that she was glad to have her attendance, and not be constantly +annoyed by the same disagreeable matter, which must soon be settled. +</p> +<p> +In fact, Charmian, conscious that no one else at court would have ventured +to do so, had never grown weary, spite of many a rebuff, of pleading +Barine’s cause until, the day before, Cleopatra, in a sudden fit of anger, +had commanded her not to mention the mischief-maker again. +</p> +<p> +When Charmian soon after requested permission to let Iras take her place +the following day, the Queen already regretted the harsh reproof she had +given her friend, and, while cordially granting the desired leave, begged +her to attribute her angry impatience to the cares which burdened her. +“And when you show me your kind, faithful face again,” she concluded, “you +will have remembered that a true friend withholds from an unhappy woman +whom she loves whatever will shadow more deeply her already clouded life. +This Barine’s very name sounds like a jeer at the composure I maintain +with so much difficulty. I do not wish to hear it again.” +</p> +<p> +The words were uttered in a tone so affectionate and winning, that +Charmian’s vexation melted like ice in the sun. Yet she left the Queen’s +presence anxious and troubled; for ere she quitted the room Cleopatra +remarked that she had committed the singer’s affairs to Alexas. She was +now doubly eager to obtain a day’s freedom, for she knew the unprincipled +favourite’s feelings towards the young beauty, and longed to discuss with +Archibius the best means of guarding her from the worst perils. +</p> +<p> +When at a late hour she went to rest, she was served by the Nubian maid, +who had accompanied her to the court from her parents’ home. She came from +the Cataract, where she had been bought when the family of Alypius +accompanied the child Cleopatra to the island of Philæ. Anukis was given +to Charmian, who at the time was just entering womanhood, as the first +servant who was her sole property, and she had proved so clever, skilful, +apt to learn, and faithful, that her mistress took her, as her personal +attendant, to the palace. +</p> +<p> +Charmian’s warm, unselfish love for the Queen was equalled by Anukis’s +devotion to the mistress who had long since made her free, and had become +so strongly attached to her that the Nubian’s interests were little less +regarded than her own. Her sound, keen judgment and natural wit had gained +a certain renown in the palace, and as Cleopatra often condescended to +rouse her to an apt answer, Antony had done so, too; and since the slight +crook in the back, which she had from childhood, had grown into a hump, he +gave her the name of Aisopion—the female Æsop. All the Queen’s +attendants now used it, and though others of lower rank did the same, she +permitted it, though her ready wit would have supplied her tongue with a +retort sharp enough to respond to any word which displeased her. +</p> +<p> +But she knew the life and fables of Æsop, who had also once been a slave, +and deemed it an honour to be compared with him. +</p> +<p> +When Charmian had left Cleopatra and sought her chamber, she found Barine +sound asleep, but Anukis was awaiting her, and her mistress told her with +what deep anxiety for Barine she had quitted the presence of the Queen. +She knew that the Nubian was fond of the young matron, whom in her +childhood she had carried in her arms, and whose father, Leonax, had often +jested with her. The maid had watched her career with much interest, and +while Barine had been her mistress’s guest her efforts to amuse and soothe +her were unceasing. +</p> +<p> +She had gone every morning to Berenike to ask tidings of Dion’s health, +and always brought favourable news. Anukis knew Philostratus and his +brother, too, and as she liked Antony, who jested with her so kindly, she +grieved to see an unprincipled fellow like Alexas his chief confidant. She +knew the plots with which the Syrian had persecuted Barine, and when +Charmian told her that the Queen had committed the young beauty’s fate to +this man’s keeping her dark face grew fairly livid; but she forced herself +to conceal the terror which the news inspired. Her mistress was also aware +what this choice meant to Barine. But Anukis would have thought it wrong +to disturb Charmian’s sleep by revealing her own distress. It was +fortunate that she was going early the next morning to seek the aid of +Archibius, whom Anukis believed to be the wisest of men; but this by no +means soothed her. She knew the fable of the lion and the mouse, which had +been told in her home long before the time of the author for whom she was +nicknamed, and already more than once she had been in a position to render +far greater and more powerful persons an important service. To soothe +Charmian to sleep and turn her thoughts in another direction, she told her +about Dion, whom she had found much better that day, how tenderly he +seemed to love Barine, and how touchingly patient and worthy of her father +the daughter of Leonax had been. +</p> +<p> +After her mistress had fallen asleep she went to the hall where, spite of +the late hour, she expected to meet some of the servants—sure of +being greeted as a welcome guest. When, a short time later, Alexas’s +body-slave appeared, she filled his wine cup, sat down by his side, and +tried with all the powers at her command to win his confidence. And so +well did the elderly Nubian succeed that Marsyas, a handsome young +Ligurian, after she had gone, declared that Aisopion’s jokes and stories +were enough to bring the dead to life, and it was as pleasant to talk +seriously with the brown-skinned monster as to dally with a fair-haired +sweetheart. +</p> +<p> +After Charmian had left the palace the following morning, Anukis again +sought Marsyas and learned from him for what purpose and at what hour Iras +had summoned Alexas. His master was continually whispering with the +languishing Macedonian. +</p> +<p> +When Anukis returned, Barine seemed troubled because she brought no +tidings from her mother and Dion; but the Nubian entreated her to have +patience, and gave her some books and a spindle, that she might have +occupation in her solitude. She, Anukis, must go to the kitchen, because +she had heard yesterday that the cook had bought some mushrooms, which +might be poisonous; she knew the fungi and wanted to see them. +</p> +<p> +Then, passing into Charmian’s chamber, she glided through the corridor +which connected the apartments of Cleopatra’s confidential attendants, and +slipped into Iras’s room. When Alexas entered she was concealed behind one +of the hangings which covered the walls of the reception-room. +</p> +<p> +After the Syrian had retired and Iras had been called away, Anukis +returned to Barine and said that the mushrooms had really been poisonous, +and of the deadliest species. They had been cooked, and she must go out to +seek an antidote. Since a precious human life might be at stake, Barine +would not wish to keep her. +</p> +<p> +“Go,” said the latter, kindly. “But if you are the old obliging Aisopion, +you won’t object to going a little farther.” +</p> +<p> +“And inquiring at the house near the Paneum garden,” added Anukis. “That +was already settled. Longing is also a poison for a loving heart, and its +antidote is good news.” +</p> +<p> +With these laughing words she left her favourite; but as soon as she was +out of doors her black brow became lined with earnest thought, and she +stood pondering a long time. At last she went to the Bruchium to hire a +donkey to ride to Kanopus, where she hoped to find Archibius. It was +difficult to reach the nearest stand; for a great crowd had assembled on +the quay between the Lochias and the Corner of the Muses, and groups of +the common people, sailors, and slaves were constantly flocking hither. +But she at last forced her way to the spot and, while the driver was +helping her to mount the animal she had chosen, she asked what had +attracted the throng, and he answered: +</p> +<p> +“They are tearing down the house of the old Museum fungus, Didymus.” +</p> +<p> +“How can that be?” cried the startled woman. “The good old man!” +</p> +<p> +“Good?” repeated the driver, scornfully. “He’s a traitor, who has caused +all the trouble. Philostratus, the brother of the great Alexas, a friend +of Mark Antony, told us so. He wanted to prove it, so it must be true. +Hear the shouts, and how the stones are flying! Yes, yes. His +granddaughter and her lover set an ambush for the King Cæsarion. They +would have killed him, but the watch interfered, and now he lies wounded +on his couch. If mighty Isis does not lend her aid, the young prince’s +life will soon be over.” +</p> +<p> +Then, turning to the donkey, he dealt him two severe blows on the right +and left haunches, shouting: “Hi, Grey! It does one good to hear that +royal backs have room for the cudgel too.” +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile, the Nubian was hesitating whether she should not first turn the +donkey to the right and seek Didymus; but Barine was threatened by greater +peril, and her life was of more value than the welfare of the aged pair. +This decided the question, and she rode forward. +</p> +<p> +The donkey and his driver did their best, but they came too late; for in +the little palace at Kanopus, Anukis learned from the porter that +Archibius had gone to the city with his old friend Timagenes, the +historian, who lived in Rome, and seemed to have come to Alexandria as an +envoy. +</p> +<p> +Charmian, too, had been here, but also failed to find the master of the +house, and followed him. Evil tidings—which, owing to the loss of time +involved, might prove fatal. If the donkey had only been swifter! True, +Archibius’s stable was full of fine animals, but who was she that she +should presume to use them? Yet she had gained something which rendered +her the equal of many who were born free and occupied a higher station—the +reputation for trustworthiness and wisdom; and relying upon this, she told +the faithful old steward, as far as possible, what was at stake, and soon +after he himself took her, both mounted on swift mules, to the city and +the Paneum garden. +</p> +<p> +He chose the nearest road thither through the Gate of the Sun and the +Kanopic Way. Usually at this hour it was crowded with people, but to-day +few persons were astir. All the idlers had thronged to the Bruchium and +the harbour to see the returning ships of the vanquished fleet, hear +something new, witness the demonstrations of joy, the sacrifices and +processions, and—if Fortune favoured—meet the Queen and +relieve their overflowing hearts by acclamations. +</p> +<p> +When the carriage turned towards the left and approached the Paneum, +progress for the first time became difficult. A dense crowd had gathered +around the hill on whose summit the sanctuary of Pan dominated the +spacious garden. Anukis’s eye perceived the tall figure of Philostratus. +Was the mischief-maker everywhere? This time he seemed to encounter +opposition, for loud shouts interrupted his words. Just as the carriage +passed he pointed to the row of houses in which the widow of Leonax lived, +but violent resistance followed the gesture. +</p> +<p> +Anukis perceived what restrained the crowd; for, as the equipage +approached its destination, a body of armed youths stopped it. Their +finely-formed limbs, steeled by the training of the Palæstra, and the +raven, chestnut, and golden locks floating around their well-shaped heads, +were indeed beautiful. They were a band of the Ephebi, formerly commanded +by Archibius, and to whose leadership more recently Dion had been elected. +The youths had heard what had occurred—that imprisonment, perhaps +even worse disaster, threatened him. At any other time it would scarcely +have been possible to oppose the decree of the Government and guard their +imperilled friend, but in these dark days the rulers must deal with them. +Though they were loyal to the Queen, and had resolved, spite of her +defeat, to support her cause, as soon as she needed them, they would not +suffer Dion to be punished for a crime which, in their eyes, was an +honour. Their determination to protect him grew more eager with every +vexatious delay on the part of the city council to deal with a matter +which concerned one of their own body. They had not yet decided whether to +demand a full pardon or only a mild sentence for the man who had wounded +the “King of kings,” the son of the sovereign. Moreover, the quiet +Cæsarion, still subject to his tutor, had not understood how to win the +favour of the Ephebi. The weakling never appeared in the Palæstra, which +even the great Mark Antony did not disdain to visit. The latter had more +than once given the youths assembled there proofs of his giant strength, +and his son Antyllus also frequently shared their exercises. Dion had +merely dealt Cæsarion with his clenched fist one of the blows which every +one must encounter in the arena. +</p> +<p> +Philotas of Amphissa, the pupil of Didymus, had been the first to inform +them of the attack and, with fiery zeal, had used his utmost power to +atone for the wrong done to his master’s granddaughter. His appeal had +roused the most eager sympathy. The Ephebi believed themselves strong +enough to defend their friend against any one and, if the worst should +come, they knew they would be sustained by the council, the Exegetus, the +captain of the guard—a brave Macedonian, who had once been an +ornament of their own band—and the numerous clients of Dion and his +family. There was not a single weakling among them. They had already found +an opportunity to prove this; for, though they had arrived too late to +protect Didymus’s property from injury, they had checked the fury of the +mob whose passions Philostratus had aroused, and forced back the crowd +whom the Syrian led to Barine’s dwelling to devote it to the same fate. +</p> +<p> +Another equipage was already standing before the door of Berenike’s house—one +of the carriages which were always at the disposal of the Queen’s +officials—when Anukis left Archibius’s vehicle. Had some of Alexas’s +myrmidons arrived, or was he himself on the way to examine Dion, or even +arrest him? The driver, like all the palace servants, knew Anukis, and she +learned from him that he had brought Gorgias, the architect. +</p> +<p> +Anukis had never met the latter, though, during the rebuilding of +Cæsarion’s apartments, she had often seen him, and heard much of him; +among other things, that Dion’s beautiful palace was his work. He was a +friend of the wounded man, so she need not fear him. +</p> +<p> +When she entered the atrium she heard that Berenike had gone out to drive +with Archibius and his Roman friend. The leech had forbidden his patient +to see many visitors. No one had been admitted except Gorgias and one of +Dion’s freedmen. +</p> +<p> +But time pressed; people of the same rank and disposition understand one +another; the old porter and the Nubian were both loyal to their employers, +and, moreover, were natives of the same country; so it required only a few +words to persuade the door-keeper to conduct her without delay to the +bedside of the wounded man. +</p> +<p> +The freedman, a tall, weather-beaten greybeard, simply clad, who looked +like a pilot, was waiting outside the sick-room. He had not yet been +admitted to Dion’s presence, but this did not appear to vex him, for he +stood leaning quietly against the wall beside the door, gazing at the +broad-brimmed sailor’s hat which he was slowly turning in his hands. +</p> +<p> +Scarcely had Dion heard Anukis’s name, when an eager “Let her come in” +reached her ears through the half-open door. +</p> +<p> +The Nubian waited to be summoned, but her dark face must have showed +distinctly that something important and urgent had brought her here, for +the wounded man added to his first words of greeting the expression of a +fear that she had no good news. +</p> +<p> +Her reply was an eager nod of assent, accompanied by a doubtful glance at +Gorgias; and Dion now curtly told the architect the name of the newcomer, +and assured her that his friend might hear everything, even the greatest +secret. +</p> +<p> +Anukis uttered a sigh of relief and then, in a tone of the most earnest +warning, poured forth the story of the impending danger. She would not be +satisfied when he spoke of the Ephebi, who were ready to defend him, and +the council, which would make the cause of one of its members its own, but +entreated him to seek some safe place of refuge, no matter where; for +powers against whom no resistance would avail were stretching their hands +towards him. Even this statement, however, proved useless, for Dion was +convinced that the influence of his uncle, the Keeper of the Seal, would +guard him from any serious danger. Then Anukis resolved to confess what +she had overheard; but she told the story without mentioning Barine, and +the peril threatening her also. Finally, with all the warmth of a really +anxious heart, she entreated him to heed her warning. +</p> +<p> +Even while she was still speaking, the friends exchanged significant +glances; but scarcely had the last words fallen from her lips when the +giant figure of the freedman passed through the door, which had remained +open. +</p> +<p> +“You here, Pyrrhus?” cried the wounded man kindly. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, master, it is I,” replied the stalwart fellow, twirling his sailor +hat still faster. “Listening isn’t exactly my trade, and I don’t usually +enter your presence uninvited; but I couldn’t help hearing what came +through the door, and the croaking of the old raven drew me in.” +</p> +<p> +“I wish you had heard more cheerful things,” replied Dion; “but the +brown-skinned bird of ill omen usually sings pleasant songs, and they all +come from a faithful heart. But when my silent Pyrrhus opens his mouth so +far, something important must surely follow, and you can speak freely in +her presence.” +</p> +<p> +The sailor cleared his throat, gripped his coarse felt hat in his sinewy +hands, and said, in such a tremulous, embarrassed tone that his heavy chin +quivered and his voice sometimes faltered: “If the woman is to be trusted, +you must leave here, master, and seek some safe hiding-place. I came to +offer one. On my way I heard your name. It was said that you had wounded +the Queen’s son, and it might cost you your life. Then I thought: ‘No, no, +not that, so long as Pyrrhus lives, who taught his young master Dion to +use the oars and to set his first sail—Pyrrhus and his family.’ Why +repeat what we both know well enough? From my first boat and the land on +our island to the liberty you bestowed upon us, we owe everything to your +father and to you, and a blessing has rested upon your gift and our +labour, and what is mine is yours. No more words are needed. You know our +cliff beyond the Alveus Steganus, north of the great harbour—the +Isle of Serpents. It is quickly gained by any one who knows the course +through the water, but is as inaccessible to others as the moon and stars. +People are afraid of the mere name, though we rid the island of the vermin +long ago. My boys Dionysus, Dionichus, and Dionikus—they all have +‘Dion’ in their name—are waiting in the fish market, and when it +grows dusk——” Here the wounded man interrupted the speaker by holding +out his hand and thanking him warmly for his fidelity and kindness, though +he refused the well-meant invitation. He admitted that he knew no safer +hiding-place than the cliff surrounded by fluttering sea-gulls, where +Pyrrhus lived with his family and earned abundant support by fishing and +serving as pilot. But anxiety concerning his future wife prevented his +leaving the city. +</p> +<p> +The freedman however gave him no rest. He represented how quickly the +harbour could be reached from his island, that fish were brought thence +from it daily, and he would therefore always have news of what was +passing. His sons were like him, and never used any unnecessary words; +talking did not suit them. The women of the household rarely left the +island. So long as it sheltered their beloved guest, they should not set +foot away from it. If occasion should require, the master could be in +Alexandria again quickly enough to put anything right. +</p> +<p> +This suggestion pleased the architect, who joined in the conversation to +urge the freedman’s request. But Dion, for Barine’s sake, obstinately +refused, until Anukis, who had long been anxious to go in pursuit of +Archibius, thought it time to give <i>her</i> opinion. +</p> +<p> +“Go with the man, my lord!” she cried. “I know what I know. I will tell +our Barine of your faithful resolution; but how can she show her gratitude +for it if you are a dead man?” +</p> +<p> +This question and the information which followed it turned the scale; and, +as soon as Dion had consented to accompany the freedman, the Nubian +prepared to continue her errands, but the wounded man detained her to give +many messages for Barine, and then she was stopped by the architect, who +thought he had found in her the right assistant for numerous plans he had +in his mind. +</p> +<p> +He had returned early that morning from Heroonpolis, where, with other +members of his profession, he had inspected the newly constructed +waterway. The result of the first investigation had been unfavourable to +the verge of discouragement; and, in behalf of the others, he had gone to +the Queen to persuade her to give up the enterprise which, though so full +of promise, was impracticable in the short time at their disposal. +</p> +<p> +He had travelled all night, and was received as soon as Cleopatra rose +from her couch. He had driven from the Lochias in the carriage placed at +his disposal because he had business at the arsenal and various points +where building was going on, in order to inspect the wall erected for +Antony on the Choma, and the Temple of Isis at the Corner of the Muses, to +which Cleopatra desired to add a new building. But scarcely had he quitted +the Bruchium when he was detained by the crowd assailing the house of +Didymus with beams and rams, and at the same time keeping off the Ephebi +who had attacked them. +</p> +<p> +He had forced his way through the raging mob to aid the old couple and +their granddaughter. The slave Phryx had been busily preparing the boats +which lay moored in the harbour of the seawashed estate, but Gorgias had +found it difficult to persuade the grey-haired philosopher to go with him +and his family to the shore. He was ready to face the enraged rioters and—though +it should cost his life—cry out that they were shamefully deceived +and were staining themselves with a disgraceful crime. Not until the +architect represented that it was unworthy of a Didymus to expose to +bestial violence a life on which helpless women and the whole world—to +whom his writings were guide-posts to the realms of truth—possessed +a claim, could he be induced to yield. Nevertheless, the sage and his +relatives almost fell into the hands of the furious rabble, for Didymus +would not depart until he had saved this, that, and the other precious +book, till the number reached twenty or thirty. Besides, his old deaf +wife, who usually submitted quietly when her defective hearing prevented +her comprehension of many things, insisted upon knowing what was +occurring. She ordered everybody who came near her to explain what had +happened, thus detaining her granddaughter Helena, who was trying to save +the most valuable articles in the dwelling. So the departure was delayed, +and only the brave defence of young Philotas, Didymus’s assistant, and +some of the Ephebi, who joined him, enabled them to escape unharmed. +</p> +<p> +The Scythian guards, which at last put a stop to the frantic rage of the +deluded populace, arrived too late to prevent the destruction of the +house, but they saved Philotas and the other youths from the fists and +stones of the rabble. +</p> +<p> +When the boats had gone farther out into the harbour the question of +finding a home for the philosopher and his family was discussed. +Berenike’s house was also threatened, and the rules of the +museum prevented the reception of women. Five servants had accompanied the +family, and none of Didymus’s learned friends had room for so many guests. +When the old man and Helena began to enumerate the lodgings of which they +could think, Gorgias interposed with an entreaty that they would come to +his house. +</p> +<p> +He had inherited the dwelling from his father. It was very large and +spacious, almost empty, and they could reach it speedily, as it stood on +the seashore, north of the Forum. The fugitives would be entirely at +liberty there, since he had work on hand which would permit him to spend +no time under his own roof except at night. He soon overcame the trivial +objections made by the philosopher and, fifteen minutes after they had +left the Corner of the Muses, he was permitted to open the door of his +house to his guests, and he did so with genuine pleasure. The old +housekeeper and the grey-haired steward, who had been in his father’s +service, looked surprised, but worked zealously after Gorgias had confided +the visitors to their charge. The pressure of business forbade his +fulfilling the duties of host in his own person. +</p> +<p> +Didymus and his family had reason to be grateful; and when the old sage +found in the large library which the architect placed at his disposal many +excellent books and among them some of his own, he ceased his restless +pacing to and fro and forced himself to settle down. Then he remembered +that, by the advice of a friend, he had placed his property in the keeping +of a reliable banker and, though life still seemed dark grey, it no longer +looked as black as before. +</p> +<p> +Gorgias briefly related all this to the Nubian, and Dion added that she +would find Archibius with his Roman friend at the house of Berenike’s +brother, the philosopher Arius. Like himself, the latter was suffering +from an injury inflicted by a reckless trick of Antyllus. Barine’s mother +was there also, so Anukis could inform them of the fate of Didymus and his +brother, and tell them that he, Dion, intended to leave her house and the +city an hour after sunset. +</p> +<p> +“But,” interrupted Gorgias, “no one, not even your hostess Berenike and +her brother, must know your destination.—You look as if you could +keep a secret, woman.” +</p> +<p> +“Though she owes her nickname Aisopion to her nimble tongue,” replied +Dion. +</p> +<p> +“But this tongue is like the little silver fish with scarlet spots in the +palace garden,” said Anukis. “They dart to and fro nimbly enough; but as +soon as danger threatens they keep as quiet in the water as though they +were nailed fast. And—by mighty Isis!—we have no lack of peril +in these trying times. Would you like to see the lady Berenike and the +others before your departure?” +</p> +<p> +“Berenike, yes; but the sons of Arius—they are fine fellows—would +be wise to keep aloof from this house to-day.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes indeed!” the architect chimed in. “It will be prudent for their +father, too, to seek some hiding-place. He is too closely connected with +Octavianus. It may indeed happen that the Queen will desire to make use of +him. In that case he may be able to aid Barine, who is his sister’s child. +Timagenes, too, who comes from Rome as a mediator, may have some +influence.” +</p> +<p> +“The same thoughts entered my poor brain also,” said Anukis. “I am now +going to show the gentlemen the danger which threatens her, and if I +succeed—— Yet what could a serving-woman of my appearance accomplish? +Still—my house is nearer to the brink of the stream than the +dwelling of most others, and if I fling in a loaf, perhaps the current +will bear it to the majestic sea.” +</p> +<p> +“Wise Aisopion!” cried Dion; but the worthy maid-servant shrugged her +crooked shoulders, saying: “We needn’t be free-born to find pleasure in +what is right; and if being wise means using one’s brains to think, with +the intention of promoting right and justice, you can always call me so. +Then you will start after sundown?” +</p> +<p> +With these words she was about to leave the room, but the architect, who +had watched her every movement, had formed a plan and begged her to follow +him. +</p> +<p> +When they reached the next room he asked for a faithful account of Barine +and the dangers threatening her. After consulting her as if she were an +equal, he held out his hand in farewell, saying: “If it is possible to +bring her to the Temple of Isis unseen, these clouds may scatter. I shall +be in the sanctuary of the goddess from the first hour after sunset. I +have some measurements to take there. When you say you know that the +immortals will have pity on the innocent woman whom they have led to the +verge of the abyss, perhaps you may be right. It seems as if matters here +were combining in a way which would be apt to rob the story-teller of his +listener’s faith.” +</p> +<p> +After Aisopion had gone, Gorgias returned to Dion’s room and asked the +freedman to be ready with his boat at a place on the shore which he +carefully described. +</p> +<p> +The friends were again alone. Gorgias had his hands full of work, but he +could not help expressing his surprise at the calm bearing which Dion +maintained. “You behave as if you were going to an oyster supper at +Kanopus,” he said, shaking his head as though perplexed by some +incomprehensible problem. +</p> +<p> +“What else would you have me do?” asked the Macedonian. “The vivid +imagination of you artists shows you the future according to your own +varying moods. If you hope, you transform a pleasant garden into the +Elysian fields; if you fear anything you behold in a burning roof the +conflagration of a world. We, from whose cradle the Muse was absent, who +use only sober reason to provide for the welfare of the household and the +state, as well as for our own, see facts as they are and treat them like +figures in a sum. I know that Barine is in danger. That might drive me +frantic; but beyond her I see Archibius and Charmian spreading their +protecting wings over her head; I perceive the fear of my faction, +including the museum, of the council of which I am a member, of my clients +and the conditions of the times, which precludes arousing the wrath of the +citizens. The product which results from the correct addition of all these +known quantities——” +</p> +<p> +“Will be correct,” interrupted his friend, “so long as the most +incalculable of all factors, passion, does not blend with them—the +passion of a woman—and the Queen belongs to the sex which is +certainly more powerful in that domain.” +</p> +<p> +“Granted! But as soon as Mark Antony returns it will be proved that her +jealousy was needless.” +</p> +<p> +“We will hope so. It is only the misled, deceived, abused Cleopatra whom I +fear; for she herself is matchless in divine goodness. The charm by which +she ensnares hearts is indescribable, and the iron power of her intellect! +I tell you, Dion——” +</p> +<p> +“Friend, friend,” was the laughing interruption. “How high your wishes +soar! For three years I have kept an account of the conflagrations in your +heart. I believe we had reached seventeen; but this last one is equal to +two.” +</p> +<p> +“Folly!” cried Gorgias in an irritated tone: “May not a man admire what is +magnificent, wonderful, unique? She is all these things! Just now—how +long ago is it?—she appeared before me in a radiance of beauty——” +</p> +<p> +“Which should have made you shade both eyes. Yet you have been speaking so +warmly of your young guest, her loving caution, her gentle calmness in the +midst of peril——” +</p> +<p> +“Do you suppose I wish to recall a single syllable?” the architect +indignantly broke in. “Helena has no peer among the maidens of Alexandria—but +the other—Cleopatra—is elevated in her divine majesty above +all ordinary mortals. You might spare me and yourself that scornful curl +of the lip. Had she gazed into your face with those tearful, sorrowful +eyes, as she did into mine, and spoken of her misery, you would have gone +through fire and water, hand in hand with me, for her sake. I am not a man +who is easily moved, and since my father’s death the only tears I have +seen have been shed by others; but when she talked of the mausoleum I was +to build for her because Fate, she knew not how soon, might force her to +seek refuge in the arms of death, my calmness vanished. Then, when she +cumbered me among the friends on whom she could rely and held out her hand—a +matchless hand—oh! laugh if you choose—I felt I know not how, +and kneeling at her feet I kissed it; it was wet with my tears. I am not +ashamed of this emotion, and my lips seem consecrated since they touched +the little white hand which spoke a language of its own and stands before +my eyes wherever I gaze.” +</p> +<p> +Pushing back his thick locks from his brow as he spoke, he shook his head +as though dissatisfied with himself and, in an altered tone, hurriedly +continued: “But this is a time ill-suited for such ebullitions of feeling. +I mentioned the mausoleum, whose erection the Queen desires. She will see +the first hasty sketch to-morrow. It is already before my mind’s eye. She +wished to have it adjoin the Temple of Isis, her goddess—— I proposed +the great sanctuary in the Rhakotis quarter, but she objected—she +wished to have it close to the palace at Lochias. She had thought of the +temple at the Corner of the Muses, but the house occupied by Didymus stood +in the way of a larger structure. If this were removed it would be +possible to carry the street through the old man’s garden, perhaps even to +the sea-shore, and we should have had space for a gigantic edifice and +still left room for a fine garden. But we had learned how the philosopher +loved his family estate. The Queen is unwilling to use violence towards +the old man—— She is just, and perhaps other reasons, of which I am +ignorant, influence her. So I promised to look for another site, though I +saw how much she desired to have her tomb connected with the sanctuary of +her favourite goddess—— Then—I have already told the clever brown +witch—then the immortals, Divinity, Fate, or whatever we call the +power which guides the world and our lives according to eternal laws and +its own mysterious, omnipotent will, permitted a rascally deed, from which +I think may come deliverance for you and a source of pleasure to the Queen +in these days of trial.” +</p> +<p> +“Man, man! Where will this new passion lead you? The horses are stamping +impatiently outside; duty summons the most faithful of men, and he stands +like a prophet, indulging in mysterious sayings!” +</p> +<p> +“Whose meaning and purport, spite of your calm calculations of existing +circumstances, will soon seem no less wonderful to you than to me, whose +unruly artist nature, according to your opinion, is playing me a trick,” +retorted the architect. “Now listen to this explanation: Didymus’s house +will be occupied at once by my workmen, but I shall examine the lower +rooms of the Temple of Isis. I have with me a document requiring obedience +to my orders. Cleopatra herself laid the plans before me, even the secret +portion showing the course of the subterranean chambers. It will cast some +light upon my mysterious sayings if I bear you away from the enemy through +one of the secret corridors. They were right in concealing from you by how +slender a thread, spite of the power of your example in mathematics, the +sword hangs above your head. Now that I see a possibility of removing it, +I can show it to you. Tomorrow you would have fallen, without hope of +rescue, into the hands of cruel foes and been shamefully abandoned by your +own weak uncle, had not the most implacable of all your enemies permitted +himself the infamous pleasure of laying hands on an old man’s house, and +the Queen, in consequence of an agitating message, had the idea suggested +of building her own mausoleum. The corridor”—here he lowered his +voice—“of which I spoke leads to the sea at a spot close beside +Didymus’s garden, and through it I will guide you, and, if possible, +Barine also, to the shore. This could be accomplished in the usual way +only by the greatest risk. If we use the passage we can reach a dark place +on the strand unseen, and unless some special misfortune pursues us our +flight will be unnoticed. The litters and your tottering gait would betray +everything if we were to enter the boat anywhere else in the great +harbour.” +</p> +<p> +“And we, sensible folk, refuse to believe in miracles!” cried Dion, +holding out his wan hand to the architect. “How shall I thank you, you +dear, clever, most loyal of friends to your male friends, though your +heart is so faithless to fair ones? Add that malicious speech to the +former ones, for which I now crave your pardon. What you intend to +accomplish for Barine and me gives you a right to do and say to me +whatever ill you choose all the rest of my life. Anxiety for her would +surely have bound me to this house and the city when the time came to make +the escape, for without her my life would now be valueless. But when I +think that she might follow me to Pyrrhus’s cliff——” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t flatter yourself with this hope,” pleaded Gorgias. “Serious +obstacles may interpose. I am to have another talk with the Nubian later. +With no offence to others, I believe her advice will be the best. She +knows how matters stand with the lofty, and yet herself belongs to the +lowly. Besides, through Charmian the way to the Queen lies open, and +nothing which happens at court escapes her notice. She showed me that we +must consider Barine’s delivery to Alexas a piece of good fortune. How +easily jealousy might have led to a fatal crime one whose wish promptly +becomes action, unless she curbs the undue zeal of her living tools! Those +on whom Fate inflicts so many blows rarely are in haste to spare others. +Would the anxieties which weigh upon her like mountains interpose between +the Queen and the jealous rancour which is too petty for her great soul?” +</p> +<p> +“What is great or petty to the heart of a loving woman?” asked Dion. “In +any case you will do what you can to remove Barine from the power of the +enraged princess—I know.” +</p> +<p> +Gorgias pressed his friend’s hand closely, then, yielding to a sudden +impulse, kissed him on the forehead and hurried to the door. +</p> +<p> +On the threshold a faint moan from the wounded man stopped him. Would he +be strong enough to follow the long passage leading to the sea? +</p> +<p> +Dion protested that he confidently expected to do so, but his deeply +flushed face betrayed that the fever which had once been conquered had +returned. +</p> +<p> +Gorgias’s eyes sought the floor in deep thought. Many sick persons were +borne to the temple in the hope of cure; so Dion’s appearance would cause +no special surprise. On the other hand, to have strangers carry him +through the passage seemed perilous. He himself was strong, but even the +strongest person would have found it impossible to support the heavy +burden of a grown man to the sea, for the gallery was low and of +considerable length. Still, if necessary, he would try. With the +comforting exclamation, “If your strength does not suffice, another way +will be found,” he took his leave, gave Barine’s maid and the wounded +man’s body-slave the necessary directions, commanded the door-keeper to +admit no one save the physician, and stepped into the open air. +</p> +<p> +A little band of Ephebi were pacing to and fro before the house. Others +had flung themselves down in an open space surrounded by shrubbery in the +Paneum garden, and were drinking the choice wine which Dion’s cellarer, by +his orders, had brought and was pouring out for the crowd. +</p> +<p> +It was an animated scene, for the clients of the sufferer, who, after +expressing their sympathy, had been dismissed by the porter, and bedizened +girls had joined the youths. There was no lack of jests and laughter, and +when some pretty young mother or female slave passed by leading children, +with whom the garden was a favourite playground, many a merry word was +exchanged. +</p> +<p> +Gorgias waved his hands gaily to the youths, pleased with the cheerfulness +with which the brave fellows transformed duty into a festival, and many +raised their wine-cups, shouting a joyous “Io” and “Evoe,” to drink the +health of the famous artist who not long ago had been one of themselves. +</p> +<p> +The others were led by a slender youth, the student Philotas, from +Amphissa, Didymus’s assistant, whom the architect, a few days before, had +helped to liberate from the demons of wine. Even while Gorgias was +beckoning to him from the two-wheeled chariot, the thought entered his +mind that yonder handsome youth, who had so deeply wronged Barine and +Dion, would be the very person to help carry his friend through the +low-roofed passage to the sea. If Philotas was the person Gorgias believed +him to be, he would deem it a special favour to make amends for his crime +to those whom he had injured, and he was not mistaken; for, after the +youth had taken a solemn oath not to betray the secret to any one, the +architect asked him to aid in Dion’s rescue. Philotas, overflowing with +joyful gratitude, protested his willingness to do so, and promised to wait +at the appointed spot in the Temple of Isis at the time mentioned. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch14"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER XIV. +</h3> + +<p> +While Gorgias was examining the subterranean chambers in the Temple of +Isis, Charmian returned to Lochias earlier than she herself had expected. +She had met her brother, whom she did not find at Kanopus, at Berenike’s, +and after greeting Dion on his couch of pain, she told Archibius of her +anxiety. She confided to him alone that the Queen had committed Barine’s +fate to Alexas, for the news might easily have led the mother of the +endangered woman to some desperate venture; but even Archibius’s +composure, so difficult to disturb, was not proof against it. He would +have sought the Queen’s presence at once—if necessary, forced his +way to it; but the historian Timagenes, who had just come from Rome, was +expecting him, and he had not returned to his birthplace as a private +citizen, but commissioned by Octavianus to act as mediator in putting an +end to the struggle which had really been decided in his favour at the +battle of Actium. The choice of this mediator was a happy one; for he had +taught Cleopatra in her childhood, and was the self-same quick-witted man +who had so often roused her to argument. His share in a popular +insurrection against the Roman rule had led to his being carried as a +slave to the Tiber. There he soon purchased his freedom, and attained such +distinction that Octavianus entrusted this important mission to the man +who was so well known in Alexandria. Archibius was to meet him at the +house of Arius, who was still suffering from the wounds inflicted by the +chariot-wheels of Antyllus, and Berenike had accompanied Timagenes to her +brother. +</p> +<p> +Charmian did not venture to go there; a visit to Octavianus’s former +teacher would have been misinterpreted, and it was repugnant to her own +delicacy of feeling to hold intercourse at this time with the foe and +conqueror of her royal mistress. +</p> +<p> +She therefore let her brother drive with Berenike to the injured man’s; +but before his departure Archibius had promised, if the worst came, to +dare everything to open the eyes of the Queen, who had forbidden her, +Charmian, to speak in behalf of Barine and thwart the plans of Alexas. +</p> +<p> +From the Paneum garden she was carried to the Kanopic Way and the Jewish +quarter, where she had many important purchases to make for Cleopatra. It +was long after noon when the litter was again borne to Lochias. +</p> +<p> +On the way she had severely felt her own powerlessness. Without having +accomplished anything herself, she was forced to wait for the success of +others; and she had scarcely crossed the threshold of the palace ere fresh +cares were added to those which already burdened her soul. +</p> +<p> +She understood how to read the faces of courtiers, and the door-keeper’s +had taught her that since her departure something momentous had occurred. +She disliked to question the slaves and lower officials, so she refrained, +though the interior of the palace was crowded with guards, officials of +every grade, attendants, and slaves. Many who saw her gazed at her with +the timidity inspired by those over whom some disaster is impending. +Others, whose relations were more intimate, pressed forward to enjoy the +mournful satisfaction of being the first messengers of evil tidings. But +she passed swiftly on, keeping them back with grave words and gestures, +until, before the door of the great anteroom thronged with Greek and +Egyptian petitioners, she met Zeno, the Keeper of the Seal. Charmian +stopped him and inquired what had happened. +</p> +<p> +“Since when?” asked the old courtier. “Every moment has brought some fresh +tidings and all are mournful. What terrible times, Charmian, what +disasters!” +</p> +<p> +“No messenger had arrived when I left the Lochias,” replied Charmian. “Now +it seems as though the old monster of a palace, accustomed to so many +horrors, is holding its breath in dread. Tell me the main thing, at least, +before I meet the Queen.” +</p> +<p> +“The main thing? Pestilence or famine—which shall we call the +worse?” +</p> +<p> +“Quick, Zeno! I am expected.” +</p> +<p> +“I, too, am in haste, and really there is nothing to relate over which the +tongue would care to dwell. Candidus arrived first. Came himself straight +from Actium. The fellow is bold enough.” +</p> +<p> +“Is the army defeated also?” +</p> +<p> +“Defeated, dispersed, deserted to the foe—King Herod with his +legions in the van.” +</p> +<p> +Charmian covered her face with her hands and groaned aloud, but Zeno +continued: +</p> +<p> +“You were with her in the flight. When Mark Antony left you, he sailed +with the ships which joined him for Parætonium. A large body of troops on +which the Queen and Mardion had fixed their hopes was encamped there. +Reinforcements could easily be gained and we should once more have a fine +army at our disposal.” +</p> +<p> +“Pinarius Scarpus, a cautious soldier, was in command; and I, too, +believed——” +</p> +<p> +“The more you trusted him, the greater would be your error. The shameless +rascal—he owes everything to Antony—had received tidings of +Actium ere the ships arrived, and had already made overtures to Octavianus +when the Imperator came. The veterans who opposed the treachery were hewn +down by the wretch’s orders, but the brave garrison of the city could not +be won over to the monstrous crime. It is due to these men that Mark +Antony still lives and did not come to a miserable end at the hands of his +own troops. The twice-defeated general—a courier brought the news—will +arrive to-night. Strangely enough, he will not come to Lochias, but to the +little palace on the Choma.” +</p> +<p> +“Poor, poor Queen!” cried Charmian; “how did she bear all this?” +</p> +<p> +“In the presence of the defeated Candidus and Antony’s messenger like a +heroine. But afterwards—— Her raving did not last long; but the +mute, despairing silence!—— Ere she had fully recovered her self-command she +sent us all away, and I have not seen her since. But all the thoughts and +feelings which dwell here”—he pointed to his brow and breast—“have +left their abode and linger with her. I totter from place to place like a +soulless body. O Charmian! what has befallen us? Where are the days when +care and trouble lay buried with the other dead—the days and nights +when my brain united with that of the Queen to transform this desolate +earth into the beautiful Elysian Fields, every-day life to a festival, +festivals to the very air of Olympus? What unprecedented scenes of +splendour had I not devised for the celebration of the victory, the +triumph—nay, even the entry into Rome! Whole chests are filled with +the sketches, programmes, drawings, and verses. All who handle brush and +chisel, compose and execute music, would have lent their aid, and—you +may believe me—the result would have been something which future +generations would have discussed, lauded, and extolled in song. And now—now?” +</p> +<p> +“Now we will double our efforts to save what is yet to be rescued!” +</p> +<p> +“Rescued?” repeated the courtier in a hollow tone. “The Queen, too, still +clings to this fine word. When I saw her at work yesterday, it seemed as +if I beheld her drawing water with the bottomless vessel of the Danaides. +True, today, when I left her, her arms had fallen—and in this +attitude she now stands before me with her tearful eyes. And besides, I +can’t get my nephew Dion out of my mind. Cares—nothing but cares +concerning him! And my intentions towards him were so kind! My will gives +him my entire fortune; but now he actually wants to marry the singer, the +daughter of the artist Leonax. You have taken her under your protection, +but surely your own niece, Iras, is dearer to you, so you will approve of +my destroying the will if Dion insists upon his own way. He shall not have +a solidus of my property if he does not give up the woman who is a thorn +in the Queen’s flesh. And his choice does not suit our ancient race. Iras, +on the contrary, was Dion’s playfellow, and I have long destined her for +his wife. No better match, nor one more acceptable to the Queen, could be +found for him. He cared for her until the singer bewitched him. Bring them +together, and they shall be like my own children. If the fool resists his +uncle, whose sole desire is to benefit him, I will withdraw my aid. +Whatever intrigues his foes may weave, I shall fold my arms and not +interfere. I stand in the place of his father, my dead brother, and demand +obedience. The Queen is my universe, and her favour is of more value than +twenty refractory nephews.” +</p> +<p> +“You will retain her Majesty’s favour, even if you intercede for your +brother’s son.” +</p> +<p> +“And Iras? When she finds herself deceived—and she will soon +discover it—she will not rest——” +</p> +<p> +“Until she has brought ruin upon him,” interrupted Charmian, in a tone of +sorrow rather than reproach as though she already beheld the impending +disaster. “But Iras has no greater influence with the Queen than I, and if +you and I unite to protect the brave young fellow, who is of your own +blood——” +</p> +<p> +“Then, of course—no doubt, on account of your longer period of +service, you have more influence with her Majesty than Iras—however—such +matters must be considered—and I have already said—my mind +leaves its abode to follow the Queen like her shadow. It heeds only what +concerns her. Let everything else go as it will. The fleet the same as +destroyed, Candidus defeated, Herod a deserter, treason on treason—the +African legions lost! What in the name of the god who tried to roll back +the wheel dashing down the mountain-side!—— And yet! Let us offer +sacrifices, my friend, and hope for better days!” +</p> +<p> +Zeno retired as he spoke, but Charmian moved forward with a drooping head +to find Barine and her faithful Anukis, and weep her fill ere she went to +perform the duty of consoling and sustaining her beloved mistress. Yet she +herself so sorely needed comfort. Wherever she turned her eyes she beheld +disaster, peril, treachery, and base intrigues. She felt as if she had +lived long enough, and that her day was over. Hitherto her gentle nature, +her intellect, which yearned to expand, gather new riches, and exchange +what it had gained with others, had possessed much to offer to the Queen. +She had not only been Cleopatra’s confidante, but necessary to her to +discuss questions far in advance of the demands of the times, which +occupied her restless mind. Now the Queen’s attention was wholly absorbed +by events—hard, cruel facts—which she must resist or turn to +her own advantage. Her life had become a conflict, and Charmian felt that +she was by no means combative. The hard, supple, keenly polished intellect +of Iras now asserted its value, and the elderly woman told herself that +she was in danger of being held in less regard than her younger companion. +To resign her office would have given her peace of mind, but she repelled +the thought. For the very reason that these days were so full of misery +and perhaps drawing nearer to the end, she must remain, first for the sake +of the Queen, but also to watch over Barine. +</p> +<p> +Now she longed to go to Cleopatra. Her mere presence, she knew, would do +her sore heart good. +</p> +<p> +The silvery laugh of a child reached her ears through the open gate of +the garden which she was rapidly approaching. Little six-year-old +Alexander ran towards her with open arms, hugged her closely, pressed his +curly head against her, and gazed into her face with his large clear eyes. +</p> +<p> +Charmian’s heart swelled; and as she raised the child in her arms and +kissed him, she thought of the sad fate impending, and the composure +maintained with so much difficulty gave way; tears streamed from her eyes +and, sobbing violently, she pressed the boy closer to her breast. +</p> +<p> +The prince, accustomed to bright faces and tender caresses, broke away +from her in terror to run back to his brother and sisters. But he had a +kind little heart, and, knowing that no one weeps and sobs unless in pain, +Alexander pitied Charmian, whom he loved, and hurried to her again. +</p> +<p> +What he meant to show her had pleased his mother, too, and dried the tears +in her eyes. So he took Charmian by the hand and drew her along, saying +that he wanted her to see the prettiest thing. She willingly allowed +herself to be led over the paths, strewn with red sand, of the little +garden which Antony had had laid out for his children in the magnificent +style which pleased his love of splendour, and filled with rare and +beautiful things. +</p> +<p> +There was a pond with tiny gold and silver fish, where the rare lotus +flowers with pink blossoms arose from amid their smooth green leaves, and +another where dwarf ducks of every colour, which seemed as if they had +been created for children, swam to and fro. A bit of the sea which washed +its shore had been enclosed by a gilded latticework, and on its surface +floated a number of snow-white swans and black ones with scarlet bills. +Native and Indian flowers of every hue adorned the beds, and the narrow +paths were shaded by arbours made of gold wire, over which ran climbing +vines filled with bright blossoms. +</p> +<p> +A grotto of stalactites behind the dense foliage of an Indian tree offered +a resting-place, and beside it was a little house where the children could +stay. The interior lacked none of the requisites of living, not even the +cooking utensils in the kitchen, and the family portraits in the tablinum, +delicately painted by an artist on small ivory slabs. Everything was made +to suit the size of children, but of the most costly material and careful +workmanship. +</p> +<p> +Behind the house was a little stable where four tiny horses with spotted +skins, the rarest and prettiest creatures imaginable—a gift from the +King of Media—were stamping the ground. +</p> +<p> +In another place was an enclosure containing gazelles, ostriches, young +giraffes, and other grass-eating animals. Bright-plumaged birds and +monkeys filled the tops of the trees, gay balls rose and fell on the jets +of the fountains, and child genii and images of the gods in bronze and +marble peered from the foliage. This whole enchanted world was comprised +within a narrow space, and, with its radiance of colour and wealth of +form, its perfume, songs, and warbling, exerted a bewildering influence +upon the excited imaginations of grown people as well as children. +</p> +<p> +Little Alexander, without even casting a glance at all this, drew Charmian +forward. He did not pause until he reached the shore of the lotus pond; +then, putting his fingers on his lips, he said: “There, now, I’ll show +you. Look here!” +</p> +<p> +Rising cautiously upon tip-toe as he spoke, he pointed to the hollow in +the trunk of a tree. A pair of finches had built their nest in it, and +five young ones with big yellow beaks stretched their ugly little heads +hungrily upward. +</p> +<p> +“That’s so pretty!” cried the prince. “And you must see the old ones come +to feed them.” +</p> +<p> +The beautiful boy’s sweet face fairly beamed with delight, and Charmian +kissed him tenderly. Yet, even as she did so, she thought of the young +swallows hacked to death in his mother’s galley, and a chill ran +through her veins. +</p> +<p> +Just at that moment voices were heard calling Alexander from a neglected +spot behind the dainty little house built for the children, and the boy +exclaimed peevishly: +</p> +<p> +“There, now, I showed you the little nest, so I forgot. Agatha fell asleep +and Smerdis went away, so we were alone. Then they sent me to Horus, the +gate-keeper, to get some of his spelt bread. He never says no to anything, +and it does taste so good. We’re peasants, and have been using the axe and +the hoe, so we want something to eat. Have you seen our house? We built it +ourselves. Selene, Helios, Jotape, my future wife, and I—yes, I! +They let me help, and we finished it alone, all alone! Everything is here. +We shall build the shed for the cow to-morrow. The others mustn’t see it, +but I may show it to you.” +</p> +<p> +While speaking, he drew her forward again, and Charmian obediently +followed. The twins and little Jotape, who had been chosen for the future +bride of the six-year-old Prince Alexander—a pretty, delicate, fair-haired +child of his own age, the daughter of the Median king, who had been +betrothed to the boy after the Parthian war, and now remained as a hostage +at Cleopatra’s court—welcomed her with joyous shouts. With the +exception of the little Median princess, Charmian had witnessed their +birth, and they all loved her dearly. +</p> +<p> +The little royal labourers showed their work with proud delight, and it +really was well done. They had toiled at it for weeks, paying no heed to +the garden and all its costly rarities. They pointed with special pride +to the two planks which Helios, aided by Alexander, had fished out of +the sea after the last storm, when they were left alone, and to the lock +on the door which they had secretly managed to wrench from an old gate. +Selene herself had woven the curtain in front of the door. Now they were +going to build a hearth too. +</p> +<p> +Charmian praised their skill, while they—all talking merrily +together—told her how they had conquered the greatest difficulties. +Their bright eyes sparkled with pleasure while describing the work of +their own hands, and they were so absorbed in eager delight that they did +not notice the approach of a man until startled by his words: “Enough of +this idle sport now, your Highnesses. Too much time has already been +wasted on it.” +</p> +<p> +Then, turning to the Queen, who had accompanied him, he continued in a +tone of apology: “This amusement might seem somewhat hazardous, yet there +is much to be said in its favour. Besides, it appeared to afford the royal +children so much pleasure that I permitted it for a short time. But if +your Majesty commands——” +</p> +<p> +“Let them have their pleasure,” the Queen interrupted kindly; and as soon +as the children saw their mother they rushed forward, crowded around her +with fearless love, thanked her, and eagerly assured her that nothing in +the whole garden was half so dear to them as their little house. They +meant to build a stable too. +</p> +<p> +“That might be too much,” said the tutor Euphronion, a grey-haired man +with a shrewd, kindly face. “We must remember how many things are yet to +be learned, that we may reach the goal fixed for your Majesty’s birthday +and pass the examination.” +</p> +<p> +But all the children now joined in the entreaty to be allowed to build the +stable too, and it was granted. +</p> +<p> +When the tutor at last began to lead them away, the royal mother stopped +them, asking: +</p> +<p> +“Suppose, instead of this garden, I should give you a bit of bare land, +such as the peasants till, where, after your lessons, you might +dig and build as much as you please?” +</p> +<p> +Loud shouts of joy from the children answered the question; but the little +Median girl, Jotape, said hesitatingly: +</p> +<p> +“Could I take my doll too—only the oldest, Atossa? She has lost one +arm, yet I love her the best.” +</p> +<p> +“Deprive us of anything you choose!” cried Helios, drawing little +Alexander towards him, to show that they, the men, were of the same mind, +“only give us some ground and let us build.” +</p> +<p> +“We will consider whether it can be done,” replied Cleopatra. “Perhaps, +Euphronion, you would be the right person—— But we will discuss the +matter at a more quiet hour.” +</p> +<p> +The tutor withdrew and the children, who followed, looked back, waving +their hands and calling to their mother for a long time. +</p> +<p> +When they had disappeared behind the shrubbery in the garden Charmian +exclaimed, “However dark the sky may be, so long as you possess these +little ones you can never lack sunshine.” +</p> +<p> +“If,” replied Cleopatra, gazing pensively at the ground, “with a thought +of them another did not blend which makes the gloom become deeper still. +You know the tidings this terrible day has brought?” +</p> +<p> +“All,” replied Charmian, sighing heavily. +</p> +<p> +“Then you know the abyss on whose verge we are walking; and to see them—them +also dragged into the yawning gulf by their unhappy mother—O, +Charmian, Charmian!” +</p> +<p> +She sobbed aloud, threw her arms around the neck of her friend and +playfellow, and laid her head upon her bosom like a child seeking +consolation. Cleopatra wept for several minutes, and when she again raised +her tear-stained face she said softly: +</p> +<p> +“That did me good! O, Charmian! no one needs love as I do. On your warm +heart my own has already grown calmer.” +</p> +<p> +“Use it, nestle there whenever you need it, to the end,” cried Charmian, +deeply moved. +</p> +<p> +“To the end,” repeated Cleopatra, wiping her eyes. “It began to-day, I +think. I have just spent an hour alone. I meant to commit a crime, and you +know how impatiently passion sweeps me along. But what misfortunes have +assailed me! The army destroyed; the desertion of Herod and Pinarius; +Antony’s generous, trusting heart torn by base treachery, his soul +darkened; the reconstruction of the canal, the last hope—Gorgias +brought the news—the same as destroyed. Just then little Alexander +came to show me his bird’s nest. Everything else in the garden seemed to +him worthless by comparison. This awakened new thoughts, and now here is +the little house which the children have built with their own hands. All +these things forced me by some mysterious power to look back along the +course of my life to the distant days in your father’s house—I—— These +children! Upon what different foundations our lives have been built! I +made them begin at the point I had gained when youth lay behind me. <i>My</i> +childhood commenced among the disorders of the government, clouded by my +father’s exile and my mother’s death, on the brink of ruin. That of the +twins—they are ten years old—will soon be over—and now, +after enjoying pleasures not one of which was bestowed on me, they must +endure the same sorrow. But did not we have better ones? What they daily +possessed we only dreamed of in our simple garden. How often I let you +share the radiant visions which my soul revealed to me! You willingly +accompanied me into the splendid fairy world of my dreams. All that my +imagination conjured up during the years of quiet and repose accompanied +me into my after-life. Again and again I have beheld them, rich and +powerful, upon the throne. The means of rendering the vision a verity were +at hand; and when I met the man whose own life resembled the realization +of a dream, I recalled those childish fancies and made them facts. The +marvels with which I adorned my lover’s existence were childish dreams to +which I gave tangible form. This garden is an image of the life to which I +intended to rise; in reality, fell. We collected within the limits of this +bit of earth everything which can delight the senses; not a single one is +omitted in this narrow space, whose crowded maze of pleasures fairly +impede freedom of movement. Yet in your home, and guided by your wise +father, I had learned to be content with so little, and commenced the +struggle to attain peace. That painless peace—our chief good—whence +came it? Through me it was lost to you both—— But the children—I made +them begin their lives in an arena of every disturbing influence; and now +I see how their own healthy natures yearn to escape from the dazzling +wealth of colour, the stupefying fragrance, the bewildering songs and +twittering. They long to return to the untilled earth, where the life of +struggling mortals began. The boy casts away the baubles, to test his own +creative powers. The girl follows his example, and clings fast only to +the doll in which she sees the living child, in order to do justice to +the maternal instinct, the token of her sex. But what they so eagerly +desire is right, and shall be granted. When I was ten years old, like the +twins, my life and efforts were already directed towards one fixed goal. +They are still blindly following the objects set before them. Let them +return to the place whence their mother started, where she received +everything good which is still hers. They shall go to the garden of +Epicurus, no matter whether it is the old one in Kanopus or elsewhere. +All that their mother beheld in vivid dreams, which she often strove with +wanton extravagance to realize, has surrounded them from their birth and +early satiated them. When they enter life, they will scorn what merely +stirs and dazzles the senses, and cling to the aspiration for painless +peace of mind, if a wise guide directs them and protects them from the +dangers which the teachings of Epicurus contain for youth. I have found +this guide, and you, too, will trust him—I mean your brother Archibius.” +</p> +<p> +“Archibius?” asked Charmian in surprise. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, he who grew up in the garden of Epicurus, and in life and +philosophy found the support which has preserved his peace of mind during +all the conflicts of existence—he who loves the mother, and to whom +the children are also dear—he to whom the boys and girls cling with +affectionate confidence. I wish to place the children under his protection +and, if he will consent to grant this desire of the most hapless of women, +I shall look forward calmly to the end. It is approaching! I feel, I know +it! Gorgias is already at work upon the plan for my tomb.” +</p> +<p> +“O my Queen!” cried Charmian sorrowfully. “Whatever may happen, your +illustrious life cannot be in danger! The generous heart of Mark Antony +does not throb in Octavianus’s breast, but he is not cruel, and for the +very reason that cool calculation curbs ambition he will spare you. He +knows that you are the idol of the city, the whole country; and if he +really succeeds in adding fresh victories to this first conquest, if the +immortals permit your throne and—may they avert it!—your +sacred person, too, to fall into his power——” +</p> +<p> +“Then,” cried Cleopatra, her clear eyes flashing, “then he shall learn +which of us two is the greater—then I shall know how to maintain the +right to despise him, though blind Fate should make the whole power of the +world subject to him who robbed my son and Cæsar’s of his heritage!” +</p> +<p> +Her eyes had blazed with anger as she uttered the words; then, letting her +little clenched hand fall, she went on in an altered tone: +</p> +<p> +“Months may pass before he is strong enough to risk the attack, and the +immortals themselves approved the erection of the monument. The only +obstacle in the way, the house of the old philosopher Didymus, was +destroyed. A messenger from Gorgias brought the news. It is to be the +second monument in Alexandria worthy of notice. The other contains the +body of the great Alexander, to whom the city owes its origin and name. He +who subjected half the world to his power and the genius of the Greeks, +was younger than I when he died. Whence do I, by whose miserable weakness +the battle of Actium was lost, derive the right to walk longer beneath the +sun? Perhaps Mark Antony will arrive in a few hours.” +</p> +<p> +“And will you meet the disheartened hero in this mood?” interrupted +Charmian. +</p> +<p> +“He does not wish to be received,” answered Cleopatra bitterly. “He even +refused to let me greet him, and I understand the denial. But what must +have overwhelmed this joyous nature, so friendly to all mankind, that he +longs for solitude and avoids meeting those who are nearest and dearest? +Iras is now at the Choma—whither he wishes to retire—to see +that everything is in order. She will also provide a supply of the flowers +he loves. It is hard, cruelly hard, not to welcome him as usual. O, +Charmian, what joy it was when, with open arms and overflowing heart, he +swung his mighty figure ashore like a youth, while his handsome, heroic +face beamed with ardent love for me! And then—you do not forget it +either—when he raised his deep voice to shout the first greeting, +why, it seemed as if the very fish in the water must join in, and the +palm-trees on the shore wave their feathery tops in joyous sympathy. And +here! The dreams of my childhood, which I made reality for him, received +us, and our existence, wreathed with love and roses, became a fairy tale. +Since the day he rode towards us at Kanopus and offered me the first +bouquet, with his sunny glance wooing my love, his image has stood before +my soul as the embodiment of the virile strength which conquers +everything, and the bright, undimmed joy which renders the whole world +happy. And now—now? Do you remember the dull dreamer whom we left +ere he set forth for Parætonium? But no, no, a thousand times no, he must +not remain so! Not with bowed head, but erect as in the days of happiness, +must he cross the threshold of Hades, hand in hand with her whom he loved. +And he does love me still. Else would he have followed me hither, though +no magic goblet drew him after me? And I? The heart which, in the breast +of the child, gave him its first young love, is still his, and will be +forever. Might I not go to the harbour and await him there? Look me in the +face, Charmian, and answer me as fearlessly as a mirror: did Olympus +really succeed in effacing the wrinkles?” +</p> +<p> +“They were scarcely visible before,” was the reply, “and even the keenest +eye could no longer discover them. I have brought the pomade, too, and the +prescription Olympus gave me for——” +</p> +<p> +“Hush, hush!” interrupted Cleopatra softly. “There are many living +creatures in this garden, and they say that even the birds are good +listeners.” +</p> +<p> +A roguish smile deepened the dimples in her cheeks as she spoke, and +delight in her bewitching grace forced from Charmian’s lips the +exclamation: +</p> +<p> +“If Mark Antony could only see you now!” +</p> +<p> +“Flatterer!” replied the Queen with a grateful smile. But Charmian felt +that the time had now come to plead once more for Barine, and she began +eagerly: +</p> +<p> +“No, I certainly do not flatter. No one in Alexandria, no matter what name +she bears, could venture to vie even remotely with your charms. So cease +the persecution of the unfortunate woman whom you confided to my care. It +is an insult to Cleopatra——” +</p> +<p> +But here an indignant “Again!” interrupted her. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra’s face, which during the conversation had mirrored every emotion +of a woman’s soul, from the deepest sorrow to the most mischievous mirth, +assumed an expression of repellent harshness, and, with the curt remark, +“You are forgetting what I had good reason to forbid—I must go to my +work,” she turned her back upon the companion of her youth. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch15"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER XV. +</h3> + +<p> +Charmain went towards her own apartments. How often she had had a similar +experience! In the midst of the warmest admiration for this rare woman’s +depth of feeling, masculine strength of intellect, tireless industry, +watchful care for her native land, steadfast loyalty, and maternal +devotion, she had been sobered in the most pitiable way. +</p> +<p> +She had been forced to see Cleopatra, for the sake of realizing a childish +dream, and impressing her lover, squander vast sums, which diminished the +prosperity of her subjects; place great and important matters below the +vain, punctilious care of her own person; forget, in petty jealousy, the +justice and kindness which were marked traits in her character; and, +though the most kindly and womanly of sovereigns, suffer herself to be +urged by angry excitement to inflict outrage on a subject whose acts had +awakened her displeasure. The lofty ambition which had inspired her +noblest and most praiseworthy deeds had more than once been the source of +acts which she herself regretted. When a child, she could not endure to be +surpassed in difficult tasks, and still deemed it a necessity to be first +and peerless. Hence the unfortunate circumstance that Antony had given +Barine the counterpart of an armlet which she herself wore as a gift from +her lover, was perhaps the principal cause of her bitter resentment +against the hapless woman. +</p> +<p> +Charmian had seen Cleopatra forgive freely and generously many a wrong, +nay, many an affront, inflicted upon her; but to see herself placed by her +husband on the same plane as a Barine, even in the most trivial matter, +might easily seem to her an unbearable insult; and the mishap which had +befallen Cæsarion, in consequence of his foolish passion for the young +beauty, gave her a right to punish her rival. +</p> +<p> +Deeply anxious concerning the fate of the woman in her care—greatly +agitated, moreover, and exhausted physically and mentally—Charmian +sought her own apartments. +</p> +<p> +Here she hoped to find solace in Barine’s cheerful and equable nature; +here the helpful hands of her dark-skinned maid and confidante awaited +her. +</p> +<p> +The sun was low in the western horizon when she entered the anteroom. The +members of the body-guard who were on duty told her that nothing unusual +had occurred, and with a sigh of relief she passed into the sitting-room. +</p> +<p> +But the Ethiopian, who usually came to meet her with words of welcome, +took her veil and wraps, and removed her shoes, was absent. Today no one +greeted her. Not until she entered the second room, which she had assigned +to her guest, did she find Barine, who was weeping bitterly. +</p> +<p> +During Charmian’s absence the latter had received a letter from Alexas, in +which he informed her that he was ordered by the Queen to subject her to +an examination the next morning. Her cause looked dark but, if she did not +render his duty harder by the harshness which had formerly caused him much +pain, he would do his utmost to protect her from imprisonment, forced +labour in the mines, or even worse misfortunes. The imprudent game which +she had played with King Cæsarion had unfortunately roused the people +against her. The depth of their indignation was shown by the fury with +which they had assailed the house of her grandfather, Didymus. Nothing +could save Dion, who had audaciously attacked the illustrious son of their +beloved Queen, from the rage of the populace. He, Alexas, knew that in +this Dion she would lose a friend and protector, but he would be disposed +to take his place if her conduct did not render it impossible for him to +unite mercy with justice. +</p> +<p> +This shameful letter, which promised Barine clemency in return for her +favour without unmasking him in his character of judge, explained to +Charmian the agitation in which she found her friend’s daughter. +</p> +<p> +It was doubtless a little relief to Barine to express her loathing and +abhorrence of Alexas as eagerly as her gentle nature would permit, but +fear, grief, and indignation continued to struggle for the mastery in her +oppressed soul. +</p> +<p> +It would have been expected that the keen-witted woman would have eagerly +inquired what Charmian had accomplished with the Queen and Archibius, and +what new events had happened to affect Cleopatra, the state, and the city; +but she questioned her with far deeper interest concerning the welfare of +her lover, desiring information in regard to many things of which her +friend could give no tidings. In her brief visit to Dion’s couch she had +not learned how he bore his own misfortunes and Barine’s, what view he +took of the future, or what he expected from the woman he loved. +</p> +<p> +Charmian’s ignorance and silence in regard to these very matters increased +the anxiety of the endangered woman, who saw not only her own life, but +those dearest to her, seriously threatened. So she entreated her hostess +to relieve her from the uncertainty which was harder to endure than the +most terrible reality; but the latter either could not or would not give +her any further details of Cleopatra’s intentions, or the fate and present +abode of her grandparents and Helena. This increased her anxiety, for if +Alexas’s information was correct, her family must be homeless. When +Charmian at last admitted that she had seen Dion only a few minutes, the +tortured Barine’s power of quiet endurance gave way. +</p> +<p> +She, whose nature was so hopeful that, when the glow of the sunset faded, +she already anticipated with delight the rosy dawn of the next day, now +beheld in Cleopatra’s hand the reed which was to sign the death-sentence +of Dion and herself. Her mental vision conjured up her relatives wounded +by the falling house or bleeding under the stones hurled by the raging +populace. She heard Alexas command the executioner to subject her to the +rack, and fancied that Anukis had not returned because she had failed to +find Dion. The Queen’s soldiers had probably carried him to prison, loaded +with chains, if Philostratus had not already instigated the mob to drag +him through the streets. +</p> +<p> +With feverish impetuosity, which alarmed Charmian the more because it was +so unlike her old friend’s daughter, Barine described all the spectres +with which her imagination—agitated by terror, longing, love, and +loathing—terrified her; but the former exerted all the power of +eloquence she possessed, by turns reproving her and loading her with +caresses, in order to soothe her and rouse her from her despair. But +nothing availed. At last she succeeded in persuading the unhappy woman to +go with her to the window, which afforded a most beautiful view. Westward, +beyond the Heptastadium, the sun was sinking below the forests of masts in +the harbour of the Eunostus; and Charmian, who had learned from her +intercourse with the royal children how to soothe a troubled young heart, +to divert Barine’s thoughts, directed her attention to the crimson glow in +the western sky, and told her how her father, the artist, had showed her +the superb brilliancy which colours gained at this hour of the day, even +when the west was less radiant than now. But Barine, who usually could +never gaze her fill at such a spectacle, did not thank her, for this +sunset reminded her of another which she had lately watched at Dion’s +side, and she again broke into convulsive sobs. +</p> +<p> +Charmian, not knowing what to do, passed her arm around her. Just at that +moment the door was hurriedly thrown open, and Anukis, the Nubian, +entered. +</p> +<p> +Her mistress knew that something unusual must have happened to detain her +so long from her post at Barine’s side, and her appearance showed that she +had been attending to important matters which had severely taxed her +strength. Her shining dark skin looked ashen grey, her high forehead, +surrounded by tangled woolly locks, was dripping with perspiration, and +her thick lips were pale. Although she must have undergone great fatigue, +she did not seem in need of rest; for, after greeting the ladies, +apologizing for her long absence, and telling Barine that this time Dion +had seemed to her half on the way to recovery, a rapid side glance at her +mistress conveyed an entreaty that she would follow her into the next +room. +</p> +<p> +But the language of the Nubian’s eyes had not escaped the suspicious +watchfulness of the anxious Barine and, overwhelmed with fresh terror, she +begged that she might hear all. +</p> +<p> +Charmian ordered her maid to speak openly; but Anukis, ere she began, +assured them that she had received the news she brought from a most +trustworthy source—only it would make a heavy demand upon the +resolution and courage of Barine, whom she had hoped to find in a very +different mood. There was no time to lose. She was expected at the +appointed place an hour after sunset. +</p> +<p> +Here Charmian interrupted the maid with the exclamation “Impossible!” and +reminded her of the guards which Alexas, aided by Iras, who was thoroughly +familiar with the palace, had stationed the day before in the anteroom, at +all the doors—nay, even beneath the windows. +</p> +<p> +The Nubian replied that everything had been considered; but, to gain time, +she must beg Barine to let her colour her skin and curl her hair while she +was talking. +</p> +<p> +The surprise visible in the young beauty’s face caused her to exclaim: +“Only act with entire confidence. You shall learn everything directly. +There is so much to tell! On the way here I had planned how to relate the +whole story in regular order, but it can’t be done now. No, no! Whoever +wants to save a flock of sheep from a burning shed must lead out the +bell-wether first—the main thing, I mean—so I will begin with +that, though it really comes last. The explanation of how all this——” +</p> +<p> +Here, like a cry of joy, Barine’s exclamation interrupted her: +</p> +<p> +“I am to fly, and Dion knows it and will follow me! I see it in your +face.” +</p> +<p> +In fact, every feature of the dusky maid-servant’s ugly face betrayed that +pleasant thoughts were agitating her mind. Her black eyes flashed with +fearless daring, and a smile beautified her big mouth and thick lips as +she replied: +</p> +<p> +“A loving heart like yours understands the art of prophecy better than the +chief priest of the great Serapis. Yes, my young mistress, he of whom you +speak must disappear from this wicked city where so much evil threatens +you both. He will certainly escape and, if the immortals aid us and we are +wise and brave, you also. Whence the help comes can be told later. Now, +the first thing is to transform you—don’t be reluctant—into +the ugliest woman in the world—black Anukis. You must escape from +the palace in this disguise.—Now you know the whole plan, and while +I get what is necessary from my chest of clothes, I beg you, mistress, to +consider how we are to obtain the black stains for that ivory skin and +golden hair.” +</p> +<p> +With these words she left the room, but Barine flung herself into her +friend’s arms, exclaiming, amid tears and laughter: “Though I should be +forced to remain forever as black and crooked as faithful Aisopion, if he +did not withdraw his love, though I were obliged to go through fire and +water—I would—— O Charmian! what changes so quickly as joy and sorrow? +I would fain show some kindness to every one in the world, even to your +Queen, who has brought all these troubles upon me.” +</p> +<p> +The new-born hope had transformed the despairing woman into a happy one, +and Charmian perceived it with grateful joy, secretly wishing that +Cleopatra had listened to her appeal. +</p> +<p> +While examining the hair-dyes used by the Queen she saw, lurking in the +background of what was still unexplained, and therefore confused her mind, +fresh and serious perils. Barine, on the contrary, gazed across them to +the anticipated meeting with her lover, and was full of the gayest +expectation until the maid-servant’s return. +</p> +<p> +The work of disfigurement began without delay. Anukis moved her lips as +busily as her hands, and described in regular order all that had befallen +her during the eventful day. +</p> +<p> +Barine listened with rising excitement, and her joy increased as she +beheld the path which had been smoothed for her by the care and wisdom of +her friends. Charmian, on the contrary, became graver and more quiet the +more distinctly she perceived the danger her favourite must encounter. Yet +she could not help admitting that it would be a sin against Barine’s +safety, perhaps her very life, to withhold her from this well-considered +plan of escape. +</p> +<p> +That it must be tried was certain; but as the moment which was to endanger +the woman she loved drew nearer, and she could not help saying to herself +that she was aiding an enterprise in opposition to the express command of +the Queen and helping to execute a plan which threatened to rouse the +indignation, perhaps the fury, of Cleopatra, a feeling of sorrow +overpowered her. She feared nothing for herself. Not for a single instant +did she think of the unpleasant consequences which Barine’s escape might +draw upon her. The burden on her soul was due only to the consciousness of +having, for the first time, opposed the will of the sovereign, to fulfil +whose desires and to promote whose aims had been the beloved duty of her +life. Doubtless the thought crossed her mind that, by aiding Barine’s +escape, she was guarding Cleopatra from future repentance; probably she +felt sure that it was her duty to help rescue this beautiful young life, +whose bloom had been so cruelly assailed by tempest and hoar-frost, and +which now had a prospect of the purest happiness; yet, though in itself +commendable, the deed brought her into sharp conflict with the loftiest +aims and aspirations of her life. And how much nearer than the other was +the woman—she shrank from the word—whom she was about to +betray, how much greater was Cleopatra’s claim to her love and gratitude! +Could she have any other emotion than thankfulness if the plan of escape +succeeded? Yet she was reluctant to perform the task of making Barine’s +beautiful, symmetrical figure resemble the hunch-backed Nubian’s, or to +dip her fingers into the pomade intended for Cleopatra; and it grieved her +to mar the beauty of Barine’s luxuriant tresses by cutting off part of her +thick fair braids. +</p> +<p> +True, these things could not be avoided, if the flight was to succeed, and +the further Anukis advanced in her story, the fewer became her mistress’s +objections to the plan. +</p> +<p> +The conversation between Iras and Alexas, which had been overheard by the +maid, already made it appear necessary to withdraw Barine and her lover +from the power of such foes. The faithful man whom Anukis had found with +Dion, whose name she did not mention and of whose home she said only that +no safer hiding-place could be found, even by the mole which burrowed in +the earth, really seemed to have been sent with Gorgias to Dion’s couch by +Fate itself. The control of the subterranean chambers in the Temple of +Isis which had been bestowed on the architect, also appeared like a +miracle. +</p> +<p> +Upon a small tablet, which the wise Aisopion had intentionally delayed +handing to her mistress until now, were the lines: +</p> +<p> +“Archibius greets his sister Charmian. If I know your heart, it will +be as hard for you as for me to share this plot, yet it must be done for +the sake of her father, to save the life and happiness of his child. So +it must fall to your lot to bring Barine to the Temple of Isis at the +Corner of the Muses. She will find her lover there and, if possible, be +wedded to him. As the sanctuary is so near, you need leave the palace +only a short time. Do not tell Barine what we have planned. The +disappointment would be too great if it should prove impracticable.” +</p> +<p> +This letter and the arrangement it proposed transformed the serious +scruples which shadowed Charmian’s good-will into a joyous, nay, +enthusiastic desire to render assistance. Barine’s marriage to the man who +possessed her heart was close at hand, and she was the daughter of Leonax, +who had once been dear to her. Fear and doubt vanished as if scattered to +the four winds, and when Aisopion’s work of transformation was completed +and Barine stood before her as the high-shouldered, dark-visaged, wrinkled +maid, she could not help admitting that it would be easy to escape from +the palace in that disguise. +</p> +<p> +She now told Barine that she intended to accompany her herself; and though +the former’s stained face forced her to refrain from kissing her friend, +she plainly expressed to her and the faithful freedwoman the overflowing +gratitude which filled her heart. +</p> +<p> +Anukis was left alone. After carefully removing all the traces of her +occupation, as habit dictated, she raised her arms in prayer, beseeching +the gods of her native land to protect the beautiful woman to whom she had +loaned her own misshapen form, which had now been of genuine service, and +who had gone forth to meet so many dangers, but also a happiness whose +very hope had been denied to her. +</p> +<p> +Charmian had told her maid that if the Queen should inquire for her before +Iras returned from the Choma to say that she had been obliged to leave the +palace, and to supply her place. During their absence, when Charmian had +been attacked by sickness, Cleopatra had often entrusted the care of her +toilet to Aisopion, and had praised her skill. +</p> +<p> +The Queen’s confidential attendant was followed as usual when she went out +by a dark-skinned maid. Lanterns and lamps had already been lighted in the +corridors of the spacious palace, and the court-yards were ablaze with +torches and pitch-pans; but, brilliantly as they burned in many places, +and numerous as were the guards, officers, eunuchs, clerks, soldiers, +cooks, attendants, slaves, door-keepers, and messengers whom they passed, +not one gave them more than a careless glance. +</p> +<p> +So they reached the last court-yard, and then came a moment when the +hearts of both women seemed to stop beating—for the man whom they +had most cause to dread, Alexas the Syrian, approached. +</p> +<p> +And he did not pass the fugitives, but stopped Charmian, and courteously, +even obsequiously, informed her that he wished to get rid of the +troublesome affair of her favourite, which had been assigned to him +against his will, and therefore had determined to bring Barine to trial +early the following morning. +</p> +<p> +The Syrian’s body-servant attended his master, and while the former was +talking with Charmian the latter turned to the supposed Nubian, tapped her +lightly on the shoulder, and whispered: “Come this evening, as you did +yesterday. You haven’t finished the story of Prince Setnau.” +</p> +<p> +The fugitive felt as if she had grown dumb and could never more regain the +power of speech. Yet she managed to nod, and directly after the favourite +bowed a farewell to Charmian. The Ligurian was obliged to follow his +master, while Charmian and Barine passed through the gateway between the +last pylons into the open air. +</p> +<p> +Here the sea-breeze seemed to waft her a joyous greeting from the realm of +liberty and happiness, and the timid woman, amid all the perils which +surrounded her, regained sufficient presence of mind to tell her friend +what Alexas’s slave had whispered—that Aisopion might remind him of +it the same evening, and thus strengthen his belief that the Nubian had +accompanied the Queen’s confidante. +</p> +<p> +The way to the Temple of Isis was short. The stars showed that they would +reach their destination in time; but a second delay unexpectedly occurred. +From the steps leading to the cella of the sanctuary a procession, whose +length seemed endless, came towards them. At the head of the train marched +eight pastophori, bearing the image of Isis. Then came the basket-bearers +of the goddess with several other priestesses, followed by the reader with +an open book-roll. Behind him appeared the quaternary number of prophets, +whose head, the chief priest, moved with stately dignity beneath a canopy. +The rest of the priestly train bore in their hands manuscripts, sacred +vessels, standards, and wreaths. The priestesses—some of whom, with +garlands on their flowing hair, were already shaking the sistrum of Isis—mingled +with the line of priests, their high voices blending with the deep notes +of the men. Neokori, or temple servants, and a large number of worshippers +of Isis, closed the procession, all wearing wreaths and carrying flowers. +Torch and lantern bearers lighted the way, and the perfume of the incense +rising from the little pan of charcoal in the hand of a bronze arm, which +the pastophori waved to and fro, surrounded and floated after the +procession. +</p> +<p> +The two women waiting for the train to pass saw it turn towards Lochias, +and the conversation of the bystanders informed them that its object was +to convey to “the new Isis,” the Queen, the greeting of the goddess, and +assure the sovereign of the divinity’s remembrance of her in the hour of +peril. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra could not help accepting this friendly homage, and it was +incumbent upon her to receive it wearing on her head the crown of Upper +and Lower Egypt, and robed in all the ecclesiastical vestments which only +her two most trusted attendants knew how to put on with the attention to +details that custom required. This had never been entrusted to maids of +inferior position like the Nubian; so Cleopatra would miss Charmian. +</p> +<p> +The thought filled her with fresh uneasiness and, when the steps were at +last free, she asked herself anxiously how all this would end. +</p> +<p> +It seemed as if the fugitive and her companion had exposed themselves to +this great peril in vain; for some of the temple servants were forcing +back those who wished to enter the sanctuary, shouting that it would be +closed until the return of the procession. Barine gazed timidly into +Charmian’s face; but, ere she could express her opinion, the tall figure +of a man appeared on the temple steps. It was Archibius, who with grave +composure bade them follow him, and silently led them around the sanctuary +to a side door, through which, a short time before, a litter had passed, +accompanied by several attendants. +</p> +<p> +Ascending a flight of steps within the long building, they reached the +dimly lighted cella. +</p> +<p> +As in the Temple of Osiris at Abydos seven corridors, here three led to +the same number of apartments, the holy place of the sanctuary. The +central one was dedicated to Isis, that on the left to her husband Osiris, +and that on the right to Horus, the son of the great goddess. Before it, +scarcely visible in the dim light, stood the altars, loaded with +sacrifices by Archibius. +</p> +<p> +Beside that of Horus was the litter which had been borne into the temple +before the arrival of the women. From it, supported by two friends, +descended a slender young man. +</p> +<p> +A hollow sound echoed through the pillared hall. The iron door at the main +entrance of the temple had been closed. The shrill rattle that followed +proceeded from the metal bolts which an old servant of the sanctuary had +shot into the sockets. +</p> +<p> +Barine started, but neither inquired the cause of the noise nor perceived +the wealth of objects here presented to the senses; for the man who, +leaning on another’s arm, approached the altar, was Dion, the lover who +had perilled his life for her sake. Her eyes rested intently on his +figure, her whole heart yearned towards him and, unable to control +herself,—she called his name aloud. +</p> +<p> +Charmian gazed anxiously around the group, but soon uttered a sigh of +relief; for the tall man whose arm supported Dion was Gorgias, the worthy +architect, his best friend, and the other, still taller and stronger, her +own brother Archibius. Yonder figure, emerging from the disguise of wraps, +was Berenike, Barine’s mother. All trustworthy confidants! The only person +whom she did not know was the handsome young man standing at her brother’s +side. +</p> +<p> +Barine, whose arm she still held, had struggled to escape to rush to her +mother and lover; but Archibius had approached, and in a whisper warned +her to be patient and to refrain from any greeting or question, +“supposing,” he added, “that you are willing to be married at this altar +to Dion, the son of Eumenes.” +</p> +<p> +Charmian felt Barine’s arm tremble in hers at this suggestion, but the +young beauty obeyed her friend’s directions. She did not know what had +befallen her, or whether, in the excess of happiness which overwhelmed +her, to shout aloud in her exultant joy, or melt into silent tears of +gratitude and emotion. +</p> +<p> +No one spoke. Archibius took a roll of manuscript from Dion’s hand, +presented himself before the assembled company as the bride’s kyrios, or +guardian, and asked Barine whether she so recognized him. Then he returned +to Dion the marriage contract, whose contents he knew and approved, and +informed those present that, in the marriage about to be solemnized, they +must consider him the paranymphos, or best man, and Berenike as the +bridesmaid, and they instantly lighted a torch at the fires burning on one +of the altars. Archibius, as kyrios, joined the lovers’ hands in the +Egyptian—Barine’s mother, as bridesmaid, in the Greek—manner, and +Dion gave his bride a plain iron ring. It was the same one which his +father had bestowed at his own wedding, and he whispered: “My mother +valued it; now it is your turn to honour the ancient treasure.” +</p> +<p> +After stating that the necessary sacrifices had been offered to Isis and +Serapis, Zeus, Hera, and Artemis, and that the marriage between Dion, son +of Eumenes, and Barine, daughter of Leonax, was concluded, Archibius shook +hands with both. +</p> +<p> +Haste seemed necessary, for he permitted Berenike and his sister only time +for a brief embrace, and Gorgias to clasp her hand and Dion’s. Then he +beckoned, and the newly made bride’s mother followed him in tears, +Charmian bewildered and almost stupefied. She did not fully realize the +meaning of the event she had just witnessed until an old neokori had +guided her and the others into the open air. +</p> +<p> +Barine felt as if every moment might rouse her from a blissful dream, and +yet she gladly told herself that she was awake, for the man walking before +her, leaning on the arm of a friend, was Dion. True, she saw, even in the +faint light of the dim temple corridor, that he was suffering. Walking +appeared to be so difficult that she rejoiced when, yielding to Gorgias’s +entreaties, he entered the litter. +</p> +<p> +But where were the bearers? +</p> +<p> +She was soon to learn; for, even while she looked for them, the architect +and the youth, in whom she had long since recognized Philotas, her +grandfather’s assistant, seized the poles. +</p> +<p> +“Follow us,” said Gorgias, under his breath, and she obeyed, keeping close +behind the litter, which was borne first down a broad and then a narrow +staircase, and finally along a passage. Here a door stopped the fugitives; +but the architect opened it and helped his friend out of the litter, which +before proceeding farther he placed in a room filled with various articles +discovered during his investigation of the subterranean temple chambers. +</p> +<p> +Hitherto not a word had been spoken. Now Gorgias called to Barine: “This +passage is low—you must stoop. Cover your head, and don’t be afraid +if you meet bats. They have long been undisturbed. We might have taken you +from the temple to the sea, and waited there, but it would probably have +attracted attention and been dangerous. Courage, young wife of Dion! The +corridor is long, and walking through it is difficult; but compared with +the road to the mines, it is as smooth and easy as the Street of the King. +If you think of your destination, the bats will seem like the swallows +which announce the approach of spring.” +</p> +<p> +Barine nodded gratefully to him; but she kissed the hand of Dion, who was +moving forward painfully, leaning on the arm of his friend. The light of +the torch carried by Gorgias’s faithful foreman, who led the way, had +fallen on her blackened arm, and when the little party advanced she kept +behind the others. She thought it might be unpleasant for her lover to see +her thus disfigured, and spared him, though she would gladly have remained +nearer. As soon as the passage grew lower, the wounded man’s friends took +him in their arms, and their task was a hard one, for they were not only +obliged to move onward bending low under the heavy burden, but also to +beat off the bats which, frightened by the foreman’s torch, flew up in +hosts. +</p> +<p> +Barine’s hair was covered, it is true, but at any other time the hideous +creatures, which often brushed against her head and arms, would have +filled her with horror and loathing. Now she scarcely heeded them; her +eyes were fixed on the recumbent figure in the bearers’ arms, the man to +whom she belonged, body and soul, and whose patient suffering pierced her +inmost heart. His head rested on the breast of Gorgias, who walked +directly in front of her; the architect’s stooping posture concealed his +face, but his feet were visible and, whenever they twitched, she fancied +he was in pain. Then she longed to press forward to his side, wipe the +perspiration from his brow in the hot, low corridor, and whisper words of +love and encouragement. +</p> +<p> +This she was sometimes permitted to do when the friends put down their +heavy burden. True, they allowed themselves only brief intervals of rest, +but they were long enough to show her how the sufferer’s strength was +failing. When they at last reached their destination, Philotas was forced +to exert all his strength to support the exhausted man, while Gorgias +cautiously opened the door. It led to a flight of sea-washed steps close +to the garden of Didymus, which as a child she had often used with her +brother to float a little boat upon the water. +</p> +<p> +The architect opened the door only a short distance; he was expected, for +Barine soon heard him whisper, and suddenly the door was flung wide. A +tall man raised Dion and bore him into the open air. While she was still +gazing after him, a second figure of equal size approached her and, +hastily begging her permission, lifted her in his arms like a child, and +as she inhaled the cool night air and felt the water through which her +bearer waded splash up and wet her feet, her eyes sought her new-made +husband—but in vain; the night was very dark, and the lights on the +shore did not reach this spot so far below the walls of the quay. +</p> +<p> +Barine was frightened; but a few minutes after the outlines of a large +fishing boat loomed through the darkness, dimly illumined by the harbour +lights, and the next instant the giant who carried her placed her on the +deck, and a deep voice whispered: “All’s well. I’ll bring some wine at +once.” +</p> +<p> +Then Barine saw her husband lying motionless on a couch which had been +prepared for him in the prow of the boat. Bending over him, she perceived +that he had fainted, and while rubbing his forehead with the wine, raising +his head on her lap, cheering him, and afterwards by the light of a small +lantern carefully renewing the bandage on his shoulder, she did not notice +that the vessel was moving through the water until the boatman set the +triangular sail. +</p> +<p> +She had not been told where the boat was bearing her, and she did not ask. +Any spot that she could share with Dion was welcome. The more lonely the +place, the more she could be to him. How her heart swelled with gratitude +and love! When she bent over him, kissed his forehead, and felt how +feverishly it burned, she thought, “I will nurse you back to health,” and +raised her eyes and soul to her favourite god, to whom she owed the gift +of song, and who understood everything beautiful and pure, to thank +Phœbus Apollo and beseech him to pour his rays the next morning on a +convalescent man. While she was still engaged in prayer the boat touched +the shore. Again strong arms bore her and Dion to the land, and when her +foot touched the solid earth, her rescuer, the freedman Pyrrhus, broke the +silence, saying: “Welcome, wife of Dion, to our island! True, you must be +satisfied to take us as we are. But if you are as content with us as we +are glad to serve you and your lord, who is ours also, the hour of +leave-taking will be far distant.” +</p> +<p> +Then, leading the way to the house, he showed her as her future apartments +two large whitewashed rooms, whose sole ornament was their exquisite +neatness. +</p> +<p> +On the threshold stood Pyrrhus’s grey-haired wife, a young woman, and +a girl scarcely beyond childhood; but the older one modestly welcomed +Barine, and also begged her to accept their hospitality. Recovery was +rapid in the pure air of the Serpent Isle. She herself, and—she +pointed to the others—her oldest son’s wife, and her own daughter, +Dione, would be ready to render her any service. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch16"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER XVI. +</h3> + +<p> +Brothers and sisters are rarely talkative when they are together. As +Charmian went to Lochias with Archibius, it was difficult for her to find +words, the events of the past few hours had agitated her so deeply. +Archibius, too, could not succeed in turning his thoughts in any other +direction, though important and far more momentous things claimed his +attention. +</p> +<p> +They walked on silently side by side. In reply to his sister’s inquiry +where the newly wedded pair were to be concealed, he had answered that, +spite of her trustworthiness, this must remain a secret. To her second +query, how had it been possible to use the interior of the Temple of Isis +without interruption, he also made a guarded reply. +</p> +<p> +In fact, it was the control of the subterranean corridors of the sanctuary +which had suggested to Gorgias the idea of carrying Dion through them to +Pyrrhus’s fishing-boat. To accomplish this it was only necessary to have +the Temple of Isis, which usually remained open day and night, left to the +fugitive’s friends for a short time; and this was successfully managed. +</p> +<p> +The historian Timagenes, who had come from Rome as ambassador and claimed +the hospitality of his former pupil Archibius, had been empowered to offer +Cleopatra recognition of her own and her children’s right to the throne, +and a full pardon, if she would deliver Mark Antony into the hands of +Octavianus, or have him put to death. +</p> +<p> +The Alexandrian Timagenes considered this demand both just and desirable, +because it promised to deliver his native city from the man whose despotic +arrogance menaced its freedom, and whose lavish generosity and boundless +love of splendour diminished its wealth. To Rome, as whose representative +the historian appeared, this man’s mere existence meant constant turmoil +and civil war. At the restoration of the flute-player by Gabinius and Mark +Antony, Timagenes had been carried into slavery. Later, when, after his +freedom had been purchased by the son of Sulla, he succeeded in attaining +great influence in Rome, he still remained hostile to Mark Antony, and it +had been a welcome charge to work against him in Alexandria. He hoped to +find an ally in Archibius, whose loyal devotion to the Queen he knew. +Arius, Barine’s uncle and Octavianus’s former tutor, would also aid him. +The most powerful support of his mission, however, could be rendered by +the venerable chief priest, the head of the whole Egyptian hierarchy. He +had shown the latter that Antony, in any case, was a lost man, and Egypt +was in the act of dropping like a ripe fruit into the lap of Octavianus. +It would soon be in his power to give the country whatever degree of +liberty and independence he might choose. The Cæsar had the sole disposal +of the Queen’s fate also, and whoever desired to see her remain on the +throne must strive to gain the good-will of Octavianus. +</p> +<p> +The wise Anubis had considered all these things, but he owed to Timagenes +the hint that Arius was the man whom Octavianus most trusted. So the +august prelate secretly entered into communication with Barine’s uncle. +But the dignity of his high office, and the feebleness of extreme age, +forbade Anubis to seek the man who was suspected of friendship for the +Romans. He had therefore sent his trusted secretary, the young Serapion, +to make a compact as his representative with the friend of Octavianus, +whose severe injuries prevented his leaving the house to go to the chief +priest. +</p> +<p> +During Timagenes’s negotiations with the secretary and Arius, Archibius +came to entreat Barine’s uncle to do everything in his power to save his +niece; and, as all the Queen’s friends were anxious to prevent an act +which, in these times of excitement, could not fail, on account of its +connection with Dion, a member of the Council, to rouse a large number of +the citizens against her, Serapion, as soon as he was made aware of the +matter, eagerly protested his readiness to do his best to save the +imperilled lovers. He cared nothing for Barine or Dion as individuals, but +he doubtless would have been ready to make a still greater sacrifice to +win the influential Archibius, and especially Arius, who would have great +power through Octavianus, the rising sun. +</p> +<p> +The men had just begun to discuss plans for saving Barine, when the Nubian +appeared and told Archibius what had been arranged beside Dion’s sick-bed +by the freedman and Gorgias. The escape of the fugitives depended solely +upon their reaching the boat unseen, and the surest way to accomplish this +was to use the subterranean passage which the architect had again opened. +</p> +<p> +Archibius, to whom the representative of the chief priest had offered his +aid, now took the others into his confidence, and Arius proposed that +Barine should marry Dion in the Temple of Isis, and the couple should +afterwards be guided through the secret passage to the boat. This proposal +was approved, and Serapion promised to reserve the sanctuary for the +wedding of the fugitives for a short time after the departure of the +procession, which was to take place at sunset. In return for this service +another might perhaps soon be requested from the friend of Octavianus, who +greeted his promise with grateful warmth. +</p> +<p> +“The priesthood,” said Serapion, “takes sides with all who are unjustly +persecuted, and in this case bestows aid the more willingly on account of +its great anxiety to guard the Queen from an act which would be difficult +to approve.” As for the fugitives, so far as he could see, only two +possibilities were open to them: Cleopatra would cleave to Mark Antony and +go—would that the immortals might avert it!—to ruin, or she +would sacrifice him and save her throne and life. In both cases the +endangered lovers could soon return uninjured—the Queen had a +merciful heart, and never retained anger long if no guilt existed. +</p> +<p> +The details of the plan were then settled by Archibius, Anukis, and +Berenike, who was with the family of Arius, and the decision was +communicated to the architect. Archibius had maintained the same silence +concerning the destination of the fugitives towards the men composing the +council and Barine’s mother as to his sister. With regard to the mission +of Timagenes and the political questions which occupied his mind, he gave +Charmian only the degree of information necessary to explain the plan she +so lovingly promoted; but she had no desire to know more. On the way home +her mind was wholly absorbed by the fear that Cleopatra had missed her +services and discovered Barine’s flight. True, she mentioned the Queen’s +desire to place her children in Archibius’s charge, but she could not give +him full particulars until she reached her own apartments. +</p> +<p> +Her absence had not been noticed. The Regent Mardion had received the +procession in the Queen’s name, for Cleopatra had driven into the city, no +one knew where. +</p> +<p> +Charmian entered her apartments with a lighter heart. Anukis opened the +door to them. She had remained undisturbed, and it was a pleasure to +Archibius to give the faithful, clever freedwoman an account of the matter +with his own lips. He could have bestowed no richer reward upon the modest +servant, who listened to his words as if they were a revelation. When she +disclaimed the thanks with which he concluded, protesting that she was the +person under obligation, the expression was sincere. Her keen intellect +instantly recognized the aristocrat’s manner of addressing an equal or an +inferior; and he who, in her eyes, was the first of men, had described the +course of events as though she had stood on the same level. The Queen +herself might have been satisfied with the report. +</p> +<p> +When she left Charmian’s rooms to join the other servants, she told +herself that she was an especially favoured mortal; and when a young cook +teased her about her head being sunk between her shoulders, she answered, +laughing: “My shoulders have grown so high because I shrug them so +often at the fools who jeer at me and yet are not half so happy and +grateful.” +</p> +<p> +Charmian, sorely wearied, had flung herself into an arm-chair, and +Archibius took his place opposite to her. They were happy in each other’s +society, even when silent; but to-day the hearts of both were so full that +they fared like those who are so worn out by fatigue that they cannot +sleep. How much they had to tell each other!—yet it was long ere +Charmian broke the silence and returned to the subject of the Queen’s +wish, describing to her brother Cleopatra’s visit to the house which the +children had built, how kind and cordial she had been; yet, a few minutes +later, incensed by the mere mention of Barine’s name, she had dismissed +her so ungraciously. +</p> +<p> +“I do not know what you intend,” she said in conclusion, “but, +notwithstanding my love for her, I must perhaps decide in favour of what +is most difficult, for—when she learns that it was I who withdrew +the daughter of Leonax from her and the base Alexas—what treatment +can I expect, especially as Iras no longer gives me the same affection, +and shows that she has forgotten my love and care? This will increase, and +the worst of the matter is, that if the Queen begins to favour her, I +cannot justly reproach her, for Iras is keener-witted, and has a more +active brain. Statecraft was always odious to me. Iras, on the contrary, +is delighted with the opportunity to speak on subjects connected with the +government of the country, and especially the ceaseless, momentous game +with Rome and the men who guide her destiny.” +</p> +<p> +“That game is lost,” Archibius broke in with so much earnestness that +Charmian started, repeating in a low, timid tone: +</p> +<p> +“Lost?” +</p> +<p> +“Forever,” said Archibius, “unless——” +</p> +<p> +“The Olympians be praised—that there is still a doubt.” +</p> +<p> +“Unless Cleopatra can decide to commit an act which will force her to be +faithless to herself, and destroy her noble image through all future +generations.” +</p> +<p> +“How?” +</p> +<p> +“Whenever you learn it, will be too soon.” +</p> +<p> +“And suppose she should do it, Archibius? You are her most trusted +confidant. She will place in your charge what she loves more than she does +herself.” +</p> +<p> +“More? You mean, I suppose, the children?” +</p> +<p> +“The children! Yes, a hundred times yes. She loves them better than aught +else on earth. For them, believe me, she would be ready to go to her +death.” +</p> +<p> +“Let us hope so.” +</p> +<p> +“And you—were she to commit the horrible deed—I can only +suspect what it is. But should she descend from the height which she has +hitherto occupied—would you still be ready——” +</p> +<p> +“With me,” he interrupted quietly, “what she does or does not do matters +nothing. She is unhappy and will be plunged deeper and deeper into misery. +I know this, and it constrains me to exert my utmost powers in her +service. I am hers as the hermit consecrated to Serapis belongs to the +god. His every thought must be devoted to him. To the deity who created +him he dedicates body and soul until the death to which he dooms him. The +bonds which unite me to this woman—you know their origin—are +not less indestructible. Whatever she desires whose fulfilment will not +force me to despise myself is granted in advance.” +</p> +<p> +“She will never require such things from the friend of her childhood,” +cried Charmian. Then, approaching him with both arms extended joyfully, +she exclaimed: “Thus you ought to speak and feel, and therein is the +answer to the question which has agitated my soul since yesterday. +Barine’s flight, the favour and disfavour of Cleopatra, Iras, my poor +head, which abhors politics, while at this time the Queen needs +keen-sighted confidants——” +</p> +<p> +“By no means,” her brother interrupted. “It is for men alone to give +counsel in these matters. Accursed be women’s gossip over their toilet +tables. It has already scattered to the four winds many a well-considered +plan of the wisest heads, and an Iras could never be more fatal to +statecraft than just at the present moment, had not Fate already uttered +the final verdict.” +</p> +<p> +“Then hence with these scruples,” cried Charmian eagerly; “my doubts are +at an end! As usual, you point out the right path. I had thought of +returning to the country estate we call Irenia—the abode of peace—or +to our beloved little palace at Kanopus, to spend the years which may +still be allotted to me, and return to everything that made my childhood +beautiful. The philosophers, the flowers in the garden, the poets—even +the new Roman ones, of whose works Timagenes sent us such charming +specimens—would enliven the solitude. The child, the daughter of the +man whose love I renounced, and afterwards perhaps her sons and daughters, +would fill the place of my own. As they would have been dear to Leonax, I, +too, would have loved them! This is the guise in which the future has +appeared to me in many a quiet hour. But shall Charmian—who, when +her heart throbbed still more warmly and life lay fair before her, laid +her first love upon the altar of sacrifice for her royal playfellow—abandon +Cleopatra in misfortune from mere selfish scruples? No, no!—Like +you, I too belong—come what may—to the Queen.” +</p> +<p> +She gazed into her brother’s face, sure of his approval but, waving his +uplifted hand, he answered gravely: “No, Charmian! What I, a man, can +assume, might be fatal to you, a woman. The present is not sweet enough +for me to embitter it with wormwood from the future. And yet—— You must cast +one glance into its gloomy domain, in order to understand me. You can be +silent, and what you now learn will be a secret between us. Only one +thing”—here he lowered the loud tones of his deep voice—“only +one thing can save her: the murder of Antony, or an act of shameless +treachery which would deliver him into Octavianus’s power. This is the +proposal Timagenes brought.” +</p> +<p> +“This?” she asked in a hollow tone, her grey head drooping. +</p> +<p> +“This,” he repeated firmly. “And if she succumbs to the temptation, she +will be faithless to the love which has coursed through her whole life as +the Nile flows through the land of her ancestors. Then, Charmian, stay, +stay under any circumstances, cling to her more firmly than ever, for +then, then, my sister, she will be more wretched—ten, a hundred fold +more wretched than if Octavianus deprives her of everything, perhaps even +life itself.” +</p> +<p> +“Nor will I leave her, come what may. I will remain at her side until the +end,” cried Charmian eagerly. But Archibius, without noticing the +enthusiastic ardor, so unusual to his sister’s quiet nature, calmly +continued: “She won your heart also, and it seems impossible for you to +desert her. Many have shared our feelings; and it is no disgrace to any +one. Misfortune is a weapon which cleaves base natures like a sword, yet +like a hammer welds noble ones more closely. To you, therefore, it now +seems doubly difficult to leave her, but you need love. The right to live +and guard yourself from the most pitiable retrogression is your due, as +much as that of the rare woman on the throne. So long as you are sure of +her love, remain with her, and show your devotion in every situation until +the end. But the motives which were drawing you away to books, flowers, +and children, weigh heavily in the balance, and if you lack the anchor of +her favour and love, I shall see you perish miserably. The frost emanating +from Cleopatra, if her heart grew cold to you, the pin-pricks with which +Iras would assail you, were you defenceless, would kill you. This must not +be, sister; we will guard against it—— Do not interrupt me. The counsel I +advise you to follow has been duly weighed. If you see that the Queen +still loves you as in former days, cling to her; but should you learn the +contrary, bid her farewell to-morrow. My Irenia is yours——” +</p> +<p> +“But she <i>does</i> love me, and even should she no longer——” +</p> +<p> +“The test is at hand. We will leave the decision to her. You shall confess +that you were the culprit who aided Barine to escape her power to punish.” +</p> +<p> +“Archibius!” +</p> +<p> +“If you did not, a series of falsehoods must ensue. Try whether the petty +qualities in her nature, which urged her to commit the fate of Leonax’s +daughter to unworthy hands, are more powerful than the nobler ones. Try +whether she is worthy of the self-sacrificing fidelity which you have +given her all your life. If she remains the same as before, spite of this +admission——” +</p> +<p> +Here he was interrupted by Anukis, who asked if her mistress would see +Iras at this late hour. +</p> +<p> +“Admit her,” replied Archibius, after hastily exchanging glances +with his sister, whose face had paled at his demand. He perceived it and, +as the servant withdrew, he clasped her hand, saying with earnest +affection: “I gave you my opinion, but at our age we must take +counsel with ourselves, and you will find the right path.” +</p> +<p> +“I have already found it,” she answered softly with downcast eyes. “This +visitor brought a speedy decision. I must not feel ashamed in Iras’s +presence.” +</p> +<p> +She had scarcely finished speaking when the Queen’s younger confidante +entered. She was excited and, after casting a searching glance around the +familiar room, she asked, after a curt greeting: “No one knows where the +Queen has gone. Mardion received the procession in her place. Did she take +you into her confidence?” +</p> +<p> +Charmian answered in the negative, and inquired whether Antony had +arrived, and how she had found him. +</p> +<p> +“In a pitiable state,” was the reply. “I hastened hither to prevent the +Queen from visiting him, if possible. She would have received a rebuff. It +is horrible.” +</p> +<p> +“The disappointment of Parætonium is added to the other burdens,” +observed Archibius. +</p> +<p> +“A feather compared with the rest,” cried Iras indignantly. “What a +spectacle! A shrivelled soul, never too large, in the body of a powerful +giant. Disaster crushes the courage of the descendant of Herakles. The +weakling will drag the Queen’s splendid courage with him into the dust.” +</p> +<p> +“We will do our best to prevent it,” replied Archibius firmly. “The +immortals have placed you and Charmian at her side to sustain her, if her +own strength fails. The time to test your powers has arrived.” +</p> +<p> +“I know my duty,” replied Iras austerely. +</p> +<p> +“Prove it!” said Archibius earnestly. “You think you have cause for anger +against Charmian.” +</p> +<p> +“Whoever treats my foes so tenderly can doubtless dispense with my +affection. Where is your ward?” +</p> +<p> +“That you shall learn later,” replied Charmian advancing. “But when you do +know, you will have still better reason to doubt my love; yet it was only +to save one dear to me from misery, certainly not to grieve you, that I +stepped between you and Barine. And now let me say—had you wounded +me to the quick, and everything dear to the Greek heart called to me for +vengeance—I should impose upon myself whatever constraint might be +necessary to deny the impulse, because this breast contains a love +stronger, more powerful, than the fiercest hate. And this love we both +share. Hate me, strive to wound and injure one at whose side you have +hitherto stood like a daughter, but beware of robbing me of the strength +and freedom which I need, to be and to offer to my royal mistress all the +assistance in my power. I have just been consulting my brother about +leaving Cleopatra’s service.” +</p> +<p> +“Now?” Iras broke in vehemently. “No, no! Not that! It must not be! She +cannot spare you now.” +</p> +<p> +“More easily, perhaps, than you,” replied Charmian; “yet in many things my +services might be hard to replace.” +</p> +<p> +“Nothing under the sun <i>could</i> do it,” cried Iras eagerly. “If, in these +days of trouble, she should lose you too——” +</p> +<p> +“Still darker ones are approaching,” interrupted Archibius positively. +“Perhaps you will learn all to-morrow. Whether Charmian yields to her +desire for rest, or continues in the service of the Queen, depends on you. +If you wish her to remain you must not render it too hard for her to do +so. We three, my child, are perhaps the only persons at this court to whom +the Queen’s happiness is more than their own, and therefore we should +permit no incident, whatever name it may bear, to cloud our harmony.” +</p> +<p> +Iras threw back her head with angry pride, exclaiming passionately: “Was +it I who injured you? I do not know in what respect. But you and Charmian—though +you have so long been aware that this heart was closed against every love +save one—stepped between me and the man for whom I have yearned +since childhood, and built the bridge which united Dion and Barine. I held +the woman I hated in my grasp, and thanked the immortals for the boon; but +you two—it is not difficult to guess the secret you are still trying +to keep from me—you aided her to escape. You have robbed me of my +revenge; you have again placed the singer in the path where she must find +the man to whom I have a better and older claim, and who perhaps may still +be considering which of us two will be the better mistress of his house, +if Alexas and his worthy brother do not arrange matters so that we must +both content ourselves with thinking tenderly of a dead man. That is why I +believe that I am no longer indebted to you, that Charmian has more than +repaid herself for all the kindness she has ever showed me.” +</p> +<p> +With these words she hurried to the door, but paused on the threshold, +exclaiming: “This is the state of affairs; yet I am ready to serve the +Queen hand in hand with you as before; for you two—as I have said—are +necessary to her. In other respects—I shall follow my own path.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch17"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER XVII. +</h3> + +<p> +Cleopatra had sought the venerable Anubis, who now, as the priest of +Alexander, at the age of eighty, ruled the whole hierarchy of the country. +It was difficult for him to leave his arm-chair, but he had been carried +to the observatory to examine the adverse result of the observation made +by the Queen herself. The position of the stars, however, had been so +unfavourable that the more deeply Cleopatra entered into these matters, +the less easy he found it to urge the mitigating influences of distant +planets, which he had at first pointed out. +</p> +<p> +In his reception-hall, however, the chief priest had assured her that the +independence of Egypt and the safety of her own person lay in her hands; +only—the planets showed this—a terrible sacrifice was required—a +sacrifice of which his dignity, his eighty years, and his love for her +alike forbade him to speak. Cleopatra was accustomed to hear these +mysterious sayings from his lips, and interpreted them in her own way. +Many motives had induced her to seek the venerable prelate at this late +hour. In difficult situations he had often aided her with good counsel; +but this time she was not led to him by the magic cup of Nektanebus, which +the eight pastophori who accompanied it had that day restored to the +temple, for since the battle of Actium the superb vessel had been a source +of constant anxiety to her. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra had now asked the teacher of her childhood the direct question +whether the cup—a wide, shallow vessel, with a flat, polished +bottom—could really have induced Antony to leave the battle and follow +her ere the victory was decided. She had used it just before the conflict +between the galleys, and this circumstance led Anubis to answer positively +in the affirmative. +</p> +<p> +Long ago the marvellous chalice had been exhibited to her among the temple +treasures, and she was told that every one who induced another person to +be reflected from its shining surface obtained the mastery over his will. +Her wish to possess it, however, was not gratified, and she did not ask +for it again until the limitless devotion and ardent love of Antony had +seemed less fervent than of yore. From that time she had never ceased to +urge her aged friend to place the wondrous cup in her keeping. At first he +had absolutely refused, predicting that its use would bring misfortune +upon her; but when her request was followed by an imperative command, and +the goblet was entrusted to her, Anubis himself believed that this <i>one</i> +vessel did possess the magic power attributed to it. He deemed that the +drinking-cup afforded the strongest proof of the magic art, far +transcending human ability, of the great goddess by whose aid King +Nektanebus—who, according to tradition, was the father of Alexander +the Great—was said to have made the vessel in the Isis island of +Philæ. +</p> +<p> +Anubis had intended to remind Cleopatra of his refusal, and show her the +great danger incurred by mortals who strove to use powers beyond their +sphere. It had been his purpose to bid her remember Phaeton, who had +almost kindled a conflagration in the world, when he attempted, in the +chariot of his father, Phœbus Apollo, to guide the horses of the sun. But +this was unnecessary, for he had scarcely assented to the question ere, +with passionate vehemence, she ordered him to destroy before her eyes the +cup which had brought so much misfortune. +</p> +<p> +The priest feigned that her desire harmonized with a resolution which he +had himself formed. +</p> +<p> +In fact, before her arrival, he had feared that the goblet might be used +in some fatal manner if Octavianus should take possession of the city and +country, and the wonder-working vessel should fall into his hands. +Nektanebus had made the cup for Egypt. To wrest it from the foreign ruler +was acting in the spirit of the last king in whose veins had flowed the +blood of the Pharaohs, and who had toiled with enthusiastic devotion for +the independence and liberty of his people. To destroy this man’s +marvellous work rather than deliver it to the Roman conqueror seemed to +the chief priest, after the Queen’s command, a sacred duty, and as +such he represented it to be when he commanded the smelting furnace to be +fired and the cup transformed into a shapeless mass before the eyes of +Cleopatra. +</p> +<p> +While the metal was melting he eagerly told the Queen how easily she could +dispense with the vessel which owed its magic power to the mighty Isis. +</p> +<p> +The spell of woman’s charms was also a gift of the goddess. It would +suffice to render Antony’s heart soft and yielding as the fire melted the +gold. Perhaps the Imperator had forfeited, with the Queen’s respect, her +love—the most priceless of blessings. He, Anubis, would regard this +as a great boon of the Deity; “for,” he concluded, “Mark Antony is the +cliff which will shatter every effort to secure to my royal mistress +undiminished the heritage which has come to her and her children from +their ancestors, and preserve the independence and prosperity of this +beloved land. This cup was a costly treasure. The throne and prosperity of +Egypt are worthy of greater sacrifices. But I know that there is none +harder for a woman to make than her love.” +</p> +<p> +The meaning of the old man’s words Cleopatra learned the following +morning, when she granted the first interview to Timagenes, Octavianus’s +envoy. +</p> +<p> +The keen-witted, brilliant man, who had been one of her best teachers and +with whom, when a pupil, she had had many an argument, was kindly +received, and fulfilled his commission with consummate skill. +</p> +<p> +The Queen listened attentively to his representations, showed him that her +own intellect had not lost in flexibility, though it had gained power; and +when she dismissed him, with rich gifts and gracious words, she knew that +she could preserve the independence of her beloved native land and retain +the throne for herself and her children if she would surrender Antony to +the conqueror or to him, as “the person acting,” or—these were +Timagenes’s own words—“remove him forever from the play whose end +she had the power to render either brilliant or fateful.” +</p> +<p> +When she was again alone her heart throbbed so passionately and her soul +was in such a tumult of agitation that she felt unable to attend the +appointed meeting of the Council of the crown. She deferred the session +until the following day, and resolved to go out upon the sea, to endeavour +to regain her composure. +</p> +<p> +Antony had refused to see her. This wounded her. The thought of the goblet +and its evil influences had by no means passed from her memory with the +destruction of the vessel caused by one of those outbursts of passion to +which, in these days of disaster, she yielded more frequently than usual. +On the contrary, she felt the necessity of being alone, to collect her +thoughts and strive to dispel the clouds from her troubled soul. +</p> +<p> +The beaker had been one of the treasures of Isis, and the memory of it +recalled hours during which, in former days, she had often found composure +in the temple of the goddess. She wished to seek the sanctuary unnoticed +and, accompanied only by Iras and the chief Introducer, went, closely +veiled, to the neighbouring temple at the Corner of the Muses. +</p> +<p> +But she failed to find the object of her pilgrimage. The throng which +filled it to pray and offer sacrifices, and the fear of being recognized, +destroyed her calmness. +</p> +<p> +She was in the act of retiring, when Gorgias, the architect, followed by +an assistant carrying surveying instruments, advanced towards her. She +instantly called him to her side, and he informed her how wonderfully Fate +itself seemed to favour her plan of building. The mob had destroyed the +house of the old philosopher Didymus, and the grey-haired sage, to whom he +had offered the shelter of his home, was now ready to transfer the +property inherited from his ancestors, if her Majesty would assure him and +his family of her protection. +</p> +<p> +Then she asked to see the architect’s plan for joining the museum to the +sanctuary, and became absorbed in the first sketch, to which he had +devoted part of the night and morning. He showed it, and with eager +urgency Cleopatra commanded him to begin the building as soon as possible +and pursue the work night and day. What usually required months must be +completed in weeks. +</p> +<p> +Iras and the “Introducer,” clad in plain garments, had waited for her in +the temple court and, joined by the architect, accompanied her to the +unpretending litter standing at one of the side gates but, instead of +entering it, she ordered Gorgias to attend her to the garden. +</p> +<p> +The inspection proved that the architect was right and, even if the +mausoleum occupied a portion of it, and the street which separated it from +the Temple of Isis were continued along the shore of the sea, the +remainder would still be twice as large as the one belonging to the palace +at Lochias. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra’s thorough examination showed Gorgias that she had some definite +purpose in view. Her inquiry whether it would be possible to connect it +with the promontory of Lochias indicated what she had in mind, and the +architect answered in the affirmative. It was only necessary to tear down +some small buildings belonging to the Crown and a little temple of +Berenike at the southern part of the royal harbour. The arm of the +Agathodæmon Canal which entered here had been bridged long ago. +</p> +<p> +The new scene which would result from this change had been conjured before +the Queen’s mental vision with marvellous celerity, and she described it +in brief, vivid language to the architect. The garden should remain, but +must be enlarged from the Lochias to the bridge. Thence a covered +colonnade would lead to the palace. After Gorgias had assured her that all +this could easily be arranged, she gazed thoughtfully at the ground for a +time, and then gave orders that the work should be commenced at once, and +requested him to spare neither means nor men. +</p> +<p> +Gorgias foresaw a period of feverish toil, but it did not daunt him. With +such a master builder he was ready to roof the whole city. Besides, the +commission delighted him because it proved that the woman whose mausoleum +was to rise from the earth so swiftly still thought of enhancing the +pleasures of existence; for, though she wished the garden to remain +unchanged, she desired to see the colonnade and the remainder of the work +constructed of costly materials and in beautiful forms. When she bade him +farewell, Gorgias kissed her robe with ardent enthusiasm. +</p> +<p> +What a woman! True, she had not even raised her veil, and was attired in +plain dark clothing, but every gesture revealed the most perfect grace. +The arm and hand with which she pointed now here, now there, again seemed +to him fairly instinct with life; and he, who deemed perfection of form of +so much value, found it difficult to avert his eyes from her marvellous +symmetry. And her whole figure! What lines, what genuine aristocratic +elegance, and warm, throbbing life! +</p> +<p> +That morning when Helena, now an inmate of his own home, greeted him, he +had essayed to compare her, mentally, with Cleopatra, but speedily +desisted. The man to whom Hebe proffers nectar does not ask for even the +best wine of Byblus. A feeling of grateful, cheerful satisfaction, +difficult to describe, stole over him when the reserved, quiet Helena +addressed him so warmly and cordially; but the image of Cleopatra +constantly thrust itself between them, and it was difficult for him to +understand himself. He had loved many women in succession, and now his +heart throbbed for two at once, and the Queen was the brighter of the two +stars whose light entranced him. Therefore his honest soul would have +considered it a crime to woo Helena now. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra knew what an ardent admirer she had won in the able architect, +and the knowledge pleased her. She had used no goblet to gain <i>him</i>. +Doubtless he would begin to build the mausoleum the next morning. The +vault must have space for several coffins. Antony had more than once +expressed the desire to be buried beside her, wherever he might die, and +this had occurred ere she possessed the beaker. She must in any case grant +him the same favour, no matter in what place or by whose hand he met +death, and the bedimmed light of his existence was but too evidently +nearing extinction. If she spared him, Octavianus would strike him from +the ranks of the living, and she—— Again she was overpowered by +the terrible, feverish restlessness which had induced her to command the +destruction of the goblet, and had brought her to the temple. She could +not return in this mood to meet her councillors, receive visitors, greet +her children. This was the birthday of the twins; Charmian had reminded +her of it and undertaken to provide the gifts. How could she have found +time and thought for such affairs? +</p> +<p> +She had returned from the chief priest late in the evening, yet had asked +for a minute description of the condition in which they found Mark Antony. +The report made by Iras harmonized with the state in which she had herself +seen him during and after the battle. Ay, his brooding gloom seemed to +have deepened. Charmian had helped her dress in the morning, and had been +on the point of making her difficult confession, and owning that she had +aided Barine to escape the punishment of her royal mistress; but ere she +could begin, Timagenes was announced, for Cleopatra had not risen from +her couch until a late hour. +</p> +<p> +The object for which the Queen had sought the temple had not been gained; +but the consultation with Gorgias had diverted her mind, and the emotions +which the thought of her last resting-place had evoked now drowned +everything else, as the roar of the surf dominates the twittering of the +swallows on the rocky shore. +</p> +<p> +Ay, she needed calmness! She must weigh and ponder over many things in +absolute quietude, and this she could not obtain at Lochias. Then her +glance rested upon the little sanctuary of Berenike, which she had ordered +removed to make room for a garden near at hand, where the children could +indulge their love of creative work. It was empty. She need fear no +interruption there. The interior contained only a single, quiet, pleasant +chamber, with the image of Berenike. The “Introducer” commanded the guard +to admit no other visitors, and soon the little white marble, circular +room with its vaulted roof received the Queen. She sank down on one of the +bronze benches opposite to the statue. All was still; in this cool silence +her mind, trained to thought, could find that for which it longed—clearness +of vision, a plain understanding of her own feelings and position in the +presence of the impending decision. +</p> +<p> +At first her thoughts wandered to and fro like a dove ere it chooses the +direction of its flight; but after the question why she was having a tomb +built so hurriedly, when she would be permitted to live, her mind found +the right track. Among the Scythian guards, the Mauritanians, and Blemmyes +in the army there were plenty of savage fellows whom a word from her lips +and a handful of gold would have set upon the vanquished Antony, as the +huntsman’s “Seize him!” urges the hounds. A hint, and among the wretched +magicians and Magians in the Rhakotis, the Egyptian quarter of the city, +twenty men would have assassinated him by poison or wily snares; one +command to the Macedonians in the guard of the Mellakes or youths, and he +would be a captive that very day, and to-morrow, if she so ordered, on the +way to Asia, whither Octavianus, as Timagenes told her, had gone. +</p> +<p> +What prevented her from grasping the gold, giving the hint, issuing the +command? +</p> +<p> +Doubtless she thought of the magic goblet, now melted, which had +constrained him to cast aside honour, fame, and power, as worthless +rubbish, in order to obey her behest not to leave her; but though this +remembrance burdened her soul, it had no decisive influence. It was no one +thing which prisoned her hand and lips, but every fibre of her being, +every pulsation of her heart, every glance back into the past to the +confines of childhood. +</p> +<p> +Yet she listened to other thoughts also. They reminded her of her +children, the elation of power, love for the land of her ancestors, and +the peril which menaced it without her, the bliss of seeing the light, and +the darkness, the silence, the dull rigidity of death, the destruction of +the body and the mind cherished and developed with so much care and toil, +the horrible torture which might be associated with the transition from +life to death—the act of dying. And what lay before her in the +existence which lasted an eternity? When she no longer breathed beneath +the sun, even if the death hour was deferred, and she found that not +Epicurus, who believed that with death all things ended, had been right, +but the ancient teachings of the Egyptians, what would await her in that +world beyond the grave if she purchased a few more years of life by the +murder or betrayal of her lover, her husband? +</p> +<p> +Yet perhaps the punishments inflicted upon the condemned were but bugbears +invented by the priesthood, which guarded the regulation of the state in +order to curb the unruly conduct of the populace and terrify the turbulent +transgressors of the law. And, whispered the daring Greek spirit, in the +abode of the condemned, not in the Garden of Aalu, the Elysian Fields of +the Egyptians, she would meet her father and mother and all her wicked +ancestors down to Euergetes I, who was succeeded by the infamous +Philopater. Thus the thought of the other world became an antecedent so +uncertain as to permit no definite inference, and might therefore be left +out of the account. How would—this must be the form of the question—the +years purchased by the murder or betrayal of one whom she loved shape +themselves for her? +</p> +<p> +During the night the image of the murdered man would drive sleep from her +couch, and the Furies, the Diræ, as the Roman Antony called them, who +pursue murderers with the serpent scourge, were no idle creations of +poetic fancy, but fully symbolized the restlessness of the criminal, +driven to and fro by the pangs of conscience. The chief good, the painless +happiness of the Epicureans, was forever lost to those burdened by such +guilt. +</p> +<p> +And during the hours of the day and evening? +</p> +<p> +Ay, then she would be free to heap pleasure on pleasure. But for whom +were the festivals to be celebrated; with whom could she share them? For +many a long year no banquet, no entertainment had given her enjoyment +without Mark Antony. For whom did she adorn herself or strive to stay the +vanishing charm? And how soon would anguish of soul utterly destroy the +spell, which was slowly, slowly, yet steadily diminishing, and, when the +mirror revealed wrinkles which the skill of no Olympus could efface, when +she—— No, she was not created to grow old! Did the few years of +life which must contain so much misery really possess a value great enough +to surrender the right of being called by present and future generations +the bewitching Cleopatra, the most irresistible of women? +</p> +<p> +And the children? +</p> +<p> +Yes, it would have been delightful to see them grow up and occupy the +throne, but serious, decisive doubts soon blended even with an idea so +rich in joy. +</p> +<p> +How glorious to greet Cæsarion as sovereign of the world in Octavianus’s +place! But how could the dreamer, whose first love affair had caused the +total sacrifice of dignity and violation of the law, and who now seemed to +have once more relapsed into the old state of torpor, attain the position? +</p> +<p> +The other children inspired fair hopes, and how beautiful it appeared to +the mother’s heart to see Antonius Helios as King of Egypt; Cleopatra +Selene with her first child in her arms; and little Alexander a noble +statesman and hero, rich in virtue and talents! Yet, what would they, +Antony’s children, whose education she hoped Archibius would direct, feel +for the mother who had been their father’s murderess? +</p> +<p> +She shuddered at the thought, remembering the hours when her childish +heart had shed tears of blood over the infamous mother whom her father had +execrated. And Queen Tryphœna, whom history recorded as a monster, had +not killed her husband, but merely thrust him from the throne. +</p> +<p> +Arsinoë’s execrations of her mother and sister came back to her memory, +and the thought that the rosy lips of the twins and her darling Alexander +could ever open to curse her,—the idea that the children would ever +raise their beloved hands to point at her, the wicked murderess of their +father, with horror and scorn—— No, no, and again no! She would not +purchase a few more years of valueless life at the cost of this +humiliation and shame. +</p> +<p> +Purchase of whom? +</p> +<p> +Of that Octavianus who had robbed her son of the heritage of his father, +Cæsar, and whose mention in the will was like an imputation on her +fidelity—the cold-hearted, calculating upstart, whose nature from +their first meeting in Rome had repelled, rebuffed, chilled her; of the +man by whose cajolery and power her husband—for in her own eyes and +those of the Egyptians Antony held this position—had been induced to +wed his sister, Octavia, and thereby stamp her, Cleopatra, as merely his +love, cast a doubt upon the legitimate birth of her children; of the false +friend of the trusting Antony who, before the battle of Actium, had most +deeply humiliated and insulted both! +</p> +<p> +On the contrary, her royal pride rebelled against obeying the command of +such a man to commit the most atrocious deed; and from childhood this +pride had been as much a part of her nature as her breath and the +pulsation of her heart. And yet, for her children’s sake, she might +perhaps have incurred this disgrace, had it not been at the same time the +grave of the best and noblest things which she desired to implant in the +young souls of the twins and Alexander. +</p> +<p> +While thinking of the children’s curses she had risen from her seat. Why +should she reflect and consider longer? She had found the clear perception +she sought. Let Gorgias hasten the building of the tomb. Should Fate +demand her life, she would not resist if she were permitted to preserve it +only at the cost of murder or base treachery. Her lover’s was already +forfeited. At his side she had enjoyed a radiant, glowing, peerless bliss, +of which the world still talked with envious amazement. At his side, when +all was over, she would rest in the grave, and compel the world to +remember with respectful sympathy the royal lovers, Antony and Cleopatra. +Her children should be able to think of her with untroubled hearts, and +not even the shadow of a bitter feeling, a warning thought, should deter +them from adorning their parents’ grave with flowers, weeping at its foot, +invoking and offering sacrifices to their spirits. +</p> +<p> +Then she glanced at the statue of Berenike, who had also once worn on her +brow the double crown of Egypt. She, too, had early died a violent death; +she, too, had known how to love. The vow to sacrifice her beautiful hair +to Aphrodite if her husband returned uninjured from the Syrian war had +rendered her name illustrious. “Berenike’s Hair” was still to be seen as a +constellation in the night heavens. +</p> +<p> +Though this woman had sinned often and heavily, one act of loyal love had +made her an honoured, worshipped princess. She—Cleopatra—would do +something still greater. The sacrifice which she intended to impose upon +herself would weigh far more heavily in the balance than a handful of +beautiful tresses, and would comprise sovereignty and life. +</p> +<p> +With head erect and a sense of proud self-reliance she gazed at the noble +marble countenance of the Cyrenian queen. Ere entering the sanctuary she +had imagined that she knew how the criminals whom she had sentenced to +death must feel. Now that she herself had done with life, she felt as if +she were relieved from a heavy burden, and yet her heart ached, and—especially +when she thought of her children—she was overwhelmed with the +emotion which is the most painful of all forms of compassion—pity +for herself. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch18"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER XVIII. +</h3> + +<p> +When Cleopatra left the temple, Iras marvelled at the change in her +appearance. The severe tension which had given her beautiful face a shade +of harshness had yielded to an expression of gentle sadness that enhanced +its charm, yet her features quickly brightened as her attendant pointed to +the procession which was just entering the forecourt of the palace. +</p> +<p> +In Alexandria and throughout Egypt birthdays were celebrated as far as +possible. Therefore, to do honour to the twins, the children of the city +had been sent to offer their congratulations, and at the same time to +assure their royal mother of the love and devotion of the citizens. +</p> +<p> +The return to the palace occupied only a few minutes, and as Cleopatra, +hastily donning festal garments, gazed down at the bands of children, it +seemed as if Fate by this fair spectacle had given her a sign of approval +of her design. +</p> +<p> +She was soon standing hand in hand with the twins upon the balcony before +which the procession had halted. Hundreds of boys and girls of the same +age as the prince and princess had flocked thither, the former bearing +bouquets, the latter small baskets filled with lilies and roses. Every +head was crowned with a wreath, and many of the girls wore garlands of +flowers. A chorus of youths and maidens sang a festal hymn, beseeching the +gods to grant the royal mother and children every happiness; the leader of +the chorus of girls made a short address in the name of the city, and +during this speech the children formed in ranks, the tallest in the rear, +the smallest in the front, and the others between according to their +height. The scene resembled a living garden, in which rosy faces were the +beautiful flowers. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra thanked the citizens for the charming greeting sent to her by +those whom they held dearest, and assured them that she returned their +love. Her eyes grew dim with tears as she went with her three children to +the throng who offered their congratulations, and an unusually pretty +little girl whom she kissed threw her arms around her as tenderly as if +she were her own mother. And how beautiful was the scene when the girls +strewed the contents of their little baskets on the ground before her, and +the boys, with many a ringing shout and loving wish, offered the bouquets +to her and the twins! +</p> +<p> +Charmian had not forgotten to provide the gifts; and when the chamberlains +and waiting-women led the children into a large hall to offer them +refreshments, the Queen’s eyes sparkled so brightly that the companion of +her childhood ventured to make her difficult confession. +</p> +<p> +And, as so often happens, the event we most dread shows, when it actually +occurs, a friendly or indifferent aspect; this was the case now. Nothing +in life is either great or small—the one may be transformed to the +other, according to the things with which it is compared. The tallest man +becomes a dwarf beside a rocky giant of the mountain chain, the smallest +is a Titan to the swarming ants in the forest. The beggar seizes as a +treasure what the rich man scornfully casts aside. That which the day +before yesterday seemed to Cleopatra unendurable, roused her keenest +anxiety, robbed her of part of her night’s repose, and induced her to +adopt strenuous measures, now appeared trivial and scarcely worthy of +consideration. +</p> +<p> +Yesterday and to-day had brought events and called up questions which +forced Barine’s disappearance into the realm of unimportant matters. +</p> +<p> +Charmian’s confession was preceded by the statement that she longed for +rest yet, nevertheless, was ready to remain with her royal friend, in +every situation, until she no longer desired her services and sent her +away. But she feared that this moment had come. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra interrupted her with the assurance that she was speaking of +something utterly impossible; and when Charmian disclosed Barine’s escape, +and admitted that it was she who had aided the flight of the innocent and +sorely threatened granddaughter of Didymus, the Queen started up angrily +and frowned, but it was only for a moment. Then, with a smile, she shook +her finger at her friend, embraced her, and gravely but kindly assured her +that, of all vices, ingratitude was most alien to her nature. The +companion of her childhood had bestowed so many proofs of faithfulness, +love, self-sacrifice, and laborious service in her behalf that they could +not be long outweighed by a single act of wilful disobedience. An abundant +supply would still remain, by virtue of which she might continue to sin +without fearing that Cleopatra would ever part from her Charmian. +</p> +<p> +The latter again perceived that nothing on earth could be hostile or sharp +enough to sever the bond which united her to this woman. When her lips +overflowed with the gratitude which filled her heart, Cleopatra admitted +that it seemed as if, in aiding Barine’s escape, she had rendered her a +service. The caution with which Charmian had concealed Barine’s refuge had +not escaped her notice, and she did not ask to learn it. It was enough for +her that the dangerous beauty was out of Cæsarion’s reach. As for Antony, +a wall now separated him from the world, and consequently from the woman +who, spite of Alexas’s accusations, had probably never stood closer to his +heart. +</p> +<p> +Charmian now eagerly strove to show the Queen what had induced the Syrian +to pursue Barine so vindictively. It was evident—and scarcely needed +proof—that Mark Antony’s whole acquaintanceship with the old +scholar’s granddaughter had been far from leading to any tender relation. +But Cleopatra gave only partial attention. The man whom she had loved with +every pulsation of her heart already seemed to her only a dear memory. She +did not forget the happiness enjoyed with and through him, or the wrong +she had done by the use of the magic goblet; yet with the wall on the +Choma, which divided him from her and the rest of the world, and her +command to have the mausoleum built, she imagined that the season of love +was over. Any new additions to this chapter of the life of her heart were +but the close. Even the jealousy which had clouded the happiness of her +love like a fleeting, rapidly changing shadow, she believed she had now +renounced forever. +</p> +<p> +While Charmian protested that no one save Dion had ever been heard with +favour by Barine, and related many incidents of her former life, +Cleopatra’s thoughts were with Antony. Like the image of the beloved dead, +the towering figure of the Roman hero rose before her mind, but she +recalled him only as he was prior to the battle of Actium. She desired and +expected nothing more from the broken-spirited man, whose condition was +perhaps her own fault. But she had resolved to atone for her guilt, and +would do so at the cost of throne and life. This settled the account. +Whatever her remaining span of existence might add or subtract, was part +of the bargain. +</p> +<p> +The entrance of Alexas interrupted her. With fiery passion he expressed +his regret that he had been defrauded by base intrigues of the right +bestowed upon him to pass sentence upon a guilty woman. This was the more +difficult to bear because he was deprived of the possibility of providing +for the pursuit of the fugitive. Antony had honoured him with the +commission to win Herod back to his cause. He was to leave Alexandria that +very night. As nothing could be expected in this matter from the +misanthropic Imperator, he hoped that the Queen would avenge such an +offence to her dignity, and adopt severe measures towards the singer and +her last lover, Dion, who with sacrilegious hands had wounded the son of +Cæsar. +</p> +<p> +But Cleopatra, with royal dignity, kept him within the limits of his +position, commanded him not to mention the affair to her again, and then, +with a sorrowful smile, wished him success with Herod, in whose return to +the lost cause of Antony, however, much as she prized the skill of the +mediator, she did not believe. +</p> +<p> +When he had retired, she exclaimed to Charmian: “Was I blind? This man is +a traitor! We shall discover it. Wherever Dion has taken his young wife, +let her be carefully concealed, not from me, but from this Syrian. It is +easier to defend one’s self against the lion than the scorpion. You, my +friend, will see that Archibius seeks me this very day. I must talk with +him, and—you no longer have any thought of a parting? Another will +come soon enough, which will forever forbid these lips from kissing your +dear face.” +</p> +<p> +As she spoke, she again clasped the companion of her childhood in her +arms, and when Iras entered to request an audience for Lucilius, Antony’s +most faithful friend, Cleopatra, who had noticed the younger woman’s +envious glance at the embrace, said: “Was I mistaken in fancying that you +imagined yourself slighted for Charmian, who is an older friend? That +would be wrong; for I love and need you both. You are her niece, and +indebted to her for much kindness from your earliest childhood. So, even +though you will lose the joy of revenge upon a hated enemy, forget what +has happened, as I did, and maintain your former affectionate +companionship. I will reward you for it with the only thing that the +daughter of the wealthy Krates cannot purchase, yet which she probably +rates at no low value—the love of her royal friend.” +</p> +<p> +With these words she clasped Iras also in a close embrace, and when the +latter left the room to summon Lucilius, she thought: “No woman has ever +won so much love; perhaps that is why she possesses so great a treasure of +it, and can afford such unspeakable happiness by its bestowal. Or is she +so much beloved because she entered the world full of its wealth, and +dispenses it as the sun diffuses light? Surely that must be the case. I +have reason to believe it, for whom did I ever love save the Queen? No +one, not even myself, and I know no one in whose love for me I can +believe. But why did Dion, whom I loved so fervently, disdain me? Fool! +Why did Mark Antony prefer Cleopatra to Octavia, who was not less fair, +whose heart was his, and whose hand held the sovereignty of half the +world?” +</p> +<p> +Passing on as she spoke, she soon returned, ushering the Roman Lucilius +into the presence of the Queen. A gallant deed had bound this man to +Antony. After the battle of Philippi, when the army of the republicans +fled, Brutus had been on the point of being seized by the enemy’s +horsemen; but Lucilius, at the risk of being cut down, had personated him, +and thereby, though but for a short time, rescued him. This had seemed to +Antony unusual and noble and, in his generous manner, he had not only +forgiven him, but bestowed his favour upon him. Lucilius was grateful, and +gave him the same fidelity he had showed to Brutus. At Actium he had +risked Antony’s favour to prevent his deserting Cleopatra after the +battle, and then accompanied him in his flight. Now he was bearing him +company in his seclusion on the Choma. +</p> +<p> +The grey-haired man who, but a short time before, had retained all the +vigour of youth, approached the Queen with bowed head and saddened heart. +His face, so regular in its contours, had undergone a marked change within +the past few weeks. The cheeks were sunken, the features had grown +sharper, and there was a sorrowful expression in the eyes, which, when +informing Cleopatra of his friend’s condition, glittered with tears. +</p> +<p> +Before the hapless battle he was one of Cleopatra’s most enthusiastic +admirers; but since he had been forced to see his friend and benefactor +risk fame, happiness, and honour to follow the Queen, he had cherished a +feeling of bitter resentment towards her. He would certainly have spared +himself this mission, had he not been sure that she who had brought her +lover to ruin was the only person who could rouse him from spiritless +languor to fresh energy and interest in life. +</p> +<p> +From motives of friendship, urged by no one, he came unbidden to the woman +whom he had formerly so sincerely admired, to entreat her to cheer the +unfortunate man, rouse him, and remind him of his duty. He had little news +to impart; for on the voyage she had herself witnessed long enough the +pitiable condition of her husband. Now Antony was beginning to be content +in it, and this was what most sorely troubled the faithful friend. +</p> +<p> +The Imperator had called the little palace which he occupied on the Choma +his Timonium, because he compared himself with the famous Athenian +misanthrope who, after fortune abandoned him, had also been betrayed by +many of his former friends. Even at Tænarum he had thought of returning +to the Choma, and by means of a wall, which would separate it from the +mainland, rendering it as inaccessible as—according to rumour—the +grave of Timon at Halæ near Athens. Gorgias had erected it, and whoever +wished to visit the hermit was forced to go by sea and request admittance, +which was granted to few. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra listened to Lucilius with sympathy, and then asked whether there +was no way of cheering or comforting the wretched man. +</p> +<p> +“No, your Majesty,” he replied. “His favourite occupation is to recall +what he once possessed, but only to show the uselessness of these +memories. ‘What joys has life not offered me?’ he asks, and then adds: +‘But they were repeated again and again, and after being enjoyed for the +tenth time they became monotonous and lost their charm. Then they caused +satiety to the verge of loathing.’ Only necessary things, such as bread +and water, he says, possess real value; but he desires neither, because he +has even less taste for them than for the dainties which spoil a man’s +morrow. Yesterday in a specially gloomy hour, he spoke of gold. This was +perhaps most worthy of desire. The mere sight of it awakened pleasant +hopes, because it might afford so many gratifications. Then he laughed +bitterly, exclaiming that those joys were the very ones which produced the +most disagreeable satiety. Even gold was not worth the trouble of +stretching out one’s hand. +</p> +<p> +“He is fond of enlarging upon such fancies, and finds images to make his +meaning clear. +</p> +<p> +“ ‘In the snow upon the highest mountain-peak the feet grow cold,’ he said. +‘In the mire they are warm, but the dark mud is ugly and clings to them.’ +</p> +<p> +“Then I remarked that between the morass and the mountain-snows lie sunny +valleys where life would be pleasant; but he flew into a rage, vehemently +protesting that he would never be content with the pitiable middle course +of Horace. Then he exclaimed: ‘Ay, I am vanquished. Octavianus and his +Agrippa are the conquerors; but if a rock mutilates or an elephant’s +clumsy foot crushes me, I am nevertheless of a higher quality than +either.’ ” +</p> +<p> +“There spoke the old Mark Antony!” cried Cleopatra; but again Lucilius’s +loyal heart throbbed with resentment against the woman who had fostered +the recklessness which had brought his powerful friend to ruin, and he +continued: +</p> +<p> +“But he often sees himself in a different light. ‘No writer could invent a +more unworthy life than mine,’ he exclaimed recently. ‘A farce ending in a +tragedy.’ ” +</p> +<p> +Lucilius might have added still harsher sayings, but the sorrowful +expression in the tearful eyes of the afflicted Queen silenced them upon +his lips. +</p> +<p> +Yet Cleopatra’s name blended with most of the words uttered by the +broken-spirited man. Sometimes it was associated with the most furious +reproaches, but more frequently with expressions of boundless delight and +wild outbursts of fervent longing, and this was what inspired Lucilius +with the hope that the Queen’s influence would be effectual with his +friend. Therefore he repeated some especially ardent words, to which +Cleopatra listened with grateful joy. +</p> +<p> +Yet, when Lucilius paused, she remarked that doubtless the misanthropist +had spoken of her, and probably of Octavia also, in quite a different way. +She was prepared for the worst, for she was one of the rocks against which +his greatness had been shattered. +</p> +<p> +This reminded Lucilius of the comment Antony had made upon the three women +whom he had wedded, and he answered reluctantly: “Fulvia, the wife of his +youth—I knew the bold, hot-blooded woman, the former wife of Clodius—he +called the tempest which swelled his sails.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, Yes!” cried Cleopatra. “So she did. He owes her much; but I, too, am +indebted to the dead Fulvia. She taught him to recognize and yield to +woman’s power.” +</p> +<p> +“Not always to his advantage,” retorted Lucilius, whose resentment was +revived by the last sentence and, without heeding the faint flush on the +Queen’s cheek, he added: “Of Octavia he said that she was the straight +path which leads to happiness, and those who are content to walk in it are +acceptable to gods and men.” +</p> +<p> +“Then why did he not suffer it to content him?” cried Cleopatra +wrathfully. +</p> +<p> +“Fulvia’s school,” replied the Roman, “was probably the last where he +would learn the moderation which—as you know—is so alien to +his nature. His opinion of the quiet valleys and middle course you have +just heard.” +</p> +<p> +“But I, what have <i>I</i> been to him?” urged the Queen. +</p> +<p> +Lucilius bent his gaze for a short time on the floor, then answered +hesitatingly: +</p> +<p> +“You asked to hear, and the Queen’s command must be obeyed. He compared +your Majesty to a delicious banquet given to celebrate a victory, at which +the guests, crowned with garlands, revel <i>before</i> the battle——” +</p> +<p> +“Which is lost,” said the Queen hurriedly, in a muffled voice. “The +comparison is apt. Now, after the defeat, it would be absurd to prepare +another feast. The tragedy is closing, so the play (doubtless he said so) +which preceded it would be but a wearisome repetition if performed a +second time. One thing, it is true, seems desirable—a closing act of +reconciliation. If you think it is in my power to recall my husband to +active life, rely upon me. The banquet of which he spoke occupied long +years. The dessert will consume little time, but I am ready to serve it. +When I asked permission to visit him he refused. What plan of meeting have +you arranged?” +</p> +<p> +“That I will leave to your feminine delicacy of feeling,” replied +Lucilius. “Yet I have come with a request whose fulfilment will perhaps +contain the answer. Eros, Mark Antony’s faithful body-slave, humbly +petitions your Majesty to grant him a few minutes’ audience. You know the +worthy fellow. He would die for you and his master, and he—I once +heard from your lips the remark of King Antiochus, that no man was great +to his body-slave—thus Eros sees his master’s weaknesses and lofty +qualities from a nearer point of view than we, and he is shrewd. Antony +gave him his freedom long ago, and if your Majesty does not object to +receiving a man so low in station——” +</p> +<p> +“Let him come,” replied Cleopatra. “Your demand upon me is just. +Unhappily, I am but too well aware of the atonement due your friend. +Before you came, I was engaged in making preparations for the fulfilment +of one of his warmest wishes.” +</p> +<p> +With these words she dismissed the Roman. Her feelings as she watched his +departure were of very mingled character. The yearning for the happiness +of which she had been so long deprived had again awaked, while the unkind +words which he had applied to her still rankled in her heart. But the door +had scarcely closed behind Lucilius when the usher announced a deputation +of the members of the museum. +</p> +<p> +The learned gentlemen came to complain of the wrong which had been done to +their colleague, Didymus, and also to express their loyalty during these +trying times. Cleopatra assured them of her favour, and said that she had +already offered ample compensation to the old philosopher. In a certain +sense she was one of themselves. They all knew that, from early youth, she +had honoured and shared their labours. In proof of this, she would present +to the library of the museum the two hundred thousand volumes from +Pergamus, one of the most valuable gifts Mark Antony had ever bestowed +upon her, and which she had hitherto regarded merely as a loan. This she +hoped would repay Didymus for the injury which, to her deep regret, had +been inflicted upon him, and at least partially repair the loss sustained +by the former library of the museum during the conflagration in the +Bruchium. +</p> +<p> +The sages, eagerly assuring her of their gratitude and devotion, retired. +Most of them were personally known to Cleopatra who, to their mutual +pleasure and advantage, had measured her intellectual powers with the most +brilliant minds of their body. +</p> +<p> +The sun had already set, when a procession of the priests of Serapis, the +chief god of the city, whose coming had been announced the day before, +appeared at Lochias. Accompanied by torch and lantern bearers, it moved +forward with slow and solemn majesty. In harmony with the nature of +Serapis, there were many reminders of death. +</p> +<p> +The meaning of every image, every standard, every shrine, every +peculiarity of the music and singing, was familiar to the Queen. Even the +changing colours of the lights referred to the course of growth and decay +in the universe and in human life, and the magnificent close of the chant +of homage which represented the reception of the royal soul into the +essence of the deity, the apotheosis of the sovereign, was well suited to +stir the heart; for a sea of light unexpectedly flooded the whole +procession and, while its glow irradiated the huge pile of the palace, the +sea with its forest of ships and masts, and the shore with its temples, +pylons, obelisks, and superb buildings, all the choruses, accompanied by +the music of sackbuts, cymbals, and lutes, blended in a mighty hymn, whose +waves of sound rose to the star-strewn sky and reached the open sea beyond +the Pharos. +</p> +<p> +Many a symbolical image suggested death and the resurrection, defeat and a +victory following it by the aid of great Serapis; and when the torches +retired, vanishing in the darkness, with the last, notes of the chanting +of the priests, Cleopatra, raised her head, feeling as if the vow she had +made during the gloomy singing of the aged men and the extinguishing of +the torches had received the approval of the deity brought by her +forefathers to Alexandria and enthroned there to unite in his own person +the nature of the Greek and the Egyptian gods. +</p> +<p> +Her tomb was to be built and, if destiny was fulfilled, to receive her +lover and herself. She had perceived from Antony’s bitter words, as well +as the looks and tones of Lucilius, that he, as well as the man to whom +her heart still clung with indissoluble bonds, held her responsible for +Actium and the fall of his greatness. +</p> +<p> +The world, she knew, would imitate them, but it should learn that if love +had robbed the greatest man of his day of fame and sovereignty, that love +had been worthy of the highest price. +</p> +<p> +The belief which had just been symbolically represented to her—that +it was allotted to the vanishing light to rise again in new and radiant +splendour—she would maintain for the present, though the best +success could scarcely lead to anything more than merely fanning the +glimmering spark and deferring its extinction. +</p> +<p> +For herself there was no longer any great victory to win which would be +worth the conflict. Yet the weapons must not rest until the end. Antony +must not perish, growling, like a second Timon, or a wild beast caught in +a snare. She would rekindle, though but for the last blaze, the fire of +his hero-nature, which blind love for her and the magic spell that had +enabled her to bind his will had covered for a time with ashes. +</p> +<p> +While listening to the resurrection hymn of the priests of Serapis, she +had asked herself if it might not be possible to give Antony, when he had +been roused to fresh energy, the son of Cæsar as a companion in arms. +True, she had found the boy in a mood far different from the one for which +she had hoped. If he had once been carried on to a bold deed, it seemed to +have exhausted his energy; for he remained absorbed in the most pitiable +love-sickness. Yet he had not recovered from his illness. When he was +better he would surely wake to active interest in the events which +threatened to exert so great an influence on his own existence and, like +the humblest slave, lament the defeat of Actium. Hitherto he had listened +to the tidings of battle which had reached his ears with an indifference +that seemed intelligible and pardonable only when attributed to his wound. +</p> +<p> +His tutor Rhodon had just requested a leave of absence, remarking that +Cæsarion would not lack companions, since he was expecting Antyllus and +other youths of his own age. A flood of light streamed from the windows of +the reception hall of the “King of kings.” There was still time to seek +him and make him understand what was at stake. Ah! if she could but +succeed in awaking his father’s spirit! If that culpable attack should +prove the harbinger of future deeds of manly daring! +</p> +<p> +No interview with him as yet had encouraged this expectation, but a +mother’s heart easily sees, even in disappointment, a step which leads to +a new hope. When Charmian entered to announce Antony’s body-slave, she +sent word to him to wait, and requested her friend to accompany her to her +son. +</p> +<p> +As they approached the apartments occupied by Cæsarion, Antyllus’s loud +voice reached them through the open door, whose curtain was only half +drawn. The first word which the Queen distinguished was her own name; so, +motioning to her companion, she stood still. Barine was again the subject +of conversation. +</p> +<p> +Antony’s son was relating what Alexas had told him. Cleopatra, the Syrian +had asserted, intended to send the young beauty to the mines or into +exile, and severely punish Dion; but both had made their escape. The +Ephebi had behaved treacherously by taking sides with their foe. But this +was because they were not yet invested with their robes. He hoped to +induce his father to do this as soon as he shook off his pitiable +misanthropy. And he must also be persuaded to direct the pursuit of the +fugitives. “This will not be difficult,” he cried insolently, “for the old +man appreciates beauty, and has himself cast an eye on the singer. If they +capture her, I’ll guarantee nothing, you ‘King of kings!’ for, spite of +his grey beard, he can cut us all out with the women, and Barine—as +we have heard—doesn’t think a man of much importance until his locks +begin to grow thin. I gave Derketæus orders to send all his men in +pursuit. He’s as cunning as a fox, and the police are compelled to obey +him.” +</p> +<p> +“If I were not forced to lie here like a dead donkey, I would soon find +her,” sighed Cæsarion. “Night or day, she is never out of my mind. I have +already spent everything I possessed in the search. Yesterday I sent for +the steward Seleukus. What is the use of being my mother’s son, and the +fat little fellow isn’t specially scrupulous! He will do nothing, yet +there must be gold enough. The Queen has sunk millions in the sand on the +Syrian frontier of the Delta. There is to be a square hole or something of +the sort dug there to hide the fleet. I only half understand the absurd +plan. The money might have paid hundreds of spies. So talents are thrown +away, and the strong-box is locked against the son. But I’ll find one that +will open to me. I must have her, though I risk the crown. It always +sounds like a jeer when they call me the King of kings. I am not fit for +sovereignty. Besides, the throne will be seized ere I really ascend it. We +are conquered, and if we succeed in concluding a peace, which will secure +us life and a little more, we must be content. For my part, I shall be +satisfied with a country estate on the water, a sufficient supply of money +and, above all, Barine. What do I care for Egypt? As Cæsar’s son I ought +to have ruled Rome; but the immortals knew what they were doing when they +prompted my father to disinherit me. To govern the world one must have +less need of sleep. Really—you know it—I always feel tired, +even when I am well. People must let me alone! Your father, too, Antyllus, +is laying down his arms and letting things go as they will.” +</p> +<p> +“Ah, so he is!” cried Antony’s son indignantly. “But just wait! The +sleeping lion will wake again, and, when he uses his teeth and paws——” +</p> +<p> +“My mother will run away, and your father will follow her,” replied +Cæsarion with a melancholy smile, wholly untinged by scorn. “All is lost. +But conquered kings and queens are permitted to live. Cæsar’s son will +not be exhibited to the Quirites in the triumphal procession. Rhodon says +that there would be an insurrection if I appeared in the Forum. If I go +there again, it certainly will not be in Octavianus’s train. I am not +suited for that kind of ignominy. It would stifle me and, ere I would +grant any man the pleasure of dragging the son of Cæsar behind him to +increase his own renown, I would put an end—ten, nay, a hundred +times over, in the good old Roman fashion, to my life, which is by no +means especially attractive. What is sweeter than sound sleep, and who +will disturb and rouse me when Death has lowered his torch before me? But +now I think I shall be spared this extreme. Whatever else they may inflict +upon me will scarcely exceed my powers of endurance. If any one has +learned contentment it is I. The King of kings and Co-Regent of the Great +Queen has been trained persistently, and with excellent success, to be +content. What should I be, and what <i>am</i> I? Yet I do not complain, and wish +to accuse no one. We need not summon Octavianus, and when he is here let +him take what he will if he only spares the lives of my mother, the twins, +and little Alexander, whom I love, and bestows on me the estate—the +main thing is that it must be full of fishponds—of which I spoke. +The private citizen Cæsarion, who devotes his time to fishing and the +books he likes to read, will gladly be allowed to choose a wife to suit +his own taste. The more humble her origin, the more easily I shall win the +consent of the Roman guardian.” +</p> +<p> +“Do you know, Cæsarion,” interrupted Antony’s unruly son, leaning back on +the cushions and stretching his feet farther in front of him, “if you were +not the King of kings I should be inclined to call you a base, +mean-natured fellow! One who has the good fortune to be the son of Julius +Cæsar ought not to forget it so disgracefully. My gall overflows at your +whimpering. By the dog! It was one of my most senseless pranks to take you +to the singer. I should think there would be other things to occupy the +mind of the King of kings. Besides, Barine cares no more for you than the +last fish you caught. She showed that plainly enough. I say once more, if +Derketæus’s men succeed in capturing the beauty who has robbed you of +your senses, she won’t go with you to your miserable estate to cook the +fish you catch, for if we have her again, and my father holds out his hand +to her, all your labour will be in vain. He saw the fair enchantress only +twice, and had no time to become better acquainted, but she captured his +fancy and, if I remind him of her, who knows what will happen?” +</p> +<p> +Here Cleopatra beckoned to her companion and returned to her apartments +with drooping head. On reaching them, she broke the silence, saying: +“Listening, Charmian, is unworthy of a Queen; but if all listeners heard +things so painful, one need no longer guard keyholes and chinks of doors. +I must recover my calmness ere I receive Eros. One thing more. Is Barine’s +hiding-place secure?” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know—Archibius says so.” +</p> +<p> +“Very well. They are searching for her zealously enough, as you heard, and +she must not be found. I am glad that she did not set a snare for the boy. +How a jealous heart leads us astray! Were she here, I would grant her +anything to make amends for my unjust suspicion of her and Antony. And to +think that Alexas—but for your interposition he would have succeeded—meant +to send her to the mines! It is a terrible warning to be on my guard. +Against whom? First of all, my own weakness. This is a day of recognition. +A noble aim, but on the way the feet bleed, and the heart—ah! +Charmian, the poor, weak, disappointed heart!” +</p> +<p> +She sighed heavily, and supported her head on the arm resting upon the +table at her side. The polished, exquisitely grained surface of thya-wood +was worth a large estate; the gems in the rings and bracelets which +glittered on her hand and arm would have purchased a principality. This +thought entered her mind and, overpowered by a feeling of angry disgust, +she would fain have cast all the costly rubbish into the sea or the +destroying flames. +</p> +<p> +She would gladly have been a beggar, content with the barley bread of +Epicurus, she said to herself, if in return she could but have inspired +her son even with the views of the reckless blusterer Antyllus. Her worst +fears had not pictured Cæsarion so weak, so insignificant. She could no +longer rest upon her cushions; and while, with drooping head, she gazed +backward over the past, the accusing voice in her own breast cried out +that she was reaping what she had sowed. She had repressed, curbed the +boy’s awakening will to secure his obedience; understood how to prevent +any exercise of his ability or efforts in wider circles. +</p> +<p> +True, it had been done on many a pretext. Why should not her son taste the +quiet happiness which she had enjoyed in the garden of Epicurus? And was +not the requirement that whoever is to command must first learn to obey, +based upon old experiences? +</p> +<p> +But this was a day of reckoning and insight, and for the first time she +found courage to confess that her own burning ambition had marked out the +course of Cæsarion’s education. She had not repressed his talents from +cool calculation, but it had been pleasant to her to see him grow up free +from aspirations. She had granted the dreamer repose without arousing him. +How often she had rejoiced over the certainty that this son, on whom +Antony, after his victory over the Parthians, had bestowed the title of +Co-Regent, would never rebel against his mother’s guardianship! The +welfare of the state had doubtless been better secured in her trained +hands than in those of an inexperienced boy. And the proud consciousness +of power! Her heart swelled. So long as she lived she would remain Queen. +To transfer the sovereignty to another, whatever name he might bear, had +seemed to her impossible. Now she knew how little her son yearned for +lofty things. Her heart contracted. The saying “You reap what you sowed” +gave her no peace, and wherever she turned in her past life she perceived +the fruit of the seeds which she had buried in the ground. The field was +sinking under the burden of the ears of misfortune. The harvest was ripe +for the reaper; but, ere he raised the sickle, the owner’s claim must be +preserved. Gorgias must hasten the building of the tomb; the end could not +be long deferred. How to shape this worthily, if the victor left her no +other choice, had just been pointed out by the son of whom she was +ashamed. His father’s noble blood forbade him to bear the deepest ignominy +with the patience his mother had inculcated. +</p> +<p> +It had grown late ere she admitted Antony’s body-slave, but for her the +business of the night was just commencing. After he had gone she would be +engaged for hours with the commanders of the army, the fleet, the +fortifications. The soliciting of allies, too, must be carried on by means +of letters containing the most stirring appeals to the heart. +</p> +<p> +Eros, Antony’s body-slave, appeared. His kind eyes filled with tears at +the sight of the Queen. Grief had not lessened the roundness of his +handsome face, but the expression of mischievous, often insolent, gaiety +had given place to a sorrowful droop of the lips, and his fair hair had +begun to turn grey. +</p> +<p> +Lucilius’s information that Cleopatra had consented to make advances to +Antony had seemed like the rising of the sun after a long period of +darkness. In his eyes, not only his master, but everything else, must +yield to the power of the Queen. He had heard Antony at Tarsus inveigh +against “the Egyptian serpent,” protesting that he would make her pay so +dearly for her questionable conduct towards himself and the cause of +Cæsar that the treasure-houses on the Nile should be like an empty +wine-skin; yet, a few hours after, body and soul had been in her toils. So +it had continued till the battle of Actium. Now there was nothing more to +lose; but what might not Cleopatra bestow upon his master? He thought of +the delightful years during which his face had grown so round, and every +day fresh pleasures and spectacles, such as the world would never again +witness, had satiated eye and ear, palate and nostril,—nay, even +curiosity. If they could be repeated, even in a simpler form, so much the +better. His main—nay, almost his sole—desire was to release his lord +from this wretched solitude, this horrible misanthropy, so ill suited to +his nature. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra had kept him waiting two hours, but he would willingly have +loitered in the anteroom thrice as long if she only determined to follow +his counsel. It was worth considering, and Eros did not hesitate to give +it. No one could foresee how Antony would greet Cleopatra herself, so he +proposed that she should send Charmian—not alone, but with her +clever hunch-backed maid, to whom the Imperator himself had given the name +“Aisopion.” He liked Charmian, and could never see the dusky maid without +jesting with her. If his master could once be induced to show a cheerful +face to others besides himself, Eros, and perceived how much better it was +to laugh than to lapse into sullen reverie and anger, much would be +gained, and Charmian would do the rest, if she brought a loving message +from her royal mistress. +</p> +<p> +Hitherto Cleopatra had not interrupted him; but when she expressed the +opinion that a slave’s nimble tongue would have little power to change the +deep despondency of a man overwhelmed by the most terrible disaster, Eros +waved his short, broad hand, saying: +</p> +<p> +“I trust your Majesty will pardon the frankness of a man so humble in +degree, but those in high station often permit us to see what they hide +from one another. Only the loftiest and the lowliest, the gods and the +slaves, behold the great without disguise. May my ears be cropped if the +Imperator’s melancholy and misanthropy are so intense! All this is a +disguise which pleases him. You know how, in better days, he enjoyed +appearing as Dionysus, and with what wanton gaiety he played the part of +the god. Now he is hiding his real, cheerful face behind the mask of +unsocial melancholy, because he thinks the former does not suit this time +of misfortune. True, he often says things which make your skin creep, and +frequently broods mournfully over his own thoughts. But this never lasts +long when we are alone. If I come in with a very funny story, and he +doesn’t silence me at once, you can rely on his surpassing it with a still +more comical one. A short time ago I reminded him of the fishing party +when your Majesty had a diver fasten a salted herring on his hook. You +ought to have heard him laugh, and exclaim what happy days those were. The +lady Charmian need only remind him of them, and Aisopion spice the +allusion with a jest. I’ll give my nose—true, it’s only a small one, +but everybody values that feature most—if they don’t persuade him to +leave that horrible crow’s nest in the middle of the sea. They must remind +him of the twins and little Alexander; for when he permits me to talk +about them his brow smooths most speedily. He still speaks very often to +Lucilius and his other friends of his great plans of forming a powerful +empire in the East, with Alexandria as its principal city. His warrior +blood is not yet calm. A short time ago I was even ordered to sharpen the +curved Persian scimitar he likes to wield. One could not know what service +it might be, he said. Then he swung his mighty arm. By the dog! The +grey-haired giant still has the strength of three youths. When he is once +more with you, among warriors and battle chargers, all will be well.” +</p> +<p> +“Let us hope so.” replied Cleopatra kindly, and promised to follow his +advice. +</p> +<p> +When Iras, who had taken Charmian’s place, accompanied the Queen to her +chamber after several hours of toil, she found her silent and sad. Lost in +thought, she accepted her attendant’s aid, breaking her silence only after +she had gone to her couch. “This has been a hard day, Iras,” she said; “it +brought nothing save the confirmation of an old saying, perhaps the most +ancient in the world: ‘Every one wilt reap only what he sows. The plant +which grows from the seed you place in the earth may be crushed, but no +power in the world will compel the seed to develop differently or produce +fruit unlike what Nature has assigned to it.’ My seed was evil. This now +appears in the time of harvest. But we will yet bring a handful of good +wheat to the storehouses. We will provide for that while there is time. I +will talk with Gorgias early to-morrow morning. While we were building, +you showed good taste and often suggested new ideas. When Gorgias brings +the plans for the mausoleum you shall examine them with me. You have a +right to do so, for, if I am not mistaken, few will visit the finished +structure more frequently than my Iras.” +</p> +<p> +The girl started up and, raising her hand as if taking a vow, exclaimed: +“Your tomb will vainly wait my visit; your end will be mine also.” +</p> +<p> +“May the gods preserve your youth from it!” replied the Queen in a tone of +grave remonstrance. “We still live and will do battle.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch19"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER XIX. +</h3> + +<p> +Night brought little sleep to Cleopatra. Memory followed memory, plan was +added to plan. The resolve made the day before was the right one. To-day +she would begin its execution. Whatever might happen, she was prepared for +every contingency. +</p> +<p> +Ere she went to her work she granted a second audience to the Roman envoy. +Timagenes exerted all his powers of eloquence, skill in persuasion, wit, +and ingenuity. He again promised to Cleopatra life and liberty, and to her +children the throne; but when he insisted upon the surrender or death of +Mark Antony as the first condition of any further negotiations, Cleopatra +remained steadfast, and the ambassador set forth on his way home without +any pledge. +</p> +<p> +After he had gone, the Queen and Iras looked over the plans for the tomb +brought by Gorgias, but the intense agitation of her soul distracted +Cleopatra’s attention, and she begged him to come again at a later hour. +When she was alone, she took out the letters which Cæsar and Antony had +written to her. How acute, subtle, and tender were those of the former; +how ardent, impassioned, yet sincere were those of the mighty and fiery +orator, whose eloquence swept the listening multitudes with him, yet whom +her little hand had drawn wherever she desired! +</p> +<p> +Her heart throbbed faster when she thought of the meeting with Antony, now +close at hand; for Charmian had gone with the Nubian to invite him to join +her again. They had started several hours ago, and she awaited their +return with increasing impatience. She had summoned him for their last +mutual battle. That he would come she did not doubt. But could she succeed +in rekindling his courage? Two persons so closely allied should sink and +perish, still firmly united, in the final battle, if victory was denied. +</p> +<p> +Archibius was now announced. +</p> +<p> +It soothed her merely to gaze into the faithful countenance, which +recalled so many of her happiest memories. +</p> +<p> +She opened her whole soul to him without reserve, and he drew himself up +to his full height, as if restored to youth; while when she told him that +she would never sully herself by treachery to her lover and husband, and +had resolved to die worthy of her name, the expression of his eyes +revealed that she had chosen the right path. +</p> +<p> +Ere she had made the request that he should undertake the education and +guidance of the children, he voluntarily proposed to devote his best +powers to them. The plan of uniting Didymus’s garden with the Lochias and +giving it to the little ones also met with his approval. His sister had +already told him that Cleopatra had determined to build her tomb. He +hoped, he added, that its doors would not open to her for many years. +</p> +<p> +She shook her head sorrowfully, exclaiming: “Would that I could read every +face as I do yours! My friend Archibius wishes me a long life, if any one +does; but he is as wise as he is faithful, and therefore will consider +that earthly life is by no means a boon in every case. Besides, he says to +himself: ‘Events are impending over this Queen and woman, my friend, which +will perhaps render it advisable to make use of the great privilege which +the immortals bestow on human beings when it becomes desirable for them to +leave the stage of life. So let her build her tomb.’ Have I read the old +familiar book aright?” +</p> +<p> +“On the whole, yes,” he answered gravely. “But it is inscribed upon its +pages that a great princess and faithful mother can be permitted to set +forth on the last journey, whence there is no return, only when——” +</p> +<p> +“When,” she interrupted, “a shameful end threatens to fall upon the fair +beginning and brilliant middle period, as a swarm of locusts darkens the +air and devours and devastates the fields. I know it, and will act +accordingly.” +</p> +<p> +“And,” added Archibius, “this end also (faithful to your nature) you will +shape regally.—On my way here I met my sister near the Choma. You +sent her to your husband. He will grasp the proffered hand. Now that it is +necessary to stake everything or surrender, the grandson of Herakles will +again display his former heroic power. Perhaps, stimulated and encouraged +by the example of the woman he loves, he will even force hostile Fate to +show him fresh favour.” +</p> +<p> +“Destiny will pursue its course,” interrupted Cleopatra firmly. “But +Antony must help me to heap fresh obstacles in the pathway, and when he +wishes to use his giant strength, what masses of rock his mighty arm can +hurl!” +</p> +<p> +“And if your lofty spirit smooths the path for him, then, my royal +mistress——” +</p> +<p> +“Even then the close of the tragedy will be death, and every scene a +disappointment. Was not the plan of bringing the fleet across the isthmus +bold and full of promise? Even the professional engineers greeted it with +applause, and yet it proved impracticable. Destiny dug its grave. And the +terrible omens before and after Actium, and the stars—the stars! +Everything points to speedy destruction, everything! Every hour brings +news of the desertion of some prince or general. As if from a watch-tower, +I now overlook what is growing from the seed I sowed. Sterile ears or +poisonous vegetation, wherever I turn my eyes. And yet! You, who know my +life from its beginning, tell me—must I veil my head in shame when +the question is asked, what powers of intellect, what talents industry, +and desire for good Cleopatra displayed?” +</p> +<p> +“No, my royal mistress, a thousand times no!” +</p> +<p> +“Yet the fruit of every tree I planted degenerated and decayed. Cæsarion +is withering in the flower of his youth—by whose fault I know only +too well. You will now take charge of the education of the other children. +So it is for you to consider what brought me where I now stand, and how to +guard their life-bark from wandering and shipwreck.” +</p> +<p> +“Let me train them to be human beings,” replied Archibius gravely, “and +preserve them from the desire to enter the lists with the gods. From the +simple Cleopatra in the garden of Epicurus, who was a delight to the good +and wise, you became the new Isis, to whom the multitude raised hearts, +eyes, and hands, dazzled and blinded. We will transfer the twins, Helios +and Selene, the sun and the moon, from heaven to earth; they must become +mortals—Greeks. I will not transplant them to the garden of +Epicurus, but to another, where the air is more bracing. The inscription +on its portals shall not be, ‘Here pleasure is the chief good,’ but ‘This +is an arena for character.’ He who leaves this garden shall not owe to it +the yearning for happiness and comfort, but an immovably steadfast moral +discipline. Your children, like yourself, were born in the East, which +loves what is monstrous, superhuman, exaggerated. If you entrust them to +me, they must learn to govern themselves. At the helm stands moral +earnestness, which, however, does not exclude the joyous cheerfulness +natural to our people; the sails will be trimmed by moderation, the +noblest quality of the Greek nation.” +</p> +<p> +“I understand,” Cleopatra interrupted, with drooping head. “Interwoven +with the means of securing the children’s welfare, you set before the +mother’s eyes the qualities she has lacked. I know that long ago you +abandoned the teachings of Epicurus and the Stoa, and with an earnest aim +before your eyes sought your own paths. The tempest of life swept me far +away from the quiet garden where we sought the purest delight. Now I have +learned to know the perils which threaten those who see the chief good in +happiness. It stands too high for mortals, for in the changeful stir of +life it remains unattainable, and yet it is too low an aim for their +struggles, for there are worthier objects. Yet one saying of Epicurus we +both believed, and it has always stood us in good stead: ‘Wisdom can +obtain no more precious contribution to the happiness of mortal life than +the possession of friendship.’ ” +</p> +<p> +She held out her hand as she spoke, and while, deeply agitated, he raised +it to his lips, she went on: “You know I am on the eve of the last +desperate battle—if the gods will—shoulder to shoulder with +Antony. Therefore I shall not be permitted to watch your work of +education; yet I will aid it. When the children question you about their +mother, you will be obliged to restrain yourself from saying: ‘Instead of +striving for the painless peace of mind, the noble pleasure of Epicurus, +which once seemed to her the highest good, she constantly pursued fleeting +amusements. The Oriental recklessly squandered her once noble gifts of +intellect and the wealth of her people, yielded to the hasty impulses of +her passionate nature.’ But you shall also say to them: ‘Your mother’s +heart was full of ardent love, she scorned what was base, strove for the +highest goal, and when she fell, preferred death to treachery and +disgrace.’ ” +</p> +<p> +Here she paused, for she thought she heard footsteps approaching, and then +exclaimed anxiously: “I am waiting—expecting. Perhaps Antony cannot +escape from the paralyzing grasp of despair. To fight the last battle +without him, and yet under the gaze of his wrathful, gloomy eyes, once so +full of sunshine, would be the greatest sorrow of my life. Archibius, I +may confess this to you, the friend who saw love for this man develop in +the breast of the child—— But what does this mean? An uproar! Have the +people rebelled? Yesterday the representatives of the priesthood, the +members of the museum, and the leaders of the army assured me of their +changeless fidelity and love. Dion belonged to the Macedonian men of the +Council; yet I have already declared, in accordance with the truth, that I +never intended to persecute him on Cæsarion’s account. I do not even know—and +do not desire to know—the refuge of the lately wedded pair. Or has the new +tax levied, the command to seize the treasures of the temple, driven them +to extremities? What am I to do? We need gold to bid the foe defiance, to +preserve the independence of the throne, the country, and the people. Or +have tidings from Rome——? It is becoming serious—and the noise is +growing louder.” +</p> +<p> +“Let me see what they want,” Archibius anxiously interrupted, hastening to +the door; but just at that moment the Introducer opened it, crying, “Mark +Antony is approaching the Lochias, attended by half Alexandria!” +</p> +<p> +“The noble Imperator is returning!” fell from the bearded lips of the +commander of the guard, ere the courtier’s words had died away; and even +while he spoke Iras pressed past him, shrieking as if half frantic: “He is +coming! He is here! I knew he would come! How they are shouting and +cheering! Out with you, men! If you are willing, my royal mistress, we +will greet him from the balcony of Berenike. If we only had——” +</p> +<p> +“The twins—little Alexander!” interrupted Cleopatra, with blanched +face and faltering voice. “Put on their festal garments.” +</p> +<p> +“Quick—the children, Zoe!” cried Iras, completing the order and +clapping her hands. Then she turned to the Queen with the entreaty: “Be +calm, my royal mistress, be calm, I beseech you. We have ample time. Here +is the vulture crown of Isis, and here the other. Antony’s slave, Eros, +has just come in, panting for breath. The Imperator, he says, will appear +as the new Dionysus. It would certainly please his master—though he +had not commissioned him to request it—if you greeted him as the new +Isis.—Help me, Hathor. Nephoris, tell the usher to see that the +fan-bearers and the other attendants, women and men, are in their places.—Here +are the pearl and diamond necklaces for your throat and bosom. Take care +of the robe. The transparent bombyx is as delicate as a cobweb, and if you +tear it—— No, you must not refuse. We all know how it pleases him to see his +goddess in divine majesty and beauty.” +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra, with glowing cheeks and throbbing heart, made no further +objection to donning the superb festal robe, strewn with glimmering +pearls and glittering gems. It would have been more in harmony with her +feelings to meet the returning Antony in the plain, dark garb which, +since her arrival at home, she had exchanged for a richer one only on +festal occasions; but Antony was coming as the new Dionysus, and Eros +knew what would please his master. +</p> +<p> +Eight nimble hands, which were often aided by Iras’s skilful fingers, +toiled busily, and soon the latter could hold up the mirror before +Cleopatra, exclaiming from the very depths of her heart, “Like the +foam-born Aphrodite and the golden Hathor!” +</p> +<p> +Then Iras, who, in adorning her beloved mistress, had forgotten love, +hate, and envy, and amid her eager haste barely found time for a brief, +fervent prayer for a happy issue of this meeting, threw the broad +folding-doors as wide as if she were about to reveal to the worshippers in +the temple the image of the god in the innermost sanctuary. +</p> +<p> +A long, echoing shout of surprise and delight greeted the Queen, for the +courtiers, hastily summoned, were already awaiting her without, from the +grey-haired epistolograph to the youngest page. Regally attired women in +her service raised the floating train of her cloak; others, in sacerdotal +robes, were testing the ease of movement of the rings on the sistrum rods, +men and boys were forming into lines according to the rank of each +individual, and the chief fan-bearer gave the signal for departure. After +a short walk through several halls and corridors, the train reached the +first court-yard of the palace, and there ascended the few steps leading +to the broad platform at the entrance-gate which overlooked the whole +Bruchium and the Street of the King, down which the expected hero would +approach. +</p> +<p> +The distant uproar of the multitude had sounded threatening, but now, amid +the deafening din, they could distinguish every shout of welcome, every +joyous greeting, every expression of delight, surprise, applause, +admiration, and homage, known to the Greek and Egyptian tongues. +</p> +<p> +Only the centre and end of the procession were visible. The head had +reached the Corner of the Muses, where, concealed by the old trees in the +garden, it moved on between the Temple of Isis and the land owned by +Didymus. The end still extended to the Choma, whence it had started. +</p> +<p> +All Alexandria seemed to have joined it. +</p> +<p> +Men large and small, of high and low degree, old and young, the lame and +the crippled, mingled with the throng, sweeping onward among horses and +carriages, carts and beasts of burden, like a mountain torrent dashing +wildly down to the valley. Here a loud shriek rang from an overturned +litter, whose bearers had fallen. Yonder a child thrown to the ground +screamed shrilly, there a dog trodden under the feet of the crowd howled +piteously. So clear and resonant were the shouts of joy that they rose +high above the flutes and tambourines, the cymbals and lutes of the +musicians, who followed the man approaching in the robes of a god. +</p> +<p> +The head of the procession now passed beyond the Corner of the Muses and +came within view of the platform. +</p> +<p> +There could be no doubt to whom this ovation was given, for the returning +hero was in the van, high above all the other figures. From the golden +throne borne on the shoulders of twelve black slaves he waved his long +thyrsus in greeting to the exulting multitude. Before the bacchanalian +train which accompanied him, and behind the musicians who followed, moved +two elephants bearing between them, as a light burden, some unrecognizable +object covered with a purple cloth. Now the column had passed between the +pylons through the lofty gateway which separated the palace from the +Street of the King, and stopped opposite to the platform. +</p> +<p> +While officials, Scythians, and body-guards of all shades of complexion, +on foot and on horseback, kept back the throng by force where friendly +warning did not avail, Cleopatra saw her lover descend from the throne and +give a signal to the Indian slave who guided the elephants. The cloth was +flung aside, revealing to the astonished eyes of the spectators a bouquet +of flowers such as no Alexandrian had ever beheld. It consisted entirely +of blossoming rose-bushes. The red flowers formed a circle in the centre, +surrounded by a broad light garland of white ones. The whole gigantic work +rested like an egg in its cup in a holder of palm fronds which, as it +were, framed it in graceful curving outlines. More than a thousand +blossoms were united in this peerless bouquet, and the singular gigantic +gift was characteristic of its giver. +</p> +<p> +He advanced on foot to the platform, his figure towering above the brown, +light-hued, and black freedmen and slaves who followed as, on the +monuments of the Pharaohs, the image of the sovereign dominates those of +the subjects and foes. +</p> +<p> +He could look down upon the tallest men, and the width of his shoulders +was as remarkable as his colossal height. A long, gold-broidered purple +mantle, floating to his ancles, increased his apparent stature. Powerful +arms, with the swelling muscles of an athlete, were extended from his +sleeveless robe towards the beloved Queen. +</p> +<p> +The well-formed head, thick dark hair, and magnificent beard corresponded +with the powerful figure. Formerly these locks had adorned the head of the +youth with the blue-black hue of the raven’s plumage; now the threads of +grey scattered abundantly through them were concealed by the aid of dye. A +thick wreath of vine leaves rested on the Imperator’s brow, and leafy vine +branches, to which clung several dark bunches of grapes, fell over his +broad shoulders and down his back, which was covered like a cloak, not by +a leopard-skin, but that of a royal Indian tiger of great size—he +had slain it himself in the arena. The head and paws of the animal were +gold, the eyes two magnificent sparkling sapphires. The clasp of the +chain, by which the skin was suspended, as well as that of the gold belt +which circled the Imperator’s body above the hips, was covered with rubies +and emeralds. The wide armlets above his elbows, the ornaments on his +broad breast, nay, even his red morocco boots, glittered and flashed with +gems. +</p> +<p> +Radiant magnificent as his former fortunes seemed the attire of this +mighty fallen hero, who but yesterday had shrunk timidly and sadly from +the eyes of his fellow-men. His features, too, were large, noble, and +beautiful in outline; but, though his pale cheeks were adorned with the +borrowed crimson of youth, half a century of the maddest pursuit of +pleasure and the torturing excitement of the last few weeks had left +traces only too visible; for the skin hung in loose bags beneath the large +eyes; wrinkles furrowed his brow and radiated in slanting lines from the +corners of his eyes across his temples. +</p> +<p> +Yet not one of those whom this bedizened man of fifty was approaching +thought of seeing in him an aged, bedecked dandy; it was an instinct of +his nature to surround himself with pomp and splendour and, moreover, his +whole appearance was so instinct with power that scorn and mockery shrank +abashed before it. +</p> +<p> +How frank, gracious, and kindly was this man’s face, how sincere the +heart-felt emotion which sparkled in his eyes, still glowing with the fire +of youth, at the sight of the woman from whom he had been so long parted! +Every feature beamed with the most ardent tenderness for the royal wife +whom he was approaching, and the expression on the lips of the giant +varied so swiftly from humble, sorrowful anguish of mind to gratitude and +delight, that even the hearts of his foes were touched. But when, pressing +his hand on his broad breast, he advanced towards the Queen, bending so +low that it seemed as if he would fain kiss her feet, when in fact the +colossal figure did sink kneeling before her, and the powerful arms were +outstretched with fervent devotion like a child beseeching help, the woman +who had loved him throughout her whole life with all the ardour of her +passionate soul was overpowered by the feeling that everything which stood +between them, all their mutual offences, had vanished. He saw the sunny +smile that brightened her beloved, ever-beautiful face, and then—then +his own name reached his ears from the lips to which he owed the greatest +bliss love had ever offered. At last, as if intoxicated by the tones of +her voice, which seemed to him more musical than the songs of the Muses; +half smiling at the jest which, even in the most serious earnest, he could +not abandon; half moved to the depths of his soul by the power of his +newly awakening happiness after such sore sorrow, he pointed to the +gigantic bouquet, which three slaves had lifted down from the elephant and +were bearing to the Queen. Cleopatra, too, was overwhelmed with emotion. +</p> +<p> +This floral gift imitated, on an immense scale, the little bouquet which +the famous young general had taken from her father’s hand before the gate +of the garden of Epicurus to present to her as his first gift. That had +also been composed of red roses, surrounded by white ones. Instead of palm +fronds, it had been encircled only by fern leaves. This was one of the +beautiful offerings which Antony’s gracious nature so well understood how +to choose. The bouquet was a symbol of the unprecedented generosity +natural to this large-minded man. No magic goblet had compelled him to +approach her thus and with such homage. Nothing had constrained him, save +his overflowing heart, his constant, fadeless love. +</p> +<p> +As if restored to youth, transported by some magic spell to the happy days +of early girlhood, she forgot her royal dignity and the hundreds of eyes +which rested upon him as if spell-bound; and, obedient to an irresistible +impulse of the heart, she sank upon the broad, heaving breast of the +kneeling hero. Laughing joyously in the clear, silvery tones which are +usually heard only in youth, he clasped her in his strong arms, raised her +slender figure in its floating royal mantle from the ground, kissed her +lips and eyes, held her aloft in the soaring attitude of the Goddess of +Victory, as if to display his happiness to the eyes of all, and at last +placed her carefully on her feet again like some treasured jewel. +</p> +<p> +Then, turning to the children, who were waiting at their mother’s side, he +lifted first little Alexander, then the twins, to kiss them; and, while +holding Helios and Selene in his arms, as if the joy of seeing them again +had banished their weight, the shouts which had arisen when the Queen sank +on his breast again burst forth. +</p> +<p> +The ancient walls of the Lochias palace had never heard such acclamations. +They passed from lip to lip, from hundreds to hundreds and, though those +more distant did not know the cause, they joined in the shouts. Along the +whole vast stretch from the Lochias to the Choma the cheers rang out like +a single, heart-stirring, inseparable cry, echoing across the harbour, the +ships lying at anchor, the towering masts, to the cliff amid the sea where +Barine was nursing her new-made husband. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch20"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER XX. +</h3> + +<p> +The property of the freedman Pyrrhus was a flat rock in the northern part +of the harbour, scarcely larger than the garden of Didymus at the Corner +of the Muses, a desolate spot where neither tree nor blade of grass grew. +It was called the Serpent Island, though the inhabitants had long since +rid it of these dangerous guests, which lived in great numbers in the +neighbouring cliffs. Not even the poorest crops would grow in soil so +hostile to life, and those who chose it for a home were compelled to bring +even the drinking-water from the continent. +</p> +<p> +This desert, around which hovered gulls, sea-swallows, and sea-eagles, had +been for several weeks the abode of the fugitives, Dion and Barine. They +still occupied the two rooms which had been assigned to them on their +arrival. During the day the sun beat fiercely down upon the yellow chalky +rock. There was no shade save in the house and at the foot of a towering +cliff in the southern part of the island, the fishermen’s watch-tower. +</p> +<p> +There were no works of human hands save a little Temple of Poseidon, an +altar of Isis, the large house owned by Pyrrhus, solidly constructed by +Alexandrian masons, and a smaller one for the freedman’s married sons and +their families. A long wooden frame, on which nets were strung to dry, +rose on the shore. Near it, towards the north, in the open sea, was the +anchorage of the larger sea-going ships and the various skiffs and boats +of the fisher folk. Dionikos, Pyrrhus’s youngest son, who was still +unmarried, built new boats and repaired the old ones. +</p> +<p> +His two strong, taciturn brothers, with their wives and children, his +father Pyrrhus, his wife and their youngest child, a daughter, Dione, a +few dogs, cats, and chickens, composed the population of the Serpent +Island. +</p> +<p> +Such were the surroundings of the newly wedded pair, who had been reared +in the capital. At first many things were strange to them, but they +accommodated themselves to circumstances with a good grace, and both had +admitted to each other, long before, that life had never been so equable +and peaceful. +</p> +<p> +During the first week Dion’s wound and fever still harassed him, but the +prediction of Pyrrhus that the pure, fresh sea-air would benefit the +sufferer had been fulfilled, and the monotonous days had passed swiftly +enough to the young bride in caring for the invalid. +</p> +<p> +The wife of Pyrrhus—“mother,” as they all called her—had +proved to be a skilful nurse, and her daughters-in-law and young Dione +were faithful and nimble assistants. During the time of anxiety and +nursing, Barine had formed a warm friendship for them. If the taciturn men +avoided using a single unnecessary word, the women were all the more ready +to gossip; and it was a pleasure to talk to pretty Dione, who had grown up +on the island and was eager to hear about the outside world. +</p> +<p> +Dion had long since left his couch and the house, and each day looked +happier, more content with himself and his surroundings. At first his +feverish visions had shown him his dead mother, pointing anxiously at his +new-made wife, as if to warn him against her. During his convalescence he +remembered them and they conjured up the doubt whether Barine could endure +the solitude of this desolate cliff, whether she would not lose the bright +serenity of soul whose charm constantly increased. Would it be any marvel +if she should pine with longing in this solitude, and even suffer +physically from their severe privations? +</p> +<p> +The perception that love now supplied the place of all which she had lost +pleased him, but he forbade himself to expect that this condition of +affairs could be lasting. Nothing save exaggerated self-conceit would +induce the hope. But he must have undervalued his own power of attraction—or +Barine’s love—for with each passing week the cheerful serenity of +her disposition gained fresh steadfastness and charm. He, too, had the +same experience; it was long since he had felt so vigorous, untrammelled, +and free from care. His sole regret was the impossibility of sharing the +political life of the city at this critical period; and at times he felt +some little anxiety concerning the fate and management of his property, +though, even if his estates were confiscated, he would still retain a +competence which he had left in the hands of a trustworthy money-changer. +Barine shared everything that concerned him, even these moods, and this +led him to tell her about the affairs of the city and the state, in which +she had formerly taken little interest, his property in Alexandria and the +provinces. With what glad appreciation she listened, when she went out +with him from the northern anchorage on the open sea, or sat during long +winter evenings making nets, an art which she had learned from Dione! +</p> +<p> +Her lute had been sent to her from the city, and what pleasure her singing +afforded her husband and herself; how joyously their hosts, old and young, +listened to the melody! +</p> +<p> +A few book-rolls had also come, and Dion enjoyed discussing their contents +with Barine. He himself read very little, for he was rarely indoors during +the day. The fourth week after his arrival he was able to aid, with arms +whose muscles had been steeled in the palæstra, the men in their fishing, +and Dionikos in his boat-building. +</p> +<p> +The close, constant, uninterrupted companionship of the married pair +revealed to each unexpected treasures in the other, which, perhaps, might +have remained forever concealed in city life. Here each was everything to +the other, and this undisturbed mutual life soon inspired that blissful +consciousness of inseparable union which usually appears only after years, +as the fairest fruit of a marriage founded on love. +</p> +<p> +Doubtless there were hours when Barine longed to see her mother and others +who were dear to her, but the letters which arrived from time to time +prevented this yearning from becoming a source of actual pain. +</p> +<p> +Prudence required them to restrict their intercourse with the city. But, +whenever Pyrrhus went to market, letters reached the island delivered at +the fish auction in the harbour by Anukis, Charmian’s Nubian maid, to the +old freedman, who had become her close friend. +</p> +<p> +So the time came when Dion could say without self-deception that Barine +was content in this solitude, and that his love and companionship supplied +the place of the exciting, changeful life of the capital. Though letters +came from her mother, sister, or Charmian, her grandfather, Gorgias, or +Archibius, not one transformed the wish to leave her desolate hiding-place +into actual homesickness, but each brought fresh subjects for +conversation, and among them many which, by arousing the interest of both, +united them more firmly. +</p> +<p> +The second month of their flight a letter arrived from Archibius, in which +he informed them that they might soon form plans for their return, for +Alexas, the Syrian, had proved a malicious traitor. He had not performed +the commission entrusted to him of winning Herod to Antony’s cause, but +treacherously deserted his patron and remained with the King of the Jews. +When, with unprecedented shamelessness, he sought Octavianus to sell the +secrets of his Egyptian benefactor, he was arrested and executed in his +own home, Laodicea. +</p> +<p> +Now, their friend continued, Cleopatra’s eyes as well as her husband’s +were opened to the true character of Barine’s most virulent accuser. The +influence of Philostratus, too, was of course destroyed by his brother’s +infamous deed. Yet they must wait a little longer; for Cæsarion had +joined the Ephebi, and Antyllus had been invested with the <i>toga virilis</i>. +They could now undertake many things independently, and Cæsarion often +made remarks which showed that he would not cease to lay plots for Barine. +</p> +<p> +Dion feared nothing from the royal boy on his own account, but for his +wife’s sake he dared not disregard his friend’s warning. This was hard; +for though he still felt happy on the island, he longed to install the +woman he loved in his own house, and every impulse of his nature urged him +to be present at the meetings of the Council in these fateful times. +Therefore he was more than ready to risk returning to the city, but Barine +entreated him so earnestly not to exchange the secure happiness they +enjoyed here for a greater one, behind which might lurk the heaviest +misfortune, that he yielded. Another letter from Charmian soon proved the +absolute necessity of continuing to exercise caution. +</p> +<p> +Even from the island they could perceive that everything known as festal +pleasure was rife in Alexandria, and bore along in its mad revelry the +court and the citizens. When the wind blew from the south, it brought +single notes of inspiring music or indistinct sounds of the wildest +popular rejoicing. +</p> +<p> +The fisherman’s daughter, Dione, often called them to the strand to admire +the galleys adorned with fabulous splendour, garlanded with flowers, and +echoing with the music of lutes and the melody of songs. Sails of purple +embroidered silk bore the vessels over the smooth tide. Once the watchers +even distinguished, upon a barge richly adorned with gilded carving, young +female slaves who, with floating hair and transparent sea-green robes, +handled, in the guise of Nereids, light sandal-wood oars with golden +blades. Often the breeze bore to the island the perfumes which surrounded +the galleys, and on calm nights the magnificent ships, surrounded by the +magical illumination of many-hued lamps, swept across the mirror-like +surface of the waves, Among the voyagers were gods, goddesses, and heroes +who, standing or reclining in beautiful groups, represented scenes from +the myths and history. On the deck of the Queen’s superb vessel guests +crowned with wreaths lay on purple couches, under garlands of flowers, +eating choice viands and draining golden wine-cups. +</p> +<p> +On other nights the illumination of the shore of the Bruchium rendered it +as bright as day. The huge dome of the Serapeum on the Rhakotis, covered +with lamps, towered above the flat roofs of the city like the starry +firmament of a smaller world which had descended to earth. Every temple +and palace was transformed into a giant candelabrum, and the rows of lamps +on the quay stretched like tendrils of light from the dazzlingly +illuminated marble Temple of Poseidon to the palace at Lochias, steeped in +radiance. +</p> +<p> +When Pyrrhus or one of his sons returned from market they described the +festivals and shows, banquets, races, and endless pleasure excursions +arranged by the court, which made the citizens fairly hold their breath. +It was a prosperous time for the fishermen; the Queen’s cooks took all +their wares and paid a liberal price. +</p> +<p> +January had come, when another letter arrived from Charmian. Dion and +Barine had watched in vain for any unusual events on Cleopatra’s birth +day, but on Antony’s, a few days later, there was plenty of music and +shouting, and in the evening an unusually magnificent illumination. +</p> +<p> +Two days after, this letter was delivered to Pyrrhus by his dusky friend +Anukis. +</p> +<p> +Her inquiry whether he thought it prudent to convey visitors to his guests +was answered in the negative, for since Octavianus had been in Asia, the +harbour swarmed with the boats of spies, and a single act of imprudence +might bring ruin. +</p> +<p> +Charmian’s letter, too, was even better calculated to curb Dion’s +increasing desire to return home than the fisherman’s warning. +</p> +<p> +True, the beginning contained good news of Barine’s relatives, and then +informed Dion that his uncle, the Keeper of the Seal, was fairly revelling +in bliss. His inventive gifts were taxed more than ever. Every day brought +a festival, every night magnificent banquets. One spectacle, excursion, or +hunting party followed another. In the theatres, the Odeum, the +Hippodrome, no more brilliant performances, races, naval battles, +gladiatorial struggles, and combats between beasts had been given, even +before Actium. Dion himself had formerly attended the entertainments of +those who belonged to the court circle, the society of “Inimitable +Livers.” It had been revived again, but Antony called them the “Comrades +of Death.” +</p> +<p> +This was significant. Every one knows that the end is drawing near, and +imitates the Pharaoh to whom the oracle promised six years of life, and +who convicted it of falsehood and made them twelve by carousing during +the night also. +</p> +<p> +The Queen’s meeting with her husband, which she had previously reported, +had been magnificent. “At that time,” she wrote, “we hoped that a more +noble life would begin, and Mark Antony, awakened and elevated by his +rekindled love, would regain his former heroic power; but we were +mistaken; Cleopatra, it is true, toiled unceasingly, but her lover with +his enormous bunch of roses gave the signal for the maddest revelry which +the imagination of the wildest devotee of pleasure could conceive. The +performances of the ‘Inimitable Livers’ were far surpassed by those of the +‘Comrades of Death’.” +</p> +<p> +“Antony is at their head, and he, whose giant frame resists even the most +unprecedented demands, succeeds in stupefying himself and forgetting the +impending ruin. When he comes to us after a night of revelry his eyes +sparkle as brightly, his deep voice has as clear a ring, as at the +beginning of the banquet. The Queen is his goddess; and who could remain +unmoved when the giant bows obediently to the nod of his delicate +sovereign, and devises and offers the most unprecedented things to win a +smile from her lips? The changeful, impetuous wooing of youth lies far +behind him, but his homage, which the Ephebi of today would perhaps term +antiquated, has always seemed to me as if a mountain were bending before a +star. The stranger who sees her in his company believes her a happy woman. +Amid the fabulous radiance of the festal array, when all who surround her +admire, worship, and strew flowers in her path, one might believe that the +old sunny days had returned; but when we are alone, how rarely I see her +smile! Then she plans for the tomb which, under Gorgias’s direction, is +rapidly rising, and considers with him the best method of rendering it an +inaccessible place of retreat. +</p> +<p> +“She decided everything, down to the carving on the stone sarcophagi. In +addition, there are to be rooms and chambers in the lower story for the +reception of her treasures. Beneath them she has had corridors made for +the pitch and straw which, if the worst should come, are to be lighted. +She will then give to the flames the gold and silver, gems and jewels, +ebony and ivory, the costly spices—in short, all her valuables. The +pearls alone are worth many kingdoms. Who can blame her if she prefers to +destroy them rather than leave them for the foe.” +</p> +<p> +“The garden in which you grew up, Barine, is now the scene of the happy, +busy life led by Alexander and the twins. There, under my brother’s +guidance, they frolic, build, and dig. Cleopatra goes to it whenever she +longs for repose after the pursuit of pleasures which have lost their +zest. +</p> +<p> +“When, the day before yesterday, Antony, crowned with ivy as the new +Dionysus, drove up the Street of the King in the golden chariot drawn by +tamed lions, to bring her, the new Isis, from the Lochias in a lotus +flower made of silver and white paste, drawn by four snow-white steeds, +she pointed to the glittering train and said: ‘Between the quiet of the +philosopher’s garden, where I began my life and still feel most at ease, +and the grave, where nothing disturbs my last repose, stretches the Street +of the King, with this deafening tumult, this empty splendour. It is +mine.’ +</p> +<p> +“O child, it was very different in former days! She loved Mark Antony with +passionate ardour. He was the first man in the world, and yet he bowed +before the supremacy of her will. The longing of the awakening heart, the +burning ambition which already kindled the soul of the child, had alike +found satisfaction, and the world beheld how the mortal woman, Cleopatra, +for her lover and herself, could steep this meagre life with the joys of +the immortals. He was grateful for them, and the most generous of men laid +at the feet of the ‘Great Queen of the East’ the might of Rome and the +kings of two quarters of the globe. +</p> +<p> +“These years were spent by both in one long revel. His marriage with +Octavia brought the first awakening. It was hard and painful. He had not +deserted Cleopatra for a woman’s sake, but on account of his endangered +power and sovereignty. But the unloved Octavia constrained him to look up +to her with respectful admiration—nay, she became dear to him. +</p> +<p> +“A fierce battle for him and his heart arose between the two. It was +fought with very different weapons, and Cleopatra conquered. The revel, +the dream began again. Then came Actium, the disenchantment, the +awakening, the fall, the flight from the world. Our object was not to let +him relapse into intoxication, to rouse the hero’s strength and courage +from their slumber, render him for love’s sake a fellow-combatant in the +common cause. +</p> +<p> +“But he had become accustomed to see in her the giver of ecstasy. The only +thing that he still desired was to drain the cup of pleasure in her +society till all was over. She sees this, grieves over it, and leaves no +means of rousing him to fresh energy untried; yet how rarely he rallies +his powers to earnest labour! +</p> +<p> +“While she is fortifying the mouths of the Nile and the frontiers of the +country, building ship after ship, arming and negotiating, she can not +resist him when he summons her to new pleasures. +</p> +<p> +“Though so many of the traits which rendered him great and noble have +vanished, she can not give up the old love and clings steadfastly to him +because, because—I know not why. A woman’s loving heart does not +question motives and laws. Besides, he is the father of her children and, +in playing with them, he regains the old joyousness of mood so enthralling +to the heart. +</p> +<p> +“Since Archibius has taken charge of them, they can dispense with +Euphronion, their tutor. The clever man knows Rome, Octavianus, and those +who surround him, so he was chosen as an envoy. His object was to induce +the conqueror to transfer the sovereignty of Egypt to the boys Antonius +Helios, and Alexander, but Cæsar vouchsafed no answer to the mediator in +Antony’s affairs—nay, did not even grant him an audience. +</p> +<p> +“To Cleopatra Octavianus promised friendly treatment, and the fulfilment +of her wish concerning the boys if—and now came the repetition of +the old demand—she would put Antony out of the world or deliver him +into his hands. +</p> +<p> +“This demand, which contains base treachery, was impossible for her noble +soul. Since she had resolved to build the tomb, granting it became +impossible, yet Octavianus made every effort to tempt her to the base +deed. True, the death of this one man would have spared much bloodshed. +The Cæsar knows how to choose his tools. He sent here as negotiator a +clever young man, who possessed great charms of mind and person. No plan +to prejudice the Queen against her husband and persuade her to commit the +treachery was left untried. He went so far as to assure Cleopatra that in +former years she had won the Cæsar’s heart, and that he still loved her. +She accepted these assurances at their true value and remained steadfast. +</p> +<p> +“Antony at first paid no heed to the intriguer. But when he learned what +means he employed, and especially how he made use of the surrender of one +of Cæsar’s murderers, which he himself had long regretted, to brand him +as an ungrateful traitor, he would not have been Mark Antony if he had +accepted it quietly. He was completely his old self when he ordered the +smooth fellow—who, however, had come as the ambassador of the mighty +victor—to be scourged, sent him back to Rome, and wrote a letter to +Octavianus, in which he complained of the man’s arrogance and presumption, +adding—spite of my heavy heart I can not help smiling when I think +of it—that misfortune had rendered him unusually irritable; yet if +his action perhaps displeased Cæsar, he might treat his freedman +Hipparchus, who was in his power, as he had served Thyrsus! +</p> +<p> +“You see that his gay arrogance has not deserted him. Trouble slips away +from him as rain is shaken from the coarse military cloak which he wore in +the Parthian war, and therefore it cannot exert its purifying power. +</p> +<p> +“When we consider that, a few years ago, this man, as it were, doubled +himself when peril was most threatening, his conduct now, on the eve of +the decisive struggle, is intelligible only to those who know him as we +do. If he fights, he will no longer do so to save himself, or even to +conquer, but to die an honourable death. If he still enjoys the pleasures +offered, he believes that he can thus mitigate for himself the burden of +defeat, and diminish the grandeur of the conqueror’s victory. In the eyes +of the world, at least, a man who can still revel like Antony is only half +vanquished. Yet the lofty tone of his mind was lowered. The surrender of +the murderer of Cæsar—his name was Turullius—proves it. +</p> +<p> +“And this, Barine—tell your husband so—this is what fills me +with anxiety and compels me to entreat you not to think of returning home +yet. +</p> +<p> +“Antony is now the jovial companion of his son, and permits Antyllus to +share all his own pleasures. Of course, he heard of Cæsarion’s passion, +and is disposed to help the poor fellow. He has often said that nothing +would better serve to rouse the dreamer from torpor than your charming +vivacity. As the earth could scarcely have swallowed you up, you would be +found; he, too, should be glad to hear you sing again. I know that search +will be made for you. +</p> +<p> +“How imperiously this state of affairs requires you to exercise caution +needs no explanation. On the other hand, you may find comfort in the +tidings that Cleopatra intends to send Cæsarion with his tutor Rhodon to +Ethiopia, by way of the island of Philæ. Archibius heard through +Timagenes that Octavianus considers the son of Cæsar, whose face so +wonderfully resembles his father’s, a dangerous person, and this opinion +is the boy’s death-warrant. Antyllus, too, is going on a journey. His +destination is Asia, where he is to seek to propitiate Octavianus and make +him new offers. As you know, he was betrothed to his daughter Julia. The +Queen ceased long ago to believe in the possibility of victory, yet, spite +of all the demands of the ‘Comrades of Death’ and her own cares, she toils +unweariedly in preparing for the defence of the country. She is doubtless +the only member of that society who thinks seriously of the approaching +end. +</p> +<p> +“Now that the tomb is rising, she ponders constantly upon death. She, who +was taught by Epicurus to strive for freedom from pain and is so sensitive +to the slightest bodily suffering, is still seeking a path which, with the +least agony, will lead to the eternal rest for which she longs. Iras and +the younger pupils of Olympus are aiding her. The old man furnishes all +sorts of poisons, which she tries upon various animals—nay, recently +even on criminals sentenced to death. All these experiments seem to prove +that the bite of the uræus serpent, whose image on the Egyptian crown +symbolizes the sovereign’s instant power over life and death, stills the +heart most swiftly and with the least suffering. +</p> +<p> +“How terrible these things are! What pain it causes to see the being one +loves most, the mother of the fairest children, so cruelly heighten the +anguish of parting, choose death, as it were, for a constant companion, +amid the whirl of the gayest amusements! She daily looks all his terrors +in the face, yet with proud contempt turns her back upon the bridge which +might perhaps enable her for a time to escape the monster. This is grand, +worthy of her, and never have I loved her more tenderly. +</p> +<p> +“You, too, must think of her kindly. She deserves it. A noble heart which +sees itself forced to pity a foe, easily forgives; and was she ever your +enemy? +</p> +<p> +“I have written a long, long letter to solace your seclusion from the +world and relieve my own heart. Have patience a little while longer. The +time is not far distant when Fate itself will release you from exile. How +often your relatives, Archibius and Gorgias, whom I now see frequently in +the presence of the Queen, long to visit you!—but they, too, believe +that it might prove a source of danger.” +</p> +<p> +The warnings in this letter were confirmed by another from Archibius, and +soon after they heard that Cæsarion had really sailed up the Nile for +Ethiopia with his tutor Rhodon, and Antyllus had been sent to Asia to +visit Octavianus. The latter had received him, it is true; but sent him +home without making any pledges. +</p> +<p> +These tidings were not brought by letter, but by Gorgias himself, whose +visit surprised them one evening late in March. +</p> +<p> +Rarely had a guest received a more joyous welcome. When he entered the +bare room, Barine was making a net and telling the fisherman’s daughter +Dione the story of the wanderings of Ulysses. Dion, too, listened +attentively, now and then correcting or explaining her descriptions, while +carving a head of Poseidon for the prow of a newly built boat. +</p> +<p> +As Gorgias unexpectedly crossed the threshold, the dim light of the lamp +fed by kiki-oil seemed transformed into sunshine. How brightly their eyes +sparkled, how joyous were their exclamations of welcome and surprise! Then +came questions, answers, news! Gorgias was obliged to share the family +supper, which had only waited the return of the father who had brought the +guest. +</p> +<p> +The fresh oysters, langustæ, and other dishes served tasted more +delicious to the denizen of the city than the most delicious banquets of +the “Comrades of Death” to which he was now frequently invited by the +Queen. +</p> +<p> +All that Pyrrhus said voluntarily and told his sons in reply to their +questions was so sensible and related to matters which, because they were +new to Gorgias, seemed so fascinating that, when Dion’s good wine was +served, he declared that if Pyrrhus would receive him he, too, would +search for pursuers and be banished here. +</p> +<p> +When the three again sat alone before the plain clay mixing vessel it +seemed to the lonely young couple as if the best part of the city life +which they had left behind had found its way to them, and what did they +not have to say to one another! Dion and Barine talked of their hermit +life, Gorgias of the Queen and the tomb, which was at the same time a +treasure chamber. The slanting walls were built as firmly as if they were +intended to last for centuries and defy a violent assault. The centre of +the lower story was formed by a lofty hall of vast dimensions, in whose +midst were the large marble sarcophagi. Men were working busily upon the +figures in relief intended for the decoration of the sides and lids. This +hall, whose low arched ceiling was supported by three pairs of heavy +columns, was furnished like a reception-room. The couches, candelabra, and +altars were already being made. Charmian had kept the fugitives well +informed. In the subterranean chambers at the side of the hall, and in the +second story, which could not be commenced until the ceiling was +completed, store-rooms were to be made, and below and beside them were +passages for ventilation and the storage of combustible materials. +</p> +<p> +Gorgias regretted that he could not show his friend the hall, which was +perhaps the handsomest and most costly he had ever created. The noblest +material—brown porphyry, emerald-green serpentine, and the dark varieties +of marble—had been used, and the mosaic and brass doors, which were +nearing completion, were masterpieces of Alexandrian art. To have all this +destroyed was a terrible thought, but even more unbearable was that of its +object—to receive the body of the Queen. +</p> +<p> +Again rapturous admiration of this greatest and noblest of women led +Gorgias to enthusiastic rhapsodies, until Dion exercised his office of +soberer, and Barine asked tidings of her mother, her grandparents, and her +sister. There was nothing but good news to be told. True, the architect +had to wage a daily battle with the old philosopher, who termed it an +abuse of hospitality to remain so long at his friend’s with his whole +family; but thus far Gorgias had won the victory, even against Berenike, +who wished to take her father and his household to her own home. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra had purchased the house and garden of Didymus at thrice their +value, the architect added. He was now a wealthy man, and had commissioned +him to build a new mansion. The land facing the sea and near the museum +had been found, but the handsome residence would not be completed until +summer. The dry Egyptian air would have permitted him to roof it sooner, +but there were many of Helena’s wishes—most of them very sensible +ones—to be executed. +</p> +<p> +Barine and Dion glanced significantly at each other; but the architect, +perceiving it, exclaimed: “Your mute language is intelligible enough, and +I confess that for five months Helena has seemed to me the most attractive +of maidens. I see, too, that she has some regard for me. But as soon as I +stand before <i>her</i>—the Queen, I mean—and hear her voice, it +seems as if a tempest swept away every thought of Helena, and it is not in +my nature to deceive any one. How can I woo a girl whom I so deeply honour—your +sister, Barine—when the image of another rules my soul?” +</p> +<p> +Dion reminded him of his own words that the Queen was loved only as a +goddess and, without waiting for his reply, turned the conversation to +other topics. +</p> +<p> +It was three hours after midnight when Pyrrhus warned Gorgias that it was +time for departure. When the fisherman’s fleetest boat was at last bearing +him back to the city he wondered whether girls who, before marriage, lived +like Helena in undisturbed seclusion, would really be better wives and +more content with every lot than the much-courted Barine, whom Dion had +led from the gayest whirl of life in the capital to the most desolate +solitude. +</p> +<p> +This delightful evening was followed by a day of excitement and grave +anxiety. It had been necessary to conceal the young couple from the +collector’s officials, who took from Pyrrhus part of his last year’s +savings, and the large new boat which he used to go out on the open sea. +The preparations for war required large sums; all vessels suitable for the +purpose were seized for the fleet, and all residents of the city and +country shared the same fate as Pyrrhus. +</p> +<p> +Even the temple treasures were confiscated, and yet no one could help +saying to himself that the vast sums which, through these pitiless +extortions, flowed into the treasury, were used for the pleasures of the +court as well as for the equipment of the fleet and the army. +</p> +<p> +Yet so great was the people’s love for the Queen, so high their regard for +the independence of Egypt, so bitter their hate of Rome, that there was no +rebellion. +</p> +<p> +How earnestly Cleopatra, amid all the extravagant revels, from which she +could not too frequently absent herself, toiled to advance the military +preparations, could be seen even by the exiles from their cliff; for work +in two dock-yards was continued day and night, and the harbour was filled +with vessels. Ships of war were continually moving to and fro, and from +the Serpent Island they witnessed constantly, often by starlight, the +drilling of the oarsmen and of whole squadrons upon the open sea. +Sometimes a magnificent state galley appeared, on whose deck was Antony, +who inspected the hastily equipped fleet to make the newly recruited +sailors one of those kindling speeches in which he was a master hard to +surpass. Two sons of Pyrrhus were now numbered in the crews of the +recently built war ships. They had been impressed into the service in +April, and though Dion had placed a large sum at their father’s disposal +to secure their release, the attempt was unsuccessful. +</p> +<p> +So there had been sorrow and tears in the contented little colony of human +beings on the lonely cliff, and when Dionysus and Dionichos had a day’s +leave of absence to visit their relatives, they complained of the cruel +haste with which the young men were drilled and wearied to exhaustion, and +spoke of the sons of citizens and peasants who had been dragged from their +villages, their parents, and their business to be trained for seamen. +There was great indignation among them, and they listened only too readily +to the agitators who whispered how much better they would have fared on +the galleys of Octavianus. +</p> +<p> +Pyrrhus entreated his sons not to join any attempt at mutiny; the women, +on the contrary, would have approved anything which promised to release +the youths from their severe service, and their bright cheerfulness was +transformed into anxious depression. Barine, too, was no longer the same. +She had lost her joyous activity, her eyes were often wet with tears, and +she moved with drooping head as if some heavy care oppressed her. +</p> +<p> +Was it the heat of April, with its desert winds, which had brought the +transformation? Had longing for the changeful, exciting life of former +days at last overpowered her? Was solitude becoming unendurable? Was her +husband’s love no longer sufficient to replace the many pleasures she had +sacrificed?—No! It could not be that; never had she gazed with more +devoted tenderness into Dion’s face than when entirely alone with him in +shady nooks. She who in such hours looked the very embodiment of happiness +and contentment, certainly was neither ill nor sorrowful. +</p> +<p> +Dion, on the contrary, held his head high early and late, and appeared as +proud and self-conscious as though life was showing him its fairest face. +Yet he had heard that his estates had been sequestrated, and that he owed +it solely to the influence of Archibius and his uncle, that his property, +like that of so many others, had not been added to the royal treasures. +But what disaster could he not have speedily vanquished in these days? +</p> +<p> +A great joy—the greatest which the immortals can bestow upon human +beings—was dawning for him and his young wife, and in May the women +on the island shared her blissful hope. +</p> +<p> +Pyrrhus brought from the city an altar and a marble statue of Ilythyia, +the Goddess of Birth, called by the Romans Lucina, which his friend Anukis +had given him, in Charmian’s name, for the young wife. She had again +spoken of the serpents which lived in such numbers in the neighbouring +islands, and her question whether it would be difficult to capture one +alive was answered by the freedman in the negative. +</p> +<p> +The image of the goddess and the altar were erected beside the other +sanctuaries, and how often the stone was anointed by Barine and the women +of the fisherman’s family! +</p> +<p> +Dion vowed to the goddess a beautiful temple on the cliff and in the city +if she would be gracious to his beloved young wife. +</p> +<p> +When, in June, the noonday sun blazed most fiercely, the fisherman brought +to the cliff Helena, Barine’s sister, and Chloris, Dion’s nurse, who had +been a faithful assistant of his mother, and afterwards managed the female +slaves of the household. +</p> +<p> +How joyously and gratefully Barine held out her arms to her sister! Her +mother had been prevented from coming only by the warning that her +disappearance would surely attract the attention of the spies. And the +latter were very alert; for Mark Antony had not yet given up the pursuit +of the singer, nor had the attorney Philostratus recalled the proclamation +offering two talents for the capture of Dion, and both the latter’s palace +and Berenike’s house were constantly watched. +</p> +<p> +It seemed more difficult for the quiet Helena to accommodate herself to +this solitude than for her gayer-natured sister. Plainly as she showed her +love for Barine, she often lapsed into reverie, and every evening she went +to the southern side of the cliff and gazed towards the city, where her +grandparents doubtless sorely missed her, spite of the careful attention +bestowed upon them in Gorgias’s house. +</p> +<p> +Eight days had passed since her arrival, and life in this wilderness +seemed more distasteful than on the first and the second; the longing for +her grandparents, too, appeared to increase; for that day she had gone to +the shore, even under the burning rays of the noonday sun, to gaze towards +the city. +</p> +<p> +How dearly she loved the old people! +</p> +<p> +But Dion’s conjecture that the tears sparkling in Helena’s eyes when she +entered their room at dusk were connected with another resident of the +capital, spite of his wife’s indignant denial, appeared to be correct; +for, a short time after, clear voices were heard in front of the house, +and when a deep, hearty laugh rang out, Dion started up, exclaiming, +“Gorgias never laughs in that way, except when he has had some unusual +piece of good fortune!” +</p> +<p> +He hurried out as he spoke, and gazed around; but, notwithstanding the +bright moonlight, he could see nothing except Father Pyrrhus on his way +back to the anchorage. +</p> +<p> +But Dion’s ears were keen, and he fancied he heard subdued voices on the +other side of the dwelling. He followed the sound without delay and, when +he turned the corner of the building, stopped short in astonishment, +exclaiming as a low cry rose close before him: +</p> +<p> +“Good-evening, Gorgias! I’ll see you later. I won’t interrupt you.” +</p> +<p> +A few rapid steps took him back to Barine, and as he whispered, “I saw +Helena out in the moonlight, soothing her longing for her grandparents in +Gorgias’s arms,” she clapped her hands and said, smiling: +</p> +<p> +“That’s the way one loses good manners in this solitude. To disturb the +first meeting of a pair of lovers! But Gorgias treated us in the same way +in Alexandria, so he is now paid in his own coin.” +</p> +<p> +The architect soon entered the room, with Helena leaning on his arm. Hour +by hour he had missed her more and more painfully, and on the eighth day +found it impossible to endure life’s burden longer without her. He now +protested that he could approach her mother and grandparents as a suitor +with a clear conscience; for on the third day after Helena’s departure the +relation between him and the Queen had changed. In Cleopatra’s presence +the image of the granddaughter of Didymus became even more vivid than that +of the peerless sovereign had formerly been in Helena’s. Outside of the +pages of poetry he had never experienced longing like that which had +tortured him during the past few days. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch21"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER XXI. +</h3> + +<p> +This time the architect could spend only a few hours on the Serpent +Island, for affairs in the city were beginning to wear a very serious +aspect, and the building of the monument was pushed forward even during +the night. The interior of the first story was nearly completed and the +rough portion of the second was progressing. The mosaic workers, who were +making the floor of the great hall, had surpassed themselves. It was +impossible to wait longer for the sculptures which were to adorn the +walls. At present slabs of polished black marble were to occupy the places +intended for bronze reliefs; the utmost haste was necessary. +</p> +<p> +Octavianus had already reached Pelusium; even if Seleukus, the commander +of the garrison, held the strong fortress a long time, a part of the +hostile army might appear before Alexandria the following week. +</p> +<p> +A considerable force, however, was ready to meet him. The fleet seemed +equal to that of the enemy; the horsemen whom Antony had led before the +Queen would delight the eye of any one versed in military affairs; and the +Imperator hoped much from the veterans who had served under him in former +times, learned to know his generosity and open hand in the hour of +prosperity, and probably had scarcely forgotten the eventful days when he +had cheerfully and gaily shared their perils and privations. +</p> +<p> +Helena remained on the cliff, and her longing for the old couple had +materially diminished. Her hands moved nimbly, and her cheerful glance +showed that the lonely life on the island was beginning to unfold its +charms to her. +</p> +<p> +The young husband, however, had grown very uneasy. He concealed it before +the women, but old Pyrrhus often had much difficulty in preventing his +making a trip to the city which might imperil, on the eve of the final +decision, the result of their long endurance and privation. Dion had often +wished to set sail with his wife for a great city in Syria or Greece, but +fresh and mighty obstacles had deterred him. A special danger lay in the +fact that every large vessel was thoroughly searched before it left the +harbour, and it was impossible to escape from it without passing through +the narrow straits east of the Pharos or the opening in the Heptastadium, +both of which were easily guarded. The calm moderation that usually +distinguished the young counsellor had been transformed into feverish +restlessness, and the heart of his faithful old monitor had also lost its +poise; for an encounter between the fleet in which his sons served and +that of Octavianus was speedily expected. +</p> +<p> +One day he returned from the city greatly excited. Pelusium was said to +have fallen. +</p> +<p> +When he ascended the cliff he found everything quiet. No one, not even +Dione, came to meet him. +</p> +<p> +What had happened here? +</p> +<p> +Had the fugitives been discovered and dragged with his family to the city +to be thrown into prison, perhaps sent to the stone quarries? +</p> +<p> +Deadly pale, but erect and composed, he walked towards the house. He owed +to Dion and his father the greatest blessing in life, liberty, and the +foundation of everything else he possessed. But if his fears were +verified, if he was bereft of friends and property, even as a lonely +beggar he might continue to enjoy his freedom. If, for the sake of those +to whom he owed his best possession, he must surrender the rest, it was +his duty to bear fate patiently. +</p> +<p> +It was still light. +</p> +<p> +Even when he had approached very near the house he heard no sound save the +joyous barking of his wolf-hound, Argus, which leaped upon him. +</p> +<p> +He now laid his hand upon the lock of the door—but it was flung open +from the inside. +</p> +<p> +Dion had seen him coming and, enraptured by the new happiness with which +this day had blessed him, he flung himself impetuously on the breast of +his faithful friend, exclaiming: “A boy, a splendid boy! We will call him +Pyrrhus.” +</p> +<p> +Bright tears of joy streamed down the freedman’s face and fell on his grey +beard; and when his wife came towards him with her finger on her lips, he +whispered in a tremulous voice: “When I brought them here you were afraid +that the city people would drag us into ruin, but nevertheless you +received them as they deserved to be, and—he’s going to name him +Pyrrhus—and now!—What has a poor fellow like me done to have +such great and beautiful blessings fall to my lot?” +</p> +<p> +“And I—I?” sobbed his wife. “And the child, the darling little +creature!” +</p> +<p> +This day of sunny happiness was followed by others of quiet joy, of the +purest pleasure, yet mingled with the deepest anxiety. They also brought +many an hour in which Helena found an opportunity to show her prudence, +while old Chloris and the fisherman’s wife aided her by their experience. +</p> +<p> +Every one, down to the greybeard whose name the little one bore, declared +that there had never been a lovelier young mother than Barine or a +handsomer child than the infant Pyrrhus; but Dion could no longer endure +to remain on the cliff. +</p> +<p> +A thousand things which he had hitherto deemed insignificant and allowed +to pass unheeded now seemed important and imperatively in need of his +personal attention. He was a father, and any negligence might be harmful +to his son. +</p> +<p> +With his bronzed complexion and long hair and beard he required little aid +to disguise him from his friends. In the garments shabby by long use, and +with his delicate hands calloused by work in the dock-yard, any one would +have taken him for a real fisherman. +</p> +<p> +Perhaps it was foolish, but the desire to show himself in the character of +a father to Barine’s mother and grandparents and to Gorgias seemed worth +risking a slight danger; so, without informing Barine, who was now able to +walk about her room, he set out for the city after sunset on the last day +of July. +</p> +<p> +He knew that Octavianus was encamped in the Hippodrome east of Alexandria. +The white mounds which had risen there had been recognized as tents, even +from the Serpent Island. Pyrrhus had returned in the afternoon with +tidings that Antony’s mounted troops had defeated those of Octavianus. +This time the news of victory could be trusted, for the palace at Lochias +was illuminated for a festival and when Dion landed there was a great +bustle on the quay. One shouted to another that all would be well. Mark +Antony was his old self again. He had fought like a hero. +</p> +<p> +Many who yesterday had cursed him, to-day mingled their voices in the +shouts of “Evoë!” which rang out for the new Dionysus, who had again +proved his claim to godship. +</p> +<p> +The late visitor found the grandparents alone in the house of Gorgias. +They had been informed of Barine’s new happiness long before. Now they +rejoiced with Dion, and wanted to send at once for their host and future +son-in-law, who was in the city attending a meeting of the Ephebi, +although he had ceased some time ago to be a member of their company. But +Dion wished to greet him among the youths who had invited the architect to +give them his aid in deciding the question of the course they were to +pursue in the impending battle. +</p> +<p> +Yet he did not leave the old couple immediately; he was expecting two +visitors—Barine’s mother and Charmian’s Nubian maid who, since the +birth of little Pyrrhus, had come to the philosopher’s every evening. The +former’s errand was to ask whether any news of the mother and child had +been received during the day; the latter, to get the letters which she +delivered the next morning at the fish-market to her friend Pyrrhus or his +sons. +</p> +<p> +Anukis was the first to appear. She relieved her sympathizing heart by a +brief expression of congratulations; but, gladly as she would have +listened to the most minute details concerning the beloved young mother +from the lips of Dion himself, she repressed her own wishes for her +mistress’s sake, and returned to Charmian as quickly as possible to inform +her of the arrival of the unexpected guest. +</p> +<p> +Berenike bore her new dignity of grandmother with grateful joy, yet +to-night she came oppressed by a grave anxiety, which was not solely due +to her power of imagining gloomy events. Her brother Arius and his sons +were concealed in the house of a friend, for they seemed threatened by a +serious peril. Hitherto Antony had generously borne the philosopher no +ill-will on the score of his intimate relations with Octavianus; but now +that Octavianus was encamped outside the city, the house of the man who, +during the latter’s years of education, had been his mentor and +counsellor, and later a greatly valued friend, was watched, by Mardion’s +orders, by the Scythian guard. He and his family were forbidden to enter +the city, and his escape to his friend had been effected under cover of +the darkness and with great danger. +</p> +<p> +The anxious woman feared the worst for her brother if Mark Antony should +conquer, and yet, with her whole heart, she wished the Queen to gain the +victory. She, who always feared the worst, saw in imagination the fortunes +of war change—and there was reason for the belief. The bold general +who had gained so many victories, and whom the defeat of Actium had only +humbled, was said to have regained his former elasticity. He had dashed +forward at the head of his men with the heroic courage of former days—nay, +with reckless impetuosity. Rumour reported that, with the huge sword he +wielded, he had dealt from his powerful charger blows as terrible as those +inflicted five-and-twenty years before when, not far from the same spot, +he struck Archelaus on the head. The statement that, in his golden armour, +with the gold helmet framing his bearded face, he resembled his ancestor +Herakles, was confirmed by Charmian, who had been borne quickly hither by +a pair of the Queen’s swift horses. Cleopatra might need her soon, yet she +had left the Lochias to question the father about many things concerning +the young mother and her boy, who was already dear to her as the first +grandson of the man whose suit, it is true, she had rejected, but to whom +she owed the delicious consciousness of having loved and been loved in the +springtime of life. +</p> +<p> +Dion found her changed. The trying months which she had described in her +letters to Barine had completely blanched her grey hair, her cheeks were +sunken, and a deep line between her mouth and nose gave her pleasant face +a sorrowful expression. Besides, she seemed to have been weeping and, in +fact, heart-rending events had just occurred. +</p> +<p> +She had stolen away from Lochias in the midst of a revel. +</p> +<p> +Antony’s victory was being celebrated. He himself presided at the banquet. +Again his head and breast were wreathed with a wealth of fresh leaves and +superb flowers. At his side reclined Cleopatra, robed in light-blue +garments adorned with lotus-flowers which, like the little coronet on her +head, glittered with sapphires and pearls. Charmian said she had rarely +looked more beautiful. But she did not add that the Queen had been obliged +to have rouge applied to her pale, bloodless cheeks. +</p> +<p> +It was touching to see Antony after his return from the battle, still in +his suit of mail, clasp her in his arms as joyously as if he had won her +back, a prize of victory, and with his vanished heroic power regained her +and their mutual love. Her eyes, too, had been radiant with joy and, in +the elation of her heart, she had given the horseman who, for a deed of +special daring, was presented to her, a helmet and coat of mail of solid +gold. +</p> +<p> +Yet, even before the revel began, she had been forced to acknowledge to +herself that the commencement of the end was approaching; for, a few hours +after she had so generously rewarded the man, he had deserted to the foe. +Then Antony had challenged Octavianus to a duel, and received the +unfeeling reply that he would find many roads to death open. +</p> +<p> +This was the language of the cold-hearted foe, secure of superior power. +How sadly, too, she had been disappointed in the hope—that the +veterans who had served under Antony would desert their new commander at +the first summons and flock to his standard!—for all her husband’s +efforts in this direction, spite of the bewitching power of his eloquence, +failed, while every hour brought tidings of the treacherous desertion from +his army of individual warriors and whole maniples. His foe deemed his +cause so weak that he did not even resist Mark Antony’s attempts to win +the soldiers by promises. +</p> +<p> +From all these signs Cleopatra now saw plainly, in her lover’s victory, +only the last flicker of a dying fire; but so long as it burned he should +see her follow its light. +</p> +<p> +Therefore she had entered the festal hall with the victor of the day. She +had witnessed a strange festival. It began with tears and reminded +Cleopatra of the saying that she herself resembled a banquet served to +celebrate a victory before the battle was won. The cup-bearers had +scarcely advanced to the guests with their golden vessels when Antony +turned to them, exclaiming: “Pour generously, men; perhaps to-morrow you +will serve another master!” +</p> +<p> +Then, unlike his usual self, he grew thoughtful and murmured under his +breath, “And I shall probably be lying outside a corpse, a miserable +nothing.” +</p> +<p> +Loud sobs from the cup-bearers and servants followed these words; but he +addressed them calmly, assuring them that he would not take them into a +battle from which he expected an honourable death rather than rescue and +victory. +</p> +<p> +At this Cleopatra’s tears flowed also. If this reckless man of pleasure, +this notorious spendthrift and disturber of the public peace, with his +insatiate desires, had inspired bitter hostility, few had gained the warm +love of so many hearts. One glance at his heroic figure; one memory of the +days when even his foes conceded that he was never greater than in the +presence of the most imminent peril, never more capable of awakening in +others the hope of brighter times than amid the sorest privations; one +tone of the orator’s deep, resonant voice, which so often came from the +heart and therefore gained hearts with such resistless power; the +recollection of numberless instances of the bright cheerfulness of his +nature and his boundless generosity sufficiently explained the +lamentations which burst forth at that banquet, the tears which flowed—tears +of genuine feeling. They were also shed for the beautiful Queen who, +unmindful of the spectators, rested her noble brow, with its coronal of +pearls, upon his mighty shoulder. +</p> +<p> +But the grief did not last long, for Mark Antony, shouted: “Hence with +melancholy! We do not need the larva!* We know, without its aid, that +pleasure will soon be over!—Xuthus, a joyous festal song!—And you, +Metrodor, lead the dancers! The first beaker to the fairest, the best, +the wisest, the most cherished, the most fervently beloved of women!” +As he spoke he waved his goblet aloft, the flute-player, Xuthus, beckoned +to the chorus, and the dancer Metrodor, in the guise of a butterfly, led +forth a bevy of beautiful girls, who, in the cloud of ample robes of +transparent coloured bombyx which floated around them, executed the most +graceful figures and now hovered like mists, now flitted to and fro as if +borne on wings, affording the most charming variety to the delighted +spectators. +</p> +<div class="footnote"><p> +* At the banquets of the Egyptians a small figure in the shape of a +mummy was passed around to remind the guests that they, too, would +soon be in the same condition, and have no more time to enjoy life +and its pleasures. The Romans imitated this custom by sending the +larva, a statuette in the form of a skeleton, to make the round of +the revellers. The Greek love of beauty converted this ugly +scarecrow into a winged genius. +</p></div> +<p> +The “Comrades of Death” had again become companions in pleasure; and when +Charmian, who did not lose sight of her mistress, noticed the sorrowful +quiver of her lips and glided out of the circle of guests, the faithful +Nubian had approached to inform her of Dion’s arrival. +</p> +<p> +Then—but this she concealed from her friends—she hastened to +her own apartments to prepare to go out, and when Iras opened the door to +enter her rooms she went to speak to her about the night attendance upon +the Queen. But her niece had not perceived her; shaken by convulsive sobs, +she had pressed her face among the cushions of a couch, and there suffered +the fierce anguish which had stirred the inmost depths of her being to +rave itself out with the full vehemence of her passionate nature. Charmian +called her name and, weeping herself, ripened her arms to her, and for the +first time since her return from Actium her sister’s daughter again sank +upon her breast, and they held each other in a close embrace until +Charmian’s exclamation, “With her, for her unto death!” was answered by +Iras’s “To the tomb!” +</p> +<p> +This was a word which, in many an hour of the silent night, had stirred +the soul of the woman who had been the youthful playmate of the Queen who, +with bleeding heart, sat below among the revellers at the noisy banquet +and forced her to ask the question: “Is not your fate bound to hers? What +can life offer you without her?” +</p> +<p> +Now, this word was spoken by other lips, and, like an echo of Iras’s +exclamation, came the answer: “Unto death, like you, if she precedes us to +the other world. Whatever may follow dying, nowhere shall she lack +Charmian’s hand and heart.” +</p> +<p> +“Nor the love and service of Iras,” was the answering assurance. +</p> +<p> +So they had parted, and the agitation of this fateful moment was still +visible in the features of the woman who had formerly sacrificed to her +royal playfellow her love, and now offered her life. +</p> +<p> +When, ere leaving Gorgias’s house, she bade her friend farewell, she +pressed Dion’s hand with affectionate warmth and, as he accompanied her to +the carriage, she informed him that, before the first encounter of the +troops, Archibius had taken the royal children to his estate of Irenia, +where they were at present. +</p> +<p> +“Rarely has it been my fate to experience a more sorrowful hour than when +I beheld the Queen, her heart torn with anguish, bid them farewell. What +fate is impending over the dear ones, who are so worthy of the greatest +happiness? To see the twins and little Alexander recognized and saved from +death and insult, and your boy in Barine’s arms, is the last wish which I +still cherish.” +</p> +<p> +On returning to Lochias, Charmian had a long time to wait ere the Queen +retired. She dreaded the mood in which she would leave the banquet. For +months past Cleopatra had returned from the revels of the “Comrades of +Death” saddened to tears, or in a blaze of indignation. How must this last +banquet, which began so mournfully and continued with such reckless mirth, +affect her? +</p> +<p> +At last, the second hour after midnight, Cleopatra appeared. +</p> +<p> +Charmian believed that she must be the sport of some delusion, for the +Queen’s eyes which, when she had left her, were full of tears, now +sparkled with the radiant light of joy and, as her friend took the crown +from her head, she exclaimed: +</p> +<p> +“Why did you depart from the banquet so early? Perhaps it was the last, +but I remember no festival more brilliant. It was like the springtime of +my love. Mark Antony would have touched the heart of a stone statue by +that blending of manly daring and humble devotion which no woman can +resist. As in former days, hours shrivelled into moments. We were again +young, once more united. We were together here at Lochias to-night, and +yet in distant years and other places. The notes of the singers, the +melodies of the musicians, the figures executed by the dancers, were lost +upon us. We soared back, hand in hand, to a magic world, and the fairy +drama in the realms of the blessed, which passed before us in dazzling +splendour and blissful joy, was the dream which I loved best when a child, +and at the same time the happiest portion of the life of the Queen of +Egypt. +</p> +<p> +“It began before the gate of the garden of Epicurus, and continued on the +river Cydnus. I again beheld myself on the golden barge, garlanded with +wreaths of flowers, reclining on the purple couch with roses strewn around +me and beneath my jewelled sandals. A gentle breeze swelled the silken +sails; my female companions raised their clear voices in song to the +accompaniment of lutes; the perfumes floating around us were borne by the +wind to the shore, conveying the tidings that the bliss believed by +mortals to be reserved for the gods alone was drawing near. And even as +his heart and his enraptured senses yielded to my sway, his mind, as he +himself confessed, was under the thrall of mine. We both felt happy, +united by ties which nothing, not even misfortune, could sever. He, the +ruler of the world, was conquered, and delighted to obey the behests of +the victor, because he felt that she before whom he bowed was his own +obedient slave. And no magic goblet effected all this. I breathed more +freely, as if relieved from the oppressive delusion—the fire had +consumed it also—which had burdened my soul until a few hours ago. +No magic spell, only the gifts of mind and soul which the vanquished +victor, the woman Cleopatra, owed to the favour of the immortals, had +compelled his lofty manhood to yield. +</p> +<p> +“From the Cydnus he brought me hither to the blissful days which we were +permitted to pass in my city of Alexandria. A thousand sunny hours, +musical, echoing surges which long since dashed down the stream of Time, +he recalled to life, and I—I did the same, and our memories blended +into one. What never-to-be-forgotten moments we experienced when, with +reckless mirth, we mingled unrecognized among the joyous throng! What +Olympic delight elated our hearts when the plaudits of thousands greeted +us! What joys satiated our minds and senses in our own apartments! What +pure, unalloyed nectar of the soul was bestowed upon us by our children—bliss +which we shared with and imparted to each other until neither knew which +was the giver and which the receiver! Everything sad and painful seemed to +be effaced from the book of memory; and the child’s dream, the fairy-tale +woven by the power of imagination, stood before my soul as a reality—the +same reality, I repeat, which I call my past life. +</p> +<p> +“And, Charmian, if death comes to-morrow, should I say that he appeared +too early—summoned me ere he permitted life to bestow all its best +gifts upon me? No, no, and again no! Whoever, in the last hour of +existence, can say that the fairest dreams of childhood were surpassed by +a long portion of actual life, may consider himself happy, even in the +deepest need and on the verge of the grave. +</p> +<p> +“The aspiration to be first and highest among the women of her own time, +which had already thrilled the young girl’s heart, was fulfilled. The +ardent longing for love which, even at that period, pervaded my whole +being, was satisfied when I became a loving wife, mother, and Queen, and +friendship, through the favour of Destiny, also bestowed upon me its +greatest blessings by the hands of Archibius, Charmian, and Iras. +</p> +<p> +“Now I care not what may happen. This evening taught me that life had +fulfilled its pledges. But others, too, must be enabled to remember the +most brilliant of queens, who was also the most fervently beloved of +women. For this I will provide: the mausoleum which Gorgias is erecting +for me will stand like an indestructible wall between the Cleopatra who +to-day still proudly wears the crown and her approaching humiliation and +disgrace. +</p> +<p> +“Now I will go to sleep. If my awakening brings defeat, sorrow, and death, +I have no reason to accuse my fate. It denied me one thing only: the +painless peace which the child and the young girl recognized as the chief +good; yet Cleopatra will possess that also. The domain of death, which, as +the Egyptians say, loves silence, is opening its doors to me. The most +absolute peace begins upon its threshold—who knows where it ends? +The vision of the intellect does not extend far enough to discover the +boundary where, at the end of eternity—which in truth is endless—it +is replaced by something else.” +</p> +<p> +While speaking, the Queen had motioned to her friend to accompany her into +her chamber, from which a door led into the children’s room. An +irresistible impulse constrained her to open it and gaze into the dark, +empty apartment. +</p> +<p> +She felt an icy chill run through her veins. Taking a light from the hand +of one of the maids who attended her, she went to little Alexander’s +couch. Like the others, it was empty, deserted. Her head sank on her +breast, the courageous calmness with which she had surveyed her whole past +life failed and, like the luxuriant riot in the sky of the most brilliant +hues, ere the glow of sunset suddenly yields to darkness, Cleopatra’s +soul, after the lofty elation of the last few hours, underwent a sudden +transition and, overwhelmed by deep, sorrowful depression, she threw +herself down before the twins’ bed, where she lay weeping softly until +Charmian, as day began to dawn, urged her to retire to rest. Cleopatra +slowly rose, dried her eyes, and said: “My past life seemed to me just now +like a magnificent garden, but how many serpents suddenly stretched out +their flat heads with glittering eyes and forked tongues! Who tore away +the flowers beneath which they lay concealed? I think, Charmian, it was a +mysterious power which here, in the children’s apartment, rules so +strongly the most trivial as well as the strongest emotions, it was—when +did I last hear that ominous word?—it was conscience. Here, in this +abode of innocence and purity, whatever resembles a spot stands forth +distinctly before the eyes. Here, O Charmian!—if the children were +but here! If I could only—yet, no, no! It is fortunate, very +fortunate that they have gone. I must be strong; and their sweet grace +would rob me of my energy. But the light grows brighter and brighter. +Dress me for the day. It would be easier for me to sleep in a falling +house than with such a tumult in my heart.” +</p> +<p> +While she was being attired in the dark robes she had ordered, loud shouts +arose from the royal harbour below, blended with the blasts of the tuba +and other signals directing the movements of the fleet and the army, a +large body of troops having been marched during the night to the +neighbouring hills overlooking the sea. +</p> +<p> +The notes sounded bold and warlike. The well-armed galleys presented a +stately appearance. How often Cleopatra had seen unexpected events occur, +apparent impossibilities become possible! Had not the victory of +Octavianus at Actium been a miracle? What if Fate, like a capricious +ruler, now changed from frowns to smiles? What if Antony proved himself +the hero of yesterday, the general he had been in days of yore? +</p> +<p> +She had refused to see him again before the battle, that she might not +divert his thoughts from the great task approaching. But now, as she +beheld him, clad in glittering armour like the god of war himself, ride +before the troops on his fiery Barbary charger, greeting them with the gay +salutation whose warmth sprung from the heart and which had so often +kindled the warriors to glowing enthusiasm, she was forced to do violence +to her own feelings to avoid calling him and saying that her thoughts +would follow his course. But she refrained, and when his purple cloak +vanished from her sight her head drooped again. How different in former +days were the cheers of the troops when he showed himself to them! This +lukewarm response to his gay, glad greeting was no omen of victory. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch22"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER XXII. +</h3> + +<p> +Dion, too, witnessed the departure of the troops. Gorgias, whom he had +found among the Ephebi, accompanied him and, like the Queen, they saw, in +the cautious manner with which the army greeted the general, a bad omen +for the result of the battle. The architect had presented Dion to the +youths as the ghost of a dead man, who, as soon as he was asked whence he +came or whither he was going, would be compelled to vanish in the form of +a fly. He could venture to do this; he knew the Ephebi—there was no +traitor in their ranks. +</p> +<p> +Dion, the former head of the society, had been welcomed like a beloved +brother risen from the dead, and he had the gratification, after so long a +time, of turning the scale as speaker in a debate. True, he had +encountered very little opposition, for the resolve to hold aloof from the +battle against the Romans had been urged upon the Ephebi by the Queen +herself through Antyllus, who, however, had already left the meeting when +Dion joined it. It had seemed to Cleopatra a crime to claim the blood of +the noblest sons of the city for a cause which she herself deemed lost. +She knew the parents of many, and feared that Octavianus would inflict a +terrible punishment upon them if, not being enrolled in the army, they +fell into his power with arms in their hands. +</p> +<p> +The stars were already setting when the Ephebi accompanied their friend, +singing in chorus the Hymenæus, which they had been unable to chant on +his wedding day. The melody of lutes accompanied the voices, and this +nocturnal music was the source of the rumour that the god Dionysus, to +whom Mark Antony felt specially akin, and in whose form he had so often +appeared to the people, had abandoned him amid songs and music. +</p> +<p> +The youths left Dion in front of the Temple of Isis. Gorgias alone +remained with him. The architect led his friend to the Queen’s mausoleum +near the sanctuary, where men were toiling busily by torchlight. Alight +scaffolding still surrounded it, but the lofty first story, containing the +real tomb, was completed, and Dion admired the art with which the exterior +of the edifice suggested its purpose. Huge blocks of dark-grey granite +formed the walls. The broad front—solemn, almost gloomy in aspect—rose, +sloping slightly, above the massive lofty door, surmounted by a moulding +bearing the winged disk of the sun. On either side were niches containing +statues of Antony and Cleopatra cast in dark bronze, and above the cornice +were brazen figures of Love and Death, Fame and Silence, ennobling the +Egyptian forms with exquisite works of Hellenic art. +</p> +<p> +The massive door, adorned with brass figures in relief, would have +resisted a battering-ram. On the side of the steps leading to it lay +Sphinxes of dark-green diorite. Everything connected with this building, +dedicated to death, was grave and massive, suggesting by its +indestructibility the idea of eternity. +</p> +<p> +The second story was not yet finished; masons and stone-cutters were +engaged in covering the strong walls with dark serpentine and black +marble. The huge windlass stood ready to raise a masterpiece of +Alexandrian art. This was intended for the pediment, and represented Venus +Victrix with helmet, shield, and lance, leading a band of winged gods of +love, little archers at whose head Eros himself was discharging arrows, +and victoriously fighting against the three-headed Cerberus, death, +already bleeding from many wounds. +</p> +<p> +There was no time to see the interior of the building, for Pyrrhus +expected his guest to join him at the harbour at sunrise, and the eastern +sky was already brightening with the approach of dawn. +</p> +<p> +As the friends reached the landing-place the brass dome of the Serapeum, +which towered above everything, was glittering with dazzling splendour. +The pennons and masts of the fleet which was about to set sail from the +harbour seemed steeped in a sea of golden light. Tremulous reflections of +the brazen and gilded figures on the prows of the vessels were mirrored in +the undulating surface of the sea, and the long shadows of the banks of +oars united galley after galley on the surface of the water like the +meshes of a net. +</p> +<p> +Here the friends parted, and Dion walked down the quay alone to meet the +freedman, who must have found it difficult to guide his boat out of this +labyrinth of vessels. The inspection of the mausoleum had detained the +young father too long and, though disguised beyond recognition, he +reproached himself for having recklessly incurred a danger whose +consequences—he felt this to-day for the first time—would not +injure himself alone. The whole fleet was awaiting the signal for +departure. The vessels which did not belong to it had been obliged to moor +in front of the Temple of Poseidon, and all were strictly forbidden to +leave the anchorage. +</p> +<p> +Pyrrhus’s fishing-boat was in the midst, and return to the Serpent Island +was impossible at present. +</p> +<p> +How vexatious! Barine was ignorant of his trip to the city, and to be +compelled to leave her alone while a naval battle was in progress directly +before her eyes distressed him as much as it could not fail to alarm her. +</p> +<p> +In fact, the young mother had waited from early dawn with increasing +anxiety for her husband. As the sun rose higher, and the strokes of the +oars propelling two hundred galleys, the shrill whistle of the flutes +marking the time, the deep voices of the captains shouting orders, and the +blasts of the trumpets filling the air, were heard far and near around the +island, she became so overwhelmed with uneasiness that she insisted upon +going to the shore, though hitherto she had not been permitted to take the +air except under the awning stretched for the purpose on the shady side of +the house. +</p> +<p> +In vain the women urged her not to let her fears gain the mastery and to +have patience. But she would have resisted even force in order to look for +him who, with her child, now comprised her world. +</p> +<p> +When, leaning on Helena’s arm, she reached the shore, no boat was in +sight. The sea was covered with ships of war, floating fortresses, moving +onward like dragons with a thousand legs whose feet were the countless +rowers arranged in three or five sets. Each of the larger galleys was +surrounded by smaller ones, from most of which darted dazzling flashes of +light, for they were crowded with armed men, and from the prows of the +strong boarding vessels the sunbeams glittered on the large shining metal +points whose office was to pierce the wooden sides of the foe. The gilded +statues in the prows of the large galleys shone and sparkled in the broad +radiance of the day-star, and flashes of light also came from the low +hills on the shore. Here Mark Antony’s soldiers were stationed, and the +sunbeams reflected from the helmets, coats of mail, and lance-heads of the +infantry, and the armour of the horsemen quivered with dazzling brilliancy +in the hot air of the first day of an Egyptian August. +</p> +<p> +Amid this blazing, flashing, and sparkling in the morning air, so steeped +in warmth and radiance, the sounds of warlike preparations from the land +and fleet constantly grew louder. Barine, exhausted, had just sunk into a +chair which Dione, the fisherman’s daughter, had placed in the shade of +the highest rock on the northwestern shore of the flat island, when a +crashing blast of the tuba suddenly echoed from all the galleys in the +Egyptian fleet, and the whole array of vessels filed past the Pharos at +the opening of the harbour into the open sea. +</p> +<p> +There the narrow ranks of the wooden giants separated and moved onward in +broader lines. This was done quietly and in the same faultless order as a +few days before, when a similar manœuvre had been executed under the eyes +of Mark Antony. +</p> +<p> +The longing for combat seemed to urge them steadily forward. +</p> +<p> +The hostile fleet, lying motionless, awaited the attack. But the Egyptian +assailants had advanced majestically only a few ships lengths towards the +Roman foe when another signal rent the air. The women whose ears caught +the waves of sound said afterwards that it seemed like a cry of agony—it +had given the signal for a deed of unequalled treachery. The slaves, +criminals, and the basest of the mercenaries on the rowers’ benches in the +hold had doubtless long listened intently for it, and, when it finally +came, the men on the upper benches raised their long oars and held them +aloft, which stopped the work of those below, and every galley paused, +pointing at the next with the wooden oars outstretched like fingers, as if +seized with horror. The celerity and faultless order with which the +raising of the oars was executed and vessel after vessel brought to a +stand would have been a credit to an honourable captain, but the manœuvre +introduced one of the basest acts ever recorded in history; and the women, +who had witnessed many a <i>naumachia</i> and understood its meaning, exclaimed +as if with a single voice: “Treachery! They are going over to the enemy!” +</p> +<p> +Mark Antony’s fleet, created for him by Cleopatra, surrendered, down to +the last galley, to Cæsar’s heir, the victor of Actium; and the man to +whom the sailors had vowed allegiance, who had drilled them, and only +yesterday had urged them to offer a gallant resistance, saw from one of +the downs on the shore the strong weapons on which he had based the +fairest hopes, not shattered, but delivered into the hands of the enemy! +</p> +<p> +The surrender of the fleet to the foe—he knew it—sealed his +destruction; and the women on the shore of the Serpent Island, who were so +closely connected with those on whom this misfortune fell, suspected the +same thing. The hearts of both were stirred, and their eyes grew dim with +tears of indignation and sorrow. They were Alexandrians, and did not +desire to be ruled by Rome. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra, daughter of the Macedonian house of the Ptolemies, had the +sole right to govern the city of her ancestors, founded by the great +Macedonian. The sorrow they had themselves endured through her sank +into insignificance beside the tremendous blow of Fate which in this +hour reached the Queen. +</p> +<p> +The Roman and Egyptian fleet returned to the harbour as one vast squadron +under the same commander, and anchored in the roadstead of the city, which +was now its precious booty. +</p> +<p> +Barine had seen enough, and returned to the house with drooping head. Her +heart was heavy, and her anxiety for the man she loved hourly increased. +</p> +<p> +It seemed as if the very day-star shrank from illuminating so infamous a +deed with friendly light; for the dazzling, searching sun of the first of +August veiled its radiant face with a greyish-white mist, and the +desecrated sea wrinkled its brow, changed its pure azure robe to yellowish +grey and blackish green, while the white foam hissed on the crests of the +angry waves. +</p> +<p> +As twilight began to approach, the anxiety of the deserted wife became +unendurable. Not only Helena’s wise words of caution, but the sight of her +child, failed to exert their usual influence; and Barine had already +summoned the son of Pyrrhus to persuade him to take her in his boat to the +city, when Dione saw a boat approaching the Serpent Island from the +direction of the sea. +</p> +<p> +A short time after, Dion sprang on shore and kissed from his young wife’s +lips the reproaches with which she greeted him. +</p> +<p> +He had heard of the treachery of the fleet while entering a hired boat +with the freedman in the harbour of Eunostus, Pyrrhus’s having been +detained with the other craft before the Temple of Poseidon. +</p> +<p> +The experienced pilot had been obliged to steer the boat in a wider curve +against the wind through the open sea, and was delayed a long time by a +number of the war vessels of the fleet. +</p> +<p> +Danger and separation were now passed, and they rejoiced in the happiness +of meeting, yet could not feel genuine joy. Their souls were oppressed by +anxiety concerning the fate of the Queen and their native city. +</p> +<p> +As night closed in the dogs barked violently, and they heard loud voices +on the shore. Dion, with a presentiment that misfortune was threatening +himself and his dear ones, obeyed the summons. +</p> +<p> +No star illumined the darkness. Only the wavering light of a lantern on +the strand and another on the nearest island illumined the immediate +vicinity, while southward the lights in the city shone as brightly as +ever. +</p> +<p> +Pyrrhus and his youngest son were just pushing a boat into the water to +release from the sands another which had run aground in a shallow near the +neighbouring island. +</p> +<p> +Dion sprang in with them, and soon recognized in the hail the voice of the +architect Gorgias. +</p> +<p> +The young father shouted a joyous greeting to his friend, but there was no +reply. +</p> +<p> +Soon after, Pyrrhus landed his belated guest on the shore. He had escaped—as +the fisherman explained—a great danger; for had he gone to the other +island, which swarmed with venomous serpents, he might easily have fallen +a victim to the bite of one of the reptiles. +</p> +<p> +Gorgias grasped Dion’s hand but, in reply to his gay invitation to +accompany him to the house at once, he begged him to listen to his story +before joining the ladies. +</p> +<p> +Dion was startled. He knew his friend. When his deep voice had such a tone +of gloomy discouragement, and his head drooped so mournfully, some +terrible event had befallen him. +</p> +<p> +His foreboding had been correct. The first tidings pierced his own soul +deeply. +</p> +<p> +He was not surprised to learn that the Romans ruled Alexandria; but a +small band of the conquerors, who had been ordered to conduct themselves +as if they were in a friendly country, had forced their way into the +architect’s large house to occupy the quarters assigned to them. The deaf +grandmother of Helena and Barine, who had but half comprehended what +threatened the citizens, terrified by the noisy entrance of the soldiers, +had had another attack of apoplexy, and closed her eyes in death before +Gorgias set out for the island. +</p> +<p> +But it was not only this sad event, which must grieve the hearts of the +two sisters, that had brought the architect in a stranger’s boat to the +Serpent Island at so late an hour. His soul was so agitated by the +horrible incidents of the day that he needed to seek consolation among +those from whom he was sure to find sympathy. +</p> +<p> +Nor was it wholly the terrible things Fate had compelled him to witness +which induced him to venture out upon the sea so recklessly, but still +more the desire to bring to the fugitives the happy news that they might +return with safety to their native city. +</p> +<p> +Deeply agitated—nay, confused and overpowered by all he had seen and +experienced—the architect, usually so clear and, with all his mental +vivacity, so circumspect, began his story. A remonstrance from Dion +induced him to collect his thoughts and describe events in the order in +which they had befallen him. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch23"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER XXIII. +</h3> + +<p> +After accompanying Dion to the harbour, the architect had gone to the +Forum to converse with the men he met there, and learn what they feared +and expected in regard to the future fate of the city. +</p> +<p> +All news reached this meeting-place first, and he found a large number of +Macedonian citizens who, like himself, wished to discuss passing events in +these decisive hours. +</p> +<p> +The scene was very animated, for the most contradictory messages were +constantly arriving from the fleet and the army. +</p> +<p> +At first they were very favourable; then came the news of the treason, and +soon after of the desertion of the cavalry and foot soldiers. +</p> +<p> +A distinguished citizen had seen Mark Antony, accompanied by several +friends, dashing down the quay. The goal of their flight was the little +palace on the Choma. +</p> +<p> +Grave men, whose opinion met with little opposition, thought that it was +the duty of the Imperator—now that Fate had decided against him, and +nothing remained save a life sullied by disgrace—to put himself to +death with his own hand, like Brutus and so many other noble Romans. +Tidings soon came that he had attempted to do what the best citizens +expected. +</p> +<p> +Gorgias could not endure to remain longer in the Forum, but hastened to +the Choma, though it was difficult to force his way to the wall, where a +breach had been made. He had found the portion of the shore from which the +promontory ran densely crowded with people—from whom he learned that +Antony was no longer in the palace—and the sea filled with boats. +</p> +<p> +A corpse was just being borne out of the little palace on the Street of +the King and, among those who followed, Gorgias recognized one of Antony’s +slaves. The man’s eyes were red with weeping. He readily obeyed the +architect’s sign and, sobbing bitterly, told him that the hapless general, +after his army had betrayed him, fled hither. When he heard in the palace +that Cleopatra had preceded him to Hades, he ordered his body-slave Eros +to put an end to his life also. The worthy man drew back, pierced his own +breast with his sword, and sank dying at his master’s feet; but Antony, +exclaiming that Eros’s example had taught him his duty, thrust the short +sword into his breast with his own hand. Yet deep and severe as was the +wound, it did not destroy the tremendous vitality of the gigantic Roman. +With touching entreaties he implored the bystanders to kill him, but no +one could bring himself to commit the deed. Meanwhile Cleopatra’s name, +coupled with the wish to follow her, was constantly on the lips of the +Imperator. +</p> +<p> +At last Diomedes, the Queen’s private secretary, appeared, to bring him, +by her orders, to the mausoleum where she had taken refuge. +</p> +<p> +Antony, as if animated with fresh vigour, assented, and while being +carried thither gave orders that Eros should have a worthy burial. Even +though dying, it would have been impossible for the most generous of +masters to permit any kindness rendered to pass unrequited. +</p> +<p> +The slave again wept aloud as he uttered the words, but Gorgias hastened +at once to the tomb. +</p> +<p> +The nearest way, the Street of the King, had become so crowded with +people who had been forced back by Roman soldiers, between the +Theatre of Dionysus and the Corner of the Muses, that he had been +compelled to reach the building through a side street. +</p> +<p> +The quay was already unrecognizable, and even in the other streets the +populace showed a foreign aspect. Instead of peaceful citizens, Roman +soldiers in full armour were met everywhere. Instead of Greek, Egyptian, +and Syrian faces, fair and dark visages of alien appearance were seen. +</p> +<p> +The city seemed transformed into a camp. Here he met a cohort of +fair-haired Germans; yonder another with locks of red whose home he did +not know; and again a <i>vexil</i> of Numidian or Pannonian horsemen. +</p> +<p> +At the Temple of the Dioscuri he was stopped. A Hispanian maniple had just +seized Antony’s son Antyllus and, after a hasty court-martial, killed him. +His tutor, Theodotus, had betrayed him to the Romans, but the infamous +fellow was being led with bound hands after the corpse of the hapless +youth, because he was caught in the act of hiding in his girdle a costly +jewel which he had taken from his neck. Before his departure for the +island Gorgias heard that the scoundrel had been sentenced to crucifixion. +</p> +<p> +At last he succeeded in forcing a passage to the tomb, which he found +surrounded on all sides by Roman lictors and the Scythian guards of the +city, who, however, permitted him, as the architect, to pass. +</p> +<p> +The numerous obstacles by which he had been delayed spared him from +becoming an eye-witness of the most terrible scenes of the tragedy which +had just ended; but he received a minute description from the Queen’s +private secretary, a well-disposed Macedonian, who had accompanied the +wounded Antony, and with whom Gorgias had become intimately acquainted +during the building of the mausoleum. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra had fled to the tomb as soon as the fortune of war turned in +favour of Octavianus. No one was permitted to accompany her except +Charmian and Iras, who had helped her close the heavy brazen door of the +massive building. The false report of her death, which had induced Antony +to put an end to his life, had perhaps arisen from the fact that the Queen +was literally in the tomb. +</p> +<p> +When, borne in the arms of his faithful servants, he reached the +mausoleum, mortally wounded, the Queen and her attendants vainly +endeavoured to open the heavy brazen portal. But Cleopatra ardently longed +to see her dying lover. She wished to have him near to render the last +services, assure him once more of her devotion, close his eyes, and, if it +was so ordered, die with him. +</p> +<p> +So she and her attendants had searched the place, and when Iras spoke of +the windlass which stood on the scaffold to raise the heavy brass plate +bearing the bas-relief of Love conquering Death, the Queen and her friends +hastened up the stairs, the bearer below fastened the wounded man to the +rope, and Cleopatra herself stood at the windlass to raise him, aided by +her faithful companions. +</p> +<p> +Diomedes averred that he had never beheld a more piteous spectacle than +the gigantic man hovering between heaven and earth in the agonies of death +and, while suffering the most terrible torture, extending his arms +longingly towards the woman he loved. Though scarcely able to speak, he +tenderly called her name, but she made no reply; like Iras and Charmian, +she was exerting her whole strength at the windlass in the most passionate +effort to raise him. The rope running over the pulley cut her tender +hands; her beautiful face was terribly distorted; but she did not pause +until they had succeeded in lifting the burden of the dying man higher and +higher till he reached the floor of the scaffolding. The frantic exertion +by which the three women had succeeded in accomplishing an act far beyond +their strength, though it was doubled by the power of the most earnest +will and ardent longing, would nevertheless have failed in attaining its +object had not Diomedes, at the last moment, come to their assistance. He +was a strong man, and by his aid the dying Roman was seized, drawn upon +the scaffolding, and carried down the staircase to the tomb in the first +story. +</p> +<p> +When the wounded general had been laid on one of the couches with which +the great hall was already furnished, the private secretary retired, but +remained on the staircase, an unnoticed spectator, in order to be at hand +in case the Queen again needed his assistance. Flushed from the terrible +exertion which she had just made, with tangled, dishevelled locks, gasping +and moaning, Cleopatra, as if out of her senses, tore open her robe, beat +her breast, and lacerated it with her nails. Then, pressing her own +beautiful face on her lover’s wound to stanch the flowing blood, she +lavished upon him all the endearing names which she had bestowed on their +love. +</p> +<p> +His terrible suffering made her forget her own and the sad fate impending. +Tears of pity fell like the refreshing drops of a shower upon the still +unwithered blossoms of their love, and brought those which, during the +preceding night, had revived anew, to their last magnificent unfolding. +</p> +<p> +Boundless, limitless as her former passion for this man, was now the grief +with which his agonizing death filled her heart. +</p> +<p> +All that Mark Antony had been to her in the heyday of life, all their +mutual experiences, all that each had received from the other, had +returned to her memory in clear and vivid hues during the banquet which +had closed a few hours ago. Now these scenes, condensed into a narrow +compass, again passed before her mental vision, but only to reveal more +distinctly the depth of misery of this hour. At last anguish forced even +the clearest memories into oblivion: she saw nothing save the tortures of +her lover; her brain, still active, revealed solely the gulf at her feet, +and the tomb which yawned not only for Antony, but for herself. +</p> +<p> +Unable to think of the happiness enjoyed in the past or to hope for it in +the future, she gave herself up to uncontrolled despair, and no woman of +the people could have yielded more absolutely to the consuming grief which +rent her heart, or expressed it in wilder, more frantic language, than did +this great Queen, this woman who as a child had been so sensitive to the +slightest suffering, and whose after-life had certainly not taught her to +bear sorrow with patience. After Charmian, at the dying man’s request, had +given him some wine, he found strength to speak coherently, instead of +moaning and sighing. +</p> +<p> +He tenderly urged Cleopatra to secure her own safety, if it could be done +without dishonour, and mentioned Proculejus as the man most worthy of her +confidence among the friends of Octavianus. Then he entreated her not to +mourn for him, but to consider him happy; for he had enjoyed the richest +favours of Fortune. He owed his brightest hours to her love; but he had +also been the first and most powerful man on earth. Now he was dying in +the arms of Love, honourable as a Roman who succumbed to Romans. +</p> +<p> +In this conviction he died after a short struggle. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra had watched his last breath, closed his eyes, and then thrown +herself tearlessly on her lover’s body. At last she fainted, and lay +unconscious with her head upon his marble breast. +</p> +<p> +The private secretary had witnessed all this, and then returned with +tearful eyes to the second story. There he met Gorgias, who had climbed +the scaffolding, and told him what he had seen and heard from the stairs. +But his story was scarcely ended when a carriage stopped at the Corner of +the Muses and an aristocratic Roman alighted. +</p> +<p> +This was the very Proculejus whom the dying Antony had recommended to the +woman he loved as worthy of her confidence. +</p> +<p> +“In fact,” Gorgias continued, “he seemed in form and features one of the +noblest of his haughty race. He came commissioned by Octavianus, and is +said to be warmly devoted to the Cæsar, and a well-disposed man. We have +also heard him mentioned as a poet and a brother-in-law of Mæcenas. A +wealthy aristocrat, he is a generous patron of literature, and also holds +art and science in high esteem. Timagenes lauds his culture and noble +nature. Perhaps the historian was right; but where the object in question +is the state and its advantage, what we here regard as worthy of a free +man appears to be considered of little moment at the court of Octavianus. +The lord to whom he gives his services intrusted him with a difficult +task, and Proculejus doubtless considered it his duty to make every effort +to perform it—and yet—— If I see aright, a day will come +when he will curse this, and the obedience with which he, a free man, +aided Cæsar—— But listen. +</p> +<p> +“Erect and haughty in his splendid suit of armour, he knocked at the door +of the tomb. Cleopatra had regained consciousness and asked—she must +have known him in Rome—what he desired. +</p> +<p> +“He had come, he answered courteously, by the command of Octavianus, to +negotiate with her, and the Queen expressed her willingness to listen, but +refused to admit him into the mausoleum. +</p> +<p> +“So they talked with each other through the door. With dignified +composure, she asked to have the sons whom she had given to Antony—not +Cæsarion—acknowledged as Kings of Egypt. +</p> +<p> +“Proculejus instantly promised to convey her wishes to Cæsar, and gave +hopes of their fulfilment. +</p> +<p> +“While she was speaking of the children and their claims—she did not +mention her own future—the Roman questioned her about Mark Antony’s +death, and then described the destruction of the dead man’s army and other +matters of trivial importance. Proculejus did not look like a babbler, but +I felt a suspicion that he was intentionally trying to hold the attention +of the Queen. This proved to be his design; he had been merely waiting for +Cornelius Gallus, the commander of the fleet, of whom you have heard. He, +too, ranks among the chief men in Rome, and yet he made himself the +accomplice of Proculejus. +</p> +<p> +“The latter retired as soon as he had presented the new-comer to the +hapless woman. +</p> +<p> +“I remained at my post and now heard Gallus assure Cleopatra of his +master’s sympathy. With the most bombastic exaggeration he described how +bitterly Octavianus mourned in Mark Antony the friend, the brother-in-law, +the co-ruler and sharer in so many important enterprises. He had shed +burning tears over the tidings of his death. Never had more sincere ones +coursed down any man’s cheeks. +</p> +<p> +“Gallus, too, seemed to me to be intentionally prolonging the +conversation. +</p> +<p> +“Then, while I was listening intently to understand Cleopatra’s brief +replies, my foreman, who, when the workmen were driven away by the Romans, +had concealed himself between two blocks of granite, came to me and said +that Proculejus had just climbed a ladder to the scaffold in the rear of +the monument. Two servants followed, and they had all stolen down into the +hall. +</p> +<p> +“I hastily started up. I had been lying on the floor with my head +outstretched to listen. +</p> +<p> +“Cost what it might, the Queen must be warned. Treachery was certainly at +work here. +</p> +<p> +“But I came too late. +</p> +<p> +“O Dion! If I had only been informed a few minutes before, perhaps +something still more terrible might have happened, but the Queen would +have been spared what now threatens her. What can she expect from the +conqueror who, in order to seize her alive, condescends to outwit a noble, +defenceless woman, who has succumbed to superior power? +</p> +<p> +“Death would have released the unhappy Queen from sore trouble and +horrible shame. And she had already raised the dagger against her life. +Before my eyes she flung aloft her beautiful arm with the flashing steel, +which glittered in the light of the candles in the many-branched +candelabra beside the sarcophagi. But I will try to remain calm! You shall +hear what happened in regular order. My thoughts grow confused as the +terrible scene recurs to my memory. To describe it as I saw it, I should +need to be a poet, an artist in words; for what passed before me happened +on a stage—you know, it was a tomb. The walls were of dark +stone—dark, too, were the pillars and ceiling—all dark and +glittering; most portions were smoothly polished stone, shining like a +mirror. Near the sarcophagi, and around the candelabra as far as the +vicinity of the door, where the rascally trick was played, the light was +brilliant as in a festal hall. Every blood-stain on the hand, every +scratch, every wound which the desperate woman had torn with her own nails +on her bosom, which gleamed snow-white from her black robes, was +distinctly visible. Farther away, on the right and left, the light was +dim, and near the side walls the darkness was as intense as in a real +tomb. On the smooth porphyry columns, the glittering black marble and +serpentine—here, there, and everywhere—flickered the wavering +reflection of the candlelight. The draught kept it continually in motion, +and it wavered to and fro in the hall, like the restless souls of the +damned. Wherever the eye turned it met darkness. The end of the hall +seemed black—black as the anteroom of Hades—yet through it +pierced a brilliant moving bar; sunbeams which streamed from the stairway +into the tomb and amid which danced tiny motes. How the scene impressed +the eye! The home of gloomy Hecate! And the Queen and her impending fate. +A picture flooded with light, standing forth in radiant relief against the +darkness of the heavy, majestic forms surrounding it in a wide circle. +This tomb in this light would be a palace meet for the gloomy rule of the +king of the troop of demons conjured up by the power of a magician—if +they have a ruler. But where am I wandering? ‘The artist!’ I hear you +exclaim again, ‘the artist! Instead of rushing forward and interposing, he +stands studying the light and its effects in the royal tomb.’ Yes, yes; I +had come too late, too late—far too late! On the stairs leading to +the lower story of the building I saw it, but I was not to blame for the +delay—not in the least! +</p> +<p> +“At first I had been unable to see the men—or even a shadow; but I +beheld plainly in the brightest glare of the light the body of Mark Antony +on the couch and, in the dusk farther towards the right, Iras and Charmian +trying to raise a trapdoor. It was the one which closed the passage +leading to the combustible materials stored in the cellar. A sign from the +Queen had commanded them to fire it. The first steps of the staircase, +down which I was hastening, were already behind me—then—then +Proculejus, with two men, suddenly dashed from the intense darkness on the +other side. Scarcely able to control myself, I sprang down the remaining +steps, and while Iras’s shrill cry, ‘Poor Cleopatra, they will capture +you!’ still rang in my ears, I saw the betrayed Queen turn from the door +through which, resolved on death, she was saying something to Gallus, +perceive Proculejus close behind her, thrust her hand into her girdle, and +with the speed of lightning—you have already heard so—throw up +her arm with the little dagger to bury the sharp blade in her breast. What +a picture! In the full radiance of the brilliant light, she resembled a +statue of triumphant victory or of noble pride in great deeds +accomplished; and then, then, only an instant later, what an outrage was +inflicted! +</p> +<p> +“Like a robber, an assassin, Proculejus rushed upon her, seized her arm, +and wrested the weapon from her grasp. His tall figure concealed her from +me. But when, struggling to escape from the ruffian’s clutch, she again +turned her face towards the hall, what a transformation had occurred! Her +eyes—you know how large they are—were twice their usual size, +and blazed with scorn, fury, and hatred for the traitor. The cheering +light had become a consuming fire. So I imagine the vengeance, the curse +which calls down ruin upon the head of a foe. And Proculejus, the great +lord, the poet whose noble nature is praised by the authors on the banks +of the Tiber, held the defenceless woman, the worthy daughter of a +brilliant line of kings, in a firm grasp, as if it required the exertion +of all his strength to master this delicate embodiment of charming +womanhood. True, the proud blood of the outwitted lioness urged her to +resist this profanation, and Proculejus—an enviable honour—made +her feel the superior strength of his arm. I am no prophet, but Dion, I +repeat, this shameful struggle and the glances which flashed upon him will +be remembered to his dying hour. Had they been darted at me, I should have +cursed my life. They blanched even the Roman’s cheeks. He was lividly +pale as he completed what he deemed his duty. His own aristocratic hands +were degraded to the menial task of searching the garments of a woman, the +Queen, for forbidden wares, poisons or weapons. He was aided by one of +Cæsar’s freedmen, Epaphroditus, who is said to stand so high in the +favour of Octavianus. +</p> +<p> +“The scoundrel also searched Iras and Charmian, yet all the time both +Romans constantly spoke in cajoling terms of Cæsar’s favour; and his +desire to grant Cleopatra everything which was due a Queen. +</p> +<p> +“At last she was taken back to Lochias, but I felt like a madman; for the +image of the unfortunate woman pursued me like my shadow. It was no longer +a vision of the bewitching sovereign—nay, it resembled the incarnation of +despair, tearless anguish, wrath demanding vengeance. I will not describe +it; but those eyes, those flashing, threatening eyes, and the tangled hair +on which Antony’s blood had flowed—terrible, horrible! My heart grew +chill, as if I had seen upon Athene’s shield the head of the Medusa with +its serpent locks. +</p> +<p> +“It had been impossible for me to warn her in time, or even to seize the +traitor’s arm—I have already said so—and yet, yet her shining +image gazed reproachfully at me for my cowardly delay. Her glance still +haunts me, robbing me of calmness and peace. Not until I gaze into +Helena’s pure, calm eyes will that terrible vision of the face, flooded by +light in the midst of the tomb, cease to haunt me.” +</p> +<p> +His friend laid his hand on his arm, spoke soothingly to him, and reminded +him of the blessings which this terrible day—he had said so himself—had +brought. +</p> +<p> +Dion was right to give this warning; for Gorgias’s bearing and the very +tone of his voice changed as he eagerly declared that the frightful events +had been followed by more than happy ones for the city, his friend, and +Barine. +</p> +<p> +Then, with a sigh of relief, he continued: “I pursued my way home like a +drunken man. Every attempt to approach the Queen or her attendants was +baffled, but I learned from Charmian’s clever Nubian that Cleopatra had +been permitted, in Cæsar’s name, to choose the palace she desired to +occupy, and had selected the one at Lochias. +</p> +<p> +“I did not make much progress towards my house; the crowd in front of the +great gymnasium stopped me. Octavianus had gone into the city, and the +people, I heard, had greeted him with acclamations and flung themselves on +their knees before him. Our stiff-necked Alexandrians in the dust before +the victor! It enraged me, but my resentment was diminished. +</p> +<p> +“The members of the gymnasium all knew me. They made way and, ere I was +aware of it, I had passed through the door. Tall Phryxus had drawn my arm +through his. He appears and vanishes at will, is as alert as he is rich, +sees and hears everything, and manages to secure the best places. This +time he had again succeeded; for when he released me we were standing +opposite to a newly erected tribune. +</p> +<p> +“They were waiting for Octavianus, who was still in the hypostyle of +Euergetes receiving the homage of the epitrop, the members of the Council, +the gymnasiarch, and I know not how many others. +</p> +<p> +“Phryxus said that on Cæsar’s entry he had held out his hand to his +former tutor, bade him accompany him, and commanded that his sons should +be presented. The philosopher had been distinguished above every one else, +and this will benefit you and yours; for he is Berenike’s brother, and +therefore your wife’s uncle. What he desires is sure to be granted. You +will hear at once how studiously the Cæsar distinguishes him. I do not +grudge it to the man; he interceded boldly for Barine; he is lauded as an +able scholar, and he does not lack courage. In spite of Actium and the +only disgraceful deed with which, to my knowledge, Mark Antony could be +reproached—I mean the surrender of Turullius—Arius remained +here, though the Imperator might have held the friend of Julius Cæsar’s +nephew as a hostage as easily as he gave up the Emperor’s assassin. +</p> +<p> +“Since Octavianus encamped before the city, your uncle has been in serious +danger, and his sons shared his peril. Surely you must know the handsome, +vigorous young Ephebi. +</p> +<p> +“We were not obliged to wait long in the gymnasium ere the Cæsar appeared +on the platform; and now—if your hand clenches, it is only what I +expect—now all fell on their knees. Our turbulent, rebellious rabble +raised their hands like pleading beggars, and grave, dignified men +followed their example. Whoever saw me and Phryxus will remember us among +the kneeling lickspittles; for had we remained standing we should +certainly have been dragged down. So we followed the example of the +others.” +</p> +<p> +“And Octavianus?” asked Dion eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“A man of regal bearing and youthful aspect; beardless face of the finest +chiselling, a profile as beautiful as if created for the coin-maker; all +the lines sharp and yet pleasing; every inch an aristocrat; but the very +mirror of a cold nature, incapable of any lofty aspiration, any warm +emotion, any tenderness of feeling. All in all, a handsome, haughty, +calculating man, whose friendship would hardly benefit the heart, but from +whose enmity may the immortals guard all we love! +</p> +<p> +“Again he led Arius by the hand. The philosopher’s sons followed the pair. +When he stood on the stage, looking down upon the thousands kneeling +before him, not a muscle of his noble face—it is certainly that—betrayed +the slightest emotion. He gazed at us like a farmer surveying his flocks +and, after a long silence, said curtly in excellent Greek that he absolved +the Alexandrians from all guilt towards him: first—he counted as if +he were summoning individual veterans to reward them—from respect +for the illustrious founder of our city, Alexander, the conqueror of the +world; secondly, because the greatness and beauty of Alexandria filled him +with admiration; and, thirdly—he turned to Arius as he spoke—to +give pleasure to his admirable and beloved friend. +</p> +<p> +“Then shouts of joy burst forth. +</p> +<p> +“Every one, from the humblest to the greatest, had had a heavy burden +removed from his mind, and the throng had scarcely left the gymnasium when +they were again laughing saucily enough, and there was no lack of biting +and innocent jests. The fat carpenter, Memnon—who furnished the +wood-work for your palace—exclaimed close beside me that formerly a +dolphin had saved Arius from the pirates; now Arius was saving marine +Alexandria from the robbers. So the sport went on. Philostratus, +Barine’s first husband, offered the best butt for jests. The agitator +had good reason to fear the worst; and now, clad in black mourning robes, +ran after Arius, whom but a few months ago he persecuted with the most +vindictive hatred, continually repeating this shallow bit of verse: +</p> +<div class="quote"> +“ ‘If he is a wise man, let the wise aid the wise.’ +</div> +<p> +“Reaching home was not easy. The street was swarming with Roman soldiers. +They fared well enough; for in the joy of their hearts many a prosperous +citizen who saw his property saved invited individual warriors, or even a +whole maniple, to the taverns or cook-shops, and the stock of wine in +Alexandrian cellars will be considerably diminished to-night. +</p> +<p> +“Many, as I have already said, had been quartered in the houses, with +orders to spare the property of the citizens; and it was in this way that +the misfortune with which I commenced my narrative befell the grandmother. +She died before my departure. +</p> +<p> +“All the gates of the city will now stand open to you, and the niece of +Arius and her husband will be received with ovations. I don’t grudge +Barine the good fortune; for the way in which your noble wife, who had +cast her spell over me too, flung aside what is always dear to the admired +city beauty and found on the loneliest of islands a new world in love, is +worthy of all admiration and praise. For yourself, I dread new happiness +and honours; if they are added to those which Fate bestowed upon you in +such a wife and your son Pyrrhus, the gods would not be themselves if they +did not pursue you with their envy. I have less reason to fear them.” +</p> +<p> +“Ungrateful fellow!” interrupted his friend. “There will be numerous +mortals to grudge you Helena. As for me, I have already felt many a slight +foreboding; but we have already paid by no means a small tribute to the +divine ones. The lamp is still burning in the sitting-room. Inform the +sisters of their grandmother’s death, and tell them the pleasant tidings +you have brought us, but reserve until the morning a description of the +terrible scenes you witnessed. We will not spoil their sleep. Mark my +words! Helena’s silent grief and her joy at our escape will lighten your +heart.” +</p> +<p> +And so it proved. True, Gorgias lived over again in his dreams the +frightful spectacle witnessed the day before; but when the sun of the 2d +day of August rose in full radiance over Alexandria and, early in the +morning, boat after boat reached the Serpent Island, landing first +Berenike and her nephews, the sons of the honoured philosopher Arius, then +clients, officials, and friends of Dion, and former favourite guests of +Barine, to greet the young pair and escort them from the refuge which had +so long sheltered them back to the city and their midst, new and pleasant +impressions robbed the gloomy picture of a large portion of its terrors. +</p> +<p> +“Tall Phryxus” had rapidly spread the news of the place where Dion and +Barine had vanished, and that they had long been happily wedded. Many +deemed it well worth a short voyage to see the actors in so strange an +adventure and be the first to greet them. Besides, those who knew Barine +and her husband were curious to learn how two persons accustomed to the +life of a great capital had endured for months such complete solitude. +Many feared or expected to see them emaciated and careworn, haggard or +sunk in melancholy, and hence there were a number of astonished faces +among those whose boats the freedman Pyrrhus guided as pilot through the +shallows which protected his island. +</p> +<p> +The return of this rare couple to their home would have afforded an +excellent opportunity for gay festivities. Sincerely as the majority of +the populace mourned the fate of the Queen, and gravely as the more +thoughtful feared for Alexandria’s freedom under Roman rule, all rejoiced +over the lenient treatment of the city. Their lives and property were +safe, and the celebration of festivals had become a life habit with all +classes. But the news of the death of Didymus’s wife and the illness of +the old man, who could not bear up under the loss of his faithful +companion, gave Dion a right to refuse any gay welcome at his home. +</p> +<p> +Barine’s sorrow was his also, and Didymus died a few days after his wife, +with whom he had lived in the bonds of love for more than half a century—people +said, “of a broken heart.” +</p> +<p> +So Dion and his young wife entered his beautiful palace with no noisy +festivities. Instead of the jubilant hymenæus, the voice of his own child +greeted him on the threshold. +</p> +<p> +The mourning garments in which Barine welcomed him in the women’s +apartment reminded him of the envy of the gods which his friend had feared +for him. But he often fancied that his mother’s statue in the tablinum +looked specially happy when the young mistress of the house entered it. +</p> +<p> +Barine, too, felt that her happiness as wife and mother in her magnificent +home would have been overwhelming had not a wise destiny imposed upon her, +just at this time, grief for those whom she loved. +</p> +<p> +Dion instantly devoted himself again to the affairs of the city and his +own business. He and the woman he loved, who had first become really his +own during a time of sore privation, had run into the harbour and gazed +quietly at the storms of life. The anchor of love, which moored their ship +to the solid earth, had been tested in the solitude of the Serpent Island. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch24"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER XXIV. +</h3> + +<p> +The fisherman and his family had watched the departure of their beloved +guests with sorrowful hearts, and the women had shed many tears, although +the sons of Pyrrhus had been dismissed from the fleet and were again +helping their father at home, as in former times. +</p> +<p> +Besides, Dion had made the faithful freedman a prosperous man, and given +his daughter, Dione, a marriage dowry. She was soon to become the wife of +the captain of the Epicurus, Archibius’s swift galley, whose acquaintance +she had made when the vessel, on several occasions, brought Charmian’s +Nubian maid to the island. Anukis’s object in making these visits was not +only to see her friend, but to induce him to catch one of the poisonous +serpents in the neighbouring island and keep it ready for the Queen. +</p> +<p> +Since Cleopatra had ascertained that no poison caused a less painful death +than the fangs of the asp, she had resolved that the bite of one of these +reptiles should release her from the burden of life. The clever Ethiopian +had thought of inducing her friend Pyrrhus to procure the adder, but it +had required all Aisopion’s skill in persuasion, and the touching manner +in which she understood how to describe the Queen’s terrible situation and +severe suffering, to conquer the reluctance of the upright man. At last +she succeeded in persuading him to measure a queen by a different standard +from a woman of the people, and inducing him to arrange the manner and +time of conveying the serpent into the well-guarded palace. A signal was +to inform him when the decisive hour arrived. After that he was to be +ready with the asp in the fish-market every day. Probably his service +would soon be claimed; for Octavianus’s delay was scarcely an indication +of a favourable decision of Cleopatra’s fate. +</p> +<p> +True, she was permitted to live in royal state at Lochias, and had even +been allowed to have the children, the twins, and little Alexander sent +back to her with the promise that life and liberty would be granted them; +but Cæsarion—whose treacherous tutor Rhodon lured him from the +journey southward back to Alexandria by all sorts of representations, +among them the return of Barine—was held prisoner in his father’s +temple, where he had sought refuge. This news, and the fact that +Octavianus had condemned to death the youth who bore so striking a +resemblance to Cæsar, had not remained concealed from the unhappy mother. +She was also informed of the words in which the philosopher Arius had +encouraged Cæsar’s desire to rid himself of the son of his famous uncle. +They referred to the Homeric saying concerning the disadvantage of having +many rulers. +</p> +<p> +Everything which Cleopatra desired to know concerning events in the city +reached her ears; for she was allowed much liberty—only she was closely +watched day and night, and all the servants and officials to whom she +granted an audience were carefully searched to keep from her all means of +self-destruction. +</p> +<p> +True, it was very evident that she had closed her account with life. Her +attempt to take no food and die of starvation must have been noticed. +Threats directed against the children, through whom she could be most +easily influenced, finally induced her to eat again. Octavianus was +informed of all these things, and his conduct proved his anxiety to keep +her from suicide. +</p> +<p> +Several Asiatic princes vied with each other in the desire to honour Mark +Antony by a magnificent funeral, but Octavianus had allowed Cleopatra to +provide the most superb obsequies. In the time of her deepest anguish it +afforded her comfort and satisfaction to arrange everything herself, and +even perform some offices with her own hands. The funeral had been as +gorgeous as the dead man’s love of splendour could have desired. +</p> +<p> +Iras and Charmian were often unable to understand how the Queen—who, +since Antony’s death, had suffered not only from the wounds she had +inflicted upon herself in her despair, but also after her baffled attempt +at starvation from a slow fever—had succeeded in resisting the +severe exertions and mental agitation to which she had been subjected by +Antony’s funeral. +</p> +<p> +The return of Archibius with the children, however, had visibly reanimated +her flagging energy. +</p> +<p> +She often went to Didymus’s garden, which was now connected with the +palace at Lochias, to watch their work and share whatever interested their +young hearts. +</p> +<p> +But the gayest of mothers, who had understood how to enter so thoroughly +into her children’s pursuits, had now become a sorrowful, grave monitor. +Though the lessons she urged upon them were often beautiful and wise, they +were little suited to the ages of Archibius’s pupils, for they usually +referred to death and to questions of philosophy not easily understood by +children. +</p> +<p> +She herself felt that she no longer struck the right key; but whenever she +tried to change it and jest with them as usual, she could endure the +forced gaiety only a short time; a painful revulsion, frequently +accompanied by tears, followed, and she was obliged to leave her darlings. +</p> +<p> +The life her foe granted her seemed like an intrusive gift, an oppressive +debt, which we desire to pay a troublesome creditor as soon as possible. +</p> +<p> +She seemed calmer and apparently content only when permitted to talk with +the companions of her youth concerning bygone days, or with them and Iras +of death, and how it would be possible to put an end to an unwelcome +existence. +</p> +<p> +After such conversations Iras and Charmian left her with bleeding hearts. +They had long since resolved to share the fate of their royal mistress, +whatever it might be. Their common suffering was the bond which again +united them in affection. Iras had provided poisoned pins which had +speedily destroyed the animals upon which they had been tried. Cleopatra +knew of their existence, but she herself preferred the painless death +bestowed by the serpent’s bite, and it was long since her friends had seen +the eyes of their beloved sovereign sparkle so brightly as when Charmian +told her that away had been found to obtain the uræus serpent as soon as +it was needed. But it was not yet imperative to adopt the last expedient. +Octavianus wished to be considered lenient, and perhaps might still be +prevailed upon to grant the Queen and her children a future meet for their +royal birth. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra’s reply was an incredulous smile, yet a faint hope which saved +her from despair began to bud in her soul. +</p> +<p> +Dolabella, an aristocratic Roman, a scion of the noble Cornelius family, +was in the Cæsar’s train, and had been presented to the Egyptian Queen. +In former years his father was a friend of Cleopatra; nay, she had placed +him under obligations by sending him, after the murder of Julius Cæsar, +the military force at her command to be used against Cassius. True, her +legions, by messengers from Dolabella himself, were despatched in another +direction; but Cleopatra had not withdrawn her favour from Dolabella’s +father on that account. The latter had known her in Rome before the death +of Cæsar, and had enthusiastically described the charms of the bewitching +Egyptian sovereign. Though the youth found her only a mourning widow, ill +in body and mind, he was so strongly attracted and deeply moved by her +beauty, her brilliant intellect, her grace of bearing, her misfortunes and +sufferings, that he devoted many hours to her, and would have considered +it a happiness to render her greater services than circumstances +permitted. He often accompanied her to the children, whose hearts had been +completely won by his frank, cheerful nature; and so it happened that he +soon became one of the most welcome guests at Lochias. He confided without +reserve every feeling that stirred his soul to the warm-hearted woman who +was so many years his senior, and through him she learned many things +connected with Octavianus and his surroundings. Without permitting himself +to be used as a tool, he became an advocate for the unfortunate woman whom +he so deeply esteemed. +</p> +<p> +In intercourse with her he made every effort to inspire confidence in +Octavianus, who favoured him, enjoyed his society, and in whose +magnanimity the youth firmly believed. +</p> +<p> +He anticipated the best results from an interview between the Queen and +the Cæsar; for he deemed it impossible that the successful conqueror +could part untouched, and with no desire to mitigate her sad fate, from +the woman who, in earlier years, had so fascinated his father, and whom he +himself, though she might almost have been his mother, deemed peerless in +her bewitching and gracious charm. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra, on the contrary, shrank from meeting the man who had brought so +much misfortune upon Mark Antony and herself, and inflicted upon her +insults which were only too well calculated to make her doubt his clemency +and truth. On the other hand, she could not deny Dolabella’s assertion +that it would be far less easy for Octavianus to refuse her in person the +wishes she cherished for her children’s future than through mediators. +Proculejus had learned that Antony had named him to the Queen as the +person most worthy of her confidence, and more keenly felt the wrong +which, as the tool and obedient friend of Octavianus, he had inflicted +upon the hapless woman. The memory of his unworthy deed, which history +would chronicle, had robbed the sensitive man, the author and patron of +budding Roman poetry, of many an hour’s sleep, and therefore he also now +laboured zealously to oblige the Queen and mitigate her hard fate. He, +like the freedman Epaphroditus, who by Cæsar’s orders watched carefully +to prevent any attempt upon her life, seemed to base great hopes on such +an interview, and endeavoured to persuade her to request an audience from +the Cæsar. +</p> +<p> +Archibius said that, even in the worst case, it could not render the +present state of affairs darker. Experience, he said to Charmian, proved +that no man of any feeling could wholly resist the charm of her nature, +and to him at least she had never seemed more winning than now. Who could +have gazed unmoved into the beautiful face, so eloquent in its silent +suffering, whose soul would not have been deeply touched by the sorrowful +tones of her sweet voice? Besides, her sable mourning robes were so well +suited to the slight tinge of melancholy which pervaded her whole aspect. +When the fever flushed her cheeks, Archibius, spite of the ravages which +grief, anxiety, and fear had made upon her charms, thought that he had +never seen her look more beautiful. He knew her thoroughly, and was aware +that her desire to follow the man she loved into the realm of death was +sincere; nay, that it dominated her whole being. She clung to life only to +die as soon as possible. The decision which, after her resolve to build +the monument, she had recognized in the temple of Berenike as the right +one, had become the rule of conduct of her life. Every thought, every +conversation, led her back to the past. The future seemed to exist no +longer. If Archibius succeeded in directing her thoughts to approaching +days she occupied herself wholly with her children’s fate. For herself she +expected nothing, felt absolved from every duty except the one of +protecting herself and her name from dishonour and humiliation. +</p> +<p> +The fact that Octavianus, when he doomed Cæsarion to death, permitted the +other children to return to her with the assurance that no harm should +befall them, proved that he made a distinction between them and his +uncle’s son, and had no fears that they threatened his own safety. She +might expect important results in their favour from an interview with +Octavianus, so she at last authorized Proculejus to request an audience. +</p> +<p> +The Imperator’s answer came the very same day. It was his place to seek +her—so ran the Cæsar’s message. This meeting must decide her fate. +Cleopatra was aware of this, and begged Charmian to remember the asp. +</p> +<p> +Her attendants had been forbidden to leave Lochias, but Epaphroditus +permitted them to receive visitors. The Nubian’s merry, amusing talk had +made friends for her among the Roman guards, who allowed her to pass in +and out unmolested. On her return, of course, she was searched with the +utmost care, like every one who entered Lochias. +</p> +<p> +The decisive hour was close at hand. Charmian knew what she must do in any +event, but there was still one desire for whose fulfilment she longed. She +wished to greet Barine and see her boy. +</p> +<p> +To spare Iras, she had hitherto refrained from sending for Dion’s wife. +The sight of the mother and child might have reopened wounds still +unhealed, and she would not inflict this sorrow upon her niece, who for a +long time had once more been loyally devoted to her. +</p> +<p> +Octavianus did not hasten to fulfil his assurance. But, at the end of a +week, Proculejus brought the news that he could promise a visit from the +Cæsar that afternoon. The Queen was deeply agitated, and desired before +the interview to pay a visit to her tomb. Iras offered to accompany her, +and as Cleopatra intended to remain an hour or longer, Charmian thought it +a favourable opportunity to see Barine and her boy. +</p> +<p> +Dion’s wife had been informed of her friend’s wish, and Anukis, who was to +take her to Lochias, did not wait long for the mother and child. +</p> +<p> +Didymus’s garden—now the property of the royal children—was +the scene of the meeting. In the shade of the familiar trees the young +mother sank upon the breast of her faithful friend, and Charmian could not +gaze her fill at the boy, or weary of tracing in his features a +resemblance to his grandfather Leonax. +</p> +<p> +How much these two women, to whom Fate had allotted lives so widely +different, found to tell each other! The older felt transported to the +past, the younger seemed to have naught save a present rich in blessing +and a future green with hope. She had good news to tell of her sister +also. Helena had long been the happy wife of Gorgias who, however, spite +of the love with which he surrounded the young mistress of his house, +numbered among his most blissful hours those which were devoted to +overseeing the progress of the work on the mausoleum, where he met +Cleopatra. +</p> +<p> +Time flew swiftly to the two women, and it was a painful surprise when one +of the eunuchs on guard announced that the Queen had returned. Again +Charmian embraced her lover’s grandson, blessed him and the young mother, +sent messages of remembrance to Dion, begged Barine to think of her +affectionately when she had passed from earth and, if her heart prompted +her to the act, to anoint or adorn with a ribbon or flower the tombstone +of the woman who had no friend to render her such a service. +</p> +<p> +Deeply moved by the firmness with which Charmian witnessed the approach of +death, Barine listened in silence, but suddenly started as the sharp tones +of a well-known voice called her friend’s name and, as she turned, Iras +stood before her. Pallid and emaciated, she looked in her long, floating +black robes the very incarnation of misery. +</p> +<p> +The sight pierced the heart of the happy wife and mother. She felt as if +much of the joy which Iras lacked had fallen to her own lot, and all the +grief and woe she had ever endured had been transferred to her foe. She +would fain have approached humbly and said something very kind and +friendly; but when she saw the tall, haggard woman gazing at her child, +and noticed the disagreeable expression which had formerly induced her to +compare her to a sharp thorn, a terrible dread of this woman’s evil eye +which might harm her boy seized the mother’s heart and, overwhelmed by an +impulse beyond control, she covered his face with her own veil. +</p> +<p> +Iras saw it, and after Barine had answered her question, “Dion’s child?” +in the affirmative, with a glance beseeching forbearance, the girl drew up +her slender figure, saying with arrogant coldness “What do I care for the +child? We have more important matters on our hearts.” +</p> +<p> +Then she turned to Charmian to inform her, in the tone of an official +announcement, that during the approaching interview the Queen desired her +attendance also. +</p> +<p> +Octavianus had appointed sunset for the interview, and it still lacked +several hours of the time. The suffering Queen felt wearied by her visit +to the mausoleum, where she had implored the spirit of Antony, if he had +any power over the conqueror’s heart, to induce him to release her from +this torturing uncertainty and promise the children a happy fate. +</p> +<p> +To Dolabella, who had accompanied her from the tomb to the palace, she +said that she expected only one thing from this meeting, and then won from +him a promise which strengthened her courage and seemed the most precious +boon which could be granted at this time. +</p> +<p> +She had expressed the fear that Octavianus would still leave her in doubt. +The youth spoke vehemently in Cæsar’s defence, and closed with the +exclamation, “If he should still keep you in suspense, he would be not +only cool and circumspect——” +</p> +<p> +“Then,” Cleopatra interrupted, “be nobler, be less cruel, and release your +father’s friend from these tortures. If he does not reveal to me what +awaits me and you learn it, then—you will not say no, you cannot +refuse me—then you, yes, you will inform me?” +</p> +<p> +Promptly and firmly came the reply: “What have I been able to do for you +until now? But I will release you from <i>this</i> torture, if possible.” Then he +hastily turned his back, that he might not be compelled to see the eunuchs +stationed at the palace gate search the garments of the royal captive. +</p> +<p> +His promise sustained the failing courage of the wearied, anxious Queen, +and she reclined upon the cushions of a lounge to recover from the +exhausting expedition; but she had scarcely closed her eyes when the +pavement of the court-yard rang under the hoofs of the four horses which +bore the Cæsar to Lochias. Cleopatra had not expected the visit so early. +</p> +<p> +She had just been consulting with her attendants about the best mode of +receiving him. At first she had been disposed to do so on the throne, clad +in her royal attire, but she afterwards thought that she was too ill and +weak to bear the heavy ornaments. Besides, the man and successful +conqueror would show himself more indulgent and gracious to the suffering +woman than to the princess. +</p> +<p> +There was much to palliate the course which she had pursued in former +days, and she had carefully planned the defence by which she hoped to +influence his calm but not unjust nature. Many things in her favour were +contained in the letters from Cæsar and Antony which, after her husband’s +death, she had read again and again during so many wakeful nights, and +they had just been brought to her. +</p> +<p> +Both Archibius and the Roman Proculejus had counselled her not to receive +him entirely alone. The latter did not express his opinion in words, but +he knew that Octavianus was more readily induced to noble and lenient +deeds when there was no lack of witnesses to report them to the world. It +was advisable to provide spectators for the most consummate actor of his +day. +</p> +<p> +Therefore the Queen had retained Iras, Charmian, and some of the officials +nearest to her person, among them the steward Seleukus, who could give +information if any question arose concerning the delivery of the treasure. +</p> +<p> +She had also intended, after she had somewhat recovered from the visit to +the tomb, to be robed in fresh garments. This was prevented by the +Cæsar’s unexpected arrival. Now, even had time permitted, she would have +been unable to have her hair arranged, she felt so weak and yet so +feverishly excited. +</p> +<p> +The blood coursed hotly through her veins and flushed her cheeks. When +told that the Cæsar was close at hand, she had only time to raise herself +a little higher on her cushions, push back her hair, and let Iras, with a +few hasty touches, adjust the folds of her mourning robes. Had she +attempted to advance to meet him, her limbs would have failed to support +her. +</p> +<p> +When the Cæsar at last entered, she could greet him only by a wave of her +hand; but Octavianus, who had uttered the usual salutations from the +threshold, quickly broke the painful silence, saying with a courteous bow: +</p> +<p> +“You summoned me—I came. Every one is subject to beauty—even +the victor.” +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra’s head drooped in shame as she answered distinctly, yet in a +tone of modest denial: +</p> +<p> +“I only asked the favour of an audience. I did not <i>summon</i>. I thank +you for granting the request. If it is dangerous for man to bow to +woman’s charms, no peril threatens you here. Beauty cannot withstand +tortures such as those which have been imposed on me—barely can +life remain. But you prevented my casting it from me. If you are just, +you will grant to the woman whom you would not permit to die an existence +whose burden will not exceed her power to endure.” +</p> +<p> +The Cæsar again bowed silently and answered courteously: +</p> +<p> +“I intend to make it worthy of you.” +</p> +<p> +“Then,” cried Cleopatra impetuously, “release me from this torturing +uncertainty. You are not one of the men who never look beyond to-day and +to-morrow.” +</p> +<p> +“You are thinking,” said Octavianus harshly, “of one who perhaps would +still be among us, if with wiser caution——” +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra’s eyes, which hitherto had met the victor’s cold gaze with +modest entreaty, flashed angrily, and a majestic: “Let the past rest!” +interrupted him. +</p> +<p> +But she soon mastered the indignation which had stirred her passionate +blood, and in a totally different tone, not wholly free from gentle +persuasion, she continued: +</p> +<p> +“The provident intellect of the man whose nod the universe obeys grasps +the future as well as the present. Must not he, therefore, have decided +the children’s fate ere he consented to see their mother? The only +obstacle in your path, the son of your great uncle——” +</p> +<p> +“His doom was a necessity,” interrupted the conqueror in a tone of sincere +regret. “As I mourned Antony, I grieve for the unfortunate boy.” +</p> +<p> +“If that is true,” replied Cleopatra eagerly, “it does honour to the +kindness of your heart. When Proculejus wrested the dagger from my grasp +he blamed me because I attributed to the most clement of conquerors +harshness and implacability.” +</p> +<p> +“Two qualities,” the Cæsar protested, “which are wholly alien to my +nature.” +</p> +<p> +“And which—even if you possessed them—you neither could nor +ought to use,” cried Cleopatra, “if you really mean the beautiful words +you so often utter that, as the nephew and heir of the great Julius +Cæsar, you intend to walk in his footsteps. Cæsarion—there is his +bust—was the image in every feature of his father, your illustrious +model. To me, the hapless woman now awaiting my sentence from his nephew’s +lips, the gods granted, as the most precious of all gifts, the love of +your divine uncle. And what love! The world knew not what I was to his +great heart, but my wish to defend myself from misconception bids me show +it to you, his heir. From you I expect my sentence. You are the judge. +These letters are my strongest defence. I rely upon them to show myself to +you as I was and am, not as envy and slander describe me.—The little +ivory casket, Iras! It contains the precious proofs of Cæsar’s love, his +letters to me.” +</p> +<p> +She raised the lid with trembling hands and, as these mementoes carried +her back to the past, she continued in lower tones: +</p> +<p> +“Among all my treasures this simple little coffer has been for half a +lifetime my most valued jewel. He gave it to me. It was in the midst of +the fierce contest here at the Bruchium.” +</p> +<p> +Then, while unfolding the first roll, she directed Octavianus’s attention +to it and the remainder of the contents of the little casket, exclaiming: +</p> +<p> +“Silent pages, yet how eloquent! Each one a peerless picture, the powerful +thinker, the man of action, who permits his restless intellect to repose, +and suffers his heart to overflow with the love of youth! Were I vain, +Octavianus, I might call each one of these letters a trophy of victory, an +Olympic garland. The woman to whom Julius Cæsar owned his subjugation +might well hold her head higher than the unhappy, vanquished Queen who, +save the permission to die——” +</p> +<p> +“Do not part with the letters,” said Octavianus kindly. “Who can doubt +that they are a precious treasure——” +</p> +<p> +“The most precious and at the same time the advocate of the accused,” +replied Cleopatra eagerly; “on them—as you have already heard—rests +my vindication. I will commence with their contents. How terrible it is to +make what is sacred to us and intended only to elevate our own hearts +serve a purpose, to do what has always been repugnant to us! But I need an +advocate and, Octavianus, these letters will restore to the wretched, +suffering beggar the dignity and majesty of the Queen. The world knows but +two powers to which Julius Cæsar bowed—the thrall of the pitiable +woman on this couch, and of all-conquering death. An unpleasant fellowship—but +I do not shrink from it; for death robbed him of life, and from my hand—— I +ask only a brief moment. How gladly I would spare myself my own praises, +and you the necessity of listening to them! Yes, here it is: ‘Through you, +you irresistible woman,’ he writes, ‘I learned for the first time, after +youth was over, how beautiful life can be.’ ” +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra, as she spoke, handed Cæsar the letter. But while she was still +searching hastily for another he returned the first, saying: +</p> +<p> +“I understand only too well your reluctance to allow such confidential +effusions to play the part of defender. I can imagine their purport, and +they shall influence me as if I had read them all. However eloquent they +may be, they are needless witnesses. Is any written testimony required in +behalf of charms whose magic is still potent?” +</p> +<p> +A bewitching smile, which seemed like a confirmation of the haughty young +conqueror’s flattering words, flitted over Cleopatra’s face. +</p> +<p> +Octavianus noticed it. This woman indeed possessed enthralling charms, +and he felt the slight flush that suffused his cheeks. +</p> +<p> +This unhappy captive, this suffering supplicant, could still draw into her +net any man who did not possess the cool watchfulness which panoplied his +soul. Was it the marvellous melody of her voice, the changeful lustre of +her tearful eyes, the aristocratic grace of the noble figure, the +exquisite symmetry of the hands and feet, the weakness of the prostrate +sufferer, strangely blended with truly royal majesty, or the thought that +love for her had found earth’s greatest and loftiest men with indissoluble +fetters, which lent this fragile woman, who had long since passed the +boundaries of youth, so powerful a spell of attraction? +</p> +<p> +At any rate, however certain of himself he might be, he must guard his +feelings. He understood how to bridle passion far better than the uncle +who was so greatly his superior. +</p> +<p> +Yet it was of the utmost importance to keep her alive, and therefore to +maintain her belief in his admiration. He wished to show the world and the +Great Queen of the East, who had just boasted of conquering, like death, +even the most mighty, its own supremacy as man and victor. But he must +also be gentle, in order not to endanger the object for which he wanted +her. She must accompany him to Rome. She and her children promised to +render his triumph the most brilliant and memorable one which any +conqueror had ever displayed to the senate and the people. In a light tone +which, however, revealed the emotion of his soul, he answered: “My +illustrious uncle was known as a friend of fair women. His stern life was +crowned with flowers by many hands, and he acknowledged these favours +verbally and perhaps—as he did to you in all these letters—with +the reed. His genius was greater, at any rate more many-sided and mobile, +than mine. He succeeded, too, in pursuing different objects at the same +time with equal devotion. I am wholly absorbed in the cares of state, of +government, and war. I feel grateful when I can permit our poets to adorn +my leisure for a brief space. Overburdened with toil, I have no time to +yield myself captive, as my uncle did in these very rooms, to the most +charming of women. If I could follow my own will, you would be the first +from whom I would seek the gifts of Eros.—But it may not be! We Romans +learn to curb even the most ardent wishes when duty and morality command. +There is no city in the world where half so many gods are worshipped as +here; and what strange deities are numbered among them! It needs a special +effort of the intellect to understand them. But the simple duties of the +domestic hearth!—they are too prosaic for you Alexandrians, who +imbibe philosophy with your mothers’ milk. What marvel, if I looked for +them in vain? True, they would find little satisfaction—our +household gods I mean—here, where the rigid demands of Hymen are +mute before the ardent pleadings of Eros. Marriage is scarcely reckoned +among the sacred things of life. But this opinion seems to displease you.” +</p> +<p> +“Because it is false,” cried Cleopatra, repressing with difficulty a fresh +outburst of indignation. “Yet, if I see aright, your reproach is aimed +only at the bond which united me to the man who was called your sister’s +husband. But I will—— I would gladly remain silent, but you force me to +speak, and I will do so, though your own friend, Proculejus, is signing to +me to be cautious. I—I, Cleopatra, was the wife of Mark Antony +according to the customs of this country, when you wedded him to the widow +of Marcellus, who had scarcely closed his eyes. Not she, but I, was the +deserted wife—I to whom his heart belonged until the hour of his +death, not the wedded——” Here her voice fell. She had +yielded to the passionate impulse which urged her to express her feelings +in the matter, and now continued in a tone of gentle explanation: “I know +that you proposed this alliance solely for the peace and welfare of Rome——” +</p> +<p> +“To guard both, and to spare the blood of tens of thousands,” Octavianus +added with proud decision. “Your clear brain perceived the true state of +affairs. If, spite of the grave importance of these motives, you—— But +what voices would not that of the heart silence with you women! The man, +the Roman, succeeded in closing his ears to its siren song. Were it +otherwise, I would never have chosen for my sister a husband by whom I +knew her happiness would be so ill-guarded—I would, as I have +already said, be unable to master my own admiration of the loveliest of +women. But I ought scarcely to boast of that. I fear that a heart like +yours opens less quickly to the modest Octavianus than to a Julius Cæsar +or the brilliant Mark Antony. Yet I may be permitted to confess that +perhaps I might have avoided conducting this unhappy war against my friend +to the end under my own guidance, and appearing myself in Egypt, had I not +been urged by the longing to see once more the woman who had dazzled my +boyish eyes. Now, in my mature manhood, I desired to comprehend those +marvellous gifts of mind, that matchless sagacity——” +</p> +<p> +“Sagacity!” interrupted the Queen, shrugging her shoulders mournfully. +“You possess a far greater share of what is commonly called by that name. +My fate proves it. The pliant intellect which the gods bestowed on me +would ill sustain the test in this hour of anguish. But if you really care +to learn what mental power Cleopatra once possessed, relieve me of this +terrible burden of uncertainty, and grant me a position in life which will +permit my paralyzed soul to move freely once more.” +</p> +<p> +“It depends solely on yourself,” Octavian eagerly responded, “to make your +future life, not only free from care, but beautiful.” +</p> +<p> +“On me?” asked Cleopatra in astonishment. “Our weal and woe are in your +hands alone. I am modest and ask nothing save to know what you intend for +our future, what you mean by the lot which you term beautiful.” +</p> +<p> +“Nothing less,” replied the Cæsar quietly, “than what seems to lie +nearest to your own heart—a life of that freedom of soul to which +you aspire.” +</p> +<p> +The breath of the agitated Queen began to come more quickly and, no longer +able to control the impatience which overpowered her, she exclaimed, “With +the assurance of your favour on your lips, you refuse to discuss the +question which interests, me beyond any other—for which, if any you +must have been prepared when you came here——” +</p> +<p> +“Reproaches?” asked Octavianus with we feigned surprise. “Would it not +rather be my place to complain? It is precisely because I am thoroughly +sincere in the friendly disposition which you read aright from my words, +that some of your measures cannot fail to wound me. Your treasures were to +be committed to the flames. It would be unfair to expect tokens of +friendship from the vanquished; but can you deny that even the bitterest +hatred could scarcely succeed in devising anything more hostile?” +</p> +<p> +“Let the past rest! Who would not seek in war to diminish the enemy’s +booty?” pleaded the Queen in a soothing tone. But as Octavianus delayed +his answer, she continued more eagerly: “It is said that the ibex in the +mountains, when in mortal peril, rushes upon the hunter and hurls him with +it down the precipice. The same impulse is natural to human beings, and +praiseworthy, I think, in both. Forget the past, as I will try to do, I +repeat with uplifted hands. Say that you will permit the sons whom I gave +to Antony to ascend the Egyptian throne, not under their mother’s +guardianship, but that of Rome, and grant me freedom wherever I may live, +and I will gladly transfer to you, down to the veriest trifles, all the +property and treasures I possess.” +</p> +<p> +She clenched her little hand impatiently under the folds of her robe as +she spoke; but Octavianus lowered his eyes, saying carelessly: “In war the +victor disposes of the property of the vanquished; but my heart restrains +me from applying the universal law to you, who are so far above ordinary +mortals. Your wealth is said to be vast, though the foolish war which +Antony, with your aid, so greatly prolonged, devoured vast sums. In this +country squandered gold seems like the grass which, when mowed, springs up +anew.” +</p> +<p> +“You speak,” replied Cleopatra, more and more deeply incensed, with proud +composure, “of the treasures which my ancestors, the powerful monarchs of +a wealthy country, amassed during three hundred years for their noble race +and for the adornment of the women of their line. Parsimony did not accord +with the generosity and lofty nature of an Antony, yet avarice itself +would not deem the portion still remaining insignificant. Every article is +registered.” +</p> +<p> +While speaking, she took a manuscript from the hand of Seleukus and passed +it to Octavianus who, with a slight bend of the head, received it in +silence. But he had scarcely begun to read it when the steward, a little +corpulent man with twinkling eyes half buried in his fat cheeks, raised +his short forefinger, pointed insolently at the Queen, and asserted that +she was trying to conceal some things, and had ordered him not to place +them on the list. Every tinge of colour faded from the lips and cheeks of +the agitated and passionate woman; tortured by feverish impatience and no +longer able to control her emotions, she raised herself and, with her own +dainty hand, struck the accuser—whom she had lifted from poverty and +obscurity to his present high position—again and again in the face, +till Octavianus, with a smile of superiority, begged her, much as the man +deserved his punishment, to desist. +</p> +<p> +The unfortunate woman, thus thrown off her guard, flung herself back on +her couch and, panting for breath, with tears streaming from her eyes, +sobbed aloud, declaring that in the presence of such unendurable insult, +such contemptible baseness, she fairly loathed herself. Then pressing her +clenched hands upon her temples, she exclaimed: “Before the eyes of the foe +my royal dignity, which I have maintained all my life, falls from me like +a borrowed mantle. Yet what am I? What shall I be to-morrow, what later? +But who beneath the sun who has warm blood in his veins can preserve his +composure when juicy grapes are held before his thirsting lips to be +withdrawn, as from Tantalus, ere he can taste them? You came hither with +the assurance of your favour; but the flattering words of promise which +you bestowed upon the unhappy woman were probably only the drops of +poppy-juice given to soothe the ravings of fever. Was the favour which you +permitted me to see and anticipate for the future merely intended to +delude a miserable——” +</p> +<p> +But she went no further; Octavianus, with dignified bearing and loud, +clear tones, interrupted “Whoever believes the heir of Cæsar capable of +shamefully deceiving a noble woman, a queen, the object of his illustrious +uncle’s love, insults and wounds him; but the just anger which +overmastered you may serve as your apology. Ay,” he added in a totally +different tone, “I might even have cause to be grateful for this +indignation, and to wish for another opportunity to witness the outbreak +of passion though in its unbridled fierceness—the royal lioness is +scarcely aware of her own beauty when the tempest of wrath sweeps her +away. What must she be when it is love that constrains the flame of her +glowing soul to burst into a blaze?” +</p> +<p> +“Her glowing soul!” Cleopatra eagerly repeated, and the desire awoke to +subjugate this man who had so confidently boasted of his power of +resistance. Though he might be stronger than many others, he certainly was +not invincible. And aware of her still unbroken sway over the hearts of +men, her eyes sparkled with the alluring radiance of love, and a +bewitching smile brightened her face. +</p> +<p> +The young Imperator’s heart began to chafe under the curb and to beat more +quickly, his cheeks flushed and paled by turns. How she gazed at him! What +if she loved the nephew as she had once loved the uncle who, through her, +had learned what bliss life can offer? Ay, it must be happiness to kiss +those lips, to be clasped in those exquisite arms, to hear one’s own name +tenderly spoken by those musical tones. Even the magnificent marble statue +of Ariadne, which he had seen in Athens, had not displayed to his gaze +lines more beautiful than those of the woman reclining on yonder pillows. +Who could venture to speak in her presence of vanished charms? Ah, no! The +spell which had conquered Julius Cæsar was as vivid, as potent as ever. +He himself felt its power; he was young, and after such unremitting +exertions he too yearned to quaff the nectar of the noblest joys, to steep +body and soul in peerless bliss. +</p> +<p> +So, with a hasty movement, he took one step towards her couch, resolved to +grasp her hands and raise them to his lips. His ardent gaze answered hers; +but surprised by the power which, though so heavily burdened with physical +and mental suffering, she still possessed over the strongest and coldest +of men, she perceived what was passing in his soul, and a smile of +triumph, blended with the most bitter contempt, hovered around her +beautiful lips. Should she dupe him into granting her wishes by feigning +love for the first time? Should she yield to the man who had insulted her, +in order to induce him to accord the children their rights? Should she, to +gratify her lover’s foe, relinquish the sacred grief which was drawing her +after him, give posterity and her children the right to call her, instead +of the most loyal of the loyal, a dishonoured woman, who sold herself for +power? +</p> +<p> +To all these questions came a prompt denial. The single stride which +Octavianus had made towards her, his eyes aflame with love, gave her the +right to feel that she had vanquished the victor, and the proud delight of +triumph was too plainly reflected in her mobile features to escape the +penetrating, distrustful gaze of the subjugated Cæsar. But he had +scarcely perceived what threatened him, and remembered her words +concerning his famous uncle’s surrender only to her and to death, +when he succeeded in conquering his quickly kindled senses. Blushing at +his own weakness, he averted his eyes from the Queen, and when he met +those of Proculejus and the other witnesses of the scene, he realized the +abyss on whose verge he stood. He had half succumbed to the danger of +losing, by a moment’s weakness, the fruit of great sacrifices and severe +exertions. +</p> +<p> +His expressive eyes, which had just rested rapturously upon a beautiful +woman, now scanned the spectators with the stern glance of a monarch and, +apparently wishing to moderate an excess of flattering recognition which +might be misinterpreted, he said in an almost pedagogical tone: +</p> +<p> +“Yet we would rather see the noble lioness in the majestic repose which +best suits all sovereigns. It is difficult for a calm, deliberate nature +like mine to understand an ardent, quickly kindling heart.” +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra had watched this sudden transition with more surprise than +disappointment. Octavianus had half surrendered to her, but recovered his +self-command in time, and a man of his temperament does not readily +succumb twice to a danger which he barely escaped. And this was well! He +should learn that he had misunderstood the glance which fired his heart; +so she answered distantly, with majestic dignity: +</p> +<p> +“Misery such as mine quenches all ardour. And love? Woman’s heart is ever +open to it, save where it has lost the desire for power and pleasure. You +are young and happy, therefore your soul still yearns for love—I +know that—though not for mine. To me, on the contrary, one suitor +only is welcome, he with the lowered torch, whom you keep aloof from me. +With him alone is to be found the boon for which this soul has longed from +childhood—painless peace! You smile. My past gives you the right to +do so. I will not lessen it. Each individual lives his or her own life. +Few understand the changes of their own existence, far less those of a +stranger’s. The world has witnessed how Peace fled from my path, or I from +hers, and yet I see the possibility of finding the way. I am safe from the +only things which would debar me from those joys—humiliation and +disgrace.” Here she hesitated; then, as if in explanation, continued in +the sweetest tones at her command: “Your generosity, I think, will guard +from these two foes the woman whom just now—I did not fail to see it—you +considered worthy of a more than gracious glance. I shall treasure it +among memories which will never fade. But now, illustrious Imperator! tell +me, what is your decision concerning me and the children? What may we hope +from your favour?” +</p> +<p> +“That Octavianus will be more and more warmly animated by the desire to +accord you and yours a worthy destiny, the more firmly you expect that he +will attest his generosity.” +</p> +<p> +“And if I fulfil this desire and expect from you everything that is great +and noble—the condition is not difficult—what proofs of your +graciousness will then await us?” +</p> +<p> +“Paint them with all the fervour of that vivid power of imagination which +interpreted even my glance in your favour, and devised the marvels by +which you rendered the greatest and most brilliant man in Rome the +happiest of mortals. But—by Zeus!—it is the fourth hour after +noonday!” +</p> +<p> +A glance from the window had caused the exclamation. Then, pressing his +hand upon his heart, he continued in a tone of the most sincere regret: +“How gladly I would prolong this fascinating conversation, but important +matters which, unfortunately, cannot be deferred, summon me——” +</p> +<p> +“And your answer?” cried Cleopatra, panting for breath and gazing at him +with eyes full of expectation. +</p> +<p> +“Must I repeat it?” he asked with impatient haste. “Very well, then. In +return for implicit confidence on your part, favour, forgiveness, +cordiality, every consideration which you can justly desire. Your heart is +so rich in warmth of feeling, grant me but a small share of it and ask +tangible gifts in return. They are already bestowed.” Then greeting her +like a friend who is reluctant to say farewell, he hastily left the +apartment. +</p> +<p> +“Gone—gone!” cried Iras as the door closed behind him. “An eel that +slips from the hand which strives to hold him.” +</p> +<p> +“Northern ice,” added Cleopatra gloomily as Charmian aided her to find a +more comfortable position. “As smooth as it is cold; there is nothing more +to hope.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, my royal mistress, yes,” Iras eagerly protested. “Dolabella is +waiting for him in the Philadelphus court-yard. From him—you have +his promise—we shall learn what Octavianus has in store for you.” +</p> +<p> +In truth, the Cæsar did find the youth at the first gate of the palace, +inspecting his superb Cyrenean horses. +</p> +<p> +“Magnificent animals!” cried Octavianus; “a gift from the city! Will you +drive with me?—A remarkable, a very remarkable woman!” +</p> +<p> +“Isn’t she?” asked Dolabella eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“Undoubtedly,” replied the Cæsar. “But though she might almost be your +mother, an uncommonly dangerous one for youths of your age. What a melting +voice, what versatility, what fervour! And yet such regal grace in every +movement! But I wish to stifle, not to fan, the spark which perhaps has +already fallen into your heart. And the play, the farce which she just +enacted before me in the midst of most serious matters!” +</p> +<p> +He uttered a low, short laugh; but Dolabella exclaimed expectantly: “You +rarely laugh, but this conversation—apparently—excites your +mirth. So the result was satisfactory?” +</p> +<p> +“Let us hope so. I was as gracious to her as possible.” +</p> +<p> +“That is delightful. May I know in what manner your kindness and wisdom +have shaped her future? Or, rather, what did you promise the vanquished +Queen?” +</p> +<p> +“My favour, if she will trust me.” +</p> +<p> +“Proculejus and I will continue to strengthen her confidence. And if we +succeed——?” +</p> +<p> +“Then, as I have said, she will have my favour—a generous abundance +of favour.” +</p> +<p> +“But her future destiny? What fate will you bestow on her and her +children?” +</p> +<p> +“Whatever the degree of her confidence deserves.” +</p> +<p> +Here he hesitated, for he met Dolabella’s earnest, troubled gaze, which +was blended with a shade of reproach. +</p> +<p> +Octavianus desired to retain the enthusiastic admiration of the youth, who +perhaps was destined to lofty achievements, so he continued in a +confidential tone: “To you, my young friend, I can venture to speak more +frankly. I will gladly grant the most aspiring wishes of this fascinating +and, I repeat, very remarkable woman, but first I need her for my triumph. +The Romans would have cause to reproach me if I deprived them of the sight +of this Queen, this peerless woman, in many respects the first of her +time. We shall soon set out for Syria. The Queen and her children I shall +send in three days to Rome. If, in the triumphal procession there, she +creates the sensation I anticipate from a spectacle so worthy of +admiration, she shall learn how I reward those who oblige me.” +</p> +<p> +Dolabella had listened in silence. When the Cæsar entered the carriage, +he requested permission to remain behind. +</p> +<p> +Octavianus drove alone eastward to the camp where, in the vicinity of the +Hippodrome, men were surveying the ground on which the suburb of Nikopolis—city +of victory—was to be built to commemorate for future generations the +victory of the first Emperor over Antony and Cleopatra. It grew, but never +attained any great importance. +</p> +<p> +The noble Cornelius gazed indignantly after his sovereign’s fiery steeds; +then, drawing up his stately figure to its full height, he entered the +palace with a firm step. The act might cost him his life, but he would do +what he believed to be his duty to the noble woman who had honoured him +with her friendship. This rare sovereign was too good to feast the eyes of +the rabble. +</p> +<p> +A few minutes later Cleopatra knew her impending ignominy. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch25"> +<br/><br/><br/> +CHAPTER XXV. +</h3> + +<p> +The next morning the Queen had many whispered conversations with Charmian, +and the latter with Anukis. The day before, Archibius’s gardener had +brought to his master’s sister some unusually fine figs, which grew in the +old garden of Epicurus. This fruit was also mentioned, and Anukis went to +Kanopus, and thence, in the steward’s carriage, with a basket of the very +best ones to the fish-market. There she had a great deal to say to +Pyrrhus, and the freedman went to his boat with the figs. +</p> +<p> +Shortly after the Nubian’s return the Queen came back to the palace from +the mausoleum. Her features bore an impress of resolution usually alien to +them; nay, the firmly compressed lips gave them an expression of actual +sternness. She knew what duty required, and regarded her approaching end +as an inevitable necessity. Death seemed to her like a journey which she +must take in order to escape the most terrible disgrace. Besides, life +after the death of Antony was no longer the same; it had been only a +tiresome delay and waiting for the children’s sake. +</p> +<p> +The visit to the tomb had been intended, as it were, to announce her +coming to her husband. She had remained a long time in the silent hall, +where she had garlanded the coffin with flowers, kissed it, talked to the +dead man as if he were still alive, and told him that the day had come +when what he had mentioned in his will as the warmest desire of his heart—to +rest beside her in the same tomb—would be fulfilled. Among the +thousand forms of suffering which had assailed her, nothing had seemed so +hard to bear as to be deprived of his society and love. +</p> +<p> +Then she had gone into the garden, embraced and kissed the children, and +entreated them to remember her tenderly. Her purpose had not been +concealed from Archibius, but Charmian had told him the menace of the +future, and he approved her decision. By the exertion of all his innate +strength of will, he succeeded in concealing the grief which rent his +faithful heart. She must die. The thought of seeing her adorn the +triumphal procession of Octavianus was unbearable to him also. Her thanks +and entreaties to be an affectionate guardian to the children were +received with an external calmness which afterwards seemed to him utterly +incomprehensible. +</p> +<p> +When she spoke of her approaching meeting with her lover, he asked whether +she had entirely abandoned the teachings of Epicurus, who believed that +death absolutely ended existence. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra eagerly assented, saying: “Absence of pain has ceased to appear +to me the chief earthly blessing, since I have known that love does not +bring pleasure only, since I have learned that pain is the inseparable +companion of love. I will not give it up, nor will I part from my lover. +Whoever experiences what fate has allotted to me has learned to know other +gods than those whom the master described as dwelling happily in +undisturbed repose. Rather eternal torture in another world, united to the +man I love, than painless, joyless mere existence in a desolate, +incomprehensible, unknown region! You will be the last to teach the +children to yearn for freedom from pain——?” +</p> +<p> +“Because, like you,” cried Archibius, “I have learned how great a blessing +is love, and that love is pain.” +</p> +<p> +As he spoke he bent over her hand to kiss it, but she took his temples +between her hands and, bending hastily, pressed her lips on his broad +brow. +</p> +<p> +Then his self-control vanished, and, sobbing aloud, he hurried back to the +children. +</p> +<p> +Cleopatra gazed after him with a sorrowful smile, and leaning on +Charmian’s arm, she entered the palace. +</p> +<p> +There she was bathed and, robed in costly mourning garments, reclined +among her cushions to take breakfast, which was usually served at this +hour. +</p> +<p> +Iras and Charmian shared it. +</p> +<p> +When dessert was carried in, the Nubian brought a basket filled with +delicious figs. A peasant, she told Epaphroditus, who was watching the +meal, had given them to her because they were so remarkably fine. Some had +already been snatched by the guards. +</p> +<p> +The Queen and her companions ate a little of the fruit, and Proculejus, +who had come to greet Cleopatra, was also persuaded to taste one of the +finest figs. +</p> +<p> +At the end of the meal Cleopatra wished to rest. +</p> +<p> +The Roman gentlemen and the guards retired. +</p> +<p> +At last the women were alone, and gazed at each other silently. +</p> +<p> +Charmian timidly lifted the upper layer of the fruit, but the Queen said +mournfully: +</p> +<p> +“The wife of Antony dragged through the streets of Rome behind the +victor’s chariot, a spectacle for the populace and envious matrons!” Then, +starting up, she exclaimed: “What a thought! Was it too great for +Octavianus, or too petty? He who so loudly boasts his knowledge of mankind +expects this impossibility from the woman who revealed her inmost soul to +him as fully as he concealed his from her. We will show him how small is +his comprehension of human nature, and teach him modesty.” +</p> +<p> +A contemptuous smile flitted over her beautiful lips as, with rapid +movements, she flung handful after handful of figs on the table, till she +saw some thing stirring under the fruit, and with a sigh of relief +exclaimed under her breath: +</p> +<p> +“There it is!” as with hasty resolution she held out her arm towards the +asp, which hissed at her. +</p> +<p> +While gazing intently at the movements of the viper, which seemed afraid +to fulfil the dread office, she said to her attendants: +</p> +<p> +“I thank you—thank you for everything. Be calm. You know, Iras, it will +cause no pain. They say it is like falling asleep.” Then she shuddered +slightly, adding: “Death is a solemn thing; yet it must be. Why does the +serpent delay? There—there; I will keep firm. Ambition and love were the +moving forces of my life. Men shall praise my memory.—I follow you, +Mark Antony!” +</p> +<p> +Charmian bent over the left arm of her royal mistress, which hung +loosely at her side, and, weeping aloud, covered it with kisses, +while Cleopatra, watching the motions of the asp still more closely, +added: +</p> +<p> +“The peace of our garden of Epicurus will begin to-day. Whether it will be +painless, who can tell? Yet—there I agree with Archibius—life’s +greatest joy—love—is blended with pain, as yonder branch of +exquisite roses from Dolabella, the last gift of friendship, has its sharp +thorns. I think you have both experienced this. The twins and my little +darling—— When they think of their mother and her end, will not the +children——” +</p> +<p> +Here she uttered a low cry. The asp had struck its fangs into the upper +part of her arm like an icy flash of lightning, and a few instants later +Cleopatra sank back upon her pillows lifeless. +</p> +<p> +Iras, pale but calm, pointed to her, saying “Like a sleeping child. +Bewitching even in death. Fate itself was constrained to do her will and +fulfil the last desire of the great Queen, the victorious woman, whom no +heart resisted. Its decree shatters the presumptuous plan of Octavianus. +The victor will show himself to the Romans without thee, thou dear one.” +</p> +<p> +Sobbing violently, she bent over the inanimate form, closed the eyes, and +kissed the lips and brow. The weeping Charmian did the same. +</p> +<p> +Then the footsteps of men were heard in the anteroom, and Iras, who was +the first to notice them, cried eagerly: +</p> +<p> +“The moment is approaching! I am glad it is close at hand. Does it not +seem to you also as if the very sun in the heavens was darkened?” +</p> +<p> +Charmian nodded assent, and whispered, “The poison?” +</p> +<p> +“Here!” replied Iras calmly, holding out a plain pin. “One little prick, +and the deed will be done. Look! But no. You once inflicted the deepest +suffering upon me. You know—Dion, the playmate of my childhood—— It +is forgiven. But now—you will do me a kindness. You will spare my +using the pin myself. Will you not? I will repay you. If you wish, my hand +shall render you the same service.” +</p> +<p> +Charmian clasped her niece to her heart, kissed her, pricked her arm +lightly, and gave her the other pin, saying: +</p> +<p> +“Now it is your turn. Our hearts were filled with love for one who +understood how to bestow it as none other ever did, and our love was +returned. What matters all else that we sacrificed? Those on whom the sun +shines need no other light. Love is pain,” she said in dying, “but this +pain—especially that of renunciation for love’s sake—bears +with it a joy, an exquisite joy, which renders death easy. To me it seems +as if it were merely following the Queen to—— Oh, that hurt!” +</p> +<p> +Iras’s pin had pricked her. +</p> +<p> +The poison did its work quickly. Iras was seized with giddiness, and could +scarcely stand. Charmian had just sunk on her knees, when some one knocked +loudly at the closed door, and the voices of Epaphroditus and Proculejus +imperiously demanded admittance. +</p> +<p> +When no answer followed, the lock was hastily burst open. +</p> +<p> +Charmian was found lying pale and distorted at the feet of her royal +mistress; but Iras, tottering and half stupefied by the poison, was +adjusting the diadem, which had slipped from its place. To keep from her +beloved Queen everything that could detract from her beauty had been her +last care. +</p> +<p> +Enraged, fairly frantic with wrath, the Romans rushed towards the women. +Epaphroditus had seen Iras still occupied in arranging Cleopatra’s +ornaments. Now he endeavoured to raise her companion, saying +reproachfully, “Charmian, was this well done?” Summoning her last +strength, she answered in a faltering voice, “Perfectly well, and worthy a +descendant of Egyptian kings.” Her eyes closed, but Proculejus, the +author, who had gazed long with deep emotion into the beautiful proud face +of the Queen whom he had so greatly wronged, said: “No other woman on +earth was ever so admired by the greatest, so loved by the loftiest. Her +fame echoed from nation to nation throughout the world. It will continue +to resound from generation to generation; but however loudly men may extol +the bewitching charm, the fervour of the love which survived death, her +intellect, her knowledge, the heroic courage with which she preferred the +tomb to ignominy—the praise of these two must not be forgotten. +Their fidelity deserves it. By their marvellous end they unconsciously +erected the most beautiful monument to their mistress; for what genuine +goodness and lovableness must have been possessed by the woman who, after +the greatest reverses, made it seem more desirable to those nearest to her +person to die than to live without her!”* +</p> +<div class="footnote"><p> +* The Roman’s exclamation and the answer of the loyal dying Charmian +are taken literally from Plutarch’s narrative. +</p></div> +<p> +The news of the death of their beloved, admired sovereign transformed +Alexandria into a house of mourning. Obsequies of unprecedented +magnificence and solemnity, at which many tears of sincere grief flowed, +honoured her memory. One of Octavianus’s most brilliant plans was +frustrated by her death, and he had raved furiously when he read the +letter in which Cleopatra, with her own hand, informed him of her +intention to die. But he owed it to his reputation for generosity to grant +her a funeral worthy of her rank. To the dead, who had ceased to be +dangerous, he was ready to show an excess of magnanimity. +</p> +<p> +The treatment which he accorded to Cleopatra’s children also won the +world’s admiration. His sister Octavia received them into her own house +and intrusted their education to Archibius. +</p> +<p> +When the order to destroy the statues of Antony and Cleopatra was issued, +Octavianus gave his contemporaries another proof of his disposition to be +lenient, for he ordered that the numerous statues of the Queen in +Alexandria and Egypt should be preserved. True, he had been influenced by +the large sum of two thousand talents paid by an Alexandrian to secure +this act of generosity. Archibius was the name of the rare friend who had +impoverished himself to render this service to the memory of the beloved +dead. +</p> +<p> +In later times the statues of the unfortunate Queen adorned the places +where they had been erected. +</p> +<p> +The sarcophagi of Cleopatra and Mark Antony, by whose side rested Iras and +Charmian, were constantly heaped with flowers and offerings to the dead. +The women of Alexandria, especially, went to the tomb of their beloved +Queen as if it were a pilgrimage; but in after-days faithful mourners also +came from a distance to visit it, among them the children of the famous +lovers whom death here united—Cleopatra Selene, now the wife of the +learned Numidian Prince Juba, Helios Antony, and Alexander, who had +reached manhood. Their friend and teacher, Archibius, accompanied them. He +taught them to hold their mother’s memory dear, and had so reared them +that, in their maturity, he could lead them with head erect to the +sarcophagus of the friend who had confided them to his charge. +</p> +<p class="end"> +[The End] +</p> +</div> + + +<hr/> +<p> +<br/><br/> +</p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cleopatra, Complete, by Georg Ebers + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CLEOPATRA, COMPLETE *** + +***** This file should be named 5482-h.htm or 5482-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/8/5482/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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