"What! No one to come to meet me?" asked the queen, as she reached the
foot of the last flight of porphyry steps that led into the ante-chamber
to the banqueting-hall, and, looking round, with an ominous glance, at
the chamberlains who had accompanied her, she clinched her small fist. "I
arrive and find no one here!"

The "No one" certainly was a figure of speech, since more than a hundred
body-guards-Macedonians in rich array of arms-and an equal number of
distinguished court-officials were standing on the marble flags of the
vast hall, which was surrounded by colonnades, while the star-spangled
night-sky was all its roof; and the court-attendants were all men of
rank, dignified by the titles of fathers, brothers, relatives, friends
and chief-friends of the king.

These all received the queen with a many-voiced "Hail!" but not one of
them seemed worthy of Cleopatra's notice. This crowd was less to her than
the air we breathe in order to live--a mere obnoxious vapor, a whirl of
dust which the traveller would gladly avoid, but which he must
nevertheless encounter in order to proceed on his way.

The queen had expected that the few guests, invited by her selection and
that of her brother Euergetes to the evening's feast, would have welcomed
her here at the steps; she thought they would have seen her--as she felt
herself--like a goddess borne aloft in her shell, and that she might have
exulted in the admiring astonishment of the Roman and of Lysias, the
Corinthian: and now the most critical instant in the part she meant to
play that evening had proved a failure, and it suggested itself to her
mind that she might be borne back to her roof-tent, and be floated down
once more when she was sure of the presence of the company. But there was
one thing she dreaded more even than pain and remorse, and that was any
appearance of the ridiculous; so she only commanded the bearers to stand
still, and while the master of the ceremonies, waiving his dignity,
hurried off to announce to her husband that she was approaching, she
signed to the nobles highest in rank to approach, that she might address
a few gracious words to them, with distant amiability. Only a few
however, for the doors of thyia wood leading into the banqueting hall
itself, presently opened, and the king with his friends came forward to
meet Cleopatra.

"How were we to expect you so early?" cried Philometor to his wife.

"Is it really still early?" asked the queen, "or have I only taken you by
surprise, because you had forgotten to expect me?"

"How unjust you are!" replied the king. "Must you now be told that, come
as early as you will, you always come too late for my desires."

"But for ours," cried Lysias, "neither too early nor too late, but at the
very right time--like returning health and happiness, or the victor's
crown."

"Health as taking the place of sickness?" asked Cleopatra, and her eyes
sparkled keenly and merrily. "I perfectly understand Lysias," said
Publius, intercepting the Greek. "Once, on the field of Mars, I was flung
from my horse, and had to lie for weeks on my couch, and I know that
there is no more delightful sensation than that of feeling our departed
strength returning as we recover. He means to say that in your presence
we must feel exceptionally well."

"Nay rather," interrupted Lysias, "our queen seems to come to us like
returning health, since so long as she was not in our midst we felt
suffering and sick for longing. Thy presence, Cleopatra, is the most
effectual remedy, and restores us to our lost health."

Cleopatra politely lowered her fan, as if in thanks, thus rapidly turning
the stick of it in her hand, so as to make the diamonds that were set in
it sparkle and flash. Then she turned to the friends, and said:

"Your words are most amiable, and your different ways of expressing your
meaning remind me of two gems set in a jewel, one of which sparkles
because it is skilfully cut, and reflects every light from its mirrorlike
facets, while the other shines by its genuine and intrinsic fire. The
genuine and the true are one, and the Egyptians have but one word for
both, and your kind speech, my Scipio--but I may surely venture to call
you Publius--your kind speech, my Publius seems to me to be truer than
that of your accomplished friend, which is better adapted to vainer ears
than mine. Pray, give me your hand."

The shell in which she was sitting was gently lowered, and, supported by
Publius and her husband, the queen alighted and entered the
banqueting-hall, accompanied by her guests.

As soon as the curtains were closed, and when Cleopatra had exchanged a
few whispered words with her husband, she turned again to the Roman, who
had just been joined by Eulaeus, and said:

"You have come from Athens, Publius, but you do not seem to have followed
very closely the courses of logic there, else how could it be that you,
who regard health as the highest good--that you, who declared that you
never felt so well as in my presence--should have quitted me so promptly
after the procession, and in spite of our appointment? May I be allowed
to ask what business--"

"Our noble friend," answered Eulaeus, bowing low, but not allowing the
queen to finish her speech, "would seem to have found some particular
charm in the bearded recluses of Serapis, and to be seeking among them
the key-stone of his studies at Athens."

"In that he is very right," said the queen. "For from them he can learn
to direct his attention to that third division of our existence,
concerning which least is taught in Athens--I mean the future--"

"That is in the hands of the gods," replied the Roman. "It will come soon
enough, and I did not discuss it with the anchorite. Eulaeus may be
informed that, on the contrary, everything I learned from that singular
man in the Serapeum bore reference to the things of the past."

"But how can it be possible," said Eulaeus, "that any one to whom
Cleopatra had offered her society should think so long of anything else
than the beautiful present?"

"You indeed have good reason," retorted Publius quickly, "to enter the
lists in behalf of the present, and never willingly to recall the past."

"It was full of anxiety and care," replied Eulaeus with perfect
self-possession. "That my sovereign lady must know from her illustrious
mother, and from her own experience; and she will also protect me from
the undeserved hatred with which certain powerful enemies seem minded to
pursue me. Permit me, your majesty, not to make my appearance at the
banquet until later. This noble gentleman kept me waiting for hours in
the Serapeum, and the proposals concerning the new building in the temple
of Isis at Philae must be drawn up and engrossed to-day, in order that
they may be brought to-morrow before your royal husband in council and
your illustrious brother Euergetes--"

"You have leave, interrupted Cleopatra."

As soon as Eulaeus had disappeared, the queen went closer up to Publius,
and said:

"You are annoyed with this man--well, he is not pleasant, but at any rate
he is useful and worthy. May I ask whether you only feel his personality
repugnant to you, or whether actual circumstances have given rise to your
aversion--nay, if I have judged rightly, to a very bitterly hostile
feeling against him?"

"Both," replied Publius. "In this unmanly man, from the very first, I
expected to find nothing good, and I now know that, if I erred at all, it
was in his favor. To-morrow I will ask you to spare me an hour when I can
communicate to your majesty something concerning him, but which is too
repulsive and sad to be suitable for telling in an evening devoted to
enjoyment. You need not be inquisitive, for they are matters that belong
to the past, and which concern neither you nor me."

The high-steward and the cup-bearer here interrupted this conversation by
calling them to table, and the royal pair were soon reclining with their
guests at the festal board.

Oriental splendor and Greek elegance were combined in the decorations of
the saloon of moderate size, in which Ptolemy Philometor was wont to
prefer to hold high-festival with a few chosen friends. Like the great
reception-hall and the men's hall-with its twenty doors and lofty
porphyry columns--in which the king's guests assembled, it was lighted
from above, since it was only at the sides that the walls--which had no
windows--and a row of graceful alabaster columns with Corinthian
acanthus-capitals supported a narrow roof; the centre of the hall was
quite uncovered. At this hour, when it was blazing with hundreds of
lights, the large opening, which by day admitted the bright sunshine, was
closed over by a gold net-work, decorated with stars and a crescent moon
of rock-crystal, and the meshes were close enough to exclude the bats and
moths which at night always fly to the light. But the illumination of the
king's banqueting-hall made it almost as light as day, consisting of
numerous lamps with many branches held up by lovely little figures of
children in bronze and marble. Every joint was plainly visible in the
mosaic of the pavement, which represented the reception of Heracles into
Olympus, the feast of the gods, and the astonishment of the amazed hero
at the splendor of the celestial banquet; and hundreds of torches were
reflected in the walls of polished yellow marble, brought from Hippo
Regius; these were inlaid by skilled artists with costly stones, such as
lapis lazuli and malachite, crystals, blood-stone, jasper, agates and
chalcedony, to represent fruit-pieces and magnificent groups of game or
of musical instruments; while the pilasters were decorated with masks of
the tragic and comic Muses, torches, thyrsi wreathed with ivy and vine,
and pan-pipes. These were wrought in silver and gold, and set with costly
marbles, and they stood out from the marble background like metal work on
a leather shield, or the rich ornamentation on a sword-sheath. The
figures of a Dionysiac procession, forming the frieze, looked down upon
the feasters--a fine relievo that had been designed and modelled for
Ptolemy Soter by the sculptor Bryaxis, and then executed in ivory and
gold.

Everything that met the eye in this hall was splendid, costly, and above
all of a genial aspect, even before Cleopatra had come to the throne; and
she--here as in her own apartments--had added the busts of the greatest
Greek philosophers and poets, from Thales of Miletus down to Strato, who
raised chance to fill the throne of God, and from Hesiod to Callimachus;
she too had placed the tragic mask side by side with the comic, for at
her table--she was wont to say--she desired to see no one who could not
enjoy grave and wise discourse more than eating, drinking, and laughter.

Instead of assisting at the banquet, as other ladies used, seated on a
chair or at the foot of her husband's couch, she reclined on a couch of
her own, behind which stood busts of Sappho the poetess, and Aspasia the
friend of Pericles.

Though she made no pretensions to be regarded as a philosopher nor even
as a poetess, she asserted her right to be considered a finished
connoisseur in the arts of poetry and music; and if she preferred
reclining to sitting how should she have done otherwise, since she was
fully aware how well it became her to extend herself in a picturesque
attitude on her cushions, and to support her head on her arm as it rested
on the back of her couch; for that arm, though not strictly speaking
beautiful, always displayed the finest specimens of Alexandrian
workmanship in gem-cutting and goldsmiths' work.

But, in fact, she selected a reclining posture particularly for the sake
of showing her feet; not a woman in Egypt or Greece had a smaller or more
finely formed foot than she. For this reason her sandals were so made
that when she stood or walked they protected only the soles of her feet,
and her slender white toes with the roseate nails and their polished
white half-moons were left uncovered.

At the banquet she put off her shoes altogether, as the men did; hiding
her feet at first however, and not displaying them till she thought the
marks left on her tender skin by the straps of the sandals had completely
disappeared.

Eulaeus was the greatest admirer of these feet; not, as he averred, on
account of their beauty, but because the play of the queen's toes showed
him exactly what was passing in her mind, when he was quite unable to
detect what was agitating her soul in the expression of her mouth and
eyes, well practised in the arts of dissimulation.

Nine couches, arranged three and three in a horseshoe, invited the guests
to repose, with their arms of ebony and cushions of dull olive-green
brocade, on which a delicate pattern of gold and silver seemed just to
have been breathed.

The queen, shrugging her shoulders, and, as it would seem, by no means
agreeably surprised at something, whispered to the chamberlain, who then
indicated to each guest the place he was to occupy. To the right of the
central group reclined the queen, and her husband took his place to the
left; the couch between the royal pair, destined for their brother
Euergetes, remained unoccupied.

On one of the three couches which formed the right-hand angle with those
of the royal family, Publius found a place next to Cleopatra; opposite to
him, and next the king, was Lysias the Corinthian. Two places next to him
remained vacant, while on the side by the Roman reclined the brave and
prudent Hierax, the friend of Ptolemy Euergetes and his most faithful
follower.

While the servants strewed the couches with rose leaves, sprinkled
perfumed waters, and placed by the couch of each guest a small table-made
of silver and of a slab of fine, reddish-brown porphyry, veined with
white-the king addressed a pleasant greeting to each guest, apologizing
for the smallness of the number.

"Eulaeus," he said, "has been forced to leave us on business, and our
royal brother is still sitting over his books with Aristarchus, who came
with him from Alexandria; but he promised certainly to come."

"The fewer we are," replied Lysias, bowing low, "the more honorable is
the distinction of belonging to so limited a number of your majesty's
most select associates."

"I certainly think we have chosen the best from among the good," said the
queen. "But even the small number of friends I had invited must have
seemed too large to my brother Euergetes, for he--who is accustomed to
command in other folks' houses as he does in his own--forbid the
chamberlain to invite our learned friends--among whom Agatharchides, my
brothers' and my own most worthy tutor, is known to you--as well as our
Jewish friends who were present yesterday at our table, and whom I had
set down on my list. I am very well satisfied however, for I like the
number of the Muses; and perhaps he desired to do you, Publius,
particular honor, since we are assembled here in the Roman fashion. It is
in your honor, and not in his, that we have no music this evening; you
said that you did not particularly like it at a banquet. Euergetes
himself plays the harp admirably. However, it is well that he is late in
coming as usual, for the day after tomorrow is his birthday, and he is to
spend it here with us and not in Alexandria; the priestly delegates
assembled in the Bruchion are to come from thence to Memphis to wish him
joy, and we must endeavor to get up some brilliant festival. You have no
love for Eulaeus, Publius, but he is extremely skilled in such matters,
and I hope he will presently return to give us his advice."

"For the morning we will have a grand procession," cried the king.
"Euergetes delights in a splendid spectacle, and I should be glad to show
him how much pleasure his visit has given us."

The king's fine features wore a most winning expression as he spoke these
words with heart-felt warmth, but his consort said thoughtfully: "Aye! if
only we were in Alexandria--but here, among all the Egyptian people--"




CHAPTER IX.

A loud laugh re-echoing from the marble walls of the state-room
interrupted the queen's speech; at first she started, but then smiled
with pleasure as she recognized her brother Euergetes, who, pushing aside
the chamberlains, approached the company with an elderly Greek, who
walked by his side.

"By all the dwellers on Olympus! By the whole rabble of gods and beasts
that live in the temples by the Nile!" cried the new-comer, again
laughing so heartily that not only his fat cheeks but his whole immensely
stout young frame swayed and shook. "By your pretty little feet,
Cleopatra, which could so easily be hidden, and yet are always to be
seen--by all your gentle virtues, Philometor, I believe you are trying to
outdo the great Philadelphus or our Syrian uncle Antiochus, and to get up
a most unique procession; and in my honor! Just so! I myself will take a
part in the wonderful affair, and my sturdy person shall represent Eros
with his quiver and bow. Some Ethiopian dame must play the part of my
mother Aphrodite; she will look the part to perfection, rising from the
white sea-foam with her black skin. And what do you think of a Pallas
with short woolly hair; of the Charities with broad, flat Ethiopian feet;
and an Egyptian, with his shaven head mirroring the sun, as Phoebus
Apollo?"

With these words the young giant of twenty years threw himself on the
vacant couch between his brother and sister, and, after bowing, not
without dignity, to the Roman, whom his brother named to him, he called
one of the young Macedonians of noble birth who served at the feast as
cup-bearers, had his cup filled once and again and yet a third time,
drinking it off quickly and without setting it down; then he said in a
loud tone, while he pushed his hands through his tossed, light brown
hair, till it stood straight up in the air from his broad temples and
high brow:

"I must make up for what you have had before I came.--Another cup-full
Diocleides."

"Wild boy!" said Cleopatra, holding up her finger at him half in jest and
half in grave warning. "How strange you look!"

"Like Silenus without the goat's hoofs," answered Euergetes. "Hand me a
mirror here, Diocleides; follow the eyes of her majesty the queen, and
you will be sure to find one. There is the thing! And in fact the picture
it shows me does not displease me. I see there a head on which besides
the two crowns of Egypt a third might well find room, and in which there
is so much brains that they might suffice to fill the skulls of four
kings to the brim. I see two vulture's eyes which are always keen of
sight even when their owner is drunk, and that are in danger of no peril
save from the flesh of these jolly cheeks, which, if they continue to
increase so fast, must presently exclude the light, as the growth of the
wood encloses a piece of money stuck into a rift in a tree-or as a
shutter, when it is pushed to, closes up a window. With these hands and
arms the fellow I see in the mirror there could, at need, choke a
hippopotamus; the chain that is to deck this neck must be twice as long
as that worn by a well-fed Egyptian priest. In this mirror I see a man,
who is moulded out of a sturdy clay, baked out of more unctuous and solid
stuff than other folks; and if the fine creature there on the bright
surface wears a transparent robe, what have you to say against it,
Cleopatra? The Ptolemaic princes must protect the import trade of
Alexandria, that fact was patent even to the great son of Lagus; and what
would become of our commerce with Cos if I did not purchase the finest
bombyx stuffs, since those who sell it make no profits out of you, the
queen--and you cover yourself, like a vestal virgin, in garments of
tapestry. Give me a wreath for my head--aye and another to that, and new
wine in the cup! To the glory of Rome and to your health, Publius
Cornelius Scipio, and to our last critical conjecture, my Aristarchus--to
subtle thinking and deep drinking!"

"To deep thinking and subtle drinking!" retorted the person thus
addressed, while he raised the cup, looked into the wine with his
twinkling eyes and lifted it slowly to his nose--a long, well-formed and
slightly aquiline nose--and to his thin lips.

"Oh! Aristarchus," exclaimed Euergetes, and he frowned. "You please me
better when you clear up the meaning of your poets and historians than
when you criticise the drinking-maxims of a king. Subtle drinking is mere
sipping, and sipping I leave to the bitterns and other birds that live
content among the reeds. Do you understand me? Among reeds, I
say--whether cut for writing, or no."

"By subtle drinking," replied the great critic with perfect indifference,
as he pushed the thin, gray hair from his high brow with his slender
hand. "By subtle drinking I mean the drinking of choice wine, and did you
ever taste anything more delicate than this juice of the vines of
Anthylla that your illustrious brother has set before us? Your
paradoxical axiom commends you at once as a powerful thinker and as the
benevolent giver of the best of drinks."

"Happily turned," exclaimed Cleopatra, clapping her hands, "you here see,
Publius, a proof of the promptness of an Alexandrian tongue."

"Yes!" said Euergetes, "if men could go forth to battle with words
instead of spears the masters of the Museum in Alexander's city, with
Aristarchus at their head, they might rout the united armies of Rome and
Carthage in a couple of hours."

"But we are not now in the battle-field but at a peaceful meal," said the
king, with suave amiability. "You did in fact overhear our secret
Euergetes, and mocked at my faithful Egyptians, in whose place I would
gladly set fair Greeks if only Alexandria still belonged to me instead of
to you.--However, a splendid procession shall not be wanting at your
birthday festival."

"And do you really still take pleasure in these eternal goose-step
performances?" asked Euergetes, stretching himself out on his couch, and
folding his hands to support the back of his head. "Sooner could I
accustom myself to the delicate drinking of Aristarchus than sit for
hours watching these empty pageants. On two conditions only can I declare
myself ready and willing to remain quiet, and patiently to dawdle through
almost half a day, like an ape in a cage: First, if it will give our
Roman friend Publius Cornelius Scipio any pleasure to witness such a
performance--though, since our uncle Antiochus pillaged our wealth, and
since we brothers shared Egypt between us, our processions are not to be
even remotely compared to the triumphs of Roman victors--or, secondly, if
I am allowed to take an active part in the affair."

"On my account, Sire," replied Publius, "no procession need be arranged,
particularly not such a one as I should here be obliged to look on at."

"Well! I still enjoy such things," said Cleopatra's husband.
"Well-arranged groups, and the populace pleased and excited are a sight I
am never tired of."

"As for me," cried Cleopatra, "I often turn hot and cold, and the tears
even spring to my eyes, when the shouting is loudest. A great mass of men
all uniting in a common emotion always has a great effect. A drop, a
grain of sand, a block of stone are insignificant objects, but millions
of them together, forming the sea, the desert or the pyramids, constitute
a sublime whole. One man alone, shouting for joy, is like a madman
escaped from an asylum, but when thousands of men rejoice together it
must have a powerful effect on the coldest heart. How is it that you,
Publius Scipio, in whom a strong will seems to me to have found a
peculiarly happy development, can remain unmoved by a scene in which the
great collective will of a people finds its utterance?"

"Is there then any expression of will, think you," said the Roman, "in
this popular rejoicing? It is just in such circumstances that each man
becomes the involuntary mimic and duplicate of his neighbor; while I love
to make my own way, and to be independent of everything but the laws and
duties laid upon me by the state to which I belong."

"And I," said Euergetes, "from my childhood have always looked on at
processions from the very best places, and so it is that fortune punishes
me now with indifference to them and to everything of the kind; while the
poor miserable devil who can never catch sight of anything more than the
nose or the tip of a hair or the broad back of those who take part in
them, always longs for fresh pageants. As you hear, I need have no
consideration for Publius Scipio in this, willing as I should be to do
so. Now what would you say, Cleopatra, if I myself took a part in my
procession--I say mine, since it is to be in my honor; that really would
be for once something new and amusing."

"More new and amusing than creditable, I think," replied Cleopatra dryly.

"And yet even that ought to please you," laughed Euergetes. "Since,
besides being your brother, I am your rival, and we would sooner see our
rivals lower themselves than rise."

"Do not try to justify yourself by such words," interrupted the king
evasively, and with a tone of regret in his soft voice. "We love you
truly; we are ready to yield you your dominion side by side with ours,
and I beg you to avoid such speeches even in jest, so that bygones may be
bygones."

"And," added Cleopatra, "not to detract from your dignity as a king and
your fame as a sage by any such fool's pranks."

"Madam teacher, do you know then what I had in my mind? I would appear as
Alcibiades, followed by a train of flute-playing women, with Aristarchus
to play the part of Socrates. I have often been told that he and I
resemble each other--in many points, say the more sincere; in every
point, say the more polite of my friends."

At these words Publius measured with his eye the frame of the royal young
libertine, enveloped in transparent robes; and recalling to himself, as
he gazed, a glorious statue of that favorite of the Athenians, which he
had seen in the Ilissus, an ironical smile passed over his lips. It was
not unobserved by Euergetes and it offended him, for there was nothing he
liked better than to be compared to the nephew of Pericles; but he
suppressed his annoyance, for Publius Cornelius Scipio was the nearest
relative of the most influential men of Rome, and, though he himself
wielded royal power, Rome exercised over him the sovereign will of a
divinity.

Cleopatra noticed what was passing in her brother's mind, and in order to
interrupt his further speech and to divert his mind to fresh thoughts,
she said cheerfully:

"Let us then give up the procession, and think of some other mode of
celebrating your birthday. You, Lysias, must be experienced in such
matters, for Publius tells me that you were the leader in all the games
of Corinth. What can we devise to entertain Euergetes and ourselves?"

The Corinthian looked for a moment into his cup, moving it slowly about
on the marble slab of the little table at his side, between an oyster
pasty and a dish of fresh asparagus; and then he said, glancing round to
win the suffrages of the company:

"At the great procession which took place under Ptolemy
Philadelphus--Agatharchides gave me the description of it, written by the
eye-witness Kallixenus, to read only yesterday--all kinds of scenes from
the lives of the gods were represented before the people. Suppose we were
to remain in this magnificent palace, and to represent ourselves the
beautiful groups which the great artists of the past have produced in
painting or sculpture; but let us choose those only that are least
known."

"Splendid," cried Cleopatra in great excitement, who can be more like
Heracles than my mighty brother there--the very son of Alcmene, as
Lysippus has conceived and represented him? Let us then represent the
life of Heracles from grand models, and in every case assign to Euergetes
the part of the hero."

"Oh! I will undertake it," said the young king, feeling the mighty
muscles of his breast and arms, "and you may give me great credit for
assuming the part, for the demi-god who strangled the snakes was lacking
in the most important point, and it was not without due consideration
that Lysippus represented him with a small head on his mighty body; but I
shall not have to say anything."

"If I play Omphale will you sit at my feet?" asked Cleopatra.

"Who would not be willing to sit at those feet?" answered Euergetes. "Let
us at once make further choice among the abundance of subjects offered to
us, but, like Lysias, I would warn you against those that are too
well-known."

"There are no doubt things commonplace to the eye as well as to the ear,"
said Cleopatra. "But what is recognized as good is commonly regarded as
most beautiful."

"Permit me," said Lysias, "to direct your attention to a piece of
sculpture in marble of the noblest workmanship, which is both old and
beautiful, and yet which may be known to few among you. It exists on the
cistern of my father's house at Corinth, and was executed many centuries
since by a great artist of the Peloponnesus. Publius was delighted with
the work, and it is in fact beautiful beyond description. It is an
exquisite representation of the marriage of Heracles and Hebe--of the
hero, raised to divinity, with sempiternal youth. Will Your Majesty allow
yourself to be led by Pallas Athene and your mother Alcmene to your
nuptials with Hebe?"

"Why not?" said Euergetes. "Only the Hebe must be beautiful. But one
thing must be considered; how are we to get the cistern from your
father's house at Corinth to this place by to-morrow or next day? Such a
group cannot be posed from memory without the original to guide us; and
though the story runs that the statue of Serapis flew from Sinope to
Alexandria, and though there are magicians still at Memphis--"

"We shall not need them," interrupted Publius, "while I was staying as a
guest in the house of my friend's parents--which is altogether more
magnificent than the old castle of King Gyges at Sardis--I had some gems
engraved after this lovely group, as a wedding-present for my sister.
They are extremely successful, and I have them with me in my tent."

"Have you a sister?" asked the queen, leaning over towards the Roman.
"You must tell me all about her."

"She is a girl like all other girls," replied Publius, looking down at
the ground, for it was most repugnant to his feelings to speak of his
sister in the presence of Euergetes.

"And you are unjust like all other brothers," said Cleopatra smiling,
"and I must hear more about her, for"--and she whispered the words and
looked meaningly at Publius--"all that concerns you must interest me."

During this dialogue the royal brothers had addressed themselves to
Lysias with questions as to the marriage of Heracles and Hebe, and all
the company were attentive to the Greek as he went on: "This fine work
does not represent the marriage properly speaking, but the moment when
the bridegroom is led to the bride. The hero, with his club on his
shoulder, and wearing the lion's skin, is led by Pallas Athene, who, in
performing this office of peace, has dropped her spear and carries her
helmet in her hand; they are accompanied by his mother Alcmene, and are
advancing towards the bride's train. This is headed by no less a
personage than Apollo himself, singing the praises of Hymenaeus to a
lute. With him walks his sister Artemis and behind them the mother of
Hebe, accompanied by Hermes, the messenger of the gods, as the envoy of
Zeus. Then follows the principal group, which is one of the most lovely
works of Greek art that I am acquainted with. Hebe comes forward to meet
her bridegroom, gently led on by Aphrodite, the queen of love. Peitho,
the goddess of persuasion, lays her hand on the bride's arm,
imperceptibly urging her forward and turning away her face; for what she
had to say has been said, and she smiles to herself, for Hebe has not
turned a deaf ear to her voice, and he who has once listened to Peitho
must do what she desires."

"And Hebe?" asked Cleopatra.

"She casts down her eyes, but lifts up the arm on which the hand of
Peitho rests with a warning movement of her fingers, in which she holds
an unopened rose, as though she would say; 'Ah! let me be--I tremble at
the man'--or ask: 'Would it not be better that I should remain as I am
and not yield to your temptations and to Aphrodite's power?' Oh! Hebe is
exquisite, and you, O Queen! must represent her!"

"I!" exclaimed Cleopatra. "But you said her eyes were cast down."

"That is from modesty and timidity, and her gait must also be bashful and
maidenly. Her long robe falls to her feet in simple folds, while Peitho
holds hers up saucily, between her forefinger and thumb, as if stealthily
dancing with triumph over her recent victory. Indeed the figure of Peitho
would become you admirably."

"I think I will represent Peitho," said the queen interrupting the
Corinthian. "Hebe is but a bud, an unopened blossom, while I am a mother,
and I flatter myself I am something of a philosopher--"

"And can with justice assure yourself," interrupted Aristarchus, "that
with every charm of youth you also possess the characters attributed to
Peitho, the goddess, who can work her spells not only on the heart but on
the intellect also. The maiden bud is as sweet to look upon as the rose,
but he who loves not merely color but perfume too--I mean refreshment,
emotion and edification of spirit--must turn to the full-blown flower; as
the rose--growers of lake Moeris twine only the buds of their favorite
flower into wreaths and bunches, but cannot use them for extracting the
oil of imperishable fragrance; for that they need the expanded blossom.
Represent Peitho, my Queen! the goddess herself might be proud of such a
representative."

"And if she were so indeed," cried Cleopatra, "how happy am I to hear
such words from the lips of Aristarchus. It is settled--I play Peitho. My
companion Zoe may take the part of Artemis, and her grave sister that of
Pallas Athene. For the mother's part we have several matrons to choose
from; the eldest daughter of Epitropes appears to me fitted for the part
of Aphrodite; she is wonderfully lovely."

"Is she stupid too?" asked Euergetes. "That is also an attribute of the
ever-smiling Cypria."

"Enough so, I think, for our purpose," laughed Cleopatra. "But where are
we to find such a Hebe as you have described, Lysias? The daughter of
Alimes the Arabarch is a charming child."

"But she is brown, as brown as this excellent wine, and too thoroughly
Egyptian," said the high-steward, who superintended the young Macedonian
cup-bearers; he bowed deeply as he spoke, and modestly drew the queen's
attention to his own daughter, a maiden of sixteen. But Cleopatra
objected, that she was much taller than herself, and that she would have
to stand by the Hebe, and lay her hand on her arm.

Other maidens were rejected on various grounds, and Euergetes had already
proposed to send off a carrier-pigeon to Alexandria to command that some
fair Greek girl should be sent by an express quadriga to Memphis--where
the dark Egyptian gods and men flourish, and are more numerous than the
fair race of Greeks--when Lysias exclaimed:

"I saw to-day the very girl we want, a Hebe that might have stepped out
from the marble group at my father's, and have been endued with life and
warmth and color by some god. Young, modest, rose and white, and just
about as tall as Your Majesty. If you will allow me, I will not tell you
who she is, till after I have been to our tent to fetch the gems with the
copies of the marble."

"You will find them in an ivory casket at the bottom of my
clothes-chest," said Publius; "here is the key."

"Make haste," cried the queen, "for we are all curious to hear where in
Memphis you discovered your modest, rose and white Hebe."




CHAPTER X.

An hour had slipped by with the royal party, since Lysias had quitted the
company; the wine-cups had been filled and emptied many times; Eulaeus
had rejoined the feasters, and the conversation had taken quite another
turn, since the whole of the company were not now equally interested in
the same subject; on the contrary, the two kings were discussing with
Aristarchus the manuscripts of former poets and of the works of the
sages, scattered throughout Greece, and the ways and means of obtaining
them or of acquiring exact transcripts of them for the library of the
Museum. Hierax was telling Eulaeus of the last Dionysiac festival, and of
the representation of the newest comedy in Alexandria, and Eulaeus
assumed the appearance--not unsuccessfully--of listening with both ears,
interrupting him several times with intelligent questions, bearing
directly on what he had said, while in fact his attention was exclusively
directed to the queen, who had taken entire possession of the Roman
Publius, telling him in a low tone of her life--which was consuming her
strength--of her unsatisfied affections, and her enthusiasm for Rome and
for manly vigor. As she spoke her cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled,
for the more exclusively she kept the conversation in her own hands the
better she thought she was being entertained; and Publius, who was
nothing less than talkative, seldom interrupted her, only insinuating a
flattering word now and then when it seemed appropriate; for he
remembered the advice given him by the anchorite, and was desirous of
winning the good graces of Cleopatra.

In spite of his sharp ears Eulaeus could understand but little of their
whispered discourse, for King Euergetes' powerful voice sounded loud
above the rest of the conversation; but Eulaeus was able swiftly to
supply the links between the disjointed sentences, and to grasp the
general sense, at any rate, of what she was saying. The queen avoided
wine, but she had the power of intoxicating herself, so to speak, with
her own words, and now just as her brothers and Aristarchus were at the
height of their excited and eager question and answer--she raised her
cup, touched it with her lips and handed it to Publius, while at the same
time she took hold of his.

The young Roman knew well enough all the significance of this hasty
action; it was thus that in his own country a woman when in love was wont
to exchange her cup with her lover, or an apple already bitten by her
white teeth.

Publius was seized with a cold shudder--like a wanderer who carelessly