The royal pair were received by the company with acclamations and marks
of respect; Cleopatra smiled as sweetly as ever, and waved her fan
graciously as she descended from her litter; still she vouchsafed not the
slightest attention to any one present, for she was seeking Publius, at
first among those who were nearest to the couch prepared for her, and
then among the other Hellenes, the Egyptians, the Jews, the
ambassadors--still she found him not, and when at last she enquired for
the Roman of the chief chamberlain at her side, the official was sent for
who had charge of the foreign envoys. This was an officer of very high
rank, whose duty it was to provide for the representatives of foreign
powers, and he was now near at hand, for he had long been waiting for an
opportunity to offer to the queen a message of leave-taking from Publius
Cornelius Scipio, and to tell her from him, that he had retired to his
tent because a letter had come to him from Rome.

"Is that true?" asked the queen letting her feather fan droop, and
looking her interlocutor severely in the face.

"The trireme Proteus, coming from Brundisium, entered the harbor of
Eunostus only yesterday," he replied; "and an hour ago a mounted
messenger brought the letter. Nor was it an ordinary letter but a
despatch from the Senate--I know the form and seal."

"And Lysias, the Corinthian?"

"He accompanied the Roman."

"Has the Senate written to him too?" asked the queen annoyed, and
ironically. She turned her back on the officer without any kind of
courtesy, and turning again to the chamberlain she went on, in incisive
tones, as if she were presiding at a trial:

"King Euergetes sits there among the Egyptians near the envoys from the
temples of the Upper Country. He looks as if he were giving them a
discourse, and they hang on his lips. What is he saying, and what does
all this mean?"

"Before you came in, he was sitting with the Syrians and Jews, and
telling them what the merchants and scribes, whom he sent to the South,
have reported of the lands lying near the lakes through which the Nile is
said to flow. He thinks that new sources of wealth have revealed
themselves not far from the head of the sacred river which can hardly
flow in from the ocean, as the ancients supposed."

"And now?" asked Cleopatra. "What information is he giving to the
Egyptians?"

The chamberlain hastened towards Euergetes' couch, and soon returned to
the queen--who meanwhile had exchanged a few friendly words with Onias,
the Hebrew commander--and informed her in a low tone that the king was
interpreting a passage from the Timaeus of Plato, in which Solon
celebrates the lofty wisdom of the priests of Sais; he was speaking with
much spirit, and the Egyptians received it with loud applause.

Cleopatra's countenance darkened more and more, but she concealed it
behind her fan, signed to Philometor to approach, and whispered to him:

"Keep near Euergetes; he has a great deal too much to say to the
Egyptians. He is extremely anxious to stand well with them, and those
whom he really desires to please are completely entrapped by his
portentous amiability. He has spoiled my evening, and I shall leave you
to yourselves."

"Till to-morrow, then."

"I shall hear the Roman's complaint up on my roof-terrace; there is
always a fresh air up there. If you wish to be present I will send for
you, but first I would speak to him alone, for he has received letters
from the Senate which may contain something of importance. So, till
to-morrow."



ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

And what is great--and what is small
Behold, the puny Child of Man
Evolution and annihilation
Flattery is a key to the heart
Hold pleasure to be the highest good
Man is the measure of all things
Museum of Alexandria and the Library
One hand washes the other
Prefer deeds to words
What are we all but puny children?




THE SISTERS

By Georg Ebers

Volume 3.




CHAPTER XII.

While, in the vast peristyle, many a cup was still being emptied, and the
carousers were growing merrier and noisier--while Cleopatra was abusing
the maids and ladies who were undressing her for their clumsiness and
unreadiness, because every touch hurt her, and every pin taken out of her
dress pricked her--the Roman and his friend Lysias walked up and down in
their tent in violent agitation.

"Speak lower," said the Greek, "for the very griffins woven into the
tissue of these thin walls seem to me to be lying in wait, and listening.

"I certainly was not mistaken. When I came to fetch the gems I saw a
light gleaming in the doorway as I approached it; but the intruder must
have been warned, for just as I got up to the lantern in front of the
servants' tent, it disappeared, and the torch which usually burns outside
our tent had not been lighted at all; but a beam of light fell on the
road, and a man's figure slipped across in a black robe sprinkled with
gold ornaments which I saw glitter as the pale light of the lantern fell
upon them--just as a slimy, black newt glides through a pool. I have good
eyes as you know, and I will give one of them at this moment, if I am
mistaken, and if the cat that stole into our tent was not Eulaeus."

"And why did you not have him caught?" asked Publius, provoked.

"Because our tent was pitch-dark," replied Lysias, and that stout villain
is as slippery as a badger with the dogs at his heels, Owls, bats and
such vermin which seek their prey by night are all hideous to me, and
this Eulaeus, who grins like a hyaena when he laughs--"

"This Eulaeus," said Publius, interrupting his friend, "shall learn to
know me, and know too by experience that a man comes to no good, who
picks a quarrel with my father's son."

"But, in the first instance, you treated him with disdain and
discourtesy," said Lysias, "and that was not wise."

"Wise, and wise, and wise!" the Roman broke out. "He is a scoundrel. It
makes no difference to me so long as he keeps out of my way; but when, as
has been the case for several days now, he constantly sticks close to me
to spy upon me, and treats me as if he were my equal, I will show him
that he is mistaken. He has no reason to complain of my want of
frankness; he knows my opinion of him, and that I am quite inclined to
give him a thrashing. If I wanted to meet his cunning with cunning I
should get the worst of it, for he is far superior to me in intrigue. I
shall fare better with him by my own unconcealed mode of fighting, which
is new to him and puzzles him; besides it is better suited to my own
nature, and more consonant to me than any other. He is not only sly, but
is keen-witted, and he has at once connected the complaint which I have
threatened to bring against him with the manuscript which Serapion, the
recluse, gave me in his presence. There it lies--only look.

"Now, being not merely crafty, but a daring rascal too--two qualities
which generally contradict each other, for no one who is really prudent
lives in disobedience to the laws--he has secretly untied the strings
which fastened it. But, you see, he had not time enough to tie the roll
up again! He has read it all or in part, and I wish him joy of the
picture of himself he will have found painted there. The anchorite wields
a powerful pen, and paints with a firm outline and strongly marked
coloring. If he has read the roll to the end it will spare me the trouble
of explaining to him what I purpose to charge him with; if you disturbed
him too soon I shall have to be more explicit in my accusation. Be that
as it may, it is all the same to me."

"Nay, certainly not," cried Lysias, "for in the first case Eulaeus will
have time to meditate his lies, and bribe witnesses for his defence. If
any one entrusted me with such important papers--and if it had not been
you who neglected to do it--I would carefully seal or lock them up. Where
have you put the despatch from the Senate which the messenger brought you
just now?"

"That is locked up in this casket," replied Publius, moving his hand to
press it more closely over his robe, under which he had carefully hidden
it.

"May I not know what it contain?" asked the Corinthian.

"No, there is not time for that now, for we must first, and at once,
consider what can be done to repair the last mischief which you have
done. Is it not a disgraceful thing that you should betray the sweet
creature whose childlike embarrassment charmed us this morning--of whom
you yourself said, as we came home, that she reminded you of your lovely
sister--that you should betray her, I say, into the power of the wildest
of all the profligates I ever met--to this monster, whose pleasures are
the unspeakable, whose boast is vice? What has Euergetes--"

"By great Poseidon!" cried Lysias, eagerly interrupting his friend. "I
never once thought of this second Alcibiades when I mentioned her. What
can the manager of a performance do, but all in his power to secure the
applause of the audience? and, by my honor! it was for my own sake that I
wanted to bring Irene into the palace--I am mad with love for her--she
has undone me."

"Aye! like Callista, and Phryne, and the flute-player Stephanion,"
interrupted the Roman, shrugging his shoulders.

"How should it be different?" asked the Corinthian, looking at his friend
in astonishment. "Eros has many arrows in his quiver; one strikes deeply,
another less deeply; and I believe that the wound I have received to-day
will ache for many a week if I have to give up this child, who is even
more charming than the much-admired Hebe on our cistern."

"I advise you however to accustom yourself to the idea, and the sooner
the better," said Publius gravely, as he set himself with his arms
crossed, directly in front of the Greek. "What would you feel inclined to
do to me if I took a fancy to lure your pretty sister--whom Irene, I
repeat it, is said to resemble--to tempt her with base cunning from your
parents' house?"

"I protest against any such comparison," cried the Corinthian very
positively, and more genuinely exasperated than the Roman had ever seen
him.

"You are angry without cause," replied Publius calmly and gravely. "Your
sister is a charming girl, the ornament of your illustrious house, and
yet I dare compare the humble Irene--"

"With her! do you mean to say?" Lysias shouted again. "That is a poor
return for the hospitality which was shown to you by my parents and of
which you formally sang the praises. I am a good-natured fellow and will
submit to more from you than from any other man--I know not why,
myself;--but in a matter like this I do not understand a joke! My sister
is the only daughter of the noblest and richest house in Corinth and has
many suitors. She is in no respect inferior to the child of your own
parents, and I should like to know what you would say if I made so bold
as to compare the proud Lucretia with this poor little thing, who carries
water like a serving-maid."

"Do so, by all means!" interrupted Publius coolly, "I do not take your
rage amiss, for you do not know who these two sisters are, in the temple
of Serapis. Besides, they do not fill their jars for men but in the
service of a god. Here--take this roll and read it through while I answer
the despatch from Rome. Here! Spartacus, come and light a few more
lamps."

In a few minutes the two young men were sitting opposite each other at
the table which stood in the middle of their tent. Publius wrote busily,
and only looked up when his friend, who was reading the anchorite's
document, struck his hand on the table in disgust or sprang from his seat
ejaculating bitter words of indignation. Both had finished at the same
moment, and when Publius had folded and sealed his letter, and Lysias had
flung the roll on to the table, the Roman said slowly, as he looked his
friend steadily in the face: "Well?"

"Well!" repeated Lysias. I now find myself in the humiliating position of
being obliged to deem myself more stupid than you--I must own you in the
right, and beg your pardon for having thought you insolent and arrogant!
Never, no never did I hear a story so infernally scandalous as that in
that roll, and such a thing could never have occurred but among these
accursed Egyptians! Poor little Irene! And how can the dear little girl
have kept such a sunny look through it all! I could thrash myself like
any school-boy to think that I--a fool among fools--should have directed
the attention of Euergetes to this girl, and he, the most powerful and
profligate man in the whole country. What can now be done to save Irene
from him? I cannot endure the thought of seeing her abandoned to his
clutches, and I will not permit it to happen.

"Do not you think that we ought to take the water-bearers under our
charge?"

"Not only we ought but we must," said Publius decisively; "and if we did
not we should be contemptible wretches. Since the recluse took me into
his confidence I feel as if it were my, duty to watch over these girls
whose parents have been stolen from them, as if I were their
guardian--and you, my Lysias, shall help me. The elder sister is not now
very friendly towards me, but I do not esteem her the less for that; the
younger one seems less grave and reserved than Klea; I saw how she
responded to your smile when the procession broke up. Afterwards, you did
not come home immediately any more than I did, and I suspect that it was
Irene who detained you. Be frank, I earnestly beseech you, and tell me
all; for we must act in unison, and with thorough deliberation, if we
hope to succeed in spoiling Euergetes' game."

"I have not much to tell you," replied the Corinthian. "After the
procession I went to the Pastophorium--naturally it was to see Irene, and
in order not to fail in this I allowed the pilgrims to tell me what
visions the god had sent them in their dreams, and what advice had been
given them in the temple of Asclepius as to what to do for their own
complaints, and those of their cousins, male and female.

"Quite half an hour had passed so before Irene came. She carried a little
basket in which lay the gold ornaments she had worn at the festival, and
which she had to restore to the keeper of the temple-treasure. My
pomegranate-flower, which she had accepted in the morning, shone upon me
from afar, and then, when she caught sight of me and blushed all over,
casting down her eyes, then it was that it first struck me 'just like the
Hebe on our cistern.'

"She wanted to pass me, but I detained her, begging her to show me the
ornaments in her hand; I said a number of things such as girls like to
hear, and then I asked her if she were strictly watched, and whether they
gave her delicate little hands and feet--which were worthy of better
occupation than water-carrying--a great deal to do. She did not hesitate
to answer, but with all she said she rarely raised her eyes. The longer
you look at her the lovelier she is--and yet she is still a mere
child-though a child certainly who no longer loves staying at home, who
has dreams of splendor, and enjoyment, and freedom while she is kept shut
up in a dismal, dark place, and left to starve.

"The poor creatures may never quit the temple excepting for a procession,
or before sunrise. It sounded too delightful when she said that she was
always so horribly tired, and so glad to go to sleep again after she was
waked, and had to go out at once just when it is coldest, in the twilight
before sunrise. Then she has to draw water from a cistern called the Well
of the Sun."

"Do you know where that cistern lies?" asked Publius.

"Behind the acacia-grove," answered Lysias. "The guide pointed it out to
me. It is said to hold particularly sacred water, which must be poured as
a libation to the god at sunrise, unmixed with any other. The girls must
get up so early, that as soon as dawn breaks water from this cistern
shall not be lacking at the altar of Serapis. It is poured out on the
earth by the priests as a drink-offering."

Publius had listened attentively, and had not lost a word of his friend's
narrative. He now quitted him hastily, opened the tent-door, and went out
into the night, looking up to discover the hour from the stars which were
silently pursuing their everlasting courses in countless thousands, and
sparkling with extraordinary brilliancy in the deep blue sky. The moon
was already set, and the morning-star was slowly rising--every night
since the Roman had been in the land of the Pyramids he had admired its
magnificent size and brightness.

A cold breeze fanned the young man's brow, and as he drew his robe across
his breast with a shiver, he thought of the sisters, who, before long,
would have to go out in the fresh morning air. Once more he raised his
eyes from the earth to the firmament over his head, and it seemed to him
that he saw before his very eyes the proud form of Klea, enveloped in a
mantle sown over with stars. His heart throbbed high, and he felt as if
the breeze that his heaving breast inhaled in deep breaths was as fresh
and pure as the ether that floats over Elysium, and of a strange potency
withal, as if too rare to breathe. Still he fancied he saw before him the
image of Klea, but as he stretched out his hand towards the beautiful
vision it vanished--a sound of hoofs and wheels fell upon his ear.
Publius was not accustomed to abandon himself to dreaming when action was
needed, and this reminded him of the purpose for which he had come out
into the open air. Chariot after chariot came driving past as he returned
into his tent. Lysias, who during his absence had been pacing up and down
and reflecting, met him with the question:

"How long is it yet till sunrise?"

"Hardly two hours," replied the Roman. "And we must make good use of them
if we would not arrive too late."

"So I think too," said the Corinthian. "The sisters will soon be at the
Well of the Sun outside the temple walls, and I will persuade Irene to
follow me. You think I shall not be successful? Nor do I myself--but
still perhaps she will if I promise to show her something very pretty,
and if she does not suspect that she is to be parted from her sister, for
she is like a child."

"But Klea," interrupted Publius thoughtfully, "is grave and prudent; and
the light tone which you are so ready to adopt will be very little to her
taste, Consider that, and dare the attempt--no, you dare not deceive her.
Tell her the whole truth, out of Irene's hearing, with the gravity the
matter deserves, and she will not hinder her sister when she knows how
great and how imminent is the danger that threatens her."

"Good!" said the Corinthian. "I will be so solemnly earnest that the most
wrinkled and furrowed graybeard among the censors of your native city
shall seem a Dionysiac dancer compared with me. I will speak like your
Cato when he so bitterly complained that the epicures of Rome paid more
now for a barrel of fresh herrings than for a yoke of oxen. You shall be
perfectly satisfied with me!--But whither am I to conduct Irene? I might
perhaps make use of one of the king's chariots which are passing now by
dozens to carry the guests home."

"I also had thought of that," replied Publius. "Go with the chief of the
Diadoches, whose splendid house was shown to us yesterday. It is on the
way to the Serapeum, and just now at the feast you were talking with him
incessantly. When there, indemnify the driver by the gift of a gold
piece, so that he may not betray us, and do not return here but proceed
to the harbor. I will await you near the little temple of Isis with our
travelling chariot and my own horses, will receive Irene, and conduct her
to some new refuge while you drive back Fuergetes' chariot, and restore
it to the driver."

"That will not satisfy me by any means," said Lysias very gravely; "I was
ready to give up my pomegranate-flower to you yesterday for Irene, but
herself--"

"I want nothing of her," exclaimed Publius annoyed. "But you might--it
seems to me--be rather more zealous in helping me to preserve her from
the misfortune which threatens her through your own blunder. We cannot
bring her here, but I think that I have thought of a safe hiding-place
for her.

"Do you remember Apollodorus, the sculptor, to whom we were recommended
by my father, and his kind and friendly wife who set before us that
capital Chios wine? The man owes me a service, for my father commissioned
him and his assistants to execute the mosaic pavement in the new arcade
he was having built in the capitol; and subsequently, when the envy of
rival artists threatened his life, my father saved him. You yourself
heard him say that he and his were all at my disposal."

"Certainly, certainly," said Lysias. "But say, does it not strike you as
most extraordinary that artists, the very men, that is to say, who beyond
all others devote themselves to ideal aims and efforts, are particularly
ready to yield to the basest impulses; envy, detraction, and--"

"Man!" exclaimed Publius, angrily interrupting the Greek, "can you never
for ten seconds keep on the same subject, and never keep anything to
yourself that comes into your head? We have just now, as it seems to me,
more important matters to discuss than the jealousy of each other shown
by artists--and in my opinion, by learned men too. The sculptor
Apollodorus, who is thus beholden to me, has been living here for the
last six months with his wife and daughters, for he has been executing
for Philometor the busts of the philosophers, and the animal groups to
decorate the open space in front of the tomb of Apis. His sons are
managers of his large factory in Alexandria, and when he next goes there,
down the Nile in his boat, as often happens, he can take Irene with him,
and put her on board a ship.

"As to where we can have her taken to keep her safe from Euergetes, we
will talk that over afterwards with Apollodorus."

"Good, very good," agreed the Corinthian. "By Heracles! I am not
suspicious--still it does not altogether please me that you should
yourself conduct Irene to Apollodorus, for if you are seen in her company
our whole project may be shipwrecked. Send the sculptor's wife, who is
little known in Memphis, to the temple of Isis, and request her to bring
a veil and cloak to conceal the girl. Greet the gay Milesian from me too,
and tell her--no, tell her nothing--I shall see her myself afterwards at
the temple of Isis."

During the last words of this conversation, slaves had been enveloping
the two young men in their mantles. They now quitted the tent together,
wished each other success, and set out at a brisk pace; the Roman to have
his horses harnessed, and Lysias to accompany the chief of the Diadoches
in one of the king's chariots, and then to act on the plan he had agreed
upon with Publius.




CHAPTER XIII.

Chariot after chariot hurried out of the great gate of the king's palace
and into the city, now sunk in slumber. All was still in the great
banqueting-hall, and dark-hued slaves began with brooms and sponges to
clean the mosaic pavement, which was strewed with rose leaves and with
those that had fallen from the faded garlands of ivy and poplar; while
here and there the spilt wine shone with a dark gleam in the dim light of
the few lamps that had not been extinguished.

A young flute-player, overcome with sleep and wine, still sat in one
corner. The poplar wreath that had crowned his curls had slipped over his
pretty face, but even in sleep he still held his flute clasped fast in
his fingers. The servants let him sleep on, and bustled about without
noticing him; only an overseer pointed to him, and said laughing:

"His companions went home no more sober than that one. He is a pretty
boy, and pretty Chloes lover besides--she will look for him in vain this
morning."

"And to-morrow too perhaps," answered another; "for if the fat king sees
her, poor Damon will have seen the last of her."

But the fat king, as Euergetes was called by the Alexandrians, and,
following their example, by all the rest of Egypt, was not just then
thinking of Chloe, nor of any such person; he was in the bath attached to
his splendidly fitted residence. Divested of all clothing, he was
standing in the tepid fluid which completely filled a huge basin of white
marble. The clear surface of the perfumed water mirrored statues of
nymphs fleeing from the pursuit of satyrs, and reflected the shimmering
light of numbers of lamps suspended from the ceiling. At the upper end of
the bath reclined the bearded and stalwart statue of the Nile, over whom
the sixteen infant figures--representing the number of ells to which the
great Egyptian stream must rise to secure a favorable
inundation--clambered and played to the delight of their noble father
Nile and of themselves. From the vase which supported the arm of the
venerable god flowed an abundant stream of cold water, which five pretty
lads received in slender alabaster vases, and poured over the head and
the enormously prominent muscles of the breast, the back and the arms of
the young king who was taking his bath.

"More, more--again and again," cried Euergetes, as the boys began to
pause in bringing and pouring the water; and then, when they threw a
fresh stream over him, he snorted and plunged with satisfaction, and a
perfect shower of jets splashed off him as the blast of his breath
sputtered away the water that fell over his face.

At last he shouted out: "Enough!" flung himself with all his force into
the water, that spurted up as if a huge block of stone had been thrown
into it, held his head for a long time under water, and then went up the
marble steps of the bath shaking his head violently and mischievously in
his boyish insolence, so as thoroughly to wet his friends and servants
who were standing round the margin of the basin; he suffered himself to
be wrapped in snowy-white sheets of the thinnest and finest linen, to be
sprinkled with costly essences of delicate odor, and then he withdrew
into a small room hung all round with gaudy hangings.

There he flung himself on a mound of soft cushions, and said with a
deep-drawn breath: "Now I am happy; and I am as sober again as a baby
that has never tasted anything but its mother's milk. Pindar is right!
there is nothing better than water! and it slakes that raging fire which
wine lights up in our brain and blood. Did I talk much nonsense just now,
Hierax?"

The man thus addressed, the commander-in-chief of the royal troops, and
the king's particular friend, cast a hesitating glance at the bystanders;
but, Euergetes desiring him to speak without reserve, he replied:

"Wine never weakens the mind of such as you are to the point of folly,
but you were imprudent. It would be little short of a miracle if
Philometor did not remark--"

"Capital!" interrupted the king sitting up on his cushions. "You, Hierax,
and you, Komanus, remain here--you others may go. But do not go too far
off, so as to be close at hand in case I should need you. In these days
as much happens in a few hours as usually takes place in as many years."

Those who were thus dismissed withdrew, only the king's dresser, a
Macedonian of rank, paused doubtfully at the door, but Euergetes signed
to him to retire immediately, calling after him:

"I am very merry and shall not go to bed. At three hours after sunrise I
expect Aristarchus--and for work too. Put out the manuscripts that I
brought. Is the Eunuch Eulaeus waiting in the anteroom? Yes--so much the
better!

"Now we are alone, my wise friends Hierax and Komanus, and I must explain
to you that on this occasion, out of pure prudence, you seem to me to
have been anything rather than prudent. To be prudent is to have the
command of a wide circle of thought, so that what is close at hand is no
more an obstacle than what is remote. The narrow mind can command only
that which lies close under observation; the fool and visionary only that
which is far off. I will not blame you, for even the wisest has his hours
of folly, but on this occasion you have certainly overlooked that which
is at hand, in gazing at the distance, and I see you stumble in
consequence. If you had not fallen into that error you would hardly have
looked so bewildered when, just now, I exclaimed 'Capital!'

"Now, attend to me. Philometor and my sister know very well what my humor
is, and what to expect of me. If I had put on the mask of a satisfied man
they would have been surprised, and have scented mischief, but as it was
I showed myself to them exactly what I always am and even more reckless
than usual, and talked of what I wanted so openly that they may indeed
look forward to some deed of violence at my hands but hardly to a
treacherous surprise, and that tomorrow; for he who falls on his enemy in
the rear makes no noise about it.

"If I believed in your casuistry, I might think that to attack the enemy
from behind was not a particularly fine thing to do, for even I would
rather see a man's face than his rear--particularly in the case of my
brother and sister, who are both handsome to look upon. But what can a
man do? After all, the best thing to do is what wins the victory and
makes the game. Indeed, my mode of warfare has found supporters among the
wise. If you want to catch mice you must waste bacon, and if we are to
tempt men into a snare we must know what their notions and ideas are, and
begin by endeavoring to confuse them.

"A bull is least dangerous when he runs straight ahead in his fury; while
his two-legged opponent is least dangerous when he does not know what he
is about and runs feeling his way first to the right and then to the
left. Thanks to your approval--for I have deserved it, and I hope to be
able to return it, my friend Hierax. I am curious as to your report.
Shake up the cushion here under my head--and now you may begin."

"All appears admirably arranged," answered the general. "The flower of
our troops, the Diadoches and Hetairoi, two thousand-five hundred men,
are on their way hither, and by to-morrow will encamp north of Memphis.
Five hundred will find their way into the citadel, with the priests and
other visitors to congratulate you on your birthday, the other two
thousand will remain concealed in the tents. The captain of your brother
Philometor's Philobasilistes is bought over, and will stand by us; but
his price was high--Komanus was forced to offer him twenty talents before
he would bite."

"He shall have them," said the king laughing, "and he shall keep them
too, till it suits me to regard him as suspicious, and to reward him
according to his deserts by confiscating his estates. Well! proceed."

"In order to quench the rising in Thebes, the day before yesterday
Philometor sent the best of the mercenaries with the standards of
Desilaus and Arsinoe to the South. Certainly it cost not a little to
bribe the ringleaders, and to stir up the discontent to an outbreak."

"My brother will repay us for this outlay," interrupted the king, "when
we pour his treasure into our own coffers. Go on."

"We shall have most difficulty with the priests and the Jews. The former
cling to Philometor, because he is the eldest son of his father, and has
given large bounties to the temples, particularly of Apollinopolis and
Philae; the Jews are attached to him, because he favors them more than
the Greeks, and he, and his wife--your illustrious sister--trouble
themselves with their vain religious squabbles; he disputes with them
about the doctrines contained in their book, and at table too prefers
conversing with them to any one else."

"I will salt the wine and meat for them that they fatten on here," cried
Euergetes vehemently, "I forbade to-day their presence at my table, for
they have good eyes and wits as sharp as their noses. And they are most
dangerous when they are in fear, or can reckon on any gains.

"At the same time it cannot be denied that they are honest and tenacious,
and as most of them are possessed of some property they rarely make
common cause with the shrieking mob--particularly here in Alexandria.

"Envy alone can reproach them for their industry and enterprise, for the
activity of the Hellenes has improved upon the example set by them and
their Phoenician kindred.

"They thrive best in peaceful times, and since the world runs more
quietly here, under my brother and sister, than under me, they attach
themselves to them, lend my brother money, and supply my sister with cut
stones, sapphires and emeralds, selling fine stuffs and other woman's
gear for a scrap of written papyrus, which will soon be of no more value
than the feather which falls from the wing of that green screaming bird
on the perch yonder.

"It is incomprehensible to me that so keen a people cannot perceive that
there is nothing permanent but change, nothing so certain as that nothing
is certain; and that they therefore should regard their god as the one
only god, their own doctrine as absolutely and eternally true, and that
they contemn what other peoples believe.

"These darkened views make fools of them, but certainly good soldiers
too--perhaps by reason indeed of this very exalted self-consciousness and
their firm reliance on their supreme god."

"Yes, they certainly are," assented Hierax. "But they serve your brother
more willingly, and at a lower price, than us."

"I will show them," cried the king, "that their taste is a perverted and
obnoxious one. I require of the priests that they should instruct the
people to be obedient, and to bear their privations patiently; but the
Jews," and at these words his eyes rolled with an ominous glare, "the
Jews I will exterminate, when the time comes."

"That will be good for our treasury too," laughed Komanus.

"And for the temples in the country," added Euergetes, "for though I seek
to extirpate other foes I would rather win over the priests; and I must
try to win them if Philometor's kingdom falls into my hands, for the
Egyptians require that their king should be a god; and I cannot arrive at
the dignity of a real god, to whom my swarthy subjects will pray with
thorough satisfaction, and without making my life a burden to me by
continual revolts, unless I am raised to it by the suffrages of the
priests."

"And nevertheless," replied Hierax, who was the only one of Euergetes'
dependents, who dared to contradict him on important questions,
"nevertheless this very day a grave demand is to be preferred on your
account to the high-priest of Serapis. You press for the surrender of a
servant of the god, and Philometor will not neglect--"

"Will not neglect," interrupted Euergetes, "to inform the mighty
Asclepiodorus that he wants the sweet creature for me, and not for
himself. Do you know that Eros has pierced my heart, and that I burn for
the fair Irene, although these eyes have not yet been blessed with the
sight of her?

"I see you believe me, and I am speaking the exact truth, for I vow I
will possess myself of this infantine Hebe as surely as I hope to win my
brother's throne; but when I plant a tree, it is not merely to ornament
my garden but to get some use of it. You will see how I will win over
both the prettiest of little lady-loves and the high-priest who, to be
sure, is a Greek, but still a man hard to bend. My tools are all ready
outside there.

"Now, leave me, and order Eulaeus to join me here."

"You are as a divinity," said Komanus, bowing deeply, "and we but as
frail mortals. Your proceedings often seem dark and incomprehensible to
our weak intellect, but when a course, which to us seems to lead to no
good issue, turns out well, we are forced to admit with astonishment that
you always choose the best way, though often a tortuous one."

For a short time the king was alone, sitting with his black brows knit,
and gazing meditatively at the floor. But as soon as he heard the soft
foot-fall of Eulaeus, and the louder step of his guide, he once more
assumed the aspect of a careless and reckless man of the world, shouted a
jolly welcome to Eulaeus, reminded him of his, the king's, boyhood, and
of how often he, Eulaeus, had helped him to persuade his mother to grant
him some wish she had previously refused him.

"But now, old boy," continued the king, "the times are changed, and with
you now-a-days it is everything for Philometor and nothing for poor
Euergetes, who, being the younger, is just the one who most needs your
assistance."

Eulaeus bowed with a smile which conveyed that he understood perfectly