"In the name of all the gods, Lysias," cried the Roman, without greeting

his friend, what fool's trick are you at there again! Are you turned
oil-seller, or have you taken to training pigeons?"

"I am the one, and I am doing the other," answered the Corinthian with a
laugh, for he it was to whom the Roman's speech was addressed. "How do
you like my nest of young doves? It strikes me as uncommonly pretty, and
how well the golden circlet that links their necks becomes the little
creatures!"

"Here, put out your claws, you black crocodile," he continued, turning to
his little assistant, "carry the basket carefully into the house, and
repeat what I say, 'From the love-sick Lysias to the fair Irene'--Only
look, Publius, how the little monster grins at me with his white teeth.
You shall hear that his Greek is far less faultless than his teeth. Prick
up your ears, you little ichneumon--now once more repeat what you are to
say in there--do you see where I am pointing with my finger?--to the
master or to the lady who shall take the doves from you."

With much pitiful stammering the boy repeated the Corinthian's message to
Irene, and as he stood there with his mouth wide open, Lysias, who was an
expert at "ducks and drakes" on the water, neatly tossed into it a silver
drachma. This mouthful was much to the little rascal's taste, for after
he had taken the coin out of his mouth he stood with wide-open jaws
opposite his liberal master, waiting for another throw; Lysias however
boxed him lightly on his ears, and chucked him under the chin, saying as
he snapped the boy's teeth together:

"Now carry up the birds and wait for the answer." "This offering is to
Irene, then?" said Publius. "We have not met for a long time; where were
you all day yesterday?"

"It will be far more entertaining to hear what you were about all the
night long. You are dressed as if you had come straight here from Rome.
Euergetes has already sent for you once this morning, and the queen
twice; she is over head and ears in love with you."

"Folly! Tell me now what you were doing all yesterday."

"Tell me first where you have been."

"I had to go some distance and will tell you all about it later, but not
now; and I encountered strange things on my way--aye, I must say
extraordinary things. Before sunrise I found a bed in the inn yonder, and
to my own great surprise I slept so soundly that I awoke only two hours
since."

"That is a very meagre report; but I know of old that if you do not
choose to speak no god could drag a syllable from you. As regards myself
I should do myself an injury by being silent, for my heart is like an
overloaded beast of burden and talking will relieve it. Ah! Publius, my
fate to-day is that of the helpless Tantalus, who sees juicy pears
bobbing about under his nose and tempting his hungry stomach, and yet
they never let him catch hold of them, only look-in there dwells Irene,
the pear, the peach, the pomegranate, and my thirsting heart is consumed
with longing for her. You may laugh--but to-day Paris might meet Helen
with impunity, for Eros has shot his whole store of arrows into me. You
cannot see them, but I can feel them, for not one of them has he drawn
out of the wound. And the darling little thing herself is not wholly
untouched by the winged boy's darts. She has confessed so much to me
myself. It is impossible for me to refuse her any thing, and so I was
fool enough to swear a horrible oath that I would not try to see her till
she was reunited to her tall solemn sister, of whom I am exceedingly
afraid. Yesterday I lurked outside this house just as a hungry wolf in
cold weather sneaks about a temple where lambs are being sacrificed, only
to see her, or at least to hear a word from her lips, for when she speaks
it is like the song of nightingales--but all in vain. Early this morning
I came back to the city and to this spot; and as hanging about forever
was of no use, I bought up the stock of the old oil-seller, who is asleep
there in the corner, and settled myself in his stall, for here no one can
escape me, who enters or quits Apollodorus' house--and, besides, I am
only forbidden to visit Irene; she herself allows me to send her
greetings, and no one forbids me, not even Apollodorus, to whom I spoke
an hour ago."

"And that basket of birds that your dusky errand-boy carried into the
house just now, was such a 'greeting?"

"Of course--that is the third already. First I sent her a lovely nosegay
of fresh pomegranate-blossoms, and with it a few verses I hammered out in
the course of the night; then a basket of peaches which she likes very
much, and now the doves. And there lie her answers--the dear, sweet
creature! For my nosegay I got this red riband, for the fruit this peach
with a piece bitten out. Now I am anxious to see what I shall get for my
doves. I bought that little brown scamp in the market, and I shall take
him with me to Corinth as a remembrance of Memphis, if he brings me back
something pretty this time. There, I hear the door, that is he; come here
youngster, what have you brought?" Publius stood with his arms crossed
behind his back, hearing and watching the excited speech and gestures of
his friend who seemed to him, to-day more than ever, one of those
careless darlings of the gods, whose audacious proceedings give us
pleasure because they match with their appearance and manner, and we feel
they can no more help their vagaries than a tree can help blossoming. As
soon as Lysias spied a small packet in the boy's hand he did not take it
from him but snatched up the child, who was by no means remarkably small,
by the leather belt that fastened up his loin-cloth, tossed him up as if
he were a plaything, and set him down on the table by his side,
exclaiming:

"I will teach you to fly, my little hippopotamus! Now, show me what you
have got."

He hastily took the packet from the hand of the youngster, who looked
quite disconcerted, weighed it in his hand and said, turning to Publius:

"There is something tolerably heavy in this--what can it contain?"

"I am quite inexperienced in such matters," replied the Roman.

"And I much experienced," answered Lysias. "It might be, wait-it might be
the clasp of her girdle in here. Feel, it is certainly something hard."

Publius carefully felt the packet that the Corinthian held out to him,
with his fingers, and then said with a smile:

"I can guess what you have there, and if I am right I shall be much
pleased. Irene, I believe, has returned you the gold bracelet on a little
wooden tablet."

"Nonsense!" answered Lysias. "The ornament was prettily wrought and of
some value, and every girl is fond of ornaments."

"Your Corinthian friends are, at any rate. But look what the wrapper
contains."

"Do you open it," said the Corinthian.

Publius first untied a thread, then unfolded a small piece of white
linen, and came at last to an object wrapped in a bit of flimsy, cheap
papyrus. When this last envelope was removed, the bracelet was in fact
discovered, and under it lay a small wax tablet.

Lysias was by no means pleased with this discovery, and looked
disconcerted and annoyed at the return of his gift; but he soon mastered
his vexation, and said turning to his friend, who was not in the least
maliciously triumphant, but who stood looking thoughtfully at the ground.

"Here is something on the little tablet--the sauce no doubt to the
peppered dish she has set before me."

"Still, eat it," interrupted Publius. "It may do you good for the
future."

Lysias took the tablet in his hand, and after considering it carefully on
both sides he said:

"It belongs to the sculptor, for there is his name. And there--why she
has actually spiced the sauce or, if you like it better the bitter dose,
with verses. They are written more clearly than beautifully, still they
are of the learned sort."

"Well?" asked the Roman with curiosity, as Lysias read the lines to
himself; the Greek did not look up from the writing but sighed softly,
and rubbing the side of his finely-cut nose with his finger he replied:

"Very pretty, indeed, for any one to whom they are not directly
addressed. Would you like to hear the distich?"

"Read it to me, I beg of you."

"Well then," said the Corinthian, and sighing again he read aloud;

'Sweet is the lot of the couple whom love has united;
But gold is a debt, and needs must at once be restored.'

"There, that is the dose. But doves are not human creatures, and I know
at once what my answer shall be. Give me the fibula, Publius, that clasps
that cloak in which you look like one of your own messengers. I will
write my answer on the wax."

The Roman handed to Lysias the golden circlet armed with a strong pin,
and while he stood holding his cloak together with his hands, as he was
anxious to avoid recognition by the passers-by that frequented this
street, the Corinthian wrote as follows:

"When doves are courting the lover adorns himself only;
But when a youth loves, he fain would adorn his beloved."

"Am I allowed to hear it?" asked Publius, and his friend at once read him
the lines; then he gave the tablet to the boy, with the bracelet which he
hastily wrapped up again, and desired him to take it back immediately to
the fair Irene. But the Roman detained the lad, and laying his hand on
the Greek's shoulder, he asked him: "And if the young girl accepts this
gift, and after it many more besides--since you are rich enough to make
her presents to her heart's content--what then, Lysias?"

"What then?" repeated the other with more indecision and embarrassment
than was his wont. "Then I wait for Klea's return home and--Aye! you may
laugh at me, but I have been thinking seriously of marrying this girl,
and taking her with me to Corinth. I am my father's only son, and for the
last three years he has given me no peace. He is bent on my mother's
finding me a wife or on my choosing one for myself. And if I took him the
pitch-black sister of this swarthy lout I believe he would be glad. I
never was more madly in love with any girl than with this little Irene,
as true as I am your friend; but I know why you are looking at me with a
frown like Zeus the Thunderer. You know of what consequence our family is
in Corinth, and when I think of that, then to be sure--"

"Then to be sure?" enquired the Roman in sharp, grave tone.

"Then I reflect that a water-bearer--the daughter of an outlawed man, in
our house--"

"And do you consider mine as being any less illustrious in Rome than your
own is in Corinth?" asked Publius sternly.

"On the contrary, Publius Cornelius Scipio Nasica. We are important by
our wealth, you by your power and estates."

"So it is--and yet I am about to conduct Irene's sister Klea as my lawful
wife to my father's house."

"You are going to do that!" cried Lysias springing from his seat, and
flinging himself on the Roman's breast, though at this moment a party of
Egyptians were passing by in the deserted street. "Then all is well,
then--oh! what a weight is taken off my mind!--then Irene shall be my
wife as sure as I live! Oh Eros and Aphrodite and Father Zeus and Apollo!
how happy I am! I feel as if the biggest of the Pyramids yonder had
fallen off my heart. Now, you rascal, run up and carry to the fair Irene,
the betrothed of her faithful Lysias--mark what I say--carry her at once
this tablet and bracelet. But you will not say it right; I will write
here above my distich: 'From the faithful Lysias to the fair Irene his
future wife.' There--and now I think she will not send the thing back
again, good girl that she is! Listen, rascal, if she keeps it you may
swallow cakes to-day out on the Grand Square till you burst--and yet I
have only just paid five gold pieces for you. Will she keep the bracelet,
Publius--yes or no?"

"She will keep it."

A few minutes later the boy came hurrying back, and pulling the Greek
vehemently by his dress, he cried:

"Come, come with me, into the house." Lysias with a light and graceful
leap sprang right over the little fellow's head, tore open the door, and
spread out his arms as he caught sight of Irene, who, though trembling
like a hunted gazelle, flew down the narrow ladder-like stairs to meet
him, and fell on his breast laughing and crying and breathless.

In an instant their lips met, but after this first kiss she tore herself
from his arms, rushed up the stairs again, and then, from the top step,
shouted joyously:

"I could not help seeing you this once! now farewell till Klea comes,
then we meet again," and she vanished into an upper room.

Lysias turned to his friend like one intoxicated, he threw himself down
on his bench, and said:

"Now the heavens may fall, nothing can trouble me! Ye immortal gods, how
fair the world is!"

"Strange boy!" exclaimed the Roman, interrupting his friend's rapture.
"You can not stay for ever in this dingy stall."

"I will not stir from this spot till Klea comes. The boy there shall
fetch me victuals as an old sparrow feeds his young; and if necessary I
will lie here for a week, like the little sardines they preserve in oil
at Alexandria."

"I hope you will have only a few hours to wait; but I must go, for I am
planning a rare surprise for King Euergetes on his birthday, and must go
to the palace. The festival is already in full swing. Only listen how
they are shouting and calling down by the harbor; I fancy I can hear the
name of Euergetes."

"Present my compliments to the fat monster! May we meet again
soon--brother-in-law!"




CHAPTER XXV.

King Euergetes was pacing restlessly up and down the lofty room which his
brother had furnished with particular magnificence to be his
reception-room. Hardly had the sun risen on the morning of his birthday
when he had betaken himself to the temple of Ptah with a numerous
suite--before his brother Philometor could set out--in order to sacrifice
there, to win the good graces of the high-priest of the sanctuary, and to
question of the oracle of Apis. All had fallen out well, for the sacred
bull had eaten out of his hand; and yet he would have been more
glad--though it should have disdained the cake he offered it, if only
Eulaeus had brought him the news that the plot against the Roman's life
had been successful.

Gift after gift, addresses of congratulation from every district of the
country, priestly decrees drawn up in his honor and engraved on tablets
of hard stone, lay on every table or leaned against the walls of the vast
ball which the guests had just quitted. Only Hierax, the king's friend,
remained with him, supporting himself, while he waited for some sign from
his sovereign, on a high throne made of gold and ivory and richly
decorated with gems, which had been sent to the king by the Jewish
community of Alexandria.

The great commander knew his master well and knew too that it was not
prudent to address him when he looked as he did now. But Euergetes
himself was aware of the need for speech, and he began, without pausing
in his walk or looking at his dignified friend:

"Even the Philobasilistes have proved corrupt; my soldiers in the citadel
are more numerous and are better men too than those that have remained
faithful to Philometor, and there ought to be nothing more for me to do
but to stir up a brief clatter of swords on shields, to spring upon the
throne, and to have myself proclaimed king; but I will never go into the
field with the strongest division of the enemy in my rear. My brother's
head is on my sister's shoulders, and so long as I am not certain of
her--"

A chamberlain rushed into the room as the king spoke, and interrupted him
by shouting out:

"Queen Cleopatra."

A smile of triumph flashed across the features of the young giant; he
flung himself with an air of indifference on to a purple divan, and
desired that a magnificent lyre made of ivory, and presented to him by
his sister, should be brought to him; on it was carved with wonderful
skill and delicacy a representation of the first marriage, that of Cadmus
with Harmonia, at which all the gods had attended as guests.

Euergetes grasped the chords with wonderful vigor and mastery, and began
to play a wedding march, in which eager triumph alternated with tender
whisperings of love and longing.

The chamberlain, whose duty it was to introduce the queen to her
brother's presence, wished to interrupt this performance of his
sovereign's; but Cleopatra held him back, and stood listening at the door
with her children till Euergetes had brought the air to a rapid
conclusion with a petulant sweep of the strings, and a loud and
ear-piercing discord; then he flung his lute on the couch and rose with
well-feigned surprise, going forward to meet the queen as if, absorbed in
playing, he had not heard her approach.

He greeted his sister affectionately, holding out both his hands to her,
and spoke to the children--who were not afraid of him, for he knew how to
play madcap games with them like a great frolicsome boy--welcoming them
as tenderly as if he were their own father.

He could not weary of thanking Cleopatra for her thoughtful present--so
appropriate to him, who like Cadmus longed to boast of having mastered
Harmonia, and finally--she not having found a word to say--he took her by
the hand to exhibit to her the presents sent him by her husband and from
the provinces. But Cleopatra seemed to take little pleasure in all these
things, and said:

"Yes, everything is admirable, just as it has always been every year for
the last twenty years; but I did not come here to see but to listen."

Her brother was radiant with satisfaction; she on the contrary was pale
and grave, and, could only now and then compel herself to a forced smile.

"I fancied," said Euergetes, "that your desire to wish me joy was the
principal thing that had brought you here, and, indeed, my vanity
requires me to believe it. Philometor was with me quite early, and
fulfilled that duty with touching affection. When will he go into the
banqueting-hall?"

"In half an hour; and till then tell me, I entreat you, what yesterday
you--"

"The best events are those that are long in preparing," interrupted her
brother. "May I ask you to let the children, with their attendants,
retire for a few minutes into the inner rooms?"

"At once!" cried Cleopatra eagerly, and she pushed her eldest boy, who
clamorously insisted on remaining with his uncle, violently out of the
door without giving his attendant time to quiet him or take him in her
arms.

While she was endeavoring, with angry scolding and cross words, to hasten
the children's departure, Eulaeus came into the room. Euergetes, as soon
as he saw him, set every limb with rigid resolve, and drew breath so
deeply that his broad chest heaved high, and a strong respiration parted
his lips as he went forward to meet the eunuch, slowly but with an
enquiring look.

Eulaeus cast a significant glance at Hierax and Cleopatra, went quite
close up to the king, whispered a few words into his ear, and answered
his brief questions in a low voice.

"It is well," said Euergetes at last, and with a decisive gesture of his
hand he dismissed Eulaeus and his friend from the room.

Then he stood, as pale as death, his teeth set in his under-lip, and
gazing blankly at the ground.

He had his will, Publius Cornelius Scipio lived no more; his ambition
might reach without hindrance the utmost limits of his desires, and yet
he could not rejoice; he could not escape from a deep horror of himself,
and he struck his broad forehead with his clenched fists. He was face to
face with his first dastardly murder.

"And what news does Eulaeus bring?" asked Cleopatra in anxious
excitement, for she had never before seen her brother like this; but he
did not hear these words, and it was not till she had repeated them with
more insistence that he collected himself, stared at her from head to
foot with a fixed, gloomy expression, and then, letting his hand fall on
her shoulder so heavily that her knees bent under her and she gave a
little cry, asked her in a low but meaning tone:

"Are you strong enough to bear to hear great news?"

"Speak," she said in a low voice, and her eyes were fixed on his lips
while she pressed her hand on her heart. Her anxiety to hear fettered her
to him, as with a tangible tie, and he, as if he must burst it by the
force of his utterance, said with awful solemnity, in his deepest tones
and emphasizing every syllable:

"Publius Cornelius Scipio Nasica is dead."

At these words Cleopatra's pale cheeks were suddenly dyed with a crimson
glow, and clenching her little hands she struck them together, and
exclaimed with flashing eyes:

"I hoped so!"

Euergetes withdrew a step from his sister, and said: "You were right. It
is not only among the race of gods that the most fearful of all are
women!"

"What have you to say?" retorted Cleopatra. "And am I to believe that a
toothache has kept the Roman away from the banquet yesterday, and again
from coming to see me to-day? Am I to repeat, after you, that he died of
it? Now, speak out, for it rejoices my heart to hear it; where and how
did the insolent hypocrite meet his end?"

"A serpent stung him," replied Euergetes, turning from his sister. "It
was in the desert, not far from the Apis-tombs."

"He had an assignation in the Necropolis at midnight--it would seem to
have begun more pleasantly than it ended?"

Euergetes nodded assent to the question, and added gravely:

"His fate overtook him--but I cannot see anything very pleasing in the
matter."

"No?" asked the queen. "And do you think that I do not know the asp that
ended that life in its prime? Do you think that I do not know, who set
the poisoned serpent on the Roman? You are the assassin, and Eulaeus and
his accomplices have helped you! Only yesterday I would have given my
heart's blood for Publius, and would rather have carried you to the grave
than him; but to-day, now that I know the game that the wretch has been
playing with me, I would even have taken on myself the bloody deed which,
as it is, stains your hands. Not even a god should treat your sister with
such contempt--should insult her as he has done--and go unpunished!
Another has already met the same fate, as you know--Eustorgos, Hipparchon
of Bithynia, who, while he seemed to be dying of love for me, was
courting Kallistrata my lady in waiting; and the wild beasts and serpents
exercised their dark arts on him too. Eulaeus' intelligence has fallen on
you, who are powerful, like a cold hand on your heart; in me, the weak
woman, it rouses unspeakable delight. I gave him the best of all a woman
has to bestow, and he dared to trample it in the dust; and had I no right
to require of him that he should pour out the best that he had, which was
his life, in the same way as he had dared to serve mine, which is my
love? I have a right to rejoice at his death. Aye! the heavy lids now
close those bright eyes which could be falser than the stern lips that
were so apt to praise truth. The faithless heart is forever still which
could scorn the love of a queen--and for what? For whom? Oh, ye pitiful
gods!"

With these words the queen sobbed aloud, hastily lifting her hands to
cover her eyes, and ran to the door by which she had entered her
brother's rooms.

But Euergetes stood in her way, and said sternly and positively:

"You are to stay here till I return. Collect yourself, for at the next
event which this momentous day will bring forth it will be my turn to
laugh while your blood shall run cold." And with a few swift steps he
left the hall.

Cleopatra buried her face in the soft cushions of the couch, and wept
without ceasing, till she was presently startled by loud cries and the
clatter of arms. Her quick wit told her what was happening. In frantic
haste she flew to the door but it was locked; no shaking, no screaming,
no thumping seemed to reach the ears of the guard whom she heard
monotonously walking up and down outside her prison.

And now the tumult and clang of arms grew louder and louder, and the
rattle of drums and blare of trumpets began to mingle with the sound. She
rushed to the window in mortal fear, and looked down into the
palace-yard; at that same instant the door of the great banqueting-hall
was flung open, and a flying crowd streamed out in distracted
confusion--then another, and a third--all troops in King Philometor's
uniform. She ran to the door of the room into which she had thrust her
children; that too was locked. In her desperation she once more sprang to
the window, shouted to the flying Macedonians to halt and make a
stand--threatening and entreating; but no one heard her, and their number
constantly increased, till at length she saw her husband standing on the
threshold of the great hall with a gaping wound on his forehead, and
defending himself bravely and stoutly with buckler and sword against the
body-guard of his own brother, who were pressing him sorely. In agonized
excitement she shouted encouraging words to him, and he seemed to hear
her, for with a strong sweep of his shield he struck his nearest
antagonist to the earth, sprang with a mighty leap into the midst of his
flying adherents, and vanished with them through the passage which led to
the palace-stables.

The queen sank fainting on her knees by the window, and, through the
gathering shades of her swoon her dulled senses still were conscious of
the trampling of horses, of a shrill trumpet-blast, and at last of a
swelling and echoing shout of triumph with cries of, "Hail: hail to the
son of the Sun--Hail to the uniter of the two kingdoms; Hail to the King
of Upper and Lower Egypt, to Euergetes the god."

But at the last words she recovered consciousness entirely and started
up. She looked down into the court again, and there saw her brother borne
along on her husband's throne-litter by dignitaries and nobles. Side by
side with the traitor's body-guard marched her own and Philometor's
Philobasilistes and Diadoches.

The magnificent train went out of the great court of the palace, and
then--as she heard the chanting of priests--she realized that she had
lost her crown, and knew whither her faithless brother was proceeding.

She ground her teeth as her fancy painted all that was now about to
happen. Euergetes was being borne to the temple of Ptah, and proclaimed
by its astonished chief-priests, as King of Upper and Lower Egypt, and
successor to Philometor. Four pigeons would be let fly in his presence to
announce to the four quarters of the heavens that a new sovereign had
mounted the throne of his fathers, and amid prayer and sacrifice a golden
sickle would be presented to him with which, according to ancient custom,
he would cut an ear of corn.

Betrayed by her brother, abandoned by her husband, parted from her
children, scorned by the man she had loved, dethroned and powerless, too
weak and too utterly crushed to dream of revenge--she spent two
interminably long hours in the keenest anguish of mind, shut up in her
prison which was overloaded with splendor and with gifts. If poison had
been within her reach, in that hour she would unhesitatingly have put an
end to her ruined life. Now she walked restlessly up and down, asking
herself what her fate would be, and now she flung herself on the couch
and gave herself up to dull despair.

There lay the lyre she had given to her brother; her eye fell on the
relievo of the marriage of Cadmus and Harmonia, and on the figure of a
woman who was offering a jewel to the bride. The bearer of the gift was
the goddess of love, and the ornament she gave--so ran the
legend--brought misfortune on those who inherited it. All the darkest
hours of her life revived in her memory, and the blackest of them all had
come upon her as the outcome of Aphrodite's gifts. She thought with a
shudder of the murdered Roman, and remembered the moment when Eulaeus had
told her that her Bithynian lover had been killed by wild beasts. She
rushed from one door to another--the victim of the avenging
Eumenides--shrieked from the window for rescue and help, and in that one
hour lived through a whole year of agonies and terrors.

At last--at last, the door of the room was opened, and Euergetes came
towards her, clad in the purple, with the crown of the two countries on
his grand head, radiant with triumph and delight.

"All hail to you, sister!" he exclaimed in a cheerful tone, and lifting
the heavy crown from his curling hair. "You ought to be proud to-day, for
your own brother has risen to high estate, and is now King of Upper and
Lower Egypt."

Cleopatra turned from him, but he followed her and tried to take her
hand. She however snatched it away, exclaiming:

"Fill up the measure of your deeds, and insult the woman whom you have
robbed and made a widow. It was with a prophecy on your lips that you
went forth just now to perpetrate your greatest crime; but it falls on
your own head, for you laugh over our misfortune--and it cannot regard
me, for my blood does not run cold; I am not overwhelmed nor hopeless,
and I shall--"

"You," interrupted Euergetes, at first with a loud voice, which presently
became as gentle as though he were revealing to her the prospect of a
future replete with enjoyment, "You shall retire to your roof-tent with
your children, and there you shall be read to as much as you like, eat as
many dainties as you can, wear as many splendid dresses as you can
desire, receive my visits and gossip with me as often as my society may
seem agreeable to you--as yours is to me now and at all times. Besides
all this you may display your sparkling wit before as many Greek and
Jewish men of letters or learning as you can command, till each and all
are dazzled to blindness. Perhaps even before that you may win back your
freedom, and with it a full treasury, a stable full of noble horses, and
a magnificent residence in the royal palace on the Bruchion in gay
Alexandria. It depends only on how soon our brother Philometor--who
fought like a lion this morning--perceives that he is more fit to be a
commander of horse, a lute-player, an attentive host of word-splitting
guests--than the ruler of a kingdom. Now, is it not worthy of note to
those who, like you and me, sister, love to investigate the phenomena of
our spiritual life, that this man--who in peace is as yielding as wax, as
week as a reed--is as tough and as keen in battle as a finely tempered
sword? We hacked bravely at each other's shields, and I owe this slash
here on my shoulder to him. If Hierax--who is in pursuit of him with his
horsemen--is lucky and catches him in time, he will no doubt give up the
crown of his own free will."

"Then he is not yet in your power, and he had time to mount a horse!"
cried Cleopatra, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction; "then all is not
yet lost for us. If Philometor can but reach Rome, and lay our case
before the Senate--"

"Then he might certainly have some prospect of help from the Republic,
for Rome does not love to see a strong king on the throne of Egypt," said
Euergetes. "But you have lost your mainstay by the Tiber, and I am about
to make all the Scipios and the whole gens Cornelia my stanch allies, for
I mean to have the deceased Roman burnt with the finest cedar-wood and
Arabian spices; sacrifices shall be slaughtered at the same time as if he
had been a reigning king, and his ashes shall be sent to Ostia and Rome
in the costliest specimen of Vasa murrina that graces my treasure-house,
and on a ship specially fitted, and escorted by the noblest of my
friends. The road to the rampart of a hostile city lies over corpses, and
I, as general and king--"

Euergetes suddenly broke off in his sentence, for a loud noise and
vehement talking were heard outside the door. Cleopatra too had not
failed to observe it, and listened with alert attention; for on such a
day and in these apartments every dialogue, every noise in the king's
antechamber might be of grave purport.

Euergetes did not deceive himself in this matter any more than his
sister, and he went towards the door holding the sacrificial sickle,
which formed part of his regalia, in his right hand. But he had not
crossed the room when Eulaeus rushed in, as pale as death, and calling
out to his sovereign:

"The murderers have betrayed us; Publius Scipio is alive, and insists on
being admitted to speak with you."

The king's armed hand fell by his side, and for a moment he gazed blankly
into vacancy, but the next instant he had recovered himself, and roared
in a voice which filled the room like rolling thunder:

"Who dares to hinder the entrance of my friend Publius Cornelius Scipio?
And are you still here, Eulaeus--you scoundrel and you villain! The first
case that I, as King of Upper and Lower Egypt, shall open for trial will
be that which this man--who is your foe and my friend--proposes to bring
against you. Welcome! most welcome on my birthday, my noble friend!"

The last words were addressed to Publius, who now entered the room with
stately dignity, and clad in the ample folds of the white toga worn by
Romans of high birth. He held a sealed roll or despatch in his right
hand, and, while he bowed respectfully to Cleopatra, he seemed entirely
to overlook the hands King Euergetes held out in welcome. After his first
greeting had been disdained by the Roman, Euergetes would not have
offered him a second if his life had depended on it. He crossed his arms
with royal dignity, and said:

"I am grieved to receive your good wishes the last of all that have been
offered me on this happy day."

"Then you must have changed your mind," replied Publius, drawing up his
slight figure, which was taller than the king's, "You have no lack of
docile instruments, and last night you were fully determined to receive
my first congratulations in the realm of shades."

"My sister," answered Euergetes, shrugging his shoulders, "was only
yesterday singing the praises of your uncultured plainness of speech; but
to-day it is your pleasure to speak in riddles like an Egyptian oracle."

"They cannot, however, be difficult to solve by you and your minions,"
replied Publius coldly, as he pointed to Eulaeus. "The serpents which you
command have powerful poisons and sharp fangs at their disposal; this
time, however, they mistook their victim, and have sent a poor recluse of
Serapis to Hades instead of one of their king's guests."

"Your enigma is harder than ever," cried the king. "My intelligence at
least is unequal to solve it, and I must request you to speak in less
dark language or else to explain your meaning."

"Later, I will," said Publius emphatically, "but these things concern
myself alone, and I stand here now commissioned by the State of Rome
which I serve. To-day Juventius Thalna will arrive here as ambassador
from the Republic, and this document from the Senate accredits me as its
representative until his arrival."

Euergetes took the sealed roll which Publius offered to him. While he
tore it open, and hastily looked through its contents, the door was again
thrown open and Hierax, the king's trusted friend, appeared on the
threshold with a flushed face and hair in disorder.