father was overseer of the temple granaries.  While I was wandering
abroad he was deposed from his office, and would probably have died in
prison, if a worthy man had not assisted him to save his honor and his
liberty.  All this does not concern you, and I may therefore keep it to
myself; but this man was the father of Klea and Irene, and the enemy by
whose instrumentality my father suffered innocently was the villain
Eulaeus.  You know--or perhaps indeed you may not know--that the priests
have to pay a certain tribute for the king's maintenance; you know?  To
be sure, you Romans trouble yourselves more about matters of law and
administration than the culture of the arts or the subtleties of thought.
Well, it was my father's duty to pay these customs over to Eulaeus, who
received them; but the beardless effeminate vermin, the glutton--may
every peach he ever ate or ever is to eat turn to poison!--kept back half
of what was delivered to him, and when the accountants found nothing but
empty air in the king's stores where they hoped to find corn and woven
goods, they raised an alarm, which of course came to the ears of the
powerful thief at court before it reached those of my poor father.  You
called Egypt a marvellous country, or something like it; and so in truth
it is, not merely on account of the great piles there that you call
Pyramids and such like, but because things happen here which in Rome
would be as impossible as moonshine at mid-day, or a horse with his tail
at the end of his nose!  Before a complaint could be laid against Eulaeus
he had accused my father of the peculation, and before the Epistates and
the assessor of the district had even looked at the indictment, their
judgment on the falsely accused man was already recorded, for Eulaeus had
simply bought their verdict just as a man buys a fish or a cabbage in the
market.  In olden times the goddess of justice was represented in this
country with her eyes shut, but now she looks round on the world like a
squinting woman who winks at the king with one eye, and glances with the
other at the money in the hand of the accuser or the accused.  My poor
father was of course condemned and thrown into prison, where he was
beginning to doubt the justice of the gods, when for his sake the
greatest wonder happened, ever seen in this land of wonders since first
the Greeks ruled in Alexandria.  An honorable man undertook without fear
of persons the lost cause of the poor condemned wretch, and never rested
till he had restored him to honor and liberty.  But imprisonment,
disgrace and indignation had consumed the strength of the ill-used man
as a worm eats into cedar wood, and he fell into a decline and died.  His
preserver, Klea's father, as the reward of his courageous action fared
even worse; for here by the Nile virtues are punished in this world, as
crimes are with you.  Where injustice holds sway frightful things occur,
for the gods seem to take the side of the wicked.  Those who do not
hope for a reward in the next world, if they are neither fools nor
philosophers--which often comes to the same thing--try to guard
themselves against any change in this.

"Philotas, the father of the two girls, whose parents were natives of
Syracuse, was an adherent of the doctrines of Zeno--which have many
supporters among you at Rome too--and he was highly placed as an
official, for he was president of the Chrematistoi, a college of judges
which probably has no parallel out of Egypt, and which has been kept up
better than any other.  It travels about from province to province
stopping in the chief towns to administer justice.  When an appeal is
brought against the judgment of the court of justice belonging to any
place--over which the Epistates of the district presides--the case is
brought before the Chrematistoi, who are generally strangers alike to
the accuser and accused; by them it is tried over again, and thus the
inhabitants of the provinces are spared the journey to Alexandria or--
since the country has been divided--to Memphis, where, besides, the
supreme court is overburdened with cases.

"No former president of the Chrematistoi had ever enjoyed a higher
reputation than Philotas.  Corruption no more dared approach him than a
sparrow dare go near a falcon, and he was as wise as he was just, for he
was no less deeply versed in the ancient Egyptian law than in that of the
Greeks, and many a corrupt judge reconsidered matters as soon as it
became known that he was travelling with the Chrematistoi, and passed a
just instead of an unjust sentence.

"Cleopatra, the widow of Epiphanes, while she was living and acting as
guardian of her sons Philometor and Euergetes--who now reign in Memphis
and Alexandria--held Philotas in the highest esteem and conferred on him
the rank of 'relation to the king'; but she was just dead when this
worthy man took my father's cause in hand, and procured his release from
prison.

"The scoundrel Eulaeus and his accomplice Lenaeus then stood at the
height of power, for the young king, who was not yet of age, let himself
be led by them like a child by his nurse.

"Now as my father was an honest man, no one but Eulaeus could be the
rascal, and as the Chrematistoi threatened to call him before their
tribunal the miserable creature stirred up the war in Caelo-Syria against
Antiochus Epiphanes, the king's uncle.

"You know how disgraceful for us was the course of that enterprise, how
Philometor was defeated near Pelusium, and by the advice of Eulaeus
escaped with his treasure to Samothrace, how Philometor's brother
Euergetes was set up as king in Alexandria, how Antiochus took Memphis,
and then allowed his elder nephew to continue to reign here as though he
were his vassal and ward.

"It was during  this  period  of humiliation, that Eulaeus was able to
evade Philotas, whom he may very well have feared, as though his own
conscience walked the earth on two legs in the person of the judge, with
the sword of justice in his hand, and telling all men what a scoundrel he
was.

"Memphis had opened her gates to Antiochus without offering much
resistance, and the Syrian king, who was a strange man and was fond of
mixing among the people as if he himself were a common man, applied to
Philotas, who was as familiar with Egyptian manners and customs as with
those of Greece, in order that he might conduct him into the halls of
justice and into the market-places; and he made him presents as was his
way, sometimes of mere rubbish and sometimes of princely gifts.

"Then when Philometor was freed by the Romans from the protection of the
Syrian king, and could govern in Memphis as an independent sovereign,
Eulaeus accused the father of these two girls of having betrayed Memphis
into the hands of Antiochus, and never rested till the innocent man was
deprived of his wealth, which was considerable, and sent with his wife to
forced labor in the gold mines of Ethiopia.

"When all this occurred I had already returned to my cage here; but I
heard from my brother Glaucus--who was captain of the watch in the
palace, and who learned a good many things before other people did--
what was going on out there, and I succeeded in having the daughters
of Philotas secretly brought to this temple, and preserved from sharing
their parents' fate.  That is now five years ago, and now you know how it
happens, that the daughters of a man of rank carry water for the altar of
Serapis, and that I would rather an injury should be done to me than to
them, and that I would rather see Eulaeus eating some poisonous root than
fragrant peaches."

"And is Philotas still working in the mines?"  asked the Roman, clenching
his teeth with rage.

"Yes, Publius," replied the anchorite.  "A 'yes' that it is easy to say,
and it is just as easy too to clench one's fists in indignation--but it
is hard to imagine the torments that must be endured by a man like
Philotas; and a noble and innocent woman--as beautiful as Hera and
Aphrodite in one--when they are driven to hard and unaccustomed labor
under a burning sun by the lash of the overseer.  Perhaps by this time
they have been happy enough to die under their sufferings and their
daughters are already orphans, poor children!  No one here but the high-
priest knows precisely who they are, for if Eulaeus were to learn the
truth he would send them after their parents as surely as my name is
Serapion."

"Let him try it!" cried Publius, raising his right fist threateningly.

"Softly, softly, my friend," said the recluse, "and not now only, but
about everything which you under take in behalf of the sisters, for a man
like Eulaeus hears not only with his own ears but with those of thousand
others, and almost everything that occurs at court has to go through his
hands as epistolographer.  You say the queen is well-disposed towards
you.  That is worth a great deal, for her husband is said to be guided by
her will, and such a thing as Eulaeus cannot seem particularly estimable
in Cleopatra's eyes if princesses are like other women--and I know them
well."

"And even if he were," interrupted Publius with glowing cheeks, "I would
bring him to ruin all the same, for a man like Philotas must not perish,
and his cause henceforth is my own.  Here is my hand upon it; and if I am
happy in having descended from a noble race it is above all because the
word of a son of the Cornelii is as good as the accomplished deed of any
other man."

The recluse grasped the right hand the young man gave him and nodded to
him affectionately, his eyes radiant, though moistened with joyful
emotion.  Then he hastily turned his back on the young man, and soon
reappeared with a large papyrus-roll in his hand.  "Take this," he said,
handing it to the Roman, "I have here set forth all that I have told you,
fully and truly with my own hand in the form of a petition.  Such
matters, as I very well know, are never regularly conducted to an issue
at court unless they are set forth in writing.  If the queen seems
disposed to grant you a wish give her this roll, and entreat her for a
letter of pardon.  If you can effect this, all is won."

Publius took the roll, and once more gave his hand to the anchorite, who,
forgetting himself for a moment, shouted out in his loud voice:

"May the gods bless thee, and by thy means work the release of the
noblest of men from his sufferings!  I had quite ceased to hope, but if
you come to our aid all is not yet wholly lost."




CHAPTER VI.

"Pardon me if I disturb you."

With these words the anchorite's final speech was interrupted by Eulaeus,
who had come in to the Pastophorium softly and unobserved, and who now
bowed respectfully to Publius.

"May I be permitted to enquire on what compact one of the noblest of the
sons of Rome is joining hands with this singular personage?"

"You are free to ask," replied Publius shortly and drily, "but every one
is not disposed to answer, and on the present occasion I am not.  I will
bid you farewell, Serapion, but not for long I believe."

"Am I permitted to accompany you?"  asked Eulaeus.

"You have followed me without any permission on my part."

"I did so by order of the king, and am only fulfilling his commands in
offering you my escort now."

"I shall go on, and I cannot prevent your following me."

"But I beg of you," said Eulaeus, "to consider that it would ill-become
me to walk behind you like a servant."

"I respect the wishes of my host, the king, who commanded you to follow
me," answered the Roman.  "At the door of the temple however you can get
into your chariot, and I into mine; an old courtier must be ready to
carry out the orders of his superior."

"And does carry them out," answered Eulaeus with deference, but his eyes
twinkled--as the forked tongue of a serpent is rapidly put out and still
more rapidly withdrawn--with a flash first of threatening hatred, and
then another of deep suspicion cast at the roll the Roman held in his
hand.

Publius heeded not this glance, but walked quickly towards the acacia-
grove; the recluse looked after the ill-matched pair, and as he watched
the burly Eulaeus following the young man, he put both his hands on his
hips, puffed out his fat cheeks, and burst into loud laughter as soon as
the couple had vanished behind the acacias.

When once Serapion's midriff was fairly tickled it was hard to reduce it
to calm again, and he was still laughing when Klea appeared in front of
his cell some few minutes after the departure of the Roman.  He was about
to receive his young friend with a cheerful greeting, but, glancing at
her face, he cried anxiously;

"You look as if you had met with a ghost; your lips are pale instead of
red, and there are dark shades round your eyes.  What has happened to
you, child?  Irene went with you to the procession, that I know.  Have
you had bad news of your parents?  You shake your head.  Come, child,
perhaps you are thinking of some one more than you ought; how the color
rises in your cheeks!  Certainly handsome Publius, the Roman, must have
looked into your eyes--a splendid youth is he--a fine young man--
a capital good fellow--"

"Say no more on that subject," Klea exclaimed, interrupting her friend
and protector, and waving her hand in the air as if to cut off the other
half of Serapion's speech.  "I can hear nothing more about him."

"Has he addressed you unbecomingly?"  asked the recluse.

"Yes!" said Klea, turning crimson, and with a vehemence quite foreign
to her usual gentle demeanor, "yes, he persecutes me incessantly with
challenging looks."

"Only with looks?"  said the anchorite.  "But we may look even at the
glorious sun and at the lovely flowers as much as we please, and they are
not offended."

"The sun is too high and the soulless flowers too humble for a man to
hurt them," replied Klea.  "But the Roman is neither higher nor lower
than I, the eye speaks as plain a language as the tongue, and what his
eyes demand of me brings the blood to my cheeks and stirs my indignation
even now when I only think of it."

"And that is why you avoid his gaze so carefully?"

"Who told you that?"

"Publius himself; and because he is wounded by your hard-heartedness he
meant to quit Egypt; but I have persuaded him to remain, for if there is
a mortal living from whom I expect any good for you and yours--"

"It is certainly not he," said Klea positively.  "You are a man, and
perhaps you now think that so long as you were young and free to wander
about the world you would not have acted differently from him--it is a
man's privilege; but if you could look into my soul or feel with the
heart of a woman, you would think differently.  Like the sand of the
desert which is blown over the meadows and turns all the fresh verdure to
a hideous brown-like a storm that transforms the blue mirror of the sea
into a crisped chaos of black whirl pools and foaming ferment, this man's
imperious audacity has cruelly troubled my peace of heart.  Four times
his eyes pursued me in the processions; yesterday I still did not
recognize my danger, but to-day--I must tell you, for you are like a
father to me, and who else in the world can I confide in?--to-day I was
able to avoid his gaze, and yet all through long endless hours of the
festival I felt his eyes constantly seeking mine.  I should have been
certain I was under no delusion, even if Publius Scipio--but what
business has his name on my lips?--even if the Roman had not boasted to
you of his attacks on a defenceless girl.  And to think that you, you of
all others, should have become his ally!  But you would not, no indeed
you would not, if you knew how I felt at the procession while I was
looking down at the ground, and knew that his very look desecrated me
like the rain that washed all the blossoms off the young vine-shoots last
year.  It was just as if he were drawing a net round my heart--but, oh!
what a net!  It was as if the flax on a distaff had been set on fire, and
the flames spun out into thin threads, and the meshes knotted of the
fiery yarn.  I felt every thread and knot burning into my soul, and could
not cast it off nor even defend myself.  Aye! you may look grieved and
shake your head, but so it was, and the scars hurt me still with a pain
I cannot utter."

"But Klea," interrupted Serapion, "you are quite beside yourself--like
one possessed.  Go to the temple and pray, or, if that is of no avail,
go to Asclepios or Anubis and have the demon cast out."

"I need none of your gods!"  answered the girl in great agitation.
"Oh!  I wish you had left me to my fate, and that we had shared the lot
of our parents, for what threatens us here is more frightful than having
to sift gold-dust in the scorching sun, or to crush quartz in mortars.
I did not come to you to speak about the Roman, but to tell you what the
high-priest had just disclosed to me since the procession ended."

"Well?"  asked Serapion eager and almost frightened, stretching out his
neck to put his head near to the girl's, and opening his eyes so wide
that the loose skin below them almost disappeared.

"First he told me," replied Klea, "how meagrely the revenues of the
temple are supplied--"

"That is quite true," interrupted the anchorite, "for Antiochus carried
off the best part of its treasure; and the crown, which always used to
have money to spare for the sanctuaries of Egypt, now loads our estates
with heavy tribute; but you, as it seems to me, were kept scantily
enough, worse than meanly, for, as I know--since it passed through my
hands--a sum was paid to the temple for your maintenance which would have
sufficed to keep ten hungry sailors, not speak of two little pecking
birds like you, and besides that you do hard service without any pay.
Indeed it would be a more profitable speculation to steal a beggar's rags
than to rob you!  Well, what did the high-priest want?"

"He says that we have been fed and protected by the priesthood for five
years, that now some danger threatens the temple on our account, and that
we must either quit the sanctuary or else make up our minds to take the
place of the twin-sisters Arsinoe and Doris who have hitherto been
employed in singing the hymns of lamentation, as Isis and Nephthys, by
the bier of the deceased god on the occasion of the festivals of the
dead, and in pouring out the libations with wailing and outcries when the
bodies were brought into the temple to be blessed.  These maidens,
Asclepiodorus says, are now too old and ugly for these duties, but the
temple is bound to maintain them all their lives.  The funds of the
temple are insufficient to support two more serving maidens besides them
and us, and so Arsinoe and Doris are only to pour out the libations for
the future, and we are to sing the laments, and do the wailing."

"But you are not twins!"  cried Serapion.  "And none but twins--so say
the ordinances--may mourn for Osiris as Isis and Neplithys."

"They will make twins of us!"  said Klea with a scornful turn of her lip.
"Irene's hair is to be dyed black like mine, and the soles of her sandals
are to be made thicker to make her as tall as I am."

"They would hardly succeed in making you smaller than you are, and it is
easier to make light hair dark than dark hair light," said Serapion with
hardly suppressed rage.  "And what answer did you give to these
exceedingly original proposals?"

"The only one I could very well give.  I said no--but I declared myself
ready, not from fear, but because we owe much to the temple, to perform
any other service with Irene, only not this one."

"And Asclepiodorus?"

"He said nothing unkind to me, and preserved his calm and polite demeanor
when I contradicted him, though he fixed his eyes on me several times in
astonishment as if he had discovered in me something quite new and
strange.  At last he went on to remind me how much trouble the temple
singing-master had taken with us, how well my low voice went with Irene's
high one, how much applause we might gain by a fine performance of the
hymns of lamentation, and how he would be willing, if we undertook the
duties of the twin-sisters, to give us a better dwelling and more
abundant food.  I believe he has been trying to make us amenable by
supplying us badly with food, just as falcons are trained by hunger.
Perhaps I am doing him an injustice, but I feel only too much disposed
to-day to think the worst of him and of the other fathers.  Be that as it
may; at any rate he made me no further answer when I persisted in my
refusal, but dismissed me with an injunction to present myself before him
again in three days' time, and then to inform him definitively whether
I would conform to his wishes, or if I proposed to leave the temple.
I bowed and went towards the door, and was already on the threshold when
he called me back once more, and said: 'Remember your parents and their
fate!'  He spoke solemnly, almost threateningly, but he said no more and
hastily turned his back on me.  What could he mean to convey by this
warning?  Every day and every hour I think of my father and mother,
and keep Irene in mind of them."

The recluse at these words sat muttering thoughtfully to himself for a
few minutes with a discontented air; then he said gravely:

"Asclepiodorus meant more by his speech than you think.  Every sentence
with which he dismisses a refractory subordinate is a nut of which the
shell must be cracked in order to get at the kernel.  When he tells you
to remember your parents and their sad fate, such words from his lips,
and under the present circumstances, can hardly mean anything else than
this: that you should not forget how easily your father's fate might
overtake you also, if once you withdrew yourselves from the protection of
the temple.  It was not for nothing that Asclepiodorus--as you yourself
told me quite lately, not more than a week ago I am sure--reminded you
how often those condemned to forced labor in the mines had their
relations sent after them.  Ah!  child, the words of Asclepiodorus have a
sinister meaning.  The calmness and pride, with which you look at me make
me fear for you, and yet, as you know, I am not one of the timid and
tremulous.  Certainly what they propose to you is repulsive enough, but
submit to it; it is to be hoped it will not be for long.  Do it for my
sake and for that of poor Irene, for though you might know how to assert
your dignity and take care of yourself outside these walls in the rough
and greedy world, little Irene never could.  And besides, Klea, my
sweetheart, we have now found some one, who makes your concerns his, and
who is great and powerful--but oh! what are three clays?  To think of
seeing you turned out--and then that you may be driven with a dissolute
herd in a filthy boat down to the burning south, and dragged to work
which kills first the soul and then the body!  No, it is not possible!
You will never let this happen to me--and to yourself and Irene; no, my
darling, no, my pet, my sweetheart, you cannot, you will not do so.  Are
you not my children, my daughters, my only joy?  and you, would you go
away, and leave me alone in my cage, all because you are so proud!"

The strong man's voice failed him, and heavy drops fell from his eyes one
after another down his beard, and on to Klea's arm, which he had grasped
with both hands.

The girl's eyes too were dim with a mist of warm tears when she saw her
rough friend weeping, but she remained firm and said, as she tried to
free her hand from his:

"You know very well, father Serapion, that there is much to tie me to
this temple; my sister, and you, and the door-keeper's child, little
Philo.  It would be cruel, dreadful to have to leave you; but I would
rather endure that and every other grief than allow Irene to take the
place of Arsinoe or the black Doris as wailing woman.  Think of that
bright child, painted and kneeling at the foot of a bier and groaning
and wailing in mock sorrow!  She would become a living lie in human form,
an object of loathing to herself, and to me--who stand in the place of a
mother to her--from morning till night a martyrizing reproach!  But what
do I care about myself--I would disguise myself as the goddess without
even making a wry face, and be led to the bier, and wail and groan so
that every hearer would be cut to the heart, for my soul is already
possessed by sorrow; it is like the eyes of a man, who has gone blind
from the constant flow of salt tears.  Perhaps singing the hymns of
lamentation might relieve my soul, which is as full of sorrow as an
overbrimming cup; but I would rather that a cloud should for ever darken
the sun, that mists should hide every star from my eyes, and the air I
breathe be poisoned by black smoke than disguise her identity, and darken
her soul, or let her clear laugh be turned to shrieks of lamentation, and
her fresh and childlike spirit be buried in gloomy mourning.  Sooner will
I go way with her and leave even you, to perish with my parents in misery
and anguish than see that happen, or suffer it for a moment."

As she spoke Serapion covered his face with his hands, and Klea, hastily
turning away from him, with a deep sigh returned to her room.

Irene was accustomed when she heard her step to hasten to meet her, but
to-day no one came to welcome her, and in their room, which was beginning
to be dark as twilight fell, she did not immediately catch sight of her
sister, for she was sitting all in a heap in a corner of the room, her
face hidden, in her hands and weeping quietly.

"What is the matter?"  asked Klea, going tenderly up to the weeping
child, over whom she bent, endeavoring to raise her.

"Leave me," said Irene sobbing; she turned away from her sister with an
impatient gesture, repelling her caress like a perverse child; and then,
when Klea tried to soothe her by affectionately stroking her hair, she
sprang up passionately exclaiming through her tears:

"I could not help crying--and, from this hour, I must always have to cry.
The Corinthian Lysias spoke to me so kindly after the procession, and
you--you don't care about me at all and leave me alone all this time in
this nasty dusty hole!  I declare I will not endure it any longer, and if
you try to keep me shut up, I will run away from this temple, for outside
it is all bright and pleasant, and here it is dingy and horrid!"




ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

A mere nothing in one man's life, to another may be great
A subdued tone generally provokes an equally subdued answer
Air of a professional guide
Before you serve me up so bitter a meal (the truth)
Blind tenderness which knows no reason
By nature she is not and by circumstances is compelled to be
Deceit is deceit
Desire to seek and find a power outside us
Inquisitive eyes are intrusive company
Many a one would rather be feared than remain unheeded
Not yet fairly come to the end of yesterday
The altar where truth is mocked at
Virtues are punished in this world
Who can be freer than he who needs nothing
Who only puts on his armor when he is threatened






THE SISTERS

By Georg Ebers

Volume 2.



CHAPTER VII.

In the very midst of the white wall with its bastions and ramparts, which
formed the fortifications of Memphis, stood the old palace of the kings,
a stately structure built of bricks, recently plastered, and with courts,
corridors, chambers and halls without number, and veranda-like out-
buildings of gayly-painted wood, and a magnificent pillared banqueting-
hall in the Greek style.  It was surrounded by verdurous gardens, and a
whole host of laborers tended the flower-beds and shady alleys, the
shrubs and the trees; kept the tanks clean and fed the fish in them;
guarded the beast-garden, in which quadrupeds of every kind, from the
heavy-treading elephant to the light-footed antelope, were to be seen,
associated with birds innumerable of every country and climate.

A light white vapor rose from the splendidly fitted bath-house, loud
barkings resounded from the dog-kennels, and from the long array of open
stables came the neighing of horses with the clatter and stamp of hoofs,
and the rattle of harness and chains.  A semicircular building of new
construction adjoining the old palace was the theatre, and many large
tents for the bodyguard, for ambassadors and scribes, as well as others,
serving as banqueting-halls for the various court-officials, stood both
within the garden and outside its enclosing walls.  A large space leading
from the city itself to the royal citadel was given up to the soldiers,
and there, by the side of the shady court-yards, were the houses of the
police-guard and the prisons.  Other soldiers were quartered in tents
close to the walls of the palace itself.  The clatter of their arms and
the words of command, given in Greek, by their captain, sounded out at
this particular instant, and up into the part of the buildings occupied
by the queen; and her apartments were high up, for in summer time
Cleopatra preferred to live in airy tents, which stood among the broad-
leaved trees of the south and whole groves of flowering shrubs, on the
level roof of the palace, which was also lavishly decorated with marble
statues.  There was only one way of access to this retreat, which was
fitted up with regal splendor; day and night it was fanned by currents of
soft air, and no one could penetrate uninvited to disturb the queen's
retirement, for veteran guards watched at the foot of the broad stair
that led to the roof, chosen from the Macedonian "Garde noble," and owing
as implicit obedience to Cleopatra as to the king himself.  This select
corps was now, at sunset, relieving guard, and the queen could hear the
words spoken by the officers in command and the clatter of the shields
against the swords as they rattled on the pavement, for she had come out
of her tent into the open air, and stood gazing towards the west, where
the glorious hues of the sinking sun flooded the bare, yellow limestone
range of the Libyan hills, with their innumerable tombs and the separate
groups of pyramids; while the wonderful coloring gradually tinged with
rose-color the light silvery clouds that hovered in the clear sky over
the valley of Memphis, and edged them as with a rile of living gold.

The queen stepped out of her tent, accompanied by a young Greek girl--the
fair Zoe, daughter of her master of the hunt Zenodotus, and Cleopatra's
favorite lady-in-waiting--but though she looked towards the west, she
stood unmoved by the magic of the glorious scene before her; she screened
her eyes with her hand to shade them from the blinding rays, and said:

"Where can Cornelius be staying!  When we mounted our chariots before the
temple he had vanished, and as far as I can see the road in the quarters
of Sokari and Serapis I cannot discover his vehicle, nor that of Eulaeus
who was to accompany him.  It is not very polite of him to go off in this
way without taking leave; nay, I could call it ungrateful, since I had
proposed to tell him on our way home all about my brother Euergetes, who
has arrived to-day with his friends.  They are not yet acquainted, for
Euergetes was living in Cyrene when Publius Cornelius Scipio landed in
Alexandria.  Stay! do you see a black shadow out there by the vineyard at
Kakem; That is very likely he; but no--you are right, it is only some
birds, flying in a close mass above the road.  Can you see nothing more?
No!--and yet we both have sharp young eyes.  I am very curious to know
whether Publius Scipio will like Euergetes.  There can hardly be two
beings more unlike, and yet they have some very essential points in
common."

"They are both men," interrupted Zoe, looking at the queen as if she
expected cordial assent to this proposition.

"So they are," said Cleopatra proudly.  "My brother is still so young
that, if he were not a king's son, he would hardly have outgrown the
stage of boyhood, and would be a lad among other Epheboi,--[Youths above
18 were so called]--and yet among the oldest there is hardly a man who is
his superior in strength of will and determined energy.  Already, before
I married Philometor, he had clutched Alexandria and Cyrene, which by
right should belong to my husband, who is the eldest of us three, and
that was not very brotherly conduct--and indeed we had other grounds for
being angry with him; but when I saw him again for the first time after
nine months of separation I was obliged to forget them all, and welcome
him as though he had done nothing but good to me and his brother--who is
my husband, as is the custom of the families of Pharaohs and the usage of
our race.  He is a young Titan, and no one would be astonished if he one
day succeeded in piling Pelion upon Ossa.  I know well enough how wild he
can often be, how unbridled and recalcitrant beyond all bounds; but I can
easily pardon him, for the same bold blood flows in my own veins, and at
the root of all his excesses lies power, genuine and vigorous power.  And
this innate pith and power are just the very thing we most admire in men,
for it is the one gift which the gods have dealt out to us with a less
liberal hand than to men.  Life indeed generally dams its overflowing
current, but I doubt whether this will be the case with the stormy
torrent of his energy; at any rate men such as he is rush swiftly
onwards, and are strong to the end, which sooner or later is sure to
overtake them; and I infinitely prefer such a wild torrent to a shallow
brook flowing over a plain, which hurts no one, and which in order to
prolong its life loses itself in a misty bog.  He, if any one, may be
forgiven for his tumultuous career; for when he pleases my brother's
great qualities charm old and young alike, and are as conspicuous and as
remarkable as his faults--nay, I will frankly say his crimes.  And who in
Greece or Egypt surpasses him in grasp and elevation of mind?"

You may well be proud of him," replied Zoe.  Not even Publius Scipio
himself can soar to the height reached by Euergetes."

"But, on the other hand, Euergetes is not gifted with the steady, calm
self-reliance of Cornelius.  The man who should unite in one person the
good qualities of those two, need yield the palm, as it seems to me, not
even to a god!"

"Among us imperfect mortals he would indeed be the only perfect one,"
replied Zoe.  "But the gods could not endure the existence of a perfect
man, for then they would have to undertake the undignified task of
competing with one of their own creatures."

"Here, however, comes one whom no one can accuse!"  cried the young
queen, as she hastened to meet a richly dressed woman, older than
herself, who came towards her leading her son, a pale child of two years
old.  She bent down to the little one, tenderly but with impetuous
eagerness, and was about to clasp him in her arms, but the fragile child,
which at first had smiled at her, was startled; he turned away from her
and tried to hide his little face in the dress of his nurse--a lady of
rank-to whom he clung with both hands.  The queen threw herself on her
knees before him, took hold of his shoulder, and partly by coaxing and
partly by insistence strove to induce him to quit the sheltering gown and
to turn to her; but although the lady, his wet-nurse, seconded her with
kind words of encouragement, the terrified child began to cry, and
resisted his mother's caresses with more and more vehemence the more
passionately she tried to attract and conciliate him.  At last the nurse
lifted him up, and was about to hand him to his mother, but the wilful
little boy cried more than before, and throwing his arms convulsively
round his nurse's neck he broke into loud cries.

In the midst of this rather unbecoming struggle of the mother against the
child's obstinacy, the clatter of wheels and of horses' hoofs rang
through the court-yard of the palace, and hardly had the sound reached
the queen's ears than she turned away from the screaming child, hurried
to the parapet of the roof, and called out to Zoe:

"Publius Scipio is here; it is high time that I should dress for the
banquet.  Will that naughty child not listen to me at all?  Take him
away, Praxinoa, and understand distinctly that I am much dissatisfied
with you.  You estrange my own child from me to curry favor with the
future king.  That is base, or else it proves that you have no tact, and
are incompetent for the office entrusted to you.  The office of wet-nurse
you duly fulfilled, but I shall now look out for another attendant for
the boy.  Do not answer me! no tears!  I have had enough of that with the
child's screaming."  With these words, spoken loudly and passionately,
she turned her back on Praxinoa--the wife of a distinguished Macedonian
noble, who stood as if petrified--and retired into her tent, where
branched lamps had just been placed on little tables of elegant
workmanship.  Like all the other furniture in the queen's dressing-tent
these were made of gleaming ivory, standing out in fine relief from the
tent-cloth which was sky-blue woven with silver lilies and ears of corn,
and from the tiger-skins which covered all the cushions, while white
woollen carpets, bordered with a waving scroll in blue, were spread on
the ground.

The queen threw herself on a seat in front of her dressing-table, and sat
staring at herself in a mirror, as if she now saw her face and her
abundant, reddish-fair hair for the first time; then she said, half
turning to Zoe and half to her favorite Athenian waiting-maid, who stood
behind her with her other women:

"It was folly to dye my dark hair light; but now it may remain so, for
Publius Scipio, who has no suspicion of our arts, thought this color
pretty and uncommon, and never will know its origin.  That Egyptian
headdress with the vulture's head which the king likes best to see me in,
the young Greek Lysias and the Roman too, call barbaric, and so every one
must call it who is not interested in the Egyptians.  But to-night we are
only ourselves, so I will wear the chaplet of golden corn with sapphire
grapes.  Do you think, Zoe, that with that I could wear the dress of
transparent bombyx silk that came yesterday from Cos?  But no, I will not
wear that, for it is too slight a tissue, it hides nothing and I am now
too thin for it to become me.  All the lines in my throat show, and my
elbows are quite sharp--altogether I am much thinner.  That comes of
incessant worry, annoyance, and anxiety.  How angry I was yesterday at
the council, because my husband will always give way and agree and try to
be pleasant; whenever a refusal is necessary I have to interfere,
unwilling as I am to do it, and odious as it is to me always to have to
stir up discontent, disappointment, and disaffection, to take things on
myself and to be regarded as hard and heartless in order that my husband
may preserve undiminished the doubtful glory of being the gentlest and
kindest of men and princes.  My son's having a will of his own leads to
agitating scenes, but even that is better than that Philopator should
rush into everybody's arms.  The first thing in bringing up a boy should
be to teach him to say 'no.'  I often say 'yes' myself when I should not,
but I am a woman, and yielding becomes us better than refusal--and what
is there of greater importance to a woman than to do what becomes her
best, and to seem beautiful?

"I will decide on this pale dress, and put over it the net-work of gold
thread with sapphire knots; that will go well with the head-dress.  Take
care with your comb, Thais, you are hurting me!  Now--I must not chatter
any more.  Zoe, give me the roll yonder; I must collect my thoughts a
little before I go down to talk among men at the banquet.  When we have
just come from visiting the realm of death and of Serapis, and have been
reminded of the immortality of the soul and of our lot in the next world,
we are glad to read through what the most estimable of human thinkers has
said concerning such things.  Begin here, Zoe."