by Georg Ebers
CHAPTER X.
The tempest swept howling from the north across the island of Pharos,and the shallows of Diabathra in the great harbour of Alexandria. Thewater, usually so placid, rose in high waves, and the beacon on thelighthouse of Sastratus sent the rent abundance of its flames withhostile impetuosity towards the city. The fires in the pitch-pansand the torches on the shore sometimes seemed on the point of beingextinguished, at others burst with a doubly brilliant blaze through thesmoke which obscured them.
The royal harbour, a fine basin which surrounded in the form of asemicircle the southern part of the Lochias and a portion of thenorthern shore of the Bruchium, was brightly illuminated every night;but this evening there seemed to be an unusual movement among the lightson its western shore, the private anchorage of the royal fleet.
Was it the storm that stirred them? No. How could the wind have setone torch in the place of another, and moved lights or lanterns in adirection opposite to its violent course? Only a few persons, however,perceived this; for, though joyous anticipation or anxious fears urgedmany thither, who would venture upon the quay on such a tempestuousnight? Besides, no one would have found admittance to the royal port,which was closed on all sides. Even the mole which, towards the west,served as the string to the bow of land surrounding it, had but a singleopening and--as every one knew--that was closed by a chain in the sameway as the main entrance to the harbour between the Pharos and AlveusSteganus.
About two hours before midnight, spite of the increasing fury of thetempest, the singular movement of the lights diminished, but rarely hadthe hearts of those for whom they burned throbbed so anxiously.These were the dignitaries and court officials who stood nearest toCleopatra--about twenty men and a single woman, Iras. Mardion and shehad summoned them because the Queen's letter permitted those to whomshe had given authority to offer her a quiet reception. After a longconsultation they had not invited the commanders of the little Romangarrison left behind. It was doubtful whether those whom they expectedwould return that night, and the Roman soldiers who were loyal to Antonyhad gone with him to the war.
The hall in the centre of the private roadstead of the royal harbour,where they had assembled, was furnished with regal magnificence; for itwas a favourite resort of the Queen. The spacious apartment lackedno requisite of comfort, and most of those who were waiting used thewell-cushioned couches, while others, harassed by mental anxiety, pacedto and fro.
As the room had remained unused for months, bats had made nests there,and now that it was lighted, dazzled by the glare of the lamps andcandles, they darted to and fro above the heads of the assembly. Irashad ordered the commander of the Mellakes, or youths, a body-guardcomposed of the sons of aristocratic Macedonian families, to expel thetroublesome creatures, and it diverted the thoughts of these devotedsoldiers of the Queen to strike at them with their swords.
Others preferred to watch this futile battle rather than give themselvesup to the anxiety which filled their minds. The Regent was gazing mutelyat the ground; Iras, pale and absent-minded, was listening to Zeno'sstatements; and Archibius had gone out of doors, and, unheeding thestorm, was looking across the tossing waves of the harbour for theexpected ships.
In a wooden shed, whose roof was supported by gaily painted pillars,through which the wind whistled, the servants, from the porters to thelitter-bearers, had gathered in groups under the flickering light of thelanterns. The Greeks sat on wooden stools, the Egyptians upon mats onthe floor. The largest circle contained the parties who attended to theQueen's luggage and the upper servants, among whom were several maids.
They had been told that the Queen was expected that night, because itwas possible that the strong north wind would bear her ship home withunexpected speed after the victory. But they were better informed:palaces have chinks in doors and curtains, and are pervaded by a verypeculiar echo which bears even a whisper distinctly from ear to ear.
The body-slave of the commander-in-chief Seleukus was the principalspokesman. His master had reached Alexandria but a few hours ago fromthe frontier fortress of Pelusium, which he commanded. A mysteriousorder from Lucilius, Antony's most faithful friend, brought fromTaenarum by a swift galley, had summoned him hither.
The freedman Beryllus, a loquacious Sicilian, who, as an actor, had seenbetter days ere pirates robbed him of his liberty, had heard many newthings, and his hearers listened eagerly; for ships coming from thenorth, which touched at Pelusium, had confirmed and completed the eviltidings that had penetrated the Sebasteum.
According to his story, he was as well informed as if he had been aneye-witness of the naval battle; for he had been present during hismaster's conversation with many ship-captains and messengers fromGreece. He even assumed the air of a loyal, strictly silent servant, whowould only venture to confirm and deny what the Alexandrians had alreadylearned. Yet his knowledge consisted merely of a confused medley offalse and true occurrences. While the Egyptian fleet had been defeatedat Actium, and Antony, flying with Cleopatra, had gone first to Taenarumat the end of the Peloponnesian coast, he asserted that the army andfleet had met on the Peloponnesian coast and Octavianus was pursuingAntony, who had turned towards Athens, while Cleopatra was on her way toAlexandria.
His "trustworthy intelligence" had been patched together from a fewwords caught from Seleukus at table, or while receiving and dismissingmessengers. In other matters his information was more accurate.
While for several days the harbour of Alexandria had been closed,vessels were permitted to enter Pelusium, and all captains of newlyarrived ships and caravans were compelled to report to Beryllus'smaster, the commandant of the important frontier fortress.
He had quitted Pelusium the night before. The strong wind had driventhe trireme before it so swiftly that it was difficult for even the seagulls to follow. It was easy for the listeners to believe this; for thestorm outside howled louder and louder, whistling through the open hallwhere the servants had gathered. Most of the lamps and torches had beenblown out, the pitch-pans only sent forth still blacker clouds of smoke,lit by red and yellow flames, and the closed lanterns alone continuedto diffuse a flickering light. So the wide space, dim with smoke, wasillumined only by a dull, varying glimmer.
One of the porters had furnished wine to shorten the hours of waiting;but it could only be drunk in secret, so there were no goblets. The jarswandered from mouth to mouth, and every sip was welcome, for the windblew keenly, and besides, the smoke irritated their throats.
The freedman, Beryllus, was often interrupted by paroxysms of coughing,especially from the women, while relating the evil omens which were toldto his master in Pelusium. Each was well authenticated and surpassed itspredecessor in significance.
Here one of Iras's maids interrupted him to tell the story of theswallows on the "Antonius," Cleopatra's admiral galley. He couldscarcely report from Pelusium an omen of darker presage.
But Beryllus gazed at her with a pitying smile, which so roused theexpectations of the others that the overseer of the litter and baggageporters, who were talking loudly together, hoarsely shouted, "Silence!"
Soon no sound was heard in the open space save the shrill whistling ofthe wind, a word of command to the harbour-guards, and the freedman'svoice, which he lowered to increase the charm of the mysterious eventshe was describing.
He began with the most fulsome praise of Cleopatra and Antony, remindinghis hearers that the Imperator was a descendant of Herakles. TheAlexandrians especially were aware that their Queen and Antony claimedand desired to be called "The new Isis" and "The new Dionysus." Butevery one who beheld the Roman must admit that in face and figure heresembled a god far more than a man.
The Imperator had appeared as Dionysus, especially to the Athenians. Inthe proscenium of the theatre in that city was a huge bas-relief ofthe Battle of the Giants, the famous work of an ancient sculptor--he,Beryllus, had seen it--and from amid the numerous figures in this pieceof sculpture the tempest had torn but a single one--which? Dionysus, thegod as wh
ose mortal image Antony had once caroused in a vine-clad arbourin the presence of the Athenians. The storm to-night was at the utmostlike the breath of a child, compared with the hurricane which couldwrest from the hard marble the form of Dionysus. But Nature gathers allher forces when she desires to announce to short-sighted mortals theapproach of events which are to shake the world.
The last words were quoted from his master who had studied in Athens.They had escaped from his burdened soul when he heard of anotherportent, of which a ship from Ostia had brought tidings. The flourishingcity Pisaura--
Here, however, he was interrupted, for several of those present hadlearned, weeks before, that this place had sunk in the sea, but merelypitied the unfortunate inhabitants.
Beryllus quietly permitted them to free themselves from the suspicionthat people in Alexandria had had tidings of so remarkable an eventlater than those in Pelusium, and at first answered their query whatthis had to do with the war merely by a shrug of the shoulders; but whenthe overseer of the porters also put the question, he went on "Theomen made a specially deep impression upon our minds, for we know whatPisaura is, or rather how it came into existence. The hapless city whichdark Hades ingulfed really belonged to Antony, for in the days of itsprosperity he was its founder."
He measured the group with a defiant glance, and there was no lack ofevidences of horror; nay, one of the maid-servants shrieked aloud, forthe storm had just snatched a torch from the iron rings in the wall andhurled it on the floor close beside the listener.
Suspense seemed to have reached its height. Yet it was evident thatBeryllus had not yet drawn his last arrow from the quiver.
The maid-servant, whose scream had startled the others, had regainedher composure and seemed eager to hear some other new and terrible omen,for, with a beseeching glance, she begged the freedman not to withholdthe knew.
He pointed to the drops of perspiration which, spite of the windsweeping through the hall, covered her brow: "You must use yourhandkerchief. Merely listening to my tale will dampen your skin. Stonestatues are made of harder material, but a soul dwells within them too.Their natures may be harsher or more gentle; they bring us woe or healheavy sorrows, according to their mood. Every one learns this who raiseshis hands to them in prayer. One of these statues stands in Alba. Itrepresents Mark Antony, in whose honour it was erected by the city. Andit foresaw what menaced the man whose stone double it is. Ay, open yourears! About four days ago a ship's captain came to my master and inmy presence this man reported--he grew as pale as ashes while hespoke--what he himself had witnessed. Drops of perspiration had oozedfrom the statue of Antony in Alba. Horror seized all the citizens; menand women came to wipe the brow and cheeks of the statue, but the dropsof perspiration did not cease to drip, and this continued several daysand nights. The stone image had felt what was impending over the livingMark Antony. It was a horrible spectacle, the man said."
Here the speaker paused, and the group of listeners started, for theclang of a gong was heard outside, and the next instant all were ontheir feet hastening to their posts.
The officials in the magnificent hall had also risen. Here the silencehad been interrupted only by low whispers. The colour had faded frommost of the grave, anxious faces, and their timid glances shunned oneanother.
Archibius had first perceived, by the flames of the Pharos, the redglimmer which announced the approach of the royal galley. It had notbeen expected so early, but was already passing the islands into thegreat harbour. It was probably the Antonius, the ship on which the oldswallows had pecked the young ones to death.
Though the waves were running high, even in the sheltered harbour,they scarcely rocked the massive vessel. An experienced pilot musthave steered it past the shallows and cliffs on the eastern side of theroadstead, for instead of passing around the island of Antirrhodus asusual, it kept between the island and the Lochias, steering straighttowards the entrance into the little royal harbour. The pitch-pans onboth sides had been filled with fresh resin and tow to light the way.The watchers on the shore could now see its outlines distinctly.
It was the Antonius, and yet it was not.
Zeno, the Keeper of the Seal, who was standing beside Iras, wrapped hiscloak closer around his shivering limbs, pointed to it, and whispered,
"Like a woman who leaves her parents' house in the rich array of abride, and returns to it an impoverished widow."
Iras drew herself up, and with cutting harshness replied, "Like the sunveiled by mists, but which will soon shine forth again more radiantlythan ever."
"Spoken from the depths of my soul," said the old courtier eagerly,"so far as the Queen is concerned. Of course, I did not allude toher Majesty, but to the ship. You were ill when it left the harbour,garlanded with flowers and adorned with purple sails. And now! Even thisflickering light shows the wounds and rents. I am the last person whomyou need tell that our sun Cleopatra will soon regain its old radiance,but at present it is very chilly and cold here by the water's edge inthis stormy air; and when I think of our first moment of meeting--
"Would it were over!" murmured Iras, wrapping herself closer in hercloak. Then she drew back shivering, for the rattle of the heavy chain,which was drawn aside from the opening of the harbour, echoed with anuncanny sound through the silence of the night. A mountain seemed toweigh upon the watchers' breasts, for the wooden monster which nowentered the little harbour moved forward as slowly and silently as aspectral ship. It seemed as if life were extinct on the huge galleyusually swarming with a numerous crew; as if a vessel were about to castanchor whose sailors had fallen victims to the plague. Nothing washeard save an occasional word of command, and the signal whistles ofthe fluteplayer who directed the rowers. A few lanterns burned witha wavering light on the vast length of her decks. The brilliantillumination which usually shone through the darkness would haveattracted the attention of the Alexandrians.
Now it was close to the landing. The group on shore watched every inchof its majestic progress with breathless suspense, but when the firstrope was flung to the slaves on shore several men in Greek robes pressedforward hurriedly among the courtiers.
They had come with a message, whose importance would permit no delay, tothe Regent Mardion, who stood between Zeno and Iras, gazing gloomilyat the ground with a frowning brow. He was pondering over the words inwhich to address the Queen, and within a few minutes the ship would havemade her landing, and Cleopatra might cross the bridge. To disturb himat that moment was an undertaking few who knew the irritable, uncertaintemper of the eunuch would care to risk. But the tall Macedonian, whofor a short time attracted the eyes of most of the spectators from thegalley, ventured to do so. It was the captain of the nightwatch, thearistocratic commander of the police force of the city.
"Only a word, my lord," he whispered to the Regent, "though the time maybe inopportune."
"As inopportune as possible," replied the eunuch with repellentharshness.
"We will say as inopportune as the degree of haste necessary for itsdecision. The King Caesarion, with Antyllus and several companions,attacked a woman. Blackened faces. A fight. Caesarion and the woman'scompanion--an aristocrat, member of the Council--slightly wounded.Lictors interfered just in time. The young gentlemen were arrested. Atfirst they refused to give their names--"
"Caesarion slightly, really only slightly wounded?" asked the eunuchwith eager haste.
"Really and positively. Olympus was summoned at once. A knock onthe head. The man who was attacked flung him on the pavement in thestruggle."
"Dion, the son of Eumenes, is the man," interrupted Iras, whose quickear had caught the officer's report. "The woman is Barine, the daughterof the artist Leonax."
"Then you know already?" asked the Macedonian in surprise.
"So it seems," answered Mardion, gazing into the girl's face with asignificant glance. Then, turning to her rather than to the Macedonian,he added, "I think we will have the young rascals set free and broughtto Lochias with as little publicity as possible.
"
"To the palace?" asked the Macedonian.
"Of course," replied Iras firmly. "Each to his own apartments, wherethey must remain until further orders."
"Everything else must be deferred until after the reception," added theeunuch, and the Macedonian, with a slight, haughty nod, drew back.
"Another misfortune," sighed the eunuch.
"A boyish prank," Iras answered quickly, "but even a still greatermisfortune is less than nothing so long as we are not conscious of it.This unpleasant occurrence must be concealed for the present from theQueen. Up to this time it is a vexation, nothing more--and it can andmust remain so; for we have it in our power to uproot the poisonous treewhence it emanates."
"You look as if no one could better perform the task," the Regentinterrupted, with a side glance at the galley, "so you shall have thecommission. It is the last one I shall give, during the Queen's absence,in her name."
"I shall not fail," she answered firmly.
When Iras again looked towards the landing-place she saw Archibiusstanding alone, with his eyes fixed upon the ground. Impulse promptedher to tell her uncle what had happened; but at the first step shepaused, and her thin lips uttered a firm "No."
Her friend had become a stone in her path. If necessary, she would findmeans to thrust him also aside, spite of his sister Charmian and theold tie which united him to Cleopatra. He had grown weak, Charmian hadalways been so.
She would have had time enough now to consider what step to take first,had not her heart ached so sorely.
After the huge galley lay moored, several minutes elapsed ere twopastophori of the goddess Isis, who guarded the goblet of Nektanebus,taken from the temple treasures and borne along in a painted chest,stepped upon the bridge, followed by Cleopatra's first chamberlain,who in a low tone announced the approach of the Queen and commandedthe waiting groups to make way. A double line of torch-bearers had beenstationed from the landing to the gate leading into the Bruchium, andthe other on the north, which was the entrance to the palaces on theLochias, since it was not known where Cleopatra would desire to go. Thechamberlain, however, said that she would spend the night at Lochias,where the children lived, and ordered all the flickering, smokingtorches, save a few, to be extinguished.
Mardion, the Keeper of the Seal, Archibius, and Iras were standing bythe bridge a little in advance of the others, when voices were heard onthe ship, and the Queen appeared, preceded by several lantern-bearersand followed by a numerous train of court officials, pages, maids, andfemale slaves. Cleopatra's little hand rested on Charmian's arm, as,with a haughty carriage of the head, she moved towards the shore. Athick veil covered her face, and a large, dark cloak concealed herfigure. How elastic her step was still! how proud yet graceful was thegesture with which she waved a greeting to Mardion and Zeno.
Extending her hand to raise Iras, who had sunk prostrate before her, shekissed her on the forehead, whispering, "The children?"
"All is well with them," replied the girl.
Then the returning sovereign greeted the others with a gracious gesture,but vouchsafed a word to no one until the eunuch stepped before herto deliver his address of welcome. She motioned him aside with a curt"Later"; and when Zeno held open the door of the litter, she said ina stifled tone: "I will walk. After the rocking of the galley in thistempest, I feel reluctant to enter the litter. There are many thingsto be considered to-day. An idea came to me on the way home. Summon thecaptain of the harbour and his chief counsellors, the heads of the waroffice, the superintendent of the fortifications on land and water,especially the Aristarch and Gorgias--I want to see them. Time presses.They must be here in two hours-no, in an hour and a half. I wish toexamine all their plans and charts of the eastern frontier, especiallythe river channels and canals in the Delta."
Then she turned to Archibius, who had approached the litter, laid herhand upon his arm, and though her veil prevented him from seeing hersparkling eyes, he felt them shining deep into his heart, as the voicewhose melody had often enthralled his soul cried, "We will take it asa favourable omen that it is again you who lead me to this palace in atime of trouble."
His overflowing heart found expression in the warm reply, "Wheneverit may be, forever and ever this arm and this life are yours!" And theQueen answered in a tone of earnest belief, "I know it."
Then, with her hand still resting on his arm, she moved forward; butwhen he began to ask whether she really had cause to speak of a timeof trouble, she cut him short with the entreaty "Not now. Let us saynothing. It is worse than bad--as evil as possible. Yet no. Few arepermitted, in an hour of trouble, to lean on the arm of a faithfulfriend."
The words were accompanied with a light pressure of her little hand, andit seemed as if his old heart was growing young.
He dared not speak, for her wish was law; but while moving silently ather side, first along the shore, then through the gate, and finally overthe marble flagstones which led to the palace portal, it seemed as ifhe beheld, instead of the veiled head of the hapless Queen, the soft,light-brown locks which floated around the face of a happy child. Beforehis mental vision rose the little mistress of the garden of Epicurus. Hesaw the sparkle of her large blue eyes, which never ceased to question,yet appeared to contain the mystery of the world. He fancied he heardonce more the silvery cadence of her voice and the bewitching magic ofher pure, childlike laughter, and it was hard to remember what she hadbecome.
Snatched away from the present, yet conscious that Fate had granted hima great boon in this sorrowful hour, he moved on at her side and led herthrough the main entrance, the spacious inner court-yard of the palace.At the rear was the great door opening into the Queen's apartments,before which Mardion, Iras, and their companions had already stationedthemselves. At the left was a smaller one leading into the wing occupiedby the children.
Archibius was about to conduct Cleopatra across the lighted court-yard,but she motioned towards the children's rooms, and he understood her.
At the threshold her hand fell from his arm, and when he bowed as ifto retire, she said kindly: "There is Charmian. You both deserve toaccompany me to the spot where childhood is dreaming and peace ofmind and painlessness have their abode. But respect for the Queen hasprevented the brother and sister from greeting each other after so longa separation. Do so now! Then, follow me."
While speaking, she hastened with the swift step of youth into theatrium and up the staircase which led to the sleeping-rooms of theprinces and princesses.
Archibius and Charmian obeyed her bidding; the brother clasped hissister affectionately in his arms, and in hurried tones, with tearsstreaming from her eyes, she informed him that to her all seemed lost.
Antony had behaved in a manner for which no words of condemnation orregret were adequate. Probably he would follow Cleopatra; the fleet,and perhaps the army also, were destroyed. Her fate lay in the hands ofOctavianus.
Then she preceded him towards the staircase, where Iras was standingwith a tall Syrian, who bore a striking resemblance to Philostratus,Barine's former husband. It was his brother Alexas, the trustedfavourite of Mark Antony. His place should now have been with him, andArchibius asked his sister with a hasty look how this man chanced to bein the Queen's train.
"His skill in reading the stars," was the reply. "His flattering tongue.He is a parasite of the worst kind, but he tells her many things, hediverts her, and she tolerates him near her person."
As soon as Iras saw the direction in which Cleopatra had turned, she hadhastened after her to accompany her to the children. The Syrian Alexashad stopped her to express his joy in meeting her again. Even before theoutbreak of the war he had devoted himself zealously to her, and he nowplainly showed that during the long period of separation his feelingshad by no means cooled. Like his brother, he had a head too small forhis body, but his well-formed features were animated by a pair of eyessparkling with a keen, covetous expression.
Iras, too, seemed glad to welcome the favourite, but ere the brother andsister
reached the staircase she left him to embrace Charmian, her auntand companion, with the affection of a daughter.
They found the Queen in the anteroom of the children's apartments.Euphronion, their tutor, had awaited her there, and hurriedly gave, inthe most rapturous terms, his report of them and the wonderful giftswhich became more and more apparent in each, now as a heritage fromtheir mother, now from their father.
Cleopatra had interrupted the torrent of his enthusiastic speech withmany a question, meanwhile endeavouring to loose the veil wound abouther head; but the little hands, unaccustomed to the task, failed. Irasnoticed it from the stairs and, hastening up the last steps, skilfullyreleased her from the long web of lace.
The Queen acknowledged the service by a gracious nod, but when the chiefeunuch opened the door leading into the children's rooms, she calledjoyously to the brother and sister, "Come!" The tutor, who was obligedto leave the charge of his pupils' sleeping apartments to the eunuchsand nurses, drew back, but Iras felt it a bitter affront to be excludedfrom this visit. Her cheeks flushed and paled; her thin lips were morefirmly compressed, and she gazed intently at the basket of fruit inthe mosaic floor at her feet as if she were counting the cherriesthat filled it. But she suddenly pushed the little curls back from herforehead, darted swiftly down the stairs, and called to Alexas just ashe was about to leave the atrium.
The Syrian hastened towards her, extolling the good fortune that madehis sun rise for him a second time that night, but she cut him shortwith the words; "Cease this foolish love-making. It would be far betterfor us both to become allies in serious, bitter earnest. I am ready."
"So am I!" cried the Syrian rapturously, pressing his hand upon hisheart.
Meanwhile Cleopatra had entered the chamber where the children laysleeping. Deep silence pervaded the lofty hall hung with bright-huedcarpets, and softly lighted by three lamps with rose-colored globes. Anarch, supported by pillars of Libyan marble, divided the wide space. Inthe first, near a window closely muffled with draperies, stood two ivorybeds, surmounted with crowns of gold and silver set with pearls andturquoises. Around the edge, carved by the hands of a great artist, rana line of happy children dancing to the songs of birds in blossomingbushes.
The couches were separated by a heavy curtain which the eunuchs hadraised at the approach of the Queen. Cleopatra could now see them all ata single glance, and the picture was indeed one of exquisite charm; foron these beautiful couches slept the twins, the ten-year-old children ofCleopatra and Antony--Antonius Helios and Cleopatra Selene. The girl waspink and white, fair and wonderfully lovely; the boy no less beautiful,but with ebon-black hair, like his father. Both curly heads were turnedtowards the side, and rested on a dimpled hand pressed upon the silkenpillow.
Upon a third bed, beyond the arch, was Alexander, the youngest prince, alovely boy of six, the Queen's darling.
After gazing a long while at the twins, and pressing a light kiss uponcheeks flushed with slumber, she turned to the youngest child and sankbeside his couch as if forced to bend the knee before some apparitionwhich Heaven had vouchsafed to her. Tears streamed from her eyes as,drawing the child carefully towards her, she kissed his mouth, eyes,and cheeks, and then laid him gently back upon the pillows. The boy,however, did not instantly relapse into slumber, but threw his littleplump arms around his mother's neck, murmuring incomprehensible words.She joyously submitted to his caresses, till sleep again overpoweredhim, and his little hands fell back upon the bed.
She lingered a short time longer, with her brow resting on the ivory ofthe couch, praying for this child and his brother and sister. When sherose again her cheeks were wet with tears, and she pressed her handupon her breast. Then, beckoning to Charmian and Archibius, she motionedtowards Alexander and the twins, saying, as she saw tears glittering inthe eyes of both: "I know you have lost this happiness for my sake. Foreach one of these children a great empire would not be too high a price;for them all----What does earth contain that I would not bestow? Yetwhat can I still call my own?"
Her smiling face clouded as she asked the question. The vision ofthe lost battle again rose before her mind. Her own power was lost,forfeited, and with it the independence of the native land which sheloved. Rome was already stretching out her hand to add it to the othersas a new province. But this should not be! Her twin children yonder,sleeping beneath crowns, must wear them! And the boy slumbering on thepillows? How many kingdoms Antony had bestowed! What remained for her togive?
Again she bent to the child. A beautiful dream must have hovered overhim, for he was smiling in his sleep. A flood of maternal love welled upin her agitated heart, and, as she saw the companions of her childhoodalso gazing tenderly at the little steeper, she remembered the daysof her own youth, and the quiet happiness which she had enjoyed in hergarden of Epicurus.
Power and splendour had begun for her beyond its confines, but thegreater the heights of worldly grandeur she attained, the more distant,the more irrecoverable became the consciousness of the happiness whichshe had once gratefully enjoyed, and for which she had never ceasedto long. And as she now gazed once more at the peaceful, smiling face,whence all pain and anxiety seemed worlds away, and all the love whichher heart contained appeared to be pouring towards him, the questionarose in her mind whether this boy, for whom she possessed no crown,might not be the only happy mortal of them all-happy in the sense ofthe master. Deeply moved by this thought, she turned to Archibiusand Charmian, exclaiming in a subdued tone, in order not to rouse thesleeper: "Whatever destiny may await us, I commend this child to yourspecial love and care. If Fate denies him the lustre of the crownand the elation of power, teach him to enjoy that other happiness,which--how long ago it is!--your father unfolded to his mother."
Archibius kissed her robe, and Charmian her hands; but Cleopatra,drawing a long breath, said: "The mother has already taken too much timefrom the Queen. I have ordered the news of my arrival to be kept fromCaesarion. This was well. The most important matters will be settledbefore our meeting. Everything relating to me and to the state must bedecided within an hour. But, first, I am something more than mother andQueen. The woman also asserts her claim. I will find time for you, myfriend, to-morrow!-To my chamber first, Charmian. But you need reststill more than I. Go with your brother. Send Iras to me. She will beglad to use her skilful fingers again in her mistress's service."