CHAPTER XXIV.
The fisherman and his family had watched the departure of their belovedguests with sorrowful hearts, and the women had shed many tears,although the sons of Pyrrhus had been dismissed from the fleet and wereagain helping their father at home, as in former times.
Besides, Dion had made the faithful freedman a prosperous man, and givenhis daughter, Dione, a marriage dowry. She was soon to become thewife of the captain of the Epicurus, Archibius's swift galley, whoseacquaintance she had made when the vessel, on several occasions, broughtCharmian's Nubian maid to the island. Anukis's object in making thesevisits was not only to see her friend, but to induce him to catch one ofthe poisonous serpents in the neighbouring island and keep it ready forthe Queen.
Since Cleopatra had ascertained that no poison caused a less painfuldeath than the fangs of the asp, she had resolved that the bite of oneof these reptiles should release her from the burden of life. The cleverEthiopian had thought of inducing her friend Pyrrhus to procure theadder, but it had required all Aisopion's skill in persuasion, and thetouching manner in which she understood how to describe the Queen'sterrible situation and severe suffering, to conquer the reluctance ofthe upright man. At last she succeeded in persuading him to measure aqueen by a different standard from a woman of the people, and inducinghim to arrange the manner and time of conveying the serpent into thewell-guarded palace. A signal was to inform him when the decisive hourarrived. After that he was to be ready with the asp in the fish-marketevery day. Probably his service would soon be claimed; for Octavianus'sdelay was scarcely an indication of a favourable decision of Cleopatra'sfate.
True, she was permitted to live in royal state at Lochias, and had evenbeen allowed to have the children, the twins, and little Alexander sentback to her with the promise that life and liberty would be grantedthem; but Caesarion--whose treacherous tutor Rhodon lured him from thejourney southward back to Alexandria by all sorts of representations,among them the return of Barine--was held prisoner in his father'stemple, where he had sought refuge. This news, and the fact thatOctavianus had condemned to death the youth who bore so striking aresemblance to Caesar, had not remained concealed from the unhappymother. She was also informed of the words in which the philosopherArius had encouraged Caesar's desire to rid himself of the son ofhis famous uncle. They referred to the Homeric saying concerning thedisadvantage of having many rulers.
Everything which Cleopatra desired to know concerning events in the cityreached her ears; for she was allowed much liberty-only she was closelywatched day and night, and all the servants and officials to whom shegranted an audience were carefully searched to keep from her all meansof self-destruction.
True, it was very evident that she had closed her account with life. Herattempt to take no food and die of starvation must have been noticed.Threats directed against the children, through whom she could be mosteasily influenced, finally induced her to eat again. Octavianus wasinformed of all these things, and his conduct proved his anxiety to keepher from suicide.
Several Asiatic princes vied with each other in the desire to honourMark Antony by a magnificent funeral, but Octavianus had allowedCleopatra to provide the most superb obsequies. In the time of herdeepest anguish it afforded her comfort and satisfaction to arrangeeverything herself, and even perform some offices with her own hands.The funeral had been as gorgeous as the dead man's love of splendourcould have desired.
Iras and Charmian were often unable to understand how the Queen--who,since Antony's death, had suffered not only from the wounds she hadinflicted upon herself in her despair, but also after her baffledattempt at starvation from a slow fever--had succeeded in resisting thesevere exertions and mental agitation to which she had been subjected byAntony's funeral.
The return of Archibius with the children, however, had visiblyreanimated her flagging energy. She often went to Didymus's garden,which was now connected with the palace at Lochias, to watch their workand share whatever interested their young hearts.
But the gayest of mothers, who had understood how to enter so thoroughlyinto her children's pursuits, had now become a sorrowful, grave monitor.Though the lessons she urged upon them were often beautiful and wise,they were little suited to the ages of Archibius's pupils, for theyusually referred to death and to questions of philosophy not easilyunderstood by children.
She herself felt that she no longer struck the right key; but whenevershe tried to change it and jest with them as usual, she could endurethe forced gaiety only a short time; a painful revulsion, frequentlyaccompanied by tears, followed, and she was obliged to leave herdarlings.
The life her foe granted her seemed like an intrusive gift, anoppressive debt, which we desire to pay a troublesome creditor assoon as possible. She seemed calmer and apparently content only whenpermitted to talk with the companions of her youth concerning bygonedays, or with them and Iras of death, and how it would be possible toput an end to an unwelcome existence.
After such conversations Iras and Charmian left her with bleedinghearts. They had long since resolved to share the fate of their royalmistress, whatever it might be. Their common suffering was the bondwhich again united them in affection. Iras had provided poisoned pinswhich had speedily destroyed the animals upon which they had beentried. Cleopatra knew of their existence, but she herself preferred thepainless death bestowed by the serpent's bite, and it was long since herfriends had seen the eyes of their beloved sovereign sparkle so brightlyas when Charmian told her that away had been found to obtain the uraeusserpent as soon as it was needed. Put it was not yet imperative to adoptthe last expedient. Octavianus wished to be considered lenient, andperhaps might still be prevailed upon to grant the Queen and herchildren a future meet for their royal birth.
Cleopatra's reply was an incredulous smile, yet a faint hope which savedher from despair began to bud in her soul.
Dolabella, an aristocratic Roman, a scion of the noble Cornelius family,was in the Caesar's train, and had been presented to the Egyptian Queen.In former years his father was a friend of Cleopatra; nay, she hadplaced him under obligations by sending him, after the murder of JuliusCaesar, the military force at her command to be used against Cassius.True, her legions, by messengers from Dolabella himself, were despatchedin another direction; but Cleopatra had not withdrawn her favour fromDolabella's father on that account. The latter had known her in Romebefore the death of Caesar, and had enthusiastically described thecharms of the bewitching Egyptian sovereign. Though the youth foundher only a mourning widow, ill in body and mind, he was so stronglyattracted and deeply moved by her beauty, her brilliant intellect, hergrace of bearing, her misfortunes and sufferings, that he devoted manyhours to her, and would have considered it a happiness to render hergreater services than circumstances permitted. He often accompaniedher to the children, whose hearts had been completely won by his frank,cheerful nature; and so it happened that he soon became one of the mostwelcome guests at Lochias. He confided without reserve every feelingthat stirred his soul to the warm-hearted woman who was so many yearshis senior, and through him she learned many things connected withOctavianus and his surroundings. Without permitting himself to be usedas a tool, he became an advocate for the unfortunate woman whom he sodeeply esteemed.
In intercourse with her he made every effort to inspire confidencein Octavianus, who favoured him, enjoyed his society, and in whosemagnanimity the youth firmly believed.
He anticipated the best results from an interview between the Queen andthe Caesar; for he deemed it impossible that the successful conquerorcould part untouched, and with no desire to mitigate her sad fate, fromthe woman who, in earlier years, had so fascinated his father, andwhom he himself, though she might almost have been his mother, deemedpeerless in her bewitching and gracious charm.
Cleopatra, on the contrary, shrank from meeting the man who had broughtso much misfortune upon Mark Antony and herself, and inflicted uponher insults which were only too well calculated to make her doubt hisclemency and truth.
On the other hand, she could not deny Dolabella'sassertion that it would be far less easy for Octavianus to refuse her inperson the wishes she cherished for her children's future than throughmediators. Proculejus had learned that Antony had named him to the Queenas the person most worthy of her confidence, and more keenly felt thewrong which, as the tool and obedient friend of Octavianus, he hadinflicted upon the hapless woman. The memory of his unworthy deed, whichhistory would chronicle, had robbed the sensitive man, the author andpatron of budding Roman poetry, of many an hour's sleep, and thereforehe also now laboured zealously to oblige the Queen and mitigate her hardfate. He, like the freedman Epaphroditus, who by Caesar's orders watchedcarefully to prevent any attempt upon her life, seemed to base greathopes on such an interview, and endeavoured to persuade her to requestan audience from the Caesar.
Archibius said that, even in the worst case, it could not render thepresent state of affairs darker. Experience, he said to Charmian, provedthat no man of any feeling could wholly resist the charm of her nature,and to him at least she had never seemed more winning than now. Whocould have gazed unmoved into the beautiful face, so eloquent in itssilent suffering, whose soul would not have been deeply touched by thesorrowful tones of her sweet voice? Besides, her sable mourning robeswere so well suited to the slight tinge of melancholy which pervaded herwhole aspect. When the fever flushed her cheeks, Archibius, spite of theravages which grief, anxiety, and fear had made upon her charms, thoughtthat he had never seen her look more beautiful. He knew her thoroughly,and was aware that her desire to follow the man she loved into the realmof death was sincere; nay, that it dominated her whole being. She clungto life only to die as soon as possible. The decision which, afterher resolve to build the monument, she had recognized in the temple ofBerenike as the right one, had become the rule of conduct of her life.Every thought, every conversation, led her back to the past. The futureseemed to exist no longer. If Archibius succeeded in directing herthoughts to approaching days she occupied herself wholly with herchildren's fate. For herself she expected nothing, felt absolved fromevery duty except the one of protecting herself and her name fromdishonour and humiliation.
The fact that Octavianus, when he doomed Caesarion to death, permittedthe other children to return to her with the assurance that no harmshould befall them, proved that he made a distinction between them andhis uncle's son, and had no fears that they threatened his own safety.She might expect important results in their favour from an interviewwith Octavianus, so she at last authorized Proculejus to request anaudience.
The Imperator's answer came the very same day. It was his place to seekher--so ran the Caesar's message. This meeting must decide her fate.Cleopatra was aware of this, and begged Charmian to remember the asp.
Her attendants had been forbidden to leave Lochias, but Epaphrodituspermitted them to receive visitors. The Nubian's merry, amusing talk hadmade friends for her among the Roman guards, who allowed her to pass inand out unmolested. On her return, of course, she was searched with theutmost care, like every one who entered Lochias.
The decisive hour was close at hand. Charmian knew what she must doin any event, but there was still one desire for whose fulfilment shelonged. She wished to greet Barine and see her boy.
To spare Iras, she had hitherto refrained from sending for Dion's wife.The sight of the mother and child might have reopened wounds stillunhealed, and she would not inflict this sorrow upon her niece, who fora long time had once more been loyally devoted to her.
Octavianus did not hasten to fulfil his assurance. But, at the end of aweek, Proculejus brought the news that he could promise a visit from theCaesar that afternoon. The Queen was deeply agitated, and desired beforethe interview to pay a visit to her tomb. Iras offered to accompany her,and as Cleopatra intended to remain an hour or longer, Charmian thoughtit a favourable opportunity to see Barine and her boy.
Dion's wife had been informed of her friend's wish, and Anukis, who wasto take her to Lochias, did not wait long for the mother and child.
Didymus's garden--now the property of the royal children--was the sceneof the meeting. In the shade of the familiar trees the young mother sankupon the breast of her faithful friend, and Charmian could not gaze herfill at the boy, or weary of tracing in his features a resemblance tohis grandfather Leonax.
How much these two women, to whom Fate had allotted lives so widelydifferent, found to tell each other! The older felt transported to thepast, the younger seemed to have naught save a present rich in blessingand a future green with hope. She had good news to tell of her sisteralso. Helena had long been the happy wife of Gorgias who, however, spiteof the love with which he surrounded the young mistress of his house,numbered among his most blissful hours those which were devoted tooverseeing the progress of the work on the mausoleum, where he metCleopatra.
Time flew swiftly to the two women, and it was a painful surprise whenone of the eunuchs on guard announced that the Queen had returned.Again Charmian embraced her lover's grandson, blessed him and the youngmother, sent messages of remembrance to Dion, begged Barine to thinkof her affectionately when she had passed from earth and, if her heartprompted her to the act, to anoint or adorn with a ribbon or flower thetombstone of the woman who had no friend to render her such a service.
Deeply moved by the firmness with which Charmian witnessed the approachof death, Barine listened in silence, but suddenly started as the sharptones of a well-known voice called her friend's name and, as she turned,Iras stood before her. Pallid and emaciated, she looked in her long,floating black robes the very incarnation of misery.
The sight pierced the heart of the happy wife and mother. She felt as ifmuch of the joy which Iras lacked had fallen to her own lot, and all thegrief and woe she had ever endured had been transferred to her foe.She would fain have approached humbly and said something very kind andfriendly; but when she saw the tall, haggard woman gazing at her child,and noticed the disagreeable expression which had formerly induced herto compare her to a sharp thorn, a terrible dread of this woman's evileye which might harm her boy seized the mother's heart and, overwhelmedby an impulse beyond control, she covered his face with her own veil.
Iras saw it, and after Barine had answered her question, "Dion's child?"in the affirmative, with a glance beseeching forbearance, the girl drewup her slender figure, saying with arrogant coldness "What do I care forthe child? We have more important matters on our hearts."
Then she turned to Charmian to inform her, in the tone of an officialannouncement, that during the approaching interview the Queen desiredher attendance also.
Octavianus had appointed sunset for the interview, and it still lackedseveral hours of the time. The suffering Queen felt wearied by her visitto the mausoleum, where she had implored the spirit of Antony, if he hadany power over the conqueror's heart, to induce him to release her fromthis torturing uncertainty and promise the children a happy fate.
To Dolabella, who had accompanied her from the tomb to the palace, shesaid that she expected only one thing from this meeting, and then wonfrom him a promise which strengthened her courage and seemed the mostprecious boon which could be granted at this time.
She had expressed the fear that Octavianus would still leave her indoubt. The youth spoke vehemently in Caesar's defence, and closed withthe exclamation, "If he should still keep you in suspense, he would benot only cool and circumspect--"
"Then," Cleopatra interrupted, "be nobler, be less cruel, and releaseyour father's friend from these tortures. If he does not reveal to mewhat awaits me and you learn it, then--you will not say no, you cannotrefuse me--then you, yes, you will inform me?"
Promptly and firmly came the reply: "What have I been able to do for youuntil now? But I will release you from this torture, if possible." Thenhe hastily turned his back, that he might not be compelled to see theeunuchs stationed at the palace gate search the garments of the royalcaptive.
His promise sustained the failing courage of the wearied, anxious Queen,and she re
clined upon the cushions of a lounge to recover from theexhausting expedition; but she had scarcely closed her eyes when thepavement of the court-yard rang under the hoofs of the four horses whichbore the Caesar to Lochias. Cleopatra had not expected the visit soearly.
She had just been consulting with her attendants about the best mode ofreceiving him. At first she had been disposed to do so on the throne,clad in her royal attire, but she afterwards thought that she wastoo ill and weak to bear the heavy ornaments. Besides, the man andsuccessful conqueror would show himself more indulgent and gracious tothe suffering woman than to the princess.
There was much to palliate the course which she had pursued in formerdays, and she had carefully planned the defence by which she hoped toinfluence his calm but not unjust nature. Many things in her favourwere contained in the letters from Caesar and Antony which, after herhusband's death, she had read again and again during so many wakefulnights, and they had just been brought to her.
Both Archibius and the Roman Proculejus had counselled her not toreceive him entirely alone. The latter did not express his opinion inwords, but he knew that Octavianus was more readily induced to noble andlenient deeds when there was no lack of witnesses to report them to theworld. It was advisable to provide spectators for the most consummateactor of his day.
Therefore the Queen had retained Iras, Charmian, and some of theofficials nearest to her person, among them the steward Seleukus, whocould give information if any question arose concerning the delivery ofthe treasure.
She had also intended, after she had somewhat recovered from the visitto the tomb, to be robed in fresh garments. This was prevented by theCaesar's unexpected arrival. Now, even had time permitted, she wouldhave been unable to have her hair arranged, she felt so weak and yet sofeverishly excited.
The blood coursed hotly through her veins and flushed her cheeks. Whentold that the Caesar was close at hand, she had only time to raiseherself a little higher on her cushions, push back her hair, and letIras, with a few hasty touches, adjust the folds of her mourning robes.Had she attempted to advance to meet him, her limbs would have failed tosupport her.
When the Caesar at last entered, she could greet him only by a wave ofher hand; but Octavianus, who had uttered the usual salutations from thethreshold, quickly broke the painful silence, saying with a courteousbow:
"You summoned me--I came. Every one is subject to beauty--even thevictor."
Cleopatra's head drooped in shame as she answered distinctly, yet in atone of modest denial: "I only asked the favour of an audience. I didnot summon. I thank you for granting the request. If it is dangerous forman to bow to woman's charms, no peril threatens you here. Beauty cannotwithstand tortures such as those which have been imposed on me--barelycan life remain. But you prevented my casting it from me. If you arejust, you will grant to the woman whom you would not permit to die anexistence whose burden will not exceed her power to endure."
The Caesar again bowed silently and answered courteously:
"I intend to make it worthy of you."
"Then," cried Cleopatra impetuously, "release me from this torturinguncertainty. You are not one of the men who never look beyond to-day andto-morrow."
"You are thinking," said Octavianus harshly, "of one who perhaps wouldstill be among us, if with wiser caution--"
Cleopatra's eyes, which hitherto had met the victor's cold gaze withmodest entreaty, flashed angrily, and a majestic: "Let the past rest!"interrupted him.
But she soon mastered the indignation which had stirred her passionateblood, and in a totally different tone, not wholly free from gentlepersuasion, she continued:
"The provident intellect of the man whose nod the universe obeys graspsthe future as well as the present. Must not he, therefore, have decidedthe children's fate ere he consented to see their mother? The onlyobstacle in your path, the son of your great uncle--"
"His doom was a necessity," interrupted the conqueror in a tone ofsincere regret. "As I mourned Antony, I grieve for the unfortunate boy."
"If that is true," replied Cleopatra eagerly, "it does honour to thekindness of your heart. When Proculejus wrested the dagger from my grasphe blamed me because I attributed to the most clement of conquerorsharshness and implacability."
"Two qualities," the Caesar protested, "which are wholly alien to mynature."
"And which--even if you possessed them--you neither could nor ought touse," cried Cleopatra, "if you really mean the beautiful words you sooften utter that, as the nephew and heir of the great Julius Caesar, youintend to walk in his footsteps. Caesarion--there is his bust--was theimage in every feature of his father, your illustrious model. To me, thehapless woman now awaiting my sentence from his nephew's lips, the godsgranted, as the most precious of all gifts, the love of your divineuncle. And what love! The world knew not what I was to his great heart,but my wish to defend myself from misconception bids me show it toyou, his heir. From you I expect my sentence. You are the judge. Theseletters are my strongest defence. I rely upon them to show myself to youas I was and am, not as envy and slander describe me.--The little ivorycasket, Iras! It contains the precious proofs of Caesar's love, hisletters to me."
She raised the lid with trembling hands and, as these mementoes carriedher back to the past, she continued in lower tones:
"Among all my treasures this simple little coffer has been for half alifetime my most valued jewel. He gave it to me. It was in the midst ofthe fierce contest here at the Bruchium."
Then, while unfolding the first roll, she directed Octavianus'sattention to it and the remainder of the contents of the little casket,exclaiming:
"Silent pages, yet how eloquent! Each one a peerless picture, thepowerful thinker, the man of action, who permits his restless intellectto repose, and suffers his heart to overflow with the love of youth!Were I vain, Octavianus, I might call each one of these letters a trophyof victory, an Olympic garland. The woman to whom Julius Caesar ownedhis subjugation might well hold her head higher than the unhappy,vanquished Queen who, save the permission to die--"
"Do not part with the letters," said Octavianus kindly. "Who can doubtthat they are a precious treasure--"
"The most precious and at the same time the advocate of the accused,"replied Cleopatra eagerly; "on them--as you have already heard--rests myvindication. I will commence with their contents. How terrible it is tomake what is sacred to us and intended only to elevate our own heartsserve a purpose, to do what has always been repugnant to us! But I needan advocate and, Octavianus, these letters will restore to the wretched,suffering beggar the dignity and majesty of the Queen. The world knowsbut two powers to which Julius Caesar bowed--the thrall of the pitiablewoman on this couch, and of all-conquering death. An unpleasantfellowship--but I do not shrink from it; for death robbed him of life,and from my hand--I ask only a brief moment. How gladly I would sparemyself my own praises, and you the necessity of listening to them! Yes,here it is: 'Through you, you irresistible woman,' he writes, 'I learnedfor the first time, after youth was over, how beautiful life can be.'"
Cleopatra, as she spoke, handed Caesar the letter. But while she wasstill searching hastily for another he returned the first, saying:
"I understand only too well your reluctance to allow such confidentialeffusions to play the part of defender. I can imagine their purport, andthey shall influence me as if I had read them all. However eloquent theymay be, they are needless witnesses. Is any written testimony requiredin behalf of charms whose magic is still potent?"
A bewitching smile, which seemed like a confirmation of the haughtyyoung conqueror's flattering words, flitted over Cleopatra's face.Octavianus noticed it. This woman indeed possessed enthralling charms,and he felt the slight flush that suffused his cheeks.
This unhappy captive, this suffering supplicant, could still drawinto her net any man who did not possess the cool watchfulness whichpanoplied his soul. Was it the marvellous melody of her voice, thechangeful lustre of her tearful eyes, the aristocratic grace
of thenoble figure, the exquisite symmetry of the hands and feet, the weaknessof the prostrate sufferer, strangely blended with truly royal majesty,or the thought that love for her had found earth's greatest and loftiestmen with indissoluble fetters, which lent this fragile woman, whohad long since passed the boundaries of youth, so powerful a spell ofattraction?
At any rate, however certain of himself he might be, he must guard hisfeelings. He understood how to bridle passion far better than the unclewho was so greatly his superior.
Yet it was of the utmost importance to keep her alive, and therefore tomaintain her belief in his admiration. He wished to show the world andthe Great Queen of the East, who had just boasted of conquering, likedeath, even the most mighty, its own supremacy as man and victor. Buthe must also be gentle, in order not to endanger the object for whichhe wanted her. She must accompany him to Rome. She and her childrenpromised to render his triumph the most brilliant and memorable onewhich any conqueror had ever displayed to the senate and the people.In a light tone which, however, revealed the emotion of his soul, heanswered: "My illustrious uncle was known as a friend of fair women. Hisstern life was crowned with flowers by many hands, and he acknowledgedthese favours verbally and perhaps--as he did to you in all theseletters--with the reed. His genius was greater, at any rate moremany-sided and mobile, than mine. He succeeded, too, in pursuingdifferent objects at the same time with equal devotion. I am whollyabsorbed in the cares of state, of government, and war. I feel gratefulwhen I can permit our poets to adorn my leisure for a brief space.Overburdened with toil, I have no time to yield myself captive, as myuncle did in these very rooms, to the most charming of women. If I couldfollow my own will, you would be the first from whom I would seek thegifts of Eros. But it may not be! We Romans learn to curb even the mostardent wishes when duty and morality command. There is no city in theworld where half so many gods are worshipped as here; and what strangedeities are numbered among them! It needs a special effort of theintellect to understand them. But the simple duties of the domestichearth!--they are too prosaic for you Alexandrians, who imbibephilosophy with your mothers' milk. What marvel, if I looked for themin vain? True, they would find little satisfaction--our household gods Imean--here, where the rigid demands of Hymen are mute before the ardentpleadings of Eros. Marriage is scarcely reckoned among the sacred thingsof life. But this opinion seems to displease you."
"Because it is false," cried Cleopatra, repressing with difficulty afresh outburst of indignation. "Yet, if I see aright, your reproach isaimed only at the bond which united me to the man who was called yoursister's husband. But I will I would gladly remain silent, but you forceme to speak, and I will do so, though your own friend, Proculejus, issigning to me to be cautious. I--I, Cleopatra, was the wife of MarkAntony according to the customs of this country, when you wedded him tothe widow of Marcellus, who had scarcely closed his eyes. Not she, butI, was the deserted wife--I to whom his heart belonged until the hourof his death, not the unloved consort wedded--" Here her voice fell.She had yielded to the passionate impulse which urged her to expressher feelings in the matter, and now continued in a tone of gentleexplanation: "I know that you proposed this alliance solely for thepeace and welfare of Rome--"
"To guard both, and to spare the blood of tens of thousands," Octavianusadded with proud decision. "Your clear brain perceived the true stateof affairs. If, spite of the grave importance of these motives, you--Butwhat voices would not that of the heart silence with you women! Theman, the Roman, succeeded in closing his ears to its siren song. Were itotherwise, I would never have chosen for my sister a husband by whom Iknew her happiness would be so ill-guarded--I would, as I have alreadysaid, be unable to master my own admiration of the loveliest of women.But I ought scarcely to boast of that. I fear that a heart like yoursopens less quickly to the modest Octavianus than to a Julius Caesaror the brilliant Mark Antony. Yet I may be permitted to confess thatperhaps I might have avoided conducting this unhappy war against myfriend to the end under my own guidance, and appearing myself in Egypt,had I not been urged by the longing to see once more the woman whohad dazzled my boyish eyes. Now, in my mature manhood, I desired tocomprehend those marvellous gifts of mind, that matchless sagacity--"
"Sagacity!" interrupted the Queen, shrugging her shoulders mournfully."You possess a far greater share of what is commonly called by thatname. My fate proves it. The pliant intellect which the gods bestowed onme would ill sustain the test in this hour of anguish. But if you reallycare to learn what mental power Cleopatra once possessed, relieve meof this terrible burden of uncertainty, and grant me a position in lifewhich will permit my paralyzed soul to move freely once more."
"It depends solely on yourself," Octavian eagerly responded, "to makeyour future life, not only free from care, but beautiful."
"On me?" asked Cleopatra in astonishment. "Our weal and woe are in yourhands alone. I am modest and ask nothing save to know what you intendfor our future, what you mean by the lot which you term beautiful."
"Nothing less," replied the Caesar quietly, "than what seems to lienearest to your own heart--a life of that freedom of soul to which youaspire."
The breath of the agitated Queen began come more quickly and, no longerable to contr the impatience which overpowered her, she exclaimed, "Withthe assurance of your favour on your lips, you refuse to discuss thequestion which interests, me beyond any other--for which, if any youmust have been prepared when you came here--"
"Reproaches?" asked Octavianus with we feigned surprise. "Would it notrather be my place to complain? It is precisely because I am thoroughlysincere in the friendly disposition which you read aright from my words,that some of your measures cannot fail to wound me. Your treasures wereto be committed to the flames. It would be unfair to expect tokens offriendship from the vanquished; but can you deny that even the bitteresthatred could scarcely succeed in devising anything more hostile?"
"Let the past rest! Who would not seek in war to diminish the enemy'sbooty?" pleaded the Queen in a soothing tone. But as Octavianus delayedhis answer, she continued more eagerly: "It is said that the ibex in themountains, when in mortal peril, rushes upon the hunter and hurls himwith it down the precipice. The same impulse is natural to human beings,and praiseworthy, I think, in both. Forget the past, as I will try todo, I repeat with uplifted hands. Say that you will permit the sons whomI gave to Antony to ascend the Egyptian throne, not under their mother'sguardianship, but that of Rome, and grant me freedom wherever I maylive, and I will gladly transfer to you, down to the veriest trifles,all the property and treasures I possess."
She clenched her little hand impatiently under the folds of her robe asshe spoke; but Octavianus lowered his eyes, saying carelessly: "In warthe victor disposes of the property of the vanquished; but my heartrestrains me from applying the universal law to you, who are so farabove ordinary mortals. Your wealth is said to be vast, though thefoolish war which Antony, with your aid, so greatly prolonged, devouredvast sums. In this country squandered gold seems like the grass which,when mowed, springs up anew."
"You speak," replied Cleopatra, more and more deeply incensed, withproud composure, "of the treasures which my ancestors, the powerfulmonarchs of a wealthy country, amassed during three hundred years fortheir noble race and for the adornment of the women of their line.Parsimony did not accord with the generosity and lofty nature of anAntony, yet avarice itself would not deem the portion still remaininginsignificant. Every article is registered."
While speaking, she took a manuscript from the hand of Seleukus andpassed it to Octavianus who, with a slight bend of the head, receivedit in silence. But he had scarcely begun to read it when the steward, alittle corpulent man with twinkling eyes half buried in his fat cheeks,raised his short forefinger, pointed insolently at the Queen, andasserted that she was trying to conceal some things, and had ordered himnot to place them on the list. Every tinge of colour faded from the lipsand cheeks of the agitated and passionate woman; tortured by feverishimpatience and
no longer able to control her emotions, she raisedherself and, with her own dainty hand, struck the accuser--whom she hadlifted from poverty and obscurity to his present high position--againand again in the face, till Octavianus, with a smile of superiority,begged her, much as the man deserved his punishment, to desist.
The unfortunate woman, thus thrown off her guard, flung herself back onher couch and, panting for breath, with tears streaming from her eyes,sobbed aloud, declaring that in the presence of such unendurable insult,such contemptible baseness, she fairly loathed herself. Then pressingher clenched hands upon her temples, she exclaimed "Before the eyes ofthe foe my royal dignity, which I have maintained all my life,falls from me like a borrowed mantle. Yet what am I? What shall I beto-morrow, what later? But who beneath the sun who has warm blood in hisveins can preserve his composure when juicy grapes are held before histhirsting lips to be withdrawn, as from Tantalus, ere he can taste them?You came hither with the assurance of your favour; but the flatteringwords of promise which you bestowed upon the unhappy woman were probablyonly the drops of poppy-juice given to soothe the ravings of fever. Wasthe favour which you permitted me to see and anticipate for the futuremerely intended to delude a miserable--"
But she went no further; Octavianus, with dignified bearing and loud,clear tones, interrupted "Whoever believes the heir of Caesar capableof shamefully deceiving a noble woman, a queen, the object of hisillustrious uncle's love, insults and wounds him; but the just angerwhich overmastered you may serve as your apology. Ay," he added in atotally different tone, "I might even have cause to be grateful for thisindignation, and to wish for another opportunity to witness the outbreakof passion though in its unbridled fierceness--the royal lioness isscarcely aware of her own beauty when the tempest of wrath sweeps heraway. What must she be when it is love that constrains the flame of herglowing soul to burst into a blaze?"
"Her glowing soul!" Cleopatra eagerly repeated, and the desire awoketo subjugate this man who had so confidently boasted of his power ofresistance. Though he might be stronger than many others, he certainlywas not invincible. And aware of her still unbroken sway over the heartsof men, her eyes sparkled with the alluring radiance of love, and abewitching smile brightened her face.
The young Imperator's heart began to chafe under the curb and to beatmore quickly, his cheeks flushed and paled by turns. How she gazed athim! What if she loved the nephew as she had once loved the uncle who,through her, had learned what bliss life can offer? Ay, it must behappiness to kiss those lips, to be clasped in those exquisite arms,to hear one's own name tenderly spoken by those musical tones. Even themagnificent marble statue of Ariadne, which he had seen in Athens, hadnot displayed to his gaze lines more beautiful than those of the womanreclining on yonder pillows. Who could venture to speak in her presenceof vanished charms? Ah, no! The spell which had conquered Julius Caesarwas as vivid, as potent as ever. He himself felt its power; he wasyoung, and after such unremitting exertions he too yearned to quaff thenectar of the noblest joys, to steep body and soul in peerless bliss.
So, with a hasty movement, he took one step towards her couch, resolvedto grasp her hands and raise them to his lips. His ardent gaze answeredhers; but surprised by the power which, though so heavily burdened withphysical and mental suffering, she still possessed over the strongestand coldest of men, she perceived what was passing in his soul, and asmile of triumph, blended with the most bitter contempt, hovered aroundher beautiful lips. Should she dupe him into granting her wishes byfeigning love for the first time? Should she yield to the man whohad insulted her, in order to induce him to accord the children theirrights? Should she, to gratify her lover's foe, relinquish the sacredgrief which was drawing her after him, give posterity and her childrenthe right to call her, instead of the most loyal of the loyal, adishonoured woman, who sold herself for power?
To all these questions came a prompt denial. The single stride whichOctavianus had made towards her, his eyes aflame with love, gave her theright to feel that she had vanquished the victor, and the proud delightof triumph was too plainly reflected in her mobile features to escapethe penetrating, distrustful gaze of the subjugated Caesar.
But he had scarcely perceived what threatened him, and remembered herwords concerning his famous uncle's surrender only to her and to death,when he succeeded in conquering his quickly kindled senses. Blushing athis own weakness, he averted his eyes from the Queen, and when he metthose of Proculejus and the other witnesses of the scene, he realizedthe abyss on whose verge he stood. He had half succumbed to the dangerof losing, by a moment's weakness, the fruit of great sacrifices andsevere exertions.
His expressive eyes, which had just rested rapturously upon a beautifulwoman, now scanned the spectators with the stern glance of a monarchand, apparently wishing to moderate an excess of flattering recognitionwhich might be misinterpreted, he said in an almost pedagogical tone:
"Yet we would rather see the noble lioness in the majestic repose whichbest suits all sovereigns. It is difficult for a calm, deliberate naturelike mine to understand an ardent, quickly kindling heart."
Cleopatra had watched this sudden transition with more surprise thandisappointment. Octavianus had half surrendered to her, but recoveredhis self-command in time, and a man of his temperament does not readilysuccumb twice to a danger which he barely escaped. And this was well! Heshould learn that he had misunderstood the glance which fired his heart;so she answered distantly, with majestic dignity:
"Misery such as mine quenches all ardour. And love? Woman's heartis ever open to it, save where it has lost the desire for power andpleasure. You are young and happy, therefore your soul still yearnsfor love--I know that--though not for mine. To me, on the contrary, onesuitor only is welcome, he with the lowered torch, whom you keep alooffrom me. With him alone is to be found the boon for which this soul haslonged from childhood--painless peace! You smile. My past gives you theright to do so. I will not lessen it. Each individual lives his or herown life. Few understand the changes of their own existence, far lessthose of a stranger's. The world has witnessed how Peace fled from mypath, or I from hers, and yet I see the possibility of finding theway. I am safe from the only things which would debar me from thosejoys--humiliation and disgrace." Here she hesitated; then, as if inexplanation, continued in the sweetest tones at her command: "Yourgenerosity, I think, will guard from these two foes the woman whom justnow--I did not fail to see it--you considered worthy of a more thangracious glance. I shall treasure it among memories which will neverfade. But now, illustrious Imperator! tell me, what is your decisionconcerning me and the children? What may we hope from your favour?"
"That Octavianus will be more and more warmly animated by the desire toaccord you and yours a worthy destiny, the more firmly you expect thathe will attest his generosity."
"And if I fulfil this desire and expect from you everything that isgreat and noble--the condition is not difficult--what proofs of yourgraciousness will then await us?"
"Paint them with all the fervour of that vivid power of imaginationwhich interpreted even my glance in your favour, and devised the marvelsby which you rendered the greatest and most brilliant man in Romethe happiest of mortals. But--by Zeus!--it is the fourth hour afternoonday!"
A glance from the window had caused the exclamation. Then, pressing hishand upon his heart, he continued in a tone of the most sincere regret"How gladly I would prolong this fascinating conversation, but importantmatters which, unfortunately, cannot be deferred, summon me--"
"And your answer?" cried Cleopatra, panting for breath and gazing at himwith eyes full of expectation.
"Must I repeat it?" he asked with impatient haste. "Very well, then.In return for implicit confidence on your part, favour, forgiveness,cordiality, every consideration which you can justly desire. Your heartis so rich in warmth of feeling, grant me but a small share of it andask tangible gifts in return. They are already bestowed." Then greetingher like a friend who is reluctant to say farewell, he hastily left theap
artment.
"Gone--gone!" cried Iras as the door closed behind him. "An eel thatslips from the hand which strives to hold him."
"Northern ice," added Cleopatra gloomily as Charmian aided her to finda more comfortable position. "As smooth as it is cold; there is nothingmore to hope."
"Yes, my royal mistress, yes," Iras eagerly protested. "Dolabella iswaiting for him in the Philadelphus court-yard. From him--you have hispromise--we shall learn what Octavianus has in store for you."
In truth, the Caesar did find the youth at the first gate of the palace,inspecting his superb Cyrenean horses.
"Magnificent animals!" cried Octavianus; "a gift from the city! Will youdrive with me?--A remarkable, a very remarkable woman!"
"Isn't she?" asked Dolabella eagerly.
"Undoubtedly," replied the Caesar. "But though she might almost beyour mother, an uncommonly dangerous one for youths of your age. What amelting voice, what versatility, what fervour! And yet such regal gracein every movement! But I wish to stifle, not to fan, the spark whichperhaps has already fallen into your heart. And the play, the farcewhich she just enacted before me in the midst of most serious matters!"
He uttered a low, short laugh; but Dolabella exclaimed expectantly: "Yourarely laugh, but this conversation--apparently--excites your mirth. Sothe result was satisfactory?"
"Let us hope so. I was as gracious to her as possible."
"That is delightful. May I know in what manner your kindness and wisdomhave shaped her future? Or, rather, what did you promise the vanquishedQueen?"
"My favour, if she will trust me."
"Proculejus and I will continue to strengthen her confidence. And if wesucceed--?"
"Then, as I have said, she will have my favour--a generous abundance offavour."
"But her future destiny? What fate will you bestow on her and herchildren?"
"Whatever the degree of her confidence deserves."
Here he hesitated, for he met Dolabella's earnest, troubled gaze, whichwas blended with a shade of reproach.
Octavianus desired to retain the enthusiastic admiration of the youth,who perhaps was destined to lofty achievements, so he continued in aconfidential tone: "To you, my young friend, I can venture to speakmore frankly. I will gladly grant the most aspiring wishes of thisfascinating and, I repeat, very remarkable woman, but first I need herfor my triumph. The Romans would have cause to reproach me if I deprivedthem of the sight of this Queen, this peerless woman, in many respectsthe first of her time. We shall soon set out for Syria. The Queen andher children I shall send in three days to Rome. If, in the triumphalprocession there, she creates the sensation I anticipate from aspectacle so worthy of admiration, she shall learn how I reward thosewho oblige me."
Dolabella had listened in silence. When the Caesar entered the carriage,he requested permission to remain behind.
Octavianus drove alone eastward to the camp where, in the vicinity ofthe Hippodrome, men were surveying the ground on which the suburb ofNikopolis--city of victory--was to be built to commemorate for futuregenerations the victory of the first Emperor over Antony and Cleopatra.It grew, but never attained any great importance.
The noble Cornelius gazed indignantly after his sovereign's fierysteeds; then, drawing up his stately figure to its full height, heentered the palace with a firm step. The act might cost him his life,but he would do what he believed to be his duty to the noble woman whohad honoured him with her friendship. This rare sovereign was too goodto feast the eyes of the rabble.
A few minutes later Cleopatra knew her impending ignominy.