“That cannot be, fair Egypt!”

She laughed, and bade a slave bring her white vinegar in a glass.  When it was brought she set it before her and laughed again, while Antony, rising from his couch, drew near and set himself at her side, and all the company leant forward to see what she would do.  And this she did.  She took from her ear one of those great pearls which last of all had been drawn from the body of the Divine Pharaoh; and before any could guess her purpose she let it fall into the vinegar.  Then came silence, the silence of wonder, and slowly the priceless pearl melted in the strong acid.  When it was melted she lifted the glass and shook it, then drank the vinegar, to the last drop.

“More vinegar, slave!” she cried; “my meal is but half finished!” and she drew forth the second pearl.

“By Bacchus, no! that shalt thou not!” cried Antony, snatching at her hands; “I have seen enough;” and at that moment, moved to it by I know not what, I called aloud: 

“The hour falls, O Queen!—­the hour of the coming of the curse of Menkau-ra!”

An ashy whiteness grew upon Cleopatra’s face, and she turned upon me furiously, while all the company gazed wondering, not knowing what the words might mean.

“Thou ill-omened slave!” she cried.  “Speak thus once more and thou shalt be scourged with rods!—­ay, scourged like an evildoer—­that I promise thee, Harmachis!”

“What means the knave of an astrologer?” asked Antony.  “Speak, sirrah! and make clear thy meaning, for those who deal in curses must warrant their wares.”

“I am a servant of the Gods, noble Antony.  That which the Gods put in my mind that must I say; nor can I read their meaning,” I answered humbly.

“Oh, oh! thou servest the Gods, dost thou, thou many-coloured mystery?” This he said having reference to my splendid robes.  “Well, I serve the Goddesses, which is a softer cult.  And there’s this between us:  that though what they put in my mind I say, neither can I read their meaning,” and he glanced at Cleopatra as one who questions.

“Let the knave be,” she said impatiently; “to-morrow we’ll be rid of him.  Sirrah, begone!”

I bowed and went; and, as I went, I heard Antony say:  “Well, he may be a knave—­for that all men are—­but this for thy astrologer:  he hath a royal air and the eye of a King—­ay, and wit in it.”

Without the door I paused, not knowing what to do, for I was bewildered with misery.  And, as I stood, someone touched me on the hand.  I glanced up—­it was Charmion, who in the confusion of the rising of the guests, had slipped away and followed me.

For in trouble Charmion was ever at my side.

“Follow me,” she whispered; “thou art in danger.”

I turned and followed her.  Why should I not?

“Whither go we?” I asked at length.

“To my chamber,” she said.  “Fear not; we ladies of Cleopatra’s Court have small good fame to lose; if anyone by chance should see us, they’ll think that it is a love-tryst, and such are all the fashion.”