Now, when she had made an end of telling him, the Queen called on him to drink a cup with her, to the success of this new scheme, bidding him, as she did so, steep his wreath of roses in the wine, and make the draught more sweet.  This, then, he did, and it being done, she pledged him.  But when he was about to pledge her back, she caught his hand, crying “Hold!” whereat he paused, wondering.

Now, among the servants of Cleopatra was one Eudosius, a steward; and this Eudosius, seeing that the fortunes of Cleopatra were at an end, had laid a plan to fly that very night to Caesar, as many of his betters had done, taking with him all the treasure in the palace that he could steal.  But this design being discovered to Cleopatra, she determined to be avenged upon Eudosius.

“Eudosius,” she cried, for the man stood near; “come hither, thou faithful servant!  Seest thou this man, most noble Antony; through all our troubles he has clung to us and been of comfort to us.  Now, therefore, he shall be rewarded according to his deserts and the measure of his faithfulness, and that from thine own hand.  Give him thy golden cup of wine, and let him drink a pledge to our success; the cup shall be his guerdon.”

And still wondering, Antony gave it to the man, who, stricken in his guilty mind, took it, and stood trembling.  But he drank not.

“Drink! thou slave; drink!” cried Cleopatra, half rising from her seat and flashing a fierce look on his white face.  “By Serapis! so surely as I yet shall sit in the Capitol at Rome, if thou dost thus flout the Lord Antony, I’ll have thee scourged to the bones, and the red wine poured upon thy open wounds to heal them! Ah! at length thou drinkest!  Why, what is it, good Eudosius? art sick?  Surely, then, this wine must be as the water of jealousy of those Jews, that has power to slay the false and strengthen the honest only.  Go, some of you, search this man’s room; methinks he is a traitor!”

Meanwhile the man stood, his hands to his head.  Presently he began to tremble, and then fell, clutching at his bosom, as though to tear out the fire in his heart.  He staggered, with livid, twisted face and foaming lips, to where Cleopatra lay watching him with a slow and cruel smile.

“Ah, traitor! thou hast it now!” she said.  “Prithee, is death sweet?”

“Thou wanton!” yelled the dying man, “thou hast poisoned me!  Thus mayst thou also perish!” and with one shriek he flung himself upon her.  She saw his purpose, and swift and supple as a tiger sprang to one side, so that he did but grasp her royal cloak, tearing it from its emerald clasp.  Down he fell upon the ground, rolling over and over in the purple chiton, till presently he lay still and dead, his tormented face and frozen eyes peering ghastly from its folds.

“Ah!” said the Queen, with a hard laugh, “the slave died wondrous hard, and fain would have drawn me with him.  See, he has borrowed my garment for a pall!  Take him away and bury him in his livery.”