“That I could not indeed,” said Philometor modestly, “but I know and admire your swift intelligence and accurate memory.”

“You see I am more fit for a king than you are;” laughed Euergetes.  “You are too gentle and debonair for a throne!  Hand over your government to me.  I will fill your treasury every year with gold.  I beg you now, come to Alexandria with Cleopatra for good, and share with me the palace and the gardens in the Bruchion.  I will nominate your little Philopator heir to the throne, for I have no wish to contract a permanent tie with any woman, as Cleopatra belongs to you.  This is a bold proposal, but reflect, Philometor, if you were to accept it, how much time it would give you for your music, your disputations with the Jews, and all your other favorite occupations.”

“You never know how far you may go with your jest!” interrupted Cleopatra.  “Besides, you devote quite as much time to your studies in philology and natural history as he does to music and improving conversations with his learned friends.”

“Just so,” assented Philometor, “and you may be counted among the sages of the Museum with far more reason than I.”

“But the difference between us,” replied Euergetes, “is that I despise all the philosophical prattlers and rubbish-collectors in Alexandria almost to the point of hating them, while for science I have as great a passion as for a lover.  You, on the contrary, make much of the learned men, but trouble yourself precious little about science.”

“Drop the subject, pray,” begged Cleopatra.  “I believe that you two have never yet been together for half an hour without Euergetes having begun some dispute, and Philometor having at last given in, to pacify him.  Our guests must have been waiting for us a long time.  Had Publius Scipio made his appearance?”

“He had sent to excuse himself,” replied the king as he scratched the poll of Cleopatra’s parrot, parting its feathers with the tips of his fingers.  “Lysias, the Corinthian, is sitting below, and he says he does not know where his friend can be gone.”

“But we know very well,” said Euergetes, casting an ironical glance at the queen.  “It is pleasant to be with Philometor and Cleopatra, but better still with Eros and Hebe.  Sister, you look pale—­shall I call for Zoe?”

Cleopatra shook her head in negation, but she dropped into a seat, and sat stooping, with her head bowed over her knees as if she were dreadfully tired.  Euergetes turned his back on her, and spoke to his brother of indifferent subjects, while she drew lines, some straight and some crooked, with her fan-stick through the pile of the soft rug on the floor, and sat gazing thoughtfully at her feet.  As she sat thus her eye was caught by her sandals, richly set with precious stones, and the slender toes she had so often contemplated with pleasure; but now the sight of them seemed to vex her, for in obedience to a swift impulse she loosened the straps, pushed off her right sandal with her left foot, kicked it from her, and said, turning to her husband: