as you can command, till each and all are dazzled to blindness.  Perhaps even before that you may win back your freedom, and with it a full treasury, a stable full of noble horses, and a magnificent residence in the royal palace on the Bruchion in gay Alexandria.  It depends only on how soon our brother Philometor—­who fought like a lion this morning—­perceives that he is more fit to be a commander of horse, a lute-player, an attentive host of word-splitting guests—­than the ruler of a kingdom.  Now, is it not worthy of note to those who, like you and me, sister, love to investigate the phenomena of our spiritual life, that this man—­who in peace is as yielding as wax, as week as a reed—­is as tough and as keen in battle as a finely tempered sword?  We hacked bravely at each other’s shields, and I owe this slash here on my shoulder to him.  If Hierax—­who is in pursuit of him with his horsemen—­is lucky and catches him in time, he will no doubt give up the crown of his own free will.”

“Then he is not yet in your power, and he had time to mount a horse!” cried Cleopatra, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction; “then all is not yet lost for us.  If Philometor can but reach Rome, and lay our case before the Senate—­”

“Then he might certainly have some prospect of help from the Republic, for Rome does not love to see a strong king on the throne of Egypt,” said Euergetes.  “But you have lost your mainstay by the Tiber, and I am about to make all the Scipios and the whole gens Cornelia my stanch allies, for I mean to have the deceased Roman burnt with the finest cedar-wood and Arabian spices; sacrifices shall be slaughtered at the same time as if he had been a reigning king, and his ashes shall be sent to Ostia and Rome in the costliest specimen of Vasa murrina that graces my treasure-house, and on a ship specially fitted, and escorted by the noblest of my friends.  The road to the rampart of a hostile city lies over corpses, and I, as general and king—­”

Euergetes suddenly broke off in his sentence, for a loud noise and vehement talking were heard outside the door.  Cleopatra too had not failed to observe it, and listened with alert attention; for on such a day and in these apartments every dialogue, every noise in the king’s antechamber might be of grave purport.

Euergetes did not deceive himself in this matter any more than his sister, and he went towards the door holding the sacrificial sickle, which formed part of his regalia, in his right hand.  But he had not crossed the room when Eulaeus rushed in, as pale as death, and calling out to his sovereign: 

“The murderers have betrayed us; Publius Scipio is alive, and insists on being admitted to speak with you.”

The king’s armed hand fell by his side, and for a moment he gazed blankly into vacancy, but the next instant he had recovered himself, and roared in a voice which filled the room like rolling thunder: 

“Who dares to hinder the entrance of my friend Publius Cornelius Scipio?  And are you still here, Eulaeus—­you scoundrel and you villain!  The first case that I, as King of Upper and Lower Egypt, shall open for trial will be that which this man—­who is your foe and my friend—­proposes to bring against you.  Welcome! most welcome on my birthday, my noble friend!”