“And,” added Cleopatra, “not to detract from your dignity as a king and your fame as a sage by any such fool’s pranks.”

“Madam teacher, do you know then what I had in my mind?  I would appear as Alcibiades, followed by a train of flute-playing women, with Aristarchus to play the part of Socrates.  I have often been told that he and I resemble each other—­in many points, say the more sincere; in every point, say the more polite of my friends.”

At these words Publius measured with his eye the frame of the royal young libertine, enveloped in transparent robes; and recalling to himself, as he gazed, a glorious statue of that favorite of the Athenians, which he had seen in the Ilissus, an ironical smile passed over his lips.  It was not unobserved by Euergetes and it offended him, for there was nothing he liked better than to be compared to the nephew of Pericles; but he suppressed his annoyance, for Publius Cornelius Scipio was the nearest relative of the most influential men of Rome, and, though he himself wielded royal power, Rome exercised over him the sovereign will of a divinity.

Cleopatra noticed what was passing in her brother’s mind, and in order to interrupt his further speech and to divert his mind to fresh thoughts, she said cheerfully: 

“Let us then give up the procession, and think of some other mode of celebrating your birthday.  You, Lysias, must be experienced in such matters, for Publius tells me that you were the leader in all the games of Corinth.  What can we devise to entertain Euergetes and ourselves?”

The Corinthian looked for a moment into his cup, moving it slowly about on the marble slab of the little table at his side, between an oyster pasty and a dish of fresh asparagus; and then he said, glancing round to win the suffrages of the company: 

“At the great procession which took place under Ptolemy Philadelphus—­Agatharchides gave me the description of it, written by the eye-witness Kallixenus, to read only yesterday—­all kinds of scenes from the lives of the gods were represented before the people.  Suppose we were to remain in this magnificent palace, and to represent ourselves the beautiful groups which the great artists of the past have produced in painting or sculpture; but let us choose those only that are least known.”

“Splendid,” cried Cleopatra in great excitement, who can be more like Heracles than my mighty brother there—­the very son of Alcmene, as Lysippus has conceived and represented him?  Let us then represent the life of Heracles from grand models, and in every case assign to Euergetes the part of the hero.”

“Oh!  I will undertake it,” said the young king, feeling the mighty muscles of his breast and arms, “and you may give me great credit for assuming the part, for the demi-god who strangled the snakes was lacking in the most important point, and it was not without due consideration that Lysippus represented him with a small head on his mighty body; but I shall not have to say anything.”