“So the system of the Stoics leads to this end also!” cried the Queen gaily, and, turning to the companion of her own studies, she added:  “Did you hear, Charmian?  If we had only succeeded in perceiving the wisdom and calm, purposeful order of existence which the Stoics, amid so much that is perverse, unhealthy, and provocative of contradiction, nevertheless set above everything else!  How can I, in order to live wisely, imitate Nature, when in her being and action I encounter so much that is contradictory to my human reason, which is a part of the divine?”

Here she hesitated, and the expression of her face suddenly changed.

She had advanced close to Barine and, while standing directly in front of her, her eyes had rested on the gem which adorned her arm above the elbow.

Was it this which agitated Cleopatra so violently that her voice lost its bewitching melody, as she went on in a harsh, angry tone?—­“So that is the source of all this misfortune.  Even as a child I detested that sort of arbitrary judgment which passes under the mask of stern morality.  There is an example!  Do you hear the howling of the storm?  In human nature, as well as in the material world, there are tempests and volcanoes which bring destruction, and, if the original character of any individual is full of such devastating forces, like the neighbourhood of Vesuvius or Etna, the goal to which his impulses would lead him is clearly visible.  Ay, the Stoic is not allowed to destroy the harmony and order of things in existence, any more than to disturb those which are established by the state.  But to follow our natural impulses wherever they lead us is so perilous a venture, that whoever has the power to fix a limit to it betimes is in duty bound to do so.  This power is mine, and I will use it!”

Then, with iron severity, she asked:  “As it seems to be one of the demands of your nature, woman, to allure and kindle the hearts of all who bear the name of man, even though they have not yet donned the garb of the Ephebi, so, too, you seem to appear to delight in idle ornaments.  Or,” and as she spoke she touched Barine’s shoulder”—­or why should you wear, during the hours of slumber, that circlet on your arm?”

Barine had watched with increasing anxiety the marked change in the manner and language of the Queen.  She now beheld a repetition of what she had experienced at the Adonis festival, but this time she knew what had roused Cleopatra’s jealousy.  She, Barine, wore on her arm a gift from Antony.  With pallid face she strove to find a fitting answer, but ere she could do so Iras advanced to the side of the incensed Queen, saying:  “That circlet is the counterpart of the one your august husband bestowed upon you.  The singer’s must also be a gift from Mark Antony.  Like every one else in the world, she deems the noble Imperator the greatest man of his day.  Who can blame her for prizing it so highly that she does not remove it even while she sleeps?”