“Archibius?” asked Charmian in surprise.  “Yes, he who grew up in the garden of Epicurus, and in life and philosophy found the support which has preserved his peace of mind during all the conflicts of existence—­ he who loves the mother, and to whom the children are also dear—­ he to whom the boys and girls cling with affectionate confidence.  I wish to place the children under his protection and, if he will consent to grant this desire of the most hapless of women, I shall look forward calmly to the end.  It is approaching!  I feel, I know it!  Gorgias is already at work upon the plan for my tomb.”

“O my Queen!” cried Charmian sorrowfully.  Whatever may happen, your illustrious life cannot be in danger!  The generous heart of Mark Antony does not throb in Octavianus’s breast, but he is not cruel, and for the very reason that cool calculation curbs ambition he will spare you.  He knows that you are the idol of the city, the whole country; and if he really succeeds in adding fresh victories to this first conquest, if the immortals permit your throne and—­may they avert it!—­your sacred person, too, to fall into his power—­”

“Then,” cried Cleopatra, her clear eyes flashing, “then he shall learn which of us two is the greater—­then I shall know how to maintain the right to despise him, though blind Fate should make the whole power of the world subject to him who robbed my son and Caesar’s of his heritage!”

Her eyes had blazed with anger as she uttered the words; then, letting her little clenched hand fall, she went on in an altered tone: 

“Months may pass before he is strong enough to risk the attack, and the immortals themselves approved the erection of the monument.  The only obstacle in the way, the house of the old philosopher Didymus, was destroyed.  A messenger from Gorgias brought the news.  It is to be the second monument in Alexandria worthy of notice.  The other contains the body of the great Alexander, to whom the city owes its origin and name.  He who subjected half the world to his power and the genius of the Greeks, was younger than I when he died.  Whence do I, by whose miserable weakness the battle of Actium was lost, derive the right to walk longer beneath the sun?  Perhaps Mark Antony will arrive in a few hours.”

“And will you meet the disheartened hero in this mood?” interrupted Charmian.

“He does not wish to be received,” answered Cleopatra bitterly.  “He even refused to let me greet him, and I understand the denial.  But what must have overwhelmed this joyous nature, so friendly to all mankind, that he longs for solitude and avoids meeting those who are nearest and dearest?  Iras is now at the Choma—­whither he wishes to retire—­to see that everything is in order.  She will also provide a supply of the flowers he loves.  It is hard, cruelly hard, not to welcome him as usual.  Oh, Charmian, what joy it was when, with open arms and overflowing heart,