Here she paused, for she thought she heard footsteps approaching, and then exclaimed anxiously:  “I am waiting—­expecting.  Perhaps Antony cannot escape from the paralyzing grasp of despair.  To fight the last battle without him, and yet under the gaze of his wrathful, gloomy eyes, once so full of sunshine, would be the greatest sorrow of my life.  Archibius, I may confess this to you, the friend who saw love for this man develop in the breast of the child—­But what does this mean?  An uproar!  Have the people rebelled?  Yesterday the representatives of the priesthood, the members of the museum, and the leaders of the army assured me of their changeless fidelity and love.  Dion belonged to the Macedonian men of the Council; yet I have already declared, in accordance with the truth, that I never intended to persecute him on Caesarion’s account.  I do not even know—­and do not desire to know the refuge of the lately wedded pair.  Or has the new tax levied, the command to seize the treasures of the temple, driven them to extremities?  What am I to do?  We need gold to bid the foe defiance, to preserve the independence of the throne, the country, and the people.  Or have tidings from Rome?  It is becoming serious—­and the noise is growing louder.”

“Let me see what they want,” Archibius anxiously interrupted, hastening to the door; but just at that moment the Introducer opened it, crying, “Mark Antony is approaching the Lochias, attended by half Alexandria!”

“The noble Imperator is returning!” fell from the bearded lips of the commander of the guard, ere the courtier’s words had died away; and even while he spoke Iras pressed past him, shrieking as if half frantic:  “He is coming!  He is here!  I knew he would come!  How they are shouting and cheering!  Out with you, men!  If you are willing, my royal mistress, we will greet him from the balcony of Berenike.  If we only had—­”

“The twins—­little Alexander!” interrupted Cleopatra, with blanched face and faltering voice.  “Put on their festal garments.”

“Quick—­the children, Zoe!” cried Iras, completing the order and clapping her hands.  Then she turned to the Queen with the entreaty:  “Be calm, my royal mistress, be calm, I beseech you.  We have ample time.  Here is the vulture crown of Isis, and here the other.  Antony’s slave, Eros, has just come in, panting for breath.  The Imperator, he says, will appear as the new Dionysus.  It would certainly please his master—­though he had not commissioned him to request it—­if you greeted him as the new Isis.  —­Help me, Hathor.  Nephoris, tell the usher to see that the fan-bearers and the other attendants, women and men, are in their places.—­Here are the pearl and diamond necklaces for your throat and bosom.  Take care of the robe.  The transparent bombyx is as delicate as a cobweb, and if you tear it No, you must not refuse.  We all know how it pleases him to see his goddess in divine majesty and beauty.”