Enraged, fairly frantic with wrath, the Romans rushed towards the women.  Epaphroditus had seen Iras still occupied in arranging Cleopatra’s ornaments.  Now he endeavoured to raise her companion, saying reproachfully, “Charmian, was this well done?” Summoning her last strength, she answered in a faltering voice, “Perfectly well, and worthy a descendant of Egyptian kings.”  Her eyes closed, but Proculejus, the author, who had gazed long with deep emotion into the beautiful proud face of the Queen whom he had so greatly wronged, said:  “No other woman on earth was ever so admired by the greatest, so loved by the loftiest.  Her fame echoed from nation to nation throughout the world.  It will continue to resound from generation to generation; but however loudly men may extol the bewitching charm, the fervour of the love which survived death, her intellect, her knowledge, the heroic courage with which she preferred the tomb to ignominy—­the praise of these two must not be forgotten.  Their fidelity deserves it.  By their marvellous end they unconsciously erected the most beautiful monument to their mistress; for what genuine goodness and lovableness must have been possessed by the woman who, after the greatest reverses, made it seem more desirable to those nearest to her person to die than to live without her!”

     [The Roman’s exclamation and the answer of the loyal dying Charmian
     are taken literally from Plutarch’s narrative.]

The news of the death of their beloved, admired sovereign transformed Alexandria into a house of mourning.  Obsequies of unprecedented magnificence and solemnity, at which many tears of sincere grief flowed, honoured her memory.  One of Octavianus’s most brilliant plans was frustrated by her death, and he had raved furiously when he read the letter in which Cleopatra, with her own hand, informed him of her intention to die.  But he owed it to his reputation for generosity to grant her a funeral worthy of her rank.  To the dead, who had ceased to be dangerous, he was ready to show an excess of magnanimity.

The treatment which he accorded to Cleopatra’s children also won the world’s admiration.  His sister Octavia received them into her own house and intrusted their education to Archibius.

When the order to destroy the statues of Antony and Cleopatra was issued, Octavianus gave his contemporaries another proof of his disposition to be lenient, for he ordered that the numerous statues of the Queen in Alexandria and Egypt should be preserved.  True, he had been influenced by the large sum of two thousand talents paid by an Alexandrian to secure this act of generosity.  Archibius was the name of the rare friend who had impoverished himself to render this service to the memory of the beloved dead.

In later times the statues of the unfortunate Queen adorned the places where they had been erected.