“These are grievous times,” said Iras, who saw in amazement the Queen’s eyes sparkle with the confident light of victory.  “Grant your foot its right.  Let it crush her!  Monsters enough, on whom you cannot set your foot, throng your path.  Hence to Hades, in these days of conflict, with all who can be quickly removed!”

“Murder?” asked Cleopatra, her noble brow contracting in a frown.

“If it must be, ay,” replied Iras, sharply.  “If possible, banishment to an island, an oasis.  If necessity requires, to the mines with the siren!”

“If necessity requires?” repeated the Queen.  “I think that means, if it proves that she has deserved the harshest punishment.”

“She has brought it upon herself by every hour of my sovereign’s life clouded through her wiles.  In the mines the desire to set snares for husbands and sons soon vanishes.”

“And people languish in the most terrible torture till death ends their suffering,” added Cleopatra, in a tone of grave reproof.  “No, girl, this victory is too easy.  I will not send even my foe to death without a hearing, especially at this time, which teaches me what it is to await the verdict of one who is more powerful.  This woman who, as it were, summons me to battle, shall have her wish.  I am curious to see the singer again, and to learn the means by which she has succeeded in chaining to her triumphal car so many captives, from boys up to the most exacting men.”

“What do you intend, my royal mistress?” cried Iras in horror.

“I intend,” said Cleopatra imperiously, “to see the daughter of Leonax, the granddaughter of Didymus, two men whom I hold in high esteem, ere I decide her destiny.  I wish to behold, test, and judge my rival, heart and mind, ere I condemn her.  I will engage in the conflict to which she challenged the loving wife and mother!  But—­this is my right—­I will compel her to show herself to me as Antony so often saw me during the past few weeks, unaided and unimproved by the arts which we both have at command.”

Then, without paying any further heed to her attendant, she went to a window, and, after a swift glance at the sky, added quietly:  “The first hour after midnight is drawing to a close.  The council will begin immediately.  The matter to be under discussion is a venture which might save much from the wreck.  The council will last two hours, perchance only one.  The singer can wait.  Where does she live?”

“In the house which belonged to her father, the artist Leonax, in the garden of the Paneum,” replied Iras hoarsely.  “But, O my Queen, if ever my opinion had the slightest weight with you—­”

“I desire no counsel now, but demand the fulfilment of my orders!” cried Cleopatra resolutely.  “As soon as those whom I expect are here—­”