“She decided everything, down to the carving on the stone sarcophagi.  In addition, there are to be rooms and chambers in the lower story for the reception of her treasures.  Beneath them she has had corridors made for the pitch and straw which, if the worst should come, are to be lighted.  She will then give to the flames the gold and silver, gems and jewels, ebony and ivory, the costly spices—­in short, all her valuables.  The pearls alone are worth many kingdoms.  Who can blame her if she prefers to destroy them rather than leave them for the foe”

“The garden in which you grew up, Barine, is now the scene of the happy, busy life led by Alexander and the twins.  There, under my brother’s guidance, they frolic, build, and dig.  Cleopatra goes to it whenever she longs for repose after the pursuit of pleasures which have lost their zest.

“When, the day before yesterday, Antony, crowned with ivy as the new Dionysus, drove up the Street of the King in the golden chariot drawn by tamed lions, to bring her, the new Isis, from the Lochias in a lotus flower made of silver and white paste, drawn by four snow-white steeds, she pointed to the glittering train and said:  ’Between the quiet of the philosopher’s garden, where I began my life and still feel most at ease, and the grave, where nothing disturbs my last repose, stretches the Street of the King, with this deafening tumult, this empty splendour.  It is mine.’

“O child, it was very different in former days!  She loved Mark Antony with passionate ardour.  He was the first man in the world, and yet he bowed before the supremacy of her will.  The longing of the awakening heart, the burning ambition which already kindled the soul of the child, had alike found satisfaction, and the world beheld how the mortal woman, Cleopatra, for her lover and herself, could steep this meagre life with the joys of the immortals.  He was grateful for them, and the most generous of men laid at the feet of the ‘Great Queen of the East’ the might of Rome and the kings of two quarters of the globe.

“These years were spent by both in one long revel.  His marriage with Octavia brought the first awakening.  It was hard and painful.  He had not deserted Cleopatra for a woman’s sake, but on account of his endangered power and sovereignty.  But the unloved Octavia constrained him to look up to her with respectful admiration—­nay, she became dear to him.

“A fierce battle for him and his heart arose between the two.  It was fought with very different weapons, and Cleopatra conquered.  The revel, the dream began again.  Then came Actium, the disenchantment, the awakening, the fall, the flight from the world.  Our object was not to let him relapse into intoxication, to rouse the hero’s strength and courage from their slumber, render him for love’s sake a fellow-combatant in the common cause.

“But he had become accustomed to see in her the giver of ecstasy.  The only thing that he still desired was to drain the cup of pleasure in her society till all was over.  She sees this, grieves over it, and leaves no means of rousing him to fresh energy untried; yet how rarely he rallies his powers to earnest labour!