d to me that such must have been the aspect of Psyche when she stood
pleading for mercy at the throne of Zeus.

"But it was worth while to look at the other also. Was that Cleopatra?
She might have been the elder, for she was as tall as her sister, but how
utterly unlike! From the waving hair to every movement of the hands and
body the former--it was Cleopatra--had seemed to me as if she were
flying. Everything about the second figure, on the contrary, was solid,
nay, even seemed to offer positive resistance. She sprang from the litter
and alighted on the ground with both feet at once, clung firmly to the
door, and haughtily flung back her head, crowned with a wealth of dark
locks. Her complexion was pink and white, and her blue eyes sparkled
brightly enough; but the expression with which she gazed at my parents
was defiant rather than questioning, and as she glanced around her red
lips curled scornfully as though she deemed her surroundings despicable
and unworthy of her royal birth.

"This irritated me against the seven-year-old child, yet I said to myself
that, though it was very beautiful here--thanks to my father's
care--perhaps it appeared plain and simple when compared with the marble,
gold, and purple of the royal palace whence she came. Her features, too,
were regular and beautiful, and she would have attracted attention by her
loveliness among a multitude. When I soon heard her issue imperious
commands and defiantly insist upon the fulfilment of every wish, I
thought, in my boyish ignorance, that Arsinoe must be the elder; for she
was better suited to wield a sceptre than her sister. I said so to my
brother and Charmian; but we all soon saw which really possessed queenly
majesty; for Arsinoe, if her will were crossed, wept, screamed, and raged
like a lunatic, or, if that proved useless, begged and teased; while if
Cleopatra wanted anything she obtained it in a different way. Even at
that time she knew what weapons would give her victory and, while using
them, she still remained the child of a king.

"No artisan's daughter could have been further removed from airs of
majestic pathos than this embodiment of the most charming childlike
grace; but if anything for which her passionate nature ardently longed
was positively refused, she understood how to attain it by the melody of
her voice, the spell of her eyes, and in extreme cases by a silent tear.
When to such tears were added uplifted hands and a few sweet wor