d her little hand impatiently under the folds of her robe as
she spoke; but Octavianus lowered his eyes, saying carelessly: "In war
the victor disposes of the property of the vanquished; but my heart
restrains me from applying the universal law to you, who are so far above
ordinary mortals. Your wealth is said to be vast, though the foolish war
which Antony, with your aid, so greatly prolonged, devoured vast sums. In
this country squandered gold seems like the grass which, when mowed,
springs up anew."

"You speak," replied Cleopatra, more and more deeply incensed, with proud
composure, "of the treasures which my ancestors, the powerful monarchs of
a wealthy country, amassed during three hundred years for their noble
race and for the adornment of the women of their line. Parsimony did not
accord with the generosity and lofty nature of an Antony, yet avarice
itself would not deem the portion still remaining insignificant. Every
article is registered."

While speaking, she took a manuscript from the hand of Seleukus and
passed it to Octavianus who, with a slight bend of the head, received it
in silence. But he had scarcely begun to read it when the steward, a
little corpulent man with twinkling eyes half buried in his fat cheeks,
raised his short forefinger, pointed insolently at the Queen, and
asserted that she was trying to conceal some things, and had ordered him
not to place them on the list. Every tinge of colour faded from the lips
and cheeks of the agitated and passionate woman; tortured by feverish
impatience and no longer able to control her emotions, she raised herself
and, with her own dainty hand, struck the accuser--whom she had lifted
from poverty and obscurity to his present high position--again and again
in the face, till Octavianus, with a smile of superiority, begged her,
much as the man deserved his punishment, to desist.

The unfortunate woman, thus thrown off her guard, flung herself back on
her couch and, panting for breath, with tears streaming from her eyes,
sobbed aloud, declaring that in the presence of such unendurable insult,
such contemptible baseness, she fairly loathed herself. Then pressing her
clenched hands upon her temples, she exclaimed "Before the eyes of the
foe my royal dignity, which I have maintained all my life, falls from me
like a borrowed mantle. Yet what am I? What shall I be to-morrow, what
later? But who beneath the sun who has warm blood in his veins can
preserve his comp