man would have put on as best adapted to heighten the
magnificence of her charms, and kindle a tropic fire in the cold eyes of
Octavius.

A marvellous repose--that rare merit in statuary, except it be the
lumpish repose native to the block of stone--was diffused throughout the
figure. The spectator felt that Cleopatra had sunk down out of the fever
and turmoil of her life, and for one instant--as it were, between two
pulse throbs--had relinquished all activity, and was resting throughout
every vein and muscle. It was the repose of despair, indeed; for
Octavius had seen her, and remained insensible to her enchantments. But
still there was a great smouldering furnace deep down in the woman's
heart. The repose, no doubt, was as complete as if she were never to
stir hand or foot again; and yet, such was the creature's latent energy
and fierceness, she might spring upon you like a tigress, and stop the
very breath that you were now drawing midway in your throat.

The face was a miraculous success. The sculptor had not shunned to
give the full Nubian lips, and other characteristics of the Egyptian
physiognomy. His courage and integrity had been abundantly rewarded; for
Cleopatra's beauty shone out richer, warmer, more triumphantly beyond
comparison, than if, shrinking timidly from the truth, he had chosen
the tame Grecian type. The expression was of profound, gloomy, heavily
revolving thought; a glance into her past life and present emergencies,
while her spirit gathered itself up for some new struggle, or was
getting sternly reconciled to impending doom. In one view, there was a
certain softness and tenderness,--how breathed into the statue, among so
many strong and passionate elements, it is impossible to say. Catching
another glimpse, you beheld her as implacable as a stone and cruel as
fire.

In a word, all Cleopatra--fierce, voluptuous, passionate, tender,
wicked, terrible, and full of poisonous and rapturous enchantment--was
kneaded into what, only a week or two before, had been a lump of wet
clay from the Tiber. Soon, apotheosized in an indestructible material,
she would be one of the images that men keep forever, finding a heat in
them which does not cool down, throughout the centuries?

"What a woman is this!" exclaimed Miriam, after a long pause. "Tell me,
did she ever try, even while you were creating her, to overcome you with
her fury or her love? Were you not afraid to touch her, as she grew more
and more tow