of separation I was obliged to forget them all,
and welcome him as though he had done nothing but good to me and his
brother--who is my husband, as is the custom of the families of Pharaohs
and the usage of our race. He is a young Titan, and no one would be
astonished if he one day succeeded in piling Pelion upon Ossa. I know
well enough how wild he can often be, how unbridled and recalcitrant
beyond all bounds; but I can easily pardon him, for the same bold blood
flows in my own veins, and at the root of all his excesses lies power,
genuine and vigorous power. And this innate pith and power are just the
very thing we most admire in men, for it is the one gift which the gods
have dealt out to us with a less liberal hand than to men. Life indeed
generally dams its overflowing current, but I doubt whether this will be
the case with the stormy torrent of his energy; at any rate men such as
he is rush swiftly onwards, and are strong to the end, which sooner
or later is sure to overtake them; and I infinitely prefer such a wild
torrent to a shallow brook flowing over a plain, which hurts no one, and
which in order to prolong its life loses itself in a misty bog. He, if
any one, may be forgiven for his tumultuous career; for when he pleases
my brother's great qualities charm old and young alike, and are as
conspicuous and as remarkable as his faults--nay, I will frankly say his
crimes. And who in Greece or Egypt surpasses him in grasp and elevation
of mind?"

"You may well be proud of him," replied Zoe. "Not even Publius Scipio
himself can soar to the height reached by Euergetes."

"But, on the other hand, Euergetes is not gifted with the steady, calm
self-reliance of Cornelius. The man who should unite in one person the
good qualities of those two, need yield the palm, as it seems to me, not
even to a god!"

"Among us imperfect mortals he would indeed be the only perfect one,"
replied Zoe. "But the gods could not endure the existence of a perfect
man, for then they would have to undertake the undignified task of
competing with one of their own creatures."

"Here, however, comes one whom no one can accuse!" cried the young
queen, as she hastened to meet a richly dressed woman, older than
herself, who came towards her leading her son, a pale child of two
years old. She bent down to the little one, tenderly but with impetuous
eagerness, and was about to clasp him in her arms, but the fragile
child, which at first had smiled