been of comfort to us. Now,
therefore, he shall be rewarded according to his deserts and the measure
of his faithfulness, and that from thine own hand. Give him thy golden
cup of wine, and let him drink a pledge to our success; the cup shall be
his guerdon."

And still wondering, Antony gave it to the man, who, stricken in his
guilty mind, took it, and stood trembling. But he drank not.

"Drink! thou slave; drink!" cried Cleopatra, half rising from her seat
and flashing a fierce look on his white face. "By Serapis! so surely as
I yet shall sit in the Capitol at Rome, if thou dost thus flout the Lord
Antony, I'll have thee scourged to the bones, and the red wine poured
upon thy open wounds to heal them! _Ah!_ at length thou drinkest! Why,
what is it, good Eudosius? art sick? Surely, then, this wine must be as
the water of jealousy of those Jews, that has power to slay the false
and strengthen the honest only. Go, some of you, search this man's room;
methinks he is a traitor!"

Meanwhile the man stood, his hands to his head. Presently he began to
tremble, and then fell, clutching at his bosom, as though to tear
out the fire in his heart. He staggered, with livid, twisted face and
foaming lips, to where Cleopatra lay watching him with a slow and cruel
smile.

"Ah, traitor! thou hast it now!" she said. "Prithee, is death sweet?"

"Thou wanton!" yelled the dying man, "thou hast poisoned me! Thus mayst
thou also perish!" and with one shriek he flung himself upon her. She
saw his purpose, and swift and supple as a tiger sprang to one side,
so that he did but grasp her royal cloak, tearing it from its emerald
clasp. Down he fell upon the ground, rolling over and over in the purple
chiton, till presently he lay still and dead, his tormented face and
frozen eyes peering ghastly from its folds.

"Ah!" said the Queen, with a hard laugh, "the slave died wondrous hard,
and fain would have drawn me with him. See, he has borrowed my garment
for a pall! Take him away and bury him in his livery."

"What means Cleopatra?" said Antony, as the guards dragged the corpse
away; "the man drank of my cup. What is the purpose of this most sorry
jest?"

"It serves a double end, noble Antony! This very night that man would
have fled to Octavianus, bearing of our treasure with him. Well, I have
lent him wings, for the dead fly fast! Also this: thou didst fear that
I should poison thee, my Lord; nay, I know it. See now, Antony, how easy
it