's
horsemen; but Lucilius, at the risk of being cut down, had personated
him, and thereby, though but for a short time, rescued him. This had
seemed to Antony unusual and noble and, in his generous manner, he had
not only forgiven him, but bestowed his favour upon him. Lucilius was
grateful, and gave him the same fidelity he had showed to Brutus. At
Actium he had risked Antony's favour to prevent his deserting Cleopatra
after the battle, and then accompanied him in his flight. Now he was
bearing him company in his seclusion on the Choma.

The grey-haired man who, but a short time before, had retained all
the vigour of youth, approached the Queen with bowed head and saddened
heart. His face, so regular in its contours, had undergone a marked
change within the past few weeks. The cheeks were sunken, the features
had grown sharper, and there was a sorrowful expression in the eyes,
which, when informing Cleopatra of his friend's condition, glittered
with tears.

Before the hapless battle he was one of Cleopatra's most enthusiastic
admirers; but since he had been forced to see his friend and benefactor
risk fame, happiness, and honour to follow the Queen, he had cherished a
feeling of bitter resentment towards her. He would certainly have spared
himself this mission, had he not been sure that she who had brought her
lover to ruin was the only person who could rouse him from spiritless
languor to fresh energy and interest in life.

From motives of friendship, urged by no one, he came unbidden to the
woman whom he had formerly so sincerely admired, to entreat her to
cheer the unfortunate man, rouse him, and remind him of his duty. He had
little news to impart; for on the voyage she had herself witnessed long
enough the pitiable condition of her husband. Now Antony was beginning
to be content in it, and this was what most sorely troubled the faithful
friend.

The Imperator had called the little palace which he occupied on the
Choma his Timonium, because he compared himself with the famous Athenian
misanthrope who, after fortune abandoned him, had also been betrayed by
many of his former friends. Even at Taenarum he had thought of returning
to the Choma, and by means of a wall, which would separate it from the
mainland, rendering it as inaccessible as--according to rumour--the
grave of Timon at Halae near Athens. Gorgias had erected it, and
whoever wished to visit the hermit was forced to go by sea and request
admittance, w