his service would soon be claimed; for Octavianus's
delay was scarcely an indication of a favourable decision of Cleopatra's
fate.

True, she was permitted to live in royal state at Lochias, and had even
been allowed to have the children, the twins, and little Alexander sent
back to her with the promise that life and liberty would be granted
them; but Caesarion--whose treacherous tutor Rhodon lured him from the
journey southward back to Alexandria by all sorts of representations,
among them the return of Barine--was held prisoner in his father's
temple, where he had sought refuge. This news, and the fact that
Octavianus had condemned to death the youth who bore so striking a
resemblance to Caesar, had not remained concealed from the unhappy
mother. She was also informed of the words in which the philosopher
Arius had encouraged Caesar's desire to rid himself of the son of
his famous uncle. They referred to the Homeric saying concerning the
disadvantage of having many rulers.

Everything which Cleopatra desired to know concerning events in the city
reached her ears; for she was allowed much liberty-only she was closely
watched day and night, and all the servants and officials to whom she
granted an audience were carefully searched to keep from her all means
of self-destruction.

True, it was very evident that she had closed her account with life. Her
attempt to take no food and die of starvation must have been noticed.
Threats directed against the children, through whom she could be most
easily influenced, finally induced her to eat again. Octavianus was
informed of all these things, and his conduct proved his anxiety to keep
her from suicide.

Several Asiatic princes vied with each other in the desire to honour
Mark Antony by a magnificent funeral, but Octavianus had allowed
Cleopatra to provide the most superb obsequies. In the time of her
deepest anguish it afforded her comfort and satisfaction to arrange
everything herself, and even perform some offices with her own hands.
The funeral had been as gorgeous as the dead man's love of splendour
could have desired.

Iras and Charmian were often unable to understand how the Queen--who,
since Antony's death, had suffered not only from the wounds she had
inflicted upon herself in her despair, but also after her baffled
attempt at starvation from a slow fever--had succeeded in resisting the
severe exertions and mental agitation to which she had been subjected by
Antony