pressions of
disbelief, assuming at last a tone of reproach, that he grew vexed and
broke out into a positive declaration that he regarded lying as unmanly
and disgraceful, and could endure any insult rather than a doubt of his
veracity.

Such a vehement and energetic remonstrance from a man she had
distinguished was a novelty to Cleopatra, and she did not take it amiss,
for she might now believe--what she much wished to believe--that Publius
wanted to have nothing to do with the fair Hebe, that Eulaeus had
slandered her friend, and that Zoe had been in error when, after her vain
expedition to the temple--from which she had then just returned--she had
told her that the Roman was Irene's lover, and must at the earliest hour
have betrayed to the girl herself, or to the priests in the Serapeum,
what was their purpose regarding her.

In the soul of this noble youth there was nothing false--there could be
nothing false! And she, who was accustomed never to hear a word from the
men who surrounded her without asking herself with what aim it was
spoken, and how much of it was dissimulation or downright falsehood,
trusted the Roman, and was so happy in her trust that, full of gracious
gaiety, she herself invited Publius to give her the recluse's petition to
read. The Roman at once gave her the roll, saying that since it contained
so much that was sad, much as he hoped she would make herself acquainted
with it, he felt himself called upon also to give her some pleasure,
though in truth but a very small one. Thus speaking he produced the gems,
and she showed as much delight over this little work of art as if,
instead of being a rich queen and possessed of the finest engraved gems
in the world, she were some poor girl receiving her first gift of some
long-desired gold ornament.

"Exquisite, splendid!" she cried again and again. "And besides, they are
an imperishable memorial of you, dear friend, and of your visit to Egypt.
I will have them set with the most precious stones; even diamonds will
seem worthless to me compared with this gift from you. This has already
decided my sentence as to Eulaeus and his unhappy victims before I read
your petition. Still I will read that roll, and read it attentively, for
my husband regards Eulaeus as a useful--almost an indispensable-tool, and
I must give good reasons for my verdict and for the pardon. I believe in
the innocence of the unfortunate Philotas, but if he had committed a
hundred mur