and
volcanoes which bring destruction, and, if the original character of any
individual is full of such devastating forces, like the neighbourhood of
Vesuvius or Etna, the goal to which his impulses would lead him is
clearly visible. Ay, the Stoic is not allowed to destroy the harmony and
order of things in existence, any more than to disturb those which are
established by the state. But to follow our natural impulses wherever
they lead us is so perilous a venture, that whoever has the power to fix
a limit to it betimes is in duty bound to do so. This power is mine, and
I will use it!"

Then, with iron severity, she asked: "As it seems to be one of the
demands of your nature, woman, to allure and kindle the hearts of all who
bear the name of man, even though they have not yet donned the garb of
the Ephebi, so, too, you seem to appear to delight in idle ornaments.
Or," and as she spoke she touched Barine's shoulder"--or why should you
wear, during the hours of slumber, that circlet on your arm?"

Barine had watched with increasing anxiety the marked change in the
manner and language of the Queen. She now beheld a repetition of what she
had experienced at the Adonis festival, but this time she knew what had
roused Cleopatra's jealousy. She, Barine, wore on her arm a gift from
Antony. With pallid face she strove to find a fitting answer, but ere she
could do so Iras advanced to the side of the incensed Queen, saying:
"That circlet is the counterpart of the one your august husband bestowed
upon you. The singer's must also be a gift from Mark Antony. Like every
one else in the world, she deems the noble Imperator the greatest man of
his day. Who can blame her for prizing it so highly that she does not
remove it even while she sleeps?"

Again Barine felt as if a thorn had pierced her; but though the
resentment which she had previously experienced once more surged hotly
within her heart, she forced herself to maintain seemly external
composure, and struggled for some word in answer; but she found none
suitable, and remained silent.

She had told the truth. From early youth she had followed the impulses of
her own nature without heeding the opinion of mortals, as the teachings
of the Stoics directed, and she had been allowed to do so because this
nature was pure, truthful, alive to the beautiful, and, moreover, free
from those unbridled, volcanic impulses to which the Queen alluded. The
cheerful patience of her soul had fo