e of the defeated Candidus and Antony's messenger like a
heroine. But afterwards----Her raving did not last long; but the mute,
despairing silence! Ere she had fully recovered her self-command she sent
us all away, and I have not seen her since. But all the thoughts and
feelings which dwell here"--he pointed to his brow and breast--"have left
their abode and linger with her. I totter from place to place like a
soulless body. O Charmian! what has befallen us? Where are the days when
care and trouble lay buried with the other dead--the days and nights when
my brain united with that of the Queen to transform this desolate earth
into the beautiful Elysian Fields, every-day life to a festival,
festivals to the very air of Olympus? What unprecedented scenes of
splendour had I not devised for the celebration of the victory, the
triumph--nay, even the entry into Rome! Whole chests are filled with the
sketches, programmes, drawings, and verses. All who handle brush and
chisel, compose and execute music, would have lent their aid, and--you
may believe me-the result would have been something which future
generations would have discussed, lauded, and extolled in song. And
now--now?"

"Now we will double our efforts to save what is yet to be rescued!"

"Rescued?" repeated the courtier in a hollow tone. "The Queen, too, still
clings to this fine word. When I saw her at work yesterday, it seemed as
if I beheld her drawing water with the bottomless vessel of the Danaides.
True, today, when I left her, her arms had fallen--and in this attitude
she now stands before me with her tearful eyes. And besides, I can't get
my nephew Dion out of my mind. Cares--nothing but cares concerning him!
And my intentions towards him were so kind! My will gives him my entire
fortune; but now he actually wants to marry the singer, the daughter of
the artist Leonax. You have taken her under your protection, but surely
your own niece, Iras, is dearer to you, so you will approve of my
destroying the will if Dion insists upon his own way. He shall not have a
solidus of my property if he does not give up the woman who is a thorn in
the Queen's flesh. And his choice does not suit our ancient race. Iras,
on the contrary, was Dion's playfellow, and I have long destined her for
his wife. No better match, nor one more acceptable to the Queen, could be
found for him. He cared for her until the singer bewitched him. Bring
them together, and they shall be like my own c