h the most furious
reproaches, but more frequently with expressions of boundless delight
and wild outbursts of fervent longing, and this was what inspired
Lucilius with the hope that the Queen's influence would be effectual
with his friend. Therefore he repeated some especially ardent words, to
which Cleopatra listened with grateful joy.

Yet, when Lucilius paused, she remarked that doubtless the misanthropist
had spoken of her, and probably of Octavia also, in quite a different
way. She was prepared for the worst, for she was one of the rocks
against which his greatness had been shattered.

This reminded Lucilius of the comment Antony had made upon the three
women whom he had wedded, and he answered reluctantly: "Fulvia, the wife
of his youth--I knew the bold, hot-blooded woman, the former wife of
Clodius--he called the tempest which swelled his sails."

"Yes, Yes!" cried Cleopatra. "So she did. He owes her much; but I, too,
am indebted to the dead Fulvia. She taught him to recognize and yield to
woman's power."

"Not always to his advantage," retorted Lucilius, whose resentment was
revived by the last sentence and, without heeding the faint flush on the
Queen's cheek, he added: "Of Octavia he said that she was the straight
path which leads to happiness, and those who are content to walk in it
are acceptable to gods and men."

"Then why did he not suffer it to content him?" cried Cleopatra
wrathfully.

"Fulvia's school," replied the Roman, "was probably the last where
he would learn the moderation which--as you know--is so alien to his
nature. His opinion of the quiet valleys and middle course you have just
heard."

"But I, what have I been to him?" urged the Queen.

Lucilius bent his gaze for a short time on the floor, then answered
hesitatingly:

"You asked to hear, and the Queen's command must be obeyed. He compared
your Majesty to a delicious banquet given to celebrate a victory, at
which the guests, crowned with garlands, revel before the battle--"

"Which is lost," said the Queen hurriedly, in a muffled voice. "The
comparison is apt. Now, after the defeat, it would be absurd to prepare
another feast. The tragedy is closing, so the play (doubtless he said
so) which preceded it would be but a wearisome repetition if performed
a second time. One thing, it is true, seems desirable--a closing act of
reconciliation. If you think it is in my power to recall my husband to
active life, rely upon me. The banqu