shed the Queen to gain
the victory. She, who always feared the worst, saw in imagination the
fortunes of war change--and there was reason for the belief. The bold
general who had gained so many victories, and whom the defeat of Actium
had only humbled, was said to have regained his former elasticity. He
had dashed forward at the head of his men with the heroic courage of
former days--nay, with reckless impetuosity. Rumour reported that, with
the huge sword he wielded, he had dealt from his powerful charger blows
as terrible as those inflicted five-and-twenty years before when, not
far from the same spot, he struck Archelaus on the head. The statement
that, in his golden armour, with the gold helmet framing his bearded
face, he resembled his ancestor Herakles, was confirmed by Charmian,
who had been borne quickly hither by a pair of the Queen's swift horses.
Cleopatra might need her soon, yet she had left the Lochias to question
the father about many things concerning the young mother and her boy,
who was already dear to her as the first grandson of the man whose
suit, it is true, she had rejected, but to whom she owed the delicious
consciousness of having loved and been loved in the springtime of life.

Dion found her changed. The trying months which she had described in her
letters to Barine had completely blanched her grey hair, her cheeks were
sunken, and a deep line between her mouth and nose gave her pleasant
face a sorrowful expression. Besides, she seemed to have been weeping
and, in fact, heart-rending events had just occurred.

She had stolen away from Lochias in the midst of a revel.

Antony's victory was being celebrated. He himself presided at the
banquet. Again his head and breast were wreathed with a wealth of fresh
leaves and superb flowers. At his side reclined Cleopatra, robed in
light-blue garments adorned with lotus-flowers which, like the little
coronet on her head, glittered with sapphires and pearls. Charmian said
she had rarely looked more beautiful. But she did not add that the Queen
had been obliged to have rouge applied to her pale, bloodless cheeks.

It was touching to see Antony after his return from the battle, still in
his suit of mail, clasp her in his arms as joyously as if he had won her
back, a prize of victory, and with his vanished heroic power regained
her and their mutual love. Her eyes, too, had been radiant with joy and,
in the elation of her heart, she had given the horseman wh