d by the power which, though so heavily burdened with
physical and mental suffering, she still possessed over the strongest
and coldest of men, she perceived what was passing in his soul, and a
smile of triumph, blended with the most bitter contempt, hovered around
her beautiful lips. Should she dupe him into granting her wishes by
feigning love for the first time? Should she yield to the man who
had insulted her, in order to induce him to accord the children their
rights? Should she, to gratify her lover's foe, relinquish the sacred
grief which was drawing her after him, give posterity and her children
the right to call her, instead of the most loyal of the loyal, a
dishonoured woman, who sold herself for power?

To all these questions came a prompt denial. The single stride which
Octavianus had made towards her, his eyes aflame with love, gave her the
right to feel that she had vanquished the victor, and the proud delight
of triumph was too plainly reflected in her mobile features to escape
the penetrating, distrustful gaze of the subjugated Caesar.

But he had scarcely perceived what threatened him, and remembered her
words concerning his famous uncle's surrender only to her and to death,
when he succeeded in conquering his quickly kindled senses. Blushing at
his own weakness, he averted his eyes from the Queen, and when he met
those of Proculejus and the other witnesses of the scene, he realized
the abyss on whose verge he stood. He had half succumbed to the danger
of losing, by a moment's weakness, the fruit of great sacrifices and
severe exertions.

His expressive eyes, which had just rested rapturously upon a beautiful
woman, now scanned the spectators with the stern glance of a monarch
and, apparently wishing to moderate an excess of flattering recognition
which might be misinterpreted, he said in an almost pedagogical tone:

"Yet we would rather see the noble lioness in the majestic repose which
best suits all sovereigns. It is difficult for a calm, deliberate nature
like mine to understand an ardent, quickly kindling heart."

Cleopatra had watched this sudden transition with more surprise than
disappointment. Octavianus had half surrendered to her, but recovered
his self-command in time, and a man of his temperament does not readily
succumb twice to a danger which he barely escaped. And this was well! He
should learn that he had misunderstood the glance which fired his heart;
so she answered distantly, wit