and soon after of the desertion of the cavalry and foot soldiers.

A distinguished citizen had seen Mark Antony, accompanied by several
friends, dashing down the quay. The goal of their flight was the little
palace on the Choma.

Grave men, whose opinion met with little opposition, thought that it was
the duty of the Imperator--now that Fate had decided against him, and
nothing remained save a life sullied by disgrace--to put himself to death
with his own hand, like Brutus and so many other noble Romans. Tidings
soon came that he had attempted to do what the best citizens expected.

Gorgias could not endure to remain longer in the Forum, but hastened to
the Choma, though it was difficult to force his way to the wall, where a
breach had been made. He had found the portion of the shore from which
the promontory ran densely crowded with people--from whom he learned that
Antony was no longer in the palace--and the sea filled with boats.

A corpse was just being borne out of the little palace on the Street of
the King and, among those who followed, Gorgias recognized one of
Antony's slaves. The man's eyes were red with weeping. He readily
obeyed the architect's sign and, sobbing bitterly, told him that the
hapless general, after his army had betrayed him, fled hither. When he
heard in the palace that Cleopatra had preceded him to Hades, he ordered
his body-slave Eros to put an end to his life also. The worthy man drew
back, pierced his own breast with his sword, and sank dying at his
master's feet; but Antony, exclaiming that Eros's example had taught him
his duty, thrust the short sword into his breast with his own hand. Yet
deep and severe as was the wound, it did not destroy the tremendous
vitality of the gigantic Roman. With touching entreaties he implored the