the right track. Among the Scythian guards, the Mauritanians, and
Blemmyes in the army there were plenty of savage fellows whom a word from
her lips and a handful of gold would have set upon the vanquished Antony,
as the huntsman's "Seize him!" urges the hounds. A hint, and among the
wretched magicians and Magians in the Rhakotis, the Egyptian quarter of
the city, twenty men would have assassinated him by poison or wily
snares; one command to the Macedonians in the guard of the Mellakes or
youths, and he would be a captive that very day, and to-morrow, if she
so ordered, on the way to Asia, whither Octavianus, as Timagenes told
her, had gone.

What prevented her from grasping the gold, giving the hint, issuing the
command?

Doubtless she thought of the magic goblet, now melted, which had
constrained him to cast aside honour, fame, and power, as worthless
rubbish, in order to obey her behest not to leave her; but though this
remembrance burdened her soul, it had no decisive influence. It was no
one thing which prisoned her hand and lips, but every fibre of her being,
every pulsation of her heart, every glance back into the past to the
confines of childhood.

Yet she listened to other thoughts also. They reminded her of her
children, the elation of power, love for the land of her ancestors,
and the peril which menaced it without her, the bliss of seeing the
light, and the darkness, the silence, the dull rigidity of death, the
destruction of the body and the mind cherished and developed with so much
care and toil, the horrible torture which might be associated with the
transition from life to death--the act of dying. And what lay before her
in the existence which lasted an eternity? When she no longer breathed