such sore sorrow, he pointed to the gigantic bouquet, which three slaves
had lifted down from the elephant and were bearing to the Queen.
Cleopatra, too, was overwhelmed with emotion.

This floral gift imitated, on an immense scale, the little bouquet which
the famous young general had taken from her father's hand before the gate
of the garden of Epicurus to present to her as his first gift. That had
also been composed of red roses, surrounded by white ones. Instead of
palm fronds, it had been encircled only by fern leaves. This was one of
the beautiful offerings which Antony's gracious nature so well understood
how to choose. The bouquet was a symbol of the unprecedented generosity
natural to this large-minded man. No magic goblet had compelled him to
approach her thus and with such homage. Nothing had constrained him,
save his overflowing heart, his constant, fadeless love.

As if restored to youth, transported by some magic spell to the happy
days of early girlhood, she forgot her royal dignity and the hundreds of
eyes which rested upon him as if spell-bound; and, obedient to an
irresistible impulse of the heart, she sank upon the broad, heaving
breast of the kneeling hero. Laughing joyously in the clear, silvery
tones which are usually heard only in youth, he clasped her in his strong
arms, raised her slender figure in its floating royal mantle from the
ground, kissed her lips and eyes, held her aloft in the soaring attitude
of the Goddess of Victory, as if to display his happiness to the eyes of
all, and at last placed her carefully on her feet again like some
treasured jewel.

Then, turning to the children, who were waiting at their mother's side,
he lifted first little Alexander, then the twins, to kiss them; and,
while holding Helios and Selene in his arms, as if the joy of seeing them