approaching end as an inevitable necessity. Death seemed to her like a
journey which she must take in order to escape the most terrible
disgrace. Besides, life after the death of Antony was no longer the
same; it had been only a tiresome delay and waiting for the children's
sake.

The visit to the tomb had been intended, as it were, to announce her
coming to her husband. She had remained a long time in the silent hall,
where she had garlanded the coffin with flowers, kissed it, talked to the
dead man as if he were still alive, and told him that the day had come
when what he had mentioned in his will as the warmest desire of his
heart--to rest beside her in the same tomb--would be fulfilled. Among
the thousand forms of suffering which had assailed her, nothing had
seemed so hard to bear as to be deprived of his society and love.

Then she had gone into the garden, embraced and kissed the children, and
entreated them to remember her tenderly. Her purpose had not been
concealed from Archibius, but Charmian had told him the menace of the
future, and he approved her decision. By the exertion of all his innate
strength of will, he succeeded in concealing the grief which rent his
faithful heart. She must die. The thought of seeing her adorn the
triumphal procession of Octavianus was unbearable to him also. Her
thanks and entreaties to be an affectionate guardian to the children were
received with an external calmness which afterwards seemed to him utterly
incomprehensible.

When she spoke of her approaching meeting with her lover, he asked
whether she had entirely abandoned the teachings of Epicurus, who
believed that death absolutely ended existence.