in the meridian of their splendor, was already at hand. The knell of her destiny had even now sounded, though her ear caught not the echo.

Brutus and Cassius, beneath whose daggerseven at the foot of Pompey's statue-great Cæsar fell" shortly after, so far from being the objects of her disgust and abhorrence, received both arms and money from Cleopatra, to assist in their war against the Triumvirate. Marc Antony accordingly sent a summons to the queen, to appear and justify herself for this conduct; and again placing reliance rather upon her personal advantages than on the justice of her cause, which this time was more equivocal than on the former occasion, she determined to bring over Antony to her interests in the same manner as that by which she had subdued Cæsar. No expense nor consideration was spared to render her appearance before him as effective as possible. Attended by a retinue gorgeously appointed, and bearing with her a profusion of splendid presents, she set out to meet him, proceeding through Syria toward Asia Minor. Upon her way she received several letters from him, written from Tarsus, where he then was, pressing her to hasten her journey; but these she received with supreme indifference, and traveled as one thinking about a pleasurable visit rather than a citation from a superior.

She reached the Cydnus to launch a freight upon its liquid bosom unrivaled in the annals of magnificence and triumph. The galley which bore the

beautiful Egyptian princess was a marvel of gorgeous ornament, radiant with gold, the cordage of silk, the sails purple. Meanwhile, surrounded by her attendants, their mistress reclined upon deck beneath an awning, and boys, dressed as Cupids, "stood fanning with their painted wings the winds that played about her face." We cannot do better than give the picture drawn of this historical scene by the hand of our greatest poet:

"The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,
Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that

The winds were love-sick with them: the oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made

The water, which they beat, to follow faster,

As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,
It beggar'd all description: she did lie

In her pavilion, (cloth of gold, of tissue,)
O'erpicturing that Venus, where we see
The fancy outwork nature: on each side her
Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
With diverse-colored fans, whose wind did seem
To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
And what they undid, did.

Her gentlewomen like the Nereides,

So many mermaids, tended her in' the eyes
And made their bends adornings: at the helm
A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle
Swells with the touches of those flower-soft hands
That yarely frame the office. From the barge
A strange invisible perfume hits the sense
Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast
Her people out upon her; and Antony,
Enthroned in' the market-place, did sit alone,
Whistling to the air, which, but for vacancy,
Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,
And made a gap in Nature."

Thus, up the river upon which Tarsus stood, sailed Cleopatra; and as she approached her destination, crowds of people lined the shores, who, raising altars in her honor, ushered her to the presence of Marc Antony, with clouds of incense and storms of acclamation.

"'T was heaven, or somewhat more!

For she so charm'd all hearts, that gazing crowds
Stood panting on the shore, and wanted breath
To give their welcome voice."

Cleopatra was at this time twenty-five-the very acme of her loveliness. No longer the designing girl, scarcely cognizant of her own beauty, though anxious to turn it to the best account, she was now fully aware of the graces with which nature had endowed her favorite; for had she not tested them, and in every case come off the conqueror? Not a single detail was omitted to give her the appearance and create the impression most calculated to take prisoner the tastes or weaknesses of Antony; and so complete was the effect she had justly calculated on, that a rumor spread throughout the city, as it poured forth to receive and welcome her, that it "was the goddess Venus, arriving in masquerade to make Bacchus a visit for the good of Asia.”

So landing, she was received by the emissaries of Antony, who invited her, at their master's bidding, to sup with him that evening. This invitation was not accepted. Cleopatra was impatient to commence her scheme of conquest, and it better suited the effect

she intended to produce, that she should play the hostess rather than the guest. Accordingly, she pleaded fatigue in excuse; and proposed that he should banquet with her in tents hastily arranged upon the banks of the river. Thousands of colored lamps were, under her direction, hung among the branches, and the gloom of midnight was converted into day.

Antony, whose somewhat coarse nature was easily influenced by display and pomp, was overwhelmed with surprise and admiration at the reception given him by the Queen of Egypt, and the following day entertained his fair visitor in return; and now banquet succeeded banquet, each surpassing the preceding in magnificence, though Antony confessed himself fairly outdone by his rival's extravagance. On every occasion she entered so completely into the spirit of the hour, that he beheld in her a second self, an exact reflection of his wishes and predilections, clothed in the fanciful and graceful robes alternately of the goddesses Venus, Isis, or the crescent-crowned huntress of the woods, who at his side made bright the sylvan dimness with the sunshine of her presence.

It was at one of these feasts that the anecdote of the pearl, immortalized in poetry and painting, occurred. This act of the queen's reckless improvidence was the result of a wager between herself and Antony, that she would preside at a banquet of which the cost of one single dish should exceed the whole outlay of his series of fêtes. The bet was accepted. This done,

Cleopatra ordered a single cup of vinegar to be placed before her, and when the curiosity of those around her was excited to the highest point, she took from her ears two pearls, the smaller of which was valued at what would be about $250,000 of our money, and, dissolving it in the acid, drank it to the health of Antony. The second was about to follow its companion when Plancus, the umpire, saved its sacrifice, by declaring Antony overcome. This pearl, afterward divided, formed the earrings for the celebrated statue of Venus, placed by Agrippa in the Pantheon at Rome. The description of vinegar which Cleopatra made use of to dissolve her pearl, without injuring her own health, is lost to posterity.

Her lover accompanied her to the capital of her kingdom, where still more gorgeous scenes were enacted to amuse and keep him near her. But at last the news arrived that Fulvia, his wife, was dead, and he returned to Rome with the ulterior intention of, at no lengthened interval, marching against the Parthians. What must have been the jealousy of Cleopatra when, instead of herself, whom he had promised to espouse, she heard that her fickle admirer had married Octavia, the widow of Marcellus, a lady of great beauty, and deservedly beloved by all who were happy enough to be near her!

For a considerable period Cleopatra was now forsaken; and she appears to have endeavored to distract her attention from disappointment by some means of an estimable character. Upon the site of the