Thus, then, I read the vision, though to my sense it had a darker meaning. But it is not well to prophesy evil unto Kings. Meanwhile Cleopatra had risen, and, having thrown back the gnat gauze, was seated upon the edge of her couch, her eyes fixed upon my face, while her fingers played with her girdle’s jewelled ends. “Of a truth,” she cried, “thou art the best of all magicians, for thou readest my heart, and drawest a hidden sweet out of the rough shell of evil omen!” “Ay, O Queen,” said Charmion, who stood by with downcast eyes, and I thought that there was bitter meaning in her soft tones; “may no rougher words ever affront thy ears, and no evil presage tread less closely upon its happy sense.” Cleopatra placed her hands behind her head and, leaning back, looked at me with half-shut eyes. “Come, show us of thy magic, Egyptian,” she said. “It is yet hot abroad, and I am weary of those Hebrew Ambassadors and their talk of Herod and Jerusalem. I hate that Herod, as he shall find--and will have none of the Ambassadors to-day, though I yearn a little to try my Hebrew on them. What canst thou do? Hast thou no new trick? By Serapis! if thou canst conjure as well as thou canst prophesy, thou shalt have a place at Court, with pay and perquisites to boot, if thy lofty soul does not scorn perquisites.” “Nay,” I answered, “all tricks are old; but there are some forms of magic to be rarely used, and with discretion, that may be new to thee, O Queen! Art thou afraid to venture on the charm?” “I fear nothing; go on and do thy worst. Come, Charmion, and sit by me. But, stay, where are all the girls?--Iras and Merira?--they, too, love magic.” “Not so,” I said; “the charms work ill before so many. Now behold!” and, gazing at the twain, I cast my wand upon the marble and murmured a spell. For a moment it was still, and then, as I muttered, the rod slowly began to writhe. It bent itself, it stood on end, and moved of its own motion. Next it put on scales, and behold it was a serpent that crawled and fiercely hissed. “Fie on thee!” cried Cleopatra, clapping her hands; “callest thou that magic? Why, it is an old trick that any wayside conjurer can do. I have seen it a score of times.” “Wait, O Queen,” I answered, “thou hast not seen all.” And, as I spoke, the serpent seemed to break in fragments, and from each fragment grew a new serpent. And these, too, broke in fragments and bred others, till in a little while the place, to their glamoured sight, was a seething sea of snakes, that crawled, hissed, and knotted themselves in knots. Then I made a sign, and the serpents gathered themselves round me, and seemed slowly to twine themselves about my body and my limbs, till, save my face, I was wreathed thick with hissing snakes. “Oh, horrible! horrible!” cried Charmion, hiding her countenance in the skirt of the Queen’s garment. “Nay, enough, Magician, enough!” said the Queen: “thy magic overwhelms us.”