At last she was so tortured by this canker of jealousy that she determined to put it away from her. By stupendous effort she tried to make herself believe that her love for Antony was dead, that she had never really cared for him and that consequently his marriage was a matter of indifference to her. In order to convince both herself and the world of this indifference she resumed her former life of dissipation with the young men of her court. Restrained no longer by those burning bonds that had kept her true to Antony, she went recklessly from one excess to another. Each involved a new degradation, each exhausted her by its gross intoxication, but nowhere could she find that oblivion for which her feverish heart longed. Crush, profane, trample on it, as she would, the memory of her cherished idol could not be rooted out. With inexhaustible persistence it pursued her; even in the warm embrace of her most ardent adorers, it came to make her shiver with horror at her own disloyalty to her lover. Wherever she went his dear image would appear suddenly before her, would cover her with his reproachful glance, as though he asked: "Why are you acting as though all were over between us? In spite of this seeming separation we are bound together in spirit for all eternity. Like ships, scattered for a time by the tempest, we shall surely come together again." Her eyes smarted with tears as she invented excuses for her faithless lover. Surely he had been forced into this marriage for political reasons and against his will. Who had gained by this trap save Octavius? Who else would profit by this unholy alliance? This scheme had been devised by that cunning fellow that he might make his sister a sentinel to watch over Antony and report his doings to his colleague. The brute! Half vexed, half tenderly, she would again invoke the loved image, addressing him in imagination: "How guileless you were! You who had every right to rule, who could have chosen your mate and controlled the world--why should you play such a petty part, be made to obey like a little child? Oh! the pity of it!" And then a ray of hope gleamed. That same weakness which had taken her lover away from her arms might be used to restore him to her. Her kisses were indelibly printed on his forehead; why should she not re-kindle that fire which was probably still smouldering? And in one of those ecstasies, which were like a torch touched by a passing spark, she cried aloud: "I will tempt him back again! The hour is not far off when I shall carry him away from Rome, from his wife, from Octavius, from all who have thought that they were stronger than I."