The visit to the Soma, that gigantic mausoleum, where the body of Alexander of Macedon lay in its crystal coffin, was of tremendous interest to a man whose only thought was glory. It is said that Cæsar, in the presence of the illustrious remains, had exclaimed: "I weep, because at my age this man had already conquered the world." His nephew, even more ambitious, examined the mummy long and carefully. He seemed to be questioning it, as though he were not satisfied with merely looking at the earthly form of him who had conceived and carried out such marvellous ambitions. He had the lid which covered the body raised, and, greedy to the point of profanation, he dared to handle the skull. Cleopatra had been taken back to her apartments in the Bruchium. She was kept carefully out of sight of the people. Honours were not lacking; but these honours merely served to accentuate the fact that she was a captive, as they were all rendered by Roman functionaries. For fear of poison her clothes, her boxes, her person even, were continually searched. Her greatest trial was the continual presence of Epaphroditus, a eunuch of Octavius, who, according to instructions, played the part of courtier and under his obsequious manner concealed his role of jailor. Emotion, disaster, grief, had finally broken Cleopatra's buoyant nature. That wound she had made in tearing her breast had become inflamed. Fever set in. The physicians pronounced the malady serious, possibly fatal. For an instant the unhappy woman believed that the merciful gods were going to save her from self-slaughter; and she gave herself up to the disease as to a generous current. So far from resisting it, she aided it, refused all medicine, and would take no nourishment. Octavius was alarmed. Although he had obtained the treasure, he wanted the woman as well. He desired her perfect, not injured in any way. In all her beauty she would be the crowning glory of his triumphant return to Rome. Trusting no one but himself to look after her health, which for that cruel reason was precious to him, he sent her word of his visit, thinking by this mark of respect to disarm his captive and deceive her as to his motives. His calculations, at first, seemed successful. On hearing that the Imperator was coming to see her Cleopatra improved somewhat. She decided to defer dying for the present! Before that irreparable deed she wished to see her enemy, to know what she was to hope or to fear from him. Much has been written on the meeting of these two remarkable figures, who, after the manner of augurs, approached each other wearing masks. The object of the Imperator was definite. But what was her dream? What temptations assailed that mistress of the art of seduction to try her fatal powers once more? What hope did she have in those last days? That was the undiscoverable secret of a soul already on its way to eternity.