She was anxious, however. She wondered how she would be received by this man who was accustomed to the guile of the Romans, this powerful ruler to whom everyone, the most virtuous as well as the most corrupt, was compelled to yield. For Cæsar's reputation was world-wide, and everyone knew that the great captain, writer, jurist, and orator was a libertine at heart. In addition to those excesses common to all young men, in which he had indulged amidst the gaieties of the world, it was well known that his adventures had brought grief to many households, not excepting those of his best friends; and it was in no kindly spirit that his name was coupled with the phrase: _omnium mulierum vir_--the husband of all women. Cleopatra, however, was needlessly disturbed. To a temperament craving novelty, originality, fresh experience; to nerves tired as were those of the Emperor, what vision could appeal so intensely as that of this queenly young woman? From the first moment, as he gazed on the rhythmic, harmonious grace of her body; her low, straight brows, the golden light in her eyes; her delicate nostrils, her parted, sensuous lips, her radiant, amber-coloured flesh, suggesting luscious sun-kissed fruit, Cæsar had felt an indescribable thrill run through his veins. Never, no, never before, had the West, or Rome itself, with her ardent virgins, her tempting, seductive matrons, offered him anything so intoxicating. Ready to grant everything that he might attain the height of his desire, he asked: "What can I do for you? What do you seek?" With charming tact, Cleopatra replied in Latin, which she spoke with the same ease that she did Greek, Egyptian, Syrian, and several other languages. She described the tyranny of which she had been the victim, the criminal injustice which had made her a wanderer, and, with a confiding air which was irresistible, she said that she trusted in the omnipotence of Cæsar to restore her crown. Her voice was sweet and winning. The things she said, her claims against her usurping brother, became, the moment they left her lips, irrefutable truths. Why should they not have seemed so to the gallant judge, fascinated by the starry light in her wonderful, dark eyes? Cæsar's first impulse was to grant all her demands. But there were grave difficulties in the way. He had gone to Egypt on a friendly visit and had only a few troops stationed there. Those of Ptolemy, on the other hand, were legion and well prepared to defend their sovereign. Discretion forbade rashness. This was no time to "let slip the dogs of war." With enthusiasm, yet with a well-balanced judgment surprising in so young a woman, Cleopatra tried to touch Cæsar with her own fire. If he could not start the invasion at once, let him summon his armies as quickly as possible, and while awaiting their arrival, proclaim her reigning queen.