In the midst of these preparations for defense and for death the vanquished of Actium sought to negotiate with their conqueror. Octavius, recalled to Rome by a threatened sedition of the veterans, had in the course of the winter gone to Syria, where he was concentrating his forces. Antony wrote to him; he reminded him of his former friendship, recalled his services, made excuses for the wrongs he had done, and ended by promising to lay down his arms on condition of being allowed to live as a private citizen at Alexandria. Octavius deigned no reply, nor did he reply to a second letter in which he offered to kill himself, provided that Cleopatra might continue to reign over Egypt. The queen on her side, and unknown to Antony, despatched an envoy to Octavius with rich gifts. Less generous than her lover, who had offered his life to secure her crown, she separated his cause from her own. The Egyptian envoy represented to Octavius that his hatred of Antony ought not to include the queen, who had had no part in the late events. It was Rome, said he, that declared war on Egypt, to bring matters to a close with Antony. Was not Cleopatra compelled to arm in her own defense? But now that Antony is overcome, compelled to exile or suicide, the Romans may safely show mercy to Cleopatra and leave her on the throne. That is far more to their interest than to force this powerful queen to a desperate struggle. Octavius already considered himself the master of Egypt—and of the world. He feared but little the broken sword in the hand of Antony, still less the shattered remains of the army of Cleopatra and the wrecks of her navy. But there were two things still beyond his power—all-powerful emperor as he was—the immense treasures of Cleopatra, on which he had reckoned to pay his legionaries, and Cleopatra herself, whom he wished to grace his triumph; she might escape the Roman by death and her treasure by fire. Traitors and spies were not lacking in Alexandria; and Octavius knew, through their reports, of the queen’s experiments in poisons as well as that she had collected all her treasures in her future tomb. He was compelled to employ cunning with the Egyptian, and, believing himself justified by the words of her ambassador to propose such a step, he declared that if the queen would compass Antony’s death she should preserve her sovereignty. Some days after, fearful that this somewhat savage diplomacy might not prevail with Cleopatra, he despatched to her Thyreus, his freedman. In Egypt, Thyreus talked openly before the court and Antony of the resentment of Octavius and of his severe decrees, but having obtained without difficulty a secret audience of Cleopatra he told her that he had been charged by his master to repeat his assurances that she had nothing to fear. To satisfy her of this, he pretended to confide to her that she was beloved by Octavius as of old by Cæsar and Antony. Cleopatra had many interviews with Thyreus and