The Sisters — Complete by Georg Ebers (reading diary txt) 📕

out well, we are forced to admit with astonishment that you always choose the best way, though often a tortuous one.”

For a short time the king was alone, sitting with his black brows knit, and gazing meditatively at the floor. But as soon as he heard the soft foot-fall of Eulaeus, and the louder step of his guide, he once more assumed the aspect of a careless and reckless man of the world, shouted a jolly welcome to Eulaeus, reminded him of his, the king’s, boyhood, and of how often he, Eulaeus, had helped him to persuade his mother to grant him some wish she had previously refused him.

“But now, old boy,” continued the king, “the times are changed, and with you now-a-days it is everything for Philometor and nothing for poor Euergetes, who, being the younger, is just the one who most needs your assistance.”

Eulaeus bowed with a smile which conveyed that he understood perfectly how little the king’s last words were spoken in earnest, and he said:

“I purposed always to assist the weaker of you two, and that is what I believe myself to be doing now.”

“You mean my sister?”

“Our sovereign lady Cleopatra is of the sex which is often unjustly called the weaker. Though you no doubt were pleased to speak in jest when you asked that question, I feel bound to answer you distinctly that it was not Cleopatra that I meant, but King Philometor.”

“Philometor? Then you have no faith in his strength, you regard me as stronger than he; and yet, at the banquet to-day, you offered me your services, and told me that the task had devolved upon you of demanding the surrender of the little serving-maiden of Serapis, in the king’s name, of Asclepiodorus, the high-priest. Do you call that aiding the weaker? But perhaps you were drunk when you told me that?

“No? You were more moderate than I? Then some other change of views must have taken place in you; and yet that would very much surprise me, since your principles require you to aid the weaker son of my mother—”

“You are laughing at me,” interrupted the courtier with gentle reproachfulness, and yet in a tone of entreaty. “If I took your side it was not from caprice, but simply and expressly from a desire to remain faithful to the one aim and end of my life.”

“And that is?”

“To provide for the welfare of this country in the same sense as did your illustrious mother, whose counsellor I was.”

“But you forget to mention the other—to place yourself to the best possible advantage.”

“I did not forget it, but I did not mention it, for I know how closely measured out are the moments of a king; and besides, it seems to me as self-evident that we think of our personal advantage as that when we buy a horse we also buy his shadow.”

“How subtle! But I no more blame you than I should a girl who stands before her mirror to deck herself for her lover, and who takes the same opportunity of rejoicing in her own beauty.

“However, to return to your first speech. It is for the sake of Egypt as you think—if I understand you rightly—that you now offer me the services you have hitherto devoted to my brother’s interests?”

“As you say; in these difficult times the country needs the will and the hand of a powerful leader.”

“And such a leader you think I am?”

“Aye, a giant in strength of will, body and intellect—whose desire to unite the two parts of Egypt in your sole possession cannot fail, if you strike and grasp boldly, and if—”

“If?” repeated the king, looking at the speaker so keenly that his eyes fell, and he answered softly:

“If Rome should raise no objection.”

Euergetes shrugged his shoulders, and replied gravely:

“Rome indeed is like Fate, which always must give the final decision in everything we do. I have certainly not been behindhand in enormous sacrifices to mollify that inexorable power, and my representative, through whose hands pass far greater sums than through those of the paymasters of the troops, writes me word that they are not unfavorably disposed towards me in the Senate.”

“We have learned that from ours also. You have more friends by the Tiber than Philometor, my own king, has; but our last despatch is already several weeks old, and in the last few days things have occurred—”

“Speak!” cried Euergetes, sitting bolt upright on his cushions. “But if you are laying a trap for me, and if you are speaking now as my brother’s tool, I will punish you—aye! and if you fled to the uttermost cave of the Troglodytes I would have you followed up, and you should be torn in pieces alive, as surely as I believe myself to be the true son of my father.”

“And I should deserve the punishment,” replied Eulaeus humbly. Then he went on: “If I see clearly, great events lie before us in the next few days.”

“Yes—truly,” said Euergetes firmly.

“But just at present Philometor is better represented in Rome than he has ever been. You made acquaintance with young Publius Scipio at the king’s table, and showed little zeal in endeavoring to win his good graces.”

“He is one of the Cornelii,” interrupted the king, “a distinguished young man, and related to all the noblest blood of Rome; but he is not an ambassador; he has travelled from Athens to Alexandria, in order to learn more than he need; and he carries his head higher and speaks more freely than becomes him before kings, because the young fellows fancy it looks well to behave like their elders.”

“He is of more importance than you imagine.”

“Then I will invite him to Alexandria, and there will win him over in three days, as surely as my name is Euergetes.”

“It will then be too late, for he has to-day received, as I know for certain, plenipotentiary powers from the Senate to act in their name in case of need, until the envoy who is to be sent here again arrives.”

“And I only now learn this for the first time!” cried the king springing up from his couch, “my friends must be deaf, and blind and dull indeed, if still I have any, and my servants and emissaries too! I cannot bear this haughty ungracious fellow, but I will invite him tomorrow morning—nay I will invite him to-day, to a festive entertainment, and send him the four handsomest horses that I have brought with me from Cyrene. I will—”

“It will all be in vain,” said Eulaeus calmly and dispassionately. “For he is master, in the fullest and widest meaning of the word, of the queen’s favor—nay—if I may permit myself to speak out freely—of Cleopatra’s more than warm liking, and he enjoys this sweetest of gifts with a thankful heart. Philometor—as he always does—lets matters go as they may, and Cleopatra and Publius—Publius and