"Oh! now I must think of my children. Dear little souls! How can I leave them? At least I must know what their future in Rome will be!"
Her children! Cæsarion, Ptolemy, Antyllas, they were the first prizes that Octavius had seized. Defrauded of his principal victim, these innocent children would be sacrificed to their mother's insubordination.
The executioner went on with his hypocritical smile:
"Have no fear for them, Madame. Their fate is in your hands. If you put your faith in me and comply with my requests, no harm shall come to them."
She knew just how much this assurance was worth. She knew that the unhappy children would have to suffer; but she feigned confidence.
"I have the word of Octavius."
"And will you in return, beautiful Cleopatra, swear that you will not try to kill yourself? That you will not refuse to accompany me to Rome?"
In this frightful comedy, with a vain knave on one side, and the honour of a Queen on the other, who would win?
Cleopatra gave her word.
"You are my sovereign master," she replied, bending her beautiful head. "Wherever you choose to take me I will follow you submissively."