They continued to talk. Antony was ready to be persuaded. The light wound to his vanity made him sensitive to appeals to his honour. The future spread out before him. Where would the life of a love-sick satrap lead him?
Suddenly he cried, grasping his friend's hand: "You are right; to-morrow I will go with you." And with a firm step he turned toward Cleopatra's bedchamber.
She was lying on a low couch, awaiting her lover, but she was more than usually eager for his coming this evening. He had been morose at supper. What had been the trouble? Was he annoyed at the joke she had played on him?
Charmian was beside her, trying to comfort her. Surely Antony understood a joke!
The soothing sound of the sea came in through the windows. Just outside the curtain of her room Antony heard the question: "Do you believe he will always love me?"
His heart was softened and he thought: "How can I hurt the most tender of women?" Going in, he looked at her without speaking, and she asked:
"What is it? Of what are you thinking?"
He hesitated. Then, suddenly, like one who takes his courage in both hands, he cried:
"Beyond all question I must go away."
She looked at him, incredulous. This was worse than all her fears.