But she interrupted him with a decisive “Never!” and laid her hand on the frame as if to protect it. Philostratus, however, was not to be put off; he went on in a tone of the deepest disappointment: “This portrait is yours, and no one can wonder at your refusal. We must, therefore, consider how to attain our end without this important ally.” Berenike’s gaze had lingered calmly on the sweet face while he spoke, looking more and more deeply into the beautiful, expressive features. All was silent.
At last she slowly turned to Melissa, who stood gazing sadly at the ground, and said in a low voice: “She resembled you in many ways. The gods had formed her to shed joy and light around her. Where she could wipe away a tear she always did so. Her portrait is speechless, and yet it tells me to act as she herself would have acted. If this work can indeed move Caracalla to clemency, then—You, Philostratus, really think so?”
“Yes,” he replied, decisively. “There can be no better mediator for Alexander than this work.” Berenike drew herself up, and said:
“Well, then, to-morrow morning early, I will send it to you at the Serapeum. The portrait of the dead may perish if it may but save the life of him who wrought it so lovingly.” She turned away her face as she gave the philosopher her hand, and then hastily left the room.
Melissa flew after her and, with overflowing gratitude, besought the sobbing lady not to weep.
“I know something that will bring you greater comfort than my brother’s picture: I mean the living image of your Korinna—a young girl; she is here in Alexandria.”
“Zeno’s daughter Agatha?” said Berenike; and when Melissa said yes, it was she, the lady went on with a deep sigh: “Thanks for your kind thought, my child; but she, too, is lost to me.”
And as she spoke she sank on a couch, saying, in a low voice, “I would rather be alone.”
Melissa modestly withdrew into the adjoining room, and Philostratus, who had been lost in the contemplation of the picture, took his leave.
He did not make use of the imperial chariot in waiting for him, but returned to his lodgings on foot, in such good spirits, and so well satisfied with himself, as he had not been before since leaving Rome.