pleasure-seeking, weather-vain, feverishly coquettish woman, this Parisienne of the olden time, this goddess of life, juggled and ruled over Egypt, the stark silent land of the dead. You know it well, that Egypt, that Mizraim full of mystery, that narrow Nile strip, looking like a coffin. In the high reeds still grinned the crocodile or the deserted child of Revelation. . .. Rock temples with colossal pillars, on which recline grotesque wild forms of horribly varied hues . . . in the portal nods the monk of Isis, with hieroglyphed head-gear . . . in luxurious villas, mummies are taking their siestas, and the gilded masks protect them from the swarms of flies of decay . . . there stand the slender obelisks and plump pyramids, like silent thoughts . . . in the background we are greeted by the mountains of the Moon of Ethiopia, which hide the sources of the Nile—everywhere death, stone, and mystery. And over this land, the beautiful Cleopatra ruled as queen.
How witty God is !
LAVINIA.
[TITUS ANDRONICUS.]
In Julius Cæsar we see the last throbs of the republican spirit, which struggles in vain with
