Now there was Cornelius Dolabella, a youth of rank, and one of the companions of Caesar. He was not without a certain liking towards Cleopatra; and now, in order to gratify her request, he secretly sent and informed her that Caesar himself was going to march with his troops through Syria, and that he had determined to send off her with her children on the third day. On hearing this, Cleopatra first entreated Caesar to permit her to pour libations on the tomb of Antonius; and when Caesar permitted it, she went to the tomb, and embracing the coffin in company with the women who were usually about her, said, “Dear Antonius, I buried thee recently with hands still free, but now I pour out libations as a captive and so watched that I cannot either with blows or sorrow disfigure this body of mine now made a slave and preserved to form a part in the triumph over thee. But expect not other honours or libations, for these are the last which Cleopatra brings. Living, nothing kept us asunder, but there is a risk of our changing places in death; thou a Roman, lying buried here, and I, wretched woman, in Italy, getting only as much of thy country as will make me a grave. But if indeed there is any help and power in the gods there (for the gods of this country have deserted us), do not deliver thy wife up alive, and let not thyself be triumphed over in me, but hide me here with thee and bury thee with me; for though I have ten thousand ills, not one of them is so great and grievous as this short time which I have lived apart from thee!”