Ay, tremble! The powers that emanate from the glittering wonder are as terrible as they are unnatural.

The magic spell exerted by the beaker has transformed the heroic son of Herakles, the more than mortal, into the whimpering coward, the crushed, broken nonentity I found upon the galley's deck.
You are silent?
Your nimble tongue finds no reply.

How could you have forgotten that you aided me to win the wager which forced Antony to gaze into the beaker before I filled it for him?
How grateful I was to Anubis when he finally consented to trust to my care this marvel of the temple treasures, when the first trial succeeded, and Antony, at my bidding, placed the magnificent wreath which he wore upon the bald brow of that crabbed old follower of Aristoteles, Diomedes, whom he detested in his inmost soul! It was scarcely a year ago, and you know how rarely at first I used the power of the terrible vessel.

The man whom I loved obeyed my slightest glance, without its aid.

But later--before the battle--I felt how gladly he would have sent me, who might ruin all, back to Egypt.