Cleopatra

  CHAPTER VI

  OF THE WORDS AND JEALOUSY OF CHARMION; OF THE LAUGHTER OF HARMACHIS; OFTHE MAKING READY FOR THE DEED OF BLOOD; AND OF THE

  I stood still, plunged in thought. Then by hazard as it were I took upthe wreath of roses and looked on it. How long I stood so I know not,but when next I lifted up my eyes they fell upon the form of Charmion,whom, indeed, I had altogether forgotten. And though at the moment Ithought but little of it, I noted vaguely that she was flushed as thoughwith anger, and beat her foot upon the floor.

  "Oh, it is thou, Charmion!" I said. "What ails thee? Art thou crampedwith standing so long in thy hiding-place? Why didst not thou slip hencewhen Cleopatra led me to the balcony?"

  "Where is my kerchief?" she asked, shooting an angry glance at me. "Ilet fall my broidered kerchief."

  "Thy kerchief!--why, didst thou not see? Cleopatra twitted me about it,and I flung it from the balcony."

  "Yes, I saw," answered the girl, "I saw but too well. Thou didst flingaway my kerchief, but the wreath of roses--that thou wouldst notfling away. It was 'a Queen's gift,' forsooth, and therefore the royalHarmachis, the Priest of Isis, the chosen of the Gods, the crownedPharaoh wed to the weal of Khem, cherished it and saved it. But mykerchief, stung by the laughter of that light Queen, he cast away!"

  "What meanest thou?" I asked, astonished at her bitter tone. "I cannotread thy riddles."

  "What mean I?" she answered, tossing up her head and showing the whitecurves of her throat. "Nay, I mean naught, or all; take it as thou wilt.Wouldst know what I mean, Harmachis, my cousin and my Lord?" she went onin a hard, low voice. "Then I will tell thee--thou art in danger of thegreat offence. This Cleopatra has cast her fatal wiles about thee, andthou goest near to loving her, Harmachis--to loving her whom to-morrowthou must slay! Ay, stand and stare at that wreath in thy hand--thewreath thou couldst not send to join my kerchief--sure Cleopatra wore itbut to-night! The perfume of the hair of Caesar's mistress--Caesar'sand others'--yet mingles with the odour of its roses! Now, prithee,Harmachis, how far didst thou carry the matter on yonder balcony? for inthat hole where I lay hid I could not hear or see. 'Tis a sweet spot forlovers, is it not?--ay, and a sweet hour, too? Venus surely rules thestars to-night?"

  All of this she said so quietly and in so soft and modest a way, thoughher words were not modest, and yet so bitterly, that every syllable cutme to the heart, and angered me till I could find no speech.

  "Of a truth thou hast a wise economy," she went on, seeing heradvantage: "to-night thou dost kiss the lips that to-morrow thou shaltstill for ever! It is frugal dealing with the occasion of the moment;ay, worthy and honourable dealing!"

  Then at last I broke forth. "Girl," I cried, "how darest thou speakthus to me? Mindest thou who and what I am that thou loosest thy peevishgibes upon me?"

  "I mind what it behoves thee to be," she answered quick. "What thou art,that I mind not now. Surely thou knowest alone--thou and Cleopatra!"

  "What meanest thou?" I said. "Am I to blame if the Queen----"

  "The Queen! What have we here? Pharaoh owns a Queen!"

  "If Cleopatra wills to come hither of a night and talk----"

  "Of stars, Harmachis--surely of stars and roses, and naught beside!"

  After that I know not what I said; for, troubled as I was, the girl'sbitter tongue and quiet way drove me wellnigh to madness. But this Iknow: I spoke so fiercely that she cowered before me as she had coweredbefore my uncle Sepa when he rated her because of her Grecian garb. Andas she wept then, so she wept now, only more passionately and with greatsobs.

  At length I ceased, half-shamed but still angry and smarting sorely.For even while she wept she could find a tongue to answer with--and awoman's shafts are sharp.

  "Thou shouldst not speak to me thus!" she sobbed; "it is cruel--it isunmanly! But I forget thou art but a priest, not a man--except, mayhap,for Cleopatra!"

  "What right hast thou?" I said. "What canst thou mean?"

  "What right have I?" she asked, looking up, her dark eyes all afloodwith tears that ran down her sweet face like the dew of morning downa lily's heart. "What right have I? O Harmachis! art thou blind? Didstthou not know by what right I speak thus to thee? Then I must tell thee.Well, it is the fashion in Alexandria! By that first and holy right ofwoman--by the right of the great love I bear thee, and which, it seems,thou hast no eyes to see--by the right of my glory and my shame. Oh,be not wroth with me, Harmachis, nor set me down as light, because thetruth at last has burst from me; for I am not so. I am what thou wiltmake me. I am the wax within the moulder's hands, and as thou dostfashion me so I shall be. There breathes within me now a breath ofglory, blowing across the waters of my soul, that can waft me to endsmore noble than ever I have dreamed afore, if thou wilt be my pilotand my guide. But if I lose thee, then I lose all that holds me from myworse self--and let shipwreck come! Thou knowest me not, Harmachis! thoucanst not see how big a spirit struggles in this frail form of mine! Tothee I am a girl, clever, wayward, shallow. But I am more! Show me thyloftiest thought and I will match it, the deepest puzzle of thy mindand I will make it clear. Of one blood we are, and love can ravel up ourlittle difference and make us grow one indeed. One end we have, one landwe love, one vow binds us both. Take me to thy heart, Harmachis, set meby thee on the Double Throne, and I swear that I will lift thee higherthan ever man has climbed. Reject me, and beware lest I pull thee down!And now, putting aside the cold delicacy of custom, stung to it by whatI saw of the arts of that lovely living falsehood, Cleopatra, whichfor pastime she practises on thy folly, I have spoken out my heart, andanswer thou!" And she clasped her hands and, drawing one pace nearer,gazed, all white and trembling, on my face.

  For a moment I stood struck dumb, for the magic of her voice and thepower of her speech, despite myself, stirred me like the rush of music.Had I loved the woman, doubtless she might have fired me with her flame;but I loved her not, and I could not play at passion. And so thoughtcame, and with thought that laughing mood, which is ever apt to fashionupon nerves strained to the point of breaking. In a flash, as it were,I bethought me of the way in which she had that very night forced thewreath of roses on my head, I thought of the kerchief and how I hadflung it forth. I thought of Charmion in the little chamber watchingwhat she held to be the arts of Cleopatra, and of her bitter speeches.Lastly, I thought of what my uncle Sepa would say of her could he seeher now, and of the strange and tangled skein in which I was inmeshed.And I laughed aloud--the fool's laughter that was my knell of ruin!

  She turned whiter yet--white as the dead--and a look grew upon her facethat checked my foolish mirth. "Thou findest, then, Harmachis," shesaid in a low, choked voice, and dropping the level of her eyes, "thoufindest cause of merriment in what I have said?"

  "Nay," I answered; "nay, Charmion; forgive me if I laughed. It wasrather a laugh of despair; for what am I to say to thee? Thou hastspoken high words of all thou mightest be: is it left for me to tellthee what thou art?"

  She shrank, and I paused.

  "Speak," she said.

  "Thou knowest--none so well!--who I am and what my mission is: thouknowest--none so well!--that I am sworn to Isis, and may, by law Divine,have naught to do with thee."

  "Ay," she broke in, in her low voice, and with her eyes still fixed uponthe ground--"ay, and I know that thy vows are broken in spirit, if notin form--broken like wreaths of cloud; for, Harmachis--_thou lovestCleopatra!_"

  "It is a lie!" I cried. "Thou wanton girl, who wouldst seduce me from myduty and put me to an open shame!--who, led by passion or ambition, orthe love of evil, hast not shamed to break the barriers of thy sex andspeak as thou hast spoken--beware lest thou go too far! And if thou wilthave an answer, here it is, put straightly, as thy question. Charmion,outside the matter of my duty and my vows, thou art _naught_ to me!--norfor all thy tender glances will my heart beat one pulse more fast!Hardly art thou now my friend--for, of a truth, I scarce can trust thee.But, once more: beware! To me thou mayest do thy worst; but if thou dostdare
to lift a finger against our cause, that day thou diest! And now,is this play done?"

  And as, wild with anger, I spoke thus, she shrank back, and yet furtherback, till at length she rested against the wall, her eyes covered withher hand. But when I ceased she dropped her hand, glancing up, and herface was as the face of a statue, in which the great eyes glowed likeembers, and round them was a ring of purple shadow.

  "Not altogether done," she answered gently; "the arena must yet besanded!" This she said having reference to the covering up of thebloodstains at the gladiatorial shows with fine sand. "Well," she wenton, "waste not thine anger on a thing so vile. I have thrown my throwand I have lost. _Vae victis!_--ah! _Vae victis!_ Wilt thou not lend methe dagger in thy robe, that here and now I may end my shame? No? Thenone word more, most royal Harmachis: if thou canst, forget my folly;but, at the least, have no fear from me. I am now, as ever, thy servantand the servant of our cause. Farewell!"

  And she went, leaning her hand against the wall. But I, passing tomy chamber, flung myself upon my couch, and groaned in bitterness ofspirit. Alas! we shape our plans, and by slow degrees build up our houseof Hope, never counting on the guests that time shall bring to lodgetherein. For who can guard against--the Unforeseen?

  At length I slept, and my dreams were evil. When I woke the light ofthe day which should see the red fulfilment of the plot was streamingthrough the casement, and the birds sang merrily among the garden palms.I woke, and as I woke the sense of trouble pressed in upon me, for Iremembered that before this day was gathered to the past I must dipmy hands in blood--yes, in the blood of Cleopatra, who trusted me! Whycould I not hate her as I should? There had been a time when I looked onto this act of vengeance with somewhat of a righteous glow of zeal. Andnow--and now--why, I would frankly give my royal birthright to be freefrom its necessity! But, alas! I knew that there was no escape. Imust drain this cup or be for ever cast away. I felt the eyes of Egyptwatching me, and the eyes of Egypt's Gods. I prayed to my Mother Isisto give me strength to do this deed, and prayed as I had never prayedbefore; and oh, wonder! no answer came. Nay, how was this? What, then,had loosed the link between us that, for the first time, the Goddessdeigned no reply to her son and chosen servant? Could it be that Ihad sinned in heart against her? What had Charmion said--that I lovedCleopatra? Was this sickness love? Nay! a thousand times nay!--it wasbut the revolt of Nature against an act of treachery and blood. TheGoddess did but try my strength, or perchance she also turned her holycountenance from murder?

  I rose filled with terror and despair, and went about my task like a manwithout a soul. I conned the fatal lists and noted all the plans--ay, inmy brain I gathered up the very words of that proclamation of my Royaltywhich, on the morrow, I should issue to the startled world.

  "Citizens of Alexandria and dwellers in the land of Egypt," it began,"Cleopatra the Macedonian hath, by the command of the Gods, sufferedjustice for her crimes----"

  All these and other things I did, but I did them as a man without asoul--as a man moved by a force from without and not from within. And sothe minutes wore away. In the third hour of the afternoon I went as byappointment fixed to the house where my uncle Sepa lodged, that samehouse to which I had been brought some three months gone when I enteredAlexandria for the first time. And here I found the leaders of therevolt in the city assembled in secret conclave to the number ofseven. When I had entered, and the doors were barred, they prostratedthemselves, and cried, "Hail, Pharaoh!" but I bade them rise, sayingthat I was not yet Pharaoh, for the chicken was still in the egg.

  "Yea, Prince," said my uncle, "but his beak shows through. Not invain hath Egypt brooded all these years, if thou fail not with thatdagger-stroke of thine to-night; and how canst thou fail? Nothing cannow stop our course to victory!"

  "It is on the knees of the Gods," I answered.

  "Nay," he said, "the Gods have placed the issue in the hands of amortal--in thy hands, Harmachis!--and there it is safe. See: here arethe last lists. Thirty-one thousand men who bear arms are sworn to risewhen the tidings come to them. Within five days every citadel in Egyptwill be in our hands, and then what have we to fear? From Rome butlittle, for her hands are full; and, besides, we will make alliance withthe Triumvirate, and, if need be, buy them off. For of money there isplenty in the land, and if more be wanted thou, Harmachis, knowest whereit is stored against the need of Khem, and outside the Roman's reachof arm. Who is there to harm us? There is none. Perchance, in thisturbulent city, there may be struggle, and a counter-plot to bringArsinoe to Egypt and set her on the throne. Therefore Alexandria mustbe severely dealt with--ay, even to destruction, if need be. As forArsinoe, those go forth to-morrow on the news of the Queen's death whoshall slay her secretly."

  "There remains the lad Caesarion," I said. "Rome might claim throughCaesar's son, and the child of Cleopatra inherits Cleopatra's rights.Here is a double danger."

  "Fear not," said my uncle; "to-morrow Caesarion joins those who begat himin Amenti. I have made provision. The Ptolemies must be stamped out,so that no shoot shall ever spring from that root blasted by Heaven'svengeance."

  "Is there no other means?" I asked sadly. "My heart is sick at thepromise of this red rain of blood. I know the child well; he hasCleopatra's fire and beauty and great Caesar's wit. It were shame tomurder him."

  "Nay, be not so chicken-hearted, Harmachis," said my uncle, sternly."What ails thee, then? If the lad is thus, the more reason that heshould die. Wouldst thou nurse up a young lion to tear thee from thethrone?"

  "Be it so," I answered, sighing. "At least he is spared much, and willgo hence innocent of evil. Now for the plans."

  We sat long taking counsel, till at length, in face of the greatemergency and our high emprise, I felt something of the spirit offormer days flow back into my heart. At the last all was ordered, and soordered that it could scarce miscarry, for it was fixed that if by anychance I could not come to slay Cleopatra on this night, then the plotshould hang in the scale till the morrow, when the deed must be doneupon occasion. For the death of Cleopatra was the signal. These mattersbeing finished, once more we stood and, our hands upon the sacredsymbol, swore the oath that may not be written. And then my unclekissed me with tears of hope and joy standing in his keen black eyes. Heblessed me, saying that he would gladly give his life, ay, and a hundredlives, if they were his, if he might but live to see Egypt once morea nation, and me, Harmachis, the descendant of its royal and ancientblood, seated on the throne. For he was a patriot indeed, asking nothingfor himself, and giving all things to his cause. And I kissed him inturn, and thus we parted. Nor did I ever see him more in the flesh whohas earned the rest that as yet is denied to me.

  So I went, and, there being yet time, walked swiftly from place to placein the great city, taking note of the positions of the gates and of theplaces where our forces must be gathered. At length I came to that quaywhere I had landed, and saw a vessel sailing for the open sea. I looked,and in my heaviness of heart longed that I were aboard of her, to beborne by her white wings to some far shore where I might live obscureand die forgotten. Also I saw another vessel that had dropped down theNile, from whose deck the passengers were streaming. For a moment Istood watching them, idly wondering if they were from Abouthis, whensuddenly I heard a familiar voice beside me.

  "_La! la!_" said the voice. "Why, what a city is this for an old womanto seek her fortune in! And how shall I find those to whom I am known?As well look for the rush in the papyrus-roll.[*] Begone! thou knave!and let my basket of simples lie; or, by the Gods, I'll doctor thee withthem!"

  [*] Papyrus was manufactured from the pith of rushes. Hence Atoua's saying.--Editor.

  I turned, wondering, and found myself face to face with my foster-nurse,Atoua. She knew me instantly, for I saw her start, but in the presenceof the people she checked her surprise.

  "Good Sir," she whined, lifting her withered countenance towards me, andat the same time making the secret sign. "By thy dress thou shouldst bean astronomer, and I
was specially told to avoid astronomers as a packof lying tricksters who worship their own star only; and, therefore, Ispeak to thee, acting on the principle of contraries, which is law to uswomen. For surely in this Alexandria, where all things are upsidedown, the astronomers may be the honest men, since the rest are clearlyknaves." And then, being by now out of earshot of the press, "royalHarmachis, I am come charged with a message to thee from thy fatherAmenemhat."

  "Is he well?" I asked.

  "Yes, he is well, though waiting for the moment tries him sorely."

  "And his message?"

  "It is this. He sends greeting to thee and with it warning that a greatdanger threatens thee, though he cannot read it. These are his words:'Be steadfast and prosper.'"

  I bowed my head and the words struck a new chill of fear into my soul.

  "When is the time?" she asked.

  "This very night. Where goest thou?"

  "To the house of the honourable Sepa, Priest of Annu. Canst thou guideme thither?"

  "Nay, I may not stay; nor is it wise that I should be seen with thee.Hold!" and I called a porter who was idling on the quay, and, giving hima piece of money, bade him guide the old wife to the house.

  "Farewell," she whispered; "farewell till to-morrow. Be steadfast andprosper."

  Then I turned and went my way through the crowded streets, where thepeople made place for me, the astronomer of Cleopatra, for my fame hadspread abroad.

  And even as I went my footsteps seemed to beat _Be steadfast, Besteadfast, Be steadfast_, till at last it was as though the very groundcried out its warning to me.