But I, listening, put forth my strength, and, by the arts I have, castthe shadow of my Spirit upon the Spirit of Cleopatra so that she feltthe presence of the lost Harmachis.
"Nay, what is it?" she said. "By Serapis! I grow afraid! It seems tome that I feel Harmachis here! His memory overwhelms me like a flood ofwaters, and he these ten years dead! Oh! at such a time it is unholy!"
"Nay, O Queen," I answered, "if he be dead then he is everywhere, andwell at such a time--the time of thy own death--may his Spirit draw nearto welcome thine at its going."
"Speak not thus, Olympus. I would see Harmachis no more; the countbetween us is too heavy, and in another world than this more evenly,perchance should we be matched. Ah, the terror passes! I was butunnerved. Well the fool's story hath served to wile away the heaviest ofour hours, the hour which ends in death. Sing to me, Charmion, sing, forthy voice is very sweet, and I would soothe my soul to sleep. The memoryof that Harmachis has wrung me strangely! Sing, then, the last song Ishall hear from those tuneful lips of thine, the last of so many songs."
"It is a sad hour for song, O Queen!" said Charmion; but, nevertheless,she took her harp and sang. And thus she sang, very soft and low, thedirge of the sweet-tongued Syrian Meleager:
Tears for my lady dead, Heliodore! Salt tears and strange to shed, Over and o'er; Go tears and low lament Fare from her tomb, Wend where my lady went, Down through the gloom-- Sighs for my lady dead, Tears do I send, Long love remembered, Mistress and friend! Sad are the songs we sing, Tears that we shed, Empty the gifts we bring-- Gifts to the dead! Ah, for my flower, my Love, Hades hath taken, Ah, for the dust above, Scattered and shaken! Mother of blade and grass, Earth, in thy breast Lull her that gentlest was, Gently to rest!
The music of her voice died away, and it was so sweet and sad that Irasbegan to weep and the bright tears stood in Cleopatra's stormy eyes.Only I wept not; my tears were dry.
"'Tis a heavy song of thine, Charmion," said the Queen. "Well, as thousaidst, it is a sad hour for song, and thy dirge is fitted to the hour.Sing it over me once again when I lie dead, Charmion. And now farewellto music, and on to the end. Olympus, take yonder parchment and writewhat I shall say."
I took the parchment and the reed, and wrote thus in the Roman tongue:
"Cleopatra to Octavianus, greeting.
"This is the state of life. At length there comes an hour when, ratherthan endure those burdens that overwhelm us, putting off the body wewould take wing into forgetfulness. Caesar, thou hast conquered: takethou the spoils of victory. But in thy triumph Cleopatra cannot walk.When all is lost, then we must go to seek the lost. Thus in the desertof Despair the brave do harvest Resolution. Cleopatra hath been greatas Antony was great, nor shall her fame be minished in the manner ofher end. Slaves live to endure their wrong; but Princes, treading with afirmer step, pass through the gates of Wrong into the royal Dwellings ofthe Dead. This only doth Egypt ask of Caesar--that he suffer her to liein the tomb of Antony. Farewell!"
This I wrote, and having sealed the writing, Cleopatra bade me go find amessenger, despatch it to Caesar, and then return. So I went, and at thedoor of the tomb I called a soldier who was not on duty, and, giving himmoney, bade him take the letter to Caesar. Then I went back, and there inthe chamber the three women stood in silence, Cleopatra clinging to thearm of Iras, and Charmion a little apart watching the twain.
"If indeed thou art minded to make an end, O Queen," I said, "the timeis short, for presently Caesar will send his servants in answer to thyletter," and I drew forth the phial of white and deadly bane and set itupon the board.
She took it in her hand and gazed thereon. "How innocent it seems!" shesaid; "and yet therein lies my death. 'Tis strange."
"Ay, Queen, and the death of ten other folk. No need to take so long adraught."
"I fear," she gasped--"how know I that it will slay outright? I haveseen so many die by poison and scarce one has died outright. Andsome--ah, I cannot think on them!"
"Fear not," I said, "I am a master of my craft. Or, if thou dostfear, cast this poison forth and live. In Rome thou mayst still findhappiness; ay, in Rome, where thou shalt walk in Caesar's triumph, whilethe laughter of the hard-eyed Latin women shall chime down the music ofthy golden chains."
"Nay, I will die, Olympus. Oh, if one would but show the path."
Then Iras loosed her hand and stepped forward. "Give me the draught,Physician," she said. "I go to make ready for my Queen."
"It is well," I answered; "on thy own head be it!" and I poured from thephial into a little golden goblet.
She raised it, curtsied low to Cleopatra, then, coming forward, kissedher on the brow, and Charmion she also kissed. This done, tarrying notand making no prayer, for Iras was a Greek, she drank, and, putting herhand to her head, instantly fell down and died.
"Thou seest," I said, breaking in upon the silence, "it is swift."
"Ay, Olympus; thine is a master drug! Come now, I thirst; fill me thebowl, lest Iras weary in waiting at the gates!"
So I poured afresh into the goblet; but this time, making pretenceto rinse the cup, I mixed a little water with the bane, for I was notminded that she should die before she knew me.
Then did the royal Cleopatra, taking the goblet in her hand, turn herlovely eyes to heaven and cry aloud:
"O ye Gods of Egypt! who have deserted me, to you no longer will I pray,for your ears are shut unto my crying and your eyes blind to my griefs!Therefore, I make entreaty of that last friend whom the Gods, departing,leave to helpless man. Sweep hither, Death, whose winnowing wingsenshadow all the world, and give me ear! Draw nigh, thou King of Kings!who, with an equal hand, bringest the fortunate head of one pillow withthe slave, and by thy spiritual breath dost waft the bubble of our lifefar from this hell of earth! Hide me where winds blow not and waterscease to roll; where wars are done and Caesar's legions cannot march!Take me to a new dominion, and crown me Queen of Peace! Thou art myLord, O Death, and in thy kiss I have conceived. I am in labour of aSoul: see--it stands new-born upon the edge of Time! Now--now--go, Life!Come, Sleep! Come, Antony!"
And, with one glance to heaven, she drank, and cast the goblet to theground.