Cleopatra

by H. Rider Haggard

  And as I sat and thought these things in bitterness of heart, there camea knocking at the door.

  "Open, Atoua!" I said.

  She rose and did my bidding; and a woman entered, clad in Grecian robes.It was Charmion, still beautiful as of old, but sad faced now and verysweet to see, with a patient fire slumbering in her downcast eyes.

  She entered unattended; and, speaking no word, the old wife pointed towhere I sat, and went.

  "Old man," she said, addressing me, "lead me to the learned Olympus. Icome upon the Queen's business."

  I rose, and, lifting my head, looked upon her.

  She gazed, and gave a little cry.

  "Surely," she whispered, glancing round, "surely thou art not that----"And she paused.

  "That Harmachis whom once thy foolish heart did love, O Charmion? Yes,I am he and what thou seest, most fair lady. Yet is Harmachis deadwhom thou didst love; but Olympus, the skilled Egyptian, waits upon thywords!"

  "Cease!" she said, "and of the past but one word, and then--why, letit lie. Not well, with all thy wisdom, canst thou know a true woman'sheart, if thou dost believe, Harmachis, that it can change with thechanges of the outer form, for then assuredly could no love follow itsbeloved to that last place of change--the Grave. Know thou, learnedPhysician, I am of that sort who, loving once, love always, and beingnot beloved again, go virgin to the death."

  She ceased, and having naught to say, I bowed my head in answer. Yetthough I said nothing and though this woman's passionate folly had beenthe cause of all our ruin, to speak truth, in secret I was thankfulto her who, wooed of all and living in this shameless Court, had stillthrough the long years poured out her unreturned love upon an outcast,and who, when that poor broken slave of Fortune came back in suchunlovely guise, held him yet dear at heart. For what man is there whodoes not prize that gift most rare and beautiful, that one perfect thingwhich no gold can buy--a woman's unfeigned love?

  "I thank thee that thou dost not answer," she said; "for the bitterwords which thou didst pour upon me in those days that long are dead,and far away in Tarsus, have not lost their poisonous sting, and in myheart is no more place for the arrows of thy scorn, new venomed throughthy solitary years. So let it be. Behold! I put it from me, that wildpassion of my soul," and she looked up and stretched out her hands asthough to press some unseen presence back, "I put it from me--thoughforget it I may not! There, 'tis done, Harmachis; no more shall my lovetrouble thee. Enough for me that once more my eyes behold thee, beforesleep seals thee from their sight. Dost remember how, when I would havedied by thy dear hand, thou wouldst not slay, but didst bid me live topluck the bitter fruit of crime, and be accursed by visions of the evilI had wrought and memories of thee whom I have ruined?"

  "Ay, Charmion, I remember well."

  "Surely the cup of punishment has been filled. Oh! couldst thou seeinto the record of my heart, and read in it the suffering that Ihave borne--borne with a smiling face--thy justice would be satisfiedindeed!"

  "And yet, if report be true, Charmion, thou art the first of all theCourt, and therein the most powerful and beloved. Does not Octavianusgive it out that he makes war, not on Antony, nor even on his mistress,Cleopatra, but on Charmion and Iras?"

  "Yes, Harmachis, and think that it has been to me thus, because of myoath to thee, to be forced to eat the bread and do the tasks of one whomso bitterly I hate!--one who robbed me of thee, and who, through theworkings of my jealousy, brought me to be that which I am, broughtthee to shame, and all Egypt to its ruin! Can jewels and riches and theflattery of princes and nobles bring happiness to such a one as I, whoam more wretched than the meanest scullion wench? Oh, I have often wepttill I was blind; and then, when the hour came, I must arise and tireme, and, with a smile, go do the bidding of the Queen and that heavyAntony. May the Gods grant me to see them dead--ay, the twain ofthem!--then myself I shall be content to die! Thy lot has been hard,Harmachis; but at least thou have been free, and many is the time that Ihave envied thee the quiet of thy haunted cave."

  "I do perceive, O Charmion, that thou art mindful of thy oaths; and itis well, for the hour of vengeance is at hand."

  "I am mindful, and in all things I have worked for thee in secret--forthee, and for the utter ruin of Cleopatra and the Roman. I have fannedhis passion and her jealousy, I have egged her on to wickedness andhim to folly, and of all have I caused report to be brought to Caesar.Listen! thus stands the matter. Thou knowest how went the fight atActium. Thither went Cleopatra with her fleet, sorely against the willof Antony. But, as thou sentest me word, I entreated him for the Queen,vowing to him, with tears, that, did he leave her, she would die ofgrief; and he, poor slave, believed me. And so she went, and in thethick of the fight, for what cause I know not, though perchance thouknowest, Harmachis, she made signal to her squadron, and, putting aboutfled from the battle, sailing for Peloponnesus. And now, mark the end!When Antony saw that she was gone, he, in his madness, took a galley,and deserting all, followed hard after her, leaving his fleet to beshattered and sunk, and his great army in Greece, of twenty legionsand twelve thousand horse, without a leader. And all this no man wouldbelieve, that Antony, the smitten of the Gods, had fallen so deep inshame. Therefore for a while the army tarried, and but now to-nightcomes news brought by Canidius, the General, that, worn with doubt andbeing at length sure that Antony had deserted them, the whole of hisgreat force has yielded to Caesar."

  "And where, then, is Antony?"

  "He has built him a habitation on a little isle in the Great Harbour andnamed it Timonium; because, forsooth, like Timon, he cries out at theingratitude of mankind that has forsaken him. And there he lies smittenby a fever of the mind, and thither thou must go at dawn, so wills theQueen, to cure him of his ills and draw him to her arms; for he willnot see her, nor knows he yet the full measure of his woe. But firstmy bidding is to lead thee instantly to Cleopatra, who would ask thycounsel."

  "I come," I answered, rising. "Lead thou on."

  And so we passed the palace gates and along the Alabaster Hall, andpresently once again I stood before the door of Cleopatra's chamber, andonce again Charmion left me to warn her of my coming.

  Presently she came back and beckoned to me. "Make strong thy heart," shewhispered, "and see that thou dost not betray thyself, for still are theeyes of Cleopatra keen. Enter!"

  "Keen, indeed, must they be to find Harmachis in the learned Olympus!Had I not willed it, thyself thou hadst not known me, Charmion," I madeanswer.

  Then I entered that remembered place and listened once more to the plashof the fountain, the song of the nightingale, and the murmur of thesummer sea. With bowed head and halting gait I came, till at length Istood before the couch of Cleopatra--that same golden couch on whichshe had sat the night she overcame me. Then I gathered my strength, andlooked up. There before me was Cleopatra, glorious as of old, but, oh!how changed since that night when I saw Antony clasp her in his arms atTarsus! Her beauty still clothed her like a garment; the eyes were yetdeep and unfathomable as the blue sea, the face still splendid in itsgreat loveliness. And yet all was changed. Time, that could not touchher charms, had stamped upon her presence such a look of weary grief asmay not be written. Passion, beating ever in that fierce heart of hers,had written his record on her brow, and in her eyes shone the sad lightsof sorrow.

  I bowed low before this most royal woman, who once had been my love anddestruction, and yet knew me not.

  She looked up wearily, and spoke in her slow, well remembered voice:

  "So thou art come at length, Physician. How callest thouthyself?--Olympus? 'Tis a name of promise, for surely now that the Godsof Egypt have deserted us, we do need aid from Olympus. Well, thou hasta learned air, for learning does not with beauty. Strange, too, there isthat about thee which recalls what I know not. Say, Olympus, have we metbefore?"

  "Never, O Queen, have my eyes fallen on thee in the body," I answeredin a feigned voice. "Never till this hour, when I come forth from mysolitude to do thy bidding and
cure thee of thy ills!"

  "Strange! and even in the voice--Pshaw! 'tis some memory that I cannotcatch. In the body, thou sayest? then, perchance, I knew thee in adream?"

  "Ay, O Queen; we have met in dreams."

  "Thou art a strange man, who talkest thus, but, if what I hear be true,one well learned; and, indeed, I mind me of thy counsel when thou didstbid me join my Lord Antony in Syria, and how things befell according tothy word. Skilled must thou be in the casting of nativities and in thelaw of auguries, of which these Alexandrian fools have little knowledge.Once I knew such another man, one Harmachis," and she sighed: "but he islong dead--as I would I were also!--and at times I sorrow for him."

  She paused, while I sank my head upon my breast and stood silent.

  "Interpret me this, Olympus. In the battle at that accursed Actium, justas the fight raged thickest and Victory began to smile upon us, a greatterror seized my heart, and thick darkness seemed to fall beforemy eyes, while in my ears a voice, ay, the voice of that long deadHarmachis, cried '_Fly! fly, or perish!_' and I fled. But from my heartthe terror leapt to the heart of Antony, and he followed after me, andthus was the battle lost. Say, then, what God brought this evil thingabout?"

  "Nay, O Queen," I answered, "it was no God--for wherein hast thouangered the Gods of Egypt? Hast thou robbed the temples of their Faith?Hast thou betrayed the trust of Egypt? Having done none of these things,how, then, can the Gods of Egypt be wroth with thee? Fear not, it wasnothing but some natural vapour of the mind that overcame thy gentlesoul, made sick with the sight and sound of slaughter; and as for thenoble Antony, where thou didst go needs must that he should follow."

  And as I spoke, Cleopatra turned white and trembled, glancing at methe while to find my meaning. But I well knew that the thing was of theavenging Gods, working through me, their instrument.

  "Learned Olympus," she said, not answering my words; "my Lord Antony issick and crazed with grief. Like some poor hunted slave he hides himselfin yonder sea-girt Tower and shuns mankind--yes, he shuns even me, who,for his sake, endure so many woes. Now, this is my bidding to thee.To-morrow, at the coming of the light, do thou, led by Charmion, mywaiting-lady, take boat and row thee to the Tower and there crave entry,saying that ye bring tidings from the army. Then he will cause you tobe let in, and thou, Charmion, must break this heavy news that Canidiusbears; for Canidius himself I dare not send. And when his grief is past,do thou, Olympus, soothe his fevered frame with thy draughts of value,and his soul with honeyed words, and draw him back to me, and all willyet be well. Do thou this, and thou shalt have gifts more than thoucanst count, for I am yet a Queen and yet can pay back those who servemy will."

  "Fear not, O Queen," I answered, "this thing shall be done, and I ask noreward, who have come hither to do thy bidding to the end."

  So I bowed and went and, summoning Atoua, made ready a certain potion.