Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-11-09
CLEOPATRA.
Being an Account of the Fall and Vengeance of Harmachis, the
 Royal Egyptian.

Vengeance of Harmachis, the
 Royal Egyptian.
 guards-four of them of the Queens body guard. mighty men with winged hamlets, and long, fair hair.
 ''Seize that traitor!' erred Cleopatra, pointing to me. The Captain of the guard-it was Brennus-saluted and came toward me with drawn sword.
 I woke to find myself in my own chamber in the tower of the palace. So weak was I that I scarce could lift my hand, and life seemed but futter in my breast as futters a dying dove. could not turn my head; could not stir; yet in my heart there was a sense of rest, and of dark trouble done. The light hurt my eyes; l shut them; and as I shat them, heard the sweep
 'sOh, what fenced city is my heart, that none can take it, and cen when throw wide open the doors no man may win it's citadell Oh, to put away this loneliness and lose mo in another's soul. Oh, for a year, month, an hour to quite forget poli- cy, peoples and my pomp of place, and be but loving womani Harmachis, fare thee welli Go join Great Julius whom thine art called up from death before me, and take ASOASN thee; and fooled dC@sar-perchance before 'tis done fate will find me and myself shall be fooledi Harmachis, fare thee wenr'
 She turned to go, and as she turned I heard the sweep of another dress and the light fall of another woman's foot.
 "Ahi 'tis thou, Charmion. We'll for all thy watching, the man dies"
 "Ay," she answered. in voice thick with grief. "Ay, O Queen, 50 say the physicians. Forty hours hath he been in stupor so deep that at times his breath could hardly lift this tiny feathers weight, and scarcejcould my ear, placed against his breast, take no- tice of the rising of his heart. For ten long days now have watched him day and night, till mine eyes stare wide open with want of sleep, and for faintness, scarce can keep myself from falling. And of all my labor this is the enda The blow of that ac- cursed Brennus has done it's work, and Harmachis dies!"
 sLove counts not it's labor, Charmion, nor can it weigh it's tenderness in the scale of purchase. That which it hath it gives, and craves for moro to give and give, till tho souls inf1nity be drained. Dear to thy heart are these nights of watching, sweet to thy weary eyes is that sad sight of strength brought so low that 1t hangs upon thy weakness like babe unto it's mothers breast! For, Charmion, thou dost love this man who loves not thee, and now that he is helpless thou canst pour thy passion o'er the unanswering darkness of his soul and cheat myself with dream of what yet might bel''
 II love him not, as thou hast proof, O Queenl How can love ono who would have slain thee, who art as my hearts sis teri Iris for pity that nurse him." She laughed g. little as che answered.: |: stPity is love's own twin, Wondrous way ward are the paths of woman's love, and thou hast shown thine strangely, that know. But the more high tho love tho moro deep the gulf whereinto it can fall ay, and thence soar again to heaven, once n2rc to fall! Poor woman, thou art thy passions plaything; now tender as the morning sky, and now, when jealousy grips thy heart, moro cruel than tho sea. Well, thus arc we made. Soon, afteP all this troubling raught will be left thee but tears, remorse and memory"
 And she went forth.