The Irish standard., 1889-12-14

VS.
] nar. bae gazed, ana gave q Lille cry .5a
i Surely, z she whispered, glancing round,3
sssurely thou art not that And she
! paused. III * s.. 55
+ ssThat Harmachis whom once thy Foolish
heart did love, O Charmion? Yea, am he's
| and what thou seest, most fair lady. Yets
is Harmachis dead whom thou didst love;
but Olympus, the skilled Egyptian, waits
upon thy words!' b
sCeasel'' she said, 'sand Of the past bus
one word, and tken-why, let it lie. Noe
well with all thy wisdom canst thou know
/ true woman's heart il thou dost believe,
Har1nachis, that it can change with the
| changes of the outer form, for then as
suredly could no love follow is beloved to
| that last place OF change--She Grave.
Know thou, learned Physician, an Of that
sort who, loving once, love always, and be-
| ing not beloved again, go virgin TO the
| DEATH -4
She ceased and, having naught 70 say, !
| bowed my head in answer. Yet, though
| naught said, and though this woman's
passionate folly had been the cause of all
our ruin, to speak truth, in secret was
| thankful to her who, wooed of all and living
| in this shameless Court, had still through
! the long years poured out her unreturned
love upon an outcast, and who, when that
poor broken slave Of Fortune came back IN
such unlovely guise, did yet hold him dear
at heart. For what man is there who does
not prize that gift most rare and beautiful,
thatone perfect thing which no gold can
buy-a woman's unfeigned loves
II thank thee that thou didst not an
| swer, " she said; s'for the bitter words which
thou didst pour upon me in those days that
long are dead, aid far away in Tarsus, have
not lost their poisonous sting, and in my
! heartis no more place for the arrows OF thy
scorn, new venomed through thy solitary
years. So let it be. Behold! / put il from
| me, that wild passion of my SOUL" and she
| looked up and stretched out her hands as
! though to press some unseen presence back.
| II put it from me--though forget it I may
mott There, tits done, Harmachis; no moro
shall my love trouble thee. Enough for me
| that once more my eyes behold thee, before
sleep seals thee from their sight Dost rec
member how when would have died by thy
dear hand, thou wouldst not slay, but didst
| bid me live to pluck the bitter fruit OF
| crime, and be accursed by visions Of the
| evil had wrought and memories Of thee
whom had rulned?"
cay, Charmion, well do remember"
"Surely hath the cup of punishment been
| filled. Obi couldst thou see into the record
| Of my heart and read thereon the suffering
that have borne-borne with a smiling
face-thy justice would be satisfied indeed!"
"And yet, if report be true, Charmion, thou
art the first of ell the Court, and therein the
most powerful and beloved. Doth not
Octavianus give it forth that he makes war
not on Antony, nor even on his mistress,
Cleopatra; but on Charmion and lras?" icy
''Yea, and think what it has been to me
thus, even Of my oath to thee, to be forced
to eat the bread and do the biddings of one
whom so bitterly ! hate!-one who has
robbed me of thee, and who, through the
workings Of my jealousy, brought me to
that which am, brough thee to shame, and
all Egypt to it's ruin Can jewels and riches
and the hattery Of princes and mobiles bring
happiness to such q one as !, who am more
wretched than the meanest sculion wench9
Oh, often have / wept till was blind; and
then, when the hour came, must arise and
tire me- and, with smile, go do the
bidding Of the Queen and that heavy
Antony. May the Gods grant me to SEQ
them dead-ay, the twain of them then
myself shall be content to diel Hard hath
been thy lot, Earmachis; but at least thou
hast been free, and manyis the time thatI
have envied thee the quiet OF thy haunted
cave"
81 do perceive, o Charmion, that thou art
mindful Of thy oaths; and it IS well, for
methinks the hour of vengeance is at hand"
II am mindful, and in all things have
worked for thee in secretion thee, and for
the utter ruin of Cleopatra and the Roman.
have famed his passion and her jealousy,
l have egged her on to wickedness and him
to folly, and of all have caused report to be
! brought to Caesar. Listen thus stands the
matter. Thou knowest how went the fight
at Actium. Thither with her feet went
Cleopatra, sorely against the will of Antony.
But, as thou sendest me word, I entreated
HIM for the Queen, vowing to him, with
| tears, that did he leave her, she would die
of grief; and he. poor slave, believed me-
And SO she went, and in the thick of the
fight for what cause know not, she made
signal to her squadron, and, putting about,
fed from the battle, sailing for Pelopon-
nesus. Ard now mark the end. When
Antony saw that she was gone, he, in his
madness, took a galley, and, DESERVING ali,
followed hard after her, leaving his feet to
be shattered and sunk, and his great army
in Greece Of twenty legions and twelve
thousand horses without a leader. And all
this would no man believe, that Antony,
the smitten of the gods, had fallen so deep
in shame. Therefore for awhile the army
tarrled, and but now tonight comes news
brought by Canidius, the General, that,
worn with doubt and being at length sure
that Antony had deserted them, the whole
Of that great force hath yielded to Caesar"
"And where, then, is Antony2"
| s'On little isle in the Great Harbor hath
he built him q habitation and named it
Timonium; because, forsooth, like Timon,
| lie cries out of the ingratitude of mankind
that hath forsaken him. End there he lies
smitten by q fever of the mind, and thither
must thou go at dawn, SO wills the Queen,
! to cure hun of his ills and draw him to her
! arms; for her he will not see, nor knows he
yet the full measure of his woe. But first
my bidding is to lead thee instantly to Cleo.
patra, who fain would ask thy counsel"
81 come," answered, rising. "Lead thou
| on.''
And 80 we passed the palace gates and
along the Alabaster Hall, and presently
once again stood before the door Of Cleo.
patra's chamber, and once again Charmion