Cleopatra

H >> H. Rider Haggard >> Cleopatra


The aged woman drew up her bent form and cried: "Now let me go in peace,
for I have seen my desire upon thy foes and the foes of Khem. _La!
la!_--not in vain have I lived on beyond the years of man! I have seen
my desire upon thy enemies---I have gathered the dews of Death, and thy
foe hath drunk thereof! Fallen is the brow of Pride! the Shame of Khem
is level with the dust! Ah, would that I might have seen that wanton
die!"

"Cease, woman! cease! The Dead are gathered to the Dead! Osiris holds
them fast, and everlasting silence seals their lips! Pursue not the
fallen great with insults! Up!--let us fly to Abouthis, that all may be
accomplished!"

"Fly thou, Harmachis!--Harmachis, fly--but I fly not! To this end only
I have lingered on the earth. Now I untie the knot of life and let my
spirit free! Fare thee well, Prince, the pilgrimage is done! Harmachis,
from a babe have I loved thee, and love thee yet!--but no more in this
world may I share thy griefs--I am spent. Osiris, take thou my Spirit!"
and her trembling knees gave way and she sank to the ground.

I ran to her side and looked upon her. She was already dead, and I was
alone upon the earth without a friend to comfort me!

Then I turned and went, no man hindering me, for all was confusion in
the city, and departed from Alexandria in a vessel I had made ready.
On the eighth day, I landed, and, in the carrying out of my purpose,
travelled on foot across the fields to the Holy Shrine of Abouthis. And
here, as I knew, the worship of the Gods had been lately set up again
in the Temple of the Divine Sethi: for Charmion had caused Cleopatra to
repent of her decree of vengeance and to restore the lands that she had
seized, though the treasure she restored not. And the temple having been
purified, now, at the season of the Feast of Isis, all the High Priests
of the ancient Temples of Egypt were gathered together to celebrate the
coming home of the Gods into their holy place.

I gained the city. It was on the seventh day of the Feast of Isis. Even
as I came the long array wended through the well-remembered streets.
I joined in the multitude that followed, and with my voice swelled the
chorus of the solemn chant as we passed through the pylons into the
imperishable halls. How well known were the holy words:

"Softly we tread, our measured footsteps falling
Within the Sanctuary Sevenfold;
Soft on the Dead that liveth are we calling:
'Return, Osiris, from thy Kingdom cold!
Return to them that worship thee of old!'"

And then, when the sacred music ceased, as aforetime on the setting of
the majesty of Ra, the High Priest raised the statue of the living God
and held it on high before the multitude.

With a joyful shout of

"Osiris! our hope, Osiris! Osiris!"

the people tore the black wrappings from their dress, showing the white
robes beneath, and, as one man, bowed before the God.

Then they went to feast each at his home; but I stayed in the court of
the temple.

Presently a priest of the temple drew near, and asked me of my business.
And I answered him that I came from Alexandria, and would be led before
the council of the High Priests, for I knew that the Holy Priests were
gathered together debating the tidings from Alexandria.

Thereon the man left, and the High Priests, hearing that I was from
Alexandria, ordered that I should be led into their presence in the Hall
of Columns--and so I was led in. It was already dark, and between the
great pillars lights were set, as on that night when I was crowned
Pharaoh of the Upper and the Lower Land. There, too, was the long
line of Dignitaries seated in their carven chairs, and taking counsel
together. All was the same; the same cold images of Kings and Gods gazed
with the same empty eyes from the everlasting walls. Ay, more; among
those gathered there were five of the very men who, as leaders of the
great plot, had sat here to see me crowned, being the only conspirators
who had escaped the vengeance of Cleopatra and the clutching hand of
Time.

I took my stand on the spot where once I had been crowned and made me
ready for the last act of shame with such bitterness of heart as cannot
be written.

"Why, it is the physician Olympus," said one. "He who lived a hermit in
the Tombs of Tape, and who but lately was of the household of Cleopatra.
Is it, then, true that the Queen is dead by her own hand, Physician?"

"Yea, holy Sirs, I am that physician; also Cleopatra is dead by _my_
hand."

"By thy hand? Why, how comes this?--though well is she dead, forsooth,
the wicked wanton!"

"Your pardon, Sirs, and I will tell you all, for I am come hither
to that end. Perchance among you there may be some--methinks I see
some--who, nigh eleven years ago, were gathered in this hall to secretly
crown one Harmachis, Pharaoh of Khem?"

"It is true!" they said; "but how knowest thou these things, thou
Olympus?"

"Of the rest of those seven-and-thirty nobles," I went on, making no
answer, "are two-and-thirty missing. Some are dead, as Amenemhat is
dead; some are slain, as Sepa is slain; and some, perchance, yet labour
as slaves within the mines, or live afar, fearing vengeance."

"It is so," they said: "alas! it is so. Harmachis the accursed betrayed
the plot, and sold himself to the wanton Cleopatra!"

"It is so," I went on, lifting up my head. "Harmachis betrayed the plot
and sold himself to Cleopatra; and, holy Sirs--_I am that Harmachis!_"

The Priests and Dignitaries gazed astonished. Some rose and spoke; some
said naught.

"I am that Harmachis! I am that traitor, trebly steeped in crime!--a
traitor to my Gods, a traitor to my Country, a traitor to my Oath! I
come hither to say that I have done this. I have executed the Divine
vengeance on her who ruined me and gave Egypt to the Roman. And now
that, after years of toil and patient waiting, this is accomplished
by my wisdom and the help of the angry Gods, behold I come with all my
shame upon my head to declare the thing I am, and take the traitor's
guerdon!"

"Mindest thou of the doom of him who hath broke the oath that may not be
broke?" asked he who first had spoken, in heavy tones.

"I know it well," I answered; "I court that awful doom."

"Tell us more of this matter, thou who wast Harmachis."

So, in cold clear words, I laid bare all my shame, keeping back nothing.
And ever as I spoke I saw their faces grow more hard, and knew that for
me there was no mercy; nor did I ask it, nor, had I asked, could it have
been granted.

When, at last, I had done, they put me aside while they took counsel.
Then they drew me forth again, and the eldest among them, a man very old
and venerable, the Priest of the Temple of the Divine Hatshepu at Tape,
spoke, in icy accents:

"Thou Harmachis, we have considered this matter. Thou hast sinned the
threefold deadly sin. On thy head lies the burden of the woe of Khem,
this day enthralled of Rome. To Isis, the Mother Mystery, thou hast
offered the deadly insult, and thou hast broken thy holy oath. For all
of these sins there is, as well thou knowest, but one reward, and that
reward is thine. Naught can it weigh in the balance of our justice that
thou hast slain her who was thy cause of stumbling; naught that thou
comest to name thyself the vilest thing who ever stood within these
walls. On thee also must fall the curse of Menkau-ra, thou false priest!
thou forsworn patriot! thou Pharaoh shameful and discrowned! Here, where
we set the Double Crown upon thy head, we doom thee to the doom! Go to
thy dungeon and await the falling of its stroke! Go, remembering what
thou mightest have been and what thou art, and may those Gods who
through thy evil doing shall perchance ere long cease to be worshipped
within these holy temples, give to thee that mercy which we deny! Lead
him forth!"



So they took me and led me forth. With bowed head I went, looking not
up, and yet I felt their eyes burn upon my face.

Oh! surely of all my shames this is the heaviest!



CHAPTER X

OF THE LAST WRITING OF HARMACHIS, THE ROYAL EGYPTIAN

They led me to the prison chamber that is high in the pylon tower and
here I wait my doom. I know not when the sword of Fate shall fall. Week
grows to week, and month to month, and still it is delayed. Still it
quivers unseen above my head. I know that it will fall, but when I know
not. Perchance, I shall wake in some dead hour of midnight to hear the
stealthy steps of the slayers and be hurried forth. Perchance, they are
now at hand. Then will come the secret cell! the horror! the nameless
coffin! and at last it will be done! Oh, let it come! let it come
swiftly!


All is written; I have held back nothing--my sin is sinned--my vengeance
is finished. Now all things end in darkness and in ashes, and I prepare
to face the terrors that are to come in other worlds than this. I go,
but not without hope I go: for, though I see Her not, though no more She
answers to my prayers, still I am aware of the Holy Isis, who is with me
for evermore, and whom I shall yet again behold face to face. And then
at last in that far day I shall find forgiveness; then the burden of
my guilt will roll from me and innocency come back and wrap me round,
bringing me holy Peace.


Oh! dear land of Khem, as in a dream I see thee! I see Nation after
Nation set its standard on thy shores, and its yoke upon thy neck! I
see new Religions without end calling out their truths upon the banks of
Sihor, and summoning thy people to their worship! I see thy temples--thy
holy temples--crumbling in the dust: a wonder to the sight of men
unborn, who shall peer into thy tombs and desecrate the great ones
of thy glory! I see thy mysteries a mockery to the unlearned, and thy
wisdom wasted like waters on the desert sands! I see the Roman Eagles
stoop and perish, their beaks yet red with the blood of men, and the
long lights dancing down the barbarian spears that follow in their
wake! And then, at last, I see Thee once more great, once more free, and
having once more a knowledge of thy Gods--ay, thy Gods with a changed
countenance, and called by other names, but still thy Gods!


The sun sinks over Abouthis. The red rays of Ra flame on temple roofs,
upon green fields, and the wide waters of father Sihor. So as a child
I watched him sink; just so his last kiss touched the further pylon's
frowning brow; just that same shadow lay upon the tombs. All is
unchanged! I--I only am changed--so changed, and yet the same!


Oh, Cleopatra! Cleopatra! thou Destroyer! if I might but tear thy vision
from my heart! Of all my griefs, this is the heaviest grief--still must
I love thee! Still must I hug this serpent to my heart! Still in my
ears must ring that low laugh of triumph--the murmur of the falling
fountain--the song of the nightinga----

[Here the writing on the third roll of papyrus abruptly ends. It would
almost seem that the writer was at this moment broken in upon by those
who came to lead him to his doom.]