“What was it that thou didst say to me just now, Charmion—­that as I had sown so I must reap?  It is not lawful that thou shouldst slay thyself; it is not lawful that I, thine equal in sin, should slay thee because through thee I sinned.  As thou hast sown, Charmion, so must thou also reap.  Base woman! whose cruel jealousy has brought all these woes on me and Egypt, live—­live on, and from year to year pluck the bitter fruit of crime!  Haunted be thy sleep by visions of thy outraged Gods, whose vengeance awaits thee and me in their dim Amenti!  Haunted be thy days by memories of that man whom thy fierce love brought to shame and ruin, and by the sight of Khem a prey to the insatiate Cleopatra and a slave to Roman Antony.”

“Oh, speak not thus, Harmachis!  Thy words are sharper than any sword; and more surely, if more slowly, shall they slay!  Listen, Harmachis,” and she grasped my robe:  “when thou wast great, and all power lay within thy grasp, thou didst reject me.  Wilt reject me now that Cleopatra hast cast thee from her—­now that thou art poor and shamed and with no pillow to thy head?  Still am I fair, and still I worship thee.  Let me fly with thee, and make atonement for my lifelong love.  Or, if this be too great a thing to ask, let me be but as thy sister and thy servant—­thy very slave, so that I may still look upon thy face, and share thy trouble and minister to thee.  O Harmachis, let me but come and I will brave all things and endure all things, and nothing but Death himself shall stay me from thy side.  For I do believe that the love that sank me to so low a depth, dragging thee with me, can yet lift me to an equal height, and thee with me!”

“Wouldst tempt me to fresh sin, woman?  And dost thou think, Charmion, that in some hovel where I must hide, I could bear, day by day, to look upon thy fair face, and seeing, remember that those lips betrayed me?  Not thus easily shalt thou atone!  This I know even now:  many and heavy shall be thy lonely days of penance!  Perchance that hour of vengeance yet may come, and perchance thou shalt live to play thy part in it.  Thou must still abide in the Court of Cleopatra; and, while thou art there, if I yet live, I will from time to time find means to give thee tidings.  Perhaps a day may dawn when once more I shall need thy service.  Now, swear that, in this event, thou wilt not fail me a second time.”

“I swear, Harmachis!—­I swear!  May everlasting torments, too hideous to be dreamed—­more hideous, even, by far, than those that wring me now—­be my portion if I fail thee in one jot or tittle—­ay, though I wait a lifetime for thy word!”

“It is well; see that thou keep the oath—­not twice may we betray.  I go to work out my fate; abide thou to work out thine.  Perchance our divers threads will once more mingle ere the web be spun.  Charmion, who unasked didst love me—­and who, prompted by that gentle love of thine, didst betray and ruin me—­fare thee well!”