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We might not serve。 She was a woman；
And as a woman loved！ What though the fierce
Simoom blew ever hot within the sail
Of her desire？ What if it shifted with
Direction of her breath？ Or if the rudder of
Her will did lean as many ways as trampled straws；
And own as little worth？ She was a woman still；
And queen。 They do best understand themselves
Who trust themselves the least； as they are wisest
Who； for their safety； thank more the open sea
Than pilot will。 Oh； Egypt's self…born Isis！
Ought we to fasten in thy memory the fangs
Of unalloyed distrust？ We know how little
Better is History's page than leaf whereat the ink
Is thrown。 Nor yet should we forget how much
The nearer thou than we didst come to
The rough…hewn corner…stone of Time。 We know
Thy practised love enfolded Antony；
And that around the heart of Hercules'
Descendant； threading through and through；
Like the red rivers of its life； in tangled mesh
No circumstance could e'er unravel； thou
Didst coil； … the dreamy； dazzling 〃Serpent of
The Nile！〃 Thy sins stick jagged out
From history's page； and bleeding tear
Fair Judgment from thy merits。 We perchance
Do wrong thee； Isis； for that coward； History；
Who binds in death his object's jaw and then
Besmuts her name； hath crossed his focus in
Another age； and paled his spreading figment from
Our sight。 Thou art so far back toward
The primal autocrat whose wish； hyena…like；
Was his religion； that； appearing as thou dost
On an horizon new flushed in the first
Uncertain ray of Altruism； thou seem'st
More ghost than human。 Yet thou lovest； loving ghost；
And thy fierce parent flame thyself snuffed out
Scarce later than the dark'ning of the fire
Thou gav'st to be eternal vestal of
Thine Antony's spirit。 Thou didst love and die
Of love； let； therefore； no light tongue； brazen
In censure； say that nothing in thy life
Became thee like the leaving it。 The cloth
From which humanity is cut is woven of
The warp and woof of circumstance； and all
Are much alike。 We spring from out the mantle； Earth；
And hide at last beneath it； in the interim
Our acts are less of us than it。 We are
No judge； then； of thy sins； thou ending link
Of Ptolemy's chain。 Forsooth； we are too much
O'erfilled with wondering how like to thee
We all had been； inclipt and dressed in thine
Own age and circumstance。
The exercises of the evening concluded with the reading of the
familiar poem； beginning：
〃I am dying； Egypt； dying；
Ebbs the crimson life…tide fast。〃
It was about noon the next day when Maitland called upon me。 〃See
here； Doc；〃 he began at once； 〃do you believe in coincidences？〃 I
informed him that his question was not altogether easy to understand。
〃Wait a moment；〃 he said； 〃while I explain。 For at least two years
prior to my recent return from California the name 'Cleopatra' has
not entered my mind。 You were the first to mention it to me； and
from you I learned that Miss Darrow was to have charge of the 'Antony
and Cleopatra' night。 That is all natural enough。 But why should I；
on every morning since you first mentioned the subject to me； awake
with Antony's words upon my lips？ Why should every book or paper I
pick up contain some reference to Cleopatra？ Why； man； if I were
superstitious； it would seem positively spookish。 I am getting to
believe that I shall be confronted either by Cleopatra's name； or
some allusion to her； every time I pick up a book。 It's getting to
be decidedly interesting。〃
〃I have had；〃 I replied； 〃similar； though less remarkable；
experiences。 It is quite a common occurrence to learn of a thing；
say； this morning for the first time in one's life； and then to
find； in the course of the day's reading； three or four independent
references to the same thing。 Suppose we step into the library； and
pick out a few books haphazard； just to see if we chance upon any
reference to Cleopatra。〃
To this Maitland agreed； and； entering the library； I pushed the
Morning Herald across the table to him； saying： 〃One thing's as good
as another； try that。〃 He started a little； but did not touch the
paper。 〃You will have to find something harder than that；〃 he said；
pointing to the outspread paper。
I followed the direction of his finger； and read：
〃Boston Theatre。 Special engagement of Miss Fanny Davenport。
For one week。 Beginning Monday； the 12th of December； Sardou's
'Cleopatra。'〃
I was indeed surprised； but I said nothing。 The next thing I handed
him was a copy of Godey's Magazine； several years old。 He opened it
carelessly； and in a moment read the following line： 〃I am dying；
sweetheart； dying。〃 〃Doesn't that sound familiar？ It reminds me at
once of the poetic alarm clock that wakens me every morning； … 'I am
dying； Egypt； dying。' There is no doubt that Higginson's poem
suggested this one。 Here is the whole of the thing as it is printed
here；〃 he said； and read the following：
LOVE'S TWILIGHT
I am dreaming； loved one； dreaming
Of the sweet and beauteous past
When the world was as its seeming；
Ere the fatal shaft was cast。
I am sobbing； sad…eyed； sobbing；
At the darkly sullen west；
Of the smile of ignorance robbing
The pale face against the breast。
I am smiling； tear…stained； smiling；
As the sun glints on the crest
Of the troubled wave； beguiling
Shipwrecked Hope to its long rest。
I am parting； broken； parting；
From a soul that I hold dear；
And the music of whose beauty
Fades a dead strain on my ear。
I am dying； sweetheart； dying；
Drips life's gold through palsied hands； …=20
See； the dead'ning Sun is sighing
His last note in red'ning bands。
So I'm sighing； sinking； sighing；
Flows life's river to the sea。
Death my throbbing heart is tying
With the strings that ache for thee。
〃Yes；〃 I said； when he had finished。 〃I shall have to admit that
immediately suggests Higginson's poem and Cleopatra's name。 But
here； try this；〃 and I threw an old copy of the Atlantic Monthly
upon the table。 Maitland opened it and laughed。 〃This may be mere
chance； Doc；〃 he said； 〃but it is remarkable； none the less。 See
here！〃 He held the magazine toward me； and I read： 〃Cleopatra's
Needle。 The Historic Significance of Central Park's New Monument。
Some of the Difficulties that Attended its Transportation and
Erection。 By James Theodore Wright； Ph。 D。〃 I was dumfounded。
Things were indeed getting interesting。
〃Magazines and newspapers；〃 I said； 〃seem to be altogether too much
in your line。 We'll try a book this time。 Here；〃 and I pulled the
first one that came to hand； 〃is a copy of Tennyson's Poems I fancy
it will trouble you to find your reference in that。〃 Maitland took
it in silence； and； opening it at random； began to read。 The result
surp