And woe is me! In that kiss, more deadly and more strong than the embrace of Death, were forgotten Isis, my heavenly Hope, Oaths, Honour, Country, Friends, all things--all things save that Cleopatra clasped me in her arms, and called me Love and Lord. “Now pledge me,” she sighed; “pledge me one cup of wine in token of thy love.” I took the draught, and I drank deep; then too late I knew that it was drugged. I fell upon the couch, and, though my senses still were with me, I could neither speak nor rise. But Cleopatra, bending over me, drew the dagger from my robe. “_I’ve won!_” she cried, shaking back her long hair. “I’ve won, and for the stake of Egypt, why, ‘twas a game worth playing! With this dagger, then, thou wouldst have slain me, O my royal Rival, whose myrmidons even now are gathered at my palace gate? Art still awake? Now what hinders me that I should not plunge it to _thy_ heart?” I heard and feebly pointed to my breast, for I was fain to die. She drew herself to the full of her imperial height, and the great knife glittered in her hand. Down it came till its edge pricked my flesh. “Nay,” she cried again, and cast it from her, “too well I like thee. It were pity to slay such a man! I give thee thy life. Live on, lost Pharaoh! Live on, poor fallen Prince, blasted by a woman’s wit! Live on, Harmachis--to adorn my triumph!” Then sight left me; and in my ears I only heard the song of the nightingale, the murmur of the sea, and the music of Cleopatra’s laugh of victory. And as I sank away, the sound of that low laugh still followed me into the land of sleep, and still it follows me through life to death. CHAPTER VIII OF THE AWAKING OF HARMACHIS; OF THE SIGHT OF DEATH; OF THE COMING OF CLEOPATRA; AND OF HER COMFORTABLE WORDS Once more I woke; it was to find myself in my own chamber. I started up. Surely, I, too, had dreamed a dream? It could be nothing but a dream? It could not be that I woke to know myself a _traitor!_ That the opportunity had gone for ever! That I had betrayed the cause, and that last night those brave men, headed by my uncle, had waited in vain at the outer gate! That Egypt from Abu to Athu was even now waiting--waiting in vain! Nay, whatever else might be, this could not be! Oh, it was an awful dream which I had dreamed! a second such would slay a man. It were better to die than face such another vision sent from hell. But, though the thing was naught but a hateful phantasy of a mind o’er-strained, where was I now? Where was I now? I should be in the Alabaster Hall, waiting till Charmion came forth. Where was I? and O ye Gods! what was that dreadful thing, whose shape was the shape of a man?--that thing draped in bloodstained white and huddled in a hideous heap at the foot of the couch on which I seemed to lie?