I did not know that because of fear
and the weight of policy only she showed scant mercy to those whom I
had betrayed, or that because of cunning and not for the holy sake of
woman's love--though, in truth, she liked me well enough--she chose
rather to bind me to her by the fibres of my heart. And yet I will say
this in her behalf: even when the danger-cloud had melted from her
sky she kept faith, nor, save Paulus and one other, did any suffer
the utmost penalty of death for their part in the great plot against
Cleopatra's crown and dynasty. But they suffered many other things.
And so she went, leaving the vision of her glory to strive with the
shame and sorrow in my heart. Oh, bitter were the hours that could not
now be made light with prayer. For the link between me and the Divine
was snapped, and Isis communed with Her Priest no more. Bitter were the
hours and dark, but ever through their darkness shone the starry eyes of
Cleopatra, and came the echo of her whispered love. For not yet was the
cup of sorrow full. Hope still lingered in my heart, and I could almost
think that I had failed to some higher end, and that in the depths of
ruin I should find another and more flowery path to triumph.
For thus those who sin deceive themselves, striving to lay the burden
of their evil deeds upon the back of Fate, striving to believe their
wickedness may compass good, and to murder Conscience with the sharp
plea of Necessity.
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