Cleopatra · Book II · Chapter 2 5 (2/2)

I was overcome; thinking of the morrow night, shame and sorrow smote me. I, her friend!⁠—I, whose assassin dagger lay against my breast! I bent my head, and a sob or a groan, I know not which, burst from the agony of my heart.

But Cleopatra, thinking only that I was moved beyond myself by the surprise of her graciousness, smiled sweetly, and said:

“It grows late; tomorrow night when thou bringest the auguries we will speak again, O my friend Harmachis, and thou shalt answer me.” And she gave me her hand to kiss. Scarce knowing what I did, I kissed it, and in another moment she was gone.

But I stood in the chamber, gazing after her like one asleep.