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
surprised him even more than it did me。 He had chanced upon these
verses from 〃A Dream of Fair Women〃：
〃'We drank the Libyan Sun to sleep； and lit
Lamps which outburn'd Canopus。 0 my life
In Egypt！ 0 the dalliance and the wit；
The flattery and the strife。
〃'And the wild kiss when fresh from war's alarms；
My Hercules； my Roman Antony；
My mailed Bacchus leapt into my arms；
Contented there to die！
〃'And there he died！ And when I heard my name
Sigh'd forth with life； I would not brook my fear
Of the other！ With a worm I balked his fame。
What else was left？ look here！'
〃With that she tore her robe apart and half
The polished argent of her breast to sight
Laid bare。 Thereto she pointed with a laugh；
Showing the aspic's bite。〃
〃There is no doubt about that；〃 I said； as he laid the book upon the
table。 〃I want to try this thing once more。 Here is Pascal； if you
can find any reference to the 'Serpent of the Nile' in that； you
needn't go any farther； I shall be satisfied；〃 and I passed the book
to him。 He turned the pages over in silence for half a minute； or
so； and then said： 〃I guess this counts as a failure； … no； though；
by Jove！ Look here！〃 His face was of almost deathly pallor； and
his finger trembled upon the passage it indicated as he held the
book toward me。 I glanced with some anxiety from his face to the
book； and read； as nearly as I now can remember： 〃If Cleopatra's
nose had been shorter； the entire face of the world would have been
changed。〃
It was some minutes before Maitland fully regained his composure；
and during that time neither of us spoke。 〃Well； Doc；〃 he said at
length； and his manner was decidedly grave； even for him：
〃What do you make of it？〃 I didn't know what to make of it； and
I admitted my ignorance with a frankness at which； considering my
profession； I have often since had occasion to marvel。 I told
him that I could scarcely account for it on the ground of mere
coincidence； and I called his attention to that part of 〃The Mystery
of Marie Roget；〃 where Poe figures out the mathematical likelihood
of a certain combination of peculiarities of clothing being found
to obtain in the case of two young women who were unknown to each
other。 If the finding of a single reference to Cleopatra had been
a thing of so infrequent occurrence as to at once challenge
Maitland's attention； what was to be said when； all of a sudden； her
name； or some reference to her； seemed to stare at him from every
page he read？
〃'There is something in this more than natural；
If philosophy could find it out；'〃=20
murmured Maitland； more to himself than to me。 〃Come； what do you
say？〃 and he turned abruptly to me with one of those searching looks
so peculiar to him in moments of excitement。 〃I see；〃 I replied；
〃that you are determined I shall give my opinion now and here；
without a moment's reflection。 Very well； you have just quoted
'Hamlet'； I will do likewise：
〃'There are more things in Heaven and Earth； Horatio；
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy I'
〃You seem in some strange way to be dominated by the shade of
Cleopatra。 Now； if I believed in metempsychosis； I should think you
were Mark Antony brought down to date。 There； with that present
sober air of yours； you'd pass anywhere for such an anachronism。
But to be serious； and to give you advice which is positively bilious
with gravity； I should say； investigate this thing fully； make a
study of this ancient charmer。 By the way； why not begin by going
to see Davenport in Sardou's 'Cleopatra'？ You have never seen her
in it； have you？〃
In this way。 I succeeded in getting him out of his depressed state。
We got into an argument concerning the merits of Miss Davenport's
work。 I know of nothing Maitland would sooner do than argue； and；
if attacked on a subject upon which he feels strongly； he is； for
the time being； totally oblivious of everything else。 For this
reason I trapped him into this argument。 I abominate what is now
known as 〃realism〃 just as much as he does； but you don't have much
of an argument without some apparent difference of opinion； so； for
the nonce； I became a realist of whom Zola himself would have been
proud。 〃Why； man；〃 I said； 〃realism is truth。 You certainly can't
have any quarrel with that。〃 I knew this would have the effect of
a red rag flaunted in the face of a bull。
〃Truth！ Bah！〃 he exclaimed excitedly。 〃I have no patience with
such aesthetic hod…carriers！ Truth； indeed！ Is there no other truth
in art but that coarse verisimilitude； that vulgar trickery； which
appeals to the eyes and the ears of the rabble？ Are there not
psychological truths of immensely greater importance？ What sane man
imagines for a moment that the pleasure he derives from seeing that
greatest of all tragedians； Edwin Booth； in one of Shakespeare's
matchless tragedies； is dependent upon his believing that this or
that character is actually killed？ Why； even the day of t