at once.
She killed it by pressing her fingers together. Then shook out her hand and watched it drop to the floor of the cage.
Turning, she looked at Ramses. Ah, such a sad face, so full of disapproval! Poor dearest!
"I can't die now. Isn't that true?"
No answer. Ah, but she knew. She'd been pondering ever since ... ever since all of this began. When she looked at the others, it had been the realization hovering in the back of her mind. He'd raised her from the dead. Now she couldn't die.
"Oh, how disconsolate you look. Aren't you pleased with your magic?" She came towards him, laughing under her breath." Am I not beautiful? And now you weep. What a fool you are! It was all your design, wasn't it? You came into my tomb; you brought me back; and now you weep as if I were dead. Well, you turned away from me when I was dying! You let them pull the shroud over my face!"
He sighed." No. I never did that. You don't remember what happened."
"Why did you do it? Why did you bring me back? What were we to each other, you and I?" How did all these little shimmering bits and pieces of memory fit together? When would they make one cloth?
She drew closer, peering at his skin, touching it again. Such resilient skin.
"Don't you know the answer?" he asked." Isn't it deep inside you?"
"I know only that you were there when I died. You were someone I loved. I remember. You were there and I was frightened. The poison from the snake had paralyzed me, and I wanted to cry out to you, but I couldn't- I struggled. I said your name. You turned your back."
"No! No, that could not have happened! I stood there watching you."
The women weeping, she heard it again. Move away from that room full of death, the room where Antony had died, beloved Antony. She wouldn't let them take the couch away, though the blood from his wounds had soaked into the silk.
"You let me die."
He look her by the arms again, roughly. Was that always his way?
"I wanted you to be with me, the way you are now."
"As I am now. And how is that? What is this world? Is it the Hades of myth? Will we come upon the others ... upon ..." But it had been right there a moment ago." Upon Antony!" she said." Where is Antony!" Oh ... but she knew.
She turned away. Antony was dead and gone; laid in the tomb. And he would not give the magic to Antony; it was all there again.
He came up behind her, and embraced her.
"When you called out to me," he said," what was it you wanted? Tell me now."
"To make you suffer!" She laughed. She could see him in the mirrored door of the cabinet, and she laughed at the pain in his face." I don't know why I called out to you! I don't even know who you are!" She slapped him suddenly. No effect. Like slapping marble.
She wandered away from him into the dressing room. She wanted something beautiful. What was the finest dress that miserable woman had possessed? Ah, this one of rose-colored silk with fragile cutwork trimming. She took it up, slipped her arms into it and quickly snapped the little hooks up the front. It flattered her breasts beautifully; and the skirt was full and beautiful, though she no longer had to hide her feet.
Once again she put on the sandals.
"Where are you going?"
"Out in the city. This is the city of Cairo. Why should I not go out into it?"
"I must talk to you. ..."
"Must you?" She gathered up her canvas bag. In the corner of her eye she could see a great sliver of broken glass on the marble dressing table top. A shard from the bottle she'd smashed.
She moved lazily towards it. Her hand played with the pearls there. She should take these too. Of course he followed her.
"Cleopatra, look at me," he said.
She turned abruptly and kissed him. Could he be so easily fooled? Yes, his lips told her that, oh, so delicious. How splendidly he suffered! Groping blindly at her side, she found that shard and, lifting it, gashed his throat.
She stepped backwards. He stood staring at her. The blood poured down his white robe. But he wasn't afraid. He did not move to stop the bleeding.