And Eden revives in the first kiss of love.
When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past—
For years fleet away with the wings of the dove—
The dearest remembrance will still be the last,
Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love.
[p199]
THE DEATH OF CLEOPATRA.
See [Frontispiece].
The Princess of antiquity, most renowned for her personal charms, was in her unrivalled beauty, her mental perfections, her weaknesses, and the unhappy conclusion of an amorous existence the counterpart of the most beautiful queen of later times, the unfortunate Mary of Scotland.
Cleopatra was the daughter of Ptolemy Auletes, king of Egypt. She was early given to wife to her own brother, Ptolemy Dionysius, and ascended the throne conjointly with him, on the death of their father. It was doubtless the policy of the kingdom thus to preserve all the royal honors in one family—the daughter being the queen, as well as the son king of the country. But her ambitious and intriguing spirit, restrained by no ties of reciprocal love to her husband, who was also her brother, sought for means to burst a union at once unnatural and galling: and the opportunity at length arrived. Julius Cæsar, the conqueror of the world, having pursued the defeated Pompey into Egypt, there beheld Cleopatra in the zenith of her beauty; and he before whose power the whole world was kneeling, prostrated himself before a pretty woman. The following is the account of her first introduction to Cæsar, as given by the historian. It shows that she had no maidenly scruples as to the mode of attaining her ends.
Her intrigues to become sole monarch, had made her husband-brother banish her from the capital. [p200] Hearing of the arrival of Cæsar, she got into a small boat, with only one male friend, and in the dusk of the evening made for the palace where Cæsar as well as her husband lodged. As she saw it difficult to enter it undiscovered by her husband’s friends, she rolled herself up in a carpet. Her companion tied her up at full length like a bale of goods, and carried her in at the gates to Cæsar’s apartments. This stratagem of hers, which was a strong proof of her wit and ingenuity, is said to have first opened her way to Cæsar’s heart, and her conquest advanced rapidly by the charms of her speech and person. The genius of Shakspeare has well depicted the power of her beauty at this time. He makes her to say, at a later period of life, when chagrined at the expected desertion of another lover,—