"Why， it is the physician Olympus，" said one. "He who lived a hermit in the Tombs of Tápé， and who but lately was of the household of Cleopatra. Is it， then， true that the Queen is dead by her own hand， Physician？"
"Yea， holy Sirs， I am that physician； also Cleopatra is dead by /my/ hand."
"By thy hand？ Why， how comes this？--though well is she dead， forsooth， the wicked wanton！"
"Your pardon， Sirs， and I will tell you all， for I am come hither to that end. Perchance among you there may be some--methinks I see some--who， nigh eleven years ago， were gathered in this hall to secretly crown one Harmachis， Pharaoh of Khem？"
"It is true！" they said； "but how knowest thou these things， thou Olympus？"
"Of the rest of those seven-and-thirty nobles，" I went on， making no answer， "are two-and-thirty missing. Some are dead， as Amenemhat is dead； some are slain， as Sepa is slain； and some， perchance， yet labour as slaves within the mines， or live afar， fearing vengeance."
"It is so，" they said： "alas！ it is so. Harmachis the accursed betrayed the plot， and sold himself to the wanton Cleopatra！"
"It is so，" I went on， lifting up my head. "Harmachis betrayed the plot and sold himself to Cleopatra； and， holy Sirs--/I am that Harmachis！/"
The Priests and Dignitaries gazed astonished. Some rose and spoke； some said naught.
"I am that Harmachis！ I am that traitor， trebly steeped in crime！--a traitor to my Gods， a traitor to my Country， a traitor to my Oath！ I come hither to say that I have done this. I have executed the Divine vengeance on her who ruined me and gave Egypt to the Roman. And now that， after years of toil and patient waiting， this is accomplished by my wisdom and the help of the angry Gods， behold I come with all my shame upon my head to declare the thing I am， and take the traitor's guerdon！"
"Mindest thou of the doom of him who hath broke the oath that may not be broke？" asked he who first had spoken， in heavy tones.
"I know it well，" I answered； "I court that awful doom."
"Tell us more of this matter， thou who wast Harmachis."
So， in cold clear words， I laid bare all my shame， keeping back nothing. And ever as I spoke I saw their faces grow more hard， and knew that for me there was no mercy； nor did I ask it， nor， had I asked， could it have been granted.
When， at last， I had done， they put me aside while they took counsel.
Then they drew me forth again， and the eldest among them， a man very old and venerable， the Priest of the Temple of the Divine Hatshepu at Tápé， spoke， in icy accents：
"Thou Harmachis， we have considered this matter. Thou hast sinned the threefold deadly sin. On thy head lies the burden of the woe of Khem， this day enthralled of Rome. To Isis， the Mother Mystery， thou hast offered the deadly insult， and thou hast broken thy holy oath. For all of these sins there is， as well thou knowest， but one reward， and that reward is thine. Naught can it weigh in the balance of our justice that thou hast slain her who was thy cause of stumbling； naught that thou comest to name thyself the vilest thing who ever stood within these walls. On thee also must fall the curse of Menkau-ra， thou false priest！ thou forsworn patriot！ thou Pharaoh shameful and discrowned！
Here， where we set the Double Crown upon thy head， we doom thee to the doom！ Go to thy dungeon and await the falling of its stroke！ Go， remembering what thou mightest have been and what thou art， and may those Gods who through thy evil doing shall perchance ere long cease to be worshipped within these holy temples， give to thee that mercy which we deny！ Lead him forth！"
So they took me and led me forth. With bowed head I went， looking not up， and yet I felt their eyes burn upon my face.
Oh！ surely of all my shames this is the heaviest！
