By H. Rider Haggard, Norman Nodel

Buy of this booklet contains unfastened trial entry to the place you could learn greater than one million books at no cost. this can be an OCR version with typos. Excerpt from publication: bankruptcy Xv. Of The dinner party Of Cleopatra; Of The Melting Of The Pearl; Of The asserting Of Harmachis; And Of Cleopatra's vow of affection. at the 3rd evening the ceremonial dinner used to be extra ready within the corridor of the nice residence that were put aside to using Cleopatra, and in this evening its splendour was once higher even than at the nights ahead of. For the twelve couches that have been set in regards to the desk have been embossed with gold and people of Cleopatra and Antony have been of gold set with jewels. The dishes additionally have been all of gold set with jewels, the partitions have been hung with pink cloths sewn with gold, and at the ground, coated with a internet of gold, clean roses have been strewn ankle- deep, that because the slaves trod them despatched up their fragrance. once more i used to be bidden to face, with Charmion and Iras and Merira, at the back of the sofa of Cleopatra, and, like a slave, from timeto time name out the hours as they flew. And there being no support, I went chilly at center; yet this I swore—it may be for the final time, because i couldn't endure that disgrace. For even though i wouldn't but think what Charmion informed me—that Cleopatra used to be approximately to turn into the affection of Antony —yet i may not more undergo this ignominy and torture. For from Cleopatra now I had no phrases shop akin to a Queen speaks to her slave, and methinks it gave her darkish middle excitement to torment me. therefore it got here to cross that I, the Pharaoh, topped of Khem, stood between eunuchs and waiting-women at the back of the sofa of Egypt's Queen whereas the dinner party went merrily and the wine-cup handed. And ever Antony sat, his eyes mounted upon the face of Cleopatra, who every now and then enable her deep look lose itself in his, after which for a short while their speak died away. For he informed her stories of conflict and of deeds that he had done—ay, and love-jests comparable to are usually not meet for the ears of wom...

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I could even go so far as to say that I smelled its scent in the bars and parks in February and March of that year; I sensed its preternatural quiet in the bookshops and the food stalls, while I stood eating a pork taco in the Calle San Ildefonso, staring at the church of Saint Catherine of Siena and the Mexican dusk swirling deliriously, before the year 1968 was what it would become. Ah, it makes me laugh to think about it now. It makes me want to cry! Am I crying? I saw it all and yet I didn't see a thing.

I became a fixture in their group. I spent my days at the faculty, busy as a bee or, to be more precise, a cicada, coming and going in and out of the little offices, keeping up with all the gossip, all the affairs and divorces, keeping up with all the tragedies. Like the tragedy of Professor Miguel López Azcárate, whose wife left him, and who couldn't bear the pain; I knew all about it, the secretaries told me. One day in a corridor I joined a group discussing some aspect of Ovid's poetry; the poet Bonifaz Nuño was there, I think, Monterroso too, perhaps, and two or three young poets.

And then Paolo stopped talking with Arturito and said that the visa for Cuba had arrived that morning. And that was it. The noises stopped. The pensive silence was broken. We forgot about Latin American theater, even Arturito, who wasn't generally quick to let a subject go, although the theater he preferred was not Latin American at all but that of Beckett and Jean Genet. And we started talking about Cuba and the interview that Paolo was going to have with Fidel Castro, and that was that. We said goodbye on Reforma.

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