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Poem	Partly to verify an era, partly also to pass the time, last night I picked up a collection of Ptolemaic epigrams to read. The plentiful praises and flatteries for everyone are similar. They are all brilliant, glorious, mighty, beneficent; each of their enterprises the wisest. If you talk of the women of that breed, they too, all the Berenices and Cleopatras are admirable. When I had managed to verify the era I would have put the book away, had not a small and insignificant mention of king Caesarion immediately attracted my attention..... Behold, you came with your vague charm. In history only a few lines are found about you, and so I molded you more freely in my mind. I molded you handsome and sentimental. My art gives to your face a dreamy compassionate beauty. And so fully did I envision you, that late last night, as my lamp was going out -- I let go out on purpose -- I fancied that you entered my room, it seemed that you stood before me; as you might have been in vanquished Alexandria, pale and tired, idealistic in your sorrow, still hoping that they would pity you, the wicked -- who whispered "Too many Caesars."
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