Cleopatra

CLEOPATRA'S PRIVATE DIARY--Henry Thomas--Stratford ($2). This imaginary Cleopatra, who goes to Rome with Caesar, certain that "the world needs its Cleopatras as well as it needs its vestal virgins," is made out to be one of the frankest hussies ever to expose her private doings to print.

Rome she finds "a dirty little anthill of Italian filth." Caesar, her lover, "talks like a very king of kings, but acts like a delicatessen-storekeeper." He has a fit of epilepsy: "Fancy sharing your bed with a man who is in the habit of turning into a corpse." She meets Calpurnia, Caesar's wife. Calpurnia thanks her "for providing me with such an excellent excuse to exercise freely whatever poor talents I possess." The nature of these talents is reflected in Cleopatra's diary: "Received this morning a jar of preserved roses from Calpurnia. Fed it to my little pet rabbit. . . . Buried my little pet rabbit."

A prank: "Antony and I had a world of fun. We would rush up to a house (in the darkness), knock loudly at the door, and then hide ourselves in the shadows. When the door was opened, we let out a long, dismal, wolflike howl, and then ran away giggling in the dark."

Roman punishments: "The Romans have a unique way of punishing some of their criminals. They tie them down on their back in the sun and then cover the victim's face with a thick layer of molasses for the flies to feast upon. . . . They whip [matricides] in public, and then they sew them up in a bull's hide together with a dog, a cock and a monkey, and throw them into the Tiber."

Author "Henry Thomas" is a learned publisher disporting himself with the anonymity so necessary for successful indiscretions in his native Boston. His humor runs sooner to dubious epigrams than to clever psychology and his wit limps much of the way. But what he does not know about ancient Rome he invents neatly. Readers with a weakness for scandal, however frail, will applaud his effort to do with Cleopatra what Professor Erskine did for Helen of Troy.