"Thou hast chosen," said Atene in a cold voice, "and I tell thee, Leo
Vincey, that the manner of thy choice makes me mourn my loss the more.
Take now thy--thy bride and let me hence."
But Ayesha still said no word and made no sign, till presently she sank
upon her bony knees and began to pray aloud. These were the words of
her prayer, as I heard them, though the exact Power to which it was
addressed is not very easy to determine, as I never discovered who or
what it was that she worshipped in her heart--"O Thou minister of the
almighty Will, thou sharp sword in the hand of Doom, thou inevitable Law
that art named Nature; thou who wast crowned as Isis of the Egyptians,
but art the goddess of all climes and ages; thou that leadest the man
to the maid, and layest the infant on his mother's breast, that bringest
our dust to its kindred dust, that givest life to death, and into the
dark of death breathest the light of life again; thou who causest the
abundant earth to bear, whose smile is Spring, whose laugh is the ripple
of the sea, whose noontide rest is drowsy Summer, and whose sleep is
Winter's night, hear thou the supplication of thy chosen child and
minister:
"Of old thou gavest me thine own strength with deathless days, and
beauty above every daughter of this Star. But I sinned against thee
sore, and for my sin I paid in endless centuries of solitude, in the
vileness that makes me loathsome to my lover's eyes, and for its diadem
of perfect power sets upon my brow this crown of naked mockery.
Pages:
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298