Mount thy throne, O Affianced of Hes, and
receive the worship of thy priests."
"Nay," he answered with a start as that word fell upon his ears. "Here
and now I say it once and for all. I am but a man who know nothing of
strange gods, their attributes and ceremonials. None shall bow the knee
to me and on earth, Ayesha, I bow mine to thee alone."
Now at this bold speech some of those who heard it looked astonished and
whispered to each other, while a voice called--"Beware, thou Chosen, of
the anger of the Mother!"
Again for a moment Ayesha looked afraid, then with a little laugh, swept
the thing aside, saying--"Surely with that I should be content. For me,
O Love, thy adoration for thee the betrothal song, no more."
So having no choice Leo mounted the throne, where notwithstanding his
splendid presence, enhanced as it was by those glittering robes, he
looked ill enough at ease, as indeed must any man of his faith and
race. Happily however, if some act of semi-idolatrous homage had been
proposed, Ayesha found a means to prevent its celebration, and soon all
such matters were forgotten both by the singers who sang, and us who
listened to the majestic chant that followed.
Of its words unfortunately we were able to understand but little, both
because of the volume of sound and of the secret, priestly language in
which it was given, though its general purport could not be mistaken.
Pages:
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319