"By the vow which thou hast vowed to me, Nir-jalis--" she said slowly.. "and by thine oath sworn on the Symbolic Eye of Raphon".. here she touched the dreadful Jewel on her breast--"which bound thy life to my keeping, and thy death to my day of choice, I herewith bestow on thee the Chalice of Oblivion--the Silver Nectar of Peace! Sleep, and wake no more!--drink and die! The gateways of the Kingdom of Silence stand open to receive thee! ... thy service is finished! ...... fare-thee-well!" With the utterance of the last word, she gave him the glittering cup she held. He took it mechanically,--and for one instant glared about him on all sides, scanning the faces of the attentive guests as though in the faint hope of some pity, some attempt at rescue. But not a single look of compassion was bestowed upon him save by Theos, who, full of struggling amazement and horror, would have broken out into indignant remonstrance, had not an imperative glance from Sah-luma warned him that any interference on his part would only make matters worse. He therefore, sorely against his will, and only for Sah-luma's sake, kept silence, watching Nir-jalis meanwhile in a sort of horrible fascination. There was something truly awful in the radiant unquenchable laughter that lurked in Lysia's lovely eyes, . . something positively devilish in the grace of her manner, as with a negligent movement, she reseated herself in her crystal throne, and taking a knot of magnolia-flowers that lay beside her, idly toyed with their creamy buds, all the while keeping her basilisk gaze fixed immovably and relentlessly on her sentenced victim. He, grasping the lily-shaped chalice convulsively in his right hand, looked up despairingly to the polished dome of malachite, with its revolving globe of fire that shed a solemn blood-red glow upon his agonized young face, . . a smile was on his lips,--the dreadful smile of desperate, maddened misery. "Oh, ye malignant gods!" he cried fiercely--"ye immortal Furies that made Woman for Man's torture, ... Bear witness to my death! ... bear witness to my parting spirit's malediction! Cursed be they who love unwisely and too well! ... cursed be all the wiles of desire and the haunts of dear passion!--cursed he all fair faces whose fairness lures men to destruction! ... cursed be the warmth of caresses, the beating of heart against heart, the kisses that color midnight with fire! Cursed be Love from birth unto death!--may its sweetness be brief, and its bitterness endless!--its delight a snare, and its promise treachery! O ye mad lovers!--fools all!" ... and he turned his splendid wild eyes round on the hushed assemblage,--"Despise me and my words as ye will, throughout ages to come, the curse of the dead Nir-jalis shall cling!" He lifted the goblet to his lips, and just then his delirious glanced lighted on Sah-luma.