"Ah!" she cried--"Art thou angel or demon that thou darest defy me?
Thou shouldst be either or both, to array thyself in opposition against
the High Priestess of Nagaya, whose relentless Will hath caused empires
to totter and thrones to fall! HIS life a glory to the world? ..." and
she pointed to Sah-luma's recumbent figure with a gesture of loathing
and contempt, . . "HIS? ... the life of a drunken voluptuary? ... a
sensual egotist? ... a poet who sees no genius save his own, and who
condemns all vice, save that which he himself indulges in! A laurelled
swine! ... a false god of art! ... and for him thou dost reject Me! ...
ah, thou fool!" and her splendid eyes shot forth resentful fire.. "Thou
rash, unthinking, headstrong fool! thou knowest not what thou hast
lost! Aye, guard thy friend as thou wilt,--thou dost guard him at thine
own peril! ... think not that he, . . or thou, ... shall escape my
vengeance! What!--dost thou play the heroic with me? ... thou who art
Man, and therefore NO hero? ... For men are cowards all, except when in
the heat of battle they follow the pursuit of their own brief glory!
... poltroons and knaves in spirit, incapable of resisting their own
passions! ... and wilt THOU pretend to be stronger than the rest? ...
Wilt thou take up arms against thyself and Destiny? Thou madman!"--and
her lithe form quivered with concentrated rage--"Thou puny wretch that
dost first clutch at, and then refuse my love!--thou who dost oppose
thy miserable force to the Fate that hunts thee down!--thou who dost
gaze at me with such grave, child-foolish eyes! ... Beware, . . beware
of me! I hate thee as I hate ALL men! ... I will humble thee as I have
humbled the proudest of thy sex! ..--wheresoever thou goest I will
track thee out and torture thee! ... and thou shalt die--miserably,
lingeringly, horribly,--as I would have every man die could I fulfil my
utmost heart's desire! To-night, be free! ... but to-morrow as thou
livest, I will claim thee!"
Like an enraged Queen she stood,--one white, jewelled arm stretched
forth menacingly,--her bosom heaving, and her face aflame with wrath,
but Theos, leaning against Sah-luma's couch, heard her with as much
impassiveness as though her threatening voice were but the sound of an
idle wind. Only, when she ceased, he turned his untroubled gaze calmly
and full upon her,--and then,--to his own infinite surprise she
shivered and shrank backwards, while over her countenance flitted a
vague, undefinable, almost spectral expression of terror. He saw it,
and swift words came at once to his lips,--words that uttered
themselves without premeditation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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