"O my ill-fated, my beloved fellow-countrymen!" he exclaimed, extending his arms with a vehemently pleading gesture as though in the excess of emotion he would have drawn all the people to his heart.--"Ye unhappy ones? ... have I not given ye warning? Have I not bidden ye beware of this great evil which should come to pass?--Evil for which there is no remedy,--none,--neither in the earth, nor the sea, nor the invisible comforts of the air! ... for God hath spoken, and who shall contradict the thunder of His voice! Behold the end is at hand of all the pleasant things of Al-Kyris,--the feasting and the musical assemblies, the cymbal-symphonies and the choir-dances, the labors of students and the triumphs of sages,--all these shall seem but the mockery of madness in the swift-descending night of overwhelming destruction! Woe is me that ye would not listen when I called, but turned every man to his own devices and the following after idols? Nay now, what will ye do in extremity?--Will ye chant hymns to the Sun? Lo, he is deaf and blind for all his golden glory, and is but a taper set in the window of the sky, to be extinguished at God's good pleasure! Will ye supplicate Nagaya? O fools and desperate!--how shall a brute beast answer prayer!--Vain, vain is all beseeching,--shut forever are the doors of escape,--therefore cover yourselves with the garments of burial,--prepare each one his grave and rich funeral things,--gather together the rosemary and myrrh, the precious ointments and essences, the strings of gold and the jewelled talismans whereby ye think to fight against corruption,--and fall down, every man in his own wrought hollow in the ground, face turned to earth and die--for Death hath broken through the strong gates of Al-Kyris, and hath taken the City Magnificent captive unknowingly! Alas, alas! that ye would not follow whither I led,--that ye would not hearken to the Vision of the Future, dimly yet gloriously revealed! ... the Future! ... the Future!" ... He broke off suddenly, and raising his eyes to the deep blue sky above him, seemed for a moment as though he were caught up in the cloud of some wondrous dream. Still the enormous throng of people stood hushed and motionless,--not a word, not a sound escaped them,--there was something positively appalling in such absolute immobility,--at least it appeared so to Theos, who could not understand this dispassionate behavior on the part of so large and lately excited a multitude. All at once a voice marvellously tender, clear, and pathetic trembled on the silence,--was it, could it be the voice of Khosrul? Yes! but so changed, so solemn, so infinitely sweet, that it might have been some gentle angel speaking: