When however he reached the plain, light and air seemed to revive him and restore his scattered senses; and gazing wildly around he exclaimed, "Where am I? what place is this? Methinks all seems wondrous, new, and strange! Where is my father? And where! oh, where, is my Arsinoë? Alas, alas!" continued he wildly; "I had forgotten--I hoped it was a dream, a fearful dream, for methinks I have been long asleep. Was it, indeed, reality? Are all, all gone? And was that hideous scene true?--those horrors that still haunt my memory like a ghastly vision? Speak! speak!" continued he, his voice rising in thrilling energy as he spoke--"speak! let me hear the sound of another's voice, before my brain is lost in madness. Have I entered Hades, or am I still on earth?--yes, yes, it is still the earth, for there the mighty Pyramid, I caused to be erected, towers behind me. Yet where is Memphis? where my forts and palaces? What a dark, smoky mass of buildings now surrounds me!--Can this be the once proud Queen of Cities? Oh, no! I see no palaces, no temples--Memphis is fallen. The mighty barrier that protected her splendour from the waste of waters, must have been swept away by the encroaching inroads of the swelling Nile. But is this the Nile?" continued he, looking wildly upon the river; "sure I must be deceived. It is the fatal river of the dead. No papyrine boats glide smoothly on its surface; but strange, infernal vessels, vomiting forth volumes of fire and smoke. Holy Osiris, defend me! where am I? where have I been? A misty veil seems thrown upon the face of nature. Awake, awake!" cried he, with a scream of agony; "set me free; I did not mean to slay him!" Then throwing himself violently upon the ground, he lay for some moments, apparently insensible. Then slowly rising, he looked at himself, and a deep, unnatural shuddering convulsed his whole frame. His sensations of identity became confused, and he recoiled with horror from himself: "These are the trappings of a mummy!" murmured he in a hollow whisper. "Am I then dead?" The next instant, however, he broke into a wild laugh of derision:--"Poor, feeble wretch!" cried he; "what do I fear?--Need _I_ tremble, in whose bosom dwells everlasting fire? No--no! let me rather rejoice. I cannot be more wretched; why then should I dread a change? I should rather welcome it with transport, and bravely dare my fate." At this moment the car of the balloon caught his eye: "Ah! what is that?" cried he; "I am summoned! 'Tis the boat of Hecate, ready to ferry me across the Mærian Lake, to learn my final doom. I come! I come! I fear no judgment! My hell is here!" and, striking his bosom, leaped into the car, and stamped violently against its sides.