Thoth: A RomanceNicholson, J. Shield (Joseph Shield)
Science
Thoth: A Romance
Nicholson, J. Shield (Joseph Shield)
English fiction -- 19th century
Only once before had he passed through the massive entrance, and
then a single lamp, carried in the hand, had afforded him glimpses
only of the architecture of the place, where the Egyptians, wrapt in
their everlasting robes, were waiting for the time when it should
be permitted them to link together again the broken chain of life,
and end their existence with a moment of delirious joy—of joy so
intense as to compensate for all their life-long toil, and a voluntary
entombment of a thousand years. Even then, when a thousandth part was
not revealed to him, what he had seen had caused him to tremble. The
pillars by which the roof was supported seemed of adamantine strength;
but this was relieved by no graceful capital, nor was the surface
smooth and polished. On the contrary, deeply engraven on the stone were
unintelligible signs, and exact images of the loathliest animals and
most noxious plants.
There were sculptured groups in abundance; but hate and destruction in
their most horrible garbs formed the only theme. Here was a serpent
enveloping a deer in its scaly folds; the deer had been designed with
the most graceful form, but the marble of which it was carved seemed
shivering with horror. There, again, was a man of unshapely form, but
evidently of immense strength, with a brow that denoted the highest
intelligence, and features that expressed the intensest cruelty,
strangling a being of the most perfect stature and beauty. There were
pictures, too, and in one of these, at first glance, he had missed the
prevailing emotion. A number of maidens were bathing, as careless,
unconscious, and graceful as water-lilies hardly moved by the breeze;
but when he looked again he saw beneath the water a monster that seemed
half alligator, half serpent, and yet altogether human.
These glimpses had filled him with horror on his first visit, but now
the light of an African sun fully revealed the minutest details. The
pillars with their engraven loathliness, the paintings and sculptures
almost innumerable, seemed as if they had been suddenly endowed
with life by the heat and glare of the sun. But they formed only an
appropriate setting to the rest of the picture.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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