“Verily thou art born in my image, and I should think thee my own son, but that a multitudinous murmuring, which only hundreds of my descendants could have uttered, has cursed thee, as I curse thee now. Think not that I, who have waited for my vengeance these thousands of years, will now stoop to entreat thee, puny weakling, to do what do thou must; for I command thee on the instant to slay this man, and unlock the gates of death. Thinkest thou because I am feeble and but half aroused from this deathly sleep, that therefore thou canst with impunity mock me thus? Nay, rather, but that Will which has kept me fixed in my resolve, and has made these hundreds keep most strictly all my laws, that Will, though now it be manifested by a feeble voice, cannot fail to force thy sickly nature as it listeth. By the wrongs I suffered from the foolish race of men, who would none of my counsel, though to every tribe I offered life and peace; by the blood which flows in thy veins, by the mighty ties of nature, by the oath I and these have sworn, I charge thee to do my bidding; tarry an instant and I curse thee with the fatal curse. Darest thou look on me, and these thy forefathers, and still let doubt divide thy mind? I charge thee, pour out on the world the measure of my hate; unlock these fatal gates, and, unworthy as thou art, look no longer on us, but cast thyself headlong, having fulfilled thine oath. My voice already fails—slay—slay—slay!” Thus ended the father of the haters of men, and the Egyptian drawing his sword, struck fiercely at Philetos; but less violent was the stroke than that with which the grass, bent by a gentle wind, smites the earth. He muttered— “I cannot; thrice before have I thus purposed, and thrice have I failed.” Then arose a shriek of horror from those dying men, and the father of them all, with a low, feeble, passionate voice, broke forth— “By the stars of heaven, by the caves of the sea, by mighty nature, mother of all things, who once articulately promised me this power over one man, I consign thee to unfathomable misery for a thousand thousand years. On the instant thou shalt die, and thy spirit herd with the loathliest animals. In murky darkness and loathsome air, now sinking in mire, with reptiles for thy pillow, now in burning sands alive with fiery serpents, thou shalt pass a miserable afterlife; more horrors than ever I could devise shall be thy portion. It is spoken! I curse thee with the fated curse!” And from the lips of those dying men arose the cry of “We curse thee!” They spoke no more, but with tottering steps advanced towards the two who were still in the flush of life. Then murmured the Egyptian— “Philetos, thou seest what I have done for thee; and now I cannot have my reward in simply clasping thy hand, for then thou must share my fate.” But Philetos, turning his back on the advancing hosts, clasped his friend by the hand, and in a ringing voice said—