“Are you sure of that?” inquired the Doctor, eagerly. “If so, would
you not give your information. …”
“I neither give my information nor sell it,” interrupted the Princess,
smiling coldly. “I am only a woman--and women are supposed to know
nothing. With the rest of my sex, I am judged illogical and
imaginative; you wise men would call my knowledge of history
deficient, my facts not proven. But, if you like, I will tell you the
story of the construction of the Great Pyramid, and why it is unlikely
that anyone will ever find the treasures that are buried within it.
You can receive the narrative with the usual incredulity common to
men; I shall not attempt to argue the pros and cons with you, because
I never argue. Treat it as a fairy-tale--no woman is ever supposed to
know anything for a fact,--she is too stupid. Only men are wise!”
Her dark, disdainful glance flashed on Gervase and Denzil; anon she
smiled bewitchingly, and added:
“Is it not so?”
“Wisdom is nothing compared to beauty,” said Gervase. “A beautiful
woman can turn the wisest man into a fool.”
The Princess laughed lightly.
“Yes, and a moment afterwards he regrets his folly,” she said. “He
clamors for the beautiful woman as a child might cry for the moon, and
when he at last possesses her, he tires. Satisfied with having
compassed her degradation, he exclaims: ‘What shall I do with this
beauty, which, because it is mine, now palls upon me? Let me kill it
and forget it; I am aweary of love, and the world is full of women!’
That is the way of your sex, Monsieur Gervase; it is a brutal way, but
it is the one most of you follow.”
“There is such a thing as love!” said Denzil, looking up quickly, a
pained flush on his handsome face.
“In the hearts of women, yes!” said Ziska, her voice growing tremulous
with strange and sudden passion. “Women love--ah!--with what force and
tenderness and utter abandonment of self! But their love is in
ninety-nine cases out of a hundred utterly wasted; it is a _largesse_
flung to the ungrateful, a jewel tossed in the mire! If there were not
some compensation in the next life for the ruin wrought on loving
women, the Eternal God himself would be a mockery and a jest.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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