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Updated: May 20, 2025
Theos gazed down upon him in unspeakable, melancholy scorn, . . was it only through time-serving creatures such as this miserable Zabastes, that the after-glory of perished poets was proclaimed to the world? ... What then was the actual worth of Fame?
Meanwhile Theos, in the company of his new friend, began to express his thanks for the timely rescue he had received, but Sah-luma waived all such acknowledgments aside.
Her lips parted in a faint sigh, a glance like fire flashed from beneath her black, silken lashes, ... "Theos!" she said tremulously. "Theos!" and waited. He, mute and oppressed by indistinct, hovering recollections, fed his gaze on her seductive fairness for one earnest moment longer, then suddenly advancing he knelt before her, and took her unresisting hands in his.
Theos followed him, and stood leaning on the balustrade among the clambering vines, watching him with earnest, half-regretful half-adoring eyes.
But throughout the rest of the Aryan world it achieved a nobler career, producing the Greek theos, the Lithuanian diewas, the Latin deus, and hence the modern French Dieu, all meaning God.
Theos, holding Sah-luma's arm, stepped eagerly across the threshold; he was brimful of expectation: . . and what mattered it to him whether the weed-like things that grew in this strange pavilion were pure or poisonous, provided he might look once more upon the witching face that long ago had so sweetly enticed him to his ruin! ... Stay! what was he thinking of? Long ago?
Theos and Sah-luma took immediate advantage of this lull in the conflict, to try and secure for themselves a better point of vantage, though there was much difficulty in pressing through the closely packed throng, inasmuch as not a man moved to give them passage-room.
They closed this canticle softly and slowly, . . then flinging themselves prone, they pressed their faces to the earth, . . and again the glittering Veil waved to and fro suggestively, while Theos, his heart beating fast, watched its shining woof with straining eyes and a sense of suffocation in his throat, . . what ignorant fools, what mad barbarians, what blind blasphemers were these people, he indignantly thought, who could thus patiently hear the praise of an evil woman like Lysia publicly proclaimed with almost divine honors!
Scarcely conscious of what he did, Theos approached her, and kneeling on one knee took that fair, soft hand in his own and kissed it with passionate fervor. "Criminal as I am," he murmured tremulously, "I glory in my crime, nor will I seek forgiveness? Nay, rather will I plead, with thee that I may sin so sweet a sin again, and blind myself with beauty unreproved!"
"Why is it impossible?" asked Theos with a quiver of passionate earnestness in his voice, "Are there none in all the world who would sacrifice their own interests to further another's welfare and happiness?" The Priest smiled, a delicately derisive smile.
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