"Arise, arise, arise! O Sun of all suns, O first fruits of them that slept, arise!" they repeated, also all at once, to the ringing of the citherns and the squealing of flutes. This meant: "grow up as high as our legs are thrown up, o ear of corn, arise, thou dead one!"
And the mourners wept:
"Come to thy sister, come, my Beloved,
Thou whose heart now beats no more!
I am thy sister who loved thee on earth,
No one has loved thee more than I!"
Suddenly a quiver passed over the corpse, as over a chrysalis when a butterfly stirs within it—a tremor that was like the tremulous lightnings in the sky, as though the same miracle were happening in the human body and in the heavens.
The grave clothes wrapped round the corpse were slowly unwound; the hand was slowly raised to the face as that of one waking from profound slumber; the knees bent slowly; the elbows rested against the bottom of the coffin and the body began to rise.
"Arise! Arise! Arise!" the dancers repeated as an incantation, throwing up their legs higher than their heads in the magical dance.
The light of the Zodiac was no longer visible in the rosy light of the dawn. A glowing ember blazed up in the misty crevice of the Arabian mountains and the first ray of the sun glistened on Aton's disc.
At the same moment the corpse rose, opened its eyes and smiled—and in that smile there was eternal life, the sun that has no setting.
"Dio, the dancer, the Pearl of the Kingdom of the Seas," a whisper was heard in the crowd of the courtiers.
The priestesses finished their magical dance and fell, face downwards, on the ground. The citherns and flutes were silent except one which was still weeping; it was like a lonely bird crying in the twilight: