And as she whispered of joy to be, and things too holy to be written, the face of the Wanderer grew bright, like the face of a God.
Then suddenly his head fell back, and he was dead, dead upon the heart of the World’s Desire. For thus was fulfilled the oath of Idalian Aphrodite, and thus at the last did Odysseus lie in the arms of the Golden Helen.
Now Meriamun clasped her breast, and her lips turned white with pain. But Helen rose, and standing at the Wanderer’s head looked on Meriamun, who stood at his feet.
“My sister,” said Helen to the Queen; “see now the end of all. He whom we loved is lost to us, and what hast thou gained? Nay, look not so fiercely on me. I may not be harmed of thee, as thou hast seen, and thou mayest not be harmed of me, who would harm none, though ever thou wilt hate me who hate thee not, and till thou learnest to love me, Sin shall be thy portion and Bitterness thy comfort.”
But Meriamun spoke no word.
Then Helen beckoned to Rei and spake to him, and Rei went weeping to do her bidding.
Presently he returned again, and with him were soldiers bearing torches. The soldiers lifted up the body of the Wanderer, and bore it to a mighty pyre that was built up of the wealth of the barbarians, of chariots, spears, and the oars of ships, of wondrous fabrics, and costly furniture. And they laid the Wanderer on the pyre, and on his breast they laid the black bow of Eurytus.
Then Helen spoke to Rei once more, and Rei took a torch and fired the pyre so that smoke and flame burst from it. And all the while Meriamun stood by as one who dreams.
Now the great pyre was a mass of flame, and the golden armour of the Wanderer shone through the flame, and the black bow twisted and crumbled in the heat. Then of a sudden Meriamun gave a great cry, and tearing the snake girdle from her middle hurled it on the flames.
“From fire thou camest, thou Ancient Evil,” she said in a dead tongue; “to fire get thee back again, false counsellor.”