On the beautiful statue in the middle of the apartment a number of stony figures looked down with sneering hatred. This grouping she might possibly have thought accidental, but the pictures left no doubt as to the design of the whole chamber. In every case beautiful women were being treated in a degraded manner, and men of the same race as Thoth were depicted as treating them with absolute loathing and disgust.
Then in Daphne’s breast fear gave way to anger and offended pride, and she said to Thoth—
“How dost thou dare to show such things to me? Is this thy respect and honour? Dost thou not know that man is raised above the beasts only by the reverence paid to women? I loathe thy city, thy race, and thee! Of what avail is all the miserable skill and cunning of thy slaves? A swallow or locust can fly more easily, a spider is a better spinner, and the tiniest flower draws more varied beauty from the dull earth. I scorn thy boasted reason. Liar and hypocrite! how canst thou stay in my presence? Throw off thy mask and let me see thy cowardly features livid with fear and shame. Let me see before I die that in this abominable spot one blow in honour of women has struck home. Take off that mask—wilt thou make me mad? Down with the mask, I say, or my reason will not hold till I can find a way to death. Thou shalt not make me mad, and keep me for thy lust and cruelty in this horrid den. Hast thou no dagger—no deadly poison? Let me die! Monster, make thyself human for a moment, and being human, slay me. I will not be maddened and polluted.”
Such and other wild words spoke Daphne, every moment becoming more and more infuriated, and, in truth, approaching the verge of madness. At last she rushed at Thoth and tore off his mask with a passionate cry.
His face struck her dumb with amazement. Instead of shame and fear, she saw wonder and triumph depicted on his features. Yet his look was rather like that of a spectator in a theatre who applauds a good actor, than of a man in real life. Certainly he showed neither contempt nor lust nor cruelty. The flood of passion in Daphne’s soul was swept away in momentary wonder, and she fell senseless to the ground.
CHAPTER IX.
THE WOMEN OF ROYAL RACE.
When Daphne recovered consciousness she was surrounded by her little servants, all of whom manifested the most tender interest in her welfare. She was still in the same apartment, but every vestige of painting and sculpture had been removed, except the beautiful statue in the middle.
Just as she opened her eyes Thoth himself was placing on the statue’s head a wreath of laurel, and a number of the pigmies were encircling the limbs and body with garlands of beautiful flowers.
Thoth had resumed his mask, but removed it as soon as he observed she was aroused. His features were perfectly calm, and saying “All shall be explained to thy liking,” he departed.
The little people drew Daphne in a low carriage back to the palace, and she soon slept, wearied with her passion and wonder.