Suddenly a thought flashed through her mind, and without asking Thoth’s permission, she threw off her disguise and addressed the artist. At once she uttered a low cry of pleasure, and ran to embrace Daphne. Then she turned to Thoth and spoke to him in broken words. At Daphne’s request Thoth acted as interpreter, and told her the woman wished Daphne to remain as her companion. Daphne wept with pity, and Thoth led her away, the artist in vain trying to repress a cry of despair.
Thus they visited room after room, and through all the variety of occupations in which the miserable women were engaged, the same features were conspicuous. Their labour was, without exception, either most irksome, most useless, most trifling, or else degrading, and yet it evidently required the highest degree of cunning and perseverance.
In appearance, many of the women had been made physically most repulsive,—some maimed, some blind, some almost shapeless with distortion; and those whose bodies had escaped, had been deformed to a much worse extent in mind. Without exception they shuddered on the entry of the masks, and showed their terror in the most undisguised manner. Apparently Thoth tried to take away their fears, and to inform them that for the future they would live happily; but they listened with dull incredulity, and seemed quite hopeless.
In the whole of this vast building there was not a single creature who could have kindled a spark of love in the heart of the most impassioned of men.
Daphne was sickened by the spectacle, and oppressed with a heavy weight of sadness. She tried to escape, but her companion told her it was necessary for her to see more, and that he would show her the least revolting of the women. Daphne shrank from imagining what worse horrors the building might contain.
When they at last emerged the very sunlight seemed polluted, and the fresh air laden with pestilence.
As they made their way to the gate, Thoth spoke to the hideous giantess, and she showed the same surprise as her captives. To her Thoth spoke in a tongue which Daphne understood, and told her that she was to be replaced, and that until another guardian came, she was to leave the women unmolested. The ogress ventured to remonstrate, but at the first sentence Thoth sternly cried, “Darest thou question me?” and touched her hand with the end of his golden staff, whereupon the monster fell as one dead. As if to excuse himself, Thoth said—
“There is no further use for her: it is better thus.”
Then said Daphne, “Is she dead?”
“Yes,” he replied,—“dead beyond all aid; and to all her kind will I do likewise.”