Miranda stooped trembling over the flaming altar, but with gentle courage she took the fiery needle in her hand; as she did so, she raised her eyes trustingly towards her guide, and moved a step nearer to him.
Here in the enchanted palace of his fathers, surrounded by mysterious influences, and excited by the anticipated victory over Miranda's spell, the youth for once forgot his careful self-command. He also advanced, and stretched out his eager hands to bound the needle's range.
In a low musical tone the Princess pronounced the fateful words; ere she finished, she leant insensibly forwards, and the needle almost touched the Enchanter's breast. Overcome with mingled emotions, Miranda, while she spoke, swayed visibly to and fro, and as if to support her, Eudæmon's arms fell on either side of her tottering figure.
At this moment the Queen, terribly discomposed, and forgetting in her displeasure every solemn promise she had made, rushed forward, loudly crying, "Misguided girl!" but ere she could continue her sentence, a tremendous peal of thunder shook the ground beneath their feet, and vibrated around them. An intensely lurid ray of light darted athwart the heretofore empty throne. To Queen Margaret's unspeakable dread, she beheld indistinctly amid the dazzling beams an awful form enthroned in fire. A rushing noise filled her ears, she became insensible, and as she did so, she seemed to fall prone through interminable depths.
It was long before she recovered her consciousness, but at last she was aroused by the sound of sweet singing,
"I would I were a little bird,
To build upon his breast,
Or if I were a nightingale,
To soothe my love to rest.