CHAPTER XVIII: THE DARK WISDOM
"They have made effigies comparable with my image, similar to my form, who have taken away my
breath, pulled out my hair, torn my garments, prevented my feet from moving by means of dust; with an
ointment of harmful herbs they rubbed me; to my death they have led me-O God of Fire destroy them!"
Egyptian Prayer
Three weeks had passed since the death of the doll-maker. Ricori and I sat at dinner in my home. A
silence had fallen between us. I had broken it with the curious invocation that begins this, the concluding
chapter of my narrative, scarcely aware that I had spoken aloud. But Ricori looked up, sharply.
"You quote someone? Whom?"
I answered: "A tablet of clay, inscribed by some Chaldean in the days of Assur-nizir-pal, three thousand