‘“The god is hunting,” said the priest, looking strangely at me with his small slanting eyes.
‘“Tell me in what forest, and I will ride with him,” I answered.
‘He combed out the soft fringes of his tunic with his long pointed nails. “The god is asleep,” he murmured.
‘“Tell me on what couch, and I will watch by him,” I answered.
‘“The god is at the feast,” he cried.
‘“If the wine be sweet I will drink it with him, and if it be bitter I will drink it with him also,” was my answer.
‘He bowed his head in wonder, and, taking me by the hand, he raised me up, and led me into the temple.
‘And in the first chamber I saw an idol seated on a throne of jasper bordered with great orient pearls. It was carved out of ebony, and in stature was of the stature of a man. On its forehead was a ruby, and thick oil dripped from its hair on to its thighs. Its feet were red with the blood of a newly-slain kid, and its loins girt with a copper belt that was studded with seven beryls.
‘And I said to the priest, “Is this the god?” And he answered me, “This is the god.”
‘“Show me the god,” I cried, “or I will surely slay thee.” And I touched his hand, and it became withered.