The solitary figure, the haughty torch-bearer, draws nearer, until Chios sees by the lurid glare the dark masses of hair floating on the wind, and fancies he sees the mysterious eyes beneath the marble brow. He could not mistake her—he knew her too well. It was Saronia, the priestess, arrayed in her priestly robes.
She was standing by the statue of the great goddess with head thrown back. The flame of the torch like a serpent of fire coiled and uncoiled like a living thing, and lit up the band of gold which circled her head, and shone on her mantle of sable hue.
Then, stretching out her hands towards the earth, she addressed the goddess:
'Hail, Hecate!
Hail, Diana!
Luna, Hail!
Goddess of Heaven, the Earth, and the Underworld.
Thou rollest the heavens around the steady pole.
Thou illuminest the sun.
Thou governest the world.
Thou treadest on the dark realms of Tartarus.
The stars move responsive to thy command.
The gods rejoice in thy divinity.
The hours and the seasons return by thy appointment,
And the elements reverence thy decree.
Hear me, O Moon!
Hear me, great Saviour!
Listen, dread Hecate!
A black lamb I bring thee.'
Then, seizing the lamb, she raised it to the altar and slew it, and the red blood danced o'er the marble shrine. And taking a golden vase filled with baneful oblation, she poured it over the victim, at the same time swinging the torch to and fro above her head, chanting:
'Come forth, thou moon, with propitious light.
Cold, silent goddess! at this witching hour
To thee I'll chant.
Hail, Hecate! prodigious demon, hail!
Come at the last, and make the work prevail,
That the strong brewage may perform its part,
No worse than that was made by Circe's art,
By bold Medea, terrible as fair,
Or Perimedea of the golden hair.'
Then the earth shook, and spiral columns of vapour rose around the altar, and from each column came a spectre of fire and stood with outstretched hands.
The priestess placed the resinous wood around the sacrifice, and applying her torch, the altar was crowned with flame, and the spirits drew nigh and drank up the odour, dancing in wild fury around the pyre.