with thee the music of celestial harps, and
float, by the side of thy familiar, Adon-Ai, through the azure rivers of
joy,--the child, to live on a few days as a fungus in a burial-vault, a
thing of the loathsome dungeon, dying of cruelty and neglect and famine.
Ha! ha! thou who wouldst baffle Death, learn how the deathless die if
they dare to love the mortal. Now, Chaldean, behold my boons! Now I
seize and wrap thee with the pestilence of my presence; now, evermore,
till thy long race is run, mine eyes shall glow into thy brain, and mine
arms shall clasp thee, when thou wouldst take the wings of the Morning
and flee from the embrace of Night!"

"I tell thee, no! And again I compel thee, speak and answer to the lord
who can command his slave. I know, though my lore fails me, and the
reeds on which I leaned pierce my side,--I know yet that it is written
that the life of which I question can be saved from the headsman. Thou
wrappest her future in the darkness of thy shadow, but thou canst not
shape it. Thou mayest foreshow the antidote; thou canst not effect the
bane. From thee I wring the secret, though it torture thee to name it.
I approach thee,--I look dauntless into thine eyes. The soul that loves
can dare all things. Shadow, I defy thee, and compel!"

The spectre waned and recoiled. Like a vapour that lessens as the sun
pierces and pervades it, the form shrank cowering and dwarfed in the
dimmer distance, and through the casement again rushed the stars.

"Yes," said the Voice, with a faint and hollow accent, "thou CANST save
her from the headsman; for it is written, that sacrifice can save. Ha!
ha!" And the shape again suddenly dilated into the gloom of its giant
stature, and its ghastly laugh exulted, as if the Foe, a moment baffled,
had regained its might. "Ha! ha!--thou canst save her life, if thou wilt
sacrifice thine own! Is it for this thou hast lived on through crumbling
empires and countless generations of thy race? At last shall Death
reclaim thee? Wouldst thou save her?--DIE FOR HER! Fall, O stately
column, over which stars yet unformed may gleam,--fall, that the herb at
thy base may drink a few hours longer the sunlight and the dews! Silent!
Art thou ready for the sacrifice? See, the moon moves up through
heaven. Beautiful and wise one, wilt thou bid her smile to-morrow on thy
headless clay?"

"Back! for my soul, in answering thee from depths where thou canst not
hear it, has regained its glory; and I h