ds, spaces, and times, from aeon
unto aeon, till the world is dead, and the worlds beyond the world are
dead, and naught liveth but the Spirit that is Life. But for us twain
and for these dead ones shall the end of ends be Life, or shall it be
Death? As yet Death is but Life's Night, but out of the night is the
Morrow born again, and doth again beget the Night. Only when Day and
Night, and Life and Death, are ended and swallowed up in that from which
they came, what shall be our fate, oh Holly? Who can see so far? Not
even I!"

And then, with a sudden change of tone and manner--

"Hast thou seen enough, my stranger guest, or shall I show thee more of
the wonders of these tombs that are my palace halls? If thou wilt, I can
lead thee to where Tisno, the mightiest and most valorous King of Kor,
in whose day these caves were ended, lies in a pomp that seems to mock
at nothingness, and bid the empty shadows of the past do homage to his
sculptured vanity!"

"I have seen enough, oh Queen," I answered. "My heart is overwhelmed
by the power of the present Death. Mortality is weak, and easily broken
down by a sense of the companionship that waits upon its end. Take me
hence, oh Ayesha!"

XVII

THE BALANCE TURNS

In a few minutes, following the lamps of the mutes, which, held out
from the body as a bearer holds water in a vessel, had the appearance of
floating down the darkness by themselves, we came to a stair which led
us to _She's_ ante-room, the same that Billali had crept up upon on all
fours on the previous day. Here I would have bid the Queen adieu, but
she would not.

"Nay," she said, "enter with me, oh Holly, for of a truth thy
conversation pleaseth me. Think, oh Holly: for two thousand years have I
had none to converse with save slaves and my own thoughts, and though
of all this thinking hath much wisdom come, and many secrets been made
plain, yet am I weary of my thoughts, and have come to loathe mine own
society, for surely the food that memory gives to eat is bitter to the
taste, and it is only with the teeth of hope that we can bear to bite
it. Now, though thy thoughts are green and tender, as becometh one so
young, yet are they those of a thinking brain, and in truth thou dost
bring back to my mind certain of those old philosophers with whom in
days bygone I have disputed at Athens, and at Becca in Arabia, for thou
hast the same crabbed air and dusty look, as though thou hadst passed
thy days in readin