I do love and honour her,
he answered hoarsely. When she was still a child I loved her and because of that love I slew my brother, believing that on reaching womanhood she had come to favour him, which, it seems, she did only to draw me closer to her.
It would appear, Kallikrates, that this lady brings no good fortune to your race, since first she works the death of one of you, making a murderer of his own brother, and then of that brother fashions an apostate to his faith, yea, a traitor accursed of God and man.
It is so,
he said humbly. Yet she loves me much, so much that whether I will it or not, I must love her, since if the woman loves enough what can the man do but follow on the path she leads? Tell me, Prophetess, you who are wise, had you been a man and sat in my place there upon the ship Hapi, which is a narrow prison, what would you have done, being a man I say—as I am?
Perhaps just what you did, Kallikrates, and therefore have become accursed, as you are, Kallikrates, seeing that the lady was sweet and loving, and that man must remain man however great the oaths he has sworn to goddesses who do not throw their arms about him or kiss him on the lips.
Once I thought that a goddess did kiss me on the lips, Oracle of Isis, and the memory of that kiss is sweet and holy.
Is it so?
I answered. Well, since you are no more of our communion, I may tell you now that in the shrine at Philae I played the part of the goddess and gave that ceremonial kiss.
Now he stared at me, reddening, then muttered,
Always I guessed it who could not quite believe
