THOTH FORSWEARS HIS OATH.
“Before, however, we conquer the earth,” continued Thoth, in the same
unimpassioned yet dignified manner, “it is necessary to establish
the new order which I have set forth in our own city. It is needless
to say that this will be a matter of some difficulty. Thou hast seen
for thyself how repugnant are women to our ruling class, and that it
is their nature now to treat them with cruelty and contempt. Still,
with us the task is not hopeless, and, indeed, is quite possible. For,
in the first place, obedience to the vice-regent is by far the most
powerful motive of conduct, and also, in every respect our higher ranks
are slaves, not of any passion, but of pure reason. Therefore I could
say to my fellows of royal blood—such and such are the reasons, and
such is my will; and the obedience must follow as surely as day follows
the rising sun.”
As he spoke thus, a will of adamant shone through his eyes; but a
moment afterwards the troubled look of one who thinks he discovers an
error in his proof appeared in his face, and he paused for some time in
deep thought.
“But,” he continued, “it is no light matter to upset altogether the
growth of many hundred years, and to depart from the will of my great
ancestor, who in all else showed the perfection of wisdom. The ways of
error are as many as the paths of the sea, and I must take heed lest I
go astray. Therefore I have determined on two things as preliminary.
The first is no concern of thine, and I need waste but few words upon
it. Suffice it to say that I will take steps to see that this change is
approved by the first Thoth and all the vice-regents, as well as by the
present race.”
Daphne looked at him with horror and amazement.
“Surely,” she said, “thou canst not go down to the grave and consult
with the dead?”
“That,” he replied, “is, as I said, no concern of thine. But nothing
must be done to shake the bonds of obedience, and nothing left undone
to avoid the possibility of error. The fortune of the whole world and
of the future generations of men depends upon this act.”
Daphne looked at him steadfastly, half suspecting madness, but his
dark eyes gleamed with intelligence and firmness of purpose.
“Therefore,” he said, as if speaking to himself, “I will be advised
by the first king and all the vice-regents. In this manner obedience
and the rule of reason will even be strengthened. This is the first
precaution.
“The second safeguard,” he said, looking on Daphne as an archer looks
at an arrow intended for a fateful purpose, “is of more interest to
thee.
“At first I had intended at the same time to compel all the men of the
royal race to take for themselves honoured consorts of pure Grecian
blood, but chance or nature willed otherwise, and thy companions have
all perished—chance or nature,” he repeated, “not treachery—not
disobedience,”—and again for a moment he seemed to doubt.
“Thy companions have perished, and perchance it is better so for my
purpose. For, after much consideration, I have decided that the best
plan is to make at first a single experiment. Accordingly I will
explain to our chiefs my reasons and intentions, and will offer them an
example in my own person.
“I will show them that it is possible to honour women without the
madness of love, and that the children born of equals are superior.
Everything shall be done with full deliberation, and an imposing
ceremony shall be invented to show that I am not driven by the passion
which our great ancestor dreaded.”
He spoke rapidly, and Daphne listened to him without grasping his
meaning at the moment. His words had entered her ears, but had not
penetrated her heart.
But in an instant every word became a flaming dart and pierced her to
the quick, when he said—
“Therefore, in two months from this day, with all imaginable pomp, I
will make thee my queen.”
* * * * *
Daphne sprang up in the greatest excitement, and quivering with rage
and indignation.
“Thou stony image,” she cried, “know that I have not yet learned—no,
nor ever will learn—to obey thee, unnatural one, inhuman! I would
rather wed the lowest slave in Athens than thee. Has thy hideous
descent left in thee no trace of manly feeling, and no knowledge of
the heart of a woman? I would rather see the whole world desolate than
mingle my blood with thine!”
Thoth listened to her with undisguised astonishment, and replied to
her quite calmly—
“But what more couldst thou desire? Thou shalt be treated by every one,
from myself downwards, with the most obsequious honour. Thou shalt be
queen of the world, and the founder of the greatest race the earth has
ever borne. Surely thou hast misunderstood my meaning. Say in what I
have failed.”
Daphne was somewhat soothed by the calmness of the reply, but her pride
was still wounded. She resented the coldness of Thoth’s reasoning, and
she replied with passion—
“What more would I have? I would have one thing only, the first and the
last—love—human love.”
“And what,” said Thoth, with an appearance of intellectual interest,
“is love? What more than I have promised?”
The innocence of the answer of this wisest of men disarmed Daphne.
“Thy honour and respect could no more kindle a spark of love than all
the power of the ocean could kindle a little fire. Read again, if thou
hast the record, the story of thy ancestor, and know that I must be
loved as blindly as he loved the woman who, thou sayest, afterwards
betrayed him.”
She glided up to Thoth and took his hand. It was cool and steady. She
looked up in his face, but his features were unmoved and his eyes
passionless.
“Shall I tell thee,” she whispered, “how thou canst tell if thou really
lovest with all thy heart? I have never loved, and yet I know.”
By the strange contrariety of her nature, she suddenly longed to make
this man, whom she had just addressed with scorn, her ardent lover.
For the moment she forgot herself and her situation. Pride and dignity
left her, and she only desired, with all her force, to subdue this man.
She spoke to him as if she loved him, fearless of reproach, unmindful
of opinion.
“Love me,” she said, “and one look shall make me tremble—one caress
stop my pulses. My heart shall be lost in thine, like a drop of water
in a burning desert. Nothing but death shall separate us. Wilt thou
not leave the weary pursuit of knowledge, to read without effort
the open book of my soul? Look through mine eyes—is not the prize
worth grasping? Am I not beautiful, and throbbing with the fulness of
youthful life? See, my hand trembles in thine, and for one look of love
I would kiss thy lips.”
She spoke as if in a dream; but suddenly the hardness of Thoth, like
the blow of cold steel, dispelled the fascination. She shrank back,
her cheeks burned with shame, and she hid her face with her hands.
Then Thoth spoke to her words which tore her heart in pieces, and made
her helpless with dismay.
“I regret,” he said, “that thou hast utterly failed to grasp my purpose
and to understand my position. Dost thou think that I will surrender
my soul to the madness of love? Shall I keep at my side a passionate
creature who will seek to betray and thwart me, and destroy by her
animal nature the toil of generations? It is easy for me to imitate my
father, and to bring a child from Greece to train according to my will.
“Surely I will do this; and as for thee, thou shalt find a chamber in
our women’s palace, and thou and thy children shall be the slaves of my
will. Henceforth my oath is no more binding than if I had sworn it to a
dog or a slave.”
With these words he departed.