To Theos’s imagination it looked a creature more sorrowful than fierce,—­a poor charmed brute, that while netted in the drowsy woofs of its mistress Lysia’s magnetic spell, seemed as though it dimly wondered why it should thus be raised aloft for the adoration of infatuated humankind.  Its brilliant crest quivered and emitted little arrowy scintillations of lustre—­the “god” was ill at ease in the midst of all his splendor, and two or three times bent back his gleaming neck as though desirous of descending to the level ground.

But when these hints of rebellion declared themselves in the tremors running through the scaly twists of his body, Lysia looked up, and at once, compelled as it were by involuntary attraction, “Nagaya the Divine” looked down.  The strange, subtle, mesmeric, sleepy eyes of the woman met the glittering green, mournful eyes of the snake,—­and thus the two beautiful creatures regarded each other steadfastly and with an apparent vague sympathy, till the “deity,” evidently overcome by a stronger will than his own, and resigning himself to the inevitable, twisted his radiant head back again to the top of the ebony staff, and again surveyed the kneeling crowds of worshippers.

Presently his glistening jaws opened,—­his tongue darted forth vibratingly,—­and he gave vent to a low hissing sound, erecting and depressing his crest with extraordinary rapidity, so that it flashed like an aigrette of rare gems.  Then, with slow and solemn step, the Priest Zel advanced to the front of the Shrine, and spreading out his hands in the manner of one pronouncing a benediction, said loudly and with emphasis: 

  “Nagaya the Divine doth hear the prayers of his people! 
  “Nagaya the Supreme doth accept the offered Sacrifice! 
  “Bring forth the victim!”

The last words were spoken with stern authoritativeness, and scarcely had they been uttered when the great entrance doors of the Temple flew open, and a procession of children appeared, strewing flowers and singing: 

  “O happy Bride, we bring thee unto joy and peace! 
  “To thee are opened the Palaces of the Air,
  “The beautiful silent Palaces where the bright stars dwell
  “O happy Bride of Nagaya! how fair a fate is thine!”

Pausing, they flung wreaths and garlands among the people, and continued: 

  “O happy Bride! for thee are past all Sorrows and Sin,
  “Thou shalt never know shame, or pain or grief or the
   weariness of tears;
  “For thee no husband shall prove false, no children prove
   ungrateful;
  “O happy Bride of Nagaya! how glad a fate is thine. 
  “O happy Bride! when thou art wedded to the beautiful god, the
   god of Rest,—­
  “Thou shalt forget all trouble and dwell among sweet dreams for
   ever! 
  “Thou art the blessed one, chosen for the love-embraces of
   Nagaya! 
  “O happy Bride! ... how glorious a fate is thine!”