the shrine of the false Idalian Queen? Thus it was that
she kept her oaths; thus she repaid her votary.

So he thought in the bitterness of his heart as he lay with closed eyes
upon the bed of torment whence there was no escape, and groaned: "Would,
Aphrodite, that I had never served thee, even for one little hour, then
had my lot gone otherwise."

Now he opened his eyes, and lo! a great glory rolled about the place
of torment, and as he wondered at the glory, a voice spoke from its
midst--the voice of the Idalian Aphrodite:

"Blame me not, Odysseus," said the heavenly voice; "blame me not because
thou art come to this pass. Thyself, son of Laertes, art to blame. What
did I tell thee? Was it not that thou shouldst know the Golden Helen by
the Red Star on her breast, the jewel whence fall the red drops fast,
and by the Star alone? And did she not tell thee, also, that thou
shouldst know her by the Star? Yet when one came to thee wearing no Star
but girdled with a Snake, my words were all forgotten, thy desires
led thee whither thou wouldst not go. Thou wast blinded by desire and
couldst not discern the False from the True. Beauty has many shapes, now
it is that of Helen, now that of Meriamun, each sees it as he desires
it. But the Star is yet the Star, and the Snake is yet the Snake, and
he who, bewildered of his lusts, swears by the Snake when he should have
sworn by the Star, shall have the Snake for guerdon."

She ceased, and the Wanderer spoke, groaning bitterly:

"I have sinned, O Queen!" he said. "Is there then no forgiveness for my
sin?"

"Yea, there is forgiveness, Odysseus, but first there is punishment.
This is thy fate. Never now, in this space of life, shalt thou be the
lord of the Golden Helen. For thou hast sworn by the Snake, and his thou
art, nor mayest thou reach the Star. Yet it still shines on. Through
the mists of death it shall shine for thee, and when thou wakest again,
behold, thine eyes shall see it fitfully.

"And now, this for thy comfort. Here thou shalt not die, nor by torment,
for thy death shall come to thee from the water as the dead seer
foretold, but ere thou diest, once more thou shalt look upon the Golden
Helen, and hear her words of love and know her kiss, though thine she
shall not be. And learn that a great host marches upon the land of Khem,
and with it sails a fleet of thine own people, the Achaeans. Go down and
meet them and take what comes, where the swords shine that smot