the same fashion
ye shall die ere another night be sped."

Then she passed into the chamber, holding the signet on high, and the
tormentors fell upon their faces before her majesty. She passed between
them, and as she went she stamped with her sandalled foot upon the
waxen image and brake it. On the further side of the chamber was another
passage, and this she followed till she reached a door of stone that
stood ajar. Here she paused awhile, for from within the chamber there
came a sound of singing, and the voice was the Wanderer's voice, and
thus he sang:

"Endure, my heart: not long shalt thou endure
The shame, the smart;
The good and ill are done; the end is sure;
Endure, my heart!
There stand two vessels by the golden throne
Of Zeus on high,
From these he scatters mirth and scatters moan,
To men that die.
And thou of many joys hast had thy share,
Thy perfect part;
Battle and love, and evil things and fair;
Endure, my heart!
Fight one last greatest battle under shield,
Wage that war well:
Then seek thy fellows in the shadowy field
Of asphodel,
There is the knightly Hector; there the men
Who fought for Troy;
Shall we not fight our battles o'er again?
Were that not joy?
Though no sun shines beyond the dusky west,
Thy perfect part
There shalt thou have of the unbroken rest;
Endure, my heart!"

Meriamun heard and wondered at this man's hardihood, and the greatness
of his heart who could sing thus as he lay upon the bed of torment. Now
she pushed the door open silently and passed in. The place where she
stood was dreadful. It was shaped as a lofty vault, and all the walls
were painted with the torments of those who pass down to Set after
living wickedly on earth. In the walls were great rings of bronze, and
chains and fetters of bronze, wherein the bones of men yet hung. In the
centre of the vault there was a bed of stone on which the Wanderer was
fastened with fetters. He was naked, save only for a waistcloth, and at
his head and feet burned polished braziers that gave light to the vault,
and shone upon the instruments of torment. Beyond the further braziers
grinned the gate of Sekhet, that is shaped like a woman, and the chains
wherein the victim is set for the last torment by fire, were hanging
from the roof.

Meriamun passed stealthily behind the he