'Worship the demi-god who moves with the deities through spheres unknown
to man! I have heard the moans of the unburied who wander on the shores
of the Lake of the Dead--worship! I have looked on the river whose
black current roars and howls in its course through the caves of
everlasting night--worship! I have seen the furies lashed by serpents
on their wrinkled necks, and followed them as they hurled their torches
over the pining ghosts! I have stood unmoved in the hurricane-tumult of
hell--worship! worship! worship!'
He turned round again towards the altar of idols, calling upon his gods
to proclaim his deification, and at the moment when he moved, Goisvintha
sprang forward. Antonina was kneeling with her face turned from the
door, as the assassin seized her by her long hair and drove the knife
into her neck. The moaning accents of the girl, bewailing her
approaching fate, closed in one faint groan; she stretched out her arms,
and fell forward over her father's body.
In the ferocious triumph of the moment, Goisvintha raised her arm to
repeat the stroke; but at that instant the madman looked round.
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