Uprearing themselves
in tall slender lines of light, they thus remained burning all
pallid and motionless; and in the mirror which their lustre formed
upon the round table of ebony at which we sat, each of us there
assembled beheld the pallor of his own countenance, and the unquiet
glare in the downcast eyes of his companions. Yet we laughed and
were merry in our proper way- which was hysterical; and sang the songs
of Anacreon- which are madness; and drank deeply- although the
purple wine reminded us of blood. For there was yet another tenant
of our chamber in the person of young Zoilus. Dead, and at full length
he lay, enshrouded; the genius and the demon of the scene. Alas! he
bore no portion in our mirth, save that his countenance, distorted
with the plague, and his eyes, in which Death had but half
extinguished the fire of the pestilence, seemed to take such
interest in our merriment as the dead may haply take in the
merriment of those who are to die. But although I, Oinos, felt that
the eyes of the departed were upon me, still I forced myself not to
perceive the bitterness of their expression, and gazing down
steadily into the depths of the ebony mirror, sang with a loud and
sonorous voice the songs of the son of Teios. But gradually my songs
they ceased, and their echoes, rolling afar off among the sable
draperies of the chamber, became weak, and undistinguishable, and so
faded away.
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