The Mother’s Tragedy

44 THE FATAL FORCE THE LEPER. I did not fall in battle; but my queen Saw on my breast the livid mark of sin That was the leprosy of her own soul, And drove me forth to compass my disgrace With infamies ineffable. PACHAD. I know; I shall avenge. The old gods come again. THE LEPER. Nay! I have lived through all these barren years, Discrowned, diseased, abominable, cast out, And meditating on the event of life, And that initiated Hope that we, Royal, inherit, of the final life, Nor newer incarnation, and possessed Of strange powers, who have moved about this court Loathed, and unrecognised, and shunned, have thought That the old bondage was as terrible As thine incestuous mother’s iron hand, Rending the entrails of her growing realm To seek her bloody fate, whose violence Even now makes the abyss of wrath divine Boil in the deep. Thou mayest be that great Osiris, bidding man’s high soul be free, Justified in its own higher self, made pure And perfect in its own eyes, being a god. Destroy this priestcraft. We are priests indeed,