the great effort; those who would be truly happy must be content with small things.  That is what makes children so happy.  Apples and pears!  Well, everything will be at an end for me ere long—­even those.  But if the great First Cause spares himself in the universal crash, there is still the grand idea of Apples and Pears; and who knows but that it may please Him, when this world is destroyed, to frame another to come after it.  Will He then once more embody the ideas of Man—­and Apples and Pears?  It would be plagiarism from himself.  Nay, if He is merciful, He will never again give substance to that hybrid idea called Man; or, if He does, He will let the poor wretch be happy with apples and pears—­I mean trivial joys; for all higher joys, be they what they may, are vanity and vexation....  Give me another draught.  Ah, that is good!  And to-morrow is the end.  I could find it in my heart to regret the good gifts of Dionysus myself; it is better than apples and pears; next to that comes the joy that Eros bestows on mortals, and there must be an end to all that, too.  That, however, is above the level of apples and pears.  It is great, very great happiness, and mingled therefor with bitter sorrow.  Rapture and anguish—­who can lay down the border line that divides them?  Smiles and tears alike belong to both.  And you are weeping?  Aye, aye—­ poor child!  Come here and kiss me.”  Damia drew the head of the kneeling girl close to her bosom and pressed her lips to Gorge’s brow.  Presently, however, she relaxed her embrace and, looking about the room, she exclaimed: 

“How you have mixed and upset the book-rolls!  If only I could show you how clearly everything agrees and coincides.  We know now exactly how it will all happen.  By the day after to-morrow there will be no more earth, no more sky; and I will tell you this, child:  If, when Serapis falls, the universe does not crumble to pieces like a ruinous hovel, then the wisdom of the Magians is a lie, the course of the stars has nothing to do with the destinies of the earth and its inhabitants, the planets are mere lamps, the sun is no more than a luminous furnace, the old gods are marsh-fires, emanations from the dark bog of men’s minds—­and the great Serapis...  But why be angry with him?  There is no doubt—­no if nor but ....Give me the diptychon and I will show you our doom.  There—­just here—­my sight is so dazzled, I cannot make it out.—­And if I could, what matter?  Who can alter here below what has been decided above?  Leave me to sleep now, and I will explain it all to you to-morrow if there is still time.  Poor child, when I think how we have tormented you to learn what you know, and how industrious you have been!  And now—­to what end?  I ask you, to what end?  The great gulf will swallow up one and all.”

“So be it, so be it !” cried Gorgo interrupting her.  “Then, at any rate, nothing that I love on earth will be lost to me before I die!”