"Go thou and save thyself," said Zoroaster. "I will not go. If it be the
will of the All-Wise that I perish, I will perish before this altar. Go
thou quickly and save thyself while there is yet time."
But Nehushta took his hand in hers, and gazed into his calm eyes.
"Knowest thou not, Zoroaster, that I would rather die with thee than
live with any other? I swear to thee, by the God of my fathers, I will
not leave thee!"
"There is no more time! There is no more time! Ye are all dead men!
Behold, they are breaking down the doors!"
As she spoke the noise of some heavy mass striking against the bronze
gates echoed like thunder through the temple, and at each blow a chorus
of hideous yells rose, wild and long drawn out.
"Can none of you save Zoroaster?" cried Nehushta.
But Zoroaster gently said:
"Ye cannot save me, for my hour is come; we must die like men, and like
priests of the Lord before His altar;" and, raising one hand to heaven,
he chanted:
"Praise we the all-wise God
Who hath made and created the years and the ages;
Praise Him who rides on death,
In whose hand are all power and honor and glory;
Who made the day of life,
That should rise up and lighten the shadow of death.
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