“So，ah，somusttheHathorseem，“shesaid，andlo！hervoicerangstrangelyinherears。Forthevoice，too，waschanged，itwasmoresoftthanthewhisperingofwind-stirredreeds；itwasmoresweetthanthemurmuringofbeesatnoon。
Nowshemustgoforth，andfearfulatherownlovelinessandheavywithhersin，yetgladwithastrangejoy，shepassesfromherchamberandglideslikeastarbeamthroughthestillhallsofherPalace。ThewhitelightofthemooncreepsintothemandfallsuponthefacesofthedreadfulGods，ontheawfulsmileofsphinxes，andthepicturesofherforefathers，kingsandqueenswholongweredead。Andasshegoessheseemstohearthemwhispereachtoeachofthedreadfulsinthatshehassinned，andofthesorrowthatshallbe。Butshedoesnotheed，andneverstaysherfoot。Forherheartisalightaswithaflame，andshewillwintheWanderertoherarms——theWanderersoughtthroughmanylives，foundaftermanydeaths。
NowtheWandererisinhischamber，waitingforthehourtosetforthtofindtheGoldenHelen。Hisheartisalight，andstrangedreamsofthepastgobeforehiseyes，andstrangevisionsoflonglovetobe。
Hisheartburnslikealampintheblackness，andbythatlightheseesallthedaysofhislifethathavebeen，andallthewarsthathehaswon，andalltheseasthathehassailed。Andnowheknowsthatthesethingsaredreamsindeed，illusionsofthesense，forthereisbutonethingtrueinthelifeofmen，andthatisLove；thereisbutonethingperfect，thebeautywhichisLove’srobe；thereisbutonethingwhichallmenseekandareborntofindatlast，theheartoftheGoldenHelen，theWorld’sDesire，thatispeaceandjoyandrest。
Hebindshisarmouronhim，forfoesmaylurkindarkness，andtakestheBowofEurytus，andthegreyboltsofdeath；forperchancethefightisnotyetdone，hemustcleavehiswaytojoy。Thenhecombshislocksandsetsthegoldenhelmuponthem，and，prayingtotheGodswhohearnot，hepassesfromhischamber。