mercy, tearing themselves with their nails, for least of all things
did they desire to taste of their own medicine of death. But the king
"Hearken ye!" he said, pointing to the crowd of us who had been smelt
out. "Ye were doomed to death by these false prophets. Now glut
yourselves upon them. Slay them, my children! slay them all! wipe them
away! stamp them out!--all! all, save this young man!"
Then we bounded from the ground, for our hearts were fierce with hate
and with longing to avenge the terrors we had borne. The doomed slew
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