And he pointed his finger down the depths and said: "Throw down your
fan, and I will follow it!" And when he had spoken his breast rose and
sank, and he placed his hands on the railing and made ready for the
leap.
Then I cried out and closed my eyes....
But when I looked up I saw again the two people, and they were both
older and both in their prime. And the two did not speak to each
other, but were silent with their thoughts. And when I looked up the
sky was grey, and the two walked up the white castle-stairway, and she
was full of indifference, yes full of hate in her steely eyes, and
when I looked for the third time I saw also anger and hate in his
glance, and his hair was grey like the grey skies.
And as they ascended the stairs she dropped her fan, one step down it
dropped, and she said with quivering lips and pointed downward: "I
dropped my fan--there it lies on the lower step--please hand it to me,
dear!"
And he did not answer, but walked on and called a servant to pick up
the fan.
"This was Love," said Jehovah. "Love perishes. I am Jehovah!"
And Jehovah touched my eyes for the last time, and I beheld:
I saw a town and a public square, and I saw a scaffold.
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