The evening came; the glorious Figure mounted the throne and called to prayer, but none bowed themselves in adoration.
"We are aweary of thee!" they cried.

"Make Evil King! Slay him! slay him! and loose the bonds of Evil! Make Evil King!" The glorious Shape rose up, gazing with mild eyes upon those wicked men.
"Ye know not what ye ask," he cried; "but as ye will, so be it! For if I die, by me, after much travail, shall ye once again find a path to the Kingdom of Good!" Even as he spoke, a Form, foul and hideous to behold, leapt upon him, cursing, slew him, tore him limb from limb, and amidst the clamour of the people sat himself upon the throne and ruled.

But a Shape whose face was veiled passed down from heaven on shadowy wings, and with lamentations gathered up the rent fragments of the Being.

A moment she bent herself upon them, then lifted up her hands and wept.

And as she wept, behold! from her side there sprang a warrior armed and with a face like the face of Ra at noon.