“The palace of the Divine Wife was of silver, crowning the tallest mountain in the moon, and thence she passed often to the sun, in the heart of which, a source of eternal light, Osiris kept his palace of gold too shining for man to look at.
“One time- there are no days with the gods- while she was full pleasantly with him on the roof of the golden palace, she chanced to look, and afar, just on the line of the universe, saw Indra passing with an army of simians, all borne upon the backs of flying eagles. He, the Friend of Living Things- so much love is Indra called- was returning from his final war with the hideous Rakshakas- returning victorious; and in his suite were Rama, the hero, and Sita, his bride, who, next to Isis herself, was the very most beautiful. And Isis arose, and took off her girdle of stars, and waved it to Sita- to Sita, mind you- waved it in glad salute. And instantly, between the marching host and the two on the golden roof, a something of night fell, and shut out the view; but it was not night- only the frown of Osiris.
“It happened the subject of his speech that moment was such as none else than they could think of; and he arose, and said, majestically, ‘Get thee home. I will do the work myself. To make a perfectly happy being I do not need thy help. Get thee gone.’ “Now Isis had eyes large as those of the white cow which in the temple eats sweet grasses from the hands of the faithful even while they say their prayers; and her eyes were the colour of the cow’s, and quite as tender. And she too arose and said, smiling as she spoke, so her look was little more than the glow of the moon in the hazy harvest-month, ‘Farewell, good my lord. You will call me presently, I know; for without me you cannot make the perfectly happy creature of which you were thinking, any more’- and she stopped to laugh, knowing well the truth of the saying- ‘any more, my lord, than you yourself can be perfectly happy without me.’ “‘We will see,’ he said.
“And she went her way, and took her needles and her chair, and on the roof of the silver palace sat watching and knitting.
“And the will of Osiris, at labour in his mighty breast, was as the sound of the mills of all the other gods grinding at once, so loud that the near stars rattled like seeds in a parched pod; and some dropped out and were lost. And while the sound kept on she waited and knit; nor lost she ever a stitch the while.
“Soon a spot appeared in the space over towards the sun; and it grew until it was as great as the moon, and then she knew a world was intended; but when, growing and growing, at last it cast her planet in the shade, all save the little point lighted by her presence, she knew how very angry he was; yet she knit away, assured that the end would be as she had said.