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The Twilight of the Gods, and Other Tales by Richard Garnett
page 16 of 312 (05%)
Desmotes' speeches with reminiscences of Plato or Marcus Aurelius, or when
her invention failed altogether. On such occasions, if objectors grew
troublesome, the Bishop would thunder, "Brethren, I smell a heresy!" and no
more was said. One minor trouble both to Prometheus and Elenko was the
affection they were naturally expected to manifest towards the carcase of
the wretched eagle, which many identified with the eagle of the Evangelist
John. Prometheus was of a forgiving disposition, but Elenko wished nothing
more ardently than that the whole aquiline race might have but one neck,
and that she might wring it. It somewhat comforted her to observe that the
eagle's plumage was growing thin, while the eagle's custodian was growing
fat.

But she had worse troubles to endure than any that eagles could occasion.
The youth of those who resorted to her and Prometheus attracted remark from
the graver members of the community. Young ladies found the precepts of the
handsome and dignified saint indispensable to their spiritual health; young
men were charmed with their purity as they came filtered through the lips
of Elenko. Is man more conceited than woman, or more confiding? Elenko
should certainly have been at ease; no temptress, however enterprising,
could well be spreading her nets for an Antony three hundred years old.
Prometheus, on the contrary, might have found cause for jealousy in many a
noble youth's unconcealed admiration of Elenko. Yet he seemed magnificently
unconscious of any cause for apprehension, while Elenko's heart swelled
till it was like to burst. She had the further satisfaction of knowing
herself the best hated woman in Caucasia, between the enmity of those of
whose admirers she had made an involuntary conquest, and of those who found
her standing between them and Prometheus. Her monopoly of Greek, she felt
sure, was her only security. Two constant attendants at Prometheus's
receptions particularly alarmed her, the Princess Miriam, niece of the
Bishop, a handsome widow accustomed to have things as she wished them; and
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