Just then a magnificent burst of triumphal music rolled through the Temple,--the music of some mighty instrument, organ-like in sound, but several tones deeper than the grandest organ ever made, mingled with children's voices singing. The King seated himself on a cushioned chair directly in front of the Silver Veil, . . Sah-luma took a place at his right hand, giving Theos a low bench close beside him, while the various distinguished personages who had attended Zephoranim disposed themselves indifferently wherever they could find standing-room, only keeping as near to their monarch as they were able to do in the extreme pressure of so vast a congregation.
For now every available inch of space was occupied,--as far as eye could see there were rows upon rows of men and white-veiled women, . . Theos imagined there must have been more then five thousand people present. On went the huge pulsations of melody, surging through the incense-laden air like waves thudding incessantly on a rocky shore, and presently out of a side archway near the Sanctuary-steps came with slow and gliding noiselessness a band of priests, walking two by two, and carrying branches of palm. These were all clad in purple and crowned with ivy-wreaths, --they marched sedately, keeping their eyes lowered, while their lips moved constantly, as though they muttered inaudible incantations. Waving their palm-boughs to and fro, they paced along past the King and down the centre aisle of the Temple,--then turning, they came back again to the lowest step of the Shrine and there they all prostrated themselves, while the children who stood near the incense-burners flung fresh perfumes on the glowing embers and chanted the following recitative: "O Nagaya, great, everlasting and terrible! Thou who dost wind thy coils of wisdom into the heart! Thou, whose eyes, waking and sleeping, do behold all things! Thou who art the joy of the Sun and the Master of Virgins! Hear us, we beseech thee, when we call upon thy name!"
Their young treble voices were clear and piercing, and pealed up to the dome to fall again like the drops of distinct round melody from a lark's singing-throat,--and when they ceased there came a short impressive pause. The Silver Veil quivered from end to end as though swayed by a faint wind, and the flaming Arch above turned from pale blue to a strange shimmering green. Then, in mellow unison, the kneeling priests intoned: "O thou who givest words of power to the dumb mouth of the soul in Hades; hear us, Nagaya! O thou who openest the grave and givest peace to the heart; plead for us, Nagaya! O thou who art companion of the Sun and controller of the East and of the West; comfort us, Nagaya!