-
The old one took a pot of powder then,
And brushed it in their eyes with touches light.
Then afterwards they all went out again;
Their eyes, enchanted, now were glowing bright.
Bearslayer sought for Spidala at last,
But still her form he could not recognize.
The pot of powder he had noted fast,
And with its contents smeared himself his eyes.-
It was as though a veil fell from his sight,
And now he saw unblinded, without whims:
Still in the cauldron, from the meal that night,
There lay the scraps of little children's limbs!
And where he thought a sausage to have seen,
Were foul black snakes, boiled squirming in their gore.
In that red chamber, where he first had been,
Of copper pure were ceiling, walls and floor.
And on the block the axe was copper too,
Although its use he did not understand.-
Of silver pure the second room on view,
Both chairs and tables, lanterns, all at hand.
What seemed like stoves were silver chests, he saw,
In one gold jewels, the other precious pearls.
Still further, gazing through the final door,
He saw the ceiling glittered gold in swirls,
Of gold the beds between the pillars tall.
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