"But as we shaped, there passed some of the essence of our pride; in
giving will we had given power, perforce, to exercise that will for
good or for evil, to speak or to be silent, to tell us what we wished
of that which poured into it through the seven orbs or to withhold
that knowledge itself; and in forging it from the immortal energies we
had endowed it with their indifference; open to all consciousness it
held within it the pole of utter joy and the pole of utter woe with
all the arc that lies between; all the ecstasies of the countless
worlds and suns and all their sorrows; all that ye symbolize as gods
and all ye symbolize as devils--not negativing each other, for there
is no such thing as negation, but holding them together, balancing
them, encompassing them, pole upon pole!"
So _this_ was the explanation of the entwined emotions of joy and terror
that had changed so appallingly Throckmartin's face and the faces of
all the Dweller's slaves!
The handmaiden's eyes grew bright, alert, again; the brooding passed
from her face; the golden voice that had been so deep found its own
familiar pitch.
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