"Mother, mother, do you not know your son?" cried Pentaur deeply moved.

She turned to him again: "It is his voice," she said. "It is he."

She went up to Pentaur, clung to him, clasped her arm around his neck as he bent over her, then kissing him fondly: "The Gods will bless you!" she said once more. She tore herself from him and threw herself down by the body of Paaker, as if she had done him some injustice and robbed him of his rights.

Thus she remained, speechless and motionless, till they carried her back to her boat, there she lay down, and refused to take any nourishment; from time to time she whispered "Poor Paaker!" She no longer repelled Pentaur, for she did not again recognize him, and before he left her she had followed the rough-natured son of her adoption to the other world.




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