Psyche Part 21

CHAPTER XXIV

When Psyche approached the capital, she heard at the gates the excited cries of festive merry-makers. Outside the gates flocked the noisy crowd, dressed in all the colours of the rainbow, and bedecked with flowers, singing and dancing, but not knowing why. Everywhere was bustle and commotion; on the roadside sat hundreds of hucksters, and women extolling their wares--gla.s.ses with jewels and fruit, cooling drinks, dresses and flowers. In a shrill key they praised their wares; they spread out their stuffs with much ado, and offered the people flowers, and poured them out wine, and held up strings of gla.s.s pearls and cheap necklaces of coins.

Psyche was naked, and she veiled herself in her hair; she spread over the marks on her shoulders her golden mantle of hair, and as many of the dancing girls, some half naked and others quite, danced round, hand in hand, people thought that she was naked, only because she was so fair--Psyche, so pearl-white in her golden hair. She was not wont to be ashamed of nakedness, which was once her right, her privilege as a princess; but now under the eyes of the people she blushed, and walked with downcast eyes. Then she turned to a saleswoman and asked:

"What is the feast for?"

"Where do you come from? 'What is the feast for!' Don't you know anything about it?"

"I come from the other side of the sea...."

"'What is the feast for!' It is the great festival: it is the Festival, the Jubilee-festival, of Emeralda. It is the Triumphal Procession of the Queen!!"

.... "It is the Triumphal Procession of the Queen!" resounded on all sides. They danced and sang:

.... "It is the Triumphal Procession of the Queen!"

They were drunk with joy, dizzy from strange joy; but Psyche suddenly saw that they were deadly pale and frightened, deadly pale under paint and flowers, and frightened whilst they danced round in a ring.

"I have no dress for the occasion; give me that veil of golden gauze!" said Psyche to the saleswoman.

"That is very dear!"

"I will pay you for it with this pearl."

.... "With that pearl! Are you a princess, then!"

Psyche then took the veil, and she bound it round her loins, just as she used to do before.

"I will give you a wreath of fresh roses as well!" said the woman, pleased, and put the flowers on her head.

She smiled, and it suddenly occurred to her that she was decked out with those flowers as a victim for the altar; that all the people who were making merry and dancing were bedecked as victims. She went on. Through the round gold gate she entered the city; the squares were seen in the distance, connected with very broad streets; square palaces of marble and bronze, of jasper and malachite, round cupolas and finely pointed minarets, glistered in the sun as if conjured up by magic. They stretched far away, and right behind the blue mountains rose the royal castle, a Babel of pinnacles and towers innumerable, almost indiscernible in the distance, with square ramparts and walls, and lofty summits lost in the rising mist. And along the squares, over palaces, and on the minarets, hung the thick festoons of flowers, as though the towns were decked out for an offering. Close up to the castle, Babel of pinnacles, the festoons of flowers seemed to reach. And in the squares the dancers threw flowers into the air, and it seemed as if white roses were raining down from heaven. To the sound of tabour and cymbals, the people danced madly round, and ever was heard the same cry:

"It is the Triumphal Procession of the Queen!"

Then Psyche, in the secret depths of her heart, saw clearly and indubitably what it all meant. As she went along with the dense crowds of noisy, shouting merry-makers, she saw all the people in the town trembling with fear, which made the blood congeal in their veins.

Their eyes, through fear, were ready to start out of their sockets; their teeth chattered; their limbs, bedecked with flowers, trembled; the sun was s.h.i.+ning, but everyone was s.h.i.+vering with cold.

But no one spoke of his trembling, and they danced, madly drunk with foolish joy, and they kept shouting the same thing:

"It is the Triumphal Procession of the Queen!!!"

CHAPTER XXV

A great commotion was going on in the direction of the castle. In that direction all eyes were turned, and the dancing girls forgot to dance. From fear, the crowd stood still, as if petrified, and forgot to conceal the anxiety of their minds. The palaces seemed to tremble; the air-atoms quivered audibly. Something dreadful was about to happen.

The royal castle shone with a strange l.u.s.tre; a sun seemed to send forth a halo; an ominous aureola appeared in the distance. The fearful rays of the Sun of Consternation outshone the day, outshone the sun: from their centre, they penetrated through houses and people.

And everything shone, softened by the glow of piercing sunbeams. The rays quivered everywhere in the air, and the aureola filled the world.

The cause of consternation came rattling on with the rapidity of an arrow.

All hearts stood still, all breath was taken away, all dancing was stopped, all rejoicing ceased.

From the castle, over the triumphal way, a triumphal chariot rattled along with the speed of an arrow. On the top, a living jewel, stood Emeralda, and guided the four and twenty steeds. It was her splendour and her aureola which appeared in the air. It was her rays which caused the houses to s.h.i.+ne with splendour and pierced the people with flashes. She stood immovable, clad in the strength of precious stones, in a tunic of sapphire, in a robe of brilliants, with deep flounces of gems and white cameos; her mantle was like a bell, with folds of purple carbuncle, lined with enamelled ermine. From her crown of beryl, from her heart of ruby, the rays shot forth, shone out her fear-inspiring aureola and streamed over the town and in the air, eclipsing the sun, which turned pale. Her eyes of emerald, stars in her opal face, chalcedonic, looked inexorable, and her bosom of precious stones heaved not. Only her heart of ruby beat regularly, and then her l.u.s.tre grew alternately dim and bright....

She stood immovable and guided her horses, her four and twenty foaming stallions, rearing greys, which drew her triumphal car, like a broad enamelled sh.e.l.l on innumerable wheels, on cutting wheels so numerous, that they seemed to run into one another--a turning confusion of spokes.

The dazzling, fear-inspiring chariot rattled on with the rapidity of an arrow. And suddenly, awaking from their stupefaction, the people madly danced again and shouted the same jubilant cry. The tabours sounded, the white roses rained down, and before the queen the people prostrated themselves and paved her path with their bodies. The grey stallions foamed and reared; they came on, they came on, they trampled over the first bodies--men and women, girls and children, dressed for a festival and bedecked with flowers.... Over her people rode Emeralda; the innumerable wheels rattled, a confusion of spokes, revolving, cutting furrows in flesh and blood, reducing blood and human flesh to a muddy ma.s.s. But farther up they danced, farther up they sang, before casting themselves down for her Triumph....

Then Emeralda, looking over her triumphal way, saw, with the keen glance of her black carbuncle pupil, a little form, naked and fair, who lifted up her small, child's hand.

And fiercer and fiercer gleamed her heart of ruby, for she had recognised the form.

And the desire flamed up in her: the thirst for more power and to become like a G.o.d.

Emeralda recognised Psyche. And she reined in her twelve pair of horses, she drove them more slowly, and under the less quickly revolving wheels she heard the jubilant cry of the dying people. The blood dropped from the wheels, but the roses rained down and covered the horrible sight. On the b.l.o.o.d.y, muddy ma.s.s, the roses rained down, white, from the balconies of the palaces.

Emeralda stopped.

Under her, death was silent.

Around, the town was silent. She alone reigned and shot out her terrible fan of rays, which scorched the houses and pierced the air.

And before her, at a little distance, stood Psyche, proud, pearl-white, crowned with roses, in a veil of gold.

And the silent crowd recognised in her the third princess of the kingdom.

"Psyche!" said Emeralda, and her voice sounded loud through the town from the focus of her rays, "have you come to bring me the unutterable Jewel, the Gem of Power, the Bestower of Universal Power, the sacred Stone of Mysticism? Have you found the Mystery of the G.o.dhead, and,

"--Do you rule with me the Universe and G.o.d?"

The town shuddered and quivered. The people were stupefied.

The air-atoms trembled audibly.