Psyche Part 4

"I believe so," murmured Psyche, embarra.s.sed.

"She is still a child, prince--forgive her!" repeated the king.

"Will your Majesty not permit me to ask for the hand and heart of your third daughter, the princess?"

"Certainly, prince; but she is still so young.... If she leaves me I shall be very sad. But if she loves you, then I will give her up to you, for then she will be happy...."

"Tell me, Psyche, will you be my wife?"

Psyche blushed exceedingly. Her naked limbs blushed, her wings blushed.

"Prince," said she hesitatingly and looked bashfully at her father, "you do me much honour. But my sisters are more beautiful and wiser than I. And my father would miss me if I went with you to the kingdom of the Present."

"But tell me, Psyche, what conditions do you impose upon me?"

Psyche hesitated. She was about to exclaim joyfully: "Catch me the Chimera, bind him in a meadow to graze, and give me power over him, that I may mount his back and fly through the air as I like."

But she durst not before the whole court and her father. And so she only stammered: "None, prince...."

"Could you love me?"

"I don't know, prince...."

Psyche was shy. She kept blus.h.i.+ng, and all at once began to tremble and weep.

And she looked round to the king, fled to his arms, hid her face in his beard and sobbed.

"Prince Eros," said the king, "forgive her. You see she is a child. Seek for Emeralda's Jewel, or seek for Astra the Gla.s.s which will bring to view the confines of the universe; but leave me my youngest child."

Then the prince bowed. An indescribable sadness rose in his soul, like a sea. And pale he stammered, "I obey your Majesty."

Then the king descended from his throne and embraced the prince. And whilst the fanfares sounded, he put his arm through the arm of Eros, took Psyche by the hand, and conducted his guest to the banquet, the princesses following, surrounded by the whole court.

CHAPTER VII

For days had Psyche watched in vain, and all hope died out of her heart.

But one windy morning--the thick white clouds were speeding through the air--she saw the desire of her heart again. Far away appeared a cloud, but as it drew nearer it became a horse: it was the Chimera.

She beckoned to it, and the Chimera came down.

"What do you want, little Psyche?"

She clasped her hands imploringly. "Take me with you...."

"You will become dizzy...."

"No, no...."

He descended, stamping on the basalt rock; the terrace shook, sparks flew up, and the steam of his breath shot out in clouds.

"Take me with you," she implored.

"Where do you wish to go?"

"To the islands of opal and silver."

"They are too far away."

"Take me, then, nearer to them; take me with you where you will."

"Are you not afraid?"

"No."

"Will you hold fast to my neck?"

"Yes, oh yes!"

"Come, then...."

She uttered a cry of joy. He bent his knees, and she got up with a beating, thumping heart. Between his flaming wings, on his broad, broad back, she sat almost as safe as in a nest of silver feathers.

"Trust not to my wings," he warned her; "I move them at every stroke. They open and shut, open and shut. Hold fast on to my neck. Clasp my mane. If you are not frightened and do not become giddy and sick, you will not fall, however high I go. Do you dare, Psyche?"

"Yes."

She fastened his mane round her waist, as if it were strong rope of golden flax. She put her arms round his neck.

"I am ready," she said courageously.

He ascended, very slowly, with his broad wings. Under him, under her, the terrace sank away.

She shut her eyes, she held her breath, and the blood left her heart. Under her the castle sank away.

"Stop!" she implored. "I am dying...."

"I thought so, Psyche. You are much too weak. You cannot go up with me...."

She opened her eyes slightly. She sat on his back in the silver down, where his quills clave to his light-gold loins. And round her, circles of light revolved, one after the other, and made her dizzy.

"Descend!" she implored. "Oh, descend! I cannot endure it. I have no breath; I am dying."