CHAPTER XVI
“Ev’n the Styx, which ninefold her infoldeth Hems not Ceres’ daughter in its flow; But she grasps the apple--ever holdeth Her, sad Orcus, down below.” SCHILLER, Das Ideal und das Leben.
Ever as I sang, the veil was uplifted; ever as I sang, the signs of lifegrew; till, when the eyes dawned upon me, it was with that sunrise ofsplendour which my feeble song attempted to re-imbody.
The wonder is, that I was not altogether overcome, but was able tocomplete my song as the unseen veil continued to rise. This ability camesolely from the state of mental elevation in which I found myself. Onlybecause uplifted in song, was I able to endure the blaze of the dawn.But I cannot tell whether she looked more of statue or more of woman;she seemed removed into that region of phantasy where all is intenselyvivid, but nothing clearly defined. At last, as I sang of her descendinghair, the glow of soul faded away, like a dying sunset. A lamp withinhad been extinguished, and the house of life shone blank in a wintermorn. She was a statue once more--but visible, and that was much gained.Yet the revulsion from hope and fruition was such, that, unable torestrain myself, I sprang to her, and, in defiance of the law of theplace, flung my arms around her, as if I would tear her from the graspof a visible Death, and lifted her from the pedestal down to my heart.But no sooner had her feet ceased to be in contact with the blackpedestal, than she shuddered and trembled all over; then, writhingfrom my arms, before I could tighten their hold, she sprang into thecorridor, with the reproachful cry, “You should not have touchedme!” darted behind one of the exterior pillars of the circle, anddisappeared. I followed almost as fast; but ere I could reach thepillar, the sound of a closing door, the saddest of all soundssometimes, fell on my ear; and, arriving at the spot where she hadvanished, I saw, lighted by a pale yellow lamp which hung above it,a heavy, rough door, altogether unlike any others I had seen inthe palace; for they were all of ebony, or ivory, or covered withsilver-plates, or of some odorous wood, and very ornate; whereas thisseemed of old oak, with heavy nails and iron studs. Notwithstanding theprecipitation of my pursuit, I could not help reading, in silver lettersbeneath the lamp: “NO ONE ENTERS HERE WITHOUT THE LEAVE OF THE QUEEN.” But what was the Queen to me, when I followed my white lady? I dashedthe door to the wall and sprang through. Lo! I stood on a waste windyhill. Great stones like tombstones stood all about me. No door, nopalace was to be seen. A white figure gleamed past me, wringing herhands, and crying, “Ah! you should have sung to me; you should have sungto me!” and disappeared behind one of the stones. I followed. A coldgust of wind met me from behind the stone; and when I looked, I sawnothing but a great hole in the earth, into which I could find no wayof entering. Had she fallen in? I could not tell. I must wait for thedaylight. I sat down and wept, for there was no help.
Phantastes: A Faerie Romance for Men and Women Page 19
