He had pledged himself to do so. But was that reason enough? All those people in those lost centuries had pledged themselves to unknown purposes, lost and forgotten causes, which now meant nothing to anyone, whether they had kept their promises and lived with honor, or whether they had died forsworn and forgotten. In the fullness of Time, would it matter to anyone whether or not he succeeded, or failed, or whether he had ever lived or died?
Dizzied, swaying with the awareness of Time and the lost, he pressed his aching head against the cold of the stone. Why had he ever come here? If the door had been open, he might have run away.
He was no longer aware of how long it had been, but he was recalled to the present by the light of a lamp and the sound of an opening door, and the two priest-guides entered the room.
"Prince Tamino," said the first, whom he thought of as "his" guide, "have you resolved, then, to persevere, whatever may come?"
Tamino drew a long breath, sensing that at this point his resolution was being tested. For a moment it seemed to matter no longer. Still, he had made a promise and he would keep it.
"I have," he said quietly.
"So be it; the Ordeals shall begin. For the first; you shall wait here till sunrise, or until I myself come to take you elsewhere. It is forbidden in this place to speak to any woman. I warn you, as well, that although you may see Pamina, you may neither speak with her, directly or indirectly, nor may you touch her. Do you understand me? Whatever happens—not a word or a touch. Otherwise—" his voice deepened with menace—"she shall be lost to you forever. Will you obey us in this?"
Tamino swallowed hard. It all seemed foolish to him. But who was he to judge these priests? They must know what they were about. "I will."
"May the gods grant you keep to your resolve, my son," said the old priest. "Give me your hand."
The other priest, a short, bald, nearsighted man with a small and scruffy beard, bent over Papageno. "And you, my son," he said. "Will you endure the Ordeals, even though they should lead you to the very edge of death, and fight against evil wherever you should find it?"
"Well," said Papageno, waggling his feathery crest in an indecisive way, "I'm not a fighting man. And I'm not very brave. Maybe we'd better forget the whole thing."
"Will you work hard for wisdom and enlightenment?"
"Me? What for?" Papageno demanded. He then swallowed and said, "Excuse me, I mean, no, thank you very much."
"Tell me," said the priest, and Tamino was surprised at the gentleness and patience in his voice, "what do you want out of life, my son?"
Papageno stood up, moving restlessly around the room. "Well, I like to have enough to eat and drink, and a comfortable place to sleep. I don't mind working hard, but I don't have any wish for more than that. But I'll tell you one more thing I want. I would like a wife, a friend, a mate; I'm tired of living all alone. And that, good and reverend father, is all I really want out of life. I haven't any wish for wisdom, or enlightenment, or any of those things. Oh, please, I don't mean any offense, I'm sure they are all very good things, but to tell the truth, I don't think they're for the likes of me."
"But," said the priest, "Sarastro has already chosen a wife for you; she is very much like you, even to the color of her feathers. But you will never see her unless you persevere in the Ordeals."
"I have a feeling I'd do better to stay single," said Papageno, but he looked up curiously at the priest. "She has feathers, too?"
"Exactly like yours."
"I certainly would like to see her," mused Papageno. "I've never known anyone just like me. Is she young?"
"Young and pretty."
"And you say I can't even see her unless I undertake the Ordeals—"
"Absolutely not."
"Well, in that case—" a great clap of thunder interrupted his words and Papageno clapped his hands over his ears and cried out in dismay, "I'd better stay single!" Then he asked, "What is her name?"
"Papagena."
"I really would like to see her," Papageno said, but his teeth were chattering. "Just out of curiosity."
"You may see her," said the priest gently, "but you may not speak to her. Do you think you can control yourself enough to keep a bridle on your tongue, and speak to no woman here?"
"Well, it wouldn't be the first time I've had a bridle on my tongue," said Papageno. "I'll try."
"Excellent," said the priest. "Give me your hand." He took Papageno's hand in a firm and friendly grip. "Remember: it is forbidden to speak to a woman here."
"I'll do my best."
"That is all we ask," the priest said, and withdrew.
Tamino sat on a stone bench, hearing the sandals of the priests on the stone floor. One of them said softly to the other, and it seemed to Tamino that he could almost see the headshake accompanying the words, "Sarastro himself could not make an Adept of that one!"
"How do you know that is intended?" asked the voice of Tamino's guide. "There has been no Adept from among the Halflings since the Great Dragon. Yet he may endure the Ordeals as well as is demanded of him; it isn't for us to say."
So they are talking of Papageno, Tamino thought, half ashamed of himself for his relief. Had he really believed they were talking about him? Did that mean they were confident of his own ability to face the Ordeals without doubt? This first one seemed almost idiotic; what difference could it make, after all, whether or not he spoke to a man or a woman?
He supposed they had their rules, and he would do his best to obey them, whether they made sense to him or not. Whatever their purposes, he was sure that he could no more understand them than Papageno could understand Tamino's ideas and designs.
In any case there were no women here, and it seemed unlikely that any could get into this crypt, guarded as it was by the priests. For that matter he couldn't imagine anyone coming here unless he had to. Tamino was tired of looking at skulls and reminders of death and mortality, time past and ruins of past nations. He stretched out on one of the stone benches, deciding that since there was nothing to see and no one to talk to, he would try to sleep for a little. They had told him not to talk, but they had not said that he must stay awake.
Afterward, he never knew whether or not he had actually dozed a little. He was roused by a terrified screech from Papageno, and a glare like lightning— but it was not lightning. It seemed that the stone floor suddenly gaped wide; torches flared and suddenly the three ladies of the Starqueen stood in the room.
"Prince Tamino," cried Disa. "The Queen is angry with you! You have fallen under the evil spell of Sar-astro, and you will surely be punished by the furies of her wrath! What have you to say for yourself, you who swore to our Queen that you would rescue her daughter?"
Tamino opened his mouth, ready with swift protest, self-justification; but before the first syllable escaped his lips, he remembered the old priest:
It is forbidden to speak to women here
So this was the reason for the warning. He wondered if the Starqueen's ladies were actually here, or whether it was some trick of the priests to make him believe they were here, simply part of the Ordeals. He was again pleased with himself for apparently seeing through their tricks, and turned away from them and said nothing.
"What! Have you nothing to say for yourself, Tamino? What will you say to the Queen when she demands her daughter?" Zeshi cried. "You were sent forth and armed with magical weapons, and you sit here listening to the counsel of a trickster!"
Tamino did not speak. After a moment they whirled on Papageno.
"Papageno, what do you think the Queen will say when she hears that you could have rescued Pamina, that the princess was actually in your hands, and you turned her over to Sarastro's minions?"
"I didn't exactly have any choice, Lady Disa—" Papageno began.
"Be silent, Papageno! Remember your vow!"
"If you listen to his advice, you are lost, Papageno! But you are the faithful servant of the Starqueen, and she has sent us here to bring you back," said the one T
amino had heard him call Kamala.
"Look here, I never wanted to come here at all," Papageno said, "but you made me come with the prince, and now I think I'll just stay here, after all."
"Papageno—" Tamino said, moving toward him; perhaps he could help the little Halfling to remember his promise. "Be silent, friend."
Zeshi demanded, "Papageno, why would you stay here? What do you think Sarastro can give you?"
Papageno said, "Sarastro has promised me a wife."
"Oh, if it is a woman you want," Zeshi said, and her voice had a soft, cooing quality. She came to Papageno and wound her arms round his neck; her slender, long-fmgered hands caressed him, smoothing down the feathers along his head. She rubbed his face against hers. Papageno stood motionless, and Tamino thought of a bird he had once seen fascinated by a snake. Zeshi's slim, graceful body pressed against Papageno's, and the bird-halfling began to sway against hers, to move against her own. She smiled and made a soft purring sound.
Abruptly Papageno thrust her away with both hands. He said, "This isn't the way you treated me in the Starqueen's house! I think this is a trick, Lady Zeshi." He retreated, hastily, and Zeshi hissed with rage. Kamala raised her spear, menacing him, but Papageno stood his ground, almost shouting.
"I don't think you can hurt me here! I think if you could hurt me here, Lady Kamala, you'd have done it already!"
There was a fearful thunderclap; the torches went out, and the place where the three ladies stood was bare and empty.
Papageno collapsed to the stone floor, moaning.
"Oh, woe, oh woe!"
Tamino reflected that the little Halfling had broken his vow; he had not been silent, he had driven them away with words. Yet it had been successful, after all. Were the Ordeals different for Papageno than for himself?
"Papageno, what are you doing?"
From the darkness of the vaulted room came a small, tremulous, determined voice.
"I am lying in a faint!"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
PAMINA lay in the silence, staring out through the drawn-back curtains at the sky filled with stars—her mother's realm. She had never questioned her mother before this. The knowledge that Sar-astro was her father had filled her, first with disbelief and dread, and then with confusion.
He was not the ogre she had been brought up to believe him. He was not a monster at all. Living as she did in the residence of the Starqueen, she had never once thought of wanting or needing a father, save in the purely physical sense. But now that she had seen and spoken with Sarastro, she decided that if she must have a father, Sarastro was certainly the one she would have chosen. The question beat in her head: why had her mother lied to her about Sarastro, why had she chosen to portray him to his daughter as an evil sorcerer?
Perhaps it was only that she loved me so much, Pamina thought. She did not wish to share me with anyone, not even with my father. But try as she might she could not make herself believe it was only that.
Now she was in Sarastro's house and she was committed to undertake the Ordeals—why, she did not know, but Sarastro had told her that it was a necessary preliminary to all that he had in store for her; the study of wisdom, her marriage to Tamino. She thought, shyly, of Tamino, and the moment of their brief touch, the meeting of their eyes. She had never seen him before. She felt as if she had known him for a hundred thousand years and a hundred thousand lifetimes.
It was enough that Tamino was obliged to undertake the Ordeals; she was willing and glad to share them with him. But she had no idea what they would entail. The priestess who had given her a ritual bath, taken away her fine silken garments and left her with a coarse, white, shapeless tunic which, she said, was a neophyte's robe, had told her that they were different for everyone. So that whatever trials she must face, they would be different trials than for Tamino. She was sorry for that. She would have liked to face whatever it was that he must face.
Yet, when she had questioned about when they would begin, the priestess had told her nothing; only that everything would come in its time, and that for the moment all she need do was to obey. Questioned further, she said gently:
"Princess Pamina, the nature of the Ordeals must be unknown, or there would be no virtue in facing them. Remember only this: nothing will be demanded of you except that you behave always in accordance with your own best self." Then she told her to go to bed and sleep, embraced her in a sisterly way—no, Pamina thought, none of my own sisters were ever so kindly to me, for I always knew that they were jealous of me as Mother's heir—and left her alone in the darkened room; she took the lamp with her when she left.
Obediently, Pamina tried to compose herself for sleep. But the face of Tamino was in her mind, and the brief moment when their hands had touched. She should not be thinking of Tamino now, but of the Ordeals. Would they be very frightening, would they involve enduring pain, or tests of courage or endurance? She had never been taught any of these things; she was sure she would find herself inadequate. After a time she fell into an uneasy doze.
She was wakened by a footfall and a shadow falling across her bed. At first she thought it must be one of the priestesses, come to awaken her for the first of the Ordeals. But this was no woman's face or form in the shadows; a stocky, wiry man's body bent over her, and in a moment of horrified revulsion she made out the form of Monostatos.
His hands gripped her shoulders; his face pressed down on hers, his lips covering hers so that she could not breathe, in a long, violent kiss. Pamina struggled, trying weakly to tear his hands away, but his lips clung; the weight of his body came down over hers, and she realized, with horror, what he was trying to do. She struggled, trying to bring her knee up into his groin; but he was enormously stronger than she was. She managed to twist her body aside, gasping for breath as she freed her mouth.
"Sarastro will have you flayed alive for this!"
"Are you so sure, my little one? Perhaps, afterward, you will not be so dissatisfied. In any case, Pamina, I have already had one beating for your sake, and I am going to have more than a kiss for my pains this time! Why not make it easy for both of us?"
"No!" she gasped, struggling, resolved that she would be killed, if she must, before she was ravished by this— this creature! But however she struggled, he held both her hands easily with one of his own hands, like a cord of leather, while with his free hand he fought to tear away the coverlets and the white novice's robe.
She screamed, "Help! Help! Rape! Murder!" But she knew that she had been left alone, as candidates for the Ordeals were always left alone, her servants having been sent far out of range of hearing. Would no one come and help her? She would rather let him kill her. If die she must, she would then die defending herself from this repulsive thing in the shape of a man. But her throat hurt with screaming, and her heart pounded in her chest. She knew her struggles were growing weaker, and thought she would vomit, as he tore the white robe from her, and paused to look down, gloating.
There was a sudden flash of lightning, dazzling her eyes, and Monostatos was ripped off her as if by the very lightning itself. She heard him cry out, a wordless shriek of pain and fear, and she saw him crouching on the floor in the lightning glare. Over him, in the cold light, was the face of the Starqueen.
"Mother!" she cried.
The Starqueen's face was pallid and cold beneath the high ritual headdress of owl feathers; her eyes glittered like the distant stars themselves. Pamina flung herself, sobbing, into her mother's arms, and felt them tighten briefly, possessively, around her. Then she felt she must have imagined it, for her mother's voice was cold and detached as ever.
"Has he hurt you, Pamina? Or only frightened you?"
Shaking, Pamina pulled herself upright. The white robe was torn from her throat to her knees. Her wrists felt sore, and her mouth was bruised; she felt sick and defiled at the touch of his lips, at his gloating eyes on her bare body. But she was not seriously hurt.
"Only—only frightened," she said, and heard her voice
shaking.
The Starqueen looked, frowning, at the torn white linen robe. "That is not fit for you to wear, my love," she said, and though the words were gentle, Pamina flinched from the scorn in them. "Find yourself a whole garment and cover yourself decently. I have many things to say to you. Even in the house of Sarastro, though," she added with biting contempt, "I had believed you would be better guarded than thisl"
Pamina started to say it was not the fault of Sarastro, who had, after all, had Monostatos flogged for offering unwelcome advances to her; but under her mother's eyes thought better of it. In one of the chests, she found a loose silken robe, and pulled it about her body. She felt better clothed; even under her mother's eyes, in the torn linen she knew herself naked and vulnerable.
"Now come here and listen to me," said the Star-queen, "for there is little time. You can see"—she moved her head, the faintest possible gesture of disdain, toward the crouched figure on the floor—"what will become of you here."
Pamina opened her mouth in protest, surely this was none of Sarastro's doing, but suddenly, under her mother's eyes, she was no longer certain. Perhaps this had been the first of the Ordeals destined for her? Obediently, as she had done in her childhood, she sat down on the edge of the narrow bed, looking up at her mother with her hands clasped in her lap.
"Where is the young man I sent to rescue you?"
"He awaits the Ordeals at the hands of Sarastro's priesthood."
"It is worse than I thought," said the Starqueen grimly. "If Sarastro and the priesthood were to find me here, they would surely put me to death, for I have no power in this place."
"I will not let them hurt you," Pamina said staunchly. "No one here will harm me, Mother, and if I come with you, they will not dare to touch you either." She swallowed hard. "Mother, let us escape together from this place." Kind as Sarastro had been, now, at the feet of the Starqueen, she felt like a little girl again; her mother would protect and care for her, but first they must leave Sarastro's house.
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