“Will you always stay with me, little Psyche? You are safe here, are you not? and the world is so great, the world is so wicked. The world is full of temptation and mystery. Winged horses soar through the air; gigantic sphinxes lurk in the deserts; devilish fauns roam through the forests. . . . In the world, tears are shed, which form brooks, and in the world people give away their noblest right for the lowest pleasure. . . . Stay with me, Psyche, never wander too far away, for under our castle glows the Netherworld! . . . . And life is like a princess, a cruel princess with a heart of stone. . . .”
Of precious stone, like Emeralda, thought Psyche to herself. Who rides in triumph with her victorious chariot over the tenderest and dearest, and presses them stone-dead into the deepest furrows of the earth. . . .
“Oh, Psyche, little Psyche, promise me always to stay here in this high and safe castle: always to stay with your father!”
She did not understand him.
His eyes, very large and animated, looked over her into space, with inexpressible sadness. Then she longed to console him, and threw her white arms round his neck; she hid herself, as
