Psyche (Couperus)/Chapter 8

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CHAPTER VIII


Psyche, where do you wish to go?”

“To the opal islands, to the seas of light, to the far-off luminous streaks. . . .”

“Take a deep breath; hold fast on to my neck; twist my mane more tightly round your hand, then we will begin our journey.”

The clouds sent forth a rumbling sound of thunder; the Chimera’s hoofs shot fire; his wings expanded and shut, and his strong feathers rustled in the air.

Psyche uttered a cry.

She had ascended higher than ever before, and under them sank away the castle, the meadows, the woods, the cities, and the river; under them, like a map, lay stretched out province after province, desert after desert, the whole Kingdom of the Past. How great it was! how great it was! The frontiers receded from view again and again; far down below rose up town after town; river after river meandered along, mountain-ranges rose up one after the other, now only slightly elevated, then rising arabesquely through the plains. Then there were great waters like oceans, and Psyche saw nothing but white foaming sea. But on the other side of it began again the strand, the land, the wood, the meadows, the mountains, and so on endlessly. . . .

“How much farther away are the opal islands, the streaks of light I see in the distance, my beloved Chimera?”

“We have already passed them. . . .”

She raised her head, bent over his streaming neck, and gazed about her.

“But I do not see them any longer!” she said, astonished. “I see wood and meadow, towns and mountains. . . . Is the world, then, the same everywhere? Where are the opal islands?”

“Behind us. . . .”

“But I do not see them. . . . Have we passed them without my seeing them? O naughty Chimera, you did not tell me!”

“And where are the luminous streaks of the far-off land?” “We are going through them. . . .”

“I see nothing. . . . Below, land; around, clouds, as everywhere. But no lands of light. . . . And yet there, in the distance, very far away what is that, Chimera? I see, as it were, a purple desert on a sea of golden water, with winding borders of soft mother-of-pearl; in the desert are oases like pale emerald, palms with silvery waving tops, azure bananas; and over the purple desert trills ether of light crimson, with streaks of topaz. . . . Chimera, Chimera, what is that country? What is that beautiful country? The golden sea with its foam forms a pearly fringe along the shore; the palms wave their tops to a rhythm of aerial music, and the bananas, blue, pink, glow in the ether till all is light there. . . .! Chimera, is that the rainbow?”

“No. . . .”

“Chimera, is that the land of happiness? Is that the kingdom of happiness? Chimera, are you king there?”

“Yes, that is my country. And I am king there.”

“Are we going thither?”

“Yes.” “Do you remain there, Chimera? Do we remain there together?”

“No. . . .”

“Why not?”

“As soon as I have reached my purple land, I must go farther . . . . and then back again.”

“O Chimera, I will not go back! I will forget everything—my father, my country. I will remain there with you!”

“I cannot. . . . But now pay great attention; we are approaching my kingdom, little Psyche. Look! now we are going over the sea, now we are approaching the shore, lined with soft mother-of-pearl.”

“The sea is a dirty green, like an ordinary sea; the borders are sand. . . . You are deceiving me, Chimera! As soon as we approach, then you charm away everything that I saw beautiful.”

“Now, under us is the purple desert; under us are the oases of pale emerald.”

“You are deceiving me, Chimera! The desert glows in the strong sun, the oases fade away to nothing, like a meteor. . . . Chimera!”

“What, Psyche?”

“Where are you going?” “To the land, as far off as you can see. . . .”

“I care not about it! You always deceive me! You carry me away through endless space, and everything beautiful that I see disappears from my view. But yet . . . . there, behind the horizon, behind the sand of the desert, is a dazzling scene. . . . Are those silver grottos on a sea of light? Does the light there wave like water? Are those groves of light, cities of light, in a land of light? Tell me, Chimera, do people of light live there? Is that Paradise?”

“Yes, will you go thither?”

“Yes, oh yes, Chimera. There is happiness, the highest happiness, and there I will remain with you . . . .! ‘

“We are now approaching it. . . .”

“Let that land of light now stay, the paradise of glowing sunshine; do not charm away the land of happiness, O naughty Chimera: go to it now with me, and descend with me. . . .”

“We are there. . . .”

“Descend. . . .”

He descended.

“Have we not yet reached the ground of light?”

“Look below: can you see nothing. . . .?” She looked along his wing.

“I see nothing . . . .! It is night. . . . It is dark. . . . Chimera!!!”

“What, little Psyche?”

“Where is the land of silver light, the land of the people of light? Where is it gone?”

“Do you not see it?”

“No. . . .”

“Then it is gone. . . .”

“Whither?”

“Behind us, under us. . . .”

“Why did you not descend sooner?”

“My flight was too quick, and I could not, Psyche. . . .”

“You are deceiving me! You could have done so. You would not. . . . Now . . . . now it is night, pitch dark, starless night. . . . There is an icy coldness in the air. . . . O Chimera, take me back . . . .!!”

He turned with a swing of his powerful wings. And as he turned, the lightning broke forth and darted zigzag through the air, like smooth -bright electric swords; the black clouds parted asunder with a violent peal of thunder like the clapping of cymbals, a storm of wind arose, the rain fell down in torrents . . .!

“O Chimera, take me back!” She threw herself on to his neck; she hid her face in his mane, and through the bursting storm, whilst at every blow of his hoofs it lightened round them, he winged his way, back with her to her country: the Kingdom of the Past, inky there, in the inky night. . . .