Phantastes, A Faerie Romance

"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 life

grew; till, when the eyes dawned upon me, it was with that sunrise of

splendour which my feeble song attempted to re-imbody.

The wonder is, that I was not altogether overcome, but was able to

complete my song as the unseen veil continued to rise. This ability came

solely from the state of mental elevation in which I found myself. Only

because 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 intensely

vivid, but nothing clearly defined. At last, as I sang of her descending

hair, the glow of soul faded away, like a dying sunset. A lamp within

had been extinguished, and the house of life shone blank in a winter

morn. She was a statue once more--but visible, and that was much gained.

Yet the revulsion from hope and fruition was such, that, unable to

restrain myself, I sprang to her, and, in defiance of the law of the

place, flung my arms around her, as if I would tear her from the grasp

of 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 black

pedestal, than she shuddered and trembled all over; then, writhing

from my arms, before I could tighten their hold, she sprang into the

corridor, with the reproachful cry, "You should not have touched

me!" darted behind one of the exterior pillars of the circle, and

disappeared. I followed almost as fast; but ere I could reach the

pillar, the sound of a closing door, the saddest of all sounds

sometimes, fell on my ear; and, arriving at the spot where she had

vanished, I saw, lighted by a pale yellow lamp which hung above it,

a heavy, rough door, altogether unlike any others I had seen in

the palace; for they were all of ebony, or ivory, or covered with

silver-plates, or of some odorous wood, and very ornate; whereas this

seemed of old oak, with heavy nails and iron studs. Notwithstanding the

precipitation of my pursuit, I could not help reading, in silver letters

beneath the lamp:

"NO ONE ENTERS HERE WITHOUT THE LEAVE OF THE QUEEN."