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Page 11
Not even vanity could persuade me that they were laughing at anything
more grotesque than myself, so, putting a bold face on matters so
humiliating, I sauntered as carelessly and loftily as I dared in their
direction. My courage seemed to abash them a little; they gathered
back their petticoats like birds about to fly. But at hint of a
titter, they all three began gaily laughing again till their eyes
sparkled brighter than ever, and their cheeks seemed shadows of the
roses above their heads.
"Ladies," I began gravely, "I have left my horse, that is very old and
very thirsty, above in the wood. Is there any path I may discover by
which she may reach the water without offence?"
"Is she very old?" said one.
"She is very old," I said.
"But is she very thirsty?" said another.
"She is perhaps very thirsty," I said.
"Perhaps!" cried they all.
"Because, ladies," I replied, "being by nature of a timid tongue, and
compelled to say something, and having nothing apt to say, I
remembered my old Rosinante above in the wood."
They glanced each at each, and glanced again at me.
"But there is no path down that is not steep," said the fairest of the
three.
"There never was a path, not even, we fear, for a traveller on foot,"
continued the second.
I waited in silence a moment. "Forgive me, then," I said; "I will
offend no longer."
But this seemed far from their design.
"You see, being come," began the fairest again, "Julia thinks Fortune
must have brought you. Are we not all between Fortune's finger and
thumb?"
"If pinching is to prove anything," said the other.
"And Fortune is fickle, too," added Julia--"that's early wisdom; but
not quite so fickle as you would wish to show her. Here we have sat in
these mortal glades ever since our poor Herrick died. And here it
seems we are like to sit till he rises again. It is all so--dubious.
But since Electra has invited you to rest awhile, will you not really
rest? There is shade as deep, and fruit to refresh you, in a little
arbour yonder. Perhaps even Anthea will dip out of her weeping awhile
if she hears that ... a poor old thirsty horse is tethered in the
woods."
They rose up together with a prolonged rustling as of a peacock
displaying his plumes; and I found myself irretrievably their captive.
Moreover, even if they were but sylphs and fantasies of the morning,
they were fantasies lovely as even their master had portrayed; while
the dells through which they led me were green and deep and white and
golden with buds.
It was now, I suppose, about the middle of the morning, yet though the
sun was high, his heat was that of dawn. Dawn lingered in the shadows,
as snow when winter is over and gone, and dwelt among the sunbeams.
Dew lay heavy on the grass, as the dainty heels of my captresses
testified, yet they trod lightly upon daisies wide-open to the blue
sky, while daffadowndillies stooped in a silence broken only by their
laughter.
We came presently to a little stone summerhouse or arbour,
enclustered with leaves and flowers of ivy and convolvulus, wherein
two great dishes of cherries stood and bowls of honeycomb and
sillabub.
There we sat down; but they kept me close too in the midst of the
arbour, where perhaps I was not so ill-content to be as I should like
to profess. How then could I else than bob for cherries as often as I
dared, and prove my wit to conceal my hunger?
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