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Page 122
And at that very moment Gryphus entered.
He held in his hand a huge stick, his eyes glistening with
spiteful thoughts, a malignant smile played round his lips,
and the whole of his carriage, and even all his movements,
betokened bad and malicious intentions.
Cornelius heard him enter, and guessed that it was he, but
did not turn round, as he knew well that Rosa was not coming
after him.
There is nothing more galling to angry people than the
coolness of those on whom they wish to vent their spleen.
The expense being once incurred, one does not like to lose
it; one's passion is roused, and one's blood boiling, so it
would be labour lost not to have at least a nice little row.
Gryphus, therefore, on seeing that Cornelius did not stir,
tried to attract his attention by a loud --
"Umph, umph!"
Cornelius was humming between his teeth the "Hymn of
Flowers," -- a sad but very charming song, --
"We are the daughters of the secret fire
Of the fire which runs through the veins of the earth;
We are the daughters of Aurora and of the dew;
We are the daughters of the air;
We are the daughters of the water;
But we are, above all, the daughters of heaven."
This song, the placid melancholy of which was still
heightened by its calm and sweet melody, exasperated Gryphus.
He struck his stick on the stone pavement of the cell,
and called out, --
"Halloa! my warbling gentleman, don't you hear me?"
Cornelius turned round, merely saying, "Good morning," and
then began his song again: --
"Men defile us and kill us while loving us,
We hang to the earth by a thread;
This thread is our root, that is to say, our life,
But we raise on high our arms towards heaven."
"Ah, you accursed sorcerer! you are making game of me, I
believe," roared Gryphus.
Cornelius continued: --
"For heaven is our home,
Our true home, as from thence comes our soul,
As thither our soul returns, --
Our soul, that is to say, our perfume."
Gryphus went up to the prisoner and said, --
"But you don't see that I have taken means to get you under,
and to force you to confess your crimes."
"Are you mad, my dear Master Gryphus?" asked Cornelius.
And, as he now for the first time observed the frenzied
features, the flashing eyes, and foaming mouth of the old
jailer, he said, --
"Bless the man, he is more than mad, he is furious."
Gryphus flourished his stick above his head, but Van Baerle
moved not, and remained standing with his arms akimbo.
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