None had noticed Spring’s farewell or Summer’s coming.
The birds sang and the flies buzzed. The gnats danced up and down in the air, till the swallow broke up the ball; the flowers smelt sweet, the frogs croaked, the stag belled in the glade. There was no end to the universal gladness.
And, while the mountains were still turning green wherever Spring had set his foot, right up to Winter’s eternal snows on the peaks, the Prince of Summer stood for a time and surveyed the kingdom which Spring had quitted.
His form sent forth so sunny a radiance that it grew hotter in the valley than it ever had been. His eyes shone, his purple cloak beamed, the golden girdle around his loins blazed like fire, the red rose in his girdle glowed.
When he had stood a while, he raised his hand, as though he would bid them be still. But none heeded him. The siskin hopped in the thicket with his sweetheart, gave her loving looks and pecked at her with his beak. The fish sported merrily in the water, the meadow displayed all its glories and the wood stood lost in green dreams.
The Prince of Summer smiled and raised his hand once more. When this had no effect, he knitted his brows and his face darkened.
And, at that moment, a veil passed over the sun. From east and west, thick clouds came slowly over the hills, thicker and blacker than the valley had yet seen and with strange, thick edges. From the clouds rolled the thunder, distant and muffled, but such that none could doubt its power.
The clouds came nearer and it grew ever darker, but no less hot for that. Inside the wood, it was as though it were evening. The wind took fright and ran away behind the hills and subsided. The air was singularly close and heavy. The leaves of the trees hung slack, as though they were sick, and the flowers hastened to shut their petals. No one knew what became of the flies, but they were gone. The little brown mice forgot their amorous nonsense and sat in their parlours and squeaked. The stag took shelter behind the thickest bushes; the croak of the frogs stuck in their throats and they went down to the bottom as if Winter were at the door. The birds looked round under the leafage and stared with frightened eyes.
And the Prince of Summer was no longer all light and sunshine. Gradually, as the clouds closed up, the radiance that flowed from him was extinguished. At last, he stood at the end of the valley like a mighty black cloud in a warrior’s form.
Then there suddenly came a humming over the hills till every breath of wind had left them altogether. The trees bent low in great dismay; the river rose and leapt away like a horse that rears and shies.