Seven Legends

by Gottfried Keller

But David explained to her that her notions on this subject were quite erroneous, and proved from many Bible texts, and from his own example, that dancing was most assuredly a sanctified occupation for the blessed. But what was wanted just now was an immediate decision, Yes or No, whether she wished to enter into eternal joy by way of temporal self-denial or not. If she did not, then he would go farther on; for they wanted some dancers in Heaven.

Musa stood, still doubtful and undecided, and fumbled anxiously with her finger-tips in her mouth. It seemed too hard never to dance again from that moment, all for the sake of an unknown reward.

At that David gave a signal, and suddenly the musicians struck up some bars of a dance of such unheard-of bliss and unearthliness that the girl's soul leapt in her body, and all her limbs twitched; but she could not get one of them to dance, and she noted that her body was far too heavy and stiff for that tune. Full of longing she struck her hand into the king's, and made the promise which he demanded.

Forthwith he was no more to be seen, and the angel-musicians whirred and fluttered, and crowded out and away through an open window; but, in mischievous, childish fashion, before going, they dealt the patient stone angels a sounding slap on the cheeks with their rolled-up music.

Musa went home with devout step, carrying that celestial melody in her ears; and, having laid all her dainty raiment aside, she got a coarse gown made and put it on. At the same time, she built herself a cell at the bottom of her parents' garden, where the deep shade of the trees lingered, made a scant bed of moss, and from that day onwards separated herself from all her kindred, and took up her abode there as a penitent and saint. She spent all her time in prayer, and often disciplined herself with a scourge. But her severest penance consisted in holding her limbs stiff and immovable; for whenever she heard a sound, the twitter of a bird, or the rustling of the leaves in the wind, her feet twitched, as much as to tell her they must dance.

As this involuntary twitching would not forsake her, and often seduced her to a little skip before she was aware, she caused her tender little feet to be fastened together by a light chain. Her relatives and friends marvelled day and night at the transformation, rejoiced to possess such a saint, and guarded the hermitage under the trees as the apple of their eye. Many came for her counsel and intercession. In particular, they used to bring young girls to her who were rather clumsy on their feet; for it was observed that every one whom she touched at once became light and graceful in gait.

So she spent three years in her cell; but, by the end of the third year, Musa had become almost as thin and transparent as a summer cloud. She lay continually on her bed of moss, gazed wistfully into Heaven, and was convinced that she could already see the golden sandals of the blessed, dancing and gliding about through the azure.

At last, one harsh autumn day, the tidings spread that the saint lay on her death-bed. She had taken off her dark penitential robe, and caused herself to be arrayed in bridal garments of dazzling white. So she lay with folded hands, and smilingly awaited the hour of death. The garden was all filled with devout persons, the breezes murmured, and the leaves were falling from the trees on all sides. But suddenly the sighing of the wind changed into music, which appeared to be playing in the tree-tops, and, as the people looked up, lo! all the branches were clad in fresh green, the myrtles and pomegranates put out blossom and fragrance, the earth decked itself with flowers, and a rosy glow settled upon the white, frail form of the dying saint.

That same instant, she yielded up her spirit. The chain about her feet sprang asunder with a sharp twang, Heaven opened wide all around, full of unbounded radiance, so that all could see in. Then they saw many thousands of beautiful young men and maidens in the utmost splendour, dancing circle upon circle farther than the eye could reach. A magnificent king, throned on a cloud with a special band of six small angels seated on its edge, bore down a little way towards earth, and received the form of the sainted Musa from before the eyes of all the beholders who filled the garden. They saw, too, how she sprang into the opened Heaven, and immediately danced out of sight among the jubilant, radiant circles.

That was a high feast-day in Heaven. Now the custom--to be sure, it is denied by Saint Gregory of Nyssa; but it is stoutly maintained by his namesake of Nazianza--the custom on feast-days was to invite the Nine Muses, who sat for the rest of their time in Hell, and to admit them to Heaven, that they might be of assistance. They were well entertained; but, once the feast was over, had to go back to the other place.