“Then thou shouldst love her still. Yet, not so, since love is very mortal.”
“I love her still,” he answered, “although she died.”
“Why, how is that? Thou saidst she was immortal.”
“Perchance she only seemed to die; perchance she changed. At least I lost her, and what I lost I seek, and have sought this many a year.”
“Why dost thou seek her in my Mountain, Leo Vincey?”
“Because a vision led me to ask counsel of its Oracle. I am come hither to learn tidings of my lost love, since here alone these may be found.”
“And thou, Holly, didst thou also love an immortal woman whose immortality, it seems, must bow to death?”
“Priestess,” I answered, “I am sworn to this quest, and where my foster-son goes I follow. He follows beauty that is dead——”
“And thou dost follow him. Therefore both of you follow beauty as men have ever done, being blind and mad.”
“Nay,” I answered, “if they were blind, beauty would be naught to them who could not see it, and if they were mad, they would not know it when it was seen. Knowledge and vision belong to the wise, O Hes.”