He entered, and was surprised to find that the door was immediately locked and bolted behind him, and that two sentinels with drawn swords took their places in front of it. He found himself in a great hall, and nothing could be heard but sighing and groaning from every side. An old man with a long white beard came towards Marus, and laying his hand on the poet’s shoulder, said: ‘You will stay in this College for the remainder of your lifetime. Little food, less sleep, no rest, occasional moments of ecstasy in years of despair!’
‘I have made a mistake,’ muttered Marus, and louder: ‘I cannot stay here.’
‘You cannot escape now,’ said the old man, quite gently.
The young poet looked about him and spied a little door at the far end of the hall. ‘Yes, I can!’ he cried, and ran towards the little door, hoping to find it unlocked. It was; and, his heart flooded with relief, he swung open the door and looked out.
But which ever way he looked there was nothing to be seen but vast space let with innumerable stars.
THE LONELY SOUL
JOURNEYING, in a dream, through the Portals of the Dead, I encountered an Angel, who promised to be my guide in the Strange Lands.
We saw innumerable cities, gardens, palaces, castles, all beautiful, but in a thousand and one different ways. And moving here, there and everywhere, were happy souls clad in multi-coloured, shimmering garments.
‘It makes my heart rejoice,’ I said to the Angel, ‘to see all these happy souls. But tell me, what brain devised, what hand built, these bewildering beautiful places?’
‘They were fashioned by the souls themselves, a long time ago,’ replied the Angel enigmatically. A little later, my companion said: ‘I will show you something different!’ And together, we flew away from the cities and castles, until we came to a great, flat plain or desert, on which there was neither building nor tree, nor even rock. ‘Surely this is the most desolate place in the Universe and the Seven Heavens,’ I said, as we still flew over the great plain.