Then she looked round. She recognised the sea-shore with its many bays, the shore of the Kingdom of the Past. There, on the opal-blue horizon, loomed a town of minarets and pinnacles, of cupolas and obelisks, surrounded with golden walls.
That was the capital of the kingdom. Thither she would repair.
There, proud and peaceful, still and cool, she would say to Emeralda, her powerful sister,
That her Jewel was vanity. That the gem did not exist.
Chapter XXIV
When Psyche approached the capital, she heard at the gates the excited cries of festive merry-makers. Outside the gates flocked the noisy crowd, dressed in all the colours of the rainbow, and bedecked with flowers, singing and dancing, but not knowing why. Everywhere was bustle and commotion; on the roadside sat hundreds of hucksters, and women extolling their wares—glasses with jewels and fruit, cooling drinks, dresses and flowers. In a shrill key they praised their wares; they spread out their stuffs with much ado, and offered the people flowers, and poured them out wine, and held up strings of glass pearls and cheap necklaces of coins.
Psyche was naked, and she veiled herself in her hair; she spread over the marks on her shoulders her golden mantle of hair, and as many of the dancing girls, some half naked and others quite, danced round, hand in hand, people thought that she was naked, only because she was so fair—Psyche, so pearl-white in her golden hair. She was not wont to be ashamed of nakedness, which was once her right, her privilege as a princess; but now under the eyes of the people she blushed, and walked with downcast eyes. Then she turned to a saleswoman and asked:
“What is the feast for?”
“Where do you come from? ‘What is the feast for!’ Don’t you know anything about it?”