“Not now....”
“When, then?”
“Later....”
“When is that?”
“Farewell.”
“O Chimera, Chimera...!”
The horse had already spread out his wings broad. He was ascending. But Psyche suddenly threw both her arms round his neck and hung on to his mane.
“Let me go, little princess!” cried the horse. “I ascend quickly, and you will fall, to be dashed to pieces on the rock! Loose me!”
And slowly he ascended....
Psyche was afraid; she let go her arms; she became dizzy, fell against the pinnacle, and bruised one of her wings. That pained her ... but she heeded it not; the horse was already high in the air, and she followed his track with her eyes....