“Then how didst thou pass the weary hours?”
“I would sometimes sing a hymn to the immortal mother of us all. The melody of hymns in the sea of silence, gentle lady, flashes away like bright sparkles from a gem.”
“The gods are sometimes deaf to hymns and prayers, my child.”
“Ah, beautiful prayers are never lost, my lady. Yonder where the sun sets are immeasurable seas. Are they not bordered by a land of promise? Ah, O lady, the whole world is an ear. Our petitions may seem to fall like stones into dark waters, but, believe me, they do reach the divinities. Let us pray to Juno this night that sweet Peace, like a new-born child, may come to our minds.”
“Speak on, my child. Thy words are gentle. They soothe my soul.”
“From the window of my cell,” continued Psyche, “so intently have I gazed upon the peaceful Campagna that mine eyes have become intoxicated. The Campagna seemed the bottom of a sea, the purple mountains a shore; ’twas an oblivion of peace.”
Agrippina closed her eyes while Psyche was speaking. From time to time she would move her lips and form silent words.
“Ay, my lady,” continued Psyche, “but I would awaken from that revery. My life, my grief, would again burden me.”
“Ah, dear Psyche, life is, after all, but a dream between two slumbers. Mine has been a fantasy of terror.”
“Look, yonder at the provision boat, floating along the water like a sea-gull!” suddenly exclaimed Psyche.