is quivering with hope and ether and the Future!
“Psyche!” sounded his voice again like bronze, “be strong? Take heart! Descend! Do penance! Seek . . . .! Once more you will see me. . . .”
“Once more!”
“Be strong, take heart, do penance!”
He ascended, whilst Psyche remained kneeling. When he was high in the air, there came a peal of thunder, as if the heavens would burst asunder. The sky was dark, but lit up by the lightning. In the black sky, in the lightning flame, rose fearfully the three hundred towers. And the thunder-claps rumbled on, one after the other, as if the Past were perishing in the last day. . . .
With a joyful cry, Psyche hastened along the terraces, the battlements, ramparts, entered the castle, and went down the steps. Lower and lower she descended, lower than the vaults; and as she passed them, she threw a kiss in the direction where the old king lay buried. . . . She descended still lower, and yet she heard the thunder pealing above, and the castle seemed to tremble to its very foundations.
