Allegories; Fantasy fiction; Historical fiction; Middle Ages -- Fiction
So Anaïtis put up Caliburn, and carried it from the thaumaturgist's
unpretentious residence to her fine palace in the old twilit wood:
and afterward, as everybody knows, she gave this sword to King
Arthur, who with its aid rose to be hailed as one of the Nine
Worthies of the World. So did the husband of Guenevere win for
himself eternal fame with that which Jurgen flung away.
26.
In Time's Hour-Glass
"Well, well!" said Jurgen, when he had taken off all that foolish
ironmongery, and had made himself comfortable in his shirt; "well,
beyond doubt, the situation is awkward. I was content enough in
Cocaigne, and it is unfair that I should be thus ousted. Still, a
sensible person will manage to be content anywhere. But whither,
pray, am I expected to go?"
"Into whatever land you may elect, my dear," said Anaïtis, fondly.
"That much at least I can manage for you: and the interpretation of
your legend can be arranged afterward."
"But I grow tired of all the countries I have ever seen, dear
Anaïtis, and in my time I have visited nearly all the lands that are
known to men."
"That too can be arranged: and you can go instead into one of the
countries which are desired by men. Indeed there are a number of
such realms which no man has ever visited except in dreams, so that
your choice is wide."
"But how am I to make a choice without having seen any of these
countries? It is not fair to be expecting me to do anything of the
sort."
"Why, I will show them to you," Anaïtis replied.
The two of them then went together into a small blue chamber, the
walls of which were ornamented with gold stars placed helter-skelter.
The room was entirely empty save for an hour-glass near twice the
height of a man.
"It is Time's own glass," said Anaïtis, "which was left in my
keeping when Time went to sleep."
Anaïtis opened a little door of carved crystal that was in the lower
half of the hour-glass, just above the fallen sands. With her
finger-tips she touched the sand that was in Time's hour-glass, and
in the sand she drew a triangle with equal sides, she who was
strangely gifted and perverse. Then she drew just such another
figure so that the tip of it penetrated the first triangle. The sand
began to smoulder there, and vapors rose into the upper part of the
hour-glass, and Jurgen saw that all the sand in Time's hour-glass
was kindled by a magic generated by the contact of these two
triangles. And in the vapors a picture formed.
"I see a land of woods and rivers, Anaïtis. A very old fellow,
regally crowned, lies asleep under an ash-tree, guarded by a
watchman who has more arms and hands than Jigsbyed."
"It is Atlantis you behold, and the sleeping of ancient Time--Time,
to whom this glass belongs,--while Briareus watches."
"Time sleeps quite naked, Anaïtis, and, though it is a delicate
matter to talk about, I notice he has met with a deplorable
accident."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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