Phantastes: A Faerie Romance for Men and WomenMacDonald, George
Science
Phantastes: A Faerie Romance for Men and Women
MacDonald, George
Fantasy fiction
With a wail of sorrow the lady rose to her feet. “Ah! he loves me not;
he loves me not even as I love him; and alas! I care more for his love
than even for the freedom I ask.”
“I will not wait to be willing,” cried Cosmo; and sprang to the corner
where the great sword stood.
Meantime it had grown very dark; only the embers cast a red glow
through the room. He seized the sword by the steel scabbard, and stood
before the mirror; but as he heaved a great blow at it with the heavy
pommel, the blade slipped half-way out of the scabbard, and the pommel
struck the wall above the mirror. At that moment, a terrible clap of
thunder seemed to burst in the very room beside them; and ere Cosmo
could repeat the blow, he fell senseless on the hearth. When he came to
himself, he found that the lady and the mirror had both disappeared. He
was seized with a brain fever, which kept him to his couch for weeks.
When he recovered his reason, he began to think what could have become
of the mirror. For the lady, he hoped she had found her way back as she
came; but as the mirror involved her fate with its own, he was more
immediately anxious about that. He could not think she had carried it
away. It was much too heavy, even if it had not been too firmly fixed
in the wall, for her to remove it. Then again, he remembered the
thunder; which made him believe that it was not the lightning, but some
other blow that had struck him down. He concluded that, either by
supernatural agency, he having exposed himself to the vengeance of the
demons in leaving the circle of safety, or in some other mode, the
mirror had probably found its way back to its former owner; and,
horrible to think of, might have been by this time once more disposed
of, delivering up the lady into the power of another man; who, if he
used his power no worse than he himself had done, might yet give Cosmo
abundant cause to curse the selfish indecision which prevented him from
shattering the mirror at once. Indeed, to think that she whom he loved,
and who had prayed to him for freedom, should be still at the mercy, in
some degree, of the possessor of the mirror, and was at least exposed
to his constant observation, was in itself enough to madden a chary
lover.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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