The Happy Hypocrite: A Fairy Tale for Tired Men — John Shaqi
The Happy Hypocrite: A Fairy Tale for Tired MenBeerbohm, Max, Sir
Science
The Happy Hypocrite: A Fairy Tale for Tired Men
Beerbohm, Max, Sir
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; Love stories; Masks -- Fiction
"Of no less a person, I do assure you. When Jupiter, his father, made
him lord of the day, Apollo craved that he might sometimes see the
doings of mankind in the hours of night time. Jupiter granted so
reasonable a request, and when next Apollo had passed over the sky and
hidden in the sea, and darkness had fallen on all the world, he raised
his head above the waters that he might watch the doings of mankind in
the hours of night time. But," Mr. Aeneas added, with a smile, "his
bright countenance made light all the darkness. Men rose from their
couches or from their revels, wondering that day was so soon come, and
went to their work. And Apollo sank weeping into the sea. 'Surely,' he
cried, 'it is a bitter thing that I alone, of all the gods, may not
watch the world in the hours of night time. For in those hours, as I am
told, men are even as gods are. They spill the wine and are wreathed
with roses. Their daughters dance in the light of torches. They laugh to
the sound of flutes. On their long couches they lie down at last, and
sleep comes to kiss their eyelids. None of these things may I see.
Wherefore the brightness of my beauty is even as a curse to me, and I
would put it from me.' And as he wept, Vulcan said to him, 'I am not the
least cunning of the gods, nor the least pitiful. Do not weep, for I
will give you that which shall end your sorrow. Nor need you put from
you the brightness of your beauty.' And Vulcan made a mask of dull
silver and fastened it across his brother's face. And that night, thus
masked, the sun-god rose from the sea and watched the doings of mankind
in the night time. Nor any longer were men abashed by his bright beauty,
for it was hidden by the mask of silver. Those whom he had so often seen
haggard over their daily tasks, he saw feasting now and wreathed with
red roses. He heard them laugh to the sound of flutes, as their
daughters danced in the red light of torches. And when at length they
lay down upon their soft couches and sleep kissed their eyelids, he sank
back into the sea and hid his mask under a little rock in the bed of the
sea. Nor have men ever known that Apollo watches them often in the night
time, but fancied it to be some pale goddess."
"I myself have always thought it was Diana," said Lord George Hell.
"An error, my Lord!" said Mr. Aeneas, with a smile. "_Ecce signum!_" And
he tapped the mask of dull silver.
"Strange!" said his Lordship. "And pray how comes it that Apollo has
ordered of _you_ this new mask?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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