- end_line
- 12782
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:09.931Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 12725
- text
- ever hovering, seldom lights; and flights of gay canaries passed, like
jonquils, winged.
But now, from out half-hidden bowers of clematis, there issued swarms
of wasps, which flying wide, settled on all the buds.
And, fifty nymphs preceding, who now follows from those bowers, with
gliding, artful steps:—the very snares of love!—Hautia. A gorgeous
amaryllis in her hand; Circe-flowers in her ears; her girdle tied with
vervain.
She came by privet hedges, drooping; downcast honey-suckles; she trod
on pinks and pansies, blue-bells, heath, and lilies. She glided on: her
crescent brow calm as the moon, when most it works its evil influences.
Her eye was fathomless.
But the same mysterious, evil-boding gaze was there, which long before
had haunted me in Odo, ere Yillah fled.—Queen Hautia the incognito!
Then two wild currents met, and dashed me into foam.
“Yillah! Yillah!—tell me, queen!” But she stood motionless; radiant,
and scentless: a dahlia on its stalk. “Where? Where?”
“Is not thy voyage now ended?—Take flowers! Damsels, give him wine to
drink. After his weary hunt, be the wanderer happy.”
I dashed aside their cups, and flowers; still rang the vale with
Yillah!
“Taji! did I know her fate, naught would I now disclose; my heralds
pledged their queen to naught. Thou but comest here to supplant thy
mourner’s night-shade, with marriage roses. Damsels! give him wreaths;
crowd round him; press him with your cups!”
Once more I spilled their wine, and tore their garlands. Is not that,
the evil eye that long ago did haunt me? and thou, the Hautia who hast
followed me, and wooed, and mocked, and tempted me, through all this
long, long voyage? I swear! thou knowest all.”
“I am Hautia. Thou hast come at last. Crown him with your flowers!
Drown him in your wine! To all questions, Taji! I am mute.—Away!—
damsels dance; reel round him; round and round!”
Then, their feet made music on the rippling grass, like thousand leaves
of lilies on a lake. And, gliding nearer, Hautia welcomed Media; and
said, “Your comrade here is sad:—be ye gay. Ho, wine!—I pledge ye,
guests!”
Then, marking all, I thought to seem what I was not, that I might learn
at last the thing I sought.
So, three cups in hand I held; drank wine, and laughed; and half-way
met Queen Hautia’s blandishments.
- title
- Chunk 2