The World's Desire by Andrew Lang and H. Rider Haggard

  Now the Wanderer is in his chamber, waiting for the hour to set forthto find the Golden Helen. His heart is alight, and strange dreams ofthe past go before his eyes, and strange visions of long love to be. Hisheart burns like a lamp in the blackness, and by that light he sees allthe days of his life that have been, and all the wars that he has won,and all the seas that he has sailed. And now he knows that these thingsare dreams indeed, illusions of the sense, for there is but one thingtrue in the life of men, and that is Love; there is but one thingperfect, the beauty which is Love's robe; there is but one thing whichall men seek and are born to find at last, the heart of the GoldenHelen, the World's Desire, that is peace and joy and rest.

  He binds his armour on him, for foes may lurk in darkness, and takes theBow of Eurytus, and the grey bolts of death; for perchance the fight isnot yet done, he must cleave his way to joy. Then he combs his locks andsets the golden helm upon them, and, praying to the Gods who hear not,he passes from his chamber.

  Now the chamber opened into a great hall of pillars. As was his customwhen he went alone by night, the Wanderer glanced warily down the duskyhall, but he might see little because of the shadows. Nevertheless, themoonlight poured into the centre of the hall from the clerestories inthe roof, and lay there shining white as water beneath black banks ofreeds. Again the Wanderer glanced with keen, quick eyes, for there was asense in his heart that he was no more alone in the hall, though whetherit were man or ghost, or, perchance, one of the immortal Gods who lookedon him, he might not tell. Now it seemed to him that he saw a shape ofwhite moving far away in the shadow. Then he grasped the black bow andlaid hand upon his quiver so that the shafts rattled.

  Now it would seem that the shape in the shadow heard the rattling of theshafts, or perchance saw the moonlight gleam upon the Wanderer's goldenharness--at the least, it drew near till it came to the edge of thepool of light. There it paused as a bather pauses ere she steps into thefountain. The Wanderer paused also, wondering what the shape might be.Half was he minded to try it with an arrow from the bow, but he held hishand and watched.

  And as he watched, the white shape glided into the space of moonlight,and he saw that it was the form of a woman draped in white, and thatabout her shone a gleaming girdle, and in the girdle gems which sparkledlike the eyes of a snake. Tall was the shape and lovely as a statue ofAphrodite; but who or what it was he might not tell, for the head wasbent and the face hidden.

  Awhile the shape stood thus, and as it stood, the Wanderer passedtowards it, marvelling much, till he also stood in the pool of moonlightthat shimmered on his golden mail. Then suddenly the shape lifted itsface so that the light fell full on it, and stretched out its armstowards him, and lo! the face was the face of the Argive Helen--of herwhom he went forth to seek. He looked upon its beauty, he looked uponthe eyes of blue, upon the golden hair, upon the shining arms; thenslowly, very slowly, and in silence--for he could find no words--theWanderer drew near.

  She did not move nor speak. So still she stood that scarce she seemed tobreathe. Only the shining eyes of her snake-girdle glittered like livingthings. Again he stopped fearfully, for he held that this was surely amocking ghost which stood before him, but still she neither moved norspoke.

  Then at length he found his tongue and spoke:

  "Lady," he whispered, "is it indeed thou, is it Argive Helen whom I lookupon, or is it, perchance, a ghost sent by Queen Persephone from theHouse of Hades to make a mock of me?"

  Now the voice of Helen answered him in sweet tones and low:

  "Did I not tell thee, Odysseus of Ithaca, did I not tell thee, yesterdayin the halls of Hathor, after thou hadst overcome the ghosts, thatto-night we should be wed? Wherefore, then, dost thou deem me of thenumber of the bodiless?"

  The Wanderer hearkened. The voice was the voice of Helen, the eyes werethe eyes of Helen, and yet his heart feared guile.

  "So did Argive Helen tell me of a truth, Lady, but this she said, that Ishould find her by the pylon of the temple, and lead her thence to bemy bride. Thither I go but now to seek her. But if thou art Helen, howcomest thou to these Palace halls? And where, Lady, is that Red Starwhich should gleam upon thy breast, that Star which weeps out the bloodof men?"

  "No more doth the red dew fall from the Star that was set upon mybreast, Odysseus, for now that thou hast won me men die no more for mybeauty's sake. Gone is the Star of War; and see, Wisdom rings me round,the symbol of the Deathless Snake that signifies love eternal. Thou dostask how I came hither, I, who am immortal and a daughter of the Gods?Seek not to know, Odysseus, for where Fate puts it in my mind to be,there do the Gods bear me. Wouldst thou, then, that I leave thee,Odysseus?"

  "Last of all things do I desire this," he answered, for now his wisdomwent a-wandering; now he forgot the words of Aphrodite, warning him thatthe Helen might be known by one thing only, the Red Star on her breast,whence falls the blood of men; and he no more doubted but that she wasthe Golden Helen.

  Then she who wore the Helen's shape stretched out her arms and smiled sosweetly that the Wanderer knew nothing any more, save that she drew himto her.

  Slowly she glided before him, ever smiling, and where she went hefollowed, as men follow beauty in a dream. She led him through hallsand corridors, past the sculptured statues of the Gods, past man-headedsphinxes, and pictures of long-dead kings.

  And as she goes, once more it seems to her that she hears them whispereach to each the horror of her sin and the sorrow that shall be. Butnaught she heeds who ever leads him on, and naught he hears who everfollows after, till at length, though he knows it not, they stand in thebed-chamber of the Queen, and by Pharaoh's golden bed.

  Then once more she speaks:

  "Odysseus of Ithaca, whom I have loved from the beginning, and whom Ishall love till all deaths are done, before thee stands that Lovelinesswhich the Gods predestined to thy arms. Now take thou thy Bride; butfirst lay thy hand upon this golden Snake, that rings me round, the newbridal gift of the Gods, and swear thy marriage oath, which may not bebroken. Swear thus, Odysseus: 'I love thee, Woman or Immortal, and theealone, and by whatever name thou art called, and in whatever shape thougoest, to thee I will cleave, and to thee alone, till the day of thepassing of Time. I will forgive thy sins, I will soothe thy sorrows,I will suffer none to come betwixt thee and me. This I swear to thee,Woman or Immortal, who dost stand before me. I swear it to thee, Woman,for now and for ever, for here and hereafter, in whatever shape thougoest on the earth, by whatever name thou art known among men.'

  "Swear thou thus, Odysseus of Ithaca, Laertes' son, or leave me and gothy ways!"

  "Great is the oath," quoth the Wanderer; for though now he feared noguile, yet his crafty heart liked it ill.

  "Choose, and choose swiftly," she answered. "Swear the oath, or leave meand never see me more!"

  "Leave thee I will not, and cannot if I would," he said. "Lady, Iswear!" And he laid his hand upon the Snake that ringed her round, andswore the dreadful oath. Yea, he forgot the words of the Goddess, andthe words of Helen, and he swore by the Snake who should have sworn bythe Star. By the immortal Gods he swore it, by the Symbol of the Snake,and by the Beauty of his Bride. And as he swore the eyes of the Serpentsparkled, and the eyes of her who wore the beauty of Helen shone, andfaintly the black bow of Eurytus thrilled, forboding Death and War.

  But little the Wanderer thought on guile or War or Death, for the kissof her whom he deemed the Golden Helen was on his lips, and he went upinto the golden bed of Meriamun.