Night had already fallen when they reached the fortress. Ubaldo ordered a beautiful fire and the best wines he possessed. It was the first time the hermit seemed at his ease. He took careful note of a sword and other arms hanging on the wall that reflected the flashes of light, and then silently contemplated the knight.
“You,” he said, “are happy. And I behold your strong and gallant figure with true fear and deep respect. You live unmoved by either joy or grief, and you dominate life with serene tranquillity, like a sailor who knows how to use the tiller and doesn’t let himself become confused by the marvellous song of the sirens. Next to you I’ve often felt like an idiotic coward or a madman. There are people drunk on life. How terrible it is to become sober again!”
Ubaldo, who did not want to miss his chance to take advantage of his guest’s unusual behavior, vigorously insisted he reveal the story of his life. The hermit was pensive.
“If you promise me,” he said finally, “to keep what I tell you a secret forever and allow me to omit the names, I’ll do it.”
The knight raised his hand to signal his oath and immediately summoned his wife, whose silence he vouched for, so that along with him she could hear the story they so anxiously awaited.
She appeared with one child in her arms and leading another by the hand. She was tall, with a handsome figure, and in the flower of her youth, silent and as sweet as the dawn, her own beauty reflected in her charming children. The guest became deeply confused when he saw her. He abruptly opened the window and stared pensively at the darkened forest for a few seconds. When he’d calmed down, he came back to them, and they all sat down around the fire. He began to speak in the following way:
“The tepid autumn sun was rising over the blue mist that covered the valleys near my castle. The music had faded, the festivities were coming to an end, and the lively guests were leaving. It was a farewell celebration that I was offering to my dearest friend, who that day, along with his followers, had put the Holy Cross on his arms to join the Christian army in the conquest of the Holy Land. Ever since our earliest youth, that undertaking had been our only goal, our only desire, and the only hope of our adolescent dreams. Even today, it is with indescribable nostalgia that I remember those times as tranquil.
“I wandered for a long time until I finally found I was lost in an unknown part of the mountains. With my hawk on my arm, I rode pensively across a marvelous meadow caressed by the oblique rays of the setting sun. The autumn clouds moved quickly in the blue air, and above the mountains could be heard the farewell songs of the migratory birds.
“Suddenly, the sound of several hunting horns that seemed to be answering each other from the peaks reached my ears. Some voices were accompanying them in a song. Until then, no melody had ever moved me in such a fashion, and even today, I remember a few stanzas that reached me, carried by the wind:
High above, in yellow and red waves
The birds fly away.
My thoughts wander without consolation,
Oh woe is me! They find no refuge!
And the dark complaints of the horns
Pierce the solitary heart.
Do you see the outline of the blue mountains
As it rises in the distance over the forests
And the streams that in the silent valley
Go their way whispering?
Clouds, streams, noisy birds:
All join together there in the distance.
My golden curls wave
And my young body sweetly flowers.
Beauty soon succumbs;
Like the splendor of summer that fades,
Youth should bow its flowers.
All the horns fall silent.
Slim arms to embrace,
And red mouth for the sweet kiss,
The refuge of the white breast,
And the warm greeting of love,
The echo of the hunting horns offers you.
Come sweet love, before they fall silent.
“I was dazed by that melody which had moved my heart. My falcon, as soon as it heard the first notes, became unsettled and then disappeared into the air, never to return. Nevertheless, I was unable to resist; I went on listening to the seductive melody that, confusedly, sometimes went away while others, carried by the wind, seemed to draw near.
“Finally, I left the forest and saw, right before me, a majestic castle on the crest of a mountain. Stretching from above down to the forest smiled a most beautiful garden, replete with all colors, surrounding the castle like a magic ring. All the trees and hedges, afire with the violent hues of autumn, seemed purple, the yellows gold and the reds flame. Tall asters, the last stars of summer, glittered there in multiple flashes. The setting sun poured its last rays on that delightful summit, reflecting its dazzling flames on the windows and fountains.
“I realized then that the sound of the hunting horns I’d just heard came from this garden. I was shocked to see, amid such magnificence, that under the arbors was the damsel of my dreams, who was strolling and singing that same melody. When she saw me, she fell silent, but the hunting horns continued to blow. Handsome boys dressed in silk came to me and helped me dismount.
“I passed through the light, golden archway at the entrance and went directly to the garden esplanade where my beloved was standing. I fell at her feet, overcome by so much beauty. She was wearing a dark red dress; long transparent veils covered her golden curls, which were held in place by a diadem of precious stones above her forehead.
“She lovingly helped me to my feet, and in a voice broken by love and grief, said to me: ‘How I love you, handsome and unfortunate young man! I’ve loved you for a long time, and when autumn begins its mysterious festival, my desire awakens with new and irresistible force. Poor wretch! How have you come to the sphere of my song? Leave me and go away.’
“When I heard those words, I was seized by a great tremor and begged her to speak to me, to explain. But she did not answer, and we silently paced through the garden, side by side.
“Meanwhile, it had grown dark, and the damsel’s mien became grave and majestic. ‘You must know,’ she said, ‘that your childhood friend, who this very day bade you farewell, is a traitor. I’ve been forced to betroth myself to him. Only out of jealousy did he hide his love from you. He has not departed for Palestine: tomorrow he will come to take me to a distant castle where I shall be hidden from the gaze of others forever. Now I must leave. We shall only see each other again if he dies.’
“Having said that, she kissed me on the lips and disappeared into the dark galleries. A gem from her diadem froze my gaze, and her kiss shook my veins with a trembling delight.
“Terrified, I pondered the horrifying words of her farewell, which had poured a poison into my blood. Pensive, I wandered for a long time along solitary paths. At last, weary, I stretched out on the stone stairs at the castle gate. The hunting horns were still blaring, and I fell asleep, buffeted by strange thoughts.
“When I opened my eyes, the sun had already risen. The doors and windows of the castle were closed, and the garden was silent. In that solitude, with the new and beautiful colors of the morning, there awoke in my heart the image of my beloved and all the enchantment of yesterday’s sunset. And I felt happy knowing myself to be loved and reciprocated. At times, when I recalled those terrible words, I wanted to flee far from there, but her kiss still burned on my lips, so I could not do it.
“The air was hot, almost suffocating, as if the summer wanted to retrace its steps. I wandered through the neighboring forest in order to distract myself with hunting. Suddenly I saw on a treetop a bird whose plumage was more marvelous than any I’d ever seen. Just when I pulled the string back and was ready to shoot the arrow, it flew to another tree. I pursued it avidly, but the bird continued to jump from treetop to treetop, while its golden wings reflected the sunlight.
“Finally, I came into a narrow valley flanked by sheer cliffs. The cool breezes did not reach there, and everything was still as
green and flowering as in summer. From the center of the valley arose an intoxicating song. Surprised, I parted the branches of the tangled shrubbery, and my eyes were blinded by the enchantment that revealed itself before me.
“Amid the high rocks, there was a still lake surrounded by ivy and reeds. Many maidens were bathing their beautiful bodies in the warm water. Among them was my most beautiful beloved, without veils. Silently, while the others sang, she stared fixedly into the water that covered her ankles, as if she were enchanted and absorbed in her own beauty reflected in the water. I stood there for a time, staring from a distance, immobile and trembling. Suddenly the beautiful group left the water, and I scurried away so I wouldn’t be discovered.
“I took refuge in the deepest part of the forest to calm the flames that consumed my heart. But the further I fled, the more sharply the vision of that youthful body danced before my eyes.
“Night caught me in the forest. The sky had darkened, and a huge storm appeared over the mountains. We shall only see each other again if he dies, I repeated to myself, while I fled as if chased by ghosts.
“At times, I seemed to hear on my flank the din of horses, but I was fleeing from all human eyes and any noise that seemed to come near. Finally, on reaching a ridge, I saw my beloved’s castle in the distance. The hunting horns echoed as usual, the splendor of the lights shone like a tenuous moonlight through the windows, magically illuminating the surrounding trees and flowers, while everything else in the area struggled in the storm and the darkness.
“Finally, almost losing control of my senses, I scaled a high rock with a noisy creek running beneath it. From the top I could make out a dark shadow, silent and motionless, which, seated on a stone, seemed also to be made of stone. Ragged clouds fled through the sky. A blood-colored moon appeared for an instant, and I then recognized my friend, my beloved’s fiancé.
“As soon as he saw me, he hastily got to his feet. I trembled from head to foot. Then I saw him grasp his sword. Enraged, I threw myself at him and seized him. We fought for a few seconds, and then I threw him from the crag.
“Suddenly the silence became terrible. Only the creek roared more loudly, as if it were burying my past in the din of its turbulent waters.
“I ran quickly from that horrible place. It was then I seemed to hear behind me high-pitched, perverse laughter coming from the treetops. At the same time, in the confusion of my senses, I thought I saw the bird I had chased a short while before. Filled with horror, I rushed through the forest and leapt over that garden world. I banged on the castle door with all my strength: ‘Let me in!’ I shouted, out of my senses, ‘open the door, I’ve killed the brother of my heart! Now you are mine, both on earth and in hell!’
“The door opened, and the damsel, more beautiful than ever, threw herself against my breast, crushed by so many torments, and covered me with burning kisses.
“I shall not speak of the magnificence of the halls, of the fragrance of exotic and marvelous flowers among which sang beautiful maidens, of the torrents of light and music, of the savage and ineffable pleasure I tasted in the arms of the damsel.”
At that point, the hermit stopped speaking. Outside, we could hear a strange song. Just a few notes: now it resembled a human voice, now the high tone of a clarinet, when the wind blew over the distant mountains, shriveling the heart.
“Be calm,” said the knight. “We’ve been used to that for quite some time now. They say that in the neighboring forest there exists a sorcery. Very often, on Autumn nights, that music reaches our castle. But to the same degree as it draws near, it drifts away, and we don’t worry about it.”
Nevertheless, a tremor shook Ubaldo’s heart, and only with effort was he able to control himself. We could no longer hear the music. The guest, still seated, fell silent, lost in thought. His spirit wandered far. After a long pause, he recovered himself and went back to his story, though not with the same calm as before.
“I observed that from time to time the damsel, amid all that splendor, would fall into an invincible melancholy whenever she saw from the castle that Autumn was going to bid us farewell. But all she needed was a deep sleep to calm down, and her marvelous face, the garden, and the entire setting seemed to me, at morning, fresh and as if newly created.
“Once, as I stood next to her at a window, I noted that my beloved was sadder and more silent than usual. Outside, in the garden, the winter wind was playing with the fallen leaves. I noticed that as she stared at the landscape she became pale and trembled. All her ladies had gone; that day the hunting-horn songs were echoing in an infinite distance, until finally they fell silent. My beloved’s eyes had lost their brilliance, almost to the point of being extinguished. The sun hid behind the mountains and illuminated the garden and the valleys with its final resplendence. Suddenly, the damsel clutched me in her arms and began a strange song I had not heard until then and which echoed throughout the room with melancholy notes. I listened, astonished. It was as if that melody were pushing me downward together with the setting sun. My eyes closed involuntarily. I fell asleep and dreamed.
“When I awoke, it was night. A great silence ruled throughout the castle, and the moon shone very brightly. My beloved was sleeping at my side on a silk bed. I observed her with astonishment: she was pale, as if dead. Her curls fell in disorder over her face and breast, as if tangled by the wind. Everything else around me remained the same, just as it was when I fell asleep. Nevertheless, it seemed to me that a great deal of time had passed. I went over to the open window. Everything outside seemed different from what it had always been. The noise of the trees was mysterious. Suddenly, next to the castle wall, I saw two men muttering obscure phrases, bowing to each other and leaning toward each other as if they wanted to weave a spiderweb. I understood nothing of what the two men were saying: I only heard them speak my name. I again looked at the image of the damsel, who was even paler in the bright moonlight. She looked like a stone statue, beautiful, but as cold and immobile as death. On her placid bosom shone a stone similar to the basilisks eye, and her mouth was strangely disfigured.
“Then I was possessed by a terror the likes of which I’d never felt. I fled the chamber and sped through the deserted halls, where all splendor had been extinguished. As I left the castle, I saw the two strangers stop what they were doing and stand stock-still, rigid and silent as two statues. At the foot of the mountain there was a solitary lake on whose shore some maidens in tunics as white as snow were marvelously singing and at the same time seemed to amuse themselves by stretching strange spiderwebs out over the meadow in the moonlight. That vision and that song increased my terror. I quickly leapt the garden wall. The clouds were scudding rapidly across the sky, the leaves on the trees were whispering behind my back, and I ran breathlessly.
“Little by little, the night became warmer and quieter; the nightingales were singing in the bushes. Below, in the depth of the valley, human voices could be heard, and old, forgotten memories came to light again in my extinguished heart, while before me, over the mountains, a beautiful spring dawn appeared.
“‘What is all this? Where am I?’ I shouted in astonishment. I did not know what had happened to me. The fall and winter had gone by. Spring once again illuminated the world. My God, where have I been for so long?
“Finally, I reached the top of the last mountain. A splendid sun was rising. A tremor of pleasure rippled through the earth; the rushing streams and castles shone; tranquil and lighthearted men were preparing for their daily tasks; myriad larks jubilantly soared. I fell to my knees and wept bitterly for my lost life.
“I did not understand and still do not understand how it all happened. I resolved not to return to the joyful and innocent world with this heart full of sin and unrestrained anxiety. I decided to bury myself alive in a desolate place, invoke the forgiveness of heaven, and not to see the houses of men ever again until I’d washed away with tears of sincere repentance all my sins—all there was in my past that was clear to me.
> “Thus I lived for an entire year until I met you. Every day I raised up ardent prayers, and at times I thought I’d overcome everything and found the grace of God, but it was a false illusion that quickly faded. Only when the Autumn spread its marvelous net of colors over the hills and valleys did very familiar songs come again from the forest. They penetrated my solitude, and dark voices within me responded to them. The sound of the bells from the distant cathedral horrifies me, when, on clear Sunday mornings, it flies over the mountains and reaches me, as if it were seeking in my breast the ancient and silent kingdom of God of childhood, which no longer exists. Know then that in the hearts of men there is an enchanted and dark realm where crystals, rubies, and all the precious stones of the depths shine with a loving, moving gaze, and you don’t know whence it comes or where it is going. The beauty of earthly life is shiningly filtered like the dawn, and the invisible fountains, whirling around, melancholically whisper, and everything pulls you down, eternally down.”
“Poor Raimundo!” exclaimed Ubaldo the knight, who had listened to the hermit with profound emotion, absorbed and immersed in his tale.
“For the love of God! Who are you that you know my name?” asked the hermit as if struck by lightning.
“My God,” answered the knight, affectionately embracing the trembling hermit. “Don’t you recognize me? I am your old and faithful comrade in arms Ubaldo, and this is your Bertha, whom you loved in secret and whom you helped onto her horse after the party in the castle. Time and a happy life have blurred our features from that time. I only recognized you when you began to tell your story. I have never been in a place like the one you describe and never fought with you on a cliff. Immediately after that party, I left for Palestine, where I fought for several years, and when I returned, the beautiful Bertha became my wife. She too never saw you after that party, and everything you’ve told is an idle fantasy. My poor Raimundo, an evil charm that awakens every Autumn and then disappears has held you for many years. The days have been months for you. When I returned from the Holy Land, no one could tell me where you were, and we all thought you lost.”
Fantastic Tales: Visionary and Everyday Page 4