But her feet grew leaden, and now she was not dancing, could dance no more. What had happened to her feet? Had they gone first, gone over to the other side, were they waiting for her there in the church shaped like a mountain, the mountain church where the black wind blew? Oh, what summons was this, and the gate opened. Oh, wide was the gate and inky the blackness beyond, and the wind blew through the gate, the unceasing wind from the other side, a dank wind smelling of earth, the cold wind of blackness. 'Darling, you'd better take a coat.'
Ah, there was a crooning now in the cypress-trees, the keening of those who take their leave and look no more. Who was holding her legs fast? The numbness worked upwards, and as it rose it spread a chill before it and her breathing grew laboured and there were dewy pearls on her cheeks and a taste in her mouth. 'You won't forget,' she murmured. 'Tonight at nine,' she murmured, and her mouth filled with spittle and her lips smiled dully and she tried to lean her head back to see him but could not, and on the other side someone was sharpening a scythe with a hammer. She tried to move her hand in a gesture of farewell, but could not, her hand had gone before her. 'Wait for me,' he said to her from a great distance. 'For see, there comes my heavenly king!' she smiled, and she stepped into the mountain church.
Then he closed her eyes, and stood up, and took her in his arms, and lifted her heavy, empty deadness, and circled the room carrying her in his arms, holding her close and cradling her with all his love, cradling and gazing at the silent, serene, loving woman who had given so generously of her lips, had slipped such fervent notes under doors at break of day, cradling and gazing at his pallid-faced queen, his lovely innocent who had kept her trysts beneath the polestar.
Suddenly his legs buckled and a cold hand nudged him, and he set her down on the bed and lay by her side and kissed her virginal face, softened now by just the shadow of a smile and as beautiful as it had been on that first of their nights, kissed her hand, which was still warm but heavy now, held her hand in his, kept her hand in his until he reached the cellar where a midget was weeping, weeping openly for her comely king who was dying transfixed with nails to the wart-studded door, her doomed king who was weeping too, weeping for forsaking his children on earth, his children whom he had not saved, what would they do without him, and suddenly the midget enjoined him in ringing tones, ordered him to offer up the last prayer in accordance with the ritual, for the hour had come.
Table of Contents
INTRODUCTION: ALBERT COHEN AND BELLE DU SEIGNEUR
PART ONE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
PART TWO
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
PART THREE
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
PART FOUR
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER62
CHAPTER63
CHAPTER64
CHAPTER 65
CHAPTER 66
CHAPTER 67
CHAPTER 68
CHAPTER69
CHAPTER 70
CHAPTER 71
CHAPTER 72
CHAPTER 73
CHAPTER 74
CHAPTER 75
CHAPTER 76
CHAPTER 77
CHAPTER 78
CHAPTER79
CHAPTER 80
PART FIVE
CHAPTER 8l
CHAPTER 82
CHAPTER 83
CHAPTER 84
CHAPTER 85
CHAPTER 86
CHAPTER 87
CHAPTER 88
CHAPTER 89
CHAPTER 90
CHAPTER 91
PART SIX
CHAPTER 92
CHAPTER 93
CHAPTER 94
CHAPTER 95
CHAPTER 96
CHAPTER 97
CHAPTER 98
CHAPTER 99
CHAPTER 100
CHAPTER 101
CHAPTER 102
PART SEVEN
CHAPTER 103
CHAPTER 104
CHAPTER 105
CHAPTER 106