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 “Who is God? Oh, tell me more! Tell me more! Don’t go away yet! I want to ask you so much, to hear so much. I am so stupid. I have longed so for you. Now you have come, and now you want to go away again.”

“Do not ask me for wisdom; I have none. Ask the Sphinx for wisdom; ask me for flight.”

“Oh, stay a little longer! Don’t flap so with your flaming wings! Who is the Sphinx? O Chimera, do not give me wisdom, but flight!”

“Not now. . . .”

“When, then?”

“Later. . . .”

“When is that?”

“Farewell.”

“O Chimera, Chimera. . . .!”

The horse had already spread out his wings broad. He was ascending. But Psyche suddenly threw both her arms round his neck and hung on to his mane.

“Let me go, little princess!” cried the horse. “I ascend quickly, and you will fall, to be dashed to pieces on the rock! Loose me!”