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 Alone! O Chimera, you cannot do that. . . .! For I love you; I adore you with all my soul, and shall die of grief and tears, Chimera, if you fly away from me! I love you; I worship your golden eyes, your voice of bronze, your steaming breath, your panting flanks, your mane, to which I bound myself, your flaming wings, which carried me far, farther and farther. . . . to this place. . . .! O Chimera, lay down your smoking limbs in the shadow of the night; lay your noble head in my arms and my bosom, and together we will rest, and to-morrow fly away farther, united forever!”

“I cannot, O little Psyche. I too love you, sweet burden which lay between my wings—little butterfly with weak wings, that lent strength to my flight; but now. . . .”

“But now—O Chimera, but now. . . .?”

“But now I must go, continue my lonely journey to and fro, without knowing why. . . . Farewell, little Psyche, hope in life, hope in the morrow. . . .”

He spread his wings, his limbs quivered, he ascended into the air.

She wrung her arms, her hands. She sobbed, she sobbed. . ..