so by the light of the seven candles dom manuel first saw queen freydis in her own shape, and in the appearance which she wore in her own country. what manuel thought there was never any telling: but every other man who saw queen freydis in this appearance declared that instantly all his past life became a drugged prelude to the moment wherein he stood face to face with freydis, the high queen of audela.

freydis showed now as the most lovely of womankind. she had black plaited hair, and folds of crimson silk were over her white flesh, and over her shoulders was a black cloak embroidered with little gold stars and ink-horns, and she wore sandals of gilded bronze. but in her face was such loveliness as may not be told.

now freydis went from one side of the place to the other side, and saw the magics that protected the enclosure. "certainly, you have me fast," the high queen said. "what is it you want of me?"

manuel showed her the three images which he had made, set there arow. "i need your aid with these."

queen freydis looked at them, and freydis smiled. "these frozen abortions are painstakingly made. what more can anybody demand?"

dom manuel told her that he desired to make an animated and lively figure.

whereupon she laughed, merrily and sweetly and scornfully, and replied that never would she give such aid.

"very well, then," said manuel, "i have ready the means to compel you." he showed this lovely woman the instruments of her torture. his handsome young face was very grave, as though already his heart were troubled. he thrust her hand into the cruel vise which was prepared. "now, sorceress, whom all men dread save me, you shall tell me the tuyla incantation as the reward of my endeavors, or else a little by a little i shall destroy the hand that has wrought so many mischiefs."

freydis in the light of the seven candles showed pale as milk. she said: "i am frail and human in this place, and have no power beyond the power of every woman, and no strength at all. nevertheless, i will tell you nothing."

manuel set his hand to the lever, ready to loose destruction. "to tell me what i desire you to tell me will do you no hurt—"

"no," replied freydis: "but i am not going to take orders from you or any man breathing."

"—and for defying me you will suffer very terribly—"

"yes," replied freydis. "and much you will care!" she said, reproachfully.

"—therefore i think that you are acting foolishly."

freydis said: "you make a human woman of me, and then expect me to act upon reason. it is you who are behaving foolishly."

count manuel meditated, for this beyond doubt sounded sensible. from the look of his handsome young face, his heart was now exceedingly troubled. queen freydis breathed more freely, and began to smile, with the wisdom of women, which is not super-human, but is ruthless.

"the hand would be quite ruined, too," said manuel, looking at it more carefully. upon the middle finger was a copper ring, in which was set a largish black stone: this was schamir. but manuel looked only at the hand.

he touched it. "your hand, queen freydis, whatever mischief it may have executed, is soft as velvet. it is colored like rose-petals, but it smells more sweet than they. no, certainly, my images are not worth the ruining of such a hand."

then manuel released her, sighing. "my geas must stay upon me, and my images must wait," says manuel.

"why, do you really like my hands?" asked freydis, regarding them critically.

manuel said: "ah, fair sweet enemy, do not mock at me! all is in readiness to compel you to do my will. had you preserved some ugly shape i would have conquered you. but against the shape which you now wear i cannot contend. dragons and warlocks and chimaeras and such nameless monsters as i perceive to be crowding about this enclosure of buttered willow wands i do not fear at all, but i cannot fight against the appearance which you now wear."

"why, do you really like my natural appearance?" freydis said, incredibly surprised. "it is a comfort, of course, to slip into it occasionally, but i had never really thought much about it one way or the other—"

she went to the great mirror which had been set ready as helmas directed, "i never liked my hair in these severe big plaits, either. as for those monsters yonder, they are my people, who are coming out of the fire to rescue me, in some of the forgotten shapes, as spoorns and trows and calcars, and other terrors of antiquity. but they cannot get into this enclosure of buttered willow wands, poor dears, on account of your magickings. how foolish they look—do they not?—leering and capering and gnashing their teeth, with no superstitious persons anywhere to pay attention to them."

the queen paused: she coughed delicately. "but you were talking some nonsense or other about my natural appearance not being bad looking. now most men prefer blondes, and, besides, you are not really listening to me, and that is not polite."

"it is so difficult to talk collectedly," said manuel, "with your appalling servitors leering and capering and gnashing double sets of teeth all over upper morven—"

she saw the justice of this. she went now to that doorway through which, unless a man lifted her over the threshold, she might not pass, on account of the tonthecs and the spaks and the horseshoes.

she cried, in a high sweet voice: "a penny, a penny, twopence, a penny and a half, and a half-penny! now do you go away, all of you, for the wisdom of helmas is too strong for us. there is no way for you to get into, nor for me to get out of, this place of buttered willow wands, until i have deluded and circumvented this pestiferous, squinting young mortal. go down into bellegarde and spill the blood of northmen, or raise a hailstorm, or amuse yourselves in one way or another way. anyhow, do you take no thought for me, who am for the while a human woman: for my adversary is a mortal man, and in that duel never yet has the man conquered."

she turned to manuel. she said:

"the land of audela is my kingdom. but you embraced my penalties, you have made a human woman of me. so do i tread with wraiths, for my lost realm alone is real. here all is but a restless contention of shadows which pass presently; here all that is visible and all the colors known to men are shadows dimming the true colors; here time and death, the darkest shadows known to men, delude you with false seemings: for all such things as men hold incontestable, because they are apparent to sight and sense, are a weariful drifting of fogs that veil the world which is no longer mine. so in this twilit world of yours do we of audela appear to be but men and women."

"i would that such women appeared more often," said manuel.

"the land of audela is my kingdom, where i am queen of all that lies behind this veil of human sight and sense. this veil may not ever be lifted; but very often the veil is pierced, and noting the broken place, men call it fire. through these torn places men may glimpse the world that is real: and this glimpse dazzles their dimmed eyes and weakling forces, and this glimpse mocks at their lean might through these rent places, when the opening is made large enough, a few men here and there, not quite so witless as their fellows, know how to summon us of audela when for an hour the moon is void and powerless: we come for an old reason: and we come as men and women."

"ah, but you do not speak with the voices of men and women," manuel replied, "for your voice is music."

"the land of audela is my kingdom, and very often, just for the sport's sake, do i and my servitors go secretly among you. as human beings we blunder about your darkened shadow world, bound by the laws of sight and sense, but keeping always in our hearts the secrets of audela and the secret of our manner of returning thither. sometimes, too, for the sport's sake, we imprison in earthen figures a spark of the true life of audela: and then you little persons, that have no authentic life, but only the flickering of a vexed shadow to sustain you in brief fretfulness, say it is very pretty; and you negligently applaud us as the most trivial of men and women."

"no; we applaud you as the most beautiful," says manuel.

"come now, count manuel, and do you have done with your silly flatterings, which will never wheedle anything out of me! so you have trapped queen freydis in mortal flesh. therefore i must abide in the body of a human woman, and be subject to your whims, and to your beautiful big muscles, you think, until i lend a spark of audela's true life to your ridiculous images. but i will show you better, for i will never give in to you nor to any man breathing."

in silence count manuel regarded the delightful shaping and the clear burning colors of this woman's face. he said, as if in sadness: "the images no longer matter. it is better to leave them as they are."

"that is very foolish talk," queen freydis answered, promptly, "for they need my aid if ever any images did. not that, however, i intend to touch them."

"indeed, i forbid you to touch them, fair enemy. for were the images made as animated and lively as i wish them to be, i would be looking at them always, and not caring for any woman: and no woman anywhere would have the power to move me as your beauty moves me now, and i would not be valuing you the worth of an old onion."

"that is not the truth," says freydis, angrily, "for the man who is satisfied with the figure he has made is as great a fool about women as any other man. and who are you to be forbidding me anything?"

"i would have you remember," said manuel, very masterfully, "that they are my images, to do with as i wish. also i would have you remember that, whatever you may pretend to be in audela, here i am stronger than you."

now the proud woman laughed. defiantly she touched the nearest image, with formal ancient gestures, and you could see the black stone schamir taking on the colors of an opal. under her touch the clay image which had the look of alianora shivered, and drew sobbing breath. the image rose, a living creature that was far more beautiful than human kind, and it regarded manuel scornfully. then it passed limping from the enclosure: and manuel sighed.

"that is a strong magic," said manuel: "and this is almost exactly the admirable and significant figure that i desired to make in the world. but, as i now perceive too late, i fashioned the legs of this figure unevenly, and the joy i have in its life is less than the shame that i take from its limping."

"such magic is a trifle," freydis replied, "although it is the only magic i can perform in an enclosure of buttered willow wands. now, then, you see for yourself that i am not going to take orders from you. so the figure you have made, will you or nil you, must limp about in all men's sight, for not more than a few centuries, to be sure, but long enough to prove that i am not going to be dictated to."

"i do not greatly care, o fairest and most shrewd of enemies. a half-hour since, it seemed to me an important matter to wrest from you this secret of giving life to images. now i have seen the miracle; i know that for the man who has your favor it is possible to become as a god, creating life, and creating lovelier living beings than any god creates, and beings which live longer, too: and even so, it is not of these things that i am really thinking, but only of your eyes."

"why, do you like my eyes!" says freydis,—"you, who if once you could make living images would never be caring about any woman any more?"

but manuel told her wherein her eyes were different from the eyes of any other person, and more dangerous, and she listened, willingly enough, for freydis was not a human woman. thereafter it appeared that a grieving and a great trouble of mind had come upon manuel because of the loveliness of freydis, for he made this complaint:

"there is much loss in the world, where men war ceaselessly with sorrow, and time like a strong thief strips all men of all they prize. yet when the emperor is beaten in battle and his broad lands are lost, he, shrugging, says, 'in the next battle i may conquer.' and when the bearded merchant's ship is lost at sea, he says, 'the next voyage, belike, will be prosperous.' even when the life of an old beggar departs from him in a ditch, he says, 'i trust to be to-morrow a glad young seraph in paradise.' thus hope serves as a cordial for every hurt: but for him who had beheld the loveliness of freydis there is no hope at all.

"for, in comparison with that alien clear beauty, there is no beauty in this world. he that has beheld the loveliness of freydis must go henceforward as a hungry person, because of troubling memories: and his fellows deride him enviously. all the world is fretted by his folly, knowing that his faith in the world's might is no longer firm-set, and that he aspires to what is beyond the world's giving. in his heart he belittles the strong stupid lords of earth; and they, being strong, plan vengeance, the while that in a corner he makes images to commemorate what is lost: and so for him who has beheld the loveliness of freydis there is no hope at all.

"he that has willed to look upon queen freydis does not dread to consort with serpents nor with swine; he faces the mirror wherein a man beholds himself without self-deceiving; he views the blood that drips from his soiled hands, and knows that this, too, was needed: yet these endurings purchase but one hour. the hour passes, and therewith passes also freydis, the high queen. only the memory of her hour remains, like a cruel gadfly, for which the crazed beholder of queen freydis must build a lodging in his images, madly endeavoring to commingle memories with wet mud: and so for him who has beheld the loveliness of freydis there is no hope at all."

freydis heard him through, considerately. "but i wonder to how many other women you have talked such nonsense about beauty and despair and eternity," said freydis, "and they very probably liking to hear it, the poor fools! and i wonder how you can expect me to believe you, when you pretend to think me all these fine things, and still keep me penned in this enclosure like an old vicious cow."

"no, that is not the way it is any longer. for now the figure that i have made in the world, and all else that is in the world, and all that is anywhere without this enclosure of buttered willow wands, mean nothing to me, and there is no meaning in anything save in the loveliness of freydis."

dom manuel went to the door of the enclosure then to the windows, sweeping away the gilded tonthecs and the shining spaks, and removing from the copper nails the horseshoes that had been cast by mohammed's mare and hrimfaxi and balaam's ass and pegasus. "you were within my power. now i destroy that power, and therewith myself. now is the place unguarded, and all your servitors are free to enter, and all your terrors are untrammeled, to be loosed against me, who have no longer anything to dread. for i love you with such mortal love as values nothing else beside its desire, and you care nothing for me."

after a little while of looking she sighed, and said uneasily: "it is the foolish deed of a true lover. and, really, i do like you, rather. but, manuel, i do not know what to do next! never at any time has this thing happened before, so that all my garnered wisdom is of no use whatever. nobody anywhere has ever dared to snap his fingers at the fell power of freydis as you are doing, far less has anybody ever dared to be making eyes at her. besides, i do not wish to consume you with lightnings, and to smite you with insanity appears so unnecessary."

"i love you," manuel said, "and your heart is hard, and your beauty is beyond the thinking of man, and your will is neither to loose nor to bind. in a predicament so unexampled, how can it at all matter to me whatever you may elect to do?"

"then certainly i shall not waste any of my fine terrors on you!" said freydis, with a vexed tossing of her head. "nor have i any more time to waste upon you either, for presently the moon-children will be coming back to their places: and before the hour is out wherein the moon stays void and powerless i must return to my own kingdom, whither you may not follow, to provoke me with any more of your nonsense. and then you will be properly sorry, i dare say, for you will de remembering me always, and there will be only human women to divert you, and they are poor creatures."

freydis went again to the mirror, and she meditated there. "yes, you will be remembering me with my hair in these awful plaits, and that is a pity, but still you will remember me always. and when you make images they will be images of me. no, but i cannot have you making any more outrageous parodies like astonished corpses, and people everywhere laughing at queen freydis!"

she took up the magical pen, laid ready as helmas had directed, and she wrote with this gryphon's feather. "so here is the recipe for the tuyla incantation with which to give life to your images. it may comfort you a little to perform that silly magic. it, anyhow, will prevent such good-for-nothing minxes as may have no more intelligence than to take you seriously, from putting on too many airs and graces around the images which you will make of me with my hair done so very unbecomingly."

"nothing can ever comfort me, fair enemy, when you have gone away," said manuel.

but he took the parchment.