The Bride of Dreams
THE BRIDE OF DREAMS BY FREDERIK VAN EEDEN AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION BY MELLIE VON AUW THE-PLIMPTON-PRESS NORWOOD-MASS-U-S-A I As one approaches my little city from the sea on a summer's day, one sees only the tall, round clump of trees on the ramparts and, overtopping it, the old bell-tower with its fantastically shaped and ornamented stories and dome-top of deep cobalt blue. The land to either side is barely visible, and the green foliage flooded with pale sunshine seems to drift in the sun-mist on the grayish yellow waters. It is a dreamy little town, that once in Holland's prime had a
had worn an indescribable glow of feeling, which seemed to have come upon
her from a higher and better world, and she had looked far more beautiful
than now when she was fully dressed, and when her women crowded round
leer--Zoe having laid aside the Plato--with loud and unmeasured flattery.
Cleopatra delighted in being thus feted, and, in order to enjoy the
adulation of a throng, she would always when dressing have a great number
of women to attend her toilet; mirrors were held up to her on every side,
a fold set right, and the jewelled straps of her sandals adjusted.
One praised the abundance of her hair, another the slenderness of her
form, the slimness of her ankles, and the smallness of her tiny hands and
feet. One maiden remarked to another--but loud enough to be heard--on the
brightness of her eyes which were clearer than the sapphires on her brow,
while the Athenian waiting-woman, Thais, declared that Cleopatra had
grown fatter, for her golden belt was less easy to clasp than it had been
ten days previously.
The queen presently signed to Zoe, who threw a little silver ball into a
bowl of the same metal, elaborately wrought and decorated, and in a few
minutes the tramp of the body-guard was audible outside the door of the
tent.
Cleopatra went out, casting a rapid glance over the roof--now brightly
illuminated with cressets and torches--and the white marble statues that
gleamed out in relief against the dark clumps of shrubs; and then,
THE BRIDE OF DREAMS BY FREDERIK VAN EEDEN AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION BY MELLIE VON AUW THE-PLIMPTON-PRESS NORWOOD-MASS-U-S-A I As one approaches my little city from the sea on a summer's day, one sees only the tall, round clump of trees on the ramparts and, overtopping it, the old bell-tower with its fantastically shaped and ornamented stories and dome-top of deep cobalt blue. The land to either side is barely visible, and the green foliage flooded with pale sunshine seems to drift in the sun-mist on the grayish yellow waters. It is a dreamy little town, that once in Holland's prime had a