"So be it," said Aillas. "Gatekeeper, please announce us to Lord Daldace. This is Sir Garstang, a knight of Lyonesse; these are the gentlemen Yane, Scharis, Bode and Cargus, of various parts, and I am Aillas, a gentleman of Troicinet."
"Lord Daldace, through his magic, already expects you," said the gatekeeper. "Be good enough to wear these dominoes. You may leave your horses here and I will have them ready for you in the morning. Naturally, take with you your meat and drink." The six walked the graveled path, through the garden and across a terrace to Villa Meroe. The setting sun, shining for an instant under the lowering clouds, cast a shaft of light at the I doorway, where stood a tall man in a splendid costume of dark red velvet. Black hair, clipped short, curled close to his head. A short beard shrouded jaws and chin; a black domino masked his eyes.
"Gentlemen, I am Lord Daldace, and you are welcome to Villa Meroe, where I hope you will be comfortable for as long as you care to stay."
"Our thanks, your Lordship. We will trouble you a single night only, as important business compels us to the road."
"In that case, sirs, be advised that we are somewhat sybaritic in our tastes, and our entertainments are often beguiling. Eat nothing and drink nothing but your own stuffs, and you will find no difficulties. I hope you will not think the worse of me for the warning."
"Not at all, sir. Our concern is not revelry but only for shelter against the storm."
Lord Daldace made an expansive gesture. "When you have refreshed yourselves, we will talk further."
A footman led the group to a chamber furnished with six couches. An adjacent bathroom offered a flowing fall of warm water, soap of palm and aloes, towels of crushed linen. After bathing they ate the food and drink which they had brought from their saddle-bags.
"Eat well," said Aillas. "Let us not leave this room hungry."
"Better that we did not leave this room at all," observed Yane.
"Impossible!" declared Scharis. "Have you no curiosity?"
"In matters of this sort, very little. I am going directly to that couch."
Cargus said, "I am a great reveler, when the mood comes on me. To watch the revels of other folk sours my disposition. I too will take to the couch, and dream my own dreams."
Bode said: "I will stay; I need no persuasion."
Aillas turned to Garstang. "What of you?"
"If you stay, I will stay. If you go, I will stand by your side, to guard you from greed and intemperance."
"Scharis?"
"I could not contain myself in here. I will go, at least to wander and stare through the holes of my mask."
"Then I will follow, and ward you as Garstang guards me, and we both shall guard Garstang, so we will be reasonably secure."
Scharis shrugged. "As you say."
"Who knows what might occur? We will wander and stare together."
The three masked their faces and left the chamber.
Tall archways overlooked the terrace, where flowering jasmine, orange, elethea and cleanotis perfumed the air. On a settee padded with cushions of dark green velvet the three sat to rest. The clouds which had threatened a great storm had moved to the side; the night air was soft and mild.
A tall man in a dark red costume, with black curly hair and a small black beard, paused to survey them. "Well then, what do you think of my villa?"
Garstang shook his head. "I am beyond speech."
Aillas said: "There is too much to comprehend."
Scharis' face was pale and his eyes shone, but, like Garstang, he had nothing to say.
Aillas gestured to the couch. "Sit awhile with us, Lord Daldace."
"With pleasure."
"We are curious," said Aillas. "There is such overwhelming beauty here; it has almost the unreal quality of a dream."
Lord Daldace looked about as if seeing the villa for the first time. "What are dreams? Ordinary experience is a dream. The eyes, the ears, the nose: they present pictures on the brain, and these pictures are called ‘reality.' At night, when we dream, other pictures, of source unknown, are impinged. Sometimes the dream-images are more real than ‘reality.' Which is solid, which illusion? Why trouble to make the distinction? When tasting a delicious wine, only a pedant analyzes every component of the flavor. When we admire a beautiful maiden, do we evaluate the particular bones of her skull? I am sure we do not. Accept beauty on its own terms: this is the creed of Villa Meroe."
"What of satiation?"
Lord Daldace smiled. "Have you ever known satiation in a dream?"
"Never," said Garstang. "A dream is always most vivid."
Scharis said: "Both life and dreams are things of exquisite fragility. A thrust, a cut—they are gone: away, like a sweet scent on the wind."
Garstang said: "Perhaps you will answer this: why is everyone masked?"
"A whim, a crotchet, a fancy, a fad! I might counter your question with another. Consider your face: is it not a mask of skin? You three, Aillas, Garstang and Scharis, each is a person favored by nature; your skin-mask commends you to the world. Your comrade Bode is not so fortunate; he would rejoice to go forever with a mask before his face."
"None of your company appears ill-favored," said Garstang. "The gentlemen are noble and the ladies are beautiful. So much is evident despite the masks."
"Perhaps so. Still, late of night, when lovers become intimate and disrobe together, the last article to be removed is the mask."
Scharis asked: "And who plays the music?"
Aillas listened, as did Garstang. "I hear no music."
"Nor I," said Garstang.
"It is very soft," said Lord Daldace. "In fact, perhaps it is unheard." He rose to his feet. "I hope I have satisfied your wonder?"
"Only a churl would require more of you," said Aillas. "You have been more than courteous."
"You are pleasant guests, and I am sorry that you must go on the morrow. But now, a lady awaits me. She is new to Villa Meroe and I am anxious to enjoy her pleasure."
"A last question," said Aillas. "If new guests come, the old ones must leave, or they would congest every hall and chamber of Meroe. When they leave, where do they go?"
Lord Daldace laughed softly. "Where go the folk who live in your dreams when at last you wake?" He bowed and departed.
Three maidens stopped before them. One spoke with mischievous boldness. "Why do you sit so quietly? Do we lack charm?"
The three men rose to their feet. Aillas found himself facing a slender girl with pale blonde hair and features of flower-like delicacy. Eyes of violet-blue looked at him from behind the black domino. Aillas' heart gave a startled jerk, of both pain and joy-He started to speak, then checked himself. "Excuse me," he muttered. "I am not feeling well." He turned away, to find that Garstang had done the same. Garstang said: "It is impossible. She resembles someone who was once very dear to me."
"They are dreams," said Aillas. "They are very hard to resist. Is Lord Daldace so ingenuous, after all?"
"Let us return to our couches. I don't care for dreams quite so real... Where is Scharis?"
The maidens and Scharis were not to be seen. "We must find him," said Aillas. "His temperament will betray him."
They walked the chambers of Meroe, ignoring the soft lights, the fascinations, the tables laden with delicacies. At last they found Scharis, in a small courtyard opening on the terrace. He sat in the company of four others, blowing soft tones from the pipes of a syrinx. The others played various different instruments, to produce music of a haunting sweetness. Close beside Scharis sat a slim dark-haired maiden; she leaned so closely to him that her hair spread across his shoulder. In one hand she held a goblet of purple wine, which she sipped, and then, when the music stopped, she offered to Scharis.