The Psyches: the Laying 



Moth stands still on the roof of the cottage, 

 allowing his humours to evaporate, his wings 

 to spread and gather strength; then at last 

 the gallant takes flight, in search of her 

 for whose sake he has made himself so spruce. 



He wears a costume of deepest black, all 

 except the edges of the wings, which, having 

 no scales, remain diaphanous. His antennae, 

 likewise black, are wide and graceful plumes. 

 Were they on a larger scale, they would 

 throw the feathered beauty of the Marabou 

 and Ostrich into the shade. The bravely be- 

 plumed one visits case after case in his tor- 

 tuous flight, prying into the secrets of those 

 alcoves. If things go as he wishes, he settles, 

 with a quick flutter of his wings, on the ex- 

 tremity of the denuded vestibule. Comes the 

 wedding, as discreet as that of the smaller 

 Psyche. Here is yet another who does not 

 see or at most catches a fleeting glimpse of 

 her for whose sake he has donned Marabou- 

 feathers and a black-velvet cloak. 



The recluse on her side is equally impa- 

 tient. The lovers are short-lived; they die 

 in my cages within three or four days, so 

 that, for long intervals, until the hatching of 

 some late-comer, the female population is 

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