317. The Seven Remedial Virtues

 317. The Seven Remedial Virtues

So one fine, sunny but cold, crisp-aired morning off to Chalice Hill we went, strolling among brightly coloured falling leaves that formed garlands when they settled in our hair. Of course I, Little Dolphus, the intellectual Leafy, don’t have hair, but Azuline has dark blue hair and Esmeraldo has a green crest. And I, though leafies don’t wear hair, got a few of the itsy-bitsyest leaves trapped im my spectacles, so I was prettified too, I suppose. I, as I have just said, am the intellectual Leafy, Little Dolphus, which is why I wear glasses.

Chalice Hill is a lovely little mount shaped like just that, a chalice. There are no trees on it, but it is on a perpetually green esplanade, all grass and a few giant white pansies, and towards  its top it turns into a lid on the chalice with a little cross on it, little at least from a distance, and there is buried there a once and future king, but I won’t go into that, though there were, as usual, flocks of tourists scaling up to that tomb along the purple lanes that stood out from the grass, and these people were taking  endless selfies with a background view that grows more beautiful at each step, so much more beautiful that though they had taken a picture they felt they had to take another and another and yet another as they advanced. But we, we were on our way to a cloud that floats above the hill, a little to the left, apart from the center so as not to become involved with the tourists that little suspected there was something grand in the castle-shaped cloud that floated among other, differently shaped  ones in the blue sky. It wanted to be a very private cloud and it was, our castle cloud. We had to knock a dozen times on its door before someone answered.

“Ye who are standing at our doorstep! Who calls?” sang out a chorus of melodious voices.

And we answered, “Ye who are guarding the Virtues, let us pass! We are of good will!”

There are a lot of guards up there, and they all have to agree that they will let you pass for that to happen. So it took a while for them to study us and reach an agreement.

“We don’t know about the litte green lad,” sang the voices.

“Ye who are guarding the virtues! He’s not all good but he’s not all bad. He’s very kind to his sister. And he is here to become better upon acquaintance. Upon getting to know the Virtues, we mean.”

I had to say that, or Esmeraldo would never have gotten in. We couldn’t say we were there because of a dispute about the ownership of a pirate galley.

“Ye who want to improve yourselves, advance now!”

Now the Virtues never let a chance to do good go, so when they heard Esmeraldo wanted to learn how to be good, they just couldn’t turn us away and risked opening the now puffy, now wispy but determinedly unassailable castle door. Yes, it looked like a pushover, but it wasn’t. So did the many little specks of  light within that were its guardians. They managed to be seen flickering even though the inside of the cloudy castle was plump  full of the loveliest, most brilliant, rolling waves of light. And none of it hurt your eyes, bright as it was.

“Cute diamonds,” muttered Esmeraldo and Azuline quickly shushed him. Which was the right thing for her to do, for he was being too materialistic and might have thought to collect a few of the little guards for his treasure chest. They certainly could pass for diamonds and were doubtlessly jewels in their own way.

 “Advance, advance, advance! Advance, advance, advance, advance!” instructed the blessed choir of guards, flanking our vertical shimmering path until it got horizontal and we found ourselves before a simply beautiful throne, yes simple, but magnificent in its simplicity. 

There was a smiling young man sitting quietly on it, and he said softly, “I am Humility. Necessarily the first virtue you must meet if you want to learn,  but only first because of that. And I am pleased to meet you, ye who wish to learn about virtues and how to counter sins. Walk on, and meet my wonderful brethren.”

We moved horizontally and stood before a second throne, which was of the shape of an enormous tree, green with jade leaves and ripe with fruits of many kinds, with vines of amethyst grapes hanging from it too, and thus we met Generosity, whose open hands were always full of wondrous fruit she held out to us. “All yours if you really want it, all yours even if you only need it,” she said. “The more I give, the more I have.” She was not sitting on her lush tree, but standing, leaning out towards us. Azuline grasped Esmeraldo’s arm and he protested “She says I can have it!” But Azuline hushed her little brother, took nothing but gave thanks for the offer.

And we again took some steps and were standing before Charity, a youth who beamed on us with his heart in his hand and a pelican sitting on a throne that was like a nest behind him. The best of his smiles was for Esmeraldo. And all he said was “Welcome!” But you could tell he really meant it.

“Why does he keep a pelican for a pet?” asked Esmeraldo.

“It’s a symbol, not a pet,” I said. “The pelican is said to be such a generous bird that it tears its heart out to feed its young.”

“And it dies right there before them?”

“This is only a legend. The bird doesn’t need to do that. Fortunately.”

And we moved on, and there was Chastity, a young knignt with a suit of lily white armour whose throne was a horse and whose horse was a unicorn and whose eyes saw us, but were also seeing beyond us. “Hi,” he greeted us.

And then we met Temperance, firm and determined, who held two cups and juggled a liquid rainbow from one to the other without dropping a drop of it. “Balance is best,” adviced Temperance.

Next was Patience, in her flowing robes, all flowers round her buds and not yet in bloom, and herself sitting on top of an hourglass, and she smiled timidly.

And last was Diligence, a girl who was busy writing in a golden notebook with a quill made from a peacock’s feather. She sat at a desk, all surrounded by books that flew slowly circulating around her, colourfully bound volumes all,  but there was a broom standing by itself  behind her, and on the table,  there were instruments like hammers and protractors and compasses and there was a telescope close by, and on the ground a large basin into which water flowed from out of nowhere without flooding anything, and a bucket and a mop stood at attention too even so, and though there were a lot of things there, and some in movement, they seemed to be each in its place, and nothing lacking and all in order.  And she looked up from her work and nodded at us, smiling, and was back at it again.

“Is seeing these people supposed to have made me better?” asked Esmeraldo. “I am diligent in any case, aren’t I? That I am. I do my work conscientiously.”  And one could see how Diligence was sniffling a little upon hearing those words, but without looking up from her work.

“You’re supposed to be diligent at good work, not at the awful job you chose for yourself,” I, the Intellectual Leafy, informed Esmeraldo. “And I do hope learning about these virtues has indeed improved your character and taught you what you should aspire to be.”

“These virtues all look like children,” remarked Azuline. “Why is that? I thought they would be grown ladies. I am sure they have to be old.”

“Probably because you have to be like children to live in a place like Apple Island,” I said, “and these people actually look it.”

“Aren’t there more virtues?” asked Azuline. “Like courage. Courage is one, isn’t it?”

“Indeed. And I am sure all these seven are very brave. You must be, to be good. But these are the remedial virtues, the ones that counter seven deadly sins, remedies for vices. And, unfortunately, we aren’t here to learn about more, but to see a lady called Splendida about the dubious ship Outrageous.”