318. Castle Cloud's Other Inhabitants

318. Castle Cloud's Other Inhabitants

“Ye whom we are overhearing!” sang the chorus of little shimmering  lights, “Have we heard right? Is it your  intention to visit Splendida?”

“Erh…yes,” I said. “That and what we’ve just done. Get Esmeraldo to know about the virtued, I mean. This part of our business has concluded. Successfully, we hope. I’m sure we’ve acheived something here. You’ll be a better person from now on now that you know how to be one, won’t you, Gemmy? ”

Esmeraldo saw it was necessary to say he would indeed be a better person if he wanted to solve the question of the legal ownership of the Outrageous.

“I promise to consider all I have learned here and try to do things better. That should be enough for you for now. I can’t do better until I’ve digested all this and have a chance to, ye who are standing there blocking my path,” and he added, for he thought maybe he hadn’t reassured the guardians sufficiently, “I mean what I’ve said. Honest to goodness.”

Now the guardians were not stupid, and while he had been speaking they had sent one of their kind to investigate. And this light returned saying, “There is a dissension out there about to whom a certain bounteous galley may belong, and these people are here to settle the question before the disagreement becomes bitter. The ship is splendid and  could belong to Splendida. I think we should allow them to see her.”

“The trouble is we haven’t let her loose yet,” said another of the lights. “Can’t this wait till Christmas?”

“¡¡¿¿Let loose??!!” exclaimed Azuline. She was quite shocked to hear the lights speak in this way.

“We have some explaining to do, I think,” said another of the lights. “Are we agreed?”

And the chorus said in chorus, “This is not just the homesite of the Remedial Virtues, who fight the seven vile vices we’d rather not mention here by name. Also here, in their own space, we have residing the Seven Excesses, of which the Lady Splendour is one.”

“They reside here or are retained here?” asked Esmeraldo, who young as he was,  had experience sequestering people.

“These people aren’t horribly bad,” said the Lights. “In fact they are sometimes too good. And that…well, that can cause problems. We can’t kick them out of the Island. Not even out of its airspace, which is where it has been decided they should dwell.”

“This sounds to me like a restraining order,” said Esmeraldo. “Is this place a madhouse you have here? Because if it isn’t a prison…”

“No, no, no, no!” protested the shimmering lights, all flickering indignantly. And then it became clear there was, despite their initial vehemence, some dissension too among them.

“The real madhouse is way down in the unnameable place.”

“The bottonless pit?”

“EeeeeK!” went all the little lights.

“Yes, but not exactly. The Seven Deadly Sins each have a princely throne there,” said one. “There, I’ve said it. But the leader they answer to allows these princes’ subjects to roam the mortal world. To recruit more of their persuasion  if they can. We don’t force anyone to stay put here. The Excesses of Virtue are here voluntarily. This is a home. Their home sweet home. They can’t control themselves so we help them do that.”

“Our visitors will understand better when they meet the Excesses, I think. Please remember we are speaking of well-intentioned people who would like to control themselves but can’t always.”  

We then followed the lights across a courtyard to the other side of the castle, the back part of it, right into a very large hall fitted up as a sitting-room. There were several people  there, each about his or her business.

“Little girl,” said a bearded man standing by the door to Azuline, “why are you showing your fine head of hair so brazenly? Don’t you realize you could get into trouble for that? Some man could sequester you.”

“Me? Why would he want to?” asked Azuline innocently.

A laughing, very pleasingly plump and pretty-faced lady whose own splendid head of  teased hair was well visible, just as was a treasure chest hoardof emeralds and amethysts all hanging from her, making her look like a spectacular Christmas tree, all lighted up too, laughed out loud. “To make you wash his filthy underpants!” said the lady.

“Yes!” said a woman who was on her knees despite her elegant velvet frock, trimmed with French lace,  busily scrubbing a floor that couldn’t have been already cleaner. “Some people are too lazy to wash their own clothes. Pay no attention to Mr. Prudery, dear. He can’t help exaggerating. It’s in his nature. He’s not to be taken into account. Now, please be so kind as to float a little above the floor so as not to muck it up. It’s not that I would mind cleaning it again. It’s that I’ve a lot of other things to do, darlings. I wouldn’t be Dame Workaholic if I didn’t.”

“Well, I think it is a little vain of this little girl to show off her lovely hair. It is truly lovely, dear, but precisely because of that you really ought to cut it off. You don’t want to be considered too proud. It would hurt the feelings of those who can’t have lovely hair like yours. You look like a nice girl that wouldn’t  want to do that. Personally, I don’t mind. I’m used to being almost bald and gray and mousy. And I would never have what it takes to hurt anyone, least of all a child. But there are those who might harm you out of envy. Not here. You’re safe here, like we are. We’re safe from oursleves too.”

This speech was said by a man who sat by an umbrella stand full of measuring rods and tapes and divided scales and such.

“Get back to reading your favorite book, dear,” said the most bejewelled lady to this second gentleman. “Uriah Heep is Mr. Meek’s  favorite villain,” she then explained to us, as this man quietly did as he was told and picked up a cheap, paperback version of David Copperfield and nailed his eyes on it, as if only too conscious and sorry that he has spoken too much.

“Hypocrite!“ Mr. Meek hissed softly at an illustration of Mr. Heep.

“He doesn’t like people who only pretend to be humble!” smiled a jolly-looking, sweet-faced old fellow, patting Mr. Meek comfortingly on the shoulder. “Don’t fuss too much about Uriah,  old chap, you know he will get his comeuppance!”  He did that with his bright  eyes on us, where they had been since we had entered the room, and he said to us, “I’ve been dying to ask what I can do for you! What shall it be? Do ask! It shall be granted to you!”

“We’re here to see Splendida,” said Esmeraldo, getting at once to the point.

“Oh,” said Mr. Servile, sounding a little disappointed. “Of course you are. She’s so…splendid there’s no competing. Still, if there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m more than willing to be of service.”

“Splendida?” said the most bejewelled lady. “Now what could a little green lad, a blue little lady and an imposingly  spectacled Leafy want from me? It’s because of this black Friday furor, isn’t it? Or because Christmas is near!”

“Ah,” sighed Diligence, “such a wonderfully busy time Christmas. But it’s still a while off, isn’t it, Apathy?”

“I don’t mind waiting,”said a quiet little creature sitting almost invisibly in a corner.

“Ah, yes. Too much for the nerves of the likes of you it is, anyway. Pity you can’t perk up and lend me a hand with all the organizing and preparations.”

“Look here, darlings,” said voluptuous Spledida, “I won’t put a penny into your hats. A whole flock of geese each will I shove in there. Ask through your honeyed mouths dears, and I’ll know what to give you. They don’t call me Opulence for nothing.”

“I like that,” said Esmeraldo before anyone else could speak. “This lady speaks my language! What like? I love your attitude. But before you begin to dish out, Lady Splendour, could you tell me why Temperance in Excess isn’t in this room?”

“Oh, but Scarcity is here! Hiding behind the curtains, being as scarce as possible!”