As for Arafrantz, a mysterious transformation took place within him. At first he seemed to be flying with shadow wings that stretched from wall to wall, and to alight on the flaming island of Monte Fato. Then the enchantment became more and more dreamlike, until he felt that an endless river of swelling gold and silver was flowing over him, while an enormous quiche lorraine sang "O how I dig thee, hashberry, from nose to sleazy love-beads." Fleeing this song, he found himself again in the chamber of the eight-legged statues, rich in form, luxury, poetry, and breasts, with magnetic eyes, lascivious eyelashes, opulent tresses. They were Luthienne, Mélianne, Yavanne... then it seemed as if these three goddesses had united their three loves for one man, and that was he alone, and the heat of their desires burned hotter than Monte Fato itself, and yet more refreshing than the waters of Quélède-zarâme when Galadriella bathed there with the dwarves, and they advanced towards him with one of those inflexible and ardent regards like those of the Great Eye upon the Ring, or of Pippand upon a grove of mushrooms.
When Arafrantz awoke, his host had departed, and he too made haste to depart, for it was time he rejoined Réginard in Lottaloria. One of the Fantômes guided him, once more blindfolded, back to the shore. Arafrantz betook him to his ship, and ordered the captain to set sail for Galadrona, the heart of Elvendom in Terre-moyenne.
