The Centaur shrugged. "It may be you forget; it is certain that you
underestimate the local population. Some of the transient visitors
you have seen, and in addition hereabouts dwell the year round all
manner of imaginary creatures. The fairies live just southward, and
the gnomes too. To your right is the realm of the Valkyries: the
Amazons and the Cynocephali are their allies: all three of these
nations are continually at loggerheads with their neighbors, the
Baba-Yagas, whom Morfei cooks for, and whose monarch is Oh, a person
very dangerous to name. Northward dwell the Lepracauns and the Men
of Hunger, whose king is Clobhair. My people, who are ruled by
Chiron, live even further to the north. The Sphinx pastures on
yonder mountain; and now the Chimaera is old and generally derided,
they say that Cerberus visits the Sphinx at twilight, although I was
never the person to disseminate scandal--"

"Centaur," said Jurgen, "and what is Dorothy doing here?"

"Why, all the women that any man has ever loved live here," replied
the Centaur, "for very obvious reasons."

"That is a hard saying, friend."

Nessus tapped with his forefinger upon the back of Jurgen's hand.
"Worm's-meat! this is the destined food, do what you will, of small
white worms. This by and by will be a struggling pale corruption,
like seething milk. That too is a hard saying, Jurgen. But it is a
true saying."

"And was that Dorothy whom I loved in youth an imaginary creature?"