Chương Chương 17 · Chapter XVII
. Chapter XVII
“First, I thought, almost despairing,
This must crush my spirit now;
Yet I bore it, and am bearing—
Only do not ask me how.”
HEINE.
When the daylight came, it brought the possibility of action, but with
it little of consolation. With the first visible increase of light, I
gazed into the chasm, but could not, for more than an hour, see
sufficiently well to discover its nature. At last I saw it was almost a
perpendicular opening, like a roughly excavated well, only very large.
I could perceive no bottom; and it was not till the sun actually rose,
that I discovered a sort of natural staircase, in many parts little
more than suggested, which led round and round the gulf, descending
spirally into its abyss. I saw at once that this was my path; and
without a moment’s hesitation, glad to quit the sunlight, which stared
at me most heartlessly, I commenced my tortuous descent. It was very
difficult. In some parts I had to cling to the rocks like a bat. In one
place, I dropped from the track down upon the next returning spire of
the stair; which being broad in this particular portion, and standing
out from the wall at right angles, received me upon my feet safe,
though somewhat stupefied by the shock. After descending a great way, I
found the stair ended at a narrow opening which entered the rock
horizontally. Into this I crept, and, having entered, had just room to
turn round. I put my head out into the shaft by which I had come down,
and surveyed the course of my descent. Looking up, I saw the stars;
although the sun must by this time have been high in the heavens.
Looking below, I saw that the sides of the shaft went sheer down,
smooth as glass; and far beneath me, I saw the reflection of the same
stars I had seen in the heavens when I looked up. I turned again, and
crept inwards some distance, when the passage widened, and I was at
length able to stand and walk upright. Wider and loftier grew the way;
new paths branched off on every side; great open halls appeared; till
at last I found myself wandering on through an underground country, in
which the sky was of rock, and instead of trees and flowers, there were
only fantastic rocks and stones. And ever as I went, darker grew my
thoughts, till at last I had no hope whatever of finding the white
lady: I no longer called her to myself _my_ white lady. Whenever a
choice was necessary, I always chose the path which seemed to lead
downwards.
At length I began to find that these regions were inhabited. From
behind a rock a peal of harsh grating laughter, full of evil humour,
rang through my ears, and, looking round, I saw a queer, goblin
creature, with a great head and ridiculous features, just such as those
described, in German histories and travels, as Kobolds. “What do you
want with me?” I said. He pointed at me with a long forefinger, very
thick at the root, and sharpened to a point, and answered, “He! he! he!
what do _you_ want here?” Then, changing his tone, he continued, with
mock humility—“Honoured sir, vouchsafe to withdraw from thy slaves the
lustre of thy august presence, for thy slaves cannot support its
brightness.” A second appeared, and struck in: “You are so big, you
keep the sun from us. We can’t see for you, and we’re so cold.”
Thereupon arose, on all sides, the most terrific uproar of laughter,
from voices like those of children in volume, but scrannel and harsh as
those of decrepit age, though, unfortunately, without its weakness. The
whole pandemonium of fairy devils, of all varieties of fantastic
ugliness, both in form and feature, and of all sizes from one to four
feet, seemed to have suddenly assembled about me. At length, after a
great babble of talk among themselves, in a language unknown to me, and
after seemingly endless gesticulation, consultation, elbow-nudging, and
unmitigated peals of laughter, they formed into a circle about one of
their number, who scrambled upon a stone, and, much to my surprise, and
somewhat to my dismay, began to sing, in a voice corresponding in its
nature to his talking one, from beginning to end, the song with which I
had brought the light into the eyes of the white lady. He sang the same
air too; and, all the time, maintained a face of mock entreaty and
worship; accompanying the song with the travestied gestures of one
playing on the lute. The whole assembly kept silence, except at the
close of every verse, when they roared, and danced, and shouted with
laughter, and flung themselves on the ground, in real or pretended
convulsions of delight. When he had finished, the singer threw himself
from the top of the stone, turning heels over head several times in his
descent; and when he did alight, it was on the top of his head, on
which he hopped about, making the most grotesque gesticulations with
his legs in the air. Inexpressible laughter followed, which broke up in
a shower of tiny stones from innumerable hands. They could not
materially injure me, although they cut me on the head and face. I
attempted to run away, but they all rushed upon me, and, laying hold of
every part that afforded a grasp, held me tight. Crowding about me like
bees, they shouted an insect-swarm of exasperating speeches up into my
face, among which the most frequently recurring were—“You shan’t have
her; you shan’t have her; he! he! he! She’s for a better man; how he’ll
kiss her! how he’ll kiss her!”
The galvanic torrent of this battery of malevolence stung to life
within me a spark of nobleness, and I said aloud, “Well, if he is a
better man, let him have her.”
They instantly let go their hold of me, and fell back a step or two,
with a whole broadside of grunts and humphs, as of unexpected and
disappointed approbation. I made a step or two forward, and a lane was
instantly opened for me through the midst of the grinning little
antics, who bowed most politely to me on every side as I passed. After
I had gone a few yards, I looked back, and saw them all standing quite
still, looking after me, like a great school of boys; till suddenly one
turned round, and with a loud whoop, rushed into the midst of the
others. In an instant, the whole was one writhing and tumbling heap of
contortion, reminding me of the live pyramids of intertwined snakes of
which travellers make report. As soon as one was worked out of the
mass, he bounded off a few paces, and then, with a somersault and a
run, threw himself gyrating into the air, and descended with all his
weight on the summit of the heaving and struggling chaos of fantastic
figures. I left them still busy at this fierce and apparently aimless
amusement. And as I went, I sang—
If a nobler waits for thee,
I will weep aside;
It is well that thou should’st be,
Of the nobler, bride.
For if love builds up the home,
Where the heart is free,
Homeless yet the heart must roam,
That has not found thee.
One must suffer: I, for her
Yield in her my part
Take her, thou art worthier—
Still I be still, my heart!
Gift ungotten! largess high
Of a frustrate will!
But to yield it lovingly
Is a something still.
Then a little song arose of itself in my soul; and I felt for the
moment, while it sank sadly within me, as if I was once more walking up
and down the white hall of Phantasy in the Fairy Palace. But this
lasted no longer than the song; as will be seen.
Do not vex thy violet
Perfume to afford:
Else no odour thou wilt get
From its little hoard.
In thy lady’s gracious eyes
Look not thou too long;
Else from them the glory flies,
And thou dost her wrong.
Come not thou too near the maid,
Clasp her not too wild;
Else the splendour is allayed,
And thy heart beguiled.
A crash of laughter, more discordant and deriding than any I had yet
heard, invaded my ears. Looking on in the direction of the sound, I saw
a little elderly woman, much taller, however, than the goblins I had
just left, seated upon a stone by the side of the path. She rose, as I
drew near, and came forward to meet me.
She was very plain and commonplace in appearance, without being
hideously ugly. Looking up in my face with a stupid sneer, she said:
“Isn’t it a pity you haven’t a pretty girl to walk all alone with you
through this sweet country? How different everything would look?
wouldn’t it? Strange that one can never have what one would like best!
How the roses would bloom and all that, even in this infernal hole!
wouldn’t they, Anodos? Her eyes would light up the old cave, wouldn’t
they?”
“That depends on who the pretty girl should be,” replied I.
“Not so very much matter that,” she answered; “look here.”
I had turned to go away as I gave my reply, but now I stopped and
looked at her. As a rough unsightly bud might suddenly blossom into the
most lovely flower; or rather, as a sunbeam bursts through a shapeless
cloud, and transfigures the earth; so burst a face of resplendent
beauty, as it were _through_ the unsightly visage of the woman,
destroying it with light as it dawned through it. A summer sky rose
above me, gray with heat; across a shining slumberous landscape, looked
from afar the peaks of snow-capped mountains; and down from a great
rock beside me fell a sheet of water mad with its own delight.
“Stay with me,” she said, lifting up her exquisite face, and looking
full in mine.
I drew back. Again the infernal laugh grated upon my ears; again the
rocks closed in around me, and the ugly woman looked at me with wicked,
mocking hazel eyes.
“You shall have your reward,” said she. “You shall see your white lady
again.”
“That lies not with you,” I replied, and turned and left her.
She followed me with shriek upon shriek of laughter, as I went on my
way.
I may mention here, that although there was always light enough to see
my path and a few yards on every side of me, I never could find out the
source of this sad sepulchral illumination.