CHAPTER X
“From Eden’s bowers the full-fed rivers flow, To guide the outcasts to the land of woe: Our Earth one little toiling streamlet yields. To guide the wanderers to the happy fields.”
After leaving this village, where I had rested for nearly aweek, I travelled through a desert region of dry sand and glitteringrocks, peopled principally by goblin-fairies. When I first entered theirdomains, and, indeed, whenever I fell in with another tribe of them,they began mocking me with offered handfuls of gold and jewels, makinghideous grimaces at me, and performing the most antic homage, as if theythought I expected reverence, and meant to humour me like a maniac. Butever, as soon as one cast his eyes on the shadow behind me, he made awry face, partly of pity, partly of contempt, and looked ashamed, asif he had been caught doing something inhuman; then, throwing down hishandful of gold, and ceasing all his grimaces, he stood aside to let mepass in peace, and made signs to his companions to do the like. I had noinclination to observe them much, for the shadow was in my heart as wellas at my heels. I walked listlessly and almost hopelessly along, till Iarrived one day at a small spring; which, bursting cool from the heartof a sun-heated rock, flowed somewhat southwards from the direction Ihad been taking. I drank of this spring, and found myself wonderfullyrefreshed. A kind of love to the cheerful little stream arose in myheart. It was born in a desert; but it seemed to say to itself, “I willflow, and sing, and lave my banks, till I make my desert a paradise.” I thought I could not do better than follow it, and see what it madeof it. So down with the stream I went, over rocky lands, burning withsunbeams. But the rivulet flowed not far, before a few blades ofgrass appeared on its banks, and then, here and there, a stunted bush.Sometimes it disappeared altogether under ground; and after I hadwandered some distance, as near as I could guess, in the direction itseemed to take, I would suddenly hear it again, singing, sometimes faraway to my right or left, amongst new rocks, over which it made newcataracts of watery melodies. The verdure on its banks increased as itflowed; other streams joined it; and at last, after many days’ travel,I found myself, one gorgeous summer evening, resting by the side of abroad river, with a glorious horse-chestnut tree towering above me, anddropping its blossoms, milk-white and rosy-red, all about me. As I sat,a gush of joy sprang forth in my heart, and over flowed at my eyes.
Through my tears, the whole landscape glimmered in such bewilderingloveliness, that I felt as if I were entering Fairy Land for the firsttime, and some loving hand were waiting to cool my head, and a lovingword to warm my heart. Roses, wild roses, everywhere! So plentiful werethey, they not only perfumed the air, they seemed to dye it a faintrose-hue. The colour floated abroad with the scent, and clomb, andspread, until the whole west blushed and glowed with the gatheredincense of roses. And my heart fainted with longing in my bosom.
Could I but see the Spirit of the Earth, as I saw once the in dwellingwoman of the beech-tree, and my beauty of the pale marble, I should becontent. Content!--Oh, how gladly would I die of the light of her eyes!Yea, I would cease to be, if that would bring me one word of love fromthe one mouth. The twilight sank around, and infolded me with sleep. Islept as I had not slept for months. I did not awake till late in themorning; when, refreshed in body and mind, I rose as from the death thatwipes out the sadness of life, and then dies itself in the new morrow.Again I followed the stream; now climbing a steep rocky bank that hemmedit in; now wading through long grasses and wild flowers in its path; nowthrough meadows; and anon through woods that crowded down to the verylip of the water.
At length, in a nook of the river, gloomy with the weight of overhangingfoliage, and still and deep as a soul in which the torrent eddies ofpain have hollowed a great gulf, and then, subsiding in violence, haveleft it full of a motionless, fathomless sorrow--I saw a little boatlying. So still was the water here, that the boat needed no fastening.It lay as if some one had just stepped ashore, and would in a momentreturn. But as there were no signs of presence, and no track through thethick bushes; and, moreover, as I was in Fairy Land where one does verymuch as he pleases, I forced my way to the brink, stepped into the boat,pushed it, with the help of the tree-branches, out into the stream,lay down in the bottom, and let my boat and me float whither the streamwould carry us. I seemed to lose myself in the great flow of sky aboveme unbroken in its infinitude, except when now and then, coming nearerthe shore at a bend in the river, a tree would sweep its mighty headsilently above mine, and glide away back into the past, never more tofling its shadow over me. I fell asleep in this cradle, in which motherNature was rocking her weary child; and while I slept, the sun sleptnot, but went round his arched way. When I awoke, he slept in thewaters, and I went on my silent path beneath a round silvery moon. Anda pale moon looked up from the floor of the great blue cave that lay inthe abysmal silence beneath.
Why are all reflections lovelier than what we call the reality?--notso grand or so strong, it may be, but always lovelier? Fair as is thegliding sloop on the shining sea, the wavering, trembling, unrestingsail below is fairer still. Yea, the reflecting ocean itself, reflectedin the mirror, has a wondrousness about its waters that somewhatvanishes when I turn towards itself. All mirrors are magic mirrors. Thecommonest room is a room in a poem when I turn to the glass. (And thisreminds me, while I write, of a strange story which I read in the fairypalace, and of which I will try to make a feeble memorial in its place.)In whatever way it may be accounted for, of one thing we may be sure,that this feeling is no cheat; for there is no cheating in nature andthe simple unsought feelings of the soul. There must be a truth involvedin it, though we may but in part lay hold of the meaning. Even thememories of past pain are beautiful; and past delights, though beheldonly through clefts in the grey clouds of sorrow, are lovely as FairyLand. But how have I wandered into the deeper fairyland of the soul,while as yet I only float towards the fairy palace of Fairy Land! Themoon, which is the lovelier memory or reflex of the down-gone sun, thejoyous day seen in the faint mirror of the brooding night, had rapt meaway.
I sat up in the boat. Gigantic forest trees were about me; throughwhich, like a silver snake, twisted and twined the great river. Thelittle waves, when I moved in the boat, heaved and fell with a plashas of molten silver, breaking the image of the moon into a thousandmorsels, fusing again into one, as the ripples of laughter die into thestill face of joy. The sleeping woods, in undefined massiveness; thewater that flowed in its sleep; and, above all, the enchantress moon,which had cast them all, with her pale eye, into the charmed slumber,sank into my soul, and I felt as if I had died in a dream, and shouldnever more awake.
From this I was partly aroused by a glimmering of white, that, throughthe trees on the left, vaguely crossed my vision, as I gazed upwards.But the trees again hid the object; and at the moment, some strangemelodious bird took up its song, and sang, not an ordinary bird-song,with constant repetitions of the same melody, but what sounded likea continuous strain, in which one thought was expressed, deepening inintensity as evolved in progress. It sounded like a welcome alreadyovershadowed with the coming farewell. As in all sweetest music, a tingeof sadness was in every note. Nor do we know how much of the pleasureseven of life we owe to the intermingled sorrows. Joy cannot unfoldthe deepest truths, although deepest truth must be deepest joy. Comethwhite-robed Sorrow, stooping and wan, and flingeth wide the doors shemay not enter. Almost we linger with Sorrow for very love.
As the song concluded the stream bore my little boat with a gentle sweepround a bend of the river; and lo! on a broad lawn, which rose from thewater’s edge with a long green slope to a clear elevation from which thetrees receded on all sides, stood a stately palace glimmering ghostly inthe moonshine: it seemed to be built throughout of the whitest marble.There was no reflection of moonlight from windows--there seemed to benone; so there was no cold glitter; only, as I said, a ghostly shimmer.Numberless shadows tempered the shine, from column and balcony andtower. For everywhere galleries ran along the face of the buildings;w
ings were extended in many directions; and numberless openings, throughwhich the moonbeams vanished into the interior, and which servedboth for doors and windows, had their separate balconies in front,communicating with a common gallery that rose on its own pillars.Of course, I did not discover all this from the river, and in themoonlight. But, though I was there for many days, I did not succeedin mastering the inner topography of the building, so extensive andcomplicated was it.
Here I wished to land, but the boat had no oars on board. However, Ifound that a plank, serving for a seat, was unfastened, and with that Ibrought the boat to the bank and scrambled on shore. Deep soft turf sankbeneath my feet, as I went up the ascent towards the palace.
When I reached it, I saw that it stood on a great platform of marble,with an ascent, by broad stairs of the same, all round it. Arrived onthe platform, I found there was an extensive outlook over the forest,which, however, was rather veiled than revealed by the moonlight.
Entering by a wide gateway, but without gates, into an inner court,surrounded on all sides by great marble pillars supporting galleriesabove, I saw a large fountain of porphyry in the middle, throwing up alofty column of water, which fell, with a noise as of the fusion of allsweet sounds, into a basin beneath; overflowing which, it ran into asingle channel towards the interior of the building. Although the moonwas by this time so low in the west, that not a ray of her light fellinto the court, over the height of the surrounding buildings; yet wasthe court lighted by a second reflex from the sun of other lands. Forthe top of the column of water, just as it spread to fall, caught themoonbeams, and like a great pale lamp, hung high in the night air, threwa dim memory of light (as it were) over the court below. This court waspaved in diamonds of white and red marble. According to my custom sinceI entered Fairy Land, of taking for a guide whatever I first foundmoving in any direction, I followed the stream from the basin of thefountain. It led me to a great open door, beneath the ascending steps ofwhich it ran through a low arch and disappeared. Entering here, I foundmyself in a great hall, surrounded with white pillars, and paved withblack and white. This I could see by the moonlight, which, from theother side, streamed through open windows into the hall.
Its height I could not distinctly see. As soon as I entered, I hadthe feeling so common to me in the woods, that there were othersthere besides myself, though I could see no one, and heard no sound toindicate a presence. Since my visit to the Church of Darkness, my powerof seeing the fairies of the higher orders had gradually diminished,until it had almost ceased. But I could frequently believe in theirpresence while unable to see them. Still, although I had company, anddoubtless of a safe kind, it seemed rather dreary to spend the night inan empty marble hall, however beautiful, especially as the moon was nearthe going down, and it would soon be dark. So I began at the place whereI entered, and walked round the hall, looking for some door or passagethat might lead me to a more hospitable chamber. As I walked, I wasdeliciously haunted with the feeling that behind some one of theseemingly innumerable pillars, one who loved me was waiting for me. ThenI thought she was following me from pillar to pillar as I went along;but no arms came out of the faint moonlight, and no sigh assured me ofher presence.
At length I came to an open corridor, into which I turned;notwithstanding that, in doing so, I left the light behind. Along thisI walked with outstretched hands, groping my way, till, arriving atanother corridor, which seemed to strike off at right angles to that inwhich I was, I saw at the end a faintly glimmering light, too pale evenfor moonshine, resembling rather a stray phosphorescence. However, whereeverything was white, a little light went a great way. So I walked onto the end, and a long corridor it was. When I came up to the light, Ifound that it proceeded from what looked like silver letters upon a doorof ebony; and, to my surprise even in the home of wonder itself, theletters formed the words, THE CHAMBER OF SIR ANODOS. Although I had asyet no right to the honours of a knight, I ventured to conclude thatthe chamber was indeed intended for me; and, opening the door withouthesitation, I entered. Any doubt as to whether I was right in so doing,was soon dispelled. What to my dark eyes seemed a blaze of light, burstupon me. A fire of large pieces of some sweet-scented wood, supported bydogs of silver, was burning on the hearth, and a bright lamp stood on atable, in the midst of a plentiful meal, apparently awaiting my arrival.But what surprised me more than all, was, that the room was in everyrespect a copy of my own room, the room whence the little stream from mybasin had led me into Fairy Land. There was the very carpet of grass andmoss and daisies, which I had myself designed; the curtains of pale bluesilk, that fell like a cataract over the windows; the old-fashioned bed,with the chintz furniture, on which I had slept from boyhood. “Now Ishall sleep,” I said to myself. “My shadow dares not come here.”
I sat down to the table, and began to help myself to the good thingsbefore me with confidence. And now I found, as in many instances before,how true the fairy tales are; for I was waited on, all the time of mymeal, by invisible hands. I had scarcely to do more than look towardsanything I wanted, when it was brought me, just as if it had come to meof itself. My glass was kept filled with the wine I had chosen, untilI looked towards another bottle or decanter; when a fresh glass wassubstituted, and the other wine supplied. When I had eaten and drankmore heartily and joyfully than ever since I entered Fairy Land, thewhole was removed by several attendants, of whom some were male and somefemale, as I thought I could distinguish from the way the dishes werelifted from the table, and the motion with which they were carried outof the room. As soon as they were all taken away, I heard a sound as ofthe shutting of a door, and knew that I was left alone. I sat long bythe fire, meditating, and wondering how it would all end; and when atlength, wearied with thinking, I betook myself to my own bed, it washalf with a hope that, when I awoke in the morning, I should awake notonly in my own room, but in my own castle also; and that I should walk,out upon my own native soil, and find that Fairy Land was, after all,only a vision of the night. The sound of the falling waters of thefountain floated me into oblivion.
Phantastes: A Faerie Romance for Men and Women Page 12