CHAPTER XI
“A wilderness of building, sinking far And self-withdrawn into a wondrous depth, Far sinking into splendour--without end: Fabric it seemed of diamond and of gold, With alabaster domes, and silver spires, And blazing terrace upon terrace, high Uplifted.” WORDSWORTH.
But when, after a sleep, which, although dreamless, yet left behind it asense of past blessedness, I awoke in the full morning, I found, indeed,that the room was still my own; but that it looked abroad upon anunknown landscape of forest and hill and dale on the one side--and onthe other, upon the marble court, with the great fountain, the crest ofwhich now flashed glorious in the sun, and cast on the pavement beneatha shower of faint shadows from the waters that fell from it into themarble basin below.
Agreeably to all authentic accounts of the treatment of travellers inFairy Land, I found by my bedside a complete suit of fresh clothing,just such as I was in the habit of wearing; for, though variedsufficiently from the one removed, it was yet in complete accordancewith my tastes. I dressed myself in this, and went out. The whole palaceshone like silver in the sun. The marble was partly dull and partlypolished; and every pinnacle, dome, and turret ended in a ball, or cone,or cusp of silver. It was like frost-work, and too dazzling, in the sun,for earthly eyes like mine.
I will not attempt to describe the environs, save by saying, that allthe pleasures to be found in the most varied and artistic arrangement ofwood and river, lawn and wild forest, garden and shrubbery, rocky hilland luxurious vale; in living creatures wild and tame, in gorgeousbirds, scattered fountains, little streams, and reedy lakes--all werehere. Some parts of the palace itself I shall have occasion to describemore minutely.
For this whole morning I never thought of my demon shadow; and not tillthe weariness which supervened on delight brought it again to mymemory, did I look round to see if it was behind me: it was scarcelydiscernible. But its presence, however faintly revealed, sent a pang tomy heart, for the pain of which, not all the beauties around me couldcompensate. It was followed, however, by the comforting reflection that,peradventure, I might here find the magic word of power to banishthe demon and set me free, so that I should no longer be a man besidemyself. The Queen of Fairy Land, thought I, must dwell here: surely shewill put forth her power to deliver me, and send me singing throughthe further gates of her country back to my own land. “Shadow of me!” I said; “which art not me, but which representest thyself to me as me;here I may find a shadow of light which will devour thee, the shadow ofdarkness! Here I may find a blessing which will fall on thee as a curse,and damn thee to the blackness whence thou hast emerged unbidden.” Isaid this, stretched at length on the slope of the lawn above the river;and as the hope arose within me, the sun came forth from a light fleecycloud that swept across his face; and hill and dale, and the great riverwinding on through the still mysterious forest, flashed back his rays aswith a silent shout of joy; all nature lived and glowed; the very earthgrew warm beneath me; a magnificent dragon-fly went past me like anarrow from a bow, and a whole concert of birds burst into choral song.
The heat of the sun soon became too intense even for passive support. Itherefore rose, and sought the shelter of one of the arcades. Wanderingalong from one to another of these, wherever my heedless steps led me,and wondering everywhere at the simple magnificence of the building, Iarrived at another hall, the roof of which was of a pale blue, spangledwith constellations of silver stars, and supported by porphyry pillarsof a paler red than ordinary.--In this house (I may remark in passing),silver seemed everywhere preferred to gold; and such was the purity ofthe air, that it showed nowhere signs of tarnishing.--The whole of thefloor of this hall, except a narrow path behind the pillars, paved withblack, was hollowed into a huge basin, many feet deep, and filled withthe purest, most liquid and radiant water. The sides of the basin werewhite marble, and the bottom was paved with all kinds of refulgentstones, of every shape and hue.
In their arrangement, you would have supposed, at first sight, thatthere was no design, for they seemed to lie as if cast there fromcareless and playful hands; but it was a most harmonious confusion; andas I looked at the play of their colours, especially when the waterswere in motion, I came at last to feel as if not one little pebble couldbe displaced, without injuring the effect of the whole. Beneath thisfloor of the water, lay the reflection of the blue inverted roof,fretted with its silver stars, like a second deeper sea, clasping andupholding the first. The fairy bath was probably fed from the fountainin the court. Led by an irresistible desire, I undressed, and plungedinto the water. It clothed me as with a new sense and its object both inone. The waters lay so close to me, they seemed to enter and revive myheart. I rose to the surface, shook the water from my hair, and swam asin a rainbow, amid the coruscations of the gems below seen through theagitation caused by my motion. Then, with open eyes, I dived, and swambeneath the surface. And here was a new wonder. For the basin, thusbeheld, appeared to extend on all sides like a sea, with here and theregroups as of ocean rocks, hollowed by ceaseless billows into wondrouscaves and grotesque pinnacles. Around the caves grew sea-weeds of allhues, and the corals glowed between; while far off, I saw the glimmerof what seemed to be creatures of human form at home in the waters. Ithought I had been enchanted; and that when I rose to the surface, Ishould find myself miles from land, swimming alone upon a heavingsea; but when my eyes emerged from the waters, I saw above me the bluespangled vault, and the red pillars around. I dived again, and foundmyself once more in the heart of a great sea. I then arose, and swam tothe edge, where I got out easily, for the water reached the very brim,and, as I drew near washed in tiny waves over the black marble border. Idressed, and went out, deeply refreshed.
And now I began to discern faint, gracious forms, here and therethroughout the building. Some walked together in earnest conversation.Others strayed alone. Some stood in groups, as if looking at and talkingabout a picture or a statue. None of them heeded me. Nor were theyplainly visible to my eyes. Sometimes a group, or single individual,would fade entirely out of the realm of my vision as I gazed. Whenevening came, and the moon arose, clear as a round of a horizon-sea whenthe sun hangs over it in the west, I began to see them all moreplainly; especially when they came between me and the moon; and yet moreespecially, when I myself was in the shade. But, even then, I sometimessaw only the passing wave of a white robe; or a lovely arm or neckgleamed by in the moonshine; or white feet went walking alone over themoony sward. Nor, I grieve to say, did I ever come much nearer to theseglorious beings, or ever look upon the Queen of the Fairies herself. Mydestiny ordered otherwise.
In this palace of marble and silver, and fountains and moonshine, Ispent many days; waited upon constantly in my room with everythingdesirable, and bathing daily in the fairy bath. All this time I waslittle troubled with my demon shadow I had a vague feeling that he wassomewhere about the palace; but it seemed as if the hope that I shouldin this place be finally freed from his hated presence, had sufficed tobanish him for a time. How and where I found him, I shall soon have torelate.
The third day after my arrival, I found the library of the palace; andhere, all the time I remained, I spent most of the middle of the day.For it was, not to mention far greater attractions, a luxurious retreatfrom the noontide sun. During the mornings and afternoons, I wanderedabout the lovely neighbourhood, or lay, lost in delicious day-dreams,beneath some mighty tree on the open lawn. My evenings were by-and-byspent in a part of the palace, the account of which, and of myadventures in connection with it, I must yet postpone for a little.
The library was a mighty hall, lighted from the roof, which was formedof something like glass, vaulted over in a single piece, and stainedthroughout with a great mysterious picture in gorgeous colouring.
The walls were lined from floor to roof with books and books: most ofthem in ancient bindings, but some in strange new fashions which I had
never seen, and which, were I to make the attempt, I could ill describe.All around the walls, in front of the books, ran galleries in rows,communicating by stairs. These galleries were built of all kinds ofcoloured stones; all sorts of marble and granite, with porphyry, jasper,lapis lazuli, agate, and various others, were ranged in wonderful melodyof successive colours. Although the material, then, of which thesegalleries and stairs were built, rendered necessary a certain degreeof massiveness in the construction, yet such was the size of the place,that they seemed to run along the walls like cords.
Over some parts of the library, descended curtains of silk of variousdyes, none of which I ever saw lifted while I was there; and I feltsomehow that it would be presumptuous in me to venture to look withinthem. But the use of the other books seemed free; and day after day Icame to the library, threw myself on one of the many sumptuous easterncarpets, which lay here and there on the floor, and read, and read,until weary; if that can be designated as weariness, which was ratherthe faintness of rapturous delight; or until, sometimes, the failing ofthe light invited me to go abroad, in the hope that a cool gentle breezemight have arisen to bathe, with an airy invigorating bath, the limbswhich the glow of the burning spirit within had withered no less thanthe glow of the blazing sun without.
One peculiarity of these books, or at least most of those I looked into,I must make a somewhat vain attempt to describe.
If, for instance, it was a book of metaphysics I opened, I had scarcelyread two pages before I seemed to myself to be pondering over discoveredtruth, and constructing the intellectual machine whereby to communicatethe discovery to my fellow men. With some books, however, of thisnature, it seemed rather as if the process was removed yet a great wayfurther back; and I was trying to find the root of a manifestation,the spiritual truth whence a material vision sprang; or to combinetwo propositions, both apparently true, either at once or in differentremembered moods, and to find the point in which their invisiblyconverging lines would unite in one, revealing a truth higher thaneither and differing from both; though so far from being opposed toeither, that it was that whence each derived its life and power. Or ifthe book was one of travels, I found myself the traveller. Newlands, fresh experiences, novel customs, rose around me. I walked, Idiscovered, I fought, I suffered, I rejoiced in my success. Was it ahistory? I was the chief actor therein. I suffered my own blame; I wasglad in my own praise. With a fiction it was the same. Mine was thewhole story. For I took the place of the character who was most likemyself, and his story was mine; until, grown weary with the life ofyears condensed in an hour, or arrived at my deathbed, or the end of thevolume, I would awake, with a sudden bewilderment, to the consciousnessof my present life, recognising the walls and roof around me, andfinding I joyed or sorrowed only in a book. If the book was a poem, thewords disappeared, or took the subordinate position of an accompanimentto the succession of forms and images that rose and vanished with asoundless rhythm, and a hidden rime.
In one, with a mystical title, which I cannot recall, I read of aworld that is not like ours. The wondrous account, in such a feeble,fragmentary way as is possible to me, I would willingly impart. Whetheror not it was all a poem, I cannot tell; but, from the impulse I felt,when I first contemplated writing it, to break into rime, to whichimpulse I shall give way if it comes upon me again, I think it must havebeen, partly at least, in verse.
Phantastes: A Faerie Romance for Men and Women Page 13