A Maggot

by John Fowles

  Q. What answered you?

  A. What was false itself: that reputation was false.

  Q. Very well. Now come to the cavern.

  A. Still shall I tell truth, master Ayscough.

  Q. As I shall doubt where I please.

  A. Doubted truth is no less truth.

  Q. Then no less truth for being doubted. Speak on.

  A. First as we mounted to where the cavern lay, tho' 'twas yet hidden from our eyes behind a fold of land, there stood sudden in our path, a lady in silver.

  Q. How, in silver?

  A She was clothed, tho' most strange, in plain silver, that had no pattern to it, nor flowering. And more strange still, wore narrow trowse, as seamen wear, or northmen over their breeches, such that I saw once a-riding into London, yet more narrow, that fitted almost close as hose. And above a close-fit smock, cut of the same cloth, that shone like silver. And on her feet she wore as a man's riding-boots, yet shorter; as of black leather, without their tops. And so she stood there, gazing upon us, as she had waited our coming.

  Q. Mean you to maintain she sprang from nothing, from thin air?

  A. So she had lain in hiding till then.

  Q. Why say you she was lady?

  A. She was no common person.

  Q. Was she attended? Was there no groom or servant?

  A. No. She was alone.

  Q. Young or old?

  A. Young and fair to see, with full dark hair, that was not bound, as black as a raven's wing; yet cut strange in a line above her brows, nor a curl to be seen.

  Q. Wore she no cap or hat?

  A. No. And I must tell thee her manner was strange as her appearance, for she moved and stood not as a lady might, more as a young gentleman, I mean of most simple and easy

  sort, that cares not for pomp and formal appearance; and did salute us in strange fashion also, so, with her hands held in front of her, so, as 'twere in prayer. Yet held thus for a

  moment only, as another might raise a hand to a friend, in light greeting.

  Q. She showed no surprise at your coming?

  A. No, not none.

  Q. What response made his Lordship?

  A. He fell at the once upon his knee, and did take off his hat, it seemed in respect. And Dick besides, and I must follow, though I knew not why, nor who she might be. Whereat the young lady did smile, as one who had not expected such courtesy; yet, being done, did welcome it.

  Q. She did not speak?

  A. No, not one word.

  Q. His Lordship addressed her?

  A. He knelt with head bowed, so to say he dared not look her in her face.

  Q. Thought you they had met before?

  A. Save that he did seem to know who she was.

  Q. Made she no especial sign of greeting or respect to his Lordship?

  A. No.

  Q. Of what stuff were these her singular clothes?

  A. Of none I have seen. They shone like best silk, yet fell more stiff, when she moved.

  Q. You say she was young?

  A Of my own age, or less.

  Q. How far from you stood she in this manner?

  A. It may be fifty paces, not more.

  Q. Seemed she of English blood, or foreign?

  A. Not English.

  Q. Then of what nation?

  A. In looks she was most like unto one showed these two summers past in a tent beside the Mall, that they called the Corsair Woman. Who was taken from a ship captured in the West, and said as cruel a sailor as any man, tho' mistress unto the corsair's- captain. He was renegade, and hanged at Deptford docks, she spared. And would stare at us who paid to view her so she would kill us were she not chained, yet was exceeding handsome and fine-figured. Claiborne thought to have her to the bagnio, and the taming of her fierceness as a whet to the boldest rakes; but those who kept her would not agree a price. And said besides, she would not bear such a thing, should kill herself rather than suffer it. This lady upon the path was not she, I pray thee do not mistake. This upon the path was gentle of face, not cruel.

  Q. This woman you speak of in the tent, she was Moorish?

  A Turkess?

  A. I know not, save she had dark eyes and hair, and a skin of olive. She wore no red nor ceruse, and had somewhat of the Jewesses I have seen in London; yet her manner not modest, nor seeming fearful as is their wont. Of she in the tent d heard some declare she was false, no true Corsair woman, but a common Egyptian paid so to pretend. I tell thee, I speak only of how it did come to my mind when first she stood there.

  Q. Why say you she seemed more as a young gentleman in her behaving?

  A. That she made no affectation of elegant manner, as a London lady might; as she had no need of fashion nor airs to prove her state. She did seem at a loss at our kneeling, like she found it not necessary. For soon after, she placed her hands upon her hips, as a man might, to say we puzzled her.

  Q. She was angered?

  A. No, for she smiled still, it seemed more we did amuse her. And then again of a sudden she did show with her arm behind her, so might one invite a stranger to a house or chamber, that he should enter at his will. 'Twas as the daughter of a house, before her parents' coming.

  Q. Saw you no malice nor evil in this person?

  A. I told ill of her to Jones, may God forgive me. I did see, as I say, strange dress and manner; in truth in all else innocence and beauty, that knew not England nor its ways, yet had a freedom and an ease no Englishwoman knows of.

  Q. What followed?

  A. She did make that same gesture with her hands, so; then did turn and walk away, simple and idle as within her private garden; for she did stoop and pluck a flower and raised it to her nose to smell. So might she had we never been there. Then his Lordship arose and we mounted where she had first stood, and could see all before us, the cavern's mouth withal. Where she now did stand, and seeing us, did point towards the pool, so to say we should wait there; and turned and entered in its darkness and was gone.

  Q. This path by which you had mounted - seemed it well trod, had others passed that way often?

  A. 'Twas faint, or not at all.

  Q. Did you not ask his Lordship who this person was?

  A. Aye, and he answered, I pray she shall be thy friend. No more.

  Q. Proceed.

  A. We came to where a pool and stone did stand, before the cavern. There his Lordship a little apart, while I knelt by the pool, and bathed my face, and drank of it, for the sun beated down, and I was hot.

  Q. Now I ask you, mistress, you were hot, were you not out of your wits with the sun and your walking? I do not say you lie, yet that there was some disorder in your spirits, and you saw what was never in front of you, but had pushed forth from your heated mind in the semblance of reality?

  A, No, I am sure not.

  Q. It is not heard of, that any woman whatsoever, far less a lady, and one of foreign birth, should be alone in such a place. Much is not heard of, that is. Thee must judge when all is said.

  Q. Then say it

  A. His Lordship came to where I sat beside the pool and said, The time is come, Fanny. The keepers await. Now I must tell thee, as we waited, my heart had of a sudden sore misgiven me of what we did. I liked not that black cavern's mouth across the grass, that seemed more fit for a gateway to Hell than to curing waters. And when his Lordship spoke, I answered that I began to fear. To which he replied, It is too late now to fear. I would have him to assure me I should come to no harm in what we did. To which he said, I should come to more harm now if I disobeyed. I would know more of the keepers, but he grew impatient, and said, No more of this, and took my arm, so I must go with him to where Dick stood, by the stone; and must as well put on my crown of may. When Dick seized my hand, and I was straightway made to walk by him toward the cavern, while his Lordship came a two paces behind, like it were to attend us, in my fears I thought the better to prevent me, should I try to escape. And now did I sink under great alarm that God forgive me I was fallen into the hand
s of two devils, who wore the mask of ordinary men; and these waters they that are said to boil eternal for sinners in the deeps of hell, and their keeper must be the Devil, who I was now to meet. And all this swept upon me with such force, I fell on my knees as we walked and begged his Lordship to tell me the truth. I knew I had sinned, but no more than many others, and begged to be spared, I know not what. To which he told me quick I was a fool and said, did I not suppose if they took me to Hell, the last thing I should meet was punishment, on the contrary I should be welcomed with open arms, I had done their service so well. He said, had I not been the Devil's good servant? Should I not fear Heaven's anger far more? And then was I pulled to my feet again, and must move on.

  Q. Did not his Lordship threaten you with his sword?

  A. No, tho' he was drawn, and held it in his hand. He spake not in a rage, more as one impatient I should mistake their purpose so.

  Q. I return a moment. Saw you, before his Lordship fetched you to this, a sign from the cavern that the time was come. The woman in silver beckoned not, nor servant?

  A. I cannot tell. I looked not towards the cavern, I was too lost in my fears and thoughts.

  Q. Did you not mark a burnt place beside the cavern's mouth?

  A. Yes. I had forgot to tell.

  Q. What did you observe of it?

  A. It seemed new-burnt, yet was there no pile of ashes. It lay in a circle, as of a great fire.

  Q. Very well. On.

  A. First my eyes were weak after the brightness of the sun, and I saw only shadows, and knew not where I went save by Dick's guidance. Until of a sudden he made me turn upon my left hand.

  Q. Why stop you?

  A. The maggot.

  Q. What maggot?

  A. That floated in the inner cavern, like a great swollen maggot, white as snow upon the air.

  Q. What is this?

  A. Yes, like a maggot, tho' not. Its great eye shone down upon us, my blood did curdle in my veins; and I must perforce call out in my fear, ignorant that I was. Now his Lordship came beside me and took my other arm, and forward towards it, and then to kneel.

  Q. You alone, or all?

  A. All, as at the temple, and upon the path.

  Q. I'll know more of this maggot. What appearance had it?

  A. Of white, yet not of flesh, as it were wood japanned, or fresh-tinned metal, large as three coaches end to end, or more, its head with the eye larger still; and I did see other eyes along its sides that shone also, tho' less, through a greenish glass. And at its end there was four great funnels black as pitch, so it might vent its belly forth there.

  Q. Had it jaws and teeth?

  A. No, none, nor legs neither at that first, but six black holes or mouths beneath.

  Q. It lay not on the ground? It was suspended - there were ropes, timber, could you not see?

  A. No, none.

  Q. How high in the air?

  A. At twice a man's height, it may be more. I thought not then of measure.

  Q. Why say you maggot?

  A. So I first believed it to be. For it had a seeming head, and a tail, and was fat, and like in colour.

  Q. Did it move?

  A. Not when first we stood before it, it hung in the air like to a kite, yet no string. Or a windhover, yet beat no wings, as they do.

  Q. Of what girth or circumference?

  A. More than a man in height. Two men.

  Q. Ten to twelve feet?

  A. Yes.

  Q. And you say, as three coaches long or more? Why, this is fancy entire. Thou mak'st it up, 'tis not to be believed. How came this thing within a cavern whose mouth would not admit it, nor the passage to its inner chamber neither?

  A. I know not, save that it was there. And if thee won't have it there, then I say no more. I will not lie. I am dammed as a stream is dammed, and must spill to waste.

  Q. I may sooner believe thy three witches that was told to Jones, and the Devil at thy tail, than this.

  A. That is, thee art man. Thee'd. make me mirror of thy sex. Dost know what a harlot is, master Ayscough? What all men would have all women be, that they may the easier think the worst of them. I would I had a guinea for every man that hath told me he wished I were his wife, or his wife like me.

  Q. Enough of thy licentious tongue. I'll not yet dam thy tale, mistress, but I'll see thee damned for a liar yet. This most preposterous maggot - bore it no marks other?

  A. Upon its side was a wheel with figures thereafter, in a line; and yet another, upon its belly, the same.

  Q. How a wheel?

  A. As 'twas painted upon its white skin, in a blue as of summer sea, or sky; and that bore many spokes about its hub.

  Q. And the figures?

  A. I knew them not. They were in a line, as letters or numbers, that might be read by those who knew. One was in the likeness of a bird, it might be a swallow flying; and another, of a flower, as daubed upon a piece of china pot, not strict to the life, tho' all of equal size. And yet another was as a circle, divided in two halves by crescent line; its one half black, the other left white, so the moon in middle wane.

  Q. There were no alphabet letters, nor numbers?

  A. No.

  Q. You marked no emblem of Christianity?

  A. No.

  Q. Made it no sound?

  A. There was as a humming, tho' low, as of a closed furnace that flames, as oven before baking. Like also to a cat that purrs. And soon did I smell of that sweet smell I knew at the temple, and guessed it to be the same light that had floated above us there; and my heart had relief, for I knew this must bring no evil, for all its seeming.

  Q. How, you see a vile prodigy that denies all Nature's laws, and deem it not evil?

  A. No, I knew it not evil, by this smell; that it was the lion's carcase, and held honey within. And as I shall tell.

  Q: What, you may tell good and evil by smell?

  A. By this smell, yes. For it was of innocence and blessedness.

  Q. Very fine. Now tell how innocent blessedness doth smell.

  A. I could not say in words; though I smell it yet.

  Q. As I thy self-weening piety, which stinketh over this thy manner of answering. I command you to describe this smell, as it might come to nostrils less blest.

  A. All that was good in what does smell.

  Q. But sweet, or more harsh? Of musk, bergamot, attar, myrrh? Of flowers or fruit, or made waters, such as they of Hungary or Cologne? Of what must be burnt or of what smells of its natural essence? Why answer you not?

  A. Of life eternal.

  Q. Mistress, had I asked another question of you, such as in what your belief or hope may lie, you may answer so. But not in this. You say that still you smell this smell. Very well. I'll not be foisted by this havering.

  A. Then most it smells of the white canker that grows in June in the hedge, which we did call the virgin rose when I was small, and a bride must carry in her posy, if she is wed within its season; that lasts but one day or two, and smells most pure when first it opens and is golden of its heart.

  Q. The white briar, you would say?

  A. She the rose that is weak, and falls if she is not supported, and less sweet of her perfume than they that grow in gardens. Yea, like to her, but yet stronger, as she were 'stilled. And yet this is no more than to say a man's soul by his outward face.

  Q. Did there not burn upon the cavern's floor a great fire, as you told Jones?

  A. No, yet a place as one had been, like that outside; but old, of darkened ashes only, long burnt away.

  Q. It burnt not still?

  A. 'Twas dead. No spark nor smoulder.

  Q. You are certain? Was there no smell of burning also?

  A. I am certain. There was no smell.

  Q. Saw you not, now you were close, by what powers this great light shone?

  A. No, for it was covered as by milk-glass, or thick muslin, that showed nothing behind. Yet more bright than any lamp or sconce I've seen in this world.

  Q.
How large was its expanse?

  A. A foot.

  Q. No more?

  A. 'Twas so. But brighter than the sun. 'Twas not to be beheld direct.

  Q. How close kneeled you while it hovered above?

  A. Passing close. As to that far wall here.

  Q. Do you maintain that this was some engine come from the temple to this place; that might mount into the heavens, as a bird?

  A. Yes, and far besides.

  Q. Though it had no wheels, nor wings, nor horses?

  A. Thee must hear more, master Ayscough. I do not blame thee. Thee would have me out of my wits, and the fool of apparitions. Thee would have me put wheels and wings to God's breath. Thee can see I am a poor woman, and not well lettered; and a plain one besides, in my natural. I tell thee this came not in a dream, by apparitions, but more like to those prodigies I have seen on show in London. Thee may say they are false, done by deceit and trickery; but not that they were not there to be seen.

  Q. Now in all this, marked you his Lordship's behaviour? Seemed he alarmed, in fear of this monstrous prodigy?

  A. The rather, in expectation. He had removed his hat once more, and carried it by his side.

  Q. As one who knew he entered the presence of a greater?

  A. Yes.

  Q. And Dick the same? He appeared not frightened?

  A. More in awe, his eyes cast down.

  Q. On.

  A. We were knelt, as I say, his Lordship with his sword before him, point to the ground, and his hands upon its hilt, so a gentleman of old before his king. Then came there a sigh

  from the floating maggot, and it did begin to fall, most slowly, like a feather; and came so until its belly rested nigh upon the ground; and from that belly now there stuck forth thin legs that had great dark paws, on the which it rested. No I sooner that than of a sudden there appeared upon its side toward us an open door.

  Q. How, a door?

  A. I saw none, while it floated; yet as it came to ground, such a door was opened unto us, in its central part; and tho' I saw not how, nor any person, there fell upon a cunning hinge a set of stairs like for a coach that led to the ground from this door. Of three steps or four, and all of silver latticed.