by Adam Roberts
I kept my owne counsel at this.
We waited for a further halfe of an houre, or perhaps more. I could not resist the yawning that overcame me, &d notwithstanding the curiouseness I felt to discover what blacke masse the Parson was attendant upon I craved to sleepe againe. But the Parson did pinch me &d keep me from nodding.
Theere was silence for a long while, &d then the Parson did break it with a long speeche. That doctrine is well-knowne, he said, wheereby the four elements of this worlde are peopled with creatures of a Forme &d species less corporeal than vulgar mortals. The wize Theophrast Paracelsus hath delineated this in his workes of philosophie. Those from the fierie regions do we calle Scalamanders, who beget kinges &d heroes with spirits that resemble their deietical sires; those from water we call Nymphs, &d such lovely inhabitants as dwell in that element. Those of the earth, earthie, are called Gnomes or Fairies or some times Elfs. Those of the air are Sylphes, &d it is these Sylphes that shall attend our revels this faire night.
&d howe, I asked, do these Sylphes appeare themselves before us?
As beings like to themselves, he replied, &d againe he peered close at his flintstone, or whate’er he held, for I sawe not.
Do ye see the moon, master Thomas? he asked me, shortly. &d in truth I could not miss seeing it, for it seemed larger than ever before I had seen it, glassie &d white &d shyning with a tide of light.
I do, said I.
Diana herself, the ancients thought, said the Parson, looking up. But do ye see the mountains &d lakes in her Globe? Such pocks upon the goddess her face as a courtesan might fear from her mal d’amour. Have you ne’er considered what creatures may live in that place?
I had not til that moment bethought me of this question, &d said so to the Parson.
Yet I assure you that the Moone is a worlde, &d that it is inhabited. But this carries in its traine certaine questions of great import. For think ye: these Beings in this globe, created as the Divines tell us by GOD Almighty. &d aske yourself, how are they saved? Are they redeemed in the bloode of Christ, as are we? But how can that be, if Christ died in our world &d not theirs – &d if Christ took the forme of a man of our world, &d not a being of theirs? So are they redeemed in the bloode of their owne Saviour, who took the forme of their being, &d was cruxified upon a device fitted to their frame? But then theere were two Christs, not one, tho the Bible promised us our unique &d special favour in God taking man’s corpus. &d if two, why not three, or ten, or ten thousand? Or are theere as many Christs as theere be graynes of sand upon a beach? If so, then why do we worshipp the Christ instructed us by the Church that hath taken his name? For He is in no wise special. Perhap we should chuse another.
At this moment I felt a great turning-over in my bowells, as of fear, tho theere was naught to Hand at which I might be affrighted, save onlie the Parson who was no different to his selfe as always was. But I trembl’d with this feare, &d turned me around, &d about againe, expecting to see a Spectre or Ghoust approach.
Sir, I cried, I like not this place.
It is a charming spott, he said, speaking tightly, yet perchance in jest.
I beg you sir, I cryed, falling upon my knees in the wette grass, if you can by any meanes prevail upon your Conscience to release me heere, I beseech you so to do, not scrupling anything for feare I should report to any person of what has passed, for I shall not, but onlie to have mercie upon my distress.
Fie, Master Tickletumble, he said, mockingly, do ye quail? Are you a man or a babe at suck?
Tho he spoke lightly &d in jeste, yet his Wordes might have been cries of great wrath for the effect they had upon me. I quail’d further, &d I beleeve I whimpered like a whipt dog. O I tryed to speake, but no wordes came beyond a stammer of Pa-pa-pa. I was on the grass, &d tiny &d fearful. Then they came &d fill’d me &d I stood up. Yea, I stood up as a flame stands from the summit of a candle, &d life was in me. My former pusillanimity &d timidity sloughed from me, &d I stood tall &d strong.
The Parson, seeing this change in me, shewed a change in his Countenance also. In the clasp of his great excitement he danced before me. Are they in ye now, my lad? He cried. &d how do ye? Do they communicate?
But I was far beyond him now. I took him &d placed the padde of my Thumb &d Forefinger upon the skinne of his throat, such that he gasped &d gasped as a fishe without water. But I cockt my eare, as a hound does, to attend to the wordes of such Sylphis as were now speaking to me, or better to saye not speaking, for theere were neither speeche nor wordes in their discourse, but in some wize to reache me with sapience &d thought. Theirs were not Wordes, I saye againe: or (for it is precious harde to catch the truth of it in my saying) perhap their Wordes were Wordes of Aire, which is their element, &d the grosser matter of my ear was poorly tuned to it. Yet could I hear them, &d they were drawne to me, as the Parson had said.
&d. Peter spake
&d. he had searchd for me, over great times, as seventeen years, and two hundred and eighty-nine years, and more.
&d my sight &d hearing was wondrous increas’d, such that I felt the coming of divers gentlemen who in converse with one &d another reveal’d themselves to be colleagues of the Parson, come to revel in the Black Masse. Tho they were yet on the far side of the river I reach’d out for them anyway &d stay’d their path. These gentlemen, who were unknown to me quite, yet they lay down up’n their backs &d cried in fearful paine, for I had seiz’d their Ribbes &d their Spines &d rolled them twixt my fingers like pastry.
I shall have more to say of these gentlemen anon; for they were men in conspiratus with the Parson, &d soon I was finisht with them.
At this time in my Account it behooves me to relate such things as passed in Common Exchange between myselfe &d these Sylphis, seeing as howe I am now arointed as Warlock, set to be hanged, &d meerly on account of my traffic with these Beings. But such, tho I shifte me to recall them all, &d tho I am resign’d to lay it all down, yet the taske is not so simpl as all that. For item primus, the appearance of these Beings was mutable &d strange, sometimes coming into my Minde as Devils, Black Bats, scal’d serpents &d Insectes of prodigious proportion, such as might be expected of the brood of Sathanas. But for item secundus, they would sometimes occur to me as strands of light all woven into a [k]not &d streaming radiance upon me, with strips of Luminance like limbs, as might be Legs, Arms, a Head &d such, &d from these beings would come great Comfort &d a great sense of wellbeing &d Hopefulness. &d nor is it true to say that these two manners of Manifestation were follow’d one on another, but Concurrent, in somewise I know not. The greatest length of our discourse together was concern’d with the Sylphis their anxietie about Time, by which worde they, it seem’d, meant divers matters, id. the time mark’d by Clock; the time marked by Sundiall; the time mark’d by Heartbeat &d by some obscure process of the Nerve or Brain of which, in truth, I wot not; &d in most particular Uncertaintie of theirs, the time mark’d by a Child, such as waits with agony for the Schoolmaster’s Lesson to end that they might runne out &d play with their fellows, as is compared with the time of the Olde Man, for whom Days fleet bye, as minutes might to a youngster, &d the years folde into one-the-other, &d time blurs like the wingbeat of a Kingfisher. For this matter perplexd the Sylphis very greatly, for why I know not in sooth, yet they tryed to plumb by thoughts on this matter in such wise as they were able.
Of divers other Matters, concerning the country of their origin (a Monstrous Spacious place), their hope in being Heere, their reasons for selecting me as their medium, &d the question which vexd the Parson so, as to whether they touched Redemption through CHRIST or through someother force, or whether Redemption was utterly deny’d them: these things I once knew, but with the passage of time (now amounting to almost a full Yeare) I find them more cloudy in my remembrance than hitherto. Yet I recall that once I knew of them, &d this thought comforteth me.
As the dawne turn’d the eastern sky from a broad shene of black to rose skinne of such pinkness as a young girl’s cheekes,
so I found myself alone, for the Sylphis had departed. I was lying beside the river, amongst the dewy grass. Yet was I still strong, &d remaine so to this day: the mewling infans that had once been Me was now banish’d &d gone away. I felt a potentcy in my limbs &d muscles now. Sainct Peter may deliver us from death, ye as me. I looked about me &d breathed the river aire as if for the first time. Theere, on the grass, was the Parson, who had fall’n into a Swoon; &d tho I lifted him &d lent him againest a Tree, yet was he obnoxious to rescuscitation, for his throat was sorely blackn’d &d bruis’d. Theere was still breath in his lungs, &d so I left him.
My chief concern then became the Parson’s fellowe conspirators, that had been on the farside of the river, for they had come bye in the dark houres of the night &d I had reach’d them with some reaching-forth of myself, an Ec-stateis, &d perchance harm’d them sorely. But my mind lack’d the reache of the night, &d tho I liked it not I took to the river, wading, cold as ice and cold as death, and flynching I walkd &d then swimming to the far side. Heere, after half &d houre of searching, I found the pair of them lying in the long grass as if sleeping. Yet it was the sleepe fro which no Man wakes, &d their bodies were quaintly slack beneath their cloathes, as if theere had been some crushing of their bones within their boddies, as the Giant boasteth he will do in the Tale told to Children of Jack &d the Beanstalke. At this discovery I was incommoded, for they seem’d fair gentlemen, well-dressed in velvet jackets &d molescin breeches &d with their hair longe &d oiled with sweetsmelling oils. Yet theere was no helping them, &d I loathe to splash twise in the River (which, to be truthful, was a-shocking cold, tho it was almost Summer) trailed my way along the bank to the bridge, some mile away. Indeed, howe the gentlemen had plann’d in crossing the River to our side I do know not, unless they hop’d the Sylphis would carry them thro’ the aire, for they had no Boat. But perhaps they had had no intent to cross the river that night. I know not.
Coming back along the road to my lord the Judge Newbolt his house, it was well advanc’d morning as I arrived. The sunne had warmed me &d I was drie as any sech upon arrival. &d I found that I had been barely miss’d, tho the doorman was surpriz’d to see me knocking at the outer door so early in the day. Have you been out my lad? he asked.
Verily as far out as Saint Peter himself, I replied to him.
As I broke my fast solitary in the kitchen upon a Heele of Bread &d some cheese &d tripe, so a commotion was gotten up in the house at large, for the Parson had been discovered by a Boy going to the river to fish for my lord the Judge’s breakfast, &d theereafter he was carried in to the House upon a board, breathing heavie like a bottomsawyer cutting woode, yet stille senseless &d nerveless to command, his eyes lolling shut &d his limbes fluid. A Clamor ran through the servants quarters that footpads had strucke him in the night, &d the Judge’s two strongest laddes went running to the Lands with staffs to sniffe them out, or so they said. But this meerely increased the Panic, for they swiftwise chanced upon the boddies of the two further men whose bones were all porriged. These corses were left where they laye, across the river, &d one ran off to fetch the Justice of the Peace from Maidenhead, whilst another gatheered all the servants together to tell the tale, with much round-eying &d hulla-bulla-ing. The maids shrieked &d threw their Aprons over their heads, &d the chiefe gardener, who was a man scored with age &d weather’d like a log, call’d aloud that the End Times were heere, for he had seen nothing so foule in all his days. None thought of me, for my reputation was of a mewling sprat, &d in this disguise I was free of suspicion. So the constable came, &d the Justice too, &d anon they fetched a surgeon to examine the boddies (the two having been brought at last to the cold store), &d to examine the Parson too. But nothing could this surgeon determine, &d the buzz-buzz in the House did not diminish until after sunset, &d sleepe.
To my roome in the darke, I considered the Matter of Justice against Revenge, this latter being of the LORD’s alone, &d not for mortals to arrogate to themselves, the former being the duty of all men. Yet had I not been ill-used? Tho when I put this point, or thought so to do, to the Sylphis, they answer’d not to the purpose, perhap mistaking my question: &d replying that twas not a matter of faulte, but that some twist in the braine was the cause of the effecte that Time was improperly parcell’d out, with divers grievous consequences for all human kinde; or els that the approach to the truth of all things caused ripples or tourbillons in time itself, such as set moments at three decades, and eighty-seven years, and fifty plus eighty-seven, and so on. This answered not my question, viz., should I revel in my newfound-strength &d punnish those who had evilly us’d me, or do not so? Nor could I rightly understand their point; altho truly they were greatly fascinated with the arid business of clockwork time &d other sorts.
In my roome that darke I did essay my new Skille, &d thought to reach out &d squash certaine buggs &d insects that troubled the chamber, yet could I manage no purchase upon them, for it was as if I try’d to pluck up pecks of Duste with the ball of my Foote, I could not. Then I tried again, with two pigeon that mew’d &d burbl’d in an Oake outside the window, yet though I could apprehend their Being, as were I to smoothe a bolt of silk with my palme &d come upon a pea beneath, but I could not grasp upon this. As a final essay I reached through the door of my roome, for foorsteps alerted me, &d I fell at once upon a living human corpus around which my fingers, as it were, fell at once, &d in the joy of so easily recovering this skill I almost squeez’d the air from the soggie Bellows within the barrel-hoops of his chest, yet did I withhold myself, for I sens’d that this was my lorde the Judge.
He gasping, did pause without the doore for some minutes, before coming through &d looked fluster’d, declaring that he had felt a curious turne upon the stair, as though some ruffian did clasp my chest &d would have done me away, as those poore men were murthered.
Yet you are well, my lord? I asked.
Strange times, my boy, he said, &d brought his candle to my bedside, &d sat himself upon it. A strange day, &d the Parson still a catalept – Jane declares that a spell has been placed upon him, &d that witchcraft is about the house.
He wept to say this, and hid his face in his hands.
I did gaze upon my mast.r, James Newbolt, &d tho I had often seen him cruell or indifferent, &d sometime seen him tender toward me or remorsefull, yet had I never seen him so tired &d afeared. My minde still revolving in this question of the fitness of Revenge, I was surprized in myself to see this figure, formerly one of such tyranny in my life, now reduc’d so far. Yea even his frame seem’d shrunken, as if suddenly aged, &d I felt the kindling of pitie. He spoke to me in a low voyce for a time, not meeting my eyes, &d then he reach’d out &d lay his Hande upon my chest, wheere I satt in the bed. At this gesture my anger again ripen’d, &d the memory of many ill-usages crowded my thoughts, such that had he attempted to use me, as he had formerly, in that time I daresay I would have injur’d &d perhap kill’d him outright. But he did not, &d his Hand upon my breast was tender, &d then he withdrew it &d look’d into my eyes as a Father might a lov’d sonne, &d did say My Boy I have a thing for you. &d reach’d in his purse &d drew out a solid gold penny, such as he had given me once before.
This was not expected, my lorde, I said as I tooke it. Yet was I gladly mov’d to see it againe.
He said nothing for a while, yet gazed at the flame of the candle, which moved slow upon its wick like a butterflie of Light tucking up its wings, &d putt me in mind, in some small manner, of the Sylphis themselves.
I know that Mistr.s Anne tooke this penny from you, he said, &d I am sorry for it. At that time I tooke it fro her &d did mean to returne it, yet something stayed my Hand.
It matters not, I said, for it is but a penny.
At this he look’d at me againe, as if he mark’d the change in my manner, from feebleness to strength. Yet habit was stronger in him, &d he look’d away again. The worth of a thing may not to be determined by how it is labell’d, he said. And is gold itself by valued by custom,
as is the custom that declares one pennie to buy one small loaf? O! O! I confess to you, my boy, that for a while I held back the gift againe, as though I could only see your outer worth. I thought thee an adornment for my life, an no more need’d to smoothe you with gifts than a horse or sideboard. Thou wert as a Guinea made of woode, or so I thought, &d I beg thee for thy pardon.
This amaz’d me much, but I kept my counsel.
After ye fell into the fire &d your lookes ruin’d, he said, snatching another Glimpse at me, I was at first disgusted &d wanted thee sent away. But the Parson perswaded me, speaking of hidden worths, &d suchanlike. He convinced me, to my shame, although I saw those worths onlie in the shape of my own lust. &d great, &d strange, were the glories he promis’d me. Yet tho I look at thee in thy ugliness, my boy, still theere is a place in my soule mov’d by thee – never before, in all my longe life, nay not with my wedded wife or with the Ganymeedes I have known, has theere been this twist in my soule at the presence of another. It disturbs me, my boy, yet I cannot remove it. I had thought to playe you as a true Sonne, as a Father might, but my feelings are not Paternal, &d ’twould be meerely a lie to declare them as such. Yet my flesh recoils from your – from your – (I saw heere that he was crying) – so pucker’d &d wrinkl’d, O! it maketh my flesh to shudder – I’m sorry for thee, lad. &d in sooth your right side is barely touch’d. Yet – yet. The Parson promis’d much, &d even, he swore, theere was a way— But I have sinn’d. Sinn’d! O the Parson his Affliction has mov’d me strangely, &d I finde myself driven to Repentance of my former Crimes. For what &d if GOD Himself has punished the Parson with this catalepsy? &d so my son, he concluded &d rising from the bed in teares, I am sorry, am sorry, &d heere is the coine againe.
He lean’d in &d kiss’d me, once, upon the browe, &d then he departed &d taking the light with him left me in the darkness. I clutch’d the penny to my selfe &d lay down, &d as I lay I ponder’d that Mercy had prevail’d, when had my lord try’d to use me as I were his Wife, then Revenge would surely have ensu’d.