CHAPTER XVI
A GRUESOME DANCE
I rose to resume my journey, and walked many a desert mile. How
I longed for a mountain, or even a tall rock, from whose summit I
might see across the dismal plain or the dried-up channels to some
bordering hope! Yet what could such foresight have availed me?
That which is within a man, not that which lies beyond his vision,
is the main factor in what is about to befall him: the operation
upon him is the event. Foreseeing is not understanding, else surely
the prophecy latent in man would come oftener to the surface!
The sun was half-way to the horizon when I saw before me a rugged
rocky ascent; but ere I reached it my desire to climb was over, and
I longed to lie down. By that time the sun was almost set, and the
air had begun to grow dark. At my feet lay a carpet of softest,
greenest moss, couch for a king: I threw myself upon it, and
weariness at once began to ebb, for, the moment my head was down,
the third time I heard below me many waters, playing broken airs
and ethereal harmonies with the stones of their buried channels.
Loveliest chaos of music-stuff the harp aquarian kept sending up to
my ears! What might not a Händel have done with that ever-recurring
gurgle and bell-like drip, to the mingling and mutually destructive
melodies their common refrain!
As I lay listening, my eyes went wandering up and down the rocky
slope abrupt above me, reading on its face the record that down
there, ages ago, rushed a cataract, filling the channels that had
led me to its foot. My heart swelled at the thought of the splendid
tumult, where the waves danced revelling in helpless fall, to mass
their music in one organ-roar below. But soon the hidden brooks
lulled me to sleep, and their lullabies mingled with my dreams.
I woke before the sun, and eagerly climbed to see what lay beyond.
Alas, nothing but a desert of finest sand! Not a trace was left
of the river that had plunged adown the rocks! The powdery drift
had filled its course to the level of the dreary expanse! As I
looked back I saw that the river had divided into two branches as
it fell, that whose bank I had now followed to the foot of the rocky
scaur, and that which first I crossed to the Evil Wood. The wood
I descried between the two on the far horizon. Before me and to
the left, the desert stretched beyond my vision, but far to the
right I could see a lift in the sky-line, giving hope of the forest
to which my hostess had directed me.
I sat down, and sought in my pocket the half-loaf I had brought with
me--then first to understand what my hostess had meant concerning
it. Verily the bread was not for the morrow: it had shrunk and
hardened to a stone! I threw it away, and set out again.
About noon I came to a few tamarisk and juniper trees, and then to
a few stunted firs. As I went on, closer thickets and larger firs
met me, and at length I was in just such a forest of pines and other
trees as that in which the Little Ones found their babies, and
believed I had returned upon a farther portion of the same. But
what mattered WHERE while EVERYWHERE was the same as NOWHERE! I had
not yet, by doing something in it, made ANYWHERE into a place! I
was not yet alive; I was only dreaming I lived! I was but a
consciousness with an outlook! Truly I had been nothing else in
the world I had left, but now I knew the fact! I said to myself
that if in this forest I should catch the faint gleam of the mirror,
I would turn far aside lest it should entrap me unawares, and give
me back to my old existence: here I might learn to be something by
doing something! I could not endure the thought of going back, with
so many beginnings and not an end achieved. The Little Ones would
meet what fate was appointed them; the awful witch I should never
meet; the dead would ripen and arise without me; I should but wake
to know that I had dreamed, and that all my going was nowhither! I
would rather go on and on than come to such a close!
I went deeper into the wood: I was weary, and would rest in it.
The trees were now large, and stood in regular, almost geometric,
fashion, with roomy spaces between. There was little undergrowth,
and I could see a long way in every direction. The forest was like
a great church, solemn and silent and empty, for I met nothing on
two feet or four that day. Now and then, it is true, some swift
thing, and again some slow thing, would cross the space on which
my eye happened that moment to settle; but it was always at some
distance, and only enhanced the sense of wideness and vacancy. I
heard a few birds, and saw plenty of butterflies, some of marvellously
gorgeous colouring and combinations of colour, some of a pure and
dazzling whiteness.
Coming to a spot where the pines stood farther apart and gave room
for flowering shrubs, and hoping it a sign of some dwelling near, I
took the direction where yet more and more roses grew, for I was
hungry after the voice and face of my kind--after any live soul,
indeed, human or not, which I might in some measure understand.
What a hell of horror, I thought, to wander alone, a bare existence
never going out of itself, never widening its life in another life,
but, bound with the cords of its poor peculiarities, lying an eternal
prisoner in the dungeon of its own being! I began to learn that it
was impossible to live for oneself even, save in the presence of
others--then, alas, fearfully possible! evil was only through good!
selfishness but a parasite on the tree of life! In my own world
I had the habit of solitary song; here not a crooning murmur ever
parted my lips! There I sang without thinking; here I thought
without singing! there I had never had a bosom-friend; here the
affection of an idiot would be divinely welcome! "If only I had
a dog to love!" I sighed--and regarded with wonder my past self,
which preferred the company of book or pen to that of man or woman;
which, if the author of a tale I was enjoying appeared, would wish
him away that I might return to his story. I had chosen the dead
rather than the living, the thing thought rather than the thing
thinking! "Any man," I said now, "is more than the greatest of
books!" I had not cared for my live brothers and sisters, and now
I was left without even the dead to comfort me!
The wood thinned yet more, and the pines grew yet larger, sending
up huge stems, like columns eager to support the heavens. More
trees of other kinds appeared; the forest was growing richer! The
roses wore now trees, and their flowers of astonishing splendour.
Suddenly I spied what seemed a great house or castle; but its forms
were so strangely indistinct, that I could not be certain it was
more than a chance combination of tree-shapes. As I drew nearer,
its lines yet held together, but neither they nor the body of it
grew at all more definite; and when at length I stood in front of
it, I remained as doubtful of its nature as before. House or castle
habitable, it certainly was not; it might be a ruin overgrown with
ivy and roses! Yet of building hid in the foliage, not the poorest
wall-remnant could I discern. Again and again I seemed to descry what
must be building, but it always vanished before closer inspection.
Could it be, I pondered, that the ivy had embraced a huge edifice
and consumed it, and its interlaced branches retained the shapes of
the walls it had assimilated?--I could be sure of nothing concerning
the appearance.
Before me was a rectangular vacancy--the ghost of a doorway without
a door: I stepped through it, and found myself in an open space like
a great hall, its floor covered with grass and flowers, its walls
and roof of ivy and vine, mingled with roses.
There could be no better place in which to pass the night! I
gathered a quantity of withered leaves, laid them in a corner, and
threw myself upon them. A red sunset filled the hall, the night
was warm, and my couch restful; I lay gazing up at the live ceiling,
with its tracery of branches and twigs, its clouds of foliage, and
peeping patches of loftier roof. My eyes went wading about as if
tangled in it, until the sun was down, and the sky beginning to grow
dark. Then the red roses turned black, and soon the yellow and
white alone were visible. When they vanished, the stars came instead,
hanging in the leaves like live topazes, throbbing and sparkling
and flashing many colours: I was canopied with a tree from Aladdin's
cave!
Then I discovered that it was full of nests, whence tiny heads,
nearly indistinguishable, kept popping out with a chirp or two, and
disappearing again. For a while there were rustlings and stirrings
and little prayers; but as the darkness grew, the small heads became
still, and at last every feathered mother had her brood quiet
under her wings, the talk in the little beds was over, and God's
bird-nursery at rest beneath the waves of sleep. Once more a few
flutterings made me look up: an owl went sailing across. I had only
a glimpse of him, but several times felt the cool wafture of his
silent wings. The mother birds did not move again; they saw that
he was looking for mice, not children.
About midnight I came wide awake, roused by a revelry, whose noises
were yet not loud. Neither were they distant; they were close to
me, but attenuate. My eyes were so dazzled, however, that for a
while I could see nothing; at last they came to themselves.
I was lying on my withered leaves in the corner of a splendid hall.
Before me was a crowd of gorgeously dressed men and gracefully robed
women, none of whom seemed to see me. In dance after dance they
vaguely embodied the story of life, its meetings, its passions, its
partings. A student of Shakspere, I had learned something of every
dance alluded to in his plays, and hence partially understood several
of those I now saw--the minuet, the pavin, the hey, the coranto,
the lavolta. The dancers were attired in fashion as ancient as
their dances.
A moon had risen while I slept, and was shining through the
countless-windowed roof; but her light was crossed by so many
shadows that at first I could distinguish almost nothing of the
faces of the multitude; I could not fail, however, to perceive
that there was something odd about them: I sat up to see them
better.--Heavens! could I call them faces? They were skull fronts!
--hard, gleaming bone, bare jaws, truncated noses, lipless teeth
which could no more take part in any smile! Of these, some flashed
set and white and murderous; others were clouded with decay, broken
and gapped, coloured of the earth in which they seemed so long to
have lain! Fearfuller yet, the eye-sockets were not empty; in each
was a lidless living eye! In those wrecks of faces, glowed or
flashed or sparkled eyes of every colour, shape, and expression. The
beautiful, proud eye, dark and lustrous, condescending to whatever
it rested upon, was the more terrible; the lovely, languishing eye,
the more repulsive; while the dim, sad eyes, less at variance with
their setting, were sad exceedingly, and drew the heart in spite of
the horror out of which they gazed.
I rose and went among the apparitions, eager to understand something
of their being and belongings. Were they souls, or were they and
their rhythmic motions but phantasms of what had been? By look
nor by gesture, not by slightest break in the measure, did they
show themselves aware of me; I was not present to them: how much were
they in relation to each other? Surely they saw their companions
as I saw them! Or was each only dreaming itself and the rest?
Did they know each how they appeared to the others--a death with
living eyes? Had they used their faces, not for communication,
not to utter thought and feeling, not to share existence with their
neighbours, but to appear what they wished to appear, and conceal
what they were? and, having made their faces masks, were they
therefore deprived of those masks, and condemned to go without faces
until they repented?
"How long must they flaunt their facelessness in faceless eyes?" I
wondered. "How long will the frightful punition endure? Have they
at length begun to love and be wise? Have they yet yielded to the
shame that has found them?"
I heard not a word, saw not a movement of one naked mouth. Were
they because of lying bereft of speech? With their eyes they spoke
as if longing to be understood: was it truth or was it falsehood
that spoke in their eyes? They seemed to know one another: did
they see one skull beautiful, and another plain? Difference must
be there, and they had had long study of skulls!
My body was to theirs no obstacle: was I a body, and were they but
forms? or was I but a form, and were they bodies? The moment one
of the dancers came close against me, that moment he or she was
on the other side of me, and I could tell, without seeing, which,
whether man or woman, had passed through my house.
On many of the skulls the hair held its place, and however dressed,
or in itself however beautiful, to my eyes looked frightful on the
bones of the forehead and temples. In such case, the outer ear
often remained also, and at its tip, the jewel of the ear as Sidney
calls it, would hang, glimmering, gleaming, or sparkling, pearl or
opal or diamond--under the night of brown or of raven locks, the
sunrise of golden ripples, or the moonshine of pale, interclouded,
fluffy cirri--lichenous all on the ivory-white or damp-yellow naked
bone. I looked down and saw the daintily domed instep; I looked
up and saw the plump shoulders basing the spring of the round full
neck--which withered at half-height to the fluted shaft of a gibbose
cranium.
The music became wilder, the dance faster and faster; eyes flared
and flashed, jewels twinkled and glittered, casting colour and fire
on the pallid grins that glode through the hall, weaving a ghastly
rhythmic woof in intricate maze of multitudinous motion, when sudden
came a pause, and every eye turned to the same spot:--in the doorway
stood a woman, perfect in form, in holding, and in hue, regarding
the company as from the pedestal of a goddess, while the dancers
stood "like one forbid," frozen to a new death by the vision of a
life that killed. "Dead things, I live!" said her scornful glance.
Then, at once, like leaves in which an instant wind awakes, they
turned each to another, and broke afresh into melodious consorted
motion, a new expression in their eyes, late solitary, now filled
with the interchange of a common triumph. "Thou also," they seemed
to say, "wilt soon become weak as we! thou wilt soon become like
unto us!" I turned mine again to the woman--and saw upon her side
a small dark shadow.
She had seen the change in the dead stare; she looked down; she
understood the talking eyes; she pressed both her lovely hands on
the shadow, gave a smothered cry, and fled. The birds moved rustling
in their nests, and a flash of joy lit up the eyes of the dancers,
when suddenly a warm wind, growing in strength as it swept through
the place, blew out every light. But the low moon yet glimmered
on the horizon with "sick assay" to shine, and a turbid radiance
yet gleamed from so many eyes, that I saw well enough what followed.
As if each shape had been but a snow-image, it began to fall to
pieces, ruining in the warm wind. In papery flakes the flesh peeled
from its bones, dropping like soiled snow from under its garments;
these fell fluttering in rags and strips, and the whole white
skeleton, emerging from garment and flesh together, stood bare and
lank amid the decay that littered the floor. A faint rattling
shiver went through the naked company; pair after pair the lamping
eyes went out; and the darkness grew round me with the loneliness.
For a moment the leaves were still swept fluttering all one way;
then the wind ceased, and the owl floated silent through the silent
night.
Not for a moment had I been afraid. It is true that whoever would
cross the threshold of any world, must leave fear behind him; but,
for myself, I could claim no part in its absence. No conscious
courage was operant in me; simply, I was not afraid. I neither
knew why I was not afraid, nor wherefore I might have been afraid.
I feared not even fear--which of all dangers is the most dangerous.
I went out into the wood, at once to resume my journey. Another
moon was rising, and I turned my face toward it.
