[-PART NINE-]
{+Chapter Nine+}
We have not written for many days. We did not wish to speak. For
we needed no words to remember that which has happened to us.
It was on our second day in the forest that we heard steps behind
us. We hid in the bushes, and we waited. The steps came closer.
And then we saw the fold of a white tunic among the trees, and a
gleam of gold.
We leapt forward, we ran to them, and we stood looking upon the
Golden One.
They saw us, and their hands closed into fists, and the fists
pulled their arms down, as if they wished their arms to hold
them, while their body swayed. And they could not speak.
We dared not come too close to them. We asked, and our voice
trembled:
"How [-did you-] come {+you+} to be here, Golden One?"
{+But they whispered only:+}
"We have found you. . . ."
"How [-did you-] come {+you+} to be in the forest?" we asked.
They raised their head, and there was a great pride in their
voice; they answered:
"We have followed you."
Then we could not speak, and they said:
"We heard that you had gone to the Uncharted Forest, for the
whole City is speaking of it. So on the night of the day when we
heard it, we ran away from the Home of the Peasants. We found the
marks of your feet across the plain where no men walk. So we
followed them, and we went into the forest, and we followed
the path where the branches were broken by your body."
Their white tunic was torn, and the branches had cut the skin of
their arms, but they spoke as if they had never taken notice of
it, nor of weariness, nor of fear.
"We have followed you," they said, "and we shall follow you
wherever you go. If danger threatens you, we shall face it also.
If it be death, we shall die with you. You are damned, and we
wish to share your damnation."
They looked upon us, and their voice was low, but there was
bitterness and triumph in their [-voice.-] {+voice:+}
"Your eyes are as a flame, but our brothers have neither hope nor
fire. Your mouth is cut of granite, but our brothers are soft and
humble. Your head is high, but our brothers cringe. You walk, but
our brothers crawl. We wish to be damned with you, rather than [-pleased-] {+be
blessed+} with all our brothers. Do as you please with us, but do
not send us away from you."
Then they knelt, and bowed their golden head before us.
We had never thought of that which we did. We bent to raise the
Golden One to their feet, but when we touched them, it was as if
madness had stricken us. We seized their body and we pressed our
lips to theirs. The Golden One breathed once, and their breath
was a moan, and then their arms closed around us.
We stood together for a long time. And we were frightened that we
had lived for twenty-one years and had never known what joy is
possible to men.
Then we said:
"Our dearest one. Fear nothing of the forest. There is no danger
in solitude. We have no need of our brothers. Let us forget their
good and our evil, let us forget all things save that we are
together and that there is joy [-as a bond-] between us. Give us your hand.
Look ahead. It is our own world, Golden One, a strange, unknown
world, but our own."
Then we walked on into the forest, their hand in ours.
And that night we knew that to hold the body of [-women-] {+a woman+} in our
arms is neither ugly nor shameful, but the one ecstasy granted to
the race of men.
We have walked for many days. The forest has no end, and we seek
no end. But each day added to the chain of days between us and
the City is like an added blessing.
We have made a bow and many arrows. We can kill more birds than
we need for our food; we find water and fruit in the forest. At
night, we choose a clearing, and we build a ring of fires around
it. We sleep in the midst of that ring, and the beasts dare not attack us.
We can see their eyes, green and yellow as coals, watching us
from the tree branches beyond. The fires [-smoulder-] {+smolder+} as a crown
of jewels around us, and smoke stands still in the air, in
columns made blue by the moonlight. We sleep together in the
midst of the ring, the arms of the Golden One around us, their
head upon our breast.
Some day, we shall stop and build a house, when we shall have
gone far enough. But we do not have to hasten. The days before us
are without end, like the forest.
We cannot understand this new life which we have found, yet it
seems so clear and so simple. When questions come to puzzle us,
we walk faster, then turn and forget all things as we watch the
Golden One following. The shadows of leaves fall upon their arms,
as they spread the branches apart, but their shoulders are in the
sun. The skin of their arms is like a blue [-mist.-] {+mist,+} but their
shoulders are white and glowing, as if the light fell not from
above, but rose from under their skin. We watch the leaf which
has fallen upon their shoulder, and it lies at the curve of their
neck, and a drop of dew glistens upon it like a jewel. They
approach us, and they stop, laughing, knowing what we think, and
they wait obediently, without questions, till it pleases us to
turn and go on.
We go on and we bless the earth under our feet. But questions
come to us again, as we walk in silence. If that which we have
found is the corruption of solitude, then what can men wish for
save corruption? If this is the great evil of being alone, then
what is good and what is evil?
Everything which comes from the many is good. Everything which
comes from one is evil.
[-This have-] {+Thus+} we {+have+} been taught with our first
breath. We have broken the law, but we have never doubted it. Yet
now, as we walk [-through-] the forest, we are learning to doubt.
There is no life for men, save in useful toil for the good of [-all-]
their brothers. But we lived not, when we toiled for our
brothers, we were only weary. There is no joy for men, save the
joy shared with all their brothers. But the only things which
taught us joy were the power [-we-] created in our wires, and the Golden
One. And both these joys belong to us alone, they come from us
alone, they bear no relation to [-all-] our brothers, and they do not
concern our brothers in any way. Thus do we wonder.
There is some error, one frightful error, in the thinking of men.
What is that error? We do not know, but the knowledge struggles
within us, struggles to be born.
Today, the Golden One stopped suddenly and said:
"We love you."
But {+then+} they frowned and shook their head and looked at us
helplessly.
"No," they whispered, "that is not what we wished to say."
They were silent, then they spoke slowly, and their words were
halting, like the words of a child learning to speak for the
first time:
"We are one . . . alone . . . and only . . . and we love you who
are one . . . alone . . . and only."
We looked into each other's eyes and we knew that the breath of a
miracle had touched us, and fled, and left us groping vainly.
And we felt torn, torn for some word we could not find.
