upon him, and his happiness is unbounded.”
“Thy red lips, like worms,
Travel over my cheek.”
— MOTHERWELL.
But as I crossed the space between the foot of the hill and the forest, a vision of another kind delayed my steps. Through an opening to the westward1 flowed, like a stream, the rays of the setting sun, and overflowed2 with a ruddy splendour the open space where I was. And riding as it were down this stream towards me, came a horseman in what appeared red armour3. From frontlet to tail, the horse likewise shone red in the sunset. I felt as if I must have seen the knight4 before; but as he drew near, I could recall no feature of his countenance5. Ere he came up to me, however, I remembered the legend of Sir Percival in the rusty6 armour, which I had left unfinished in the old book in the cottage: it was of Sir Percival that he reminded me. And no wonder; for when he came close up to me, I saw that, from crest8 to heel, the whole surface of his armour was covered with a light rust7. The golden spurs shone, but the iron greaves glowed in the sunlight. The MORNING STAR, which hung from his wrist, glittered and glowed with its silver and bronze. His whole appearance was terrible; but his face did not answer to this appearance. It was sad, even to gloominess; and something of shame seemed to cover it. Yet it was noble and high, though thus beclouded; and the form looked lofty, although the head drooped9, and the whole frame was bowed as with an inward grief. The horse seemed to share in his master’s dejection, and walked spiritless and slow. I noticed, too, that the white plume10 on his helmet was discoloured and drooping11. “He has fallen in a joust12 with spears,” I said to myself; “yet it becomes not a noble knight to be conquered in spirit because his body hath fallen.” He appeared not to observe me, for he was riding past without looking up, and started into a warlike attitude the moment the first sound of my voice reached him. Then a flush, as of shame, covered all of his face that the lifted beaver13 disclosed. He returned my greeting with distant courtesy, and passed on. But suddenly, he reined14 up, sat a moment still, and then turning his horse, rode back to where I stood looking after him.
“I am ashamed,” he said, “to appear a knight, and in such a guise15; but it behoves me to tell you to take warning from me, lest the same evil, in his kind, overtake the singer that has befallen the knight. Hast thou ever read the story of Sir Percival and the”—(here he shuddered16, that his armour rang)—“Maiden of the Alder17-tree?”
“In part, I have,” said I; “for yesterday, at the entrance of this forest, I found in a cottage the volume wherein it is recorded.” “Then take heed,” he rejoined; “for, see my armour — I put it off; and as it befell to him, so has it befallen to me. I that was proud am humble18 now. Yet is she terribly beautiful — beware. Never,” he added, raising his head, “shall this armour be furbished, but by the blows of knightly19 encounter, until the last speck20 has disappeared from every spot where the battle-axe21 and sword of evil-doers, or noble foes22, might fall; when I shall again lift my head, and say to my squire24, ‘Do thy duty once more, and make this armour shine.’”
Before I could inquire further, he had struck spurs into his horse and galloped25 away, shrouded26 from my voice in the noise of his armour. For I called after him, anxious to know more about this fearful enchantress; but in vain — he heard me not. “Yet,” I said to myself, “I have now been often warned; surely I shall be well on my guard; and I am fully28 resolved I shall not be ensnared by any beauty, however beautiful. Doubtless, some one man may escape, and I shall be he.” So I went on into the wood, still hoping to find, in some one of its mysterious recesses29, my lost lady of the marble. The sunny afternoon died into the loveliest twilight30. Great bats began to flit about with their own noiseless flight, seemingly purposeless, because its objects are unseen. The monotonous31 music of the owl32 issued from all unexpected quarters in the half-darkness around me. The glow-worm was alight here and there, burning out into the great universe. The night-hawk heightened all the harmony and stillness with his oft-recurring, discordant33 jar. Numberless unknown sounds came out of the unknown dusk; but all were of twilight-kind, oppressing the heart as with a condensed atmosphere of dreamy undefined love and longing34. The odours of night arose, and bathed me in that luxurious35 mournfulness peculiar36 to them, as if the plants whence they floated had been watered with bygone tears. Earth drew me towards her bosom37; I felt as if I could fall down and kiss her. I forgot I was in Fairy Land, and seemed to be walking in a perfect night of our own old nursing earth. Great stems rose about me, uplifting a thick multitudinous roof above me of branches, and twigs38, and leaves — the bird and insect world uplifted over mine, with its own landscapes, its own thickets40, and paths, and glades41, and dwellings42; its own bird-ways and insect-delights. Great boughs43 crossed my path; great roots based the tree-columns, and mightily44 clasped the earth, strong to lift and strong to uphold. It seemed an old, old forest, perfect in forest ways and pleasures. And when, in the midst of this ecstacy, I remembered that under some close canopy45 of leaves, by some giant stem, or in some mossy cave, or beside some leafy well, sat the lady of the marble, whom my songs had called forth46 into the outer world, waiting (might it not be?) to meet and thank her deliverer in a twilight which would veil her confusion, the whole night became one dream-realm of joy, the central form of which was everywhere present, although unbeheld. Then, remembering how my songs seemed to have called her from the marble, piercing through the pearly shroud27 of alabaster47 —“Why,” thought I, “should not my voice reach her now, through the ebon night that inwraps her.” My voice burst into song so spontaneously that it seemed involuntarily.
“Not a sound
But, echoing in me,
Vibrates all around
With a blind delight,
Till it breaks on Thee,
Queen of Night!
Every tree,
O’ershadowing with gloom,
Seems to cover thee
Secret, dark, love-still’d,
In a holy room
Silence-filled.
“Let no moon
Creep up the heaven to-night;
I in darksome noon
Walking hopefully,
Seek my shrouded light —
Grope for thee!
“Darker grow
The borders of the dark!
Through the branches glow,
From the roof above,
Star and diamond-sparks
Light for love.”
Scarcely had the last sounds floated away from the hearing of my own ears, when I heard instead a low delicious laugh near me. It was not the laugh of one who would not be heard, but the laugh of one who has just received something long and patiently desired — a laugh that ends in a low musical moan. I started, and, turning sideways, saw a dim white figure seated beside an intertwining thicket39 of smaller trees and underwood.
“It is my white lady!” I said, and flung myself on the ground beside her; striving, through the gathering48 darkness, to get a glimpse of the form which had broken its marble prison at my call.
“It is your white lady!” said the sweetest voice, in reply, sending a thrill of speechless delight through a heart which all the love-charms of the preceding day and evening had been tempering for this culminating hour. Yet, if I would have confessed it, there was something either in the sound of the voice, although it seemed sweetness itself, or else in this yielding which awaited no gradation of gentle approaches, that did not vibrate harmoniously49 with the beat of my inward music. And likewise, when, taking her hand in mine, I drew closer to her, looking for the beauty of her face, which, indeed, I found too plenteously, a cold shiver ran through me; but “it is the marble,” I said to myself, and heeded50 it not.
She withdrew her hand from mine, and after that would scarce allow me to touch her. It seemed strange, after the fulness of her first greeting, that she could not trust me to come close to her. Though her words were those of a lover, she kept herself withdrawn51 as if a mile of space interposed between us.
“Why did you run away from me when you woke in the cave?” I said.
“Did I?” she returned. “That was very unkind of me; but I did not know better.”
“I wish I could see you. The night is very dark.”
“So it is. Come to my grotto52. There is light there.”
“Have you another cave, then?”
“Come and see.”
But she did not move until I rose first, and then she was on her feet before I could offer my hand to help her. She came close to my side, and conducted me through the wood. But once or twice, when, involuntarily almost, I was about to put my arm around her as we walked on through the warm gloom, she sprang away several paces, always keeping her face full towards me, and then stood looking at me, slightly stooping, in the attitude of one who fears some half-seen enemy. It was too dark to discern the expression of her face. Then she would return and walk close beside me again, as if nothing had happened. I thought this strange; but, besides that I had almost, as I said before, given up the attempt to account for appearances in Fairy Land, I judged that it would be very unfair to expect from one who had slept so long and had been so suddenly awakened53, a behaviour correspondent to what I might unreflectingly look for. I knew not what she might have been dreaming about. Besides, it was possible that, while her words were free, her sense of touch might be exquisitely54 delicate.
At length, after walking a long way in the woods, we arrived at another thicket, through the intertexture of which was glimmering55 a pale rosy56 light.
“Push aside the branches,” she said, “and make room for us to enter.”
I did as she told me.
“Go in,” she said; “I will follow you.”
I found myself in a little cave
I did as she desired, and found myself in a little cave, not very unlike the marble cave. It was festooned and draperied with all kinds of green that cling to shady rocks. In the furthest corner, half-hidden in leaves, through which it glowed, mingling57 lovely shadows between them, burned a bright rosy flame on a little earthen lamp. The lady glided58 round by the wall from behind me, still keeping her face towards me, and seated herself in the furthest corner, with her back to the lamp, which she hid completely from my view. I then saw indeed a form of perfect loveliness before me. Almost it seemed as if the light of the rose-lamp shone through her (for it could not be reflected from her); such a delicate shade of pink seemed to shadow what in itself must be a marbly whiteness of hue59. I discovered afterwards, however, that there was one thing in it I did not like; which was, that the white part of the eye was tinged60 with the same slight roseate hue as the rest of the form. It is strange that I cannot recall her features; but they, as well as her somewhat girlish figure, left on me simply and only the impression of intense loveliness. I lay down at her feet, and gazed up into her face as I lay. She began, and told me a strange tale, which, likewise, I cannot recollect61; but which, at every turn and every pause, somehow or other fixed62 my eyes and thoughts upon her extreme beauty; seeming always to culminate63 in something that had a relation, revealed or hidden, but always operative, with her own loveliness. I lay entranced. It was a tale which brings back a feeling as of snows and tempests; torrents64 and water-sprites; lovers parted for long, and meeting at last; with a gorgeous summer night to close up the whole. I listened till she and I were blended with the tale; till she and I were the whole history. And we had met at last in this same cave of greenery, while the summer night hung round us heavy with love, and the odours that crept through the silence from the sleeping woods were the only signs of an outer world that invaded our solitude65. What followed I cannot clearly remember. The succeeding horror almost obliterated66 it. I woke as a grey dawn stole into the cave. The damsel had disappeared; but in the shrubbery, at the mouth of the cave, stood a strange horrible object. It looked like an open coffin67 set up on one end; only that the part for the head and neck was defined from the shoulder-part. In fact, it was a rough representation of the human frame, only hollow, as if made of decaying bark torn from a tree.
It had arms, which were only slightly seamed, down from the shoulder-blade by the elbow, as if the bark had healed again from the cut of a knife. But the arms moved, and the hand and the fingers were tearing asunder68 a long silky tress of hair. The thing turned round — it had for a face and front those of my enchantress, but now of a pale greenish hue in the light of the morning, and with dead lustreless69 eyes. In the horror of the moment, another fear invaded me. I put my hand to my waist, and found indeed that my girdle of beech-leaves was gone. Hair again in her hands, she was tearing it fiercely. Once more, as she turned, she laughed a low laugh, but now full of scorn and derision; and then she said, as if to a companion with whom she had been talking while I slept, “There he is; you can take him now.” I lay still, petrified70 with dismay and fear; for I now saw another figure beside her, which, although vague and indistinct, I yet recognised but too well. It was the Ash-tree. My beauty was the Maid of the Alder! and she was giving me, spoiled of my only availing defence, into the hands of my awful foe23. The Ash bent71 his Gorgon-head, and entered the cave. I could not stir. He drew near me. His ghoul-
The ash shuddered and groaned72
eyes and his ghastly face fascinated me. He came stooping, with the hideous73 hand outstretched, like a beast of prey74. I had given myself up to a death of unfathomable horror, when, suddenly, and just as he was on the point of seizing me, the dull, heavy blow of an axe echoed through the wood, followed by others in quick repetition. The Ash shuddered and groaned, withdrew the outstretched hand, retreated backwards75 to the mouth of the cave, then turned and disappeared amongst the trees. The other walking Death looked at me once, with a careless dislike on her beautifully moulded features; then, heedless any more to conceal76 her hollow deformity, turned her frightful77 back and likewise vanished amid the green obscurity without. I lay and wept. The Maid of the Alder-tree had befooled me — nearly slain78 me — in spite of all the warnings I had received from those who knew my danger.
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1
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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2
overflowed
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| 溢出的 | |
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3
armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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4
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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5
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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6
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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7
rust
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| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
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8
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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9
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
plume
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| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
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11
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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12
joust
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| v.马上长枪比武，竞争 | |
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13
beaver
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| n.海狸，河狸 | |
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14
reined
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| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
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15
guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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16
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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17
alder
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| n.赤杨树 | |
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18
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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19
knightly
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| adj. 骑士般的 adv. 骑士般地 | |
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20
speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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21
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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22
foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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23
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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24
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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25
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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26
shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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27
shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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28
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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29
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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30
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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31
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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32
owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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33
discordant
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| adj.不调和的 | |
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34
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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35
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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36
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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37
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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38
twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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39
thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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40
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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41
glades
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| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
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42
dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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43
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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44
mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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45
canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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46
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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47
alabaster
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| adj.雪白的；n.雪花石膏；条纹大理石 | |
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48
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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49
harmoniously
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| 和谐地，调和地 | |
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50
heeded
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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52
grotto
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| n.洞穴 | |
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53
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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54
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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55
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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56
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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57
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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58
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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59
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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60
tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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62
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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63
culminate
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| v.到绝顶，达于极点，达到高潮 | |
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64
torrents
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| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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65
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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66
obliterated
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| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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67
coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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68
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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69
lustreless
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| adj.无光泽的，无光彩的，平淡乏味的 | |
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70
petrified
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| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
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71
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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72
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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73
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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74
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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75
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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76
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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77
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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78
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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