He was standing1 in a wild, bare country. Something about it seemed vaguely2 familiar: the land rose and fell in dull and weary undulations, in a vast circle of dun ploughland and grey meadow, bounded by a dim horizon without promise or hope, dreary3 as a prison wall. The infinite melancholy4 of an autumn evening brooded heavily over all the world, and the sky was hidden by livid clouds.
It all brought back to him some far-off memory, and yet he knew that he gazed on that sad plain for the first time. There was a deep and heavy silence over all; a silence unbroken by so much as the fluttering of a leaf. The trees seemed of a strange shape, and strange were the stunted5 thorns dotted about the broken field in which he stood. A little path at his feet, bordered by the thorn bushes, wandered away to the left into the dim twilight6; it had about it some indefinable air of mystery, as if it must lead one down into a mystic region where all earthly things are forgotten and lost for ever.
He sat down beneath the bare, twisted boughs7 of a great tree and watched the dreary land grow darker and yet darker; he wondered, half-consciously, where he was and how he had come to that place, remembering, faintly, tales of like adventure. A man passed by a familiar wall one day, and opening a door before unnoticed, found himself in a new world of unsurmised and marvellous experiences. Another man shot an arrow farther than any of his friends and became the husband of the fairy. Yet — this was not fairyland; these were rather the sad fields and unhappy graves of the underworld than the abode8 of endless pleasures and undying delights. And yet in all that he saw there was the promise of great wonder.
Only one thing was clear to him. He knew that he was Ambrose, that he had been driven from great and unspeakable joys into miserable9 exile and banishment10. He had come from a far, far place by a hidden way, and darkness had closed about him, and bitter drink and deadly meat were given him, and all gladness was hidden from him. This was all he could remember; and now he was astray, he knew not how or why, in this wild, sad land, and the night descended11 dark upon him.
Suddenly there was, as it were, a cry far away in the shadowy silence, and the thorn bushes began to rustle12 before a shrilling13 wind that rose as the night came down. At this summons the heavy clouds broke up and dispersed14, fleeting15 across the sky, and the pure heaven appeared with the last rose flush of the sunset dying from it, and there shone the silver light of the evening star. Ambrose’s heart was drawn16 up to this light as he gazed: he saw that the star grew greater and greater; it advanced towards him through the air; its beams pierced to his soul as if they were the sound of a silver trumpet17. An ocean of white splendour flowed over him: he dwelt within the star.
It was but for a moment; he was still sitting beneath the tree of the twisted branches. But the sky was now clear and filled with a great peace; the wind had fallen and a more happy light shone on the great plain. Ambrose was thirsty, and then he saw that beside the tree there was a well, half hidden by the arching roots that rose above it. The water was still and shining, as though it were a mirror of black marble, and marking the brim was a great stone on which were cut the letters:
“FONS VITAE IMMORTALIS.”
He rose and, bending over the well, put down his lips to drink, and his soul and body were filled as with a flood of joy. Now he knew that all his days of exile he had borne with pain and grief a heavy, weary body. There had been dolours in every limb and achings in every bone; his feet had dragged upon the ground, slowly, wearily, as the feet of those who go in chains. But dim, broken spectres, miserable shapes and crooked19 images of the world had his eyes seen; for they were eyes bleared with sickness, darkened by the approach of death. Now, indeed, he clearly beheld20 the shining vision of things immortal18. He drank great draughts21 of the dark, glittering water, drinking, it seemed, the light of the reflected stars; and he was filled with life. Every sinew, every muscle, every particle of the deadly flesh shuddered22 and quickened in the communion of that well-water. The nerves and veins23 rejoiced together; all his being leapt with gladness, and as one finger touched another, as he still bent24 over the well, a spasm25 of exquisite26 pleasure quivered and thrilled through his body. His heart throbbed27 with bliss28 that was unendurable; sense and intellect and soul and spirit were, as it were, sublimed29 into one white flame of delight. And all the while it was known to him that these were but the least of the least of the pleasures of the kingdom, but the overrunnings and base tricklings of the great supernal30 cup. He saw, without amazement31, that, though the sun had set, the sky now began to flush and redden as if with the northern light. It was no longer the evening, no longer the time of the procession of the dusky night. The darkness doubtless had passed away in mortal hours while for an infinite moment he tasted immortal drink; and perhaps one drop of that water was endless life. But now it was the preparation for the day. He heard the words:
“Dies venit, dies Tua
In qua reflorent omnia.”
They were uttered within his heart, and he saw that all was being made ready for a great festival. Over everything there was a hush33 of expectation; and as he gazed he knew that he was no longer in that weary land of dun ploughland and grey meadow, of the wild, bare trees and strange stunted thorn bushes. He was on a hillside, lying on the verge34 of a great wood; beneath, in the valley, a brook35 sang faintly under the leaves of the silvery willows36; and beyond, far in the east, a vast wall of rounded mountain rose serene37 towards the sky. All about him was the green world of the leaves: odours of the summer night, deep in the mystic heart of the wood, odours of many flowers, and the cool breath rising from the singing stream mingled38 in his nostrils39. The world whitened to the dawn, and then, as the light grew clear, the rose clouds blossomed in the sky and, answering, the earth seemed to glitter with rose-red sparks and glints of flame. All the east became as a garden of roses, red flowers of living light shone over the mountain, and as the beams of the sun lit up the circle of the earth a bird’s song began from a tree within the wood. Then were heard the modulations of a final and exultant40 ecstasy41, the chant of liberation, a magistral In Exitu; there was the melody of rejoicing trills, of unwearied, glad reiterations of choirs42 ever aspiring44, prophesying45 the coming of the great feast, singing the eternal antiphon.
As the song aspired46 into the heights, so there aspired suddenly before him the walls and pinnacles48 of a great church set upon a high hill. It was far off, and yet as though it were close at hand he saw all the delicate and wonderful imagery cut in its stones. The great door in the west was a miracle: every flower and leaf, every reed and fern, were clustered in the work of the capitals, and in the round arch above moulding within moulding showed all the beasts that God has made. He saw the rose-window, a maze32 of fretted49 tracery, the high lancets of the fair hall, the marvellous buttresses50, set like angels about this holy house, whose pinnacles were as a place of many springing trees. And high above the vast, far-lifted vault51 of the roof rose up the spire47, golden in the light. The bells were ringing for the feast; he heard from within the walls the roll and swell52 and triumph of the organ:
O pius o bonus o placidus sonus hymnus eorum.
He knew not how he had taken his place in this great procession, how, surrounded by ministrants in white, he too bore his part in endless litanies. He knew not through what strange land they passed in their fervent53, admirable order, following their banners and their symbols that glanced on high before them. But that land stood ever, it seemed, in a clear, still air, crowned with golden sunlight; and so there were those who bore great torches of wax, strangely and beautifully adorned54 with golden and vermilion ornaments55. The delicate flame of these tapers56 burned steadily57 in the still sunlight, and the glittering silver censers as they rose and fell tossed a pale cloud into the air. They delayed, now and again, by wayside shrines58, giving thanks for unutterable compassions, and, advancing anew, the blessed company surged onward59, moving to its unknown goal in the far blue mountains that rose beyond the plain. There were faces and shapes of awful beauty about him; he saw those in whose eyes were the undying lamps of heaven, about whose heads the golden hair was as an aureole; and there were they that above the girded vesture of white wore dyed garments, and as they advanced around their feet there was the likeness60 of dim flames.
The great white array had vanished and he was alone. He was tracking a secret path that wound in and out through the thickets61 of a great forest. By solitary62 pools of still water, by great oaks, worlds of green leaves, by fountains and streams of water, by the bubbling, mossy sources of the brooks63 he followed this hidden way, now climbing and now descending64, but still mounting upward, still passing, as he knew, farther and farther from all the habitations of men. Through the green boughs now he saw the shining sea-water; he saw the land of the old saints, all the divisions of the land that men had given to them for God; he saw their churches, and it seemed as if he could hear, very faintly, the noise of the ringing of their holy bells. Then, at last, when he had crossed the Old Road, and had gone by the Lightning-struck Land and the Fisherman’s Well, he found, between the forest and the mountain, a very ancient and little chapel65; and now he heard the bell of the saint ringing clearly and so sweetly that it was as it were the singing of the angels. Within it was very dark and there was silence. He knelt and saw scarcely that the chapel was divided into two parts by a screen that rose up to the round roof. There was a glinting of shapes as if golden figures were painted on this screen, and through the joinings of its beams there streamed out thin needles of white splendour as if within there was a light greater than that of the sun at noonday. And the flesh began to tremble, for all the place was filled with the odours of Paradise, and he heard the ringing of the Holy Bell and the voices of the choir43 that out-sang the Fairy Birds of Rhiannon, crying and proclaiming:
“Glory and praise to the Conqueror66 of Death: to the Fountain of Life Unending.”
Nine times they sang this anthem67, and then the whole place was filled with blinding light. For a door in the screen had been opened, and there came forth68 an old man, all in shining white, on whose head was a gold crown. Before him went one who rang the bell; on each side there were young men with torches; and in his hands he bore the Mystery of Mysteries wrapped about in veils of gold and of all colours, so that it might not be discerned; and so he passed before the screen, and the light of heaven burst forth from that which he held. Then he entered in again by a door that was on the other side, and the Holy Things were hidden.
And Ambrose heard from within an awful voice and the words:
Woe69 and great sorrow are on him, for he hath looked unworthily into the Tremendous Mysteries, and on the Secret Glory which is hidden from the Holy Angels.
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1
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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2
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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3
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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5
stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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6
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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7
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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8
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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9
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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10
banishment
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| n.放逐，驱逐 | |
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11
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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12
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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13
shrilling
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| （声音）尖锐的，刺耳的，高频率的( shrill的现在分词 )； 凄厉 | |
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14
dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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15
fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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16
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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17
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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18
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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19
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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20
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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21
draughts
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| n. <英>国际跳棋 | |
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22
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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23
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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24
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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25
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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26
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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27
throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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28
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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29
sublimed
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| 伟大的( sublime的过去式和过去分词 )； 令人赞叹的； 极端的； 不顾后果的 | |
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30
supernal
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| adj.天堂的，天上的；崇高的 | |
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31
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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32
maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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33
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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34
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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35
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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36
willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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37
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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38
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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39
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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40
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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41
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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42
choirs
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| n.教堂的唱诗班( choir的名词复数 )；唱诗队；公开表演的合唱团；（教堂）唱经楼 | |
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43
choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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44
aspiring
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| adj.有志气的；有抱负的；高耸的v.渴望；追求 | |
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45
prophesying
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的现在分词 ) | |
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46
aspired
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| v.渴望，追求( aspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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48
pinnacles
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| 顶峰( pinnacle的名词复数 )； 顶点； 尖顶； 小尖塔 | |
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49
fretted
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| 焦躁的，附有弦马的，腐蚀的 | |
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50
buttresses
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| n.扶壁，扶垛( buttress的名词复数 )v.用扶壁支撑，加固( buttress的第三人称单数 ) | |
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51
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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52
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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53
fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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54
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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55
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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56
tapers
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| （长形物体的）逐渐变窄( taper的名词复数 )； 微弱的光； 极细的蜡烛 | |
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57
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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58
shrines
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| 圣地，圣坛，神圣场所( shrine的名词复数 ) | |
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59
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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60
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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61
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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62
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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63
brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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64
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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65
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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66
conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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67
anthem
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| n.圣歌，赞美诗，颂歌 | |
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68
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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69
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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