At last, from far far away, came the first murmur3 of sound, that grew and grew till it began to crash and bellow4 in the distance. As she heard it, Ayesha swiftly threw off her gauzy wrapping, loosened the golden snake from her kirtle, and then, shaking her lovely hair about her like a garment, beneath its cover slipped the kirtle off and replaced the snaky belt around her and outside the masses of her falling hair. There she stood before us as Eve might have stood before Adam, clad in nothing but her abundant locks, held round her by the golden band; and no words of mine can tell how sweet she looked—and yet how divine. Nearer and nearer came the thunder-wheels of fire, and as they came she pushed one ivory arm through the dark masses of her hair and flung it round Leo’s neck.
“Oh, my love, my love!” she murmured, “wilt thou ever know how I have loved thee?” and she kissed him on the forehead, and then went and stood in the pathway of the flame of Life.
There was, I remember, to my mind something very touching5 about her words and that embrace upon the forehead. It was like a mother’s kiss, and seemed to convey a benediction6 with it.
On came the crashing, rolling noise, and the sound of it was as the sound of a forest being swept flat by a mighty7 wind, and then tossed up like so much grass, and thundered down a mountain-side. Nearer and nearer it came; now flashes of light, forerunners8 of the revolving9 pillar of flame, were passing like arrows through the rosy10 air; and now the edge of the pillar itself appeared. Ayesha turned towards it, and stretched out her arms to greet it. On it came very slowly, and lapped her round with flame. I saw the fire run up her form. I saw her lift it with both hands as though it were water, and pour it over her head. I even saw her open her mouth and draw it down into her lungs, and a dread11 and wonderful sight it was.
Then she paused, and stretched out her arms, and stood there quite still, with a heavenly smile upon her face, as though she were the very Spirit of the Flame.
The mysterious fire played up and down her dark and rolling locks, twining and twisting itself through and around them like threads of golden lace; it gleamed upon her ivory breast and shoulder, from which the hair had slipped aside; it slid along her pillared throat and delicate features, and seemed to find a home in the glorious eyes that shone and shone, more brightly even than the spiritual essence.
Oh, how beautiful she looked there in the flame! No angel out of heaven could have worn a greater loveliness. Even now my heart faints before the recollection of it, as she stood and smiled at our awed12 faces, and I would give half my remaining time upon this earth to see her once like that again.
But suddenly—more suddenly than I can describe—a kind of change came over her face, a change which I could not define or explain, but none the less a change. The smile vanished, and in its place there came a dry, hard look; the rounded face seemed to grow pinched, as though some great anxiety were leaving its impress upon it. The glorious eyes, too, lost their light, and, as I thought, the form its perfect shape and erectness13.
I rubbed my eyes, thinking that I was the victim of some hallucination, or that the refraction from the intense light produced an optical delusion14; and, as I did so, the flaming pillar slowly twisted and thundered off whithersoever it passes to in the bowels15 of the great earth, leaving Ayesha standing16 where it had been.
As soon as it was gone, she stepped forward to Leo’s side—it seemed to me that there was no spring in her step—and stretched out her hand to lay it on his shoulder. I gazed at her arm. Where was its wonderful roundness and beauty? It was getting thin and angular. And her face—by Heaven!—her face was growing old before my eyes! I suppose that Leo saw it also; certainly he recoiled17 a step or two.
“What is it, my Kallikrates?” she said, and her voice—what was the matter with those deep and thrilling notes? They were quite high and cracked.
“Why, what is it—what is it?” she said confusedly. “I feel dazed. Surely the quality of the fire hath not altered. Can the principle of Life alter? Tell me, Kallikrates, is there aught wrong with my eyes? I see not clear,” and she put her hand to her head and touched her hair—and oh, horror of horrors!—it all fell upon the floor.
“Oh, look!—look!—look!” shrieked18 Job, in a shrill19 falsetto of terror, his eyes nearly dropping out of his head, and foam20 upon his lips. “Look!—look!—look! she’s shrivelling up! she’s turning into a monkey!” and down he fell upon the ground, foaming21 and gnashing in a fit.
True enough—I faint even as I write it in the living presence of that terrible recollection—she was shrivelling up; the golden snake that had encircled her gracious form slipped over her hips22 and to the ground; smaller and smaller she grew; her skin changed colour, and in place of the perfect whiteness of its lustre23 it turned dirty brown and yellow, like an piece of withered24 parchment. She felt at her head: the delicate hand was nothing but a claw now, a human talon25 like that of a badly-preserved Egyptian mummy, and then she seemed to realise what kind of change was passing over her, and she shrieked—ah, she shrieked!—she rolled upon the floor and shrieked!
Smaller she grew, and smaller yet, till she was no larger than a monkey. Now the skin was puckered26 into a million wrinkles, and on the shapeless face was the stamp of unutterable age. I never saw anything like it; nobody ever saw anything like the frightful27 age that was graven on that fearful countenance28, no bigger now than that of a two-months’ child, though the skull29 remained the same size, or nearly so, and let all men pray they never may, if they wish to keep their reason.
At last she lay still, or only feebly moving. She, who but two minutes before had gazed upon us the loveliest, noblest, most splendid woman the world has ever seen, she lay still before us, near the masses of her own dark hair, no larger than a big monkey, and hideous30—ah, too hideous for words. And yet, think of this—at that very moment I thought of it—it was the same woman!
She was dying: we saw it, and thanked God—for while she lived she could feel, and what must she have felt? She raised herself upon her bony hands, and blindly gazed around her, swaying her head slowly from side to side as a tortoise does. She could not see, for her whitish eyes were covered with a horny film. Oh, the horrible pathos31 of the sight! But she could still speak.
“Kallikrates,” she said in husky, trembling notes. “Forget me not, Kallikrates. Have pity on my shame; I shall come again, and shall once more be beautiful, I swear it—it is true! Oh—h—h—” and she fell upon her face, and was still.
On the very spot where more than twenty centuries before she had slain32 Kallikrates the priest, she herself fell down and died.
I know not how long we remained thus. Many hours, I suppose. When at last I opened my eyes, the other two were still outstretched upon the floor. The rosy light yet beamed like a celestial33 dawn, and the thunder-wheels of the Spirit of Life yet rolled upon their accustomed track, for as I awoke the great pillar was passing away. There, too, lay the hideous little monkey frame, covered with crinkled yellow parchment, that once had been the glorious She. Alas34! it was no hideous dream—it was an awful and unparalleled fact!
What had happened to bring this shocking change about? Had the nature of the life-giving Fire changed? Did it, perhaps, from time to time send forth35 an essence of Death instead of an essence of Life? Or was it that the frame once charged with its marvellous virtue36 could bear no more, so that were the process repeated—it mattered not at what lapse37 of time—the two impregnations neutralised each other, and left the body on which they acted as it was before it ever came into contact with the very essence of Life? This, and this alone, would account for the sudden and terrible ageing of Ayesha, as the whole length of her two thousand years took effect upon her. I have not the slightest doubt myself but that the frame now lying before me was just what the frame of a woman would be if by any extraordinary means life could be preserved in her till she at length died at the age of two-and-twenty centuries.
But who can tell what had happened? There was the fact. Often since that awful hour I have reflected that it requires no great imagination to see the finger of Providence38 in the matter. Ayesha locked up in her living tomb waiting from age to age for the coming of her lover worked but a small change in the order of the World. But Ayesha strong and happy in her love, clothed in immortal39 youth and goddess beauty, and the wisdom of the centuries, would have revolutionised society, and even perchance have changed the destiny of Mankind. Thus she opposed herself against the eternal law, and, strong though she was, by it was swept back to nothingness—swept back with shame and hideous mockery!
For some minutes I lay faintly turning these terrors over in my mind, while my physical strength came back to me, which it quickly did in that buoyant atmosphere. Then I bethought me of the others, and staggered to my feet, to see if I could arouse them. But first I took up Ayesha’s kirtle and the gauzy scarf with which she had been wont40 to hide her dazzling loveliness from the eyes of men, and, averting41 my head so that I might not look upon it, covered up that dreadful relic42 of the glorious dead, that shocking epitome43 of human beauty and human life. I did this hurriedly, fearing lest Leo should recover, and see it again.
Then, stepping over the perfumed masses of dark hair that lay upon the sand, I stooped down by Job, who was lying upon his face, and turned him over. As I did so his arm fell back in a way that I did not like, and which sent a chill through me, and I glanced sharply at him. One look was enough. Our old and faithful servant was dead. His nerves, already shattered by all he had seen and undergone, had utterly45 broken down beneath this last dire46 sight, and he had died of terror, or in a fit brought on by terror. I had only to look at his face to see it.
It was another blow; but perhaps it may help people to understand how overwhelmingly awful was the experience through which we had passed—we did not feel it much at the time. It seemed quite natural that the poor fellow should be dead. When Leo came to himself, which he did with a groan47 and trembling of the limbs about ten minutes afterwards, and I told him that Job was dead, he merely said, “Oh!” And, mind you, this was from no heartlessness, for he and Job were much attached to each other; and he often talks of him now with the deepest regret and affection. It was only that his nerves would bear no more. A harp44 can give out but a certain quantity of sound, however heavily it is smitten48.
Well, I set myself to recovering Leo, who, to my infinite relief, I found was not dead, but only fainting, and in the end I succeeded, as I have said, and he sat up; and then I saw another dreadful thing. When we entered that awful place his curling hair had been of the ruddiest gold, now it was turning grey, and by the time we reached the outer air it was snow white. Besides, he looked twenty years older.
“What is to be done, old fellow?” he said in a hollow, dead sort of voice, when his mind had cleared a little, and a recollection of what had happened forced itself upon it.
“Try and get out, I suppose,” I answered; “that is, unless you would like to go in there,” and I pointed49 to the column of fire that was once more rolling by.
“I would go in if I were sure that it would kill me,” he said with a little laugh. “It was my cursed hesitation50 that did this. If I had not been doubtful she might never have tried to show me the road. But I am not sure. The fire might have the opposite effect upon me. It might make me immortal; and, old fellow, I have not the patience to wait a couple of thousand years for her to come back again as she did for me. I had rather die when my hour comes—and I should fancy that it isn’t far off either—and go my ways to look for her. Do you go in if you like.”
But I merely shook my head, my excitement was as dead as ditch-water, and my distaste for the prolongation of my mortal span had come back upon me more strongly than ever. Besides, we neither of us knew what the effects of the fire might be. The result upon She had not been of an encouraging nature, and of the exact causes that produced that result we were, of course, ignorant.
“Well, my boy,” I said, “we cannot stop here till we go the way of those two,” and I pointed to the little heap under the white garment and to the stiffing corpse51 of poor Job. “If we are going we had better go. But, by the way, I expect that the lamps have burnt out,” and I took one up and looked at it, and sure enough it had.
“There is some more oil in the vase,” said Leo indifferently—“if it is not broken, at least.”
I examined the vessel52 in question—it was intact. With a trembling hand I filled the lamps—luckily there was still some of the linen53 wick unburnt. Then I lit them with one of our wax matches. While I did so we heard the pillar of fire approaching once more as it went on its never-ending journey, if, indeed, it was the same pillar that passed and repassed in a circle.
“Let’s see it come once more,” said Leo; “we shall never look upon its like again in this world.”
It seemed a bit of idle curiosity, but somehow I shared it, and so we waited till, turning slowly round upon its own axis54, it had flamed and thundered by; and I remember wondering for how many thousands of years this same phenomenon had been taking place in the bowels of the earth, and for how many more thousands it would continue to take place. I wondered also if any mortal eyes would ever again mark its passage, or any mortal ears be thrilled and fascinated by the swelling55 volume of its majestic56 sound. I do not think that they will. I believe that we are the last human beings who will ever see that unearthly sight. Presently it had gone, and we too turned to go.
But before we did so we each took Job’s cold hand in ours and shook it. It was a rather ghastly ceremony, but it was the only means in our power of showing our respect to the faithful dead and of celebrating his obsequies. The heap beneath the white garment we did not uncover. We had no wish to look upon that terrible sight again. But we went to the pile of rippling57 hair that had fallen from her in the agony of that hideous change which was worse than a thousand natural deaths, and each of us drew from it a shining lock, and these locks we still have, the sole memento58 that is left to us of Ayesha as we knew her in the fulness of her grace and glory. Leo pressed the perfumed hair to his lips.
“She called to me not to forget her,” he said hoarsely59; “and swore that we should meet again. By Heaven! I never will forget her. Here I swear that if we live to get out of this, I will not for all my days have anything to say to another living woman, and that wherever I go I will wait for her as faithfully as she waited for me.”
“Yes,” I thought to myself, “if she comes back as beautiful as we knew her. But supposing she came back like that!”[*]
[*] What a terrifying reflection it is, by the way, that
nearly all our deep love for women who are not our kindred
depends—at any rate, in the first instance—upon their
personal appearance. If we lost them, and found them again
dreadful to look on, though otherwise they were the very
same, should we still love them? —L. H. H.
Well, and then we went. We went, and left those two in the presence of the very well and spring of Life, but gathered to the cold company of Death. How lonely they looked as they lay there, and how ill assorted60! That little heap had been for two thousand years the wisest, loveliest, proudest creature—I can hardly call her woman—in the whole universe. She had been wicked, too, in her way; but, alas! such is the frailty61 of the human heart, her wickedness had not detracted from her charm. Indeed, I am by no means certain that it did not add to it. It was after all of a grand order, there was nothing mean or small about Ayesha.
And poor Job too! His presentiment62 had come true, and there was an end of him. Well, he has a strange burial-place—no Norfolk hind63 ever had a stranger, or ever will; and it is something to lie in the same sepulchre as the poor remains64 of the imperial She.
We looked our last upon them and the indescribable rosy glow in which they lay, and then with hearts far too heavy for words we left them, and crept thence broken-down men—so broken down that we even renounced65 the chance of practically immortal life, because all that made life valuable had gone from us, and we knew even then that to prolong our days indefinitely would only be to prolong our sufferings. For we felt—yes, both of us—that having once looked Ayesha in the eyes, we could not forget her for ever and ever while memory and identity remained. We both loved her now and for all time, she was stamped and carven on our hearts, and no other woman or interest could ever raze66 that splendid die. And I—there lies the sting—I had and have no right to think thus of her. As she told me, I was naught67 to her, and never shall be through the unfathomed depths of Time, unless, indeed, conditions alter, and a day comes at last when two men may love one woman, and all three be happy in the fact. It is the only hope of my broken-heartedness, and a rather faint one. Beyond it I have nothing. I have paid down this heavy price, all that I am worth here and hereafter, and that is my sole reward. With Leo it is different, and often and often I bitterly envy him his happy lot, for if She was right, and her wisdom and knowledge did not fail her at the last, which, arguing from the precedent68 of her own case, I think most unlikely, he has some future to look forward to. But I have none, and yet—mark the folly69 and the weakness of the human heart, and let him who is wise learn wisdom from it—yet I would not have it otherwise. I mean that I am content to give what I have given and must always give, and take in payment those crumbs70 that fall from my mistress’s table, the memory of a few kind words, the hope one day in the far undreamed future of a sweet smile or two of recognition, a little gentle friendship, and a little show of thanks for my devotion to her—and Leo.
If that does not constitute true love, I do not know what does, and all I have to say is that it is a very bad state of affairs for a man on the wrong side of middle age to fall into.
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1
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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bellow
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| v.吼叫，怒吼；大声发出，大声喝道 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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benediction
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| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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forerunners
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| n.先驱( forerunner的名词复数 )；开路人；先兆；前兆 | |
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revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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erectness
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| n.直立 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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bowels
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| n.肠，内脏，内部；肠( bowel的名词复数 )；内部，最深处 | |
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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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recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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talon
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| n.爪；（如爪般的）手指；爪状物 | |
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puckered
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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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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celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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averting
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| 防止，避免( avert的现在分词 )； 转移 | |
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relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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epitome
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| n.典型，梗概 | |
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harp
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| n.竖琴；天琴座 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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47
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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smitten
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| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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51
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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52
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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53
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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axis
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| n.轴，轴线，中心线；坐标轴，基准线 | |
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55
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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memento
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| n.纪念品，令人回忆的东西 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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assorted
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| adj.各种各样的，各色俱备的 | |
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frailty
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| n.脆弱；意志薄弱 | |
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presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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renounced
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| v.声明放弃( renounce的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布放弃；宣布与…决裂；宣布摒弃 | |
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raze
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| vt.铲平，把(城市、房屋等)夷为平地，拆毁 | |
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naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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precedent
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| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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