and they whirl
Over each other with a thousand motions."
Prometheus Unbound.—Shelley
He dreamt that he awoke, and found himself not in his comfortable bed in his own room, but in an equally comfortable but much more uncommon2 bed in a very different place. Out on the moor3! He opened his eyes and stared about him in surprise; there were the stars, up overhead, all blinking and winking4 at him as if asking what business a little boy had out there among them all in the middle of the night. And when he did find out where he was, he felt still more surprised at being so warm and cozy5. For he felt perfectly6 so, even though he had neither blankets nor sheets nor pillow, but instead[Pg 44] of all these a complete nest of the softest moss7 all about him. He was lying on it, and it covered him over as perfectly as a bird is covered by its feathers.
"Dear me," he said to himself, "this is very funny. How have I got here, and who has covered me up like this?"
But still he did not feel so excessively surprised as if he had been awake; for in dreams, as everybody knows, any surprise one feels quickly disappears, and one is generally very ready to take things as they come. So he lay still, just quietly gazing about him. And gradually a murmur8 of approaching sound caught his ears. It was like soft voices and fluttering garments and breezes among trees, all mixed together, till as it came nearer the voices detached themselves from the other sounds, and he heard what they were saying.
"Yes, he deserves a treat, poor child," said one in very gentle caressing9 tones; "you have teased him enough, sisters."
"Teased him!" exclaimed another voice, and this time it seemed a familiar one to him; "I tease him! Why, as you well know, it is my mission in life to comfort and console. I don't believe in petting and[Pg 45] praising to the same extent as you do, perhaps—still you cannot say I ever tease. Laugh at him a little now and then, I may. But that does no harm."
"I never pet and praise except when it is deserved," murmured the first voice—and as he heard its soft tones a sort of delicious languor10 seemed to creep over Gratian—"never. But I beg your pardon, sister, if I misjudged you. You can be rigorous sometimes, you know, and——"
"So much the better—so much the better," broke in with clear cutting distinctness another voice; "how would the world go round—that is to say, how would the ships sail and the windmills turn—if we were all four as sweet and silky as you, my golden-winged sister? But it was I who teased the child as you call it—I slapped him on the face; yes, and I am ready to do it again—to sting him sharply, when I think he needs it."
"Right, right—quite right," said another voice, not exactly sharp and clear like the last, yet with a resemblance to it, though deeper and sterner and with a strange cold strength in its accents. "You are his true friend in doing so. I for my part shall always be ready to invigorate and support him—to brace11 him for the battles he must fight. But you,[Pg 46] sister, have a rare gift of correction and of discerning the weak points which may lead to defeat and failure. Yours is an ungrateful task truly, but you are a valuable monitor."
"I must find my satisfaction in such considerations; it is plain I shall never get any elsewhere," replied the former speaker, rather bitterly. "What horrid12 things are said of me, to be sure! Every ache and pain is laid at my door—I am 'neither good for man nor beast,' I am told! and yet—I am not all grim and gray, am I, sisters? There is a rosy13 glow in the trail of my garments if people were not so short-sighted and colour-blind."
"True, indeed, as who knows better than I," said the sweet mellow14 tones of the first speaker. "When you come my way and we dance together, sister, who could be less grim than you?"
"Ah, indeed," said the cold, stern voice, but it sounded less stern now, "then her sharp and biting words came from neighbourhood with me. Ah well—I can bear the reproach."
"I should think so," said the voice which Gratian had recognised, "for you know in your heart, you great icy creature, that you love fun as well as any one. How you do whirl and leap and rush and tear[Pg 47] about, once your spirits really get the better of you! And you have such pretty playthings—your snow-flakes and filigree15 and icicles—none of us can boast such treasures, not to speak of your icebergs16 and crystal palaces, where you hide heaven knows what. My poor waves and foam17, though I allow they are pretty in their way, are nothing to your possessions."
"Never mind all that. I don't grumble18, though I might. What can one do with millions of tons of sand for a toy, I should like to know? And little else comes in my way that I can play catch-and-toss with! I can waft19 my scents20 about, to be sure—there is some pleasure in that. But now for our dance—our rainbow dance, sisters—no need to wake him roughly. We need only kiss his eyelids21."
And Gratian, who had not all this time, strange to say, known that his eyes were closed again, felt across his lids a breeze so fresh and sudden that he naturally unclosed them to see whence it came. And once open he did not feel inclined to shut them again, I can assure you.
The sight before him was so pretty—and not the sight only. For the voices had melted into music—far off at first, then by slow degrees coming nearer; rising, falling, swelling22, sinking, bright with rejoicing[Pg 48] like the song of the lark23, then soft and low as the tones of a mother hushing her baby to sleep, again wildly triumphant24 like a battle strain of victory, and even while you listened changing into the mournful, solemn cadence25 of a dirge26, till at last all mingled27 into a slow, even measure of stately harmony, and the colours which had been weaving themselves in the distance, like a plaited rainbow before the boy's eyes, took definite form as they drew near him.
He saw them then—the four invisible sisters; he saw them, and yet it is hard to tell what he saw! They were distinct and yet vague, separate and yet together. But by degrees he distinguished28 them better. There was his old friend with the floating sea-green-and-blue mantle29, and the streaming fair hair and loving sad eyes, and next her the sister with the golden wings and glowing locks and laughing rosy face, and then a gray shrouded30 nimble figure, which seemed everywhere at once, whose features Gratian could scarcely see, though a pair of bright sparkling eyes flashed out now and then, while sometimes a gleam of radiant red lighted up the grim robe. And in and out in the meshes31 of the dance glided32 the white form of the genius of the north—cold and stately, sparkling as she moved,[Pg 49] though shaded now and then by the steel-blue veil which covered the dusky head. But as the dance went on, the music gradually grew faster and the soft regular movements changed into a quicker measure. In and out the four figures wove and unwove themselves together, and the more quickly they moved the more varied33 and brilliant grew the colours which seemed a part of them, so that each seemed to have all those of the others as well as her own, and Gratian understood why they had spoken of the rainbow dance. Golden-wings glowed with every other shade reflected on her own rich background, the sister from the sea grew warmer with the red and yellow that shone out among the lapping folds of her mantle, with its feather-like trimming of foam, the gray of the East-wind's garments grew ruddier, like the sky before sunrise, and the cold white of the icy North glimmered34 and gleamed like an opal. And faster and faster they danced and glided and whirled about, till Gratian felt as if his breath were going, and that in another moment he would be carried away himself by the rush.
"Stop, stop," he cried at last. "It is beautiful, it is lovely, but my breath is going. Stop."
Instantly the four heads turned towards him, the[Pg 50] four pairs of wings sheathed35 themselves, the eyes, laughing and gentle, piercing and grave, seemed all to be gazing at him at once, and eight outstretched arms seemed as if about to lift him upwards36.
"No—no—" he said, "I don't want—I don't——."
But with the struggle to speak he awoke. He was in his own bed of course, and by the light he saw that it must be nearly time to get up.
He stretched himself sleepily, smiling as he did so.
"What nice dreams I have had," he said to himself. "I wonder if they come of working well at my lessons? They said it was to be a treat for me. I wish I could go to sleep and dream it all over again."
But just then he heard his mother's voice calling up the stair to him.
"Are you up, Gratian? You will be late if you are not quick."
Gratian gave himself a little shake of impatience37 under the bedclothes; he glanced at the window—the sky was gray and overcast38, with every sign of a rainy day about it. He tucked himself up again, even though he knew it was very foolish thus to delay the evil moment.
[Pg 51]
"It's too bad," he thought. "I can never do what I want. Last night I had to go to bed when I wanted to sit up, and now I have to get up when I do so want to stay in bed."
But just at that moment a strange thing happened. The little casement39 window burst open with a bang, and a blast of cold sharp wind dashed into the room, upsetting a chair, scattering40 Gratian's clothes, neatly41 laid together in a little heap, and flinging itself on the bed with a whirl, so that the coverlet took to playing antics in its turn, and the blankets no doubt would have followed its example had Gratian not clutched at them. But all his comfort was destroyed—no possibility of feeling warm and snug42 with the window open and all this uproar43 going on. Gratian sprang up in a rage, and ran to the window. He shut it again easily enough.
"I can't think what made it fly open," he said to himself; "there was no wind in the night, and it never burst open before."
He stood shivering and undecided. Now that the window was shut, bed looked very comfortable again.
"I'll just get in for five minutes," he said to himself; "I'm so shivering cold with that wind, I shan't get warm all day."
[Pg 52]
He turned to the bed, but just as one little foot was raised to get in, lo and behold44, a rattle45 and bang, and again the window burst open! Gratian flew back, it shut obediently as before. But he was now thoroughly46 awakened47 and alert. There was no good going back to bed if he was to be blown out of it in this fashion, and Gratian set to to dress himself, though in a rather surly mood, and keeping an eye on the rebellious48 window the while. But the window behaved quite well—it showed no signs of bursting open, it did not even rattle! and Gratian was ready in good time after all.
"You look cold, my boy," said his mother, when he was seated at table and eating his breakfast.
"The wind blew my window open twice, and it made my room very cold," he replied rather dolefully.
"Blew your window open? That's strange," said his father. "The wind's not in the east this morning, and it's only an east wind that could burst in your window. You can't have shut it properly."
"Yes, father, I did—the first time I shut it just as well as the second, and it didn't blow open after the second time. But I know I shut it well both times. I think it must be in the east, for it felt so sharp when it blew in."
[Pg 53]
"It must have changed quickly then," said the farmer, eyeing the sky through the large old-fashioned kitchen window in front of him. "That's the queer thing hereabouts; many a day if I was put to it to answer, I couldn't say which way the wind was blowing."
"Or which way it wasn't blowing, would be more like it," said Mrs. Conyfer with a smile. "It's to be hoped it'll blow you the right way to school anyway, Gratian. You don't look sure of it this morning!"
"I'm cold, mother, and I've always got to do what I don't want. Last night I didn't want to go to bed, and this morning I didn't want to get up, and now I don't want to go to school, and I must."
He got up slowly and unwillingly49 and began putting his books together. His mother looked at him with a slight smile on her face.
"'Must''s a grand word, Gratian," she said. "I don't know what we'd be without it. You'll feel all right once you're scampering50 across the moor."
"Maybe," he replied. But his tone was rather plaintive51 still. He was feeling "sorry for himself" this morning.
Things in general, however, did seem brighter, as his mother had prophesied52 they would, when he[Pg 54] found himself outside. It was really not cold after all; it was one of those breezy yet not chilly53 mornings when, though there is nothing depressing in the air, there is a curious feeling of mystery—as if nature were holding secret discussions, which the winds and the waves, the hills and the clouds, the trees and the birds even, know all about, but which we—clumsy creatures that we are—are as yet shut out from.
"What is it all about, I wonder?" said Gratian to himself, as he became conscious of this feeling—an autumn feeling it always is, I think. "Everything seems so grave. Are they planning about the winter coming, and how the flowers and all the tender little plants are to be taken care of till it is over? Or is there going to be a great storm up in the sky? perhaps they are trying to settle it without a battle, but it does look very gloomy up there."
For the grayness had the threatening steel-blue shade over it which betokens54 disturbance55 of some kind. Still the child's spirits rose as he ran; there was something reviving in the little gusts57 of moorland breeze that met him every now and then, and he forgot everything else in the pleasure of the quick movement and the glow that soon replaced the chilly feelings with which he had set out.
[Pg 55]
He had run a good way, when something white, or light-coloured, fluttering on the ground some little way before him, caught his eye. And as he drew nearer he saw that it was a book, or papers of some kind, hooked on to a low-growing furze bush. Suddenly the words of the mysterious figure of the night before returned to his mind—"Look for the furze bush on the right of the path where it turns for the last time," she had said.
Gratian stopped short. Yes—there in front of him was the landmark—the path turned here for the last time, as she had said. He looked about him in astonishment58.
"This was where my books were last night, then," he said to himself. "I had no idea I had come so far! Why, I was home in half a second—it is very strange—I could fancy it was a dream, or else that last night and the rainbow dance wasn't a dream."
He ran on to where the white thing was still fluttering appealingly, as if begging him to detach it. Poor white thing! It was or had been an exercise-book. At first Gratian fancied it must be one of his copy-books, left behind by mistake after his fairy friend had given him back the rest of his books. But as soon as he took it in his hands and saw the[Pg 56] neat, clear characters, he knew it was not his, and he did not need to look at the signature, "Anthony Ferris," to guess that it belonged to the miller's son—for Tony was a clever boy, almost at the head of the school, and famed for his very good writing.
"Ah ha," thought Gratian triumphantly59, "I have you now, Master Tony."
He had recognised the book as containing Tony's dictation lessons, for here and there were the wrongly spelt words—not many of them, for Tony was a good speller too—marked by the schoolmaster.
"Tony must have meant to take the book home to copy it out clear, and correct the wrong spelling," thought Gratian. And he remembered hearing the teacher telling Tony's class that on the neatness with which this was done would depend several important good marks. "He'll not be head of his class, now he's lost this book. Serve him right for the trick he played me," said Gratian to himself, as he rolled up the tattered60 book and slipped it into his satchel61. "It's not so badly torn but what he could have copied it out all right, but it would have been torn to pieces by this evening, now that the wind's getting up. So it isn't my fault but his own—nasty spiteful[Pg 57] fellow. Where would all my poor books have been by now, thanks to him?"
The wind was getting up indeed—and a cold biting wind too. For just as Gratian was thus thinking, there came down such a gust56 as he had but seldom felt the force of. For an instant he staggered and all but fell, so unprepared had he been for the sudden buffet62. It took all his strength and agility63 to keep his feet during the short remainder of the moorland path, so sharp and violent were the blasts. And it was with face and hands tingling64 and smarting painfully that he entered the schoolroom.
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1
azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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2
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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3
moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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4
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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5
cozy
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| adj.亲如手足的，密切的，暖和舒服的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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7
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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8
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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12
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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14
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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15
filigree
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| n.金银丝做的工艺品；v.用金银细丝饰品装饰；用华而不实的饰品装饰；adj.金银细丝工艺的 | |
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icebergs
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| n.冰山，流冰( iceberg的名词复数 ) | |
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17
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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18
grumble
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| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
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19
waft
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| v.飘浮，飘荡；n.一股；一阵微风；飘荡 | |
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scents
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| n.香水( scent的名词复数 )；气味；（动物的）臭迹；（尤指狗的）嗅觉 | |
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21
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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cadence
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| n.（说话声调的）抑扬顿挫 | |
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dirge
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| n.哀乐，挽歌，庄重悲哀的乐曲 | |
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27
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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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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29
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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meshes
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| 网孔( mesh的名词复数 )； 网状物； 陷阱； 困境 | |
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32
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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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35
sheathed
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| adj.雕塑像下半身包在鞘中的；覆盖的；铠装的；装鞘了的v.将（刀、剑等）插入鞘( sheathe的过去式和过去分词 )；包，覆盖 | |
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36
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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38
overcast
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| adj.阴天的，阴暗的，愁闷的；v.遮盖，（使）变暗，包边缝；n.覆盖，阴天 | |
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39
casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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40
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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41
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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42
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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43
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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44
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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45
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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46
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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47
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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48
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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49
unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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50
scampering
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的现在分词 ) | |
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51
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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52
prophesied
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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54
betokens
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的第三人称单数 ) | |
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55
disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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56
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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57
gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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58
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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59
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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60
tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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61
satchel
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| n.(皮或帆布的)书包 | |
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62
buffet
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| n.自助餐；饮食柜台；餐台 | |
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63
agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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64
tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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