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<h2> CHAPTER IX </h2>
<p>"O lady! we receive but what we give,<br/>
And in our life alone does nature live:<br/>
Ours is her wedding garments ours her shrorwd!<br/>
. . . . .<br/>
Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth,<br/>
A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud,<br/>
<br/>
Enveloping the Earth—<br/>
And from the soul itself must there be sent<br/>
A sweet and potent voice of its own birth,<br/>
Of all sweet sounds the life and element!"<br/>
COLERIDGE.<br/></p>
<p>From this time, until I arrived at the palace of Fairy Land, I can
attempt no consecutive account of my wanderings and adventures.
Everything, henceforward, existed for me in its relation to my
attendant. What influence he exercised upon everything into contact with
which I was brought, may be understood from a few detached instances. To
begin with this very day on which he first joined me: after I had walked
heartlessly along for two or three hours, I was very weary, and lay
down to rest in a most delightful part of the forest, carpeted with wild
flowers. I lay for half an hour in a dull repose, and then got up to
pursue my way. The flowers on the spot where I had lain were crushed to
the earth: but I saw that they would soon lift their heads and rejoice
again in the sun and air. Not so those on which my shadow had lain. The
very outline of it could be traced in the withered lifeless grass,
and the scorched and shrivelled flowers which stood there, dead, and
hopeless of any resurrection. I shuddered, and hastened away with sad
forebodings.</p>
<p>In a few days, I had reason to dread an extension of its baleful
influences from the fact, that it was no longer confined to one position
in regard to myself. Hitherto, when seized with an irresistible desire
to look on my evil demon (which longing would unaccountably seize me at
any moment, returning at longer or shorter intervals, sometimes every
minute), I had to turn my head backwards, and look over my shoulder; in
which position, as long as I could retain it, I was fascinated. But one
day, having come out on a clear grassy hill, which commanded a glorious
prospect, though of what I cannot now tell, my shadow moved round, and
came in front of me. And, presently, a new manifestation increased
my distress. For it began to coruscate, and shoot out on all sides a
radiation of dim shadow. These rays of gloom issued from the central
shadow as from a black sun, lengthening and shortening with continual
change. But wherever a ray struck, that part of earth, or sea, or
sky, became void, and desert, and sad to my heart. On this, the first
development of its new power, one ray shot out beyond the rest, seeming
to lengthen infinitely, until it smote the great sun on the face, which
withered and darkened beneath the blow. I turned away and went on. The
shadow retreated to its former position; and when I looked again, it
had drawn in all its spears of darkness, and followed like a dog at my
heels.</p>
<p>Once, as I passed by a cottage, there came out a lovely fairy child,
with two wondrous toys, one in each hand. The one was the tube through
which the fairy-gifted poet looks when he beholds the same thing
everywhere; the other that through which he looks when he combines into
new forms of loveliness those images of beauty which his own choice has
gathered from all regions wherein he has travelled. Round the child's
head was an aureole of emanating rays. As I looked at him in wonder and
delight, round crept from behind me the something dark, and the child
stood in my shadow. Straightway he was a commonplace boy, with a rough
broad-brimmed straw hat, through which brim the sun shone from behind.
The toys he carried were a multiplying-glass and a kaleidoscope. I
sighed and departed.</p>
<p>One evening, as a great silent flood of western gold flowed through an
avenue in the woods, down the stream, just as when I saw him first, came
the sad knight, riding on his chestnut steed.</p>
<p>But his armour did not shine half so red as when I saw him first.</p>
<p>Many a blow of mighty sword and axe, turned aside by the strength of
his mail, and glancing adown the surface, had swept from its path the
fretted rust, and the glorious steel had answered the kindly blow with
the thanks of returning light. These streaks and spots made his armour
look like the floor of a forest in the sunlight. His forehead was higher
than before, for the contracting wrinkles were nearly gone; and the
sadness that remained on his face was the sadness of a dewy summer
twilight, not that of a frosty autumn morn. He, too, had met the
Alder-maiden as I, but he had plunged into the torrent of mighty deeds,
and the stain was nearly washed away. No shadow followed him. He had
not entered the dark house; he had not had time to open the closet door.
"Will he ever look in?" I said to myself. "MUST his shadow find him some
day?" But I could not answer my own questions.</p>
<p>We travelled together for two days, and I began to love him. It was
plain that he suspected my story in some degree; and I saw him once or
twice looking curiously and anxiously at my attendant gloom, which all
this time had remained very obsequiously behind me; but I offered no
explanation, and he asked none. Shame at my neglect of his warning, and
a horror which shrunk from even alluding to its cause, kept me silent;
till, on the evening of the second day, some noble words from my
companion roused all my heart; and I was at the point of falling on
his neck, and telling him the whole story; seeking, if not for
helpful advice, for of that I was hopeless, yet for the comfort of
sympathy—when round slid the shadow and inwrapt my friend; and I could
not trust him.</p>
<p>The glory of his brow vanished; the light of his eye grew cold; and I
held my peace. The next morning we parted.</p>
<p>But the most dreadful thing of all was, that I now began to feel
something like satisfaction in the presence of the shadow. I began to
be rather vain of my attendant, saying to myself, "In a land like this,
with so many illusions everywhere, I need his aid to disenchant the
things around me. He does away with all appearances, and shows me things
in their true colour and form. And I am not one to be fooled with the
vanities of the common crowd. I will not see beauty where there is
none. I will dare to behold things as they are. And if I live in a waste
instead of a paradise, I will live knowing where I live." But of this
a certain exercise of his power which soon followed quite cured me,
turning my feelings towards him once more into loathing and distrust. It
was thus:</p>
<p>One bright noon, a little maiden joined me, coming through the wood in
a direction at right angles to my path. She came along singing and
dancing, happy as a child, though she seemed almost a woman. In her
hands—now in one, now in another—she carried a small globe, bright and
clear as the purest crystal. This seemed at once her plaything and her
greatest treasure. At one moment, you would have thought her utterly
careless of it, and at another, overwhelmed with anxiety for its safety.
But I believe she was taking care of it all the time, perhaps not least
when least occupied about it. She stopped by me with a smile, and bade
me good day with the sweetest voice. I felt a wonderful liking to the
child—for she produced on me more the impression of a child, though my
understanding told me differently. We talked a little, and then walked
on together in the direction I had been pursuing. I asked her about the
globe she carried, but getting no definite answer, I held out my hand
to take it. She drew back, and said, but smiling almost invitingly the
while, "You must not touch it;"—then, after a moment's pause—"Or if
you do, it must be very gently." I touched it with a finger. A slight
vibratory motion arose in it, accompanied, or perhaps manifested, by
a faint sweet sound. I touched it again, and the sound increased. I
touched it the third time: a tiny torrent of harmony rolled out of the
little globe. She would not let me touch it any more.</p>
<p>We travelled on together all that day. She left me when twilight came
on; but next day, at noon, she met me as before, and again we travelled
till evening. The third day she came once more at noon, and we walked on
together. Now, though we had talked about a great many things connected
with Fairy Land, and the life she had led hitherto, I had never been
able to learn anything about the globe. This day, however, as we went
on, the shadow glided round and inwrapt the maiden. It could not change
her. But my desire to know about the globe, which in his gloom began to
waver as with an inward light, and to shoot out flashes of many-coloured
flame, grew irresistible. I put out both my hands and laid hold of it.
It began to sound as before. The sound rapidly increased, till it grew
a low tempest of harmony, and the globe trembled, and quivered, and
throbbed between my hands. I had not the heart to pull it away from the
maiden, though I held it in spite of her attempts to take it from me;
yes, I shame to say, in spite of her prayers, and, at last, her tears.
The music went on growing in, intensity and complication of tones, and
the globe vibrated and heaved; till at last it burst in our hands, and
a black vapour broke upwards from out of it; then turned, as if blown
sideways, and enveloped the maiden, hiding even the shadow in its
blackness. She held fast the fragments, which I abandoned, and fled from
me into the forest in the direction whence she had come, wailing like
a child, and crying, "You have broken my globe; my globe is broken—my
globe is broken!" I followed her, in the hope of comforting her; but
had not pursued her far, before a sudden cold gust of wind bowed the
tree-tops above us, and swept through their stems around us; a great
cloud overspread the day, and a fierce tempest came on, in which I lost
sight of her. It lies heavy on my heart to this hour. At night, ere I
fall asleep, often, whatever I may be thinking about, I suddenly hear
her voice, crying out, "You have broken my globe; my globe is broken;
ah, my globe!"</p>
<p>Here I will mention one more strange thing; but whether this peculiarity
was owing to my shadow at all, I am not able to assure myself. I came
to a village, the inhabitants of which could not at first sight be
distinguished from the dwellers in our land. They rather avoided than
sought my company, though they were very pleasant when I addressed them.
But at last I observed, that whenever I came within a certain distance
of any one of them, which distance, however, varied with different
individuals, the whole appearance of the person began to change; and
this change increased in degree as I approached. When I receded to the
former distance, the former appearance was restored. The nature of the
change was grotesque, following no fixed rule. The nearest resemblance
to it that I know, is the distortion produced in your countenance when
you look at it as reflected in a concave or convex surface—say, either
side of a bright spoon. Of this phenomenon I first became aware in
rather a ludicrous way. My host's daughter was a very pleasant pretty
girl, who made herself more agreeable to me than most of those about me.
For some days my companion-shadow had been less obtrusive than usual;
and such was the reaction of spirits occasioned by the simple mitigation
of torment, that, although I had cause enough besides to be gloomy, I
felt light and comparatively happy. My impression is, that she was quite
aware of the law of appearances that existed between the people of the
place and myself, and had resolved to amuse herself at my expense; for
one evening, after some jesting and raillery, she, somehow or other,
provoked me to attempt to kiss her. But she was well defended from
any assault of the kind. Her countenance became, of a sudden, absurdly
hideous; the pretty mouth was elongated and otherwise amplified
sufficiently to have allowed of six simultaneous kisses. I started back
in bewildered dismay; she burst into the merriest fit of laughter, and
ran from the room. I soon found that the same undefinable law of change
operated between me and all the other villagers; and that, to feel I was
in pleasant company, it was absolutely necessary for me to discover and
observe the right focal distance between myself and each one with whom
I had to do. This done, all went pleasantly enough. Whether, when I
happened to neglect this precaution, I presented to them an equally
ridiculous appearance, I did not ascertain; but I presume that the
alteration was common to the approximating parties. I was likewise
unable to determine whether I was a necessary party to the production of
this strange transformation, or whether it took place as well, under the
given circumstances, between the inhabitants themselves.</p>
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