Phantastes, A Faerie Romance

"Fight on, my men, Sir Andrew sayes,

A little Ime hurt, but yett not slaine;

He but lye downe and bleede awhile,

And then Ile rise and fight againe."

Ballad of Sir Andrew Barton.

But I could not remain where I was any longer, though the daylight was

hateful to me, and the thought of the great, innocent, bold sunrise

unendurable. Here there was no well to cool my face, smarting with the

bitterness of my own tears. Nor would I have washed in the well of

that grotto, had it flowed clear as the rivers of Paradise. I rose, and

feebly left the sepulchral cave. I took my way I knew not whither, but

still towards the sunrise. The birds were singing; but not for me. All

the creatures spoke a language of their own, with which I had nothing to

do, and to which I cared not to find the key any more.

I walked listlessly along. What distressed me most--more even than my

own folly--was the perplexing question, How can beauty and ugliness

dwell so near? Even with her altered complexion and her face of dislike;

disenchanted of the belief that clung around her; known for a

living, walking sepulchre, faithless, deluding, traitorous; I felt

notwithstanding all this, that she was beautiful. Upon this I pondered

with undiminished perplexity, though not without some gain.

Then I began to make surmises as to the mode of my deliverance; and concluded that

some hero, wandering in search of adventure, had heard how the forest

was infested; and, knowing it was useless to attack the evil thing in

person, had assailed with his battle-axe the body in which he dwelt, and

on which he was dependent for his power of mischief in the wood. "Very

likely," I thought, "the repentant-knight, who warned me of the evil

which has befallen me, was busy retrieving his lost honour, while I was

sinking into the same sorrow with himself; and, hearing of the dangerous

and mysterious being, arrived at his tree in time to save me from being

dragged to its roots, and buried like carrion, to nourish him for

yet deeper insatiableness." I found afterwards that my conjecture was

correct. I wondered how he had fared when his blows recalled the Ash

himself, and that too I learned afterwards.

I walked on the whole day, with intervals of rest, but without food; for

I could not have eaten, had any been offered me; till, in the afternoon,

I seemed to approach the outskirts of the forest, and at length arrived

at a farm-house. An unspeakable joy arose in my heart at beholding an

abode of human beings once more, and I hastened up to the door, and

knocked. A kind-looking, matronly woman, still handsome, made her

appearance; who, as soon as she saw me, said kindly, "Ah, my poor boy,

you have come from the wood! Were you in it last night?"