the dryad-第4章

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lifted　to　the　cheerful　freshness　above。　Here；　and　not　below　in　the

vaulted　passages；　filled　with　heavy　air；　the　wonder　work　must　be　found

which　she　was　to　seek　in　her　short　lifetime。　It　must　gleam　brighter

than　all　the　gas…flames；　stronger　than　the　moon　that　was　just

gliding　past。

　　　　Yes；　certainly；　she　saw　it　yonder　in　the　distance；　it　gleamed

before　her；　and　twinkled　and　glittered　like　the　evening　star　in　the

sky。

　　　　She　saw　a　glittering　portal　open；　that　led　to　a　little　garden；

where　all　was　brightness　and　dance　music。　Colored　lamps　surrounded

little　lakes；　in　which　were　water…plants　of　colored　metal；　from

whose　flowers　jets　of　water　spurted　up。　Beautiful　weeping　willows；

real　products　of　spring；　hung　their　fresh　branches　over　these　lakes

like　a　fresh；　green；　transparent；　and　yet　screening　veil。　In　the

bushes　burnt　an　open　fire；　throwing　a　red　twilight　over　the　quiet　huts

of　branches；　into　which　the　sounds　of　music　penetrated…　an　ear

tickling；　intoxicating　music；　that　sent　the　blood　coursing　through　the

veins。

　　　　Beautiful　girls　in　festive　attire；　with　pleasant　smiles　on　their

lips；　and　the　light　spirit　of　youth　in　their　hearts…　〃Marys；〃　with

roses　in　their　hair；　but　without　carriage　and　postilion…　flitted　to

and　fro　in　the　wild　dance。

　　　　Where　were　the　heads；　where　the　feet？　As　if　stung　by　tarantulas；

they　sprang；　laughed；　rejoiced；　as　if　in　their　ecstacies　they　were

going　to　embrace　all　the　world。

　　　　The　Dryad　felt　herself　torn　with　them　into　the　whirl　of　the　dance。

Round　her　delicate　foot　clung　the　silken　boot；　chestnut　brown　in

color；　like　the　ribbon　that　floated　from　her　hair　down　upon　her　bare

shoulders。　The　green　silk　dress　waved　in　large　folds；　but　did　not

entirely　hide　the　pretty　foot　and　ankle。

　　　　Had　she　come　to　the　enchanted　Garden　of　Armida？　What　was　the

name　of　the　place？

　　　　The　name　glittered　in　gas…jets　over　the　entrance。　It　was

〃Mabille。〃

　　　　The　soaring　upwards　of　rockets；　the　splashing　of　fountains；　and

the　popping　of　champagne　corks　accompanied　the　wild　bacchantic

dance。　Over　the　whole　glided　the　moon　through　the　air；　clear；　but　with

a　somewhat　crooked　face。

　　　　A　wild　joviality　seemed　to　rush　through　the　Dryad；　as　though　she

were　intoxicated　with　opium。　Her　eyes　spoke；　her　lips　spoke；　but　the

sound　of　violins　and　of　flutes　drowned　the　sound　of　her　voice。　Her

partner　whispered　words　to　her　which　she　did　not　understand；　nor　do　we

understand　them。　He　stretched　out　his　arms　to　draw　her　to　him；　but

he　embraced　only　the　empty　air。

　　　　The　Dryad　had　been　carried　away；　like　a　rose…leaf　on　the　wind。

Before　her　she　saw　a　flame　in　the　air；　a　flashing　light　high　up　on　a

tower。　The　beacon　light　shone　from　the　goal　of　her　longing；　shone　from

the　red　lighthouse　tower　of　the　Fata　Morgana　of　the　Champ　de　Mars。

Thither　she　was　carried　by　the　wind。　She　circled　round　the　tower；

the　workmen　thought　it　was　a　butterfly　that　had　come　too　early；　and

that　now　sank　down　dying。

　　　　The　moon　shone　bright；　gas…lamps　spread　light　around；　through

the　halls；　over　the　all…world's　buildings　scattered　about；　over　the

rose…hills　and　the　rocks　produced　by　human　ingenuity；　from　which

waterfalls；　driven　by　the　power　of　〃Master　Bloodless；〃　fell　down。

The　caverns　of　the　sea；　the　depths　of　the　lakes；　the　kingdom　of　the

fishes　were　opened　here。　Men　walked　as　in　the　depths　of　the　deep　pond；

and　held　converse　with　the　sea；　in　the　diving…bell　of　glass。　The　water

pressed　against　the　strong　glass　walls　above　and　on　every　side。　The

polypi；　eel…like　living　creatures；　had　fastened　themselves　to　the

bottom；　and　stretched　out　arms；　fathoms　long；　for　prey。　A　big　turbot

was　making　himself　broad　in　front；　quietly　enough；　but　not　without

casting　some　suspicious　glances　aside。　A　crab　clambered　over　him；

looking　like　a　gigantic　spider；　while　the　shrimps　wandered　about　in

restless　haste；　like　the　butterflies　and　moths　of　the　sea。

　　　　In　the　fresh　water　grew　water…lilies；　nymphaea；　and　reeds；　the

gold…fishes　stood　up　below　in　rank　and　file；　all　turning　their　heads

one　way；　that　the　streaming　water　might　flow　into　their　mouths。　Fat

carps　stared　at　the　glass　wall　with　stupid　eyes。　They　knew　that　they

were　here　to　be　exhibited；　and　that　they　had　made　the　somewhat

toilsome　journey　hither　in　tubs　filled　with　water；　and　they　thought

with　dismay　of　the　land…sickness　from　which　they　had　suffered　so

cruelly　on　the　railway。

　　　　They　had　come　to　see　the　Exhibition；　and　now　contemplated　it

from　their　fresh　or　salt…water　position。　They　looked　attentively　at

the　crowds　of　people　who　passed　by　them　early　and　late。　All　the

nations　in　the　world；　they　thought；　had　made　an　exhibition　of　their

inhabitants；　for　the　edification　of　the　soles　and　haddocks；　pike　and

carp；　that　they　might　give　their　opinions　upon　the　different　kinds。

　　　　〃Those　are　scaly　animals〃　said　a　little　slimy　Whiting。　〃They　put

on　different　scales　two　or　three　times　a　day；　and　they　emit　sounds

which　they　call　speaking。　We　don't　put　on　scales；　and　we　make

ourselves　understood　in　an　easier　way；　simply　by　twitching　the　corners

of　our　mouths　and　staring　with　our　eyes。　We　have　a　great　many

advantages　over　mankind。〃

　　　　〃But　they　have　learned　swimming　of　us；〃　remarked　a　well…educated

Codling。　〃You　must　know　I　come　from　the　great　sea　outside。　In　the

hot　time　of　the　year　the　people　yonder　go　into　the　water；　first　they

take　off　their　scales；　and　then　they　swim。　They　have　learnt　from　the

frogs　to　kick　out　with　their　hind　legs；　and　row　with　their　fore

paws。　But　they　cannot　hold　out　long。　They　want　to　be　like　us；　but　they

cannot　come　up　to　us。　Poor　people！〃

　　　　And　the　fishes　stared。　They　thought　that　the　whole　swarm　of　people

whom　they　had　seen　in　the　bright　daylight　were　still　moving　around

them；　they　were　certain　they　still　saw　the　same　forms　that　had　first

caught　their　attention。

　　　　A　pretty　Barbel；　with　spotted　skin；　and　an　enviably　round　back；

declared　that　the　〃human　fry〃　were　still　there。

　　　　〃I　can　see　a　well　set…up　human　figure　quite　well；〃　said　the

Barbel。　〃She　was　called　'contumacious　lady；'　or　something　of　that

kind。　She　had　a　mouth　and　staring　eyes；　like　ours；　and　a　great　balloon

at　the　back　of　her　head；　and　something　like　a　shut…up　umbrella　in

front；　there　were　a　lot　of　dangling　bits　of　seaweed　hanging　about　her。

She　ought　to　take　all　the　rubbish　off；　and　go　as　we　do；　then　she　would

look　something　like　a　respectable　barbel；　so　far　as　it　is　possible　for

a　person　to　look　like　one！〃

　　　　〃What's　become　of　that　one　whom　they　drew　away　with　the　hook？　He

sat　on　a　wheel…chair；　and　had　paper；　and　pen；　and　ink；　and　wrote

down　everything。　They　called　him　a　'writer。'〃

　　　　〃They're　going　about　with　him　still；〃　said　a　hoary　old　maid　of　a

Carp；　who　carried　her　misfortune　about　with　her；　so　that　she　was　quite

hoarse。　In　her　youth　she　had　once　swallowed　a　hook；　and　still　swam

patiently　about　with　it　in　her　gullet。　〃A　writer？　That　means；　as　we

fishes　describe　it；　a　kind　of　cuttle　or　ink…fish　among　men。〃

　　　　Thus　the　fishes　gossipped　in　their　own　way；　but　in　the

artificial　water…grotto　the　laborers　were　busy；　who　were　obliged　to

take　advantage　of　the　hours　of　night　to　get　their　work　done　by

daybreak。　They　accompanied　with　blows　of　their　hammers　and　with

songs　the　parting　words　of　the　vanishing　Dryad。

　　　　〃So；　at　any　rate；　I　have　seen　you；　you　pretty　gold…fishes；〃　she

said。　〃Yes；　I　know　you；〃　and　she　waved　her　hand　to　them。　〃I　have　known

about　you　a　long　time　in　my　home；　the　swallow　told　me　about　you。　How

beautiful　you　are！　how　delicate　and　shining！　I　should　like　to　kiss

every　one　of　you。　You　others；　also。　I　know　you　all；　but　you　do　not

know　me。〃

　　　　The　fishes　stared　out　into　the　twilight。　They　did　not　understand　a

word　of　it。

　　　　The　Dryad　was　there　no　longer。　She　had　been　a　long　time　in　the

open　air；　where　the　different　countries…　the　country　of　black　bread；

the　codfish　coast；　the　kingdom　of　Russia　leather；　and　the　banks　of

eau…de…Cologne；　and　the　gardens　of　rose　oil…　exhaled　their　perfumes

from　the　world…wonder　flower。

　　　　When；　after　a　night　at　a　ball；　we　drive　home　half　asleep　and

half　awake；　the　melodies　still　sound　plainly　in　our　ears；　we　hear

them；　and　could　sing　them　all　from　memory。　When　the　eye　of　the

murdered　man　closes；　the　picture　of　what　it　saw　last　clings　to　it

for　a　time　like　a　photographic　picture。

　　　　So　it　was　likewise　here。　The　bustling　life　of　day　had　not　yet

disappeared　in　the　quiet　night。　The　Dryad　had　seen　it；　she　knew；

thus　it　will　be　repeated　tomorrow。

　　　　The　Dryad　stood　among　the　fragrant　roses；　and　thought　she　knew

them；　and　had　seen　them　in　her　own　home。　She　also　saw　red

pomegranate　flowers；　like　those　that　little　Mary　had　worn　in　her

dark　hair。

　　　　Remembrances　from　the　home　of　her　childhood　flashed　through　her

thoughts；　her　eyes　eagerly　drank　in　the　prospect　around；　and

feverish　restlessness　chased　her　through　the　wonder…filled　halls。

　　　　A　weariness　that　increased　continually；　took　possession　of　her。

She　felt　a　longing　to　rest　on　the　soft　Oriental　carpets　within；　or

to　lean　against　the　weeping　willow　without　by　the　clear　water。　But　for

the　ephemeral　fly　there　was　no　rest。　In　a　few　moments　the　day　had

completed　its　circle。

　　　　Her　thoughts　trembled；　her　limbs　trembled；　she　sank　down　on　the

grass　by　the　bubbling　water。

　　　　〃Thou　wilt　ever　spring　living　from　the　earth；〃　she　said

mournfully。　〃Moisten　my　tongue…　bring　me　a　refreshing　draught。〃

　　　　〃I　am　no　living　water；〃　was　the　answer。　〃I　only　spring　upward　when

the　machine　wills　it。〃

　　　　〃Give　me　something　of　thy　freshness；　thou　green　grass；〃　implored

the　Dryad；　〃give　me　one　of　thy　fragrant　flowers。〃

　　　　〃We　must　die　if　we　are　torn　from　our　stalks；〃　replied　the

Flowers　and　the　Grass。

　　　　〃Give　me　a　kiss；　thou　fresh　stream　of　air…　only　a　single

life…kiss。〃

　　　　〃Soon　the　sun　will　kiss　the　clouds　red；〃　answered　the　Wind；

〃then　thou　wilt　be　among　the　dead…　blown　away；　as　all　the　splendor

here　will　be　blown　away　before　the　year　shall　have　ended。　Then　I　can

play　again　with　the　light　loose　sand　on　the　place　here；　and　whirl

the　dust　over　the　land　and　through　the　air。　All　is　dust！〃

　　　　The　Dryad　felt　a　terror　like　a　woman　who　has　cut　asunder　her

pulse…artery　in　the　bath；　but　is　filled　again　with　the　love　of　life；

even　while　she　is　bleeding　to　death。　She　raised　herself；　tottered

forward　a　few　steps；　and　sank　down　again　at　the　entrance　to　a　little

church。　The　gate　stood　open；　lights　were　burning　upon　the　altar；　and

the　organ　sounded。

　　　　What　music！　Such　notes　the　Dryad　had　never　yet　heard；　and　yet　it

seemed　to　her　as　if　she　recognized　a　number　of　well…known　voices　among

them。　They　came　deep　from　the　heart　of　all　creation。　She　thought　she

heard　the　stories　of　the　old　clergyman；　of　great　deeds；　and　of　the

celebrated　names；　and　of　the　gifts　that　the　creatures　of　God　must

bestow　upon　posterity；　if　they　would　live　on　in　the　world。

　　　　The　tones　of　the　organ　swelled；　and　in　their　song　there　sounded

these　words：

　　　　〃Thy　wishing　and　thy　longing　have　torn　thee；　with　thy　roots；

from　the　place　which　God　appointed　for　thee