Allegories; Fantasy fiction; Historical fiction; Middle Ages -- Fiction
For this was the last night but one before the day that was set for
Guenevere's departure.
19.
The Brown Man with Queer Feet
Early in the following morning Jurgen left Cameliard, traveling
toward Carohaise, and went into the Druid forest there, and followed
Merlin's instructions.
"Not that I for a moment believe in such nonsense," said Jurgen:
"but it will be amusing to see what comes of this business, and it
is unjust to deny even nonsense a fair trial."
So he presently observed a sun-browned brawny fellow, who sat upon
the bank of a stream, dabbling his feet in the water, and making
music with a pipe constructed of seven reeds of irregular lengths.
To him Jurgen displayed, in such a manner as Merlin had prescribed,
the token which Merlin had given. The man made a peculiar sign, and
rose. Jurgen saw that this man's feet were unusual.
Jurgen bowed low, and he said, as Merlin had bidden: "Now praise be
to thee, thou lord of the two truths! I have come to thee, O most
wise, that I may learn thy secret. I would know thee, and would know
the forty-two mighty ones who dwell with thee in the hall of the two
truths, and who are nourished by evil-doers, and who partake of
wicked blood each day of the reckoning before Wennofree. I would
know thee for what thou art."
The brown man answered: "I am everything that was and that is to be.
Never has any mortal been able to discover what I am."
Then this brown man conducted Jurgen to an open glen, at the heart
of the forest.
"Merlin dared not come himself, because," observed the brown man,
"Merlin is wise. But you are a poet. So you will presently forget
that which you are about to see, or at worst you will tell pleasant
lies about it, particularly to yourself."
"I do not know about that," says Jurgen, "but I am willing to taste
any drink once. What are you about to show me?"
The brown man answered: "All."
So it was near evening when they came out of the glen. It was dark
now, for a storm had risen. The brown man was smiling, and Jurgen
was in a flutter.
"It is not true," Jurgen protested. "What you have shown me is a
pack of nonsense. It is the degraded lunacy of a so-called Realist.
It is sorcery and pure childishness and abominable blasphemy. It is,
in a word, something I do not choose to believe. You ought to be
ashamed of yourself!"
"Even so, you do believe me, Jurgen."
"I believe that you are an honest man and that I am your cousin: so
there are two more lies for you."
The brown man said, still smiling: "Yes, you are certainly a poet,
you who have borrowed the apparel of my cousin. For you come out of
my glen, and from my candor, as sane as when you entered. That is
not saying much, to be sure, in praise of a poet's sanity at any
time. But Merlin would have died, and Merlin would have died without
regret, if Merlin had seen what you have seen, because Merlin
receives facts reasonably."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account