End of the world -- Fiction; Epidemics -- Fiction; Science fiction; Twenty-first century -- Fiction
“Yet how can I expect you to sympathize with me? You are of this world;
I am not. You hold forth your hand; it is even as a part of yourself;
and you do not yet divide the feeling of identity from the mortal form
that shapes forth Lionel. How then can you understand me? Earth is to
me a tomb, the firmament a vault, shrouding mere corruption. Time is no
more, for I have stepped within the threshold of eternity; each man I
meet appears a corse, which will soon be deserted of its animating
spark, on the eve of decay and corruption.
Cada piedra un piramide levanta,
y cada flor costruye un monumento,
cada edificio es un sepulcro altivo,
cada soldado un esqueleto vivo.”[3]
His accent was mournful,—he sighed deeply. “A few months ago,” he
continued, “I was thought to be dying; but life was strong within me.
My affections were human; hope and love were the day-stars of my life.
Now— they dream that the brows of the conqueror of the infidel faith
are about to be encircled by triumphant laurel; they talk of honourable
reward, of title, power, and wealth—all I ask of Greece is a grave. Let
them raise a mound above my lifeless body, which may stand even when
the dome of St. Sophia has fallen.
“Wherefore do I feel thus? At Rodosto I was full of hope; but when
first I saw Constantinople, that feeling, with every other joyful one,
departed. The last words of Evadne were the seal upon the warrant of my
death. Yet I do not pretend to account for my mood by any particular
event. All I can say is, that it is so. The plague I am told is in
Constantinople, perhaps I have imbibed its effluvia—perhaps disease is
the real cause of my prognostications. It matters little why or
wherefore I am affected, no power can avert the stroke, and the shadow
of Fate’s uplifted hand already darkens me.
“To you, Lionel, I entrust your sister and her child. Never mention to
her the fatal name of Evadne. She would doubly sorrow over the strange
link that enchains me to her, making my spirit obey her dying voice,
following her, as it is about to do, to the unknown country.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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