robert falconer- 第59部分

moment　the　intellectual　demon　was　awake。



'But　what's　the　good　of　it　all？'　he　said。　'I　don't　even　know　that

there　is　anything　outside　of　me。'



'Ye　ken　that　I'm　here；　Mr。　Ericson；'　suggested　Robert。



'I　know　nothing　of　the　sort。　　You　may　be　another　phantomonly

clearer。'



'Ye　speik　to　me　as　gin　ye　thocht　me　somebody。'



'So　does　the　man　to　his　phantoms；　and　you　call　him　mad。　　It　is　but　a

yielding　to　the　pressure　of　constant　suggestion。　　I　do　not　knowI

cannot　know　if　there　is　anything　outside　of　me。'



'But　gin　there　warna；　there　wad　be　naebody　for　ye　to　love；　Mr。

Ericson。'



'Of　course　not。'



'Nor　naebody　to　love　you；　Mr。　Ericson。'



'Of　course　not。'



'Syne　ye　wad　be　yer　ain　God；　Mr。　Ericson。'



'Yes。　That　would　follow。'



'I　canna　imagine　a　waur　hellclosed　in　amo'　naethingwi'　naething

a'　aboot　ye；　luikin'　something　a'　the　timekennin'　'at　it　's　a'　a

lee；　and　nae　able　to　win　clear　o'　't。'



'It　is　hell；　my　boy；　or　anything　worse　you　can　call　it。'



'What　for　suld　ye　believe　that；　than；　Mr。　Ericson？　　I　wadna　believe

sic　an　ill　thing　as　that。　　I　dinna　think　I　cud　believe　't；　gin　ye

war　to　pruv　't　to　me。'



'I　don't　believe　it。　　Nobody　could　prove　that　either；　even　if　it

were　so。　　I　am　only　miserable　that　I　can't　prove　the　contrary。'



'Suppose　there　war　a　God；　Mr。　Ericson；　do　ye　think　ye　bude　（behoved）

to　be　able　to　pruv　that？　　Do　ye　think　God　cud　stan'　to　be　pruved　as

gin　he　war　something　sma'　eneuch　to　be　turned　roon'　and　roon'；　and

luikit　at　upo'　ilka　side？　　Gin　there　war　a　God；　wadna　it　jist　be

saethat　we　cudna　prove　him　to　be；　I　mean？'



'Perhaps。　　That　is　something。　　I　have　often　thought　of　that。　　But

then　you　can't　prove　anything　about　it。'



'I　canna　help　thinkin'　o'　what　Mr。　Innes　said　to　me　ance。　　I　was　but

a　laddie；　but　I　never　forgot　it。　　I　plaguit　him　sair　wi'　wantin'　to

unnerstan'　ilka　thing　afore　I　wad　gang　on　wi'　my　questons　（sums）。

Says　he；　ae　day；　〃Robert；　my　man；　gin　ye　will　aye　unnerstan'　afore

ye　du　as　ye're　tellt；　ye'll　never　unnerstan'　onything。　　But　gin　ye

du　the　thing　I　tell　ye；　ye'll　be　i'　the　mids　o'　't　afore　ye　ken　'at

ye're　gaein'　intil　't。〃　　I　jist　thocht　I　wad　try　him。　　It　was　at

lang　division　that　I　boglet　maist。　　Weel；　I　gaed　on；　and　I　cud　du

the　thing　weel　eneuch；　ohn　made　ae　mistak。　　And　aye　I　thocht　the

maister　was　wrang；　for　I　never　kent　the　rizzon　o'　a'　that　beginnin'

at　the　wrang　en'；　an'　takin'　doon　an'　substrackin'；　an'　a'　that。　　Ye

wad　hardly　believe　me；　Mr。　Ericson：　it　was　only　this　verra　day；　as　I

was　sittin'　i'　the　kirkit　was　a　lang　psalm　they　war　singin'that

ane　wi'　the　foxes　i'　the　tail　o'　'tlang　division　came　into　my　heid

again；　and　first　aye　bit　glimmerin'　o'　licht　cam　in；　and　syne

anither；　an'　afore　the　psalm　was　dune　I　saw　throu'　the　haill　process

o'　't。　　But　ye　see；　gin　I　hadna　dune　as　I　was　tauld；　and　learnt　a'

aboot　hoo　it　was　dune　aforehan'；　I　wad　hae　had　naething　to　gang

rizzonin'　aboot；　an'　wad　hae　fun'　oot　naething。'



'That's　good；　Robert。　　But　when　a　man　is　dying　for　food；　he　can't

wait。'



'He　micht　try　to　get　up　and　luik；　though。　　He　needna　bide　in　's　bed

till　somebody　comes　an'　sweirs　till　him　'at　he　saw　a　haddie

（haddock）　i'　the　press。'



'I　have　been　looking；　Robertfor　years。'



'Maybe；　like　me；　only　for　the　rizzon　o'　't；　Mr。　Ericsongin　ye'll

forgie　my　impidence。'



'But　what's　to　be　done　in　this　case；　Robert？　　Where's　the　work　that

you　can　do　in　order　to　understand？　　Where's　your　long　division；

man？'



'Ye're　ayont　me　noo。　　I　canna　tell　that；　Mr。　Ericson。　　It　canna　be

gaein'　to　the　kirk；　surely。　　Maybe　it　micht　be　sayin'　yer　prayers

and　readin'　yer　Bible。'



Ericson　did　not　reply；　and　the　conversation　dropped。　　Is　it　strange

that　neither　of　these　disciples　should　have　thought　of　turning　to

the　story　of　Jesus；　finding　some　word　that　he　had　spoken；　and

beginning　to　do　that　as　a　first　step　towards　a　knowledge　of　the

doctrine　that　Jesus　was　the　incarnate　God；　come　to　visit　his

peoplea　very　unlikely　thing　to　man's　wisdom；　yet　an　idea　that　has

notwithstanding　ascended　above　man's　horizon；　and　shown　itself　the

grandest　idea　in　his　firmament？



In　the　evening　Ericson　asked　again　for　his　papers；　from　which　he

handed　Robert　the　following　poem：



WORDS　IN　THE　NIGHT。



I　woke　at　midnight；　and　my　heart；

My　beating　heart　said　this　to　me：

Thou　seest　the　moon　how　calm　and　bright

The　world　is　fair　by　day　and　night；

But　what　is　that　to　thee？

One　touch　to　medown　dips　the　light

Over　the　land　and　sea。

All　is　mine；　all　is　my　own！

Toss　the　purple　fountain　high！

The　breast　of　man　is　a　vat　of　stone；

I　am　alive；　I；　only　I！



One　little　touch　and　all　is　dark；

The　winter　with　its　sparkling　moons

The　spring　with　all　her　violets；

The　crimson　dawns　and　rich　sunsets；

The　autumn's　yellowing　noons。

I　only　toss　my　purple　jets；

And　thou　art　one　that　swoons

Upon　a　night　of　gust　and　roar；

Shipwrecked　among　the　waves；　and　seems

Across　the　purple　hills　to　roam；

Sweet　odours　touch　him　from　the　foam；

And　downward　sinking　still　he　dreams

He　walks　the　clover　field　at　home；

And　hears　the　rattling　teams。

All　is　mine；　all　is　my　own！

Toss　the　purple　fountain　high！

The　breast　of　man　is　a　vat　of　stone；

I　am　alive；　I；　only　I！



Thou　hast　beheld　a　throated　fountain　spout

Full　in　the　air；　and　in　the　downward　spray

A　hovering　Iris　span　the　marble　tank；

Which　as　the　wind　came；　ever　rose　and　sank

Violet　and　red；　so　my　continual　play

Makes　beauty　for　the　Gods　with　many　a　prank

Of　human　excellence；　while　they；

Weary　of　all　the　noon；　in　shadows　sweet

Supine　and　heavy…eyed　rest　in　the　boundless　heat：

Let　the　world's　fountain　play！

Beauty　is　pleasant　in　the　eyes　of　Jove；

Betwixt　the　wavering　shadows　where　he　lies

He　marks　the　dancing　column　with　his　eyes

Celestial；　and　amid　his　inmost　grove

Upgathers　all　his　limbs；　serenely　blest；

Lulled　by　the　mellow　noise　of　the　great　world's　unrest。



One　heart　beats　in　all　nature；　differing

But　in　the　work　it　works；　its　doubts　and　clamours

Are　but　the　waste　and　brunt　of　instruments

Wherewith　a　work　is　done；　or　as　the　hammers

On　forge　Cyclopean　plied　beneath　the　rents

Of　lowest　Etna；　conquering　into　shape

The　hard　and　scattered　ore：

Choose　thou　narcotics；　and　the　dizzy　grape

Outworking　passion；　lest　with　horrid　crash

Thy　life　go　from　thee　in　a　night　of　pain。

So　tutoring　thy　vision；　shall　the　flash

Of　dove　white…breasted　be　to　thee　no　more

Than　a　white　stone　heavy　upon　the　plain。



Hark　the　cock　crows　loud！

And　without；　all　ghastly　and　ill；

Like　a　man　uplift　in　his　shroud；

The　white　white　morn　is　propped　on　the　hill；

And　adown　from　the　eaves；　pointed　and　chill；

The　icicles　'gin　to　glitter；

And　the　birds　with　a　warble　short　and　shrill；

Pass　by　the　chamber…window　still

With　a　quick　uneasy　twitter。

Let　me　pump　warm　blood；　for　the　cold　is　bitter；

And　wearily；　wearily；　one　by　one；

Men　awake　with　the　weary　sun。



Life　is　a　phantom　shut　in　thee；

I　am　the　master　and　keep　the　key；

So　let　me　toss　thee　the　days　of　old；

Crimson　and　orange　and　green　and　gold；

So　let　me　fill　thee　yet　again

With　a　rush　of　dreams　from　my　spout　amain；

For　all　is　mine；　all　is　my　own；

Toss　the　purple　fountain　high！

The　breast　of　man　is　a　vat　of　stone；

And　I　am　alive；　I；　only　I。



Robert　having　read；　sat　and　wept　in　silence。　　Ericson　saw　him；　and

said　tenderly；



'Robert；　my　boy；　I'm　not　always　so　bad　as　that。　　Read　this

onethough　I　never　feel　like　it　now。　　Perhaps　it　may　come　again

some　day；　though。　　I　may　once　more　deceive　myself　and　be　happy。'



'Dinna　say　that；　Mr。　Ericson。　　That's　waur　than　despair。　　That's

flat　unbelief。　　Ye　no　more　ken　that　ye're　deceivin'　yersel'　than　ye

ken　that　ye're　no　doin'　't。'



Ericson　did　not　reply；　and　Robert　read　the　following　sonnet　aloud；

feeling　his　way　delicately　through　its　mazes：



Lie　down　upon　the　ground；　thou　hopeless　one！

Press　thy　face　in　the　grass；　and　do　not　speak。

Dost　feel　the　green　globe　whirl？　　Seven　times　a　week

Climbeth　she　out　of　darkness　to　the　sun；

Which　is　her　god；　seven　times　she　doth　not　shun

Awful　eclipse；　laying　her　patient　cheek

Upon　a　pillow　ghost…beset　with　shriek

Of　voices　utterless　which　rave　and　run

Through　all　the　star…penumbra；　craving　light

And　tidings　of　the　dawn　from　East　and　West。

Calmly　she　sleepeth；　and　her　sleep　is　blest

With　heavenly　visions；　and　the　joy　of　Night

Treading　aloft　with　moons。　　Nor　hath　she　fright

Though　cloudy　tempests　beat　upon　her　breast。



Ericson　turned　his　face　to　the　wall；　and　Robert　withdrew　to　his　own

chamber。









CHAPTER　XIII。



SHARGAR'S　ARM。



Not　many　weeks　passed　before　Shargar　knew　Aberdeen　better　than　most

Aberdonians。　　From　the　Pier…head　to　the　Rubislaw　Road；　he　knew；　if

not　every　court；　yet　every　thoroughfare　and　short　cut。　　And　Aberdeen

began　to　know　him。　　He　was　very　soon　recognized　as　trustworthy；　and

had　pretty　nearly　as　much　to　do　as　he　could　manage。　　Shargar；

therefore；　was　all　over　the　city　like　a　cracker；　and　could　have　told

at　almost　any　hour　where　Dr。　Anderson　was　to　be　foundgenerally　in

the　lower　parts　of　it；　for　the　good　man　visited　much　among　the　poor；

giving　them　almost　exclusively　the　benefit　of　his　large　experience。

Shargar　delighted　in　keeping　an　eye　upon　the　doctor；　carefully

avoiding　to　show　himself。



One　day　as　he　was　hurrying　through　the　Green　（a　non　virendo）　on　a

mission　from　the　Rothieden　carrier；　he　came　upon　the　doctor's

chariot　standing　in　one　of　the　narrowest　streets；　and；　as　usual；

paused　to　contemplate　the　equipage　and　get　a　peep　of　the　owner。　　The

morning　was　very　sharp。　　There　was　no　snow；　but　a　cold　fog；　like

vaporized　hoar…frost；　filled　the　air。　　It　was　weather　in　which　the

East　Indian　could　not　venture　out　on　foot；　else　he　could　have

reached　the　place　by　a　stair　from　Union　Street　far　sooner　than　he

c