HENRY BROCKEN
With a heart of furious fancies, Whereof I am commander: With a burning spear, And a horse of air, To the wilderness I wander;
With a Knight of ghosts and shadows, I summoned am to Tourney: Ten leagues beyond The wide world's end; Methinks it is no journey.
--ANON. (_Tom o' Bedlam_).
HENRY BROCKEN
His Travels and Adventures in the Rich, Strange, Scarce-ImaginableRegions of Romance
by
WALTER J. DE LA MARE
("WALTER RAMAL")
LondonJohn Murray, Albemarle Street, W.
1904
CONTENTS
I. WHITHER?
Come hither, come hither, come hither!
--SHAKESPEARE.
II. LUCY GRAY
Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray; And, when I crossed the wild, I chanced to see at break of day The solitary child.
--WORDSWORTH.
III. JANE EYRE
I used to rush into strange dreams at night: dreams ... where amidst unusual scenes ... I still again and again met Mr. Rochester;... and then the sense of being in his arms, hearing his voice, meeting his eye, touching his hand and cheek, loving him, being loved by him--the hope of passing a lifetime at his side, would be renewed, with all its first force and fire.
--CHARLOTTE BRONTE (_Jane Eyre_, Ch. xxxii.).
IV. JULIA, ELECTRA, DIANEME
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles to-day To-morrow will be dying.
The glorious Lamp of Heaven, the Sun, The higher he's a-getting, The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting.
That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse, and worst Times still succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time; And while ye may, go marry: For having lost but once your prime, You may for ever tarry.
ANTHEA--
Now is the time when all the lights wax dim, And thou, Anthea, must withdraw from him Who was thy servant. Dearest, bury me Under the holy-oak or gospel tree;... Or, for mine honour, lay me in that tomb In which thy sacred relics shall have room: For my embalming, sweetest, there will be No spices wanting when I'm laid by thee.
--HERRICK (_Hesperides_).
V. NICK BOTTOM 43
BOT. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanac; find out moonshine, find out moonshine.
--_A Midsummer Night's Dream_, Act III., Sc. i.
VI. SLEEPING BEAUTY
VII. & VIII. LEMUEL GULLIVER
I must freely confess that since my last return some corruptions of my Yahoo nature have revived in me, by conversing with a few of your species, and particularly those of my own family, by an unavoidable necessity; else I should never have attempted so absurd a project as that of reforming the Yahoo race in this kingdom: but I have done with all such visionary schemes for ever.--_Gulliver's Letter to his Cousin._
The first money I laid out was to buy two young stone horses, which I kept in a good stable, and next to them the groom is my greatest favourite; for I feel my spirits revived by the smell he contracts in the stable.
--SWIFT (_A Voyage to the Houyhnhnms_, Ch. xi.).
IX. & X. MISTRUST, OBSTINATE, LIAR, ETC.
And as he read he wept and trembled; and not being able longer to contain, he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying, "What shall I do?"...
The neighbours also came out to see him run; and as he ran, some mocked, others threatened, and some cried after him to return.
ATHEIST--
Now, after awhile, they perceived afar off, one coming softly and alone, all along the highway, to meet them.
--BUNYAN (_The Pilgrim's Progress_).
XI. LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI
"O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering? The sedge has withered from the lake, And no birds sing.
"O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, So haggard and so woe-begone? The squirrel's granary is full, And the harvest's done."
--KEATS.
XII. SLEEP AND DEATH
Death will come when thou art dead, Soon, too soon-- Sleep will come when thou art fled; Of neither would I ask the boon I ask of thee, beloved Night-- Swift be thine approaching flight, Come soon, soon!
--SHELLEY.
XIII. & XIV. A DOCTOR OF PHYSIC
Well, well, well,-- ... God, God forgive us all!
--_Macbeth_, Act V., Sc. i.
XV. ANNABEL LEE
I was a child, and she was a child In this kingdom by the sea; And we loved with a love that was more than love-- I and my Annabel Lee-- With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me.
--EDGAR ALLAN POE.
XVI. CRISEYDE
... Love hadde his dwellinge With-inne the subtile stremes of hir yen.
Book I., 304-5.
Y-wis, my dere herte, I am nought wrooth, Have here my trouthe and many another ooth; Now speek to me, for it am I, Criseyde!
Book III., 1110-2.
And fare now wel, myn owene swete herte!
Book V., 1421.
--CHAUCER (_Troilus and Criseyde_).