XIV
_And if we gang to sea, master, I fear we'll come to harm._
--OLD BALLAD.
By and by less anxious talk soothed him. Indeed it was he whosuggested one last bright draught of air beneath his trees beforeretiring. Down we went again with some unnecessary clatter. And herewere stars between the fruited boughs, silvery Capella and the Twins,and low on the sky's moonlit border Venus excellently bright.
He asked me whither I proposed going, if I needs must go; besoughtthere and then in the ambrosial night-air the history of mywanderings--a mere nine days' wonder; and told me how he himself muchfeared and hated the sea.
He questioned me also with not a little subtilty (and double-dealingtoo, I fancied,) regarding my own country, and of things present, andthings real. In fact nothing, I think, so much flattered hisvanity--unless it was my wonder at Dame Partlett's clucking on hisviol-strings--as to learn himself was famous even so far as to agesyet unborn. He gazed on the simple moon with limpid, amiable eyes, andcaught my fingers in his.
How, then, could I even so much as hint to enquire which centuryindeed was his, who had no need of any? How could I abash that kindlyvanity of his by adding also that, however famous, he must needs be toall eternity--nameless?
We conversed long and earnestly in the coolness. He very franklycounselled me not to venture unconducted further into this country.The land of Tragedy was broad. And though on this side it lay adjacentto the naive and civil people of Comedy; on the further, in the shadowof those bleak, unfooted mountains, lurked unnatural horror anddesolation, and cruelty beyond all telling.
He very kindly offered me too, if I was indeed bent on seeking thesea, an old boat, still seaworthy, that lay in a creek in the rivernear by, from which he was wont to fish. As for Rosinante, he supposeda rest would be by no means unwelcome to so faithful a friend. Hehimself rode little, being indolent, and a happier host than guest;and when I returned here, she should be stuffed with dainties awaitingme.
To this I cordially and gratefully agreed; and also even morecordially to remain with him the next day; and the next night afterthat to take my watery departure.
So it was. And a courteous, versatile, and vivacious companion I foundhim. Rare tales he told me, too, of better days than these, and rarestof his own never-more-returning youth. He loved his childhood, talkedon of it with an artless zeal, his eyes a nest of singing-birds. Howcontrite he was for spirit lost, and daring withheld, and hopediscomfited! How simple and urbane concerning his present lowlydemands on life, on love, and on futurity! All this, too, with suchpacked winks and mirth and mourning, that I truly said good-night forthe second time to him with a rather melancholy warmth, sinceto-morrow ... who can face unmoved that viewless sphinx? Moreover, thesea is wide, has fishes in plenty, but never too many coraled grottoesonce poor mariners.