CHAPTER XV.

Wilkin s afraid of losing his new mistress--They live

together all winter--A remark on that--They begin to know

each other's language--A long discourse between them at

cross purposes--She flies--They engage to be man and wife.

After my new love had been with me a fortnight, finding my water run

low, I was greatly troubled at the thought of quitting her any time to

go for more; and having hinted it to her, with seeming uneasiness,

she could not for a while fathom my meaning; but when she saw me much

confused, she came at length, by the many signs I made, to imagine it

was my concern for her which made me so; whereupon she expressively

enough signified I might be easy, for she did not fear anything

happening to her in my absence. On this, as well as I could declare my

meaning, I entreated her not to go away before my return. As soon as she

understood what I signified to her by actions, she sat down, with her

arms across, leaning her head against the wall to assure me she would

not stir. However, as I had before nailed a cord to the outside of the

door, I tied that for caution's sake to the tree, for fear of the worst:

but I believe she had not the least design of removing.

I took my boat, net, and water-cask, as usual, desirous of bringing her

home a fresh fish dinner, and succeeded so well as to catch enough for

several good meals, and to spare. What remained I salted, and found she

liked that better than the fresh, after a few days' salting; though she

did not so well approve of that I had formerly pickled and dried. As my

salt grew very low, though I had been as sparing of it as possible, I

now resolved to try making some; and the next summer I effected it.

Thus we spent the remainder of the winter together, till the days began

to be light enough for me to walk abroad a little in the middle of

them; for I was now under no apprehensions of her leaving me, as she had

before this time had so many opportunities of doing so, but never once

attempted it.

I must here make one reflection upon our conduct, which you will almost

think incredible, viz., that we two, of different sexes, not wanting our

peculiar desires, fully inflamed with love to each other, and no outward

obstacle to prevent our wishes, should have been together, under the

same roof alone for five months, conversing together from morning to

night (for by this time she pretty well understood English, and I her

language), and yet I should never have clasped her in my arms, or have

shown any further amorous desires to her than what the deference I all

along paid her could give her room to surmise. Nay, I can affirm that

I did not even then know that the covering she wore was not the work of

art, but the work of nature, for I really took it for silk; though it

must be premised that I had never seen it by any other light than of my

lamp. Indeed the modesty of her carriage and sweetness of her behaviour

to me had struck into me such a dread of offending her, that though

nothing upon earth could be more capable of exciting passion than her

charms, I could have died rather than have attempted only to salute her

without actual invitation.

When the weather cleared up a little by the lengthening of daylight, I

took courage one afternoon to invite her to walk with me to the lake;

but she sweetly excused herself from it, whilst there was such a

frightful glare of light, as she said; but looking out at the door,

told me, if I would not go out of the wood she would accompany me: so we

agreed to take a turn only there. I first went myself over the stile of

the door, and thinking it rather too high for her, I took her in my arms

and lifted her over. But even when I had her in this manner, I knew not

what to make of her clothing, it sat so true and close; but seeing by a

steadier and truer light in the grove, though a heavy gloomy one, than

my lamp had afforded, I begged she would let me know of what silk or

other composition her garment was made. She smiled, and asked me if mine

was not the same under my jacket "No, lady," says I, "I have nothing

but my skin under my clothes."--"Why, what do you mean?" replies she,

somewhat tartly; "but indeed I was afraid that something was the matter

by that nasty covering you wear, that you might not be seen. Are you

not a glumm?"*--"Yes,"says I, "fair creature." (Here, though you may

conceive she spoke part English, part her own tongue, and I the same, as

we best understood each other, yet I shall give you our discourse, word

for word, in plain English.) "Then," says she, "I am afraid you must

have been a very bad man, and have been crashee,** which I should be

very sorry to hear."

* A man.

** Slit.

I told her I believed we were none of us so good as we might be, but I

hoped my faults had not at most exceeded other men's; but I had suffered

abundance of hardships in my time; and that at last Providence

having settled me in this spot, from whence I had no prospect of ever

departing, it was none of the least of its mercies to bring to my

knowledge and company the most exquisite piece of all His works, in her,

which I should acknowledge as long as I lived. She was surprised at this

discourse, and asked me (if I did not mean to impose upon her, and was

indeed an ingcrashee* glumm) why I should tell her I had no prospect of

departing hence. "Have not you," says she, "the same prospect that I or

any other person has of departing? Sir," added she, "you don't do

well, and really I fear you are slit, or you would not wear this nasty

cumbersome coat (taking hold of my jacket-sleeve), if you were not

afraid of showing the signs of a bad life upon your natural clothing."

* Unslit.

I could not for my heart imagine what way there was to get out of my

dominions. But certainly, thought I, there must be some way or other, or

she would not be so peremptory. And as to my jacket, and showing myself

in my natural clothing, I profess she made me blush; and but for shame,

I would have stripped to my skin to have satisfied her. "But, madam,"

says I, "pray pardon me, for you are really mistaken; I have examined

every nook and corner of this new world in which we now are, and can

find no possible outlet; nay, even by the same way I came in, I am sure

it is impossible to get out again."--"Why," says she, "what outlets have

you searched for, or what way can you expect out but the way you came

in? And why is that impossible to return by again? If you are not slit,

is not the air open to you? Will not the sky admit you to patrole in it,

as well as other people? I tell you, sir, I fear you have been slit for

your crimes; and though you have been so good to me, that I can't help

loving of you heartily for it, yet if I thought you had been slit, I

would not, nay, could not, stay a moment longer with you; no, though it

should break my heart to leave you."

I found myself now in a strange quandary, longing to know what she meant

by being slit, and had a hundred strange notions in my head whether I

was slit or not; for though I knew what the word naturally signified

well enough, yet in what manner or by what figure of speech she applied

it to me, I had no idea of. But seeing her look a little angrily upon

me, "Pray, madam," says I, "don't be offended, if I take the liberty to

ask you what you mean by the word crashee* so often repeated by you; for

I am an utter stranger to what you mean by it."--"Sir," says she, "pray

answer me first how you came here?"--"Madam," replied I, "will you

please to take a walk to the verge of the wood, I will show you the very

passage."--"Sir," says she, "I perfectly know the range of the rocks all

round, and by the least description, without going to see them, can tell

from which you descended."--"In truth," said I, "most charming lady, I

descended from no rock at all; nor would I for a thousand worlds attempt

what could not be accomplished but by my destruction."--"Sir," says

she, in some anger, "it is false, and you impose upon me."--"I declare

to you," says I, "madam, what I tell you is strictly true; I never was

near the summit of any of the surrounding rocks, or anything like it;

but as you are not far from the verge of the wood, be so good as to step

a little farther and I will show you my entrance in hither."--"Well,"

says she, "now this odious dazzle of light is lessened, I don't care if

I do go with you."

When we came far enough to see the bridge, "There, madam," says I,

"there is my entrance, where the sea pours into this lake from yonder

cavern."--"It is not possible," says she; "this is another untruth; and

as I see you would deceive me, and are not to be believed, farewell; I

must be gone. But, hold," says she, "let me ask you one thing more; that

is, by what means did you come through that cavern? You could not have

used to have come over the rock?"--"Bless me, madam!" says I, "do you

think I and my boat could fly? Come over the rock, did you say? No,

madam; I sailed from the great sea, the main ocean, in my boat, through

that cavern into this very lake here."--"What do you mean by your boat?"

says she. "You seem to make two things of your boat you say you sailed

with and yourself."--"I do so," replied I; "for, madam, I take myself

to be good flesh and blood, but my boat is made of wood and other

materials."--"Is it so?" says she. "And, pray, where is this boat

that is made of wood and other materials?--under your jacket?"--"Lord,

madam!" says I, "you put me in fear that you were angry; but now I hope

you only joke with me. What, put a boat under my jacket! No, madam; my

boat is in the lake."--"What, more untruths?" says she.--"No, madam," I

replied; "if you would be satisfied of what I say (every word of which

is as true as that my boat now is in the lake), pray walk with me

thither and make your own eyes judges what sincerity I speak with." To

this she agreed, it growing dusky; but assured me, if I did not give her

good satisfaction, I should see her no more.

We arrived at the lake; and going to my wet-dock, "Now, madam," says

I, "pray satisfy yourself whether I spake true or no." She looked at my

boat, but could not yet frame a proper notion of it. Says I, "Madam,

in this very boat I sailed from the main ocean through that cavern into

this lake; and shall at last think myself the happiest of all men if you

continue with me, love me, and credit me; and I promise you I'll never

deceive you, but think my life happily spent in your service." I found

she was hardly content yet to believe what I told her of my boat to be

true; till I stepped into it, and pushing from the shore, took my oars

in my hand, and sailed along the lake by her, as she walked on the

shore. At last she seemed so well reconciled to me and my boat, that she

desired I would take her in. I immediately did so, and we sailed a good

way; and as we returned to my dock I described to her how I procured the

water we drank, and brought it to shore in that vessel.

"Well," says she, "I have sailed, as you call it, many a mile in my

lifetime, but never in such a thing as this. I own it will serve very

well where one has a great many things to carry from place to place; but

to be labouring thus at an oar when one intends pleasure in sailing, is

in my mind a most ridiculous piece of slavery."--"Why, pray, madam, how

would you have me sail? for getting into the boat only will not carry

us this way or that without using some force."--"But," says she, "pray,

where did you get this boat, as you call it?"--"O madam!" says I, "that

is too long and fatal a story to begin upon now; this boat was made many

thousand miles from hence, among a people coal-black, a quite different

sort from us; and, when I first had it, I little thought of seeing this

country; but I will make a faithful relation of all to you when we come

home." Indeed, I began to wish heartily we were there, for it grew into

the night; and having strolled so far without my gun, I was afraid of

what I had before seen and heard, and hinted our return; but I found my

motion was disagreeable to her, and so I dropped it.

I now perceived and wondered at it, that the later it grew the

more agreeable it seemed to her; and as I had now brought her into

good-humour again by seeing and sailing in my boat, I was not willing

to prevent its increase. I told her, if she pleased, we would land, and

when I had docked my boat, I would accompany her where and as long as

she liked. As we talked and walked by the lake, she made a little run

before me and sprung into it Perceiving this, I cried out, whereupon

she merrily called on me to follow her. The light was then so dim, as

prevented my having more than a confused sight of her when she jumped

in; and looking earnestly after her, I could discern nothing more than

a small boat in the water, which skimmed along at so great a rate that I

almost lost sight of it presently; but running along the shore for

fear of losing her, I met her gravely walking to meet me, and then

had entirely lost sight of the boat upon the lake. "This," says she,

accosting me with a smile, "is my way of sailing, which, I perceive, by

the fright you were in, you are altogether unacquainted with; and, as

you tell me you came from so many thousand miles off, it is possible

you may be made differently from me: but, surely we are the part of the

creation which has had most care bestowed upon it; and I suspect, from

all your discourse, to which I have been very attentive, it is possible

you may no more be able to fly than to sail as I do."--"No, charming

creature," says I, "that I cannot, I'll assure you." She then, stepping

to the edge of the lake, for the advantage of a descent before her,

sprung up into the air, and away she went farther than my eyes could

follow her.

I was quite astonished. "So," says I, "then all is over! all a delusion

which I have so long been in! a mere phantom! Better had it been for me

never to have seen her, than thus to lose her again! But what could

I expect had she stayed? For it is plain she is no human composition.

But," says I, "she felt like flesh, too, when I lifted her out at the

door!" I had but very little time for reflection; for, in about ten

minutes after she had left me in this mixture of grief and amazement,

she alighted just by me on her feet.

Her return, as she plainly saw, filled me with a transport not to be

concealed; and which, as she afterwards told me, was very agreeable to

her. Indeed, I was some moments in such an agitation of mind from these

unparalleled incidents, that I was like one thunder-struck; but coming

presently to myself, and clasping her in my arms with as much love and

passion as I was capable of expressing, and for the first time with

any desire,--"Are you returned again, kind angel," said I, "to bless a

wretch who can only be happy in adoring you? Can it be, that you, who

have so many advantages over me, should quit all the pleasures that

nature has formed you for, and all your friends and relations, to take

an asylum in my arms? But I here make you a tender of all I am able

to bestow--my love and constancy."--"Come, come," says she, "no more

raptures; I find you are a worthier man than I thought I had reason

to take you for, and I beg your pardon for my distrust whilst I was

ignorant of your imperfections; but now I verily believe all you have

said is true; and I promise you, as you have seemed so much to delight

in me, I will never quit you till death, or other as fatal accident

shall part us. But we will now, if you choose, go home; for I know you

have been some time uneasy in this gloom, though agreeable to me: for,

giving my eyes the pleasure of looking eagerly on you, it conceals my

blushes from your sight."

In this manner, exchanging mutual endearments and soft speeches, hand

in hand, we arrived at the grotto; where we that night consummated our

nuptials, without farther ceremony than mutual solemn engagements to

each other; which are, in truth, the essence of marriage, and all that

was there and then in our power.

The Life and Adventures of Peter Wilkins, Complete (Volumes 1 and 2) · 第 15 / 30 章