03 - Dream Tales and Prose Poems by Ivan Turgenev

Step into the mesmerizing world crafted by world-renowned Russian author Ivan Turgenev, as he presents a captivating collection of stories that delve into dreams, lost love, fleeting specters, and ominous premonitions. This anthology also features a selection of sketches and prose poems, all penned in Turgenevs deceptively simple but profoundly articulate style. These aren‚t your typical tales of romance and nature; instead, Turgenev intertwines a thread of cynicism and melancholy that enriches his poetic language, inviting readers to explore the deeper complexities of the human experience. (Summary by Ben Tucker)

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Section three of dream Tales and Prose Poems by Ivan Turgenieff.
Phantoms one instant, and the fairy tale is over, and
once again the actual fills the soul. Afanazzi fete one.
For a long time, I could not get to sleep,
and kept turning from side to side. Confound this foolishness

(00:24):
about table turning. I thought it simply upsets one's nerves.
Drowsiness began to overtake me. At last. Suddenly it seemed
to me as though there were the faint and plaintive
sound of a harp string in the room. I raised
my head. The moon was low in the sky and
looked me straight in the face. White as chalk lay
its light upon the floor. The strange sound was distinctly repeated.

(00:48):
I leaned on my elbow. A faint feeling of awe
plucked at my heart. A minute passed, another somewhere far away,
a cock crowed. Another answered, still more remote. I let
my head sink back to the pillow. See what one
can work one's self up to, I thought again, there's
a singing in my ears. After a little while, I

(01:11):
fell asleep, or I thought I fell asleep. I had
an extraordinary dream. I fancied I was lying in my room,
in my bed, and was not asleep, could not even
close my eyes, and again I heard the sound. I
turned over. The moonlight on the floor began softly to lift,
to rise up to round off slightly above before me,

(01:32):
impalpable as mist a white woman was standing motionless. Who
are you? I asked with an effort. A voice made answer,
like the rustle of leaves. It is I, I I.
I have come for you, for me, But who are you?
Come by night to the edge of the wood, where

(01:54):
there stands an old oak tree. I will be there.
I tried to look closely to the face of the
mysterious woman, and suddenly I gave an involuntary shudder. There
was a chilly breath upon me. And then I was
not lying down, but sitting up in my bed. And
where as I fancied, the phantom had stood, the moonlight

(02:14):
lay in a long streak of wide upon the floor.
Two the day passed. Somehow, I tried I remember to read,
to work. Everything was a failure. The night came. My
heart was throbbing within me, as though it expected something.
I lay down and turned with my face to the wall.

(02:34):
Why did you not come? Sounded a distinct whisper in
the room. I looked round quickly. Again she again, the
mysterious phantom, motionless eyes and a motionless face, and a
gaze full of sadness. Am I heard the whisper again?

(02:55):
I will come, I replied, with instinctive horror. The phantom
bent slowly forward and undulating faintly like smoke, melted away altogether,
and again the moon shone white and untroubled on the
smooth floor. Three. I passed the day in unrest. At supper,

(03:15):
I drank almost a whole bottle of wine and all
but went out on to the steps. But I turned
back and flung myself into my bed. My blood was
pulsing painfully. Again the sound was heard. I started, but
did not look round. All at once I felt that
some one had tight hold of me from behind and
was whispering in my very ear, Come, come, Come. Trembling

(03:40):
with terror, I moaned out, I will come, and sat up.
A woman stood stooping close to my very pillow. She
smiled dimly and vanished. I had time, though to make
out her face. It seemed to me I had seen
her before. But where when I got up late and
spent the whole day wandering about the country. I went

(04:02):
to the old oak at the edge of the forest
and looked carefully all around. Towards evening, I sat at
the open window in my study. My old housekeeper set
a cup of tea before me, but I did not
touch it. I kept asking myself in bewilderment. Am I
not going out of my mind? The sun had just set,
and not the sky alone was flushed with red. The

(04:24):
whole atmosphere was suddenly filled with an almost unnatural purple.
The leaves and grass never stirred, stiff as though freshly
coated with varnish, and their stony rigidity in the vivid
sharpness of their outlines. In this combination of intense brightness
and death like stillness, there was something weird and mysterious.

(04:45):
A rather large gray bird suddenly flew up, without a sound,
and settled on the very window sill. I looked at it,
and it looked at me sideways with its round dark eye.
Were you sent to remind me? Then? I wondered? At
once the bird fle uttered its soft wings, and without
a sound as before, flew away. I sat a long

(05:05):
time still at the window. But I was no longer
a prey to uncertainty. I had, as it were, come
within the enchanted circle, and I was borne along by
an irresistible though gentle force, as a boat is borne
along by the current long before it reaches the waterfall.
I started up at last. The purple had long vanished

(05:26):
from the air, The colors were darkened, and the enchanted
silence was broken. There was the flutter of a gust
of wind. The moon came out brighter and brighter in
the sky that was growing bluer, and soon the leaves
of the trees were weaving dark patterns of black and
silver in her cold beams. My old housekeeper came into
the study with a lighted candle, but there was a

(05:47):
draft from the window, and the flame went out. I
could restrain myself no longer. I jumped up, clapped on
my cap, and set off to the corner of the forest,
to the old oak tree four. The soak had many
years before been struck by lightning. The top of the
tree had been shattered and was withered up, but there

(06:07):
was still life left in it for centuries to come.
As I was coming up to it, a cloud passed
over the moon. It was very dark under its thick branches.
At first I noticed nothing special, but I glanced on
one side, and my heart fairly failed me. A white
figure was standing motionless beside a tall bush, between the
oak and the forest. My hair stood upright on my head,

(06:28):
but I plucked up my courage and went towards the forest. Yes,
it was she, my visitor of the night. As I
approached her, the moon shone out again. She seemed all
as it were spun out of half transparent milky mist.
Through her face. I could see a branch faintly stirring
in the wind. Only the hair and eyes were a

(06:50):
little dark, and on one of the fingers of her
clasped hands a slender ring shone with a gleam of
pale gold. I stood still before her and tried to speak,
but the voice died away in my throat. Though it
was no longer fear exactly, I felt her eyes were
turned upon me. Their gaze expressed neither distress nor delight,

(07:10):
but a sort of lifeless attention. I waited to see
whether she would utter a word, but she remained motionless
and speechless, and still gazed at me with her deathly
intent eyes dread came over me again. I have come,
I cried at last, with an effort. My voice sounded
muffled and strange to me. I love you, I heard

(07:32):
her whisper, you love me, I repeated, in amazement. Give
yourself up to me, was whispered me again in reply,
give myself up to you. But you are a phantom,
You have no body. Even a strange animation came upon me.
What are you? Smoke, air vapor? Give myself up to you?

(07:55):
Answer me first? Who are you? Have you lived upon
the earth? Whence have you come? Give yourself up to me.
I will do you no harm. Only say two words,
Take me. I looked at her. What is she saying?
I thought? What does it all mean? And how can

(08:16):
she take me? Shall I try very well? I said,
and unexpectedly loudly, as though some one had given me
a push from behind, Take me. I had hardly uttered
these words when the mysterious figure, with a sort of
inward laugh which set her face quivering for an instant,
bent forward and stretched out her arms wide apart. I

(08:39):
tried to dart away, but I was already in her power.
She seized me. My body rose afoot from the ground,
and we both floated smoothly and not too swiftly over
the wet, still grass five. At first I felt giddy,
and instinctively I closed my eyes. A minute later I
opened them again. We were floating as before, but the

(09:00):
forest was now nowhere to be seen. Under us stretched
a plain, spotted here and there with dark patches. With horror,
I felt that we had risen to a fearful height.
I am lost. I am in the power of Satan
flashed through me like lightning. Till that instant, the idea
of a temptation of the evil, one of the possibility

(09:20):
of perdition, had never entered my head. We still whirled
on and seemed to be mounting higher and higher. Where
will you take me, I moaned, At last, where you like,
my companion answered. She clung close to me. Her face
was almost resting upon my face, but I was scarcely
conscious of her touch. Let me sink down to the earth.

(09:43):
I am giddy at this height, very well. Only shut
your eyes and hold your breath. I obeyed, and at
once felt that I was falling like a stone flung
from the hand. The air whistled in my ears, when
I could think again. We were floating smoothly once more,
just above the ear earth, so that we caught our
feet in the tops of the tall grass. Put me

(10:04):
on my feet. I began, what pleasure is there in flying?
I'm not a bird. I thought you would like it.
We have no other pastime. You, then, what are you?
There was no answer. You don't dare to tell me
that the plaintive sound which had awakened me the first
night quivered in my ears. Meanwhile, we were still scarcely

(10:28):
perceptibly moving in the damp night air. Let me go,
I said. My companion moved slowly away, and I found
myself on my feet. She stopped before me and again
folded her hands. I grew more composed and looked into
her face, as before it expressed submissive sadness. Where are we?
I asked? I did not recognize the country about me,

(10:51):
far from your home, but you can be there in
an instant. How can that be done? By trusting myself
to you again? I have done you no harm and
will do you none. Let us fly till dawn. That
is all I can bear you away wherever you fancy,
to the ends of the earth. Give yourself up to me,
say only take me, well, take me. She again pressed

(11:16):
close to me. Again, my feet left the earth, and
we were flying six which way. She asked me, straight on,
keep straight on, but here is a forest. Lift us
over the forest, only slower. We darted upwards, like a
wild snipe, flying up into a birch tree, and again

(11:37):
flew on in a straight line. Instead of grass, we
caught glimpses of tree tops just under our feet. It
was strange to see the forest from above, its bristling
back lighted up by the moon. It looked like some huge,
slumbering wild beast, and accompanied us with a vast, unceasing murmur,
like some inarticulate roar. In one place, we crossed a

(11:58):
small glade intensely black. Was the jagged streak of shadow
along one side of it. Now and then there was
the plaintive cry of a hare below us. Above us,
the owl hooted plaintively too. There was a scent in
the air of mushrooms, buds, and dawn flowers. The moon
fairly flooded everything on all sides with its cold, hard light.

(12:20):
The pleiads gleamed just over our heads, and now the
forest was left behind. A streak of fog stretched out
across the open country. It was the river. We flew
along one of its banks, above the bushes, still, and
weighed down with moisture. The river's waters, at one moment
glimmered with a flash of blue, at another flowed on
in darkness as it were in wrath. Here and there,

(12:43):
a delicate mist moved strangely over the water, and the
water lilies cups shone white and maiden pomp, with every
petal opened to its full, as though they knew their
safety out of reach. I longed to pick one of them,
and behold, I found myself at once on the river's surface.
The damp air struck me an angry blow in the face,

(13:04):
just as I broke the thick stalk of a great flower.
We began to fly across from bank to bank, like
the water fowl. We were continually waking up and chasing
before us. More than once we chanced to swoop down
on a family of wild ducks settled in a circle
on an open spot among the reeds. But they did
not stir. At most one of them would thrust out
its neck from under its wing, stare at us and

(13:26):
anxiously poke its beak away again in its fluffy feathers,
and another faintly quacked while its body twitched a little
all over. We startled one heron it flew up out
of a willow bush, brandishing its legs and fluttering its
wings with clumsy eagerness. It struck me as remarkably like
a German. There was not the splash of a fish
to be heard. They too were asleep. I began to

(13:48):
get used to the sensation of flying, and even to
find a pleasure in it. Anyone will understand me who
has experienced flying in dreams. I proceeded to scrutinize with
close attention the strange being by whose good offices such
unlikely adventures had befallen me. Seven. She was a woman
with a small Unrussian face, grayish white, half transparent, with

(14:11):
scarcely marked shades. She reminded one of the alabaster figures
on a vase lighted up within, and again her face
seemed familiar to me. Can I speak with you? I asked, Speak,
I see a ring on your finger. You have lived,
then on the earth, you have been married? I waited.
There was no answer. What is your name, or at

(14:32):
least what was it? Call me Alice? Alice, that's an
English name. Are you an English woman? Did you know
me in former days? No? Why is it? Then you
have come to me. I love you and are you content? Yes?
We float? We whirled together in the fresh air. Alice,

(14:54):
I said, all at once, you are perhaps a sinful,
condemned soul. My companion's had bent towards me. I don't
understand you, she murmured. I adjure you in God's name,
I was beginning. What are you saying? She put, in perplexity,
I don't understand. I fancied that the arm that lay

(15:16):
like a chilly girdle about my waist softly trembled. Don't
be afraid, said Alice. Don't be afraid, my dear one.
Her face turned and moved towards my face. I felt
on my lips a strange sensation, like the faintest prick
of a soft and delicate sting. Leeches might prick. So
in mild and drowsy mood, eight, I glanced downwards. We

(15:39):
had now risen again to a considerable height. We were
flying over some provincial town I did not know, situated
on the side of a wide slope. Churches rose up
high among the dark mass of wooden roofs and orchards.
A long bridge stood out black at the bend of
a river. Everything was hushed, buried in slumber. The very
crosses and cupolas seemed to gleam with a silent brilliance.

(16:02):
Silently stood the tall posts of the wells, beside the
round tops of the willows. Silently. The straight whitish road
darted arrow like into one end of the town, and
silently it ran out again at the opposite end, on
to the dark waste of monotonous fields. What town is this,
I asked x X in y province. Yes, I'm a

(16:26):
long distance indeed from home. Distance is not for us. Really,
I was fired by a sudden recklessness. Then take me
to South America. To America. I cannot. It's daylight there
by now, and we are night birds well anywhere where
you can only far far away. Shut your eyes and

(16:48):
hold your breath, answered Alice, And we flew along with
the speed of a whirlwind, with a deafening noise. The
air rushed into my ears. We stopped, but the noise
did not cease. On the contrary, it changed into a
sort of menacing roar, the roll of thunder. Now you
can open your eyes, said Alice nine. I obeyed, Good God,

(17:12):
where was I overhead? Ponderous smoke like storm clouds, They huddled,
they moved on like a herd of furious monsters. And
there below another monster, a raging, yes, raging see the
white foam, gleaming with spasmodic fury, and surged up in
hillocks upon it and hurling up shaggy billows. It beat

(17:34):
with a sullen roar against a huge cliff black as pitch.
The howling of the tempest, the chilling gasp of the
storm rocked abyss, the weighty splash of the breakers, in
which from time to time one fancied something like a wail,
like distant cannon shots like a bell ringing, The tearing
crunch and grind of the shingle on the beach, the

(17:54):
sudden shriek of an unseen gull on the murky horizon,
the disabled hulk of the ship on every side. Death, death,
in horror, giddiness overcame me, and I shut my eyes
again with a sinking heart. What is this? Where are
we on the south coast of the Isle of wight,
opposite the black gang Cliff, where ships are so often wrecked,

(18:17):
said Alice, speaking this time with peculiar distinctness, and as
it seemed to me, with a certain malignant pleasure, Take
me away away from here, home Home. I shrank up,
hid my face in my hands. I felt that we
were moving faster than before. The wind now was not
roaring or moaning. It whistled in my hair and my clothes.

(18:39):
I caught my breath. Stand on your feet now, I
heard Alice's voice, saying, I tried to master myself, to
regain consciousness. I felt the earth under the soles of
my feet, and I heard nothing, as though everything had
swooned away around me, only in my temples. The blood
throbbed irregularly, and my head was still giddy, with a
faint ringing in my ears. I drew myself up and

(19:02):
opened my eyes. Ten We were on the bank of
my pond. Straight before me. There were glimpses through the
pointed leaves of the willows, of its broad surface, with
threads of fluffy mist clinging here and there upon it
to the right, a field of rye, shone dimly. On
the left stood up my orchard trees tall, rigid, drenched,

(19:22):
it seemed, and dew The breath of the morning was
already upon them. Across the pure gray sky stretched like
streaks of smoke, two or three slanting clouds. They had
a yellowish tinge. The first faint glow of dawn fell
on them. One could not say whence it came. The
eye could not detect on the horizon, which was gradually
growing lighter, the spot where the sun was to rise,

(19:46):
the stars had disappeared. Nothing was astir yet, though everything
was already on the point of awakening, in the enchanted
stillness of the morning twilight. Morning, See it is morning,
cried Alice in my ear, farewell till tomorrow. I turned round,
lightly rising from the earth, she floated by, and suddenly

(20:07):
she raised both hands above her head. The head and
hands and shoulders glowed for an instant with warm, corporeal light.
Living sparks gleamed in the dark eyes. A smile of
mysterious tenderness stirred the reddening lips. A lovely woman had
suddenly arisen before me, But as though dropping into a swoon,
she fell back instantly and melted away like vapor. I

(20:29):
remained passive When I recovered myself and looked round me,
it seemed to me that the corporeal, pale rosy color
that had flitted over the figure of my phantom had
not yet vanished, and was enfolding me diffused in the air.
It was the flush of dawn all at once. I
was conscious of extreme fatigue and turned homewards. As I

(20:51):
passed the poultry yard, I heard the first morning cackling
of the geese. No birds wake earlier than they do.
Along the roof. At the end of each bee sat
a rook, and they were all busily and silently pluming themselves,
standing out in sharp outline against the milky sky. From
time to time they all rose at once, and after
a short flight, settled again in a row without uttering.

(21:14):
A caw from the wood close by came twice repeated
the drowsy, fresh chuck chuck of the black cock, beginning
to fly into the dewy grass overgrown by brambles, with
a faint trimmer all over me. I made my way
to my bed and soon fell into a sound sleep.
Eleven the next night, as I was approaching the old oak,

(21:35):
Alice moved to meet me as if I were an
old friend. I was not afraid of her as I
had been the day before. I was almost rejoiced at
seeing her. I did not even attempt to comprehend what
was happening to me. I was simply longing to fly
farther to interesting places. Alice's arm again twined about me,
and we took flight again. Let us go to Italy,

(21:57):
I whispered in her ear. Wherever you wish, my dear one,
she answered, solemnly, and slowly, and slowly and solemnly, she
turned her face towards me. It struck me as less
transparent then on the eve, more womanlike and more imposing.
It recalled to me the being I had had a
glimpse of in the early dawn at parting. This night

(22:20):
is a great night, Alice went on. It comes rarely
when seven times thirteen. At this point I could not
catch a few words. To night, we can see what
is hidden at other times, Alice, I implored, But who
are you tell me? At last, silently, she lifted her

(22:40):
long white hand. In the dark sky. Where her finger
was pointing, a comet flashed a reddish streak among the
tiny stars. How am I to understand you? I began
or as that comet floats between the planets and the sun.
Do you float among men or what? But Alice's hand

(23:00):
was suddenly passed before my eyes. It was as though
a white mist from the damp valley had fallen on me.
To Italy, to Italy, I heard her whisper, this night
is a great night. Twelve. The mist cleared away from
before my eyes, and I saw below me an immense plaine.

(23:21):
But already, by the mere breath of the warm, soft
air upon my cheeks, I could tell I was not
in Russia. And the plain, too, was not like our
Russian plains. It was a vast, dark expanse, apparently desert,
and not overgrown with grass here and there over its
whole extent. Gleamed pools of water, like broken pieces of
looking glass. In the distance could be dimly descried. A noiseless,

(23:45):
motionless sea. Great stars shone bright in the spaces between
the big beautiful clouds. The murmur of thousands, subdued but
never ceasing, rose on all sides. And very strange was
this shrill but drowsy chorus, this voice of the darkness
and the desert the Pontine marshes, said Alice, do you

(24:06):
hear the frogs? Do you smell the sulfur? Pontine marshes?
I repeated, and a sense of grandeur and of desolation
came upon me. But why have you brought me here
to this gloomy, forsaken place. Let us fly to Rome instead,
Rome is near, answered Alice. Prepare yourself. We sank lower

(24:29):
and flew along an ancient Roman road. A bullock slowly
lifted from the slimy mud, its shaggy, monstrous head with
short tufts of bristles between its crooked, backward bent horns.
It turned the whites of its dull, malignant eyes askance,
and sniffed a heavy, snorting breath into its wet nostrils,
as though scenting us Rome, Rome is near, whispered Alice. Look,

(24:52):
look in front. I raised my eyes. What was the
blur of black on the edge of the night sky?
Were these the lofty arch of an immense bridge? What
river did it span? Why was it broken down in parts? No,
it was not a bridge. It was an ancient aqueduct.
All around was the holy ground of the Campagna. And

(25:13):
there in the distance the Albanian hills and their peaks,
and the gray ridge of the old aqueduct gleamed dimly
in the beams of the rising moon. We suddenly darted
upwards and floated in the air before a deserted ruin.
No one could have said what it had been sepulcher
palace or castle. Dark ivy encircled it all over in

(25:33):
its deadly clasp, and below gaped yawning a half ruined vault.
A heavy underground smell rose in my face from this
heap of tiny, close fitted stones. Whence the granite facing
of the wall had long crumbled away. Here, Alice pronounced,
and she raised her hand. Here call aloud, three times,

(25:54):
running the name of the mighty Roman. What will happen?
You will see, I wondered, Divas Caius Julius Caesar, I
cried suddenly, Divus Caius Julius Caesar, I repeated, deliberately, Caesar thirteen.
The last echoes of my voice had hardly died away

(26:16):
when I heard. It is difficult to say what I
did here. At first there reached me a confused din.
The ear could scarcely catch the endlessly repeated clamor of
the blare of trumpets and the clapping of hands. It
seemed that somewhere, immensely far away, at some fathomless depth,

(26:36):
a multitude innumerable was suddenly astir and was rising up,
rising up in agitation, calling to one another faintly, as
if muffled in sleep, the suffocating sleep of ages. Then
the air began moving in dark currents over the ruin.
Shades began flitting before me, myriads of shades, millions of outlines,

(26:57):
the rounded curves of helmets, the long star straight lines
of lances. The moonbeams were broken into momentary gleams of blue.
Upon these helmets and lances, and all this army, this multitude,
came closer and closer, and grew in more and more
rapid movement. An indescribable force, a force fit to set

(27:17):
the whole world moving, could be felt in it. But
not one figure stood out clearly. And suddenly I fancied
a sort of trimmer ran all round, as if it
were the rush and rolling apart of some huge waves. Caesar, Caesar,
Venit sounded voices like the leaves of a forest when
a storm has suddenly broken upon it. A muffled shout

(27:39):
thundered through the multitude, and a pale stern head in
a wreath of laurel, with downcast eyelids. The head of
an emperor began slowly to rise out of the ruin.
There was no word in the tongue of man to
express the horror which clutched at my heart. I felt
that were that head to raise its eyes to part

(27:59):
its lips, I must perish on the spot. Alice, I moaned.
I won't, I can't. I don't want rome, coarse, terrible Rome.
Away away from here, coward, she whispered, And away we flew.
I just had time to hear behind me the iron
voice of the legions, like a peal of thunder. Then

(28:23):
all was darkness. Fourteen look round, Alice said to me,
and don't fear. I obeyed, and I remember my first
impression was so sweet that I could only sigh. A
sort of smoky gray, silvery soft, half light, half mist
enveloped me on all sides. At first I made out nothing.

(28:46):
I was dazzled by this azure brilliance. But little by
little began to emerge the outlines of beautiful mountains and forests.
A lake lay at my feet, with stars quivering in
its depths, and the musical plash of waves. The fragrance
of orange flowers met me with a rush. And with it,
and also, as it were, with a rush, came floating

(29:08):
the pure, powerful notes of a woman's young voice. This fragrance,
this music, fairly drew me downwards, and I began to sink,
to sink down towards a magnificent marble palace, which stood
invitingly white in the midst of a wood of Cyprus.
The music flowed out from its wide open windows, the
waves of the lake, flecked with the pollen of flowers

(29:30):
splashed upon its walls, and just opposite, all clothed in
the dark green of orange flowers and laurels, enveloped in
shining mist, and studded with statues, slender columns, and the
porticoes of temples, A lofty round island rose out of
the water. Is so Labella, said Alice Lago Margiori. I

(29:51):
murmured only ah, and continued to drop. The woman's voice
sounded louder and clearer in the palace. I was irres
xystibly drawn towards it. I wanted to look at the
face of the singer, who, in such music gave voice
to such a night. We stood still before the window
in the center of a room furnished in the style

(30:12):
of Pompeii, and more like an ancient temple than a
modern drawing room, surrounded by Greek statues, Etruscan vases, rare plants,
and precious stuffs, lighted up by the soft radiance of
two lamps enclosed in crystal globes. A young woman was
sitting at the piano, her head slightly bowed and her
eyes half closed. She sang an Italian melody. She sang

(30:35):
and smiled, and at the same time her face wore
an expression of gravity, almost of sternness, a token of
perfect rapture. She smiled, and Praxitele's fawn, indolent, youthful as she,
effeminate and voluptuous, seemed to smile back at her from
a corner under the branches of an oleander, across the

(30:55):
delicate smoke that curled upwards from a bronze censer on
an antique true the beautiful singer was alone, spellbound by
the music, her beauty, the splendor and sweet fragrance of
the night. Moved to the heart by the picture of
this youthful, serene and untroubled happiness. I utterly forgot my companion,
I forgot the strange way in which I had become

(31:17):
a witness of this life, so remote, so completely apart
from me. And I was on the point of tapping
at the window of speaking. I was set trembling all
over by a violent shock, just as though I had
touched a galvanic battery. I looked round. The face of
Alice was, for all its transparency, dark and menacing. There
was a dull glow of anger in her eyes, which

(31:39):
were suddenly wide and round. Away she murmured wrathfully, and again,
whirling in darkness and giddiness, only this time not the
shout of legions, but the voice of the singer, breaking
on a high note, lingered in my ears. We stopped
the high note. The same note was still ringing, and
did not cease to ring in my ears. Though I

(32:01):
was breathing quite a different air, a different scent. A
breeze was blowing upon me, fresh and invigorating, as though
from a great river, and there was a smell of hay,
smoke and hemp. The long drawn out note was followed
by a second and a third, but with an expression
so unmistakable, a trill so familiar, so peculiarly our own,

(32:23):
that I said to myself at once, that's a Russian singing,
a Russian song. And at that very instant everything grew
clear about me. Fifteen we found ourselves on a flat
river side plain. To the left, newly mown meadows with
rows of huge hay ricks stretched endlessly till they were
lost in the distance. To the right extended the smooth

(32:47):
surface of a vast, mighty river, till it, too was
lost in the distance. Not far from the bank, big
dark barges slowly rocked at anchor, slightly tilting their slender
masts like pointing fingers. From one of these barges came
floating up to me the sounds of a liquid voice,
and a fire was burning in it, throwing a long
red light that danced and quivered on the water. Here

(33:10):
and there, both on the river and in the fields,
other lights were glimmering, Whether close at hand or far away,
the eye could not distinguish. They shrank together, then suddenly
lengthened out into great blurs of light. Grasshoppers innumerable kept
up an unceasing churr, persistent as the frogs of the
Pontine marshes, and across the cloudless but dark, lowering sky

(33:33):
floated from time to time the cries of unseen birds.
Are we in Russia? I asked of Alice. It is
the Vulga, she answered, We flew along the river bank.
Why did you tear me away from there? From that
lovely country? I began, Were you envious? Or was it
jealousy in you? The lips of Alice faintly stirred, and

(33:56):
again there was a menacing light in her eyes, but
her whole face grew stone again at once. I want
to go home, I said, Wait a little, wait a little,
answered Alice. To night is a great night. It will
not soon return. You may be a spectator. Wait a little,
and we suddenly flew across the Vulga in a slanting direction,

(34:18):
keeping close to the water's surface, with the low, impetuous
flight of swallows. Before a storm. The broad waves murmured
heavily below us. The sharp river breeze beat upon us
with its strong, cold wing. The high right bank began
soon to rise up before us. In the half darkness.
Steep mountains appeared with great ravines between. We came near

(34:40):
to them, shout, lads to the barges, Alice whispered to me.
I remember the terror I had suffered at the apparition
of the Roman phantoms. I felt weary and strangely heavy,
as though my heart were ebbing away within me. I
wished not to utter the fatal words. I knew beforehand
that in response as to them, there would appear, as

(35:01):
in the wolves Valley of the frieshoots, some monstrous thing.
But my lips parted against my will, and in a weak,
forced voice, I shouted, also against my will, lads to
the barges sixteen. At first all was silence, even as
it was at the Roman ruins. But suddenly I heard,

(35:24):
close to my very ear a coarse bargeman's laugh, and
with a moan, something dropped into the water, and a
gurgling sound followed. I looked round. No one was anywhere
to be seen, but from the bank the echo came
bounding back, and at once from all sides rose a
deafening din. There was a medley of everything in this
chaos of sound, shouting and whining, furious abuse and laughter, laughter,

(35:50):
above everything, the plash of oars and the cleaving of hatchets,
a crash as of the smashing of doors and chests,
the grating of rigging and wheels, and the neighing of horses,
and the clang of the alarm bell and clink of chains,
the roaring crackle of fire, drunken songs and quick gnashing chatter, weeping, inconsolable, plaintive,
despairing prayers and shouts of command. The dying gasp and

(36:13):
the reckless whistle, the guffaw and the thought of the dance.
Kill them, hang them, drowned them, rep them up, Bravo, bravo,
don't spare them could be heard distinctly. I could even
hear the hurried breathing of men panting. And meanwhile, all around,
as far as the eye could reach, nothing could be seen.

(36:33):
Nothing was changed. The river rolled by mysteriously, almost sullenly.
The very bank seemed more deserted and desolate, and that
was all. I turned to Alice, but she put her
finger to her lips. Step on timofitch, step on timofitch
is coming, shouted noisily all round. He is coming, our father,

(36:53):
a rattaman, a bread giver. As before, I saw nothing,
but it seemed to me as though a huge body
were moving star right at me Froca, where art thou
dog thundered an awful voice, such fire to every corner
at once, and to the hatchet with them, the white
handed scoundrels. I felt the hot breath of the flame

(37:14):
close by, and tasted the bitter savor of the smoke,
and at the same instant something warm like blood spurted
over my face and hands. A savage roar of laughter
broke out all round. I lost consciousness, and when I
came to myself, Alice and I were gliding along beside
the familiar bushes that bordered my wood, straight towards the
old oak. Do you see the little path, Alice said

(37:38):
to me, where the moon shines dimly, and where are
two birch trees overhanging? Will you go there? But I
felt so shattered and exhausted that I could only say
in reply, home, Home. You are at home, replied Alice.
I was, in fact standing at the very door of
my house alone. Alice had vanished the yard dog was

(38:02):
about to approach. He scanned me suspiciously, and with a bark,
ran away. With difficulty. I dragged myself up to my
bed and fell asleep without undressing. Seventeen all the following morning,
my head ached and I could scarcely move my legs.
But I cared little for my bodily discomfort. I was
devoured by regret, overwhelmed with vexation. I was excessively annoyed

(38:26):
with myself. Coward, I repeated incessantly, Yes, Alice was right.
What was I frightened of? How could I miss such
an opportunity? I might have seen Caesar himself, and I
was senseless with terror. I whimpered and turned away like
a child at the sight of the rod. Rozen. Now
that's another matter as a nobleman and landowner. Though indeed,

(38:51):
even then, what had I really to fear? Coward? Coward?
But wasn't it all a dream? I asked myself. At last,
I called my housekeeper, Marfa. What o'clock did I go
to bed yesterday? Do you remember why? Who can tell? Master?
Late enough? Surely before it was quite dark you went

(39:13):
out of the house and you were tramping about in
your bedroom when the night was more than half over.
Just on morning. Yes, and this is the third day
it's been the same. You've something on your mind. It's
easy to see. Ah ha, I thought, then, there's no
doubt about the flying well. And how do I look
to day? I added aloud, how do you look? Let

(39:36):
me have a look at you. You've got dinner a bit, yes,
and you're pale. Master to be sure there's not a
drop of blood in your face. I felt a slight
twinge of uneasiness. I dismissed, Marfa. Why going on like this?
You'll die or go out of your mind, perhaps, I
reasoned with myself as I sat deep in thought at

(39:56):
the window. I must give it all up. It's dangerou
And now my heart beats so strangely. And when I fly,
I keep feeling as though someone were sucking at it,
or as it were drawing something out of it, as
the spring sap is drawn out of the birch tree
if you stick an axe into it. I'm sorry, though,

(40:18):
and Alice too. She is playing cat and mouse with me.
Still she can hardly wish me harm. I will give
myself up to her for the last time and then,
but if she is drinking my blood, that's awful. Besides,
such rapid locomotion cannot fail to be injurious. Even in England,
I'm told on the railways it's against the law to

(40:40):
go more than one hundred miles an hour, so I
reasoned with myself. But at ten o'clock in the evening,
I was already at my post before the old oak
tree eighteen. The night was cold, dull, gray. There was
a feeling of rain in the air. To my amazement,
I found no one under the oak. I walked several

(41:00):
times round it, went up to the edge of the wood,
turned back again, peered anxiously into the darkness. All was emptiness.
I waited a little, then several times I uttered the
name Alice, each time a little outer, but she did
not appear. I felt sad, almost sick at heart. My

(41:20):
previous apprehensions vanished. I could not resign myself to the
idea that my companion would not come back to me again. Alice, Alice, come,
Can it be you will not come? I shouted for
the last time. A crow, who had been waked by
my voice, suddenly darted upwards into a tree top close by, and,
catching in the twigs, fluttered his wings, but Alice did

(41:43):
not appear. With downcast head, I turned homewards. Already I
could discern the black outlines of the willows on the
pond's edge, and the light in my window, peeped out
at me through the apple trees in the orchard, peeped
at me, and hit again, like the eye of some
man keeping watch on me. When suddenly I heard behind
me the faint swish of the rapidly parted air, and

(42:06):
something at once embraced and snatched me upward, as a
buzzard pounces on and snatches up a quail. It was Alice,
sweeping down upon me. I felt her cheek against my cheek,
her unfolding arm about my body, and like a cutting
cold her whisper pierced to my ear. Here I am.
I was frightened and delighted, both at once. We flew

(42:28):
at no great height above the ground. You did not
mean to come to day, I said, And you were
dull without me. You love me, Oh, you are mine,
The last words of Alice confused me. I did not
know what to say. I was kept, she went on,
I was watched. Who could keep you? Where would you

(42:52):
like to go? Inquired Alice, as usual, not answering my question.
Take me to Italy, to that lake, you remember. Alice
turned a little away and shook her head in refusal.
At that point, I noted, for the first time that
she had ceased to be transparent, and her face seemed
tinged with color. There was a faint glow of red

(43:12):
over its misty whiteness. I glanced at her eyes and
felt a pang of dread. And those eyes something was
astir with the slow, continuous, malignant movement of the benumbed snake,
twisting and turning as the sun begins to thought Alice,
I cried, who are you? Tell me who you are?

(43:34):
Alice simply shrugged her shoulders. I felt angry. I longed
to punish her, and suddenly the idea occurred to me
to tell her to fly with me to Paris. That's
the place for you to be jealous, I thought Alice,
I said aloud, you are not afraid of big towns Paris,
for instance. No, not even those parts where it is

(43:54):
as light as in the boulevards. It is not the
light of day. Good, then take me at once to
the Boulevard des Italienne. Alice rapped the end of her
long hanging sleeve about my head. I was at once
enfolded in a sort of white vapor, full of the
drowsy fragrance of the poppy. Everything disappeared at once, every light,

(44:15):
every sound, and almost consciousness itself. Only the sense of
being alive remained, and that was not unpleasant. Suddenly the
vapor vanished. Alice took her sleeve from my head, and
I saw at my feet a huge mass of closely
packed buildings, brilliant light, movement, noisy traffic. I saw Paris nineteen.

(44:39):
I had been in Paris before, and so I recognized
at once the place to which Alice had directed her course.
It was the garden of the Tuileries, with its old
chestnut trees, its iron railings, its fortress mote, and its
brutal looking zouave sentinels. Passing the Palace, passing the church
of Saint Roche, on the steps of which the first

(45:00):
Napoleon for the first time shed French blood, we came
to a halt, high over the boulevard the Italian, where
the third Napoleon did the same thing and with the
same success. Crowds of people, dandies, young and old, workmen
in blouses, women in gaudy dresses were thronging on the pavements.
The gilded restaurants and cafes were flaring with lights, omnibuses,

(45:22):
carriages of all sorts and shapes moved to and fro
along the boulevard. Everything was bustle, everything was brightness wherever
one chanced to look. But strange to say, I had
no inclination to forsake my pure, dark, airy height. I
had no inclination to get nearer to this human ant hill.
It seemed as though a hot, heavy, reddish vapor rose

(45:44):
from it, half fragrance, half stench. So many lives were flung,
struggling in one heap together. There I was hesitating, but suddenly,
sharp as the clang of iron bars, the voice of
a harlot of the streets floated up to me, like
an insolent tongue. It was thrust out, this voice. It
stung me like the sting of a viper. At once

(46:04):
I saw an imagination, the strong, heavy jawed, greedy, flat
Parisian face, the mercenary eyes, the paint and powder, the
frizzed hair, and the nosegay of gaudy artificial flowers under
the high pointed hat, the polished nails like talons, the
hideous crinoline. I could fancy too, one of our sons
of the steps, running with pitiful eagerness after the doll

(46:27):
put up for sale. I could fancy him with clumsy
coarseness and violent stammering, trying to imitate the manners of
the waiters at Viffur's mincing, flattering, wheedling, and a feeling
of loathing gained possession of me. No, I thought, here,
Alice has no need to be jealous. Meanwhile, I perceived

(46:48):
that we had gradually begun to descend. Paris was rising
to meet us with all its din and odor stop.
I said to Alice, are you not stifled and oppressed here?
You asked me to bring you here yourself. I am
to blame. I take back my word. Take me away, Alice.
I beseech you to be sure. Here is Prince Kolmmenttov

(47:09):
hobbling along the boulevard, and his friend Sergey Veraxen waving
his hand to him, shouting Ivan stoppanitch alone, supper, make
haste jeer ungazar rigolbouchet itself. Take me away from these
furnished apartments and maison dreys, from the jockey club and
the Figaro, from close shaven military heads and varnished barracks,

(47:31):
from Sarjean de Ville with Napoleonic beards and from glasses
of muddy absinthe, from gamblers playing dominoes at the cafes
and gamblers on the bourse, From red ribbons and buttonholes.
From Monsieur de Forurt, inventor of matrimonial specialties, and the
gratuitous consultations of doctor Charles Albert. From liberal lectures and

(47:53):
government pamphlets. From Parisian comedies and Parisian operas. From Parisian
wit and Parisian ignorance. Away, away, away, Look down, Alice answered,
you are not now in Paris. I lowered my eyes.
It was true. A dark plain intersected here and there
by the whitish lines of roads, was rushing rapidly by

(48:15):
below us, and only behind us on the horizon, like
the reflection of an immense conflagration, rose the great glow
of the innumerable lights of the capital of the world.
Twenty again a veil fell over my eyes. Again I
lost consciousness. The veil was withdrawn at last. What was

(48:36):
it down there below? What was this park with avenues
of lopped lime trees, with isolated fir trees, of the
shape of parasols, with porticoes and temples in the Pompadoor style,
the statues of satyrs and nymphs of the Bernini school,
with Rococo tritons in the midst of meandering lakes, closed
in by low parapets of blackened marble. Wasn't it Versailles, No,

(49:00):
it was not Versailles. A small palace also Rococo peeped
out behind a clump of bushy oaks. The moon shone dimly,
shouted and mist, and over the earth there was, as
it were, spread out, a delicate smoke. The eye could
not decide what it was, whether moonlight or fog. On
one of the lakes, a swan was asleep. Its long

(49:21):
back was white as the snow of the frost bound steps,
while glow worms gleamed like diamonds, and the bluish shadow
at the base of a statue. We are near Manheim,
said Alice. This is the Schwetzingen garden. We are in Germany,
I thought, and I fell to listening. All was silence,

(49:42):
except somewhere secluded an unseen the splash and babble of
falling water. It seemed continually to repeat the same words aye, aye, aye,
for eye aye and all at once. I fancied that
in the very center of one of the avenues. Between
clipped walls of green. A cavalier came tripping along in

(50:02):
red hilled boots, a gold braided coat with lace ruffs
at his wrists, a light steel rapier at his thigh,
smilingly offering his arm to a lady in a powdered
wig and a gay chintz strange pale faces. I tried
to look into them, but already everything had vanished, and
as before, there was nothing but the babbling water. Those

(50:24):
are dreams, wandering, whispered Alice. Yesterday there was much, oh
much to see to day, even the dreams avoid man's eye. Forward, Forward,
we soared higher and flew farther on. So smooth and
easy was our flight that it seemed that we moved
not but everything moved to meet us. Mountains came into view, dark, undulating,

(50:50):
covered with forest. They rose up and swam towards us,
And now they were slipping by beneath us, with all
their windings, hollows and narrow glades, with gleams of light
night from rapid brooks, among the slumbering trees at the
bottom of the dales, and in front of us, more
mountains sprung up again, and floated towards us. We were
in the heart of the black forest. Mountains still mountains,

(51:15):
and forest magnificent, ancient, stately forest. The night sky was clear.
I could recognize some kinds of trees, especially the splendid
firs with their straight white trunks. Here and there on
the edge of the forest, wild goats could be seen,
graceful and alert. They stood on their slender legs and listened,
turning their heads prettily and pricking up their great funnel

(51:36):
shaped ears. A ruined tower, sightless and gloomy, on the
crest of a bare cliff, laid bare its crumbling turrets.
Above the old forgotten stones, A little golden star was
shining peacefully from a small, almost black lake rose like
a mysterious whale. The plaintive croak of tiny frogs, I fancied,
other notes, long drawn out, languid, like the strains of

(51:59):
an Aeolian harp. Here we were in the home of legend.
The same delicate moonlight mist which had struck me in Schwetzingen,
was shed here on every side, and the farther away
the mountains. The thicker was this mist. I counted up five, six,
ten different tones of shadow at different heights, on the
mountain slopes, and over all this realm of varied silence.

(52:23):
The moon queened it pensively, the air blue and soft
like currents. I felt myself a lightness at heart, and,
as it were, a lofty calm and melancholy. Alice, you
must love this country. I love nothing, how so not me,
Yes you, she answered indifferently. It seemed to me that

(52:46):
her arm clasped my waist more tightly than before. Forward, Forward,
said Alice, with a sort of cold fervor. Forward, I
repeated twenty one. A loud, thrilling cry rang out suddenly
over our heads, and was at once repeated a little
in front. Those are belated cranes flying to you to

(53:08):
the north, said Alice. Would you like to join them? Yes? Yes,
raise me up to them. We darted upwards, and in
one instant found ourselves beside the flying flock. The big
handsome birds there were thirteen of them, were flying in
a triangle with slow, sharp flaps of their hollow wings,
With their heads and legs stretched rigidly out, and their

(53:32):
breasts stiffly pressed forward. They pushed on persistently and so
swiftly that the air whistled about them. It was marvelous,
at such a height, so remote from all things living,
to see such passionate, strenuous life, such unflinching will, untiringly
cleaving their triumphant way through space. The cranes now and

(53:52):
then called to one another, the foremost to the hindmost.
And there was a certain pride, dignity, and invincible faith
in these loud cries, this converse in the clouds, we
shall get there, be sure, hard though it be, they
seemed to say, cheering one another on. And then the
thought came to me that men such as these birds

(54:13):
in Russia, nay, in the whole world, are few. We
are flying towards Russia. Now, observed Alice. I noticed now
not for the first time, that she almost always knew
what I was thinking of. Would you like to go back,
Let us go back, or no, I've been to Paris,

(54:33):
Take me to Saint Petersburg. Now at once, only wrap
my head in your veil, or it will go ill
with me. Alice raised her hand, But before the mist
enfolded me, I had time to feel on my lips
the contact of that soft, dull sting twenty two blessn
sounded in my ears, a long, drawn out cry. The

(54:57):
sun was echoed back with the sort of desperation. In
the distance. The sun died away, somewhere, far, far away,
I started. A tall golden spire flashed on my eyes.
I recognized the fortress of Saint Peter and Saint Paul.
A northern, pale night. But was it night at all?

(55:18):
Was it not rather a pallid, sickly daylight. I never
liked Petersburg nights, but this time the night seemed even
fearful to me. The face of Alice had vanished, completely,
melted away like the mist of morning in the July sun.
And I saw her whole body clearly, as it hung
heavy and solitary, on a level with the Alexander Column.

(55:40):
So here was Petersburg. Yes, it was Petersburg, no doubt.
The wide empty gray streets, the grayish white and yellowish
gray and grayish lilac houses covered with stucco which was
peeling off with their sunken windows, gaudy sign boards, iron
canopies over steps, and wretched little green gros shops. The facades, inscriptions,

(56:03):
sentry boxes, troughs, the golden cap of Saint Isaac's the
senseless motley bores, the granite walls of the fortress and
the broken wooden pavement, the barges loaded with hay and timber,
the smell of dust, cabbage matting and hemp, the stony
faced de Vornicks and sheepskin coats with high collars. The

(56:23):
cab drivers huddled up dead asleep on their decrepit cabs. Yes,
this was Petersburg, our northern Palmyra. Everything was visible, everything
was clear, cruelly clear and distinct, and everything was mournfully sleeping,
standing out in strange huddled masses and the dull clear air.

(56:44):
The flush of sunset, a hectic flush, had not yet gone,
and would not be gone till morning. From the white,
starless sky. It was reflected on the silken surface of
the Nava. While faintly gurgling and faintly moving, the cold
blue waves hurried on. Let us fly away, Alice implored,

(57:04):
and without waiting for my reply, she bore me away
across the Nava, over the Palace Square to Littany Street.
Steps and voices were audible beneath us. A group of
young men with worn faces came along the street, talking
about dancing classes. Sub Lieutenant Stolpakov seventh shouted suddenly a
soldier standing half asleep on guard at a pyramid of

(57:25):
rusty bullets, and a little farther on, at an open
window in a tall house, I saw a girl in
a creased silk dress without cuffs, with a pearl net
on her hair and a cigarette in her mouth. She
was reading a book with reverent attention. It was a
volume of the works of one of our modern juveniles.
Let us fly away, I said to Alice, one instant more.

(57:48):
And there were glimpses below us of the rotting pine,
copses and mossy bogs surrounding Petersburg. We bent our course
straight to the south sky. Earth all grew gradually darker
and darker. Sick night, the sick daylight, the sick town,
all were left behind us. Twenty three. We flew more

(58:09):
slowly than usual, and I was able to follow with
my eyes the immense expanse of my native land, gradually
unfolding before me, like the unrolling of an endless panorama. Forests, copses, fields, ravines,
rivers here in their villages and churches, and again in
fields and forests, and copses and ravines, sadness came over me,

(58:31):
in a kind of indifferent dreariness. And I was not
sad and dreary simply because it was Russia. I was
flying over no, the Earth itself, this flat surface which
lay spread out beneath me, the whole earthly globe, with
its populations, multitudinous, feeble, crushed by want, grief and diseases,

(58:51):
bound to a cloud of pitiful dust, this brittle, rough crust,
this shell over the fiery sands of our planet, overspread
with the mildew, call the organic vegetable kingdom. These human flies,
a thousand times paltrier than flies, Their dwellings glew together
with filth, the pitiful traces of their tiny, monotonous bustle,

(59:12):
of their comic struggle, with the unchanging and inevitable, How
revolting it all suddenly was to me, My heart turned
slowly sick, and I could not bear to gaze longer
on these trivial pictures, on this vulgar show. Yes, I
felt dreary, worse than dreary, Even pity I felt nothing of.

(59:32):
For my brother men, all feelings in me were merged
in one which I scarcely dared to name. A feeling
of loathing, and stronger than all, and more than all
within me was the loathing for myself. Cease, whispered Alice. Cease,
or I cannot carry you. You have grown heavy. Home,

(59:54):
I answered her, in the very tone in which I
used to say the word to my coachman when I
came out at four o'clock at night from some Moscow friends,
where I had been talking since dinner time of the
future of Russia and the significance of the Commune. Home,
I repeated and closed my eyes twenty four, but I
soon opened them again. Alice seemed huddled strangely up to me.

(01:00:18):
She was almost pushing against me. I looked at her,
and my blood froze at the sight. One who has
chanced to behold on the face of another a sudden
look of intense terror, the cause of which he does
not suspect, will understand me. By terror, overmastering terror. The
pale features of Alice were drawn and contorted, almost effaced.

(01:00:39):
I had never seen anything like it, even on a
living human face. A lifeless, misty phantom, a shade, and
this deadly horror, Alice, what is it? I said at last?
She she? She answered with an effort. She she who
is she? Do not utter her name? Not her name?

(01:01:04):
Alice faltered hurriedly. We must escape her. There will be
an end to everything and for ever. Look over there.
I turned my head in the direction in which her
trembling hand was pointing, and discerned something, something horrible. Indeed,
this something was the more horrible that it had no
definite shape. Something bulky, dark, yellowish black, spotted like a

(01:01:26):
lizard's belly, not a storm cloud, and not smoke. Was
crawling with a snake like motion over the earth, a wide, rhythmic,
undulating movement from above downwards and from below upwards, an
undulation recalling the malignant sweep of the wings of a
vulture seeking its prey. At times, an indescribably revolting groveling

(01:01:47):
on the earth, as of a spider stooping over its
captured fly. Who are you? What are you? Menacing mass
under her influence? I saw it, I felt it. All
sanknd nothingness, all was dumb. A putrefying, pestilential chill came
from it. At this chill breath, the heart turned sick,

(01:02:11):
and the eyes grew dim, and the hair stood up
on the head. It was a power moving, that power
which there is no resisting, to which all is subject,
which sightless, shapeless, senseless sees all knows all, and like
a bird of prey, picks out its victims like a snake,
stifles them and stabs them with its frozen sting. Alice, Alice,

(01:02:35):
I shrieked, like one in frenzy. It is death, death itself.
The wailing sound I had heard before broke from Alice's lips.
This time it was more like a human wail of despair.
And we flew, but our flight was strangely and alarmingly unsteady.
Alice turned over in the air, fell, rushed from side
to side like a partridge mortally wounded, or trying to

(01:02:56):
attract a dog away from her young And meanwhile, in
suit of us, parting from the indescribable mass of horror,
rushed sort of long, undulating tentacles, like outstretched arms, like talons. Suddenly,
a huge shape, a muffled figure on a pale horse,
sprang up and flew upwards into the very heavens. Still

(01:03:17):
more fearfully, still more desperately, Alice struggled, She has seen
all is over. I am lost. I heard her broken whisper. Oh,
I am miserable. I might have profited, have won life,
and now nothingness, nothingness. It was too unbearable. I lost

(01:03:40):
consciousness twenty five When I came to myself. I was
lying on my back in the grass, feeling a dull
acholl over me as from a bad bruise. The dawn
was beginning in the sky. I could clearly distinguish things.
Not far off alongside a birch copse ran a road
plain with willows. The country seemed familiar to me. I

(01:04:03):
began to recollect what had happened to me and shuddered
all over. Directly, my mind recalled the last hideous apparition.
But what was Alice afraid of? I? Thought? Can she
too be subject to that power? Is she not immortal?
Can she too be in danger of annihilation? Dissolution? How

(01:04:24):
is it possible? A soft moan sounded close by me.
I turned my head. Two paces from me lay stretched out, motionless,
a young woman in a white gown with thick, disordered tresses,
with bare shoulders. One arm was thrown behind her head,
the other had fallen on her bosom. Her eyes were
closed and on her tightly shut lips stood a fleck

(01:04:46):
of crimson stain. Could it be Alice? But Alice was
a phantom, and I was looking upon a living woman.
I crept up to her, bent down. Alice, is it you,
I cried, suddenly, slowly quivering. The wide eyelids rose, dark
piercing eyes were fastened upon me, and at the same instant,

(01:05:10):
lips too, fastened upon me, warm, moist, smelling of blood.
Soft arms twined tightly round my neck. A burning, full
heart pressed convulsively to mine. Farewell, farewell forever. The dying
voice uttered distinctly, and everything vanished. I got up, staggering

(01:05:33):
like a drunken man, and passing my hands several times
over my face, looked carefully about me. I found myself
near the high road, a mile and a half from
my own place. The sun had just risen when I
got home. All the following nights I awaited, and I confess,
not without alarm, the appearance of my phantom. But it

(01:05:53):
did not visit me again. I even set off one
day in the dusk to the old Oak, but nothing
took place there out of the common I did, not, however,
over much regret the discontinuance of this strange acquaintance. I
reflected much and long over this inexplicable, almost unintelligible phenomenon,
and I am convinced that not only science cannot explain it,

(01:06:17):
but that even in fairy tales and legends, nothing like
it is to be met with. What was Alice? After all?
An apparition, a restless soul and evil spirit, a sylphide,
a vampire, or what. Sometimes it struck me again that
Alice was a woman I had known at some time
or other, and I made tremendous efforts to recall where

(01:06:38):
I had seen her. Yes, yes, I thought, sometimes directly
this minute I shall remember. In a flash, everything had
melted away again like a dream. Yes, I thought, a
great deal. And as is always the way, came to
no conclusion. The advice or opinion of others I could
not bring myself to invite. Fearing to be taken for

(01:07:00):
a madman, I gave up all reflection upon it at last,
To tell the truth, I had no time for it.
For one thing, the emancipation had come along with the
redistribution of property, et cetera. And for another, my own
health failed. I suffered with my chest with sleeplessness, and
a cough. I got thin all over. My face was

(01:07:21):
yellow as a dead man's. The doctor declares I have
too little blood to cause my illness by the Greek
name anemia, and has sent me to Gastyne. The arbitrator
swears that without me there's no coming to an understanding
with the peasants. Well, what's one to do? But what
is the meaning of the piercingly pure shrill notes the

(01:07:42):
notes of an harmonica, which I hear directly. Any one's
death is spoken of before me. They keep growing louder,
more penetrating. And why do I shudder in such anguish
at the mere thought of annihilation? End off Section three
Phantoms s