Dymer by C.S. Lewis - Canto 2

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:01):
Canto two of Dimer Dimer by C. S. Lewis, Canto two.
More light, another step, and still more light. Opening ahead,
it swilled with soft excess, his eyes yet quivering from
the dregs of night. And it was nowhere more and
nowhere less in it, no shadows were He could not

(00:24):
guess its fountain. Wandering round around, he turned still on
each side. The level glory burned far in the dome,
to where his gaze was lost. The deepening roof shone
clear as stones that lie in shore beneath pure seas,
the aisles that crossed like forests of white stone. Their

(00:45):
arms on high pasted pillar after pillar dragged his eye
in unobscured perspective till the sight was weary, and there
also was the light. Look with my eyes, conceive yourself
above and hanging in the dome, and thence through space,
looked down. See Dimer dwarfed and naked, move a white

(01:07):
blot on the floor at such a pace as boats
that hardly seemed to have changed place once in an hour,
when from the cliffs we spy the same ship, always
smoking towards the sky. The shouting mood had withered from
his heart. The oppression of huge places wrapped him round.

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A great misgiving sent its fluttering dart deep into him.
Some fear of being found, some hope to find, he
knew not what. The sound of music, never ceasing, took
the roll of silence, and like silence numbed his soul
till as he turned a corner, his deep awe broke

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with a sudden start, for straight ahead, far off a
wild eyed, naked man he saw that came to meet him,
and beyond was spread yet furthered depth of light. With
quickening tread, he leaped towards the shape, then stopped and
smiled before a mirror, wondering like a child. Beside the glass,

(02:11):
unguarded for the claiming. Like a great patch of flowers
upon the wall, hung every kind of clothes, silk feathers,
flaming leopard skin, furry mantles, like the fall of deep
midwinter snows. Upon them, all hung the faint smell of cedar,
and the dyes were bright as blood and clear as

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morning skies. He turned from the white specter in the
glass and looked at these. Remember he had worn through
winter slush, through summer flowers and grass. One kind of
solemn stuff, since he was born with badge of year
and rank. He laughed in scorn and cried, here is

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no law, nor eye to see, nor leave of entry given.
Why should there be have done with that? You threw
it all behind. Henceforth I ask no license where I need.
It's on on, on, though I go mad and blind,
though knees ache and lung's labor and feet bleed, or else,

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it's home again, to sleep and feed, and work, and
hate them always, and obey and loathe the punctual rise
of each new day. He made mad work among them
as he dressed, with motley choice and litter on the floor,
and each thing, as he found it seemed the best.
He wondered that he had not known before how fair

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a man he was. I'll creep no more in secret,
Dimer said, but I'll go back and drive them all
to freedom. On this track. He turned towards the glass.
The space looked smaller behind him. Now himself, in royal
guise filled the whole frame, a nobler shape and taller,

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till suddenly he started with surprise, catching by chance his
own familiar eyes fevered, yet still the same, without their
share of bravery, undeceived and watching there. Yet as he
turned he cried, the rest remain. If they rebelled, if
they should find me here, we'd pluck the whole taut

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fabric from the strain. Hew down the city, Let live
earth appear, old men and barren women, whom, through fear
we have suffered to be masters in our home. Hide, hide,
for we are angry, and we come thus, feeding on
vain fancy, covering round his hunger, his great loneliness, arraying

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in facile dreams until the qualm was drowned. The boy
went on through endless arches, straying with casual tread. He
sauntered manly, playing at manhood, lest more loss of faith
betide him, till lo he saw a table set beside him.
When Diamer saw this sight, he leaped for mirth. He

(05:00):
clapped his hands, his eye lit like a lover's. He
had a hunger in him that was worth ten cities.
Here was silver glass and covers, cold peacock prawns and
aspec eggs of plovers, raised pies that stood like castles,
gleaming fishes, and bright fruit with broad leaves around the dishes.

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If ever you have passed a cathay door, and lingered
in the dusk of a June day, fresh from the road,
sweat sodden and foot sore, and heard the plates clink
and the music play with laughter, with white tables far
away with many lights. Conceive how Dimer ran to table,
looked once round him, and began That table seemed unending.

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Here and there were broken meats, bread, crumbled flowers defaced,
a napkin with white petals on a chair, a glass
already tasted, still to taste. It seemed that a great
host had fed in haste and gone, yet left a
thousand places more untouched, wherein no guest had sat before.

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There in the lonely splendor, dimer Ate as thieves eat,
ever watching half in fear. He blamed his evil fortune.
I come late? Whose board was this? What company sat here?
What women with wise mouths? What comrades deer? Who would
have made me welcome as the one free born of
all my race? And cried, well done? Remember yet again

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he had grown up on rations and on scientific food,
at common boards, with water in his cup, one mess
alike for every day and mood. But here at his
right hand a flagon stood. He raised it, paused before
he drank and laughed, I'll drown their perfect city in
this draft. He fingered the cold neck. He saw within

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like a strange sky, some liquor that foamed blue and murmured.
Standing now with pointed chin and head thrown back, he
tasted rapture flew through every Vein that moment, Louder grew
the music and swelled forth a trumpet note. He ceased
and put one hand up to his throat. Then heedlessly,

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he let the flagon sink in his right hand. His
staring eyes were caught in distance, as of one who
tries to think a thought that is still waiting to
be thought. There was a riot in his heart that
brought the loud blood to the temples. A great voice
sprang to his lips, unsummoned with no choice. Ah, but

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the eyes are open. The dream is broken to sack
the perfect city, a fool's deed for dimer folly of follies.
I have spoken, I am the wanderer, new born, newly freed.
A thousand times. They have warned me of men's greed
for joy, for the good that all desire. But never
till now I knew the wild heat of the endeavor.

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Some day I will come back to break the city.
Not now, perhaps when age is white and bleak. Not now.
I am in haste, Oh God, the pity of all
my life till this, groping and weak, the shadow of itself.
But now to seek that true, most ancient glory, whose
white glance was lost through the whole world by evil chance.

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I was a dull, cowed thing from the beginning. Dimer,
the drudge, the black leg who obeyed desire shall teach
me now if this be sinning, good luck to it,
Oh splendor, long delayed, beautiful world of mine, O world
arrayed for bridal flower and forest, wave and field. I
come to be your lover, loveliest yield world. I will

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prove you. Lest it should be said, there was a
man who loved the earth. His heart was nothing but
that love. With doting tread, he worshiped the loved grass,
and every start of every bird from cover, the least
part of every flower he held in awe. Yet Earth
gave him no joy between his death and birth. I

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know my good is hidden at your breast. There is
a sound of great good in my ear like wings,
And oh, this moment is the best. I shall not
fail I taste it. It comes near as men from
a dark dungeon see the clear stars shining, and the
filled streams. Far away. I hear your promise booming, and obey.

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This forest lies a thousand miles, perhaps beyond where I
am come, and farther still the river's wanders seaward with
smooth laps, and there is cliff and cottage, tower and
hill somewhere before the world's end. I shall fill my
spirit at Earth's pap for Earth must hold one rich
thing sealed as dimers from of old, one rich thing,

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or it may be more than this. Might I not
reach the borders of a land that ought to have
been mine, And there the bliss of free speech. There
the eyes that understand, the men free grown, not modeled
by the hand of masters, men that know, or men
that seek, They will not gape and murmur when I speak. Then,

(10:24):
as he ceased amid the farther wall, he saw a
curtained and low lintled door, dark curtains, sweepy fold, night,
purple pall. He thought he had not noticed it before.
Sudden desire for darkness overbore his will and drew him
towards it. All was blind within he passed, the curtains

(10:45):
closed behind. He entered in a void night. Scented flowers
breathed there. But this was darker than the night that
is most black, with beating thunder showers, a disembodied world
where depth and height and dist were unmade. No seam
of light showed through. It was a world not made

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for seeing. One pure, one, undivided sense of being through darkness,
smooth as amber. Warily slowly he moved. The floor was
soft beneath his feet. A cool smell that was wholly
and unholy, sharp like the very spring, and roughly sweet
blew towards him, and he felt his fingers meat, broad leaves,

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and wiry stems that, at his will unclosed before and
closed behind him. Still with body intent, he felt the
foliage quiver on breast and thighs. With groping arms, he
made wide passes in the air, a sacred shiver of
joy from the heart center oddly strayed to every nerve,

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deep sighing, much afraid, much wondering, he went on. Then, stooping,
found a knee depth of warm pillows on the ground,
and there it was sweet rapture to lie still, eyes
open on the dark, a flowing health bathed him from
head to foot, and great good will rose springing in

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his heart and poured its wealth outwards. Then came a hand,
as if by stealth, out of the dark, and touched
his hand, and after the beating silence, budded into laughter,
a low, grave laugh, and rounded like a pearl mysterious,
filled with home. He opened wide his arms. The breathing

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body of a girl slid into them from the world's end,
with the stride of seven league boots, came passion to
his side. Then, meeting mouths, soft falling hair, a cry, heart,
shaken flank, sudden cool folded thigh. The same night swelled
the mushroom in Earth's lap and silvered the wet fields.

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It drew the bud from hiding, and led on the
rhythmic sap, and sent the young young wolves thirsting after
blood and wheeling. The big seas made ebb and flood
along the shores of Earth, and held these two in
dead sleep till the time of morning dew end of
Canto two