Episode Transcript
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(00:00):
Chapter nine of The Time Machine byH. G. Wells. We emerged
from the palace while the sun wasstill in part above the horizon. I
was determined to reach the White Sphinxearly the next morning, and ere the
dusk, I proposed pushing through thewoods that had stopped me on the previous
journey. My plan was to goas far as possible that night, and
(00:25):
then building a fire to sleep inthe protection of its glare. Accordingly,
as we went along, I gatheredany sticks or dried grass I saw,
and presently had my arms full ofsuch litter thus loaded. Our progress was
slower than I had anticipated. Andbesides, Weena was tired, and I
(00:46):
began to suffer from sleepiness too,so that it was full night before we
reached the wood upon the shrubby hillof its edge. Weena would have stopped
fearing the darkness before us, buta singular sense of impending calamity that should
indeed have served me as a warning, drove me onward. I had been
(01:07):
without sleep for a night and twodays, and I was feverish and irritable.
I felt sleep coming upon me andthe morlocks with it. While we
hesitated among the black bushes, behindus, and dim against their blackness,
I saw three crouching figures. Therewas scrub and long grass all about us,
(01:29):
and I did not feel safe fromtheir insidious approach. The forest,
I calculated, was rather less thana mile across if we could get through
it to the bare hillside, there, as it seemed to me, was
an altogether safer resting place. Ithought that with my matches and my camphor,
I could contrive to keep my pathilluminated through the woods. Yet it
(01:53):
was evident that if I was toflourish matches with my hands, I should
have to abandon my wood. Sorather reluctantly I put it down, and
then it came into my head thatI would amaze our friends behind by lighting
it. I was to discover theatrocious folly of this proceeding, but it
(02:14):
came to my mind as an ingeniousmove for covering our retreat. I don't
know if you have ever thought whata rare thing flame must be in the
absence of man, and in atemperate climate, the sun's heat is rarely
strong enough to burn, even whenit is focused by dewdrops, as is
sometimes the case in more tropical districts. Lightning may blast and blacken, but
(02:38):
it rarely gives rise to widespread fire. Decaying vegetation may occasionally smolder with the
heat of its fermentation, but thisrarely results in flame. In this decadence,
too, the art of fire makinghad been forgotten on the earth.
The red tongues that went licking upmy heap of wood were an altogether new
(03:00):
and strange thing to Weena. Shewanted to run to it and play with
it. I believe she would havecast herself into it had I not restrained
her. But I caught her up, and, in spite of her struggles,
plunged boldly before me into the woodfor a little way. The glare
of my fire lit the path.Looking back presently, I could see through
(03:23):
the crowded stems that from my heapof sticks, the blaze had spread to
some bushes adjacent, and a curvedline of fire was creeping up the grass
of the hill. I laughed atthat, and turned again to the dark
trees before me. It was veryblack, and Weena clung to me convulsively,
but there was still, as myeyes grew accustomed to the darkness,
(03:46):
sufficient light for me to avoid thestems overhead. It was simply black,
except where a gap of remote bluesky shone down upon us. Here and
there I struck none of my matches. Because I had no hand, and
free upon my left arm, Icarried my little one. In my right
hand, I had my iron barfor some way. I heard nothing but
(04:09):
the crackling twigs under my feet,the faint rustle of the breeze above,
and my own breathing, and thethrob of the blood vessels in my ears.
Then I seemed to know of apattering about me. I pushed on
grimly. The pattering grew more distinct, and then I caught the same queer
sound and voices I had heard inthe underworld. There were evidently several of
(04:32):
the Morlocks, and they were closingin upon me. Indeed, in another
minute, I felt a tug atmy coat, then something at my arm,
and Weena shivered violently and became quitestill. It was time for a
match, but to get one,I must put her down. I did
(04:53):
so, and as I fumbled withmy pocket, a struggle began in the
darkness about my knees, perfectly islenton her part, and with the same
peculiar cooing sounds from the morlocks.Soft little hands too, were creeping over
my coat and back, touching evenmy neck. Then the match scratched and
(05:14):
fizzed. I held it flaring,and saw the white backs of the Morlocks
in flight amid the trees. Ihastily took a lump of camphor from my
pocket and prepared to light it assoon as the match should wane. Then
I looked at Weena. She waslying clutching my feet and quite motionless,
with her face to the ground.With a sudden fright, I stooped to
(05:36):
her. She seemed scarcely to breathe. I lit the block of camphor and
flung it to the ground, andas it split and flared up and drove
back the Morlocks and the shadows,I knelt down and lifted her. The
wood behind seemed full of the stirand murmur of a great company. She
(05:57):
seemed to have fainted. I carefullyupon my shoulder and rose to push on.
And then there came a horrible realization. In maneuvering with my matches and
Weena, I had turned myself aboutseveral times, and now I had not
the faintest idea in what direction laymy path. For all I knew I
(06:18):
might be facing back towards the palaceof green porcelain. I found myself in
a cold sweat. I had tothink rapidly what to do. I determined
to build a fire, and incamp where we were, I put Weena,
still motionless, down upon a turfybowl, and very hastily, as
(06:39):
my first lump of camphor waned,I began collecting sticks and leaves here and
there. Out of the darkness roundme. The morlock's eyes shone like carbuncles.
The camphor flickered and went out.I lit a match, and as
I did so, two white formsthat had been approaching Weena dashed hastily away.
(07:00):
One was so blinded by the lightthat he came straight for me,
and I felt his bones grind underthe blow of my fist. He gave
a whoop of dismay, staggered alittle way, and fell down. I
lit another piece of camphor and wenton gathering my bonfire. Presently I noticed
how dry was some of the foliageabove me, For since my arrival on
(07:23):
the time machine a matter of aweek, no rain had fallen. So
instead of casting about among the treesfor fallen twigs, I began leaping up
and dragging down branches. Very soonI had a choking, smoky fire of
green wood and dry sticks, andcould economize my camphor. Then I turned
(07:44):
to where Lena lay beside my ironmace. I tried what I could to
revive her, but she lay likeone dead. I could not even satisfy
myself whether or not she breathed.Now the smoke of the fire beat over
towards me, and it must mademe heavy of a sudden Moreover, the
vapor of camphor was in the air. My fire would not need replenishing for
(08:07):
an hour or so. I feltvery weary after my exertion, and sat
down. The wood, too,was full of a slumbrous murmur that I
did not understand. I seemed justto nod and open my eyes, But
all was dark, and the morlockshad their hands upon me, flinging off
their clinging fingers. I hastily feltin my pocket for the matchbox, and
(08:33):
it had gone. Then they grippedand closed with me again. In a
moment I knew what had happened.I had slept, and my fire had
gone out, and the bitterness ofdeath came over my soul. The forest
seemed full of the smell of burningwood. I was caught by the neck,
by the hair, by the arms, and pulled down. It was
(08:56):
indescribably horrible in the darkness to feelall those soft creatures heaped upon me.
I felt as if I was ina monstrous spider's web. I was overpowered
and went down. I felt littleteeth nipping at my neck. I rolled
over, and as I did so, my hand came against my iron lever.
It gave me strength. I struggledup, shaking the human rats from
(09:20):
me and holding the bar short.I thrust where I judged their faces might
be. I could feel the succulentgiving of flesh and bone under my blows,
and for a moment I was free. The strange exultation that so often
seems to accompany hard fighting came uponme. I knew that both I and
Weena were lost, but I determinedto make the morlots pay for their meat.
(09:45):
I stood with my back to atree, swinging the iron bar before
me. The whole wood was fullof the stir and cries of them.
A minute passed, their voices seemedto rise to a higher pitch of excitement,
and their movements grew fast, yetnone came within reach. I stood
glaring at the blackness. Then suddenlycame hope, what if the morlocks were
(10:09):
afraid? And close on the heelsof that came a strange thing. The
darkness seemed to grow luminous, verydimly. I began to see the morlocks
about me. Three battered at myfeet, and then I recognized with incredulous
surprise that the others were running inan incessant stream, as it seemed,
(10:31):
from behind me and away through thewood in front, and their backs seemed
no longer white but reddish. AsI stood agape, I saw a little
red spark go drifting across a gapof starlight between the branches and vanish.
And at that I understood the smellof burning wood, the slumbrous murmur that
(10:52):
was growing now into a gusty roar, the red glow, and the morlock's
flight. Stepping out from my treeand looking back, I saw through the
black pillars of the nearer trees theflames of the burning forest. It was
my first fire coming after me.With that, I looked for Weena,
but she was gone. The hissingand crackling behind me the explosive thud as
(11:18):
each fresh tree burst into flame,left little time for reflection. My iron
bar still gripped, I followed inthe morlock's path. It was a close
race. Once the flames crept forwardso swiftly on my right as I ran
that I was out flanked and hadto strike off to the left. But
at last I emerged upon a smallopen space, and as I did so,
(11:41):
a morlock came blundering towards me,and passed me, and went on
straight into the fire. And nowI was able to see the most weird
and horrible thing I think of allthat I beheld in that future age.
This whole space was as bright asday with the reflection of the fire.
In the center was a hillock ortumulus, surmounted by a scorched hawthorn.
(12:07):
Beyond this was another arm of theburning forest, with yellow tongues already writhing
from it, completely encircling the spacewith a fence of fire. Upon the
hillside were some thirty or forty morlocks, dazzled by the light and heat,
and blundering hither and thither against eachother in their bewilderment. At first I
(12:28):
did not realize their blindness, andstruck furiously at them with my bar,
in a frenzy of fear, asthey approached me, killing one and crippling
several more. But when I hadwatched the gestures of one of them groping
under the hawthorn against the red sky, and heard their moans, I was
assured of their absolute helplessness and miseryin the glare, and I struck no
(12:54):
more of them. Yet every nowand then one would come straight towards me,
setting loose a quivering horror that madeME quick to elude him. At
one time, the flames died downsomewhat, and I feared the foul creatures
would presently be able to see me. I was thinking of beginning the fight
by killing some of them before thisshould happen. But the fire burst out
(13:16):
again brightly, and I stayed myhand. I walked about the hill among
them and avoided them, looking forsome trace of Weena. But Weena was
gone. At last. I satdown on the summit of the hillock and
watched this strange, incredible company ofblind things, groping to and fro and
(13:37):
making uncanny noises to each other asthe glare of the fire beat on them.
The coiling uprush of smoke streamed acrossthe sky and through the rare tatters
of that red canopy, remote asthough they belonged to another universe, shone
the little stars. Two or threemorlocks came blundering into me, and I
drove them off with blows of myfists, Trembling as I did so.
(14:03):
For the most part of that night, I was persuaded it was a nightmare.
I bit myself and screamed in apassionate desire to awake. I beat
the ground with my hands, andgot up, and sat down again,
and wandered here and there, andagain sat down. Then I would fall
to rubbing my eyes and calling uponGod to let me awake. Thrice I
(14:24):
saw morlocks put their heads down ina kind of agony, and rush into
the flames. But at last,above the subsiding red of the fire,
above the streaming masses of black smoke, and the whitening and blackening tree stumps,
and the diminishing numbers of these dimcreatures, came the white light of
the day. I searched again fortraces of Weena, but there were none.
(14:50):
It was plain that they had lefther poor little body in the forest.
I cannot describe how it relieved meto think that it had escaped the
awful fate to which it seemed destined. As I thought of that, I
was almost moved to begin a massacreof the helpless abominations about me, But
(15:11):
I contained myself. The hillock,as I have said, was a kind
of island in the forest. Fromits summit I could now make out,
through a haze of smoke, thepalace of green porcelain, and from that
I could get my bearings for thewhite Sphinx, and so leaving the remnant
of these damned souls still going hitherand thither and moaning. As the day
(15:35):
grew clearer, I tied some grassabout my feet and limped on across smoking
ashes and among black stems that stillpulsated internally with fire, towards the hiding
place of the time machine. Iwalked slowly, for I was almost exhausted
as well as lame, and Ifelt the intensest wretchedness for the horrible death
(15:58):
of little Weena. It seemed anoverwhelming calamity. Now in this old familiar
room, it is more like thesorrow of a dream than an actual loss,
But that morning it left me absolutelylonely again, terribly alone. I
began to think of this house ofmine, of this fireside, of some
of you, and with such thoughtscame a longing that was pain. But
(16:25):
as I walked over the smoking ashesunder the bright morning sky, I made
a discovery. In my trouser pocketwere still some loose matches. The box
must have leaked before it was lost. End of Chapter nine
Chapter nine of The Time Machine byH. G. Wells. We emerged
from the palace while the sun wasstill in part above the horizon. I
was determined to reach the White Sphinxearly the next morning, and ere the
dusk, I proposed pushing through thewoods that had stopped me on the previous
journey. My plan was to goas far as possible that night, and
(00:25):
then building a fire to sleep inthe protection of its glare. Accordingly,
as we went along, I gatheredany sticks or dried grass I saw,
and presently had my arms full ofsuch litter thus loaded. Our progress was
slower than I had anticipated. Andbesides, Weena was tired, and I
(00:46):
began to suffer from sleepiness too,so that it was full night before we
reached the wood upon the shrubby hillof its edge. Weena would have stopped
fearing the darkness before us, buta singular sense of impending calamity that should
indeed have served me as a warning, drove me onward. I had been
(01:07):
without sleep for a night and twodays, and I was feverish and irritable.
I felt sleep coming upon me andthe morlocks with it. While we
hesitated among the black bushes, behindus, and dim against their blackness,
I saw three crouching figures. Therewas scrub and long grass all about us,
(01:29):
and I did not feel safe fromtheir insidious approach. The forest,
I calculated, was rather less thana mile across if we could get through
it to the bare hillside, there, as it seemed to me, was
an altogether safer resting place. Ithought that with my matches and my camphor,
I could contrive to keep my pathilluminated through the woods. Yet it
(01:53):
was evident that if I was toflourish matches with my hands, I should
have to abandon my wood. Sorather reluctantly I put it down, and
then it came into my head thatI would amaze our friends behind by lighting
it. I was to discover theatrocious folly of this proceeding, but it
(02:14):
came to my mind as an ingeniousmove for covering our retreat. I don't
know if you have ever thought whata rare thing flame must be in the
absence of man, and in atemperate climate, the sun's heat is rarely
strong enough to burn, even whenit is focused by dewdrops, as is
sometimes the case in more tropical districts. Lightning may blast and blacken, but
(02:38):
it rarely gives rise to widespread fire. Decaying vegetation may occasionally smolder with the
heat of its fermentation, but thisrarely results in flame. In this decadence,
too, the art of fire makinghad been forgotten on the earth.
The red tongues that went licking upmy heap of wood were an altogether new
(03:00):
and strange thing to Weena. Shewanted to run to it and play with
it. I believe she would havecast herself into it had I not restrained
her. But I caught her up, and, in spite of her struggles,
plunged boldly before me into the woodfor a little way. The glare
of my fire lit the path.Looking back presently, I could see through
(03:23):
the crowded stems that from my heapof sticks, the blaze had spread to
some bushes adjacent, and a curvedline of fire was creeping up the grass
of the hill. I laughed atthat, and turned again to the dark
trees before me. It was veryblack, and Weena clung to me convulsively,
but there was still, as myeyes grew accustomed to the darkness,
(03:46):
sufficient light for me to avoid thestems overhead. It was simply black,
except where a gap of remote bluesky shone down upon us. Here and
there I struck none of my matches. Because I had no hand, and
free upon my left arm, Icarried my little one. In my right
hand, I had my iron barfor some way. I heard nothing but
(04:09):
the crackling twigs under my feet,the faint rustle of the breeze above,
and my own breathing, and thethrob of the blood vessels in my ears.
Then I seemed to know of apattering about me. I pushed on
grimly. The pattering grew more distinct, and then I caught the same queer
sound and voices I had heard inthe underworld. There were evidently several of
(04:32):
the Morlocks, and they were closingin upon me. Indeed, in another
minute, I felt a tug atmy coat, then something at my arm,
and Weena shivered violently and became quitestill. It was time for a
match, but to get one,I must put her down. I did
(04:53):
so, and as I fumbled withmy pocket, a struggle began in the
darkness about my knees, perfectly islenton her part, and with the same
peculiar cooing sounds from the morlocks.Soft little hands too, were creeping over
my coat and back, touching evenmy neck. Then the match scratched and
(05:14):
fizzed. I held it flaring,and saw the white backs of the Morlocks
in flight amid the trees. Ihastily took a lump of camphor from my
pocket and prepared to light it assoon as the match should wane. Then
I looked at Weena. She waslying clutching my feet and quite motionless,
with her face to the ground.With a sudden fright, I stooped to
(05:36):
her. She seemed scarcely to breathe. I lit the block of camphor and
flung it to the ground, andas it split and flared up and drove
back the Morlocks and the shadows,I knelt down and lifted her. The
wood behind seemed full of the stirand murmur of a great company. She
(05:57):
seemed to have fainted. I carefullyupon my shoulder and rose to push on.
And then there came a horrible realization. In maneuvering with my matches and
Weena, I had turned myself aboutseveral times, and now I had not
the faintest idea in what direction laymy path. For all I knew I
(06:18):
might be facing back towards the palaceof green porcelain. I found myself in
a cold sweat. I had tothink rapidly what to do. I determined
to build a fire, and incamp where we were, I put Weena,
still motionless, down upon a turfybowl, and very hastily, as
(06:39):
my first lump of camphor waned,I began collecting sticks and leaves here and
there. Out of the darkness roundme. The morlock's eyes shone like carbuncles.
The camphor flickered and went out.I lit a match, and as
I did so, two white formsthat had been approaching Weena dashed hastily away.
(07:00):
One was so blinded by the lightthat he came straight for me,
and I felt his bones grind underthe blow of my fist. He gave
a whoop of dismay, staggered alittle way, and fell down. I
lit another piece of camphor and wenton gathering my bonfire. Presently I noticed
how dry was some of the foliageabove me, For since my arrival on
(07:23):
the time machine a matter of aweek, no rain had fallen. So
instead of casting about among the treesfor fallen twigs, I began leaping up
and dragging down branches. Very soonI had a choking, smoky fire of
green wood and dry sticks, andcould economize my camphor. Then I turned
(07:44):
to where Lena lay beside my ironmace. I tried what I could to
revive her, but she lay likeone dead. I could not even satisfy
myself whether or not she breathed.Now the smoke of the fire beat over
towards me, and it must mademe heavy of a sudden Moreover, the
vapor of camphor was in the air. My fire would not need replenishing for
(08:07):
an hour or so. I feltvery weary after my exertion, and sat
down. The wood, too,was full of a slumbrous murmur that I
did not understand. I seemed justto nod and open my eyes, But
all was dark, and the morlockshad their hands upon me, flinging off
their clinging fingers. I hastily feltin my pocket for the matchbox, and
(08:33):
it had gone. Then they grippedand closed with me again. In a
moment I knew what had happened.I had slept, and my fire had
gone out, and the bitterness ofdeath came over my soul. The forest
seemed full of the smell of burningwood. I was caught by the neck,
by the hair, by the arms, and pulled down. It was
(08:56):
indescribably horrible in the darkness to feelall those soft creatures heaped upon me.
I felt as if I was ina monstrous spider's web. I was overpowered
and went down. I felt littleteeth nipping at my neck. I rolled
over, and as I did so, my hand came against my iron lever.
It gave me strength. I struggledup, shaking the human rats from
(09:20):
me and holding the bar short.I thrust where I judged their faces might
be. I could feel the succulentgiving of flesh and bone under my blows,
and for a moment I was free. The strange exultation that so often
seems to accompany hard fighting came uponme. I knew that both I and
Weena were lost, but I determinedto make the morlots pay for their meat.
(09:45):
I stood with my back to atree, swinging the iron bar before
me. The whole wood was fullof the stir and cries of them.
A minute passed, their voices seemedto rise to a higher pitch of excitement,
and their movements grew fast, yetnone came within reach. I stood
glaring at the blackness. Then suddenlycame hope, what if the morlocks were
(10:09):
afraid? And close on the heelsof that came a strange thing. The
darkness seemed to grow luminous, verydimly. I began to see the morlocks
about me. Three battered at myfeet, and then I recognized with incredulous
surprise that the others were running inan incessant stream, as it seemed,
(10:31):
from behind me and away through thewood in front, and their backs seemed
no longer white but reddish. AsI stood agape, I saw a little
red spark go drifting across a gapof starlight between the branches and vanish.
And at that I understood the smellof burning wood, the slumbrous murmur that
(10:52):
was growing now into a gusty roar, the red glow, and the morlock's
flight. Stepping out from my treeand looking back, I saw through the
black pillars of the nearer trees theflames of the burning forest. It was
my first fire coming after me.With that, I looked for Weena,
but she was gone. The hissingand crackling behind me the explosive thud as
(11:18):
each fresh tree burst into flame,left little time for reflection. My iron
bar still gripped, I followed inthe morlock's path. It was a close
race. Once the flames crept forwardso swiftly on my right as I ran
that I was out flanked and hadto strike off to the left. But
at last I emerged upon a smallopen space, and as I did so,
(11:41):
a morlock came blundering towards me,and passed me, and went on
straight into the fire. And nowI was able to see the most weird
and horrible thing I think of allthat I beheld in that future age.
This whole space was as bright asday with the reflection of the fire.
In the center was a hillock ortumulus, surmounted by a scorched hawthorn.
(12:07):
Beyond this was another arm of theburning forest, with yellow tongues already writhing
from it, completely encircling the spacewith a fence of fire. Upon the
hillside were some thirty or forty morlocks, dazzled by the light and heat,
and blundering hither and thither against eachother in their bewilderment. At first I
(12:28):
did not realize their blindness, andstruck furiously at them with my bar,
in a frenzy of fear, asthey approached me, killing one and crippling
several more. But when I hadwatched the gestures of one of them groping
under the hawthorn against the red sky, and heard their moans, I was
assured of their absolute helplessness and miseryin the glare, and I struck no
(12:54):
more of them. Yet every nowand then one would come straight towards me,
setting loose a quivering horror that madeME quick to elude him. At
one time, the flames died downsomewhat, and I feared the foul creatures
would presently be able to see me. I was thinking of beginning the fight
by killing some of them before thisshould happen. But the fire burst out
(13:16):
again brightly, and I stayed myhand. I walked about the hill among
them and avoided them, looking forsome trace of Weena. But Weena was
gone. At last. I satdown on the summit of the hillock and
watched this strange, incredible company ofblind things, groping to and fro and
(13:37):
making uncanny noises to each other asthe glare of the fire beat on them.
The coiling uprush of smoke streamed acrossthe sky and through the rare tatters
of that red canopy, remote asthough they belonged to another universe, shone
the little stars. Two or threemorlocks came blundering into me, and I
drove them off with blows of myfists, Trembling as I did so.
(14:03):
For the most part of that night, I was persuaded it was a nightmare.
I bit myself and screamed in apassionate desire to awake. I beat
the ground with my hands, andgot up, and sat down again,
and wandered here and there, andagain sat down. Then I would fall
to rubbing my eyes and calling uponGod to let me awake. Thrice I
(14:24):
saw morlocks put their heads down ina kind of agony, and rush into
the flames. But at last,above the subsiding red of the fire,
above the streaming masses of black smoke, and the whitening and blackening tree stumps,
and the diminishing numbers of these dimcreatures, came the white light of
the day. I searched again fortraces of Weena, but there were none.
(14:50):
It was plain that they had lefther poor little body in the forest.
I cannot describe how it relieved meto think that it had escaped the
awful fate to which it seemed destined. As I thought of that, I
was almost moved to begin a massacreof the helpless abominations about me, But
(15:11):
I contained myself. The hillock,as I have said, was a kind
of island in the forest. Fromits summit I could now make out,
through a haze of smoke, thepalace of green porcelain, and from that
I could get my bearings for thewhite Sphinx, and so leaving the remnant
of these damned souls still going hitherand thither and moaning. As the day
(15:35):
grew clearer, I tied some grassabout my feet and limped on across smoking
ashes and among black stems that stillpulsated internally with fire, towards the hiding
place of the time machine. Iwalked slowly, for I was almost exhausted
as well as lame, and Ifelt the intensest wretchedness for the horrible death
(15:58):
of little Weena. It seemed anoverwhelming calamity. Now in this old familiar
room, it is more like thesorrow of a dream than an actual loss,
But that morning it left me absolutelylonely again, terribly alone. I
began to think of this house ofmine, of this fireside, of some
of you, and with such thoughtscame a longing that was pain. But
(16:25):
as I walked over the smoking ashesunder the bright morning sky, I made
a discovery. In my trouser pocketwere still some loose matches. The box
must have leaked before it was lost. End of Chapter nine
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Gregg Rosenthal and a rotating crew of elite NFL Media co-hosts, including Patrick Claybon, Colleen Wolfe, Steve Wyche, Nick Shook and Jourdan Rodrigue of The Athletic get you caught up daily on all the NFL news and analysis you need to be smarter and funnier than your friends.