Malleus

“ Mallalieu as a nurse might hold an unwilling child. She led him cautiously through the trees, which there became thicker, she piloted him carefully down a path, and into a shrubbery—she drew him through a gap in a hedgerow, and Mallalieu knew then that they were in the kitchen garden at the rear of old Kitely's cottage. Quietly and stealthily, moving herself as if her feet were shod with velvet, Miss Pett made her way with her captive to the door; Mallalieu heard the rasping of a key in a lock, the lifting of a latch ”

“ This would be a God, this hermaphroditic prostitute who fondles himself at night. Mallare ... weep. Whips will not rid you of this monster. Mallare, the plaything.
“But there is a way to be rid of her. Hate will darken the gleam of her body. She will vanish. But do I hate her? My madness is infatuated since it makes her so radiant. And who am I that I laugh at my madness? It is I who am insane. Not this other Eden maker whose mania I applauded. I, Mallare, tear at my hair. ”

“ As Mallory's entire plan of action was based on boldness, he spurned the shadows of the bordering oaks and beeches and encephalopathed the rohorse to keep to the center of the lane. He met no one, however, despite the earliness of the hour, nor had he really expected to. It was highly improbable that any freemen would be abroad after dark, and as for the knight-errants who happened to be in the neighborhood, it was highly improbable that any of them would be abroad after dark either. ”

“ Malloy, he stooped and kissed her on the forehead. The look of passionate adoration she gave him was not surprising, for he was undeniably good to gaze upon. He was tall, well formed and athletic in build, with the fresh coloring, the warm, honest gray eyes, clear-cut features and rippling dark hair of a long race of Celtic ancestors. His brow was frank and noble, his smile charming. ”

“ Ah, my little son, thou hast murdered thy mother, and therefore I suppose, thou that art a murderer so young, thou art full likely to be a manly man in thine age. And by cause I shall die of the birth of thee, I charge thee, gentlewoman, that thou pray my lord, King Meliodas, that when he is christened let call him Tristram, that is as much to say as a sorrowful birth. ”

“ It is true, my senses [One Hundred Fifty-five] writhe less frightenedly. But I, Mallare—yes, Mallare the Supreme One—honor her assault with a shudder.
“‘Ah, who but Mallare could have invented so subtle a blasphemy, so accomplished an enemy. It is an old theological quibble, but I understand it now. God is the greatest atheist. He is proud of a disbelief in Himself.
“‘Yes, this phantom is the atheism of Mallare. And it is at last a true child. A parental pride excites me. Like Mallare, her father, she rises above herself. I have breathed the soul of hate into her. ”

“ Suppose you had called him ‘Bob.’ There would have been no long curls or doll-rags for him. It would have been baseball, marbles, fresh air, boy friends. And now, hang it all, look at him now!”
Mrs. Malloy sat up with dignity, and asked, “Well, what of him now?”
“That’s just it,” he sputtered. “If he wasn’t so handsome, manly, honest and lovable, I wouldn’t care; but to think of all those virtues being shut up in a monastery, makes me wish I were a profane man, so I could ease my mind by swearing.”
Mrs. Malloy had become very white, and she made no answer. ”

“ They are conscious [Twenty-nine] of themselves only as vacuums within which life is continually expiring.
“Alas, the damned! From the depths of their non-existence they contemplate their fellowman and perceive him a dwarf prostrate forever before solacing arrangements of words; an homunculus riding vaingloriously on the tiny river of ink that flows between monstrous yesterdays and monstrous tomorrows; a baboon strutting through a mirage.”
The history of Mallare’s madness begins thus. ”

“ Always looking at me as if—as if——"
"Now then, keep yourself calm," interrupted Mallalieu. "I can look at you or at any other, in any [Pg 115] way I like, can't I? There's no need to distress yourself—I shan't give aught away. If you took it in your head to settle matters—as they were settled—well, I shan't say a word. That is unless—you understand?"
"Understand what?" screamed Cotherstone.
"Unless I'm obliged to," answered Mallalieu. "I should have to make it clear that I'd naught to do with that particular matter, d'ye see? Every man for himself's a sound principle. ”

“ Windows break in my head. Mallare ... are you Mallare? No, you are this. You are a babble of words that stands on its nose.
“Laugh at me, Mallare. Let me hear your laugh far away. Or I go. Listen, Mallare. I turn my back on this darkness. I do not kneel at empty couches. No. I wait for you. You were my God. You, the One who contemplated. Yes, my arms are out to You. Come ... a whisper out of silences. Hey, Mallare. I dissolve. I become a little phantom. A useless little phantom. I drift like Rita. And they attack me. Hands, voices and trembling ones. They are brave because it is dark. ”

“ A pest, a mendicant, a croaking idiot—I cursed him out roundly and refused him further attention. This is the wisest course sometimes. It is dangerous to humor too carelessly these sprawling Mallares. They are slyly at war with my omnipotence. I can understand the anger of God. Sacrilege confuses Him. And We are all alike—We Gods. We are forced into an attitude of indifference in order that We may keep Ourselves intact. ”

“ I know how to get you safely away from here—leave it to me, and I'll have you put down in any part of Norcaster you like, without anybody knowing. And if you like to make me a little present then——"
"You're certain?" demanded Mallalieu, still suspicious, but glad to welcome even a ray of hope. "You know what you're talking about?"
"I never talk idle stuff," retorted Miss Pett. "I'm telling you what I know."
"All right, then," said Mallalieu. "You do your part, and I'll do mine when it comes to it—you'll not find me ungenerous, missis. And I will have that drop of whisky you talked about." ”

“ Goliath stands by his shrine and weeps. He waits beside a couch as if it were another Mallare able to give birth to a [One Hundred Sixty-eight] phantom. Poor dwarf, unlike Mallare he has not learned that suffering is an illusion, that couches and Medusas are illusions. Unlike Mallare there is no smile hanging its star above him.
“Sleep comes. A forgotten world babbles with shadows outside my windows. It is time to say goodnight to my friend, the lodge brother. Turn your tears to the cold moon, my friend. Mallare goes away. Far away into a house where he is alone.” ”

“ And she thought it was very dangerous to have that mallet there, for she said to herself: "Suppose him and me was to be married, and we was to have a son, and he was to grow up to be a man, and come down into the cellar to draw the beer, like as I'm doing now, and the mallet was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!" And she put down the candle and the jug, and sat herself down and began a-crying. ”

“ Mallare’s eyes opened to the night.
[Sixty-one]
“Strange,” he thought, “I see and yet what I look at remains invisible. But tonight outlines dance. The night is a maniac suffering from ennui. His dark eyes are weary with the emptiness they create. Vainly he searches for life, his eyes devouring it, and leaving only his own image for him to contemplate.
“I am not so mad as that. Or I, too, would sit like the night gorged with monotonous shadows. Instead, I translate. A memory of sanity gives diverting outline to the shadows in me. I am not a maniac like the night. ”

“ The mantle pleased the king greatly, though he made but brief reply as he accepted it from the hand of the messenger.
At that perilous moment there came to him the damsel Nimue, who had so recently helped him in his dire need.
"Sir, may I speak with you in private?" she asked the king.
"What have you to say?" he replied, withdrawing from the throng.
"It is this. Beware that you do not put on this mantle, and that no knight of yours puts it on, till you know more. The serpent does not so soon lose its venom. There is death in the mantle's folds. ”

“ Be careful!—there's men down there on the path!—they're very like after you," said the voice. "Wait here a minute!"
"Who are you?" demanded Mallalieu hoarsely. He was endeavouring to free his wrist, but the steel-like fingers clung. "Let go my hand!" he said. "D'ye hear?—let it go!"
"Wait!" said the voice. "It's for your own good. It's me—Miss Pett. I saw you—against that patch of light between the trees there—I knew your big figure. You've got away, of course. Well, you'll not get much further if you don't trust to me. Wait till we hear which way them fellows go." ”

“ Mr. Mallalieu, there's two or three things that's dead certain. To start with, sir, it's absolutely impossible for you to get away from here by yourself—you can't do it!"
"Why not?" growled Mallalieu. "I can get away at nightfall."
"No, sir," affirmed Christopher stoutly. "I saw the condition of the moors last night. Patrolled, Mr. Mallalieu, patrolled! By men with lights. That patrolling, sir, will go on for many a night. Make up your mind, Mr. Mallalieu, that if you set foot out of this house, you'll see the inside of Norcaster Gaol before two hours is over!" ”

“ My madness was not as mad as this dark street. This is a prettier witches’ night than the one I aspired to. I am amused and my amusement is an insult that inspires me. If one cannot become God, one can at least sit and sneer happily at the handiwork of his rival.
“The dawn comes into my head. Poor Mallare, who must readjust his vocabulary to coherences. The night flies away. How simple this little scene becomes. Mysteries vanish. Doors open. Window blinds raise themselves. And now people stick their heads out into the [One Hundred Twenty-three] cold. Wagons, trucks, crowds begin. ”

“ And is there an orgy, a bacchanalian festival, in which she does not play the loathsome part of queen? Oh, Manlius, it is terrible when the hair is grey to be unable to look men in the face, to hear everywhere and be forced to read in the eyes of all: 'This is Mesembrius who corrupts Rome! This man gave life to the monster who daily [Pg 35] consumes the bread and drinks the blood of a hundred thousand starving people. Let us beware of approaching him.' Oh, Manlius, believe me, you will yet kill this woman."
"I have never killed a woman, and I never shall." ”

“ Manlius, with suppressed fury, answered:
"Is love a fruit that becomes overripe if it waits long?"
Glyceria looked at Manlius in horror.
"What is the matter with you that you speak to me of love?"
"Did you not summon me that we might whisper together of rapture, bliss, and sweet delights?"
"Once your words would have given me pleasure; now horror seizes me when you speak in this way."
"Are you not convinced that your [Pg 112] beauty has such magic power that every man who beholds you forgets every woman he has ever seen?" replied Manlius, half drawing his sword from its sheath. ”

“ By the faith of my body, said Balin, I might not save her, for she slew herself suddenly. Me repenteth, said Merlin, because of the death of that lady thou shalt strike a stroke the most dolorous that ever man struck, except the stroke of our Lord, for thou shalt hurt the truest knight and the man of most worship that now liveth, and through that stroke three kingdoms shall be in great poverty, misery, and wretchedness, twelve year, and the knight shall not be whole of that wound many years. ”

“ As he was looking about, the Malee's wife saw him, and ran out of the house and said, 'My dear boy, who are you that dare venture to this dangerous place?' He answered, 'I am a Rajah's son, and I come in search of my father, and my uncles, and my mother whom a wicked enchanter bewitched.' Then the Malee's wife said, 'This country and this palace belong to a great enchanter; he is all-powerful, and if any one displeases him, he can turn them into stones and trees. All the rocks and trees you see here were living people once, and the Magician turned them to what they now are. ”

“ And Mallalieu, seeing that expression, had not been able to refrain from one of his sneering remarks.
"Think yourself very badly done to, don't you, missis!" he had exclaimed with a laugh. "Think I'm a mean 'un, what?"
"I express no opinion, Mr. Mallalieu," replied Miss Pett, frigidly and patiently. "I think it better for people to reflect. A night's reflection," she continued as she made for the door, "oft brings wisdom, even to them as doesn't usually cultivate it." ”

“ That is false, said the queen, and that I will report me unto them all. Then when the ten knights heard Sir Meliagrance’s words, they spake all in one voice and said to Sir Meliagrance: Thou sayest falsely, and wrongfully puttest upon us such a deed, and that we will make good any of us; choose which thou list of us when we are whole of our wounds. Ye shall not, said Sir Meliagrance; away with your proud language, for here ye may all see, said Sir Meliagrance, that by the queen this night a wounded knight hath lain. ”

“ And when either had a sight of other, they made them ready for to joust, and they came together eagerly, and Malgrin brised his spear upon Alisander, and Alisander smote him again so hard that he bare him quite from his saddle to the earth. But this Malgrin arose lightly, and dressed his shield and drew his sword, and bad him alight, saying: Though thou have the better of me on horseback, thou shalt find that I shall endure like a knight on foot. ”

“ I believe you well, said Lambegus, but when thou meetest with Sir Tristram thou shalt have thy hands full. And then they hurtled together and all to brast their spears, and then they pulled out their swords, and hewed on helms and hauberks. At the last Sir Palamides gave Sir Lambegus such a wound that he fell down like a dead knight to the earth. Then he looked after La Beale Isoud, and then she was gone he nyst where. Wit ye well Sir Palamides was never so heavy. So the queen ran into the forest, and there she found a well, and therein she had thought to have drowned herself. ”