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Authors: Peter Ackroyd
Tags: Fiction
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many. And they are much closer than I ever knew. Now there is the rushing of a great wind. Soul! Is this why you once guarded me? Were you protecting me against them?
32
Sidonia:
So you saw him?
Ornatus:
He was standing just outside the crippled gate.
Sidonia:
Curious. That is not his customary spot.
Ornatus:
And there was another peculiar thing: he was talking to himself.
Sidonia:
No!
Ornatus:
I could see him gesticulating, too. He looked very fierce.
Sidonia:
Could you hear anything he said?
Ornatus:
Something about a golden lane. And the crowds all about him. Yet there was no one there except himself. Then he came up to me.
Sidonia:
What did you do?
Ornatus:
I offered him reverence and he bowed in return. We should have remained silent, according to custom—
Sidonia:
Of course.
Ornatus:
But he suddenly asked me if I was waiting for someone.
Sidonia:
What?
Ornatus:
‘I am not waiting,’ I said, ‘I am simply being still. It is holy to be still.’ Then he laughed.
Sidonia:
And so you laughed?
Ornatus:
Naturally. Then he asked me if I was thinking about anything. ‘Nothing at all,’ I replied. He asked me why not. ‘It is not compulsory to think,’ I told him; ‘it is not like dreaming.’
Sidonia:
Well put.
Ornatus:
Thank you. Then he put his hand across his face and mentioned that he had seen me in the race against the oarsmen of Essex Street. He asked me if I had won—
Sidonia:
What an extraordinary question.
Ornatus:
And I had to explain to him, just as if he were a child, that no one was expected to win. He laughed again. Then he asked me if that was why I looked so sad.
Sidonia:
Can he be losing his mind?
Ornatus:
He did say something about losing his soul, but it was so ridiculous that I pretended not to listen. Then, after a moment, he mentioned that he was going on a journey.
Sidonia:
A journey? You mean—
Ornatus:
When you leave the city.
Sidonia:
Whatever for?
Ornatus:
That is precisely what I asked him.
Sidonia:
And what did he say?
Ornatus:
He looked around and murmured something about other places. Other people. I said, ‘Listen to me, Plato.’ That is how I addressed him.
Sidonia:
Not as an orator?
Ornatus:
No. That seemed somehow unimportant. Or unnecessary. ‘Listen to me, Plato. We have all grown up together within the city. We have obeyed its injunctions. We have been instructed in its mysteries. You yourself were chosen to guide us with your oratory. We spend our lives contemplating its goodness and beauty. We hear you expounding upon its inner harmonies. Why try and discover something else beyond its Wall?’ He gave a curious answer.
Sidonia:
Which was?
Ornatus:
‘Perhaps, dear Ornatus, I am not travelling as far as you think. Perhaps it is possible to embark upon a journey while remaining in the same place.’
Sidonia:
What did he mean by that?
Ornatus:
I have absolutely no idea. Come. Shall we take a skiff down the Fleet and search for angels’ feathers?
The Journey
of Plato to the
Underworld
33
There was a cave, and the ground sloped downwards. I sensed the smell of that which was neither living nor dead. I believed that I could hear voices and I began walking towards the mouth of the cave. I admit to a slight sense of fear, but I submit that all of us share some horror of darkness. You tell me that I was dreaming? This was no dream. I was as wakeful and as watchful as I have ever been.
When I entered the cave the air seemed so heavy that, for a moment, I believed I could go no further. But the ground still sloped downwards and instinctively I bowed my head as I walked into the darkness. I do not know how far I travelled. It is possible that I did not move at all. Perhaps I stood still. Surely you understand? It had grown to such a pitch of blackness that I could not see my own body, or feel aware of any movement. I realised later, of course, what had happened. I was changing dimensions in order to enter the world of Mouldwarp. Who cried out that
32
Sidonia:
So you saw him?
Ornatus:
He was standing just outside the crippled gate.
Sidonia:
Curious. That is not his customary spot.
Ornatus:
And there was another peculiar thing: he was talking to himself.
Sidonia:
No!
Ornatus:
I could see him gesticulating, too. He looked very fierce.
Sidonia:
Could you hear anything he said?
Ornatus:
Something about a golden lane. And the crowds all about him. Yet there was no one there except himself. Then he came up to me.
Sidonia:
What did you do?
Ornatus:
I offered him reverence and he bowed in return. We should have remained silent, according to custom—
Sidonia:
Of course.
Ornatus:
But he suddenly asked me if I was waiting for someone.
Sidonia:
What?
Ornatus:
‘I am not waiting,’ I said, ‘I am simply being still. It is holy to be still.’ Then he laughed.
Sidonia:
And so you laughed?
Ornatus:
Naturally. Then he asked me if I was thinking about anything. ‘Nothing at all,’ I replied. He asked me why not. ‘It is not compulsory to think,’ I told him; ‘it is not like dreaming.’
Sidonia:
Well put.
Ornatus:
Thank you. Then he put his hand across his face and mentioned that he had seen me in the race against the oarsmen of Essex Street. He asked me if I had won—
Sidonia:
What an extraordinary question.
Ornatus:
And I had to explain to him, just as if he were a child, that no one was expected to win. He laughed again. Then he asked me if that was why I looked so sad.
Sidonia:
Can he be losing his mind?
Ornatus:
He did say something about losing his soul, but it was so ridiculous that I pretended not to listen. Then, after a moment, he mentioned that he was going on a journey.
Sidonia:
A journey? You mean—
Ornatus:
When you leave the city.
Sidonia:
Whatever for?
Ornatus:
That is precisely what I asked him.
Sidonia:
And what did he say?
Ornatus:
He looked around and murmured something about other places. Other people. I said, ‘Listen to me, Plato.’ That is how I addressed him.
Sidonia:
Not as an orator?
Ornatus:
No. That seemed somehow unimportant. Or unnecessary. ‘Listen to me, Plato. We have all grown up together within the city. We have obeyed its injunctions. We have been instructed in its mysteries. You yourself were chosen to guide us with your oratory. We spend our lives contemplating its goodness and beauty. We hear you expounding upon its inner harmonies. Why try and discover something else beyond its Wall?’ He gave a curious answer.
Sidonia:
Which was?
Ornatus:
‘Perhaps, dear Ornatus, I am not travelling as far as you think. Perhaps it is possible to embark upon a journey while remaining in the same place.’
Sidonia:
What did he mean by that?
Ornatus:
I have absolutely no idea. Come. Shall we take a skiff down the Fleet and search for angels’ feathers?
The Journey
of Plato to the
Underworld
33
There was a cave, and the ground sloped downwards. I sensed the smell of that which was neither living nor dead. I believed that I could hear voices and I began walking towards the mouth of the cave. I admit to a slight sense of fear, but I submit that all of us share some horror of darkness. You tell me that I was dreaming? This was no dream. I was as wakeful and as watchful as I have ever been.
When I entered the cave the air seemed so heavy that, for a moment, I believed I could go no further. But the ground still sloped downwards and instinctively I bowed my head as I walked into the darkness. I do not know how far I travelled. It is possible that I did not move at all. Perhaps I stood still. Surely you understand? It had grown to such a pitch of blackness that I could not see my own body, or feel aware of any movement. I realised later, of course, what had happened. I was changing dimensions in order to enter the world of Mouldwarp. Who cried out that
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