Vathek and Other Stories

by William Beckford

  his son was sitting aloof in the same chamber. The sight overcame him. He felt, for the first time, the pangs of remorse. His agitations passed not unnoticed. He was watched: suspicions beginning to unfold, he took alarm, and, one evening, escaped; but not without previously informing the partner of his crimes, which way he intended to flee. Several pursued; but the inscrutable will of Providence blinded their search, and I was doomed to behold the effects of celestial vengeance. Such are the chief circumstances of the tale, I gathered from the youth. I swooned whilst he related it; and could take no sustenance. One whole day afterwards did I pray the Lord, that I might die, rather than be near an incarnate dæmon. With what indignation did I now survey that slender form, and those flowing tresses, which had interested me before, so much in his behalf! No sooner did he perceive the change in my countenance, than sullenly retiring to yonder rock, he sat careless of the sun and scorching winds; for it was now the summer solstice.

  Equally was he heedless of the unwholesome dews. When midnight came, my horrors were augumented; and I meditated, several times, to abandon my hovel, and fly to the next village; but a power, more than human, chained me to the spot, and fortified my mind. I slept, and it was late next morning, when some one called at the wicket of the little fold, where my goats are penned. I arose, and saw a peasant of my acquaintance, leading a female, strangely muffled up, and casting her eyes on the ground. My heart misgave me. I thought this was the very maid, who had been the cause of such unheard-of wickedness. Nor were my conjectures ill-founded. Regardless of the clown, who stood by in stupid astonishment, she fell to the earth, and bathed my hand with tears. Her large blue eyes gleamed between long eye-lashes, her bosom was more agitated than the waves, and whiter than their foam. Her trembling lips, with difficulty, enquired after the youth; and, as she spoke, a glow of conscious guilt lightened up her pale countenance. The full recollection of her lover’s crimes shot through my memory. I was incensed, and would have spurned her away; but she clung to my garments, and seemed to implore my pity, with a look so full of misery, that, relenting, I led her in silence to the extremity of the cliff, where the youth was seated; his feet dangling above the sea. His eye was rolling wildly around, but it soon fixed upon the object, for whose sake he had doomed himself to perdition. I am not inclined to describe their extasies, nor the eagerness with which they sought each other’s embraces. I turned indignantly my head; and, driving my goats to a recess amongst the rocks, sat revolving in my mind these strange events. I neglected procuring any provision for my unwelcome guests; and, about midnight, returned homewards by the light of the moon, which shone serenely in the heavens. Almost the first object of her beams discovered, was the guilty maid, sustaining the head of her lover; who had fainted, through weakness and want of nourishment. I fetched some dry bread; and, dipping it in milk, laid it before them. Having performed this duty, I set open the door of my hut; and, retiring to a neighbouring cavity, there stretched myself on a heap of leaves, and offered my prayers to Heaven. A thousand fears, till this moment unknown, thronged into my fancy. I mistook the shadow of leaves

  that chequered the entrance of the grot, for ugly reptiles, and repeatedly shook my garments. The flow of the distant surges, was deepened by my apprehensions into distant groans; in a word, I could not rest; but, issuing from the cavern, as hastily as my trembling knees would allow, paced along the edge of the precipice. An unaccountable impulse hurried my steps. Dark clouds were driving athwart the sky, and the setting moon was flushed with the deepest crimson. A wan gleam coloured the sea. Such was my terror and shivering, that, unable to advance to my hut, or retreat to the cavern, I was about to shield myself from the night in a sandy crevice, when a loud shriek pierced my ear. My fears had confused me: I was in fact hard by my hovel, and scarcely three paces from the brink of the cavern. It was from thence the cries proceeded. Advancing, in a cold shudder, to its edge, part of which was newly crumbled in, I discovered the form of the young man, suspended by one foot to a branch of juniper, that grew ten feet down. Thus dreadfully did he hang over the gulph, from the branch bent with his weight. His features were distorted, his eye-balls glared with agony, and his screams became so shrill and terrible, that I lost all power of assistance. Fixed I stood, with my eyes rivetted upon the criminal; who incessantly cried out, ‘O God! O Father! save me, if there be yet mercy! Save me; or I sink into the abyss!’ I am convinced he saw me not; for, not once, did he implore my help. My heart was dead within me. I called out upon the Lord. His voice grew faint; and, as I gazed intent upon him, he fell into utter darkness. I sunk to the earth in a trance; during which, a sound, like a rush of pennons,1 assaulted my ear:

  methought, the evil spirit was bearing of his soul. I lifted up my eyes, but nothing stirred: the stillness that prevailed was awful. The moon looked stained with streaks of blood: her orb, hanging low over the waves, afforded a sickly light, by which I perceived some one, coming down that white cliff you see before you; and, soon, I heard the voice of the young woman, calling aloud on her guilty lover. She stopped. She repeated, again and again, her exclamation; but there was no reply. Alarmed and frantic, she hurried along the path; and now, I saw her on the promontory; and now, by yonder pine; devouring with her glances every crevice in the rock. At length, perceiving me, she flew to where I stood, by the fatal precipice; and, having noticed the fragments fresh crumbled in, pored importunately on my countenance. I continued pointing to the chasm. She trembled not; her tears could not flow; but she divined my meaning. ‘He is lost!’ said she; ‘the earth has swallowed him! but, as I have shared with him the highest joy, so will I partake his torments. I will follow: dare not hinder me!’ I shrunk back. Like the phantoms I have seen in dreams, she glanced beside me; and, clasping her hands high above her head, lifted a stedfast look on the hemisphere, and viewed the moon with an anxiousness that told me, she was bidding it farewell, for ever. Observing a silken handkerchief on the ground, with which she had, but an hour ago, bound her lover’s temples, she snatched it up, and, imprinting it with burning kisses, thrust it into her bosom. Once more, expanding her arms

  in the last act of despair and miserable passion, she threw herself, with a furious leap, into the gulph. To its margin I crawled on my knees, and, shuddering, looked down into the gloom. There I remained in the most dreadful darkness; for now, the moon was sunk, the sky obscured with storms, and a tempestuous blast ranging the ocean. Showers poured thick upon me, and the lightning, in clear and frequent flashes, gave me terrifying glimpses of yonder accursed chasm.’ – ‘Stranger, dost thou believe in the great Being? in our Redeemer? in the tenets of our faith?’ I answered with reverence, but said I was no catholic. Then,’ continued the aged woman, ‘I will not declare before an heretic, what were the sacred visions of that night of vengeance.’ She paused: I was silent. After a short interval, with deep and frequent sighs, she resumed her narration. ‘Day-light began to dawn, as if with difficulty; and it was late, before its radiance had tinged the watery and tempestuous clouds. I was still kneeling by the gulph, in prayer, when the cliffs began to brighten, and the beams of the morning sun to strike against me. Then did I rejoice. Then, no longer did I think myself of all human beings the most abject and miserable. How different did I feel myself from those,

  fresh plunged into the abodes of torment, and driven, for ever, from the morning! – Three days elapsed in total solitude: on the fourth, some grave and antient persons arrived from Naples, who questioned me, repeatedly, about the wretched lovers; and to whom I related their fate with every dreadful particular. Soon after I learned, that all discourse concerning them, was expressly stopped; and, that no prayers were offered up for their souls.’ – With these words, as well as I recollect, the old woman ended her singular narration. My blood thrilled as I walked by the gulph to call my guide, who stood aloof under the cliffs. He seemed to think, from the paleness of my countenance, that I had heard some gloomy prediction; and shook his head, when I turned round to bid my old ho
stess, adieu! It was a melancholy evening, and I could hardly refrain from tears, as, winding through the defiles of the rocks, the sad scenes which had passed amongst them, recurred to my memory. Traversing a wild thicket, we soon regained the shore; where I rambled a few minutes, whilst the peasant went for the boat-men. The last streaks of light were quivering on the waters, when I stepped into the bark; and, wrapping myself up in an awning, slept, till we reached Puzzoli; some of whose inhabitants came forth with torches, to light us home. I was vexed to be roused from my visions; and had much rather have sunk into some deep cave of the Cimmerians,1 than returned to Naples.

  LETTER XXIV

  Naples November 9th

  We made our excursion to Pompeii, passing through Portici, and over the last lava of Mount Vesuvius. I experienced a strange mixture of sensations, on surveying at once, the mischiefs of the late eruption, in the ruin of villages, farms, and vineyards; and, all around them, the most luxuriant and delightful scenery of nature. It was impossible to resist the impressions of melancholy from viewing the former, or not to admit that gaiety of spirits which was inspired by the sight of the latter. I say nothing of the museum at Portici, which we saw in our way, on account of the ample descriptions of its contents already given to the public; and, because, it should be described no otherwise, than by an exact catalogue, or by an exhibition of engravings. An hour and a half brought us from this celebrated repository to Pompeii. Nothing can be conceived more delightful than the climate and situation of this city. It stands upon a gently-rising hill, which commands the bay of Naples, with the islands of Caprea and Ischia, the rich coasts of Sorento, the tower of Castel a Mare; and, on the other side, Mount Vesuvius, with the lovely country intervening. It is judged to be about an Italian mile long, and three and an half in circuit. We entered the city at the little gate which lies towards Stabiæ. The first object upon entering, is a colonade round a square court, which seems to have formed a place of arms. Behind the colonade, is a series of little rooms, destined for soldiers barracks. The columns are of stone, plaistered with stucco, and coloured. On several of them we found names, scratched in Greek and Latin; probably, those of the soldiers who had been quartered there. Helmets, and armour for various parts of the body, were discovered, amongst the skeletons of some soldiers, whose hard fate had compelled them to wait on duty, at the perilous moment of the city’s approaching destruction. Dolphins and tridents, sculptured in relief on most of these relics of armour, seem to shew they had been fabricated for naval service. Some of the sculptures on the arms, probably, belonging to officers, exhibit a greater variety of ornaments. The taking of Troy, wrought on one of the helmets, is beautifully executed; and much may be said in commendation of the work of several others.

  We were next led to the remains of a temple and altar, near these barracks. From thence, to some rooms floored (as indeed were almost all that have been cleared from the rubbish) with tesselated, mosaic pavements; of various patterns, and most of them of very elegant execution. Many of these have been taken up, and now form the floors of the rooms in the museum at Portici; whose best ornaments of every kind, are furnished from the discoveries at Pompeii. From the rooms just mentioned, we descended into a subterraneous chamber, communicating with a bathing apartment. It appears to have served as a kind of office to the latter. It was, probably, here, that the cloaths, used in bathing, were washed. A fire-place, a capacious caldron of bronze, and earthen vessels proper for that purpose, found here, have given rise to the conjecture. Contiguous to this room, is a small circular one with a fire-place; which was the stove to the bath. I should not forget to tell you, that the skeleton of the poor laundress (for so the antiquaries will have it) who was very diligently washing the bathing cloaths, at the time of the eruption, was found lying in an attitude of the most resigned death, not far from the washing caldron, in the office just mentioned.

  We were now conducted to the temple, or rather chapel, of Isis.1 The chief remains are, a covered cloister; the great altar, on which was, probably, exhibited the statue of the goddess; a little edifice to protect the sacred well; the pediment of the chapel, with a symbolical vase in relief; ornaments in stucco on the front of the main-building, consisting of the lotus, the sistrum, representations of gods, Harpocrates, Anubis, and other objects of Egyptian worship. The figures on one side of this temple, are Perseus2 with the Gorgon’s head; on the other, Mars and Venus, with Cupids bearing the arms of Mars. We next observe three altars of different sizes. On one of them, is said to have been found, the bones of a victim unconsumed; the last sacrifice having, probably, been stopt by the dreadful calamity which had occasioned it. From a niche in the temple, was taken a statue of marble; a woman pressing her lips with her fore-finger. Within the area is a well, where the priest threw the ashes of the sacrifices. We saw, in the Museum at Portici, some lovely arabesque paintings, cut from the walls of the cloister. The foilage, which ran round the whole sweep of the cloister itself, is in the finest taste. A tablet of basalte, with Egyptian hieroglyphics, was transported from hence to Portici, together with the following inscription, taken from the front gate of the chapel:

  N. POPIDIUS N. F. CELSINUS.

  AEDEM ISIDIS TERRAE MOTU COLLAPSAM

  A FUNDAMENTO P. SUA RESTITUIT.

  HUNC DECURIONES OB LIBERALITATEM

  CUM ESSET ANNORUM SEX ORDINI SUO

  GRATIS ADLEGERUNT.3

  Behind one of the altars we saw a small room, in which our guide informed us a human skeleton was discovered, with some fishbones on a plate near it, and a number of other culinary utensils. We then passed on to another apartment, almost contiguous; where, nothing more remarkable had been found than an iron crow; an instrument with which, perhaps, the unfortunate wretch, whose skeleton I have mentioned above, had vainly endeavoured to extricate herself; this room being, probably, barricaded by the matter of the eruption, This temple, rebuilt, as the insciption imports, by N. Popidius, had been thrown down by a terrible earthquake, that likewise destroyed a great part of the city (sixteen years before the famous eruption of Vesuvius, described by Pliny, which happened in the first year of Titus, AD 79) and buried, at once, both Herculaneum, and Pompeii. As I lingered alone in these environs sacred to Isis, some time after my companions had quitted them, I fell into one of those reveries, which my imagination is so fond of indulging; and, transporting myself seventeen hundred years back, fancied I was sailing with the elder Pliny, on the first day’s eruption, from Misenum, towards Retina and Herculaneum; and, afterwards, toward the villa of his friend Pomponianus2 at Stabiæ. The course of our galley seldom carried us out of sight of Pompeii; and, as often as I could divert my attention from the tremendous spectacle of the eruption, its enormous pillar of smoke standing conically in the air, and tempests of liquid fire, continually bursting out from the midst of it, then raining down the sides of the mountain, and flooding this beautiful coast with innumerable streams of red-hot lava, methought I turned my eyes upon this fair city, whose houses, villas, and gardens, with their long ranges of columned courts and porticos, were made visible through the universal cloud of ashes, by lightning from the mountain; and saw its distracted inhabitants, men, women, and children, running to and fro in despair. But in one spot, I mean the court and precincts of the temple, glared a continued light. It was the blaze of the altars; towards which I discerned a long-robed train of priests, moving in solemn procession, to supplicate by prayer and sacrifice, at this destructive moment, the intervention of Isis, who had taught the first fathers of mankind the culture of the earth, and other arts of civil life. Methought, I could distinguish in their hands, all those paintings and images sacred to this divinity, brought out, on this portentous occasion, from the subterraneous apartments, and mystic cells of the temple. There was every form of creeping thing, and abominable beast, every Egyptian pollution, which the true Prophet had seen in vision, among the secret idolatries of the temple at Jerusalem. The priests arrived at the altars; I saw them gathered round, and purifying th
e three, at once, with the sacred meal; then, all moving slowly about them, each with his right hand towards the fire: it was the office of some, to seize the firebrands of the altars, with which they sprinkled holy water on the numberless by-standers. Then, began the prayers, the hymns, and lustrations3 of the sacrifice. The priests had laid the victims, with their throats downward, upon the altars; were ransacking the baskets of flour and salt, for the knives of slaughter, and proceeding in haste