A Maggot

by John Fowles

  Q. What saw you inside?

  A. Why, not of heart or bowels, but so it seemed a wall of precious stones, whose colours shone, of topaz and emerald, ruby and sapphyr, coral and peridot, I know not what, yet more clouded in their water than clear, it seemed lit with candles behind, tho' I could see none. As of a coloured window in a steeple-house, yet the pieces smaller. I would be clear. I repeat, this was no true maggot nor living creature, but something of artifice, a machine or engine? Yes. And this sweet balm stronger upon us, also, it issued from therein. Now his Lordship bowed his head, so to say, he that he called the keepers of the waters must now appear.

  Q. These legs - whence came they?

  A. From out its body, from those black mouths I spoke of; and seemed too thin to bear such weight, yet did.

  Q. What thickness had they? Had they thighs, calves?

  A. No, all of one thickness, a flail or such, a constable's staff; that looked as a spinner's legs, with such bulk above.

  Q. On.

  A. Now one appeared in the door, she in silver we had seen before. And in her hand she carried a posy of flowers, white as snow. Smiled she and came brisk down the steps that led from the maggot and stood before us, but there she did turn her face, for of a sudden above her did appear another lady, dressed as her, but more old, her hair grey, tho' she still bore herself straight and upright; and did also smile upon us, yet more gravely, as might a queen.

  Q. How old was she?

  A. Forty years, not more; still in her grain.

  Q. Proceed, why stop you?

  A. I have more to tell, that thee will doubt, but 'tis true, I give thee Heaven's word.

  Q. Heaven sits not before me, mistress.

  A. Then thee must believe its poor servant. For this second lady did the like come down the silver steps, and no sooner was she upon the cavern's floor, than yet another lady appeared in the doorway, as 'twere in her train, that was old; her hair white, her body more frail. Stood she and looked upon us the same as the two first, then came more slowly to the ground beside them. All three there gazed upon us, with that same kindly look. Then further marvel, 'twas plain they was mother and daughter, and daughter's daughter again. Thus it seemed the one woman in her three ages, so like were their features despite their different years.

  Q. In what manner were these two other dressed?

  A. Most strange, as the first, in silver trowse and smock. Thee'll think it immodest in she who was aged dame; yet it seemed not so, for all wore their garments as ones accustomed, not from mere foolery or the like, but as clothes it pleased them to wear for their plainness and their ease.

  Q. Wore they no jewellery or ornaments?

  A. Not one. Unless that the oldest bore a posy of flowers of darkest purple, near to black; and the youngest as I say, of purest white; and her mother flowers of red, like blood. Else were all three as peas in a pod, spite of their ages.

  Q. Saw you not toads nor hares, nor black cats about them? Did not ravens croak outside?

  A. No and no. Nor broom sticks and cauldrons neither. Be warned, thee know'st not who thee mocks.

  Q. I wonder, 'tis all thy picture lacks, with thy flying mawk and its attercop legs, thy scarecrow women.

  A. I must yet tell thee worse for thy disbelief, master. Both young and old that stood beside she in the centre, they did turn towards tier and made as a step to be the closer. And by some strange feat, I know not how again, were joined as one with her, or seemed to melt thus inside of her; disappeared, like to ghosts that pass a wall, and the one woman, she of the grey hair, the mother, left to stand where there were three, as plain as I see thee now. Yet held she no more in her posy her red and none other flowers, no, she held the three kinds together, the white, the red, the dark purple; as if still we must believe by this what our eyes must doubt.

  Q. Mistress, this would tax the most credulous fool in Christendom.

  A. Then thee must play that part. For I'll not tell thee any other tale, that is not true, howsoever a better friend to thy suspicions. Look not angry, I beg thee. Thee art a man of law, thee must play the hammer and the saw upon my word. I warn thee my word is of the spirit. Thee may turn its good plank to dust and chips, and then will be no wiser, in this world.

  Q. That we shall see, mistress. On with thy farrago.

  A. This lady, the mother I will say, did come to where we knelt, first to his Lordship, and reached her hands to make him stand; that he did, and she placed her arms about him, they did embrace, as mother might son that had been on long travel and she had not seen nor held this many a year. Then did she speak to him, in no tongue that I knew, her voice low and most sweet; to which his Lordship replied, in that same strange tongue.

  Q. Not so fast. What tongue was this?

  A. Not one I had ever heard before.

  Q. What tongues hast heard in thy life?

  A. Of Dutch and German, and French besides. A little also of the Spanish and Italian.

  Q. This was none of these?

  A. No.

  Q. When his Lordship did answer in it, seemed it well, as one familiar?

  'T. As most familiar, and not in his previous self.

  Q. In what manner note

  A. more of respect and simple gratitude. As I say, so a son brought to his mother's presence after long absence. And I forget also what had been strange in him at the beginning, when first she came to him, that he had cast his sword aside, as 'twere something he needed to carry no more, its sash and sheath likewise; so a man that has been abroad in dangerous places and comes now at last beneath his own roof, where he may be at his ease.

  Q. You say he cast it aside, mistress - mean you rather he laid it carefully aside, or tossed it away, as if he cared not?

  A. So he cared never to wear it again, for it fell ten feet away, behind, and the sheath and belt the same; like to they had all been disguise or mask till then, their purpose at an end.

  Q. Now this - did they greet and speak as persons that had met before?

  A. He showed too little wonder, had they not. Next he turned to present us, the first Dick, who remained upon his knees, but the lady reached her hand to him, that he did seize most fervently and press to his mouth. Then she did make him stand also, and now 'twas my turn. First I must tell thee his Lordship spoke to her in their tongue, and tho' I know not what was said, I heard my name most clear, and that one I was baptized, not Fanny, but Rebecca; which he had never used before, and I know not how he knew it.

  Q. You had never told him of it, nor Dick, nor any other?

  A. Nor none in the bagnio, unless it be Claiborne.

  Q. Then he did learn it of her. On.

  A. This lady was before me, where I knelt; and smiled down upon me, as we had been old friends long apart, but new met. And of a sudden stooped and reached out her hands to take mine and raised me to my feet; and so we stood close, for she would not loose my hands when I was risen, and still she smiled and searched my eyes, as an old friend might, to learn how much I had changed; and then passed me her posy of the three hues of flower, like it was her private favour she gave. As 'twere in return, she lifted my crown of may from off my head, and held it to look at, yet put it not on, for she set it back upon me, with a smile, and kissed me gentle upon the mouth, in the old fashion, so to say I was welcome. In all of this I knew not what to do, yet must curtsey for her flowers and smiled her a little back, tho' not as she, who did so she knew me well, yea, as a mother or loving aunt might.

  Q. Nothing was spoke?

  A. Not one word.

  Q. Moved she with ease and grace, as a lady?

  A. With great simplicity, like her daughter, as one who did not care for the airs of this world, nor knew of them.

  Q. Yet came of high estate?

  A. Yes. Most high.

  Q. What of these flowers she gave?

  A. They were of the three colours, of the same kind, somewhat in look as they that grows upon the Cheddar rocks, that they bring to Bristol at midsummer, and cal
l them June pinks. Yet not so, these were more large, and far richer scent; too soon in season, besides.

  Q. You had seen none like before?

  A. No, never. Tho' hope to see and smell again.

  Q. How, see again?

  A. Thee shalt hear. Next did the lady take my hand anew and would lead me to the maggot. I feared not her, yet I feared to enter, and looked to his Lordship that stood behind, over my shoulder, to ask what I must do. At which he raised a finger to his lips, to say I must not speak, and nodded also to she the mother who had greeted us, that I must give her my attention. And when I looked to her, she seemed to understand what I would ask, and did raise her hands before her breast, as her daughter had done, and did smile also, plain as plain to still my fear. So I passed on with her as she wished and mounted the silver steps and was conducted inside her coach, her parlour, I know not how to say, 'twas none such, but a place of great wonders, a chamber walled all of those gleaming stones I had seen through the doorway.

  Q. His Lordship and Dick came also?

  A. They did.

  Q. The lady gave thee the precedence?

  A. Yes.

  Q. Didst not stand at a wonder to be treated so - thou, a whore?

  A. What should I be else? I was as one struck dumb.

  Q. Tell more of this chamber. How were these precious stones?

  A. Some shone more bright than others, and of many colours, cut both square and round, and all the walls and even a part of the roof or ceiling above was of them. And upon many were signs or marks, so to say each had some magic or secret purpose, tho' not that I could read. And many also had small clocks or pocket-watches beside them, yet the hands moved not, they were not wound.

  Q. Were not the hours marked?

  A. There were marks, but not as those of our world.

  Q. How large was this chamber?

  A. Not broad more than ten or twelve feet; more long, it may be twenty foot; and tall as broad.

  Q. How was it lit?

  A. By two panels upon the ceiling that gave a hidden light, tho' less strong than from that light outside, the maggot's eye.

  Q. How, panels?

  A. They seemed of clouded glass, milk-glass as I say; yet hid all behind, and whence came this light.

  Q. Were there no hangings, no furniture?

  A. None when we came. Yet when we were entered the lady touched her finger upon a precious stone beside her, and that door through which we had come closed of itself, as it had opened, upon some secret design; and the silver steps likewise folded back of their own will. And then she touched another stone, or the same; and there fell from both walls as 'twere a bench or sitting-places. I know not how, unless also by some spring, upon a hinge, like secret drawers in a chest. And there she invited us to sit, his Lordship and Dick on one side, I on the other. And mine I sat upon seemed covered with a white skin, finest shagreen, yet was soft as a down bed to my nether parts. Then went she to the far end of the chamber and touched another stone, which bared a cupboard, in which stood many flasks and bottles in a cloudy glass, like unto a 'pothecary's shop, and some it seemed held powders, others of liquid, I know not. One of these flasks she took, it seemed to hold such as Canary wine, for it was golden, and poured of it into three small crystal glasses, not cut, tho' marvellous light to hold, they were so thin; and to each of us brought one, so a serving-maid might. First I would not drink, fearing some potion, for all I saw his Lordship did not fear to swallow,, nor Dick neither. Until she came back to where I sat and smiled again down at me, where by taking my glass and drinking a little of it, she made proof I need fear for nothing; and gave me the glass back, and so I drank. 'Twas not as it seemed, of wine, but more of some fruit, it had of the taste of fresh apricocks, or jargonelles, yet more sweet and subtle, and soothed my throat, that was dry.

  Q. It tasted not of spiritous liquor? Of brandy or gin?

  A. Of juice from pressed fruit.

  Q. Next.

  A. Next came she and sat beside me close; and reached above my head and touched a blue stone upon the wall. Of a sudden all was dark, there was no light inside the chamber, yet some outside that passed through those small windows I spake of at the first, that were as eyes - and I have forgot, from this inside seemed not as from out, not of green glass, no, clear as any, not flaw nor bubble. And I should have been mortal afraid again, had not her arm fallen about my shoulder to comfort, and her other hand found mine in the darkness and pressed it, to comfort also. 'Twas as if she would assure she neither meant nor would bring harm, but held me as she might her child, to calm all these my alarms at what did pass my understanding.

  Q. She held you close?

  A. In friendship or sisterhood. So we might sometimes at the

  bagnio, when we had leisure, or waited.

  Q. And next?

  A. There came a greater prodigy than all, for where was the chamber's end, that stood before the maggot's head, was of a sudden a window upon a great city we glid above, as a

  bird.

  Q. What is this?

  A. It was so, I tell thee.

  Q. And I tell thee not, 'tis too much.

  A. I swear by Jesus, it happened so, or so seemed.

  Q. This fine chamber of precious stones flew out of the cavern in an instant and above a great city? I am not your green gosling, mistress, by the heavens am I not.

  A. 'Tis in my telling I deceive thee. In naught else. I tell thee what I saw, tho' how I saw it I know not.

  Q. This is more fit for chapbook than any ear of reason. I believe thee a cunning whore still, with all thy talk of hammers and saws, dust and chips.

  A. I tell truth. I beg thee, thee must believe.

  Q. Was there not that in the potion you were given which brought this fantastick vision?

  A. I felt no drowsing nor sleep; and all most real, while we flew above this city, much else besides, as I shall tell. Notwithstanding it was done in part by some good magic, as in a dream, for I might see by those smaller windows we moved not from the cavern, its walls still stood outside.

  Q. How great was this window by which you saw the city?

  A. Three feet by four, more long than high.

  Q. Yet you say you might see this machine you were entered in moved not from the cavern?

  A. No.

  Q. You were bewitched, or drugged, or both.

  A. It may be, certain I was transported. Through this window we saw not as we might will, through glass ordinary. 'Twas as some other would have us see: here, from afar, here close; here to this side, then to another. I would fain turn my eyes to look aside, or back to see again; but could not. ln vain my eyes would linger, I must see as it saw.

  Q. A window cannot see, mistress. You were not in your proper senses. And what city was this you seemed to fly over?

  A. Exceeding beautiful, like none upon this earth that I have seen or heard speak of. All built of white and gold, and everywhere was parks and plaisances, fair streets and malls, gardens and green orchards, streams and fishponds. 'Twas more rich-peopled countryside than city. And over all, there was peace.

  Q. How know you they were orchards? Did you not fly far above?

  A. Yet were they small trees set in rows, as orchards, and so I took them. And among them, that joined all, fair great highways that seemed paved of gold, where went people and shining carriages, tho' no horse pulled them. Yet they moved.

  Q. How moved?

  A. I know not. Nor walked they upon the golden streets, neither legs nor feet, and yet they moved, the very paving moved, and bore them along. Tho' they could move as we, for in a field we passed above were two rings of maidens dancing, and in another men also, albeit in lines; and others we saw that walked like us.

  Q. How danced they?

  A. It did seem they sang as they danced, and the maidens did show most graceful motions, so they did sweep a floor, then threw their faces to the sky in joy; and the men danced while they made to broadcast seed, then mowed it in pretence, the like, t
hough with faster motion. This land did worship cleanliness of spirit, for many I saw swept in truth with broom and besom upon the paths and golden malls, so to show they could not abide uncleanliness. While others did launder by the streams. And the dancing men did rejoice in the bounty of the Lord. On all was a sweet order, in gardens and orchards, I

  doubt not in their houses also.

  Q. Seemed they as us in their outward?

  A. Of many nations. Some white, some olive or yellow, some brown, others black as night. I could not see all, they were too far below. 'Twas so we stood upon a great tower, and yet one that moved, it might have legs.

  Q. And what clothes?

  A. Why, all as the three ladies were dressed, in those same silver trowses and smocks, whether men or women. We passed above so swift I saw not all; for all was no sooner glimpsed than gone, and new appeared.

  Q. Were not those that were black savages naked?

  A. No.

  Q. Saw you no churches?

  A. No.

  Q. No sign of God nor His religion?

  A. All sign, yet no wont sign. No church, no priest, nothing of such.

  Q. Nor heathen temples, I know not?

  A. No.

  Q. No palaces or great buildings? No 'changes, hospitals, courts of justice?

  A. None of those, save fine large buildings where it seemed all did live in common, without distinction nor difference. The most lay without fences or walls and scattered among the green, not crowded close nor smoking foul. All fair, each like

  to a great farmhouse in its field. All green, as high summer. And the sun shone on all, like to June eternal. So now do I call this happy land that we was shown.

  Q. You call it how, mistress?

  A. It is June Eternal.

  Q. Alias, castles in Spain. In what manner were these their houses built - of stone or brick? Had they thatched roofs or tiled with slate?

  A. Neither, for they were not of this world, such as I know. With walls of white, most smooth, so the inside of a sea shell, and roofed and doored in gold; and of all kinds, some of a figure of great tents, others with strange gardens upon their roofs, that were flat, yet others round, like great cheeses; and many fashioned else beside.