Preface

________________________________________________
_ Title: Henry Brocken

His Travels and Adventures in the Rich,
Strange, Scarce-Imaginable Regions of Romance

With a heart of furious fancies,
Whereof I am commander:
With a burning spear,
And a horse of air,
To the wilderness I wander;

With a Knight of ghosts and shadows,
I summoned am to Tourney:
Ten leagues beyond
The wide world's end;
Methinks it is no journey.

--ANON. (_Tom o' Bedlam_).

CONTENTS

I. WHITHER?

Come hither, come hither, come hither!

--SHAKESPEARE.

II. LUCY GRAY

Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray;
And, when I crossed the wild,
I chanced to see at break of day
The solitary child.

--WORDSWORTH.

III. JANE EYRE

I used to rush into strange dreams at night: dreams ... where amidst unusual scenes ... I still again and again met Mr. Rochester;... and then the sense of being in his arms, hearing his voice, meeting his eye, touching his hand and cheek, loving him, being loved by him--the hope of passing a lifetime at his side, would be renewed, with all its first force and fire.

--CHARLOTTE BRONTE (_Jane Eyre_, Ch. xxxii.).

IV. JULIA, ELECTRA, DIANEME

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious Lamp of Heaven, the Sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time;
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may for ever tarry.

ANTHEA--

Now is the time when all the lights wax dim,
And thou, Anthea, must withdraw from him
Who was thy servant. Dearest, bury me
Under the holy-oak or gospel tree;...
Or, for mine honour, lay me in that tomb
In which thy sacred relics shall have room:
For my embalming, sweetest, there will be
No spices wanting when I'm laid by thee.

--HERRICK (_Hesperides_).

V. NICK BOTTOM 43

BOT. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanac; find out moonshine, find out moonshine.

--_A Midsummer Night's Dream_, Act III., Sc. i.

VI. SLEEPING BEAUTY

VII. & VIII. LEMUEL GULLIVER

I must freely confess that since my last return some corruptions of my Yahoo nature have revived in me, by conversing with a few of your species, and particularly those of my own family, by an unavoidable necessity; else I should never have attempted so absurd a project as that of reforming the Yahoo race in this kingdom: but I have done with all such visionary schemes for ever.--_Gulliver's Letter to his Cousin._

The first money I laid out was to buy two young stone horses, which I kept in a good stable, and next to them the groom is my greatest favourite; for I feel my spirits revived by the smell he contracts in the stable.

--SWIFT (_A Voyage to the Houyhnhnms_, Ch. xi.).

IX. & X. MISTRUST, OBSTINATE, LIAR, ETC.

And as he read he wept and trembled; and not being able longer to contain, he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying, "What shall I do?"...

The neighbours also came out to see him run; and as he ran, some mocked, others threatened, and some cried after him to return.

ATHEIST--

Now, after awhile, they perceived afar off, one coming softly and alone, all along the highway, to meet them.

--BUNYAN (_The Pilgrim's Progress_).

XI. LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI

"O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

"O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the harvest's done."

--KEATS.

XII. SLEEP AND DEATH

Death will come when thou art dead,
Soon, too soon--
Sleep will come when thou art fled;
Of neither would I ask the boon
I ask of thee, beloved Night--
Swift be thine approaching flight,
Come soon, soon!

--SHELLEY.

XIII. & XIV. A DOCTOR OF PHYSIC

Well, well, well,--
... God, God forgive us all!

--_Macbeth_, Act V., Sc. i.

XV. ANNABEL LEE

I was a child, and she was a child
In this kingdom by the sea;
And we loved with a love that was more than love--
I and my Annabel Lee--
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

--EDGAR ALLAN POE.

XVI. CRISEYDE

... Love hadde his dwellinge
With-inne the subtile stremes of hir yen.

Book I., 304-5.

Y-wis, my dere herte, I am nought wrooth,
Have here my trouthe and many another ooth;
Now speek to me, for it am I, Criseyde!

Book III., 1110-2.

And fare now wel, myn owene swete herte!

Book V., 1421.

--CHAUCER (_Troilus and Criseyde_).

THE TRAVELLER TO THE READER

The traveller who presents himself in this little book feels how tedious a person he may prove to be. Most travellers, that he ever heard of, were the happy possessors of audacity and rigour, a zeal for facts, a zeal for Science, a vivid faith in powder and gold. Who, then, will bear for a moment with an ignorant, pacific adventurer, without even a gun?

He may, however, seem even more than bold in one thing, and that is in describing regions where the wise and the imaginative and the immortal have been before him. For that he never can be contrite enough. And yet, in spite of the renown of these regions, he can present neither map nor chart of them, latitude nor longitude: can affirm only that their frontier stretches just this side of Dream; that they border Impossibility; lie parallel with Peace.

But since it is his, and only his, journey and experiences, his wonder and delight in these lands that he tells of--a mere microcosm, as it were--he entreats forgiveness of all who love them and their people as much as he loves them--scarce "on this side idolatry."

H.B. _

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