A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain (the red fox clan .TXT) 📕

AN INSPIRATION

I was so tired that even my fears were not able to keep me awake long.

When I next came to myself, I seemed to have been asleep a very long time.  My first thought was, “Well, what an astonishing dream I’ve had!  I reckon I’ve waked only just in time to keep from being hanged or drowned or burned or something....  I’ll nap again till the whistle blows, and then I’ll go down to the arms factory and have it out with Hercules.”

But just then I heard the harsh music of rusty chains and bolts, a light flashed in my eyes, and that butterfly, Clarence, stood before me!  I gasped with surprise; my breath almost got away from me.

“What!” I said, “you here yet?  Go along with the rest of the dream! scatter!”

But he only laughed, in his light-hearted way, and fell to making fun of my sorry plight.

“All right,” I said resignedly, “let the dream go on; I’m in no hurry.”

“Prithee what dream?”

“What dream?  Why, the dream that I am in Arthur’s court—a person who never existed; and that I am talking to you, who are nothing but a work of the imagination.”

“Oh, la, indeed! and is it a dream that you’re to be burned to-morrow?  Ho-ho—answer me that!”

The shock that went through me was distressing.  I now began to reason that my situation was in the last degree serious, dream or no dream; for I knew by past experience of the lifelike intensity of dreams, that to be burned to death, even in a dream, would be very far from being a jest, and was a thing to be avoided, by any means, fair or foul, that I could contrive.  So I said beseechingly:

“Ah, Clarence, good boy, only friend I’ve got,—for you are my friend, aren’t you?—don’t fail me; help me to devise some way of escaping from this place!”

“Now do but hear thyself!  Escape?  Why, man, the corridors are in guard and keep of men-at-arms.”

“No doubt, no doubt.  But how many, Clarence?  Not many, I hope?”

“Full a score.  One may not hope to escape.”  After a pause—hesitatingly:  "and there be other reasons—and weightier.”

“Other ones? What are they?”

“Well, they say—oh, but I daren’t, indeed daren’t!”

“Why, poor lad, what is the matter?  Why do you blench?  Why do you tremble so?”

“Oh, in sooth, there is need!  I do want to tell you, but—”

“Come, come, be brave, be a man—speak out, there’s a good lad!”

He hesitated, pulled one way by desire, the other way by fear; then he stole to the door and peeped out, listening; and finally crept close to me and put his mouth to my ear and told me his fearful news in a whisper, and with all the cowering apprehension of one who was venturing upon awful ground and speaking of things whose very mention might be freighted with death.

“Merlin, in his malice, has woven a spell about this dungeon, and there bides not the man in these kingdoms that would be desperate enough to essay to cross its lines with you!  Now God pity me, I have told it!  Ah, be kind to me, be merciful to a poor boy who means thee well; for an thou betray me I am lost!”

I laughed the only really refreshing laugh I had had for some time; and shouted:

“Merlin has wrought a spell!  Merlin , forsooth!  That cheap old humbug, that maundering old ass?  Bosh, pure bosh, the silliest bosh in the world!  Why, it does seem to me that of all the childish, idiotic, chuckle-headed, chicken-livered superstitions that ev—oh, damn Merlin!”

But Clarence had slumped to his knees before I had half finished, and he was like to go out of his mind with fright.

“Oh, beware!  These are awful words!  Any moment these walls may crumble upon us if you say such things.  Oh call them back before it is too late!”