THE DEATH OF HANRAHAN
Hanrahan,thatwasneverlonginoneplace,wasbackagainamongthevillagesthatareatthefootofSlieveEchtge,IlletonandScalpandBallylee,stoppingsometimesinonehouseandsometimesinanother,andfindingaweleineveryplaceforthesakeoftheoldtimesandofhispoetryandhislearning.Therewassomesilverandsomecoppermohelittleleatherbagunderhiscoat,butitwasseldomheakeanythingfromit,foritwaslittleheused,andtherewasnotohepeoplethatwouldhavetakenpaymentfromhim.Hishandhadgrownheavyontheblackthornheleanedon,andhischeekswerehollowandworn,butsofarasfoodwent,potatoesandmilkandabitofoatencake,hehadwhathewantedofit;anditisnotontheedgeofsowildandboggyaplaceasEchtgeamugofspiritswouldbewanting,withthetasteoftheturfsmokeonit.HewouldwanderaboutthebigwoodatKinadife,orhewouldsitthroughmanyhoursofthedayamongtherushesaboutLakeBelshragh,listeningtothestreamsfromthehills,orwatgtheshadowsinthebrownbogpools;sittingsoquietasnottostartlethedeerthatcamedownfromtheheathertothegrassailledfieldsatthefallofnight.Asthedayswentbyitseemedasifhewasbeginningtobelongtosomeworldoutofsightandmisty,thathasforitsmearingthecoloursthatarebeyondallothercoloursandthesilehatarebeyondallsilehisworld.Andsometimeshewouldhearingandgoinginthewoodmusicthatwhenitstoppedwentfromhismemorylikeadream;andohestillnessofmiddayheheardasoundliketheclashingofmanyswords,thatwenttimewithoutanybreak.Andatthefallofnightandatmoohelakewouldgrowtobelikeagatewayofsilverandshiningstones,andtherewouldefromitssilehefaintsoundofkeeningandhtenedlaughterbrokenbythewind,andmanypalebeinghands.
Hewassittinglookingintothewateroneeveninginharvesttime,thinkingofallthesecretsthatwereshutintothelakesandthemountains,whenheheardaingfromthesouth,veryfaintatfirst,butgettinglouderandclearerastheshadowoftherushesgrewloillhecouldhearthewords,Iambeautiful,Iambeautiful;thebirdsintheair,themothsuheleaves,thefliesoverthewaterlookatme,fortheyneversawanyonesobeautifulasmyself.Iamyoung;Iamyoung:lookuponme,mountains;lookuponme,perishingwoods,formybodywillshinelikethewhitewaterswhenyouhavebeenhurriedaway.Youandthewholeraen,andtheraceofthebeastsandtheraceofthefishandthewingedracearedroppinglikeadlethatisnearlybur,butIlaughoutbecauseIaminmyyouth.Thevoicewouldbreakofffromtimetotime,asiftired,awouldbeginagain,callingoutalwaysthesamewords,Iambeautiful,Iambeautiful.Presentlythebushesattheedgeofthelittlelaketrembledforamoment,andaveryoldwomanforcedherwayamongthem,andpassedbyHanrahan,walkingwithveryslowsteps.Herfacewasofthecolourofearth,andmorewrihanthefaceofanyoldhagthatwaseverseen,andhergreyhairwashanginginwisps,andtheragsshewaswearingdidnothideherdarkskinthatwasroughenedbyallweathers.
Shepassedbyhimwithhereyeswideopen,andherheadhigh,andherarmshangingstraightbesideher,aintotheshadowofthehillstowardsthewest.
AsortofdreadcameoverHanrahanwhenhesawher,forhekobeoneWinnyByrhatwentbeggingfromplacetoplacegalwaysthesamecry,andhehadoftehatshehadoncesuchwisdomthatallthewomenoftheneighboursusedtogolookingforadviher,andthatshehadavoicesobeautifulthatmenandwomenwouldefromeveryparttohearhersingatawakeorawedding;andthattheOthers,thegreatSidhe,hadstolesoneSamhainnightmanyyearsago,whenshehadfallenasleepontheedgeofarath,andhadseeninherdreamstheservantsofEchtgeofthehills.
Andasshevanishedathehillside,itseemedasifhercry,Iambeautiful,Iambeautiful,wasingfromamoarsintheheavens.
Therewasacoldwindcreepingamongtherushes,andHanrahaoshiver,andheroseuptogotosomehousewheretherewouldbeafireonthehearth.Butinsteaddownthehillashewasused,hewentonupthehill,aloletrackthatwasmaybearoadandmaybethedrybedofastream.ItwasthesamewayWinnyhadgone,anditledtothelittlewhereshestoppedwheoppedinanyplaceatall.Hewalkedveryslowlyupthehillasifhehadagreatloadonhisbadatlasthesawalightalittletotheleft,ahoughtitlikelyitwasfromWinnyshouseitwasshining,aurnedfromthepathtogotoit.Butcloudshadeoverthesky,andhecouldnotwellseehisway,andafterhehadgoepshisfootslippedandhefellintoabogdrain,andthoughhedraggedhimselfoutofit,holdingontotherootsoftheheather,thefallhadgivenhimagreatshake,abetterfittoliedownthantogotravelling.Buthehadalwaysgreatce,andhemadehiswayon,stepbystep,tillatlasthecametoWinnys,thathadnowindow,butthelightwasshiningfromthedoor.Hethoughttogointoitandtorestforawhile,butwhenhecametothedoorhedidnotseeWinnyi,butwhathesawwasfrey?hairedwomenplayingcards,butWinnyherselfwasnotamongthem.Hanrahansatdoofturfbesidethedoor,forhewastiredoutandout,andhadnowishfortalkingorforcard?playing,andhisbonesandhisjointsagthewaytheywere.Hecouldhearthefourwomentalkingastheyplayed,andcallingouttheirhands.Anditseemedtohimthattheyweresaying,likethestrangemaninthebarnlongago:SpadesandDiamonds,CeandPower.Clubsas,KnowledgeandPleasure.Aonsayingthosewordsoveraohimself;aherornothewasinhisdreams,thepainthatwasinhisshoulderneverlefthim.
Andafterawhilethefourwomeninthebegantoquarrel,andeaetosaytheotherhadnotplayedfair,andtheirvoicesgrewfromloudtolouder,andtheirscreamsandtheircurses,tillatlastthewholeairwasfilledwiththehemaroundandabovethehouse,andHanrahan,hearingitbetweensleepandwaking,said:Thatisthesoundofthefightiweenthefriendsandtheill?wishersofamanthatisnearhisdeath.
AndIwonder,hesaid,whoisthemaninthislonelyplacethatisnearhisdeath.
Itseemedasifhehadbeenasleepalongtime,andheopenedhiseyes,andthefacehesawoverhimwastheoldwrinkledfaceofWinnyoftheCrossRoad.Shewaslookinghardathim,asiftomakesurehewasnotdead,andshewipedawaythebloodthathadgrowndryonhisfacewithawetcloth,andafterawhileshepartlyhelpedhimandpartlyliftedhimintothe,andlaidhimdownonwhatservedherforabed.Shegavehimacoupleofpotatoesfromapotonthefire,and,whatservedhimbetter,amugwater.Hesleptalittlenowandagain,andsometimesheheardhersingingtoherselfasshemovedaboutthehouse,andsothenightworeaway.Whentheskybeganthtenwiththedawforthebag;wherehislittlestoreofmoneywas,aouttoher,aookoutabitofcopperandabitofsilvermoney,butsheletitdropagainasifitwasnothingtoher,maybebecauseitwasnotmoneyshewasusedtobegfor,butfoodandrags;ormaybebecausetherisingofthedawnwasfillihprideandanewbeliefinherowbeauty.Shewentoutandcutafewarmfulsofheather,andbroughtitinandheapeditoverHanrahan,sayingsomethingaboutthecoldofthem,andwhileshedidthathetooknoticeofthewrinklesinherfadthegreynessofherhair,andthebrokehatwerebladfullofgaps.Andwhenhewaswellcoveredwiththeheathershewentoutofthedoorandawaydownthesideofthemountain,andhecouldhearhercry,Iambeautiful,Iambeautiful,gettinglessandlessasshewent,tillatlastitdiedawayaltogether.
Hanrahanlaytherethroughthelengthoftheday,inhispainsandhisweakness,aheshadowsoftheeveningwerefallingheheardhervoiceagainingupthehillside,andshecameinandboiledthepotatoesandsharedthemwithhimthesamewayasbefore.Andonedayafteranotherpassedlikethat,andtheweightofhisfleshwasheavyabouthim.Butlittlebylittleashegrewweakerhekhereweresomegreaterthanhimselfintheroomwithhim,andthatthehousebegantobefilledwiththem;anditseemedtohimtheyhadallpowerintheirhands,andthattheymightwithoouchofthehandbreakdownthewallthehardnessofpainhadbuiltabouthim,andtakehimintotheirownworld.Andsometimeshecouldhearvoices,veryfaintandjoyful,gfromtheraftersoroutoftheflameonthehearth,andothertimesthewholehousewasfilledwithmusicthatwentthroughitlikeawind.Andafterawhilehisweaknessleftnoplaceforpain,andtheregrewupabouthimagreatsilencelikethesileheheartofalake,andtherecamethroughitliketheflameofarushlightthefaintjoyfulvoiceseverandalways.
Onemheheardmusiewhereoutsidethedoor,andasthedaypasseditgrewlouderandlouderuntilitdrowhefaintjoyfulvoices,andevenWinnyscryuponthehillsideatthefallofevening.Aboutmidnightandinamoment,thewallsseemedtomeltawayandtoleavehisbedfloatingonapalemistylightthatshoneoneverysideasfarastheeyecouldsee;andafterthefirstblindingofhiseyeshesawthatitwasfullofgreatshadowyfiguresrushinghereandthere.
Atthesametimethemusiccameveryclearlytohim,andhekhatitwasbutthetinualclashingofswords.
Iamaftermydeath,hesaid,andintheveryheartofthemusicofHeaven.OCheruhimandSeraphim,receivemysoul!
Athiscrythelightwhereitwasohimfilledwithsparksofyetbrighterlight,ahatthesewerethepointsofswordsturowardshisheart;andthenasuddenflame,brightandburninglikeGodslodshate,sweptoverthelightaoutandhewasindarkness.Atfirsthecouldseenothing,forallwasasdarkasiftherewasblackbogearthabouthim,butallofasuddenthefireblazedupasifawispofstrawhadbeenthrownuponit.Andashelookedatit,thelightwasshiningonthebigpotthatwashangingfromahook,andostonewhereWinobakeaowandagain,andonthelongrustyknifesheusedtobecuttisoftheheatherwith,andonthelongblackthornstickhehadbroughtintothehousehimself.Andwhehosefourthings,somememorycameintoHanrahansmind,andstrengthcameba,andherosesittingupinthebed,andhesaidveryloudaheCauldrooheSword,theSpear.Whatarethey?Whodotheybelongto?AndIhaveaskedthequestionthistime,hesaid.
Andthenhefellbackagain,weak,andthebreathgoingfromhim.
WinnyByrhathadbeentendingthefire,cameoverthen,havinghereyesfixedonthebed;andthefaintlaughingvoicesbegangoutagain,andapalelight,greylikeawave,camecreepiheroom,andhedidnotknowfromwhatsecretworlditcame.HesawWinnyswitheredfadherwitheredarmsthatweregreylikecrumbledearth,andweakashewasheshrankbackfarthertowardsthewall.Aherecameoutofthemud?stiffenedragsarmsaswhiteandasshadowyasthefoamonariver,andtheywereputabouthisbody,andavoicethathecouldhearwellbutthatseemedtoefromalongwayoffsaidtohiminawhisper:Youwillgolookingformenomoreuponthebreastsofwomen.
Whoareyou?hesaidthen.
Iamohelastingpeople,ofthelastingunweariedVoices,thatmakemydwellinginthebrokenandthedying,andthosethathavelosttheirwits;andIcamelookingforyou,andyouaremiilthewholeworldisburlikeadlethatisspent.Andlookupnow,shesaid,forthewispsthatareforourweddingarelighted.
Hesawthenthatthehousewascrowdedwithpaleshadowyhands,andthateveryhandwasholdingwhatwassometimeslikeawisplightedforamarriage,andsometimeslikeatallwhitedleforthedead.
WhenthesuhemofthemorrowWinnyoftheCrossRoadsroseupfromwhereshewassittingbesidethebody,andbeganherbeggingfromtownlandtotownland,singingthesamesongasshewalked,Iambeautiful,Iambeautiful.Thebirdsintheair,themothsuheleaves,thefliesoverthewaterlookatme.Lookatme,perishingwoods,formybodywillbeshininglikethelakewaterafteryouhavebeenhurriedaway.Youandtheoldraen,andtheraceofthebeasts,andtheraceofthefish,andthewingedrace,arewearingawaylikeadlethathasbeenbur.ButIlaughoutloud,becauseIaminmyyouth.
Shedidnotebackthatnightoranynighttothe,anditwasnottilltheendoftwodaysthattheturfcuttersgoingtothebogfoundthebodyofRedOwenHanrahan,andgatheredmentowakehimandwomentokeenhim,andgavehimaburyingworthyofsogreatapoet.松语文学www.16sy.coM免费小说阅读
Hewassittinglookingintothewateroneeveninginharvesttime,thinkingofallthesecretsthatwereshutintothelakesandthemountains,whenheheardaingfromthesouth,veryfaintatfirst,butgettinglouderandclearerastheshadowoftherushesgrewloillhecouldhearthewords,Iambeautiful,Iambeautiful;thebirdsintheair,themothsuheleaves,thefliesoverthewaterlookatme,fortheyneversawanyonesobeautifulasmyself.Iamyoung;Iamyoung:lookuponme,mountains;lookuponme,perishingwoods,formybodywillshinelikethewhitewaterswhenyouhavebeenhurriedaway.Youandthewholeraen,andtheraceofthebeastsandtheraceofthefishandthewingedracearedroppinglikeadlethatisnearlybur,butIlaughoutbecauseIaminmyyouth.Thevoicewouldbreakofffromtimetotime,asiftired,awouldbeginagain,callingoutalwaysthesamewords,Iambeautiful,Iambeautiful.Presentlythebushesattheedgeofthelittlelaketrembledforamoment,andaveryoldwomanforcedherwayamongthem,andpassedbyHanrahan,walkingwithveryslowsteps.Herfacewasofthecolourofearth,andmorewrihanthefaceofanyoldhagthatwaseverseen,andhergreyhairwashanginginwisps,andtheragsshewaswearingdidnothideherdarkskinthatwasroughenedbyallweathers.
Shepassedbyhimwithhereyeswideopen,andherheadhigh,andherarmshangingstraightbesideher,aintotheshadowofthehillstowardsthewest.
AsortofdreadcameoverHanrahanwhenhesawher,forhekobeoneWinnyByrhatwentbeggingfromplacetoplacegalwaysthesamecry,andhehadoftehatshehadoncesuchwisdomthatallthewomenoftheneighboursusedtogolookingforadviher,andthatshehadavoicesobeautifulthatmenandwomenwouldefromeveryparttohearhersingatawakeorawedding;andthattheOthers,thegreatSidhe,hadstolesoneSamhainnightmanyyearsago,whenshehadfallenasleepontheedgeofarath,andhadseeninherdreamstheservantsofEchtgeofthehills.
Andasshevanishedathehillside,itseemedasifhercry,Iambeautiful,Iambeautiful,wasingfromamoarsintheheavens.
Therewasacoldwindcreepingamongtherushes,andHanrahaoshiver,andheroseuptogotosomehousewheretherewouldbeafireonthehearth.Butinsteaddownthehillashewasused,hewentonupthehill,aloletrackthatwasmaybearoadandmaybethedrybedofastream.ItwasthesamewayWinnyhadgone,anditledtothelittlewhereshestoppedwheoppedinanyplaceatall.Hewalkedveryslowlyupthehillasifhehadagreatloadonhisbadatlasthesawalightalittletotheleft,ahoughtitlikelyitwasfromWinnyshouseitwasshining,aurnedfromthepathtogotoit.Butcloudshadeoverthesky,andhecouldnotwellseehisway,andafterhehadgoepshisfootslippedandhefellintoabogdrain,andthoughhedraggedhimselfoutofit,holdingontotherootsoftheheather,thefallhadgivenhimagreatshake,abetterfittoliedownthantogotravelling.Buthehadalwaysgreatce,andhemadehiswayon,stepbystep,tillatlasthecametoWinnys,thathadnowindow,butthelightwasshiningfromthedoor.Hethoughttogointoitandtorestforawhile,butwhenhecametothedoorhedidnotseeWinnyi,butwhathesawwasfrey?hairedwomenplayingcards,butWinnyherselfwasnotamongthem.Hanrahansatdoofturfbesidethedoor,forhewastiredoutandout,andhadnowishfortalkingorforcard?playing,andhisbonesandhisjointsagthewaytheywere.Hecouldhearthefourwomentalkingastheyplayed,andcallingouttheirhands.Anditseemedtohimthattheyweresaying,likethestrangemaninthebarnlongago:SpadesandDiamonds,CeandPower.Clubsas,KnowledgeandPleasure.Aonsayingthosewordsoveraohimself;aherornothewasinhisdreams,thepainthatwasinhisshoulderneverlefthim.
Andafterawhilethefourwomeninthebegantoquarrel,andeaetosaytheotherhadnotplayedfair,andtheirvoicesgrewfromloudtolouder,andtheirscreamsandtheircurses,tillatlastthewholeairwasfilledwiththehemaroundandabovethehouse,andHanrahan,hearingitbetweensleepandwaking,said:Thatisthesoundofthefightiweenthefriendsandtheill?wishersofamanthatisnearhisdeath.
AndIwonder,hesaid,whoisthemaninthislonelyplacethatisnearhisdeath.
Itseemedasifhehadbeenasleepalongtime,andheopenedhiseyes,andthefacehesawoverhimwastheoldwrinkledfaceofWinnyoftheCrossRoad.Shewaslookinghardathim,asiftomakesurehewasnotdead,andshewipedawaythebloodthathadgrowndryonhisfacewithawetcloth,andafterawhileshepartlyhelpedhimandpartlyliftedhimintothe,andlaidhimdownonwhatservedherforabed.Shegavehimacoupleofpotatoesfromapotonthefire,and,whatservedhimbetter,amugwater.Hesleptalittlenowandagain,andsometimesheheardhersingingtoherselfasshemovedaboutthehouse,andsothenightworeaway.Whentheskybeganthtenwiththedawforthebag;wherehislittlestoreofmoneywas,aouttoher,aookoutabitofcopperandabitofsilvermoney,butsheletitdropagainasifitwasnothingtoher,maybebecauseitwasnotmoneyshewasusedtobegfor,butfoodandrags;ormaybebecausetherisingofthedawnwasfillihprideandanewbeliefinherowbeauty.Shewentoutandcutafewarmfulsofheather,andbroughtitinandheapeditoverHanrahan,sayingsomethingaboutthecoldofthem,andwhileshedidthathetooknoticeofthewrinklesinherfadthegreynessofherhair,andthebrokehatwerebladfullofgaps.Andwhenhewaswellcoveredwiththeheathershewentoutofthedoorandawaydownthesideofthemountain,andhecouldhearhercry,Iambeautiful,Iambeautiful,gettinglessandlessasshewent,tillatlastitdiedawayaltogether.
Hanrahanlaytherethroughthelengthoftheday,inhispainsandhisweakness,aheshadowsoftheeveningwerefallingheheardhervoiceagainingupthehillside,andshecameinandboiledthepotatoesandsharedthemwithhimthesamewayasbefore.Andonedayafteranotherpassedlikethat,andtheweightofhisfleshwasheavyabouthim.Butlittlebylittleashegrewweakerhekhereweresomegreaterthanhimselfintheroomwithhim,andthatthehousebegantobefilledwiththem;anditseemedtohimtheyhadallpowerintheirhands,andthattheymightwithoouchofthehandbreakdownthewallthehardnessofpainhadbuiltabouthim,andtakehimintotheirownworld.Andsometimeshecouldhearvoices,veryfaintandjoyful,gfromtheraftersoroutoftheflameonthehearth,andothertimesthewholehousewasfilledwithmusicthatwentthroughitlikeawind.Andafterawhilehisweaknessleftnoplaceforpain,andtheregrewupabouthimagreatsilencelikethesileheheartofalake,andtherecamethroughitliketheflameofarushlightthefaintjoyfulvoiceseverandalways.
Onemheheardmusiewhereoutsidethedoor,andasthedaypasseditgrewlouderandlouderuntilitdrowhefaintjoyfulvoices,andevenWinnyscryuponthehillsideatthefallofevening.Aboutmidnightandinamoment,thewallsseemedtomeltawayandtoleavehisbedfloatingonapalemistylightthatshoneoneverysideasfarastheeyecouldsee;andafterthefirstblindingofhiseyeshesawthatitwasfullofgreatshadowyfiguresrushinghereandthere.
Atthesametimethemusiccameveryclearlytohim,andhekhatitwasbutthetinualclashingofswords.
Iamaftermydeath,hesaid,andintheveryheartofthemusicofHeaven.OCheruhimandSeraphim,receivemysoul!
Athiscrythelightwhereitwasohimfilledwithsparksofyetbrighterlight,ahatthesewerethepointsofswordsturowardshisheart;andthenasuddenflame,brightandburninglikeGodslodshate,sweptoverthelightaoutandhewasindarkness.Atfirsthecouldseenothing,forallwasasdarkasiftherewasblackbogearthabouthim,butallofasuddenthefireblazedupasifawispofstrawhadbeenthrownuponit.Andashelookedatit,thelightwasshiningonthebigpotthatwashangingfromahook,andostonewhereWinobakeaowandagain,andonthelongrustyknifesheusedtobecuttisoftheheatherwith,andonthelongblackthornstickhehadbroughtintothehousehimself.Andwhehosefourthings,somememorycameintoHanrahansmind,andstrengthcameba,andherosesittingupinthebed,andhesaidveryloudaheCauldrooheSword,theSpear.Whatarethey?Whodotheybelongto?AndIhaveaskedthequestionthistime,hesaid.
Andthenhefellbackagain,weak,andthebreathgoingfromhim.
WinnyByrhathadbeentendingthefire,cameoverthen,havinghereyesfixedonthebed;andthefaintlaughingvoicesbegangoutagain,andapalelight,greylikeawave,camecreepiheroom,andhedidnotknowfromwhatsecretworlditcame.HesawWinnyswitheredfadherwitheredarmsthatweregreylikecrumbledearth,andweakashewasheshrankbackfarthertowardsthewall.Aherecameoutofthemud?stiffenedragsarmsaswhiteandasshadowyasthefoamonariver,andtheywereputabouthisbody,andavoicethathecouldhearwellbutthatseemedtoefromalongwayoffsaidtohiminawhisper:Youwillgolookingformenomoreuponthebreastsofwomen.
Whoareyou?hesaidthen.
Iamohelastingpeople,ofthelastingunweariedVoices,thatmakemydwellinginthebrokenandthedying,andthosethathavelosttheirwits;andIcamelookingforyou,andyouaremiilthewholeworldisburlikeadlethatisspent.Andlookupnow,shesaid,forthewispsthatareforourweddingarelighted.
Hesawthenthatthehousewascrowdedwithpaleshadowyhands,andthateveryhandwasholdingwhatwassometimeslikeawisplightedforamarriage,andsometimeslikeatallwhitedleforthedead.
WhenthesuhemofthemorrowWinnyoftheCrossRoadsroseupfromwhereshewassittingbesidethebody,andbeganherbeggingfromtownlandtotownland,singingthesamesongasshewalked,Iambeautiful,Iambeautiful.Thebirdsintheair,themothsuheleaves,thefliesoverthewaterlookatme.Lookatme,perishingwoods,formybodywillbeshininglikethelakewaterafteryouhavebeenhurriedaway.Youandtheoldraen,andtheraceofthebeasts,andtheraceofthefish,andthewingedrace,arewearingawaylikeadlethathasbeenbur.ButIlaughoutloud,becauseIaminmyyouth.
Shedidnotebackthatnightoranynighttothe,anditwasnottilltheendoftwodaysthattheturfcuttersgoingtothebogfoundthebodyofRedOwenHanrahan,andgatheredmentowakehimandwomentokeenhim,andgavehimaburyingworthyofsogreatapoet.松语文学www.16sy.coM免费小说阅读
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声明：本站所收录之:Stories of Red Hanrahan- THE DEATH OF HANRAHAN、言情小说、玄幻、网游小说、及短篇作品、均为本站作者及网友上传。
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并不代表本站立场!本站亦无法严格审:Stories of Red Hanrahan最新章节其版权归属。如您对Stories of Red HanrahanTXT下载持有版权方面的异议，请联系本站客服。我们将于72小时内处理。
Copyright (C) 2019 All Rights Reserved 版权所有：松语文学