termined. And afterward, I turned and
went downward into the dark.

VIII

DOWN THE MIGHTY SLOPE

Now I went downward very quiet and slow into that Darkness; and did make
but a cautious way; for now you shall know me truly wrapped about with
such a night as did seem to press upon my very soul, and such as you
shall never have seen nor felt; so that I did seem lost even from my
self, and did appear as that I went presently in unreal fashion, and did
pass onward for ever and for ever through everlasting night; so that odd
whiles I did make to walk with random, as that I stept no more upon this
earth; but did go offwards into the Void. Yet was this foolishness of
the mind set straight and proper each time that it did come about; for
lo! I did kick against an upjutting rock here, and fall upon a great and
unseen boulder there, and so was shaken very quickly to a sound
knowledge that I trode the hard and actual earth; and had no true
dealings with unreal matters.

And ever I did go downward; and by this only did I have a guide to my
way. Yet, as you shall think, through reason of the utter dark I made
scarce a mile in an hour or even two full hours; and so grew bitter by
reason of mine unableness to go forward with a proper and free stride.

But I did think me presently upon a thing that I should do to light my
path; and to this end, I did make the Diskos to spin, odd whiles, and
did look down the mighty slope, the little way that the strange
glistening of the Diskos did show, and so fixed my path into mine inward
remembering, and would go forward afresh, until that I was shaken once
more by the darkness, and would fain to look once again upon the
blessedness of light, and make me some knowledge of my way.

And, truly, the light from the Diskos did seem astonishing great, and
this to be because there was so monstrous a darkness all about me there
forever. And thereafter would I go onward again, until the pain of my
stumblings did bid me surely to have that sweet shining once more unto
my path.

And so shall you perceive my going; and sore and miserable was it unto
the heart; and like to shake the courage of the spirit; yet, in verity,
I had come through much, and did have intent to give way to no
foolishness of thought.

And you shall well believe that I did make the light not more oft than I
did surely need; for it was no properness of wisdom to use the power of
the Diskos, save for mine extremity.

Now,