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chater elve the een f undernd（第2页）

“No.Isupposethatotherworldmustbealladrea”

“Yes.Itisalladream，”saidtheWitch，alwaysthrumming.

“Yes，alladream，”saidJill.

“Thereneverwassuchaworld，”saidtheWitch.

“No，”saidJillandScrubb，“neverwassuchaworld.”

“Thereneverwasanyworldbutmine，”saidtheWitch.

“Thereneverwasanyworldbutyours，”saidthey.

Puddleglumwasstillfightinghard.“Idon’tknowrightlywhatyouallmeanbyaworld，”hesaid，talkinglikeamanwhohasn’tenoughair.“Butyoucanplaythatfiddletillyourfingersdropoff，andstillyouwon’tmakemeforgetNarnia；andthewholeOverworldtoo.We’llneverseeitagain，Ishouldn’twonder.Youmayhaveblotteditoutandturneditdarklikethis，forallIknow.Nothingmorelikely.ButIknowIwasthereonce.I’veseentheskyfullofstars.I’veseenthesuncomingupoutoftheseaofamorningandsinkingbehindthemountainsatnight.AndI’veseenhimupinthemiddayskywhenIcouldn’tlookathimforbrightness.”

Puddleglum’swordshadaveryrousingeffect.Theotherthreeallbreathedagainandlookedatoneanotherlikepeoplenewlyawaked.

“Why，thereitis！”criedthePrince.“Ofcourse！TheblessingofAslanuponthishonestMarsh-wiggle.Wehaveallbeendreaming，theselastfewminutes.Howcouldwehaveforgottenit？Ofcoursewe’veallseenthesun.”

“ByJove，sowehave！”saidScrubb.“Goodforyou，Puddleglum！You’retheonlyoneofuswithanysense，Idobelieve.”

ThencametheWitch’svoice，cooingsoftlylikethevoiceofawood-pigeonfromthehighelmsinanoldgardenatthreeo’clockinthemiddleofasleepy，summerafternoon；anditsaid：

“Whatisthissunthatyouallspeakof？Doyoumeananythingbytheword？”

“Yes，wejollywelldo，”saidScrubb.

“Canyoutellmewhatit’slike？”askedtheWitch（thrum，thrum，thrum，wentthestrings）.

“PleaseityourGrace，”saidthePrince，verycoldlyandpolitely.“Youseethatlamp.Itisroundandyellowandgiveslighttothewholeroom；andhangethmoreoverfromtheroof.Nowthatthingwhichwecallthesunislikethelamp，onlyfargreaterandbrighter.ItgivethlighttothewholeOverworldandhangethinthesky.”

“Hangethfromwhat，mylord？”askedtheWitch；andthen，whiletheywereallstillthinkinghowtoanswerher，sheadded，withanotherofhersoft，silverlaughs：“Yousee？Whenyoutrytothinkoutclearlywhatthissunmustbe，youcannottellme.Youcanonlytellmeitislikethelamp.Yoursunisadream；andthereisnothinginthatdreamthatwasnotcopiedfromthelamp.Thelampistherealthing；thesunisbutatale，achildren’sstory.”

“Yes，Iseenow，”saidJillinaheavy，hopelesstone.“Itmustbeso.”Andwhileshesaidthis，itseemedtohertobeverygoodsense.

SlowlyandgravelytheWitchrepeated，“Thereisnosun.”Andtheyallsaidnothing.Sherepeated，inasofteranddeepervoice.“Thereisnosun.”Afterapause，andafterastruggleintheirminds，allfourofthemsaidtogether.“Youareright.Thereisnosun.”Itwassucharelieftogiveinandsayit.

“Thereneverwasasun，”saidtheWitch.

“No.Thereneverwasasun，”saidthePrince，andtheMarsh-wiggle，andthechildren.

ForthelastfewminutesJillhadbeenfeelingthattherewassomethingshemustrememberatallcosts.Andnowshedid.Butitwasdreadfullyhardtosayit.Shefeltasifhugeweightswerelaidonherlips.Atlast，withaneffortthatseemedtotakeallthegoodoutofher，shesaid：

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