CHAPTER TWELVE THE QUEEN OF UNDERLAND（第2/4页）

“We’ve been there，too,”snapped Jill. She was very angry because she could feel enchantment getting hold of her every moment. But of course the very fact that she could still feel it， showed that it had not yet fully worked.

“And thou art Queen of Narnia too，I doubt not，pretty one,”said the Witch in the same coaxing，half-mocking tone.

“I’m nothing of the sort,”said Jill，stamping her foot. “We come from another world.”

“Why，this is a prettier game than the other,”said the Witch. “Tell us，little maid，where is this other world ？ What ships and chariots go between it and ours ？”

Of course a lot of things darted into Jill’s head at once： Experiment House，Adela Pennyfather，her own home，radio-sets，cinemas，cars，aeroplanes，ration-books，queues. But they seemed dim and far away. （Thrum—thrum—thrum—went the strings of the Witch’s instrument.）Jill couldn’t remember the names of the things in our world. And this time it didn’t come into her head that she was being enchanted，for now the magic was in its full strength；and of course，the more enchanted you get，the more certain you feel that you are not enchanted at all. She found herself saying（and at the moment it was a relief to say）：

“No. I suppose that other world must be all a dream.”

“Yes. It is all a dream,”said the Witch，always thrumming.

“Yes，all a dream,”said Jill.

“There never was such a world,”said the Witch.

“No,”said Jill and Scrubb，“never was such a world.”

“There never was any world but mine,”said the Witch.

“There never was any world but yours,”said they.

Puddleglum was still fighting hard. “I don’t know rightly what you all mean by a world,”he said，talking like a man who hasn’t enough air. “But you can play that fiddle till your fingers drop off，and still you won’t make me forget Narnia；and the whole Overworld too. We’ll never see it again，I shouldn’t wonder. You may have blotted it out and turned it dark like this，for all I know. Nothing more likely. But I know I was there once. I’ve seen the sky full of stars. I’ve seen the sun coming up out of the sea of a morning and sinking behind the mountains at night. And I’ve seen him up in the midday sky when I couldn’t look at him for brightness.”

Puddleglum’s words had a very rousing effect. The other three all breathed again and looked at one another like people newly awaked.

“Why，there it is ！”cried the Prince. “Of course ！The blessing of Aslan upon this honest Marsh-wiggle. We have all been dreaming，these last few minutes. How could we have forgotten it ？ Of course we’ve all seen the sun.”

“By Jove，so we have ！”said Scrubb. “Good for you， Puddleglum ！You’re the only one of us with any sense，I do believe.”

Then came the Witch’s voice，cooing softly like the voice of a wood-pigeon from the high elms in an old garden at three o’clock in the middle of a sleepy，summer afternoon；and it said：

“What is this sun that you all speak of ？ Do you mean anything by the word ？”

“Yes，we jolly well do,”said Scrubb.

“Can you tell me what it’s like ？”asked the Witch（thrum， thrum，thrum，went the strings）.

“Please it your Grace,”said the Prince，very coldly and politely. “You see that lamp. It is round and yellow and gives light to the whole room；and hangeth moreover from the roof. Now that thing which we call the sun is like the lamp，only far greater and brighter. It giveth light to the whole Overworld and hangeth in the sky.”

“Hangeth from what，my lord ？”asked the Witch；and then，while they were all still thinking how to answer her，she added， with another of her soft，silver laughs：“You see ？ When you try to think out clearly what this sun must be，you cannot tell me. You can only tell me it is like the lamp. Your sun is a dream；and there is nothing in that dream that was not copied from the lamp. The lamp is the real thing；the sun is but a tale，a children’s story.”

“Yes，I see now,”said Jill in a heavy，hopeless tone. “It must be so.”And while she said this，it seemed to her to be very good sense.

Slowly and gravely the Witch repeated，“There is no sun.”And they all said nothing. She repeated，in a softer and deeper voice. “There is no sun.”After a pause，and after a struggle in their minds，all four of them said together. “You are right. There is no sun.”It was such a relief to give in and say it.

“There never was a sun,”said the Witch.

“No. There never was a sun,”said the Prince，and the Marsh-wiggle，and the children.

For the last few minutes Jill had been feeling that there was something she must remember at all costs. And now she did. But it was dreadfully hard to say it. She felt as if huge weights were laid on her lips. At last，with an effort that seemed to take all the good out of her，she said：