Gulliver's Fifth & Sixth Voyages 1732 Studios

Hungarian · Capillária

Tizedik fejezet

Chapter Ten

110 sentences

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  1. 1

    The Author, in a momentary derangement of mind, makes Opula a declaration of love.

    Szerzőthe Authorszerző · noun, nominative, singularsubject of tesz

    Surfaces mix capitalized 'Szerző' (used as the chapter-argument character label, rendered 'The Author') and lowercase 'szerző' (generic noun, rendered lowercase 'the author' — see cap-front-matter-s75: 'A szerző mentegetőzik' -> 'The author excuses himself,' not 'The Author'). The original note wrongly forced 'the Author' for both.

    pillanatnyimomentarypillanatnyi · adjective, nominative, singulardepends on elmezavarban
    elmezavarbanin a derangement of mindelmezavarban · noun, inessive, singularoblique complement of tesz
    szerelmiof loveszerelmi · adjective, nominative, singulardepends on vallomást
    vallomástdeclarationvallomás · noun, accusative, singulardirect object of tesz
    teszmakestesz · verb, present, indicative, indefinite, third-person, singularmain verb of the sentence
    Opulánakto OpulaOpula · proper noun, dative, singularoblique complement of tesz
  2. 2

    His true origin comes to light.

  3. 3

    He is sentenced to forced labor.

  4. 4

    The waters flickered about us; far off, the mercury-lake shone red.

  5. 5

    Above my head fish went thrashing, monsters of the underworld: a dreadful head broke the surface, with green eyes, and tentacles, and clutching outgrowths.

  6. 6

    A little further off a shapeless black mass lay dark upon the water: the wreck of a sunken ship — out of her funnel a giant serpent was even then coiling, green, like smoke.

  7. 7

    The wreck swarmed and stirred with life: her deck, her masts, her whole interior were overrun with bulloks, who labored upon her, took her apart and put her together again, searched her greedily, examined and studied her.

  8. 8

    Now I knew that it was they who, when I had sunk to the sea's floor in a swoon, and perhaps already at the point of death, had gathered about me and saved my life: they had fitted me with an artificial gill, by whose aid even a mammal bound to but a single element might live beneath the water — this instrument, the artificial lung for underwater use, they had discovered long since, even as we, up above, discovered the flying-machine and the steamship.

  9. 9

    And they left me there before I could come to myself, hastening off after some new task.

  10. 10

    It was they who had saved me, they who had entered into solidarity with me, these small monsters — these laborers and seekers and inventors and discoverers and soldiers and sufferers, whose every endeavor is spurred and kindled by one single, obscure longing: to reach us, out upon the dry land, that they might unite with us in the fever of our common, great labor.

  11. 11

    Beside my two ears the artificial gills began to hum, and my head rang, and I felt an insufferable pressure; all at once there came into my mind the dreadful column of water bearing down upon my head, quietly and without end, and I believed that I should suffocate that instant.

  12. 12

    I flung wide my arms, and a wailing, howling lament broke from my breast.

  13. 13

    Whereupon I felt someone lay a hand upon my lips.

  14. 14

    I turned, and caught sight of Opula, who looked upon me with wonder and with pity.

  15. 15

    In that instant I fell silent.

  16. 16

    She stood upright before me, and through her mighty yet tender frame, as through a veil of mist, might be discerned the glimmer of the swaying water-plants behind her.

  17. 17

    She was so inconceivably beautiful that for a moment I felt as though I ceased to be — as though my consciousness, my self, all that I had known as my own separate life, should dissolve and vanish, to make way for this one and only reality.

  18. 18

    Her face bent down over mine, and I felt clearly, in that moment, that I desired rather to know of this face, that it existed and shone above me, than to know that I lived — that it, rather than I, had the better right to be.

  19. 19

    She blotted out the green waters above me: a happy repose came over me, and a trust, as though I looked into the Sun — into the Sun, I, its offspring and its fruit and its issue, the child of the dark and sorrowful Earth — into the Sun, which I had for so long not beheld, and which, alas, I longed to behold again.

  20. 20

    And meanwhile, even as I felt this, I did not perceive that I was speaking, that I stammered out something, tossing and struggling and full of passion, a thing that had nothing whatsoever to do with my happy, tranquil, reconciled feeling.

  21. 21

    What I said, brokenly, confusedly, senselessly, was something to this effect, or near it:

  22. 22

    "You are like no one I have ever yet beheld, Opula, queen of the deep.

  23. 23

    You are like no one, yet you are she of whom I always knew that she existed — up above, on the Earth, in a smile, in a glance — in the flowering meadow, in the fragrance of spring, beneath a mild and starry sky, in storm and in sunshine.

  24. 24

    I always knew that God was present somewhere, hiding himself; that perhaps he stood behind my back, or had that very moment flashed past me, swifter than the light.

  25. 25

    I knew too that he lay concealed, in grass and in tree — and that I should find him, if only I attended very closely.

  26. 26

    I attended as closely as ever I could, strained, with wide-open eyes — and at times I believed I had found him: I had found him in the very attending, I had found him in myself, and that I myself was he.

  27. 27

    But now I no longer know what to believe.

  28. 28

    Whether it is I who am he, or you — it may be that you are he.

  29. 29

    Suffer me to kiss your floating golden hair, the ray of the sun, or not your hair even, but your eyes, or your knee perhaps.

  30. 30

    But no — for that I should have to stoop — and I know already that stooping is not permitted.

  31. 31

    Tell me then, what I am to do — tell me, who I am.

  32. 32

    No, I do not wish to debase myself to your level — for I know that you are indifferent, and care nothing for the starry sky.

  33. 33

    You care nothing — but perhaps only because you yourself are that sky — because you have no need to rise up to it, as I must.

  34. 34

    Tell me then what I am to do: who are you, a god, or a beast?

  35. 35

    For you do not resemble me, this much only I know.

  36. 36

    I have suffered much, I have striven and fought with myself and with my own kind.

  37. 37

    Stooping is not permitted.

  38. 38

    Leaning out is not permitted: this is what is written, among us, upon the windows of the carriages.

  39. 39

    You understand, do you not.

  40. 40

    I should like to kiss you — no, rather not, I must go, I have work to do, I cannot remain here.

  41. 41

    I have work up above; here the medium is very dark and very tepid — up above they are waiting for me.

  42. 42

    I love you.

  43. 43

    I have nothing whatsoever to do with these ugly beasts — do you understand?

  44. 44

    It is not true that this was my wish, it is not true that I am one with them — oh, I know well what you proclaim without speaking a word: that beauty, goodness, and truth are one and the same thing — that nothing can be good, and nothing can be true, which is ugly — but then who is to say what is ugly, what is beautiful, if not my own soul?

  45. 45

    And the mirror in which your fair face is reflected — can it be ugly, can it be jagged and scratched, if it shows you beautiful?

  46. 46

    No — that which gives back beauty is itself beautiful — am I not, then, like you?

  47. 47

    I am not like you, for I want more than you do — I want you.

  48. 48

    Let me go, I have work to do — tell me, what am I to do?

  49. 49

    Up above some light is flickering — I must reach it — will you come with me?

  50. 50

    I shall carry you out of this place, out of the depths and out of the dimness, that you may feel what I feel, for you are worthy of it: I shall break open the lid of your coffin.

  51. 51

    I must give back to you this rapture and this delight which you have kindled in me — or have you no need of it?

  52. 52

    Enough, enough, you are calm and you wait, but I can wait no longer — oh, how wicked you are, and how good am I — oh, how foul you are, and how pure am I — I too wish to be wicked — I too wish to be defiled — I cannot wait!..."

  53. 53

    Such things I stammered; I remember well: such a foolish, filthy confusion bubbled up out of me.

  54. 54

    I wiped my mouth, and looked afterward at my hand: there was mud and matter and froth upon it.

  55. 55

    I did not dare look at Opula, for I was persuaded that she was laughing.

  56. 56

    I was terribly agitated, and waited to come to myself out of this fit of madness.

  57. 57

    But at that moment I heard a cry of astonishment — and I glanced up at her in alarm.

  58. 58

    Opula, her eyes opened wide, altogether astonished, watched me almost in fright: she stretched out one finger toward me.

  59. 59

    In confusion I looked myself over, and discovered the cause of her surprise.

  60. 60

    What am I to say to the reader?

  61. 61

    How am I to make myself understood, so that I not be thought indecent, when in truth I am not so?

  62. 62

    Well then — the spectacle which, without my knowledge, presented itself before Opula, and whose forming I myself had not perceived, in that fit of agitation wherein I had made her a declaration of unearthly love — this spectacle was sufficient to inform her that I was no oiha, not even in that degenerate form in which, in her imagination, upon the strength of my own account, the image of an earthly woman had lived.

  63. 63

    Her astonishment, great though it was, stood in just proportion to the phenomenon that had occasioned it.

  64. 64

    I too stared, faint with heat, but it was not in my power to make vanish that telltale sign, which her beauty, and my own rapture, had summoned up, with blaring plainness, out of the obscurity in which it had until then lain hid.

  65. 65

    "Bullok..." said Opula then, not taking her gaze from me... "Bullok..." she repeated, and began slowly to draw back.

  66. 66

    I would have flung myself after her, but the Bullok seemed to have taken his stand between the two of us, that now, openly, menacingly, imperiously, he might part us asunder; and he compelled me to a halt.

  67. 67

    I stood unmasked; I could no longer deny that in my essential nature I belonged to that despised race which is good for nothing more than the providing of food and the building of houses — I felt that in Opula's eyes I was lost forever, and that never again could she deem me worthy of her trust.

  68. 68

    I felt an irresistible longing to leave Capillária, and, if it were yet possible, to flee.

  69. 69

    But the object described above would not permit it.

  70. 70

    How am I to make myself properly understood by the reader?

  71. 71

    Of this object, during my sojourn in Capillária, I had entirely lost account — it must not be forgotten that I had dwelt in the water a year and a half, which rendered superfluous the particular and troublesome management of certain operations, in the manner to which we are accustomed upon dry land.

  72. 72

    Now, therefore, when it unexpectedly appeared upon the scene, and moreover in so self-possessed and consequential a shape, I had the strange sensation that this was a creature independent of myself, self-governing, which had unexpectedly, in the manner of a deus ex machina, put in its word upon the course of events.

  73. 73

    Whether it was a deception of the senses, the vision of a momentary madness, or an acknowledgment of reality, I cannot say — but it seemed to me that a mighty Bullok had seized me about the waist, a Bullok which — or whom — I had believed myself to hold in my power, and which, proving now stronger than I, showed openly and avowedly that I must go whither he led.

  74. 74

    I struggled painfully to sit myself down, or to turn some other way.

  75. 75

    In vain.

  76. 76

    The water eddied about us; panting, I rushed on, I swam and I hovered, as one whom his horse has run away with.

  77. 77

    We flashed on through among the towers — a crowd of bulloks escorted us upon our headlong course, their heads thrust forward, rigid, like so many loosed, winged arrows, shooting through the blue water.

  78. 78

    I knew that I ought to flee in precisely the opposite direction; I felt that we were rushing headlong to my ruin.

  79. 79

    At a turning there came into view that mighty building, with its winged façade, in whose gateway I had first caught sight of an oiha native, upon the day of my arrival in Capillária.

  80. 80

    Now the doorway stood empty.

  81. 81

    I rushed in through the empty doorway, overturning everything about me.

  82. 82

    A few oihas started away from me in alarm — there was no halting; the bullok bore me on.

  83. 83

    Doors slammed shut about me; I was dashed against the wall, like a propeller that has lost its steering, in every place where an oiha had vanished, and where, in the next instant, only empty boards stood bare before me.

  84. 84

    For a moment now and again Opula's frightened, startled face would appear, with some distorted smile upon her lips — whereupon the Bullok, enraged, would snatch after her afresh: he dashed against the ceiling, from which I fell back, spent.

  85. 85

    He thrashed, rose up again, began to spin with me, spun ever faster, stood me upon my head like a top, roared and clattered... and I do not know what further happened, what he did, how long this fury lasted, for the world grew black about me, and I lost consciousness.

  86. 86

    When I came to myself, my first sensation was as though I had that moment arrived in Capillária, as though I were living once more through the strange adventure of the first day.

  87. 87

    I lay upon the ground, bound fast: the spider-web of that fine golden silk, which springs from the heads of the oihas, and floats abroad in the water like a kind of mantle, had trussed me hand and foot.

  88. 88

    I attempted to raise my head, but scarcely succeeded.

  89. 89

    A few moments later, when I had given some sign of life, they raised me up, without loosing my hands or my feet, and set me down upon a low chair.

  90. 90

    Beside me, upon another chair, sat Opula, a veil upon her head — before us stood a small table, and behind the table sat an oiha of dignified bearing.

  91. 91

    This was, as I now saw before me, the Supreme Court of Capillária — Opula represented the prosecution, and it was for that reason she had been seated at my side.

  92. 92

    I know not why, but the whole scene that now followed, my condemnation, with all its grave solemnity, put me in mind of something I had once already lived through — I racked my brain, striving to think what it might have been, but it did not come to me until, having been condemned, I was already being carried out; and even in my dulled indifference it vexed me, what manner of association of ideas it could have been, that had brought together, in my brain, this very solemn proceeding with the memory of my wedding — for the whole of it, indeed, put me in mind of my wedding; I know not why.

  93. 93

    Accusation and verdict followed hard upon one another.

  94. 94

    Opula declared that I had misled her, that by some devilish art I had made her believe that in the country from which I came, I represented the oihas.

  95. 95

    Since it had, however, come to light that I was in essence a bullok — as she might, indeed, have long since suspected from the peculiar sympathy I nourished toward the bulloks — she did not deem it proper that I should live among them, and taint the air.

  96. 96

    She requested of the Law that it render a just verdict.

  97. 97

    The verdict was reached within a few minutes.

  98. 98

    In keeping with the country's peculiar, but decidedly humane, customs, it was an alternative sentence, a choice between two punishments, of which I might select whichever I wished to suffer.

  99. 99

    One was fatal; the other, not a great deal less so.

  100. 100

    The question was, which I preferred: to be slaughtered, as a bullok, upon Opula's birthday, dressed, and eaten, or else to undertake perpetual labor upon the ramparts, as a strong and serviceable bullok, among my fellows, at the building of those towers which serve the oihas for dwelling-houses — which latter sentence I should of course pass in chains, as befits a prisoner.

  101. 101

    Curiously enough, it appeared that, in the estimation of the oihas, the sentence of death was the milder of the two: while it was being read out, Opula turned toward me, and seemed to smile, graciously and encouragingly — her smile was so delicate and so tender, that for a moment I fell into the temptation of thinking that, even in death, it would be this fair mouth that would sink its teeth into me.

  102. 102

    But thereupon sober reflection got the better of me, and with reverence and humility I announced to the Court that I chose rather to undertake the perpetual forced labor.

  103. 103

    They led me across into a dark chamber, loosed my hands, and bound a long cord to my feet.

  104. 104

    This was the last time I beheld the oihas.

  105. 105

    They left me to myself, and locked the door upon me.

  106. 106

    I was alone the whole night through, among sea-spiders and crabs in the darkness.

  107. 107

    I cursed my fate, and that fatal resolve by which, after so many ill-starred undertakings, I had once more set out upon my travels: I swore that, should I ever be delivered out of this place, I would never again forsake my beloved country — and then, dead tired and in despair, I fell asleep.

  108. 108

    It appears that it must have been during this deep sleep that I was shut up in a great wooden chest, and conveyed across to among the ramparts, for it was there that I awoke in the morning.

  109. 109

    I lay upon a jutting ledge; about me bulloks labored busily.

  110. 110

    They looked upon me with curiosity and with pity, and urged me on, that I too should labor.

The particulars

The text
Utazás Faremidóba / Capillária, Frigyes Karinthy. Capillária.
Translation
Public-domain Hungarian (Karinthy, d. 1938; published 1916 and 1921). English translation © 2026 1732 Studios, LLC.
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Digital narration, directed by 1732 Studios.
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Our English translation, complete.
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Two whoopie pies and a pine. An inside joke.