 The weird circle. In this cave, by the restless sea, we are met to call from out the past stories, strange and weird. Bellkeeper, hold the bell, so all may know we are gathered again in the weird circle. Out of the past, phantoms of a world gone by speak again the immortal tale, the ancient mariners. I'm coming. Leave go my arm old man. Listen, listen to me. I have a tale. But I've not the time. All the wedding guests are there. There was a ship. I don't care, this is my cousin's wedding. There was a ship I say. Do you want money? No. Then what do you want for heaven's sake? A tale. A tale that must be told. About a ship. Some other time. Let go my arm. If it's an amusing tale, then come, tell it to all the wedding guests. Only don't keep me here. Listen, everyone is there but me. And they're calling me. There was a ship, stranger, that sailed the seas. Take your hand off me, leave me. There was a ship that wives and sweethearts cheered as it left the pier. Listen, listen stranger. There was a ship put out to sea and I must tell its tale. The crew sang, the sails swelled, foam uncurled below our keel. Listen. There was a ship cursed by a man. Cursed by none but me. I do not like your eyes old man. Yes, cursed. Cursed by none but me. They gleamed like a madman's eyes. Cursed so that all the crew died, yet rose and walked like living men and sailed the lonely sea that died. What do you mean? Who trod the deck and reefed in sails, who took the helm and walked the bridge. Yet they were dead as dead could be. Who are you? Who are you old man? Jonathan and I. Listen. Jonathan. Tomorrow you shall wake a wiser man. Listen. We left the pier in a shining day. The tide was with us. Gulls rode the sparkling air and we sailed out as gallant as a minstrel ship upon an emerald sea. Day after day our ship sailed on and the sun rose up calm and warm and in the evening sunk down into a crimson sea. Day after day, the acid and mire of the weather stayed. But soon from out the south wind and tempest tore the sea, trapping our ship with giant blasts. The mountainous waves lashed at our decks. The timbers shuddered and like wreckage we were driven north, like matchwood in the sea. And when we stopped, it was because ice had locked us in. Because around us, white and cold, lay a frozen sea. And day after day the sun rose up, hung in the sky pale and chill and then at night ghastly sea. Day after day the sun rose up, the heatless sun that could not set us free. And it was here the curse began. The curse that sprang from me. On a chill dawn when the ice shone like polished bone the sun hung fixed and blind. On a dawn when in the frozen silence of the air I heard the ship's bell tinkle and the mate, Mr. Springer, calling me. Jonathan! Jonathan! Coming, Mr. Springer. Better not run. Those decks are slippery. It's all right, sir. Take the bridge watch, Jonathan. Larson's down with frostbite. Aye, aye, sir. Although what else besides ice you're expected to see is beyond me. Perhaps a bit of meat, Mr. Springer. A bear. He'd be a fool to be caught in this waste. Will we ever get away from this ice? Fresh meat would be a godsend. Aye, so would freedom. You realize, Jonathan, it's spring in Massachusetts now. You could walk about without mittens and you could sit in the sun. Curse the wind that brought us here to be trapped like a fly in a block of ice. My brother's son, young Samuel, the one who's with us. He's Massachusetts-born too, Mr. Springer. Well, then there are two fools who left home for this. Master Ahoy! Aye, aye, sir. Still see! Ice! Nothing but ice! He could climb three times the height of the mast and still see only ice. Oh, and this wind. My bones clatter in it. Who's that standing after the rail, Jonathan? Don't they feel the cold? Young Samuel, my brother's son, I was speaking of. And Benson, the carpenter. Then Samuel's getting a sermon, I warrant. The carpenter thumps a good pulpit. He is without... The mast head what? Why, the deeps, does he see something? Mr. Ahoy! Ahoy! What do you see? Something flying! Flying? Where or what? Do you see anything, Jonathan? Off-stabbered? Something that flies? No. I... Yes! There! Mr. Springer, there! What? Well, what do you know? A bird! A bird in this waste! An albatross! Look at the spread of his wings! Aye, look at them. And for a moment I was hoping it was an angel. You see, the carpenter's passed the word along to the crew. The bird will have an unexpected welcoming committee. It's an albatross, Mr. Springer! I see it, Samuel. It's a sign, Mr. Springer. It's a sign! What is it, carpenter? A sign! Out of the waste and the nothingness, God sent us a sign! Carpenter, this is no pulpit. I tell you, he has not forsaken us! Man, it's a sign! Well, carpenter, you know I'm a believer myself. But this... it's an albatross. Not a sign. Believe me, it is! Good heaven! The ice is breaking! The ice is breaking up! I told you, it was a sign! Aye, and it was true. The ice split wide, great slabs of it reared up and with a grinding crash toppled and fell in a thousand fragments. The frozen seas shattered. And there, there below, it last, gleamed the sea. And a wind sprang up and caught and swelled our sails and the ship, the ship that had been locked and trapped, rode free. And all the time about the ship, the albatross winged and soared, filling the air with gladsome cries like a bringer of glad tidings that soared and sang. Day after day, the wind came up and the ship plunged on until once more. We rode in warmer seas and the bird was with us all the time. Aye, it was a sign. A sign I could not read except that it was flesh and blood and it was near to me. Uncle! Uncle Jonathan! Don't you hear me? Huh? Oh, Samuel. I've been calling you from Aft. I didn't hear. I know. You've been standing here by the rail just staring out at the sea. And at the bird. Albatross? It is a beautiful sight. But the way it flies so graceful and easy like an angel. It was a sign, Uncle, just like the carpenter said. But didn't the ice crack when it came? I know the ice cracked. I don't know about a sign. And the bird itself, it's so different. What do you mean? Well, it's not afraid of men. It's more like a friend. I know because I fed it. Really? Yes. It comes down at noon on the forward hatch and I've been feeding it by hand. It comes down? It's almost noon now, Uncle. Wait and see. And where are you going? Below. But don't you want to see? I'm going below. Stranger, listen. Listen, all I wanted was what others had done for which others had not been damned. I went below to get my gun. I came back on deck. The wind had risen. The sun and the pure blue sky. Then I saw the bird. The great bird turning, circling slowly in the flawless air. The circles growing smaller as it descended with sweet and joyous cries. Upon the hatch it settled and stood there noble, wrapped in the sheer virgin whiteness of its wings, the godly bird of beauty. And I saw Samuel smiling, beckoning to it and calmly, with graceful steps, the bird came near. Oh, Lord. Lord, how shall I be forgiven? I saw it all. The white bird and Samuel between the sights of my gun and I pulled a trigger and fired. I killed the Albatross. Uncle! Uncle, you killed the bird! God sign you killed. God sign! And it harmed you, Jonathan. It made the wind to blow. And it harmed you. Was it your enemy, Jonathan? Why did you do it? Why did you kill the birds? Face me and tell me why. Their words and voices crowded me. I heard them on all sides. Killer! Then all at once. Their words were still. And in the silence they leaped a fear. The wind, Uncle. The wind has died. Died. The wind had fled from us. Fixed in a voiceless sea. His idol is a painted ship upon a painted ocean. And day after day a sun rose up, white and blinding at arched the sky. And all, all turned their faces and cursed at me. For I had killed the bird that brought the breeze. I had done the blasphemous thing. Curse him. Curse the devil that killed the bird. For by his deed we are all dying, suffering too, Carpenter. Jonathan! You murderer! Jonathan! You called me? It's you, the devil. Strike him, God. He murdered his fellows. Oh, wait, Jonathan. Mates! Mates! Don't let him escape. Mark him out so that he'll be known on Judgement Day. Brand him! Single him out so that punishment won't fail to find him. Mates, listen to me. Come on, here, come on. Get below. Let him be marked as Kenning was marked. Brand him! There, there, there. Bring the albatross. The albatross. Here it is. Tie it about his throat. Tie it. Let him bear the full burden of his deed. No, no. Now shall the Lord find him swiftly, unnervingly marked and brand as he is. Is it tight, well? Lie like a gallows' rope. Bend to the wrath of God we commend him. At his ship there was, out of the west, rushing tortoise with its sails, swollen with wind. But the wind that blew was not for us. It was clear we watched a phantom vessel, for her hull was ribbed like a skeleton, and her sails were white as shrouds. The moon grinned through her. Stars glinted through her sides. But on the bridge her captains stood. We saw him and we screamed, for he wore the bleach, white face of death. And as he neared he laughed and cried, The game is done. I've won, I've won. And swift as light his ship sped by and disappeared from sight. King death sped by, but his laughter still was with us. And then I heard the sigh. I spun around. The albatross still on my throat. And saw the ones who tied it there. It fallen where they stood. Stranger, stranger, none were alive. None but the carpenter and I. They died. And there were only us alone. Alone on the wide, wide sea. The carpenter and I. Who still left alive? Why did we not, like all the rest, slump to the deck? What fate was ours? Wild eyed with thirst, surrounded by our brother dead. What destiny was ours? With swollen tongues and crazy dreams, up and down the decks we crawled. And I could see in the carpenter's eyes his burning hate of me. Day after day the ship stood still. No wind blew up, no wisp of wind. And motionless as stone we lay upon a lifeless sea, in which all sort of crawling things did live far happier than me. Who did not hear the things I heard, nor dream the things I did. How happy were those slimy things, the things that crawled, the fish that swam, the fish that bore no guilt like me. Look at the carpenter, the dwellers in the sea, the flashing phosphorescent fire. How joyous are his things, the miracle of living things, of God's creation, those secure in his understanding. How blessed are the happy, those in the warmth and brightness of his reign. Blessed are his living things, bird and beast, they that fly and they that swim. O fortunate, beloved of God. Your reign, Jonathan. Praying. Blessed be they, these crawling things. Blessed be the lowest of his creature, those dwelling in the slime. His love for them surpassed all understanding. My love for them reaches toward my God. Jonathan, the albatross. It's fallen, fallen, fallen from my throat. I'm freed. Civil gods, I'm freed. And there's a storm, Jonathan. A storm's breaking. And it's raining carpenter. And I swoon. How long I lay there, I do not know. And when I heard the voices, I do not know whether I was awake or dreaming, but I heard them sweet and gentle reaching me through the pattern of the rain. This is the man, brother. He shot the work of him who makes all things to grow. And he has penance done. Then he is freed. No. All penance will he do from dawn to night, from day to day. Penance will he do. And I awoke. My body wet with rain and low the sails were filled with breeze and wind and swift insure the ship raced on. I saw the carpenter standing near. I did not notice what he saw. I only blessed the rain and wind. What is it, carpenter? You're staring. Is something wrong? Listen. Listen. Carpenter! The bell. The ship's bell. Who's ringing it, carpenter? Who's ringing it? The dead, Jonathan. The dead are ringing the bell. And then I looked and screamed. For there, there on the bridge, walked Mr. Springer the mate and at the helm stood Larson. And both stared where the corpses stare at the ocean they could not see. But they were dead. Dead! And yet they sailed the sea. And it was then I heard the whisper and I saw a phantom crew. The moon whitened their faces as white as snow and their dead limbs were moving, moving, hauling on rope, climbing the shrouds. Our ship was sailed by a dead man crew. It can't be! It can't! They're dead. Dead is a ten-day dweller in a tomb. But they walk! They work! They rose like Lazarus with the last lightning crash. They rose silent to shadows and took their places. It's judgment, judgment day! Yes, Samuel, my brother's son. Samuel, Samuel! It's I, Jonathan. Your uncle speaks to me. Mr. Springer! Larson! Samuel! It's I, Jonathan. Say you forgive me. Now, now I understand the voices in the dream. What dream? As I slept, I heard them. Penance have I done, he said, and penance more will do. Guilt! Guilt like a disease will fester in me until the end of my days. Which shall be soon. Soon. Where are you going? To get my tools. I'm a carpenter and it is time to build my own ship. A ship that shall be the length of me and the width of me. A ship that'll snugly fit the harbor we are bound for. The harbor, carpenter. The grave. Did you hear, carpenter? Land! Land! Do you see it? There! It's looming up like... Like what, Jonathan? Death's kingdom? No. No. Look. The lighthouse on the point. They signal the way into that kingdom and the shoreline of the bay and the hills. The harbor! Carpenter! It's home! Home! Oh! This is our own harbor, carpenter. We've been brought back out of the mouth of hell to our own home. If it's true. It is. There's the pilot spot putting out. I can see the pilot. He'll strive as carpenter. He'll welcome us with a blessing. He'll... What is it, carpenter? Look at them. Look at them. I did. I turned and looked and saw them all. Our phantom crew arrayed upon the bridges if they were a singing choir as if a band of seraphim for above each one had glowed a light, a holy light, as if seraphim they were. The light was pure, mild with grace and each one had his head up raised as if to praise his God. Hymns I did not hear yet. I was filled with peace as if hymns they'd really sung. Oh wedding guest, it was a vision of joy but it was then the sound rumbled across the bay. It's judgment! Judgment! Jennifer! And then it was as if the universe was shattered by the sound the heavens burst with sound and the ship sunk down like lead. How long I was plung about in the sea, how long I swam I do not know. I knew death was swimming at my side and when my strength was down as down I sank I felt a hand seize mine. It pulled me up, it grasped me tight and I saw the carpenter. His eyes were glowing with a passionate light as if another vision he'd seen. He smiled and it was like our Lord's smile. For a moment he held me in his arms and then he spoke and his voice was deep and strong. This is what I was saved for, Jonathan. Now I know I have already drowned but I am sent back to give you back to the living world to tell your tale to living men for God loves all things great and small. He loves both man and bird and beast. And with strong and powerful strokes he drew me toward the pilot's boat. A sourceless light lit up our way and his face glowed in the fire and when we reached the boat he lifted me and pushed me in. I saw the pilot's look go white with fear and the reverend sees his cross and as I lay there the carpenter flung up his arms and cried It's done! Then he sunk down into the sea and I was saved, saved though still upon the sea. Father Good Father Shrive me Shrive you of what? A sin, Father I've sinned as no man ever before Shrive me of my woe before I touch the shore I must be cleansed before I touch the shore. The devil preached will you, Father? Give me forgiveness by a mortal man my soul hungers for their gentle words Give evidence that like the lowest thing I do and love Shrive me, Father Shrive me What kind of sin was done? Listen, Father Listen There at a hundred yards from shore I told my tale and I was eased of my woe and when I was through the good reverend blessed me and I wept to hear the gentle forgiveness of a mortal man O wedding guest when I touched the shore love for all things great and small burned in my soul for all God's works no matter where or how they dwell and now I travel through the world and this is my penance when I see the face I know the man must hear my tale to him my tale I teach I see wedding guests burst from the hall I hear them calling you Farewell, farewell and yet before I go listen this I've learned in the agony of my woe he prayeth best who love it best all things the Lord has made happiest and near to God is he who cherishes his works Farewell, farewell may God be at your side Nicholas, Nicholas they're calling you I hear but let me walk part of the way with you for a while let me walk at your side in the past we have brought you the story the tale of the ancient man their keeper told