<h2><SPAN name="chap13"></SPAN>XIII.<br/> The Trap of the White Sphinx</h2>
<p>“About eight or nine in the morning I came to the same seat of
yellow metal from which I had viewed the world upon the evening of my
arrival. I thought of my hasty conclusions upon that evening and could not
refrain from laughing bitterly at my confidence. Here was the same
beautiful scene, the same abundant foliage, the same splendid palaces and
magnificent ruins, the same silver river running between its fertile banks.
The gay robes of the beautiful people moved hither and thither among the
trees. Some were bathing in exactly the place where I had saved Weena, and
that suddenly gave me a keen stab of pain. And like blots upon the
landscape rose the cupolas above the ways to the Underworld. I understood
now what all the beauty of the Overworld people covered. Very pleasant was
their day, as pleasant as the day of the cattle in the field. Like the
cattle, they knew of no enemies and provided against no needs. And their
end was the same.</p>
<p>“I grieved to think how brief the dream of the human intellect had
been. It had committed suicide. It had set itself steadfastly towards
comfort and ease, a balanced society with security and permanency as its
watchword, it had attained its hopes—to come to this at last. Once,
life and property must have reached almost absolute safety. The rich had
been assured of his wealth and comfort, the toiler assured of his life and
work. No doubt in that perfect world there had been no unemployed problem,
no social question left unsolved. And a great quiet had followed.</p>
<p>“It is a law of nature we overlook, that intellectual versatility
is the compensation for change, danger, and trouble. An animal perfectly in
harmony with its environment is a perfect mechanism. Nature never appeals
to intelligence until habit and instinct are useless. There is no
intelligence where there is no change and no need of change. Only those
animals partake of intelligence that have to meet a huge variety of needs
and dangers.</p>
<p>“So, as I see it, the Upperworld man had drifted towards his
feeble prettiness, and the Underworld to mere mechanical industry. But
that perfect state had lacked one thing even for mechanical
perfection—absolute permanency. Apparently as time went on, the
feeding of an Underworld, however it was effected, had become disjointed.
Mother Necessity, who had been staved off for a few thousand years, came
back again, and she began below. The Underworld being in contact with
machinery, which, however perfect, still needs some little thought outside
habit, had probably retained perforce rather more initiative, if less of
every other human character, than the Upper. And when other meat failed
them, they turned to what old habit had hitherto forbidden. So I say I saw
it in my last view of the world of Eight Hundred and Two Thousand Seven
Hundred and One. It may be as wrong an explanation as mortal wit could
invent. It is how the thing shaped itself to me, and as that I give it to
you.</p>
<p>“After the fatigues, excitements, and terrors of the past days,
and in spite of my grief, this seat and the tranquil view and the warm
sunlight were very pleasant. I was very tired and sleepy, and soon my
theorising passed into dozing. Catching myself at that, I took my own hint,
and spreading myself out upon the turf I had a long and refreshing
sleep.</p>
<p>“I awoke a little before sunsetting. I now felt safe against being
caught napping by the Morlocks, and, stretching myself, I came on down the
hill towards the White Sphinx. I had my crowbar in one hand, and the other
hand played with the matches in my pocket.</p>
<p>“And now came a most unexpected thing. As I approached the
pedestal of the sphinx I found the bronze valves were open. They had slid
down into grooves.</p>
<p>“At that I stopped short before them, hesitating to enter.</p>
<p>“Within was a small apartment, and on a raised place in the corner
of this was the Time Machine. I had the small levers in my pocket. So here,
after all my elaborate preparations for the siege of the White Sphinx, was
a meek surrender. I threw my iron bar away, almost sorry not to use it.</p>
<p>“A sudden thought came into my head as I stooped towards the
portal. For once, at least, I grasped the mental operations of the
Morlocks. Suppressing a strong inclination to laugh, I stepped through the
bronze frame and up to the Time Machine. I was surprised to find it had
been carefully oiled and cleaned. I have suspected since that the Morlocks
had even partially taken it to pieces while trying in their dim way to
grasp its purpose.</p>
<p>“Now as I stood and examined it, finding a pleasure in the mere
touch of the contrivance, the thing I had expected happened. The bronze
panels suddenly slid up and struck the frame with a clang. I was in the
dark—trapped. So the Morlocks thought. At that I chuckled
gleefully.</p>
<p>“I could already hear their murmuring laughter as they came
towards me. Very calmly I tried to strike the match. I had only to fix on
the levers and depart then like a ghost. But I had overlooked one little
thing. The matches were of that abominable kind that light only on the
box.</p>
<p>“You may imagine how all my calm vanished. The little brutes were
close upon me. One touched me. I made a sweeping blow in the dark at them
with the levers, and began to scramble into the saddle of the machine. Then
came one hand upon me and then another. Then I had simply to fight against
their persistent fingers for my levers, and at the same time feel for the
studs over which these fitted. One, indeed, they almost got away from me.
As it slipped from my hand, I had to butt in the dark with my head—I
could hear the Morlock’s skull ring—to recover it. It was a
nearer thing than the fight in the forest, I think, this last scramble.</p>
<p>“But at last the lever was fixed and pulled over. The clinging
hands slipped from me. The darkness presently fell from my eyes. I found
myself in the same grey light and tumult I have already described.</p>
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