diff options
Diffstat (limited to '30599-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 30599-h/30599-h.htm | 20245 |
1 files changed, 20245 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/30599-h/30599-h.htm b/30599-h/30599-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..555a152 --- /dev/null +++ b/30599-h/30599-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,20245 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Collected Poems, Volume 2, by Alfred Noyes. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 90%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .tocnum {position: absolute; top: auto; right: 20%;} + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .right {text-align: right;} + + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i14 {display: block; margin-left: 7em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i16 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i18 {display: block; margin-left: 9em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i20 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i22 {display: block; margin-left: 11em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i24 {display: block; margin-left: 12em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i26 {display: block; margin-left: 13em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i28 {display: block; margin-left: 14em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i30 {display: block; margin-left: 15em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i32 {display: block; margin-left: 16em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i34 {display: block; margin-left: 17em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i36 {display: block; margin-left: 18em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i38 {display: block; margin-left: 19em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i40 {display: block; margin-left: 20em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i42 {display: block; margin-left: 21em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i44 {display: block; margin-left: 22em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i46 {display: block; margin-left: 23em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Collected Poems, by Alfred Noyes + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Collected Poems + Volume Two (of 2) + +Author: Alfred Noyes + +Release Date: December 4, 2009 [EBook #30599] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLLECTED POEMS *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Josephine Paolucci and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<h1>COLLECTED POEMS</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>ALFRED NOYES</h2> + +<h3>VOLUME TWO</h3> + +<p class="center"> +NEW YORK<br /> +FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY<br /> +PUBLISHERS<br /> +<br /> +COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY<br /> +FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY<br /> +<br /> +COPYRIGHT, 1906, 1907, 1908, BY<br /> +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br /> +<br /> +COPYRIGHT, 1909, 1910, 1911, BY<br /> +FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY<br /> +<br /> +COPYRIGHT, 1906, 1909, BY<br /> +ALFRED NOYES<br /> +</p> + +<p><i>All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign +languages, including the Scandinavian. All dramatic and acting rights, +both professional and amateur, are reserved. Application for the right +of performing should be made to the publishers.</i></p> + +<p class="right"><i>October, 1913</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<p> +<span class="tocnum"><span class="smcap">Page</span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mist in the Valley</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Song of the Plough</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_4'>4</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Banner</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_6'>6</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Rank and File</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_6'>6</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Sky-Lark Caged</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_11'>11</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Lovers' Flight</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_13'>13</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Rock Pool</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_16'>16</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Island Hawk</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_20'>20</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Admiral's Ghost</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_26'>26</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Edinburgh</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_29'>29</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">In a Railway Carriage</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_30'>30</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">An East-End Coffee-Stall</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_32'>32</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Red of the Dawn</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_33'>33</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Dream-Child's Invitation</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_35'>35</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Tramp Transfigured</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_37'>37</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">On the Downs</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_50'>50</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">A May-Day Carol</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_52'>52</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Call of the Spring</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_53'>53</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Devonshire Ditty</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_55'>55</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Bacchus and the Pirates</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_56'>56</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Newspaper Boy</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_64'>64</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Two Worlds</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_66'>66</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gorse</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_68'>68</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">For the Eightieth Birthday of George Meredith</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_69'>69</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">In Memory of Swinburne</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_70'>70</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">On the Death of Francis Thompson</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_72'>72</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">In Memory of Meredith</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_74'>74</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Testimony of Art</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_76'>76</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Scholars</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_76'>76</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Resurrection</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_77'>77</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Japanese Love-Song</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_78'>78</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Two Painters</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_79'>79</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Enchanted Island</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_88'>88</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span><span class="smcap">Unity</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_92'>92</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Hill-Flower</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_93'>93</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Actæon</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_95'>95</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Lucifer's Feast</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_101'>101</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Veterans</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_107'>107</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Quest Renewed</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_108'>108</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Lights of Home</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_109'>109</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">'Tween the Lights</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_110'>110</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Creation</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_113'>113</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Peacemaker</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_115'>115</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Sailor-King</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_117'>117</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Fiddler's Farewell</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_118'>118</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">To a Pessimist</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_119'>119</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mount Ida</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_120'>120</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Electric Tram</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_127'>127</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Sherwood</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_128'>128</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Tales of the Mermaid Tavern</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I <span class="smcap">A Knight of the Ocean-Sea</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_274'>274</a></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">II <span class="smcap">A Coiner of Angels</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_285'>285</a></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">III <span class="smcap">Black Bill's Honey-moon</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_303'>303</a></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">IV <span class="smcap">The Sign of the Golden Shoe</span><span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_322'>322</a></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">V <span class="smcap">The Companion of a Mile</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_340'>340</a></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">VI <span class="smcap">Big Ben</span><span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_351'>351</a></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">VII <span class="smcap">The Burial of a Queen</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_361'>361</a></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">VIII <span class="smcap">Flos Mercatorum</span><span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_386'>386</a></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">IX <span class="smcap">Raleigh</span><span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_411'>411</a></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Watchword of the Fleet</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_434'>434</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">New Wars for Old</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_435'>435</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Prayer for Peace</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_436'>436</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Sword of England</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_438'>438</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Dawn of Peace</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_438'>438</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Bringers of Good News</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_440'>440</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Lonely Shrine</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_442'>442</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">To a Friend of Boyhood Lost at Sea</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_443'>443</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Our Lady of the Twilight</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_444'>444</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Hill-Flowers</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_445'>445</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Carol of the Fir-Tree</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_447'>447</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Lavender</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_450'>450</a></span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>COLLECTED POEMS</h2><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE ENCHANTED ISLAND AND OTHER POEMS</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MIST IN THE VALLEY</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mist in the valley, weeping mist<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beset my homeward way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No gleam of rose or amethyst<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hallowed the parting day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A shroud, a shroud of awful grey<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wrapped every woodland brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drooped in crumbling disarray<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Around each wintry bough.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And closer round me now it clung<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Until I scarce could see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stealthy pathway overhung<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By silent tree and tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which floated in that mystery<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As—poised in waveless deeps—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Branching in worlds below the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The grey sea-forest sleeps.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mist in the valley, mist no less<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Within my groping mind!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stile swam out: a wilderness<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rolled round it, grey and blind.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A yard in front, a yard behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So strait my world was grown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I stooped to win once more some kind<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Glimmer of twig or stone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I crossed and lost the friendly stile<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And listened. Never a sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came to me. Mile on mile on mile<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It seemed the world around<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath some infinite sea lay drowned<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With all that e'er drew breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whilst I, alone, had strangely found<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A moment's life in death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A universe of lifeless grey<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oppressed me overhead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Below, a yard of clinging clay<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With rotting foliage red<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glimmered. The stillness of the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hark!—was it broken now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the slow drip of tears that bled<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From hidden heart or bough.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mist in the valley, mist no less<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That muffled every cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the soul's grey wilderness<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where faith lay down to die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Buried beyond all hope was I,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hope had no meaning there:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A yard above my head the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Could only mock at prayer.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">E'en as I groped along, the gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Suddenly shook at my feet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, strangely as from a rending tomb<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In resurrection, sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift wings tumultuously beat<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Away! I paused to hark—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, birds of thought, too fair, too fleet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To follow across the dark!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, like a madman's dream, there came<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One fair swift flash to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of distances, of streets a-flame<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With joy and agony,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And further yet, a moon-lit sea<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Foaming across its bars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And further yet, the infinity<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of wheeling suns and stars,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And further yet ... O, mist of suns<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I grope amidst your light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, further yet, what vast response<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From what transcendent height?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild wings that burst thro' death's dim night<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I can but pause and hark;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For O, ye are too swift, too white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To follow across the dark!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mist in the valley, yet I saw,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in my soul I knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gleaming City whence I draw<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The strength that then I drew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My misty pathway to pursue<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With steady pulse and breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through these dim forest-ways of dew<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And darkness, life and death.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> +<h2>A SONG OF THE PLOUGH</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">(<i>Morning.</i>)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Idle, comfortless, bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The broad bleak acres lie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ploughman guides the sharp ploughshare<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Steadily nigh.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The big plough-horses lift<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And climb from the marge of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the clouds of their breath on the clear wind drift<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over the fallow lea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Streaming up with the yoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Brown as the sweet-smelling loam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' a sun-swept smother of sweat and smoke<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The two great horses come.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up thro' the raw cold morn<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They trample and drag and swing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my dreams are waving with ungrown corn<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In a far-off spring.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is my soul lies bare<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Between the hills and the sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, ploughman Life, with thy sharp ploughshare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And plough the field for me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">(<i>Evening.</i>)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Over the darkening plain<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the stars regain the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Steals the chime of an unseen rein<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Steadily nigh.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lost in the deepening red<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sea has forgotten the shore:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The great dark steeds with their muffled tread<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Draw near once more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To the furrow's end they sweep<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like a sombre wave of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifting its crest to challenge the deep<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hush of Eternity.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still for a moment they stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Massed on the sun's red death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A surge of bronze, too great, too grand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To endure for more than a breath.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Only the billow and stream<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of muscle and flank and mane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like darkling mountain-cataracts gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gripped in a Titan's rein.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once more from the furrow's end<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They wheel to the fallow lea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And down the muffled slope descend<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the sleeping sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the fibrous knots of clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the sun-dried clots of earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cleave, and the sunset cloaks the grey<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Waste and the stony dearth!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, broad and dusky and sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sunset covers the weald;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But my dreams are waving with golden wheat<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In a still strange field.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My soul, my soul lies bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Between the hills and the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, ploughman Death, with thy sharp ploughshare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And plough the field for me.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE BANNER</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who in the gorgeous vanguard of the years<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With wingèd helmet glistens, let him hold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere he pluck down this banner, crying "It bears<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An old device"; for, though it seem the old,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is the new! No rent shroud of the past,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But its transfigured spirit that still shines<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Triumphantly before the foremost lines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even from the first prophesying the last.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whoso dreams to pluck it down shall stand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bewildered, while the great host thunders by;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he shall show the rent shroud in his hand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And "Lo, I lead the van!" he still shall cry;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While leagues away, the spirit-banner shines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rushing in triumph before the foremost lines.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>RANK AND FILE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Drum-taps! Drum-taps! Who is it marching,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Marching past in the night? Ah, hark,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Draw your curtains aside and see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Endless ranks of the stars o'er-arching<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Endless ranks of an army marching,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Marching out of the measureless dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Marching away to Eternity.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See the gleam of the white sad faces<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Moving steadily, row on row,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Marching away to their hopeless wars:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drum-taps, drum-taps, where are they marching?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Terrible, beautiful, human faces,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Common as dirt, but softer than snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Coarser than clay, but calm as the stars.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is it the last rank readily, steadily<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Swinging away to the unknown doom?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ere you can think it, the drum-taps beat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Louder, and here they come marching, marching,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great new level locked ranks of them readily<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Steadily swinging out of the gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Marching endlessly down the street.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Unregarded imperial regiments<br /></span> +<span class="i2">White from the roaring intricate places<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Deep in the maw of the world's machine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well content, they are marching, marching,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unregarded imperial regiments,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ay, and there are those terrible faces<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Great world-heroes that might have been.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hints and facets of One—the Eternal,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Faces of grief, compassion and pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Faces of hunger, faces of stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faces of love and of labour, marching,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Changing facets of One—the Eternal,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Streaming up thro' the wind and the rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">All together and each alone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You that doubt of the world's one Passion,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You for whose science the stars are a-stray,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Hark—to their orderly thunder-tread!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These, in the night, with the stars are marching<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One to the end of the world's one Passion!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You that have taken their Master away,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Where have you laid Him, living or dead?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You whose laws have hidden the One Law,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You whose searchings obscure the goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">You whose systems from chaos begun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chance-born, order-less, hark, they are marching,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hearts and tides and stars to the One Law,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Measured and orderly, rhythmical, whole,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Multitudinous, welded and one.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Split your threads of the seamless purple,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Round you marches the world-wide host,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Round your skies is the marching sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out in the night there's an army marching,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clothed with the night's own seamless purple,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Making death for the King their boast,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Marching straight to Eternity.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What do you know of the shot-riddled banners<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Royally surging out of the gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">You whose denials their souls despise?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out in the night they are marching, marching!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Treasure your wisdom, and leave them their banners!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then—when you follow them down to the tomb<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Pray for one glimpse of the faith in their eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pray for one gleam of the white sad faces,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Moving steadily, row on row,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Marching away to their hopeless wars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doomed to be trodden like dung, but marching,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Terrible, beautiful human faces,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Common as dirt, but softer than snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Coarser than clay, but calm as the stars.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What of the end? Will your knowledge escape it?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What of the end of their dumb dark tears?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">You who mock at their faith and sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look, for their ragged old banners are marching<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down to the end—will your knowledge escape it?—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down to the end of a few brief years!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">What should they care for the wisdom you bring.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Count as they pass, their hundreds, thousands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Millions, marching away to a doom<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Younger than London, older that Tyre!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drum-taps, drum-taps, where are they marching,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Regiments, nations, empires, marching?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down thro' the jaws of a world-wide tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Doomed or ever they sprang from the mire!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Doomed to be shovelled like dung to the midden,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Trodden and kneaded as clay in the road,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Father and little one, lover and friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out in the night they are marching, marching,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doomed to be shovelled like dung to the midden,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bodies that bowed beneath Christ's own load,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Love that—marched to the self-same end.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XIV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What of the end?—O, not of your glory,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not of your wealth or your fame that will live<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Half as long as this pellet of dust!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out in the night there's an army marching,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nameless, noteless, empty of glory,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ready to suffer and die and forgive,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Marching onward in simple trust,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wearing their poor little toy love-tokens<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Under the march of the terrible skies!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Is it a jest for a God to play?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose is the jest of these millions marching,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wearing their poor little toy love-tokens,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Waving their voicelessly grand good-byes,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Secretly trying, sometimes, to pray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XVI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dare you dream their trust in Eternity<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Broken, O you to whom prayers are vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">You who dream that their God is dead?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take your answer—these millions marching<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of Eternity, into Eternity,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These that smiled "We shall meet again,"<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Even as the life from their loved one fled.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XVII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This is the answer, not of the sages,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not of the loves that are ready to part,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ready to find their oblivion sweet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out in the night there's an army marching,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men that have toiled thro' the endless ages,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Men of the pit and the desk and the mart,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Men that remember, the men in the street,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XVIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These that into the gloom of Eternity<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stream thro' the dream of this lamp-starred town<br /></span> +<span class="i4">London, an army of clouds to-night!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These that of old came marching, marching,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the terrible gloom of Eternity,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bowing their heads at Rameses' frown,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Streaming away thro' Babylon's light;</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XIX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These that swept at the sound of the trumpet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out thro' the night like gonfaloned clouds,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Exiled hosts when the world was Rome,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tossing their tattered old eagles, marching<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down to sleep till the great last trumpet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">London, Nineveh, rend your shrouds,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Rally the legions and lead them home,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lead them home with their glorious faces<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Moving steadily, row on row<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Marching up from the end of wars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the Valley of Shadows, marching,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Terrible, beautiful, human faces,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Common as dirt, but softer than snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Coarser than clay, but calm as the stars,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Marching out of the endless ages,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Marching out of the dawn of time,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Endless columns of unknown men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Endless ranks of the stars o'er-arching<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Endless ranks of an army marching<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Numberless out of the numberless ages,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Men out of every race and clime,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Marching steadily, now as then.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE SKY-LARK CAGED</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beat, little breast, against the wires.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Strive, little wings and misted eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which one wild gleam of memory fires<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beseeching still the unfettered skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whither at dewy dawn you sprang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quivering with joy from this dark earth and sang.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And still you sing—your narrow cage<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall set at least your music free!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its rapturous wings in glorious rage<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mount and are lost in liberty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While those who caged you creep on earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blind prisoners from the hour that gave them birth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sing! The great City surges round.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blinded with light, thou canst not know.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dream! 'Tis the fir-woods' windy sound<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rolling a psalm of praise below.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sing, o'er the bitter dust and shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And touch us with thine own transcendent flame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sing, o'er the City dust and slime;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sing, o'er the squalor and the gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The greed that darkens earth with crime,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The spirits that are bought and sold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, shower the healing notes like rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lift us to the height of grief again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sing! The same music swells your breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the wild notes are still as sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when above the fragrant nest<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the wide billowing fields of wheat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You soared and sang the livelong day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the light of heaven dissolved away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The light of heaven! Is it not here?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One rapture, one ecstatic joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One passion, one sublime despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One grief which nothing can destroy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You—though your dying eyes are wet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remember, 'tis our blunted hearts forget.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beat, little breast, still beat, still beat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Strive, misted eyes and tremulous wings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swell, little throat, your <i>Sweet! Sweet! Sweet!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thro' which such deathless memory rings:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better to break your heart and die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than, like your gaolers, to forget your sky.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE LOVERS' FLIGHT</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, the dusk is lit with flowers!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quietly take this guiding hand:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little breath to waste is ours<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the road to lovers' land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time is in his dungeon-keep!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah, not thither, lest he hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Starting from his old grey sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rosy feet upon the stair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, not thither, lest he heed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ere we reach the rusty door!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, the stairways only lead<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Back to his dark world once more:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's a merrier way we know<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Leading to a lovelier night—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, your casement all a-glow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Diamonding the wonder-light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fling the flowery lattice wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let the silken ladder down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swiftly to the garden glide<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Glimmering in your long white gown,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rosy from your pillow, sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come, unsandalled and divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the blossoms stain your feet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the stars behold them shine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swift, our pawing palfreys wait,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the page—Dan Cupid—frets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holding at the garden gate<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Reins that chime like castanets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bits a-foam with fairy flakes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flung from seas whence Venus rose:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, for Father Time awakes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the star of morning glows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swift—one satin foot shall sway<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Half a heart-beat in my hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swing to stirrup and swift away<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down the road to lovers' land:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ride—the moon is dusky gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ride—our hearts are young and warm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ride—the hour is growing old,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the next may break the charm.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swift, ere we that thought the song<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full—for others—of the truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We that smiled, contented, strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dowered with endless wealth of youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Find that like a summer cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Youth indeed has crept away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Find the robe a clinging shroud<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the hair be-sprent with grey.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ride—we'll leave it all behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All the turmoil and the tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the mad vindictive blind<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yelping of the heartless years!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ride—the ringing world's in chase,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet we've slipped old Father Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the love-light in your face<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the jingle of this rhyme.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ride—for still the hunt is loud!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ride—our steeds can hold their own!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yours, a satin sea-wave, proud,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Queen, to be your living throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glittering with the foam and fire<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Churned from seas whence Venus rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tow'rds the gates of our desire<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gloriously burning flows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He, with streaming flanks a-smoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Needs no spur of blood-stained steel:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only that soft thudding stroke<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Once, o' the little satin heel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drives his mighty heart, your slave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bridled with these bells of rhyme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Onward, like a crested wave<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thundering out of hail of Time.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On, till from a rosy spark<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fairy-small as gleams your hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broadening as we cleave the dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dawn the gates of lovers' land,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nearing, sweet, till breast and brow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lifted through the purple night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Catch the deepening glory now<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And your eyes the wonder-light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">E'en as tow'rd your face I lean<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Swooping nigh the gates of bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I the king and you the queen<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Crown each other with a kiss.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Riding, soaring like a song<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Burn we tow'rds the heaven above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You the sweet and I the strong<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in both the fire of love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ride—though now the distant chase<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Knows that we have slipped old Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lift the love-light of your face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shake the bridle of this rhyme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, the flowers of night and day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Streaming past on either hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ride into the eternal May,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ride into the lovers' land.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE ROCK POOL</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bright as a fallen fragment of the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mid shell-encrusted rocks the sea-pool shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glassing the sunset-clouds in its clear heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A small enchanted world enwalled apart<br /></span> +<span class="i8">In diamond mystery,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Content with its own dreams, its own strict zone<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of urchin woods, its fairy bights and bars,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Its daisy-disked anemones and rose-feathered stars.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forsaken for awhile by that deep roar<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which works in storm and calm the eternal will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drags down the cliffs, bids the great hills go by<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shepherds their multitudinous pageantry,—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Here, on this ebb-tide shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A jewelled bath of beauty, sparkling still,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The little sea-pool smiled away the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And slept on its own plane of bright tranquillity.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A self-sufficing soul, a pool in trance,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Un-stirred by all the spirit-winds that blow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From o'er the gulfs of change, content, ere yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On its own crags, which rough peaked limpets fret<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The last rich colours glance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Content to mirror the sea-bird's wings of snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or feel in some small creek, ere sunset fails,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A tiny Nautilus hoist its lovely purple sails;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, furrowing into pearl that rosy bar,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sail its own soul from fairy fringe to fringe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lured by the twinkling prey 'twas born to reach<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In its own pool, by many an elfin beach<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Of jewels, adventuring far<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the last mirrored cloud and sunset-tinge<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And past the rainbow-dripping cave where lies<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The dark green pirate-crab at watch with beaded eyes,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or fringed Medusa floats like light in light,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Medusa, with the loveliest of all fays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pent in its irised bubble of jellied sheen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trailing long ferns of moonlight, shot with green<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And crimson rays and white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waving ethereal tendrils, ghostly sprays,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Daring the deep, dissolving in the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The vanishing point of life, the light whence life begun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Poised between me, light, time, eternity,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So tinged with all, that in its delicate brain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kindling it as a lamp with her bright wings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day-long, night-long, young Ariel sits and sings<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Echoing the lucid sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listening it echo her own unearthly strain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Watching through lucid walls the world's rich tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One light, one substance with her own, rise and subside.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And over soft brown woods, limpid, serene,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Puffing its fans the Nautilus went its way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from a hundred salt and weedy shelves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peered little hornèd faces of sea-elves:<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The prawn darted, half-seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' watery sunlight, like a pale green ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all around, from soft green waving bowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Creatures like fruit out-crept from fluted shells like flowers.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, over all, that glowing mirror spread<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The splendour of its heaven-reflecting gleams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A level wealth of tints, calm as the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That broods above our own mortality:<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The temporal seas had fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ah, what hopes, what fears, what mystic dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Could ruffle it now from any deeper deep?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Content in its own bounds it slept a changeless sleep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Suddenly, from that heaven beyond belief,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Suddenly, from that world beyond its ken,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dashing great billows o'er its rosy bars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shivering its dreams into a thousand stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Flooding each sun-dried reef<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With waves of colour, (as once, for mortal men<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bethesda's angel) with blue eyes, wide and wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Naked into the pool there stepped a little child.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her red-gold hair against the far green sea<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blew thickly out: her slender golden form<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shone dark against the richly waning West<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As with one hand she splashed her glistening breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Then waded up to her knee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And frothed the whole pool into a fairy storm!...<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So, stooping through our skies, of old, there came<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Angels that once could set this world's dark pool a-flame,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">XI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From which the seas of faith have ebbed away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Leaving the lonely shore too bright, too bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While mirrored softly in the smooth wet sand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A deeper sunset sees its blooms expand<br /></span> +<span class="i8">But all too phantom-fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between the dark brown rocks and sparkling spray<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where the low ripples pleaded, shrank and sighed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tossed a moment's rainbow heavenward ere they died.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">XII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stoop, starry souls, incline to this dark coast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where all too long, too faithlessly, we dream.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stoop to the world's dark pool, its crags and scars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its yellow sands, its rosy harbour-bars,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And soft green wastes that gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But with some glorious drifting god-like ghost<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of cloud, some vaguely passionate crimson stain:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rend the blue waves of heaven, shatter our sleep again!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE ISLAND HAWK</h2> + +<h3>(A SONG FOR THE FIRST LAUNCHING OF HIS MAJESTY'S AERIAL NAVY)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Ships have swept with my conquering name</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Over the waves of war,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Swept thro' the Spaniards' thunder and flame</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>To the splendour of Trafalgar:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>On the blistered decks of their great renown,</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>In the wind of my storm-beat wings,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Hawkins and Hawke went sailing down</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>To the harbour of deep-sea kings!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>By the storm-beat wings of the hawk, the hawk,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Bent beak and pitiless breast,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>They clove their way thro' the red sea-fray:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Who wakens me now to the quest?</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hushed are the whimpering winds on the hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dumb is the shrinking plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the songs that enchanted the woods are still<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I shoot to the skies again!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Does the blood grow black on my fierce bent beak,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Does the down still cling to my claw?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who brightened these eyes for the prey they seek?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Life, I follow thy law!<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>For I am the hawk, the hawk, the hawk!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Who knoweth my pitiless breast?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Who watcheth me sway in the wild wind's way?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Flee—flee—for I quest, I quest.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As I glide and glide with my peering head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or swerve at a puff of smoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who watcheth my wings on the wind outspread,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here—gone—with an instant stroke?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who toucheth the glory of life I feel<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I buffet this great glad gale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spire and spire to the cloud-world, wheel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Loosen my wings and sail?<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>For I am the hawk, the island hawk,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Who knoweth my pitiless breast?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Who watcheth me sway in the sun's bright way?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Flee—flee—for I quest, I quest.</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Had they given me "Cloud-cuckoo-city" to guard<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Between mankind and the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' the dew might shine on an April sward,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Iris had ne'er passed by!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift as her beautiful wings might be<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the rosy Olympian hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had Epops entrusted the gates to me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Earth were his kingdom still.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>For I am the hawk, the archer, the hawk!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Who knoweth my pitiless breast?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Who watcheth me sway in the wild wind's way?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Flee—flee—for I quest, I quest.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My mate in the nest on the high bright tree<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blazing with dawn and dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She knoweth the gleam of the world and the glee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I drop like a bolt from the blue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She knoweth the fire of the level flight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I skim, close, close to the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the long grass lashing my breast and the bright<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dew-drops flashing around.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>She watcheth the hawk, the hawk, the hawk,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>(O, the red-blotched eggs in the nest!)</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Watcheth him sway in the sun's bright way;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Flee—flee—for I quest, I quest.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She builded her nest on the high bright wold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She was taught in a world afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lore that is only an April old<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet old as the evening star;</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life of a far off ancient day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In an hour unhooded her eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the time of the budding of one green spray<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She was wise as the stars are wise.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Brown flower of the tree of the hawk, the hawk,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>On the old elm's burgeoning breast,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>She watcheth me sway in the wild wind's way;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Flee—flee—for I quest, I quest.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Spirit and sap of the sweet swift Spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fire of our island soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burn in her breast and pulse in her wing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While the endless ages roll;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Avatar—she—of the perilous pride<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That plundered the golden West,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her glance is a sword, but it sweeps too wide<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a rumour to trouble her rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>She goeth her glorious way, the hawk,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>She nurseth her brood alone;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>She will not swoop for an owlet's whoop,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>She hath calls and cries of her own.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was never a dale in our isle so deep<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That her wide wings were not free<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To soar to the sovran heights and keep<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sight of the rolling sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it there, is it here in the rolling skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The realm of her future fame?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look once, look once in her glittering eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye shall find her the same, the same.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Up to the sides with the hawk, the hawk,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>As it was in the days of old!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Ye shall sail once more, ye shall soar, ye shall soar</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>To the new-found realms of gold.</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hath ridden on white Arabian steeds<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thro' the ringing English dells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the joy of a great queen, hunting in state,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the music of golden bells;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A queen's fair fingers have drawn the hood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tossed her aloft in the blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A white hand eager for needless blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I hunt for the needs of two.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Yet I am the hawk, the hawk, the hawk!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Who knoweth my pitiless breast?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Who watcheth me sway in the sun's bright way?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Flee—flee—for I quest, I quest.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who fashioned her wide and splendid eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That have stared in the eyes of kings?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a silken twist she was looped to their wrist:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She has clawed at their jewelled rings!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who flung her first thro' the crimson dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To pluck him a prey from the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the love-light shone upon lake and lawn<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the valleys of Paradise?<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Who fashioned the hawk, the hawk, the hawk,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Bent beak and pitiless breast?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Who watcheth him sway in the wild wind's way?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Flee—flee—for I quest, I quest.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">XI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is there ever a song in all the world<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall say how the quest began<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the beak and the wings that have made us kings<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And cruel—almost—as man?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wild wind whimpers across the heath<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where the sad little tufts of blue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the red-stained grey little feathers of death<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flutter! <i>Who fashioned us? Who?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Who fashioned the scimitar wings of the hawk,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Bent beak and arrowy breast?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Who watcheth him sway in the sun's bright way?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Flee—flee—for I quest, I quest.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i0"><i>XII</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Linnet and woodpecker, red-cap and jay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shriek that a doom shall fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One day, one day, on my pitiless way<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the sky that is over us all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the great blue hawk of the heavens above<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fashioned the world for his prey,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King and queen and hawk and dove,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We shall meet in his clutch that day;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Shall I not welcome him, I, the hawk?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Yea, cry, as they shrink from his claw,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Cry, as I die, to the unknown sky,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Life, I follow thy law!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i0"><i>XIII</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Ships have swept with my conquering name ...</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6">Over the world and beyond,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Hark! Bellerophon, Marlborough, Thunderer,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Condor, respond!—<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>On the blistered decks of their dread renown,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>In the rush of my storm-beat wings,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Hawkins and Hawke went sailing down</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>To the glory of deep-sea kings!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>By the storm-beat wings of the hawk, the hawk,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Bent beak and pitiless breast,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>They clove their way thro' the red sea-fray!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Who wakens me now to the quest.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE ADMIRAL'S GHOST</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I tell you a tale to-night<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which a seaman told to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With eyes that gleamed in the lanthorn light<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a voice as low as the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You could almost hear the stars<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Twinkling up in the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the old wind woke and moaned in the spars,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the same old waves went by,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Singing the same old song<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ages and ages ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While he froze my blood in that deep-sea night<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the things that he seemed to know.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A bare foot pattered on deck;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ropes creaked; then—all grew still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he pointed his finger straight in my face<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And growled, as a sea-dog will.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Do' ee know who Nelson was?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That pore little shrivelled form<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the patch on his eye and the pinned-up sleeve<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a soul like a North Sea storm?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ask of the Devonshire men!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They know, and they'll tell you true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wasn't the pore little chawed-up chap<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That Hardy thought he knew.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He wasn't the man you think!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His patch was a dern disguise!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he knew that they'd find him out, d'you see,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If they looked him in both his eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He was twice as big as he seemed;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But his clothes were cunningly made.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'd both of his hairy arms all right!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sleeve was a trick of the trade.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You've heard of sperrits, no doubt;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Well, there's more in the matter than that!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he wasn't the patch and he wasn't the sleeve,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he wasn't the laced cocked-hat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Nelson was just—a Ghost!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2">You may laugh! But the Devonshire men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They knew that he'd come when England called,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they know that he'll come again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll tell you the way it was<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(For none of the landsmen know),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to tell it you right, you must go a-starn<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Two hundred years or so.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The waves were lapping and slapping<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The same as they are to-day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Drake lay dying aboard his ship<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In Nombre Dios Bay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The scent of the foreign flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came floating all around;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'But I'd give my soul for the smell o' the pitch,'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says he, 'in Plymouth Sound.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'What shall I do,' he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'When the guns begin to roar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' England wants me, and me not there<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To shatter 'er foes once more?'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"(You've heard what he said, maybe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I'll mark you the p'ints again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I want you to box your compass right<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And get my story plain.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'You must take my drum,' he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'To the old sea-wall at home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if ever you strike that drum,' he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Why, strike me blind, I'll come!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'If England needs me, dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or living, I'll rise that day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll rise from the darkness under the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ten thousand miles away.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"That's what he said; and he died,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' his pirates, listenin' roun',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With their crimson doublets and jewelled swords<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That flashed as the sun went down,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"They sewed him up in his shroud<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With a round-shot top and toe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sink him under the salt sharp sea<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where all good seamen go.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"They lowered him down in the deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there in the sunset light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They boomed a broadside over his grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As meanin' to say 'Good-night.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"They sailed away in the dark<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the dear little isle they knew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they hung his drum by the old sea-wall<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The same as he told them to.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Two hundred years went by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the guns began to roar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And England was fighting hard for her life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ever she fought of yore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'It's only my dead that count,'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She said, as she says to-day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'It isn't the ships and it isn't the guns<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Ull sweep Trafalgar's Bay.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"D'you guess who Nelson was?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You may laugh, but it's true as true!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was more in that pore little chawed-up chap<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than ever his best friend knew.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The foe was creepin' close,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the dark, to our white-cliffed isle;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They were ready to leap at England's throat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When—O, you may smile, you may smile;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But—ask of the Devonshire men;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For they heard in the dead of night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The roll of a drum, and they saw <i>him</i> pass<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On a ship all shining white.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He stretched out his dead cold face<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he sailed in the grand old way!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fishes had taken an eye and his arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But he swept Trafalgar's Bay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nelson—was Francis Drake!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O, what matters the uniform,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the patch on your eye or your pinned-up sleeve,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If your soul's like a North Sea storm?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>EDINBURGH</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">City of mist and rain and blown grey spaces,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dashed with wild wet colour and gleam of tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dreaming in Holyrood halls of the passionate faces<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lifted to one Queen's face that has conquered the years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are not the halls of thy memory haunted places?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cometh there not as a moon (where the blood-rust sears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Floors a-flutter of old with silks and laces),<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gliding, a ghostly Queen, thro' a mist of tears?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Proudly here, with a loftier pinnacled splendour,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Throned in his northern Athens, what spells remain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still on the marble lips of the Wizard, and render<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Silent the gazer on glory without a stain!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here and here, do we whisper, with hearts more tender,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tusitala wandered thro' mist and rain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rainbow-eyed and frail and gallant and slender,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dreaming of pirate-isles in a jewelled main.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up the Canongate climbeth, cleft asunder<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Raggedly here, with a glimpse of the distant sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flashed through a crumbling alley, a glimpse of wonder,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nay, for the City is throned on Eternity!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark! from the soaring castle a cannon's thunder<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Closeth an hour for the world and an æon for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gazing at last from the martial heights whereunder<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Deathless memories roll to an ageless sea.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>IN A RAILWAY CARRIAGE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three long isles of sunset-cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Poised in an ocean of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Floated away in the west<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the long train southward rolled;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And through the gleam and shade of the panes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While meadow and wood went by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the streaming earth<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We watched the steadfast sky.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dark before the westward window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heavy and bloated, rolled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The face of a drunken woman<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nodding against the gold;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dark before the infinite glory,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With bleared and leering eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It stupidly lurched and nodded<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Against the tender skies.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>What had ye done to her, masters of men,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>That her head be bowed down thus—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Thus for your golden vespers,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And deepening angelus?</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dark, besotted, malignant, vacant,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Slobbering, wrinkled, old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weary and wickedly smiling,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She nodded against the gold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pitiful, loathsome, maudlin, lonely,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her moist, inhuman eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blinked at the flies on the window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And could not see the skies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As a beast that turns and returns to a mirror<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And will not see its face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her eyes rejected the sunset,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her soul lay dead in its place,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dead in the furrows and folds of her flesh<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As a corpse lies lapped in the shroud;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silently floated beside her<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The isles of sunset-cloud.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>What had ye done to her, years upon years,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>That her head should be bowed down thus—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Thus for your golden vespers,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And deepening angelus?</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her nails were blackened and split with labour,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her back was heavily bowed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silently floated beside her<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The isles of sunset-cloud.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Over their tapering streaks of lilac,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In breathless depths afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright as the tear of an angel<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Glittered a lonely star.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While the hills and the streams of the world went past us,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the long train roared and rolled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Southward, and dusk was falling,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She nodded against the gold.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>AN EAST-END COFFEE-STALL</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down the dark alley a ring of orange light<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Glows. God, what leprous tatters of distress,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Droppings of misery, rags of Thy loneliness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quiver and heave like vermin, out of the night!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like crippled rats, creeping out of the gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O Life, for one of thy terrible moments there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lit by the little flickering yellow flare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faces that mock at life and death and doom,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Faces that long, long since have known the worst,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Faces of women that have seen the child<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Waste in their arms, and strangely, terribly, smiled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the dark nipple of death has eased its thirst;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Faces of men that once, though long ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Saw the faint light of hope, though far away,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hope that, at end of some tremendous day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They yet might reach some life where tears could flow;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Faces of our humanity, ravaged, white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wrenched with old love, old hate, older despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Steal out of vile filth-dropping dens to stare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On that wild monstrance of a naphtha light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They crowd before the stall's bright altar rail,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Grotesque, and sacred, for that light's brief span,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all the shuddering darkness cries, "All hail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Daughters and Sons of Man!"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See, see, once more, though all their souls be dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They hold it up, triumphantly hold it up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They feel, they warm their hands upon the Cup;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their crapulous hands, their claw-like hands break Bread!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See, with lean faces rapturously a-glow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a brief while they dream and munch and drink;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then, one by one, once more, silently slink<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back, back into the gulfing mist. They go,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One by one, out of the ring of light!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They creep, like crippled rats, into the gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into the fogs of life and death and doom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the night, the immeasurable night.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>RED OF THE DAWN</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Dawn peered in with blood-shot eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pressed close against the cracked old pane.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The garret slept: the slow sad rain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had ceased: grey fogs obscured the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Dawn peered in with haggard eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All as last night? The three-legged chair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bare walls and the tattered bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All!—but for those wild flakes of red<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(And Dawn, perhaps, had splashed them there!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round the bare walls, the bed, the chair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas here, last night, when winds were loud,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A ragged singing-girl, she came<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out of the tavern's glare and shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With some few pence—for she was proud—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came home to sleep, when winds were loud.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And she sleeps well; for she was tired!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That huddled shape beneath the sheet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With knees up-drawn, no wind or sleet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can wake her now! Sleep she desired;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she sleeps well, for she was tired.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there was one that followed her<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With some unhappy curse called "love":<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Last night, though winds beat loud above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She shrank! Hark, on the creaking stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What stealthy footstep followed her?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But now the Curse, it seemed, had gone!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The small tin-box, wherein she hid<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Old childish treasures, had burst its lid.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dawn kissed her doll's cracked face. It shone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red-smeared, but laughing—<i>the Curse is gone</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So she sleeps well: she does not move;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And on the wall, the chair, the bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is it the Dawn that splashes red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High as the text where <i>God is Love</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hangs o'er her head? She does not move.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The clock dictates its old refrain:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All else is quiet; or, far away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shaking the world with new-born day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There thunders past some mighty train:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The clock dictates its old refrain.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Dawn peers in with blood-shot eyes:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The crust, the broken cup are there!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She does not rise yet to prepare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her scanty meal. God does not rise<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pluck the blood-stained sheet from her;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Dawn peers in with haggard eyes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE DREAM-CHILD'S INVITATION</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Once upon a time!</i>—Ah, now the light is burning dimly.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Peterkin is here again: he wants another tale!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Don't you hear him whispering—<i>The wind is in the chimley,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>The ottoman's a treasure-ship, we'll all set sail?</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All set sail? No, the wind is very loud to-night:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The darkness on the waters is much deeper than of yore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet I wonder—hark, he whispers—if the little streets are still as bright<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In old Japan, in old Japan, that happy haunted shore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I wonder—hush, he whispers—if perhaps the world will wake again<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When Christmas brings the stories back from where the skies are blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where clouds are scattering diamonds down on every cottage window-pane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And every boy's a fairy prince, and every tale is true.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There the sword Excalibur is thrust into the dragon's throat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Evil there is evil, black is black, and white is white:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There the child triumphant hurls the villain spluttering into the moat;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There the captured princess only waits the peerless knight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fairyland is gleaming there beyond the Sherwood Forest trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There the City of the Clouds has anchored on the plain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All her misty vistas and slumber-rosy palaces<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(<i>Shall we not, ah, shall we not, wander there again?</i>)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Happy ever after" there, the lights of home a welcome fling<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Softly thro' the darkness as the star that shone of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Softly over Bethlehem and o'er the little cradled King<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whom the sages worshipped with their frankincense and gold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Once upon a time</i>—perhaps a hundred thousand years ago—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whisper to me, Peterkin, I have forgotten when!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once upon a time there was a way, a way we used to know<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For stealing off at twilight from the weary ways of men.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whisper it, O whisper it—the way, the way is all I need!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All the heart and will are here and all the deep desire!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Once upon a time</i>—ah, now the light is drawing near indeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I see the fairy faces flush to roses round the fire.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Once upon a time</i>—the little lips are on my cheek again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little fairy fingers clasped and clinging draw me nigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dreams, no more than dreams, but they unloose the weary prisoner's chain<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lead him from his dungeon! "What's a thousand years?" they cry.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A thousand years, a thousand years, a little drifting dream ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All of us were hunting with a band of merry men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The skies were blue, the boughs were green, the clouds were crisping isles of snow ...<br /></span> +<span class="i2">... So Robin blew his bugle, and the Now became the Then.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE TRAMP TRANSFIGURED</h2> + +<h3>(AN EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF A CORN-FLOWER MILLIONAIRE)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All the way to Fairyland across the thyme and heather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Round a little bank of fern that rustled on the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me and stick and bundle, sir, we jogged along together,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Changeable the weather? Well—it ain't all pie!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just about the sunset—Won't you listen to my story?—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Look at me! I'm only rags and tatters to your eye!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir, that blooming sunset crowned this battered hat with glory!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Me that was a crawling worm became a butterfly—<br /></span> +<span class="i16">(Ain't it hot and dry?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thank you, sir, thank you, sir!) a blooming butterfly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well, it happened this way! I was lying loose and lazy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just as, of a Sunday, you yourself might think no shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Puffing little clouds of smoke, and picking at a daisy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dreaming of your dinner, p'raps, or wishful for the same:</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suddenly, around that ferny bank there slowly waddled—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Slowly as the finger of a clock her shadow came—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly as a tortoise down that winding path she toddled,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Leaning on a crookèd staff, a poor old crookèd dame,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Limping, but not lame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Tick, tack, tick, tack</i>, a poor old crookèd dame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slowly did I say, sir? Well, you've heard that funny fable<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Consekint the tortoise and the race it give an 'are?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This was curiouser than that! At first I wasn't able<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quite to size the memory up that bristled thro' my hair:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suddenly, I'd got it, with a nasty shivery feeling,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While she walked and walked and yet was not a bit more near,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir, it was the tread-mill earth beneath her feet a-wheeling<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Faster than her feet could trot to heaven or anywhere,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Earth's revolvin' stair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wheeling, while my wayside clump was kind of anchored there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Tick, tack, tick, tack</i>, and just a little nearer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Inch and 'arf an inch she went, but never gained a yard:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quiet as a fox I lay; I didn't wish to scare 'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Watching thro' the ferns, and thinking "What a rum old card!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both her wrinkled tortoise eyes with yellow resin oozing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Both her poor old bony hands were red and seamed and scarred!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord, I felt as if myself was in a public boozing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While my own old woman went about and scrubbed and charred!<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Lord, it seemed so hard!<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Tick, tack, tick, tack</i>, she never gained a yard.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yus, and there in front of her—I hadn't seen it rightly—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lurked that little finger-post to point another road,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just a tiny path of poppies twisting infi-nite-ly<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through the whispering seas of wheat, a scarlet thread that showed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White with ox-eye daisies here and there and chalky cobbles,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blue with waving corn-flowers: far and far away it glowed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winding into heaven, I thinks; but, Lord, the way she hobbles,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lord, she'll never reach it, for she bears too great a load;<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Yus, and then I knowed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If she did, she couldn't, for the board was marked <i>No Road</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Tick, tack, tick, tack</i>, I couldn't wait no longer!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Up I gets and bows polite and pleasant as a toff—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Arternoon," I says, "I'm glad your boots are going stronger;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Only thing I'm dreading is your feet 'ull both come off."<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Tick, tack, tick, tack</i>, she didn't stop to answer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Arternoon," she says, and sort o' chokes a little cough,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I must get to Piddinghoe to-morrow if I can, sir!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Demme, my good woman! Haw! Don't think I mean to loff,"<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Says I, like a toff,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Where d'you mean to sleep to-night? God made this grass for go'ff."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Tick, tack, tick, tack</i>, and smilingly she eyed me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Dreadful the low cunning of these creechars, don't you think?)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"That's all right! The weather's bright. Them bushes there 'ull hide me.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Don't the gorse smell nice?" I felt my derned old eyelids blink!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Supper? I've a crust of bread, a big one, and a bottle,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Just as I expected! Ah, these creechars always drink!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sugar and water and half a pinch of tea to rinse my throttle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then I'll curl up cosy!"—"If you're cotched it means the clink!"<br /></span> +<span class="i18">—"Yus, but don't you think<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If a star should see me, God 'ull tell that star to wink?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now, look here," I says, "I don't know what your blooming age is!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Three-score years and five," she says, "that's five more years to go<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Tick, tack, tick tack</i>, before I gets my wages!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Wages all be damned," I says, "there's one thing that I know—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gals that stay out late o' nights are sure to meet wi' sorrow.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Speaking as a toff," I says, "it isn't <i>comme il faut</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell me why you want to get to Piddinghoe to-morrow."—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That was where my son worked, twenty years ago!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i16">"Twenty years ago?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Never wrote? May still be there? Remember you?... Just so!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yus, it was a drama; but she weren't my long-lost parent!<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Tick, tack, tick, tack</i>, she trotted all the while,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never getting forrarder, and not the least aware on't,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though I stood beside her with a sort of silly smile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stock-still! <i>Tick, tack</i>! This blooming world's a bubble:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There I stood and stared at it, mile on flowery mile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chasing o' the sunset,—"Gals are sure to meet wi' trouble<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Staying out o' nights," I says, once more, and tries to smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i18">"Come, that ain't your style,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here's a shilling, mother, for to-day I've made my pile!"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yus, a dozen coppers, all my capital, it fled, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Representin' twelve bokays that cost me nothink each,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twelve bokays o' corn-flowers blue that grew beside my bed, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That same day, at sunrise, when the sky was like a peach:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Easy as a poet's dreams they blossomed round my head, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All I had to do was just to lift my hand and reach:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, upon the roaring waves I cast my blooming bread, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bread I'd earned with nose-gays on the bare-foot Brighton beach,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Nose-gays <i>and</i> a speech,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All about the bright blue eyes they matched on Brighton beach.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">XI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still, you've only got to hear the bankers on the budget,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then you'll know the giving game is hardly "high finance";<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which no more it wasn't for that poor old dame to trudge it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Tick, tack, tick, tack</i>, on such a devil's dance:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crumbs, it took me quite aback to see her stop so humble,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Casting up into my face a sort of shiny glance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Bless you, bless you</i>, that was what I thought I heard her mumble;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lord, a prayer for poor old Bill, a rummy sort of chance!<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Crumbs, that shiny glance<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Kinder made me king of all the sky from here to France.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">XII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Tick, tack, tick, tack</i>, but now she toddled faster:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soon she'd reach the little twisted by-way through the wheat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Look 'ee here," I says, "young woman, don't you court disaster!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Peepin' through yon poppies there's a cottage trim and neat</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">White as chalk and sweet as turf: wot price a bed for sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sprigs of lavender between the pillow and the sheet?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"No," she says, "I've got to get to Piddinghoe to-morrow!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">P'raps they'd tell the work'us! And I've lashings here to eat:<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Don't the gorse smell sweet?"...<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Well, I turned and left her plodding on beside the wheat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">XIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Every cent I'd given her like a hero in a story;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet, alone with leagues of wheat I seemed to grow aware<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Solomon himself, arrayed in all his golden glory,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Couldn't vie with Me, the corn-flower king, the millionaire!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How to cash those bright blue cheques that night? My trouser pockets<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Jingled sudden! Six more pennies, crept from James knew where!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crumbs! I hurried back with eyes just bulging from their sockets,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pushed 'em in the old dame's fist and listened for the prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Shamming not to care,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bill—the blarsted chicken-thief, the corn-flower millionaire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">XIV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Tick, tack, tick, tack</i>, and faster yet she clattered!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ay, she'd almost gained a yard! I left her once again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feeling very warm inside and sort of 'ighly flattered,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On I plodded, all alone, with hay-stacks in my brain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suddenly, with <i>chink—chink—chink</i>, the old sweet jingle<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Startled me! <span class="smcap">'Twas thruppence more</span>! Three coppers round and plain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord, temptation struck me and I felt my gullet tingle.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then—I hurried back, beside them seas of golden grain:<br /></span> +<span class="i14">No, I can't explain;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There I thrust 'em in her fist, and left her once again.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">XV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tinkle-chink! <span class="smcap">Three ha'pence</span>! If the vulgar fractions followed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Big fleas have little fleas! It flashed upon me there,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the snakes of Pharaoh which the snakes of Moses swallowed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All the world was playing at the tortoise and the hare:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half the smallest atom is—my soul was getting tipsy—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heaven is one big circle and the centre's everywhere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yus, and that old woman was an angel and a gipsy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yus, and Bill, the chicken-thief, the corn-flower millionaire,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Shamming not to care,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What was he? A seraph on the misty rainbow-stair!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XVI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Don't you make no doubt of it! The deeper that you look, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All your ancient poets tell you just the same as me,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What about old Ovid and his most indecent book, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Morphosizing females into flower and star and tree?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What about old Proteus and his 'ighly curious 'abits,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mixing of his old grey beard into the old grey sea?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What about old Darwin and the hat that brought forth rabbits,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mud and slime that growed into the pomp of Ninevey?<br /></span> +<span class="i14">What if there should be<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One great Power beneath it all, one God in you and me?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XVII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Anyway, it seemed to me I'd struck the world's pump-handle!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Back with that three ha'pence, Bill," I mutters, "or you're lost."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back I hurries thro' the dusk where, shining like a candle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pale before the sunset stood that fairy finger-post.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Sir, she wasn't there!</i> I'd struck the place where all roads crost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the roads in all the world.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i28">She couldn't yet have trotted<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Even to the ... Hist! a stealthy step behind? A ghost?<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Swish</i>! A flying noose had caught me round the neck! Garotted!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Back I staggered, clutching at the moonbeams, yus, almost<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Throttled! Sir, I boast<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bill is tough, but ... when it comes to throttling by a ghost!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XVIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Winged like a butterfly, tall and slender<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Out It steps with the rope on its arm.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Crumbs," I says, "all right! I surrender!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When have I crossed you or done you harm?<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Ef</i> you're a sperrit," I says, "O, crikey,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ef</i> you're a sperrit, get hence, vamoose!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet as music, she spoke—"I'm Psyche!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Choking me still with her silken noose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XIX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Straight at the word from the ferns and blossoms<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fretting the moon-rise over the downs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little blue wings and little white bosoms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little white faces with golden crowns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peeped, and the colours came twinkling round me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Laughed, and the turf grew purple with thyme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Danced, and the sweet crushed scents nigh drowned me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sang, and the hare-bells rang in chime.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All around me, gliding and gleaming,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair as a fallen sunset-sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Butterfly wings came drifting, dreaming,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Clouds of the little folk clustered nigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little white hands like pearls uplifted<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cords of silk in shimmering skeins,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast them about me and dreamily drifted<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Winding me round with their soft warm chains.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Round and round me they dizzily floated,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Binding me faster with every turn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crumbs, my pals would have grinned and gloated<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Watching me over that fringe of fern,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bill, with his battered old hat outstanding<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Black as a foam-swept rock to the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bill, like a rainbow of silks expanding<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into a beautiful big cocoon,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Big as a cloud, though his hat still crowned him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yus, and his old boots bulged below:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seas of colour went shimmering round him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dancing, glimmering, glancing a-glow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bill knew well what them elves were at, sir,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ain't you an en-to-mol-o-gist?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well, despite of his old black hat, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bill was <i>becoming—a chrysalist</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Muffled, smothered in a sea of emerald and opal,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down a dazzling gulf of dreams I sank and sank away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wound about with twenty thousand yards of silken rope, all<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shimmering into crimson, glimmering into grey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drowsing, waking, living, dying, just as you regards it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Buried in a sunset-cloud, or cloud of breaking day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Cording as from East or West yourself might look towards it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Losing, gaining, lost in darkness, ragged, grimy, gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">'And-cuffed, not to say<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gagged, but both my shoulders budding, sprouting white as May.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXIV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sprouting like the milky buds o' hawthorn in the night-time,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pouting like the snowy buds o' roses in July,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spreading in my chrysalist and waiting for the right time,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When—I thought—they'd bust to wings and Bill would rise and fly,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Tick, tack, tick, tack</i>, as if it came in answer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweeping o'er my head again the tide o' dreams went by,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I must get to Piddinghoe to-morrow if I can, sir,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Tick, tack</i>, a crackle in my chrysalist, a cry!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Then the warm blue sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bust the shell, and out crept Bill—a blooming butterfly!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Blue as a corn-flower, blazed the zenith: the deepening East like a scarlet poppy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Burned while, dazzled with golden bloom, white clouds like daisies, green seas like wheat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gripping the sign-post, first, I climbs, to sun my wings, which were wrinkled and floppy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Spreading 'em white o'er the words <i>No Road</i>, and hanging fast by my six black feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXVI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still on my head was the battered old beaver, but through it my clubbed antennæ slanted,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">("Feelers" yourself would probably call 'em) my battered old boots were hardly seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the golden fluff of the tail! It was Bill, sir, Bill, though highly enchanted,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Spreading his beautiful snow-white pinions, tipped with orange, and veined with green.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXVII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yus, old Bill was an Orange-tip, a spirit in glory, a blooming Psyche!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">New, it was new from East to West this rummy old world that I dreamed I knew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How can I tell you the things that I saw with my—what shall <i>I</i> call 'em?—"feelers?"—O, crikey,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"<span class="smcap">Feelers</span>?" You know how the man born blind described such colours as scarlet or blue.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXVIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Scarlet," he says, "is the sound of a trumpet, blue is a flute," for he hasn't a notion!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No, nor nobody living on earth can tell it him plain, if he hasn't the sight!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That's how it stands with ragged old Bill, a-drift and a-dream on a measureless ocean,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gifted wi' fifteen new-born senses, and seeing you blind to their new strange light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXIX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How can I tell you? Sir, you must wait, till you die like Bill, ere you understand it!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Only—I saw—the same as a bee that strikes to his hive ten leagues away—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Straight as a die, while I winked and blinked on that sun-warmed wood and my wings expanded<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Whistler drawings that men call wings)—I saw—and I flew—that's all I can say.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Flew over leagues of whispering wonder, fairy forests and flowery palaces,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Love-lorn casements, delicate kingdoms, beautiful flaming thoughts of—Him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feasts of a million blue-mailed angels lifting their honey-and-wine-brimmed chalices,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Throned upon clouds—(which you'd call white clover) down to the world's most rosiest rim.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXXI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">New and new and new and new, the white o' the cliffs and the wind in the heather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yus, and the sea-gulls flying like flakes of the sea that flashed to the new-born day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Song, song, song, song, quivering up in the wild blue weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thousands of seraphim singing together, and me just flying and—<i>knowing my way</i>.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXXII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Straight as a die to Piddinghoe's dolphin, and there I drops in a cottage garden,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There, on a sun-warmed window-sill, I winks and peeps, for the window was wide!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crumbs, he was there and fast in her arms and a-begging his poor old mother's pardon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There with his lips on her old grey hair, and her head on his breast while she laughed and cried,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXXIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>One and nine-pence that old tramp gave me, or else I should never have reached you, sonny,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Never, and you just leaving the village to-day and meaning to cross the sea,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>One and nine-pence he gave me, I paid for the farmer's lift with half o' the money!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Here's the ten-pence halfpenny, sonny, 'twill pay for our little 'ouse-warming tea.</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXXIV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Tick, tack, tick, tack</i>, out into the garden<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Toddles that old Fairy with his arm about her—so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cuddling of her still, and still a-begging of her pardon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While she says "I wish the corn-flower king could only know!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bless him, bless him, once again," she says and softly gazes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Up to heaven, a-smiling in her mutch as white as snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All among her gilly-flowers and stocks and double daisies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mignonette, forget-me-not,... Twenty years ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">All a rosy glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>This is how it was</i>, she said, <i>Twenty years ago</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span><span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXXV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once again I seemed to wake, the vision it had fled, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There I lay upon the downs: the sky was like a peach;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yus, with twelve bokays of corn-flowers blue beside my bed, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">More than usual 'andsome, so they'd bring me two-pence each.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Easy as a poet's dreams they blossomed round my head, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All I had to do was just to lift my hand and reach,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tie 'em with a bit of string, and earn my blooming bread, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Selling little nose-gays on the bare-foot Brighton beach,<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Nose-gays <i>and</i> a speech,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All about the bright blue eyes they matched on Brighton beach.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXXVI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Overhead the singing lark and underfoot the heather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Far and blue in front of us the unplumbed sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me and stick and bundle, O, we jogs along together,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Changeable the weather? Well, it ain't all pie!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weather's like a woman, sir, and if she wants to quarrel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If her eyes begin to flash and hair begins to fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You've to wait a little, then—the story has a moral—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ain't the sunny kisses all the sweeter by and bye?—<br /></span> +<span class="i16">(Crumbs, it's 'ot and dry!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thank you, sir! Thank you, sir!) the sweeter by and bye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXXVII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So the world's my sweetheart and I sort of want to squeeze 'er.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Toffs 'ull get no chance of heaven, take 'em in the lump!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never laid in hay-fields when the dawn came over-sea, sir?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Guess it's true that story 'bout the needle and the hump!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never crept into a stack because the wind was blowing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hollered out a nest and closed the door-way with a clump,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laid and heard the whisper of the silence, growing, growing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Watched a thousand wheeling stars and wondered if they'd bump?<br /></span> +<span class="i16">What I say would stump<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Joshua! But I've done it, sir. Don't think I'm off my chump.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XXXVIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If you try and lay, sir, with your face turned up to wonder,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Up to twenty million miles of stars that roll like one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Right across to God knows where, and you just huddled under<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like a little beetle with no business of his own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There you'd hear—like growing grass—a funny silent sound, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mixed with curious crackles in a steady undertone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just the sound of twenty billion stars a-going round, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yus, and you beneath 'em like a wise old ant, alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Ant upon a stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Waving of his antlers, on the Sussex downs, alone.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ON THE DOWNS</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wide-eyed our childhood roamed the world<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Knee-deep in blowing grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And watched the white clouds crisply curled<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Above the mountain-pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lay among the purple thyme<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And from its fragrance caught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strange hints from some elusive clime<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beyond the bounds of thought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Glimpses of fair forgotten things<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beyond the gates of birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half-caught from far off ancient springs<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In heaven, and half of earth;</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And coloured like a fairy-tale<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And whispering evermore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half memories from the half-fenced pale<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of lives we lived before.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here, weary of the roaring town<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A-while may I return<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while the west wind roams the down<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lie still, lie still and learn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here are green leagues of murmuring wheat<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With blue skies overhead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, all around, the winds are sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With May-bloom, white and red.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, to and fro, the bee still hums<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His low unchanging song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the same rustling whisper comes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As through the ages long:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through all the thousands of the years<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That same sweet rumour flows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With dreaming skies and gleaming tears<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kisses and the rose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once more the children throng the lanes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Themselves like flowers, to weave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their garlands and their daisy-chains<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And listen and believe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tale of <i>Once-upon-a-time</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hear the <i>Long-ago</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <i>Happy-ever-after</i> chime<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because it must be so.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And by those thousands of the years<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It is, though scarce we see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dazed with the rainbows of our tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their steadfast unity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is, or life's disjointed schemes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These stones, these ferns unfurled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With such deep care—a madman's dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were wisdom to this world!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dust into dust! Lie still and learn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hear how the ages sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The solemn joy of our return<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To that which makes the Spring:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even as we came, with childhood's trust,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wide-eyed we go, to Thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who holdest In Thy sacred dust<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The heavenly Springs to be.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>A MAY-DAY CAROL</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What is the loveliest light that Spring<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rosily parting her robe of grey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Girdled with leaflet green, can fling<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over the fields where her white feet stray?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is the merriest promise of May<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flung o'er the dew-drenched April flowers?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell me, you on the pear-tree spray—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Carol of birds between the showers</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What can life at its lightest bring<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Better than this on its brightest day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How should we fetter the white-throat's wing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wild with joy of its woodland way?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet, should love for an hour delay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Swift, while the primrose-time is ours!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is the lover's royallest lay?—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Carol of birds between the showers</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What is the murmur of bees a-swing?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What is the laugh of a child at play?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is the song that the angels sing?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Where were the tune could the sweet notes stay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Longer than this, to kiss and betray?)<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nay, on the blue sky's topmost towers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is the song of the seraphim? Say—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Carol of birds between the showers.</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thread the stars on a silver string,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(So did they sing in Bethlehem's bowers!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mirth for a little one, grief for a king,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Carol of birds between the showers</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE CALL OF THE SPRING</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, choose your road and away, my lad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come, choose your road and away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll out of the town by the road's bright crown<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As it dips to the dazzling day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's a long white road for the weary;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But it rolls through the heart of the May.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though many a road would merrily ring<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the tramp of your marching feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All roads are one from the day that's done,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the miles are swift and sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the graves of your friends are the mile-stones<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the land where all roads meet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the call that you hear this day, my lad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is the Spring's old bugle of mirth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the year's green fire in a soul's desire<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is brought like a rose to the birth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And knights ride out to adventure<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the flowers break out of the earth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Over the sweet-smelling mountain-passes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The clouds lie brightly curled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wild-flowers cling to the crags and swing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With cataract-dews impearled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the way, the way that you choose this day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is the way to the end of the world.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It rolls from the golden long ago<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the land that we ne'er shall find;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it's uphill here, but it's downhill there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the road is wise and kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all rough places and cheerless faces<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will soon be left behind.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, choose your road and away, away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We'll follow the gipsy sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it's soon, too soon to the end of the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the day is well begun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the road rolls on through the heart of the May,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there's never a May but one.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There's a fir-wood here, and a dog-rose there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a note of the mating dove;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a glimpse, maybe, of the warm blue sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the warm white clouds above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And warm to your breast in a tenderer nest<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your sweetheart's little glove.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There's not much better to win, my lad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There's not much better to win!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have lived, you have loved, you have fought, you have proved<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The worth of folly and sin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So now come out of the City's rout,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come out of the dust and the din.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come out,—a bundle and stick is all<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You'll need to carry along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If your heart can carry a kindly word,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And your lips can carry a song;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You may leave the lave to the keep o' the grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If your lips can carry a song!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Come, choose your road and away, my lad,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Come, choose your road and away!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>We'll out of the town by the road's bright crown,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As it dips to the sapphire day!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>All roads may meet at the world's end,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>But, hey for the heart of the May!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Come, choose your road and away, dear lad,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Come choose your road and away.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> +<h2>A DEVONSHIRE DITTY</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In a leafy lane of Devon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There's a cottage that I know,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Then a garden—then, a grey old crumbling wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the wall's the wall of heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Where I hardly care to go)<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And there isn't any fiery sword at all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But I never went to heaven.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There was right good reason why,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For they sent a shining angel to me there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An angel, down in Devon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Clad in muslin by the bye)<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With the halo of the sunshine on her hair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, whate'er the darkness covers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And whate'er we sing or say,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Would you climb the wall of heaven an hour too soon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you knew a place for lovers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where the apple-blossoms stray<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Out of heaven to sway and whisper to the moon?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When we die—we'll think of Devon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where the garden's all aglow<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With the flowers that stray across the grey old wall:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then we'll climb it, out of heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the other side, you know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Straggle over it from heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the apple-blossom snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tumble back again to Devon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Laugh and love as long ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where there isn't any fiery sword at all.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> +<h2>BACCHUS AND THE PIRATES</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Half a hundred terrible pig-tails, pirates famous in song and story,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hoisting the old black flag once more, in a palmy harbour of Caribbee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Farewell" we waved to our brown-skinned lasses, and chorussing out to the billows of glory,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Billows a-glitter with rum and gold, we followed the sunset over the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>While earth goes round, let rum go round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Our capstan song we sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred broad-sheet pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sea-roads plated with pieces of eight that rolled to a heaven by rum made mellow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heaved and coloured our barque's black nose where the Lascar sang to a twinkling star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the tangled bow-sprit plunged and dipped its point in the west's wild red and yellow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till the curved white moon crept out astern like a naked knife from a blue cymar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6"><i>While earth goes round, let rum go round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Our capstan song we sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Half a hundred terrible pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Half a hundred tarry pig-tails, Teach, the chewer of glass, had taught us,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Taught us to balance the plank ye walk, your little plank-bridge to Kingdom Come:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half a score had sailed with Flint, and a dozen or so the devil had brought us<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Back from the pit where Blackbeard lay, in Beelzebub's bosom, a-screech for rum.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>While earth goes round, let rum go round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Our capstan song we sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred piping pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was Captain Hook (of whom ye have heard—so called from his terrible cold steel twister,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His own right hand having gone to a shark with a taste for skippers on pirate-trips),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was Silver himself, with his cruel crutch, and the blind man Pew, with a phiz like a blister,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gouged and white and dreadfully dried in the reek of a thousand burning ships.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>While earth goes round, let rum go round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Our capstan song we sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred cut-throat pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With our silver buckles and French cocked hats and our skirted coats (they were growing greener,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But green and gold look well when spliced! We'd trimmed 'em up wi' some fine fresh lace)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bravely over the seas we danced to the horn-pipe tune of a concertina,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cutlasses jetting beneath our skirts and cambric handkerchiefs all in place.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>While earth goes round, let rum go round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Our capstan song we sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred elegant pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And our black prow grated, one golden noon, on the happiest isle of the Happy Islands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An isle of Paradise, fair as a gem, on the sparkling breast of the wine-dark deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An isle of blossom and yellow sand, and enchanted vines on the purple highlands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' grapes like melons, nay clustering suns, a-sprawl over cliffs in their noonday sleep.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>While earth goes round let rum go round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Our capstan song we sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred dream-struck pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And lo! on the soft warm edge of the sand, where the sea like wine in a golden noggin<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Creamed, and the rainbow-bubbles clung to his flame-red hair, a white youth lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleeping; and now, as his drowsy grip relaxed, the cup that he squeezed his grog in<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Slipped from his hand and its purple dregs were mixed with the flames and flakes of spray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>While earth goes round, let rum go round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Our capstan song we sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred diffident pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And we suddenly saw (had we seen them before? They were coloured like sand or the pelt on his shoulders)<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His head was pillowed on two great leopards, whose breathing rose and sank with his own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now a pirate is bold, but the vision was rum and would <i>call</i> for rum in the best of beholders,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And it seemed we had seen Him before, in a dream, with that flame-red hair and that vine-leaf crown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>And the earth went round, and the rum went round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>And softlier now we sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred awe-struck pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now Timothy Hook (of whom ye have heard, with his talon of steel) our doughty skipper,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A man that, in youth being brought up pious, had many a book on his cabin-shelf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suddenly caught at a comrade's hand with the tearing claws of his cold steel flipper<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And cried, "Great Thunder and Brimstone, boys, I've hit it at last! <i>'Tis Bacchus himself.</i>"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>And the earth went round, and the rum went round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>And never a word we sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred tottering pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He flung his French cocked hat i' the foam (though its lace was the best of his wearing apparel):<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We stared at him—Bacchus! The sea reeled round like a wine-vat splashing with purple dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the sunset-skies were dashed with blood of the grape as the sun like a new-staved barrel<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flooded the tumbling West with wine and spattered the clouds with crimson gleams.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>And the earth went round, and our heads went round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>And never a word we sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred staggering pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down to the ship for a fishing-net our crafty Hook sent Silver leaping;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Back he came on his pounding crutch, for all the world like a kangaroo;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we caught the net and up to the Sleeper on hands and knees we all went creeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flung it across him and staked it down! 'Twas the best of our dreams and the dream was true.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>And the earth went round, and the rum went round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>And loudly now we sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred jubilant pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We had caught our god, and we got him aboard ere he woke (he was more than a little heavy);<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Glittering, beautiful, flushed he lay in the lurching bows of the old black barque,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the sunset died and the white moon dawned, and we saw on the island a star-bright bevy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of naked Bacchanals stealing to watch through the whispering vines in the purple dark!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>While earth goes round, let rum go round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Our capstan song we sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred innocent pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beautiful under the sailing moon, in the tangled net, with the leopards beside him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Snared like a wild young red-lipped merman, wilful, petulant, flushed he lay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Silver and Hook in their big sea-boots and their boat-cloaks guarded and gleefully eyed him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thinking what Bacchus might do for a seaman, like standing him drinks, as a man might say.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>While earth goes round, let rum go round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>We sailed away and sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred fanciful pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All the grog that ever was heard of, gods, was it stowed in our sure possession?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O, the pictures that broached the skies and poured their colours across our dreams!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, the thoughts that tapped the sunset, and rolled like a great torchlight procession<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down our throats in a glory of glories, a roaring splendour of golden streams!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>And the earth went round, and the stars went round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>As we hauled the sheets and sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred infinite pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beautiful, white, at the break of day, He woke and, the net in a smoke dissolving,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He rose like a flame, with his yellow-eyed pards and his flame-red hair like a windy dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the crew kept back, respectful like, till the leopards advanced with their eyes revolving,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then up the rigging went Silver and Hook, and the rest of us followed with case-knives drawn.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>While earth goes round, let rum go round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Our cross-tree song we sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred terrified pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And "Take me home to my happy island!" he says. "Not I," sings Hook, "by thunder;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We'll take you home to a happier isle, our palmy harbour of Caribbee!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"You won't!" says Bacchus, and quick as a dream the planks of the deck just heaved asunder,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a mighty Vine came straggling up that grew from the depths of the wine-dark sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>And the sea went round, and the skies went round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>As our cross-tree song we sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred horrified pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We were anchored fast as an oak on land, and the branches clutched and the tendrils quickened,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bound us writhing like snakes to the spars! Ay, we hacked with our knives at the boughs in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Bacchus laughed loud on the decks below, as ever the tough sprays tightened and thickened,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the blazing hours went by, and we gaped with thirst and our ribs were racked with pain<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>And the skies went round, and the sea swam round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>And we knew not what we sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred lunatic pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bunch upon bunch of sunlike grapes, as we writhed and struggled and raved and strangled,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bunch upon bunch of gold and purple daubed its bloom on our baked black lips.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clustering grapes, O, bigger than pumpkins, just out of reach they bobbed and dangled<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over the vine-entangled sails of that most dumbfounded of pirate ships!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>And the sun went round, and the moon came round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>And mocked us where we hung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred maniac pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Over the waters the white moon winked its bruised old eye at our bowery prison,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When suddenly we were aware of a light such as never a moon or a ship's lamp throws,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a shallop of pearl, like a Nautilus shell, came shimmering up as by magic arisen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With sails: of silk and a glory around it that turned the sea to a rippling rose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>And our heads went round, and the stars went round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>At the song that cruiser sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred goggle-eyed pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Half a hundred rose-white Bacchanals hauled the ropes of that rosy cruiser!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over the seas they came and laid their little white hands on the old black barque;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Bacchus he ups and he steps aboard: "Hi, stop!" cries Hook, "you frantic old boozer!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Belay, below there, don't you go and leave poor pirates to die in the dark!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>And the moon went round, and the stars went round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>As they all pushed off and sung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Half a hundred ribbonless Bacchanals</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Over the seas they went and Bacchus he stands, with his yellow-eyed leopards beside him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">High on the poop of rose and pearl, and kisses his hand to us, pleasant as pie!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the Bacchanals danced to their tambourines, and the vine-leaves flew, and Hook just eyed him<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Once, as a man that was brought up pious, and scornfully hollers, "<i>Well, you ain't shy!</i>"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>For all around him, vine-leaf crowned,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>The wild white Bacchanals flung!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Nor it wasn't a sight for respectable pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All around that rainbow-Nautilus rippled the bloom of a thousand roses,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nay, but the sparkle of fairy sea-nymphs breasting a fairy-like sea of wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swimming around it in murmuring thousands, with white arms tossing; till—all that <i>we</i> knows is<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The light went out, and the night was dark, and the grapes had burst and their juice was—brine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>And the vines that bound our bodies round</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Were plain wet ropes that clung,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Squeezing the light out o' fifty pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Over the seas in the pomp of dawn a king's ship came with her proud flag flying.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cloud upon cloud we watched her tower with her belts and her crowded zones of sail;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And an A.B. perched in a white crow's nest, with a brass-rimmed spy-glass quietly spying,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As we swallowed the lumps in our choking throats and uttered our last faint feeble hail!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>And our heads went round as the ship went round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>And we thought how coves had swung:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>All for playing at broad-sheet pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Half a hundred trembling corsairs, all cut loose, but a trifle giddy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We lands on their trim white decks at last and the bo'sun he whistles us good hot grog,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we tries to confess, but there wasn't a soul from the Admiral's self to the gold-laced middy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But says, "They're delirious still, poor chaps," and the Cap'n he enters the fact in his log,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>That his boat's crew found us nearly drowned</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>In a barrel without a bung—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Half a hundred suffering sea-cooks</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So we sailed by Execution Dock, where the swinging pirates haughty and scornful<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rattled their chains, and on Margate beach we came like a school-treat safe to land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one of us took to religion at once; and the rest of the crew, tho' their hearts were mournful,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Capered about as Christy Minstrels, while Hook conducted the big brass band.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>And the sun went round, and the moon went round,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>And, O, 'twas a thought that stung!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>There was none to believe we were broad-sheet pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, yet (if ye stand me a noggin of rum) shall the old Blue Dolphin echo the story!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We'll hoist the white cross-bones again in our palmy harbour of Caribbee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll wave farewell to our brown-skinned lasses and, chorussing out to the billows of glory,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Billows a-glitter with rum and gold, we'll follow the sunset over the sea!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>While earth goes round, let rum go round!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>O, sing it as we sung!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Half a hundred terrible pirates</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>When the world was young!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE NEWSPAPER BOY</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Elf of the City, a lean little hollow-eyed boy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ragged and tattered, but lithe as a slip of the Spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the lamp-light he runs with a reckless joy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shouting a murderer's doom or the death of a King.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out of the darkness he leaps like a wild strange hint,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Herald of tragedy, comedy, crime and despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waving a poster that hurls you, in fierce black print<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One word <i>Mystery</i>, under the lamp's white glare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Elf of the night of the City he darts with his crew<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out of a vaporous furnace of colour that wreathes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Magical letters a-flicker from crimson to blue<br /></span> +<span class="i2">High overhead. All round him the mad world seethes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hansoms, like cantering beetles, with diamond eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Run through the moons of it; busses in yellow and red<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoot; and St. Paul's is a bubble afloat in the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Watching the pale moths flit and the dark death's head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Painted and powdered they shimmer and rustle and stream<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Westward, the night moths, masks of the Magdalen! See,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Puck of the revels, he leaps through the sinister dream<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Waving his elfin evangel of <i>Mystery</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Puck of the bubble or dome of their scoffing or trust,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Puck of the fairy-like tower with the clock in its face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Puck of an Empire that whirls on a pellet of dust<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bearing his elfin device thro' the splendours of space.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Mystery</i>—is it the scribble of doom on the dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin, again?<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Mystery</i>—is it a scrap of remembrance, a spark<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Burning still in the fog of a blind world's brain?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Elf of the gossamer tangles of shadow and light,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wild electrical webs and the battle that rolls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">League upon perishing league thro' the ravenous night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Breaker on perishing breaker of human souls.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Soaked in the colours, a flake of the flying spray<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flung over wreckage and yeast of the murderous town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Onward he flaunts it, innocent, vicious and gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Prophet of prayers that are stifled and loves that drown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Urchin and sprat of the City that roars like a sea<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Surging around him in hunger and splendour and shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cruelty, luxury, madness, he leaps in his glee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out of the mazes of mist and the vistas of flame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ragged and tattered he scurries away in the gloom:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over the thundering traffic a moment his cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mystery! Mystery!—reckless of death and doom<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rings; and the great wheels roll and the world goes by.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lost, is it lost, that hollow-eyed flash of the light?—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Poor little face flying by with the word that saves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale little mouth of the mask of the measureless night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shrilling the heart of it, lost like the foam on its waves!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE TWO WORLDS</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This outer world is but the pictured scroll<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of worlds within the soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A coloured chart, a blazoned missal-book<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whereon who rightly look<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May spell the splendours with their mortal eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And steer to Paradise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, well for him that knows and early knows<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In his own soul the rose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Secretly burgeons, of this earthly flower<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The heavenly paramour:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all these fairy dreams of green-wood fern,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These waves that break and yearn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shadows and hieroglyphs, hills, clouds and seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Faces and flowers and trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Terrestrial picture-parables, relate<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each to its heavenly mate.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, well for him that finds in sky and sea<br /></span> +<span class="i8">This two-fold mystery,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And loses not (as painfully he spells<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The fine-spun syllables)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cadences, the burning inner gleam,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The poet's heavenly dream.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well for the poet if this earthly chart<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Be printed in his heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When to his world of spirit woods and seas<br /></span> +<span class="i8">With eager face he flees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And treads the untrodden fields of unknown flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And threads the angelic bowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hears that unheard nightingale whose moan<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Trembles within his own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lovers murmuring in the leafy lanes<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Of his own joys and pains.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For though he voyages further than the flight<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Of earthly day and night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Traversing to the sky's remotest ends<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A world that he transcends,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Safe, he shall hear the hidden breakers roar<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Against the mystic shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall roam the yellow sands where sirens bare<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Their breasts and wind their hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall with their perfumed tresses blind his eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And still possess the skies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He, where the deep unearthly jungles are,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Beneath his Eastern star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall pass the tawny lion in his den<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And cross the quaking fen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He learnt his path (and treads it undefiled)<br /></span> +<span class="i8">When, as a little child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He bent his head with long and loving looks<br /></span> +<span class="i8">O'er earthly picture-books.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His earthly love nestles against his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">His young celestial guide.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> +<h2>GORSE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Between my face and the warm blue sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crisp white clouds go sailing by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the only sound is the sound of your breathing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The song of a bird and the sea's long sigh.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here, on the downs, as a tale re-told<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sprays of the gorse are a-blaze with gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As of old, on the sea-washed hills of my boyhood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathing the same sweet scent as of old.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under a ragged golden spray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The great sea sparkles far away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beautiful, bright, as my heart remembers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Many a dazzle of waves in May.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Long ago as I watched them shine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the boughs of fir and pine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here I watch them to-day and wonder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, with my love's hand warm in mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The soft wings pass that we used to chase,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dreams that I dreamed had left not a trace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The same, the same, with the bars of crimson<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The green-veined white, with its floating grace,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The same to the least bright fleck on their wings!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I close my eyes, and a lost bird sings,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a far sea sighs, and the old sweet fragrance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wraps me round with the dear dead springs,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wraps me round with the springs to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When lovers that think not of you or me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Laugh, but our eyes will be closed in darkness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Closed to the sky and the gorse and the sea,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the same great glory of ragged gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once more, once more, as a tale re-told<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall whisper their hearts with the same sweet fragrance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And their warm hands cling, as of old, as of old.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dead and un-born, the same blue skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cover us! Love, as I read your eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Do I not know whose love enfolds us,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As we fold the past in our memories,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Past, present, future, the old and the new?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the depths of the grave a cry breaks through<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And trembles, a sky-lark blind in the azure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The depths of the all-enfolding blue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, resurrection of folded years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep in our hearts, with your smiles and tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dead and un-born shall not He remember<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who folds our cry in His heart, and hears.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>FOR THE EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY OF GEORGE MEREDITH</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A health, a ringing health, unto the king<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of all our hearts to-day! But what proud song<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Should follow on the thought, nor do him wrong?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Except the sea were harp, each mirthful string<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lovely lightning of the nights of Spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Dawn the lonely listener, glad and grave<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With colours of the sea-shell and the wave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In brightening eye and cheek, there is none to sing!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Drink to him, as men upon an Alpine peak<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Brim one immortal cup of crimson wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And into it drop one pure cold crust of snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then hold it up, too rapturously to speak<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drink—to the mountains, line on glittering line,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Surging away into the sunset-glow.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> +<h2>IN MEMORY OF SWINBURNE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">April from shore to shore, from sea to sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">April in heaven and on the springing spray<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Buoyant with birds that sing to welcome May<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And April in those eyes that mourn for thee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"This is my singing month; my hawthorn tree<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Burgeons once more," we seemed to hear thee say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"This is my singing month: my fingers stray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the lute. What shall the music be?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And April answered with too great a song<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For mortal lips to sing or hearts to hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heard only of that high invisible throng<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For whom thy song makes April all the year!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My singing month, what bringest thou?" Her breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swooned with all music, and she answered—"Death."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, but on earth,—"can'st thou, too, die,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Low she whispers, "lover of mine?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">April, queen over earth and sky<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whispers, her trembling lashes shine:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Wings of the sea, good-bye, good-bye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down to the dim sea-line."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Home to the heart of thine old-world lover,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Home to thy "fair green-girdled" sea!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There shall thy soul with the sea-birds hover,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Free of the deep as their wings are free;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Free, for the grave-flowers only cover<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This, the dark cage of thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thee, the storm-bird, nightingale-souled,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Brother of Sappho, the seas reclaim!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Age upon age have the great waves rolled<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mad with her music, exultant, aflame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee, thee too, shall their glory enfold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lit with thy snow-winged fame.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Back, thro' the years, fleets the sea-bird's wing:<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Sappho, of old time, once</i>,—ah, hark!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So did he love her of old and sing!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Listen, he flies to her, back thro' the dark!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Sappho, of old time, once</i>.... Yea, Spring<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Calls him home to her, hark!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Sappho, long since, in the years far sped,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Sappho, I loved thee!</i> Did I not seem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fosterling only of earth? I have fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fled to thee, sister. Time is a dream!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shelley is here with us! Death lies dead!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah, how the bright waves gleam.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wide was the cage-door, idly swinging;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">April touched me and whispered "Come."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out and away to the great deep winging,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sister, I flashed to thee over the foam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out to the sea of Eternity, singing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Mother, thy child comes home."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, but how shall we welcome May<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here where the wing of song droops low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here by the last green swinging spray<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Brushed by the sea-bird's wings of snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We that gazed on his glorious way<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out where the great winds blow?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Here upon earth—"can'st thou, too, die,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Lover of life and lover of mine?"</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>April, conquering earth and sky</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Whispers, her trembling lashes shine:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>"Wings of the sea, good-bye, good-bye,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Down to the dim sea-line."</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> +<h2>ON THE DEATH OF FRANCIS THOMPSON</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How grandly glow the bays<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Purpureally enwound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With those rich thorns, the brows<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How infinitely crowned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That now thro' Death's dark house<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Have passed with royal gaze:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purpureally enwound<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How grandly glow the bays.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweet, sweet and three-fold sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pulsing with three-fold pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the lark fails of flight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soared the celestial strain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the sapphire height<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flew the gold-wingèd feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beautiful, pierced with pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet, sweet and three-fold sweet;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And where <i>Is not</i> and <i>Is</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are wed in one sweet Name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the world's rootless vine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With dew of stars a-flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laughs, from those deep divine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Impossibilities,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our reason all to shame—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>This cannot be, but is;</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Into the Vast, the Deep<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beyond all mortal sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Nothingness that conceived<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The worlds of day and night,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Nothingness that heaved<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pure sides in virgin sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brought out of Darkness, light;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And man from out the Deep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Into that Mystery<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let not thine hand be thrust:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nothingness is a world<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy science well may trust ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lo, a leaf unfurled,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nay, a cry mocking thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the first grain of dust—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>I am, yet cannot be!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Adventuring un-afraid<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into that last deep shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must not the child-heart see<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Its deepest symbol shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world's Birth-mystery,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whereto the suns are shade?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, the white breast divine—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The holy Mother-maid!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How miss that Sacrifice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That cross of Yea and Nay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That paradox of heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose palms point either way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through each a nail being driven<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That the arms out-span the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And our earth-dust this day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out-sweeten Paradise.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We part the seamless robe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our wisdom would divide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The raiment of the King,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our spear is in His side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even while the angels sing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Around our perishing globe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Death re-knits in pride<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The seamless purple robe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>How grandly glow the bays</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Purpureally enwound</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>With those rich thorns, the brows</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>How infinitely crowned</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>That now thro' Death's dark house</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Have passed with royal gaze:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Purpureally enwound</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>How grandly glow the bays.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>IN MEMORY OF MEREDITH</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High on the mountains, who stands proudly, clad with the light of May,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rich as the dawn, deep-hearted as night, diamond-bright as day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, while the slopes of the beautiful valley throb with our muffled tread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, with the hill-flowers wound in her tresses, welcomes our deathless dead?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is it not she whom he sought so long thro' the high lawns dewy and sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up thro' the crags and the glittering snows faint-flushed with her rosy feet,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it not she—the queen of our night—crowned by the unseen sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Artemis, she that can see the light, when light upon earth is none?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Huntress, queen of the dark of the world (no darker at night than noon)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beauty immortal and undefiled, the Eternal sun's white moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only by thee and thy silver shafts for a flash can our hearts discern,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pierced to the quick, the love, the love that still thro' the dark doth yearn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What to his soul were the hill-flowers, what the gold at the break of day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shot thro' the red-stemmed firs to the lake where the swimmer clove his way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What were the quivering harmonies showered from the heaven-tossed heart of the lark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Artemis, Huntress, what were these but thy keen shafts cleaving the dark?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Frost of the hedge-row, flash of the jasmine, sparkle of dew on the leaf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seas lit wide by the summer lightning, shafts from thy diamond sheaf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deeply they pierced him, deeply he loved thee, now has he found thy soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Artemis, thine, in this bridal peal, where we hear but the death-bell toll.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE TESTIMONY OF ART</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As earth, sad earth, thrusts many a gloomy cape<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into the sea's bright colour and living glee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So do we strive to embay that mystery<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which earthly hands must ever let escape;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Word we seek for is the golden shape<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That shall enshrine the Soul we cannot see,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A temporal chalice of Eternity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purple with beating blood of the hallowed grape.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once was it wine and sacramental bread<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whereby we knew the power that through Him smiled<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When, in one still small utterance, He hurled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Eternities beneath His feet and said<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With lips, O meek as any little child,<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE SCHOLARS</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where is the scholar whose clear mind can hold<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The floral text of one sweet April mead?—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The flowing lines, which few can spell indeed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though most will note the scarlet and the gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around the flourishing capitals grandly scrolled;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But ah, the subtle cadences that need<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lover's heart, the lover's heart to read,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ah, the songs unsung, the tales untold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Poor fools-capped scholars—grammar keeps us close,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The primers thrall us, and our eyes grow dim:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When will old Master Science hear the call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bid us run free with life in every limb<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To breathe the poems and hear the last red rose<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Gossiping over God's grey garden-wall?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> +<h2>RESURRECTION</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once more I hear the everlasting sea<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Breathing beneath the mountain's fragrant breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Come unto Me, come unto Me,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And I will give you rest.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We have destroyed the Temple and in three days<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He hath rebuilt it—all things are made new:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hark what wild throats pour His praise<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beneath the boundless blue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We plucked down all His altars, cried aloud<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gashed ourselves for little gods of clay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yon floating cloud was but a cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The May no more than May.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We plucked down all His altars, left not one<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Save where, perchance (and ah, the joy was fleet),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We laid our garlands in the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At the white Sea-born's feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We plucked down all His altars, not to make<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The small praise greater, but the great praise less,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We sealed all fountains where the soul could slake<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Its thirst and weariness.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Love" was too small, too human to be found<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In that transcendent source whence love was born:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We talked of "forces": heaven was crowned<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With philosophic thorn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your God is in your image," we cried, but O,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twas only man's own deepest heart ye gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knowing that He transcended all ye know,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While we—we dug His grave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Denied Him even the crown on our own brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">E'en these poor symbols of His loftier reign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Levelled His Temple with the dust, and now<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He is risen, He is risen again,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Risen, like this resurrection of the year,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This grand ascension of the choral spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which those harp-crowded heavens bend to hear<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And meet upon the wing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He is dead," we cried, and even amid that gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The wintry veil was rent! The new-born day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Showed us the Angel seated in the tomb<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the stone rolled away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is the hour! We challenge heaven above<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now, to deny our slight ephemeral breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joy, anguish, and that everlasting love<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which triumphs over death.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>A JAPANESE LOVE-SONG</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The young moon is white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But the willows are blue:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your small lips are red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But the great clouds are grey:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waves are so many<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That whisper to you;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But my love is only<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One flight of spray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bright drops are many,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The dark wave is one:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dark wave subsides,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the bright sea remains!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wherever, O singing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Maid, you may run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You are one with the world<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For all your pains.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though the great skies are dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And your small feet are white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though your wide eyes are blue<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the closed poppies red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' the kisses are many<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That colour the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are linked like pearls<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On one golden thread.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Were the grey clouds not made<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the red of your mouth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ages for flight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the butterfly years;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sweet of the peach<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the pale lips of drouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sunlight of smiles<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the shadow of tears?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Love, Love is the thread<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That has pierced them with bliss!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All their hues are but notes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In one world-wide tune:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lips, willows, and waves,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We are one as we kiss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And your face and the flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Faint away in the moon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<h3>THE TWO PAINTERS</h3> + +<h4>(A TALE OF OLD JAPAN.)</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yoichi Tenko, the painter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dwelt by the purple sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Painting the peacock islands<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Under his willow-tree:</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Also in temples he painted<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dragons of old Japan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a child to look at the pictures—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little O Kimi San.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kimi, the child of his brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bright as the moon in May,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White as a lotus lily,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pink as a plum-tree spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Linking her soft arm round him<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sang to his heart for an hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kissed him with ripples of laughter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lips of the cherry flower.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Child of the old pearl-fisher<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lost in his junk at sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kimi was loved of Tenko<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As his own child might be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yoichi Tenko the painter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wrinkled and grey and old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Teacher of many disciples<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That paid for his dreams with gold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Peonies, peonies crowned the May!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clad in blue and white array<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came Sawara to the school<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the silvery willow-tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All to learn of Tenko!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Riding on a milk-white mule,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Young and poor and proud was he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lissom as a cherry spray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Peonies, peonies, crowned the day!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he rode the golden way<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the school of Tenko.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swift to learn, beneath his hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon he watched his wonderland<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Growing cloud by magic cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the silvery willow-tree<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the school of Tenko:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kimi watched him, young and proud,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Painting by the purple sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lying on the golden sand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watched his golden wings expand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(None but Love will understand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All she hid from Tenko.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He could paint her tree and flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sea and spray and wizard's tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With one stroke, now hard, now soft,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the silvery willow-tree<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the school of Tenko:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He could fling a bird aloft,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Splash a dragon in the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crown a princess in her bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With one stroke of magic power;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she watched him, hour by hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the school of Tenko.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yoichi Tenko, wondering, scanned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the work of that young hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gazed his kakemonos o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the silvery willow-tree<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the school of Tenko:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I can teach you nothing more,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thought or craft or mystery;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let your golden wings expand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They will shadow half the land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the world's at your command,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come no more to Tenko."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Lying on the golden sand,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Kimi watched his wings expand;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Wept.—He could not understand</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Why she wept, said Tenko.</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So, in her blue kimono,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pale as the sickle moon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glimmered thro' soft plum-branches<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blue in the dusk of June,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stole she, willing and waning,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frightened and unafraid,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Take me with you, Sawara,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over the sea," she said.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Small and sadly beseeching,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Under the willow-tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glimmered her face like a foam-flake<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drifting over the sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale as a drifting blossom,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lifted her face to his eyes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly he gathered and held her<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Under the drifting skies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Poor little face cast backward,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Better to see his own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth and heaven went past them<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drifting: they two, alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood, immortal. He whispered—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Nothing can part us two!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Backward her sad little face went<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drifting, and dreamed it true.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Others are happy," she murmured,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Maidens and men I have seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You are my king, Sawara,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O, let me be your queen!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I am all too lowly,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sadly she strove to smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Let me follow your footsteps,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your slave for a little while."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Surely, he thought, I have painted<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nothing so fair as this<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moonlit almond blossom<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet to fold and kiss,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brow that is filled with music,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shell of a faery sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eyes like the holy violets<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Brimmed with dew for me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wait for Sawara," he whispered,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Does not his whole heart yearn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now to his moon-bright maiden?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wait, for he will return<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rich as the wave on the moon's path<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rushing to claim his bride!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So they plighted their promise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the ebbing sea-wave sighed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Moon and flower and butterfly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth and heaven went drifting by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Three long years while Kimi dreamed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the silvery willow-tree<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the school of Tenko,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Steadfast while the whole world streamed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Past her tow'rds Eternity;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Steadfast till with one great cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ringing to the gods on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Golden wings should blind the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bring him back to Tenko.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three long years and nought to say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sweet, I come the golden way,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Riding royally to the school<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the silvery willow-tree<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Claim my bride of Tenko;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silver bells on a milk-white mule,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rose-red sails on an emerald sea!" ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kimi sometimes went to pray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the temple nigh the bay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dreamed all night and gazed all day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over the sea from Tenko.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far away his growing fame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lit the clouds. No message came<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the sky, whereon she gazed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the silvery willow-tree<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Far away from Tenko!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Small white hands in the temple raised<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pleaded with the Mystery,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Stick of incense in the flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though my love forget my name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Help him, bless him, all the same,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ... bring him back to Tenko!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Rose-white temple nigh the bay,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Hush! for Kimi comes to pray,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Dream all night and gaze all day</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Over the sea from Tenko.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So, when the rich young merchant<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Showed him his bags of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yoichi Tenko, the painter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gave him her hand to hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said: "You shall wed him, O Kimi."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Softly he lied and smiled—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>Yea, for Sawara is wedded!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Let him not mock you, child.</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dumbly she turned and left them,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Never a word or cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broke from her lips' grey petals<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Under the drifting sky:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down to the spray and the rainbows,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where she had watched him of old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Painting the rose-red islands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Painting the sand's wet gold,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down to their dreams of the sunset,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frail as a flower's white ghost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lonely and lost she wandered<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down to the darkening coast;</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lost in the drifting midnight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Weeping, desolate, blind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Many went out to seek her:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Never a heart could find.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yoichi Tenko, the painter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Plucked from his willow-tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two big paper lanterns<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ran to the brink of the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over his head he held them,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Crying, and only heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Somewhere, out in the darkness,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The cry of a wandering bird.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Peonies, peonies thronged the May<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When in royal-rich array<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came Sawara to the school<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the silvery willow-tree—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the school of Tenko!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silver bells on a milk-white mule,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rose-red sails on an emerald sea!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the bloom of the cherry spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peonies, peonies dimmed the day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he rode the royal way<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Back to Yoichi Tenko.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yoichi Tenko, half afraid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whispered, "Wed some other maid;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Kimi left me all alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the silvery willow-tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Left me," whispered Tenko,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Kimi had a heart of stone!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Kimi, Kimi? Who is she?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kimi? Ah—the child that played<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round the willow-tree. She prayed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Often; and, whate'er I said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She believed it, Tenko."</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He had come to paint anew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those dim isles of rose and blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a palace far away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the silvery willow-tree—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So he said to Tenko;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he painted, day by day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Golden visions of the sea.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, he had not come to woo;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, had Kimi proven true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubtless he had loved her too,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hardly less than Tenko.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Since the thought was in his head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He would make his choice and wed;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a lovely maid he chose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the silvery willow-tree.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Fairer far," said Tenko.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Kimi had a twisted nose,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a foot too small, for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her face was dull as lead!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay, a flower, be it white or red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Is</i> a flower," Sawara said!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"So it is," said Tenko.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Great Sawara, the painter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sought, on a day of days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of the peacock islands<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out in the sunset haze:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose-red sails on the water<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Carried him quickly nigh;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There would he paint him a wonder<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Worthy of Hokusai.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, as he leapt o'er the creaming<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Roses of faery foam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the green-lipped caverns<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Under the isle's blue dome,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">White as a drifting snow-flake,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">White as the moon's white flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White as a ghost from the darkness,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little O Kimi came.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Long I have waited, Sawara,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here in our sunset isle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sawara, Sawara, Sawara,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Look on me once, and smile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Face I have watched so long for,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hands I have longed to hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sawara, Sawara, Sawara,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why is your heart so cold?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Surely, he thought, I have painted<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nothing so fair as this<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moonlit almond blossom<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet to fold and kiss....<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Kimi," he said, "I am wedded!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hush, for it could not be!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Kiss me one kiss," she whispered,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Me also, even me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Small and terribly drifting<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Backward, her sad white face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifted up to Sawara<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Once, in that lonely place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White as a drifting blossom<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Under his wondering eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly he gathered and held her<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Under the drifting skies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Others are happy," she whispered,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Maidens and men I have seen:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be happy, be happy, Sawara!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The other—shall be—your queen!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kiss me one kiss for parting."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Trembling she lifted her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then like a broken blossom<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It fell on his arm. She was dead.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Much impressed, Sawara straight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Though the hour was growing late)<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Made a sketch of Kimi lying<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the lonely, sighing sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Brought it back to Tenko.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tenko looked it over crying<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Under the silvery willow-tree).<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"You have burst the golden gate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have conquered Time and Fate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hokusai is not so great!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This is Art," said Tenko!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<h3>THE ENCHANTED ISLAND</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I remember—<br /></span> +<span class="i12">a breath, a breath<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blown thro' the rosy gates of birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A morning freshness not of the earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But cool and strange and lovely as death<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In Paradise, in Paradise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, all to suffer the old sweet pain<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Closing his immortal eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wonder-wild an angel lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With wings of rainbow-tinctured grain<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Withering till—ah, wonder-wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here on the dawning earth again<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He wakes, a little child.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I remember—<br /></span> +<span class="i12">a gleam, a gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of sparkling waves and warm blue sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far away and long ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or ever I knew that youth could die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And out of the dawn, the dawn, the dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the unknown life we sailed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As out of sleep into a dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as with elfin cables drawn</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">In dusk of purple over the glowing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrinkled measureless emerald sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The light cloud shadows larger far<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than the sweet shapes which drew them on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Elfin exquisite shadows flowing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between us and the morning star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chased us all a summer's day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And our sail like a dew-lit blossom shone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till, over a rainbow haze of spray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That arched a reef of surf like snow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">—Far away and long ago—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We saw the sky-line rosily engrailed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With tufted peaks above a smooth lagoon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which growing, growing, growing as we sailed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Curved all around them like a crescent moon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then we saw the purple-shadowed creeks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The feathery palms, the gleaming golden streaks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sand, and nearer yet, like jewels of fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Streaming between the boughs, or floating higher<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like tiny sunset-clouds in noon-day skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The birds of Paradise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The island floated in the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Its image floated in the sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which was the shadow? Both were fair:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like sister souls they seemed to be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one was dreaming and asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And one bent down from Paradise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To kiss with radiance in the deep<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The darkling lips and eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, mingling softly in their dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That holy kiss of sea and sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Transfused the shadows and the gleams<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of Time and of Eternity:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dusky face looked up and gave<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To heaven its golden shadowed calm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The face of light fulfilled the wave<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With blissful wings and fans of palm.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Above, the tufted rosy peaks<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That melted in the warm blue skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Below, the purple-shadowed creeks<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That glassed the birds of Paradise—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bridal knot, it hung in heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, all around, the still lagoon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From bloom of dawn to blush of even<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Curved like a crescent moon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there we wandered evermore<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thro' boyhood's everlasting years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listening the murmur of the shore<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As one that lifts a shell and hears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The murmur of forgotten seas<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Around some lost Broceliande,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sigh of sweet Eternities<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That turn the world to fairy-land,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That turned our isle to a single pearl<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Glowing in measureless waves of wine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above, below, the clouds would curl,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Above, below, the stars would shine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In sky and sea. We hung in heaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Time and space were but elfin-sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rock-bound pools for the dawn and even<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wade with their rosy feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our pirate cavern faced the West:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We closed its door with screens of palm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While some went out to seek the nest<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wherein the Phœnix, breathing balm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burns and dies to live for ever<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(How should we dream we lived to die?)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some would fish in the purple river<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That thro' the hills brought down the sky.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And some would dive in the lagoon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like sunbeams, and all round our isle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swim thro' the lovely crescent moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Glimpsing, for breathless mile on mile,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wild sea-woods that bloomed below,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The rainbow fish, the coral cave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where vanishing swift as melting snow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A mermaid's arm would wave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then dashing shoreward thro' the spray<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On sun-lit sands they cast them down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or in the white sea-daisies lay<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With sun-stained bodies rosy-brown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Content to watch the foam-bows flee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Across the shelving reefs and bars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With wild eyes gazing out to sea<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like happy haunted stars.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And O, the wild sea-maiden<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drifting through the starlit air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With white arms blossom-laden<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the sea-scents in her hair:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sometimes we heard her singing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The midnight forest through,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or saw a soft hand flinging<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blossoms drenched with starry dew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the dreaming purple cave;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, sometimes, far and far away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beheld across the glooming wave<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beyond the dark lagoon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the silvery foaming bar,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The black bright rock whereon she lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a honey-coloured star<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Singing to the breathless moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Singing in the silent night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the stars for sheer delight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Closed their eyes, and drowsy birds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the midmost forest spray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Took their heads from out their wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thinking—it is Ariel sings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we must catch the witching words<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sing them o'er by day.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And then, there came a breath, a breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cool and strange and dark as death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A stealing shadow, not of the earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But fresh and wonder-wild as birth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know not when the hour began<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That changed the child's heart in the man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or when the colours began to wane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But all our roseate island lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stricken, as when an angel dies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With wings of rainbow-tinctured grain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Withering, and his radiant eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Closing. Pitiless walls of grey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gathered around us, a growing tomb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From which it seemed not death or doom<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Could roll the stone away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet—I remember—<br /></span> +<span class="i16">a gleam, a gleam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Or ever I dreamed that youth could die!)<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of sparkling waves and warm blue sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As out of sleep into a dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wonder-wild for the old sweet pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We sailed into that unknown sea<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through the gates of Eternity.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Peacefully close your mortal eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For ye shall wake to it again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Paradise, in Paradise.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>UNITY</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heart of my heart, the world is young;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Love lies hidden in every rose!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Every song that the skylark sung<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Once, we thought, must come to a close:</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now we know the spirit of song,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Song that is merged in the chant of the whole,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hand in hand as we wander along,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What should we doubt of the years that roll?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heart of my heart, we cannot die!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Love triumphant in flower and tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Every life that laughs at the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tells us nothing can cease to be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One, we are one with a song to-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with the clover that scents the wold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One with the Unknown, far away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with the stars, when earth grows old.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heart of my heart, we are one with the wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with the clouds that are whirled o'er the lea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One in many, O broken and blind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One as the waves are at one with the sea!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ay! when life seems scattered apart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Darkens, ends as a tale that is told,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One, we are one, O heart of my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One, still one, while the world grows old.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE HILL-FLOWER</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>It is my faith that every flower</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Enjoys the air it breathes</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So was it sung one golden hour<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Among the woodbine wreaths;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet, though wet with living dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The song seemed far more sweet than true.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Blind creatures of the sun and air<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I dreamed it but a dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, like Narcissus, would confer<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With self in every stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the leaves and boughs impart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tremors of a human heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To-day a golden pinion stirred<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The world's Bethesda pool,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I believed the song I heard<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor put my heart to school;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through the rainbows of the dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw the gates of Eden gleam.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The rain had ceased. The great hills rolled<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In silence to the deep:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gorse in waves of green and gold<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Perfumed their lonely sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, at my feet, one elfin flower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drooped, blind with glories of the shower.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I stooped—a giant from the sky—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Above its piteous shield,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, suddenly, the dream went by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there—was heaven revealed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I stooped to pluck it; but my hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Paused, mid-way, o'er its fairyland.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not of mine own was that strange voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Pluck—tear a star from heaven!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine only was the awful choice<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To scoff and be forgiven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or hear the very grass I trod<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whispering the gentle thoughts of God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I know not if the hill-flower's place<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beneath that mighty sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its lonely and aspiring grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Its beauty born to die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touched me, I know it seemed to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cherished by all Eternity.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Man, doomed to crush at every stride<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A hundred lives like this<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which by their weakness were allied,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If by naught else, to his,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can only for a flash discern<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What passion through the whole doth yearn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not into words can I distil<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The pity or the pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which hallowing all that lonely hill<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cried out "Refrain, refrain,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then breathed from earth and sky and sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Herein you did it unto Me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Somewhile that hill was heaven's own breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The flower its joy and grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hugged close and fostered and caressed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In every brief bright leaf:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, ere I went thro' sun and dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I leant and gently touched it, too.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ACTÆON</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Who stood beside the naked Swift-footed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bound his forehead with Proserpine's hair."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">—<span class="smcap">Browning</span> (<i>Pauline</i>)<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Light of beauty, O, "perfect in whiteness,"</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Softly suffused thro' the world's dark shrouds,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Kindling them all as they pass by thy brightness,—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hills, men, cities,—a pageant of clouds,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Thou to whom Life and Time surrender</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>All earth's forms as to heaven's deep care,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Who shall pierce to thy naked splendour,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Bind his brows with thy hair?</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swift thro' the sprays when Spring grew bolder<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Young Actæon swept to the chase!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Golden the fawn-skin, back from the shoulder<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flowing, set free the limbs' lithe grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Muscles of satin that rippled like sunny<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Streams—a hunter, a young athlete,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scattering dews and crushing out honey<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Under his sandalled feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sunset softened the crags of the mountain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Silence melted the hunter's heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only the sob of a falling fountain<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pulsed in a deep ravine apart:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the forest seemed waiting breathless,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Eager to whisper the dying day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some rich word that should utter the deathless<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Secret of youth and May.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down, as to May thro' the flowers that attend her,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Slowly, on tip-toe, down the ravine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair as the sun-god, poising a slender<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Spear like a moon-shaft silver and green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stole he! Ah, did the oak-wood ponder<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Youth's glad dream in its heart of gloom?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dryad or fawn was it started yonder?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah, what whisper of doom?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gold, thro' the ferns as he gazed and listened,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shone the soul of the wood's deep dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One bright glade and a pool that glistened<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full in the face of the sun's last gleam,—</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gold in the heart of a violet dingle!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Young Actæon, beware! beware!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who shall track, while the pulses tingle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Spring to her woodland lair?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See, at his feet, what mystical quiver,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Maiden's girdle and robe of snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tossed aside by the green glen-river<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ere she bathed in the pool below?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the fragrance of April meets him<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full in the face with its young sweet breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, as he steals to the glade, there greets him—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hush, what whisper of death?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, in the violets, lazily dreaming,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Young Diana, the huntress, lies:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One white side thro' the violets gleaming<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heaves and sinks with her golden sighs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One white breast like a diamond crownet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Couched in a velvet casket glows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One white arm, tho' the violets drown it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thrills their purple with rose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Buried in fragrance, the half-moon flashes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beautiful, clouded, from head to heel:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One white foot in the warm wave plashes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Violets tremble and half reveal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half conceal, as they kiss, the slender<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Slope and curve of her sleeping limbs:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Violets bury one half the splendour<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still, as thro' heaven, she swims.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cold as the white rose waking at daybreak<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lifts the light of her lovely face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poised on an arm she watches the spray break<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over the slim white ankle's grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watches the wave that sleeplessly tosses<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Kissing the pure foot's pink sea-shells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watches the long-leaved heaven-dark mosses<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drowning their star-bright bells.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swift as the Spring where the South has brightened<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Earth with bloom in one passionate night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift as the violet heavens had lightened<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Swift to perfection, blinding, white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dian arose: and Actæon saw her,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Only he since the world began!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only in dreams could Endymion draw her<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down to the heart of man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair as the dawn upon Himalaya<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Anger flashed from her cheek's pure rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alpine peaks at the passage of Maia<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flushed not fair as her breasts' white snows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, fair form of the heaven's completeness,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who shall sing thee or who shall say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence that "high perfection of sweetness,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Perfect to save or slay?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Perfect in beauty, beauty the portal</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Here on earth to the world's deep shrine,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Beauty hidden in all things mortal,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Who shall mingle his eyes with thine?</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Thou, to whom Life and Death surrender</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>All earth's forms as to heaven's deep care,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Who shall pierce to thy naked splendour,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Bind his brows with thy hair?</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Beauty, perfect in blinding whiteness,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Softly suffused thro' the world's dark shrouds,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Kindling them all as they pass by her brightness,—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hills, men, cities,—a pageant of clouds,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>She, the unchanging, shepherds their changes,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Bids them mingle and form and flow,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Flowers and flocks and the great hill-ranges</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Follow her cry and go.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XIV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swift as the sweet June lightning flashes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down she stoops to the purpling pool,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sudden and swift her white hand dashes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rainbow mists in his eyes! "Ah, fool!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hunter," she cries to the young Actæon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Change to the hunted, rise and fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift ere the wild pack utter its pæan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Swift for thy hounds draw nigh!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, as he trembles, the greenwood branches<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dusk his brows with their antlered pride!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, as a stag thrown back on its haunches<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quivers, with velvet nostrils wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, he changes! The soft fur darkens<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down to the fetlock's lifted fear!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hounds are baying!—he snuffs and hearkens,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Fly, for the stag is here!"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XVI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swift as he leapt thro' the ferns, Actæon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Young Actæon, the lordly stag,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full and mellow the deep-mouthed pæan<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Swelled behind him from crag to crag:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well he remembered that sweet throat leading,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wild with terror he raced and strained,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On thro' the darkness, thorn-swept, bleeding:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ever they gained and gained!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XVII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Death, like a darkling huntsman holloed—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Swift, Actæon!—desire and shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leading the pack of the passions followed.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Red jaws frothing with white-hot flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Volleying out of the glen, they leapt up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Snapped and fell short of the foam-flecked thighs ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inch by terrible inch they crept up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shadows with blood-shot eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XVIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still with his great heart bursting asunder<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still thro' the night he struggled and bled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suddenly round him the pack's low thunder<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Surged, the hounds that his own hand fed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fastened in his throat, with red jaws drinking<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Deep!—for a moment his antlered pride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soared o'er their passionate seas, then, sinking,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fell for the fangs to divide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XIX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Light of beauty, O, perfect in whiteness,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Softly suffused thro' the years' dark veils,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Kindling them all as they pass by her brightness,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Filling our hearts with her old-world tales,</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>She, the unchanging, shepherds their changes,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Bids them mingle and form and flow,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Flowers and flocks and the great hill-ranges</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Follow her cry and go.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still, in the violets, lazily dreaming<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Young Diana, the huntress, lies:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One white side thro' the violets gleaming<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heaves and sinks with her golden sighs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One white breast like a diamond crownet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Couched in a velvet casket glows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One white arm, tho' the violets drown it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thrills their purple with rose.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LUCIFER'S FEAST</h2> + +<h3>(A EUROPEAN NIGHTMARE.)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To celebrate the ascent of man, one gorgeous night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lucifer gave a feast.<br /></span> +<span class="i22">Its world-bewildering light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Danced in Belshazzar's tomb, and the old kings dead and gone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felt their dust creep to jewels in crumbling Babylon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Two nations were His guests—the top and flower of Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fore-front of an age which now had learned to climb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The slopes where Newton knelt, the heights that Shakespeare trod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mountains whence Beethoven rolled the voice of God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lucifer's feasting-lamps were like the morning stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But at the board-head shone the blood-red lamp of Mars.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">League upon glittering league, white front and flabby face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bent o'er the groaning board. Twelve brave men droned the grace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But with instinctive tact, in courtesy to their Host,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Omitted God the Son and God the Holy Ghost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the God of Battles raised their humble prayers.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, then, like thunder, all the guests drew up their chairs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By each a drinking-cup, yellow, almost, as gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(<i>The blue eye-sockets gave the thumbs a good firm hold</i>)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adorned the flowery board. Could even brave men shrink?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why if the cups <i>were</i> skulls, they had red wine to drink!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And had not each a napkin, white and peaked and proud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waiting to wipe his mouth? A napkin? Nay, a shroud!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This was a giant's feast, on hell's imperial scale.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blades glistened.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">The shrouds—O, in one snowy gale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pink hands fluttered them out, and spread them on their knees.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who knew what gouts might drop, what filthy flakes of grease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now that o'er every shoulder, through the coiling steam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inhuman faces peered, with wolfish eyes a-gleam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grey-faced vampire Lusts that whinneyed in each ear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hints of the hideous courses?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">None may name them here?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None? And we may not see! The distant cauldrons cloak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lava-coloured plains with clouds of umber smoke.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, by that shrapnel-light, by those wild shooting stars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That rip the clouds away with fiercer fire than Mars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are painted sharp as death. If these can eat and drink<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chatter and laugh and rattle their knives, why should we shrink<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From empty names? We know those ghastly gleams are true:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why should Christ cry again—<i>They know not what they do?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">They, heirs of all the ages, sons of Shakespeare's land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They, brothers of Beethoven, smiling, cultured, bland,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whisper with sidling heads to ghouls with bloody lips.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Each takes upon his plate a small round thing that drips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quivers, a child's heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Miles on miles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The glittering table bends o'er that first course, and smiles;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, through the wreaths of smoke, the grey Lusts bear aloft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The second course, on leaden chargers, large and soft,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bodies of women, steaming in an opal mist,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red-branded here and there where vampire-teeth have kissed.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But white as pig's flesh, newly killed, and cleanly dressed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lemon in each mouth and roses round each breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Emblems to show how deeply, sweetly satisfied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The breasts, the lips, can sleep, whose children fought and died<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For—what? For country? God, once more Thy shrapnel-light!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let those dark slaughter-houses burst upon our sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These kitchens are too clean, too near the tiring room!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Thy white shrapnel rend those filthier veils of gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rip the last fogs away and strip the foul thing bare!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One lightning-picture—see—yon bayonet-bristling square<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mown down, mown down, mown down, wild swathes of crimson wheat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The white-eyed charge, the blast, the terrible retreat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blood-greased wheels of cannon thundering into line<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er that red writhe of pain, rent groin and shattered spine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moaning faceless face that kissed its child last night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The raw pulp of the heart that beat for love's delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heap of twisting bodies, clotted and congealed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In one red huddle of anguish on the loathsome field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The seas of obscene slaughter spewing their blood-red yeast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Multitudes pouring out their entrails for the feast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knowing not why, but dying, they think, for some high cause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dying for "hearth and home," their flags, their creeds, their laws.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ask of the Bulls and Bears, ask if they understand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How both great grappling armies bleed for their own land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For in that faith they die! These hoodwinked thousands die<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Simply as heroes, gulled by hell's profoundest lie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who keeps the slaughter-house? Not these, not these who gain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nought but the sergeant's shilling and the homeless pain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who pulls the ropes? Not these, who buy their crust of bread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the salt sweat of labour! These but bury their dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then sweat again for food!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Christ, is the hour not come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To send forth one great voice and strike this dark hell dumb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A voice to out-crash the cannon, one united cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sweep these wild-beast standards down that stain the sky,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To hurl these Lions and Bears and Eagles to their doom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One voice, one heart, one soul, one fire that shall consume<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last red reeking shreds that flicker against the blast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And purge the Augean stalls we call "our glorious past"!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One voice from dawn and sunset, one almighty voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full-throated as the sea—ye sons o' the earth, rejoice!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the all-loving sky, confederate kings ye stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fling open wide the gates o' the world-wide Fatherland.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Poor fools, we dare not dream it! We that pule and whine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of art and science, we, whose great souls leave no shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unshattered, we that climb the Sinai Shakespeare trod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Olivets where Beethoven walked and talked with God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We that have weighed the stars and reined the lightning, we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That stare thro' heaven and plant our footsteps in the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We whose great souls have risen so far above the creeds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That we can jest at Christ and leave Him where He bleeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A legend of the dark, a tale so false or true<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That howsoe'er we jest at Him, the jest sounds new.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Our weariest dinner-tables never tire of that!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the clown sport with Christ, never the jest falls flat!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor fools, we dare not dream a dream so strange, so great,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As on this ball of dust to found one "world-wide state,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To float one common flag above our little lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ere our little sun grows cold to clasp our hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In friendship for a moment!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Hark, the violins<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are swooning through the mist. The great blue band begins,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Playing, in dainty scorn, a hymn we used to know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How long was it, ten thousand thousand years ago?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>There is a green hill far away</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Beside a City wall!</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And O, the music swung a-stray<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With a solemn dying fall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it was a pleasant jest to play<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hymns in the Devil's Hall.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And yet, and yet, if aught be true,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This dream we left behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This childish Christ, be-mocked anew<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To please the men of mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet hung so far beyond the flight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of our most lofty thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That—Lucifer laughed <i>at</i> us that night.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not <i>with</i> us, as he ought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beneath the blood-red lamp of Mars,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cloaked with a scarlet cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gazed along the line of stars<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Above the guzzling crowd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sinister, thunder-scarred, he raised<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His great world-wandering eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on some distant vision gazed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beyond our cloudy skies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Poor bats</i>," he sneered, "<i>their jungle-dark</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Civilisation's noon!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Poor wolves, that hunt in packs and bark</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Beneath the grinning moon;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Poor fools, that cast the cross away,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Before they break the sword;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Poor sots, who take the night for day;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Have mercy on me, Lord.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Beyond their wisdom's deepest skies</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>I see Thee hanging yet,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The love still hungering in Thine eyes,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Thy plaited crown still wet!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Thine arms outstretched to fold them all</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Beneath Thy sheltering breast;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>But—since they will not hear Thy call,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Lord, I forbear to jest.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Lord, I forbear! The day I fell</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>I fell at least thro' pride!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Rather than these should share my hell</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Take me, thou Crucified!</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>O, let me share Thy cross of grief,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And let me work Thy will,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>As morning star, or dying thief.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Thy fallen angel still.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Lord, I forbear! For Thee, at least,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>In pain so like to mine,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The mighty meaning of their feast</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Is plain as bread and wine:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>O, smile once more, far off, alone!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Since these nor hear nor see,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>From my deep hell, so like Thine own,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Lord Christ, I pity Thee.</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet once again, he thought, they shall be fully tried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If they be devils or fools too light for hell's deep pride.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The champ of teeth was over, and the reeking room<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gaped for the speeches now. Across the sulphurous fume<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lucifer gave a sign. The guests stood thundering up!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gentlemen, charge your glasses!"<br /></span> +<span class="i20">Every yellow cup<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frothed with the crimson blood. They brandished them on high!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gentlemen, drink to those who fight and know not why!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And in the bubbling blood each nose was buried deep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gentlemen, drink to those who sowed that we might reap!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drink to the pomp, pride, circumstance, of glorious war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grand self-sacrifice that made us what we are!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drink to the peace-lovers who believe that peace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is War, red, bloody War; for War can never cease<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless we drain the veins of peace to fatten <span class="smcap">War</span>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gentlemen, drink to the brains that made us what we are!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drink to self-sacrifice that helps us all to shake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world with tramp of armies. Germany, awake!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">England, awake! Shakespeare's, Beethoven's Fatherland,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are you not both aware, do you not understand,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Self-sacrifice is competition? It is the law<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Life, and so, though both of you are wholly right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Self-sacrifice requires that both of you should fight."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And "Hoch! hoch! hoch!" they cried; and "Hip, hip, hip, Hurrah!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This raised the gorge of Lucifer. With one deep "Bah,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above those croaking toads he towered like Gabriel;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then straightway left the table and went home to hell.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>VETERANS</h2> + +<h3>(WRITTEN FOR THE RELIEF FUND OF THE CRIMEAN VETERANS.)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the last charge sounds<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the battle thunders o'er the plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thunders o'er the trenches where the red streams flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will it not be well with us,<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Veterans, veterans,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, beneath your torn old flag, we burst upon the foe?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the last post sounds<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the night is on the battle-field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Night and rest at last from all the tumult of our wars,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will it not be well with us,<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Veterans, veterans,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, with duty done like yours, we lie beneath the stars?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the great reveille sounds<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the terrible last Sabaoth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the legions of the dead shall hear the trumpet ring!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will it not be well with us,<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Veterans, veterans,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, beneath your torn old flag, we rise to meet our King?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE QUEST RENEWED</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is too soon, too soon, though time be brief,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quite to forswear thy quest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Light, whose farewell dyes the falling leaf,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fades thro' the fading west.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou'rt flown too soon! I stretch my hands out still,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O, Light of Life, to Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who leav'st an Olivet in each far blue hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A sorrow on every sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is too soon, here while the loud world roars<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For wealth and power and fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too soon quite to forget those other shores<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Afar, from whence I came;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Too soon even to forget the first dear dream<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dreamed far away, when tears could freely flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And life seemed infinite, as that sky's great gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Deepened, to which I go;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Too soon even to forget the fluttering fire<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And those old books beside the friendly hearth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When time seemed endless as my own desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And angels walked our earth;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Too soon quite to forget amid the throng<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What once the silent hills, the sounding beach<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taught me—where singing was the prize of song,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And heaven within my reach.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is too soon amid the cynic sneers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sophist smiles, the greedy mouths and hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quite to forget the light of those dead years<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And my lost mountain-lands;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Too soon to lose that everlasting hope<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(For so it seemed) of youth in love's pure reign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though while I linger on this darkening slope<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nought seems quite worth the pain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is too soon for me to break that trust,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O, Light of Light, flown far past sun and moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burn back thro' this dark panoply of dust;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or let me follow—soon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE LIGHTS OF HOME</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pilot, how far from home?—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not far, not far to-night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A flight of spray, a sea-bird's flight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A flight of tossing foam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And then the lights of home!—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, yet again, how far?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And seems the way so brief?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Those lights beyond the roaring reef<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were lights of moon and star,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Far, far, none knows how far!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pilot, how far from home?—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The great stars pass away<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before Him as a flight of spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moons as a flight of foam!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I see the lights of home.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> +<h2>NEW POEMS</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>'TWEEN THE LIGHTS</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The Nine men's morrice is filled up with mud ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From our debate, from our dissension."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">—<span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fairies, come back! We have not seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your dusky foot-prints on the green<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This many a year. No frolic now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shakes the dew from the hawthorn-bough.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never a man and never a maid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spies you in the blue-bell shade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, where the nine men's morrice stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our spades are clearing out the mud.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.—Come, little irised heralds, fling</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Earth's Eden-gates apart, and sing</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>The bright eyes and the cordial hand</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Of brotherhood thro' all our land.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fairies, come back! Our pomp of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our blazing noon, grows grey and old;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scornful glittering ages wane:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgive, forget, come back again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is our England's Hallowe'en!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, trip it, trip it o'er the green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trip it, amidst the roaring mart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the still meadows of the heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Come, little irised heralds, fling</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Earth's Eden-gates apart, and sing</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>The bright eyes and the cordial hand</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Of brotherhood thro' all our land.</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fairies, come back! Once more the gleams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of your lost Eden haunt our dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Evil, at the touch of Good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Withers in the Enchanted Wood:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fairies, come back! Drive gaunt Despair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Famine to their ghoulish lair!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tap at each heart's bright window-pane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' merry England once again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Come, little irised heralds, fling</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Earth's Eden-gates apart, and sing</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>The bright eyes and the cordial hand</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Of brotherhood thro' all our land.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fairies, come back! And, if you bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That long-expected song to sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ciss needs not, ere she welcomes you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To find a sixpence in her shoe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, of the mud he clears away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tom bears the ignoble stain to-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come back, and he will not forget<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heavens that yearn beyond us yet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Come, little irised heralds, fling</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Earth's Eden-gates apart, and sing</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>The bright eyes and the cordial hand</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Of brotherhood thro' all our land.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, if for this you will not come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your friends, the children, call you home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fairies, they wear no May-day crowns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your playmates in those grim black towns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look, fairies, how they peak and pine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How hungrily their great eyes shine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From fevered alley and fœtid lane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plead the thin arms—<i>Come back again!</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Come, little irised heralds, fling</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Earth's Eden-gates apart, and sing</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>The bright eyes and the cordial hand</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Of brotherhood thro' all our land.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We have named the stars and weighed the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Counted our gains and ... lost the boon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If <i>this</i> be the end of all our lore—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To draw the blind and close the door!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, lift the latch, slip in between<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The things which we have heard and seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slip thro' the fringes of the blind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the souls of all mankind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Come, little irised heralds, fling</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Earth's Eden-gates apart, and sing</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>The bright eyes and the cordial hand</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Of brotherhood thro' all our land.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fairies, come back! Our wisdom dies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath your deeper, starrier skies!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We have reined the lightning, probed the flower:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bless, as of old, our twilight hour!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bring dreams, and let the dreams be true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bring hope that makes each heart anew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bring love that knits all hearts in one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then—sing of heaven and bring the sun!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Come, little irised heralds, fling</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Earth's Eden-gates apart, and sing</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>The bright eyes and the cordial hand</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Of brotherhood thro' all our land.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> +<h2>CREATION</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the beginning, there was nought<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But heaven, one Majesty of Light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond all speech, beyond all thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beyond all depth, beyond all height,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Consummate heaven, the first and last,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Enfolding in its perfect prime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No future rushing to the past,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But one rapt Now, that knew not Space or Time.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Formless it was, being gold on gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And void—but with that complete Life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where music could no wings unfold<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till lo, God smote the strings of strife!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Myself unto Myself am Throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Myself unto Myself am Thrall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I that am All am all alone,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He said, "Yea, I have nothing, having all."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, gathering round His mount of bliss<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The angel-squadrons of His will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said, "One battle yet there is<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To win, one vision to fulfil!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since heaven where'er I gaze expands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And power that knows no strife or cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weakness shall bind and pierce My hands<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And make a world for Me wherein to die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"All might, all vastness and all glory<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Being Mine, I must descend and make<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of My heart a song, a story<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of little hearts that burn and break;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of My passion without end<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I will make little azure seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And into small sad fields descend<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And make green grass, white daisies, rustling trees."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then shrank His angels, knowing He thrust<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His arms out East and West and gave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For every little dream of dust<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Part of His life as to a grave!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>Enough, O Father, for Thy words</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Have pierced Thy hands!</i>" But, low and sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said "Sunsets and streams and birds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drifting clouds!"—The purple stained His feet.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Enough!" His angels moaned in fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"<i>Father, Thy words have pierced Thy side!</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He whispered, "Roses shall grow there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there must be a hawthorn-tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ferns, dewy at dawn," and still<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They moaned—"<i>Enough, the red drops bleed!</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And," sweet and low, "on every hill,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He said, "I will have flocks and lambs to lead."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His angels bowed their heads beneath<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their wings till that great pang was gone:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>Pour not Thy soul out unto Death!</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They moaned, and still His Love flowed on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"There shall be small white wings to stray<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From bliss to bliss, from bloom to bloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blue flowers in the wheat;" and—"<i>Stay!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Speak not</i>," they cried, "<i>the word that seals Thy tomb!</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He spake—"I have thought of a little child<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I will have there to embark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On small adventures in the wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And front slight perils in the dark;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will hide from him and lure<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His laughing eyes with suns and moons,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rainbows that shall not endure;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And—when he is weary, sing him drowsy tunes."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His angels fell before Him weeping<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"<i>Enough! Tempt not the Gates of Hell!</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said, "His soul is in his keeping<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That we may love each other well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lest the dark too much affright him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I will strow countless little stars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across his childish skies to light him<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That he may wage in peace his mimic wars;</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And oft forget Me as he plays<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With swords and childish merchandize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or with his elfin balance weighs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or with his foot-rule metes, the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or builds his castles by the deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or tunnels through the rocks, and then—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn to Me as he falls asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, in his dreams, feel for My hand again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And when he is older he shall be<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My friend and walk here at My side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or—when he wills—grow young with Me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, to that happy world where once we died<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Descending through the calm blue weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Buy life once more with our immortal breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wander through the little fields together,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And taste of Love and Death."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE PEACEMAKER.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Silently over his vast imperial seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over his sentinel fleets the Shadow swept<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all his armies slept.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was but one quick challenge at the gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then—the cold menace of that out-stretched hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waving aside the panoplies of State,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brought the last faithful watchers to their knees,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lightning flashed the grief from land to land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mourn, Britain, mourn, not for a king alone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This was the people's king! His purple throne<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was in their hearts. They shared it. Millions of swords<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could not have shaken it! Sharers of this doom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This democratic doom which all men know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Common-weal, in this great common woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Veiling its head in the universal gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that majestic grief which knows not words,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bows o'er a world-wide tomb.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mourn, Europe, for our England set this Crown<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In splendour past the reach of temporal power,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Secure above the thunders of the hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sun in the great skies of her renown,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A sun to hold her wheeling worlds in one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By its own course of duty pre-ordained,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where'er the meteors flash and fall, a sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With its great course of duty!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">So he reigned,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And died in its observance. Mightier he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than any despot, in his people's love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He served that law which rules the Thrones above,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That world-wide law which by the raging sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abased the flatterers of Canúte and makes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The King that abnegates all lesser power<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A rock in time of trouble, and a tower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of strength where'er the tidal tempest breaks;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That world-wide law whose name is harmony,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose service perfect freedom!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">And <i>his</i> name<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The Peacemaker</i>, through all the future years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall burn, a glorious and prophetic flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A beaconing sun that never shall go down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A sun to speed the world's diviner morrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A sun that shines the brighter for our sorrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, O, what splendour in a monarch's crown<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Vies with the splendour of his people's tears?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now, O now, while the sorrowful trumpet is blown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From island to continent, zone to imperial zone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the flags of the nations are lowered in grief with our own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, while the roll of the drums that for battle were dumb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he reigned, salute his passing; and low on the breeze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the snow-bound North to the Australasian seas<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surges the solemn lament—O, shall it not come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A glimpse of that mightier union of all mankind?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, though our eyes, as they gaze on the vision, grow blind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, while the world is all one funeral knell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the mournful cannon thunder his great farewell,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, while the bells of a thousand cities toll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remember, O England, remember the ageless goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rally the slumbering faith in the depths of thy soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lift up thine eyes to the Kingdom for which he fought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Empire of Peace and Good-will, for which to his death-hour he wrought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, then while the pomp of the world seems a little thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ay, though by the world it be said,<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>The King is dead!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">We shall lift up our hearts and answer—<i>Long live the King!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE SAILOR-KING</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fleet, the fleet puts out to sea<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In a thunder of blinding foam to-night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a bursting wreck-strewn reef to lee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But—a seaman fired yon beacon-light!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seamen hailing a seaman, know—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Free-men crowning a free-man, sing—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The worth of that light where the great ships go,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The signal-fire of the king.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cloud and wind may shift and veer:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This is steady and this is sure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A signal over our hope and fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A pledge of the strength that shall endure—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Having no part in our storm-tossed strife—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A sign of union, which shall bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knowledge to men of their close-knit life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The signal-fire of the king.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His friends are the old grey glorious waves,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The wide world round, the wide world round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That have roared with our guns and covered our graves<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From Nombre Dios to Plymouth Sound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his crown shall shine, a central sun<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Round which the planet-nations sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Going their ways, but linked in one,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the ships of our sailor-king.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Many the ships, but a single fleet;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Many the roads, but a single goal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a light, a light where all roads meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The beacon-fire of an Empire's soul;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The worth of that light his seamen know,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through all the deaths that the storm can bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crown of their comrade-ship a-glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The signal-fire of the king.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE FIDDLER'S FAREWELL</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With my fiddle to my shoulder,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And my hair turning grey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my heart growing older<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I must shuffle on my way!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' there's not a hearth to greet me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I must reap as I sowed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And—the sunset shall meet me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At the turn of the road.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, the whin's a dusky yellow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the road a rosy white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the blackbird's call is mellow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At the falling of night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there's honey in the heather<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where we'll make our last abode,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My tunes and me together<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At the turn of the road.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I have fiddled for your city<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thro' market-place and inn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have poured forth my pity<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On your sorrow and your sin!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But your riches are your burden,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And your pleasure is your goad!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've the whin-gold for guerdon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At the turn of the road.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Your village-lights 'll call me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the lights of home the dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a black night befall me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ere your pillows rest my head!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God be praised, tho' like a jewel<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Every cottage casement showed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's a star that's not so cruel<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At the turn of the road.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, beautiful and kindly<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are the faces drawing nigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I gaze on them blindly<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hasten, hasten by;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For O, no face of wonder<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On earth has ever glowed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the One that waits me yonder<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At the turn of the road.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her face is lit with splendour,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She dwells beyond the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But deep, deep and tender<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are the tears in her eyes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The angels see them glistening<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In pity for my load,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And—she's waiting there, she's listening,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At the turn of the road.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>TO A PESSIMIST</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Life like a cruel mistress woos<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The passionate heart of man, you say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only in mockery to refuse<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His love, at last, and turn away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To me she seems a queen that knows<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How great is love—but ah, how rare!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, pointing heavenward ere she goes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gives him the rose from out her hair.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> +<h2>MOUNT IDA</h2> + +<p>[This poem commemorates an event of some years ago, when a young +Englishman—still remembered by many of his contemporaries at +Oxford—went up into Mount Ida and was never seen again.]</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not cypress, but this warm pine-plumage now<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fragrant with sap, I pluck; nor bid you weep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye Muses that still haunt the heavenly brow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of Ida, though the ascent is hard and steep:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weep not for him who left us wrapped in sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At dawn beneath the holy mountain's breast<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And all alone from Ilion's gleaming shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clomb the high sea-ward glens, fain to drink deep<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of earth's old glory from your silent crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Take the cloud-conquering throne<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Of gods, and gaze alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' heaven. Darkling we slept who saw his face no more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah yet, in him hath Lycidas a brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Adonaïs will not say him nay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Thyrsis to the breast of one sweet Mother<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Welcomes him, climbing by the self-same way:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quietly as a cloud at break of day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Up the long glens of golden dew he stole<br /></span> +<span class="i4">(And surely Bion called to him afar!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tearful hyacinths and the greenwood spray<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Clinging to keep him from the sapphire goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Kept of his path no trace!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Upward the yearning face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clomb the ethereal height, calm as the morning star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah yet, incline, dear Sisters, or my song<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That with the light wings of the skimming swallow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must range the reedy slopes, will work him wrong!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And with some golden shaft do thou, Apollo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Show the pine-shadowed path that none may follow;</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For, as the blue air shuts behind a bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Round him closed Ida's cloudy woods and rills!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day-long, night-long, by echoing height and hollow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We called him, but our tumult died unheard:<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Down from the scornful sky<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Our faint wing-broken cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fluttered and perished among the many-folded hills.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, though we clomb each faint-flushed peak of vision,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nought but our own sad faces we divined:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy radiant way still laughed us to derision,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And still revengeful Echo proved unkind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oft our faithless hearts half feared to find<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy cold corse in some dark mist-drenched ravine<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Where the white foam flashed headlong to the sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How should we find thee, spirits deaf and blind<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Even to the things which we had heard and seen?<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Eyes that could see no more<br /></span> +<span class="i10">The old light on sea and shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What should they hope or fear to find? They found not thee;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For thou wast ever alien to our skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A wistful stray of radiance on this earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A changeling with deep memories in thine eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mistily gazing thro' our loud-voiced mirth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To some fair land beyond the gates of birth;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet as a star thro' clouds, thou still didst shed<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Through our dark world thy lovelier, rarer glow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time, like a picture of but little worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before thy young hand lifelessly outspread,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">At one light stroke from thee<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Gleamed with Eternity;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou gav'st the master's touch, and we—we did not know.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not though we gazed from heaven o'er Ilion<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dreaming on earth below, mistily crowned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With towering memories, and beyond her shone<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The wine-dark seas Achilles heard resound!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only, and after many days, we found<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dabbled with dew, at border of a wood<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Bedded in hyacinths, open and a-glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy Homer's Iliad.... Dryad tears had drowned<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The rough Greek type and, as with honey or blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">One crocus with crushed gold<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Stained the great page that told<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of gods that sighed their loves on Ida, long ago.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See—<i>for a couch to their ambrosial limbs</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Even as their golden load of splendour presses</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The fragrant thyme, a billowing cloud up-swims</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Of springing flowers beneath their deep caresses,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Hyacinth, lotus, crocus, wildernesses</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Of bloom</i> ... but clouds of sunlight and of dew<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Dropping rich balm, round the dark pine-woods curled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the warm wonder of their in-woven tresses,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all the secret blisses that they knew,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Where beauty kisses truth<br /></span> +<span class="i10">In heaven's deep heart of youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might still be hidden, as thou art, from the heartless world.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Even as we found thy book, below these rocks<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Perchance that strange great eagle's feather lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Ganymede, from feeding of his flocks<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On Ida, vanished thro' the morning grey:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stranger it seemed, if thou couldst cast away</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Those golden musics as a thing of nought,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A dream for which no longer thou hadst need!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, was it here then that the break of day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Brought thee the substance for the shadow, taught<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Thy soul a swifter road<br /></span> +<span class="i10">To ease it of its load<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And watch this world of shadows as a dream recede?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We slept! Darkling we slept! Our busy schemes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our cold mechanic world awhile was still;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But O, their eyes are blinded even in dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who from the heavenlier Powers withdraw their will:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here did the dawn with purer light fulfil<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy happier eyes than ours, here didst thou see<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The quivering wonder-light in flower and dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The quickening glory of the haunted hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Hamadryad beckoning from the tree.<br /></span> +<span class="i10">The Naiad from the stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i10">While from her long dark dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth woke, trembling with life, light, beauty, through and through.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the everlasting miracle of things<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flowed round thee, and this dark earth opposed no bar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And radiant faces from the flowers and springs<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dawned on thee, whispering, <i>Knowest thou whence</i> we <i>are</i>?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faintly thou heardst us calling thee afar<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As Hylas heard, swooning beneath the wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Girdled with glowing arms, while wood and glen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Echoed his name beneath that rosy star;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thy farewell came faint as from the grave<br /></span> +<span class="i10">For very bliss; but we<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Could neither hear nor see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the hill with <i>Hylas! Hylas!</i> rang again.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But there were deeper love-tales for thine ears<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than mellow-tongued Theocritus could tell:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over him like a sea two thousand years<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had swept. They solemnized his music well!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farewell! What word could answer but farewell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From thee, O happy spirit, that couldst steal<br /></span> +<span class="i4">So quietly from this world at break of day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What voice of ours could break the silent spell<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beauty had cast upon thee, or reveal<br /></span> +<span class="i10">The gates of sun and dew<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Which oped and let thee through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And led thee heavenward by that deep enchanted way?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet here thou mad'st thy choice: Love, Wisdom, Power,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As once before young Paris, they stood here!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath them Ida, like one full-blown flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shed her bloom earthward thro' the radiant air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaving her rounded fruit, their beauty, bare<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the everlasting dawn; and, in thy palm<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The golden apple of the Hesperian isle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which thou must only yield to the Most Fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But not to Juno's great luxurious calm,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Nor Dian's curved white moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Gav'st thou the sunset's boon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor to foam-bosomed Aphrodite's rose-lipped smile.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here didst thou make the eternal choice aright,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here, in this hallowed haunt of nymph and faun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They stood before thee in that great new light,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The three great splendours of the immortal dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all the cloudy veils of Time withdrawn</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or only glistening round the firm white snows<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of their pure beauty like the golden dew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brushed from the feathery ferns below the lawn;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But not to cold Diana's morning rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Nor to great Juno's frown<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Cast thou the apple down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, when the Paphian raised her lustrous eyes anew,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XIV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou from thy soul didst whisper—<i>in that heaven</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Which yearns beyond us! Lead me up the height!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>How should the golden fruit to one be given</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Till your three splendours in that Sun unite</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Where each in each ye move like light in light?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>How should I judge the rapture till I know</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>The pain?</i> And like three waves of music there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They closed thee round, blinding thy blissful sight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With beauty and, like one roseate orb a-glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">They bore thee on their breasts<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Up the sun-smitten crests<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And melted with thee smiling into the Most Fair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Upward and onward, ever as ye went<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The cities of the world nestled beneath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Closer, as if in love, round Ida, blent<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With alien hills in one great bridal-wreath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of dawn-flushed clouds; while, breathing with your breath<br /></span> +<span class="i2">New heavens mixed with your mounting bliss. Deep eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Beautiful eyes, imbrued with the world's tears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dawned on you, beautiful gleams of Love and Death<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flowed thro' your questioning with divine replies<br /></span> +<span class="i10">From that ineffable height<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Dark with excess of light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the Ever-living dies and the All-loving hears.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XVI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For thou hadst seen what tears upon man's face<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bled from the heart or burned from out the brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not denied or cursed, but couldst embrace<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Infinite sweetness in the heart of pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heardst those universal choirs again<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wherein like waves of one harmonious sea<br /></span> +<span class="i4">All our slight dreams of heaven are singing still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still the throned Olympians swell the strain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, hark, the burden, of all—<i>Come unto Me!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10">Sky into deepening sky<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Melts with that one great cry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the lost doves of Ida moan on Siloa's hill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XVII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I gather all the ages in my song<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And send them singing up the heights to thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chord by æonian chord the stars prolong<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their passionate echoes to Eternity:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth wakes, and one orchestral symphony<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweeps o'er the quivering harp-strings of mankind;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Grief modulates into heaven, hate drowns in love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No strife now but of love in that great sea<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of song! I dream! I dream! Mine eyes grow blind:<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Chords that I not command<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Escape the fainting hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tears fall. Thou canst not hear. Thou'rt still too far above.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XVIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Farewell! What word should answer but farewell<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From thee, O happy spirit, whose clear gaze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Discerned the path—clear, but unsearchable—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where Olivet sweetens, deepens, Ida's praise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The path that strikes as thro' a sunlit haze</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through Time to that clear reconciling height<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Where our commingling gleams of godhead dwell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strikes thro' the turmoil of our darkling days<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To that great harmony where, like light in light,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Wisdom and Beauty still<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Haunt the thrice-holy hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Love, immortal Love ... what answer but farewell?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE ELECTRIC TRAM</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bluff and burly and splendid<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Thro' roaring traffic-tides,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By secret lightnings attended<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The land-ship hisses and glides.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I sit on its bridge and I watch and I dream<br /></span> +<span class="i8">While the world goes gallantly by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all its crowded houses and its colored shops a-stream<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Under the June-blue sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Heigh, ho!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Under the June-blue sky.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There's a loafer at the kerb with a sulphur-coloured pile<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Of "Lights! Lights! Lights!" to sell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a flower-girl there with some lilies and a smile<br /></span> +<span class="i8">By the gilt swing-doors of a drinking hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the money is rattling loud and fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I catch one glimpse as the ship swings past<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Of a woman with a babe at her breast<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Wrapped in a ragged shawl;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">She is drinking away with the rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And the sun shines over it all,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Heigh, ho!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">The sun shines over it all!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And a barrel-organ is playing,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Somewhere, far away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Abide with me</i>, and <i>The world is gone a-maying</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And <i>What will the policeman say?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's a glimpse of the river down an alley by a church,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And the barges with their tawny-coloured sails,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a grim and grimy coal-wharf where the London pigeons perch<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And flutter and spread their tails,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Heigh, ho!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Flutter and spread their tails.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, what does it mean, all the pageant and the pity,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The waste and the wonder and the shame?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am riding tow'rds the sunset thro' the vision of a City<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Which we cloak with the stupor of a name!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am riding thro' ten thousand thousand tragedies and terrors,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Ten million heavens that save and hells that damn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the lightning draws my car tow'rds the golden evening star;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And—They call it only "riding on a tram,"<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Heigh, ho!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">They call it only "riding on a tram."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>SHERWOOD</h2> + + +<h3>PERSONS OF THE DRAMA</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Robin</span></td><td align='left'>Earl of Huntingdon, known as "Robin Hood."</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Little John</span></td><td align='left'>}</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Friar Tuck</span></td><td align='left'>}</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Will Scarlet</span></td><td align='left'>} Outlaws and followers of "Robin Hood."</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Reynold Greenleaf</span></td><td align='left'>}</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Much, the Miller's Son</span></td><td align='left'> }</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Allan-a-Dale</span></td><td align='left'>}</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Prince John.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">King Richard</span>, Cœur de Lion.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Blondel</span></td><td align='left'>King Richard's minstrel.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Oberon</span></td><td align='left'>King of the Fairies.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Titania</span></td><td align='left'>Queen of the Fairies.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Puck</span></td><td align='left'>A Fairy.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Sheriff of Nottingham.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Fitzwalter</span></td><td align='left'>Father of Marian, known as "Maid Marian."</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span></td><td align='left'>A Fool.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Arthur Plantagenet</span></td><td align='left'>Nephew to Prince John, a boy of about ten years of age.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Queen Elinor</span></td><td align='left'>Mother of Prince John and Richard Lion-Heart.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Marian Fitzwalter</span></td><td align='left'>Known as Maid Marian, betrothed to Robin Hood.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Jenny</span></td><td align='left'>Maid to Marian.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Widow Scarlet</span></td><td align='left'>Mother of Will Scarlet.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Prioress of Kirklee.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2">Fairies, merry men, serfs, peasants, mercenaries, an abbot, a baron, a novice, nuns, courtiers, soldiers, retainers, etc.</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ACT I</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span> <i>Night. The borders of the forest. The smouldering embers of a +Saxon homestead. The <span class="smcap">Sheriff</span> and his men are struggling with a <span class="smcap">Serf</span>.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SERF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No, no, not that! not that! If you should blind me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God will repay you. Kill me out of hand!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Prince John</span> and several of his retainers.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who is this night-jar?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The retainers laugh.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Surely, master Sheriff,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You should have cut its tongue out, first. Its cries<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tingle so hideously across the wood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They'll wake the King in Palestine. Small wonder<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Robin Hood evades you.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>To the <span class="smcap">Serf</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Silence, dog,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Know you not better than to make this clamour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before Prince John?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SERF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Prince John! It is Prince John!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For God's love save me, sir!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Whose thrall is he?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I know not, sir, but he was caught red-handed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Killing the king's deer. By the forest law<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He should of rights be blinded; for, as you see,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He indicates the <span class="smcap">Serf's</span> right hand.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis not his first deer at King Richard's cost.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">'Twill save you trouble if you say at mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, sir, I pray your pardon—at <i>your</i> cost!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His right hand lacks the thumb and arrow-finger,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though he vows it was a falling tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That crushed them, you may trust your Sheriff, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was the law that clipped them when he last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hunted your deer.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SERF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Prince, when the Conqueror came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They burned my father's homestead with the rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make the King a broader hunting-ground.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have hunted there for food. How could I bear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hear my hungry children crying? Prince,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They'll make good bowmen for your wars, one day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He is much too fond of 'Prince': he'll never live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see a king. Whose thrall?—his iron collar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look, is the name not on it?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Sir, the name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is filed away, and in another hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ring would have been broken. He is one of those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green adders of the moon, night-creeping thieves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom Huntingdon has tempted to the woods.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These desperate ruffians flee their lawful masters<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And flock around the disaffected Earl<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like ragged rooks around an elm, by scores!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now, i' faith, the sun of Huntingdon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is setting fast. They've well nigh beggared him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eaten him out of house and home. They say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, when we make him outlaw, we shall find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nought to distrain upon, but empty cupboards.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Did you not serve him once yourself?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i38">Oh, ay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was more prosperous then. But now my cupboards<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are full, and his are bare. Well, I'd think scorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To share a crust with outcast churls and thieves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doffing his dignity, letting them call him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robin, or Robin Hood, as if an Earl<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were just a plain man, which he will be soon,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When we have served our writ of outlawry!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis said he hopes much from the King's return<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And swears by Lion-Heart; and though King Richard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is brother to yourself, 'tis all the more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ungracious, sir, to hope he should return,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And overset your rule. But then—to keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such base communications! Myself would think it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unworthy of my sheriffship, much more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unworthy a right Earl.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">You talk too much!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This whippet, here, slinks at his heel, you say.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mercy may close her eyes, then. Take him off,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blind him or what you will; and let him thank<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His master for it. But wait—perhaps he knows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where we may trap this young patrician thief.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is your master?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SERF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Where you'll never find him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, ho! the dog is faithful! Take him away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Get your red business done, I shall require<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your men to ride with me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>To his men.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Take him out yonder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bow-shot into the wood, so that his clamour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do not offend my lord. Delay no time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The irons are hot by this. They'll give you light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough to blind him by.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SERF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Crying out and struggling as he is forced back into the forest.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">No, no, not that!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God will repay you! Kill me out of hand!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>To <span class="smcap">Prince John</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is a kind of justice in all this.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The irons being heated in that fire, my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which was his hut, aforetime.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Some of the men take the glowing irons from the fire and follow into the wood.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i42">There's no need<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To parley with him, either. The snares are laid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Robin Hood. He goes this very night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To his betrothal feast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Betrothal feast!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At old Fitzwalter's castle, sir.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">Ha! ha!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There will be one more guest there than he thought!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ourselves are riding thither. We intended<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Lady Marian for a happier fate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than bride to Robin Hood. Your plans are laid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To capture him?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Consequentially.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">It was our purpose, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To serve the writ of outlawry upon him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And capture him as he came forth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">That's well.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then—let him disappear—you understand?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I have your warrant, sir? Death? A great Earl?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, first declare him outlawed at his feast!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twill gladden the tremulous heart of old Fitzwalter<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With his prospective son-in-law; and then—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No man will overmuch concern himself<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whither an outlaw goes. You understand?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It shall be done, sir.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">But the Lady Marian!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By heaven, I'll take her. I'll banish old Fitzwalter<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he prevent my will in this. You'll bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How many men to ring the castle round?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A good five score of bowmen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Then I'll take her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This very night as hostage for Fitzwalter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since he consorts with outlaws. These grey rats<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will gnaw my kingdom's heart out. For 'tis mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This England, now or later. They that hold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Richard, as their absent king, would make<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My rule a usurpation. God, am I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My brother's keeper?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>There is a cry in the forest from the <span class="smcap">Serf</span>, who immediately afterwards appears at the edge of the glade, shaking himself free from his guards. He seizes a weapon and rushes at <span class="smcap">Prince John</span>. One of the retainers runs him through and he falls at the <span class="smcap">Prince's</span> feet.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">That's a happy answer!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Stooping over the body.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He is dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">I am sorry. It were better sport<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To send him groping like a hoodman blind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through Sherwood, whimpering for his Robin. Come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll ride with you to this betrothal feast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now for my Lady Marian!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exeunt all. A pause. The scene darkens. Shadowy figures creep out from the thickets, of old men, women and children.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST OLD MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Stretching his arms up to Heaven.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">God, am I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My brother's keeper? Witness, God in heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said it and not we—Cain's word, he said it!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST WOMAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Kneeling by the body.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Father, Father, and the blood of Abel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cries to thee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A BLIND MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Is there any light here still?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I feel a hot breath on my face. The dark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is better for us all. I am sometimes glad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They blinded me those many years ago.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Princes are princes; and God made the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For one or two it seems. Well, I am glad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot see His world.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST WOMAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Still by the body and whispering to the others.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Keep him away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis as we thought. The dead man is his son.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keep him away, poor soul. He need not know.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Some of the men carry the body among the thickets.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A CHILD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mother, I'm hungry, I'm hungry!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST OLD MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">There's no food<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For any of us to-night. The snares are empty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I can try no more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE BLIND MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Wait till my son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes back. He's a rare hunter is my boy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You need not fret, poor little one. My son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is much too quick and clever for the Sheriff.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'll bring you something good. Why, ha! ha! ha!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Friends, I've a thought—the Sheriff's lit the fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ready for us to roast our meat. Come, come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let us be merry while we may! My boy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will soon come back with food for the old folks.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fire burns brightly, eh?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND OLD MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">The fire that feeds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On hope and eats our hearts away. They've burnt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Everything, everything!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE BLIND MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Ah, princes are princes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when the King comes home from the Crusade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We shall have better times.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST OLD MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Ay, when the King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes home from the Crusade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">CHILD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Mother, I'm hungry.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND WOMAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, but if I could only find a crust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left by the dogs. Masters, the child will starve.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We must have food.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE BLIND MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">I tell you when my boy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes back, we shall have plenty!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST WOMAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">God pity thee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE BLIND MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What dost thou mean?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND WOMAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Masters, the child will starve.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST OLD MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hist, who comes here—a forester?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE BLIND MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">We'd best<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slip back into the dark.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST WOMAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Excitedly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">No, stay! All's well.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's Shadow-of-a-Leaf, good Lady Marian's fool<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside him!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE BLIND MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Ah, they say there's fairy blood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Shadow-of-a-Leaf. But I've no hopes of more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From him, than wild bees' honey-bags.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Little John</span>, a giant figure, leading a donkey, laden with a sack. On the other side, <span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> trips, a slender figure in green trunk-hose and doublet. He is tickling the donkey's ears with a long fern.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">Gee! Whoa!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neddy, my boy, have you forgot the Weaver,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And how Titania tickled your long ears?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ha! ha! Don't ferns remind you?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Friends, my master<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath sent me to you, fearing ye might hunger.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST OLD MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy master?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Robin Hood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND WOMAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Falling on her knees.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">God bless his name.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God bless the kindly name of Robin Hood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Giving them food.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis well nigh all that's left him; and to-night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He goes to his betrothal feast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>All the outcasts except the first old man exeunt.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Pointing to the donkey.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Now look,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's nothing but that shadow of a cross<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On his grey back to tell you of the palms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That once were strewn before my Lord, the King.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Won't ferns, won't branching ferns, do just as well?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's only a dream to ride my donkey now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, Neddy, I'll lead you home and cry—<span class="smcap">Hosanna</span>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll thread the glad Gate Beautiful again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though now there's only a Fool to hold your bridle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And only moonlit ferns to strew your path,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the great King is fighting for a grave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In lands beyond the sea. Come, Neddy, come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hosanna!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> with the donkey. He strews ferns before it as he goes.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST OLD MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">'Tis a strange creature, master! Thinkest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's fairy blood in him?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">'Twas he that brought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Word of your plight to Robin Hood. He flits<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like Moonshine thro' the forest. He'll be home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before I know it. I must be hastening back.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This makes a sad betrothal night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST OLD MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">That minds me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Couched in the thicket yonder, we overheard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Sheriff tell Prince John....<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Prince John!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST OLD MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i42">You'd best<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warn Robin Hood. They're laying a trap for him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ay! Now I mind me of it! I heard 'em say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They'd take him at the castle.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">To-night?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST OLD MAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i38">To-night!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fly, lad, for God's dear love. Warn Robin Hood!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fly like the wind, or you'll be there too late.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet you'd best be careful. There's five score<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In ambush round the castle.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">I'll be there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An if I have to break five hundred heads!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He rushes off thro' the forest. The old man goes into the thicket after the others. The scene darkens. A soft light, as of the moon, appears between the ferns to the right of the glade, showing <span class="smcap">Oberon</span> and <span class="smcap">Titania</span>.</i>]<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet one night more the gates of fairyland<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are opened by a mortal's kindly deed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Last night the gates were shut, and I heard weeping!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men, women, children, beat upon the gates<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That guard our happy world. They could not sleep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Titania, must not that be terrible,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When mortals cannot sleep?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Yet one night more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear Robin Hood has opened the gates wide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And their poor weary souls can enter in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet one night more we woodland elves may steal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out thro' the gates. I fear the time will come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When they must close for ever; and we no more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall hold our Sherwood revels.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Only love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And love's kind sacrifice can open them.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For when a mortal hurts himself to help<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another, then he thrusts the gates wide open<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between his world and ours.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Ay, but that's rare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That kind of love, Titania, for the gates<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are almost always closed.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Yet one night more!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark, how the fairy host begins to sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within the gates. Wait here and we shall see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What weary souls by grace of Robin Hood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This night shall enter Dreamland. See, they come!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The soft light deepens in the hollow among the ferns and the ivory gates of Dreamland are seen swinging open. The fairy host is heard, singing to invite the mortals to enter.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Song of the fairies.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Forest shall conquer! The Forest shall conquer! The Forest shall conquer!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Your world is growing old;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But a Princess sleeps in the greenwood,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Whose hair is brighter than gold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Forest shall conquer! The Forest shall conquer! The Forest shall conquer!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O hearts that bleed and burn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her lips are redder than roses,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who sleeps in the faëry fern.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Forest shall conquer! The Forest shall conquer! The Forest shall conquer!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By the Beauty that wakes anew<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Milk-white with the fragrant hawthorn<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In the drip of the dawn-red dew.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Forest shall conquer! The Forest shall conquer! The Forest shall conquer!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O hearts that are weary of pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come back to your home in Faërie<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And wait till she wakes again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The victims of the forest-laws steal out of the thicket once more—dark, distorted, lame, blind, serfs with iron collars roun their necks, old men, women and children; and as the fairy song breaks into chorus they pass in procession thro' the beautiful gates. The gates slowly close. The fairy song is heard as dying away in the distance.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Coming out into the glade and holding up her hands to the evening star beyond the tree-tops.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shine, shine, dear star of Love, yet one night more.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span> <i>A banqueting hall in <span class="smcap">Fitzwalter's</span> castle. The guests are +assembling for the betrothal feast of <span class="smcap">Robin</span> and <span class="smcap">Marian</span>. Some of <span class="smcap">Robin +Hood's</span> men, clad in Lincoln green, are just arriving at the doors. +<span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> runs forward to greet them.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come in, my scraps of Lincoln green; come in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My slips of greenwood. You're much wanted here!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Head, heart and eyes, we are all pent up in walls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of stone—nothing but walls on every side—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not a rose to break them—big blind walls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neat smooth stone walls! Come in, my ragged robins;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come in, my jolly minions of the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My straggling hazel-boughs! Hey, bully friar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come in, my knotted oak! Ho, little Much,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come in, my sweet green linnet. Come, my cushats,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Larks, yellow-hammers, fern-owls, Oh, come in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come in, my Dian's foresters, and drown us<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With may, with blossoming may!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Out, Shadow-of-a-Leaf!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Welcome, welcome, good friends of Huntingdon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or Robin Hood, by whatsoever name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You best may love him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">CRIES<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Robin! Robin! Robin!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Robin Hood</span>.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Robin, so be it! Myself I am right glad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To call him at this bright betrothal feast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My son.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Lays a hand on <span class="smcap">Robin's</span> shoulder.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Yet, though I would not cast a cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across our happy gathering, you'll forgive<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An old man and a father if he sees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All your glad faces thro' a summer mist<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sadness.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Sadness? Yes, I understand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No, Robin, no, you cannot understand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">Where's Marian?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, that's all you think of, boy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I must say a word to all of you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before she comes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Why—what?...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">No need to look<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So startled; but it is no secret here;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For many of you are sharers of his wild<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adventures. Now I hoped an end had come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To these, until another rumour reached me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This very day, of yet another prank.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You know, you know, how perilous a road<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Marian must ride if Huntingdon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tramples the forest-laws beneath his heel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, in the thin disguise of Robin Hood,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Succours the Saxon outlaws, makes his house<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A refuge for them, lavishes his wealth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To feed their sick and needy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The <span class="smcap">Sheriff</span> and two of his men appear in the great doorway out of sight of the guests.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Whispering.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Not yet! keep back!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of you go—see that the guards are set!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He must not slip us.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Oh, I know his heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is gold, but this is not an age of gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And those who have must keep, or lose the power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even to help themselves. No—he must doff<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His green disguise of Robin Hood for ever,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wear his natural coat of Huntingdon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, which is the disguise? Day after day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We rise and put our social armour on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A different mask for every friend; but steel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Always to case our hearts. We are all so wrapped,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So swathed, so muffled in habitual thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That now I swear we do not know our souls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or bodies from their winding-sheets; but Custom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Custom, the great god Custom, all day long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shovels the dirt upon us where we lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Buried alive and dreaming that we stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upright and royal. Sir, I have great doubts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About this world, doubts if we have the right<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sit down here for this betrothal feast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gorge ourselves with plenty, when we know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That for the scraps and crumbs which we let fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never miss, children would kiss our hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And women weep in gratitude. Suppose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A man fell wounded at your gates, you'd not</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pass on and smile and leave him there to die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And can a few short miles of distance blind you?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Miles, nay, a furlong is enough to close<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gates of mercy. Must we thrust our hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the wounds before we can believe?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, is our sight so thick and gross? We came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We saw, we conquered with the Conqueror.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We gave ourselves broad lands; and when our king<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Desired a wider hunting ground we set<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hundreds of Saxon homes a-blaze and tossed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Women and children back into the fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If they but wrung their hands against our will.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so we made our forest, and its leaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were pitiful, more pitiful than man.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They gave our homeless victims the same refuge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And happy hiding place they give the birds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And foxes. Then we made our forest-laws,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he that dared to hunt, even for food,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even on the ground where we had burned his hut,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ground we had drenched with his own kindred's blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor foolish churl, why, we put out his eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With red-hot irons, cut off both his hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Torture him with such horrors that ... Christ God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How can I help but fight against it all?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, gossips, if the Conqueror had but burned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Everything with four walls, hut, castle, palace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And turned the whole wide world into a forest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drenched us with may, we might be happy then!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sweet blue wood-smoke curling thro' the boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And just a pigeon's flap to break the silence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ferns, of course, there's much to make men happy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well, well, the forest conquers at the last!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw a thistle in the castle courtyard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A purple thistle breaking thro' the pavement,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yesterday; and it's wonderful how soon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some creepers pick these old grey walls to pieces.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These nunneries and these monasteries now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They don't spring up like flowers, so I suppose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old mother Nature wins the race at last.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Robin, my heart is with you, but I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hundred ages will not change this earth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>With a candle in his hand.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gossip, suppose the sun goes out like this.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pouf!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Blows it out.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Stranger things have happened.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">Silence, fool!...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, if you share your wealth with all the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth will be none the better, and my poor girl<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will suffer for it. Where you got the gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have already lavished on the poor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven knows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">Oh, by the mass and the sweet moon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Sherwood, so do I? That's none so hard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A riddle!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">Ah, Friar Tuck, we know, we know!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the hawthorn bough, and at the foot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of rainbows, that's where fairies hide their gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cut me a silver penny out of the moon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Next time you're there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Whispers.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Now tell me, have you brought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your quarter-staff?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Whispering.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Hush! hush.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Oh, mum's the word!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see it!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Believe me, Robin, there's one way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And only one—patience! When Lion-Heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes home from the Crusade, he will not brook<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This blot upon our chivalry. Prince John<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is dangerous to a heart like yours. Beware<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of rousing him. Meanwhile, your troth holds good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, till the King comes home from the Crusade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You must not claim your bride.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">So be it, then....<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the great King comes home from the Crusade!...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile for Marian's sake and mine, I pray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do nothing rash.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Widow Scarlet</span>. She goes up to <span class="smcap">Robin Hood</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">WIDOW SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Are you that Robin Hood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They call the poor man's friend?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">I am.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">WIDOW SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i40">They told me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They told me I should find you here. They told me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, mother, what's the trouble?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">WIDOW SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Sir, my son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will Scarlet lies in gaol at Nottingham<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For killing deer in Sherwood! Sir, they'll hang him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He only wanted food for him and me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They'll kill him, I tell you, they'll kill him. I can't help<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crying it out. He's all I have, all! Save him!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll pray for you, I'll ...</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>To <span class="smcap">Fitzwalter</span>, as he raises <span class="smcap">Widow Scarlet</span> gently to her feet.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Sir, has not the King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come home from the Crusade? Does not your heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fling open wide its gates to welcome him?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Robin, you set me riddles. Follow your conscience.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do what seems best.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">I hope there is a way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mother. I knew Will Scarlet. Better heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There never beat beneath a leather jerkin.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He loved the forest and the forest loves him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if the lads that wear the forest's livery<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of living green should happen to break out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And save Will Scarlet (as on my soul I swear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mother, they shall!) why, that's a matter none<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall answer for to prince, or king, or God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you and Robin Hood; and if the judgment<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strike harder upon us than the heavenly smile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sunshine thro' the greenwood, may it fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon my head alone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter the <span class="smcap">Sheriff</span>, with two of his men.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Reads.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">In the King's name!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, Earl of Huntingdon, by virtue of this writ art hereby<br /></span> +<span class="i0">attainted and deprived of thine earldom, thy lands and all thy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">goods and chattels whatsoever and whereas thou hast at divers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">times trespassed against the officers of the king by force of<br /></span> +<span class="i0">arms, thou art hereby outlawed and banished the realm.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That's well.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He laughs.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">It puts an end to the great question<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of how I shall dispose my wealth, Fitzwalter.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But "banished"?—No! that is beyond their power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I have power to breathe, unless they banish<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The kind old oaks of Sherwood. They may call it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Outlawed," perhaps.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Who let the villain in<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' doors of mine?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">CRIES<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Out with him! Out with him!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The guests draw swords and the <span class="smcap">Sheriff</span> retreats thro' the doorway with his men.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i46">Stop!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Put up your swords! He had his work to do.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Widow Scarlet</span> falls sobbing at his feet.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">WIDOW SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O master, master, who will save my son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My son?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Raising her.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Why, mother, this is but a dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This poor fantastic strutting show of law!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you shall wake with us in Sherwood Forest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And find Will Scarlet in your arms again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, cheerly, cheerly, we shall overcome<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All this. Hark!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>A bugle sounds in the distance. There is a scuffle in the doorway and <span class="smcap">Little John</span> bursts in with his head bleeding.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Master, master, come away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are setting a trap for thee, drawing their lines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All round the castle.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">How now, Little John,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They have wounded thee! Art hurt?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">No, no, that's nothing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only a bloody cockscomb. Come, be swift,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, if thou wert a fox, thou'dst never slip<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between 'em. Ah, hear that?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Another bugle sounds from another direction.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">That's number two.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two sides cut off already. When the third<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sounds—they will have thee, sure as eggs is eggs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prince John is there, Fitzwalter cannot save 'ee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They'll burn the castle down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Prince John is there?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, and my lord Fitzwalter had best look<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well to my mistress Marian, if these ears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heard right as I came creeping thro' their lines.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look well to her, my lord, look well to her.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, master, come, for God's sake, come away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Robin, this is thy rashness. I warned thee, boy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prince John! Nay, that's too perilous a jest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For even a prince to play with me. Come, Robin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You must away and quickly.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Let me have<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One word with Marian.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">It would be the last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On earth. Come, if you ever wish to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her face again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Come, Robin, are you mad?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll bring us all to ruin!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He opens a little door in the wall.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">The secret passage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This brings you out by Much the Miller's wheel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' an otter's burrow in the river bank.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, quick, or you'll destroy us! Take this lanthorn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you're in danger, slip into the stream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let it carry you down into the heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Sherwood. Come now, quickly, you must go!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The old cave, lads, in Sherwood, you know where<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To find me. Friar Tuck, bring Widow Scarlet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thither to-morrow, with a word or two<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Lady Marian!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Quickly, quickly, go.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He pushes <span class="smcap">Robin</span> and <span class="smcap">Little John</span> into the opening and shuts the door. A pause.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, I shall pay for this, this cursed folly!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Henceforth I swear I wash my hands of him!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Marian</span>, from a door on the right above the banqueting hall. She pauses, pale and frightened, on the broad steps leading down.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Father, where's Robin?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Child, I bade you stay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until I called you.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Something frightened me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Father, where's Robin? Where's Robin?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">Hush, Marian, hark!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>All stand listening.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Stealing to the foot of the stairs and whispering to <span class="smcap">Lady Marian</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lady, they're all so silent now. I'll tell you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I had a dream last night—there was a man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That bled to death, because of four grey walls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a black-hooded nun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Angrily.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Hist, Shadow-of-a-Leaf!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The third bugle sounds. There is a clamour at the doors. Enter <span class="smcap">Prince John</span> and his retainers.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Mockingly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now this is fortunate! I come in time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see—Oh, what a picture! Lady Marian,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgive me—coming suddenly out of the dark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seeing you there, robed in that dazzling white<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above these verdant gentlemen, I feel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like one that greets the gracious evening star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' a gap in a great wood.<br /></span> +<span class="i30">Is aught amiss?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why are you all so silent? Ah, my good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My brave Fitzwalter, I most fervently<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust I am not inopportune.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">My lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am glad that you can jest. I am sadly grieved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sorely disappointed in that youth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who has incurred your own displeasure.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">Ah?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your future son-in-law?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Never on earth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is outlawed—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Outlawed!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">And I wash my hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Huntingdon. His shadow shall not darken<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My doors again!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">That's vehement! Ha! ha!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what does Lady Marian say?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">My father<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speaks hastily. I am not so unworthy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Unworthy?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Yes, unworthy as to desert him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because he is in trouble—the bravest man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In England since the days of Hereward.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You know why he is outlawed!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>To <span class="smcap">Prince John.</span></i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Sir, she speaks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the spoilt child of her old father's dotage.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give her no heed. She shall not meet with him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On earth again, and till she promise this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She'll sun herself within the castle garden<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never cross the draw-bridge.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Then I'll swim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moat!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ha! ha! well spoken.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Oh, you forget,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Father, you quite forget there is a King;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, when the King comes home from the Crusade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will you forget Prince John and change once more?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Murmurs of assent from the <span class="smcap">Foresters</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Enough of this.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though I be prince, I am vice-gerent too!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fitzwalter, I would have some private talk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With you and Lady Marian. Bid your guests<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remove a little—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">I'll lead them all within!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let them make what cheer they may. Come, friends.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He leads them up the stairs to the inner room.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My lord, I shall return immediately!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">Fitzwalter</span> and the guests.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Marian!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">My lord!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Drawing close to her.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">I have come to urge a plea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On your behalf as well as on my own!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listen, you may not know it—I must tell you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have watched your beauty growing like a flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With—why should I not say it—worship; yes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marian, I will not hide it.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Sir, you are mad!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir, and your bride, your bride, not three months wedded!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You cannot mean ...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Listen to me! Ah, Marian,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'd be more merciful if you knew all!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">D'you think that princes wed to please themselves?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir, English maidens do; and I am plighted<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to a prince, but to an outlawed man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Listen to me! One word! Marian, one word!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I never meant you harm! Indeed, what harm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could come of this? Is not your father poor?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd make him rich! Is not your lover outlawed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd save him from the certain death that waits him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You say the forest-laws afflict your soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his—you say you'd die for their repeal!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well—I'll repeal them. All the churls in England<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall bless your name and mix it in their prayers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With heaven itself.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">The price?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">You call it that!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To let me lay the world before your feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To let me take this little hand in mine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why should I hide my love from you?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">No more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll hear no more! You are a prince, you say?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One word—suppose it some small sacrifice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To save those churls for whom you say your heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bleeds; yet you will not lift your little finger<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To save them! And what hinders you?—A breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dream, a golden rule! Can you not break it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a much greater end?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">I'd die to save them.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then live to save them.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">No, you will not let me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">D'you think that bartering my soul will help<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To save another? If there's no way but this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then through my lips those suffering hundreds cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We choose the suffering. All that is good in them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All you have left, all you have not destroyed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cries out against you: and I'll go to them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suffer and toil and love and die with them<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rather than touch your hand. You over-rate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your power to hurt our souls. You are mistaken!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a golden rule!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">And with such lips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You take to preaching! I was a fool to worry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your soul with reason. With hair like yours—it's hopeless!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Marian—you shall hear me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He catches her in his arms.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Yes, by God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marian, you shall! I love you.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Struggling.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">You should not live!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One kiss, then! Devil take it.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Fitzwalter</span> above.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Wresting herself free.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">You should not live!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were I a man and not a helpless girl<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You should not live!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Come, now, that's very wicked.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See how these murderous words affright your father.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My good Fitzwalter, there's no need to look<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So ghastly. For your sake and hers and mine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have been trying to make your girl forget<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The name of Huntingdon. A few short months<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At our gay court would blot his memory out!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I promise her a life of dazzling pleasures,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, in return she flies at me—a tigress—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clamouring for my blood! Try to persuade her!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My lord, you are very good. She must decide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Herself.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Angrily.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">I'll not be trifled with! I hold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hand of friendship out and you evade it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moment I am gone, back comes your outlaw.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You say you have no power with your own child!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well, then I'll take her back this very night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back to the court with me. How do I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What treasons you are hatching here? I'll take her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As hostage for yourself.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">My lord, you jest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have sworn to you.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">No more! If you be loyal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What cause have you to fear?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">My lord, I'll give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hundred other pledges; but not this.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By heaven, will you dictate your terms to me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I say that she shall come back to the court<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This very night! Ho, there, my men.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">John's</span> retainers.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Escort<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This lady back with us.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Back there, keep back. Prince or no prince,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I say she shall not go!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He draws his sword.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">I'd rather see her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Begging in rags with outlawed Huntingdon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than that one finger of yours should soil her glove.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So here's an end of fawning, here's the truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My old white-bearded hypocrite. Come, take her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waste no more time. Let not the old fool daunt you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that great skewer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>As <span class="smcap">John's</span> men advance.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">By God, since you will have it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since you will drive me to my last resort,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Break down my walls, and hound me to the forest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is the truth! Out of my gates! Ho, help!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Robin Hood! A Robin Hood!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>There is a clamour from the upper room. The doors are flung open and the <span class="smcap">Foresters</span> appear at the head of the steps.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Coming down into the hall and brandishing his quarter-staff.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i42">A Robin?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who calls on Robin Hood? His men are here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To answer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Drive these villains out of my gates.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>To <span class="smcap">Prince John</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir, I perceive you are a man of wisdom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So let me counsel you. There's not a lad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up yonder, but at four-score yards can shoot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A swallow on the wing. They have drunken deep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot answer but their hands might loose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their shafts before they know it. Now shall I give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The word? Ready, my lads!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The <span class="smcap">Foresters</span> make ready to shoot. <span class="smcap">John</span> hesitates for a moment.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">My Lady Marian,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One word, and then I'll take my leave of you!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>She pays no heed.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Farewell, then! I have five-score men at hand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they shall be but lightning to the hell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of my revenge, Fitzwalter. I will not leave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One stone upon another. From this night's work<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall God Himself not save you.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">John</span> and his men.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>As they go out.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">My Lord Fitzwalter!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have confessed him! Shall I bid 'em shoot?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twill save a world of trouble.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">No; or the King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Himself will come against me. Follow them out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drive them out of my gates, then raise the drawbridge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let none cross. Oh, I foresaw, foretold!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robin has wrecked us all!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exeunt the <span class="smcap">Foresters</span> and <span class="smcap">Fitzwalter</span>. <span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> remains alone with <span class="smcap">Marian</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>She flings herself down on a couch and buries her head in her arms.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">O Robin, Robin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot lose you now!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Sitting at her feet. The lights grow dim.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Ah, well, the prince<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Promised to break the walls down. Don't you think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These villains are a sort of ploughshare, lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where they plough, who knows what wheat may spring!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lights are burning low and very low;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, Lady Marian, let me tell my dream.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was a forester that bled to death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because of four grey walls and a black nun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose face I could not see—but, oh, beware!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though I am but your fool, your Shadow-of-a-Leaf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dancing before the wild winds of the future,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I feel them thrilling through my tattered wits<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long ere your wisdom feels them. My poor brain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is like a harp hung in a willow-tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept by the winds of fate. I am but a fool,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But oh, beware of that black-hooded nun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This is no time for jesting, Shadow-of-a-Leaf.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lights are burning low. Do you not feel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A cold breath on your face?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Fling back that shutter!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look out and tell me what is happening.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Flinging back the shutter.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i38">Look,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look, gossip, how the moon comes dancing in.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, they have driven Prince John across the drawbridge.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are raising it, now!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>There are cries in the distance, then a heavy sound of chains clanking and silence. <span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> turns from the window and stands in the stream of moonlight, pointing to the door on the left.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Look! Look!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Starting up with a cry of fear.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">Ah!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The tall figure of a nun glides into the moonlit hall and throwing back her hood reveals the face of <span class="smcap">Queen Elinor</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i38">Lady Marion,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell me quickly, where is Huntingdon hiding?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Queen!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes! Yes! I donned this uncouth garb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pass through your besiegers. If Prince John<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Discover it, all is lost. Come, tell me quickly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is Robin?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Escaped, I hope.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Not here?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Come, dear Lady Marian, do not doubt me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am here to save you both.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">He is not here.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, but you know where I may find him, Marian.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All will be lost if you delay to tell me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where I may speak with him. He is in peril.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By dawn Prince John will have five hundred men</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beleaguering the castle. You are all ruined<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless you trust me! Armies will scour the woods<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hunt him down. Even now he may be wounded,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Helpless to save himself.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Wounded!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Dear child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take me to him. Here, on this holy cross,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My mother's dying gift, I swear to you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wish to save him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">Oh, but how?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Trust me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wounded! He may be wounded! Oh, if I could,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd go to him! I am helpless, prisoned here.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My father ...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I alone can save your father.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me your word that if I can persuade him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll lead me to your lover's hiding place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let me speak with him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Fitzwalter</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Ah, my Lord Fitzwalter!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The queen! O madam, madam, I am driven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond myself. This girl, this foolish girl<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has brought us all to ruin. This Huntingdon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I foresaw, foresaw, foretold, foretold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has dragged me down with him.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">I am on your side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you will hear me; and you yet may gain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A son in Robin Hood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Madam, I swear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have done with him. I pray you do not jest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if you'll use your power to save my lands ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was provoked!...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prince John required this child here—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">Oh, I know!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you'll forgive him that! I do not wonder<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That loveliness like hers—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Ay, but you'll pardon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A father's natural anger. Madam, I swear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was indeed provoked. But you'll assure him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've washed my hands of Huntingdon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">And yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His men are, even now, guarding your walls!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Father, you cannot, you shall not—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">Oh, be silent!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who wrapt me in this tangle? Are you bent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On driving me out in my old age to seek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shelter in caves and woods?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">My good Fitzwalter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It has not come to that! If you will trust me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All will be well; but I must speak a word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Robin Hood.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">You!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">Oh, I have a reason.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your daughter knows his hiding place.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">She knows!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, trust them both for that. I am risking much!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-morrow she shall guide me there. This bird<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Being flown, trust me to make your peace with John.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But—Marian!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">She'll be safer far with Robin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than loitering here until your roof-tree burns.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I think you know it. Fitzwalter, I can save you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I swear it on this cross.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">But—Marian! Marian!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Your castle wrapt in flame!...<br /></span> +<span class="i30">There's nought to fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If she could—Marian, once, at a court masque,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You wore a page's dress of Lincoln green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a green hood that muffled half your face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I could have sworn 'twas Robin come again—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was my page, you know—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wear it to-morrow—go, child, bid your maid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make ready—we'll set out betimes.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Going up to her father.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">I'll go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you will let me, father. He may be wounded!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Father, forgive me. Let me go to him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Go, child, first do my bidding. He'll consent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When you return.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Marian</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">My dear good friend Fitzwalter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust me, <i>I</i> have some power with Huntingdon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All shall be as you wish. I'll let her guide me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But—as for her—she shall not even see him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless you wish. Trust me to wind them all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around my little finger.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">It is dark here.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let us within. Madam, I think you are right.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you'll persuade Prince John?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>As they go up the steps.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">I swear by this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This holy cross, my mother's dying gift!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It's very sure he'd burn the castle down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exeunt.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Coming out into the moonlight and staring up after them.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The nun! The nun! They'll whip me if I speak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I am only Shadow-of-a-Leaf, the Fool.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> +<h2>ACT II</h2> + + +<p><i><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span> Sherwood Forest: An open glade, showing on the right the mouth +of the outlaw's cave. It is about sunset. The giant figure of <span class="smcap">Little +John</span> comes out of the cave, singing.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Sings.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">When Spring comes back to England<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And crowns her brows with may,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Round the merry moonlit world<br /></span> +<span class="i10">She goes the greenwood way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He stops and calls in stentorian tones.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Much! Much! Much! Where has he vanished now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where has that monstrous giant the miller's son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hidden himself?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Much</span>, a dwarf-like figure, carrying a large bundle of ferns.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MUCH<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Hush, hush, child, here I am!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And here's our fairy feather-beds, ha! ha!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, praise me, praise me, for a thoughtful parent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's nothing makes a better bed than ferns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Either for sleeping sound or rosy dreams.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Take care the fern-seed that the fairies use<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Get not among thy yellow locks, my Titan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or thou'lt wake up invisible. There's none<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too much of Much already.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MUCH<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Looking up at him impudently.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">It would take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our big barn full of fern-seed, I misdoubt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make thee walk invisible, Little John,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My sweet Tom Thumb! And, in this troublous age</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of forest-laws, if we night-walking minions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We gentlemen of the moon, could only hunt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Invisible, there's many and many of us<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thumbs lopped off, eyes gutted and legs pruned,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slick, like poor pollarded pear-trees, would be lying<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy and whole this day beneath the boughs.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Invisible? Ay, but what would Jenny say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To such a ghostly midge as thou would'st be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sipping invisibly at her cherry lips.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MUCH<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, there now, that's a teaser. E'en as it is<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Don't joke about it) my poor Jenny takes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The smallness of her Much sorely to heart!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though I often tell her half a loaf<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Ground in our mill) is better than no bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She weeps, poor thing, that an impartial heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bestows on her so small a crumb of bliss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As me! You'd scarce believe, now, half the nostrums,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Possets and strangely nasty herbal juices<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That girl has made me gulp, in the vain hope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I, the frog, should swell to an ox like thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I tell her it's all in vain, and she still cheats<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her fancy and swears I've grown well nigh three feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Already. O Lord, she's desperate. She'll advance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Right inward to the sources of creation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She'll take the reins of the world in hand. She'll stop<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun like Joshua, turn the moon to blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if I have to swallow half the herbs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Sherwood, I shall stalk a giant yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shoulder to shoulder with thee, Little John,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And crack thy head at quarter-staff. But don't,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Don't joke about it. 'Tis a serious matter.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Into the cave, then, with thy feather-bed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Much, thy father, waits thee there to make<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A table of green turfs for Robin Hood.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">We shall have guests anon, O merry times,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Baron and Knight and abbot, all that ride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through Sherwood, all shall come and dine with him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When they have paid their toll! Old Much is there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Growling at thy delay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MUCH<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Going towards the cave.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">O, my poor father.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, there's a sad thing, too. He is so ashamed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his descendants. Why for some nine years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shut his eyes whenever he looked at me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I have seen him on the village green<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pretend to a stranger, once, who badgered him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With curious questions, that I was the son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of poor old Gaffer Bramble, the lame sexton.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That self-same afternoon, up comes old Bramble<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White hair a-blaze and big red waggling nose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All shaking with the palsy; bangs our door<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clean off its hinges with his crab-tree crutch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stands there—framed—against the sunset sky!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He stretches out one quivering fore-finger<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At father, like the great Destroying Angel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the stained window: straight, the milk boiled over,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cat ran, baby squalled and mother screeched.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Bramble asks my father—what—what—what<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He meant—he meant—he meant! You should have seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My father's hopeless face! Lord, how he blushed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red as a beet-root! Lord, Lord, how he blushed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis a hard business when a parent looks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Askance upon his offspring.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exit into the cave.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Skip, you chatterer!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here comes our master.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Robin Hood</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Master, where hast thou been?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I feared some harm had come to thee. What's this?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This was a cloth-yard shaft that tore thy coat!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, ay, they barked my shoulder, devil take them.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I got it on the borders of the wood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">St. Nicholas, my lad, they're on the watch.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What didst thou there? They're on the watch, i' faith!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A squirrel could not pass them. Why, my namesake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prince John would sell his soul to get thy head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And both his ears for Lady Marian;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whether his ears or soul be worth the more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know not. When the first lark flittered up<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sing, at dawn, I woke; and thou wast gone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What didst thou there?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Well, first I went to swim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the deep pool below the mill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">I swam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough last night to last me many a day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What then?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I could not wash away the thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all you told me. If Prince John should dare!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That helpless girl! No, no, I will not think it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, Little John, I went and tried to shoot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A grey goose wing thro' Lady Marian's casement.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, ay, and a pink nosegay tied beneath it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, master, you'll forgive your Little John,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But that's midsummer madness and the may<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is only half in flower as yet. But why—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You are wounded—why are you so pale?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i40">No—no—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not wounded; but oh, my good faithful friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She is not there! I wished to send her warning.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I could not creep much closer; but I swear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I think the castle is in the hands of John.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw some men upon the battlements,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not hers—I know—not hers!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hist, who comes here?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He seizes his bow and stands ready to shoot.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stop, man, it is the fool. Thank God, the fool,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shadow-of-a-Leaf, my Marian's dainty fool.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How now, good fool, what news? What news?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Good fool!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should I be bad, sir, if I chanced to bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No news at all? That is the wise man's way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thank heaven, I've lost my wits. I am but a leaf<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dancing upon the wild winds of the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A prophet blown before them. Well, this evening,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is that lovely grey wind from the West<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That silvers all the fields and all the seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'm the herald of May!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Come, Shadow-of-a-Leaf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I pray thee, do not jest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">I do not jest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am vaunt-courier to a gentleman,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sweet slim page in Lincoln green who comes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wood-knife on hip, and wild rose in his face,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With golden news of Marian. Oh, his news<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is one crammed honeycomb, swelling with sweetness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In twenty thousand cells; but delicate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So send thy man aside.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Go, Little John.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Little John</span> goes into the cave.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well, Shadow-of-a-Leaf, where is he?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">At this moment<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His hair is tangled in a rose bush: hark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He swears, like a young leopard! Nay, he is free.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, master page, here is that thief of love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give him your message. I'll to Little John.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exit into the cave. Enter <span class="smcap">Marian</span>, as a page in Lincoln green, her face muffled in a hood.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Good even, master page, what is thy news<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Lady Marian?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>She stands silent.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Answer me quickly, come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hide not thy face!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>She still stands muffled and silent.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Come, boy, the fool is chartered,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not thou; and I'll break off this hazel switch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make thee dance if thou not answer me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What? Silent still? Sirrah, this hazel wand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall lace thee till thou tingle, top to toe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll ...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Unmuffling.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Robin!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Catches her in his arms with a cry.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Marian! Marian!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Fie upon you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robin, you did not know me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Embracing her.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i38">Oh, you seemed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ten thousand miles away. This is not moonlight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I am not Endymion. Could I dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Dian would come wandering through the fern<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the sunset? Even that rose your face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You muffled in its own green leaves.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i38">But you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were hidden in the heart of Sherwood, Robin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hidden behind a million mighty boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet I found you.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">Ay, the young moon stole<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In pity down to her poor shepherd boy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he could never climb the fleecy clouds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up to her throne, never could print one kiss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On her immortal lips. He lay asleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the poppies and the crags of Latmos,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she came down to him, his queen stole down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, Robin, first a rose and then a moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A rose that breaks at a breath and falls to your feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fickle moon—Oh, hide me from the world;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For there they say love goes by the same law!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me be outlawed then. I cannot change.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweetheart, sweetheart, Prince John will hunt me down!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prince John—Queen Elinor will hunt me down!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Queen Elinor! Nay, but tell me what this means?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How came you here?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">The Queen—she came last night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made it an odious kind of praise to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he, not three months wedded to his bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should—pah!<br /></span> +<span class="i16">And then she said five hundred men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were watching round the borders of the wood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But she herself would take me safely through them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said that I should be safer here with Robin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She had your name so pat—and I gave way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Queen Elinor</span> behind. She conceals herself to listen.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Marian, she might have trapped you to Prince John.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No; no; I think she wanted me to guide her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here to your hiding place. She wished to see you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Herself, unknown to John, I know not why.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was my only way. Her skilful tongue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quite won my father over, made him think,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor father, clinging to his lands again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He yet might save them. And so, without ado<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(It will be greatly to the joy of Much,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your funny little man), I bade my maid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jenny, go pack her small belongings up<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This morning, and to follow with Friar Tuck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Widow Scarlet. They'll be here anon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where did you leave the Queen?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Robin, she tried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To kill me! We were deep within the wood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she began to tell me a wild tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying that I reminded her of days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Robin was her page, and how you came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Court, a breath of April in her life,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And how you worshipped her, and how she grew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To love you. But she saw you loved me best<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(So would she mix her gall and lies with honey),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So she would let you go. And then she tried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To turn my heart against you, bade me think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all the perils of your outlawry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then flamed with anger when she found my heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Steadfast; and when I told her we drew nigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cave, she bade me wait and let her come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First, here, to speak with you. Some devil's trick<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleamed in her smile, the way some women have<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of smiling with their lips, wreathing the skin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In pleasant ripples, laughing with their teeth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the cold eyes watch, cruel as a snake's<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fascinates a bird. I'd not obey her.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She whipped a dagger out. Had it not been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Shadow-of-a-Leaf, who dogged us all the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor faithful fool, and leapt out at her hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She would have killed me. Then she darted away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a wild thing into the woods, trying to find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your hiding place most like.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">O Marian, why,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why did you trust her? Listen, who comes here?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Friar Tuck</span>, <span class="smcap">Jenny</span> and <span class="smcap">Widow Scarlet</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, Friar Tuck!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Good Jenny!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">And Widow Scarlet!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O children, children, this is thirsty weather!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heads I have cracked, the ribs I have thwacked, the bones<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have bashed with my good quarter-staff, to bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These bits of womankind through Sherwood Forest.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What, was there scuffling, friar?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Some two or three<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pounced on us, ha! ha! ha!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JENNY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">A score at least,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mistress, most unchaste ruffians.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">They've gone home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well chastened by the Church. This pastoral staff<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine oaken <i>Pax Vobiscum</i>, sent 'em home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To think about their sins, with watering eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You never saw a bunch of such blue faces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bumpy and juicy as a bunch of grapes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bruised in a Bacchanalian orgy, dripping<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The reddest wine a man could wish to see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I picture it—those big brown hands of thine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grape-gathering at their throttles, ha! ha! ha!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, Widow Scarlet, come, look not so sad.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">WIDOW SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O master, master, they have named the day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For killing of my boy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">They have named the day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For setting of him free, then, my good dame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be not afraid. We shall be there, eh, Friar?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grape-gathering, eh?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Thou'lt not be there thyself.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My son, the game's too dangerous now, methinks.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I shall be there myself. The game's too good<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lose. We'll all be there. You're not afraid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marian, to spend a few short hours alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here in the woods with Jenny.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Not for myself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">We shall want every hand that day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you'll be safe enough. You know we go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Disguised as gaping yokels, old blind men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With patches on their eyes, poor wandering beggars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pedlars with pins and poking-sticks to sell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when the time is come—a merry blast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rings out upon a bugle and suddenly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Sheriff is aware that Sherwood Forest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has thrust its green boughs up beneath his feet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Off go the cloaks and all is Lincoln green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great thwacking clubs and twanging bows of yew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, we break up like nature thro' the laws<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that dark world; and then, good Widow Scarlet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back to the cave we come and your good Will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winds his big arm about you once again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go, Friar, take her in and make her cosy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jenny, your Much will grow three feet at least<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With joy to welcome you. He is in the cave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Friar Tuck</span> and <span class="smcap">Widow Scarlet</span> go towards the cave.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now for a good bowse at a drinking can.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've got one cooling in the cave, unless<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That rascal, Little John, has drunk it all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exeunt into cave.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JENNY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>To <span class="smcap">Marian.</span></i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mistress, I haven't spoke a word to you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For nigh three hours. 'Tis most unkind, I think.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Go, little tyrant, and be kind to Much.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JENNY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mistress, it isn't Much I want. Don't think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jenny comes trapesing through these awful woods<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Much. I haven't spoke a word with you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For nigh three hours. 'Tis most unkind, I think.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wait, Jenny, then, I'll come and talk with you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robin, she is a tyrant; but she loves me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if I do not go, she'll pout and sulk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three days on end. But she's a wondrous girl.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She'd work until she dropped for me. Poor Jenny!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That's a quaint tyranny. Go, dear Marian, go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not for long. We have so much to say.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come quickly back.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Marian. Robin</span> paces thoughtfully across the glade.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i><span class="smcap">Queen Elinor</span> steals out of her hiding place and stands before him.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">You here!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Robin, can you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Believe that girl? Am I so treacherous?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It seems you have heard whate'er I had to say.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Surely you cannot quite forget those days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When you were kind to me. Do you remember<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sunset through that oriel?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Ay, a god<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grinning thro' a horse-collar at a pitiful page,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dazed with the first red gleam of what he thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life, as the trouveres find it! I am ashamed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remembering how your quick tears blinded me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ashamed! You—you—that in my bitter grief<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Rosamund—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">I know! I thought your woes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those tawdry relics of your treacheries,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrongs quite unparalleled. I would have fought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roland himself to prove you spotless then.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, you speak thus to me! Robin, beware!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have come to you, I have trampled on my pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Set all on this one cast! If you should now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reject me, humble me to the dust before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That girl, beware! I never forget, I warn you;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I never forgive.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Are you so proud of that?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, well, forgive me, Robin. I'll save you yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From all these troubles of your outlawry!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust me—for I can wind my poor Prince John<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around my little finger. Who knows—with me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To help you—there are but my two sons' lives<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That greatly hinder it—why, yourself might reign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the throne of England.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Are you so wrapped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In treacheries, helplessly false, even to yourself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That now you do not know falsehood from truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darkness from light?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">O Robin, I was true<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At least to you. If I were false to others,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At least I—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">No—not that—that sickening plea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of truth in treachery. Treachery cannot live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With truth. The soul wherein they are wedded dies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of leprosy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Coming closer to him.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Have you no pity, Robin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No kinder word than this for the poor creature<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That crept—Ah, feel my heart, feel how it beats!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No pity?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Five years ago this might have moved me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No pity?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">None. There is no more to say.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My men shall guide you safely through the wood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I never forgive!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Marian</span> from the cave; she stands silent and startled.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">My men shall guide you back.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Calls.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ho, there, my lads!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter several of the <span class="smcap">Outlaws</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">This lady needs a guide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back thro' the wood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Good-bye, then, Robin, and good-bye to you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet mistress! You have wronged me! What of that?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For—when we meet—Come, lead on, foresters!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exeunt the <span class="smcap">Queen</span> and her guides.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Robin, Robin, how the clouds begin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To gather—how that woman seems to have brought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A nightmare on these woods.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Forget it all!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She is so tangled in those lies the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Draws round some men and women, none can help her.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marian, for God's sake, let us quite forget<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That nightmare! Oh, that perfect brow of yours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those perfect eyes, pure as the violet wells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That only mirror heaven and are not dimmed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Except by clouds that drift thro' heaven and catch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God's glory in the sunset and the dawn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is enough for them simply to speak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The love they hold for you. But—I still fear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robin—think you—she might have overheard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your plan—the rescue of Will Scarlet?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i42">Why—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No—No—some time had passed, and yet—she seemed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To have heard your charge against her! No, she guessed it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come—let us brush these cobwebs from our minds.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look how the first white star begins to tremble<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a big blossom in that sycamore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now you shall hear our forest ritual.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ho, Little John! Summon the lads together!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The <span class="smcap">Outlaws</span> come out of the cave. <span class="smcap">Little John</span> blows a bugle and others come in from the forest.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Friar, read us the rules.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">First, shall no man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Presume to call our Robin Hood or any<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By name of Earl, lord, baron, knight or squire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But simply by their names as men and brothers:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Second, that Lady Marian while she shares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our outlaw life in Sherwood shall be called<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Simply Maid Marian. Thirdly, we that follow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robin, shall never in thought or word or deed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do harm to widow, wife or maid; but hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each, for his mother's or sister's or sweetheart's sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The glory of womanhood, a sacred thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A star twixt earth and heaven. Fourth, whomsoever<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye meet in Sherwood ye shall bring to dine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Robin, saving carriers, posts and folk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ride with food to serve the market towns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or any, indeed, that serve their fellow men.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fifth, you shall never do the poor man wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor spare a priest or usurer. You shall take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waste wealth of the rich to help the poor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The baron's gold to stock the widow's cupboard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The naked ye shall clothe, the hungry feed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lastly shall defend with all your power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that are trampled under by the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old, the sick and all men in distress.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So, if it be no dream, we shall at last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hasten the kingdom of God's will on earth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There shall be no more talk of rich and poor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Norman and Saxon. We shall be one people,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One family, clustering all with happy hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And faces round that glowing hearth, the sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now let the bugle sound a golden challenge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the great world. Greenleaf, a forest call!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Reynold Greenleaf</span> blows a resounding call.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now let the guards be set; and then, to sleep!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-morrow there'll be work enough for all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hut for Jenny and Maid Marian!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, you shall see how what we lack in halls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We find in bowers. Look how from every branch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such tapestries as kings could never buy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wave in the starlight. You'll be waked at dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By feathered choirs whose notes were taught in heaven.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MUCH<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, Jenny, come, we must prepare the hut<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Mistress Marian. Here's a bundle of ferns!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>They go into the hut. The light is growing dimmer and richer.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And here's a red cramoisy cloak, a baron<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Handing them in at the door.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dropt, as he fled one night from Robin Hood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And here's a green, and here's a midnight blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All soft as down. But wait, I'll get you more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Two of the Outlaws appear at the door with deerskins. <span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> stands behind them with a great bunch of flowers and ferns.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST OUTLAW<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here's fawn-skins, milder than a maiden's cheek.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, you should talk in rhyme! The world should sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just for this once in tune, if Love were king!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND OUTLAW<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here's deer-skins, for a carpet, smooth and meek.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I knew you would! Ha! ha! Now look at what I bring!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He throws flowers into the hut, spray by spray, speaking in a kind of ecstasy.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here's lavender and love and sweet wild thyme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dreams and blue-bells that the fairies chime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here's meadow-sweet and moonlight, bound in posies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With ragged robin, traveller's joy and roses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And here—just three leaves from a weeping willow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And here—that's best—deep poppies for your pillow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MUCH<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And here's a pillow that I made myself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stuffed with dry rose-leaves and grey pigeon's down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The softest thing on earth except my heart!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Going aside and throwing himself down among the ferns to watch.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Just three sweet breaths and then the song is flown!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Much</span> looks at him for a moment with a puzzled face, then turns to the hut again.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MUCH<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Jenny, here, take it—though I'm fond of comforts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take it and give it to Maid Marian.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JENNY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, Much, 'tis bigger than thyself.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MUCH<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Hush, child.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I meant to use it lengthways. 'Twould have made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A feather-bed complete for your poor Much,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take it!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The <span class="smcap">Outlaws</span> all go into the cave.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">O Robin, what a fairy palace!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How cold and grey the walls of castles seem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside your forest's fragrant halls and bowers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I do not think that I shall be afraid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sleep this night, as I have often been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath our square bleak battlements.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">And look,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between the boughs, there is your guard, all night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That great white star, white as an angel's wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White as the star that shone on Bethlehem!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good-night, sweetheart, good-night!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Good-night!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i44">One kiss!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, clear bright eyes, dear heavens of sweeter stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where angels play, and your own sweeter soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiles like a child into the face of God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good-night! Good-night!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Marian</span> goes into the hut. The door is shut. <span class="smcap">Robin</span> goes to the mouth of the cave and throws himself down on a couch of deerskins. The light grows dimly rich and fairy-like.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Rising to his knees.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Here comes the little cloud!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>A little moonlit cloud comes floating down between the tree-tops into the glade. <span class="smcap">Titania</span> is seen reposing upon it. She steps to earth. The cloud melts away.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How blows the wind from fairyland, Titania?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shadow-of-a-Leaf, the wicked queen has heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your master's plan for saving poor Will Scarlet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She knows Maid Marian will be left alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unguarded in these woods. The wicked Prince<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will steal upon her loneliness. He plots<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To carry her away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">What can we do?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can I not break my fairy vows and tell?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">No, no; you cannot, even if you would,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Convey our fairy lore to mortal ears.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When have they heard our honeysuckle bugles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blowing reveille to the crimson dawn?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We can but speak by dreams; and, if you spoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They'd whip you, for your words would all ring false<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like sweet bells out of tune.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">What can we do?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nothing, except on pain of death, to stay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The course of Time and Tide. There's Oberon!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oberon!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">He can tell you more than I.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Oberon</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where's Orchis? Where's our fairy trumpeter<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To call the court together?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ORCHIS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Here, my liege.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bugle them hither; let thy red cheeks puff<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until thy curled petallic trumpet thrill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More loudly than a yellow-banded bee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' all the clover clumps and boughs of thyme.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are scattered far abroad.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ORCHIS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">My liege, it shall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Outroar the very wasp!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exit.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>As he speaks, the fairies come flocking from all sides into the glade.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Methinks they grow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too fond of feasting. As I passed this way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw the fairy halls of hollowed oaks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All lighted with their pale green glow-worm lamps.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And under great festoons of maiden-hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their brilliant mushroom tables groaned with food.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hundreds of rose-winged fairies banqueted!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All Sherwood glittered with their prismy goblets<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brimming the thrice refined and luscious dew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not only of our own most purplest violets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But of strange fragrance, wild exotic nectars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drawn from the fairy blossoms of some star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond our tree-tops! Ay, beyond that moon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which is our natural limit—the big lamp<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven lights upon our boundary.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ORCHIS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Mighty King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Court is all attendant on thy word.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>With great dignity.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Elves, pixies, nixies, gnomes and leprechauns,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He pauses.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We are met, this moonlight, for momentous councils<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Concerning those two drowsy human lovers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maid Marian and her outlawed Robin Hood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are in dire peril; yet we may not break<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our vows of silence. Many a time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has Robin Hood by kindly words and deeds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Done in his human world, sent a new breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of life and joy like Spring to fairyland;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at the moth-hour of this very dew-fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saved a fairy, whom he thought, poor soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only a may-fly in a spider's web,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saved her from the clutches of that Wizard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Cruel Thing, that dark old Mystery,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom ye all know and shrink from—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exclamations of horror from the fairies.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Plucked her forth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So gently that not one bright rainbow gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon her wings was clouded, not one flake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of bloom brushed off—there lies the broken web.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go, look at it; and here is pale Perilla<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To tell you all the tale.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The fairies cluster to look at the web, etc.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A FAIRY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Can we not make them free<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fairyland, like Shadow-of-a-Leaf, to come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And go, at will, upon the wings of dreams?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not till they lose their wits like Shadow-of-a-Leaf.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Can I not break my fairy vows and tell?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Only on pain of what we fairies call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Death?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Never to join our happy revels,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never to pass the gates of fairyland<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again, but die like mortals. What that means<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We do not know—who knows?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">If I could save them!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am only Shadow-of-a-Leaf!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">There is a King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the seas. If he came home in time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All might be well. We fairies only catch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stray gleams, wandering shadows of things to come.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, if the King came home from the Crusade!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why will he fight for graves beyond the sea?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our elfin couriers brought the news at dusk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Lion-Heart, while wandering home thro' Europe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In jet-black armour, like an errant knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Despite the great red cross upon his shield,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was captured by some wicked prince and thrust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into a dungeon. Only a song, they say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can break those prison-bars. There is a minstrel</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That loves his King. If he should roam the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Singing until from that dark tower he hears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King reply, the King would be set free.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Only a song, only a minstrel?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Ay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Blondel is his name.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>A long, low sound of wailing is heard in the distance. The fairies shudder and creep together.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Hark, what is that?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The cry of the poor, the cry of the oppressed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sound of women weeping for their children,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The victims of the forest laws. The moan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that dark world where mortals live and die<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweeps like an icy wind thro' fairyland.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oh, it may grow bitterer yet, that sound!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas Merlin's darkest prophecy that earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should all be wrapped in smoke and fire, the woods<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hewn down, the flowers discoloured and the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Begrimed, until the rows of lifeless trees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the greasy sunset seemed no more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than sooty smudges of an ogre's thumbs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the sweating forehead of a slave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While, all night long, fed with the souls of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bodies, too, great forges blast and burn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the great ogre's cauldrons brim with gold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The wailing sound is heard again in the distance.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">To be shut out for ever, only to hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those cries! I am only Shadow-of-a-Leaf, the fool,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot face it! Is there no hope but this?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No hope for Robin and Maid Marian?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If the great King comes home from the Crusade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In time! If not,—there is another King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the world, they say.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Death, that dark death!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To leave the sunlight and the flowers for ever!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot bear it! Oh, I cannot tell them.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll wait—perhaps the great King will come home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If not—Oh, hark, a wandering minstrel's voice?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who is drawing hither? Listen, fairies, listen!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Song heard approaching thro' the wood.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Knight on the narrow way,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Where wouldst thou ride?<br /></span> +<span class="i10">"Onward," I heard him say,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">"Love, to thy side!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">"Nay," sang a bird above;<br /></span> +<span class="i12">"Stay, for I see<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Death in the mask of love,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Waiting for thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The song breaks off. Enter a <span class="smcap">Minstrel</span>, leading a great white steed. He pauses, confronted by the fairy host. The moonlight dazzles him.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Minstrel, art thou, too, free of fairyland?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where wouldst thou ride? What is thy name?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MINSTREL<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i44">My name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is Blondel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Blondel!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE FAIRIES<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">Blondel!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MINSTREL<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">And I ride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through all the world to seek and find my King!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He passes through the fairy host and goes into the woods on the further side of the glade, continuing his song, which dies away in the distance.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">[<i>Song.</i>]<br /></span> +<span class="i12">"Death? What is death?" he cried.<br /></span> +<span class="i14">"I must ride on,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">On to my true love's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Up to her throne!"<br /></span> +<span class="i18">[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ACT III</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span> <i>May-day. An open place (near <span class="smcap">Nottingham</span>). A crowd of rustics +and townsfolk assembling to see the execution of <span class="smcap">Will Scarlet</span>.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A sad may-day! Where yonder gallows glowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We should have raised the may-pole.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Ay, no songs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No kisses in the ring, no country dances<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-day; no lads and lasses on the green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crowning their queen of may.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Robin Hood</span>, disguised as an old beggar, with a green patch on one eye.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Is this the place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Masters, where they're a-goin' to hang Will Scarlet?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, father, more's the pity.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Eh! Don't ye think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There may be scuffling, masters? There's a many<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That seems to like him well, here, roundabouts.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Too many halberts round him. There's no chance.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I've heard the forest might break out, the lads<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Lincoln green, you wot of! If they did?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There's many here would swing a cudgel and help<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To trip the Sheriff up. If Robin Hood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were only here! But then he's outlawed now.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, and there's big rewards out. It would be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure death for him to try a rescue now.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The biggest patch of Lincoln Green we'll see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This day, is that same patch on thy old eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eh, lads!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THIRD RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">What's more, they say Prince John is out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This very day, scouring thro' Sherwood forest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In quest of Lady Marian!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Sharply.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">You heard that?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THIRD RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, for they say she's flown to Sherwood forest.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! Ah? That's why he went. I saw Prince John!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With these same eyes I saw him riding out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Sherwood, not an hour ago.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">You saw him?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, and he only took three men at arms.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three men at arms! Why then, he must ha' known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Robin's men would all be busy here!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's none so bold, he would not risk his skin!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I think there'll be some scuffling after all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, tell 'em so—go, spread it thro' the crowd!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">[<i>He mutters to himself.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He'd take some time, to find her, but 'fore God<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We must be quick; 'fore God we must be quick!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, father, one would never think to see thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou had'st so sound a heart!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Ah, here they come!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Sheriff and his men; and, in the midst,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's poor Will Scarlet bound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE CROWD MURMURS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Ah, here they come!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look at the halberts shining! Can you see him?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, there he is. His face is white: but, Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He takes it bravely.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">He's a brave man, Will.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Back with the crowd there, guards; delay no time!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SOME WOMEN IN THE CROWD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, ah, poor lad!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Eagerly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">What are they doing now?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot see!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">The Sheriff's angered now!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, for they say a messenger has come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From that same godless hangman whose lean neck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd like to twist, saying he is delayed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis the first godly deed he has ever done.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THIRD RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Sheriff says he will not be delayed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But who will take the hangman's office?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i40">Masters,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have a thought; make way; let me bespeak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Sheriff!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">RUSTICS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">How now, father, what's to do?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Make way, I tell you. Here's the man they want!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What's this?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Good master Sheriff, I've a grudge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against Will Scarlet. Let me have the task<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sending him to heaven!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">CROWD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Ah-h-h, the old devil!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come on, then, and be brief!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">I'm not a hangman;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I can cleave your thinnest hazel wand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At sixty yards.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Shoot, then, and make an end.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make way there, clear the way!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>An opening is made in the crowd. <span class="smcap">Robin</span> stands in the gap, <span class="smcap">Will Scarlet</span> is not seen by the audience.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">CROWD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Ah-h-h, the old devil!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'll shoot him one on either side, just graze him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To show you how I love him; then the third<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slick in his heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He shoots. A murmur goes up from the crowd. The crowd hides <span class="smcap">Will Scarlet</span> during the shooting. But <span class="smcap">Robin</span> remains in full view, in the opening.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Angrily.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Take care! You've cut the cord<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That bound him on that side!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Then here's the second!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will be careful!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He takes a steady aim.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A RUSTIC TO HIS NEIGHBOURS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">I' faith, lads, he can shoot!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What do you think—that green patch on his eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smacks of the merry men! He's tricking them!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Robin</span> shoots. A louder murmur goes up from the crowd.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You have cut the rope again!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A CRY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">He has cut him free!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All right! All right! It's just to tease the dog!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here's for the third now!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He aims and shoots quickly. There is a loud cry of a wounded man; then a shout from the crowd.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE CROWD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah-h-h, he has missed; he has killed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of the guards!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">What has he done?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND RUSTIC<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">He has killed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of the Sheriff's men!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">There's treachery here!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll cleave the first man's heart that moves!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i44">Will Scarlet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pick up that dead man's halbert!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Treachery! Help!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down with the villain!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Throws off his beggar's crouch and hurls the <span class="smcap">Sheriff</span> and several of his men back amongst the crowd. His cloak drops off.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sherwood! A merry Sherwood!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">CROWD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! ha! The Lincoln Green! A Robin Hood!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>A bugle rings out and immediately some of the yokels throw off their disguise and the Lincoln green appears as by magic amongst the crowd. The guards are rushed and hustled by them. Robin and several of his men make a ring round <span class="smcap">Will Scarlet</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHERIFF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is the outlawed Earl of Huntingdon:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a great reward upon his head.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down with him!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The <span class="smcap">Sheriff's</span> men make a rush at the little band. A <span class="smcap">Knight</span> in jet black armour, with a red-cross shield, suddenly appears and forces his way through the mob, sword in hand.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">What, so many against so few!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back, you wild wolves. Now, foresters, follow me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For our St. George and merry England, charge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charge them, my lads!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The <span class="smcap">Foresters</span> make a rush with him and the <span class="smcap">Sheriff</span> and his men take to flight.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Now back to Sherwood, swiftly!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A horse, or I shall come too late; a horse!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He sees the <span class="smcap">Knight</span> in armour standing by his horse.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Your pardon, sir; our debt to you is great,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too great almost for thanks; but if you be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bound by the vows of chivalry, I pray you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lend me your charger; and my men will bring you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my poor home in Sherwood. There you'll find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A most abundant gratitude.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Your name?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Was Huntingdon; but now is Robin Hood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If I refuse?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Then, sir, I must perforce<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take it. I am an outlaw, but the law<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of manhood still constrains me—'tis a matter<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of life and death—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Take it and God be with you!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll follow you to Sherwood with your men.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Robin</span> seizes the horse, leaps to the saddle, and gallops away.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span> <i>Sherwood Forest. Outside the cave. <span class="smcap">Jenny, Marian</span> and <span class="smcap">Widow +Scarlet</span>.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This dreadful waiting! How I wish that Robin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had listened to the rest and stayed with me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How still the woods are! Jenny, do you think</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There will be fighting? Oh, I am selfish, mother;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You need not be afraid. Robin will bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will Scarlet safely back to Sherwood. Why,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perhaps they are all returning even now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cheer up! How long d'you think they've been away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jenny, six hours or more? The sun is high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the dew is gone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JENNY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Nay, scarce three hours.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now don't you keep a-fretting. They'll be back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quite soon enough. I've scarcely spoke with you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This last three days and more; and even now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It seems I cannot get you to myself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two's quite enough.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>To <span class="smcap">Widow Scarlet</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Come, widow, come with me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll give you my own corner in the hut<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make you cosy. If you take a nap<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will Scarlet will be here betimes you wake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Takes her to the hut and shuts her in.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, drat her, for a mumping mumble-crust!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, Jenny, that's too bad; the poor old dame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is lonely.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JENNY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">She's not lonely when she sleeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if I never get you to myself<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where was the good of trapesing after you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And living here in Sherwood like wild rabbits?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You ha'nt so much as let me comb your hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This last three days and more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Well, comb it, Jenny,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, if you like, and comb it all day long;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But don't get crabbed, and don't speak so crossly!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Jenny</span> begins loosening <span class="smcap">Marian's</span> hair and combing it.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JENNY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, Mistress, it grows longer every day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's far below your knees, and how it shines!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wavy, just like Much the Miller's brook,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where it comes tumbling out into the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like gold, red gold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Ah, that's provoking, Jenny,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For you forgot to bring me my steel glass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, if you chatter so, I shall soon want it.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JENNY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I've found a very good one at a pinch.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's a smooth silver pool, down in the stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where you can see your face most beautiful.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So that's how Jenny spends her lonely hours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sad female Narcissus, while poor Much<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dwines to an Echo!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JENNY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">I don't like those gods.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I never cared for them. But, as for Much,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much is the best of all the merry men.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, mistress, O, he speaks so beautifully,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It <i>might</i> be just an Echo from blue hills<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far, far away! You see he's quite a scholar:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much, more an' most (That's what he calls the three<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Greasy caparisons—much, more an' most)!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You see they thought that being so very small<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They could not make him grow to be a man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They'd make a scholar of him instead. The Friar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taught him his letters. He can write his name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mine, and yours, just like a missal book,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In lovely colours; and he always draws<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The first big letter of <span class="smcap">Jenny</span> like a tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With naked Cupids hiding in the branches.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mistress, I don't believe you hear one word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ever speak to you! Your eyes are always<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That far and far away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">I'm listening, Jenny!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JENNY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well, when he draws the first big M of yours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He makes it like a bridge from earth to heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With white-winged angels passing up and down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, underneath the bridge, in a black stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He puts the drowning face of the bad Prince<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holding his wicked hands out, while a devil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stands on the bank and with a pointed stake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keeps him from landing—<br /></span> +<span class="i22">Ah, what's that? What's that?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Jenny, how you startled me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JENNY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">I thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw that same face peering thro' the ferns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yonder—there—see, they are shaking still.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>She screams.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i44">Ah! Ah!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Prince John</span> and another man appear advancing across the glade.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So here's my dainty tigress in her den,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And—Warman—there's a pretty scrap for you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside her. Now, sweet mistress, will you deign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To come with me, to change these cheerless woods<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For something queenlier? If I be not mistaken,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have had time to tire of that dark cave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was I not right, now? Surely you can see</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those tresses were not meant to waste their gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon this desert. Nay, but Marian, hear me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I do not jest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>At a sign from <span class="smcap">Marian, Jenny</span> goes quickly inside the cave.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">That's well! Dismiss your maid!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warman, remove a little.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>His man retires.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">I see you think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little better of me! Out in the wood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There waits a palfrey for you, and the stirrup<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Longs, as I long, to clasp your dainty foot.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am very sure by this you must be tired<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of outlawry, a lovely maid like you.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He draws nearer.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wait—I must think, must think.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Give me your hand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why do you shrink from me? If you could know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fire that burns me night and day, you would not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Refuse to let me snatch one cooling kiss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From that white hand of yours.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">If you be prince,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You will respect my loneliness and go.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How can I leave you, when by day and night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see that face of yours.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll not pretend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I do not love you, do not long for you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Desire and hunger for your kiss, your touch!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll not pretend to be a saint, you see!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hunger and thirst for you. Marian, Marian.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You are mad!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Ay, mad for you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Body and soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am broken up with love for you. Your eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flash like the eyes of a tigress, and I love them<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The better for it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, do not shrink from me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Jenny</span> comes out of the cave and hands <span class="smcap">Marian</span> a bow. She leaps back and aims it at <span class="smcap">John</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Back, you wild beast, or by the heaven above us,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll kill you! Now, don't doubt me. I can shoot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truly as any forester. I swear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prince or no prince, king or no king, I'll kill you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you should stir one step from where you stand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, come, sweet Marian, put that weapon down.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was beside myself, was carried away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot help my love for—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">I'll not hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another sickening word: throw down your arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That dagger at your side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Oh, that's too foolish,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marian, I swear—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">You see that rusty stain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the silver birch down yonder? Watch.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>She shoots. Then swiftly aims at him again.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, throw your weapon down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He pulls out the dagger and throws it down, with a shrug of his shoulders. One of his men steals up behind <span class="smcap">Marian</span>.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JENNY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Ah, Mistress Marian,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's one behind you! Look!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The man springs forward and seizes <span class="smcap">Marian's</span> arms.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Coming forward and taking hold of her also.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">So, my sweet tigress,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You're trapped then, are you? Well, we'll waste no time!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll talk this over when we reach the castle.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keep off the maid, there, Warman; I can manage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This turbulent beauty. Ah, by God, you shall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come! Ah? God's blood, what's this?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Marian</span> has succeeded in drawing her dagger and slightly wounding him. She wrests herself free.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Keep back, I warn you!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Advancing slowly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Strike, now strike if you will. You will not like<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see the red blood spurting up your hand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That's not maid's work. Come, strike!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Robin Hood</span> appears at the edge of the glade behind him</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i38">You see, you cannot!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your heart is tenderer than you think.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Quietly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i38">Prince John!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Turns round and confronts <span class="smcap">Robin</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out with your blade, Warman; call up the rest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We can strike freely now, without a fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of marring the sweet beauty of the spoil.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We four can surely make an end of him.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have at him, lads, and swiftly, or the thieves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will all be down on us.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Robin</span> draws his sword and sets his back to an oak. The other two followers of <span class="smcap">Prince John</span> come out of the wood.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Come on, all four!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This oak will shift its roots before I budge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One inch from four such howling wolves. Come on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You must be tired of fighting women-folk.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come on! By God, sir, you must guard your head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better than that,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He disarms <span class="smcap">Warman</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Or you're just food for worms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Already; come, you dogs!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRINCE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Work round, you three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind him! Drive him out from that damned oak!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, that's a princely speech! Have at you, sir!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He strikes <span class="smcap">Prince John's</span> sword out of his hand and turns suddenly to confront the others. <span class="smcap">John</span> picks up a dagger and makes as if to stab <span class="smcap">Robin</span> in the back. At the same instant, bugles are heard in the distance. The red-cross knight flashes between the trees and seizing <span class="smcap">John's</span> arm in his gauntleted hand, disarms him, then turns to help <span class="smcap">Robin.</span></i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What, four on one! Down with your blades, you curs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, by Mahound!—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The three men take to flight. <span class="smcap">John</span> stands staring at the newcomer. The <span class="smcap">Foresters</span> appear, surrounding the glade.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Muttering.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">What? Thou? Thou? Or his ghost?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No—no—it cannot be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Let them yelp home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pitiful jackals. They have left behind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The prime offender. Ha, there, my merry lads,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All's well; but take this villain into the cave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And guard him there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The <span class="smcap">Foresters</span> lead <span class="smcap">Prince John</span> into the cave.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>To the <span class="smcap">Foresters.</span></i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Answer me one thing: who<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is yonder red-cross knight?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">No friend of thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoe'er he be!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>To <span class="smcap">Robin.</span></i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">I need not ask <i>his</i> name.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I grieve to know it!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Sir, I am much beholden<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To your good chivalry. What thanks is mine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To give, is all your own.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Then I ask this!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me that prisoner! I think his life is mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You saved my own, and more, you saved much more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than my poor life is worth. But, sir, think well!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This man is dangerous, not to me alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to the King of England; for he'll yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Usurp the throne! Think well!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">I ask no more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have more reasons than you know.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">So be it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ho! Bring the prisoner back!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The <span class="smcap">Foresters</span> bring <span class="smcap">Prince John</span> back. He stares at the <span class="smcap">Knight</span> as if in fear.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Sir, you shall judge him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This prisoner is your own.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Then—let him go!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FORESTERS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What! Set him free?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Obey!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>They release <span class="smcap">Prince John</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Out of my sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRINCE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">What man is this?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Quickly, get thee gone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Prince John</span> goes out, shaken and white.</i>]<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We'll think no more of him! It is our rule<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That whomsoe'er we meet in merry greenwood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should dine with us. Will you not be our guest?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That's a most happy thought! I have not heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A merrier word than dinner all this day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am well-nigh starved.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Will you not raise your visor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let us know to whose good knightly hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We are so beholden?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Sir, you will pardon me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, for a little, I remain unknown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, tell me, are you not that Robin Hood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who breaks the forest laws?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">That is my name.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We hold this earth as naturally our own<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the glad common air we breathe. We think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No man, no king, can so usurp the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As not to give us room to live free lives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, if you shrink from eating the King's deer—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shrink? Ha! ha! ha! I count it as my own!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The <span class="smcap">Foresters</span> appear, preparing the dinner on a table of green turfs, beneath a spreading oak. <span class="smcap">Marian</span> and <span class="smcap">Jenny</span> appear at the door of the hut. <span class="smcap">Jenny</span> goes across to help at the preparations for dinner.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, there's my Lady Marian! Will you not come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And speak with her?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He and the <span class="smcap">Knight</span> go and talk to <span class="smcap">Marian</span> in the background.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">[<i>At the table.</i>]<br /></span> +<span class="i20">The trenchers all are set;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Manchets of wheat, cream, curds and honey-cakes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Venison pasties, roasted pigeons! Much,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Run to the cave; we'll broach our rarest wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-day. Old Much is waiting for thee there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To help him. He is growling roundly, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At thy delay.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MUCH<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">[<i>Going towards the cave.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Ah me, my poor old father!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JENNY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I've dressed the salt and strawed the dining hall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With flowers.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Friar Tuck</span> with several more <span class="smcap">Foresters</span> and <span class="smcap">Will Scarlet</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Ah, good Will Scarlet, here at last!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We should ha' been here sooner; but these others<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Borrowed a farmer's market cart and galloped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ahead of us!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Thy mother is in the hut,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sheer broken down with hope and fearfulness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waiting and trembling for thee, Will. Go in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Put thy big arm around her.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Will Scarlet</span> goes into the hut with a cry.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Mother!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">You see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My sons, you couldn't expect the lad to run!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a certain looseness in the limbs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A quaking of the flesh that overcomes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bravest who has felt a hangman's rope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cuddling his neck.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">You judge him by the rope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That cuddles your slim waist! Oh, you sweet armful,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sit down and pant! I warrant you were glad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bear him company.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">I'll not deny it!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am a man of solids. Like the Church,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am founded on a rock.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He sits down.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Solids, i' faith!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir, it is true he is partly based on beef;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He grapples with it squarely; but fluids, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have played their part in that cathedral choir<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He calls his throat. One godless virtue, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They seem to have given him. Never a nightingale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gurgles jug! jug! in mellower tones than he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When jugs are flowing. Never a thrush can pipe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet, sweet, so rarely as, when a pipe of wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Summers his throttle, we'll make him sing to us<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of his heathen ditties—<i>The Malmsey Butt</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or <i>Down the Merry Red Lane!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Oh, ay, you laugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, though I cannot run, when I am rested<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll challenge you, Robin, to a game of buffets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One fair, square, stand-up, stand-still, knock-down blow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Apiece; you'll need no more. If you not kiss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The turf, at my first clout, I will forego<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Malmsey for ever!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Friar, I recant;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You're champion there. Fists of a common size<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will encounter; but not whirling hams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like thine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">I knew it!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JENNY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">[<i>Approaching.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Please you, sirs, all is ready!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, Jenny, Jenny, Jenny, that's good news!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Will Scarlet</span> comes out of the hut with his arm round his mother. They all sit down at the table of turfs. Enter Shadow-of-a-Leaf timidly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is there a place for me?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Ay, come along!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, Robin, don't forget the grace, my son.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Standing up.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is our custom, sir, since our repast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is borrowed from the King, to drain one cup<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To him, and his return from the Crusade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before we dine. That same wine-bibbing friar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calls it our 'grace'; and constitutes himself<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remembrancer—without a cause, for never<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have we forgotten, never while bugles ring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' Sherwood, shall forget—Outlaws, the King!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>All stand up except the <span class="smcap">Knight</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">CRIES<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The King and his return from the Crusade!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>They drink and resume their seats.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You did not drink the health, sir Knight. I hope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You hold with Lion-Heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Yes; I hold with him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You were too quick for me. I had not drawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These gauntlets off.<br /></span> +<span class="i20">But tell me, Lady Marian,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When is your bridal day with Robin Hood?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We shall be wedded when the King comes home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the Crusade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Ah, when the King comes home!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That's music—all the birds of April sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In those four words for me—the King comes home.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I am glad you love him, sir.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">But you're not eating!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your helmet's locked and barred! Will you not raise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your visor?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KNIGHT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Laughs.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Ha! ha! ha! You see I am trapped!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I did not wish to raise it! Hunger and thirst<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Break down all masks and all disguises, Robin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He rises and removes his helmet, revealing the face of <span class="smcap">Richard Cœur de Lion.</span></i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The King!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>They all leap to their feet.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OUTLAWS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">The King! The King!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">But oh, my liege,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I should have known, when we were hard beset<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around Will Scarlet by their swarming bands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when you rode out of the Eastern sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hurled our foemen down, I should have known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was the King come home from the Crusade!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when I was beset here in the wood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By treacherous hounds again, I should have known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose armour suddenly burned between the leaves!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I should have known, either it was St. George<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or else the King come home from the Crusade!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">RICHARD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Indeed there is one thing that might have told you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robin—a lover's instinct, since it seems<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So much for you and Marian depends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On my return.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Sire, you will pardon me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I am only a fool, and yet methinks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You know not half the meaning of those words—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King, the King comes home from the Crusade!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrust up your swords, heft uppermost, my lads,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shout—the King comes home from the Crusade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He leaps on a seat, and thrusts up the King's sword, heft uppermost, as if it were a cross.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pardon him, sire, poor Shadow-of-a-Leaf has lost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His wits!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">That's what Titania said you'd say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor sweet bells out of tune! But oh, don't leave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Don't leave the forest! There's darker things to come!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Don't leave the forest! I have wits enough at least<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wrap my legs around my neck for warmth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On winter nights.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">RICHARD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">Well, you've no need to pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The winter in these woods—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Oh, not <i>that</i> winter!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shadow-of-a-Leaf, be silent!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> goes aside and throws himself down sobbing among the ferns.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">RICHARD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">When even your cave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Methinks can scarce be cheery. Huntingdon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your earldom we restore to you this day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You and my Lady Marian shall return<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Court with us, where your true bridal troth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall be fulfilled with golden marriage bells.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, friends, the venison pasty! We must hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The Malmsey Butt</i> and <i>Down the Merry Red Lane</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere we set out, at dawn, for London Town.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Allan-a-dale shall touch a golden string<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To speed our feast, sire, for he soars above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gross needs of the Churchman!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">RICHARD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Allan-a-Dale?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">WILL SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our greenwood minstrel, sire! His harp is ours<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because we won his bride for him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">RICHARD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">His bride?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">REYNOLD GREENLEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Was to be wedded, sire, against her will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Last May, to a rich old baron.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">RICHARD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Pigeon-pie—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Malmsey—yes—a rich old baron—tell!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sire, on the wedding day, my merry men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crowded the aisles with uninvited guests;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as the old man drew forth the golden ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They threw aside their cloaks with one great shout<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of 'Sherwood'; and, for all its crimson panes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The church was one wild sea of Lincoln green!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Forest had broken in, sire, and the bride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a wild rose tossing on those green boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was borne away and wedded here by Tuck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To her true lover; and so—his harp is ours.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ALLAN-A-DALE<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No feasting song, sire, but the royal theme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of chivalry—a song I made last night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In yonder ruined chapel. It is called<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The Old Knight's Vigil</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">RICHARD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Our hearts will keep it young!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Allan-a-dale</span> sings, <span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> raises his head among the +ferns.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Song.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once, in this chapel, Lord<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Young and undaunted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over my virgin sword<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lightly I chaunted,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Dawn ends my watch. I go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shining to meet the foe!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Swift with thy dawn," I said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Set the lists ringing!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon shall thy foe be sped,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the world singing!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bless my bright plume for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ, King of Chivalry.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> rises to his knees amongst the ferns.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"War-worn I kneel to-night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lord, by Thine altar!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, in to-morrow's fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let me not falter!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bless my dark arms for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ, King of Chivalry.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Keep Thou my broken sword<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All the long night through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I keep watch and ward!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then—the red fight through,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bless the wrenched haft for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ, King of Chivalry.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Keep, in thy piercèd hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still the bruised helmet:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let not their hostile bands<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wholly o'erwhelm it!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bless my poor shield for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ, King of Chivalry.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Keep Thou the sullied mail,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lord, that I tender<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, at Thine altar-rail!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then—let Thy splendour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touch it once ... and I go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stainless to meet the foe."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> rises to his feet and takes a step towards the minstrel.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p> +<h2>ACT IV</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span> <i>Garden of the King's Palace. Enter <span class="smcap">John</span> and <span class="smcap">Elinor.</span></i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You will be king the sooner! Not a month<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In England, and my good son Lion-Heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must wander over-seas again. These two,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Huntingdon and his bride, must bless the star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of errant knighthood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">He stayed just long enough<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To let them pass one fearless honeymoon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the broad sunlight of his royal favour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, like a meteor off goes great King Richard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leaves them but the shadow of his name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shelter them from my revenge. They know it!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have seen her shiver like a startled fawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And draw him closer, damn him, as I passed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They would have flitted to the woods again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for my Lord Fitzwalter.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">That old fool<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has wits enough to know I shall be king,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for his land's sake cheats himself to play<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Pandarus of Troy. "'Tis wrong, dear daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To think such evil." Pah, he makes me sick!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Better to laugh. He is useful.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">If I were king!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Richard were to perish over-seas!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd—<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">You'd be king the sooner. Never fear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These wandering meteors flash into their graves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like lightning, and no thunder follows them<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To warn their foolish henchmen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Looking at her searchingly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Shall I risk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King's return?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">What do you mean?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">I mean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot wait and watch this Robin Hood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dangle the fruit of Tantalus before me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then eat it in my sight! I have borne enough!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gave me like a fairing to my brother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Sherwood Forest; and I now must watch him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A happy bridegroom with the happy bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose lips I meant for mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">And do you think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I love to see it?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Had it not been for you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He would have died ere this!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Then let him die!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, ay, but do you mean it, mother?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hate him, hate him!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Mother, he goes at noon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Sherwood Forest, with a bag of gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For some of his old followers. If, by chance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He fall—how saith the Scripture?—among thieves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And vanish—is not heard of any more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I think Suspicion scarce could lift her head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among these roses here to hiss at me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Lion-Heart returns.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Vanish?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">I would not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kill him too quickly. I would have him taken<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a dungeon that I know.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">You have laid your trap<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Already? Tell me. You need not be afraid!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw them kiss, in the garden, yesternight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I have wondered, ever since, if fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could make a brand quite hot enough to stamp<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My hate upon him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Well, then, I will tell you—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The plan is laid; and, if his bag of gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rejoice one serf to-day, then I'll resign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maid Marian to his loving arms for ever.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you must help me, mother, or she'll suspect.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do not let slip your mask of friendliness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I have feared. Look—there our lovers come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath that arch of roses. Look, look, mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are taking leave of one another now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A ghastly parting, for he will be gone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well nigh four hours, they think. To look at them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One might suppose they knew it was for ever.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, or my hate will show itself in my face:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I must not see them.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">Prince</span> and <span class="smcap">Elinor</span>. A pause. Enter <span class="smcap">Robin Hood</span> and <span class="smcap">Marian</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">So, good-bye, once more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweetheart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Four hours; how shall I pass the time?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Four hours, four ages, you will scarce be home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By dusk; how shall I pass it?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">You've to think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What robe to wear at the great masque to-night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then to don it. When you've done all that<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall be home again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">What, not before?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That's not unlikely, either.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Now you mock me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you'll be back before the masque begins.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I warrant you I will.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">It is a month<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-day since we were married. Did you know it?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fie, I believe you had forgotten, Robin.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I had, almost. If marriage make the moons<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fly, as this month has flown, we shall be old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grey in our graves before we know it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wish that we could chain old Father Time.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And break his glass into ten thousand pieces.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And drown his cruel scythe ten fathom deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the bright blue sea whence Love was born:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, but we have not parted all this month<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More than a garden's breadth, an arrow's flight:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time will be dead till you come back again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Four hours of absence make four centuries!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do you remember how the song goes, Robin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That bids true lovers not to grieve at parting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Often? for Nature gently severs them thus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Training them up with kind and tender art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the great day when they must part for ever.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Do you believe it, Marian?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">No; for love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Buried beneath the dust of life and death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would wait for centuries of centuries,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ages of ages, until God remembered,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, through that perishing cloud-wrack, face looked up<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once more to loving face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Your hope—and mine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is not a man's poor memory, indeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A daily resurrection? Your hope—and mine!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And all the world's at heart! I do believe it.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And I—if only that so many souls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like yours have died believing they should meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again, lovers and children, little children!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God will not break that trust. I have found my heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again in you; and, though I stumble still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your small hand leads me thro' the darkness, up<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And onward, to the heights I dared not see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dare not even now; but my head bows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above your face; I see them in your eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love, point me onward still!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He takes her in his arms.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Good-bye! Good-bye!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come back, come back, before the masque begins!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, or a little later—never fear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll not so easily lose me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">I shall count<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The minutes!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Why, you're trembling!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Yes, I am foolish.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is the first small parting we have had;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But—you'll be back ere dusk?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Laughing.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Ah, do you think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That chains of steel could hold me, sweet, from you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With those two heavenly eyes to call me home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those lips to welcome me? Good-bye!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">Good-bye!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He goes hurriedly out. She looks after him for a moment, then suddenly calls.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Robin! Ah, well, no matter now—too late!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>She stands looking after him.</i>]<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span> <i>Sherwood Forest: dusk. Outside the cave, as in the second +act. <span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> runs quickly across the glade, followed by <span class="smcap">Puck</span>.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shadow-of-a-Leaf! Shadow-of-a-Leaf! Shadow-of-a-Leaf!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Don't dance away like that; don't hop; don't skip<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like that, I tell you! I'll never do it again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I promise. Don't be silly now! Come here;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to tell you something. Ah, that's right.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, sit down here upon this bank of thyme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"While I thine amiable ears"—Oh, no,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgive me, ha! ha! ha!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Now, Master Puck,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll kindly keep your word! A foxglove spray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the right hand is deadlier than the sword<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That mortals use, and one resounding thwack<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Applied to your slim fairyhood's green limbs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will make it painful, painful, very painful,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Next time your worship wishes to sit down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cross-legged upon a mushroom.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Ha! ha! ha!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor Shadow-of-a-Leaf!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">You keep your word, that's all!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Haven't I kept my word? Wasn't it I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That made you what these poor, dull mortals call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crazy? Who crowned you with the cap and bells?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who made you such a hopeless, glorious fool<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That wise men are afraid of every word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You utter? Wasn't it I that made you free<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fairyland—that showed you how to pluck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fern-seed by moonlight, and to walk and talk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between the lights, with urchins and with elves?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is there another fool twixt earth and heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like you—ungrateful rogue—answer me that!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All true, dear gossip, and for saving me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the poor game of blind man's buff men call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wisdom, I thank you; but to hang and buzz<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a mad dragon-fly, now on my nose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now on my neck, now singing in my ears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is that to make me free of fairyland?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No—that's enough to make the poor fool mad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And take to human wisdom.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Yet you love me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ha! ha!—you love me more than all the rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You can't deny it! You can't deny it! Ha! ha!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I won't deny it, gossip. E'en as I think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There must be something loves us creatures, Puck,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More than the Churchmen say. We are so teased<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thorns, bullied with briars, baffled with stars.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've lain sometimes and laughed until I cried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see the round moon rising o'er these trees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that same foolish face of heavenly mirth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winking at lovers in the blue-bell glade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lovers! Ha! ha! I caught a pair of 'em<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Last night, behind the ruined chapel! Lovers!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Lord, these mortals, they'll be the death of me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hist, who comes here?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Scarlet and Little John,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the merry men—not half so merry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since Robin went away. He was to come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And judge between the rich and poor to-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I think he has forgotten.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Hist, let me hide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind this hawthorn bush till they are gone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter the <span class="smcap">Foresters</span>—they all go into the cave except <span class="smcap">Scarlet</span> and <span class="smcap">Little John</span>, who stand at the entrance, looking anxiously back.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I have never known the time when Robin Hood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said "I will surely come," and hath not been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Punctual as yonder evening star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Pray God<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No harm hath fallen him. Indeed he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Count on my coming."</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">I'll sound yet one more call.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They say these Courts will spoil a forester.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It may be he has missed the way. I'd give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My sword-hand just to hear his jolly bugle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Answer me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He blows a forest call. They listen. All is silent.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Silence—only the sough of leaves!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well, I'm for sleep: the moon is not so bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since Robin left us.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Ha! Shadow-of-a-Leaf, alone?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thought I heard thy voice.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Oh, he will talk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With ferns and flowers and whisper to the mice!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perfectly happy, art thou not, dear fool?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Perfectly happy since I lost my wits!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pray that thou never dost regain them, then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shadow-of-a-Leaf.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">I thank you kindly, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pray that you may quickly lose your own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so be happy, too. Robin's away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, if you'd lost your wits, you would not grieve.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Good-night, good fool.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">I will not say "Good-night,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wise man, for I am crazed, and so I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis good, and yet you'll grieve. I wish you both<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bad night that will tease your wits away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make you happy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The <span class="smcap">Outlaws</span> enter the cave. <span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> beckons to <span class="smcap">Puck</span>, who steals out again.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Shadow-of-a-Leaf, some change<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is creeping o'er the forest. I myself<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce laugh so much since Robin went away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, my head hangs as heavily as a violet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brimmed with the rain. Shadow-of-a-Leaf, a cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A whisper steals across this listening wood!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am growing afraid. Dear fool, I am thy Puck,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I am growing afraid there comes an end<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To all our Sherwood revels, and I shall never<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tease thee again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">Here comes the King!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Oberon</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">Hail, Oberon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King of the fairies, I strew ferns before you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There are no palms here: ferns do just as well!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shadow-of-a-Leaf, our battles all are wasted;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our fairy dreams whereby we strove to warn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robin and Marian, wasted. Shadow-of-a-Leaf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear Robin Hood, the lover of the poor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kind Maid Marian, our forest queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are in the toils at last!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He pauses.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Speak, speak!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Prince John<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath trapped and taken Robin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Is not Richard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King of this England? Did not Richard tempt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robin, for Marian's sake, to leave the forest?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did he not swear upon the Holy Cross<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Robin should be Earl of Huntingdon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hold his lands in safety?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Only fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Richard held the wicked Prince in leash.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Richard roamed abroad again. Prince John<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would murder Robin secretly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Wise men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fight too much for these holy sepulchres!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are not the living images of God<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better than empty graves?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">One grave is filled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now; for our fairy couriers have brought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tidings that Richard Lion-Heart is dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i40">Dead?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dead! In a few brief hours the news will reach<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wicked Prince. He will be King of England,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Marian in his power!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">No way to save them!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We cannot break our fairy vows of silence.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mortal, Shadow-of-a-Leaf, can break those vows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But only on pain of death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Oberon, I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shadow-of-a-Leaf, the fool, must break my vows!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I must save Robin Hood that he may save<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marian from worse than death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Shadow-of-a-Leaf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think what death means to you, never to join<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our happy sports again, never to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moonlight streaming through these ancient oaks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again, never to pass the fairy gates<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again. We cannot help it. They will close<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like iron in your face, and you will hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our happy songs within; but you will lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone, without, dying, and never a word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To comfort you, no hand to touch your brow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So be it. I shall see them entering in!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The time is brief. Quick, tell me, where is Robin?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quick, or the news that makes Prince John a king<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will ruin all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Robin is even now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrust in the great dark tower beyond the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The topmost cell where foot can never climb.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cannot an arrow reach it? Ay, be swift;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, lead me thither.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">I cannot disobey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The word that kills the seed to raise the wheat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The word that—Shadow-of-a-Leaf, I think I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, why great kings ride out to the Crusade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quickly, come, quickly!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">Oberon</span> and <span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span>. <span class="smcap">Puck</span> remains staring after them, then vanishes with a sob, between the trees. <span class="smcap">Little John</span> and <span class="smcap">Scarlet</span> appear once more at the mouth of the cave.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">I thought I heard a voice.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas only Shadow-of-a-Leaf again. He talks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For hours among the ferns, plays with the flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whispers to the mice, perfectly happy!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i0">SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I cannot rest for thinking that some harm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath chanced to Robin. Call him yet once more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Little John</span> blows his bugle. All is silent. They stand listening.</i>]<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span> <i>A gloomy cell. <span class="smcap">Robin</span> bound. <span class="smcap">Prince John</span> and two mercenaries. +A low narrow door in the background, small barred window on the left.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRINCE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>To the Mercenaries.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Leave us a moment. I have private matters<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lay before this friend of all the poor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You may begin to build the door up now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So that you do not wall me in with him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The two men begin filling up the doorway with rude blocks of masonry.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So now, my good green foot-pad, you are trapped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last, trapped in the practice of your trade!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trapped, as you took your stolen Norman gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To what was it—a widow, or Saxon serf<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With eye put out for breaking forest laws?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You hold with them, it seems. Your dainty soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sickens at our gross penalties; and so<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll not inflict them on your noble self,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Although we have the power. There's not a soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can ever tell where Robin Hood is gone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These walls will never echo it.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He taps the wall with his sword.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">And yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There surely must be finer ways to torture<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So fine a soul as yours. Was it not you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who gave me like a fairing to my brother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With lofty condescension in your eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shall I call my mercenaries in<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bid them burn your eyes out with hot irons?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Richard is gone—he'll never hear of it!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An Earl that plays the robber disappears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That's all. Most like he died in some low scuffle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out in the greenwood. I am half inclined<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To call for red-hot irons after all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So that your sympathy with Saxon churls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May be more deep, you understand; and then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It would be sweet for you, alone and blind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To know that you could never in this life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See Marian's face again. But no—that's bad.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bad art to put hope's eyes out. It destroys<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half a man's fear to rob him of his hope.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No; you shall drink the dregs of it. Hope shall die<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More exquisite a death. Robin, my friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You understand that, when I quit your presence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This bare blank cell becomes your living tomb.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do you not comprehend? It's none so hard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The doorway will be built up. There will be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No door, you understand, but just a wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some six feet thick, of solid masonry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nobody will disturb you, even to bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Water or food. You'll starve—see—like a rat,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bricked up and buried. But you'll have time to think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of how I tread a measure at the masque<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-night, with Marian, while her wide eyes wonder<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Robin is—and old Fitzwalter smiles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bids his girl be gracious to the Prince<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For his land's sake. Ah, ha! you wince at that!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will you not speak a word before I go?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak, damn you!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He strikes <span class="smcap">Robin</span> across the face with his glove. <span class="smcap">Robin</span> remains silent.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Six days hence, if you keep watch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At yonder window (you'll be hungry then)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You may catch sight of Marian and Prince John<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wandering into the gardens down below.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You will be hungry then; perhaps you'll strive<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To call to us, or stretch a meagre arm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through those strong bars; but then you know the height<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is very great—no voice can reach to the earth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is the topmost cell in my Dark Tower.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men look like ants below there. I shall say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Marian, See that creature waving there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High up above us, level with the clouds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it not like a winter-shrivelled fly?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she will laugh; and I will pluck her roses.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then—and then—there are a hundred ways,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You know, to touch a woman's blood with thoughts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond its lawful limits. Ha! ha! ha!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By God, you almost spoke to me, I think.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touches at twilight, whispers in the dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet sympathetic murmurs o'er the loss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her so thoughtless Robin, do you think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maid Marian will be quite so hard to win<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When princes come to woo? There will be none<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To interrupt us then. Time will be mine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To practise all the amorous arts of Ovid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, at the last—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Will you not free my hands?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have your sword. But I would like to fight you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, with my naked hands. I want no more.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRINCE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ha! ha! At last the sullen speaks.<br /></span> +<span class="i32">That's all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wanted. I have struck you in the face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is't not enough? You can't repay that blow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bury, me down in hell and I'll repay it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The day you die, across your lying mouth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That spoke of my true lady, I will repay it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the face of God!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRINCE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Laughing.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Meanwhile, for me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till you repay that blow, there is the mouth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Marian, the sweet honey-making mouth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That shall forestall your phantom blow with balm.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, you'll go mad too soon if I delay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am glad you spoke. Farewell, the masons wait.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I must not be late for Marian.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exit thro' the small aperture now left in the doorway. It is rapidly closed and sounds of heavy masonry being piled against it are heard. <span class="smcap">Robin</span> tries to free his hands and after an effort, succeeds. He hurls himself against the doorway, and finds it hopeless. He turns to the window, peers through it for a moment, then suddenly unwinds a scarf from his neck, ties it to one of the bars and stands to one side.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too high a shot for most of my good bowmen!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's that? A miss?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He looks thro' the window.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Good lad, he'll try again!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He stands at the side once more and an arrow comes thro' the window.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, that's like magic!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He pulls up the thread attached to it.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Softly, or 'twill break!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, now 'tis sturdy cord.<br /></span> +<span class="i26">—I'll make it fast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, how to break these bars!<br /></span> +<span class="i28">St. Nicholas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's someone climbing. He must have a head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of iron, and the lightness of a cat!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Downward is bad enough, but up is more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than mortal! Who the devil can it be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thank God, it's growing dark. But what a risk!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None of my merry men could e'en attempt it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm very sure it can't be Little John.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, Shadow-of-a-Leaf!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> appears at the window.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">'Fore God, dear faithful fool,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am glad to see you.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Softly, gossip, softly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pull up the rope a little until we break<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This bar away—or some kind friend may see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dangling end below. Now here's a toothpick,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Six inches of grey steel, for you to work with,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And here's another for me. Pick out the mortar!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>They work to loosen the bars.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wait! Here's a rose I brought you in my cap<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And here's a spray of fern! Old Nature's keys<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Open all prisons, I'll throw them in for luck,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He throws them into the cell and begins working feverishly again.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So that the princes of the world may know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The forest let you out. Down there on earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If any sees me, they will only think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The creepers are in leaf. Pick out the mortar!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That's how the greenwood works. You know, 'twill thrust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its tendrils through these big grey stones one day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pull them down. I noticed in the courtyard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grass is creeping though the crevices<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Already, and yellow dandelions crouch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all the crumbling corners. Pick it out!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is a very righteous work indeed</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For men in Lincoln green; for what are we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But tendrils of old Nature, herald sprays!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We scarce anticipate. Pick the mortar out.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quick, there's no time to lose, although to-night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We're in advance of sun and moon and stars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the tackling sands in Time's turned glass.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>With a sudden cry.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Richard is dead!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Richard is dead! The King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is dead!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Ah, dead! Come, pick the mortar out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the walls of towers and shrines and tombs!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For now Prince John is King, and Lady Marian<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In peril, gossip! Yet we are in advance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sun and moon to-night, for sweet Prince John<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is not aware yet of his kinglihood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or of his brother's death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Pausing a moment.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Why, Shadow-of-a-Leaf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What does this mean?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Come, pick the mortar out;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have no time to lose. This very night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Lady Marian must away to Sherwood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At any moment the dread word may come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That makes John King of England. Quick, be quick!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She is at the masque to-night!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Then you must mask<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fetch her thence! Ah, ha, the bar works loose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pull it!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>They pull at the bar, get it free, and throw it into the cell.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Now, master, follow me down the rope.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Robin</span> thro' the window.</i>]<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene IV.</span> <i>Night. The garden of the King's palace (as before), but +lighted with torches for the masque. Music swells up and dies away +continually. Maskers pass to and fro between the palace and the garden. +On the broad terrace in front some of them are dancing a galliard.</i></p> + +<p>[<i><span class="smcap">Prince John</span> enters and is met by</i> <span class="smcap">Queen Elinor</span>, <i>neither of them +masked.</i>]</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All safe?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRINCE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Ay, buried and bricked up now, to think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone, in the black night, of all I told him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thank God, we have heard the last of Robin Hood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>She puts on her mask.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You are sure?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRINCE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">I saw him entombed with my own eyes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Six feet of solid masonry. Look there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's the young knight you've lately made your own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is my Lady Marian? Ah, I see her!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that old hypocrite, Fitzwalter.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>They part. <span class="smcap">Prince John</span> puts on his mask as he goes.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A LADY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">But tell me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is Prince John?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A MASKER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">That burly-shouldered man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By yonder pillar, talking with old Fitzwalter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the masked girl, in green, with red-gold hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is Lady Marian!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE LADY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Where is Robin Hood?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have never seen him, but from all one hears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is a wood-god and a young Apollo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a more chaste Actæon all in one.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MASKER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, ay, he never watched Diana bathing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, if he did, all Sherwood winked at it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who knows? Do you believe a man and maid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can sleep out in the woods all night, as these<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have slept a hundred times, and put to shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our first poor parents; throw the apple aside<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And float out of their leafy Paradise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like angels?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LADY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">No; I fear the forest boughs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could tell sad tales. Oh, I imagine it—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Married to Robin, by a fat hedge-priest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under an altar of hawthorn, with a choir<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sparrows, and a spray of cuckoo-spit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For holy water! Oh, the modest chime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of blue-bells from a fairy belfry, a veil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of evening mist, a robe of golden hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A blade of grass for a ring; a band of thieves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Lincoln green to witness the sweet bans;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A glow-worm for a nuptial taper, a bed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of rose-leaves, and wild thyme and wood-doves' down.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quick! Draw the bridal curtains—three tall ferns—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the cave mouth, lest a star should peep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make the wild rose leap into her face!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pish! A sweet maid! But where is Robin Hood?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MASKER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I know not; but he'd better have a care<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Mistress Marian. If I know Prince John<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He has marked her for his own.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LADY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">I cannot see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What fascinates him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MASKER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">No, you are right, nor I.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRINCE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, Lady Marian, let me lead you out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To tread a measure.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Pray, sir, pardon me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am tired.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FITZWALTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Whispering angrily to her.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Now, Marian, be not so ungracious.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You both abuse him and disparage us.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His courtiers led the ladies they did choose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do not displease him, girl. I pray you, go!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dance out your galliard. God's dear holy-bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Y'are too forgetful. Dance, or by my troth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll move my patience. I say you do us wrong.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I will do what you will. Lead, lead your dance.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">John</span> and <span class="smcap">Marian</span>.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST MASKER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>To a lady, as they come up from the garden.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Will you not let me see your face now, sweet?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LADY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You hurt my lip with that last kiss of yours.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush, do not lean your face so close, I pray you;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loosen my fingers. There's my lord.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST MASKER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">Where? Where?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, if I know him, I shall know your name!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LADY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That tall man with the damozel in red.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST MASKER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, never fear him. He, too, wore a mask!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw them—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>They pass out talking.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND MASKER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Looking after them.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Saw you those two turtle-doves!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND LADY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND MASKER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come with me, I'll show you where I caught them<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the roses, half an hour ago.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>They laugh and exeunt into the gardens. The music swells up and more dancers appear.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Robin Hood</span>, still in his forester's garb, but wearing a mask. He walks as if wounded and in pain. He sits down in the shadow of a pillar watching, and partly concealed from the throng.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THIRD LADY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Remember now to say you did not see me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here at the masque.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THIRD MASKER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Or shall I say that I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was out in Palestine?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>They pass. Enter little <span class="smcap">Arthur Plantagenet</span>. He comes up to <span class="smcap">Robin Hood</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ARTHUR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Are you not Robin Hood?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hush, Arthur. Don't you see I wear a mask<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like all the rest to-night?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ARTHUR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Why do they wear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Masks?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">They must always wear some sort of mask<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At court. Sometimes they wear them all their lives.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ARTHUR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You are jesting, Robin. Now I wanted you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To tell me tales of Sherwood. Tell me how<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You saved Will Scarlet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Why, I've told you that<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A score of times.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ARTHUR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">I know, I want to hear it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again. Well, tell me of that afternoon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Lion-Heart came home from the Crusade.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have often thought of that. It must have been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Splendid! You weren't expecting it at all?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No, not at all; but, Arthur, tell me first<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have you seen Lady Marian?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ARTHUR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Yes, I saw her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Treading a measure with my Uncle John!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stand where you are and watch; and, if you see her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beckon her. Then I'll tell you how the King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came home from the Crusade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ARTHUR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">First, let me tell you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just how I think it was. It must have been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a great picture. All your outlaws there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sitting around your throne of turf, and you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Judging the rich and poor. That's how it was<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Last night, I dreamed of it; and you were taking<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The baron's gold and giving it to the halt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blind; and then there was a great big light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between the trees, as if a star had come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down to the earth and caught among the boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With beams like big soft swords amongst the ferns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leaves, and through the light a mighty steed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stepped, and the King came home from the Crusade.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was it like that? Was there a shining light?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I think there must have been, a blinding light,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ARTHUR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Filling an arch of leaves?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Yes!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ARTHUR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">That was it!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That's how the King came home from the Crusade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But there—you've told the story!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ARTHUR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Ah, not all!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No, not quite all. What's that?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The music suddenly stops. The maskers crowd together whispering excitedly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ARTHUR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Why have they stopped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The music? Ah, there's Hubert. Shall I ask him?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes, quickly, and come back!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Arthur</span> runs up to a masker. Several go by hurriedly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST MASKER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">The King is dead!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND MASKER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where did it happen? France?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST MASKER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">I know not, sir!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Arthur</span> returns.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ARTHUR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Robin, they say the King is dead! So John<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is king now, is he not?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Ay, John is king!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, tell me quickly, use your eyes, my boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where's Lady Marian?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ARTHUR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Ah, there she is at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Go to her quickly, and bring her hither.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Arthur</span> runs off and returns with</i> <span class="smcap">Marian</span>.]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Robin, thank God, you have returned. I feared—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No more, dear heart, you must away to Sherwood!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shadow-of-a-Leaf is waiting by the orchard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With your white palfrey. Away, or the new king<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will hunt us down. I'll try to gain you time.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go—quickly!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Robin, your face is white, you are wounded!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's this—there's blood upon your doublet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robin!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Nothing! Go, quickly!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Robin, I cannot leave you.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Go, Marian. If you ever loved me, go.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You'll follow?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Oh, with my last breath I will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God helping me; but I must gain you time!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quickly! Here comes the King!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Oh, follow soon!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exit.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Robin</span> sits down again, steadying himself against the pillar. <span class="smcap">John</span> appears at the doors of the palace, above the terrace, a scroll in his hand.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My friends, the King is dead!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MASKERS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i0">[<i>Taking off their masks, with a cry.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Long live King John!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i0">[<i>Coming down amongst them.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our masque is ended by this grievous news;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But where's my Lady Marian? I had some word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To speak with her! Not here! Why—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i0">[<i>Still masked, rises and confronts the King, who stares at him and shrinks back a little.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">All the masks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are off, sire! No, perhaps they wear them still.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who is this?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One that was dead and lives. You say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your brother, the great King, is dead. Oh, sire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If that be so, you'll hear a dead man speak,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For your dead brother's sake. You say the King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is dead; but you are king. So the King lives!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You are King of England now from sea to sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it not so? Shout, maskers, once again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long live the King!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MASKERS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Long live the King!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i40">You see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What power is yours! Your smile is life, your frown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death. At a word from you the solid earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would shake with tramp of armies. You can call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thousands to throw away their lives like straws<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon your side, if any foreign king<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dare to affront you.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He draws nearer to <span class="smcap">John</span>, who still shrinks a little, as if in fear.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Richard, you say, is dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet, O King, I say that the great King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lives!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He strikes <span class="smcap">John</span> across the face. <span class="smcap">John</span> cowers and staggers back. +The <span class="smcap">Maskers</span> draw their swords, the women +scream and rush together. <span class="smcap">Robin</span> turns, sword in hand, +to confront the <span class="smcap">Maskers</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Back, fools; for I say that the great King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lives. Do not doubt it. Ye have dreamed him dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How often. Hark, God in heaven, ye know that voice.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>A voice is heard drawing nearer thro' the distant darkness of the garden, singing. All listen. <span class="smcap">John's</span> face whitens.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Song.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Knight, on the narrow way,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where wouldst thou ride?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Onward," I heard him say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Love, to thy side."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis Blondel! Still vaunt-courier to the King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when he burst the bonds of Austria! Listen!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Song nearer.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nay," sang a bird above,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Stay, for I see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death, in the mask of love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Waiting for thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MASKERS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Resuming their masks and muttering to one another.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Can the King live? Is this John's treachery? Look,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is crushed with fear!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +<span class="i22">Listen! I'll go to meet him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exit into the garden.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MASKERS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was the song of Blondel! The same song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He made with Richard, long since!—<br /></span> +<span class="i36">Blondel's voice!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just as we heard it on that summer's night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Lion-Heart came home from the Crusade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The Song still drawing nearer.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Death! What is Death?" he cried.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I must ride on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On to my true love's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Up to her throne!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Blondel</span>, from the garden. He stands, startled by the scene before him.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MASKERS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Blondel! Where is the King? Where is the King?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">BLONDEL<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Did ye not know?—Richard, the King, is dead!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MASKERS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dead!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Dead! And ye let the living dog escape<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That dared snarl at our sovereignty. I know him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Risen from the dead or not. I know 'twas he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas Robin Hood! After him; hunt him down!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let him not live to greet another sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After him!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MASKERS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Drawing their swords and plunging into the darkness.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">After him; hunt the villain down!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ACT V</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span> <i>Morning. Sherwood Forest (as before). <span class="smcap">Little John</span> and some of +the <span class="smcap">Outlaws</span> are gathered together talking. Occasionally they look +anxiously toward the cave and at the approaches through the wood. Enter +two <span class="smcap">Foresters</span>, running and breathless.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The King's men! They are scouring thro' the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two troops of them, five hundred men in each<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And more are following.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">We must away from here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quickly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Where did you sight them?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">From the old elm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our watch-tower. They were not five miles away!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Five, about five. We saw the sunlight flash<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along, at least five hundred men at arms;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, to the north, along another line,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bigger, I think; but not so near.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Where's Robin?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We must away at once!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">No time to lose!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His wound is bitter—I know not if we dare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Move him!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">His wound?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Ay, some damned arrow pierced him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he escaped last night from the Dark Tower.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He never spoke of it when first he reached us;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, suddenly, he swooned. He is asleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now. He must not be wakened. They will take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some time yet ere they thread our forest-maze.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FIRST FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not long, by God, not long. They are moving fast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Marian</span> appears at the mouth of the cave. All turn to look at her, expectantly. She seems in distress.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He is tossing to and fro. I think his wound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has taken fever! What can we do?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">I've sent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A messenger to Kirklee Priory,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where my old friend the Prioress hath store<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of balms and simples, and hath often helped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wounded forester. Could we take him there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her skill would quickly heal him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">The time is pressing!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lad will not be long!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Robin</span> appears tottering and white at the mouth of the cave.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Running to him.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">O Robin, Robin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You must not rise! Your wound!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He speaks feverishly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">Where can I rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better than on my greenwood throne of turf?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Friar, I heard them say they had some prisoners.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bring them before me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Master, you are fevered,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they can wait.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Yes, yes; but there are some<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That cannot wait, that die for want of food,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then—the Norman gold will come too late,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too late.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +<span class="i12">O master, you must rest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Going up to him.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +<span class="i36">Oh, help me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Help me with him. Help me to lead him back.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No! No! You must not touch me! I will rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I have seen the prisoners, not before.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He means it, mistress, better humour him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or he will break his wound afresh.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">O Robin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me your word that you'll go back and rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When you have seen them.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Yes, I will try, I will try!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But oh, the sunlight! Where better, sweet, than this?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>She leads him to the throne of turf and he sits down upon it, with <span class="smcap">Marian</span> at his side.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Friar is right. This life is wine, red wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the greenwood boughs! Oh, still to keep it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One little glen of justice in the midst<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of multitudinous wrong. Who knows? We yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May leaven the whole world.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter the Outlaws, with several prisoners, among them, a <span class="smcap">Knight</span>, an <span class="smcap">Abbot</span>, and a <span class="smcap">Forester</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Those are the prisoners?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You had some victims of the forest laws<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That came to you for help. Bring them in, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And set them over against these lords of the earth!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Some ragged women and children appear. Several serfs with iron collars round their necks and their eyes put out, are led gently in.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is that our Lincoln green among the prisoners?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There? One of my own band?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Ay, more's the pity!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We took him out of pity, and he has wronged<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our honour, sir; he has wronged a helpless woman<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Entrusted to his guidance thro' the forest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ever the same, the danger comes from those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We fight for, those below, not those above!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which of you will betray me to the King?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Do you ask <i>me</i>, sir?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Judas answered first,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With "Master, is it I?" Hang not thy head!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What say'st thou to this charge?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Why, Friar Tuck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can answer for me. Do you think he cares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Less for a woman's lips than I?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Cares less,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou rotten radish? Nay, but a vast deal more!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God's three best gifts to man,—woman and song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wine, what dost <i>thou</i> know of all their joy?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou lean pick-purse of kisses?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Take him out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Friar, and let him pack his goods and go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whither he will. I trust the knave to thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thy good quarter-staff, for some five minutes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before he says "Farewell."</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">Bring him along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give him a quarter-staff, I'll thrash him roundly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He goes out. Two of the <span class="smcap">Foresters</span> follow with the prisoner. Others bring the <span class="smcap">Abbot</span> before <span class="smcap">Robin</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! Ha! I know him, the godly usurer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of York!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">We saw a woman beg for alms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of the sufferers by the rule which gave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This portly Norman his fat priory<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his abundant lands. We heard him say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he was helpless, had not one poor coin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To give her, not a scrap of bread! He wears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purple beneath his cloak: his fine sleek palfrey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flaunted an Emperor's trappings!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ABBOT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Man, the Church<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must keep her dignity!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Pointing to the poor woman, etc.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Ay, look at it!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is your dignity! And you must wear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silk next your skin to show it. But there was one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You call your Master, and He had not where<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lay His head, save one of these same trees!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ABBOT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Do you blaspheme! I pray you, let me go!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There are grave matters waiting. I am poor!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Look in his purse and see.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ABBOT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Hurriedly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">I have five marks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all the world, no more. I'll give them to you!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Look in his purse and see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>They pour a heap of gold out of his purse.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Five marks, Indeed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here's, at the least, a hundred marks in gold!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ABBOT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That is my fees, my fees; you must not take them!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The ancient miracle!—five loaves, two small fishes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then—of what remained—they gathered up<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twelve basketsful!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ABBOT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Oh, you blaspheming villains!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Abbot, I chance to know how this was wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This miracle; wrought with the blood, anguish and sweat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of toiling peasants, while the cobwebs clustered<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around your lordly cellars of red wine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give him his five and let him go.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ABBOT<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Going out.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">The King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall hear of this! The King will hunt you down!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now—the next!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Beseech you, sir, to rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your wound will—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">No! The next, show me the next!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This Norman baron—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">What, another friend!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another master of broad territories.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How many homes were burned to make you lord<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of half a shire? What hath he in his purse?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gold and to spare!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">BARON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">To keep up mine estate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I need much more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Pointing to the poor.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">Ay, you need these! these! these!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">BARON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Protesting.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I am not rich.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Look in his purse and see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">BARON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You dogs, the King shall hear of it!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Murmuring as if to himself.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Five loaves!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet, of what remained, they gathered up<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twelve basketsful. The bread of human kindness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Goes far! Oh, I begin to see new meanings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that old miracle! How much? How much?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Five hundred marks in gold!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Half rising and speaking with a sudden passion.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">His churls are starving,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Starving! Their little children cry for bread!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of those jewels on his baldric there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would feed them all in plenty all their lives!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Five loaves—and yet—and yet—of what remained,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fragments, mark you, twelve great basketsful!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">BARON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I am in a madman's power! The man is mad!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Take all he has, all you can get. To-night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all is dark (we must have darkness, mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For deeds like this) blind creatures will creep out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With groping hands and gaping mouths, lean arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shrivelled bodies, branded, fettered, lame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Distorted, horrible; and they will weep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great tears like gouts of blood upon our feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we shall succour them and make them think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(That's if you have not mangled their poor souls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As well, or burned their children with their homes),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll try to make them think that some few roods<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of earth are not so bitter as hell might be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are you not glad to think of this? Nay—go—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or else your face will haunt me when I die!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take him quickly away. The next! The next!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O God!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Flings up his arms and falls fainting.</i>]</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Bending over him.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">O Robin! Robin! Help him quickly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wound! The wound!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>They gather round <span class="smcap">Robin</span>. The <span class="smcap">Outlaws</span> come back with the captive <span class="smcap">Forester</span>, his pack upon his back.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRIAR TUCK<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>To the <span class="smcap">Forester</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Now, get you gone and quickly!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, what hath happened?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Friar Tuck</span> and the <span class="smcap">Outlaws</span> join the throng round <span class="smcap">Robin</span>. +The <span class="smcap">Forester</span> shakes his fist at them and goes across the glade muttering. The +<span class="smcap">Messenger</span> from Kirklee Priory +comes out of the forest at the same moment and speaks to +him, not knowing of his dismissal.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MESSENGER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">All's well! Robin can come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Kirklee. Our old friend the Prioress<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is there, and faithful! They've all balms and simples<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To heal a wound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Staring at him.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">To Kirklee?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MESSENGER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Yes, at sunset,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll take him to the borders of the wood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All will be safe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where he can steal in easily, alone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">The King's men are at hand!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MESSENGER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, but if we can leave him there, all's safe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll dodge the King's men.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">When is he to go?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MESSENGER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Almost at once; but he must not steal in<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till sundown, when the nuns are all in chapel.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How now? What's this? What's this?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He goes across to the throng round <span class="smcap">Robin</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FORESTER<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Looking after him.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alone, to Kirklee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exit.</i>]<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span> <i>A room in Kirklee Priory. A window on the right overlooks a +cloister leading up to the chapel door. The forest is seen in the +distance, the sun beginning to set behind it. The <span class="smcap">Prioress</span> and a <span class="smcap">Novice</span> +are sitting in a window-seat engaged in broidery work.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">NOVICE<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He must be a good man—this Robin Hood!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I long to see him. Father used to say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">England had known none like him since the days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Hereward the Wake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRIORESS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">He will be here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By vespers. You shall let him in. Who's that?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can that be he? It is not sundown yet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See who is there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Novice</span>. She returns excitedly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">NOVICE<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">A lady asks to see you!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She is robed like any nun and yet she spoke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a great lady—one that is used to rule</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">More than obey; and on her breast I saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A ruby smouldering like a secret fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath her cloak. She bade me say she came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Robin Hood's behest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRIORESS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">What? Bring her in<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quickly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Novice</span> and returns with <span class="smcap">Queen Elinor</span> in a nun's garb. At +the sign from the <span class="smcap">Prioress</span> the <span class="smcap">Novice</span> retires.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Madam, I come to beg a favour.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am a friend of Robin Hood. I have heard—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of his Foresters, this very noon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brought me the news—that he is sorely wounded;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And purposes to seek your kindly help<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Kirklee Priory.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRIORESS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Oh, then indeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You must be a great friend, for this was kept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most secret from all others.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">A great friend!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was my page some fifteen years ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all his life I have watched over him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if he were my son! I have come to beg<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A favour—let me see him when he comes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My husband was a soldier, and I am skilled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In wounds. In Palestine I saved his life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When every leech despaired of it, a wound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caused by a poisoned arrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRIORESS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">You shall see him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have some skill myself in balms and simples,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, in these deadlier matters I would fain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust to your wider knowledge.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Let me see him alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone, you understand. His mind is fevered.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have an influence over him. Do not say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I am here, or aught that will excite him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better say nothing—lead him gently in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leave him. In my hands he is like a child.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRIORESS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It shall be done. I see you are subtly versed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the poor workings of our mortal minds.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I learnt much from a wise old Eastern leech<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I was out in Palestine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRIORESS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">I have heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They have great powers and magic remedies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They can restore youth to the withered frame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is only one thing that they cannot do.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRIORESS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">They cannot raise the dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRIORESS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">Ah, no;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am most glad to hear you say it, most glad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To know we think alike. That is most true—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes—yes—most true; for God alone, dear friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can raise the dead!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>A bell begins tolling slowly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">The bell for even-song!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have not long to wait.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Shadowy figures of nuns pass the windows and enter the chapel. The sunset deepens.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Will you not pray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With me?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The <span class="smcap">Prioress</span> and <span class="smcap">Queen Elinor</span> kneel down together before a little shrine. Enter the <span class="smcap">Novice</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">NOVICE<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">There is a forester at the door.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mother, I think 'tis he!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRIORESS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Rising.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Admit him, then.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Leave me: I will keep praying till he comes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRIORESS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You are trembling! You are not afraid?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>With eyes closed as in strenuous devotion.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">No; no;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave me, I am but praying!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>A chant swells up in the chapel. Exit <span class="smcap">Prioress. Elinor</span> continues +muttering as in prayer. Enter <span class="smcap">Robin Hood</span>, +steadying himself on his bow, weak and white. She +rises and passes between him and the door to confront +him.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, Robin, you have come to me at last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For healing. Pretty Marian cannot help you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all her kisses.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN HOOD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Staring at her wildly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">You! I did not know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That you were here. I did not ask your help.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I must go—Marian!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He tries to reach the door, but reels in a half faint on the way. +<span class="smcap">Elinor</span> supports him as he pauses, panting for breath.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Robin, your heart is hard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both to yourself and me. You cannot go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rejecting the small help which I can give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if I were a leper. Ah, come back.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are you so unforgiving? God forgives!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did you not see me praying for your sake?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think, if you think not of yourself, oh, think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Marian—can you leave her clinging arms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, for the cold grave, Robin? I have risked<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much, life itself, to bring you help this day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have some skill in wounds.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>She holds him closer and brings her face near to his own, looking +into his eyes.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Ah, do you know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How slowly, how insidiously this death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Creeps, coil by tightening coil, around a man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he is weak as you are? Do you know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How the last subtle coil slips round your throat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the flat snake-like head lifts up and peers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With cruel eyes of cold, keen inquisition,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rivetting your own, until the blunt mouth sucks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your breath out with one long, slow, poisonous kiss?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN HOOD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O God, that nightmare! Leave me! Let me go!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You stare at me as if you saw that snake.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ha! Ha! Your nerves are shaken; you are so weak!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">You cannot go! What! Fainting? Ah, rest here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon this couch.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>She half supports, half thrusts him back to a couch, in an alcove +out of sight and draws a curtain. There is a knock at +the door.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Who's there?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRIORESS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Madam, I came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To know if I could help in anything.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nothing! His blood runs languidly. It needs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pricking of a vein to make the heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beat, and the sluggish rivers flow. I have brought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lance for it. I'll let a little blood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not over-much; enough, enough to set<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pulses throbbing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">PRIORESS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Maid Marian came with him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She waits without and asks—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Let her not come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Near him till all is done. Let her not know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anything, or the old fever will awake.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll lance his arm now!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The <span class="smcap">Prioress</span> closes the door. <span class="smcap">Elinor</span> goes into the alcove. The +chant from the chapel swells up again. <span class="smcap">Queen Elinor</span> comes out of the alcove, white and trembling. +She speaks in a low whisper as she looks back.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, trickle down, sweet blood. Grow white, fond lips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That have kissed Marian—yet, she shall not boast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You kissed her last; for I will have you wake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the fierce memory of this kiss in heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or burn with it in hell;</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>She kneels down as if to kiss the face of <span class="smcap">Robin</span>, within. The +chant from the chapel swells up more loudly. The door +slowly opens. <span class="smcap">Marian</span> steals in. <span class="smcap">Elinor</span> rises and confronts +her.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Laying a hand upon <span class="smcap">Robin's</span> bow beside her.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hush! Do not wake him!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>In a low voice.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">What have you done with him?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>As <span class="smcap">Marian</span> advances towards the couch.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i44">He is asleep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush! Not a step further! Stay where you are! His life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hangs on a thread.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +<span class="i20">Why do you stare upon me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What have you done? What's this that trickles down—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Stoops to the floor and leaps back with a scream.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is blood. You have killed him!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ELINOR<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Seizes the bow and shoots. <span class="smcap">Marian</span> falls.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Follow him—down to hell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King John will find you there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exit. The scene grows dark.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Lifts her head with a groan.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">I am dying, Robin!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O God, I cannot wake him! Robin! Robin!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me one word to take into the dark!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He will not wake! He will not wake! O God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Help him!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>She falls back unconscious. <span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span>, a green spray +in his hand, opens the casement and stands for a moment +in the window against the last glow of sunset, then +enters and runs to the side of <span class="smcap">Robin</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Hurriedly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Awake, awake, Robin, awake!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The forest waits to help you! All the leaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are listening for your bugle. Ah, where is it?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let but one echo sound and the wild flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will break thro' these grey walls and the green sprays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drag down these deadly towers. Wake, Robin, wake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let the forest drown the priest's grey song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With happy murmurs. Robin, the gates are open<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For you and Marian! All I had to give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have given to thrust them open, the dear gates<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fairyland which I shall never pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again. I can no more, I am but a shadow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dying as mortals die! It is not I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That calls, not I, but Marian. Hear her voice!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robin, awake!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, master mine, farewell!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Exit lingeringly through the casement.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Robin</span> is dimly seen in the mouth of the alcove. He stretches out +his hands blindly in the dark.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Marian! Why do you call to me in dreams?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why do you call me? I must go. What's this?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Help me, kind God, for I must say one word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only one word—good-bye—to Marian,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Marian—Ah, too weak, too weak!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He sees the dark body of <span class="smcap">Marian</span> and utters a cry, falling on his +knees beside her.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">O God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marian! Marian!<br /></span> +<span class="i18">My bugle! Ah, my bugle!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>He rises to his feet and, drowning the distant organ-music, he +blows a resounding forest-call. It is answered by several +in the forest. He falls on his knees by <span class="smcap">Marian</span> and +takes her in his arms.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Marian, Marian, who hath used thee so?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Robin, it is my death-wound. Ah, come close.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Marian, Marian, what have they done to thee?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The <span class="smcap">Outlaws</span> are heard thundering at the gates with cries.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OUTLAWS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Robin! Robin! Robin! Break down the doors.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The terrified nuns stream past the window, out of the chapel. +The <span class="smcap">Outlaws</span> rush into the room. The scene still +darkens.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Robin and Marian!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Christ, what devil's hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath played the butcher here? Quick, hunt them down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They passed out yonder. Let them not outlive<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our murdered king and queen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">REYNOLD GREENLEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">O Robin, Robin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who shot this bitter shaft into her breast?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Several stoop and kneel by the two lovers.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN HOOD<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Speak to me, Marian, speak to me, only speak!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just one small word, one little loving word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like those—do you remember?—you have breathed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So many a time and often, against my cheek,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the boughs of Sherwood, in the dark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At night, with nothing but the boughs and stars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between us and the dear God up in heaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O God, why does a man's heart take so long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To break? It would break sooner if you spoke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A word to me, a word, one small kind word.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweetheart!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweetheart! You have broken it, broken it! Oh, kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kind heart of Marian!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MARIAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Robin, come soon!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Dies.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Soon, sweetheart! Oh, her sweet brave soul is gone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marian, I follow quickly!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SCARLET<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">God, Kirklee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall burn for this!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Kirklee shall burn for this!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O master, master, you shall be avenged!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ROBIN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No; let me stand upright! Your hand, good Scarlet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We have lived our lives and God be thanked we go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Together thro' this darkness. We shall wake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Please God, together. It is growing darker!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot see your faces. Give me my bow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quickly into my hands, for my strength fails<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I must shoot one last shaft on the trail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of yonder setting sun, never to reach it!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But where this last, last bolt of all my strength,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My hope, my love, shall fall, there bury us both,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Together, and tread the green turf over us!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bow!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Scarlet</span> hands him his bow. He stands against the faint glow +of the window, draws the bow to full length, shoots and +falls back into the arms of <span class="smcap">Little John</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LITTLE JOHN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Laying him down.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Weep, England, for thine outlawed lover,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear Robin Hood, the poor man's friend, is dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The scene becomes quite dark. Then out of the darkness, and as +if at a distance, the voice of <span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> is +heard singing the fairy song of the first scene. The +fairy glade in Sherwood begins to be visible in the gloom +by the soft light of the ivory gates which are swinging +open once more among the ferns. As the scene grows +clearer the song of <span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> grows more and +more triumphant and is gradually caught up by the +>chorus of the fairy host within the woods.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Song of <span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span>.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">The world begins again!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And O, the red of the roses,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">And the rush of the healing rain!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">The Princess wakes from sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i10">For the soft green keys of the wood-land<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Have opened her donjon-keep!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Their grey walls hemmed us round;<br /></span> +<span class="i10">But, under my greenwood oceans,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Their castles are trampled and drowned.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">My green sprays climbed on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And the ivy laid hold on their turrets<br /></span> +<span class="i12">And haled them down from the sky!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">They were strong! They are overthrown!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">For the little soft hands of the wild-flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Have broken them, stone by stone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Though Robin lie dead, lie dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And the green turf by Kirklee<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Lie light over Marian's head,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Green ferns on the crimson sky-line,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">What bugle have you heard?<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Was it only the peal of the blue-bells,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Was it only the call of a bird?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">The rose o'er the fortalice floats!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">My nightingales chant in their chapels,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">My lilies have bridged their moats!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">King Death, in the light of the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Shrinks like an elfin shadow!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">His reign is over and done!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The hawthorn whitens the wood-land;<br /></span> +<span class="i12">My lovers, awake, awake,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Shake off the grass-green coverlet,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Glide, bare-foot, thro' the brake!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">And, under the great green boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">I have found out a place for my lovers,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">I have built them a beautiful house.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Green ferns in the dawn-red dew-fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">This gift by my death I give,—<br /></span> +<span class="i10">They shall wander immortal thro' Sherwood!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">In my great green house they shall live!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">When the first wind blows from the South,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">They shall meet by the Gates of Faërie!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">She shall set her mouth to his mouth!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XIV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He shall gather her, fold her and keep her;<br /></span> +<span class="i12">They shall pass thro' the Gates, they shall live!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">For the Forest, the Forest has conquered!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">This gift by my death I give!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered! The Forest has conquered!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">The world awakes anew;<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And O, the scent of the hawthorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">And the drip of the healing dew!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The song ceases. <span class="smcap">Titania</span> and <span class="smcap">Oberon</span> come out into the moon-lit glade.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet one night more the gates of fairyland<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are opened by a mortal's kindly deed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Robin Hood and Marian now are driven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As we shall soon be driven, from the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of cruel mortals.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Mortals call them dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oberon, what is death?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Only a sleep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But these may dream their happy dreams in death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before they wake to that new lovely life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the shadows; for poor Shadow-of-a-Leaf<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has given them this by love's eternal law<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sacrifice, and they shall enter in<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To dream their lover's dream in fairyland.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And Shadow-of-a-Leaf?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">He cannot enter now.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gates are closed against him.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">But is this<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ever?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +<span class="i10">We fairies have not known or heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What waits for those who, like this wandering Fool,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Throw all away for love. But I have heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a great King, out beyond the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not Richard, who is dead, nor yet King John;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a great King who one day will come home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clothed with the clouds of heaven from His Crusade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The great King!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Hush, the poor dark mortals come!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The crowd of serfs, old men, poor women, and children, begin to +enter as the fairy song swells up within the gates again. +<span class="smcap">Robin</span> and <span class="smcap">Marian</span> are led along by a crowd of fairies +at the end of the procession.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TITANIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there, see, there come Robin and his bride.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the fairies lead them on, strewing their path<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With ferns and moon-flowers. See, they have entered in!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>The last fairy vanishes thro' the gates.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">OBERON<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And we must follow, for the gates may close<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ever now. Hundreds of years may pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before another mortal gives his life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To help the poor and needy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i><span class="smcap">Oberon</span> and <span class="smcap">Titania</span> follow hand in hand thro' the gates. They +begin to close. <span class="smcap">Shadow-of-a-Leaf</span> steals wistfully +and hesitatingly across, as if to enter. They close +in his face. He goes up to them and leans against +them sobbing, a small green figure, looking like a +greenwood spray against their soft ivory glow. The +fairy music dies. He sinks to his knees and holds up +his hands. Immediately a voice is heard singing and +drawing nearer thro' the forest.</i>]<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Song—drawing nearer.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Knight on the narrow way,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where wouldst thou ride?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Onward," I heard him say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Love, to thy side!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nay," sang a bird above,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Stay, for I see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death in the mask of love<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Waiting for thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Blondel</span>, leading a great white steed. He stops and looks at the kneeling figure.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">BLONDEL<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shadow-of-a-Leaf!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Rising to his feet.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">Blondel!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">BLONDEL<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">I go to seek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My King!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>In passionate grief.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">The King is dead!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">BLONDEL<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>In yet more passionate joy and triumph.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">The great King lives!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Then more tenderly.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Will you not come and look for Him with me?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>They go slowly together through the forest and are lost to sight. +<span class="smcap">Blondel's</span> voice is heard singing the third stanza +of the song in the distance, further and further away.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Death? What is Death?" he cried.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"I must ride on!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> +<h2>TALES OF THE MERMAID TAVERN</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">A Knight of the Ocean-sea</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under that foggy sunset London glowed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like one huge cob-webbed flagon of old wine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as I walked down Fleet Street, the soft sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mowed thro' the roaring thoroughfares, transfused<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their hard sharp outlines, blurred the throngs of black<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On either pavement, blurred the rolling stream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of red and yellow busses, till the town<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turned to a golden suburb of the clouds.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, round that mighty bubble of St. Paul's,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the up-turned faces of the street,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An air-ship slowly sailed, with whirring fans,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A voyager in the new-found realms of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A shadowy silken chrysalis whence should break<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What radiant wings in centuries to be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So, wandering on, while all the shores of Time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Softened into Eternity, it seemed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dead man touched me with his living hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A flaming legend passed me in the streets<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of London—laugh who will—that City of Clouds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where what a dreamer yet, in spite of all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is man, that splendid visionary child<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who sent his fairy beacon through the dusk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a blue bus before the moon was risen,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This Night, at eight, The Tempest!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">Dreaming thus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Small wonder that my footsteps went astray!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I found myself within a narrow street,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone. There was no rumour, near or far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the long tides of traffic. In my doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I turned and knocked upon an old inn-door,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hard by, an ancient inn of mullioned panes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And crazy beams and over-hanging eaves:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as I knocked, the slowly changing west<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seemed to change all the world with it and leave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only that old inn steadfast and unchanged,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A rock in the rich-coloured tides of time.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, suddenly, as a song that wholly escapes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remembrance, at one note, wholly returns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, as I knocked, memory returned to me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I knew it all—the little twisted street,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rough wet cobbles gleaming, far away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like opals, where it ended on the sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, overhead, the darkly smiling face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that old wizard inn; I knew by rote<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The smooth sun-bubbles in the worn green paint<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the doors and shutters.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">There was one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Myself had idly scratched away one dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One mad May-dawn, three hundred years ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When out of the woods we came with hawthorn boughs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And found the doors locked, as they seemed to-night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three hundred years ago—nay, Time was dead!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No need to scan the sign-board any more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where that white-breasted siren of the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curled her moon-silvered tail among such rocks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As never in the merriest seaman's tale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broke the blue-bliss of fabulous lagoons<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the Spanish Main.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">And, through the dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even as I stood and listened, came a sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of clashing wine-cups: then a deep-voiced song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made the old timbers of the Mermaid Inn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shake as a galleon shakes in a gale of wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When she rolls glorying through the Ocean-sea.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10"><span class="smcap">Song</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Marchaunt Adventurers, chanting at the windlass,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Early in the morning, we slipped from Plymouth Sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All for Adventure in the great New Regions,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All for Eldorado and to sail the world around!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sing! the red of sun-rise ripples round the bows again.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Marchaunt Adventurers, O sing, we're outward bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All to stuff the sunset in our old black galleon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All to seek the merchandise that no man ever found.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Marchaunt Adventurers!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Marchaunt Adventurers!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Marchaunt Adventurers, O, whither are ye bound?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All for Eldorado and the great new Sky-line,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All to seek the merchandise that no man ever found.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Marchaunt Adventurers, O, what'ull ye bring home again?—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wonders and works and the thunder of the sea!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom will ye traffic with?—The King of the Sunset!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What shall be your pilot then?—A wind from Galilee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, but ye be marchaunts, will ye come back empty-handed?—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ay, we be marchaunts, though our gain we ne'er shall see.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast we now our bread upon the waste wild waters.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">After many days, it shall return with usury.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Marchaunt Adventurers!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Marchaunt Adventurers!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">What shall be your profit in the mighty days to be?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Englande!—Englande!—Englande!—Englande!—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Glory everlasting and the lordship of the sea!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">And there, framed in the lilac patch of sky<br /></span> +<span class="i8">That ended the steep street, dark on its light,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And standing on those glistering cobblestones<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Just where they took the sunset's kiss, I saw<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A figure like foot-feathered Mercury,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Tall, straight and splendid as a sunset-cloud.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clad in a crimson doublet and trunk-hose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A rapier at his side; and, as he paused,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His long fantastic shadow swayed and swept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against my feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">A moment he looked back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then swaggered down as if he owned a world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which had forgotten—did I wake or dream?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even his gracious ghost!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Over his arm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He swung a gorgeous murrey-coloured cloak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Ciprus velvet, caked and smeared with mud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As on the day when—did I dream or wake?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And had not all this happened once before?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he had laid that cloak before the feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Gloriana! By that mud-stained cloak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas he! Our Ocean-Shepherd! Walter Raleigh!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He brushed me passing, and with one vigorous thrust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Opened the door and entered. At his heels<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I followed—into the Mermaid!—through three yards<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of pitch-black gloom, then into an old inn-parlour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swimming with faces in a mist of smoke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That up-curled, blue, from long Winchester pipes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While—like some rare old picture, in a dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Recalled—quietly listening, laughing, watching,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale on that old black oaken wainscot floated<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One bearded oval face, young, with deep eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom Raleigh hailed as "Will!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">But as I stared<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sudden buffet from a brawny hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made all my senses swim, and the room rang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With laughter as upon the rush-strewn floor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My feet slipped and I fell. Then a gruff voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Growled over me—"Get up now, John-a-dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or else mine host must find another drawer!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hast thou not heard us calling all this while?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as I scrambled up, the rafters rang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With cries of "Sack! Bring me a cup of sack!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canary! Sack! Malmsey! and Muscadel!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I understood and flew. I was awake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A leather-jerkined pot-boy to these gods,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A prentice Ganymede to the Mermaid Inn!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, flitting to and fro with cups of wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard them toss the Chrysomelan names<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From mouth to mouth—Lyly and Peele and Lodge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kit Marlowe, Michael Drayton, and the rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Ben, rare Ben, brick-layer Ben, who rolled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a great galleon on his ingle-bench.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some twenty years of age he seemed; and yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This young Gargantua with the bull-dog jaws,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The T, for Tyburn, branded on his thumb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grim pock-pitted face, was growling tales<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Dekker that would fright a buccaneer.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How in the fierce Low Countries he had killed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His man, and won that scar on his bronzed fist;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was taken prisoner, and turned Catholick;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, now returned to London, was resolved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To blast away the vapours of the town<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Boreas-throated plays of thunderous mirth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I'll thwack their Tribulation-Wholesomes, lad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their Yellow-faced Envies and lean Thorns-i'-the-Flesh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the <i>Black-friars Theatre</i>, or <i>The Rose</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or else <i>The Curtain</i>. Failing these, I'll find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some good square inn-yard with wide galleries,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And windows level with the stage. 'Twill serve<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Comedy of Vapours; though, I grant.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Tragedy a private House is best,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, just as Burbage tip-toes to a deed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of blood, or, over your stable's black half-door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marked <i>Battlements</i> in white chalk, your breathless David<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glowers at the whiter Bathsheba within,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some humorous coach-horse neighs a 'hallelujah'!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the pit splits its doublets. Over goes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The whole damned apple-barrel, and the yard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is all one rough and tumble, scramble and scratch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of prentices, green madams, and cut-purses<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For half-chewed Norfolk pippins. Never mind!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll build the perfect stage in Shoreditch yet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Will, there, hath half promised I shall write<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A piece for his own company! What d'ye think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of <i>Venus and Adonis</i>, his first heir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Printed last week? A bouncing boy, my lad!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's at work on a Midsummer's Dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That turns the world to fairyland!"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">All these<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many more were there, and all were young!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, as I brimmed their cups, I heard the voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Raleigh ringing across the smoke-wreathed room,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ben, could you put a frigate on the stage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've found a tragedy for you. Have you heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The true tale of Sir Humphrey Gilbert?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i40">"No!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Why, Ben, of all the tragical affairs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the Ocean-sea, and of that other Ocean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where all men sail so blindly, and misjudge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their friends, their charts, their storms, their stars, their God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If there be truth in the blind crowder's song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bought in Bread Street for a penny, this<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is the brief type and chronicle of them all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listen!" Then Raleigh sent these rugged rhymes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of some blind crowder rolling in great waves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of passion across the gloom. At each refrain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sank his voice to a broad deep undertone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if the distant roar of breaking surf<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the low thunder of eternal tides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Filled up the pauses of the nearer storm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Storm against storm, a soul against the sea:—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>A KNIGHT OF THE OCEAN-SEA</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Humphrey Gilbert, hard of hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Knight-in-chief of the Ocean-sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gazed from the rocks of his New Found Land<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thought of the home where his heart would be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He gazed across the wintry waste<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That weltered and hissed like molten lead,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He saileth twice who saileth in haste!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll wait the favour of Spring," he said.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6"><i>Ever the more, ever the more,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>He heard the winds and the waves roar!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Thunder on thunder shook the shore.</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The yellow clots of foam went by<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like shavings that curl from a ship-wright's plane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clinging and flying, afar and nigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shuddering, flying and clinging again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A thousand bubbles in every one<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shifted and shimmered with rainbow gleams;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But—had they been planets and stars that spun<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He had let them drift by his feet like dreams:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heavy of heart was our Admirall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For, out of his ships—and they were but three!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had lost the fairest and most tall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And—he was a Knight of the Ocean-sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6"><i>Ever the more, ever the more,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>He heard the winds and the waves roar!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Thunder on thunder shook the shore.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heavy of heart, heavy of heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For she was a galleon mighty as May,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the storm that ripped her glory apart<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had stripped his soul for the winter's way;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he was aware of a whisper blown<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From foc'sle to poop, from windward to lee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the fault was his, and his alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And—he was a Knight of the Ocean-sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Had he done that! Had he done this!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And yet his mariners loved him well;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But an idle word is hard to miss,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the foam hides more than the deep can tell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the deep had buried his best-loved books,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With many a hard-worn chart and plan:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a king that is conquered must see strange looks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So bitter a thing is the heart of man!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And—"Who will you find to pay your debt?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a venture like this is a costly thing!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will they stake yet more, tho' your heart be set<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the mightier voyage you planned for the Spring?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He raised his head like a Viking crowned,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I'll take my old flag to her Majestie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she will lend me ten thousand pound<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To make her Queen of the Ocean-sea!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>Ever the more, ever the more,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>He heard the winds and the waves roar!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Thunder on thunder shook the shore.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Outside—they heard the great winds blow!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Outside—the blustering surf they heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bravest there would ha' blenched to know<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That they must be taken at their own word.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For the great grim waves were as molten lead<br /></span> +<span class="i2">—And he had two ships who sailed with three!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And I sail not home till the Spring," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"They are all too frail for the Ocean-sea."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the trumpeter thought of an ale-house bench,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the cabin-boy longed for a Devonshire lane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the gunner remembered a green-gowned wench,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the fos'cle whisper went round again,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sir Humphrey Gilbert is hard of hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But his courage went down with the ship, may-be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we wait for the Spring in a desert land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For—<i>he is afraid of the Ocean-sea</i>."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>Ever the more, ever the more,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>He heard the winds and the waves roar!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Thunder on thunder shook the shore.</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He knew, he knew how the whisper went!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He knew he must master it, last or first!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He knew not how much or how little it meant;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But his heart was heavy and like to burst.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Up with your sails, my sea-dogs all!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The wind has veered! And my ships," quoth he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They will serve for a British Admirall<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who is Knight-in-chief of the Ocean-sea!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His will was like a North-east wind<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That swept along our helmless crew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he would not stay on the <i>Golden Hynde</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For that was the stronger ship of the two.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My little ship's-company, lads, hath passed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Perils and storms a-many with me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would ye have me forsake them at the last?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They'll need a Knight of the Ocean-sea!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>Ever the more, ever the more,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>We heard the winds and the waves roar!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Thunder on thunder shook the shore.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beyond Cape Race, the pale sun splashed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The grim grey waves with silver light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, ever in front, his frigate crashed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Eastward, for England and the night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And still as the dark began to fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ever in front of us, running free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We saw the sails of our Admirall<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Leading us home through the Ocean-sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>Ever the more, ever the more,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>We heard the winds and the waves roar!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>But he sailed on, sailed on before.</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On Monday, at noon of the third fierce day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A-board our <i>Golden Hynde</i> he came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a trail of blood, marking his way<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the salt wet decks as he walked half-lame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For a rusty nail thro' his foot had pierced.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Come, master-surgeon, mend it for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though I would it were changed for the nails that amerced<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The dying thief upon Calvary."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The surgeon bathed and bound his foot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the master entreated him sore to stay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But roughly he pulled on his great sea-boot<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With—"The wind is rising and I must away!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I know not why so little a thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When into his pinnace we helped him down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should make our eyelids prick and sting<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the salt spray were into them blown,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But he called as he went—"Keep watch and steer<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By my lanthorn at night!" Then he waved his hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a kinglier watch-word, "We are as near<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To heaven, my lads, by sea as by land!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>Ever the more, ever the more,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>We heard the gathering tempest roar!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>But he sailed on, sailed on before.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three hundred leagues on our homeward road,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We strove to signal him, swooping nigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he would ease his decks of their load<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of nettings and fights and artillery.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And dark and dark that night 'gan fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And high the muttering breakers swelled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till that strange fire which seamen call<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Castor and Pollux," we beheld,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An evil sign of peril and death,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Burning pale on the high main-mast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But calm with the might of Gennesareth<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our Admirall's voice went ringing past,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clear thro' the thunders, far and clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mighty to counsel, clear to command,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joyfully ringing, "We are as near<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To heaven, my lads, by sea as by land!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>Ever the more, ever the more,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>We heard the rising hurricane roar!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>But he sailed on, sailed on before.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And over us fled the fleet of the stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, ever in front of us, far or nigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lanthorn on his cross-tree spars<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dipped to the Pit or soared to the Sky!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twould sweep to the lights of Charles's Wain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the hills of the deep 'ud mount and flee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then swoop down vanishing cliffs again<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the thundering gulfs of the Ocean-sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We saw it shine as it swooped from the height,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With ruining breakers on every hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then—a cry came out of the black mid-night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As near to heaven by sea as by land!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the light was out! Like a wind-blown spark;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All in a moment! And we—and we—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prayed for his soul as we swept thro' the dark:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For he was a Knight of the Ocean-sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>Over our fleets for evermore</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>The winds 'ull triumph and the waves roar!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>But he sails on, sails on before!</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Silence a moment held the Mermaid Inn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Michael Drayton, raising a cup of wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood up and said,—"Since many have obtained<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Absolute glory that have done great deeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But fortune is not in the power of man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So they that, truly attempting, nobly fail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deserve great honour of the common-wealth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such glory did the Greeks and Romans give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To those that in great enterprises fell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeking the true commodity of their country<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And profit to all mankind; for, though they failed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Being by war, death, or some other chance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hindered, their images were set up in brass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marble and silver, gold and ivory,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In solemn temples and great palace-halls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No less to make men emulate their virtues<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than to give honour to their just deserts.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God, from the time that He first made the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath kept the knowledge of His Ocean-sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the huge Æquinoctiall Continents<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reserved unto this day. Wherefore I think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No high exploit of Greece and Rome but seems<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little thing to these Discoveries<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which our adventurous captains even now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are making, out there, Westward, in the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Captains most worthy of commendation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hugh Willoughby—God send him home again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Safe to the Mermaid!—and Dick Chauncellor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That excellent pilot. Doubtless this man, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Humphrey Gilbert, was worthy to be made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knight of the Ocean-sea. I bid you all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stand up, and drink to his immortal fame!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<h4>A COINER OF ANGELS</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some three nights later, thro' the thick brown fog,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A link-boy, dropping flakes of crimson fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flared to the door and, through its glowing frame,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben Jonson and Kit Marlowe, arm in arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swaggered into the Mermaid Inn and called<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For red-deer pies.<br /></span> +<span class="i24">There, as they supped, I caught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scraps of ambrosial talk concerning Will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His <i>Venus and Adonis</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i30">"Gabriel thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas wrong to change the old writers and create<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A cold Adonis."<br /></span> +<span class="i24">—"Laws were made for Will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not Will for laws, since first he stole a buck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Charlecote woods."<br /></span> +<span class="i22">—"Where never a buck chewed fern,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laughed Kit, "unless it chewed the fern seed, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And walked invisible."<br /></span> +<span class="i24">"Bring me some wine," called Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with his knife thrumming upon the board,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He chanted, while his comrade munched and smiled.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Will Shakespeare's out like Robin Hood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With his merry men all in green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To steal a deer in Charlecote wood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where never a deer was seen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's hunted all a night of June,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's followed a phantom horn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's killed a buck by the light of the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Under a fairy thorn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's carried it home with his merry, merry band,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There never was haunch so fine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For this buck was born in Elfin-land<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fed upon sops-in-wine.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This buck had browsed on elfin boughs<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of rose-marie and bay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's carried it home to the little white house<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of sweet Anne Hathaway.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The dawn above your thatch is red!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Slip out of your bed, sweet Anne!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have stolen a fairy buck," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"The first since the world began.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Roast it on a golden spit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And see that it do not burn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For we never shall feather the like of it<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out of the fairy fern."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She scarce had donned her long white gown<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And given him kisses four,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the surly Sheriff of Stratford-town<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Knocked at the little green door.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They have gaoled sweet Will for a poacher;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But squarely he fronts the squire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With "When did you hear in your woods of a deer?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was it under a fairy briar?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Thomas he puffs,—"If God thought good<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My water-butt ran with wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or He dropt me a buck in Charlecote wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wot it is mine, not thine!"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If you would eat of elfin meat,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says Will, "you must blow up your horn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take your bow, and feather the doe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That's under the fairy thorn!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">XI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If you would feast on elfin food,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You've only the way to learn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take your bow and feather the doe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That's under the fairy fern!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">XII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They're hunting high, they're hunting low,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They're all away, away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With horse and hound to feather the doe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That's under the fairy spray!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">XIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Thomas he raged! Sir Thomas he swore!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But all and all in vain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For there never was deer in his woods before,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there never would be again!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i0">And, as I brought the wine—"This is my grace,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laughed Kit, "Diana grant the jolly buck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Shakespeare stole were toothsome as this pie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He suddenly sank his voice,—"Hist, who comes here?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look—Richard Bame, the Puritan! O, Ben, Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your Mermaid Inn's the study for the stage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your only teacher of exits, entrances,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the shifting comedy. Be grave!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bame is the godliest hypocrite on earth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remember I'm an atheist, black as coal.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He has called me Wormall in an anagram.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Help me to bait him; but be very grave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll talk of Venus."<br /></span> +<span class="i22">As he whispered thus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A long white face with small black-beaded eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peered at him through the doorway. All too well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Afterwards, I recalled that scene, when Bame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of revenge for this same night, I guessed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Penned his foul tract on Marlowe's tragic fate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, twelve months later, I watched our Puritan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Riding to Tyburn in the hangman's cart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thieving from an old bed-ridden dame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With whom he prayed, at supper-time, on Sundays.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like a conspirator he sidled in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clasping a little pamphlet to his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While, feigning not to see him, Ben began:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Will's <i>Venus and Adonis</i>, Kit, is rare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A round, sound, full-blown piece of thorough work,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a great canvas, coloured like one I saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Italy, by one—Titian! None of the toys<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of artistry your lank-haired losels turn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your Phyllida—Love-lies-bleeding—Kiss-me-Quicks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your fluttering Sighs and Mark-how-I-break-my-beats,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Begotten like this, whenever and how you list,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your Moths of verse that shrivel in every taper;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a sound piece of craftsmanship to last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until the stars are out. 'Tis twice the length<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Vergil's books—he's listening! Nay, don't look!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two hundred solid stanzas, think of that;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But each a square celestial brick of gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laid level and splendid. I've laid bricks and know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What thorough work is. If a storm should shake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Tower of London down, Will's house would stand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look at his picture of the stallion,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nostril to croup, that's thorough finished work!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Twill shock our Tribulation-Wholesomes, Ben!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think of that kiss of Venus! Deep, sweet, slow,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the dawn breaking to its perfect flower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And golden moon of bliss; then slow, sweet, deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a great honeyed sunset it dissolves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Away!"<br /></span> +<span class="i10">A hollow groan, like a bass viol,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Resounded thro' the room. Up started Kit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In feigned alarm—"What, Master Richard Bame!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quick, Ben, the good man's ill. Bring him some wine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red wine for Master Bame, the blood of Venus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That stained the rose!"<br /></span> +<span class="i24">"White wine for Master Bame,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben echoed, "Juno's cream that" ... Both at once<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They thrust a wine-cup to the sallow lips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smote him on the back.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sirs, you mistake!" coughed Bame, waving his hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And struggling to his feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i28">"Sirs, I have brought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A message from a youth who walked with you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In wantonness, aforetime, and is now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Groaning in sulphurous fires!"<br /></span> +<span class="i32">"Kit, that means hell!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Yea, sirs, a pamphlet from the pit of hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Written by Robert Greene before he died.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mark what he styles it—<i>A Groatsworth of Wit</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Bought with a Million of Repentance</i>!"<br /></span> +<span class="i42">"Ah,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor Rob was all his life-time either drunk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wenching, or penitent, Ben! Poor lad, he died<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young. Let me see now, Master Bame, you say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rob Greene wrote this on earth before he died,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then you printed it yourself in hell!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Stay, sir, I came not to this haunt of sin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make mirth for Beëlzebub!"<br /></span> +<span class="i32">"O, Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That's you!"<br /></span> +<span class="i16">"'Swounds, sir, am I Beëlzebub?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ogs-gogs!" roared Ben, his hand upon his hilt!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay, sir, I signified the god of flies!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I spake out of the scriptures!" snuffled Bame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With deprecating eye.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i26">"I come to save<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A brand that you have kindled at your fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not yet charred, not yet so far consumed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One Richard Cholmeley, who declares to all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was persuaded to turn atheist<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Marlowe's reasoning. I have wrestled with him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But find him still so constant to your words<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That only you can save him from the fire."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Why, Master Bame," said Kit, "had I the keys<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hell, the damned should all come out and dance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A morrice round the Mermaid Inn to-night."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay, sir, the damned are damned!"<br /></span> +<span class="i36">"Come, sit you down!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take some more wine! You'd have them all be damned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Except Dick Cholmeley. What must I unsay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To save him?" A quick eyelid dropt at Ben.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now tell me, Master Bame!"<br /></span> +<span class="i28">"Sir, he derides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The books of Moses!"<br /></span> +<span class="i26">"Bame, do you believe?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's none to hear us but Beëlzebub—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do you believe that we must taste of death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because God set a foolish naked wench<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too near an apple-tree, how long ago?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Five thousand years? But there were men on earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long before that!" "Nay, nay, sir, if you read<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The books of Moses...." "Moses was a juggler!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A juggler, sir, how, what!" "Nay, sir, be calm!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take some more wine—the white, if that's too red!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I never cared for Moses! Help yourself<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To red-deer pie. Good!<br /></span> +<span class="i28">All the miracles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You say that he performed—why, what are they?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know one Heriots, lives in Friday Street,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can do much more than Moses! Eat your pie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In patience, friend, the mouth of man performs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One good work at a time. What says he, Ben?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The red-deer stops his—what? Sticks in his gizzard?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O—<i>led them through the wilderness</i>! No doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He did—for forty years, and might have made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The journey in six months. Believe me, sir,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That is no miracle. Moses gulled the Jews!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Skilled in the sly tricks of the Egyptians,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only one art betrayed him. Sir, his books<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are filthily written. I would undertake—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I were put to write a new religion—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A method far more admirable. Eh, what?<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Gruel in the vestibule?</i> Interpret, Ben!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His mouth's too full! <i>O, the New Testament!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, there, consider, were not all the Apostles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fishermen and base fellows, without wit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or worth?"—again his eyelid dropt at Ben.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The Apostle Paul alone had wit, and he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was a most timorous fellow in bidding us<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prostrate ourselves to worldly magistrates<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against our conscience! I shall fry for this?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fear no bugbears or hobgoblins, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And would have all men not to be afraid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of roasting, toasting, pitch-forks, or the threats<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of earthly ministers, tho' their mouths be stuffed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With curses or with crusts of red-deer pie!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One thing I will confess—if I must choose—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me the Papists that can serve their God<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not with your scraps, but solemn ceremonies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Organs, and singing men, and shaven crowns.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your protestant is a hypocritical ass!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Profligate! You blaspheme!" Up started Bame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little unsteady now upon his feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shaking his crumpled pamphlet over his head!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nay—if your pie be done, you shall partake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A second course. Be seated, sir, I pray.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We atheists will pay the reckoning!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I had forgotten that a Puritan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will swallow Moses like a red-deer pie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet choke at a wax-candle! Let me read<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your pamphlet. What, 'tis half addressed to me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ogs-gogs! Ben! Hark to this—the Testament<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of poor Rob Greene would cut Will Shakespeare off<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With less than his own Groatsworth! Hark to this!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there, unseen by them, a quiet figure</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Entered the room and beckoning me for wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seated himself to listen, Will himself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Marlowe read aloud with knitted brows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"'<i>Trust them not; for there is an upstart crow</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Beautified with our feathers!</i>'<br /></span> +<span class="i30">—O, he bids<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All green eyes open:—'<i>And, being an absolute</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Johannes fac-totum is in his own conceit</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The only Shake-scene in a country!</i>'"<br /></span> +<span class="i34">"Feathers!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Exploded Ben. "Why, come to that, he pouched<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your eagle's feather of blank verse, and lit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Friar Bacon's little magic lamp<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the Promethean fire of Faustus. Jove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was a faery buck, indeed, that Will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poached in that greenwood."<br /></span> +<span class="i28">"Ben, see that you walk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like Adam, naked! Nay, in nakedness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adam was first. Trust me, you'll not escape<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This calumny! Vergil is damned—he wears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hen-coop round his waist, nicked in the night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Homer! Plato is branded for a thief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, he wrote Greek! And old Prometheus, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who stole his fire from heaven!"<br /></span> +<span class="i30">"Who printed it?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Chettle! I know not why, unless he too<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be one of those same dwarfs that find the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too narrow for their jealousies. Ben, Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I tell thee 'tis the dwarfs that find no world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wide enough for their jostling, while the giants,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gods themselves, can in one tavern find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Room wide enough to swallow the wide heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all its crowded solitary stars."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Why, then, the Mermaid Inn should swallow this,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The voice of Shakespeare quietly broke in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As laying a hand on either shoulder of Kit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He stood behind him in the gloom and smiled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the table at Ben, whose eyes still blazed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With boyhood's generous wrath. "Rob was a poet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And had I known ... no matter! I am sorry</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He thought I wronged him. His heart's blood beats in this.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look, where he says he dies forsaken, Kit!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Died drunk, more like," growled Ben. "And if he did,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will answered, "none was there to help him home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had not a poor old cobbler chanced upon him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dying in the streets, and taken him to his house,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let him break his heart on his own bed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Read his last words. You know he left his wife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And played the moth at tavern tapers, burnt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His wings and dropt into the mud. Read here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His dying words to his forsaken wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Written in blood, Ben, blood. Read it, '<i>I charge thee,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Doll, by the love of our youth, by my soul's rest,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>See this man paid! Had he not succoured me</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I had died in the streets.</i>' How young he was to call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus on their poor dead youth, this withered shadow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That once was Robin Greene. He left a child—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See—in its face he prays her not to find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The father's, but her own. '<i>He is yet green</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And may grow straight</i>,' so flickers his last jest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then out for ever. At the last he begged<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A penny-pott of malmsey. In the bill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All's printed now for crows and daws to peck,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll find four shillings for his winding sheet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had the poet's heart and God help all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who have that heart and somehow lose their way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For lack of helm, souls that are blown abroad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the great winds of passion, without power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sway them, chartless captains. Multitudes ply<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trimly enough from bank to bank of Thames<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like shallow wherries, while tall galleons,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of their very beauty driven to dare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The uncompassed sea, founder in starless nights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all that we can say is—'They died drunk!'"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I have it from veracious witnesses,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bame snuffled, "that the death of Robert Greene<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was caused by a surfeit, sir, of Rhenish wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pickled herrings. Also, sir, that his shirt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was very foul, and while it was at wash<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lay i' the cobbler's old blue smock, sir!"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i44">"Gods,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The voice of Raleigh muttered nigh mine ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I had a dirty cloak once on my arm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a Queen's feet had trodden it! Drawer, take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yon pamphlet, have it fried in cod-fish oil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bring it hither. Bring a candle, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sealing-wax! Be quick. The rogue shall eat it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then I'll seal his lips."<br /></span> +<span class="i30">"No—not to-night,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kit whispered, laughing, "I've a prettier plan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Master Bame."<br /></span> +<span class="i22">"As for that scrap of paper,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The voice of Shakespeare quietly resumed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Why, which of us could send his heart and soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' Caxton's printing-press and hope to find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pretty pair unmangled. I'll not trust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spoken word, no, not of my own lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the Judgment Throne against myself<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or on my own defence; and I'll not trust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The printed word to mirror Robert Greene.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See—here's another Testament, in blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Written, not printed, for the Mermaid Inn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rob sent it from his death-bed straight to me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Read it. 'Tis for the Mermaid Inn alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when 'tis read, we'll burn it, as he asks."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then, from the hands of Shakespeare, Marlowe took<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little scroll, and, while the winds without<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rattled the shutters with their ghostly hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wailed among the chimney-tops, he read:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Greeting to all the Mermaid Inn<br /></span> +<span class="i6">From their old Vice and Slip of Sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Greeting, Ben, to you, and you<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Will Shakespeare and Kit Marlowe, too.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Greeting from your Might-have-been,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Your broken sapling, Robert Greene.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Read my letter—'Tis my last,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Then let Memory blot me out,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I would not make my maudlin past<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A trough for every swinish snout.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">First, I leave a debt unpaid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's all chalked up, not much all told,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For Bread and Sack. When I am cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Doll can pawn my Spanish blade<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pay mine host. She'll pay mine'host!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But ... I have chalked up other scores<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In your own hearts, behind the doors,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not to be paid so quickly. Yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O, if you would not have my ghost<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Creeping in at dead of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out of the cold wind, out of the wet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With weeping face and helpless fingers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Trying to wipe the marks away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Read what I can write, still write,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While this life within them lingers.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let me pay, lads, let me pay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Item</i>, for a peacock phrase,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flung out in a sudden blaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flung out at his friend Shake-scene,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By this ragged Might-have-been,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This poor Jackdaw, Robert Greene.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Will, I knew it all the while!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And you know it—and you smile!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My quill was but a Jackdaw's feather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While the quill that Ben, there, wields,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fluttered down thro' azure fields,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From an eagle in the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And yours, Will, yours, no earth-born thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A plume of rainbow-tinctured grain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dropt out of an angel's wing.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Only a Jackdaw's feather mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And mine ran ink, and Ben's ran wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And yours the pure Pierian streams.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">But I had dreams, O, I had dreams!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dreams, you understand me, Will;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I fretted at the tether<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That bound me to the lowly plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gnawed my heart out, for I knew<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Once, tho' that was long ago,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I might have risen with Ben and you<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Somewhere near that Holy Hill<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whence the living rivers flow.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let it pass. I did not know<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One bitter phrase could ever fly<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So far through that immortal sky<br /></span> +<span class="i2">—Seeing all my songs had flown so low—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One envious phrase that cannot die<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From century to century.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kit Marlowe ceased a moment, and the wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if indeed the night were all one ghost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wailed round the Mermaid Inn, then sent once more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its desolate passion through the reader's voice:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Some truth there was in what I said.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Kit Marlowe taught you half your trade;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And something of the rest you learned<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From me,—but all you took you earned.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You took the best I had to give,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You took my clay and made it live;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And that—why that's what God must do!—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My music made for mortal ears<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You flung to all the listening spheres.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You took my dreams and made them true.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, if I claimed them, the blank air<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Might claim the breath I shape to prayer.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I do not claim it! Let the earth<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Claim the thrones she brings to birth.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let the first shapers of our tongue<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Claim whate'er is said or sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till the doom repeal that debt<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And cancel the first alphabet.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet when, like a god, you scaled<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The shining crags where my foot failed;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I saw my fruit of the vine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Foam in the Olympian cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or in that broader chalice shine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blood-red, a sacramental drink,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With stars for bubbles, lifted up,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through the universal night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Up to the celestial brink,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Up to that quintessential Light<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where God acclaimed you for the wine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Crushed from those poor grapes of mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O, you'll understand, no doubt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How the poor vine-dresser fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How a pin-prick can let out<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All the bannered hosts of hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nay, a knife-thrust, the sharp truth—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I had spilt my wine of youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Temple was not mine to build.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My place in the world's march was filled.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Yet—through all the years to come—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Men to whom my songs are dumb<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will remember them and me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For that one cry of jealousy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That curse where I had come to bless,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That harsh voice of unhappiness.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They'll note the curse, but not the pang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not the torment whence it sprang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They'll note the blow at my friend's back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But not the soul stretched on the rack.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They'll note the weak convulsive sting,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not the crushed body and broken wing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Item</i>, for my thirty years,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dashed with sun and splashed with tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wan with revel, red with wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This Jack-o-lanthorn life of mine.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Other wiser, happier men,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Take the full three-score-and-ten,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Climb slow, and seek the sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dancing down is soon done.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Golden boys, beware, beware,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The ambiguous oracles declare<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Loving gods for those that die<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Young, as old men may; but I,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quick as was my pilgrimage,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wither in mine April age.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>Item</i>, one groatsworth of wit,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Bought at an exceeding price,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Ay, a million of repentance.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Let me pay the whole of it.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Lying here these deadly nights,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Lads, for me the Mermaid lights<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Gleam as for a castaway<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Swept along a midnight sea<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The harbour-lanthorns, each a spark,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A pin-prick in the solid dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">That lets trickle through a ray<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Glorious out of Paradise,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">To stab him with new agony.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Let me pay, lads, let me pay!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Let the Mermaid pass the sentence:<br /></span> +<span class="i8">I am pleading guilty now,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A dead leaf on the laurel-bough,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And the storm whirls me away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kit Marlowe ceased; but not the wailing wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That round and round the silent Mermaid Inn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wandered, with helpless fingers trying the doors,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a most desolate ghost.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">A sudden throng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of players bustled in, shaking the rain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From their plumed hats. "Veracious witnesses,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The snuffle of Bame arose anew, "declare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was a surfeit killed him, Rhenish wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pickled herrings. His shirt was very foul.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had but one. His doublet, too, was frayed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his boots broken ..."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">"What! Gonzago, you!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A short fat player called in a deep voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the room and, throwing aside his cloak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To show the woman's robe he wore beneath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Minced up to Bame and bellowed—"'Tis such men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As you that tempt us women to our fall!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the throng of players rocked and roared,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till at a nod and wink from Kit a hush<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Held them again.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">"Look to the door," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Is any listening?" The young player crept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mask of mystery, to the door and peeped.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"All's well! The coast is clear!"<br /></span> +<span class="i34">"Then shall we tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our plan to Master Bame?"<br /></span> +<span class="i32">Round the hushed room<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went Kit, a pen and paper in his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whispering each to read, digest, and sign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Ben re-filled the glass of Master Bame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And now," said Kit aloud, "what think you, lads?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall he be told?" Solemnly one or two<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Gan shake their heads with "Safety! safety! Kit!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O, Bame can keep a secret! Come, we'll tell him!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He can advise us how a righteous man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should act! We'll let him share an he approve.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, Master Bame,—come closer—my good friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben Jonson here, hath lately found a way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of—hush! Come closer!—coining money, Bame."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Coining!" "Ay, hush, now! Hearken! A certain sure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And indiscoverable method, sir!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is acquainted with one Poole, a felon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lately released from Newgate, hath great skill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In mixture of metals—hush!—and, by the help<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a right cunning maker of stamps, we mean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To coin French crowns, rose-nobles, pistolettes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Angels and English shillings."<br /></span> +<span class="i30">For one breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bame stared at him with bulging beetle-eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then murmured shyly as a country maid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In her first wooing, "Is't not against the law?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Why, sir, who makes the law? Why should not Bame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Coin his own crowns like Queen Elizabeth?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She is but mortal! And consider, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The good works it should prosper in your hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without regard to red-deer pies and wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White as the Milky Way. Such secrets, Bame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were not good for the general; but a few<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Discreet and righteous palms, your own, my friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mine,—what think you?"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i28">With a hesitant glance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of well-nigh child-like cunning, screwing his eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bame laughed a little huskily and looked round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At that grave ring of anxious faces, all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holding their breath and thrilling his blunt nerves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With their stage-practice. "And no risk?" breathed Bame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"No risk at all?" "O, sir, no risk at all!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We make the very coins. Besides, that part<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touches not you. Yours is the honest face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That's all we want."<br /></span> +<span class="i22">"Why, sir, if you be sure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is no risk ..."<br /></span> +<span class="i22">"You'll help to spend it. Good!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll talk anon of this, and you shall carry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More angels in your pocket, master Bame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than e'er you'll meet in heaven. Set hand on seal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To this now, master Bame, to prove your faith.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, all have signed it. Here's the quill, dip, write.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good!"<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And Kit, pocketing the paper, bowed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gull to the inn-door, saying as he went,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"You shall hear further when the plan's complete.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But there's one great condition—not one word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One breath of scandal more on Robert Greene.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's dead; but he was one of us. The day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You air his shirt, I air this paper, too."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No gleam of understanding, even then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illumed that long white face: no stage, indeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has known such acting as the Mermaid Inn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That night, and Bame but sniggered, "Why, of course,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's good in all men; and the best of us<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will make mistakes."<br /></span> +<span class="i20">"But no mistakes in this,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Kit, "or all together we shall swing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Tyburn—who knows what may leap to light?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You understand? No scandal!" "Not a breath!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, in dead silence, Master Richard Bame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went out into the darkness and the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To ask, as I have heard, for many a moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The price of malmsey-butts and silken hose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And doublets slashed with satin.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i34">As the door<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slammed on his back, the pent-up laughter burst<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With echo and re-echo round the room,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ceased as Will tossed on the glowing hearth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last poor Testament of Robert Greene.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All watched it burn. The black wind wailed and moaned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around the Mermaid as the sparks flew up.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"God, what a night for ships upon the sea,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Raleigh, peering through the wet black panes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Well—we may thank Him for the Little Red Ring!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>The Little Red Ring</i>," cried Kit, "<i>the Little Red Ring!</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then up stood Dekker on the old black settle.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Give it a thumping chorus, lads," he called,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sang this brave song of the Mermaid Inn:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Seven wise men on an old black settle,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Seven wise men of the Mermaid Inn,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ringing blades of the one right metal,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">What is the best that a blade can win?<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Bread and cheese, and a few small kisses?<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Ha! ha! ha! Would you take them—you?<br /></span> +<span class="i6">—Ay, if Dame Venus would add to her blisses<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A roaring fire and a friend or two!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Up now, answer me, tell me true!—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">—Ay, if the hussy would add to her blisses<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A roaring fire and a friend or two!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">What will you say when the world is dying?<br /></span> +<span class="i8">What, when the last wild midnight falls<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Dark, too dark for the bat to be flying<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Round the ruins of old St. Paul's?<br /></span> +<span class="i6">What will be last of the lights to perish?<br /></span> +<span class="i8">What but the little red ring we knew,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Lighting the hands and the hearts that cherish<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A fire, a fire, and a friend or two!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus</i>: Up now, answer me, tell me true!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">What will be last of the stars to perish?<br /></span> +<span class="i8">—The fire that lighteth a friend or two!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Up now, answer me, on your mettle<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Wisest man of the Mermaid Inn,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Soberest man on the old black settle,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Out with the truth! It was never a sin.—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Well, if God saved me alone of the seven,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Telling me <i>you</i> must be damned, or <i>you</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"This," I would say, "This is hell, not heaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Give me the fire and a friend or two!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Steel was never so ringing true:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"God," we would say, "this is hell, not heaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Give us the fire, and a friend or two!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<h4>BLACK BILL'S HONEY-MOON</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The garlands of a Whitsun ale were strewn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About our rushes, the night that Raleigh brought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bacon to sup with us. There, on that night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw the singer of the <i>Faërie Queen</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quietly spreading out his latest cantos<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Shakespeare's eye, like white sheets in the sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marlowe, our morning-star, and Michael Drayton<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Talked in that ingle-nook. And Ben was there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Humming a song upon that old black settle:<br /></span> +<span class="i9">"Or leave a kiss but in the cup<br /></span> +<span class="i9">And I'll not ask for wine."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, meanwhile, he drank malmsey.<br /></span> +<span class="i30">Francis Bacon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Straddled before the fire; and, all at once,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said to Shakespeare, in a voice that gripped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Mermaid Tavern like an arctic frost:</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>There are no poets in this age of ours,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Not to compare with Plautus. They are all</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Dead, the men that were famous in old days.</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Why—so they are," said Will. The humming stopped.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw poor Spenser, a shy gentle soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With haunted eyes like starlit forest pools,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smuggling his cantos under his cloak again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"There's verse enough, no doubt," Bacon went on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But English is no language for the Muse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom would you call our best? There's Gabriel Harvey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Edward, Earl of Oxford. Then there's Dyer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Doctor Golding; while, for tragedy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thomas, Lord Buckhurst, hath a lofty vein.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, in a lighter prettier vein, why, Will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is <i>thyself!</i> But—where's Euripides?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Dead," echoed Ben, in a deep ghost-like voice.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drip—drip—drip—outside we heard the rain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Miserably dropping round the Mermaid Inn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thy Summer's Night—eh, Will? Midsummer's Night?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That's a quaint fancy," Bacon droned anew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But—Athens was an error, Will! Not Athens!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Titania knew not Athens! Those wild elves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of thy Midsummer's Dream—eh? Midnight's Dream?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are English all. Thy woods, too, smack of England;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They never grew round Athens. Bottom, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is not Greek!"<br /></span> +<span class="i16">"Greek?" Will said, with a chuckle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Bottom a Greek? Why, no, he was the son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Marian Hacket, the fat wife that kept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An ale-house, Wincot-way. I lodged with her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Walking from Stratford. You have never tramped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along that countryside? By Burton Heath?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, well, you would not know my fairylands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It warms my blood to let my home-spuns play<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around your cold white Athens. There's a joy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In jumping time and space."<br /></span> +<span class="i32">But, as he took<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cup of sack I proffered, solemnly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lawyer shook his head. "Will, couldst thou use</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy talents with discretion, and obey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Classic examples, those mightst match old Plautus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all except priority of the tongue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This English tongue is only for an age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Latin for all time. So I propose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To embalm in Latin my philosophies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well seize your hour! But, ere you die, you'll sail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A British galleon to the golden courts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Cleopatra."<br /></span> +<span class="i18">"Sail it!" Marlowe roared,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mimicking in a fit of thunderous glee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The drums and trumpets of his Tamburlaine:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And let her buccaneers bestride the sphinx,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And play at bowls with Pharaoh's pyramids,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hale white Egypt with their tarry hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home to the Mermaid! Lift the good old song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Rob Greene loved. Gods, how the lad would shout it!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stand up and sing, John Davis!"<br /></span> +<span class="i34">"Up!" called Raleigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Lift the chanty of Black Bill's Honey-moon, Jack!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll keep the chorus going!"<br /></span> +<span class="i32">"Silence, all!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben Jonson echoed, rolling on his bench:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"This gentle lawyer hath a longing, lads,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hear a right Homeric hymn. Now, Jack!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But wet your whistle, first! A cup of sack<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the first canto! Muscadel, the next!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canary for the last!" I brought the cup.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">John Davis emptied it at one mighty draught,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leapt on a table, stamped with either foot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And straight began to troll this mad sea-tale:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10"><b>CANTO THE FIRST</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Let Martin Parker at hawthorn-tide<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Prattle in Devonshire lanes,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Let all his pedlar poets beside<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Rattle their gallows-chains,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">A tale like mine they never shall tell<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Or a merrier ballad sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Till the Man in the Moon pipe up the tune<br /></span> +<span class="i12">And the stars play Kiss-in-the-Ring!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Till Philip of Spain in England reign,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And the stars play Kiss-in-the-Ring!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">All in the gorgeous dawn of day<br /></span> +<span class="i10">From grey old Plymouth Sound<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Our galleon crashed thro' the crimson spray<br /></span> +<span class="i10">To sail the world around:<br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Cloud i' the Sun</i> was her white-scrolled name,—<br /></span> +<span class="i10">There was never a lovelier lass<br /></span> +<span class="i8">For sailing in state after pieces of eight<br /></span> +<span class="i10">With her bombards all of brass.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Culverins, robinets, iron may-be;<br /></span> +<span class="i10">But her bombards all of brass!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Now, they that go down to the sea in ships,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Though piracy be their trade,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">For all that they pray not much with their lips<br /></span> +<span class="i10">They know where the storms are made:<br /></span> +<span class="i8">With the stars above and the sharks below,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">They need not parson or clerk;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">But our bo'sun Bill was an atheist still,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Except—sometimes—in the dark!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Now let Kit Marlowe mark!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Our bo'sun Bill was an atheist still,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Except—sometimes—in the dark!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">All we adventured for, who shall say,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Nor yet what our port might be?—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A magical city of old Cathay,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Or a castle of Muscovy,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">With our atheist bo'sun, Bill, Black Bill,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Under the swinging Bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Whistling at night for a seaman to light<br /></span> +<span class="i10">His little poop-lanthorns there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> On the deep, in the night, for a seaman to light<br /></span> +<span class="i10">His little lost lanthorns there.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">But, as over the Ocean-sea we swept,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">We chanced on a strange new land<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Where a valley of tall white lilies slept<br /></span> +<span class="i10">With a forest on either hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A valley of white in a purple wood<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And, behind it, faint and far,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Breathless and bright o'er the last rich height,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Floated the sunset-star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Fair and bright o'er the rose-red height,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Venus, the sunset-star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">'Twas a marvel to see, as we beached our boat,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Black Bill, in that peach-bloom air,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">With the great white lilies that reached to his throat<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Like a stained-glass bo'sun there,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And our little ship's chaplain, puffing and red,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">A-starn as we onward stole,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">With the disk of a lily behind his head<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Like a cherubin's aureole.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> He was round and red and behind his head<br /></span> +<span class="i10">He'd a cherubin's aureole.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">"Hyrcania, land of honey and bees,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">We have found thee at last," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"Where the honey-comb swells in the hollow trees,"<br /></span> +<span class="i10">(O, the lily behind his head!)<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"The honey-comb swells in the purple wood!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">'Tis the swette which the heavens distil,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Saith Pliny himself, on my little book-shelf!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Is the world not sweet to thee, Bill?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> "Saith Pliny himself, on my little book-shelf!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Is the world not sweet to thee, Bill?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Now a man may taste of the devil's hot spice,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And yet if his mind run back<br /></span> +<span class="i8">To the honey of childhood's Paradise<br /></span> +<span class="i10">His heart is not wholly black;</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i8">And Bill, Black Bill, from the days of his youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Tho' his chest was broad as an oak,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Had cherished one innocent little sweet tooth,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And it itched as our chaplain spoke.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> He had kept one perilous little tooth,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And it itched as our chaplain spoke.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">All around was a mutter of bees,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And Bill 'gan muttering too,—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"If the honey-comb swells in the hollow trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">(What else can a Didymus do?)<br /></span> +<span class="i8">I'll steer to the purple woods myself<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And see if this thing be so,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Which the chaplain found on his little book-shelf,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">For Pliny lived long ago."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> There's a platter of delf on his little book-shelf,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And Pliny lived long ago.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Scarce had he spoken when, out of the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And buffeting all around,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Rooting our sea-boots where we stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">There rumbled a marvellous sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">As a mountain of honey were crumbling asunder,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Or a sunset-avalanche hurled<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Honey-comb boulders of golden thunder<br /></span> +<span class="i10">To smother the old black world.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Honey-comb boulders of musical thunder<br /></span> +<span class="i10">To mellow this old black world.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">And the chaplain he whispered—"This honey, one saith,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">On my camphired cabin-shelf,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">None may harvest on pain of death;<br /></span> +<span class="i10">For the bee would eat it himself!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">None walketh those woods but him whose voice<br /></span> +<span class="i10">In the dingles you then did hear!"<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"A <span class="smcap">Voice</span>?" growls Bill. "Ay, Bill, r-r-rejoice!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">'Twas the great Hyrcanian Bear!"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Give thanks! <i>Re</i>-joice! 'Twas the glor-r-r-ious Voice<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Of the great Hyrcanian Bear!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">But, marking that Bill looked bitter indeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">For his sweet tooth hungered sore,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"Consider," he saith, "that the Sweet hath need<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Of the Sour, as the Sea of the Shore!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">As the night to the day is our grief to our joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And each for its brother prepares<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A banquet, Bill, that would otherwise cloy.<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Thus is it with honey and bears."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Roses and honey and laughter would cloy!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Give us thorns, too, and sorrow and bears!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">"Consider," he saith, "how by fretting a string<br /></span> +<span class="i10">The lutanist maketh sweet moan,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And a bird ere it fly must have air for its wing<br /></span> +<span class="i10">To buffet or fall like a stone:<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Tho' you blacken like Pluto you make but more white<br /></span> +<span class="i10">These blooms which not Enna could yield!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Consider, Black Bill, ere the coming of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">The lilies," he saith, "of the field."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> "Consider, Black Bill, in this beautiful light,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">The lilies," he saith, "of the field."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">"Consider the claws of a Bear," said Bill,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">"That can rip off the flesh from your bones,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">While his belly could cabin the skipper and still<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Accommodate Timothy Jones!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Why, that's where a seaman who cares for his grog<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Perspires how this world isn't square!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">If there's <i>cause</i> for a <i>cow</i>, if there's <i>use</i> for a <i>dog</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">By Pope John, there's no <i>Sense</i> in a <i>Bear!</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Cause for a cow, use for a dog,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">By'r Lakin, no <i>Sense</i> in a <i>Bear!</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">But our little ship's chaplain—"Sense," quoth he,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">"Hath the Bear tho' his making have none;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">For, my little book saith, by the sting of this bee<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Would Ursus be wholly foredone,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">But, or ever the hive he adventureth nigh<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And its crisp gold-crusted dome,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">He lardeth his nose and he greaseth his eye<br /></span> +<span class="i10">With a piece of an honey-comb."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> His velvety nose and his sensitive eye<br /></span> +<span class="i10">With a piece of an honey-comb.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Black Bill at the word of that golden crust<br /></span> +<span class="i10">—For his ears had forgotten the roar,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And his eyes grew soft with their innocent lust—<br /></span> +<span class="i10">'Gan licking his lips once more:<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"Be it bound like a missal and printed as fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">With capitals blue and red,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">'Tis a lie; for what honey could comfort a bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Till the bear win the honey?" he said.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> "Ay, <i>whence</i> the first honey wherewith the first bear<br /></span> +<span class="i10">First larded his nose?" he said.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">"Thou first metaphysical bo'sun, Bill,"<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Our chaplain quizzingly cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"Wilt thou riddle me redes of a dumpling still<br /></span> +<span class="i10">With thy 'how came the apple inside'?"<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"Nay," answered Bill, "but I quest for truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And I find it not on your shelf!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">I will face your Hyrcanian bear, forsooth,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And look at his nose myself."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> For truth, for truth, or a little sweet tooth—<br /></span> +<span class="i10">I will into the woods myself.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Breast-high thro' that foam-white ocean of bloom<br /></span> +<span class="i10">With its wonderful spokes of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Our sun-burnt crew in the rose-red gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Like buccaneer galleons rolled:</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i8">Breast-high, breast-high in the lilies we stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And before we could say "good-night,"<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Out of the valley and into the wood<br /></span> +<span class="i10">He plunged thro' the last rich light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Out of the lilies and into the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Where the Great Bear walks all night!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">And our little ship's chaplain he piped thro' the trees<br /></span> +<span class="i10">As the moon rose, white and still,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"Hylas, return to thy Heracles!"<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And we helped him with "Come back, Bill!"<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Thrice he piped it, thrice we halloo'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And thrice we were dumb to hark;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">But never an answer came from the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">So—we turned to our ship in the dark.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Good-bye, Bill! you're a Didymus still;<br /></span> +<span class="i10">But—you're all alone in the dark.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">"This honey now"—as the first canto ceased,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The great young Bacon pompously began—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"Which Pliny calleth, as it were, the swette<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Of heaven, or spettle of the stars, is found<br /></span> +<span class="i8">In Muscovy. Now ..." "Bring the muscadel,"<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Ben Jonson roared—"'Tis a more purple drink,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And suits with the next canto!"<br /></span> +<span class="i42">At one draught<br /></span> +<span class="i8">John Davis drained the cup, and with one hand<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Beating the measure, rapidly trolled again.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>CANTO THE SECOND</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Now, Rabelais, art thou quite foredone,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Dan Chaucer, Drayton, Every One!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Leave we aboard our <i>Cloud i' the Sun</i><br /></span> +<span class="i16">This crew of pirates dreaming—<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Of Angels, minted in the blue<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Like golden moons, Rose-nobles, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">As under the silver-sliding dew<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Our emerald creek lay gleaming!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Under the stars lay gleaming!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">And mailed with scales of gold and green<br /></span> +<span class="i14">The high star-lilied banks between,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Nosing our old black hulk unseen,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Great alligators shimmered:<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Blood-red jaws i' the blue-black ooze,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Where all the long warm day they snooze,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Chewing old cuds of pirate-crews,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Around us grimly glimmered.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Their eyes like rubies glimmered.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Let us now sing of Bill, good sirs!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Follow him, all green forestéres,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Fearless of Hyrcanian bears<br /></span> +<span class="i16">As of these ghostly lilies!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">For O, not Drayton there could sing<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Of wild Pigwiggen and his King<br /></span> +<span class="i14">So merry a jest, so jolly a thing<br /></span> +<span class="i16">As this my tale of Bill is.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Into the woods where Bill is!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Now starts he as a white owl hoots,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And now he stumbles over roots,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And now beneath his big sea-boots<br /></span> +<span class="i16">In yon deep glade he crunches<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Black cakes of honey-comb that were<br /></span> +<span class="i14">So elfin-sweet, perchance, last year;<br /></span> +<span class="i14">But neither Bo'sun, now, nor Bear<br /></span> +<span class="i16">At that dark banquet munches.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Onward still he crunches!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Black cakes of honey-comb he sees<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Above him in the forks of trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Filled by stars instead of bees,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">With brimming silver glisten:<br /></span> +<span class="i14">But ah, such food of gnome and fay<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Could neither Bear nor Bill delay<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Till where yon ferns and moonbeams play<br /></span> +<span class="i16">He starts and stands to listen!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> What melody doth he listen?</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Is it the Night-Wind as it comes<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Through the wood and softly thrums<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Silvery tabors, purple drums,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">To speed some wild-wood revel?<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Nay, Didymus, what faint sweet din<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Of viol and flute and violin<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Makes all the forest round thee spin,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">The Night-Wind or the Devil?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> No doubt at all—the Devil!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">He stares, with naked knife in hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">This buccaneer in fairyland!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Dancing in a saraband<br /></span> +<span class="i16">The red ferns reel about him!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Dancing in a morrice-ring<br /></span> +<span class="i14">The green ferns curtsey, kiss and cling!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Their Marians flirt, their Robins fling<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Their feathery heels to flout him!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> The whole wood reels about him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Dance, ye shadows! O'er the glade,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Bill, the Bo'sun, undismayed,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Pigeon-toes with glittering blade!<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Drake was never bolder!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Devil or Spaniard, what cares he<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Whence your eerie music be?<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Till—lo, against yon old oak-tree<br /></span> +<span class="i16">He leans his brawny shoulder!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> He lists and leans his shoulder!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Ah, what melody doth he hear<br /></span> +<span class="i14">As to that gnarled old tree-trunk there<br /></span> +<span class="i14">He lays his wind-bit brass-ringed ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">And steals his arm about it?<br /></span> +<span class="i14">What Dryad could this Bo'sun win<br /></span> +<span class="i14">To that slow-rippling amorous grin?—<br /></span> +<span class="i14">'Twas full of singing bees within!<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Not Didymus could doubt it!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> So loud they buzzed about it!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Straight, o'er a bough one leg he throws,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And up that oaken main-mast goes<br /></span> +<span class="i14">With reckless red unlarded nose<br /></span> +<span class="i16">And gooseberry eyes of wonder!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Till now, as in a galleon's hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Below, he sees great cells of gold<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Whence all the hollow trunk up-rolled<br /></span> +<span class="i16">A low melodious thunder.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> A sweet and perilous thunder!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Ay, there, within that hollow tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Will Shakespeare, mightst thou truly see<br /></span> +<span class="i14">The Imperial City of the Bee,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">In Chrysomelan splendour!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And, in the midst, one eight-foot dome<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Swells o'er that Titan honey-comb<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Where the Bee-Empress hath her home,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">With such as do attend her,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Weaponed with stings attend her!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">But now her singing sentinels<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Have turned to sleep in waxen cells,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And Bill leans down his face and smells<br /></span> +<span class="i16">The whole sweet summer's cargo—<br /></span> +<span class="i14">In one deep breath, the whole year's bloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Lily and thyme and rose and broom,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">One Golden Fleece of flower-perfume<br /></span> +<span class="i16">In that old oaken Argo.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> That green and golden Argo!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">And now he hangs with dangling feet<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Over that dark abyss of sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Striving to reach such wild gold meat<br /></span> +<span class="i16">As none could buy for money:<br /></span> +<span class="i14">His left hand grips a swinging branch<br /></span> +<span class="i14">When—crack! Our Bo'sun, stout and stanch,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Falls like an Alpine avalanche,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Feet first into the honey!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Up to his ears in honey!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">And now his red unlarded nose<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And bulging eyes are all that shows<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Above it, as he puffs and blows!<br /></span> +<span class="i16">And now—to 'scape the scathing<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Of that black host of furious bees<br /></span> +<span class="i14">His nose and eyes he fain would grease<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And bobs below those golden seas<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Like an old woman bathing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Old Mother Hubbard bathing!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">And now he struggles, all in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">To reach some little bough again;<br /></span> +<span class="i14">But, though he heaves with might and main,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">This honey holds his ribs, sirs,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">So tight, a barque might sooner try<br /></span> +<span class="i14">To steer a cargo through the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Than Bill, thus honey-logged, to fly<br /></span> +<span class="i16">By flopping of his jib, sirs!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> His tops'l and his jib, sirs!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Like Oberon in the hive his beard<br /></span> +<span class="i14">With wax and honey all besmeared<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Would make the crescent moon afeard<br /></span> +<span class="i16">That now is sailing brightly<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Right o'er his leafy donjon-keep!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">But that she knows him sunken deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And that his tower is straight and steep,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">She would not smile so lightly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Look down and smile so lightly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">She smiles in that small heavenly space,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Ringed with the tree-trunk's leafy grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">While upward grins his ghastly face<br /></span> +<span class="i16">As if some wild-wood Satyr,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Some gnomish Ptolemy should dare<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Up that dark optic tube to stare,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">As all unveiled she floated there,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Poor maiden moon, straight at her!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> The buccaneering Satyr!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">But there, till some one help him out,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Black Bill must stay, without a doubt.<br /></span> +<span class="i14">"<i>Help! Help!</i>" he gives a muffled shout.<br /></span> +<span class="i16">None but the white owls hear it!<br /></span> +<span class="i14"><i>Who? Whoo?</i> they cry: Bill answers "<span class="smcap">Me</span>!<br /></span> +<span class="i14"><i>I am stuck fast in this great tree!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i14"><i>Bring me a rope, good Timothy!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i16"><i>There's honey, lads, we'll share it!</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Ay, now he wants to share it.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Then, thinking help may come with morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">He sinks, half-famished and out-worn,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And scarce his nose exalts its horn<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Above that sea of glory!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">But, even as he owns defeat,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">His belly saith, "A man must eat,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And since there is none other meat,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Come, lap this mess before 'ee!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> This glorious mess before 'ee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Then Dian sees a right strange sight<br /></span> +<span class="i14">As, bidding him a fond good-night,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">She flings a silvery kiss to light<br /></span> +<span class="i16">In that deep oak-tree hollow,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And finds that gold and crimson nose<br /></span> +<span class="i14">A moving, munching, ravenous rose<br /></span> +<span class="i14">That up and down unceasing goes,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Save when he stops to swallow!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> He finds it hard to swallow!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Ay, now his best becomes his worst,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">For honey cannot quench his thirst,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Though he should eat until he burst;<br /></span> +<span class="i16">But, ah, the skies are kindly,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And from their tender depths of blue<br /></span> +<span class="i14">They send their silver-sliding dew.<br /></span> +<span class="i14">So Bill thrusts out his tongue anew<br /></span> +<span class="i16">And waits to catch it—blindly!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> For ah, the stars are kindly!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">And sometimes, with a shower of rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">They strive to ease their prisoner's pain:<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Then Bill thrusts out his tongue again<br /></span> +<span class="i16">With never a grace, the sinner!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And day and night and day goes by,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And never a comrade comes anigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And still the honey swells as high<br /></span> +<span class="i16">For supper, breakfast, dinner!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Yet Bill has grown no thinner!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">The young moon grows to full and throws<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Her buxom kiss upon his nose,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">As nightly over the tree she goes,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">And peeps and smiles and passes,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Then with her fickle silver flecks<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Our old black galleon's dreaming decks;<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And then her face, with nods and becks,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">In midmost ocean glasses.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> 'Twas ever the way with lasses!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Ah, Didymus, hast thou won indeed<br /></span> +<span class="i14">That Paradise which is thy meed?<br /></span> +<span class="i14">(Thy tale not all that run may read!)<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Thy sweet hath now no leaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Now, like an onion in a cup<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Of mead, thou liest for Jove to sup,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Could Polyphemus lift thee up<br /></span> +<span class="i16">With Titan hands to heaven!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> This great oak-cup to heaven!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">The second canto ceased; and, as they raised<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Their wine-cups with the last triumphant note,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Bacon, undaunted, raised his grating voice—<br /></span> +<span class="i12">"This honey which, in some sort, may be styled<br /></span> +<span class="i12">The Spettle of the Stars ..." "Bring the Canary!"<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Ben Jonson roared. "It is a moral wine<br /></span> +<span class="i12">And suits the third, last canto!" At one draught<br /></span> +<span class="i12">John Davis drained it and began anew.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>CANTO THE THIRD</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">A month went by. We were hoisting sail!<br /></span> +<span class="i16">We had lost all hope of Bill;<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Though, laugh as you may at a seaman's tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">He was fast in his honey-comb still!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And often he thinks of the chaplain's word<br /></span> +<span class="i16">In the days he shall see no more,—<br /></span> +<span class="i14">How the Sweet, indeed, of the Sour hath need;<br /></span> +<span class="i16">And the Sea, likewise, of the Shore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> The chaplain's word of the Air and a Bird;<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Of the Sea, likewise, and the Shore!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">"O, had I the wings of a dove, I would fly<br /></span> +<span class="i16">To a heaven, of aloes and gall!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">I have honeyed," he yammers, "my nose and mine eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">And the bees cannot sting me at all!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And it's O, for the sting of a little brown bee,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Or to blister my hands on a rope,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Or to buffet a thundering broad-side sea<br /></span> +<span class="i16">On a deck like a mountain-slope!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> With her mast snapt short, and a list to port<br /></span> +<span class="i16">And a deck like a mountain-slope.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">But alas, and he thinks of the chaplain's voice<br /></span> +<span class="i16">When that roar from the woods out-break—<br /></span> +<span class="i14"><i>R-r-re-joice! R-r-re-joice!</i> "Now, wherefore rejoice<br /></span> +<span class="i16">In the music a bear could make?<br /></span> +<span class="i14">'Tis a judgment, maybe, that I stick in this tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Yet in this I out-argued him fair!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Though I live, though I die, in this honey-comb pie,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">By Pope Joan, there's no sense in a bear!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Notes in a nightingale, plums in a pie,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">By'r Lakin, no <i>Sense</i> in a <i>Bear</i>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">He knew not our anchor was heaved from the mud:<br /></span> +<span class="i16">He was growling it over again,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">When—a strange sound suddenly froze his blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">And curdled his big slow brain!—</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i14">A marvellous sound, as of great steel claws<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Gripping the bark of his tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Softly ascended! Like lightning ended<br /></span> +<span class="i16">His honey-comb reverie!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> The honey-comb quivered! The little leaves shivered!<br /></span> +<span class="i16"><i>Something was climbing the tree!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Something that breathed like a fat sea-cook,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Or a pirate of fourteen ton!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">But it clomb like a cat (tho' the whole tree shook)<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Stealthily tow'rds the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Till, as Black Bill gapes at the little blue ring<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Overhead, which he calls the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">It is clean blotted out by a monstrous Thing<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Which—<i>hath larded its nose and its eye.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> O, well for thee, Bill, that this monstrous Thing<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Hath blinkered its little red eye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Still as a mouse lies Bill with his face<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Low down in the dark sweet gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">While this monster turns round in the leaf-fringed space!<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Then—taking a good firm hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">As the skipper descending the cabin-stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Tail-first with a vast slow tread,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Solemnly, softly, cometh this Bear<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Straight down o'er the Bo'sun's head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Solemnly—slowly—cometh this Bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Tail-first o'er the Bo'sun's head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Nearer—nearer—then all Bill's breath<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Out-bursts in one leap and yell!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And this Bear thinks, "Now am I gripped from beneath<br /></span> +<span class="i16">By a roaring devil from hell!"<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And madly Bill clutches his brown bow-legs,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">And madly this Bear doth hale,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">With his little red eyes fear-mad for the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i16">And Bill's teeth fast in his tail!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Small wonder a Bear should quail!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">To have larded his nose, to have greased his eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">And be stung at the last in his tail.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Pull, Bo'sun! Pull, Bear! In the hot sweet gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Pull Bruin, pull Bill, for the skies!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Pull—out of their gold with a bombard's boom<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Come Black Bill's honeyed thighs!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Pull! Up! Up! Up! with a scuffle and scramble,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">To that little blue ring of bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">This Bear doth go with our Bo'sun in tow<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Stinging his tail, I wis.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> And this Bear thinks—"Many great bees I know,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">But there never was Bee like this!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">All in the gorgeous death of day<br /></span> +<span class="i16">We had slipped from our emerald creek,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And our <i>Cloud i' the Sun</i> was careening away<br /></span> +<span class="i16">With the old gay flag at the peak,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">When, suddenly, out of the purple wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Breast-high thro' the lilies there danced<br /></span> +<span class="i14">A tall lean figure, black as a nigger,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">That shouted and waved and pranced!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> A gold-greased figure, but black as a nigger,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Waving his shirt as he pranced!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">"'Tis Hylas! 'Tis Hylas!" our chaplain flutes,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">And our skipper he looses a shout!<br /></span> +<span class="i14">"'Tis Bill! Black Bill, in his old sea-boots!<br /></span> +<span class="i16"><i>Stand by to bring her about!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i14"><i>Har-r-rd a-starboard!"</i> And round we came,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">With a lurch and a dip and a roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">And a banging boom thro' the rose-red gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i16">For our old Black Bo'sun's soul!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Alive! Not dead! Tho' behind his head<br /></span> +<span class="i16">He'd a seraphin's aureole!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">And our chaplain he sniffs, as Bill finished his tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">(With the honey still scenting his hair!)<br /></span> +<span class="i6">O'er a plate of salt beef and a mug of old ale—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"By Pope Joan, there's no sense in a bear!"<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And we laughed, but our Bo'sun he solemnly growls<br /></span> +<span class="i8">—"Till the sails of yon heavens be furled,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">It taketh—now, mark!—all the beasts in the Ark,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Teeth and claws, too, to make a good world!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Till the great—blue—sails—be—furled,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">It taketh—now, mark!—all the beasts in the Ark,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Teeth and claws, too, to make a good world!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">"Sack! Sack! Canary! Malmsey! Muscadel!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">As the last canto ceased, the Mermaid Inn<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Chorussed. I flew from laughing voice to voice;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">But, over all the hubbub, rose the drone<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Of Francis Bacon,—"Now, this Muscovy<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Is a cold clime, not favourable to bees<br /></span> +<span class="i6">(Or love, which is a weakness of the south)<br /></span> +<span class="i6">As well might be supposed. Yet, as hot lands<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Gender hot fruits and odoriferous spice,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">In this case we may think that honey and flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Are comparable with the light airs of May<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And a more temperate region. Also we see,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">As Pliny saith, this honey being a swette<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Of heaven, a certain spettle of the stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Which, gathering unclean vapours as it falls,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Hangs as a fat dew on the boughs, the bees<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Obtain it partly thus, and afterwards<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Corrupt it in their stomachs, and at last<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Expel it through their mouths and harvest it<br /></span> +<span class="i6">In hives; yet, of its heavenly source it keeps<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A great part. Thus, by various principles<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Of natural philosophy we observe—"<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And, as he leaned to Drayton, droning thus,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I saw a light gleam of celestial mirth<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Flit o'er the face of Shakespeare—scarce a smile—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A swift irradiation from within<br /></span> +<span class="i6">As of a cloud that softly veils the sun.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<h4>THE SIGN OF THE GOLDEN SHOE</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We had just set our brazier smouldering,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To keep the Plague away. Many a house<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was marked with the red cross. The bells tolled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Incessantly. Nash crept into the room<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shivering like a fragment of the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His face yellow as parchment, and his eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burning.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">"The Plague! He has taken it!" voices cried.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"That's not the Plague! The old carrion-crow is drunk;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But stand away. What ails you, Nash my lad?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, through the clamour, as through a storm at sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The master's voice, the voice of Ben, rang out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nash!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Ben leapt to his feet, and like a ship<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shouldering the waves, he shouldered the throng aside.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What ails you, man? What's that upon your breast?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blood?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">"Marlowe is dead," said Nash,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stunned the room to silence ...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">"Marlowe—dead!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben caught him by the shoulders. "Nash! Awake!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What do you mean? Marlowe? Kit Marlowe? Dead?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I supped with him—why—not three nights ago!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You are drunk! You are dazed! There's blood upon your coat!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"That's—where he died," said Nash, and suddenly sank<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sidelong across a bench, bowing his head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between his hands ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wept, I believe. Then, like a whip of steel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lean black figure sprang erect again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Marlowe!" he cried, "Kit Marlowe, killed for a punk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A taffeta petticoat! Killed by an apple-squire!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drunk! I was drunk; but I am sober now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sober enough, by God! Poor Kit is dead."</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Mermaid Inn was thronged for many a night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With startled faces. Voices rose and fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I recall them, in a great vague dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curious, pitiful, angry, thrashing out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tragic truth. Then, all along the Cheape,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ballad-mongers waved their sheets of rhyme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Croaking: <i>Come buy! Come buy! The bloody death</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Of Wormall, writ by Master Richard Bame!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Come buy! Come buy! The Atheist's Tragedy.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, even in Bread Street, at our very door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crowder to his cracked old fiddle sang:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">"<i>He was a poet of proud repute</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>And wrote full many a play,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Now strutting in a silken suit,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Now begging by the way.</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then, out of the hubbub and the clash of tongues,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bawdy tales and scraps of balladry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(As out of chaos rose the slow round world)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last, though for the Mermaid Inn alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Emerged some tragic semblance of a soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some semblance of the rounded truth, a world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glimpsed only through great mists of blood and tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet smitten, here and there, with dreadful light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I believe, from heaven.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Strangely enough,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Though Ben forgot his pipe and Will's deep eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deepened and softened, when they spoke of Kit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For many a month thereafter) it was Nash<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That took the blow like steel into his heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nash, our "Piers Penniless," whom Rob Greene had called<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Young Juvenal," the first satirist of our age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nash, of the biting tongue and subtle sneer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brooded upon it, till his grief became<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sharp as a rapier, ready to lunge in hate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At all the lies of shallower hearts.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">One night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The night he raised the mists from that wild world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He talked with Chapman in the Mermaid Inn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Marlowe's poem that was left half-sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His <i>Hero and Leander</i>.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">"Kit desired,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he died first, that you should finish it,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Nash.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">A loaded silence filled the room<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As with the imminent spirit of the dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listening. And long that picture haunted me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nash, like a lithe young Mephistopheles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaning between the silver candle-sticks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the oak table, with his keen white face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark smouldering eyes, and black, dishevelled hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chapman, with something of the steady strength<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That helms our ships, and something of the Greek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cool clear passion of Platonic thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind the fringe of his Olympian beard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And broad Homeric brows, confronting him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gravely.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i9">There was a burden of mystery<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brooding on all that night; and, when at last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chapman replied, I knew he felt it, too.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The curious pedantry of his wonted speech<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was charged with living undertones, like truths<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too strange and too tremendous to be breathed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save thro' a mask. And though, in lines that flamed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once with strange rivalry, Shakespeare himself defied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chapman, that spirit "by spirits taught to write<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above a mortal pitch," Will's nimbler sense<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was quick to breathings from beyond our world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And could not hold them lightly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32">"Ah, then Kit,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Chapman, "had some prescience of his end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like many another dreamer. What strange hints<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of things past, present, and to come, there lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sealed in the magic pages of that music<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, laying strong hold on universal laws,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ranges beyond these mud-walls of the flesh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though dull wits fail to follow. It was this<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That made men find an oracle in the books<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Vergil, and an everlasting fount<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of science in the prophets."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Once again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That haunted silence filled the shadowy room;</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, far away up Bread Street, we could hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crowder, piping of black Wormall still:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"<i>He had a friend, once gay and green,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Who died of want alone,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>In whose black fate he might have seen</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>The warning of his own.</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Strange he should ask a hod-man like myself<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To crown that miracle of his April age,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Chapman, murmuring softly under breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>Amorous Leander, beautiful and young</i> ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, Nash, had I been only charged to raise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of its grave in the green Hellespont<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The body of that boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make him sparkle and leap thro' the cold waves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fold young Hero to his heart again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The task were scarce as hard.<br /></span> +<span class="i28">But ... stranger still,"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his next words, although I hardly knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that he meant, went tingling through my flesh—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Before you spoke, before I knew his wish,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I had begun to write!<br /></span> +<span class="i22">I knew and loved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His work. Himself I hardly knew at all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet—I know him now! I have heard him now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, since he pledged me in so rare a cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll lift and drink to him, though lightnings fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From envious gods to scourge me. I will lift<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This cup in darkness to the soul that reigns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In light on Helicon. Who knows how near?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I have thought, sometimes, when I have tried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To work his will, the hand that moved my pen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was mine, and yet—not mine. The bodily mask<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is mine, and sometimes, dull as clay, it sleeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With old Musæus. Then strange flashes come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oracular glories, visionary gleams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the mask moves, not of itself, and sings."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I know that thought," said Nash. "A mighty ship,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lightning-shattered wreck, out in that night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unseen, has foundered thundering. We sit here</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snug on the shore, and feel the wash of it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The widening circles running to our feet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can such a soul go down to glut the sharks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without one ripple? Here comes one sprinkle of spray.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listen!" And through that night, quick and intense,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hushed for thunder, tingled once again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a thin wire, the crowder's distant tune:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"<i>Had he been prenticed to the trade</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>His father followed still,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>This exit he had never made,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Nor played a part so ill.</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Here is another," said Nash, "I know not why;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But like a weed in the long wash, I too<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was moved, not of myself, to a tune like this.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, I can play the crowder, fiddle a song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a dead friend, with any the best of you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lie and kick heels in the sun on a dead man's grave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet—God knows—it is the best we can;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And better than the world's way, to forget."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So saying, like one that murmurs happy words<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To torture his own grief, half in self-scorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He breathed a scrap of balladry that raised<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mists a moment from that Paradise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That primal world of innocence, where Kit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In childhood played, outside his father's shop,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the sign of the <i>Golden Shoe</i>, as thus:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">A cobbler lived in Canterbury<br /></span> +<span class="i4">—He is dead now, poor soul!—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">He sat at his door and stitched in the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nodding and smiling at everyone;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For St. Hugh makes all good cobblers merry,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And often he sang as the pilgrims passed,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"I can hammer a soldier's boot,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And daintily glove a dainty foot.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Many a sandal from my hand<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Has walked the road to Holy Land.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Knights may fight for me, priests may pray for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Pilgrims walk the pilgrim's way for me,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i4">I have a work in the world to do!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">—<i>Trowl the bowl, the nut-brown bowl,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>To good St. Hugh!</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The cobbler must stick to his last."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">And anon he would cry<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"Kit! Kit! Kit!" to his little son,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"Look at the pilgrims riding by!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Dance down, hop down, after them, run!"<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Then, like an unfledged linnet, out<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Would tumble the brave little lad,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With a piping shout,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"O, look at them, look at them, look at them, Dad!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Priest and prioress, abbot and friar,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Soldier and seaman, knight and squire!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">How many countries have they seen?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Is there a king there, is there a queen<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Dad, one day,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thou and I must ride like this,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">All along the Pilgrim's Way,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By Glastonbury and Samarcand,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">El Dorado and Cathay,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">London and Persepolis,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">All the way to Holy Land!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Then, shaking his head as if he knew,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Under the sign of the <i>Golden Shoe</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Touched by the glow of the setting sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">While the pilgrims passed,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The little cobbler would laugh and say:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"When you are old you will understand<br /></span> +<span class="i4">'Tis a very long way<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To Samarcand!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Why, largely to exaggerate<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Befits not men of small estate,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But—I should say, yes, I should say,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">'Tis a hundred miles from where you stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And a hundred more, my little son,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A hundred more, to Holy Land!...</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i4">I have a work in the world to do<br /></span> +<span class="i4">—<i>Trowl the bowl, the nut-brown bowl,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i18"><i>To good St. Hugh!</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>The cobbler must stick to his last."</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Which last," said Nash, breaking his rhyme off short,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The crowder, after his kind, would seem to approve.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well—all the waves from that great wreck out there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Break, and are lost in one withdrawing sigh:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">The little lad that used to play<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Around the cobbler's door,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Kit Marlowe, Kit Marlowe,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">We shall not see him more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But—could I tell you how that galleon sank,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could I but bring you to that hollow whirl,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The black gulf in mid-ocean, where that wreck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went thundering down, and round it hell still roars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That were a tale to snap all fiddle-strings."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Tell me," said Chapman.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">"Ah, you wondered why,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Nash, "you wondered why he asked your help<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To crown that work of his. Why, Chapman, think,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think of the cobbler's awl—there's a stout lance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To couch at London, there's a conquering point<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To carry in triumph through Persepolis!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I tell you Kit was nothing but a child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When some rich patron of the <i>Golden Shoe</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beheld him riding into Samarcand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon a broken chair, the which he said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was a white steed, splashed with the blood of kings.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When, on that patron's bounty, he did ride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So far as Cambridge, he was a brave lad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Untamed, adventurous, but still innocent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, innocent as the cobbler's little self!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He brought to London just a bundle and stick,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A slender purse, an Ovid, a few scraps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of song, and all unshielded, all unarmed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A child's heart, packed with splendid hopes and dreams.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I say a child's heart, Chapman, and that phrase<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crowns, not dis-crowns, his manhood.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i32">Well—he turned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An honest penny, taking some small part<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In plays at the <i>Red Bull</i>. And, all the while,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the paint and tinsel of the stage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the greasy cock-pit with its reek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of orange-peel and civet, as all of these<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were but the clay churned by the glorious rush<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his white chariots and his burning steeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, as the clay were a shadow, his great dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like bannered legions on some proud crusade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Empurpling all the deserts of the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept on in triumph to the glittering towers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his abiding City.<br /></span> +<span class="i20">Then—he met<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That damned blood-sucking cockatrice, the pug<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of some fine strutting mummer, one of those plagues<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bred by our stage, a puff-ball on the hill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Helicon. As for his wench—she too<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had played so many parts that she forgot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cue for truth. King Puff had taught her well.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was the vainer and more foolish thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She the more poisonous.<br /></span> +<span class="i26">One dark day, to spite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Archer, her latest paramour, a friend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And apple-squire to Puff, she set her eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Marlowe ... feigned a joy in his young art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmured his songs, used all her London tricks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To coney-catch the country greenhorn. Man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kit never even <i>saw</i> her painted face!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He pored on books by candle-light and saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Everything thro' a mist. O, I could laugh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To think of it, only—his up-turned skull<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, in the dark, now that the flesh drops off,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has laughed enough, a horrible silent laugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To think his Angel of Light was, after all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only the red-lipped Angel of the Plague.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was no better than the rest of us,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No worse. He felt the heat. He felt the cold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took her down to Deptford to escape<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Contagion, and the crashing of sextons' spades<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On dead men's bones in every churchyard round;</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The jangling bell and the cry, <i>Bring out your dead</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there she told him of her luckless life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wedded, deserted, both against her will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A luckless Eve that never knew the snake.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True and half-true she mixed in one wild lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then—she caught him by the hand and wept.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No death-cart passed to warn him with its bell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her eyes, her perfumed hair, and her red mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her warm white breast, her civet-scented skin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swimming before him, in a piteous mist,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made the lad drunk, and—she was in his arms;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all that God had meant to wake one day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the Sun of Love, suddenly woke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By candle-light and cried, 'The Sun; The Sun!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he believed it, Chapman, he believed it!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was a cobbler's son, and he believed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Love! Blind, through that mist, he caught at Love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The everlasting King of all this world.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kit was not clever. Clever men—like Pomp—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might jest. And fools might laugh. But when a man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Simple as all great elemental things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Makes his whole heart a sacrificial fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To one whose love is in her supple skin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There comes a laughter in which jests break up<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like icebergs in a sea of burning marl.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then dreamers turn to murderers in an hour.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then topless towers are burnt, and the Ocean-sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tramples the proud fleet, down, into the dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sweeps over it, laughing. Come and see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heart now of this darkness—no more waves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the black central hollow where that wreck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went down for ever.<br /></span> +<span class="i22">How should Piers Penniless<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brand that wild picture on the world's black heart?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Last night I tried the way of the Florentine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bruised myself; but we are friends together<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mourning a dead friend, none will ever know!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kit, do you smile at poor Piers Penniless,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Measuring it out? Ah, boy, it is my best!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since hearts must beat, let it be <i>terza rima</i>,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A ladder of rhyme that two sad friends alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May let down, thus, to the last circle of hell."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So saying, and motionless as a man in trance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nash breathed the words that raised the veil anew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strange intervolving words which, as he spake them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moved like the huge slow whirlpool of that pit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the wreck sank, the serpentine slow folds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the lewd Kraken that sucked it, shuddering, down:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This is the Deptford Inn. Climb the dark stair.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come, come and see Kit Marlowe lying dead!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, on the table, by that broken chair,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The little phials of paint—the white and red.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A cut-lawn kerchief hangs behind the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left by his punk, even as the tapster said.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is the gold-fringed taffeta gown she wore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, on that wine-stained bed, as is most meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lies alone, never to waken more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, still as chiselled marble, the frayed sheet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Folds the still form on that sepulchral bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hides the dead face, and peaks the rigid feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, come and see Kit Marlowe lying dead!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Draw back the sheet, ah, tenderly lay bare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The splendour of that Apollonian head;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The gloriole of his flame-coloured hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lean athletic body, deftly planned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To carry that swift soul of fire and air;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The long thin flanks, the broad breast, and the grand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heroic shoulders! Look, what lost dreams lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cold in the fingers of that delicate hand;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, shut within those lyric lips, what cry<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of unborn beauty, sunk in utter night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lost worlds of song, sealed in an unknown sky,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Never to be brought forth, clothed on with light.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was this, then, this the secret of his song?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Who ever loved that loved not at first?</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was not Love, not Love, that wrought this wrong;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And yet—what evil shadow of this dark town<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could quench a soul so flame-like clean and strong,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Strike the young glory of his manhood down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dead, like a dog, dead in a drunken brawl,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dead for a phial of paint, a taffeta gown?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What if his blood were hot? High over all<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He heard, as in his song the world still hears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those angels on the burning heavenly wall<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who chant the thunder-music of the spheres.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet—through the glory of his own young dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here did he meet that face, wet with strange tears,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Andromeda, with piteous face astream,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hailing him, Perseus. In her treacherous eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As in dark pools the mirrored stars will gleam,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here did he see his own eternal skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And here—she laughed, nor found the dream amiss;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But bade him pluck and eat—in Paradise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here did she hold him, broken up with bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here, like a supple snake, around him coiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here did she pluck his heart out with a kiss,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here were the wings clipped and the glory soiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here adders coupled in the pure white shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here was the Wine spilt, and the Shew-bread spoiled.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Black was that feast, though he who poured the Wine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dreamed that he poured it in high sacrament.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep in her eyes he saw his own eyes shine,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beheld Love's god-head and was well content.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Subtly her hand struck the pure silver note,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The throbbing chord of passion that God meant<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To swell the bliss of heaven. Round his young throat<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She wound her swarthy tresses; then, with eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half mad to see their power, half mad to gloat,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Half mad to batten on their own devilries,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And mark what heaven-born splendours they could quell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She held him quivering in a mesh of lies,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And in soft broken speech began to tell—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There as, against her heart, throbbing he lay—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The truth that hurled his soul from heaven to hell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quivering, she watched the subtle whip-lash flay<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The white flesh of the dreams of his pure youth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then sucked the blood and left them cold as clay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Luxuriously she lashed him with the truth.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Against his mouth her subtle mouth she set<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To show, as through a mask, O, without ruth,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As through a cold clay mask (brackish and wet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With what strange tears!) it was not his, not his,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The kiss that through his quivering lips she met.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kissing him, "<i>Thus</i>," she whispered, "<i>did he kiss.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ah, is the sweetness like a sword, then, sweet?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Last night—ah, kiss again—aching with bliss,</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Thus was I made his own, from head to feet.</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">—A sudden agony thro' his body swept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tempestuously.—"<i>Our wedded pulses beat</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Like this and this; and then, at dawn, he slept.</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She laughed, pouting her lips against his cheek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To drink; and, as in answer, Marlowe wept.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As a dead man in dreams, he heard her speak.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Clasped in the bitter grave of that sweet clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wedded and one with it, he moaned. Too weak<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Even to lift his head, sobbing, he lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then, slowly, as their breathings rose and fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He felt the storm of passion, far away,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gather. The shuddering waves began to swell.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, through the menace of the thunder-roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thin quick lightnings, thrilling through his hell,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lightnings that hell itself could not control<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Even while she strove to bow his neck anew)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woke the great slumbering legions of his soul.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sharp was that severance of the false and true,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sharp as a sword drawn from a shuddering wound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But they, that were one flesh, were cloven in two.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Flesh leapt from clasping flesh, without a sound.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He plucked his body from her white embrace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cast him down, and grovelled on the ground.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, ere he went, he strove once more to trace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Deep in her eyes, the loveliness he knew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then—spat his hatred into her smiling face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She clung to him. He flung her off. He drew<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His dagger, thumbed the blade, and laughed—"Poor punk!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What? Would you make me your own murderer, too?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"That was the day of our great feast," said Nash,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Aboard the <i>Golden Hynde</i>. The grand old hulk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was drawn up for the citizens' wonderment<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Deptford. Ay, Piers Penniless was there!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soaked and besotted as I was, I saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Everything. On her poop the minstrels played,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And round her sea-worn keel, like meadow-sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curtseying round a lightning-blackened oak,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prentices and their sweethearts, heel and toe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Danced the brave English dances, clean and fresh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As May.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">But in her broad gun-guarded waist<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once red with British blood, long tables groaned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For revellers not so worthy. Where her guns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had raked the seas, barrels of ale were sprung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bestrid by roaring tipplers. Where at night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The storm-beat crew silently bowed their heads<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Drake before the King of Life and Death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A strumpet wrestled with a mountebank<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For pence, a loose-limbed Lais with a clown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Cherry Hilton. Leering at their lewd twists,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cross-legged upon the deck, sluggish with sack,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a squat toad sat Puff ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Propped up against the bulwarks, at his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Archer, his apple-squire, hiccoughed a bawdy song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suddenly, through that orgy, with wild eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet with her customary smile, O, there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw in daylight what Kit Marlowe saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through blinding mists, the face of his first love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She stood before her paramour on the deck,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cocking her painted head to right and left,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her white teeth smiling, but her voice a hiss:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Quickly,' she said to Archer, 'come away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or there'll be blood spilt!'<br /></span> +<span class="i28">'Better blood than wine,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Archer, struggling to his feet, 'but who,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who would spill blood?'<br /></span> +<span class="i24">'Marlowe!' she said.<br /></span> +<span class="i44">Then Puff<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reeled to his feet. 'What, Kit, the cobbler's son?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lad that broke his leg at the <i>Red Bull</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tamburlaine-Marlowe, he that would chain kings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To's chariot-wheel? What, is he rushing hither?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He would spill blood for Gloriana, hey?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, my Belphœbe, you will crack my sides!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was this the wench that shipped a thousand squires?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, ho! But here he comes. Now, solemnly, lads,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Now walk the angels on the walls of heaven</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>To entertain divine Zenocrate!</i>'</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there stood Kit, high on the storm-scarred poop,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the sky, bare-headed. I saw his face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale, innocent, just the dear face of that boy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who walked to Cambridge with a bundle and stick,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The little cobbler's son. Yet—there I caught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My only glimpse of how the sun-god looked,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And only for one moment.<br /></span> +<span class="i30">When he saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His mistress, his face whitened, and he shook.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down to the deck he came, a poor weak man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet—by God—the only man that day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all our drunken crew.<br /></span> +<span class="i30">'Come along, Kit,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cried Puff, 'we'll all be friends now, all take hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dance—ha! ha!—the shaking of the sheets!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Archer, shuffling a step, raised his cracked voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Kit's own song to a falsetto tune,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snapping one hand, thus, over his head as he danced:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">'<i>Come, live with me, and be my love,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>And we will all the pleasures prove!</i>' ...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Puff reeled between, laughing. 'Damn you,' cried Kit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, catching the fat swine by his round soft throat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hurled him headlong, crashing across the tables,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lie and groan in the red bilge of wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That washed the scuppers.<br /></span> +<span class="i26">Kit gave him not one glance.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Archer,' he said in a whisper.<br /></span> +<span class="i32">Instantly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A long thin rapier flashed in Archer's hand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ship was one wild uproar. Women screamed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And huddled together. A drunken clamorous ring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seethed around Marlowe and his enemy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kit drew his dagger, slowly, and I knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blood would be spilt.<br /></span> +<span class="i22">'Here, take my rapier, Kit!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cried across the crowd, seeing the lad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was armed so slightly. But he did not hear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I could not reach him.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i24">All at once he leapt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a wounded tiger, past the rapier point<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Straight at his enemy's throat. I saw his hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up-raised to strike! I heard a harlot's scream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, in mid-air, the hand stayed, quivering, white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A frozen menace.<br /></span> +<span class="i18">I saw a yellow claw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twisting the dagger out of that frozen hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw his own steel in that yellow grip,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His own lost lightning raised to strike at him!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw it flash! I heard the driving grunt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of him that struck! Then, with a shout, the crowd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sundered, and through the gap, a blank red thing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Streaming with blood came the blind face of Kit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reeling, to me! And I, poor drunken I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Held my arms wide for him. Here, on my breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With one great sob, he burst his heart and died."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nash ceased. And, far away down Friday Street,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crowder with his fiddler wailed again:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"<i>Blaspheming Tambolin must die</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>And Faustus meet his end.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Repent, repent, or presentlie</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>To hell ye must descend.</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, as in answer, Chapman slowly breathed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those mightiest lines of Marlowe's own despair:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"<i>Think'st thou that I who saw the face of God,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And tasted the eternal joys of heaven,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Am not tormented with ten thousand hells?"</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ah, you have said it," said Nash, "and there you know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why Kit desired your hand to crown his work.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He reverenced you as one whose temperate eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Austere and grave, could look him through and through;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One whose firm hand could grasp the reins of law<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And guide those furious horses of the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Ben and Will can guide them, where you will.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His were, perchance, the noblest steeds of all,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from their nostrils blew a fierier dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above the world. That glory is his own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But where he fell, he fell. Before his hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had learned to quell them, he was dashed to the earth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis yours to show that good men honoured him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, mark this, Chapman, since Kit Marlowe fell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There will be fools that, in the name of Art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will wallow in the mire, crying 'I fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fall from heaven!'—fools that have only heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From earth, the rumour of those golden hooves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far, far above them. Yes, you know the kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fools that scorn Will for his lack of fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because he quells the storms they never knew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rides above the thunder; fools of Art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That skip and vex, like little vicious fleas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their only Helicon, some green madam's breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Art! Art! O, God, that I could send my soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In one last wave, from that night-hidden wreck,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the shores of all the years to be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, God, that like a crowder I might shake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their blind dark casements with the pity of it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Piers Penniless his ballad, a poor scrap,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That but for lack of time, and hope and pence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He might have bettered! For a dead man's sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus would the wave break, thus the crowder cry:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Dead, like a dog upon the road;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Dead, for a harlot's kiss;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Apollonian throat and brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lyric lips, so silent now,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The flaming wings that heaven bestowed<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For loftier airs than this!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">The sun-like eyes whose light and life<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Had gazed an angel's down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That burning heart of honey and fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quenched and dead for an apple-squire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quenched at the thrust of a mummer's knife,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Dead—for a taffeta gown!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">The wine that God had set apart,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The noblest wine of all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wine of the grapes that angels trod,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The vintage of the glory of God,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The crimson wine of that rich heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Spilt in a drunken brawl,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Poured out to make a steaming bath<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That night in the Devil's Inn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A steaming bath of living wine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Poured out for Circe and her swine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A bath of blood for a harlot<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To supple and sleek her skin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And many a fool that finds it sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Through all the years to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Crowning a lie with Marlowe's fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will ape the sin, will ape the shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will ape our captain in defeat;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But—not in victory;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Till Art become a leaping-house,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And Death be crowned as Life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And one wild jest outshine the soul<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of Truth ... O, fool, is this your goal?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You are not our Kit Marlowe,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But the drunkard with the knife;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Not Marlowe, but the Jack-o'-Lent<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That lured him o'er the fen!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O, ay, the tavern is in its place,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the punk's painted smiling face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But where is our Kit Marlowe<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The man, the king of men?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Passion? You kiss the painted mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The hand that clipped his wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The hand that into his heart she thrust<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tuned him to her whimpering lust,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And played upon his quivering youth<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As a crowder plucks the strings.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">But he who dared the thunder-roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Whose eagle-wings could soar,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Buffeting down the clouds of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To beat against the Light of Light,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That great God-blinded eagle-soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We shall not see him, more."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<h4>THE COMPANION OF A MILE</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Thwack</span>! <i>Thwack</i>! One early dawn upon our door<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard the bladder of some motley fool<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bouncing, and all the dusk of London shook<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With bells! I leapt from bed,—had I forgotten?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I flung my casement wide and craned my neck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the painted Mermaid. There he stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His right leg yellow and his left leg blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With jingling cap, a sheep-bell at his tail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wielding his eel-skin bladder,—<i>bang! thwack! bang!</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Catching a comrade's head with the recoil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And skipping away! All Bread Street dimly burned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a reflected sky, green, red and white<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With littered branches, ferns and hawthorn-clouds;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, round Sir Fool, a frolic morrice-troop<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of players, poets, prentices, mad-cap queans,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robins and Marians, coloured like the dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sparkling like the greenwood whence they came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With their fresh boughs all dewy from the dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clamoured, <i>Come down! Come down, and let us in!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">High over these, I suddenly saw Sir Fool<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leap to a sign-board, swing to a conduit-head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And perch there, gorgeous on the morning sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tossing his crimson cockscomb to the blue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And crowing like Chanticleer, <i>Give them a rouse!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Tickle it, tabourer! Nimbly, lasses, nimbly!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Tuck up your russet petticoats and dance!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Let the Cheape know it is the first of May!</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as I seized shirt, doublet and trunk-hose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw the hobby-horse come cantering down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pasteboard steed, dappled a rosy white<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like peach-bloom, bridled with purple, bitted with gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A crimson foot-cloth on his royal flanks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, riding him, His Majesty of the May!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round him the whole crowd frolicked with a shout,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as I stumbled down the crooked stair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard them break into a dance and sing:—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h4>SONG</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Into the woods we'll trip and go,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Up and down and to and fro,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Under the moon to fetch in May,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And two by two till break of day,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">A-maying,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">A-playing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For Love knows no gain-saying!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wisdom trips not? Even so—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come, young lovers, trip and go,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Trip and go.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Out of the woods we'll dance and sing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Under the morning-star of Spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into the town with our fresh boughs<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And knock at every sleeping house,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Not sighing,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Or crying,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though Love knows no denying!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then, round your summer queen and king,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come, young lovers, dance and sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Dance and sing!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Chorus</i>," the great Fool tossed his gorgeous crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lustily crew against the deepening dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>Chorus</i>," till all the Cheape caught the refrain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with a double thunder of frolic feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its ancient nut-brown tabors woke the Strand:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">A-maying,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A-playing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Love knows no gain-saying!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wisdom trips not? Even so,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, young lovers, trip and go,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Trip and go.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Into the Mermaid with a shout they rushed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I shot back the bolts, and <i>bang, thwack, bang,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bladder bounced about me. What cared I?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This was all England's holy-day! "Come in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My yellow-hammers," roared the Friar Tuck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this mad morrice, "come you into church,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My nightingales, my scraps of Lincoln green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hear my sermon!" On a window-seat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He stood, against the diamonded rich panes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the old oak parlour and, throwing back his hood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who should it be but Ben, rare Ben himself?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wild troup laughed around him, some a-sprawl<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On tables, kicking parti-coloured heels,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some with their Marians jigging on their knees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, in the front of all, the motley fool<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cross-legged upon the rushes.<br /></span> +<span class="i30">O, I knew him,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will Kemp, the player, who danced from London town<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Norwich in nine days and was proclaimed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Freeman of Marchaunt Venturers and hedge-king<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of English morrice-dancery for ever!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His nine-days' wonder, through the countryside<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was hawked by every ballad-monger. Kemp<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raged at their shake-rag Muses. None but I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guessed ever for what reason, since he chose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His anticks for himself and, in his games,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was more than most May-fools fantastical.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I watched his thin face, as he rocked and crooned,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shaking the squirrels' tails around his ears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, out of all the players I had seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His face was quickest through its clay to flash<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The passing mood. Though not a muscle stirred,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very skin of it seemed to flicker and gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With little summer lightnings of the soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At every fleeting fancy. For a man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So quick to bleed at a pin-prick or to leap<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laughing through hell to save a butterfly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This world was difficult; and perchance he found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his fantastic games that open road<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which even Will Shakespeare only found at last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In motley and with some wild straws in his hair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But "Drawer! drawer!" bellowed Friar Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Make ready a righteous breakfast while I preach;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tankards of nut-brown ale, and cold roast beef,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cracknels, old cheese, flaunes, tarts and clotted cream.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath any a wish not circumscribed by these?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A white-pot custard, for my white-pot queen,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cried Kemp, waving his bauble, "mark this, boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A white-pot custard for my queen of May,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She is not here, but that concerns not thee!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A white-pot Mermaid custard, with a crust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lashings of cream, eggs, apple-pulse and spice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little sugar and manchet bread. Away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be swift!"<br /></span> +<span class="i16">And as I bustled to and fro,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Friar raised his big brown fists again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And preached in mockery of the Puritans<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who thought to strip the moonshine wings from Mab,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tear down the May-poles, rout our English games,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drive all beauty back into the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then laughter and chatter and clashing tankards drowned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All but their May-day jollity a-while.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, as their breakfast ended, and I sank<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gasping upon a bench, there came still more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poets and players crowding into the room;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one—I only knew him as Sir John</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waved a great ballad at Will Kemp and laughed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Atonement, Will, atonement!"<br /></span> +<span class="i24">"What," groaned Kemp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Another penny poet? How many lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Does <i>this</i> rogue tell? Sir, I have suffered much<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From these Melpomenes and strawberry quills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And think them better at their bloody lines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On <i>The Blue Lady</i>. Sir, they set to work<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At seven o'clock in the morning, the same hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I, myself, that's <i>Cavaliero</i> Kemp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With heels of feather and heart of cork, began<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frolickly footing, from the great Lord Mayor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of London, tow'rds the worshipful Master Mayor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Norwich."<br /></span> +<span class="i16">"Nay, Kemp, this is a May-day tune,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A morrice of country rhymes, made by a poet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who thought it shame so worthy an act as thine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should wither in oblivion if the Muse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With her Castalian showers could keep it green.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while the fool nid-nodded all in time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir John, in swinging measure, trolled this tale:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With Georgie Sprat, my overseer, and Thomas Slye, my tabourer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And William Bee, my courier, when dawn emblazed the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I met a tall young butcher as I danced by little Sudbury,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Head-master o' morrice-dancers all, high headborough of hyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By Sudbury, by Sudbury, by little red-roofed Sudbury,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He wished to dance a mile with me! I made a courtly bow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fitted him with morrice-bells, with treble, bass and tenor bells,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And "<i>Tickle your tabor, Tom</i>," I cried, "<i>we're going to market now</i>."</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And rollicking down the lanes we dashed, and frolicking up the hills we clashed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And like a sail behind me flapped his great white frock a-while,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till, with a gasp, he sank and swore that he could dance with me no more;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And—over the hedge a milk-maid laughed, <i>Not dance with him a mile</i>?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You lout!" she laughed, "I'll leave my pail, and dance with him for cakes and ale!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll dance a mile for love," she laughed, "and win my wager, too.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your feet are shod and mine are bare; but when could leather dance on air?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A milk-maid's feet can fall as fair and light as falling dew."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I fitted her with morrice-bells, with treble, bass and tenor bells:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fore-bells, as I linked them at her throat, how soft they sang!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green linnets in a golden nest, they chirped and trembled on her breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, faint as elfin blue-bells, at her nut-brown ankles rang.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I fitted her with morrice-bells that sweetened into woodbine bells,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And trembled as I hung them there and crowned her sunny brow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Strike up," she laughed, "my summer king!" And all her bells began to ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And "<i>Tickle your tabor, Tom</i>," I cried, "<i>we're going to Sherwood now</i>!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When cocks were crowing, and light was growing, and horns were blowing, and milk-pails<br /></span> +<span class="i0">flowing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We swam thro' waves of emerald gloom along a chestnut aisle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, up a shining hawthorn-lane, we sailed into the sun again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will Kemp and his companion, his companion of a mile.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Truer than most," snarled Kemp, "but mostly lies!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And why does he forget the miry lanes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Brainford with thick woods on either side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the deep holes, where I could find no ease<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But skipped up to my waist?" A crackling laugh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broke from his lips which, if he had not worn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cap and bells, would scarce have roused the mirth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of good Sir John, who roundly echoed it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then waved his hand and said, "Nay, but he treats<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your morrice in the spirit of Lucian, Will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who thought that dancing was no mushroom growth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sprung from the beginning of the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Love persuaded earth, air, water, fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the jarring elements to move<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In measure. Right to the heart of it, my lad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The song goes, though the skin mislike you so."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay, an there's more of it, I'll sing it, too!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis a fine tale, Sir John, I have it by heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Although 'tis lies throughout." Up leapt Will Kemp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And crouched and swayed, and swung his bauble round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Making the measure as they trolled the tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chanting alternately, each answering each.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Fool</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The tabor fainted far behind us, but her feet that day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They beat a rosier morrice o'er the fairy-circled green.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Sir John</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And o'er a field of buttercups, a field of lambs and buttercups,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We danced along a cloth of gold, a summer king and queen!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Fool</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And straying we went, and swaying we went, with lambkins round us playing we went;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her face uplift to drink the sun, and not for me her smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We danced, a king and queen of May, upon a fleeting holy-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But O, she'd won her wager, my companion of a mile!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Sir John</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her rosy lips they never spoke, though every rosy foot-fall broke<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The dust, the dust to Eden-bloom; and, past the throbbing blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All ordered to her rhythmic feet, the stars were dancing with my sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all the world a morrice-dance!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Fool</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i36">She knew not; but I knew!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love like Amphion with his lyre, made all the elements conspire<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To build His world of music. All in rhythmic rank and file,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw them in their cosmic dance, catch hands across, retire, advance,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For me and my companion, my companion of a mile!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Sir John</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The little leaves on every tree, the rivers winding to the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The swinging tides, the wheeling winds, the rolling heavens above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around the May-pole Igdrasil, they worked the Morrice-master's will,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Persuaded into measure by the all-creative Love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That hour I saw, from depth to height, this wildering universe unite!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lambs of God around us and His passion in every flower!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Fool</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His grandeur in the dust, His dust a blaze of blinding majesty,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all His immortality in one poor mortal hour.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And Death was but a change of key in Life the golden melody,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Time became Eternity, and Heaven a fleeting smile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all was each and each was all, and all a wedded unity,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her heart in mine, and mine in my companion of a mile.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Thwack</i>! <i>Thwack</i>! He whirled his bauble round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"This fellow beats them all," he cried, "the worst<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those others wrote was that I hopped from York<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Paris with a mortar on my head.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This fellow sends me leaping through the clouds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To buss the moon! The best is yet to come;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strike up, Sir John! Ha! ha! You know no more?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kemp leapt upon a table. "Clear the way",<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He cried, and with a great stamp of his foot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a wild crackling laugh, drew all to hark,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">"With hey and ho, through thick and thin,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">The hobby-horse is forgotten,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">But I must finish what I begin,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Tho' all the roads be rotten.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"By all those twenty thousand chariots, Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear this true tale they shall! Now, let me see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where was Will Kemp? Bussing the moon's pale mouth?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, yes!" He crouched above the listening throng,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>Good as a play</i>," I heard one whispering quean,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, waving his bauble, shuffling with his feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a dance that marked the time, he sank his voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if to breathe great secrets, and so sang:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At Melford town, at Melford town, at little grey-roofed Melford town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A long mile from Sudbury, upon the village green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We danced into a merry rout of country-folk that skipt about<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A hobby-horse, a May-pole, and a laughing white-pot queen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They thronged about us as we stayed, and there I gave my sunshine maid<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An English crown for cakes and ale—her dancing was so true!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And "Nay," she said, "I danced my mile for love!" I answered with a smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"'Tis but a silver token, lass, 'thou'st won that wager, too."</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I took my leash of morrice-bells, my treble, bass and tenor bells,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They pealed like distant marriage-bells! And up came William Bee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Georgie Sprat, my overseer, and Thomas Slye, my tabourer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Farewell," she laughed, and vanished with a Suffolk courtesie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I leapt away to Rockland, and from Rockland on to Hingham,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From Hingham on to Norwich, sirs! I hardly heard a-while<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The throngs that followed after, with their shouting and their laughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a shadow danced beside me, my companion of a mile!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At Norwich, by St. Giles his gate, I entered, and the Mayor in state,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With all the rosy knights and squires for twenty miles about,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With trumpets and with minstrelsy, was waiting there to welcome me;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, as I skipt into the street, the City raised a shout.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They gave me what I did not seek. I fed on roasted swans a week!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They pledged me in their malmsey, and they lined me warm with ale!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They sleeked my skin with red-deer pies, and all that runs and swims and flies;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But, through the clashing wine-cups, O, I heard her clanking pail.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, rising from his crimson chair, the worshipful and portly Mayor<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bequeathed me forty shillings every year that I should live,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With five good angels in my hand that I might drink while I could stand!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They gave me golden angels! What I lacked they could not give.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They made Will Kemp, thenceforward, sirs, Freeman of Marchaunt Venturers!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They hoped that I would dance again from Norwich up to York;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then they asked me, all together, had I met with right May weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they praised my heels of feather, and my heart, my heart of cork.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As I came home by Sudbury, by little red-roofed Sudbury,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I waited for my bare-foot maid, among her satin kine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard a peal of wedding-bells, of treble, bass and tenor bells:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Ring well," I cried, "this bridal morn! You soon shall ring for mine!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I found her foot-prints in the grass, just where she stood and saw me pass.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I stood within her own sweet field and waited for my may.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I laughed. The dance has turned about! I stand within: she'll pass without,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And—<i>down the road the wedding came, the road I danced that day</i>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>I saw the wedding-folk go by, with laughter and with minstrelsy,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>I gazed across her own sweet hedge, I caught her happy smile,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I saw the tall young butcher pass to little red-roofed Sudbury,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>His bride upon his arm, my lost companion of a mile.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Down from his table leapt the motley Fool.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His bladder bounced from head to ducking head,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His crackling laugh rang high,—"Sir John, I danced<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In February, and the song says May!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A fig for all your poets, liars all!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Away to Fenchurch Street, lasses and lads,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They hold high revel there this May-day morn.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Away!" The mad-cap throng echoed the cry.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">He drove them with his bauble through the door;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Then, as the last gay kerchief fluttered out<br /></span> +<span class="i4">He gave one little sharp sad lingering cry<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As of a lute-string breaking. He turned back</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And threw himself along a low dark bench;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His jingling cap was crumpled in his fist,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as he lay there, all along Cheapside<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The happy voices of his comrades rang:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Out of the woods we'll dance and sing<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Under the morning-star of Spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Into the town with our fresh boughs<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And knock at every sleeping house,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Not sighing,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Or crying,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Though Love knows no denying!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Then, round your summer queen and king,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Come, young lovers, dance and sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Dance and sing!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His motley shoulders heaved. I touched his arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What ails you, sir?" He raised his thin white face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wet with the May-dew still. A few stray petals<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clung in his tangled hair. He leapt to his feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"'Twas February, but I danced, boy, danced<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In May! Can you do this?" Forward he bent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over his feet, and shuffled it, heel and toe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the Mermaid, singing his old song—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">A-maying,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">A-playing,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">For Love knows no gain-saying!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wisdom trips not? Even so,—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Come, young lovers, trip and go,<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Trip and go.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Five minutes later, over the roaring Strand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>Chorus!</i>" I heard him crow, and half the town<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reeled into music under his crimson comb.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<h4>BIG BEN</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gods, what a hubbub shook our cobwebs out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The day that Chapman, Marston and our Ben<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waited in Newgate for the hangman's hands.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Chapman and Marston had been flung there first<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For some imagined insult to the Scots<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In <i>Eastward Ho</i>, the play they wrote with Ben.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Ben was famous now, and our brave law<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would fain have winked and passed the big man by.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lesser men had straightway been condemned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To have their ears cut off, their noses slit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With other tortures.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Ben had risen at that!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gripped his cudgel, called for a quart of ale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then like Helvellyn with his rocky face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mountain-belly, he surged along Cheapside,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snorting with wrath, and rolled into the gaol,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To share the punishment.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">"There is my mark!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis not the first time you have branded me,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said our big Ben, and thrust his broad left thumb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Branded with T for Tyburn, into the face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of every protest. "That's the mark you gave me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because I killed my man in Spitalfields,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A duel honest as any your courtiers fight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I was no Fitzdotterel, bore no gules<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And azure, robbed no silk-worms for my hose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was Ben Jonson, out of Annandale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bricklayer in common to the good Lord God.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You branded me. I am Ben Jonson still.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You cannot rub it out."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">The Mermaid Inn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Buzzed like a hornet's nest, upon the day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fixed for their mutilation. And the stings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were ready, too; for rapiers flashed and clashed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the tankards. Dekker was there, and Nash,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brome (Jonson's body-servant, whom he taught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His art of verse and, more than that, to love him,)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And half a dozen more. They planned to meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The prisoners going to Tyburn, and attempt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A desperate rescue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">All at once we heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A great gay song come marching down the street,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A single voice, and twenty marching men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then the full chorus, twenty voices strong:—</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The prentice whistles at break of day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All under fair roofs and towers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the old Cheape openeth every way<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her little sweet inns like flowers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he sings like a lark, both early and late,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To think, if his house take fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the good <i>Green Dragon</i> in Bishopsgate<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He may drink to his heart's desire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Or sit at his ease in the old <i>Cross Keys</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drink to his heart's desire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But I, as I walk by <i>Red Rose Lane</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tho' it warmeth my heart to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The Swan</i>, <i>The Golden Hynde</i>, and <i>The Crane</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the door set wide for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' Signs like daffodils paint the strand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When the thirsty bees begin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all the good taverns in Engeland<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My choice is—<i>The Mermaid Inn</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> There is much to be said for <i>The Saracen's Head</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But my choice is <i>The Mermaid Inn</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Into the tavern they rushed, these roaring boys.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now broach your ripest and your best," they cried.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"All's well! They are all released! They are on the way!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Camden and young Selden worked the trick.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is Dame Dimpling? Where's our jolly hostess?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell her the Mermaid Tavern will have guests:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We are sent to warn her. She must raid Cook's Row,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make their ovens roar. Nobody dines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This day with old Duke Humphrey. Red-deer pies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Castles of almond crust, a shield of brawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Big as the nether millstone, barrels of wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three roasted peacocks! Ben is on the way!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then all the rafters rang with song again:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">There was a Prince—long since, long since!—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">To East Cheape did resort,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">For that he loved <i>The Blue Boar's Head</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8">Far better than Crown or Court;</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">But old King Harry in Westminster<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Hung up, for all to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Three bells of power in St. Stephen's Tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Yea, bells of a thousand and three,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> Three bells of power in a timber tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thirty thousand and three,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">For Harry the Fourth was a godly king<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And loved great godly bells!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">He bade them ring and he bade them swing<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Till a man might hear nought else.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">In every tavern it soured the sack<br /></span> +<span class="i8">With discord and with din;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">But they drowned it all in a madrigal<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Like this, at <i>The Mermaid Inn</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> They drowned it all in a madrigal<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Like this, at <i>The Mermaid Inn.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"But how did Selden work it?"—"Nobody knows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They will be here anon. Better ask Will.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's the magician!"—"Ah, here comes Dame Dimpling!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, into the rollicking chaos our good Dame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—A Dame of only two and thirty springs—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All lavender and roses and white kerchief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bustled, to lay the tables.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Fletcher flung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His arm around her waist and kissed her cheek.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But all she said was, "<i>One—two—three—four—five—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Six at a pinch, in yonder window-seat.</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A health to our Dame Dimpling," Beaumont cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Dekker, leaping on the old black settle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Led all their tumult into a song again:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What is the Mermaid's merriest toast?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our hostess—good Dame Dimpling!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who is it rules the Mermaid roast?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who is it bangs the Mermaid host,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' her hands be soft as her heart almost?<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Dame Dimpling!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She stands at the board in her fresh blue gown<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the sleeves tucked up—Dame Dimpling!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She rolls the white dough up and down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her pies are crisp, and her eyes are brown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So—she is the Queen of all this town,—<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Dame Dimpling!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her sheets are white as black-thorn bloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">White as her neck, Dame Dimpling!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her lavender sprigs in the London gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make every little bridal-room<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A country nook of fresh perfume,—<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Dame Dimpling!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She wears white lace on her dark brown hair:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a rose on her breast, Dame Dimpling!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And who can show you a foot as fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or an ankle as neat when she climbs the stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taper in hand, and head in the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a rose in her cheek?—O, past compare,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Dame Dimpling!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But don't forget those oyster-pies," cried Lyly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nor the roast beef," roared Dekker. "Prove yourself<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Muse of meat and drink."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">There was a shout<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Bread Street, and our windows all swung wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Six heads at each.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">Nat Field bestrode our sign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kissed the painted Mermaid on her lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then waved his tankard.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">"Here they come," he cried.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Camden and Selden, Chapman and Marston, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And half Will's company with our big Ben<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Riding upon their shoulders."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">"Look!" cried Dekker,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But where is Atlas now? O, let them have it!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thumping chorus, lads! Let the roof crack!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the Mermaid clashed and banged again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thunderous measure to the marching tune<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That rolled down Bread Street, forty voices strong:—</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">At <i>Ypres Inn</i>, by <i>Wring-wren Lane</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Old John of Gaunt would dine:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">He scarce had opened an oyster or twain,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Or drunk one flagon of wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">When, all along the Vintry Ward,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">He heard the trumpets blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And a voice that roared—"If thou love thy lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Tell John of Gaunt to go!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> A great voice roared—"If thou love thy lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Tell John of Gaunt to go!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Then into the room rushed Haviland<br /></span> +<span class="i8">That fair fat Flemish host,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"They are marching hither with sword and brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Ten thousand men—almost!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">It is these oysters or thy sweet life,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Thy blood or the best of the bin!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"Proud Pump, avaunt!" quoth John of Gaunt,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"I will dine at <i>The Mermaid Inn!</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> "Proud Pump, avaunt!" quoth John of Gaunt,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"There is wine at <i>The Mermaid Inn!</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And in came Ben like a great galleon poised<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High on the white crest of a shouting wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then the feast began. The fragrant steam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As from the kitchens of Olympus drew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A throng of ragged urchins to our doors.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben ordered them a castellated pie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That rolled a cloud around them where they sat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Munching upon the cobblestones. Our casements<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dripped with the golden dews of Helicon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, under the warm feast our cellarage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gurgled and foamed in the delicious cool<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With crimson freshets—<br /></span> +<span class="i24">"Tell us," cried Nat Field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When pipes began to puff. "How did you work it?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Camden chuckled and tugged his long white beard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Out of the mouth of babes," he said and shook<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His head at Selden! "O, young man, young man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's a career before you! Selden did it.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take my advice, my children. Make young Selden<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Solicitor-general to the Mermaid Inn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That rosy silken smile of his conceals<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A scholar! Yes, that suckling lawyer there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Puts my grey beard to shame. His courteous airs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And silken manners hide the nimblest wit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ever trimmed a sail to catch the wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of courtly favour. Mark my words now, Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That youth will sail right up against the wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By skilful tacking. But you run it fine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Selden, you run it fine. Take my advice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And don't be too ironical, my boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or even the King will see it."<br /></span> +<span class="i32">He chuckled again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But tell them of your tractate!"<br /></span> +<span class="i34">"Here it is,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quoth Selden, twisting a lighted paper spill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, with his round cherubic face aglow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lit his long silver pipe,<br /></span> +<span class="i26">"Why, first," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Camden being Clarencieux King-at-arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He read the King this little tract I wrote<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against tobacco." And the Mermaid roared<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With laughter. "Well, you went the way to hang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All three of them," cried Lyly, "and, as for Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Trinidado goes to bed with him."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Green gosling, quack no more," Selden replied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiling that rosy silken smile anew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The King's a <i>critic</i>! When have critics known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The poet from his creatures, God from me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How many cite Polonius to their sons<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And call it Shakespeare? Well, I took my text<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From sundry creatures of our great big Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And called it 'Jonson.'<br /></span> +<span class="i24">Camden read it out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without the flicker of an eye. His beard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saved us, I think. The King admired his text.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'<i>There is a man</i>,' he read, '<i>lies at death's door</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Thro' taking of tobacco. Yesterday</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>He voided a bushel of soot</i>.'</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i30">'God bless my soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bushel of soot! Think of it!' said the King.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'The man who wrote those great and splendid words,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Camden replied,—I had prepared his case<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Carefully—'lies in Newgate prison, sire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His nose and ears await the hangman's knife.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Ah,' said the shrewd King, goggling his great eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cannily. 'Did he not defame the Scots?'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'That's true,' said Camden, like a man that hears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truth for the first time. 'O ay, he defamed 'em,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King said, very wisely, once again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Ah, but,' says Camden, like a man that strives<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With more than mortal wit, 'only such Scots<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As flout your majesty, and take tobacco.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is a Scot, himself, and hath the gift<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of preaching.' Then we gave him Jonson's lines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against Virginia. '<i>Neither do thou lust</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>After that tawny weed; for who can tell,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Before the gathering and the making up,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>What alligarta may have spawned thereon,'</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or words to that effect.<br /></span> +<span class="i26">'Magneeficent!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spluttered the King—'who knows? Who knows, indeed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That's a grand touch, that Alligarta, Camden!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'The Scot who wrote those great and splendid words,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Camden, 'languishes in Newgate, sire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His ears and nose—'<br /></span> +<span class="i22">And there, as we arranged<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Inigo Jones, the ladies of the court<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Assailed the King in tears. Their masque and ball<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would all be ruined. All their Grecian robes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Procured at vast expense, were wasted now.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The masque was not half-written. Master Jones<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had lost his poets. They were all in gaol.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their noses and their ears ...<br /></span> +<span class="i32">'God bless my soul,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spluttered the King, goggling his eyes again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'What d'you make of it, Camden?'—</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i36">'I should say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Puritan plot, sire; for these justices—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who love tobacco—use their law, it seems,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To flout your Majesty at every turn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If this continue, sire, there'll not be left<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A loyal ear or nose in all your realm.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At that, our noble monarch well-nigh swooned.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hunched his body, padded as it was<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the assassin's knife, six inches deep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With great green quilts, wagged his enormous head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, in a dozen words, he wooed destruction:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'It is presumption and a high contempt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In subjects to dispute what kings can do,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He whimpered. 'Even as it is blasphemy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thwart the will of God.'<br /></span> +<span class="i28">He waved his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rose. 'These men must be released, at once!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, as I think, to seek a safer place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He waddled from the room, his rickety legs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubling beneath that great green feather-bed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He calls his 'person.'—I shall dream to-night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of spiders, Camden.—But in half an hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inigo Jones was armed with Right Divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To save such ears and noses as the ball<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Required for its perfection. Think of that!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let this earthly ball remember, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Chapman, Marston, and our great big Ben<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Owe their poor adjuncts to—ten Grecian robes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And 'Jonson' on tobacco! England loves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her poets, O, supremely, when they're dead."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But Ben has narrowly escaped her love,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Chapman gravely.<br /></span> +<span class="i22">"What do you mean?" said Lodge.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as he spoke, there was a sudden hush.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A tall gaunt woman with great burning eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And white hair blown back softly from a face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ethereally fierce, as might have looked<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cassandra in old age, stood at the door.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Where is my Ben?" she said.<br /></span> +<span class="i30">"Mother!" cried Ben.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He rose and caught her in his mighty arms.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her labour-reddened, long-boned hands entwined<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind his neck.<br /></span> +<span class="i18">"She brought this to the gaol,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Chapman quietly, tossing a phial across<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Camden. "And he meant to take it, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the hangman touched him. Half an hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you'd have been too late to save big Ben.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He has lived too much in ancient Rome to love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A slit nose and the pillory. He'd have wrapped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His purple round him like an emperor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I think she had another for herself."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"There's Roman blood in both of them," said Dekker,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Don't look. She is weeping now," And, while Ben held<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That gaunt old body sobbing against his heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dekker, to make her think they paid no heed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Began to sing; and very softly now.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full forty voices echoed the refrain:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6"><i>The Cardinal's Hat</i> is a very good inn,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And so is <i>The Puritan's Head</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">But I know a sign of a Wine, a Wine<br /></span> +<span class="i8">That is better when all is said.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">It is whiter than Venus, redder than Mars,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">It was old when the world begun;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">For all good inns are moons or stars<br /></span> +<span class="i8">But <i>The Mermaid</i> is their Sun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> They are all alight like moons in the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">But <i>The Mermaid</i> is their Sun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Therefore, when priest or parson cries<br /></span> +<span class="i8">That inns like flowers increase,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I say that mine inn is a church likewise,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And I say to them "Be at peace!"<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An host may gather in dark St. Paul's<br /></span> +<span class="i8">To salve their souls from sin;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">But the Light may be where "two or three"<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Drink Wine in <i>The Mermaid Inn</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i> The Light may be where "two or three"<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Drink Wine in <i>The Mermaid Inn</i>.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3>VII</h3> + +<h4>THE BURIAL OF A QUEEN</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas on an All Souls' Eve that our good Inn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Whereof, for ten years now, myself was host—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heard and took part in its most eerie tale.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was a bitter night, and master Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—His hair now flecked with grey, though youth still fired<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His deep and ageless eyes,—in the old oak-chair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the roaring hearth, puffed at his pipe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little sad, as often I found him now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remembering vanished faces. Yet the years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brought others round him. Wreaths of Heliochrise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleamed still in that great tribe of Benjamin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burned still across the malmsey and muscadel.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chapman and Browne, Herrick,—a name like thyme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crushed into sweetness by a bare-foot maid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Milking, at dewy dawn, in Elfin-land,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These three came late, and sat in a little room<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aside, supping together, on one great pie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereof both crust and coffin were prepared<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By master Herrick's receipt, and all washed down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With mighty cups of sack. This left with Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">John Ford, wrapped in his cloak, brooding aloof,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drayton and Lodge and Drummond of Hawthornden.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Suddenly, in the porch, I heard a sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of iron that grated on the flags. A spade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pick came edging through the door.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i40">"O, room!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Room for the master-craftsman," muttered Ford,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grey old sexton Scarlet hobbled in.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He shuffled off the snow that clogged his boots,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—On my clean rushes!—brushed it from his cloak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Northern Russet, wiped his rheumatic knees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blew out his lanthorn, hung it on a nail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaned his rude pick and spade against the wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flung back his rough frieze hood, flapped his gaunt arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And called for ale.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">"Come to the fire," said Lodge.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Room for the wisest counsellor of kings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The kindly sage that puts us all to bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tucks us up beneath the grass-green quilt."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Plenty of work, eh Timothy?" said Ben.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Work? Where's my liquor? O, ay, there's work to spare,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Scarlet croaked, then quaffed his creaming stoup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Ben said softly—"Pity you could not spare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You and your Scythe-man, some of the golden lads<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I have seen here in the Mermaid Inn!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, with a quiet smile he shook his head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And turned to master Drummond of Hawthornden.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Well, songs are good; but flesh and blood are better.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grey old tomb of Horace glows for me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the centuries, with one little fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lit by a girl's light hand." Then, under breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet with some passion, he murmured this brief rhyme:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Dulce ridentem</i>, laughing through the ages,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Dulce loquentem</i>, O, fairer far to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rarer than the wisdom of all his golden pages<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Floats the happy laughter of his vanished Lalage.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Dulce loquentem</i>,—we hear it and we know it.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Dulce ridentem</i>,—so musical and low.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Mightier than marble is my song!" Ah, did the poet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Know why little Lalage was mightier even so?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Dulce ridentem</i>,—through all the years that sever,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Clear as o'er yon hawthorn hedge we heard her passing by,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Lalagen amabo</i>,—a song may live for ever<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Dulce loquentem</i>,—but Lalage must die.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'd like to learn that rhyme," the sexton said.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I've a fine memory too. You start me now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd keep it up all night with ancient ballads."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And then—a strange thing happened. I saw John Ford<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"With folded arms and melancholy hat"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(As in our Mermaid jest he still would sit)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watching old Scarlet like a man in trance.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sexton gulped his ale and smacked his lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then croaked again—"O, ay, there's work to spare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We fills 'em faster than the spades can dig,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, all at once, the lights burned low and blue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ford leaned right forward, with his grim black eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Widening.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">"Why, that's a marvellous ring!" he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pointed to the sexton's gnarled old hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spread on the black oak-table like the claw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of some great bird of prey. "A ruby worth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ransom of a queen!" The fire leapt up!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sexton stared at him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then stretched his hand out, with its blue-black nails,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full in the light, a grim earth-coloured hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But bare as it was born.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">"There was a ring!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I could have sworn it! Red as blood!" cried Ford.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Ben and Lodge and Drummond of Hawthornden<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All stared at him. For such a silent soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was master Ford that, when he suddenly spake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It struck the rest as dumb as if the Sphinx<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had opened its cold stone lips. He would sit mute<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brooding, aloof, for hours, his cloak around him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A staff between his knees, as if prepared<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a long journey, a lonely pilgrimage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To some dark tomb; a strange and sorrowful soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet not—as many thought him—harsh or hard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But of a most kind patience. Though he wrote<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In blood, they say, the blood came from his heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the sufferings of this world he took<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To his own soul, and bade them pasture there:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till out of his compassion, he became<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A monument of bitterness. He rebelled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so fell short of that celestial height</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereto the greatest only climb, who stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Shakespeare, and accept the Eternal Law.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These find, in law, firm footing for the soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The strength that binds the stars, and reins the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The base of being, the pillars of the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pledge of honour, the pure cord of love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The form of truth, the golden floors of heaven.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These men discern a height beyond all heights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A depth below all depths, and never an end<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without a pang beyond it, and a hope;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without a heaven beyond it, and a hell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For these, despair is like a bubble pricked,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An old romance to make young lovers weep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For these, the law becomes a fiery road,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Jacob's ladder through that vast abyss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lacking no rung from realm to loftier realm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor wanting one degree from dust to wings.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These, at the last, radiant with victory,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lay their strong hands upon the wingèd steeds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fiery chariots, and exult to hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Themselves, the throbbing reins, whereby they steer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stormy splendours.<br /></span> +<span class="i22">He, being less, rebelled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cried out for unreined steeds, and unruled stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An unprohibited ocean and a truth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Untrue; and the equal thunder of the law<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hurled him to night and chaos, who was born<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shine upon the forehead of the day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet—the voice of darkness and despair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May speak for heaven where heaven would not be heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May fight for heaven where heaven would not prevail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the consummate splendour of that strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swallowing up all discords, all defeat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In one huge victory, harmonising all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make Lucifer, at last, at one with God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">There,—on that All Souls' Eve, you might have thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dead man spoke, to see how Drayton stared,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Drummond started.<br /></span> +<span class="i22">"You saw no ruby ring,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old sexton muttered sullenly. "If you did,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The worse for me, by all accounts. The lights<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burned low. You caught the firelight on my fist.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What was it like, this ring?"<br /></span> +<span class="i30">"A band of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a great ruby, heart-shaped, fit to burn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between the breasts of Laïs. Am I awake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or dreaming?"<br /></span> +<span class="i14">"Well,—that makes the second time!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's many have said they saw it, out of jest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To scare me. For the astrologer did say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The third time I should die. Now, did you see it?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most likely someone's told you that old tale!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You hadn't heard it, now?"<br /></span> +<span class="i26">Ford shook his head.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What tale?" said Ben.<br /></span> +<span class="i22">"O, you could make a book<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About my life. I've talked with quick and dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And neither ghost nor flesh can fright me now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wish it was a ring, so's I could catch him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sell him; but I've never seen him yet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A white witch told me, if I did, I'd go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clink, just like that, to heaven or t'other place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whirled in a fiery chariot with ten steeds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The way Elijah went. For I have seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So many mighty things that I must die<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mightily.<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Well,—I came, sirs, to my craft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The day mine uncle Robert dug the grave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For good Queen Katharine, she whose heart was broke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By old King Harry, a very great while ago.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maybe you've heard about my uncle, sirs?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was far-famous for his grave-digging.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In depth, in speed, in neatness, he'd no match!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They've put a fine slab to his memory<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Peterborough Cathedral—<i>Robert Scarlet,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Sexton for half a century</i>, it says,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>In Peterborough Cathedral, where he built</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The last sad habitation for two queens,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And many hundreds of the common sort.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And now himself, who for so many built</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Eternal habitations, others have buried.</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Obiit anno ætatis, ninety-eight,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>July the second, fifteen ninety-four.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2">We should do well, sir, with a slab like that,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shouldn't we?" And the sexton leered at Lodge.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Not many boasts a finer slab than that.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's many a king done worse. Ah, well, you see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'd a fine record. Living to ninety-eight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He buried generations of the poor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A countless host, and thought no more of it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than digging potatoes. He'd a lofty mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That found no satisfaction in small deeds.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But from his burying of two queens he drew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lively pleasure. Could he have buried a third,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It would indeed have crowned his old white hairs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he was famous, and he thought, perchance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A third were mere vain-glory. So he died.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I helped him with the second."<br /></span> +<span class="i30">The old man leered<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see the shaft go home.<br /></span> +<span class="i26">Ben filled the stoup<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With ale. "So that," quoth he, "began the tale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About this ruby ring?" "But who," said Lodge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Who was the second queen?"<br /></span> +<span class="i28">"A famous queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a great lover! When you hear her name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your hearts will leap. Her beauty passed the bounds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of modesty, men say, yet—she died young!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We buried her at midnight. There were few<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That knew it; for the high State Funeral<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was held upon the morrow, Lammas morn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anon you shall hear why. A strange thing that,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see the mourners weeping round a hearse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That held a dummy coffin. Stranger still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see us lowering the true coffin down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By torchlight, with some few of her true friends,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Peterborough Cathedral, all alone."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Old as the world," said Ford. "It is the way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of princes. Their true tears and smiles are seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At dead of night, like ghosts raised from the grave!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the luxury of their brief, bright noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cloaks but a dummy throne, a mask of life;</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, at the last, drapes a false catafalque,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holding a vacant urn, a mask of death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But tell, tell on!"<br /></span> +<span class="i20">The sexton took a draught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of ale and smacked his lips.<br /></span> +<span class="i28">"Mine uncle lived<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mile or more from Peterborough, then.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, past his cottage, in the dead of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her royal coach came creeping through the lanes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With scutcheons round it and no crowd to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heralds carrying torches in their hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And none to admire, but him and me, and one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pedlar-poet, who lodged with us that week<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And paid his lodging with a bunch of rhymes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By these, he said, my uncle Robert's fame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should live, as in a picture, till the crack<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of doom. My uncle thought that he should pay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Four-pence beside; but, when the man declared<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thought unworthy of these august events,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My uncle was abashed.<br /></span> +<span class="i22">And, truth to tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rhymes were mellow, though here and there he swerved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From truth to make them so. Nor would he change<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'June' to 'July' for all that we could say.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'I never said the month was June,' he cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'And if I did, Shakespeare hath jumped an age!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gods, will you hedge me round with thirty nights?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"June" rhymes with "moon"!' With that, he flung them down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strode away like Lucifer, and was gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before old Scarlet could approach again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The matter of that four-pence.<br /></span> +<span class="i30">Yet his rhymes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have caught the very colours of that night!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I can see through them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ay, just as through our cottage window-panes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can see the great black coach,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Carrying the dead queen past our garden-gate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The roses bobbing and fluttering to and fro,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hide, and yet show the more by hiding, half.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, like smoked glass through which you see the sun,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The song shows truest when it blurs the truth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is the way it goes."<br /></span> +<span class="i26">He rose to his feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Picked up his spade, and struck an attitude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaning upon it. "I've got to feel my spade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or I'll forget it. This is the way I speak it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Always." And, with a schoolboy's rigid face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And eyes fixed on the rafters, he began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sing-song, the pedlar-poet's bunch of rhymes:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As I went by the cattle-shed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The grey dew dimmed the grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, under a twisted apple-tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Robin Scarlet stood by me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Keep watch! Keep watch to-night," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"There's things 'ull come to pass.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Keep watch until the moon has cleared<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The thatch of yonder rick;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then I'll come out of my cottage-door<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wait for the coach of a queen once more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And—you'll say nothing of what you've heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But rise and follow me quick."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And what 'ull I see if I keep your trust,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wait and watch so late?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Pride," he said, "and Pomp," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Beauty to haunt you till you're dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Glorious Dust that goes to dust,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Passing the white farm-gate.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You are young and all for adventure, lad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the great tales to be told:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This night, before the clock strike one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your lordliest hour will all be done;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you'll remember it and be glad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the days when you are old!"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All in the middle of the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My face was at the pane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, creeping out of his cottage-door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wait for the coach of a queen once more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Scarlet, in the moon-light,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beckoned to me again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He stood beneath a lilac-spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like Father Time for dole,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Reading Tawny cloak and hood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With mattock and with spade he stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, far away to southward,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A bell began to toll.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He stood beneath a lilac-spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And never a word he said;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, as I stole out of the house,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He pointed over the orchard boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, not with dawn or sunset,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Northern sky grew red.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I followed him, and half in fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the old farm-gate again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, round the curve of the long white road,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw that the dew-dashed hedges glowed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red with the grandeur drawing near,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the torches of her train.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They carried her down with singing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With singing sweet and low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly round the curve they came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twenty torches dropping flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heralds that were bringing her<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The way we all must go.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas master William Dethick,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Garter King of Arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before her royal coach did ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With none to see his Coat of Pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For peace was on the countryside,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sleep upon the farms;</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Peace upon the red farm,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Peace upon the grey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace on the heavy orchard trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And little white-walled cottages,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace upon the wayside,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sleep upon the way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So master William Dethick,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With forty horse and men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like any common man and mean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rode on before the Queen, the Queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And—only a wandering pedlar<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Could tell the tale again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How, like a cloud of darkness,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Between the torches moved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Four black steeds and a velvet pall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crowned with the Crown Imperiall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And—on her shield—the lilies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lilies that she loved.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, stained and ever stainless<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah, white as her own hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White as the wonder of that brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crowned with colder lilies now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White on the velvet darkness,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lilies of her land!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The witch from over the water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fay from over the foam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bride that rode thro' Edinbro' town<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With satin shoes and a silken gown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A queen, and a great king's daughter,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thus they carried her home,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With torches and with scutcheons,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Unhonoured and unseen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the lilies of France in the wind a-stir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Lion of Scotland over her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darkly, in the dead of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They carried the Queen, the Queen.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sexton paused and took a draught of ale.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"'Twas there," he said, "I joined 'em at the gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My uncle and the pedlar. What they sang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The little shadowy throng of men that walked<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind the scutcheoned coach with bare bent heads<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know not; but 'twas very soft and low.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They walked behind the rest, like shadows flung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind the torch-light, from that strange dark hearse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, some said, afterwards, they were the ghosts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of lovers that this queen had brought to death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A foolish thought it seemed to me, and yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the night-wind they sang. And there was one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An olive-coloured man,—the pedlar said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was like a certain foreigner that she loved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One Chastelard, a wild French poet of hers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Also the pedlar thought they sang 'farewell'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In words like this, and that the words in French<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were written by the hapless Queen herself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When as a girl she left the vines of France<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Scotland and the halls of Holyrood:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Though thy hands have plied their trade<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Eighty years without a rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Robin Scarlet, never thy spade<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Built a house for such a guest!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Carry her where, in earliest June,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">All the whitest hawthorns blow;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Carry her under the midnight moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Singing very soft and low.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow between the low green larches, carry the lovely lady sleeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Past the low white moon-lit farms, along the lilac-shadowed way!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Carry her through the summer darkness, weeping, weeping, weeping, weeping!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Answering only, to any that ask you, whence ye carry her,—<i>Fotheringhay!</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">She was gayer than a child!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">—<i>Let your torches droop for sorrow.</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Laughter in her eyes ran wild!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">—<i>Carry her down to Peterboro'.</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Words were kisses in her mouth!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">—<i>Let no word of blame be spoken.</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">She was Queen of all the South!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">—<i>In the North, her heart was broken.</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They should have left her in her vineyards, left her heart to her land's own keeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Left her white breast room to breathe, and left her light foot free to dance.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the cold grey Northern mists, we carry her weeping, weeping, weeping,—<br /></span> +<span class="i14"><i>O, ma patrie,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i14"><i>La plus chérie,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Adieu, plaisant pays de France!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Many a red heart died to beat<br /></span> +<span class="i8">—<i>Music swelled in Holyrood!</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Once, beneath her fair white feet.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">—<i>Now the floors may rot with blood</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">She was young and her deep hair—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">—<i>Wind and rain were all her fate!</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Trapped young Love as in a snare,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">—<i>And the wind's a sword in the Canongate!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i22"><i>Edinboro'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i22"><i>Edinboro'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Music built the towers of Troy, but thy grey walls are built of sorrow!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wind-swept hills, and sorrowful glens, of thrifty sowing and iron reaping,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What if her foot were fair as a sunbeam, how should it touch or melt your snows?<br /></span> +<span class="i8">What if her hair were a silken mesh?<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Hands of steel can deal hard blows,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Iron breast-plates bruise fair flesh!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i8">Carry her southward, palled in purple,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Weeping, weeping, weeping, weeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What had their rocks to do with roses? Body and soul she was all one rose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus, through the summer night, slowly they went,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We three behind,—the pedlar-poet and I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Robin Scarlet. The moving flare that ringed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The escutcheoned hearse, lit every leaf distinct<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the hedges and woke the sleeping birds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But drew no watchers from the drowsier farms.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, through a world of innocence and sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We brought her to the doors of her last home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Peterborough Cathedral. Round her tomb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They stood, in the huge gloom of those old aisles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heralds with their torches, but their light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Struggled in vain with that tremendous dark.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their ring of smoky red could only show<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A few sad faces round the purple pall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wings of a stone angel overhead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The base of three great pillars, and, fitfully,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faint as the phosphorus glowing in some old vault,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One little slab of marble, far away.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet, or the darkness, or the pedlar's words<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had made me fanciful, I thought I saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bowed shadows praying in those unplumbed aisles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, dimly heard them weeping, in a grief<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That still was built of silence, like the drip<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of water from a frozen fountain-head.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We laid her in her grave. We closed the tomb.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With echoing footsteps all the funeral went;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I went last to close and lock the doors;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Last, and half frightened of the enormous gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That rolled along behind me as one by one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The torches vanished. O, I was glad to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moonlight on the kind turf-mounds again.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But, as I turned the key, a quivering hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was laid upon my arm. I turned and saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That foreigner with the olive-coloured face.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From head to foot he shivered, as with cold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He drew me into the shadows of the porch.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Come back with me,' he whispered, and slid his hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Like ice it was!—along my wrist, and slipped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A ring upon my finger, muttering quick,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As in a burning fever, 'All the wealth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Eldorado for one hour! Come back!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I must go back and see her face again!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was not there, not there, the day she—died.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll help me with the coffin. Not a soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will know. Come back! One moment, only one!'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I thought the man was mad, and plucked my hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Away from him. He caught me by the sleeve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sank upon his knees, lifting his face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most piteously to mine. 'One moment! See!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I loved her!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw the moonlight glisten on his tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great, long, slow tears they were; and then—my God—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As his face lifted and his head sank back<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beseeching me—I saw a crimson thread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Circling his throat, as though the headsman's axe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had cloven it with one blow, so shrewd, so keen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The head had slipped not from the trunk.<br /></span> +<span class="i30">I gasped;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as he pleaded, stretching his head back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wound, O like a second awful mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wound began to gape.<br /></span> +<span class="i24">I tore my cloak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of his clutch. My keys fell with a clash.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I left them where they lay, and with a shout<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I dashed into the broad white empty road.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was no soul in sight. Sweating with fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hastened home, not daring to look back;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as I turned the corner, I heard the clang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of those great doors, and knew he had entered in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not till I saw before me in the lane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pedlar and my uncle did I halt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And look at that which clasped my finger still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As with a band of ice.<br /></span> +<span class="i22">My hand was bare!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I stared at it and rubbed it. Then I thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I had been dreaming. There had been no ring!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The poor man I had left there in the porch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Being a Frenchman, talked a little wild;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But only wished to look upon her grave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I—I was the madman! So I said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nothing. But all the same, for all my thoughts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd not go back that night to find the keys,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, not for all the rubies in the crown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Prester John.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">The high State Funeral<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was held on Lammas Day. A wondrous sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Peterborough! For myself, I found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Small satisfaction in a catafalque<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That carried a dummy coffin. None the less,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pedlar thought that as a Solemn Masque,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or Piece of Purple Pomp, the thing was good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And worthy of a picture in his rhymes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The more because he said it shadowed forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ironic face of Death.<br /></span> +<span class="i26">The Masque, indeed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Began before we buried her. For a host<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Mourners—Lords and Ladies—on Lammas eve<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Panting with eagerness of pride and place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arrived in readiness for the morrow's pomp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at the Bishop's Palace they found prepared<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mighty supper for them, where they sat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All at one table. In a Chamber hung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With 'scutcheons and black cloth, they drank red wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And feasted, while the torches and the Queen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crept through the darkness of Northampton lanes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At seven o'clock on Lammas Morn they woke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After the Queen was buried; and at eight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Masque set forth, thus pictured in the rhymes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With tolling bells, which on the pedlar's lips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had more than paid his lodging: Thus he spake it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly, sounding the rhymes like solemn bells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tolling, in between, with lingering tongue:—</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Toll!</i>—From the Palace the Releevants creep,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A hundred poor old women, nigh their end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wearing their black cloth gowns, and on each head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An ell of snow-white holland which, some said,<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Afterwards they might keep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—<i>Ah, Toll!</i>—with nine new shillings each to spend,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For all the trouble that they had, and all<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sorrow of walking to this funeral.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Toll!</i>—And the Mourning Cloaks in purple streamed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Following, a long procession, two by two,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her Household first. With these, Monsieur du Preau<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her French Confessor, unafraid to show<br /></span> +<span class="i18">The golden Cross that gleamed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About his neck, warned what the crowd might do<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said <i>I will wear it, though I die for it!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2">So subtle in malice was that Jesuit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Toll!</i>—Sir George Savile in his Mourner's Gown<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Carried the solemn Cross upon a Field<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Azure, and under it by a streamer borne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon a field of Gules, an Unicorn<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Argent and, lower down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A scrolled device upon a blazoned shield,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which seemed to say—<span class="smcap">I am silent till the end!</span>—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Toll! Toll!</i>—<span class="smcap">In my defence, God me defend!</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Toll!</i>—and a hundred poor old men went by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Followed by two great Bishops.—<i>Toll, ah toll!</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, with White Staves and Gowns, four noble lords;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then sixteen Scots and Frenchmen with drawn swords;<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Then, with a Bannerol,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Andrew Noel, lifting to the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Great Red Lion. Then the Crown and Crest<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Borne by a Herald on his glittering breast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now—ah now, indeed, the deep bell tolls—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That empty Coffin, with its velvet pall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Borne by six Gentlemen, under a canopy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of purple, lifted by four knights, goes by.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">The Crown Imperial<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burns on the Coffin-head. Four Bannerols<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On either side, uplifted by four squires,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Roll on the wind their rich heraldic fires.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Toll!</i> The Chief Mourner—the fair Russell!—<i>toll!</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Countess of Bedford—<i>toll!</i>—they bring her now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weeping under a purple Cloth of State,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till, halting there before the Minister Gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Having in her control<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fair White Staves of office, with a bow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She gives them to her two great Earls again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then sweeps them onward in her mournful train.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Toll!</i> At the high Cathedral door the Quires<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Meet them and lead them, singing all the while<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mighty <i>Miserere</i> for her soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, as the rolling organ—<i>toll, ah toll!</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Floods every glimmering aisle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With ocean-thunders, all those knights and squires<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bring the false Coffin to the central nave<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And set it in the Catafalque o'er her grave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Catafalque was made in Field-bed wise<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Valanced with midnight purple, fringed with gold:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the Chief Mourners on dark thrones were set<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within it, as jewels in some huge carcanet:<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Above was this device<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">In my defence, God me defend</span>, inscrolled<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Round the rich Arms of Scotland, as to say<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Man judged me. I abide the Judgment Day."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sexton paused anew. All looked at him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at his wrinkled, grim, earth-coloured hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if, in that dim light, beclouded now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With blue tobacco-smoke, they thought to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The smouldering ruby again.<br /></span> +<span class="i28">"Ye know," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"How master William Wickham preached that day?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ford nodded. "I have heard of it. He showed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Subtly, O very subtly, after his kind,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the white Body of Beauty such as hers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was in itself Papistical, a feast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fast, an incense, a burnt-offering,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And an Abomination in the sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all true Protestants. Why, her very name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was Mary!"<br /></span> +<span class="i10">"Ay, that's true, that's very true!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sexton mused. "Now that's a strange deep thought!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Bishop missed a text in missing that.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her name, indeed, was Mary!"<br /></span> +<span class="i28">"Did you find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your keys again?" "Ay, Sir, I found them!" "Where?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Strange you should ask me that! After the throng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Departed, and the Nobles were at feast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All in the Bishop's Palace—a great feast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And worthy of their sorrow—I came back<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Carrying my uncle's second bunch of keys<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lock the doors and search, too, for mine own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas growing dusk already, and as I thrust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The key into the lock, the great grey porch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grew cold upon me, like a tomb.<br /></span> +<span class="i32">I pushed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hard at the key—then stopped—with all my flesh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Freezing, and half in mind to fly; for, sirs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The door was locked already, and—<i>from within</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I drew the key forth quietly and stepped back<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the Churchyard, where the graves were warm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sunset still, and the blunt carven stones<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lengthened their homely shadows, out and out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Everlasting. Then I plucked up heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeing the footprints of that mighty Masque<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the pebbled path. A queer thought came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into my head that all the world without<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was but a Masque, and I was creeping back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back from the Mourner's Feast to Truth again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet—I grew bold, and tried the Southern door.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twas locked, but held no key on the inner side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To foil my own, and softly, softly, click,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I turned it, and with heart, sirs, in my mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pushed back the studded door and entered in ...<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stepped straight out of the world, I might have said,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the dusk into a night so deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So dark, I trembled like a child....<br /></span> +<span class="i36">And then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was aware, sirs, of a great sweet wave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of incense. All the gloom was heavy with it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if her Papist Household had returned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pray for her poor soul; and, my fear went.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But either that strange incense weighed me down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or else from being sorely over-tasked,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A languor came upon me, and sitting there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To breathe a moment, in a velvet stall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I closed mine eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i20">A moment, and no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For then I heard a rustling in the nave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And opened them; and, very far away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if across the world, in Rome herself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw twelve tapers in the solemn East,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw, or thought I saw, cowled figures kneel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before them, in an incense-cloud.<br /></span> +<span class="i34">And then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maybe the sunset deepened in the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of masques without—clear proof that I had closed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine eyes but for a moment, sirs, I saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if across a world-without-end tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A tiny jewelled glow of crimson panes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darkening and brightening with the West.<br /></span> +<span class="i40">And then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then I saw something more—Queen Mary's vault,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And—it was open!...<br /></span> +<span class="i20">Then, I heard a voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A strange deep broken voice, whispering love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In soft French words, that clasped and clung like hands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then—two shadows passed against the West,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two blurs of black against that crimson stain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly, O very slowly, with bowed heads,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaning together, and vanished into the dark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the Catafalque.<br /></span> +<span class="i22">Then—I heard him pray,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And knew him for the man that prayed to me,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pray as a man prays for his love's last breath!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then, O sirs, it caught me by the throat,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I, too, dropped upon my knees and prayed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, as in answer to his prayer, there came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A moan of music, a mighty shuddering sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the great organ, a sound that rose and fell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like seas in anger, very far away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then a peal of thunder, and then it seemed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if the graves were giving up their dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A great cowled host of shadows rose and sang;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12"><i>Dies iræ, dies illâ</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Solvet sæclum in favilla,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Teste David cum Sibylla.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I heard her sad, sad, little, broken voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out in the darkness. 'Ay, and David, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His blood is on the floors of Holyrood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To speak for me.' Then that great ocean-sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swelled to a thunder again, and heaven and earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrivelled away; and in that huge slow hymn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chariots were driven forth in flaming rows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And terrible trumpets blown from deep to deep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And then, ah then, the heart of heaven was hushed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And—in the hush—it seemed an angel wept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another Mary wept, and gathering up<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All our poor wounded, weary, way-worn world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even as a Mother gathers up her babe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soothed it against her breast, and rained her tears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the pierced feet of God, and melted Him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pity, and over His feet poured her deep hair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The music died away. The shadows knelt.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then—I heard a rustling nigh the tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heard—and heard—or dreamed I heard—farewells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farewells for everlasting, deep farewells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bitter as blood, darker than any death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, at the last, as in a kiss, one breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One agony of sweetness, like a sword<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For sharpness, drawn along a soft white throat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, for its terrible sweetness, like a sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across great waters, very far away,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Sweetheart!</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And then, like doors, like world-without-end doors<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That shut for Everlasting, came a clang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ringing, echoing, through the echo of it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One terrible cry that plucked my heart-strings out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Mary!</i> And on the closed and silent tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where there were two, one shuddering shadow lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then—I, too,—reeled, swooned and knew no more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sirs, when I woke, there was a broad bright shaft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of moonlight, slanting through an Eastern pane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full on her tomb and that black Catafalque.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the tomb there lay—my bunch of keys!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I struggled to my feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ashamed of my wild fancies, like a man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awakening from a drunken dream. And yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I picked up the keys, although that storm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of terror had all blown by and left me calm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I lifted up mine eyes to see the scroll<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round the rich crest of that dark canopy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">In my defence, God me defend</span>. The moon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Struck full upon it; and, as I turned and went,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God help me, sirs, though I were loyal enough<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To good Queen Bess, I could not help but say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Amen!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet, methought it was not I that spake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But some deep soul that used me for a mask,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soul that rose up in this hollow shell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like dark sea-tides flooding an empty cave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I could not help but say with my poor lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Amen! Amen!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i18">Sirs, 'tis a terrible thing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To move in great events. Since that strange night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have not been as other men. The tides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would rise in this dark cave"—he tapped his skull—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Deep tides, I know not whence; and when they rose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My friends looked strangely upon me and stood aloof.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And once, my uncle said to me—indeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It troubled me strangely,—'Timothy,' he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Thou art translated! I could well believe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art two men, whereof the one's a fool,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The other a prophet. Or else, beneath thy skin</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There lurks a changeling! What hath come to thee?'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then, sirs, then—well I remember it!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas on a summer eve, and we walked home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between high ghostly hedges white with may—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And uncle Robin, in his holy-day suit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Reading Tawny, felt his old heart swell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With pride in his great memories. He began<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chanting the pedlar's tune, keeping the time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, jingle, jingle, slowly, with his keys:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Douglas, in the moonless night<br /></span> +<span class="i6">—<i>Muffled oars on blue Loch Leven!</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Took her hand, a flake of white<br /></span> +<span class="i6">—<i>Beauty slides the bolts of heaven.</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Little white hand, like a flake of snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">When they saw it, his Highland crew<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Swung together and murmured low,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"Douglas, wilt <i>thou</i> die then, too?"<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And the pine trees whispered, weeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"<i>Douglas, Douglas, tender and true!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little white hand like a tender moonbeam, soon shall you set the broadswords leaping,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It is the Queen, the Queen!" they whispered, watching her soar to the saddle anew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"There will be trumpets blown in the mountains, a mist of blood on the heather, and weeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Weeping, weeping, and <i>thou</i>, too, dead for her, Douglas, Douglas, tender and true."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Carry the queenly lass along!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">—<i>Cold she lies, cold and dead,</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">She whose laughter was a song,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">—<i>Lapped around with sheets of lead!</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">She whose blood was wine of the South,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">—<i>Light her down to a couch of clay!</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And a royal rose her mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And her body made of may!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i8">—Lift your torches, weeping, weeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Light her down to a couch of clay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They should have left her in her vineyards, left her heart to her land's own keeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Left her white breast room to breathe, and left her light foot free to dance!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hush! Between the solemn pinewoods, carry the lovely lady sleeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out of the cold grey Northern mists, with banner and scutcheon, plume, and lance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Carry her southward, palled in purple, weeping, weeping, weeping, weeping,—<br /></span> +<span class="i16"><i>O, ma patrie,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i16"><i>La plus chérie,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Adieu, plaisant pays de France!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i0">Well, sirs, that dark tide rose within my brain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I snatched his keys and flung them over the hedge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then flung myself down on a bank of ferns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wept and wept and wept.<br /></span> +<span class="i28">It puzzled him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance he feared my mind was going and yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, sirs, if you consider it rightly now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all those ages knocking at his doors,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all that custom clamouring for his care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it so strange a grave-digger should weep?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well—he was kind enough and heaped my plate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That night at supper.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I could never dig my graves at ease<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Peterborough Churchyard. So I came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To London—to St. Mary Magdalen's.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus, I chanced to drink my ale one night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here in the Mermaid Inn. 'Twas All Souls' Eve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, on that bench, where master Ford now sits<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was master Shakespeare—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well, the lights burned low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And just like master Ford to-night he leaned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suddenly forward. 'Timothy,' he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'That's a most marvellous ruby!'</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i32">My blood froze!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I stretched my hand out bare as it was born;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he said nothing, only looked at me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, seeing my pipe was empty, he bade me fill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lit it for me.<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Peach, the astrologer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was living then; and that same night I went<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And told him all my trouble about this ring.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took my hand in his, and held it—thus—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then looked into my face and said this rhyme:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>The ruby ring, that only three</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>While Time and Tide go by, shall see,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Weds your hand to history.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>Honour and pride the first shall lend;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>The second shall give you gold to spend;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>The third—shall warn you of your end.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Peach was a rogue, some say, and yet he spake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most truly about the first," the sexton mused,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"For master Shakespeare, though they say in youth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Outside the theatres, he would hold your horse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For pence, prospered at last, bought a fine house<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Stratford, lived there like a squire, they say.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And here, here he would sit, for all the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As he were but a poet! God bless us all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then—to think!—he rose to be a squire!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A deep one, masters! Well, he lit my pipe!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Why did they bury such a queen by night?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Ford. "Kings might have wept for her. Did Death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Play epicure and glutton that so few<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were bidden to such a feast. Once on a time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I could have wept, myself, to hear a tale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of beauty buried in the dark. And hers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was loveliness, far, far beyond the common!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such beauty should be marble to the touch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of time, and clad in purple to amaze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moth. But she was kind and soft and fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A woman, and so she died. But, why the dark?"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sir, they gave out the coffin was too heavy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For gentlemen to bear!"—"For kings to bear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ford flashed at him. The sexton shook his head,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay! Gentlemen to bear! But—the true cause—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, sir, 'tis unbelievable, even to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sexton, for a queen so fair of face!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all her beds, even as the pedlar said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathing Arabia, sirs, her walls all hung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With woven purple wonders and great tales<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of amorous gods, and mighty mirrors, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imaging her own softness, night and dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When through her sumptuous hair she drew the combs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And like one great white rose-leaf half her breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shone through it, firm as ivory."<br /></span> +<span class="i34">"Ay," said Lodge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmuring his own rich music under breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>About her neck did all the graces throng,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And lay such baits as did entangle death.</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Well, sir, the weather being hot, they feared<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She would not hold the burying!"...<br /></span> +<span class="i36">"In some sort,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ford answered slowly, "if your tale be true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She did not hold it. Many a knightly crest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will bend yet o'er the ghost of that small hand."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was a hush, broken by Ben at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who turned to Ford—"How now, my golden lad?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The astrologer's dead hand is on thy purse!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ford laughed, grimly, and flung an angel down.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Well, cause or consequence, rhyme or no rhyme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is thy gold. I will not break the spell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or thou mayst live to bury us one and all!"<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"And, if I live so long," the old man replied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lighting his lanthorn, "you may trust me, sirs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine Inn is quiet, and I can find you beds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Queens might sleep all night and never move.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good-night, sirs, and God bless you, one and all."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He shouldered pick and spade. I opened the door.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The snow blew in, and, as he shuffled out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, in the strait dark passage, I could swear</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw a spark of red upon his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a great smouldering ruby.<br /></span> +<span class="i30">I gasped. He stopped.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He peered at me.<br /></span> +<span class="i16">"Twice in a night," he said.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nothing," I answered, "only the lanthorn-light."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shook his head. "I'll tell you something more!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's nothing, nothing now in life or death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That frightens me. Ah, things used to frighten me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But never now. I thought I had ten years;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if the warning comes and says '<i>Thou fool,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This night!'</i> Why, then, I'm ready."<br /></span> +<span class="i30">I watched him go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With glimmering lanthorn up the narrow street,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like one that walked upon the clouds, through snow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That seemed to mix the City with the skies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On Christmas Eve we heard that he was dead.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>VIII</h3> + +<h4>FLOS MERCATORUM</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Flos Mercatorum!</span> On that night of nights<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We drew from out our Mermaid cellarage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the old glory of London in one cask<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of magic vintage. Never a city on earth—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rome, Paris, Florence, Bagdad—held for Ben<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The colours of old London; and, that night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We staved them like a wine, and drank, drank deep!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas Master Heywood, whom the Mermaid Inn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had dubbed our London laureate, hauled the cask<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of its ancient harbourage. "Ben," he cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bustling into the room with Dekker and Brome,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The prentices are up!" Ben raised his head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the chimney-corner where he drowsed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And listened, reaching slowly for his pipe.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Clerk of the Bow Bell</i>," all along the Cheape<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There came a shout that swelled into a roar.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"What! Will they storm the Mermaid?" Heywood laughed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They are turning into Bread Street!"<br /></span> +<span class="i38">Down they came!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We heard them hooting round the poor old Clerk—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Clubs! Clubs! The rogue would have us work all night!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He rang ten minutes late! Fifteen, by Paul's!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And over the hubbub rose, like a thin bell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Clerk's entreaty—"Now, good boys, good boys,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Children of Cheape, be still, I do beseech you!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I took some forty winks, but then...." A roar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of wrathful laughter drowned him—"Forty winks!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remember Black May-day! We'll make you wink!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was a scuffle, and into the tavern rushed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gregory Clopton, Clerk of the Bow Bell,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A tall thin man, with yellow hair a-stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blazing eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i18">"Hide me," he clamoured, "quick!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These picaroons will murder me!"<br /></span> +<span class="i32">I closed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thick oak doors against the coloured storm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of prentices in red and green and ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saffron and Reading tawny. Twenty clubs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drubbed on the panels as I barred them out;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And even our walls and shutters could not drown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their song that, like a mocking peal of bells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under our windows, made all Bread Street ring:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">"<i>Clerk of the Bow Bell,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i14"><i>With the yellow locks,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>For thy late ringing</i><br /></span> +<span class="i14"><i>Thy head shall have knocks!</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Heywood, seeing the Clerk was all a-quake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went to an upper casement that o'er-looked<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The whole of Bread Street. Heywood knew their ways,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And parleyed with them till their anger turned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shouts of merriment. Then, like one deep bell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His voice rang out, in answer to their peal:</span>—<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">"<i>Children of Cheape,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i14"><i>Hold you all still!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>You shall have Bow Bell</i><br /></span> +<span class="i14"><i>Rung at your will!</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Loudly they cheered him. Courteously he bowed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then firmly shut the window; and, ere I filled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His cup with sack again, the crowd had gone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My clochard, sirs, is warm," quavered the Clerk.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I do confess I took some forty winks!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are good lads, our prentices of Cheape,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But hasty!"<br /></span> +<span class="i12">"Wine!" said Ben. He filled a cup<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thrust it into Gregory's trembling hands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Yours is a task," said Dekker, "a great task!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You sit among the gods, a lord of time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Measuring out the pulse of London's heart."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Yea, sir, above the hours and days and years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sometimes think. 'Tis a great Bell—the Bow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hath been, since the days of Whittington."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"The good old days," growled Ben. "Both good and bad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were measured by my Bell," the Clerk replied.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, while he spoke, warmed by the wine, his voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mellowed and floated up and down the scale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if the music of the London bells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lingered upon his tongue. "I know them all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And love them, all the voices of the bells.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Flos Mercatorum!</span> That's the Bell of Bow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remembering Richard Whittington. You should hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bells of London when they tell his tale.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once, after hearing them, I wrote it down.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know the tale by heart now, every turn."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Then ring it out," said Heywood.<br /></span> +<span class="i36">Gregory smiled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cleared his throat.<br /></span> +<span class="i24">"You must imagine, sirs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Clerk, sitting on high, among the clouds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With London spread beneath him like a map.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under his tower, a flock of prentices<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calling like bells, of little size or weight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But bells no less, ask that the Bell of Bow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall tell the tale of Richard Whittington,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As thus."<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Then Gregory Clopton, mellowing all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The chiming vowels, and dwelling on every tone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In rhythm or rhyme that helped to swell the peal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or keep the ringing measure, beat for beat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chanted this legend of the London bells:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clerk of the Bow Bell, four and twenty prentices,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All upon a Hallowe'en, we prithee, for our joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ring a little turn again for sweet Dick Whittington,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Flos Mercatorum</i>, and a barefoot boy!—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Children of Cheape," did that old Clerk answer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"You will have a peal, then, for well may you know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the bells of London remember Richard Whittington<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When they hear the voice of the big Bell of Bow!"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clerk with the yellow locks, mellow be thy malmsey!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He was once a prentice, and carolled in the Strand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ay, and we are all, too, Marchaunt Adventurers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Prentices of London, and lords of Engeland.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Children of Cheape," did that old Clerk answer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Hold you, ah hold you, ah hold you all still!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Souling if you come to the glory of a Prentice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You shall have the Bow Bell rung at your will!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whittington! Whittington! O, turn again, Whittington,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lord Mayor of London," the big Bell began:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Where was he born? O, at Pauntley in Gloucestershire<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hard by Cold Ashton, Cold Ashton," it ran.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Flos Mercatorum</i>," moaned the bell of All Hallowes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"There was he an orphan, O, a little lad alone!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Then we all sang," echoed happy St. Saviour's,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Called him, and lured him, and made him our own.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Told him a tale as he lay upon the hillside,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Looking on his home in the meadow-lands below!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Told him a tale," clanged the bell of Cold Abbey;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Told him the truth," boomed the big Bell of Bow!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sang of a City that was like a blazoned missal-book,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Black with oaken gables, carven and inscrolled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Every street a coloured page, and every sign a hieroglyph,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dusky with enchantments, a City paved with gold;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Younger son, younger son, up with stick and bundle!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Even so we rung for him—"But—kneel before you go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watch by your shield, lad, in little Pauntley Chancel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Look upon the painted panes that hold your Arms a-glow,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Coat of Gules and Azure; but the proud will not remember it!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the Crest a Lion's Head, until the new be won!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far away, remember it! And O, remember this, too,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Every barefoot boy on earth is but a younger son."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Proudly he answered us, beneath the painted window,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Though I be a younger son, the glory falls to me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While my brother bideth by a little land in Gloucestershire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All the open Earth is mine, and all the Ocean-sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet will I remember, yet will I remember,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By the chivalry of God, until my day be done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I meet a gentle heart, lonely and unshielded,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Every barefoot boy on earth is but a younger son!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he looked to Northward for the tall ships of Bristol;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Far away, and cold as death, he saw the Severn shine:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then he looked to Eastward, and he saw a string of colours<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Trickling through the grey hills, like elfin drops of wine;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down along the Mendip dale, the chapmen and their horses,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Far away, and carrying each its little coloured load,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winding like a fairy-tale, with pack and corded bundle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Trickled like a crimson thread along the silver road.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quick he ran to meet them, stick and bundle on his shoulder!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over by Cold Ashton, he met them trampling down,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White shaggy horses with their packs of purple spicery,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Crimson kegs of malmsey, and the silks of London town.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the chapmen asked of him the bridle-path to Dorset,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blithely he showed them, and he led them on their way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Led them through the fern with their bales of breathing Araby,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Led them to a bridle-path that saved them half a day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Merrily shook the silver bells that hung the broidered bridle-rein,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Chiming to his hand, as he led them through the fern,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down to deep Dorset, and the wooded Isle of Purbeck,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then—by little Kimmeridge—they led him turn for turn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down by little Kimmeridge, and up by Hampshire forest-roads,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Round by Sussex violets, and apple-bloom of Kent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Singing songs of London, telling tales of London,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All the way to London, with packs of wool they went.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"London was London, then! A clean, clear moat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Girdled her walls that measured, round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three miles or less. She is big and dirty now,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Dekker.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">"Call it a silver moat," growled Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"That's the new poetry! Call it crystal, lad!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, till you kiss the Beast, you'll never find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your Fairy Prince. Why, all those crowded streets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flung all their filth, their refuse, rags and bones,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dead cats and dogs, into your clean clear moat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And made it sluggish as old Acheron.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fevers and plagues, death in a thousand shapes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crawled out of it. London was dirty, lad;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And till you kiss that fact, you'll never see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The glory of this old Jerusalem!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Ay, 'tis the fogs that make the sunset red,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Answered Tom Heywood. "London is earthy, coarse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grimy and grand. You must make dirt the ground,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or lose the colours of friend Clopton's tale.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ring on!" And, nothing loth, the Clerk resumed:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bravely swelled his heart to see the moat of London glittering<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Round her mighty wall—they told him—two miles long!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then—he gasped as, echoing in by grim black Aldgate,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Suddenly their shaggy nags were nodding through a throng:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Prentices in red and ray, marchaunts in their saffron,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Aldermen in violets, and minstrels in white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clerks in homely hoods of budge, and wives with crimson wimples,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thronging as to welcome him that happy summer night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Back," they cried, and "Clear the way," and caught the ringing bridle-reins:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Wait! the Watch is going by, this vigil of St. John!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Merrily laughed the chapmen then, reining their great white horses back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"When the pageant passes, lad, we'll up and follow on!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, as thick the crowd surged, beneath the blossomed ale-poles,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lifting up to Whittington a fair face afraid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept against his horse by a billow of madcap prentices,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hard against the stirrup breathed a green-gowned maid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swift he drew her up and up, and throned her there before him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">High above the throng with her laughing April eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a Queen of Faërie on the great pack-saddle.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Hey!" laughed the chapmen, "the prentice wins the prize!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whittington! Whittington! the world is all before you!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blithely rang the bells and the steeples rocked and reeled!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then—he saw her eyes grow wide, and, all along by Leaden Hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drums rolled, earth shook, and shattering trumpets pealed.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like a marching sunset, there, from Leaden Hall to Aldgate,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flared the crimson cressets—O, her brows were haloed then!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then the stirring steeds went by with all their mounted trumpeters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then, in ringing harness, a thousand marching men.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Marching—marching—his heart and all the halberdiers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And his pulses throbbing with the throbbing of the drums;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marching—marching—his blood and all the burganets!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Look," she cried, "O, look," she cried, "and now the morrice comes!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dancing—dancing—her eyes and all the Lincoln Green,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Robin Hood and Friar Tuck, dancing through the town!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Where is Marian?" Laughingly she turned to Richard Whittington.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Here," he said, and pointed to her own green gown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dancing—dancing—her heart and all the morrice-bells!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then there burst a mighty shout from thrice a thousand throats!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, with all their bows bent, and sheaves of peacock arrows,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Marched the tall archers in their white silk coats,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">White silk coats, with the crest of London City<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Crimson on the shoulder, a sign for all to read,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marching—marching—and then the sworded henchmen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then, William Walworth, on his great stirring steed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Flos Mercatorum</i>, ay, the fish-monger, Walworth,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He whose nets of silk drew the silver from the tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He who saved the king when the king was but a prentice,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lord Mayor of London, with his sword at his side!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Burned with magic changes, his blood and all the pageantry;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Burned with deep sea-changes, the wonder in her eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Flos Mercatorum!</i> 'Twas the rose-mary of Paphos,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Reddening all the City for the prentice and his prize!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All the book of London, the pages of adventure,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Passed before the prentice on that vigil of St. John:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then the chapmen shook their reins,—"We'll ride behind the revelry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Round again to Cornhill! Up, and follow on!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Riding on his pack-horse, above the shouting multitude,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There she turned and smiled at him, and thanked him for his grace:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Let me down by <i>Red Rose Lane</i>," and, like a wave of twilight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While she spoke, her shadowy hair—touched his tingling face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When they came to <i>Red Rose Lane</i>, beneath the blossomed ale-poles,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Light along his arm she lay, a moment, leaping down:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then she waved "farewell" to him, and down the Lane he watched her<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flitting through the darkness in her gay green gown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All along the Cheape, as he rode among the chapmen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Round by <i>Black Friars</i>, to the <i>Two-Necked Swan</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Coloured like the sunset, prentices and maidens<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Danced for red roses on the vigil of St. John.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Over them were jewelled lamps in great black galleries,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Garlanded with beauty, and burning all the night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the doors were shadowy with orpin and St. John's wort,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Long fennel, green birch, and lilies of delight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He should have slept here at the Mermaid Inn,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Heywood as the chanter paused for breath.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What? Has our Mermaid sung so long?" cried Ben.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Her beams are black enough. There was an Inn,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Tom, "that bore the name; and through its heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There flowed the right old purple. I like to think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was the same, where Lydgate took his ease<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After his hood was stolen; and Gower, perchance;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, though he loved the <i>Tabard</i> for a-while,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I like to think the Father of us all,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old Adam of English minstrelsy caroused<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here in the Mermaid Tavern. I like to think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jolly Dan Chaucer, with his kind shrewd face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh as an apple above his fur-fringed gown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One plump hand sporting with his golden chain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looked out from that old casement over the sign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw the pageant, and the shaggy nags,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Whittington, and his green-gowned maid, go by.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O, very like," said Clopton, "for the bells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left not a head indoors that night." He drank<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A draught of malmsey—and thus renewed his tale:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Flos Mercatorum</i>," mourned the bell of All Hallowes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"There was he an orphan, O, a little lad alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rubbing down the great white horses for a supper!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"True," boomed the Bow Bell, "his hands were his own!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where did he sleep? On a plump white wool-pack,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Open to the moon on that vigil of St. John,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sheltered from the dew, where the black-timbered gallery<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frowned above the yard of the <i>Two-Necked Swan</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Early in the morning, clanged the bell of St. Martin's,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Early in the morning, with a groat in his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mournfully he parted with the jolly-hearted chapmen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shouldered his bundle and walked into the <i>Strand</i>;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Walked into the <i>Strand</i>, and back again to <i>West Cheape</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Staring at the wizardry of every painted sign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dazed with the steeples and the rich heraldic cornices<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drinking in the colours of the Cheape like wine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All about the booths now, the parti-coloured prentices<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fluted like a flock of birds along a summer lane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green linnets, red caps, and gay gold finches,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>What d'ye lack, and what d'ye lack, and what d'ye lack again?</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Buy my dainty doublets, cut on double taffetas,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Buy my Paris thread," they cried, and caught him by the hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Laces for your Heart's-Delight, and lawns to make her love you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cambric for her wimple, O, the finest in the land."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, but he was hungry, foot-sore, weary,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Knocking at the doors of the armourers that day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>What d'ye lack?</i> they asked of him; but no man lacked a prentice:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When he told them what he lacked, they frowned and turned away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hard was his bed that night, beneath a cruel archway,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down among the hulks, with his heart growing cold!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">London is a rare town, but O, the streets of London,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Red though their flints be, they are not red with gold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pale in the dawn, ere he marched on his adventure,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Starving for a crust, did he kneel a-while again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, upon the fourth night, he cried, O, like a wounded bird<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Let me die, if die I must, in <i>Red Rose Lane</i>."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like a little wounded bird he trailed through the darkness,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Laid him on a door-step, and then—O, like a breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pitifully blowing out his life's little rushlight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came a gush of blackness, a swoon deep as death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he heard a rough voice! Then he saw a lanthorn!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then he saw a bearded face, and blindly wondered whose:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then—a marchaunt's portly legs, with great Rose-Windows,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bigger than St. Paul's, he thought, embroidered on his shoes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alice!" roared the voice, and then, O like a lilied angel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Leaning from the lighted door a fair face afraid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaning over <i>Red Rose Lane</i>, O, leaning out of Paradise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drooped the sudden glory of his green-gowned maid!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O, mellow be thy malmsey," grunted Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Filling the Clerk another cup.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i30">"The peal,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quoth Clopton, "is not ended; but the pause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In ringing, chimes to a deep inward ear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tells its own deep tale. Silence and sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darkness and light, mourning and mirth,—no tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No painting, and no music, nay, no world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If God should cut their fruitful marriage-knot.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A shallow sort to-day would fain deny<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hell, sirs, to this boundless universe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To such I say 'no hell, no Paradise!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Others would fain deny the topless towers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of heaven, and make this earth a hell indeed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To such I say, 'the unplumbed gulfs of grief<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are only theirs for whom the blissful chimes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ring from those unseen heights.' This earth, mid-way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hangs like a belfry where the ringers grasp<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their ropes in darkness, each in his own place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each knowing, by the tune in his own heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never by sight, when he must toss through heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tone of his own bell. Those bounded souls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have never heard our chimes! Why, sirs, myself<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Simply by running up and down the scale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Descend to hell or soar to heaven. My bells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Height above height, deep below deep, respond!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their scale is infinite. Dare I, for one breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dream that one note hath crowned and ended all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sudden I hear, far, far above those clouds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like laughing angels, peal on golden peal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Innumerable as drops of April rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet every note distinct, round as a pearl,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And perfect in its place, a chime of law,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose pure and boundless mere arithmetic<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Climbs with my soul to God."<br /></span> +<span class="i28">Ben looked at him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gently. "Resume, old moralist," he said.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"On to thy marriage-bells!"<br /></span> +<span class="i28">"The fairy-tales<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are wiser than they know, sirs. All our woes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lead on to those celestial marriage-bells.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world's a-wooing; and the pure City of God<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peals for the wedding of our joy and pain!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This was well seen of Richard Whittington;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For only he that finds the London streets<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Paved with red flints, at last shall find them paved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like to the Perfect City, with pure gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye know the world! what was a London waif<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Hugh Fitzwarren's daughter? He was fed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And harboured; and the cook declared she lacked<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A scullion. So, in Hugh Fitzwarren's house,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He turned the jack, and scoured the dripping-pan.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How could he hope for more?<br /></span> +<span class="i28">This marchaunt's house<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was builded like a great high-gabled inn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Square, with a galleried courtyard, such as now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The players use. Its rooms were rich and dim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With deep-set coloured panes and massy beams.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its ancient eaves jutted o'er <i>Red Rose Lane</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darkly, like eyebrows of a mage asleep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its oaken stair coiled upward through a dusk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heavy with fume of scented woods that burned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To keep the Plague away,—a gloom to embalm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Pharaoh, but to dull the cheek and eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of country lads like Whittington.<br /></span> +<span class="i34">He pined<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For wind and sunlight. Yet he plied his task<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Patient as in old tales of Elfin-land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The young knight would unhelm his golden locks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And play the scullion, so that he might watch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lady's eyes unknown, and oftener hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her brook-like laughter rippling overhead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her green gown, like the breath of Eden boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rustling nigh him. And all day long he found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sunshine enough in this. But when at night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He crept into the low dark vaulted den,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cobwebbed cellar, where the cook had strewn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scullion's bed of straw (and none too thick<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest he should sleep too long), he choked for breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, like an old man hoarding up his life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fostered his glimmering rushlight as he sate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bolt upright, while a horrible scurry heaved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His rustling bed, and bright black-beaded eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peered at him from the crannies of the wall.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then darkness whelmed him, and perchance he slept,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only to fight with nightmares and to fly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down endless tunnels in a ghastly dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hunted by horrible human souls that took<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shape of monstrous rats, great chattering snouts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vile shapes of shadowy cunning and grey greed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That gnaw through beams, and undermine tall towns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And carry the seeds of plague and ruin and death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the careless homes of sleeping men.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thus, in the darkness, did he wage a war<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all the powers of darkness. 'If the light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do break upon me, by the grace of God,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So did he vow, 'O, then will I remember,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, then, will I remember, ay, and help<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To build that lovelier City which is paved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For rich and poor alike, with purest gold.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, sirs, he kept his vow. Ye will not smile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, at the first, the best that he could do<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was with his first poor penny-piece to buy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A cat, and bring her home, under his coat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By stealth (or else that termagant, the cook,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had drowned it in the water-butt, nor deemed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The water worse to drink). So did he quell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First his own plague, but bettered others, too.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, in those days, Marchaunt Adventurers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shared with their prentices the happy chance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of each new venture. Each might have his stake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little or great, upon the glowing tides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of high romance that washed the wharfs of Thames;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every lad in London had his groat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or splendid shilling on some fair ship at sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So, on an April eve, Fitzwarren called<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His prentices together; for, ere long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The <i>Unicorn</i>, his tall new ship, must sail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the world to gather gorgeous webs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Eastern looms, great miracles of silk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dipt in the dawn by wizard hands of Ind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, if they chanced upon that fabled coast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Sydon, river of jewels, like a snake</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slides down the gorge its coils of crimson fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance a richer cargo,—rubies, pearls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or gold bars from the Gates of Paradise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many a moon, at least, a faërie foam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would lap Blackfriars wharf, where London lads<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gazed in the sunset down that misty reach<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For old black battered hulks and tattered sails<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bringing their dreams home from the uncharted sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And one flung down a groat—he had no more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One staked a shilling, one a good French crown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one an angel, O, light-winged enough<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To reach Cathay; and not a lad but bought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His pennyworth of wonder,<br /></span> +<span class="i26">So they thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till all at once Fitzwarren's daughter cried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Father, you have forgot poor Whittington!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Snails,' laughed the rosy marchaunt, 'but that's true!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fetch Whittington! The lad must stake his groat!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twill bring us luck!'<br /></span> +<span class="i22">'Whittington! Whittington!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down the dark stair, like a gold-headed bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fluttered sweet Alice. 'Whittington! Richard! Quick!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quick with your groat now for the <i>Unicorn</i>!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'A groat!' cried Whittington, standing there aghast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With brown bare arms, still coloured by the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among his pots and pans. 'Where should I find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A groat? I staked my last groat in a cat!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—'What! Have you nothing? Nothing but a cat?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then stake the cat,' she said; and the quick fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in a woman's mind out-runs the thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of man, lit her grey eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i26">Whittington laughed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And opened the cellar-door. Out sailed his wealth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waving its tail, purring, and rubbing its head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now on his boots, now on the dainty shoe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Alice, who straightway, deaf to his laughing prayers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caught up the cat, whispered it, hugged it close,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against its grey fur leaned her glowing cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And carried it off in triumph.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28"><i>Red Rose Lane</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Echoed with laughter as, with amber eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blinking, the grey cat in a seaman's arms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went to the wharf. 'Ay, but we need a cat,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The captain said. So, when the painted ship<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sailed through a golden sunrise down the Thames,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A grey tail waved upon the misty poop,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Whittington had his venture on the seas.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was a nine days' jest, and soon forgot.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, all that year,—ah, sirs, ye know the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all the foolish boasting of the proud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looks not beneath the coat of Taunton serge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Gules and Azure. A prince that comes in rags<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To clean your shoes and, out of his own pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waits for the world to paint his shield again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must wait for ever and a day.<br /></span> +<span class="i32">The world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is a great hypocrite, hypocrite most of all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When thus it boasts its purple pride of race,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then with eyes blind to all but pride of place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tramples the scullion's heraldry underfoot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, never sees it, never dreams of it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Content to know that, here and now, his coat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is greasy....<br /></span> +<span class="i14">So did Whittington find at last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such nearness was most distant; that to see her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Talk with her, serve her thus, was but to lose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True sight, true hearing. He must save his life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By losing it; forsake, to win, his love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go out into the world to bring her home.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was but labour lost to clean the shoes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And turn the jack, and scour the dripping-pan.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For every scolding blown about her ears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cook's great ladle fell upon the head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Whittington; who, beneath her rule, became<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scullery's general scapegoat. It was he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That burned the pie-crust, drank the hippocras,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dinted the silver beaker....<br /></span> +<span class="i30">Many a month<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He chafed, till his resolve took sudden shape</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, out of the dark house at the peep of day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shouldering bundle and stick again, he stole<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To seek his freedom, and to shake the dust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of London from his shoes....<br /></span> +<span class="i28">You know the stone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Highgate, where he sate awhile to rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With aching heart, and thought 'I shall not see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her face again.' There, as the coloured dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the sleeping City slowly bloomed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A small black battered ship with tattered sails<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blurring the burnished glamour of the Thames<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crept, side-long to a wharf.<br /></span> +<span class="i28">Then, all at once,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The London bells rang out a welcome home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, over them all, tossing the tenor on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Bell of Bow, a sun among the stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flooded the morning air with this refrain:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Turn again, Whittington! Turn again, Whittington!<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Flos Mercatorum</i>, thy ship hath come home!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trailing from her cross-trees the crimson of the sunrise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dragging all the glory of the sunset thro' the foam.<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Turn again, Whittington,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Turn again, Whittington,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Lord Mayor of London!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Turn again, Whittington! When thy hope was darkest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Far beyond the sky-line a ship sailed for thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Flos Mercatorum</i>, O, when thy faith was blindest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Even then thy sails were set beyond the Ocean-sea.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So he heard and heeded us, and turned again to London,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stick and bundle on his back, he turned to <i>Red Rose Lane</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hardly hearing as he went the chatter of the prentices,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>What d'ye lack, and what d'ye lack, and what d'ye lack again?</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Back into the scullery, before the cook had missed him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Early in the morning his labours he began:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once again to clean the shoes and clatter with the water-pail,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Once again to scrub the jack and scour the dripping-pan.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All the bells of London were pealing as he laboured.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wildly beat his heart, and his blood began to race.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then—there came a light step and, suddenly, beside him<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stood his lady Alice, with a light upon her face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Quick,' she said, 'O, quick,' she said, 'they want you, Richard Whittington!'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Quick,' she said; and, while she spoke, her lighted eyes betrayed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that she had hidden long, and all she still would hide from him.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So—he turned and followed her, his green-gowned maid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, in a broad dark oaken-panelled room<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rich with black carvings and great gleaming cups<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of silver, sirs, and massy halpace built<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half over <i>Red Rose Lane</i>, Fitzwarren sat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, at his side, O, like an old romance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That suddenly comes true and fills the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With April colours, two bronzed seamen stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tattered and scarred, and stained with sun and brine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'<i>Flos Mercatorum</i>,' Hugh Fitzwarren cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holding both hands out to the pale-faced boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'The prentice wins the prize! Why, Whittington,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy cat hath caught the biggest mouse of all!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, on to the table, tilting a heavy sack,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of the seamen poured a glittering stream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of rubies, emeralds, opals, amethysts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That turned the room to an Aladdin's cave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or magic goblet brimmed with dusky wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where clustering rainbow-coloured bubbles clung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sparkled, in the halls of Prester John.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'And that,' said Hugh Fitzwarren, 'is the price<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Paid for your cat in Barbary, by a King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose house was rich in gems, but sorely plagued<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With rats and mice. Gather it up, my lad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And praise your master for his honesty;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, though my cargo prospered, yours outshines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The best of it. Take it, my lad, and go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You're a rich man; and, if you use it well,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Riches will make you richer, and the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will prosper in your own prosperity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The miser, like the cold and barren moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shines with a fruitless light. The spendthrift fool<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flits like a Jack-o-Lent over quags and fens;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he that's wisely rich gathers his gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into a fruitful and unwasting sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That spends its glory on a thousand fields<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blesses all the world. Take it and go.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Blankly, as in a dream, Whittington stared.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'How should I take it, sir? The ship was yours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ...'<br /></span> +<span class="i9">'Ay, the ship was mine; but in that ship<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your stake was richer than we knew. 'Tis yours.'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Then,' answered Whittington, 'if this wealth be mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who but an hour ago was all so poor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know one way to make me richer still.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gathered up the glittering sack of gems,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turned to the halpace, where his green-gowned maid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood in the glory of the coloured panes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He thrust the splendid load into her arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Muttering—'Take it, lady! Let me be poor!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But rich, at least, in that you not despise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waif you saved.'<br /></span> +<span class="i20">—'Despise you, Whittington?'—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'O, no, not in the sight of God! But I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grow tired of waiting for the Judgment Day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am but a man. I am a scullion now;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I would like, only for half an hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To stand upright and say "I am a king!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take it!'<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And, as they stood, a little apart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their eyes were married in one swift level look,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silent, but all that souls could say was said.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i46">And<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'I know a way,' said the Bell of St. Martin's.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tell it, and be quick,' laughed the prentices below!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Whittington shall marry her, marry her, marry her!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Peal for a wedding,' said the big Bell of Bow.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He shall take a kingdom up, and cast it on the sea again;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He shall have his caravels to traffic for him now;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shall see his royal sails rolling up from Araby,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the crest—a honey-bee—golden at the prow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whittington! Whittington! The world is all a fairy tale!—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Even so we sang for him.—But O, the tale is true!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whittington he married her, and on his merry marriage-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O, we sang, we sang for him, like lavrocks in the blue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far away from London, these happy prentice lovers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wandered through the fern to his western home again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down by deep Dorset to the wooded isle of Purbeck,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Round to little Kimmeridge, by many a lover's lane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There did they abide as in a dove-cote hidden<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Deep in happy woods until the bells of duty rang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then they rode the way he went, a barefoot boy to London,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Round by Hampshire forest-roads, but as they rode he sang:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Kimmeridge in Dorset is the happiest of places!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>All the little homesteads are thatched with beauty there!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>All the old ploughmen, there, have happy smiling faces,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Christmas roses in their cheeks, and crowns of silver hair.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Blue as are the eggs in the nest of the hedge-sparrow,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Gleam the little rooms in the homestead that I know</i>:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Death, I think, has lost the way to Kimmeridge in Dorset;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Sorrow never knew it, or forgot it, long ago!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Kimmeridge in Dorset, Kimmeridge in Dorset,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Though I may not see you more thro' all the years to be,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Yet will I remember the little happy homestead</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hidden in that Paradise where God was good to me.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So they turned to London, and with mind and soul he laboured,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Flos Mercatorum</i>, for the mighty years to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fashioning, for profit—to the years that should forget him!—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This, our sacred City that must shine upon the sea.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">London was a City when the Poulters ruled the Poultry!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rosaries of prayer were hung in Paternoster Row,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gutter Lane was Guthrun's, then; and, bright with painted missal-books,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ave Mary Corner</i>, sirs, was fairer than ye know.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">London was mighty when her marchaunts loved their merchandise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bales of Eastern magic that empurpled wharf and quay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">London was mighty when her booths were a dream-market,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Loaded with the colours of the sunset and the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, in all their glory, with the Virgin on their bannerols,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Glory out of Genoa, the Mercers might be seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Walking to their Company of Marchaunt Adventurers;—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gallantly they jetted it in scarlet and in green.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, in all the glory of the lordly Linen Armourers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Walked the Marchaunt Taylors with the Pilgrim of their trade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh from adventuring in Italy and Flanders,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Flos Mercatorum</i>, for a green-gowned maid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Flos Mercatorum!</i> Can a good thing come of Nazareth?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">High above the darkness, where our duller senses drown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifts the splendid Vision of a City, built on merchandise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fairer than that City of Light that wore the violet crown,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lifts the sacred vision of a far-resplendent City,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flashing, like the heart of heaven, its messages afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trafficking, as God Himself through all His interchanging worlds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Holding up the scales of law, weighing star by star,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stern as Justice, in one hand the sword of Truth and Righteousness;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blind as Justice, in one hand the everlasting scales,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifts the sacred Vision of that City from the darkness,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whence the thoughts of men break out, like blossoms, or like sails!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ordered and harmonious, a City built to music,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lifting, out of chaos, the shining towers of law,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ay, a sacred City, and a City built of merchandise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Flos Mercatorum</i>, was the City that he saw.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And by that light," quoth Clopton, "did he keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His promise. He was rich; but in his will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wrote those words which should be blazed with gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In London's <i>Liber Albus</i>:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i32"><i>The desire</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>And busy intention of a man, devout</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>And wise, should be to fore-cast and secure</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>The state and end of this short life with deeds</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Of mercy and pity, especially to provide</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>For those whom poverty insulteth, those</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>To whom the power of labouring for the needs</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Of life, is interdicted.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i28">He became<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Father of the City. Felons died<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fever in old Newgate. He rebuilt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The prison. London sickened, from the lack<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of water, and he made fresh fountains flow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He heard the cry of suffering and disease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And built the stately hospital that still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shines like an angel's lanthorn through the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stately halls of St. Bartholomew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw men wrapt in ignorance, and he raised<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Schools, colleges, and libraries. He heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cry of the old and weary, and he built<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Houses of refuge.<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Even so he kept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His prentice vows of Duty, Industry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Obedience, words contemned of every fool<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who shrinks from law; yet were those ancient vows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The adamantine pillars of the State.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let all who play their Samson be well warned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Samsons perish, too!<br /></span> +<span class="i26">His monument<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is London!"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">"True," quoth Dekker, "and he deserves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well of the Mermaid Inn for one good law,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rightly enforced. He pilloried that rogue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will Horold, who in Whittington's third year<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of office, as Lord Mayor, placed certain gums<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spices in great casks, and filled them up<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With feeble Spanish wine, to have the taste<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smell of Romeney,—Malmsey!"<br /></span> +<span class="i34">"Honest wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Indeed," replied the Clerk, "concerns the State,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That solemn structure touched with light from heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which he, our merchant, helped to build on earth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, while he laboured for it, all things else<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were added unto him, until the bells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More than fulfilled their prophecy.<br /></span> +<span class="i36">One great eve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Alice, leaning from her casement, saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another Watch, and mightier than the first,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Billowing past the newly painted doors<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Whittington Palace—so men called his house<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Hart Street, fifteen yards from old Mark Lane,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">thousand burganets and halberdiers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand archers in their white silk coats,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand mounted men in ringing mail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand sworded henchmen; then, his Guild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Advancing, on their splendid bannerols<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Virgin, glorious in gold; and then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Flos Mercatorum</i>, on his great stirring steed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whittington! On that night he made a feast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For London and the King. His feasting hall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleamed like the magic cave that Prester John<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrought out of one huge opal. East and West<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lavished their wealth on that great Citizen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, when the King from Agincourt returned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Victorious, but with empty coffers, lent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three times the ransom of an Emperor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fill them—on the royal bond, and said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the King questioned him of how and whence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'I am the steward of your City, sire!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a sea, and who shall drain it dry?'</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Over the roasted swans and peacock pies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The minstrels in the great black gallery tuned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All hearts to mirth, until it seemed their cups<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were brimmed with dawn and sunset, and they drank<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wine of gods. Lord of a hundred ships,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the feet of England, Whittington flung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The purple of the seas. And when the Queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Catharine, wondered at the costly woods<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That burned upon his hearth, the Marchaunt rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He drew the great sealed parchments from his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bonds the King had given him on his loans,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loans that might drain the Mediterranean dry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'They call us hucksters, madam, we that love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our City,' and, into the red-hot heart of the fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He tossed the bonds of sixty thousand pounds.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'The fire burns low,' said Richard Whittington.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, overhead, the minstrels plucked their strings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, over the clash of wine-cups, rose a song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That made the old timbers of their feasting-hall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shake, as a galleon shakes in a gale of wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When she rolls glorying through the Ocean-sea:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Marchaunt Adventurers, O, what shall it profit you<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thus to seek your kingdom in the dream-destroying sun?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ask us why the hawthorn brightens on the sky-line:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Even so our sails break out when Spring is well begun!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Flos Mercatorum!</i> Blossom wide, ye sail of Englande,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hasten ye the kingdom, now the bitter days are done!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ay, for we be members, one of another,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Each for all and all for each,' quoth Richard Whittington!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i>—Marchaunt Adventurers,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Marchaunt Adventurers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Marchaunt Adventurers, the Spring is well begun!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Break, break out on every sea, O, fair white sails of Englande!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Each for all, and all for each,' quoth Richard Whittington.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Marchaunt Adventurers, O what 'ull ye bring home again?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Woonders and works and the thunder of the sea!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom will ye traffic with? The King of the sunset!—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What shall be your pilot, then?—A wind from Galilee!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">—Nay, but ye be marchaunts, will ye come back empty-handed?—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ay, we be marchaunts, though our gain we ne'er shall see!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast we now our bread upon the waste wild waters;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">After many days it shall return with usury.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus:</i>—Marchaunt Adventurers,<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Marchaunt Adventurers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What shall be your profit in the mighty days to be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Englande! Englande! Englande! Englande!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Glory everlasting and the lordship of the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What need to tell you, sirs, how Whittington<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remembered? Night and morning, as he knelt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In those old days, O, like two children still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whittington and his Alice bowed their heads<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Together, praying.<br /></span> +<span class="i20">From such simple hearts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O never doubt it, though the whole world doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The God that made it, came the steadfast strength<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of England, all that once was her strong soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul that laughed and shook away defeat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As her strong cliffs hurl back the streaming seas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sirs, in his old age Whittington returned,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stood with Alice, by the silent tomb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In little Pauntley church.<br /></span> +<span class="i26">There, to his Arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Gules and Azure, and the Lion's Head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So proudly blazoned on the painted panes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(O, sirs, the simple wistfulness of it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might move hard hearts to laughter, but I think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tears tremble through it, for the Mermaid Inn)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He added his new crest, the hard-won sign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lowly prize of his own industry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The Honey-bee</i>. And, far away, the bells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peal softly from the pure white City of God:—<br /></span> +<span class="i18"><i>Ut fragrans nardus</i><br /></span> +<span class="i18"><i>Fama fuit iste Ricardus.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With folded hands he waits the Judgment now.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly our dark bells toll across the world,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For him who waits the reckoning, his accompt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Secure, his conscience clear, his ledger spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A <i>Liber Albus</i> flooded with pure light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10"><i>Flos Mercatorum,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Fundator presbyterorum</i>,...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slowly the dark bells toll for him who asks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more of men, but that they may sometimes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pray for the souls of Richard Whittington,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alice, his wife, and (as themselves of old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had prayed) the father and mother of each of them.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly the great notes fall and float away:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10"><i>Omnibus exemplum</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Barathrum vincendo morosum</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Condidit hoc templum ...</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Pauperibus pater ...</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Finiit ipse dies</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Sis sibi Christe quies. Amen.</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>IX</h3> + +<h4>RALEIGH</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ben was our only guest that day. His tribe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had flown to their new shrine—the Apollo Room,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To which, though they enscrolled his golden verse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above their doors like some great-fruited vine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben still preferred our <i>Mermaid</i>, and to smoke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone in his old nook; perhaps to hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The voices of the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The voices of his old companions.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hovering near him,—Will and Kit and Rob.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Our Ocean-shepherd from the Main-deep sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raleigh," he muttered, as I brimmed his cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Last of the men that broke the fleets of Spain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas not enough to cage him, sixteen years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rotting his heart out in the Bloody Tower,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But they must fling him forth in his old age<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hunt for El Dorado. Then, mine host,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because his poor old ship <i>The Destiny</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smashes the Spaniard, but comes tottering home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without the Spanish gold, our gracious king,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To please a catamite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sends the old lion back to the Tower again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The friends of Spain will send him to the block<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This time. That male Salome, Buckingham,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is dancing for his head. Raleigh is doomed."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A shadow stood in the doorway. We looked up;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there, but O, how changed, how worn and grey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Walter Raleigh, like a hunted thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stared at us.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">"Ben," he said, and glanced behind him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben took a step towards him.<br /></span> +<span class="i32">"O, my God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben," whispered the old man in a husky voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half timorous and half cunning, so unlike<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His old heroic self that one might weep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hear it, "Ben, I have given them all the slip!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I may be followed. Can you hide me here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till it grows dark?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben drew him quickly in, and motioned me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lock the door. "Till it grows dark," he cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My God, that you should ask it!"<br /></span> +<span class="i38">"Do not think,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do not believe that I am quite disgraced,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old man faltered, "for they'll say it, Ben;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when my boy grows up, they'll tell him, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His father was a coward. I do cling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To life for many reasons, not from fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of death. No, Ben, I can disdain that still;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But—there's my boy!"<br /></span> +<span class="i26">Then all his face went blind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He dropt upon Ben's shoulder and sobbed outright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They are trying to break my pride, to break my pride!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The window darkened, and I saw a face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blurring the panes. Ben gripped the old man's arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And led him gently to a room within,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the way of guests.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i20">"Your pride," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"That is the pride of England!"<br /></span> +<span class="i32">At that name—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>England!</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As at a signal-gun, heard in the night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far out at sea, the weather and world-worn man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That once was Raleigh, lifted up his head.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old age and weakness, weariness and fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fell from him like a cloak. He stood erect.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His eager eyes, full of great sea-washed dawns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burned for a moment with immortal youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While tears blurred mine to see him.<br /></span> +<span class="i36">"You do think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That England will remember? You do think it?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He asked with a great light upon his face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben bowed his head in silence.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">"I have wronged<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My cause by this," said Raleigh. "Well they know it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who left this way for me. I have flung myself<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a blind moth into this deadly light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of freedom. Now, at the eleventh hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it too late? I might return and—"<br /></span> +<span class="i38">"No!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not now!" Ben interrupted. "I'd have said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laugh at the headsman sixteen years ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When England was awake. She will awake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again. But now, while our most gracious king,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who hates tobacco, dedicates his prayers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Buckingham—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is no land for men that, under God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shattered the Fleet Invincible."<br /></span> +<span class="i32">A knock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Startled us, at the outer door. "My friend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stukeley," said Raleigh, "if I know his hand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He has a ketch will carry me to France,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waiting at Tilbury."<br /></span> +<span class="i20">I let him in,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lean and stealthy fellow, Sir Lewis Stukeley,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">liked him little. He thought much of his health,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">More of his money bags, and most of all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On how to run with all men all at once<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For his own profit. At the <i>Mermaid Inn</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men disagreed in friendship and in truth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he agreed with all men, and his life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was one soft quag of falsehood. Fugitives<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must use false keys, I thought; and there was hope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Raleigh if such a man would walk one mile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To serve him now. Yet my throat moved to see him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Usurping, with one hand on Raleigh's arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A kind of ownership. "<i>Lend me ten pounds</i>,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were the first words he breathed in the old man's ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Raleigh slipped his purse into his hand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Just over Bread Street hung the bruised white moon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When they crept out. Sir Lewis Stukeley's watch-dog,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A derelict bo'sun, with a mulberry face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Met them outside. "The coast quite clear, eh, Hart?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Stukeley. "Ah, that's good. Lead on, then, quick."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there, framed in the cruddle of moonlit clouds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ended the steep street, dark on its light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And standing on those glistening cobblestones<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just where they turned to silver, Raleigh looked back<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before he turned the corner. He stood there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A figure like foot-feathered Mercury,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tall, straight and splendid, waving his plumed hat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Ben, and taking his last look, I felt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon our <i>Mermaid Tavern</i>. As he paused,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His long fantastic shadow swayed and swept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against our feet. Then, like a shadow, he passed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It is not right," said Ben, "it is not right.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why did they give the old man so much grace?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Witness and evidence are what they lack.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would you trust Stukeley—not to draw him out?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raleigh was always rash. A phrase or two<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will turn their murderous axe into a sword<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of righteousness—</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">Why, come to think of it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blackfriar's Wharf, last night, I landed there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And—no, by God!—Raleigh is not himself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tide will never serve beyond Gravesend.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is a trap! Come on! We'll follow them!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quick! To the river side!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i26">We reached the wharf<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only to see their wherry, a small black cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dwindling far down that running silver road.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben touched my arm.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Look there," he said, pointing up-stream.<br /></span> +<span class="i38">The moon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glanced on a cluster of pikes, like silver thorns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three hundred yards away, a little troop<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of weaponed men, embarking hurriedly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their great black wherry clumsily swung about,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, with twelve oars for legs, came striding down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An armoured beetle on the glittering trail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of some small victim.<br /></span> +<span class="i28">Just below our wharf<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little dinghy waddled.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben cut the painter, and without one word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drew her up crackling thro' the lapping water,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Motioned me to the tiller, thrust her off,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, pulling with one oar, backing with the other,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swirled her round and down, hard on the track<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Raleigh. Ben was an old man now but tough,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O tough as a buccaneer. We distanced them.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His oar blades drove the silver boiling back.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Broken Wharf the beetle was a speck.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It dwindled by Queen Hythe and the Three Cranes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Bellyn's Gate we had left it, out of sight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Custom House and Galley Keye we shot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' silver all the way, without one glimpse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Raleigh. Then a dreadful shadow fell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And over us the Tower of London rose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like ebony; and, on the glittering reach<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond it, I could see the small black cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That carried the great old seaman slowly down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between the dark shores whence in happier years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The throng had cheered his golden galleons out,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And watched his proud sails filling for Cathay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, as through lead, we dragged by Traitor's Gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, in the darkness, under the Bloody Tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, on the very verge of victory,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben gasped and dropped his oars.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Take one and row," he said, "my arms are numbed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll overtake him yet!" I clambered past him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And took the bow oar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Once, as the pace flagged,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over his shoulder he turned his great scarred face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And snarled, with a trickle of blood on his coarse lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Hard!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blood and fire ran through my veins again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For half a minute more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">Yet we fell back.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our course was crooked now. And suddenly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A grim black speck began to grow behind us,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grow like the threat of death upon old age.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, thickening, blackening, sharpening, foaming, swept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up the bright line of bubbles in our wake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That armoured wherry, with its long twelve oars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All well together now.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">"Too late," gasped Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His ash-grey face uplifted to the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One quivering hand upon the thwart behind him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A moment. Then he bowed over his knees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Coughing. "But we'll delay them. We'll be drunk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hold the catch-polls up!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">We drifted down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before them, broadside on. They sheered aside.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, feigning a clumsy stroke, Ben drove our craft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As they drew level, right in among their blades.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was a shout, an oath. They thrust us off;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then we swung our nose against their bows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pulled them round with every well-meant stroke.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A full half minute, ere they won quite free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cursing us for a pair of drunken fools.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We drifted down behind them.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">"There's no doubt,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Ben, "the headsman waits behind all this</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Raleigh. This is a play to cheat the soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of England, teach the people to applaud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The red fifth act."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without another word we drifted down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For centuries it seemed, until we came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Greenwich.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then up the long white burnished reach there crept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like little sooty clouds the two black boats<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To meet us.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">"He is in the trap," said Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And does not know it yet. See, where he sits<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Stukeley as by a friend."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">Long after this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We heard how Raleigh, simply as a child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeing the tide would never serve him now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they must turn, had taken from his neck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some trinkets that he wore. "Keep them," he said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Stukeley, "in remembrance of this night."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He had no doubts of Stukeley when he saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wherry close beside them. He but wrapped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His cloak a little closer round his face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our boat rocked in their wash when Stukeley dropped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mask. We saw him give the sign, and heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His high-pitched quavering voice—"<span class="smcap">in the king's name!</span>"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raleigh rose to his feet. "I am under arrest?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said, like a dazed man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">And Stukeley laughed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, as he bore himself to the grim end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All doubt being over, the old sea-king stood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among those glittering points, a king indeed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The black boats rocked. We heard his level voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>Sir Lewis, these actions never will turn out</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>To your good credit.</i>" Across the moonlit Thames<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It rang contemptuously, cold as cold steel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And passionless as the judgment that ends all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some three months later, Raleigh's widow came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lodge a se'nnight at the Mermaid Inn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His house in Bread Street was no more her own,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in the hands of Stukeley, who had reaped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pretty harvest ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She kept close to her room, and that same night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Being ill and with some fever, sent her maid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fetch the apothecary from Friday Street,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old "Galen" as the Mermaid christened him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At that same moment, as the maid went out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stukeley came in. He met her at the door;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, chucking her under the chin, gave her a letter.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Take this up to your mistress. It concerns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her property," he said. "Say that I wait,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And would be glad to speak with her."<br /></span> +<span class="i34">The wench<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looked pertly in his face, and tripped upstairs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I scarce could trust my hands.<br /></span> +<span class="i30">"Sir Lewis," I said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"This is no time to trouble her. She is ill."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Let her decide," he answered, with a sneer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before I found another word to say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The maid tripped down again. I scarce believed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My senses, when she beckoned him up the stair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shaking from head to foot, I blocked the way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Property!" Could the crux of mine and thine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bring widow and murderer into one small room?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sir Lewis," I said, "she is ill. It is not right!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She never would consent."<br /></span> +<span class="i28">He sneered again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"You are her doctor? Out of the way, old fool!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She has decided!"<br /></span> +<span class="i20">"Go," I said to the maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Fetch the apothecary. Let it rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With him!"<br /></span> +<span class="i10">She tossed her head. Her quick eyes glanced,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Showing the white, like the eyes of a vicious mare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She laughed at Stukeley, loitered, then obeyed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And so we waited, till the wench returned,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Galen at her heels. His wholesome face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Russet and wrinkled like an apple, peered<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrewdly at Stukeley, twinkled once at me,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And passed in silence, leaving a whiff of herbs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind him on the stair.<br /></span> +<span class="i28">Five minutes later,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my amazement, that same wholesome face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaned from the lighted door above, and called<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sir Lewis Stukeley!"<br /></span> +<span class="i22">Sir Judas hastened up.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The apothecary followed him within.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The door shut. I was left there in the dark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bewildered; for my heart was hot with thoughts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of those last months. Our Summer's Nightingale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our Ocean-Shepherd from the Main-deep Sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Founder of our Mermaid Fellowship,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was this his guerdon—at the Mermaid Inn?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was this that maid-of-honour whose romance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Raleigh, once, had been a kingdom's talk?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could Bess Throckmorton slight his memory thus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is not right," I said, "it is not right.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She wrongs him deeply."<br /></span> +<span class="i26">I leaned against the porch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Staring into the night. A ghostly ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above me, from her window, bridged the street,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rested on the goldsmith's painted sign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Opposite.<br /></span> +<span class="i10">I could hear the muffled voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Stukeley overhead, persuasive, bland;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then, her own, cooing, soft as a dove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calling her mate from Eden cedar-boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flowed on and on; and then—all my flesh crept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At something worse than either, a long space<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of silence that stretched threatening and cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cold as a dagger-point pricking the skin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over my heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Then came a stifled cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A crashing door, a footstep on the stair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blundering like a drunkard's, heavily down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with his gasping face one tragic mask<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of horror,—may God help me to forget<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some day the frozen awful eyes of one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, fearing neither hell nor heaven, has met<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ultimate weapon of the gods, the face</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And serpent-tresses that turn flesh to stone—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stukeley stumbled, groping his way out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blindly, past me, into the sheltering night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was the last night of another year<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before I understood what punishment<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had overtaken Stukeley. Ben, and Brome—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben's ancient servant, but turned poet now—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sat by the fire with the old apothecary<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see the New Year in.<br /></span> +<span class="i24">The starry night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had drawn me to the door. Could it be true<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That our poor earth no longer was the hub<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of those white wheeling orbs? I scarce believed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The strange new dreams; but I had seen the veils<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rent from vast oceans and huge continents,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till what was once our comfortable fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our cosy tavern, and our earthly home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With heaven beyond the next turn in the road,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the resplendent fabric of our world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrank to a glow-worm, lighting up one leaf<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In one small forest, in one little land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among those wild infinitudes of God.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A tattered wastrel wandered down the street,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clad in a seaman's jersey, staring hard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At every sign. Beneath our own, the light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fell on his red carbuncled face. I knew him—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bo'sun, Hart.<br /></span> +<span class="i20">He pointed to our sign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leered at me. "That's her," he said, "no doubt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea-witch with the shiny mackerel tail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swishing in wine. That's what Sir Lewis meant.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He called it blood. Blood is his craze, you see.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is the Mermaid Tavern, sir, no doubt?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I nodded. "Ah, I thought as much," he said.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Well—happen this is worth a cup of ale."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He thrust his hand under his jersey and lugged<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A greasy letter out. It was inscribed<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Apothecary at the Mermaid Tavern</span>.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I led him in. "I knew it, sir," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Galen broke the seal. "Soon as I saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sweet young naked wench curling her tail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In those red waves.—The old man called it blood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blood is his craze, you see.—But you can tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis wine, sir, by the foam. Malmsey, no doubt.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that sweet wench to make you smack your lips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like oysters, with her slippery tail and all!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, sir, no doubt, this was the Mermaid Inn."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But this," said Galen, lifting his grave face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Ben, "this letter is from all that's left<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Stukeley. The good host, there, thinks I wronged<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your Ocean-shepherd's memory. From this letter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I think I helped to avenge him. Do not wrong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His widow, even in thought. She loved him dearly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You know she keeps his poor grey severed head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Embalmed; and so will keep it till she dies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weeps over it alone. I have heard such things<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In wild Italian tales. But <i>this</i> was true.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had I refused to let her speak with Stukeley<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I feared she would go mad. This letter proves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I—and she perhaps—were instruments,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of some more terrible chirurgery<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than either knew."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">"Ah, when I saw your sign,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bo'sun interjected, "I'd no doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That letter was well worth a cup of ale."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"Go—paint your bows with hell-fire somewhere else,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not at this inn," said Ben, tossing the rogue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A good French crown. "Pickle yourself in hell."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Hart lurched out into the night again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Muttering "Thank you, sirs. 'Twas worth all that.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No doubt at all."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i20">"There are some men," said Galen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spreading the letter out on his plump knees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Will heap up wrong on wrong; and, at the last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wonder because the world will not forget<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just when it suits them, cancel all they owe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, like a mother, hold its arms out wide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At their first cry. And, sirs, I do believe</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Stukeley, on that night, had some such wish<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To reconcile himself. What else had passed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between the widow and himself I know not;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But she had lured him on until he thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That words and smiles, perhaps a tear or two,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might make the widow take the murderer's hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In friendship, since it might advantage both.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Indeed, he came prepared for even more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Villains are always fools. A wicked act,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is it but a false move in the game,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A blind man's blunder, a deaf man's reply,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wrong drug taken in the dead of night?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I always pity villains.<br /></span> +<span class="i22">I mistook<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The avenger for the victim. There she lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Panting, that night, her eyes like summer stars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her pale gold hair upon the pillows tossed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dishevelled, while the fever in her face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brought back the lost wild roses of her youth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For half an hour. Against a breast as pure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smooth as any maid's, her soft arms pressed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bundle wrapped in a white embroidered cloth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She crooned over it as a mother croons<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over her suckling child. I stood beside her.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—That was her wish, and mine, while Stukeley stayed.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, over against me, on the other side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood Stukeley, gnawing his nether lip to find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She could not, or she would not, speak one word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In answer to his letter.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">'Lady Raleigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You wrong me, and you wrong yourself,' he cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'To play like a green girl when great affairs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are laid before you. Let me speak with you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">'But I am all alone,' she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Far more alone than I have ever been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all my life before. This is my doctor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He must not leave me.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">Then she lured him on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Played on his brain as a musician plays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the lute.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i16">'Forgive me, dear Sir Lewis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I am grown too gay for widowhood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I have pondered for a long, long time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On all these matters. I know the world was right;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Spain was right, Sir Lewis. Yes, and you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You too, were right; and my poor husband wrong.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You see I knew his mind so very well.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I knew his every gesture, every smile.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I lived with him. I think I died with him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is a strange thing, marriage. For my soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(As if myself were present in this flesh)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside him, slept in his grey prison-cell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On that last dreadful dawn. I heard the throng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmuring round the scaffold far away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with the smell of sawdust in my nostrils,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I woke, bewildered as himself, to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That tall black-cassocked figure by his bed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard the words that made him understand:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The Body of our Lord—take and eat this!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I rolled the small sour flakes beneath my tongue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With him. I caught, with him, the gleam of tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far off, on some strange face of sickly dread.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The Blood</i>—and the cold cup was in my hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cold as an axe-heft washed with waterish red.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard his last poor cry to wife and child.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could any that heard forget it?—<i>My true God,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Hold you both in His arms, both in His arms.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then—that last poor wish, a thing to raise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A smile in some. I have smiled at it myself<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand times.<br /></span> +<span class="i22">"<i>Give me my pipe</i>," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>My old Winchester clay, with the long stem,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And half an hour alone. The crowd can wait.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>They have not waited half so long as I.</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then, O then, I know what soft blue clouds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What wavering rings, fragrant ascending wreaths<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Melted his prison walls to a summer haze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through which I think he saw the little port<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Budleigh Salterton, like a sea-bird's nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the Devon cliffs—the tarry quay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence in his boyhood he had flung a line</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For bass or whiting-pollock. I remembered<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Had he not told me, on some summer night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His arm about my neck, kissing my hair)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He used to sit there, gazing out to sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, and for what? Not all for what he caught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And handled; but for rainbow-coloured things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The water-drops that jewelled his thin line,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flotsam and jetsam of the sunset-clouds;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the green water, gurgling through the piles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaving and sinking, helped him to believe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fast-bound quay a galleon plunging out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Superbly for Cathay. There would he sit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listening, a radiant boy, child of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listening to some old seaman's glowing tales,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His grey eyes rich with pictures—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i34">Then he saw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I with him, that gathering in the West,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To break the Fleet Invincible. O, I heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The trumpets and the neighings and the drums.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I watched the beacons on a hundred hills.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I drank that wine of battle from <i>his</i> cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gloried in it, lying against his heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sailed with him and saw the unknown worlds!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The slender ivory towers of old Cathay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose for us over lilac-coloured seas<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That crumbled a sky-blue foam on long shores<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of shining sand, shores of so clear a glass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They drew the sunset-clouds into their bosom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hung that City of Vision in mid-air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Girdling it round, as with a moat of sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hopelessly beautiful. O, yet I heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heard from his blazoned poops the trumpeters<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blowing proud calls, while overhead the flag<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of England floated from white towers of sail—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet, and yet, I knew that he was wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soon he knew it, too.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i26">I saw the cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of doubt assail him, in the Bloody Tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, being withheld from sailing the high seas<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For sixteen years, he spread a prouder sail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Took up his pen, and, walled about with stone,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Began to write—his <i>History of the World.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And emperors came like Lazarus from the grave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wear his purple. And the night disgorged<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its empires, till, O, like the swirl of dust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around their marching legions, that dim cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of doubt closed round him. Was there any man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So sure of heart and brain as to record<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The simple truth of things himself had seen?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then who could plumb that night? The work broke off!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He knew that he was wrong. I knew it, too!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once more that stately structure of his dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Melted like mist. His eagles perished like clouds.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death wound a thin horn through the centuries.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grave resumed his forlorn emperors.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His empires crumbled back to a little ash<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knocked from his pipe.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He dropped his pen in homage to the truth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The truth? <i>O, eloquent, just and mighty Death!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then, when he forged, out of one golden thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A key to open his prison; when the King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Released him for a tale of faërie gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the tropic palms; when those grey walls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Melted before his passion; do you think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gold that lured the King was quite the same<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As that which Raleigh saw? You know the song:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"Say to the King," quoth Raleigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"I have a tale to tell him;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Wealth beyond derision,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Veils to lift from the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Seas to sail for England,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And a little dream to sell him,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Gold, the gold of a vision<br /></span> +<span class="i10">That angels cannot buy."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, no! For all the beauty and the pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raleigh was wrong; but not so wrong, I think,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As those for whom his kingdoms oversea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meant only glittering dust. The fight he waged<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was not with them. They never worsted him.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[Pg 426]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was <i>The Destiny</i> that brought him home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without the Spanish gold.—O, he was wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But such a wrong, in Gloriana's day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was more than right, was immortality.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had just half an hour to put all this<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into his pipe and smoke it,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">The red fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The red heroic fire that filled his veins<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the proud flag of England floated out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its challenge to the world—all gone to ash?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What! Was the great red wine that Drake had quaffed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vinegar? He must fawn, haul down his flag,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And count all nations nobler than his own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tear out the lions from the painted shields<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That hung his poop, for fear that he offend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pride of Spain? Treason to sack the ships<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Spain? The wounds of slaughtered Englishmen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cried out—<i>there is no law beyond the line!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Treason to sweep the seas with Francis Drake?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Treason to fight for England?<br /></span> +<span class="i28">If it were so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The times had changed and quickly. He had been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A schoolboy in the morning of the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Playing with wooden swords and winning crowns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of tinsel; but his comrades had outgrown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their morning-game, and gathered round to mock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His battles in the sunset. Yet he knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That all his life had passed in that brief day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he was old, too old to understand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The smile upon the face of Buckingham,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The smile on Cobham's face, at that great word<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>England!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10">He knew the solid earth was changed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To something less than dust among the stars—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, O, be sure he knew that he was wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That gleams would come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleams of a happier world for younger men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Commonwealth, far off. This was a time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sadder things, destruction of the old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the new was born. At least he knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was his own way that had brought the world</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[Pg 427]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus far, England thus far! How could he change,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who had loved England as a man might love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His mistress, change from year to fickle year?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the new years would change, even as the old.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No—he was wedded to that old first love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crude flesh and blood, and coarse as meat and drink,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The woman—England; no fine angel-isle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ruled by that male Salome—Buckingham!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better the axe than to live on and wage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These new and silent and more deadly wars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That play at friendship with our enemies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such times are evil. Not of their own desire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They lead to good, blind agents of that Hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which now had hewed him down, down to his knees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in a prouder battle than men knew.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His pipe was out, the guard was at the door.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raleigh was not a god. But, when he climbed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scaffold, I believe he looked a man.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when the axe fell, I believe that God<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Set on his shoulders that immortal head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which he desired on earth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">O, he was wrong!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when that axe fell, not one shout was raised.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That mighty throng around that crimson block<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood silent—like the hushed black cloud that holds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thunder. You might hear the headsman's breath.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stillness like that is dangerous, being charged,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sometimes, with thought, Sir Lewis! England sleeps!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What if, one day, the Stewart should be called<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To know that England wakes? What if a shout<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should thunder-strike Whitehall, and the dogs lift<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their heads along the fringes of the crowd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To catch a certain savour that I know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The smell of blood and sawdust?—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i38">Ah, Sir Lewis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis hard to find one little seed of right<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among so many wrongs. Raleigh was wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet—it was because he loved his country<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Next to himself, Sir Lewis, by your leave,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[Pg 428]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His country butchered him. You did not know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I was only third in his affections?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The night I told him—we were parting then—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I had begged the last disposal of his body,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did he not say, with O, so gentle a smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>Thou hadst not always the disposal of it;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>In life, dear Bess. 'Tis well it should be thine</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>In death!</i>"'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">'The jest was bitter at such an hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And somewhat coarse in grain,' Stukeley replied.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Indeed I thought him kinder.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30">'Kinder,' she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laughing bitterly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">Stukeley looked at her.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She whispered something, and his lewd old eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fastened upon her own. He knelt by her.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Perhaps,' he said, 'your woman's wit has found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A better way to solve this bitter business.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her head moved on the pillow with little tossings.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He touched her hand. It leapt quickly away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She hugged that strange white bundle to her breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And writhed back, smiling at him, across the bed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Ah, Bess,' he whispered huskily, pressing his lips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To that warm hollow where her head had lain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'There is one way to close the long dispute,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keep the estates unbroken in your hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stop all slanderous tongues, one happy way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We have some years to live; and why alone?'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Alone?' she sighed. 'My husband thought of that.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wrote a letter to me long ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he was first condemned. He said—he said—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now let me think—what was it that he said?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I had it all by heart. "<i>Beseech you, Bess,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Hide not yourself for many days</i>", he said.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'True wisdom that,' quoth Stukeley, 'for the love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That seeks to chain the living to the dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is but self-love at best!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i24">'And yet,' she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'How his poor heart was torn between two cares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love of himself and care for me, as thus:</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[Pg 429]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Love God! Begin to repose yourself on Him!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Therein you shall find true and lasting riches;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>But all the rest is nothing. When you have tired</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Your thoughts on earthly things, when you have travelled</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Through all the glittering pomps of this proud world</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>You shall sit down by Sorrow in the end.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Begin betimes, and teach your little son</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>To serve and fear God also.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Then God will be a husband unto you,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And unto him a father; nor can Death</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Bereave you any more. When I am gone,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>No doubt you shall be sought unto by many</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For the world thinks that I was very rich.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>No greater misery can befall you, Bess,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Than to become a prey, and, afterwards,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>To be despised.'</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">'Human enough,' said Stukeley,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'And yet—self-love, self-love!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28">'Ah no,' quoth she,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'You have not heard the end: <i>God knows, I speak it</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Not to dissuade you</i>—not to dissuade you, mark—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>From marriage. That will be the best for you,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Both in respect of God and of the world.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was <i>that</i> self-love, Sir Lewis? Ah, not all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus he ended: <i>For his father's sake</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>That chose and loved you in his happiest times,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Remember your poor child! The Everlasting,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Infinite, powerful, and inscrutable God,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Keep you and yours, have mercy upon me,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And teach me to forgive my false accusers</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrong, even in death, you see. Then—<i>My true wife,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Farewell!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Bless my poor boy! Pray for me! My true God,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Hold you both in His arms, both in His arms!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know that he was wrong. You did not know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Lewis, that he had left me a little child.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come closer. You shall see its orphaned face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sad, sad relict of a man that loved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His country—all that's left to me. Come, look!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She beckoned Stukeley nearer. He bent down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curiously. Her feverish fingers drew</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[Pg 430]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The white wrap from the bundle in her arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with a smile that would make angels weep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She showed him, pressed against her naked breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Terrible as Medusa, the grey flesh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shrivelled face, embalmed, the thing that dropped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the headsman's basket, months agone,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The head of Raleigh.<br /></span> +<span class="i24">Half her body lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bare, while she held that grey babe to her heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Judas hid his face....<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Living,' she said, 'he was not always mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But—dead—I shall not wean him'—<br /></span> +<span class="i34">Then, I too<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Covered my face—I cannot tell you more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was a dreadful silence in that room,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silence that, as I know, shattered the brain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Stukeley.—When I dared to raise my head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath that silent thunder of our God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The man had gone—<br /></span> +<span class="i22">This is his letter, sirs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Written from Lundy Island: "<i>For God's love,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Tell them it is a cruel thing to say</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>That I drink blood. I have no secret sin.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>A thousand pound is not so great a sum;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And that is all they paid me, every penny.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Salt water, that is all the drink I taste</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>On this rough island. Somebody has taught</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The sea-gulls how to wail around my hut</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>All night, like lost souls. And there is a face,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>A dead man's face that laughs in every storm,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And sleeps in every pool along the coast.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I thought it was my own, once. But I know</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>These actions never, never, on God's earth,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Will turn out to their credit, who believe</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>That I drink blood.</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i20">He crumpled up the letter<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tossed it into the fire.<br /></span> +<span class="i28">"Galen," said Ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I think you are right—that one should pity villains."</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[Pg 431]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The clock struck twelve. The bells began to peal.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We drank a cup of sack to the New Year.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"New songs, new voices, all as fresh as may,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Ben to Brome, "but I shall never live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hear them."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">All was not so well, indeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Ben, as hitherto. Age had come upon him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He dragged one foot as in paralysis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The critics bayed against the old lion, now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And called him arrogant. "My brain," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Is yet unhurt although, set round with pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It cannot long hold out." He never stooped,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never once pandered to that brainless hour.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His coat was thread-bare. Weeks had passed of late<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without his voice resounding in our inn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The statues are defiled, the gods dethroned,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Ionian movement reigns, not the free soul.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as for me, I have lived too long," he said.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Well—I can weave the old threnodies anew."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, filling his cup, he murmured, soft and low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A new song, breaking on an ancient shore:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Marlowe is dead, and Greene is in his grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sweet Will Shakespeare long ago is gone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our Ocean-shepherd sleeps beneath the wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robin is dead, and Marlowe in his grave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why should I stay to chant an idle stave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in my Mermaid Tavern drink alone?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Kit is dead and Greene is in his grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sweet Will Shakespeare long ago is gone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where is the singer of the Faërie Queen?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where are the lyric lips of Astrophel?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long, long ago, their quiet graves were green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ay, and the grave, too, of their Faërie Queen!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[Pg 432]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet their faces, hovering here unseen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Call me to taste their new-found œnomel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sup with him who sang the Faërie Queen;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To drink with him whose name was Astrophel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I drink to that great Inn beyond the grave!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">—If there be none, the gods have done us wrong.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere long I hope to chant a better stave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In some great Mermaid Inn beyond the grave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quaff the best of earth that heaven can save,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Red wine like blood, deep love of friends and song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I drink to that great Inn beyond the grave;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hope to greet my golden lads ere long.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He raised his cup and drank in silence. Brome<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drank with him, too. The bells had ceased to peal.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Galen shook hands, and bade us all good-night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Brome, a little wistfully, I thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looked at his old-time master, and prepared<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To follow.<br /></span> +<span class="i14">"Good-night—Ben," he said, a pause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before he spoke the name. "Good-night! Good-night!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My dear old Brome," said Ben.<br /></span> +<span class="i34">And, at the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brome whispered to me, "He is lonely now.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There are not many left of his old friends.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We all go out—like this—into the night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what a fleet of stars!" he said, and shook<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My hand, and smiled, and pointed to the sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, when I looked into the room again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lights were very dim, and I believed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Ben had fallen asleep. His great grey head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was bowed across the table, on his arms.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, all at once, I knew that he was weeping;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And like a shadow I crept back again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stole into the night.<br /></span> +<span class="i28">There as I stood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the painted sign, I could have vowed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I, too, heard the voices of the dead,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The voices of his old companions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gathering round him in that lonely room,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till all the timbers of the Mermaid Inn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trembled above me with their ghostly song:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Say to the King, quoth Raleigh<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I have a tale to tell him,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Wealth beyond derision,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Veils to lift from the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seas to sail for England<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a little dream to sell him,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Gold, the gold of a vision,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">That angels cannot buy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair thro' the walls of his dungeon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">—What were the stones but a shadow?—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Streamed the light of the rapture,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The lure that he followed of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dream of his old companions,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The vision of El Dorado,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The fleet that they never could capture,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The City of Sunset-gold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet did they sail the seas<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, dazed with exceeding wonder,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Straight through the sunset-glory<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Plunge into the dawn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaving their home behind them,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By a road of splendour and thunder,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They came to their home in amazement<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Simply by sailing on.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</a></span></p> +<h2>NEW POEMS</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>A WATCHWORD OF THE FLEET</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>[<i>For purposes of recognition at night a small squadron of +Elizabethan ships, crossing the Atlantic, adopted as a +watchword the sentence: Before the world—was God.</i>]</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They diced with Death. Their big sea-boots<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were greased with blood. They swept the seas<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For England; and—we reap the fruits<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of their heroic deviltries!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our creed is in the cold machine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The inhuman devildoms of brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bolt that splits the midnight main,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loosed at a lever's touch; the lean<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Torpedo; "Twenty Miles of Power";<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The steel-clad Dreadnoughts' dark array!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet ... we that keep the conning tower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are not so strong as they<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose watchword we disdain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They laughed at odds for England's sake!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We count, yet cast our strength away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One Admiral with the soul of Drake<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Would break the fleets of hell to-day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give us the splendid heavens of youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Give us the banners of deathless flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The ringing watchwords of their fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The faith, the hope, the simple truth!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then shall the Deep indeed be swayed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through all its boundless breadth and length,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor this proud England lean dismayed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On twenty miles of strength,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or shrink from aught but shame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pull out by night, O leave the shore<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lighted streets of Plymouth town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pull out into the Deep once more!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There, in the night of their renown,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[Pg 435]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The same great waters roll their gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Around our midget period;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the huge decks that Raleigh trod<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over our petty darkness loom!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Along the line the cry is passed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From all their heaven-illumined spars,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Clear as a bell, from mast to mast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It rings against the stars:<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Before the world—was God.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>NEW WARS FOR OLD</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>Peace with its luxury is the corrupter of Nations.</i>"</p> + +<p class="right"><i>Any militarist Journal.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Peace! When have we prayed for peace?<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Over us burns a star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright, beautiful, red for strife!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yours are only the drum and the fife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the golden braid and the surface of life!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ours is the white-hot war!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Peace? When have we prayed for peace?<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ours are the weapons of men!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time changes the face of the world!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore your ancient flags are furled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ours are the unseen legions hurled<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Up to the heights again!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Peace? When have we prayed for peace?<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Is there no wrong to right?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrong crying to God on high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here where the weak and the helpless die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the homeless hordes of the city go by,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The ranks are rallied to-night!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[Pg 436]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Peace? When have we prayed for peace?<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Are ye so dazed with words?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth, heaven, shall pass away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere for your passionless peace we pray!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are ye deaf to the trumpets that call us to-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Blind to the blazing swords?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE PRAYER FOR PEACE</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>Unless public opinion can rise to the height of discussing +the substitution of law for force as a great world-movement, +the American arbitration proposals cannot be carried out.</i>"</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="i0"><i>Sir Edward Grey.</i><br /></span> +</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dare we—though our hope deferred<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Left us faithless long ago—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dare we let our hearts be stirred,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lift them to the light and <i>know</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast away our cynic shields,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Break the sword that Mockery wields,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Know</i> that Truth indeed prevails,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that Justice holds the scales?<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Britain, kneel!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kneel, Imperial Commonweal!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dare we know that this great hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dawning on thy long renown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marks the purpose of thy power,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Crowns thee with a mightier crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Know that to this purpose climb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the blood-red wars of Time?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If indeed thou <i>hast</i> a goal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beaconing to thy warrior soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Britain, kneel!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kneel, Imperial Commonweal!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[Pg 437]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dare we know what every age<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Writes with an unerring hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Read the midnight's moving page,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Read the stars and understand,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of Chaos ye shall draw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Linked harmonies of Law,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till around the Eternal Sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All your peoples move in one?<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Britain, kneel!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kneel, Imperial Commonweal!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dare we know that wearied eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dimmed with dust of every day<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Can</i>, once more, desire the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the glorious upward way?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dare we, if the Truth should still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vex with doubt our alien will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take it to our Maker's throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Him speak with us alone?<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Britain, kneel!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kneel, Imperial Commonweal!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Dare we cast our pride away?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Dare we tread where Lincoln trod?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>All the Future, by this day,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Waits to judge us and our God!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Set the struggling peoples free!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Crown with Law their Liberty!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Proud with an immortal pride,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Kneel we at our Sister's side!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Britain, kneel!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Kneel, Imperial Commonweal!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[Pg 438]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE SWORD OF ENGLAND</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>(<i>Written during a European war crisis</i>)</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not as one muttering in a spell-bound sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall England speak the word;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not idly bid the embattled lightnings leap,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor lightly draw the sword!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let statesmen grope by night in a blind dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The cold clear morning star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should like a trophy in her helmet gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When England sweeps to war!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not like a derelict, drunk with surf and spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drifting down to doom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But like the Sun-god calling up the day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Should England rend that gloom.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not as in trance, at some hypnotic call,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor with a doubtful cry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a clear faith, like a banner above us all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rolling from sky to sky.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She sheds no blood to that vain god of strife<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whom striplings call "renown";<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She knows that only they who reverence life<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can nobly lay it down;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And these will ride from child and home and love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through death and hell that day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But O, her faith, her flag, must burn above,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her soul must lead the way!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE DAWN OF PEACE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes—"on our brows we feel the breath<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of dawn," though in the night we wait!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An arrow is in the heart of Death,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A God is at the doors of Fate!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[Pg 439]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spirit that moved upon the Deep<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Is moving through the minds of men:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nations feel it in their sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A change has touched their dreams again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Voices, confused, and faint, arise,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Troubling their hearts from East and West.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A doubtful light is in their skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A gleam that will not let them rest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dawn, the dawn is on the wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The stir of change on every side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unsignalled as the approach of Spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Invincible as the hawthorn-tide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Have ye not heard it, far and nigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The voice of France across the dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the Atlantic with one cry<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Beating the shores of Europe?—hark!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then—if ye will—uplift your word<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of cynic wisdom! Once again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell us He came to bring a sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Tell us He lived and died in vain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Say that we dream! Our dreams have woven<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Truths that out-face the burning sun:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lightnings, that we dreamed, have cloven<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Time, space, and linked all lands in one!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dreams! But their swift celestial fingers<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Have knit the world with threads of steel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till no remotest island lingers<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Beyond the world's one Commonweal.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tell us that custom, sloth, and fear<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Are strong, then name them "common-sense"!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell us that greed rules everywhere,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Then dub the lie "experience":<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Year after year, age after age,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Has handed down, thro' fool and child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For earth's divinest heritage<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The dreams whereon old wisdom smiled.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[Pg 440]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dreams are they? But ye cannot stay them,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or thrust the dawn back for one hour!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truth, Love, and Justice, if ye slay them,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Return with more than earthly power:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strive, if ye will, to seal the fountains<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That send the Spring thro' leaf and spray:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drive back the sun from the Eastern mountains,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Then—bid this mightier movement stay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is the Dawn of Peace! The nations<br /></span> +<span class="i4">From East to West have heard a cry,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Through all earth's blood-red generations<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By hate and slaughter climbed thus high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here—on this height—still to aspire,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">One only path remains untrod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One path of love and peace climbs higher!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Make straight that highway for our God."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE BRINGERS OF GOOD NEWS</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like fallen stars the watch-fires gleamed<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Along our menaced age that night!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our bivouacked century tossed and dreamed<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of battle with the approaching light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rumors of change, a sea-like roar,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Shook the firm earth with doubt and dread:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The clouds, in rushing legions bore<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Their tattered eagles overhead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I saw the muffled sentries rest<br /></span> +<span class="i4">On the dark hills of Time. I saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around them march from East to West<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The stars of the unresting law.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I knew that in their mighty course<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They brought the dawn, they brought the day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that the unconquerable force<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of the new years was on the way.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[Pg 441]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I heard the feet of that great throng!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I saw them shine, like hope, afar!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their shout, their shout was like a song,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And O, 'twas not a song of war!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, as the whole world with their tramp<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Quivered, a signal-lightning spoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bugle warned our darkling camp,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And, like a thunder-cloud, it woke.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our searchlights raked the world's wide ends.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O'er the dark hills a grey light crept.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down, through the light, that host of friends<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We took for foemen, triumphing swept.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The old century could not hear their cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">How should it hear the song they sang?<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>We bring good news!</i> It pierced the sky!<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>We bring good news!</i> The welkin rang.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One shout of triumph and of faith;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And then—our shattering cannon roared!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, over the reeking ranks of death,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The song rose like a single sword.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>We bring good news!</i> Red flared the guns!<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>We bring good news!</i> The sabres flashed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the dark age with its own sons<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In blind and furious battle clashed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A swift, a terrible bugle pealed.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sulphurous clouds were rolled away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Embraced, embraced, on that red field,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The wounded and the dying lay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>We bring good news!</i> Blood choked the word,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">—<i>We knew you not; so dark the night!—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>O father, was I worth your sword?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>O son, O herald of the light!</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[Pg 442]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>We bring good news!</i>—The darkness fills<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Mine eyes!—Nay, the night ebbs away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, over the everlasting hills,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The great new dawn led on the day.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE LONELY SHRINE</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>(<i>A few months after the Milton Ter-centenary.</i>)</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The crowd has passed away,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Faded the feast, and most forget!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Master, we come with lowly hearts to pay<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our deeper debt.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High they upheld the wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And royally, royally drank to thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loud were their plaudits. Now the lonely shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Accepts our knee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All dark and silent now!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Master, thy few are faithful still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And nightly hear thy brooks that warbling flow<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By Siloa's hill.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>AT NOON</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>(AFTER THE FRENCH OF VERLAINE)</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sky is blue above the roof,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">So calm, so blue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One rustling bough above the roof<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Rocks, the noon through.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[Pg 443]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bell-tower in the sky, aloof,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Tenderly rings!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bird upon the bough, aloof,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Sorrows and sings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My God, my God, and life is here<br /></span> +<span class="i6">So simple and still!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far off, the murmuring town I hear<br /></span> +<span class="i6">At the wind's will....<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>What hast thou done, thou, weeping there?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>O quick, the truth!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>What hast thou done, thou, weeping there,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>With thy lost youth?</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>TO A FRIEND OF BOYHOOD LOST AT SEA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O warm blue sky and dazzling sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where have you hid my friend from me?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The white-chalk coast, the leagues of surf<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laugh to the May-light, now as then,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And violets in the short sweet turf<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make fragmentary heavens again,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And sea-born wings of rustling snow<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Pass and re-pass as long ago.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Old friend, do you remember yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The days when secretly we met<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In that old harbor years a-back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where I admired your billowing walk,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or in that perilous fishing smack<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What tarry oaths perfumed your talk,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The sails we set, the ropes we spliced,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The raw potato that we sliced,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For mackerel-bait—and how it shines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far down, at end of the taut lines!—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And the great catch we made that day,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[Pg 444]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Loading our boat with rainbows, quick<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And quivering, while you smoked your clay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I took home your "Deadwood Dick"<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In yellow and red, when day was done<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you took home my Stevenson?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not leagues, as when you sailed the deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But only some frail bars of sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sever us now! Methinks you still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Recall, as I, in dreams, the quay,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The little port below the hill:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the changes of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Like some great music, can but roll<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our lives still nearer to the goal.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>OUR LADY OF THE TWILIGHT</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our Lady of the Twilight<br /></span> +<span class="i6">From out the sunset-lands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes gently stealing o'er the world<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And stretches out her hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the blotched and broken wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The blind and fœtid lane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She stretches out her hands and all<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Is beautiful again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No factory chimneys can defile<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The beauty of her dress:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She stoops down with her heavenly smile<br /></span> +<span class="i6">To heal and love and bless:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All tortured things, all evil powers,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">All shapes of dark distress<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are turned to fragrance and to flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Beneath her kind caress.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our Lady of the Twilight,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">She melts our prison-bars!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She makes the sea forget the shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">She fills the sky with stars,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[Pg 445]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stooping over wharf and mill,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Chimney and shed and dome,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turns them to fairy palaces,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Then calls her children home.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She stoops to bless the stunted tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And from the furrowed plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the wrinkled brow she smooths<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The lines of care and pain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hers are the gentle hands and eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And hers the peaceful breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ope, in sunset-softened skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The quiet gates of death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Our Lady of the Twilight,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>She hath such gentle hands,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So lovely are the gifts she brings</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>From out the sunset-lands,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So bountiful, so merciful</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>So sweet of soul is she;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And over all the world she draws</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Her cloak of charity.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE HILL-FLOWERS</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>I will lift up mine eyes to the hills"</i></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Moving through the dew, moving through the dew,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Ere I waken in the city—Life, thy dawn makes all things new!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And up a fir-clad glen, far from all the haunts of men,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Up a glen among the mountains, oh my feet are wings again!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Moving through the dew, moving through the dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O mountains of my boyhood, I come again to you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the little path I know, with the sea far below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And above, the great cloud-galleons with their sails of rose and snow;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As of old, when all was young, and the earth a song unsung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the heather through the crimson dawn its Eden incense flung</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[Pg 446]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the mountain-heights of joy, for a careless-hearted boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the lavrocks rose like fountain sprays of bliss that ne'er could cloy,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From their little beds of bloom, from the golden gorse and broom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a song to God the Giver, o'er that waste of wild perfume;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blowing from height to height, in a glory of great light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the cottage-clustered valleys held the lilac last of night,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So, when dawn is in the skies, in a dream, a dream, I rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I follow my lost boyhood to the heights of Paradise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life, thy dawn makes all things new! Hills of Youth, I come to you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moving through the dew, moving through the dew.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Moving through the dew, moving through the dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Floats a brother's face to meet me! Is it you? Is it you?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the night I leave behind keeps these dazzled eyes still blind!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But oh, the little hill-flowers, their scent is wise and kind;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And I shall not lose the way from the darkness to the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While dust can cling as their scent clings to memory for aye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the least link in the chain can recall the whole again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heaven at last resume its far-flung harvests, grain by grain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To the hill-flowers clings my dust, and tho' eyeless Death may thrust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All else into the darkness, in their heaven I put my trust;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a dawn shall bid me climb to the little spread of thyme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where first I heard the ripple of the fountain-heads of rhyme.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And a fir-wood that I know, from dawn to sunset-glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall whisper to a lonely sea, that swings far, far below.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death, thy dawn makes all things new. Hills of Youth, I come to you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moving through the dew, moving through the dew.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[Pg 447]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE CAROL OF THE FIR-TREE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quoth the Fir-tree, "Orange and vine"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Sing 'Nowell, Nowell, Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Have their honour: I have mine!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>In Excelsis Gloria!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I am kin to the great king's house,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ring 'Nowell, Nowell, Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And Lebanon whispers in my boughs."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>In Excelsis Gloria!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Apple and cherry, pear and plum,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Winds of Autumn, sigh 'Nowell</i>'!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the trees like mages come<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Bending low with 'Gloria'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holding out on every hand<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Summer pilgrims to Nowell!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gorgeous gifts from Elfin-land.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And the May saith 'Gloria'!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out of the darkness—who shall say<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Gold and myrrh for this Nowell!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How they win their wizard way?<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Out of the East with 'Gloria'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men that eat of the sun and dew<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Angels laugh and sing, 'Nowell.'</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Call it "fruit," and say it "grew"!<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Into the West with 'Gloria'!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Leaves that fall," whispered the Fir<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Through the forest sing 'Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I am winter's minister."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>In Excelsis Gloria!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Summer friends may come and go,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Up the mountain sing 'Nowell.'</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love abides thro' storm and snow.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Down the valley, 'Gloria'!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"On my boughs, on mine on mine,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Father and mother, sing 'Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"All the fruits of the earth shall twine."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Bending low with 'Gloria.'</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[Pg 448]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sword of wood and doll of wax"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Little children, sing 'Nowell.'</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Swing on the stem was cleft with the axe!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Craftsmen all, a 'Gloria.'</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hear! I have looked on the other side."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Out of the East, O sing 'Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Because to live this night I died!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Into the West with 'Gloria.'</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Hear! In this lighted room I have found"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ye that seek, O sing 'Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The spell that worketh underground."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ye that doubt, a 'Gloria.'</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I have found it, even I,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ye that are lowly, sing 'Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The secret of this alchemy!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ye that are poor, a 'Gloria.'</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Look, your tinsel turneth to gold."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Sing 'Nowell! Nowell! Nowell!'</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Your dust to a hand for love to hold!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>In Excelsis Gloria.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lay the axe at my young stem now!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Woodman, woodman, sing 'Nowell.'</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Set a star on every bough!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>In Excelsis Gloria!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Hall and cot shall see me stand,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Rich and poor man, sing 'Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Giver of gifts from Elfin-land."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Oberon, answer 'Gloria.'</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hung by the hilt on your Christmas-tree"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Little children, sing 'Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Your wooden sword is a cross for me."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Emperors, a 'Gloria.'</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I have found that fabulous stone"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ocean-worthies, cry 'Nowell.'</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Which turneth all things into one,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wise men all, a 'Gloria.'</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[Pg 449]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It is not ruby nor anything"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Jeweller, jeweller, sing 'Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Fit for the crown of an earthly King:"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>In Excelsis Gloria!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is not here! It is not there!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Traveller, rest and cry 'Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is one thing and everywhere!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Heaven and Earth sing 'Gloria.'</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It is the earth, the moon, the sun,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Mote in the sunbeam, sing 'Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And all the stars that march as one."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>In Excelsis Gloria!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Here, by the touch of it, I can see"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Sing, O Life, a sweet Nowell!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The world's King die on a Christmas-tree."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Answer, Death, with 'Gloria.'</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Here, not set in a realm apart,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>East and West are one 'Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Holy Land is in your Heart!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>North and South one 'Gloria'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Death is a birth, birth is a death,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Love is all, O sing 'Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And London one with Nazareth."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And all the World a 'Gloria.'</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And angels over your heart's roof sing"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Birds of God, O pour 'Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"That a poor man's son is the Son of a King!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Out of your heart this 'Gloria'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Round the world you'll not away"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>In your own soul, they sing 'Nowell'!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"From Holy Land this Christmas Day!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>In your own soul, this 'Gloria.'</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[Pg 450]</a></span></p> +<h2>LAVENDER</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lavender, lavender<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That makes your linen sweet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hawker brings his basket<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down the sooty street:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dirty doors and pavements<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are simmering in the heat:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He brings a dream to London,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drags his weary feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lavender, lavender,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From where the bee hums,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the loud roar of London,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With purple dreams he comes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From raggèd lanes of wild-flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To raggèd London slums,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a basket full of lavender<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And purple dreams he comes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is it nought to you that hear him?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the old strange cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The weary hawker passes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And some will come and buy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some will let him pass away<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And only heave a sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But most will neither heed nor hear<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When dreams go by.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Lavender, lavender!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>His songs were fair and sweet,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>He brought us harvests out of heaven,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Full sheaves of radiant wheat;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>He brought us keys to Paradise,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And hawked them thro' the street;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>He brought his dreams to London,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And dragged his weary feet.</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[Pg 451]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lavender, lavender!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He is gone. The sunset glows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But through the brain of London<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The mystic fragrance flows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each foggy cell remembers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each raggèd alley knows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The land he left behind him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The land to which he goes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>The End</h3> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Collected Poems, by Alfred Noyes + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLLECTED POEMS *** + +***** This file should be named 30599-h.htm or 30599-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/5/9/30599/ + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Josephine Paolucci and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> |