The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley Part 75

SEMICHORUS 1: No! Yes!

SEMICHORUS 2: Yes! No!

SEMICHORUS 1: A law!

SEMICHORUS 2: A flaw!

SEMICHORUS 1: Porkers, we shall lose our wash, _115 Or must share it with the Lean-Pigs!

FIRST BOAR: Order! order! be not rash!

Was there ever such a scene, Pigs!

AN OLD SOW (RUSHING IN): I never saw so fine a dash Since I first began to wean Pigs. _120

SECOND BOAR (SOLEMNLY): The Queen will be an angel time enough.

I vote, in form of an amendment, that Purganax rub a little of that stuff Upon his face.

PURGANAX [HIS HEART IS SEEN TO BEAT THROUGH HIS WAISTCOAT]: G.o.ds! What would ye be at?

SEMICHORUS 1: Purganax has plainly shown a _125 Cloven foot and jackdaw feather.

SEMICHORUS 2: I vote Swellfoot and Iona Try the magic test together; Whenever royal spouses bicker, Both should try the magic liquor. _130

AN OLD BOAR [ASIDE]: A miserable state is that of Pigs, For if their drivers would tear caps and wigs, The Swine must bite each other's ear therefore.

AN OLD SOW [ASIDE]: A wretched lot Jove has a.s.signed to Swine, Squabbling makes Pig-herds hungry, and they dine _135 On bacon, and whip Sucking-Pigs the more.

CHORUS: Hog-wash has been ta'en away: If the Bull-Queen is divested, We shall be in every way Hunted, stripped, exposed, molested; _140 Let us do whate'er we may, That she shall not be arrested.

QUEEN, we entrench you with walls of brawn, And palisades of tusks, sharp as a bayonet: Place your most sacred person here. We p.a.w.n _145 Our lives that none a finger dare to lay on it.

Those who wrong you, wrong us; Those who hate you, hate us; Those who sting you, sting us; Those who bait you, bait us; _150 The ORACLE is now about to be Fulfilled by circ.u.mvolving destiny; Which says: 'Thebes, choose REFORM or CIVIL WAR, When through your streets, instead of hare with dogs, A CONSORT QUEEN shall hunt a KING with Hogs, _155 Riding upon the IONIAN MINOTAUR.'

NOTE: _154 streets instead edition 1820.

[ENTER IONA TAURINA.]

IONA TAURINA (COMING FORWARD): Gentlemen Swine, and gentle Lady-Pigs, The tender heart of every Boar acquits Their QUEEN, of any act incongruous With native Piggishness, and she, reposing _160 With confidence upon the grunting nation, Has thrown herself, her cause, her life, her all, Her innocence, into their Hoggish arms; Nor has the expectation been deceived Of finding shelter there. Yet know, great Boars, _165 (For such whoever lives among you finds you, And so do I), the innocent are proud!

I have accepted your protection only In compliment of your kind love and care, Not for necessity. The innocent _170 Are safest there where trials and dangers wait; Innocent Queens o'er white-hot ploughshares tread Unsinged, and ladies, Erin's laureate sings it, Decked with rare gems, and beauty rarer still, Walked from Killarney to the Giant's Causeway, _175 Through rebels, smugglers, troops of yeomanry, White-boys and Orange-boys, and constables, t.i.the-proctors, and excise people, uninjured!

Thus I!-- Lord Purganax, I do commit myself _180 Into your custody, and am prepared To stand the test, whatever it may be!

NOTE: (_173 'Rich and rare were the gems she wore.' See Moore's "Irish Melodies".-- [Sh.e.l.lEY'S NOTE.])

PURGANAX: This magnanimity in your sacred Majesty Must please the Pigs. You cannot fail of being A heavenly angel. Smoke your bits of gla.s.s, _185 Ye loyal Swine, or her transfiguration Will blind your wondering eyes.

AN OLD BOAR [ASIDE]: Take care, my Lord, They do not smoke you first.

PURGANAX: At the approaching feast Of Famine, let the expiation be.

SWINE: Content! content!

IONA TAURINA [ASIDE]: I, most content of all, _190 Know that my foes even thus prepare their fall!

[EXEUNT OMNES.]

SCENE 2.2: THE INTERIOR OF THE TEMPLE OF FAMINE.

THE STATUE OF THE G.o.dDESS, A SKELETON CLOTHED IN PARTI-COLOURED RAGS, SEATED UPON A HEAP OF SKULLS AND LOAVES INTERMINGLED.

A NUMBER OF EXCEEDINGLY FAT PRIESTS IN BLACK GARMENTS ARRAYED ON EACH SIDE, WITH MARROW-BONES AND CLEAVERS IN THEIR HANDS.

[SOLOMON, THE COURT PORKMAN.]

A FLOURISH OF TRUMPETS.

ENTER MAMMON AS ARCH-PRIEST, SWELLFOOT, DAKRY, PURGANAX, LAOCTONOS, FOLLOWED BY IONA TAURINA GUARDED.

ON THE OTHER SIDE ENTER THE SWINE.

CHORUS OF PRIESTS, ACCOMPANIED BY THE COURT PORKMAN ON MARROW-BONES AND CLEAVERS: G.o.dDESS bare, and gaunt, and pale, Empress of the world, all hail!

What though Cretans old called thee City-crested Cybele?

We call thee FAMINE! _5 G.o.ddess of fasts and feasts, starving and cramming!

Through thee, for emperors, kings, and priests and lords, Who rule by viziers, sceptres, bank-notes, words, The earth pours forth its plenteous fruits, Corn, wool, linen, flesh, and roots-- _10 Those who consume these fruits through thee grow fat, Those who produce these fruits through thee grow lean, Whatever change takes place, oh, stick to that!

And let things be as they have ever been; At least while we remain thy priests, _15 And proclaim thy fasts and feasts.

Through thee the sacred SWELLF00T dynasty Is based upon a rock amid that sea Whose waves are Swine--so let it ever be!

[SWELLFOOT, ETC., SEAT THEMSELVES AT A TABLE MAGNIFICENTLY COVERED AT THE UPPER END OF THE TEMPLE.

ATTENDANTS Pa.s.s OVER THE STAGE WITH HOG-WASH IN PAILS.

A NUMBER OF PIGS, EXCEEDINGLY LEAN, FOLLOW THEM LICKING UP THE WASH.]

MAMMON: I fear your sacred Majesty has lost _20 The appet.i.te which you were used to have.

Allow me now to recommend this dish-- A simple kickshaw by your Persian cook, Such as is served at the great King's second table.

The price and pains which its ingredients cost _25 Might have maintained some dozen families A winter or two--not more--so plain a dish Could scarcely disagree.--

SWELLFOOT: After the trial, And these fastidious Pigs are gone, perhaps I may recover my lost appet.i.te,-- _30 I feel the gout flying about my stomach-- Give me a gla.s.s of Maraschino punch.

PURGANAX (FILLING HIS GLa.s.s, AND STANDING UP): The glorious Const.i.tution of the Pigs!

ALL: A toast! a toast! stand up, and three times three!

DAKRY: No heel-taps--darken daylights! --

LAOCTONOS: Claret, somehow, _35 Puts me in mind of blood, and blood of claret!

SWELLFOOT: Laoctonos is fishing for a compliment, But 'tis his due. Yes, you have drunk more wine, And shed more blood, than any man in Thebes.

[TO PURGANAX.]

For G.o.d's sake stop the grunting of those Pigs! _40

PURGANAX: We dare not, Sire, 'tis Famine's privilege.

CHORUS OF SWINE: Hail to thee, hail to thee, Famine!

Thy throne is on blood, and thy robe is of rags; Thou devil which livest on d.a.m.ning; Saint of new churches, and cant, and GREEN BAGS, _45 Till in pity and terror thou risest, Confounding the schemes of the wisest; When thou liftest thy skeleton form, When the loaves and the skulls roll about, We will greet thee-the voice of a storm _50 Would be lost in our terrible shout!

Then hail to thee, hail to thee, Famine!

Hail to thee, Empress of Earth!