The Poetical Works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. M.P Part 58

By mortal dangers scared, the wise resort 107 To means fugacious, _licet et licebit_; But he who settles in a fairy's court, Loses that option, _sedet et sedebit_; Thrice Gawaine strove to stir, nor stirr'd a jot, Charms, cramps, and torments nail'd him to the spot.

Thus of his limbs deprived, the ingenious knight 108 Straightway betook him to his golden tongue-- "Angels," quoth he, "or fairies, with delight I see the race my friends the bards have sung Much honour'd that, in any way expedient, You make a ball-room of your most obedient."

Floated a sound of laughter, musical-- 109 As when in summer noon, melodious bees Cl.u.s.ter o'er jasmine roofs, or as the fall Of silver bells, on the Arabian breeze; What time with chiming feet in palmy shades Move, round the soften'd Moor, his Georgian maids.

Forth from the rest there stepped a princely fay-- 110 "And well, sir mortal, dost thou speak," quoth he, "We elves are seldom froward to the gay, Rise up, and welcome to our companie."

Sir Gawaine won his footing with a spring, Low bow'd the knight, as low the fairy king.

"By the bright diadem of dews congeal'd, 111 And purple robe of pranksome b.u.t.terfly, Your royal rank," said Gawaine, "is reveal'd, Yet more, methinks, by your majestic eye; Of kings with mien august I know but two, Men have their Arthur,--happier fairies, you."

"Methought," replied the elf, "thy first accost 112 Proclaim'd thee one of Arthur's peerless train; Elsewhere alas!--our later age hath lost The blithe good-breeding of King Saturn's reign, When, some four thousand years ago, with Fauns, We Fays made merry on Arcadian lawns.

"Time flees so fast it seems but yesterday! 113 And life is brief for fairies as for men."

"Ha," said Gawaine, "can fairies pa.s.s away?"

"Pa.s.s like the mist on Arran's wave, what then?

At least we're young as long as we survive; Our years six thousand--I have number'd five.

"But we have stumbled on a dismal theme, 114 As always happens when one meets a man-- Ho! stop that zephyr!--Robin, catch that beam!

And now, my friend, we'll feast it while we can."

The moonbeam halts, the zephyr bows his wing, Light through the leaves the laughing people spring.

Then Gawaine felt as if he skirr'd the air, 115 His brain grew dizzy, and his breath was gone; He stopp'd at last, and such inviting fare Never plump monk set l.u.s.tful eyes upon.

Wild sweet-briars girt the banquet, but the brake Oped where in moonlight rippled Bala's lake.

Such dainty cheer--such rush of revelry-- 116 Such silver laughter--such arch happy faces-- Such sportive quarrels from excess of glee-- Hush'd up with such sly innocent embraces, Might well make _twice_ six thousand years appear To elfin minds a sadly nipp'd career!

The banquet o'er, the royal Fay intent 117 To do all honour to King Arthur's knight, Smote with his rod the bank on which they leant, And Fairy-land flash'd glorious on the sight; Flash'd, through a silvery, soft, translucent mist, The opal shafts and domes of amethyst;

Flash'd founts in sh.e.l.ls of pearl, which crystal walls 118 And phosphor lights of myriad hues redouble; There, in the blissful subterranean halls, When morning wakes the world of human trouble, Glide the gay race; each sound our discord knows, Faint-heard above, but lulls them to repose.

O Gawaine, blush! Alas! that gorgeous sight, 119 But woke the latent mammon in the man, While fairy treasures shone upon the knight, His greedy thoughts on lands and castles ran.

He stretch'd his hands, he felt the fingers itch, "Sir Fay," quoth he, "you must be monstrous rich!"

Scarce fall the words from those unlucky lips, 120 Than down rush'd darkness, flooding all the place; His feet a fairy in a twinkling trips; The angry winglets swarm upon his face; Pounce on their prey the tiny torturers flew, And sang this moral while they pinch'd him blue:

CHORUS OF PREACHING FAIRIES.

Joy to him who fairy treasures With a fairy's eye can see; Woe to him who counts and measures What the worth in coin may be.

Gems from wither'd leaves we fashion For the spirit pure from stain; Grasp them with a sordid pa.s.sion And they turn to leaves again.

CHORUS OF PINCHING FAIRIES.

Here and there, and everywhere, Tramp and cramp him inch by inch; Fair is fair,--to each his share You shall preach, and we will pinch.

CHORUS OF PREACHING FAIRIES.

Fairy treasures are not rated By their value in the mart; In thy bosom, Earth, created For the coffers of the heart.

Dost thou covet fairy money?

Rifle but the blossom bells-- Like the wild bee, shape the honey Into golden cloister-cells.

CHORUS OF PINCHING FAIRIES.

Spirit hear it, flesh revere it!

Stamp the lesson inch by inch!

Rightly merit, flesh and spirit, This the preaching, that the pinch!

CHORUS OF PREACHING FAIRIES.

Wretched mortal, once invited, Fairy land was thine at will; Every little star had lighted Revels when the world was still.

Every bank a gate had granted.

To the topaz-paven halls-- Every wave had roll'd enchanted, Chiming from our music-falls.

CHORUS OF PINCHING FAIRIES.

Round him winging, sharp and stinging, Clip him, nip him, inch by inch, Sermons singing, wisdom bringing, Point the moral with a pinch.

CHORUS OF PREACHING FAIRIES.

Now the spell is lost for ever, And the common earth is thine; Count the traffic on the river, Weigh the ingots in the mine;

Look around, aloft, and under, With an eye upon the cost; Gone the happy world of wonder!

Woe, thy fairy land is lost!

CHORUS OF PINCHING FAIRIES.

Nature bare is, where thine air is, Custom cramps thee inch by inch, And when care is, human fairies Preach and--vanish, at a pinch!

Sudden they cease--for shrill crow'd chanticleer; 121 Grey on the darkness broke the glimmering light; Slowly a.s.sured he was not dead with fear And pinches, cautious peer'd around the knight; He found himself replaced beneath the oak, And heard with rising wrath the chuckling croak.

"O bird of birds most monstrous and malific, 122 Were these the inns to which thou wert to lead!

Now gash'd with swords, now claw'd by imps horrific; Wives--wounds--cramps--pinches! Precious guide, indeed!

Ossa on Pelion piling, crime on crime: Wretch, save thy throttle, and repent in time!"

Thus spoke the knight--the raven gave a grunt, 123 (That raven liked not threats to life or limb!) Then with due sense of the unjust affront, Hopp'd supercilious forth, and summon'd him-- His mail once more the aching knight indued, Limp'd to his steed, and ruefully pursued.

The sun was high when all the glorious sea 124 Flash'd through the boughs that overhung the way, And down a path, as rough as path could be, The bird flew sullen, delving towards the bay; The moody knight dismounts, and leads with pain The stumbling steed, oft backing from the rein.

One ray of hope alone illumed his soul, 125 "The bird will lead thee to the ocean coast,"

The wizard's words had clearly mark'd the goal; The goal once won--of course the guide was lost; While thus consoled, its croak the raven gave, Folded its wings and hopp'd into a cave.

Sir Gawaine paused--Sir Gawaine drew his sword; 126 The bird unseen scream'd loud for him to follow-- His soul the knight committed to our Lord, Stepp'd on--and fell ten yards into a hollow; No time had he the ground thus gain'd to note, Ere six strong hands laid gripe upon his throat.

It was a creek, three sides with rocks enclosed, 127 The fourth stretch'd, opening on the golden sand; Dull on the wave an anchor'd ship reposed; A boat with peaks of bra.s.s lay on the strand; And in that creek caroused the grisliest crew Thor ever nurst, or Rana[9] ever knew.

But little cared the knight for mortal foes. 128 From those strong hands he wrench'd himself away, Sprang to his feet and dealt so dour his blows, Cleft to the chin a grim Berseker lay, A Fin fell next, and next a giant Dane-- "Ten thousand pardons!" said the bland Gawaine.