The Poetical Works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. M.P Part 64

Anew she kiss'd his brow, and at her smile Night and Creation brighten'd! He the while,

Stretch'd his vain arms, and clasp'd the mocking air, 64 And from the rapture woke![11]--All fiercely round Group savage forms, amidst the lurid glare Of lifted torches, red; fierce tongues resound, Discordant, clamouring hoa.r.s.e--as birds of prey Scared by man's footstep in some desolate bay.

Mild through the throng a bright-hair'd Virgin came, 65 And the roar hush'd;--while to the Virgin's breast Soft-cooing fled the Dove. His own great name Rang through the ranks behind; quick footsteps press'd (As through arm'd lines a warrior) to the spot, And to the King knelt radiant Lancelot.

Here for a while the wild and fickle song 66 Leaves the crown'd Seeker of the Silver Shield; Thy fates, O Gawaine, done to grievous wrong By the black guide perfidious, be reveal'd, Nearing, poor Knight, the Cannibalian shrine, Where Freya scents thee, and prepares to dine.

Left by a bride, and outraged by a raven, 67 One friend still shared the injured captive's lot; For, as the vessel left the Cymrian haven, The faithful hound, whom he had half forgot, Swam to the ship, clomb up the sides on board, Snarl'd at the Danes, and nestled by his lord.

The hirsute Captain, not displeased to see a 68 New _bonne bouche_ added to the destined roast His floating larder had prepared for Freya, Welcomed the dog, as Charon might a ghost; Allow'd the beast to share his master's platter, And daily eyed them both,--and thought them fatter!

Ev'n in such straits, the Knight of golden tongue 69 Confronts his foe with arguings just and sage, Whether in pearls from deeps Druidic strung, Or link'd synthetic from the Stagirite's page, Labouring to show him how absurd the notion, That roasting Gawaine would affect the Ocean.

But that enlighten'd though unlearned man, 70 Posed all the lore Druidical or Attic; "One truth," quoth he, "instructs the Sons of Ran (A seaman race are always democratic), That truth once known, all else is worthless lumber: 'THE GREATEST PLEASURE OF THE GREATEST NUMBER.'

"No pleasure like a Christian roasted slowly, 71 To Odin's greatest number can be given; The will of freemen to the G.o.ds is holy; The People's voice must be the voice of Heaven.

On selfish principles you chafe at capture, But what are private pangs to public rapture?

"You doubt that giving you as food for Freya 72 Will have much mark'd effect upon the seas; Let's grant you right:--all pleasure's in idea; If thousands think it, you the thousands please.

Your private interest must not be the guide, When interests clash majorities decide."

These doctrines, wise, and worthy of the race 73 From whose free notions modern freedom flows, Bore with such force of reasoning on the case, They left the Knight dumbfounded at the close; Foil'd in the weapons which he most had boasted, He felt sound logic proved he should be roasted.

Discreetly waiving farther conversations, 74 He, henceforth, silent lived his little hour; Indulged at times such soothing meditations, As, "Flesh is gra.s.s,"--and "Life is but a flower."

For men, like swans, have strains most edifying, They never think of till the time for dying.

And now at last, the fatal voyage o'er, 75 Sir Gawaine hears the joyous shout of "Land!"

Two Vikings lead him courteously on sh.o.r.e: A crowd as courteous wait him on the strand.

Fifes, viols, trumpets braying, screaming, strumming, Flatter his ears, and compliment his coming.

Right on the sh.o.r.e the gracious temple stands, 76 Form'd like a ship, and budded but of log; Thither at once the hospitable bands Lead the grave Knight and unsuspicious dog, Which, greatly pleased to walk on land once more, Swells with unprescient bark the tuneful roar.

Six Priests and one tall Priestess clothed in white, 77 Advance--and meet them at the porch divine; With seven loud shrieks, they pounce upon the Knight,-- Whisk'd by the Priests behind the inmost shrine, While the tall Priestess asks the congregation To come at dawn to witness the oblation.

Though somewhat vex'd at this so brief delay-- 78 Yet as the rites, in truth, required preparing, The flock obedient took themselves away;-- Meanwhile the Knight was on the Idol staring, Not without wonder at the tastes terrestrial Which in that image hail'd a shape celestial.

Full thirty ells in height--the G.o.ddess stood 79 Based on a column of the bones of men, Daub'd was her face with clots of human blood, Her jaws as wide as is a tiger's den; With giant fangs as strong and huge as those That cranch the reeds, through which the sea-horse goes.

"Right reverend Sir," quoth he of golden tongue, 80 "A most majestic gentlewoman this!

Is it the Freya,[12] whom your scalds have sung, G.o.ddess of love and sweet connubial bliss?

If so--despite her very n.o.ble carriage, Her charms are scarce what youth desires in marriage."

"Stranger," said one who seem'd the hierarch-priest-- 81 "In that sublime, symbolical creation, The outward image but conveys the least Of Freya's claims on human veneration-- But (thine own heart if Love hath ever glow'd in), Thou'lt own that Love is quite as fierce as Odin!

"Hence, as the cause of full one half our quarrels, 82 Freya with Odin shares the rites of blood;-- In this--thou seest a hidden depth of morals, But by the vulgar little understood;-- We do not roast thee in an idle frolic!

But as a type mysterious and symbolic."

The Hierarch motions to the priests around, 83 They bind the victim to the Statue's base, Then, to the Knight they link the wondering hound, Some three yards distant--looking face to face.

"One word," said Gawaine--"ere your worships quit us, How is it meant that Freya is to eat us?"

"Stranger," replied the Priest, "albeit we hold 84 Such questions idle, and perhaps profane; Yet much the wise will pardon to the bold-- When what they ask 'tis easy to explain-- Still typing Truth, and shaped with sacred art, We place a furnace in the statue's heart.

"That furnace heated by mechanic laws 85 Which G.o.ds to priests for G.o.dlike ends permit, We lay the victim bound across the jaws, And let him slowly turn upon a spit; The jaws--(when done to what we think their liking) Close;--all is over:--The effect is striking!"

At that recital, made in tone complacent, 86 The frozen Knight stared speechless and aghast, Stared on those jaws to which he was subjacent, And felt the grinders cranch on their repast.

Meanwhile the Priest said--"Keep your spirits up, And ere I go, say when you'd like to sup?"

"Sup!" falter'd out the melancholy Knight, 87 "Sup! pious Sir--no trouble there, I pray!

Good though I grant my natural appet.i.te, The thought of Freya's takes it all away: As for the dog--poor, unenlighten'd glutton, Blind to the future,--let him have his mutton."

'Tis night: behold the dog and man alone! 88 The man hath said his thirtieth _noster pater_, The dog has supp'd, and having pick'd his bone (The meat was salted), feels a wish for water; Puts out in vain a reconnoitring paw, Feels the cord, smells it, and begins to gnaw.

Abash'd Philosophy, that dog survey! 89 Thou call'st on freemen--bah! expand thy scope; "_Aide-toi toi-meme, et Dieu t'aidera!_"

Doth thraldom bind thee?--gnaw thyself the rope.-- Whatever Laws, and Kings, and States may be; Wise men in earnest can be always free.

By a dim lamp upon the altar stone 90 Sir Gawaine mark'd the inventive work canine; "Cords bind us both--the dog has gnaw'd his own; O Dog skoinophagous[13]--a tooth for mine!-- And both may 'scape that too-refining G.o.ddess Who roasts to types what Nature meant for bodies."

Sir Gawaine calls the emanc.i.p.ated hound, 91 And strives to show his own illegal ties; Explaining how free dogs, themselves unbound, With all who would be free should fraternize-- The dog look'd puzzled, lick'd the fetter'd hand, p.r.i.c.k'd up his ears--but would not understand.

The unhappy Knight perceived the hope was o'er, 92 And did again to fate his soul resign; When hark! a footstep, and an opening door, And lo, once more, the Hierarch of the shrine, The dog his growl at Gawaine's whisper ceased, And dog and Knight, both silent, watch'd the priest.

The subtle captive saw with much content 93 No sacred comrades had that reverend man; Beneath a load of sacred charcoal bent, The Priest approach'd; when Gawaine thus began: "It shames me much to see you thus bent double, And feel myself the cause of so much trouble.

"Doth Freya's kitchen, ventrical and holy, 94 Afford no meaner scullion to prepare The festive rites?--on you depends it wholly To heat the oven and to dress the fare?"

"To hands less pure are given the outward things, To Hierarchs only, the interior springs,"

Replied the Priest--"and till my task be o'er, 95 All else intruding, wrath divine incur."

Sir Gawaine heard and not a sentence more Sir Gawaine said, than--"Up and seize him, Sir,"

Sprung at the word, the dog; and in a trice Griped the Priest's throat and lock'd it like a vice.

"Pardon, my sacred friend," then quoth the Knight, 96 "You are not strangled from an idle frolic, When bit the biter, you'll confess the bite Is full of sense, mordacious but symbolic; In roasting men, O culinary brother, Learn this grand truth--'one turn deserves another!'"

Extremely pleased, the oratoric Knight 97 Regain'd the vantage he had lost so long, For sore, till then, had been his just despite That Northern wit should foil his golden tongue.

Now, in debate how proud was his condition, The opponent posed and by his own position!

Therefore, with more than his habitual breeding, 98 Resumed benignantly the bland Gawaine, While much the Priest, against the dog's proceeding With stifling gasps protested, but in vain-- "Friend--(softly, dog; so--ho!) Thou must confess Our selfish interests bid us coalesce.--

"Unknit these cords; and, once unloosed the knot, 99 I pledge my troth to call the hound away, If thou accede--a show of hands! if not _That_ dog at least I fear must have his day."

High in the air, both hands at once appear!

"Carried, _nem. con._,--Dog, fetch him,--gently, here!"

Not without much persuasion yields the hound! 100 Loosens the throat, to gripe the sacred vest.

"Priest," quoth Gawaine, "remember, but a sound, And straight the dog--let fancy sketch the rest!"

The Priest, by fancy too dismay'd already, Fumbles the knot with fingers far from steady.

Hoa.r.s.e, while he fumbles, growls the dog suspicious, 101 Not liking such close contact to his Lord (The best of friends are sometimes too officious, And grudge all help save that themselves afford).

His hands set free, the Knight a.s.sists the Priest, And, _finis, funis_, stands at last released.

True to his word--and party coalitions, 102 The Knight then kicks aside the dog, of course; Salutes the foe, and states the new conditions The facts connected with the times enforce; All coalitions nat'rally denote The State-Metempsychosis--change of coat!