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Sordello/Book the Fifth

BOOK THE FIFTH.

Is it the same Sordello in the dusk As at the dawn?—merely a perished husk Now, that arose a power fit to build Up Rome again? The proud conception chilled So soon? Ay, watch that latest dream of thine —A Rome indebted to no Palatine— Drop arch by arch, Sordello! Art possessed Of thy wish now, rewarded for thy quest To-day among Ferrara's squalid sons? Are this and this and this the shining ones Meet for the Shining City? Sooth to say, Your favoured tenantry pursue their way After a fashion! This companion slips On the smooth causey, t' other blinkard trips At his mooned sandal. "Leave to lead the brawls "Here i' the atria?" No, friend! He that sprawls On aught but a stibadium... what his dues Who puts the lustral vase to such an use? Oh, huddle up the day's disasters! March, Ye runagates, and drop thou, arch by arch, Rome!

Yet before they quite disband—a whim— Study mere shelter, now, for him, and him, Nay, even the worst,—just house them! Any cave Suffices: throw out earth! A loophole? Brave! They ask to feel the sun shine, see the grass Grow, hear the larks sing? Dead art thou, alas, And I am dead! But here's our son excels At hurdle-weaving any Scythian, fells Oak and devises rafters, dreams and shapes His dream into a door-post, just escapes The mystery of hinges. Lie we both Perdue another age. The goodly growth Of brick and stone! Our building-pelt was rough, But that descendant's garb suits well enough A portico-contriver. Speed the years— What 's time to us? At last, a city rears Itself! nay, enter—what's the grave to us? Lo, our forlorn acquaintance carry thus The head! Successively sewer, forum, cirque— Last age, an aqueduct was counted work, But now they tire the artificer upon Blank alabaster, black obsidion, —Careful, Jove's face be duly fulgurant, And mother Venus' kiss-creased nipples pant Back into pristine pulpiness, ere fixed Above the baths. What difference betwixt This Rome and ours—resemblance what, between That scurvy dumb-show and this pageant sheen— These Romans and our rabble? Use thy wit! The work marched: step by step,—a workman fit Took each, nor too fit,—to one task, one time,— No leaping o'er the petty to the prime, When just the substituting osier lithe For brittle bulrush, sound wood for soft withe, To further loam-and-roughcast-work a stage,— Exacts an architect, exacts an age: No tables of the Mauritanian tree For men whose maple log 's their luxury! That way was Rome built. "Better" (say you) "merge "At once all workmen in the demiurge, "All epochs in a lifetime, every task "In one!" So should the sudden city bask I' the day—while those we 'd feast there, want the knack Of keeping fresh-chalked gowns from speck and brack, Distinguish not rare peacock from vile swan, Nor Mareotic juice from Cæcuban. "Enough of Rome! 'T was happy to conceive "Rome on a sudden, nor shall fate bereave "Me of that credit: for the rest, her spite "Is an old story—serves my folly right "By adding yet another to the dull "List of abortions—things proved beautiful "Could they be done, Sordello cannot do."

He sat upon the terrace, plucked and threw The powdery aloe-cusps away, saw shift Rome's walls, and drop arch after arch, and drift Mist-like afar those pillars of all stripe, Mounds of all majesty. "Thou archetype, "Last of my dreams and loveliest, depart!"

And then a low voice wound into his heart: "Sordello!" (low as some old Pythoness Conceding to a Lydian King's distress The cause of his long error—one mistake Of her past oracle) "Sordello, wake! "God has conceded two sights to a man— "One, of men's whole work, time's completed plan, "The other, of the minute's work, man's first "Step to the plan's completeness: what's dispersed "Save hope of that supreme step which, descried "Earliest, was meant still to remain untried "Only to give you heart to take your own "Step, and there stay, leaving the rest alone? "Where is the vanity? Why count as one "The first step, with the last step? What is gone "Except Rome's aëry magnificence, "That last step you 'd take first?—an evidence "You were God: be man now! Let those glances fall! "The basis, the beginning step of all, "Which proves you just a man—is that gone too? "Pity to disconcert one versed as you "In fate's ill-nature! but its full extent "Eludes Sordello, even: the veil rent, "Read the black writing—that collective man "Outstrips the individual. Who began "The acknowledged greatnesses? Ay, your own art "Shall serve us: put the poet's mimes apart— "Close with the poet's self, and lo, a dim "Yet too plain form divides itself from him! "Alcamo's song enmeshes the lulled Isle, "Woven into the echoes left erewhile "By Nina, one soft web of song: no more "Turning his name, then, flower-like o'er and o'er! "An elder poet in the younger's place; "Nina's the strength, but Alcamo's the grace: "Each neutralizes each then! Search your fill; "You get no whole and perfect Poet—still "New Ninas, Alcamos, till time's mid-night "Shrouds all—or better say, the shutting light "Of a forgotten yesterday. Dissect "Every ideal workman—(to reject "In favour of your fearful ignorance "The thousand phantasms eager to advance, "And point you but to those within your reach)— "Were you the first who brought—(in modern speech) "The Multitude to be materialized? "That loose eternal unrest—who devised "An apparition i' the midst? The rout "Was checked, a breathless ring was formed about "That sudden flower: get round at any risk "The gold-rough pointel, silver-blazing disk "O' the lily! Swords across it! Reign thy reign "And serve thy frolic service, Charlemagne! "—The very child of over-joyousness, "Unfeeling thence, strong therefore: Strength by stress "Of Strength comes of that forehead confident, "Those widened eyes expecting heart's content, "A calm as out of just-quelled noise; nor swerves "For doubt, the ample cheek in gracious curves "Abutting on the upthrust nether lip: "He wills, how should he doubt then? Ages slip: "Was it Sordello pried into the work "So far accomplished, and discovered lurk "A company amid the other clans, "Only distinct in priests for castellans "And popes for suzerains (their rule confessed "Its rule, their interest its interest, "Living for sake of living—there an end,— "Wrapt in itself, no energy to spend "In making adversaries or allies)— "Dived you into its capabilities "And dared create, out of that sect, a soul "Should turn a multitude, already whole, "Into its body? Speak plainer! Is 't so sure "God's church lives by a King's investiture? "Look to last step! A staggering—a shock— "What 's mere sand is demolished, while the rock "Endures: a column of black fiery dust "Blots heaven—that help was prematurely thrust "Aside, perchance!—but air clears, nought 's erased "Of the true outline. Thus much being firm based, "The other was a scaffold. See him stand "Buttressed upon his mattock, Hildebrand "Of the huge brain-mask welded ply o'er ply "As in a forge; it buries either eye "White and extinct, that stupid brow; teeth clenched, "The neck tight-corded, too, the chin deep-trenched, "As if a cloud enveloped him while fought "Under its shade, grim prizers, thought with thought "At dead-lock, agonizing he, until "The victor thought leap radiant up, and Will, "The slave with folded arms and drooping lids "They fought for, lean forth flame-like as it bids. "Call him no flower—a mandrake of the earth, "Thwarted and dwarfed and blasted in its birth, "Rather,—a fruit of suffering's excess, "Thence feeling, therefore stronger: still by stress "Of Strength, work Knowledge! Full three hundred years "Have men to wear away in smiles and tears "Between the two that nearly seemed to touch, "Observe you! quit one workman and you clutch "Another, letting both their trains go by— "The actors-out of either's policy, "Heinrich, on this hand, Otho, Barbaross, "Carry the three Imperial crowns across, "Aix' Iron, Milan's Silver, and Rome's Gold— "While Alexander, Innocent uphold "On that, each Papal key—but, link on link, "Why is it neither chain betrays a chink? "How coalesce the small and great? Alack, "For one thrust forward, fifty such fall back! "Do the popes coupled there help Gregory "Alone? Hark—from the hermit Peter's cry "At Claremont, down to the first serf that says "Friedrich 's no liege of his while he delays "Getting the Pope's curse off him! The Crusade— "Or trick of breeding Strength by other aid "Than Strength, is safe. Hark—from the wild harangue "Of Vimmercato, to the carroch's clang "Yonder! The League—or trick of turning Strength "Against Pernicious Strength, is safe at length. "Yet hark—from Mantuan Albert making cease "The fierce ones, to Saint Francis preaching peace "Yonder! God's Truce—or trick to supersede "The very Use of Strength, is safe. Indeed "We trench upon the future. Who is found "To take next step, next age—trail o'er the ground— "Shall I say, gourd-like?—not the flower's display "Nor the root's prowess, but the plenteous way "O' the plant—produced by joy and sorrow, whence "Unfeeling and yet feeling, strongest thence? "Knowledge by stress of merely Knowledge? No— "E'en were Sordello ready to forego "His life for this, 't were overleaping work "Some one has first to do, howe'er it irk, "Nor stray a foot's breadth from the beaten road. "Who means to help must still support the load "Hildebrand lifted—'why hast Thou,' he groaned, "`Imposed on me a burthen, Paul had moaned, "'And Moses dropped beneath?' Much done—and yet "Doubtless that grandest task God ever set "On man, left much to do: at his arm's wrench, "Charlemagne's scaffold fell; but pillars blench "Merely, start back again—perchance have been "Taken for buttresses: crash every screen, "Hammer the tenons better, and engage "A gang about your work, for the next age "Or two, of Knowledge, part by Strength and part "By Knowledge! Then, indeed, perchance may start "Sordello on his race—would time divulge "Such secrets! If one step's awry, one bulge "Calls for correction by a step we thought "Got over long since, why, till that is wrought, "No progress! And the scaffold in its turn "Becomes, its service o'er, a thing to spurn. "Meanwhile, if your half-dozen years of life "In store dispose you to forego the strife, "Who takes exception? Only bear in mind "Ferrara 's reached, Goito 's left behind: "As you then were, as half yourself, desist! "—The warrior-part of you may, an it list, "Finding real faulchions difficult to poise, "Fling them afar and taste the cream of joys "By wielding such in fancy,—what is bard "Of you may spurn the vehicle that marred "Elys so much, and in free fancy glut "His sense, yet write no verses—you have but "To please yourself for law, and once could please "What once appeared yourself, by dreaming these "Rather than doing these, in days gone by. "But all is changed the moment you descry "Mankind as half yourself,—then, fancy's trade "Ends once and always: how may half evade "The other half? men are found half of you. "Out of a thousand helps, just one or two "Can be accomplished presently: but flinch "From these (as from the faulchion, raised an inch, "Elys, described a couplet) and make proof "Of fancy,—then, while one half lolls aloof "I' the vines, completing Rome to the tip-top— "See if, for that, your other half will stop "A tear, begin a smile! The rabble's woes, "Ludicrous in their patience as they chose "To sit about their town and quietly "Be slaughtered,—the poor reckless soldiery, "With their ignoble rhymes on Richard, how "'Polt-foot,' sang they, 'was in a pitfall now,' "Cheering each other from the engine-mounts,— "That crippled spawling idiot who recounts "How, lopped of limbs, he lay, stupid as stone, "Till the pains crept from out him one by one, "And wriggles round the archers on his head "To earn a morsel of their chestnut bread,— "And Cino, always in the self-same place "Weeping; beside that other wretch's case, "Eyepits to ear, one gangrene since he plied "The engine in his coat of raw sheep's hide "A double watch in the noon sun; and see "Lucchino, beauty, with the favours free, "Trim hacqueton, spruce beard and scented hair, "Campaigning it for the first time—cut there "In two already, boy enough to crawl "For latter orpine round the southern wall, "Tomà, where Richard 's kept, because that whore "Marfisa, the fool never saw before, "Sickened for flowers this wearisomest siege: "And Tiso's wife—men liked their pretty liege, "Cared for her least of whims once,—Berta, wed "A twelvemonth gone, and, now poor Tiso's dead, "Delivering herself of his first child "On that chance heap of wet filth, reconciled "To fifty gazers!"—(Here a wind below Made moody music augural of woe From the pine barrier)—"What if, now the scene "Draws to a close, yourself have really been "—You, plucking purples in Goito's moss "Like edges of a trabea (not to cross "Your consul-humour) or dry aloe-shafts "For fasces, at Ferrara—he, fate wafts, "This very age, her whole inheritance `Of opportunities? Yet you advance "Upon the last! Since talking is your trade, "There 's Salinguerra left you to persuade: "Fail! then"—

"No—no—which latest chance secure!" Leaped up and cried Sordello: "this made sure, "The past were yet redeemable; its work "Was—help the Guelfs, whom I, howe'er it irk, "Thus help!" He shook the foolish aloe-haulm Out of his doublet, paused, proceeded calm To the appointed presence. The large head Turned on its socket; "And your spokesman," said The large voice, "is Elcorte's happy sprout? "Few such"—(so finishing a speech no doubt Addressed to Palma, silent at his side) "—My sober councils have diversified. "Elcorte's son! good: forward as you may, "Our lady's minstrel with so much to say!" The hesitating sunset floated back, Rosily traversed in the wonted track The chamber, from the lattice o'er the girth Of pines, to the huge eagle blacked in earth Opposite,—outlined sudden, spur to crest, That solid Salinguerra, and caressed Palma's contour; 't was day looped back night's pall; Sordello had a chance left spite of all.

And much he made of the convincing speech Meant to compensate for the past and reach Through his youth's daybreak of unprofit, quite To his noon's labour, so proceed till night Leisurely! The great argument to bind Taurello with the Guelf Cause, body and mind, —Came the consummate rhetoric to that? Yet most Sordello's argument dropped flat Through his accustomed fault of breaking yoke, Disjoining him who felt from him who spoke. Was 't not a touching incident—so prompt A rendering the world its just accompt, Once proved its debtor? Who 'd suppose, before This proof, that he, Goito's god of yore, At duty's instance could demean himself So memorably, dwindle to a Guelf? Be sure, in such delicious flattery steeped, His inmost self at the out-portion peeped, Thus occupied; then stole a glance at those Appealed to, curious if her colour rose Or his lip moved, while he discreetly urged The need of Lombardy becoming purged At soonest of her barons; the poor part Abandoned thus, missing the blood at heart And spirit in brain, unseasonably off Elsewhere! But, though his speech was worthy scoff, Good-humoured Salinguerra, famed for tact And tongue, who, careless of his phrase, ne'er lacked The right phrase, and harangued Honorius dumb At his accession,—looked as all fell plumb To purpose and himself found interest In every point his new instructor pressed —Left playing with the rescript's white wax seal To scrutinize Sordello head and heel. He means to yield assent sure? No, alas! All he replied was, "What, it comes to pass "That poesy, sooner than politics, "Makes fade young hair?" To think such speech could fix Taurello!

Then a flash of bitter truth: So fantasies could break and fritter youth That he had long ago lost earnestness, Lost will to work, lost power to even express The need of working! Earth was turned a grave: No more occasions now, though he should crave Just one, in right of superhuman toil, To do what was undone, repair such spoil, Alter the past—nothing would give the chance! Not that he was to die; he saw askance Protract the ignominious years beyond To dream in—time to hope and time despond, Remember and forget, be sad, rejoice As saved a trouble; he might, at his choice, One way or other, idle life out, drop No few smooth verses by the way—for prop, A thyrsus, these sad people, all the same, Should pick up, and set store by,—far from blame, Plant o'er his hearse, convinced his better part Survived him. "Rather tear men out the heart "O' the truth!"—Sordello muttered, and renewed His propositions for the Multitude.

But Salinguerra, who at this attack Had thrown great breast and ruffling corslet back To hear the better, smilingly resumed His task; beneath, the carroch's warning boomed; He must decide with Tito; courteously He turned then, even seeming to agree With his admonisher—"Assist the Pope, "Extend Guelf domination, fill the scope "O' the Church, thus based on All, by All, for All— "Change Secular to Evangelical"— Echoing his very sentence: all seemed lost, When suddenly he looked up, laughingly almost, To Palma: "This opinion of your friend's— "For instance, would it answer Palma's ends? "Best, were it not, turn Guelf, submit our Strength"— (Here he drew out his baldric to its length) —"To the Pope's Knowledge—let our captive slip, "Wide to the walls throw ope our gates, equip "Azzo with... what I hold here! Who 'll subscribe "To a trite censure of the minstrel tribe "Henceforward? or pronounce, as Heinrich used, "'Spear-heads for battle, burr-heads for the joust!' "—When Constance, for his couplets, would promote "Alcamo, from a parti-coloured coat, "To holding her lord's stirrup in the wars. "Not that I see where couplet-making jars "With common sense: at Mantua I had borne "This chanted, better than their most forlorn "Of bull-baits,—that 's indisputable!"

Brave! Whom vanity nigh slew, contempt shall save! All 's at an end: a Troubadour suppose Mankind will class him with their friends or foes? A puny uncouth ailing vassal think The world and him bound in some special link? Abrupt the visionary tether burst. What were rewarded here, or what amerced If a poor drudge, solicitous to dream Deservingly, got tangled by his theme So far as to conceit the knack or gift Or whatsoe'er it be, of verse, might lift The globe, a lever like the hand and head Of—"Men of Action," as the Jongleurs said, —"The Great Men," in the people's dialect?

And not a moment did this scorn affect Sordello: scorn the poet? They, for once, Asking "what was," obtained a full response. Bid Naddo think at Mantua—he had but To look into his promptuary, put Finger on a set thought in a set speech: But was Sordello fitted thus for each Conjecture? Nowise; since within his soul, Perception brooded unexpressed and whole. A healthy spirit like a healthy frame Craves aliment in plenty—all the same, Changes, assimilates its aliment. Perceived Sordello, on a truth intent? Next day no formularies more you saw Than figs or olives in a sated maw. 'T is Knowledge, whither such perceptions tend; They lose themselves in that, means to an end, The many old producing some one new, A last unlike the first. If lies are true, The Caliph's wheel-work man of brass receives A meal, munched millet grains and lettuce leaves Together in his stomach rattle loose; You find them perfect next day to produce: But ne'er expect the man, on strength of that, Can roll an iron camel-collar flat Like Haroun's self! I tell you, what was stored Bit by bit through Sordello's life, outpoured That eve, was, for that age, a novel thing: And round those three the People formed a ring, Of visionary judges whose award He recognised in full—faces that barred Henceforth return to the old careless life, In whose great presence, therefore, his first strife For their sake must not be ignobly fought; All these, for once, approved of him, he thought, Suspended their own vengeance, chose await The issue of this strife to reinstate Them in the right of taking it—in fact He must be proved king ere they could exact Vengeance for such king's defalcation. Last, A reason why the phrases flowed so fast Was in his quite forgetting for a time Himself in his amazement that the rhyme Disguised the royalty so much: he there— And Salinguerra yet all-unaware Who was the lord, who liegeman!

"Thus I lay "On thine my spirit and compel obey "His lord,—my liegeman,—impotent to build "Another Rome, but hardly so unskilled "In what such builder should have been, as brook "One shame beyond the charge that I forsook "His function! Free me from that shame, I bend "A brow before, suppose new years to spend,— "Allow each chance, nor fruitlessly, recur— "Measure thee with the Minstrel, then, demur "At any crowd he claims! That I must cede "Shamed now, my right to my especial meed— "Confess thee fitter help the world than I "Ordained its champion from eternity, "Is much: but to behold thee scorn the post "I quit in thy behalf—to hear thee boast "What makes my own despair!" And while he rung The changes on this theme, the roof up-sprung, The sad walls of the presence-chamber died Into the distance, or embowering vied With far-away Goito's vine-frontier; And crowds of faces—(only keeping clear The rose-light in the midst, his vantage-ground To fight their battle from)—deep clustered round Sordello, with good wishes no mere breath, Kind prayers for him no vapour, since, come death Come life, he was fresh-sinewed every joint, Each bone new-marrowed as whom gods anoint Though mortal to their rescue. Now let sprawl The snaky volumes hither! Is Typhon all For Hercules to trample—good report From Salinguerra only to extort? "So was I" (closed he his inculcating A poet must be earth's essential king) "So was I, royal so, and if I fail, "'T is not the royalty, ye witness quail, "But one deposed who, caring not exert "Its proper essence, trifled malapert "With accidents instead—good things assigned "As heralds of a better thing behind— "And, worthy through display of these, put forth "Never the inmost all-surpassing worth "That constitutes him king precisely since "As yet no other spirit may evince "Its like: the power he took most pride to test, "Whereby all forms of life had been professed "At pleasure, forms already on the earth, "Was but a means to power beyond, whose birth "Should, in its novelty, be kingship's proof. "Now, whether he came near or kept aloof "The several forms he longed to imitate, "Not there the kingship lay, he sees too late. "Those forms, unalterable first as last, "Proved him her copier, not the protoplast "Of nature: what would come of being free, "By action to exhibit tree for tree, "Bird, beast, for beast and bird, or prove earth bore "One veritable man or woman more? "Means to an end, such proofs are: what the end? "Let essence, whatsoe'er it be, extend— "Never contract. Already you include "The multitude; then let the multitude "Include yourself; and the result were new: "Themselves before, the multitude turn you. "This were to live and move and have, in them, "Your being, and secure a diadem "You should transmit (because no cycle yearns "Beyond itself, but on itself returns) "When, the full sphere in wane, the world o'erlaid "Long since with you, shall have in turn obeyed "Some orb still prouder, some displayer, still "More potent than the last, of human will, "And some new king depose the old. Of such "Am I—whom pride of this elates too much? "Safe, rather say, 'mid troops of peers again; "I, with my words, hailed brother of the train "Deeds once sufficed: for, let the world roll back, "Who fails, through deeds howe'er diverse, retrack "My purpose still, my task? A teeming crust— "Air, flame, earth, wave at conflict! Then, needs must "Emerge some Calm embodied, these refer "The brawl to—yellow-bearded Jupiter? "No! Saturn; some existence like a pact "And protest against Chaos, some first fact "I' the faint of time. My deep of life, I know "Is unavailing e'en to poorly show"... (For here the Chief immeasurably yawned) . . . "Deeds in their due gradation till Song dawned— "The fullest effluence of the finest mind, "All in degree, no way diverse in kind "From minds about it, minds which, more or less, "Lofty or low, move seeking to impress "Themselves on somewhat; but one mind has climbed "Step after step, by just ascent sublimed. "Thought is the soul of act, and, stage by stage, "Soul is from body still to disengage "As tending to a freedom which rejects "Such help and incorporeally affects "The world, producing deeds but not by deeds, "Swaying, in others, frames itself exceeds, "Assigning them the simpler tasks it used "To patiently perform till Song produced "Acts, by thoughts only, for the mind: divest "Mind of e'en Thought, and, lo, God's unexpressed "Will draws above us! All then is to win "Save that. How much for me, then? where begin "My work? About me, faces! and they flock, "The earnest faces. What shall I unlock "By song? behold me prompt, whate'er it be, "To minister: how much can mortals see "Of Life? No more than so? I take the task "And marshal you Life's elemental masque, "Show Men, on evil or on good lay stress, "This light, this shade make prominent, suppress "All ordinary hues that softening blend "Such natures with the level. Apprehend "Which sinner is, which saint, if I allot "Hell, Purgatory, Heaven, a blaze or blot, "To those you doubt concerning! I enwomb "Some wretched Friedrich with his red-hot tomb; "Some dubious spirit, Lombard Agilulph "With the black chastening river I engulph! "Some unapproached Matilda I enshrine "With languors of the planet of decline— "These, fail to recognize, to arbitrate "Between henceforth, to rightly estimate "Thus marshalled in the masque! Myself, the while, "As one of you, am witness, shrink or smile "At my own showing! Next age—what 's to do? "The men and women stationed hitherto "Will I unstation, good and bad, conduct "Each nature to its farthest, or obstruct "At soonest, in the world: light, thwarted, breaks "A limpid purity to rainbow flakes, "Or shadow, massed, freezes to gloom: behold "How such, with fit assistance to unfold, "Or obstacles to crush them, disengage "Their forms, love, hate, hope, fear, peace make, war wage, "In presence of you all! Myself, implied "Superior now, as, by the platform's side, "I bade them do and suffer,—would last content "The world... no—that 's too far! I circumvent "A few, my masque contented, and to these "Offer unveil the last of mysteries— "Man's inmost life shall have yet freer play: "Once more I cast external things away, "And natures composite, so decompose "That"... Why, he writes Sordello!

"How I rose, "And how have you advanced! since evermore "Yourselves effect what I was fain before "Effect, what I supplied yourselves suggest, "What I leave bare yourselves can now invest. "How we attain to talk as brothers talk, "In half-words, call things by half-names, no balk "From discontinuing old aids. To-day "Takes in account the work of Yesterday: "Has not the world a Past now, its adept "Consults ere he dispense with or accept "New aids? a single touch more may enhance, "A touch less turn to insignificance "Those structures' symmetry the past has strewed "The world with, once so bare. Leave the mere rude "Explicit details! 't is but brother's speech "We need, speech where an accent's change gives each "The other's soul—no speech to understand "By former audience: need was then to expand, "Expatiate—hardly were we brothers! true— "Nor I lament my small remove from you, "Nor reconstruct what stands already. Ends "Accomplished turn to means: my art intends "New structure from the ancient: as they changed "The spoils of every clime at Venice, ranged "The horned and snouted Libyan god, upright "As in his desert, by some simple bright "Clay cinerary pitcher—Thebes as Rome, "Athens as Byzant rifled, till their Dome "From earth's reputed consummations razed "A seal, the all-transmuting Triad blazed "Above. Ah, whose that fortune? Ne'ertheless "E'en he must stoop contented to express "No tithe of what 's to say—the vehicle "Never sufficient: but his work is still "For faces like the faces that select "The single service I am bound effect,— "That bid me cast aside such fancies, bow "Taurello to the Guelf cause, disallow "The Kaiser's coming—which with heart, soul, strength, "I labour for, this eve, who feel at length "My past career's outrageous vanity, "And would, as its amends, die, even die "Now I first estimate the boon of life, "If death might win compliance—sure, this strife "Is right for once—the People my support."

My poor Sordello! what may we extort By this, I wonder? Palma's lighted eyes Turned to Taurello who, long past surprise, Began, "You love him—what you 'd say at large "Let me say briefly. First, your father's charge "To me, his friend, peruse: I guessed indeed "You were no stranger to the course decreed. "He bids me leave his children to the saints: "As for a certain project, he acquaints "The Pope with that, and offers him the best "Of your possessions to permit the rest "Go peaceably—to Ecelin, a stripe "Of soil the cursed Vicentines will gripe, "—To Alberic, a patch the Trevisan "Clutches already; extricate, who can, "Treville, Villarazzi, Puissolo, "Loria and Cartiglione!—all must go, "And with them go my hopes. 'T is lost, then! Lost "This eve, our crisis, and some pains it cost "Procuring; thirty years—as good I'd spent "Like our admonisher! But each his bent "Pursues: no question, one might live absurd "Oneself this while, by deed as he by word "Persisting to obtrude an influence where "'T is made account of, much as... nay, you fare "With twice the fortune, youngster!—I submit, "Happy to parallel my waste of wit "With the renowned Sordello's: you decide "A course for me. Romano may abide "Romano,—Bacchus! After all, what dearth "Of Ecelins and Alberics on earth? "Say there 's a prize in prospect, must disgrace "Betide competitors, unless they style "Themselves Romano? Were it worth my while "To try my own luck! But an obscure place "Suits me—there wants a youth to bustle, stalk "And attitudinize—some fight, more talk, "Most flaunting badges—how, I might make clear "Since Friedrich's very purposes lie here "—Here, pity they are like to lie! For me, "With station fixed unceremoniously "Long since, small use contesting; I am but "The liegeman—you are born the lieges: shut "That gentle mouth now! or resume your kin "In your sweet self; were Palma Ecelin "For me to work with! Could that neck endure "This bauble for a cumbrous garniture, "She should... or might one bear it for her? Stay— "I have not been so flattered many a day "As by your pale friend—Bacchus! The least help "Would lick the hind's fawn to a lion's whelp: "His neck is broad enough—a ready tongue "Beside: too writhled—but, the main thing, young— "I could... why, look ye!"

And the badge was thrown Across Sordello's neck: "This badge alone "Makes you Romano's Head—becomes superb "On your bare neck, which would, on mine, disturb "The pauldron," said Taurello. A mad act, Nor even dreamed about before—in fact, Not when his sportive arm rose for the nonce— But he had dallied overmuch, this once, With power: the thing was done, and he, aware The thing was done, proceeded to declare— (So like a nature made to serve, excel In serving, only feel by service well!) —That he would make Sordello that and more. "As good a scheme as any. What 's to pore "At in my face?" he asked—"ponder instead "This piece of news; you are Romano's Head! "One cannot slacken pace so near the goal, "Suffer my Azzo to escape heart-whole "This time! For you there 's Palma to espouse— "For me, one crowning trouble ere I house "Like my compeer."

On which ensued a strange And solemn visitation; there came change O'er every one of them; each looked on each: Up in the midst a truth grew, without speech. And when the giddiness sank and the haze Subsided, they were sitting, no amaze, Sordello with the baldric on, his sire Silent, though his proportions seemed aspire Momently; and, interpreting the thrill,— Night at its ebb,—Palma was found there still Relating somewhat Adelaide confessed A year ago, while dying on her breast,— Of a contrivance, that Vicenza night When Ecelin had birth. "Their convoy's flight, "Cut off a moment, coiled inside the flame "That wallowed like a dragon at his game "The toppling city through—San Biagio rocks! "And wounded lies in her delicious locks "Retrude, the frail mother, on her face, "None of her wasted, just in one embrace "Covering her child: when, as they lifted her, "Cleaving the tumult, mighty, mightier "And mightiest Taurello's cry outbroke, "Leapt like a tongue of fire that cleaves the smoke, "Midmost to cheer his Mantuans onward—drown "His colleague Ecelin's clamour, up and down "The disarray: failed Adelaide see then "Who was the natural chief, the man of men? "Outstripping time, her infant there burst swathe, "Stood up with eyes haggard beyond the scathe "From wandering after his heritage "Lost once and lost for aye: and why that rage, "That deprecating glance? A new shape leant "On a familiar shape—gloatingly bent "O'er his discomfiture; 'mid wreaths it wore, "Still one outflamed the rest—her child's before "'T was Salinguerra's for his child: scorn, hate, "Rage now might startle her when all too late! "Then was the moment!—rival's foot had spurned "Never that House to earth else! Sense returned— "The act conceived, adventured and complete, "They bore away to an obscure retreat "Mother and child—Retrude's self not slain" (Nor even here Taurello moved) "though pain "Was fled; and what assured them most 't was fled, "All pain, was, if they raised the pale hushed head "'T would turn this way and that, waver awhile, "And only settle into its old smile— "(Graceful as the disquieted water-flag "Steadying itself, remarked they, in the quag "On either side their path)—when suffered look "Down on her child. They marched: no sign once shook "The company's close litter of crossed spears "Till, as they reached Goito, a few tears "Slipped in the sunset from her long black lash, "And she was gone. So far the action rash; "No crime. They laid Retrude in the font, "Taurello's very gift, her child was wont "To sit beneath—constant as eve he came "To sit by its attendant girls the same "As one of them. For Palma, she would blend "With this magnific spirit to the end, "That ruled her first; but scarcely had she dared "To disobey the Adelaide who scared "Her into vowing never to disclose "A secret to her husband, which so froze "His blood at half-recital, she contrived "To hide from him Taurello's infant lived, "Lest, by revealing that, himself should mar "Romano's fortunes. And, a crime so far, "Palma received that action: she was told "Of Salinguerra's nature, of his cold "Calm acquiescence in his lot! But free "To impart the secret to Romano, she "Engaged to repossess Sordello of "His heritage, and hers, and that way doff "The mask, but after years, long years: while now, "Was not Romano's sign-mark on that brow?"

Across Taurello's heart his arms were locked: And when he did speak 't was as if he mocked The minstrel, "who had not to move," he said, "Nor stir—should fate defraud him of a shred "Of his son's infancy? much less his youth!" (Laughingly all this)—"which to aid, in truth, "Himself, reserved on purpose, had not grown "Old, not too old—'t was best they kept alone "Till now, and never idly met till now;" —Then, in the same breath, told Sordello how All intimations of this eve's event Were lies, for Friedrich must advance to Trent, Thence to Verona, then to Rome, there stop, Tumble the Church down, institute a-top The Alps a Prefecture of Lombardy: —"That 's now!—no prophesying what may be "Anon, with a new monarch of the clime, "Native of Gesi, passing his youth's prime "At Naples. Tito bids my choice decide "On whom..."

"Embrace him, madman!" Palma cried, Who through the laugh saw sweat-drops burst apace, And his lips blanching: he did not embrace Sordello, but he laid Sordello's hand On his own eyes, mouth, forehead.

Understand, This while Sordello was becoming flushed Out of his whiteness; thoughts rushed, fancies rushed; He pressed his hand upon his head and signed Both should forbear him. "Nay, the best 's behind!" Taurello laughed—not quite with the same laugh: "The truth is, thus we scatter, ay, like chaff "These Guelfs, a despicable monk recoils "From: nor expect a fickle Kaiser spoils "Our triumph!—Friedrich? Think you, I intend "Friedrich shall reap the fruits of blood I spend "And brain I waste? Think you, the people clap "Their hands at my out-hewing this wild gap "For any Friedrich to fill up? 'T is mine— "That 's yours: I tell you, towards some such design "Have I worked blindly, yes, and idly, yes, "And for another, yes—but worked no less "With instinct at my heart; I else had swerved, "While now—look round! My cunning has preserved "Samminiato—that 's a central place "Secures us Florence, boy,—in Pisa's case. "By land as she by sea; with Pisa ours, "And Florence, and Pistoia, one devours "The land at leisure! Gloriously dispersed— "Brescia, observe, Milan, Piacenza first "That flanked us (ah, you know not!) in the March; "On these we pile, as keystone of our arch, "Romagna and Bologna, whose first span "Covered the Trentine and the Valsugan; "Sofia's Egna by Bolgiano 's sure!"... So he proceeded: half of all this, pure Delusion, doubtless, nor the rest too true, But what was undone he felt sure to do, As ring by ring he wrung off, flung away The pauldron-rings to give his sword-arm play— Need of the sword now! That would soon adjust Aught wrong at present; to the sword intrust Sordello's whiteness, undersize: 't was plain He hardly rendered right to his own brain— Like a brave hound, men educate to pride Himself on speed or scent nor aught beside, As though he could not, gift by gift, match men! Palma had listened patiently: but when 'T was time expostulate, attempt withdraw Taurello from his child, she, without awe Took off his iron arms from, one by one, Sordello's shrinking shoulders, and, that done, Made him avert his visage and relieve Sordello (you might see his corslet heave The while) who, loose, rose—tried to speak, then sank: They left him in the chamber. All was blank. And even reeling down the narrow stair Taurello kept up, as though unaware Palma was by to guide him, the old device —Something of Milan—"how we muster thrice "The Torriani's strength there; all along "Our own Visconti cowed them"—thus the song Continued even while she bade him stoop, Thrid somehow, by some glimpse of arrow-loop, The turnings to the gallery below, Where he stopped short as Palma let him go. When he had sat in silence long enough Splintering the stone bench, braving a rebuff She stopped the truncheon; only to commence One of Sordello's poems, a pretence For speaking, some poor rhyme of "Elys' hair "And head that 's sharp and perfect like a pear, "So smooth and close are laid the few fine locks "Stained like pale honey oozed from topmost rocks "Sun-blanched the livelong summer"—from his worst Performance, the Goito, as his first: And that at end, conceiving from the brow And open mouth no silence would serve now, Went on to say the whole world loved that man And, for that matter, thought his face, tho' wan, Eclipsed the Count's—he sucking in each phrase As if an angel spoke. The foolish praise Ended, he drew her on his mailed knees, made Her face a framework with his hands, a shade, A crown, an aureole: there must she remain (Her little mouth compressed with smiling pain As in his gloves she felt her tresses twitch) To get the best look at, in fittest niche Dispose his saint. That done, he kissed her brow, —"Lauded her father for his treason now," He told her, "only, how could one suspect "The wit in him?—whose clansman, recollect, `Was ever Salinguerra—she, the same, "Romano and his lady—so, might claim "To know all, as she should"—and thus begun Schemes with a vengeance, schemes on schemes, "not one "Fit to be told that foolish boy," he said, "But only let Sordello Palma wed, "—Then!"

'T was a dim long narrow place at best: Midway a sole grate showed the fiery West, As shows its corpse the world's end some split tomb— A gloom, a rift of fire, another gloom, Faced Palma—but at length Taurello set Her free; the grating held one ragged jet Of fierce gold fire: he lifted her within The hollow underneath—how else begin Fate's second marvellous cycle, else renew The ages than with Palma plain in view? Then paced the passage, hands clenched, head erect, Pursuing his discourse; a grand unchecked Monotony made out from his quick talk And the recurring noises of his walk; —Somewhat too much like the o'ercharged assent Of two resolved friends in one danger blent, Who hearten each the other against heart; Boasting there 's nought to care for, when, apart The boaster, all 's to care for. He, beside Some shape not visible, in power and pride Approached, out of the dark, ginglingly near, Nearer, passed close in the broad light, his ear Crimson, eyeballs suffused, temples full-fraught, Just a snatch of the rapid speech you caught, And on he strode into the opposite dark, Till presently the harsh heel's turn, a spark I' the stone, and whirl of some loose embossed throng That crashed against the angle aye so long After the last, punctual to an amount Of mailed great paces you could not but count,— Prepared you for the pacing back again. And by the snatches you might ascertain That, Friedrich's Prefecture surmounted, left By this alone in Italy, they cleft Asunder, crushed together, at command Of none, were free to break up Hildebrand, Rebuild, he and Sordello, Charlemagne— But garnished, Strength with Knowledge, "if we deign "Accept that compromise and stoop to give "Rome law, the Cæsar's Representative." Enough, that the illimitable flood Of triumphs after triumphs, understood In its faint reflux (you shall hear) sufficed Young Ecelin for appanage, enticed Him on till, these long quiet in their graves, He found 't was looked for that a whole life's braves Should somehow be made good; so, weak and worn, Must stagger up at Milan, one grey morn Of the to-come, and fight his latest fight. But, Salinguerra's prophecy at height— He voluble with a raised arm and stiff, A blaring voice, a blazing eye, as if He had our very Italy to keep Or cast away, or gather in a heap To garrison the better—ay, his word Was, "run the cucumber into a gourd, "Drive Trent upon Apulia"—at their pitch Who spied the continents and islands which Grew mulberry leaves and sickles, in the map— (Strange that three such confessions so should hap To Palma, Dante spoke with in the clear Amorous silence of the Swooning-sphere,— Cunizza, as he called her! Never ask Of Palma more! She sat, knowing her task Was done, the labour of it,—for, success Concerned not Palma, passion's votaress.) Triumph at neight, and thus Sordello crowned— Above the passage suddenly a sound Stops speech, stops walk: back shrinks Taurello, bids With large involuntary asking lids, Palma interpret. "'T is his own foot-stamp— "Your hand! His summons! Nay, this idle damp "Befits not!" Out they two reeled dizzily. "Visconti 's strong at Milan," resumed he, In the old, somewhat insignificant way— (Was Palma wont, years afterward, to say) As though the spirit's flight, sustained thus far, Dropped at that very instant.

Gone they are— Palma, Taurello; Eglamor anon, Ecelin,—only Naddo 's never gone! —Labours, this moonrise, what the Master meant: "Is Squarcialupo speckled?—purulent, "I 'd say, but when was Providence put out? "He carries somehow handily about "His spite nor fouls himself!" Goito's vines Stand like a cheat detected—stark rough lines, The moon breaks through, a grey mean scale against The vault where, this eve's Maiden, thou remain'st Like some fresh martyr, eyes fixed—who can tell? As Heaven, now all 's at end, did not so well, Spite of the faith and victory, to leave Its virgin quite to death in the lone eve. While the persisting hermit-bee... ha! wait No longer: these in compass, forward fate!

title: Sordello/Book the Fifth


text: Portal talk:Sports

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/

title: Portal talk:Sports


text:
Page:Book of the Riviera.djvu/305

Rh Sitting on the honeycombed limestone rock, looking on that wreckage, and hearing the bells of all the church towers for miles around break out in musical call to the Angelus, this thought rises and fills the mind: Selfishness has but its day; self-sacrifice establishes an everlasting reign.

Monte Carlo occupies, as already said, a limestone headland, forming the horn of the bay opposite Monaco, but not projecting to anything like its extent into the sea. Between the two is the ravine through which a little stream decants into the harbour. Here is the Church of Ste. Devota. Devota was a girl brought up from childhood in the Christian faith. When she was quite young she was taken into the house of Eutyches, a senator, and probably a relation. Eutyches was not a Christian, but he was a kindly disposed man, and loathed the idea of persecution. On the publication of the edict of Diocletian in 303 against Christians, he sacrificed along with other senators; but the governor of Corsica, where he lived, hearing that he harboured in his house a little Christian maiden, had her brought forth and ordered that she should be executed. Her feet were tied together, and she was dragged over rough ground till she was cut and bruised through her entire body. Then she was stretched on the rack, and expired. According to the legend, as she died a white dove was seen fluttering over her; it expanded its pure wings, and, soaring, was lost in the deep blue of the sky. The following night a priest rescued the body, placed spices about it, laid it in a boat, and bade a boatman named Gratian carry it away. Then the white dove appeared again, skimming over the water; and so Gratian, following the bird, rowed till he reached Monaco, and

title: Page:Book of the Riviera.djvu/305


text:
Sordello/Book the Sixth

BOOK THE SIXTH.

The thought of Eglamor's least like a thought, And yet a false one, was, "Man shrinks to nought "If matched with symbols of immensity; "Must quail, forsooth, before a quiet sky "Or sea, too little for their quietude:" And, truly, somewhat in Sordello's mood Confirmed its speciousness, while eve slow sank Down the near terrace to the farther bank, And only one spot left from out the night Glimmered upon the river opposite— A breadth of watery heaven like a bay, A sky-like space of water, ray for ray, And star for star, one richness where they mixed As this and that wing of an angel, fixed, Tumultuary splendours folded in To die. Nor turned he till Ferrara's din (Say, the monotonous speech from a man's lip Who lets some first and eager purpose slip In a new fancy's birth—the speech keeps on Though elsewhere its informing soul be gone) —Aroused him, surely offered succour. Fate Paused with this eve; ere she precipitate Herself,—best put off new strange thoughts awhile, That voice, those large hands, that portentous smile,— What help to pierce the future as the past Lay in the plaining city?

And at last The main discovery and prime concern, All that just now imported him to learn, Truth's self, like yonder slow moon to complete Heaven, rose again, and, naked at his feet, Lighted his old life's every shift and change, Effort with counter-effort; nor the range Of each looked wrong except wherein it checked, Some other—which of these could he suspect, Prying into them by the sudden blaze? The real way seemed made up of all the ways— Mood after mood of the one mind in him; Tokens of the existence, bright or dim, Of a transcendent all-embracing sense Demanding only outward influence, A soul, in Palma's phrase, above his soul, Power to uplift his power,—such moon's control Over such sea-depths,—and their mass had swept Onward from the beginning and still kept Its course: but years and years the sky above Held none, and so, untasked of any love, His sensitiveness idled, now amort, Alive now, and, to sullenness or sport Given wholly up, disposed itself anew At every passing instigation, grew And dwindled at caprice, in foam-showers spilt, Wedge-like insisting, quivered now a gilt Shield in the sunshine, now a blinding race Of whitest ripples o'er the reef—found place For much display; not gathered up and, hurled Right from its heart, encompassing the world. So had Sordello been, by consequence, Without a function: others made pretence To strength not half his own, yet had some core Within, submitted to some moon, before Them still, superior still whate'er their force,— Were able therefore to fulfil a course, Nor missed life's crown, authentic attribute. To each who lives must be a certain fruit Of having lived in his degree,—a stage, Earlier or later in men's pilgrimage, To stop at; and to this the spirits tend Who, still discovering beauty without end, Amass the scintillations, make one star —Something unlike them, self-sustained, afar,— And meanwhile nurse the dream of being blest By winning it to notice and invest Their souls with alien glory, some one day Whene'er the nucleus, gathering shape alway, Round to the perfect circle—soon or late, According as themselves are formed to wait; Whether mere human beauty will suffice —The yellow hair and the luxurious eyes, Or human intellect seem best, or each Combine in some ideal form past reach On earth, or else some shade of these, some aim, Some love, hate even, take their place, the same, So to be served—all this they do not lose, Waiting for death to live, nor idly choose What must be Hell—a progress thus pursued Through all existence, still above the food That 's offered them, still fain to reach beyond The widened range, in virtue of their bond Of sovereignty. Not that a Palma's Love, A Salinguerra's Hate, would equal prove To swaying all Sordello: but why doubt Some love meet for such strength, some moon without Would match his sea?—or fear, Good manifest, Only the Best breaks faith?—Ah but the Best Somehow eludes us ever, still might be And is not! Crave we gems? No penury Of their material round us! Pliant earth And plastic flame—what balks the mage his birth —Jacinth in balls or lodestone by the block? Flinders enrich the strand, veins swell the rock; Nought more! Seek creatures? Life 's i' the tempest, thought Clothes the keen hill-top, mid-day woods are fraught With fervours: human forms are well enough! But we had hoped, encouraged by the stuff Profuse at nature's pleasure, men beyond These actual men!—and thus are over-fond In arguing, from Good—the Best, from force Divided—force combined, an ocean's course From this our sea whose mere intestine pants Might seem at times sufficient to our wants.

External power! If none be adequate, And he stand forth ordained (a prouder fate) Himself a law to his own sphere? "Remove "All incompleteness!" for that law, that love? Nay, if all other laws be feints,—truth veiled Helpfully to weak vision that had failed To grasp aught but its special want,—for lure, Embodied? Stronger vision could endure The unbodied want: no part—the whole of truth! The People were himself; nor, by the ruth At their condition, was he less impelled To alter the discrepancy beheld, Than if, from the sound whole, a sickly part Subtracted were transformed, decked out with art, Then palmed on him as alien woe—the Guelf To succour, proud that he forsook himself. All is himself; all service, therefore, rates Alike, nor serving one part, immolates The rest: but all in time! "That lance of yours "Makes havoc soon with Malek and his Moors, "That buckler 's lined with many a giant's beard "Ere long, our champion, be the lance upreared, "The buckler wielded handsomely as now! "But view your escort, bear in mind your vow, "Count the pale tracts of sand to pass ere that, "And, if you hope we struggle through the flat, "Put lance and buckler by! Next half-month lacks "Mere sturdy exercise of mace and axe "To cleave this dismal brake of prickly-pear "Which bristling holds Cydippe by the hair, "Lames barefoot Agathon: this felled, we 'll try "The picturesque achievements by and by— "Next life!"

Ay, rally, mock, O People, urge Your claims!—for thus he ventured, to the verge, Push a vain mummery which perchance distrust Of his fast-slipping resolution thrust Likewise: accordingly the Crowd—(as yet He had unconsciously contrived forget I' the whole, to dwell o' the points... one might assuage The signal horrors easier than engage With a dim vulgar vast unobvious grief Not to be fancied off, nor gained relief In brilliant fits, cured by a happy quirk, But by dim vulgar vast unobvious work To correspond...) this Crowd then, forth they stood. "And now content thy stronger vision, brood "On thy bare want; uncovered, turf by turf, "Study the corpse-face thro' the taint-worms' scurf!"

Down sank the People's Then; uprose their Now. These sad ones render service to! And how Piteously little must that service prove —Had surely proved in any case! for, move Each other obstacle away, let youth Become aware it had surprised a truth 'T were service to impart—can truth be seized, Settled forthwith, and, of the captive eased, Its captor find fresh prey, since this alit So happily, no gesture luring it, The earnest of a flock to follow? Vain, Most vain! a life to spend ere this he chain To the poor crowd's complacence: ere the crowd Pronounce it captured, he descries a cloud Its kin of twice the plume; which he, in turn, If he shall live as many lives, may learn How to secure: not else. Then Mantua called Back to his mind how certain bards were thralled —Buds blasted, but of breath more like perfume Than Naddo's staring nosegay's carrion bloom; Some insane rose that burnt heart out in sweets, A spendthrift in the spring, no summer greets; Some Dularete, drunk with truths and wine, Grown bestial, dreaming how become divine. Yet to surmount this obstacle, commence With the commencement, merits crowning! Hence Must truth be casual truth, elicited In sparks so mean, at intervals dispread So rarely, that 't is like at no one time Of the world's story has not truth, the prime Of truth, the very truth which, loosed, had hurled The world's course right, been really in the world —Content the while with some mean spark by dint Of some chance-blow, the solitary hint Of buried fire, which, rip earth's breast, would stream Sky-ward!

Sordello's miserable gleam Was looked for at the moment: he would dash This badge. and all it brought, to earth,—abash Taurello thus, perhaps persuade him wrest The Kaiser from his purpose,—would attest His own belief, in any case. Before He dashes it however, think once more! For, were that little, truly service? "Ay, "I' the end, no doubt; but meantime? Plain you spy "Its ultimate effect, but many flaws "Of vision blur each intervening cause. "Were the day's fraction clear as the life's sum "Of service, Now as filled as teems To-come "With evidence of good—nor too minute "A share to vie with evil! No dispute, "'T were fitliest maintain the Guelfs in rule: "That makes your life's work: but you have to school "Your day's work on these natures circumstanced "Thus variously, which yet, as each advanced "Or might impede the Guelf rule, must be moved "Now, for the Then's sake,—hating what you loved, "Loving old hatreds! Nor if one man bore "Brand upon temples while his fellow wore "The aureole, would it task you to decide: "But, portioned duly out, the future vied "Never with the unparcelled present! Smite "Or spare so much on warrant all so slight? "The present's complete sympathies to break, "Aversions bear with, for a future's sake "So feeble? Tito ruined through one speck, "The Legate saved by his sole lightish fleck? "This were work, true, but work performed at cost "Of other work; aught gained here, elsewhere lost. "For a new segment spoil an orb half-done? "Rise with the People one step, and sink—one? "Were it but one step, less than the whole face "Of things, your novel duty bids erase! "Harms to abolish! What, the prophet saith, "The minstrel singeth vainly then? Old faith, "Old courage, only born because of harms, "Were not, from highest to the lowest, charms? "Flame may persist; but is not glare as staunch? "Where the salt marshes stagnate, crystals branch; "Blood dries to crimson; Evil 's beautified "In every shape. Thrust Beauty then aside "And banish Evil! Wherefore? After all, "Is Evil a result less natural "Than Good? For overlook the seasons' strife "With tree and flower,—the hideous animal life, "(Of which who seeks shall find a grinning taunt "For his solution, and endure the vaunt "Of nature's angel, as a child that knows "Himself befooled, unable to propose "Aught better than the fooling)—and but care "For men, for the mere People then and there,— "In these, could you but see that Good and Ill "Claimed you alike! Whence rose their claim but still "From Ill, as fruit of Ill? What else could knit "You theirs but Sorrow? Any free from it "Were also free from you! Whose happiness "Could be distinguished in this morning's press "Of miseries?—the fool's who passed a gibe "'On thee,' jeered he, `so wedded to thy tribe, "`Thou carriest green and yellow tokens in "'Thy very face that thou art Ghibellin!' "Much hold on you that fool obtained! Nay mount "Yet higher—and upon men's own account "Must Evil stay: for, what is joy?—to heave "Up one obstruction more, and common leave "What was peculiar, by such act destroy "Itself; a partial death is every joy; "The sensible escape, enfranchisement "Of a sphere's essence: once the vexed—content, "The cramped—at large, the growing circle—round, "All 's to begin again—some novel bound "To break, some new enlargement to entreat; "The sphere though larger is not more complete. "Now for Mankind's experience: who alone "Might style the unobstructed world his own? "Whom palled Goito with its perfect things? "Sordello's self: whereas for Mankind springs "Salvation by each hindrance interposed. "They climb; life's view is not at once disclosed "To creatures caught up, on the summit left, "Heaven plain above them, yet of wings bereft: "But lower laid, as at the mountain's foot. "So, range on range, the girdling forests shoot "'Twixt your plain prospect and the throngs who scale "Height after height, and pierce mists, veil by veil, "Heartened with each discovery; in their soul, "The Whole they seek by Parts—but, found that Whole, "Could they revert, enjoy past gains? The space "Of time you judge so meagre to embrace "The Parts were more than plenty, once attained "The Whole, to quite exhaust it: nought were gained "But leave to look—not leave to do: Beneath "Soon sates the looker—look Above, and Death "Tempts ere a tithe of Life be tasted. Live "First, and die soon enough, Sordello! Give "Body and spirit the first right they claim, "And pasture soul on a voluptuous shame "That you, a pageant-city's denizen, "Are neither vilely lodged midst Lombard men— "Can force joy out of sorrow, seem to truck "Bright attributes away for sordid muck, "Yet manage from that very muck educe "Gold; then subject nor scruple, to your cruce "The world's discardings! Though real ingots pay "Your pains, the clods that yielded them are clay "To all beside,—would clay remain, though quenched "Your purging-fire; who 's robbed then? Had you wrenched "An ampler treasure forth!—As 't is, they crave "A share that ruins you and will not save "Them. Why should sympathy command you quit "The course that makes your joy, nor will remit "Their woe? Would all arrive at joy? Reverse "The order (time instructs you) nor coerce "Each unit till, some predetermined mode, "The total be emancipate; men's road "Is one, men's times of travel many; thwart "No enterprising soul's precocious start "Before the general march! If slow or fast "All straggle up to the same point at last, "Why grudge your having gained, a month ago, "The brakes at balm-shed, asphodels in blow, "While they were landlocked? Speed their Then, but how "This badge would suffer you improve your Now!"

His time of action for, against, or with Our world (I labour to extract the pith Of this his problem) grew, that even-tide, Gigantic with its power of joy, beside The world's eternity of impotence To profit though at his whole joy's expense. "Make nothing of my day because so brief? "Rather make more: instead of joy, use grief "Before its novelty have time subside! "Wait not for the late savour, leave untried "Virtue, the creaming honey-wine, quick squeeze "Vice like a biting spirit from the lees "Of life! Together let wrath, hatred, lust, "All tyrannies in every shape, be thrust "Upon this Now, which time may reason out "As mischiefs, far from benefits, no doubt; "But long ere then Sordello will have slipt "Away; you teach him at Goito's crypt, "There 's a blank issue to that fiery thrill. "Stirring, the few cope with the many, still: "So much of sand as, quiet, makes a mass "Unable to produce three tufts of grass, "Shall, troubled by the whirlwind, render void "The whole calm glebe's endeavour: be employed! "And e'en though somewhat smart the Crowd for this, "Contribute each his pang to make your bliss, "'T is but one pang—one blood-drop to the bowl "Which brimful tempts the sluggish asp uncowl "At last, stains ruddily the dull red cape, "And, kindling orbs grey as the unripe grape "Before, avails forthwith to disentrance "The portent, soon to lead a mystic dance "Among you! For, who sits alone in Rome? "Have those great hands indeed hewn out a home, "And set me there to live? Oh life, life-breath, "Life-blood,—ere sleep, come travail, life ere death! "This life stream on my soul, direct, oblique, "But always streaming! Hindrances? They pique: "Helps? such... but why repeat, my soul o'ertops "Each height, then every depth profoundlier drops? "Enough that I can live, and would live! Wait "For some transcendent life reserved by Fate "To follow this? Oh, never! Fate, I trust "The same, my soul to; for, as who flings dust, "Perchance (so facile was the deed) she chequed "The void with these materials to affect "My soul diversely: these consigned anew "To nought by death, what marvel if she threw "A second and superber spectacle "Before me? What may serve for sun, what still "Wander a moon above me? What else wind "About me like the pleasures left behind, "And how shall some new flesh that is not flesh "Cling to me? What 's new laughter? Soothes the fresh "Sleep like sleep? Fate 's exhaustless for my sake "In brave resource: but whether bids she slake "My thirst at this first rivulet, or count "No draught worth lip save from some rocky fount "Above i' the clouds, while here she 's provident "Of pure loquacious pearl, the soft tree-tent "Guards, with its face of reate and sedge, nor fail "The silver globules and gold-sparkling grail "At bottom? Oh, 't were too absurd to slight "For the hereafter the to-day's delight! "Quench thirst at this, then seek next well-spring: wear "Home-lilies ere strange lotus in my hair! "Here is the Crowd, whom I with freest heart "Offer to serve, contented for my part "To give life up in service,—only grant "That I do serve; if otherwise, why want "Aught further of me? If men cannot choose "But set aside life, why should I refuse "The gift? I take it—I, for one, engage "Never to falter through my pilgrimage— "Nor end it howling that the stock or stone "Were enviable, truly: I, for one, "Will praise the world, you style mere anteroom "To palace—be it so! shall I assume "—My foot the courtly gait, my tongue the trope, "My mouth the smirk, before the doors fly ope "One moment? What? with guarders row on row, "Gay swarms of varletry that come and go, "Pages to dice with, waiting-girls unlace "The plackets of, pert claimants help displace, "Heart-heavy suitors get a rank for,—laugh "At yon sleek parasite, break his own staff "'Cross Beetle-brows the Usher's shoulder,—why "Admitted to the presence by and by, "Should thought of having lost these make me grieve "Among new joys I reach, for joys I leave? "Cool citrine-crystals, fierce pyropus-stone, "Are floor-work there! But do I let alone "That black-eyed peasant in the vestibule "Once and for ever?—Floor-work? No such fool! "Rather, were heaven to forestall earth, I 'd say "I, is it, must be blest? Then, my own way "Bless me! Giver firmer arm and fleeter foot, "I 'll thank you: but to no mad wings transmute "These limbs of mine—our greensward was so soft! "Nor camp I on the thunder-cloud aloft: "We feel the bliss distinctlier, having thus "Engines subservient, not mixed up with us. "Better move palpably through heaven: nor, freed "Of flesh, forsooth, from space to space proceed "'Mid flying synods of worlds! No: in heaven's marge "Show Titan still, recumbent o'er his targe "Solid with stars—the Centaur at his game, "Made tremulously out in hoary flame!

"Life! Yet the very cup whose extreme dull "Dregs, even, I would quaff, was dashed, at full, "Aside so oft; the death I fly, revealed "So oft a better life this life concealed, "And which sage, champion, martyr, through each path "Have hunted fearlessly—the horrid bath, "The crippling-irons and the fiery chair. "'T was well for them; let me become aware "As they, and I relinquish life, too! Let "What masters life disclose itself! Forget "Vain ordinances, I have one appeal— "I feel, am what I feel, know what I feel; "So much is truth to me. What Is, then? Since "One object, viewed diversely, may evince "Beauty and ugliness—this way attract, "That way repel,—why gloze upon the fact? "Why must a single of the sides be right? "What bids choose this and leave the opposite? "Where 's abstract Right for me?—in youth endued "With Right still present, still to be pursued, "Thro' all the interchange of circles, rife "Each with its proper law and mode of life, "Each to be dwelt at ease in: where, to sway "Absolute with the Kaiser, or obey "Implicit with his serf of fluttering heart, "Or, like a sudden thought of God's, to start "Up, Brutus in the presence, then go shout "That some should pick the unstrung jewels out— "Each, well!"

And, as in moments when the past Gave partially enfranchisement, he cast Himself quite through mere secondary states Of his soul's essence, little loves and hates, Into the mid deep yearnings overlaid By these; as who should pierce hill, plain, grove, glade, And on into the very nucleus probe That first determined there exist a globe. As that were easiest, half the globe dissolved, So seemed Sordello's closing-truth evolved By his flesh-half's break-up; the sudden swell Of his expanding soul showed Ill and Well, Sorrow and Joy, Beauty and Ugliness, Virtue and Vice, the Larger and the Less, All qualities, in fine, recorded here, Might be but modes of Time and this one sphere, Urgent on these, but not of force to bind Eternity, as Time—as Matter—Mind, If Mind, Eternity, should choose assert Their attributes within a Life: thus girt With circumstance, next change beholds them cinct Quite otherwise—with Good and Ill distinct, Joys, sorrows, tending to a like result— Contrived to render easy, difficult, This or the other course of... what new bond In place of flesh may stop their flight beyond Its new sphere, as that course does harm or good To its arrangements. Once this understood, As suddenly he felt himself alone, Quite out of Time and this world: all was known. What made the secret of his past despair? —Most imminent when he seemed most aware Of his own self-sufficiency: made mad By craving to expand the power he had, And not new power to be expanded?—just This made it; Soul on Matter being thrust, Joy comes when so much Soul is wreaked in Time On Matter: let the Soul's attempt sublime Matter beyond the scheme and so prevent By more or less that deed's accomplishment, And Sorrow follows: Sorrow how avoid? Let the employer match the thing employed, Fit to the finite his infinity, And thus proceed for ever, in degree Changed but in kind the same, still limited To the appointed circumstance and dead To all beyond. A sphere is but a sphere; Small, Great, are merely terms we bandy here; Since to the spirit's absoluteness all Are like. Now, of the present sphere we call Life, are conditions; take but this among Many; the body was to be so long Youthful, no longer: but, since no control Tied to that body's purposes his soul, She chose to understand the body's trade More than the body's self—had fain conveyed Her boundless to the body's bounded lot. Hence, the soul permanent, the body not,— Scarcely its minute for enjoying here,— The soul must needs instruct her weak compeer, Run o'er its capabilities and wring A joy thence, she held worth experiencing: Which, far from half discovered even,—lo, The minute gone, the body's power let go Apportioned to that joy's acquirement! Broke Morning o'er earth, he yearned for all it woke— From the volcano's vapour-flag, winds hoist Black o'er the spread of sea,—down to the moist Dale's silken barley-spikes sullied with rain, Swayed earthwards, heavily to rise again— The Small, a sphere as perfect as the Great To the soul's absoluteness. Meditate Too long on such a morning's cluster-chord And the whole music it was framed afford,— The chord's might half discovered, what should pluck One string, his finger, was found palsy-struck. And then no marvel if the spirit, shown A saddest sight—the body lost alone Through her officious proffered help, deprived Of this and that enjoyment Fate contrived,— Virtue, Good, Beauty, each allowed slip hence,— Vain-gloriously were fain, for recompense, To stem the ruin even yet, protract The body's term, supply the power it lacked From her infinity, compel it learn These qualities were only Time's concern, And body may, with spirit helping, barred— Advance the same, vanquished—obtain reward, Reap joy where sorrow was intended grow, Of Wrong make Right, and turn Ill Good below. And the result is, the poor body soon Sinks under what was meant a wondrous boon, Leaving its bright accomplice all aghast.

So much was plain then, proper in the past; To be complete for, satisfy the whole Series of spheres—Eternity, his soul Needs must exceed, prove incomplete for, each Single sphere—Time. But does our knowledge reach No farther? Is the cloud of hindrance broke But by the failing of the fleshly yoke, Its loves and hates, as now when death lets soar Sordello, self-sufficient as before, Though during the mere space that shall elapse 'Twixt his enthralment in new bonds perhaps? Must life be ever just escaped, which should Have been enjoyed?—nay, might have been and would, Each purpose ordered right—the soul 's no whit Beyond the body's purpose under it. Like yonder breadth of watery heaven, a bay, And that sky-space of water, ray for ray And star for star, one richness where they mixed As this and that wing of an angel, fixed, Tumultuary splendours folded in To die—would soul, proportioned thus, begin Exciting discontent, or surelier quell The body if, aspiring, it rebel? But how so order life? Still brutalize The soul, the sad world's way, with muffled eyes To all that was before, all that shall be After this sphere—all and each quality Save some sole and immutable Great, Good And Beauteous whither fate has loosed its hood To follow? Never may some soul see All —The Great Before and After, and the Small Now, yet be saved by this the simplest lore, And take the single course prescribed before, As the king-bird with ages on his plumes Travels to die in his ancestral glooms? But where descry the Love that shall select That course? Here is a soul whom, to affect, Nature has plied with all her means, from trees And flowers e'en to the Multitude!—and these, Decides he save or no? One word to end!

Ah my Sordello, I this once befriend And speak for you. Of a Power above you still Which, utterly incomprehensible, Is out of rivalry, which thus you can Love, tho' unloving all conceived by man— What need! And of—none the minutest duct To that out-nature, nought that would instruct And so let rivalry begin to live— But of a Power its representative Who, being for authority the same, Communication different, should claim A course, the first chose but this last revealed— This Human clear, as that Divine concealed— What utter need!

What has Sordello found? Or can his spirit go the mighty round, End where poor Eglamor begun? So, says Old fable, the two eagles went two ways About the world: where, in the midst, they met, Though on a shifting waste of sand, men set Jove's temple. Quick, what has Sordello found? For they approach—approach—that foot's rebound Palma? No, Salinguerra though in mail; They mount, have reached the threshold, dash the veil Aside—and you divine who sat there dead, Under his foot the badge: still, Palma said, A triumph lingering in the wide eyes, Wider than some spent swimmer's if he spies Help from above in his extreme despair, And, head far back on shoulder thrust, turns there With short quick passionate cry: as Palma pressed In one great kiss, her lips upon his breast, It beat.

By this, the hermit-bee has stopped His day's toil at Goito: the new-cropped Dead vine-leaf answers, now 't is eve, he bit, Twirled so, and filed all day: the mansion 's fit, God counselled for. As easy guess the word That passed betwixt them, and become the third To the soft small unfrighted bee, as tax Him with one fault—so, no remembrance racks Of the stone maidens and the font of stone He, creeping through the crevice, leaves alone. Alas, my friend, alas Sordello, whom Anon they laid within that old font-tomb, And, yet again, alas!

And now is 't worth Our while bring back to mind, much less set forth How Salinguerra extricates himself Without Sordello? Ghibellin and Guelf May fight their fiercest out? If Richard sulked In durance or the Marquis paid his mulct, Who cares, Sordello gone? The upshot, sure, Was peace; our chief made some frank overture That prospered; compliment fell thick and fast On its disposer, and Taurello passed With foe and friend for an outstripping soul, Nine days at least. Then,—fairly reached the goal,— He, by one effort, blotted the great hope Out of his mind, nor further tried to cope With Este, that mad evening's style, but sent Away the Legate and the League, content No blame at least the brothers had incurred, —Dispatched a message to the Monk, he heard Patiently first to last, scarce shivered at, Then curled his limbs up on his wolfskin mat And ne'er spoke more,—informed the Ferrarese He but retained their rule so long as these Lingered in pupilage,—and last, no mode Apparent else of keeping safe the road From Germany direct to Lombardy For Friedrich,—none, that is, to guarantee The faith and promptitude of who should next Obtain Sofia's dowry,—sore perplexed— (Sofia being youngest of the tribe Of daughters, Ecelin was wont to bribe The envious magnates with—nor, since he sent Henry of Egna this fair child, had Trent Once failed the Kaiser's purposes—"we lost "Egna last year, and who takes Egna's post— "Opens the Lombard gate if Friedrich knock?") Himself espoused the Lady of the Rock In pure necessity, and, so destroyed His slender last of chances, quite made void Old prophecy, and spite of all the schemes Overt and covert, youth's deeds, age's dreams, Was sucked into Romano. And so hushed He up this evening's work that, when 't was brushed Somehow against by a blind chronicle Which, chronicling whatever woe befell Ferrara, noted this the obscure woe Of "Salinguerra's sole son Giacomo "Deceased, fatuous and doting, ere his sire," The townsfolk rubbed their eyes, could but admire Which of Sofia's five was meant.

The chaps Of earth's dead hope were tardy to collapse, Obliterated not the beautiful Distinctive features at a crash: but dull And duller these, next year, as Guelfs withdrew Each to his stronghold. Then (securely too Ecelin at Campese slept; close by, Who likes may see him in Solagna lie, With cushioned head and gloved hand to denote The cavalier he was)—then his heart smote Young Ecelin at last; long since adult. And, save Vicenza's business, what result In blood and blaze? (So hard to intercept Sordello till his plain withdrawal!) Stepped Then its new lord on Lombardy. I' the nick Of time when Ecelin and Alberic Closed with Taurello, come precisely news That in Verona half the souls refuse Allegiance to the Marquis and the Count— Have cast them from a throne they bid him mount, Their Podestà, thro' his ancestral worth. Ecelin flew there, and the town henceforth Was wholly his—Taurello sinking back From temporary station to a track That suited. News received of this acquist, Friedrich did come to Lombardy: who missed Taurello then? Another year: they took Vicenza, left the Marquis scarce a nook For refuge, and, when hundreds two or three Of Guelfs conspired to call themselves "The Free," Opposing Alberic,—vile Bassanese,— (Without Sordello!)—Ecelin at ease Slaughtered them so observably, that oft A little Salinguerra looked with soft Blue eyes up, asked his sire the proper age To get appointed his proud uncle's page. More years passed, and that sire had dwindled down To a mere showy turbulent soldier, grown Better through age, his parts still in repute, Subtle—how else?—but hardly so astute As his contemporaneous friends professed; Undoubtedly a brawler: for the rest, Known by each neighbour, and allowed for, let Keep his incorrigible ways, nor fret Men who would miss their boyhood's bugbear: "trap "The ostrich, suffer our bald osprey flap "A battered pinion!"—was the word. In fine, One flap too much and Venice's marine Was meddled with; no overlooking that! She captured him in his Ferrara, fat And florid at a banquet, more by fraud Than force, to speak the truth; there 's slender laud Ascribed you for assisting eighty years To pull his death on such a man; fate shears The life-cord prompt enough whose last fine threads You fritter: so, presiding his board-head, The old smile, your assurance all went well With Friedrich (as if he were like to tell!) In rushed (a plan contrived before) our friends, Made some pretence at fighting, some amends For the shame done his eighty years—(apart The principle, none found it in his heart To be much angry with Taurello)—gained Their galleys with the prize, and what remained But carry him to Venice for a show? —Set him, as 't were, down gently—free to go His gait, inspect our square, pretend observe The swallows soaring their eternal curve 'Twixt Theodore and Mark, if citizens Gathered importunately, fives and tens, To point their children the Magnifico, All but a monarch once in firm-land, go His gait among them now—"it took, indeed, "Fully this Ecelin to supersede "That man," remarked the seniors. Singular! Sordello's inability to bar Rivals the stage, that evening, mainly brought About by his strange disbelief that aught Was ever to be done,—this thrust the Twain Under Taurello's tutelage,—whom, brain And heart and hand, he forthwith in one rod Indissolubly bound to baffle God Who loves the world—and thus allowed the thin Grey wizened dwarfish devil Ecelin, And massy-muscled big-boned Alberic (Mere man, alas!) to put his problem quick To demonstration—prove wherever's will To do, there's plenty to be done, or ill Or good. Anointed, then, to rend and rip— Kings of the gag and flesh-hook, screw and whip, They plagued the world: a touch of Hildebrand (So far from obsolete!) made Lombards band Together, cross their coats as for Christ's cause, And saving Milan win the world's applause. Ecelin perished: and I think grass grew Never so pleasant as in Valley Rù By San Zenon where Alberic in turn Saw his exasperated captors burn Seven children and their mother; then, regaled So far, tied on to a wild horse, was trailed To death through raunce and bramble-bush. I take God's part and testify that 'mid the brake Wild o'er his castle on the pleasant knoll, You hear its one tower left, a belfry, toll— The earthquake spared it last year, laying flat The modern church beneath,—no harm in that! Chirrups the contumacious grasshopper, Rustles the lizard and the cushats chirre Above the ravage: there, at deep of day A week since, heard I the old Canon say He saw with his own eyes a barrow burst And Alberic's huge skeleton unhearsed Only five years ago. He added, "June 's "The month for carding off our first cocoons "The silkworms fabricate"—a double news, Nor he nor I could tell the worthier. Choose!

And Naddo gone, all's gone; not Eglamor! Believe, I knew the face I waited for, A guest my spirit of the golden courts! Oh strange to see how, despite ill-reports, Disuse, some wear of years, that face retained Its joyous look of love! Suns waxed and waned, And still my spirit held an upward flight, Spiral on spiral, gyres of life and light More and more gorgeous—ever that face there The last admitted! crossed, too, with some care As perfect triumph were not sure for all, But, on a few, enduring damp must fall, —A transient struggle, haply a painful sense Of the inferior nature's clinging—whence Slight starting tears easily wiped away, Fine jealousies soon stifled in the play Of irrepressible admiration—not Aspiring, all considered, to their lot Who ever, just as they prepare ascend Spiral on spiral, wish thee well, impend Thy frank delight at their exclusive track, That upturned fervid face and hair put back!

Is there no more to say? He of the rhymes— Many a tale, of this retreat betimes, Was born: Sordello die at once for men? The Chroniclers of Mantua tired their pen Telling how Sordello Prince Visconti saved Mantua, and elsewhere notably behaved— Who thus, by fortune ordering events, Passed with posterity, to all intents, For just the god he never could become. As Knight, Bard, Gallant, men were never dumb In praise of him: while what he should have been, Could be, and was not—the one step too mean For him to take,—we suffer at this day Because of: Ecelin had pushed away Its chance ere Dante could arrive and take That step Sordello spurned, for the world's sake: He did much—but Sordello's chance was gone. Thus, had Sordello dared that step alone, Apollo had been compassed: 't was a fit He wished should go to him, not he to it —As one content to merely be supposed Singing or fighting elsewhere, while he dozed Really at home—one who was chiefly glad To have achieved the few real deeds he had, Because that way assured they were not worth Doing, so spared from doing them henceforth— A tree that covets fruitage and yet tastes Never itself, itself. Had he embraced Their cause then, men had plucked Hesperian fruit And, praising that, just thrown him in to boot All he was anxious to appear, but scarce Solicitous to be. A sorry farce Such life is, after all! Cannot I say He lived for some one better thing? this way.— Lo, on a heathy brown and nameless hill By sparkling Asolo, in mist and chill, Morning just up, higher and higher runs A child barefoot and rosy. See! the sun's On the square castle's inner-court's low wall Like the chine of some extinct animal Half turned to earth and flowers; and through the haze (Save where some slender patches of grey maize Are to be overleaped) that boy has crossed The whole hill-side of dew and powder-frost Matting the balm and mountain camomile. Up and up goes he, singing all the while Some unintelligible words to beat The lark, God's poet, swooning at his feet, So worsted is he at "the few fine locks "Stained like pale honey oozed from topmost rocks "Sun-blanched the livelong summer,"—all that's left Of the Goito lay! And thus bereft, Sleep and forget, Sordello! In effect He sleeps, the feverish poet—I suspect Not utterly companionless; but, friends, Wake up! The ghost's gone, and the story ends I'd fain hope, sweetly; seeing, peri or ghoul, That spirits are conjectured fair or foul, Evil or good, judicious authors think, According as they vanish in a stink Or in a perfume. Friends, be frank! ye snuff Civet, I warrant. Really? Like enough! Merely the savour's rareness; any nose May ravage with impunity a rose: Rifle a musk-pod and 't will ache like yours! I'd tell you that same pungency ensures An after-gust, but that were overbold. Who would has heard Sordello's story told.

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244 there the body was laid. Her festival is on January 27th, and on that day a procession leaves the cathedral at Monaco and descends to the Church of Ste. Devota in the gulley. The great charm of Monte Carlo consists in the gardens with tropical plants. As to the buildings of Casino and Theatre, they are by Charles Gamier, who was also the architect of the Grand Opera House at Paris.—enough to say that they are vulgar and display no token of genius and sense of beauty. They are appropriate to a gambling hell. That is all that can be said of them.

"The Casino," says Miss Dempster, the authoress of Vera, "is the thing that all Europe, Asia, and America talk of, that all moralists decry, and that all pleasure-seekers declare to be a paradise. It is the Casino that gives wealth and fashion to this section of the coast. It is the Casino that causes a dozen trains to stop daily at Monte Carlo; that keeps up the palace, the army, the roads, the opera-house, and the Hôtel de Paris. It is the green table that keeps the gardens green and the violins in tune; that has brought 3,000 residents and so many hundred prostitutes to the town; that gives work to 1,000 servants, and causes the annual issue of about 335,000 tickets. When we consider these facts, the fabulous beauty of the site, the mildness of the climate, the good dinners, the better music, the pigeon-shooting, and the many exciting chances, can we wonder that Monte Carlo is in every mouth?"

It is just the fact that the site is so exquisitely beautiful that is the pity of it all. Why should the moral cesspool of Europe be precisely there? How much better were it in the Maremma or the Campagna, where the risk to health and life would add zest to the speculation with gold. As long as men people the globe there

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text: Author:Arthur Robert Ling

title: Author:Arthur Robert Ling


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Rh will be gambling, and it is in vain to think of stopping it. All the lowest types of humanity, the Lazaroni, the North American Indians, the half-caste Peruvians and Mexicans, resort to it with passion, and the unintellectual and those without mental culture throughout Europe will naturally pursue it as a form of excitement. It is therefore just as well that there should be places provided for these individuals of low mental and moral calibre to enjoy themselves in the only way that suits them, but again, the pity is that one of the fairest spots of Europe, this earthly paradise, should be given over to harlots and thieves, and Jew moneylenders, to rogues and fools of every description. The entire principality lives on the tables, the prince, the bishop, the canons, the soldiery, the police, the hotel-keepers, those who have villas, the cabdrivers, the waiters, the boatmen, all are bound together by a common interest—the plunder of such as come to Monte Carlo to lose their money. The institution must be kept going, every scandal must be hushed up. If a case of suicide occur, in ten minutes every trace disappears, and no public notice is given of what has occurred. It is against the interest of every one connected with the place, with Nice also and Mentone, to allow such an event to transpire. If any trust may be reposed in the assertions of Captain Weihe, a German naval artillery officer who has resided at Monte Carlo for three seasons, the cases are far more numerous than is supposed. According to him, directly a man has shot or hung himself, he is whisked away by the police and the body concealed till it is ascertained that no one is particularly interested in his fate. Then, at the end of the season, the bodies of the suicides are packed in cases that are weighted, and

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246 the boatmen sink them far out at sea between Monte Carlo and Corsica. According to the same authority, the bodies were formerly thrust into the holes and cracks in the limestone on which the Casino and the tributary buildings of Monte Carlo stand, but the condition in consequence became so insanitary that the place had to be cleared of them, and a large body of workmen was imported from Italy and employed on this work, and the corpses removed were disposed of at sea. Captain Weihe asserts as a matter of his own knowledge or observation that from the upper part of the rift of Pont Larousse, in 1898, sixty corpses, from the lower by Villa Eden ten or twelve were removed. The game of roulette is composed of two distinct divisions, that of numbers and that of cadres. Upon the former it is possible for the player to win thirty-five times the value of his stake; but then, the bank has thirty-six chances against him. Upon the cadres there is not so great a risk; for rouge or noir, pair or impair, passe or manque, there are nearly the same chances for the players as there are for the bank; but then, on the other hand, the player can win no more than the value of his stake.

The bank, with the odds on zero, normally absorbs one-seventieth of all the money staked on each table during the course of the year; that would be against constant players with capital behind them equal to the bank; but the majority of players take a comparatively limited sum with them and play without a system, until it is lost, and then perforce stop; whereas if they had the bank's unlimited time and capital, they would play, losing only one-seventieth of their stake on each coup,

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Rh and prolong the time required to lose a given capital. This constant game of what would in America be called "freeze out," enormously increases the bank's chances over the calculable one-seventieths of the staker, and is doubtless the main cause of its large winnings. The profits of the company were, in 1904, something like £1,250,000. This, at the calculable odds, would mean the staking during the year of the enormous sum of £87,500,000. But owing to the way the usual player stakes, as above described, probably a small fractional part of that sum would be sufficient to provide that amount of revenue. As M. Blanc was wont to say: "Rouge gagne quelque fois; noir aussi quelque fois—mais Blanc toujours." If players had unlimited capital, and were allowed without check to adopt the martingale or pyramid system, they would run small chance of losing. This consists in choosing a cadre and playing resolutely upon it, each time doubling the stake, until that which is backed wins, which it is certain to do if continued long enough. When it wins, the player has recovered the total of his stakes plus one, except the toll on zero, whereupon he would revert to the minimum stake. But the bank knows this as well as any one, and draws a line beyond which there is no doubling allowed.

At roulette, the minimum stake is five francs ; but at trente-et-quarante, a game at cards, the lowest stake is twenty francs. The amount of systems proposed, published, and advertised, is prodigious: every one has his system, who is an enthusiastic gambler, and every one has led to confusion and loss. One hears at intervals of lucky players who have broken the bank. But what guarantee have we that these are not decoy

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248 ducks, or at all events persons allowed to do so, as an advertisement, and a means of luring other persons to try their chance to do the same? The last of those who has written is one Josephine Lorenz, Schaff dir Gold in Monte Carlo, published at Munich in 1905. Sir Hiram Maxim in his Monte Carlo, London, 1904, tells a significant story about the breaking of the bank by Lord Rosslyn and the late Mr. Sam Lewis. After about seven consecutive wins, it was said that the bank had been broken; a bell was rung, and a factor of the bank was summoned and required to bring a fresh supply of money. It was delivered, the play proceeded, and a second time the bank was broken. This led to immense excitement: hundreds of people crowded about the table and followed the lead of the two lucky stakers, with their smaller ventures. The next time they won on seventeen coups; after that, however, each lost 12,000 francs, and those who had docilely followed them lost also. The bank was not really broken the third time, but pretended and proclaimed that it had been.

"However," says Sir Hiram, " my suspicions were excited; I did not believe for a moment that the bank had actually been broken. I knew that there had been a great deal of play during the day, and that the winnings at this particular table must have been very heavy indeed. I therefore remained to see the money taken from the table, when I found it was exactly as I had expected; there was at least a peck of large bank notes. It had not been necessary for the bank to send for money at all; this had been done for effect. It was telegraphed all over the world that Lord Rosslyn and Mr. Sam Lewis had broken the bank three consecutive times in a single evening. True, the bank had lost money, but they turned it into a valuable advertisement."

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Rh That is not all. Next day Lord Rosslyn and Mr. Lewis again tried their luck, and lost at whatever they tried, whether at roulette or at trente-et-quarante. Lord Rosslyn staked fifteen times in as many minutes, and never won a single "coup." Sir Hiram drily observes:—

"Considered from a purely mathematical standpoint, it would appear very remarkable that he should win seventeen consecutive times in the evening, and lose fifteen consecutive times the following morning."

Captain Weihe of Hamburg, of the German Marine Artillery, has published in German and Italian a brochure, entitled, in the former language, Das Falschspiel in Monte Carlo, in which he brings a charge of fraud against the company, based on his observation during three seasons of steady watching the play. Now the chances of the ball entering a given pocket are calculable. According to him, the number of times, say in a thousand, in which, by the law of chances, the ball ought to enter a given number is calculable, here, however, it does not obey the law of chances. Further, he says that he noticed that wealthy players were encouraged to proceed, by winning stake after stake, and then, all at once, luck would declare against them. Why, he wonders, should such men be lucky at first and only unlucky afterwards?

Then, he asserts that the agents of the company occasionally encourage a timorous player by advice, given with all secrecy, to stake on a certain number, and that then, by some remarkable coincidence, this number will win. These observations, he says, led him to the conclusion that there existed some method

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Geary v. Visitation of Blessed Virgin Mary School

Appeal from the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. (D.C. Civil No. 92-05769).

Robert J. Reilley, Jr., Esquire (ARGUED), Pizonka, Reilley & Bello, 144 East DeKalb Pike, Suite 200, King of Prussia, PA 19406, COUNSEL FOR APPELLANT.

Herbert G. Keene, Jr., Esquire (ARGUED), Nicholas Deenis, Esquire, Stradley, Ronon, Stevens & Young, 2600 One Commerce Square, Philadelphia, PA 19103, COUNSEL FOR APPELLEES.

Donald R. Livingston, General Counsel, Gwendolyn Young Reams, Associate General Counsel, Lorraine C. Davis, Assistant General Counsel, Jennifer S. Goldstein, Esquire (ARGUED), Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, 1801 L Street, N.W., Washington, DC 20507, COUNSEL FOR AMICUS EEOC. Steven S. Zaleznick, Esquire, Cathy Ventrell-Monsees, Esquire, Sally P. Dunaway, Esquire, American Association of Retired Persons, 601 E Street, N.W., Washington, D.C. 20049, COUNSEL FOR AMICUS AARP.

Before: MANSMANN, GREENBERG and LEWIS, Circuit Judges.


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250 whereby the ball could be directed to go where the croupiers desired that it should go. Then he asserts that he assured himself that a piece of steel was inserted in a certain number of the balls, and that these loaded balls could be drawn into any pocket desired, by the chef de partie, by means of an electro magnet manipulated by himself. He further asserts that by close observation during three seasons, he was able, by watching the fingers of the chef, to predicate with something approaching to certainty into which number the ball would run. The pamphlet in question is not sold at Nice or Mentone, and it need not be said is not allowed to pass over the frontier of the principality of Monaco, but it can be procured at Bordighera. However, it appears very improbable that the bank would run such a risk. It is true that detection of roguery is not easy, where the tables are in a principality under an absolute monarch, and where police and every authority are interested in the continuance of the gambling. There is, however, the risk of some croupier "giving away the show"; and there is also the risk of detection. But—is cheating necessary? Is it worth its salt? Let us look closer into the acknowledged system. While playing on the even chances gives 1.35 per cent, in favour of the bank, playing on any other gives the bank 270; and as many fools play on those chances that favour the bank most highly, it is probably safe to assume that the odds in favour of the bank will average 1.66 on all the tables, both trente-et-quarante and roulette. If individuals playing would take in all the money they could afford to lose, divide this into so many maximums (if one did not suffice) and stake the

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