When a word, cry, gasp, would have rescued both! Ay bite me! The worm begins At his work once more. Had cowardice proved--that only--my sin of sins!

Friends, look you here! Suppose ... suppose.... But mad I am, needs must be!

Judas the d.a.m.ned would never have dared such a sin as I dream! For, see!

Suppose I had sneakingly loved her myself, my wretched self, and dreamed In the heart of me "She were better dead than happy and his!"--while gleamed A light from h.e.l.l as I spied the pair in a perfectest embrace, He the savior and she the saved,--bliss born of the very murder-place!

No! Say I was scared, friends! Call me fool and coward, but nothing worse!

Jeer at the fool and gibe at the coward! 'Twas ever the coward's curse That fear breeds fancies in such: such take their shadow for substance still, --A fiend at their back. I liked poor Parkes,--loved Vincent, if you will!

And her--why, I said "Good morrow" to her, "Good even," and nothing more: The neighborly way! She was just to me as fifty had been before.

So, coward it is and coward shall be! There's a friend, now!

Thanks! A drink Of water I wanted: and now I can walk, get home by myself, I think.

This poem, on an incident in Clive's life, is also included on account of its English historical setting.

The remarkable career of Robert Clive cannot be gone into here. Suffice it to refresh one's memory with a few princ.i.p.al events of his life. He was born in Shopshire in 1725. He entered the service of the East India Company at eighteen and was sent to Madras. Here, on account of his falling into debt, and being in danger of losing his situation, he twice tried to shoot himself. The pistol failed to go off, however, and he became impressed with the idea that some great destiny was awaiting him.

His feeling was fully realized as his subsequent career in India shows.

At twenty-seven, when he returned to England he had made the English the first military power in India. On his return to India (1755-59) he took a further step and secured for the English a political supremacy.

Finally, on his last visit, he crowned his earlier exploits by putting the English dominance on a sounder basis of integrity than it had before been.

The incident related in the poem by the old man, Browning heard from Mrs. Jameson, who had shortly before heard it from Macaulay at Lansdowne House. Macaulay mentions it in his essay: "Of his personal courage he had, while still a writer [clerk] given signal proof by a desperate duel with a military bully who was the terror of Fort St. David."

The old gentleman in the poem evidently mixed up his dates slightly, for he says this incident occurred when Clive was twenty-one, and he represents him as committing suicide twenty-five years afterwards. Clive was actually forty-nine when he took his own life.

CLIVE

I and Clive were friends--and why not? Friends! I think you laugh, my lad.

Clive it was gave England India, while your father gives--egad, England nothing but the graceless boy who lures him on to speak-- "Well, Sir, you and Clive were comrades--" with a tongue thrust in your cheek!

Very true: in my eyes, your eyes, all the world's eyes, Clive was man, I was, am and ever shall be--mouse, nay, mouse of all its clan Sorriest sample, if you take the kitchen's estimate for fame; While the man Clive--he fought Pla.s.sy, spoiled the clever foreign game, Conquered and annexed and Englished!

Never mind! As o'er my punch (You away) I sit of evenings,--silence, save for biscuit-crunch, Black, unbroken,--thought grows busy, thrids each pathway of old years, Notes this forthright, that meander, till the long-past life appears Like an outspread map of country plodded through, each mile and rood, Once, and well remembered still: I'm startled in my solitude Ever and anon by--what's the sudden mocking light that breaks On me as I slap the table till no rummer-gla.s.s but shakes While I ask--aloud, I do believe, G.o.d help me!--"Was it thus?

Can it be that so I faltered, stopped when just one step for us--"

(Us,--you were not born, I grant, but surely some day born would be) "--One bold step had gained a province" (figurative talk, you see) "Got no end of wealth and honor,--yet I stood stock still no less?"

--"For I was not Clive," you comment: but it needs no Clive to guess Wealth were handy, honor ticklish, did no writing on the wall Warn me "Trespa.s.ser, 'ware man-traps!" Him who braves that notice--call Hero! none of such heroics suit myself who read plain words, Doff my hat, and leap no barrier. Scripture says the land's the Lord's: Louts them--what avail the thousand, noisy in a smock-frocked ring, All-agog to have me trespa.s.s, clear the fence, be Clive their king?

Higher warrant must you show me ere I set one foot before T'other in that dark direction, though I stand for evermore Poor as Job and meek as Moses. Evermore? No! By-and-by Job grows rich and Moses valiant, Clive turns out less wise than I.

Don't object "Why call him friend, then?" Power is power, my boy, and still Marks a man,--G.o.d's gift magnific, exercised for good or ill.

You've your boot now on my hearth-rug, tread what was a tiger's skin: Rarely such a royal monster as I lodged the bullet in!

True, he murdered half a village, so his own death came to pa.s.s; Still, for size and beauty, cunning, courage--ah, the brute he was!

Why, that Clive,--that youth, that greenhorn, that quill-driving clerk, in fine,-- He sustained a siege in Arcot.... But the world knows! Pa.s.s the wine.

Where did I break off at? How bring Clive in? Oh, you mentioned "fear"!

Just so: and, said I, that minds me of a story you shall hear.

We were friends then, Clive and I: so, when the clouds, about the orb Late supreme, encroaching slowly, surely, threatened to absorb Ray by ray its noontide brilliance,--friendship might, with steadier eye Drawing near, bear what had burned else, now no blaze--all majesty.

Too much bee's-wing floats my figure? Well, suppose a castle's new: None presume to climb its ramparts, none find foothold sure for shoe 'Twixt those squares and squares of granite plating the impervious pile As his scale-mail's warty iron cuira.s.ses a crocodile.

Reels that castle thunder-smitten, storm-dismantled? From without Scrambling up by crack and crevice, every c.o.c.kney prates about Towers--the heap he kicks now! turrets--just the measure of his cane!

Will that do? Observe moreover--(same similitude again)-- Such a castle seldom crumbles by sheer stress of cannonade: 'Tis when foes are foiled and fighting's finished that vile rains invade, Gra.s.s o'ergrows, o'ergrows till night-birds congregating find no holes Fit to build in like the topmost sockets made for banner-poles.

So Clive crumbled slow in London--crashed at last.

A week before, Dining with him,--after trying churchyard-chat of days of yore,-- Both of us stopped, tired as tombstones, head-piece, foot-piece, when they lean Each to other, drowsed in fog-smoke, o'er a coffined Past between.

As I saw his head sink heavy, guessed the soul's extinguishment By the glazing eyeball, noticed how the furtive fingers went Where a drug-box skulked behind the honest liquor,--"One more throw Try for Clive!" thought I: "Let's venture some good rattling question!" So-- "Come, Clive, tell us"--out I blurted--"what to tell in turn, years hence, When my boy--suppose I have one--asks me on what evidence I maintain my friend of Pla.s.sy proved a warrior every whit Worth your Alexanders, Caesars, Marlboroughs and--what said Pitt?-- Frederick the Fierce himself! Clive told me once"--I want to say-- "Which feat out of all those famous doings bore the bell away --In his own calm estimation, mark you, not the mob's rough guess-- Which stood foremost as evincing what Clive called courageousness!

Come! what moment of the minute, what speck-center in the wide Circle of the action saw your mortal fairly deified?

(Let alone that filthy sleep-stuff, swallow bold this wholesome Port!) If a friend has leave to question,--when were you most brave, in short?"

Up he arched his brows o' the instant--formidably Clive again.

"When was I most brave? I'd answer, were the instance half as plain As another instance that's a brain-lodged crystal--curse it!--here Freezing when my memory touches--ugh!--the time I felt most fear.

Ugh! I cannot say for certain if I showed fear--anyhow, Fear I felt, and, very likely, shuddered, since I shiver now."

"Fear!" smiled I. "Well, that's the rarer: that's a specimen to seek, Ticket up in one's museum, _Mind-Freaks_, _Lord Clive's Fear_, _Unique_!"

Down his brows dropped. On the table painfully he pored as though Tracing, in the stains and streaks there, thoughts encrusted long ago.

When he spoke 'twas like a lawyer reading word by word some will, Some blind jungle of a statement,--beating on and on until Out there leaps fierce life to fight with.

"This fell in my factor-days.

Desk-drudge, slaving at St. David's, one must game, or drink, or craze.

I chose gaming: and,--because your high-flown gamesters hardly take Umbrage at a factor's elbow if the factor pays his stake,-- I was winked at in a circle where the company was choice, Captain This and Major That, men high of color, loud of voice, Yet indulgent, condescending to the modest juvenile Who not merely risked but lost his hard-earned guineas with a smile.

"Down I sat to cards, one evening,--had for my antagonist Somebody whose name's a secret--you'll know why--so, if you list, Call him c.o.c.k o' the Walk, my scarlet son of Mars from head to heel!

Play commenced: and, whether c.o.c.ky fancied that a clerk must feel Quite sufficient honor came of bending over one green baize, I the scribe with him the warrior,--guessed no penman dared to raise Shadow of objection should the honor stay but playing end More or less abruptly,--whether disinclined he grew to spend Practice strictly scientific on a b.o.o.by born to stare At--not ask of--lace-and-ruffles if the hand they hide plays fair,-- Anyhow, I marked a movement when he bade me 'Cut!'

"I rose.

'Such the new manoeuvre, Captain? I'm a novice: knowledge grows.

What, you force a card, you cheat, Sir?'

"Never did a thunder-clap Cause emotion, startle Thyrsis locked with Chloe in his lap, As my word and gesture (down I flung my cards to join the pack) Fired the man of arms, whose visage, simply red before, turned black.

"When he found his voice, he stammered 'That expression once again!'

"'Well, you forced a card and cheated!'

"'Possibly a factor's brain, Busied with his all-important balance of accounts, may deem Weighing words superfluous trouble: _cheat_ to clerkly ears may seem Just the joke for friends to venture: but we are not friends, you see!

When a gentleman is joked with,--if he's good at repartee, He rejoins, as do I--Sirrah, on your knees, withdraw in full!

Beg my pardon, or be sure a kindly bullet through your skull Lets in light and teaches manners to what brain it finds! Choose quick-- Have your life snuffed out or, kneeling, pray me trim yon candle-wick!'

"'Well, you cheated!'

"Then outbroke a howl from all the friends around.

To his feet sprang each in fury, fists were clenched and teeth were ground.

'End it! no time like the present! Captain, yours were our disgrace!

No delay, begin and finish! Stand back, leave the pair a s.p.a.ce!

Let civilians be instructed: henceforth simply ply the pen, Fly the sword! This clerk's no swordsman? Suit him with a pistol, then!

Even odds! A dozen paces 'twixt the most and least expert Make a dwarf a giant's equal: nay, the dwarf, if he's alert, Likelier hits the broader target!'

"Up we stood accordingly.

As they handed me the weapon, such was my soul's thirst to try Then and there conclusions with this bully, tread on and stamp out Every spark of his existence, that,--crept close to, curled about By that toying tempting teasing fool-fore-finger's middle joint,-- Don't you guess?--the trigger yielded. Gone my chance! and at the point Of such prime success moreover: scarce an inch above his head Went my ball to hit the wainscot. He was living, I was dead.

"Up he marched in flaming triumph--'twas his right, mind!--up, within Just an arm's length. 'Now, my clerkling,' chuckled c.o.c.ky with a grin As the levelled piece quite touched me, 'Now, Sir Counting-House, repeat That expression which I told you proved bad manners! Did I cheat?'

"'Cheat you did, you knew you cheated, and, this moment, know as well.

As for me, my homely breeding bids you--fire and go to h.e.l.l!'