So, smiling as at first went she.

VIII

She was active, stirring, all fire-- Could not rest, could not tire-- To a stone she might have given life!

(I myself loved once, in my day) --For a shepherd's, miner's, huntsman's wife, (I had a wife, I know what I say) Never in all the world such an one! 180 And here was plenty to be done, And she that could do it, great or small, She was to do nothing at all.

There was already this man in his post, This in his station, and that in his office, And the Duke's plan admitted a wife, at most, To meet his eye, with the other trophies, Now outside the hall, now in it, To sit thus, stand thus, see and be seen, At the proper place in the proper minute, 190 And die away the life between.

And it was amusing enough, each infraction Of rule--(but for after-sadness that came) To hear the consummate self-satisfaction With which the young Duke and the old dame Would let her advise, and criticise, And, being a fool, instruct the wise, And, child-like, parcel out praise or blame: They bore it all in complacent guise, As though an artificer, after contriving 200 A wheel-work image as if it were living, Should find with delight it could motion to strike him!

So found the Duke, and his mother like him: The lady hardly got a rebuff-- That had not been contemptuous enough, With his cursed smirk, as he nodded applause, And kept off the old mother-cat's claws.

IX

So, the little lady grew silent and thin, Paling and ever paling, As the way is with a hid chagrin; 210 And the Duke perceived that she was ailing, And said in his heart, "'Tis done to spite me, But I shall find in my power to right me!"

Don't swear, friend! The old one, many a year, Is in h.e.l.l, and the Duke's self... you shall hear.

X

Well, early in autumn, at first winter-warning, When the stag had to break with his foot, of a morning, A drinking-hole out of the fresh tender ice That covered the pond till the sun, in a trice, Loosening it, let out a ripple of gold, 220 And another and another, and faster and faster Till, dimpling to blindness, the wide water rolled: Then it so chanced that the Duke our master Asked himself what were the pleasures in season, And found, since the calendar bade him be hearty, He should do the Middle Age no treason In resolving on a hunting-party.

Always provided, old books showed the way of it!

What meant old poets by their strictures?

And when old poets had said their say of it, 230 How taught old painters in their pictures?

We must revert to the proper channels, Workings in tapestry, paintings on panels, And gather up woodcraft's authentic traditions: Here was food for our various ambitions, As on each case, exactly stated-- To encourage your dog, now, the properest chirrup Or best prayer to Saint Hubert on mounting your stirrup-- We of the household took thought and debated.

Blessed was he whose back ached with the jerkin 240 His sire was wont to do forest-work in; Blesseder he who n.o.bly sunk "ohs"

And "ahs" while he tugged on his grandsire's trunk-hose; What signified hats if they had no rims on, Each slouching before and behind like the scallop, And able to serve at sea for a shallop, Loaded with lacquer and looped with crimson?

So that the deer now, to make a short rhyme on't, What with our Venerers, p.r.i.c.kers and Verderers, 250 Might hope for real hunters at length and not murderers, And oh the Duke's tailor, he had a hot time on't!

XI

Now you must know that when the first dizziness Of flap-hats and buff-coats and jack-boots subsided, The Duke put this question, "The Duke's part provided, Had not the d.u.c.h.ess some share in the business?"

For out of the mouth of two or three witnesses Did he establish all fit-or-unfitnesses: And, after much laying of heads together, Somebody's cap got a notable feather By the announcement with proper unction 260 That he had discovered the lady's function; Since ancient authors gave this tenet, "When horns wind a mort and the deer is at siege, Let the dame of the castle p.r.i.c.k forth on her jennet, And with water to wash the hands of her liege In a clean ewer with a fair toweling, Let her preside at the disemboweling."

Now, my friend, if you had so little religion As to catch a hawk, some falcon-lanner, And thrust her broad wings like a banner 270 Into a coop for a vulgar pigeon; And if day by day and week by week You cut her claws, and sealed her eyes, And clipped her wings, and tied her beak, Would it cause you any great surprise If, when you decided to give her an airing, You found she needed a little preparing?

--I say, should you be such a curmudgeon, If she clung to the perch, as to take it in dudgeon?

Yet when the Duke to his lady signified, 280 Just a day before, as he judged most dignified, In what a pleasure she was to partic.i.p.ate,-- And, instead of leaping wide in flashes, Her eyes just lifted their long lashes, As if pressed by fatigue even he could not dissipate, And duly acknowledged the Duke's fore-thought, But spoke of her health, if her health were worth aught, Of the weight by day and the watch by night, And much wrong now that used to be right, So, thanking him, declined the hunting-- 290 Was conduct ever more affronting?

With all the ceremony settled-- With the towel ready, and the sewer Polishing up his oldest ewer, And the jennet pitched upon, a piebald, Black-barred, cream-coated and pink eye-balled-- No wonder if the Duke was nettled!

And when she persisted nevertheless,-- Well, I suppose here's the time to confess That there ran half round our lady's chamber 300 A balcony none of the hardest to clamber; And that Jacynth the tire-woman, ready in waiting,

Stayed in call outside, what need of relating?

And since Jacynth was like a June rose, why, a fervent Adorer of Jacynth of course was your servant; And if she had the habit to peep through the cas.e.m.e.nt, How could I keep at any vast distance?

And so, as I say, on the lady's persistence, The Duke, dumb-stricken with amazement, Stood for a while in a sultry smother, 310 And then, with a smile that partook of the awful, Turned her over to his yellow mother To learn what was held decorous and lawful; And the mother smelt blood with a cat-like instinct, As her cheek quick whitened thro' all its quince-tinct.

Oh, but the lady heard the whole truth at once!

What meant she?--Who was she?--Her duty and station, The wisdom of age and the folly of youth, at once, Its decent regard and its fitting relation-- In brief, my friend, set all the devils in h.e.l.l free 320 And turn them out to carouse in a belfry And treat the priests to a fifty-part canon, And then you may guess how that tongue of hers ran on!

Well, somehow or other it ended at last And, licking her whiskers, out she pa.s.sed; And after her,--making (he hoped) a face Like Emperor Nero or Sultan Saladin, Stalked the Duke's self with the austere grace Of ancient hero or modern paladin, From door to staircase--oh such a solemn 330 Unbending of the vertebral column!

XII

However, at sunrise our company mustered; And here was the huntsman bidding unkennel, And there 'neath his bonnet the p.r.i.c.ker bl.u.s.tered, With feather dank as a bough of wet fennel; For the court-yard walls were filled with fog You might have cut as an axe chops a log-- Like so much wool for colour and bulkiness; And out rode the Duke in a perfect sulkiness, Since, before breakfast, a man feels but queasily 340 And a sinking at the lower abdomen Begins the day with indifferent omen.

And lo, as he looked around uneasily, The sun ploughed the fog up and drove it asunder This way and that from the valley under; And, looking through the court-yard arch, Down in the valley, what should meet him But a troop of Gipsies on their march?

No doubt with the annual gifts to greet him.

XIII

Now, in your land, Gipsies reach you, only 350 After reaching all lands beside; North they go, South they go, trooping or lonely And still, as they travel far and wide, Catch they and keep now a trace here, a trace there, That puts you in mind of a place here, a place there.

But with us, I believe they rise out of the ground, And nowhere else, I take it, are found With the earth-tint yet so freshly embrowned: Born, no doubt, like insects which breed on The very fruit they are meant to feed on. 360 For the earth-not a use to which they don't turn it, The ore that grows in the mountain's womb, Or the sand in the pits like a honeycomb, They sift and soften it, bake it and burn it-- Whether they weld you, for instance, a snaffle With side-bars never a brute can baffle; Or a lock that's a puzzle of wards within wards; Or, if your colt's fore-foot inclines to curve inwards, Horseshoes they hammer which turn on a swivel And won't allow the hoof to shrivel. 370 Then they cast bells like the sh.e.l.l of the winkle That keep a stout heart in the ram with their tinkle; But the sand-they pinch and pound it like otters; Commend me to Gipsy gla.s.s-makers and potters!

Gla.s.ses they'll blow you, crystal-clear, Where just a faint cloud of rose shall appear, As if in pure water you dropped and let die A bruised black-blooded mulberry; And that other sort, their crowning pride, With long white threads distinct inside, 380 Like the lake-flower's fibrous roots which dangle Loose such a length and never tangle, Where the bold sword-lily cuts the clear waters, And the cup-lily couches with all the white daughters: Such are the works they put their hand to, The uses they turn and twist iron and sand to.

And these made the troop, which our Duke saw sally Toward his castle from out of the valley, Men and women, like new-hatched spiders, Come out with the morning to greet our riders. 390 And up they wound till they reached the ditch, Whereat all stopped save one, a witch That I knew, as she hobbled from the group, By her gait directly and her stoop, I, whom Jacynth was used to importune To let that same witch tell us our fortune.

The oldest Gipsy then above ground; And, sure as the autumn season came round, She paid us a visit for profit or pastime, And every time, as she swore, for the last time. 400

And presently she was seen to sidle Up to the Duke till she touched his bridle, So that the horse of a sudden reared up As under its nose the old witch peered up With her worn-out eyes, or rather eye-holes Of no use now but to gather brine, And began a kind of level whine Such as they used to sing to their viols When their ditties they go grinding Up and down with n.o.body minding 410 And then, as of old, at the end of the humming Her usual presents were forthcoming --A dog-whistle blowing the fiercest of trebles, (Just a sea-sh.o.r.e stone holding a dozen fine pebbles) Or a porcelain mouth-piece to screw on a pipe-end-- And so she awaited her annual stipend.

But this time, the Duke would scarcely vouchsafe A word in reply; and in vain she felt With twitching fingers at her belt For the purse of sleek pine-martin pelt, 420 Ready to put what he gave in her pouch safe-- Till, either to quicken his apprehension, Or possibly with an after-intention, She was come, she said, to pay her duty To the new d.u.c.h.ess, the youthful beauty.

No sooner had she named his lady, Than a shine lit up the face so shady, And its smirk returned with a novel meaning-- For it struck him, the babe just wanted weaning; If one gave her a taste of what life was and sorrow, 430 She, foolish today, would be wiser tomorrow; And who so fit a teacher of trouble As this sordid crone bent well-nigh double?

So, glancing at her wolf-skin vesture, (If such it was, for they grow so hirsute That their own fleece serves for natural fur-suit) He was contrasting, 'twas plain from his gesture, The life of the lady so flower-like and delicate With the loathsome squalor of this helicat.

I, in brief, was the man the Duke beckoned 440 From out of the throng, and while I drew near He told the crone-as I since have reckoned By the way he bent and spoke into her ear With circ.u.mspection and mystery-- The main of the lady's history, Her frowardness and ingrat.i.tude: And for all the crone's submissive att.i.tude I could see round her mouth the loose plaits tightening, And her brow with a.s.senting intelligence brightening As though she engaged with hearty goodwill 450 Whatever he now might enjoin to fulfil, And promised the lady a thorough frightening.

And so, just giving her a glimpse Of a purse, with the air of a man who imps The wing of the hawk that shall fetch the hernshaw, He bade me take the Gipsy mother And set her telling some story or other Of hill or dale, oak-wood or fernshaw, To wile away a weary hour For the lady left alone in her bower, 460 Whose mind and body craved exertion And yet shrank from all better diversion.

XIV

Then clapping heel to his horse, the mere curveter, Out rode the Duke, and after his hollo Horses and hounds swept, huntsman and servitor, And back I turned and bade the crone follow.

And what makes me confident what's to be told you Had all along been of this crone's devising, Is, that, on looking round sharply, behold you, There was a novelty quick as surprising: 470 For first, she had shot up a full head in stature, And her step kept pace with mine nor faltered, As if age had foregone its usurpature, And the ign.o.ble mien was wholly altered, And the face looked quite of another nature, And the change reached too, whatever the change meant, Her s.h.a.ggy wolf-skin cloak's arrangement: For where its tatters hung loose like sedges, Gold coins were glittering on the edges, Like the band-roll strung with tomans 480 Which proves the veil a Persian woman's: And under her brow, like a snail's horns newly Come out as after the rain he paces, Two unmistakeable eye-points duly Live and aware looked out of their places.

So, we went and found Jacynth at the entry Of the lady's chamber standing sentry; I told the command and produced my companion, And Jacynth rejoiced to admit any one, For since last night, by the same token, 490 Not a single word had the lady spoken: They went in both to the presence together, While I in the balcony watched the weather.

XV

And now, what took place at the very first of all, I cannot tell, as I never could learn it: Jacynth constantly wished a curse to fall On that little head of hers and burn it If she knew how she came to drop so soundly Asleep of a sudden and there continue The whole time sleeping as profoundly 500 As one of the boars my father would pin you 'Twixt the eyes where life holds garrison, --Jacynth forgive me the comparison!

But where I begin my own narration Is a little after I took my station To breathe the fresh air from the balcony, And, having in those days a falcon eye, To follow the hunt thro' the open country, From where the bushes thinlier crested The hillocks, to a plain where's not one tree. 510 When, in a moment, my ear was arrested By--was it singing, or was it saying, Or a strange musical instrument playing In the chamber?--and to be certain I pushed the lattice, pulled the curtain, And there lay Jacynth asleep, Yet as if a watch she tried to keep, In a rosy sleep along the floor With her head against the door; While in the midst, on the seat of state, 520 Was a queen-the Gipsy woman late, With head and face downbent On the lady's head and face intent: For, coiled at her feet like a child at ease, The lady sat between her knees And o'er them the lady's clasped hands met, And on those hands her chin was set, And her upturned face met the face of the crone Wherein the eyes had grown and grown As if she could double and quadruple 530 At pleasure the play of either pupil --Very like, by her hands' slow fanning, As up and down like a gor-crow's flappers They moved to measure, or bell-clappers.

I said, "Is it blessing, is it banning, Do they applaud you or burlesque you-- Those hands and fingers with no flesh on?"

But, just as I thought to spring in to the rescue, At once I was stopped by the lady's expression: For it was life her eyes were drinking 540 From the crone's wide pair above unwinking, --Life's pure fire received without shrinking, Into the heart and breast whose heaving Told you no single drop they were leaving, --Life, that filling her, pa.s.sed redundant Into her very hair, back swerving Over each shoulder, loose and abundant, As her head thrown back showed the white throat curving; And the very tresses shared in the pleasure, Moving to the mystic measure, 550 Bounding as the bosom bounded.

I stopped short, more and more confounded, As still her cheeks burned and eyes glistened, As she listened and she listened: When all at once a hand detained me, The selfsame contagion gained me, And I kept time to the wondrous chime, Making out words and prose and rhyme, Till it seemed that the music furled Its wings like a task fulfilled, and dropped 560 From under the words it first had propped, And left them midway in the world: Word took word as hand takes hand I could hear at last, and understand, And when I held the unbroken thread, The Gipsy said: "And so at last we find my tribe.

And so I set thee in the midst, And to one and all of them describe What thou saidst and what thou didst, 570 Our long and terrible journey through, And all thou art ready to say and do In the trials that remain: I trace them the vein and the other vein That meet on thy brow and part again, Making our rapid mystic mark; And I bid my people prove and probe Each eye's profound and glorious globe Till they detect the kindred spark In those depths so dear and dark, 580 Like the spots that snap and burst and flee, Circling over the midnight sea.

And on that round young cheek of thine I make them recognize the tinge, As when of the costly scarlet wine They drip so much as will impinge And spread in a thinnest scale afloat One thick gold drop from the olive's coat Over a silver plate whose sheen Still thro' the mixture shall be seen. 590 For so I prove thee, to one and all, Fit, when my people ope their breast, To see the sign, and hear the call, And take the vow, and stand the test Which adds one more child to the rest-- When the breast is bare and the arms are wide, And the world is left outside.

For there is probation to decree, And many and long must the trials be Thou shalt victoriously endure, 600 If that brow is true and those eyes are sure; Like a jewel-finder's fierce a.s.say Of the prize he dug from its mountain tomb-- Let once the vindicating ray Leap out amid the anxious gloom, And steel and fire have done their part And the prize falls on its finder's heart; So, trial after trial past, Wilt thou fall at the very last Breathless, half in trance 610 With the thrill of the great deliverance, Into our arms for evermore; And thou shalt know, those arms once curled About thee, what we knew before, How love is the only good in the world.

Henceforth be loved as heart can love, Or brain devise, or hand approve!

Stand up, look below, It is our life at thy feet we throw To step with into light and joy; 620 Not a power of life but we employ To satisfy thy nature's want; Art thou the tree that props the plant, Or the climbing plant that seeks the tree-- Canst thou help us, must we help thee?

If any two creatures grew into one, They would do more than the world has done: Though each apart were never so weak, Ye vainly through the world should seek For the knowledge and the might 630 Which in such union grew their right: So, to approach at least that end, And blend,--as much as may be, blend Thee with us or us with thee-- As climbing plant or propping tree, Shall some one deck thee, over and down, Up and about, with blossoms and leaves?

Fix his heart's fruit for thy garland-crown, Cling with his soul as the gourd-vine cleaves, Die on thy boughs and disappear 640 While not a leaf of thine is sere?

Or is the other fate in store, And art thou fitted to adore, To give thy wondrous self away, And take a stronger nature's sway?

I foresee and could foretell Thy future portion, sure and well: But those pa.s.sionate eyes speak true, speak true, Let them say what thou shalt do!

Only be sure thy daily life, 650 In its peace or in its strife, Never shall be un.o.bserved; We pursue thy whole career, And hope for it, or doubt, or fear-- Lo, hast thou kept thy path or swerved, We are beside thee in all thy ways, With our blame, with our praise, Our shame to feel, our pride to show, Glad, angry--but indifferent, no!

Whether it be thy lot to go, 660 For the good of us all, where the haters meet In the crowded city's horrible street; Or thou step alone through the mora.s.s Where never sound yet was Save the dry quick clap of the stork's bill, For the air is still, and the water still, When the blue breast of the dipping coot Dives under, and all is mute.

So, at the last shall come old age, Decrepit as befits that stage; 670 How else wouldst thou retire apart With the h.o.a.rded memories of thy heart, And gather all to the very least Of the fragments of life's earlier feast, Let fall through eagerness to find The crowning dainties yet behind?

Ponder on the entire past Laid together thus at last, When the twilight helps to fuse The first fresh with the faded hues, 680 And the outline of the whole, As round eve's shades their framework roll, Grandly fronts for once thy soul.

And then as, 'mid the dark, a gleam Of yet another morning breaks, And like the hand which ends a dream, Death, with the might of his sunbeam, Touches the flesh and the soul awakes, Then--"

Ay, then indeed something would happen!

But what? For here her voice changed like a bird's; 690 There grew more of the music and less of the words; Had Jacynth only been by me to clap pen To paper and put you down every syllable With those clever clerkly fingers, All I've forgotten as well as what lingers In this old brain of mine that's but ill able To give you even this poor version Of the speech I spoil, as it were, with stammering --More fault of those who had the hammering Of prosody into me and syntax 700 And did it, not with hobnails but tintacks!

But to return from this excursion-- Just, do you mark, when the song was sweetest, The peace most deep and the charm completest, There came, shall I say, a snap-- And the charm vanished!

And my sense returned, so strangely banished, And, starting as from a nap, I knew the crone was bewitching my lady, With Jacynth asleep; and but one spring made I 710 Down from the cas.e.m.e.nt, round to the portal, Another minute and I had entered-- When the door opened, and more than mortal Stood, with a face where to my mind centred All beauties I ever saw or shall see, The d.u.c.h.ess: I stopped as if struck by palsy.

She was so different, happy and beautiful, I felt at once that all was best, And that I had nothing to do, for the rest But wait her commands, obey and be dutiful. 720 Not that, in fact, there was any commanding; I saw the glory of her eye, And the brow's height and the breast's expanding, And I was hers to live or to die.

As for finding what she wanted, You know G.o.d Almighty granted Such little signs should serve wild creatures To tell one another all their desires, So that each knows what his friend requires, And does its bidding without teachers. 730 I preceded her; the crone Followed silent and alone; I spoke to her, but she merely jabbered In the old style; both her eyes had slunk Back to their pits; her stature shrunk; In short, the soul in its body sunk Like a blade sent home to its scabbard.