IV

So, at home, the sick, tall, yellow d.u.c.h.ess Was left with the infant in her clutches, 90 She being the daughter of G.o.d knows who: And now was the time to revisit her tribe.

Abroad and afar they went, the two, And let our people rail and gibe At the empty hall and extinguished fire, 95 As loud as we liked, but ever in vain, Till after long years we had our desire, And back came the Duke and his mother again.

V

And he came back the pertest little ape That ever affronted human shape; 100 Full of his travel, struck at himself.

You'd say he despised our bluff old ways?

--Not he! For in Paris they told the elf Our rough North land was the Land of Lays, The one good thing left in evil days; 105 Since the Mid-Age was the Heroic Time, And only in wild nooks like ours Could you taste of it yet as in its prime, And see true castles, with proper towers, Young-hearted women, old-minded men, 110 And manners now as manners were then.

So, all that the old Dukes had been, without knowing it, This Duke would fain know he was, without being it; 'Twas not for the joy's self, but the joy of his showing it, Nor for the pride's self, but the pride of our seeing it, 115 He revived all usages thoroughly worn-out, The souls of them fumed-forth, the hearts of them torn-out: And chief in the chase his neck he periled On a lathy horse, all legs and length, With blood for bone, all speed, no strength; 120 --They should have set him on red Berold With the red eye slow consuming in fire, And the thin stiff ear like an abbey-spire!

VI

Well, such as he was, he must marry, we heard: And out of a convent, at the word, 125 Came the lady in time of spring.

--Oh, old thoughts they cling, they cling!

That day, I know, with a dozen oaths I clad myself in thick hunting-clothes Fit for the chase of urochs or buffle 130 In winter-time when you need to m.u.f.fle.

But the Duke had a mind we should cut a figure, And so we saw the lady arrive: My friend, I have seen a white crane bigger!

She was the smallest lady alive, 135 Made in a piece of nature's madness, Too small, almost, for the life and gladness That overfilled her, as some hive Out of the bears' reach on the high trees Is crowded with its safe, merry bees: 140 In truth, she was not hard to please!

Up she looked, down she looked, round at the mead, Straight at the castle, that's best indeed To look at from outside the walls; As for us, styled the "serfs and thralls," 145 She as much thanked me as if she had said it, (With her eyes, do you understand?) Because I patted her horse while I led it; And Max, who rode on her other hand, Said, no bird flew past but she inquired 150 What its true name was, nor ever seemed tired-- If that was an eagle she saw hover, And the green and gray bird on the field was the plover.

When suddenly appeared the Duke: And as down she sprung, the small foot pointed 155 On to my hand--as with a rebuke, And as if his backbone were not jointed, The Duke stepped rather aside than forward, And welcomed her with his grandest smile; And, mind you, his mother all the while 160 Chilled in the rear, like a wind to Nor'ward; And up, like a weary yawn, with its pulleys Went, in a shriek, the rusty portcullis; And, like a glad sky the north-wind sullies, The lady's face stopped its play, 165 As if her first hair had grown gray; For such things must begin some one day.

VII

In a day or two she was well again; As who should say, "You labor in vain!

This is all a jest against G.o.d, who meant 170 I should ever be, as I am, content And glad in His sight; therefore, glad I will be."

So, smiling as at first, went she.

VIII

She was active, stirring, all fire-- Could not rest, could not tire-- 175 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, 185 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 195 Would let her advise, and criticize, 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, 205 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. 215

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, 225 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, 235 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, 245 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, Might hope for real hunters at length and not murderers, 250 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?" 255 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 265 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 275 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, 285 And duly acknowledged the Duke's forethought, 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, 295 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; 305 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 through all its quince-tinct. 315 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; 325 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; 335 For the courtyard walls were filled with fog You might have cut as an ax chops a log-- Like so much wool for color 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 plowed the fog up and drove it asunder This way and that from the valley under; 345 And, looking through the court-yard arch, Down in the valley, what should meet him But a troop of gypsies on their march?

No doubt with the annual gifts to greet him.

XIII

Now, in your land, gypsies 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 355 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 365 With side-bars never a brute can baffle; Or a lock that's a puzzle of wards within wards; Or, if your colt's forefoot 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 the gypsy gla.s.s-makers and potters!

Gla.s.ses they'll blow you, crystal-clear, 375 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, 385 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 395 To let that same witch tell us our fortune.

The oldest gypsy 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 405 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 seash.o.r.e stone holding a dozen fine pebbles), Or a porcelain mouthpiece to screw on a pipe-end-- 415 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-marten 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. 425 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 435 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, 445 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 fulfill, 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, 455 He bade me take the gypsy 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, 465 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, 475 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 unmistakable eye-points duly Live and aware looked out of their places. 485 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 anyone, 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.