The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Volume II Part 133
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Volume II Part 133

_Ordonio._ What boots it, who or when?

Hang up thy torch--I'll tell his tale to thee. 100

[_They hang up their torches on some ridge in the cavern._

He was a man different from other men, And he despised them, yet revered himself.

_Isidore (aside)._ He? He despised? Thou'rt speaking of thyself!

I am on my guard, however: no surprise. [_Then to ORDONIO._ What, he was mad?

_Ordonio._ All men seemed mad to him! 105 Nature had made him for some other planet, And pressed his soul into a human shape By accident or malice. In this world He found no fit companion.

_Isidore._ Of himself he speaks. [_Aside._ Alas! poor wretch! 110 Mad men are mostly proud.

_Ordonio._ He walked alone, And phantom thoughts unsought-for troubled him.

Something within would still be shadowing out All possibilities; and with these shadows His mind held dalliance. Once, as so it happened, 115 A fancy crossed him wilder than the rest: To this in moody murmur and low voice He yielded utterance, as some talk in sleep: The man who heard him.-- Why did'st thou look round?

_Isidore._ I have a prattler three years old, my lord! 120 In truth he is my darling. As I went From forth my door, he made a moan in sleep-- But I am talking idly--pray proceed!

And what did this man?

_Ordonio._ With this human hand He gave a substance and reality 125 To that wild fancy of a possible thing.-- Well it was done!

Why babblest thou of guilt?

The deed was done, and it pa.s.sed fairly off.

And he whose tale I tell thee--dost thou listen?

_Isidore._ I would, my lord, you were by my fire-side, 130 I'd listen to you with an eager eye, Though you began this cloudy tale at midnight, But I do listen--pray proceed, my lord.

_Ordonio._ Where was I?

_Isidore._ He of whom you tell the tale--

_Ordonio._ Surveying all things with a quiet scorn, 135 Tamed himself down to living purposes, The occupations and the semblances Of ordinary men--and such he seemed!

But that same over ready agent--he--

_Isidore._ Ah! what of him, my lord?

_Ordonio._ He proved a traitor, 140 Betrayed the mystery to a brother-traitor, And they between them hatch'd a d.a.m.ned plot To hunt him down to infamy and death.

What did the Valdez? I am proud of the name Since he dared do it.--

[_ORDONIO grasps his sword, and turns off from ISIDORE, then after a pause returns._

Our links burn dimly. 145

_Isidore._ A dark tale darkly finished! Nay, my lord!

Tell what he did.

_Ordonio._ That which his wisdom prompted-- He made the traitor meet him in this cavern, And here he kill'd the traitor.

_Isidore._ No! the fool! 150 He had not wit enough to be a traitor.

Poor thick-eyed beetle! not to have foreseen That he who gulled thee with a whimpered lie To murder his own brother, would not scruple To murder thee, if e'er his guilt grew jealous, 155 And he could steal upon thee in the dark!

_Ordonio._ Thou would'st not then have come, if--

_Isidore._ Oh yes, my lord!

I would have met him arm'd, and scar'd the coward.

[_ISIDORE throws off his robe; shews himself armed, and draws his sword._

_Ordonio._ Now this is excellent and warms the blood! 160 My heart was drawing back, drawing me back With weak and womanish scruples. Now my vengeance Beckons me onwards with a warrior's mien, And claims that life, my pity robb'd her of-- Now will I kill thee, thankless slave, and count it 165 Among my comfortable thoughts hereafter.

_Isidore._ And all my little ones fatherless-- Die thou first.

[_They fight, ORDONIO disarms ISIDORE, and in disarming him throws his sword up that recess opposite to which they were standing. ISIDORE hurries into the recess with his torch, ORDONIO follows him; a loud cry of 'Traitor! Monster!' is heard from the cavern, and in a moment ORDONIO returns alone._

_Ordonio._ I have hurl'd him down the chasm! treason for treason.

He dreamt of it: henceforward let him sleep, A dreamless sleep, from which no wife can wake him. 170 His dream too is made out--Now for his friend.

[_Exit ORDONIO._

FOOTNOTES:

[859:1] 18-20. Compare _This Lime-Tree Bower my Prison_, ll. 17-20, p.

179. See note by J. D. Campbell, _P. W._, 1893, p. 651.

[860:1] 38-9. These two lines uttered in an under-voice, and timidly, as antic.i.p.ating Ordonio's sneer, and yet not able to disguise his own superst.i.tion. (_Marginal Note to First Edition._)

What trouble had I not, and at last almost fruitless, to teach De Camp the hurried under-voice with which Isidore should utter these two lines, as antic.i.p.ating Ordonio's scorn, and yet unable to suppress his own superst.i.tion--and yet De Camp, spite of voice, person, and inappropriate protrusion of the chest, understood and realised his part better than all the rest--to the man of sense, I mean. _MS. H_.

[861:1] 72-3. In the _Biographia Literaria_, 1817, ii. 73 Coleridge puts these lines into another shape:--

The simplest and the most familiar things Gain a strange power of spreading awe around them.

See note by J. D. Campbell, _P. W._, 1893, p. 651.

LINENOTES:

[After 12] [_He goes . . . moonlight: returns after a minute's elapse, in an extasy of fear._ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[13] pit] _pit_ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[18] _Ordonio (goes . . . returns, and with great scorn)._ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[20] _Isidore (forcing a laugh faintly.)_ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[47] ever] eve Edition 1.

[49] _Ordonio (interrupting him)._ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.