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Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey

Page 142

by Robert Southey


  And swells the woven gold,

  That on the agitated air

  Flutters and glitters to the torch’s glare.

  7

  A man and maid of aspect wan and wild,

  Then, side by side, by bowmen guarded, came;

  O wretched father! O unhappy child!

  Them were all eyes of all the throng exploring...

  Is this the daring man

  Who raised his fatal hand at Arvalan?

  Is this the wretch condemn’d to feel

  Kehama’s dreadful wrath?

  Then were all hearts of all the throng deploring;

  For not in that innumerable throng

  Was one who loved the dead; for who could know

  What aggravated wrong

  Provoked the desperate blow!

  8

  Far, far behind, beyond all reach of sight,

  In order’d files the torches flow along,

  One ever-lengthening line of gliding light:

  Far... far behind,

  Rolls on the undistinguishable clamour,

  Of horn, and trump, and tambour;

  Incessant as the roar

  Of streams which down the wintry mountain pour,

  And louder than the dread commotion

  Of breakers on a rocky shore,

  When the winds rage over the waves,

  And Ocean to the Tempest raves.

  9

  And now toward the bank they go,

  Where winding on their way below,

  Deep and strong the waters flow.

  Here doth the funeral pile appear

  With myrrh and ambergris bestrew’d,

  And built of precious sandal wood.

  They cease their music and their outcry here,

  Gently they rest the bier;

  They wet the face of Arvalan,

  No sign of life the sprinkled drops excite;

  They feel his breast,... no motion there;

  They feel his lips,... no breath;

  For not with feeble, nor with erring hand,

  The brave avenger dealt the blow of death.

  Then with a doubling peal and deeper blast,

  The tambours and the trumpets sound on high,

  And with a last and loudest cry,

  They call on Arvalan.

  10

  Woe! woe! for Azla takes her seat

  Upon the funeral pile!

  Calmly she took her seat,

  Calmly the whole terrific pomp survey’d;

  As on her lap the while

  The lifeless head of Arvalan was laid.

  11

  Woe! woe! Nealliny,

  The young Nealliny!

  They strip her ornaments away,

  Bracelet and anklet, ring, and chain, and zone;

  Around her neck they leave

  The marriage knot alone,...

  That marriage band, which when

  Yon waning moon was young,

  Around her virgin neck

  With bridal joy was hung.

  Then with white flowers, the coronal of death,

  Her jetty locks they crown.

  12

  O sight of misery!

  You cannot hear her cries,... their sound

  In that wild dissonance is drown’d;...

  But in her face you see

  The supplication and the agony,...

  See in her swelling throat the desperate strength

  That with vain effort struggles yet for life;

  Her arms contracted now in fruitless strife,

  Now wildly at full length

  Towards the crowd in vain for pity spread,...

  They force her on, they bind her to the dead.

  13

  Then all around retire;

  Circling the pile, the ministering Bramins stand,

  Each lifting in his hand a torch on fire.

  Alone the Father of the dead advanced

  And lit the funeral pyre.

  14

  At once on every side

  The circling torches drop,

  At once on every side

  The fragrant oil is pour’d,

  At once on every side

  The rapid flames rush up.

  Then hand in hand the victim band

  Roll in the dance around the funeral pyre;

  Their garments’ flying folds

  Float inward to the fire;

  In drunken whirl they wheel around;

  One drops,... another plunges in;

  And still with overwhelming din

  The tambours and the trumpets sound;

  And clap of hand, and shouts, and cries,

  From all the multitude arise;

  While round and round, in giddy wheel,

  Intoxicate they roll and reel,

  Till one by one whirl’d in they fall,

  And the devouring flames have swallow’d all.

  15

  Then all was still; the drums and clarions ceased;

  The multitude were hush’d in silent awe;

  Only the roaring of the flames was heard.

  II. THE CURSE

  1

  Alone towards the Table of the Dead

  Kehama moved; there on the alter-stone

  Honey and rice he spread.

  There with collected voice and painful tone

  He call’d upon his son.

  Lo! Arvalan appears;

  Only Kehama’s powerful eye beheld

  The thin ethereal spirit hovering nigh;

  Only the Rajah’s ear

  Received his feeble breath.

  “And is this all?” the mournful Spirit said,

  “This all that thou canst give me after death?

  This unavailing pomp,

  These empty pageantries that mock the dead!”

  2

  In bitterness the Rajah heard,

  And groan’d, and smote his breast,and o’er his face

  Cowl’d the white mourning vest.

  3

  ARVALAN

  “Art thou not powerful,... even like a God?

  And must I, through my years of wandering,

  Shivering and naked to the elements,

  In wretchedness await

  The hour of Yamen’s wrath?

  I thought thou wouldst embody me anew,

  Undying as I am,...

  Yea, re-create me!... Father, is this all?

  This all? and thou Almighty!”

  4

  But in that wrongful and upbraiding tone,

  Kehama found relief,

  For rising anger half supprest his grief.

  “Reproach not me!” he cried,

  “Had I not spell-secured thee from disease,

  Fire, sword,... all common accidents of man,...

  And thou!... fool, fool... to perish by a stake!

  And by a peasant’s arm!...

  Even now, when from reluctant Heaven,

  Forcing new gifts and mightier attributes,

  So soon I should have quell’d the Death-God’s power.”

  5

  “Waste not thy wrath on me,” quoth Arvalan,

  “It was my hour of folly! Fate prevail’d,

  Nor boots it to reproach me that I fell.

  I am in misery, Father! Other souls

  Predoom’d to Indra’s Heaven, enjoy the dawn

  Of bliss,... to them the temper’d elements

  Minister joy: genial delight the sun

  Sheds on their happy being, and the stars

  Effuse on them benignant influences;

  And thus o’er earth and air they roam at will,

  And when the number of their days is full,

  Go fearlessly before the aweful throne.

  But I,... all naked feeling and raw life,...

  What worse than this hath Yamen’s hell in store?

  If ever thou didst love me, mercy, Father!

  Save me, for thou canst save... the Elements

&n
bsp; Know and obey thy voice.”

  6

  KEHAMA

  “The Elements

  Shall sin no more against thee; whilst I speak

  Already dost thou feel their power is gone.

  Fear not! I cannot call again the past,

  Fate hath made that its own; but Fate shall yield

  To me the future; and thy doom be fix’d

  By mine, not Yamen’s will. Meantime all power

  Whereof thy feeble spirit can be made

  Participant, I give. Is there aught else

  To mitigate thy lot?”

  ARVALAN

  “Only the sight of vengeance. Give me that!

  Vengeance, full, worthy, vengeance!... not the stroke

  Of sudden punishment,... no agony

  That spends itself and leaves the wretch at rest,

  But lasting long revenge.”

  KEHAMA

  “What, boy? is that cup sweet? then take thy fill!”

  7

  So as he spake, a glow of dreadful pride

  Inflamed his cheek, with quick and angry stride

  He moved toward the pile,

  And raised his hand to hush the crowd, and cried,

  “Bring forth the murderer!” At the Rajah’s voice

  Calmly, and like a man whom fear had stunn’d,

  Ladurlad came, obedient to the call;

  But Kailyal started at the sound,

  And gave a womanly shriek, and back she drew,

  And eagerly she roll’d her eyes around,

  As if to seek for aid, albeit she knew

  No aid could there be found.

  8

  It chanced that near her on the river brink,

  The sculptured form of Marriataly stood;

  It was an Idol roughly hewn of wood,

  Artless, and mean, and rude;

  The Goddess of the poor was she;

  None else regarded her with piety.

  But when that holy Image Kailyal view’d,

  To that she sprung, to that she clung,

  On her own Goddess, with close-clasping arms,

  For life the maiden hung.

  9

  They seized the maid; with unrelenting grasp

  They bruised her tender limbs;

  She, nothing yielding, to this only hope

  Clings with the strength of frenzy and despair.

  She screams not now, she breathes not now,

  She sends not up one vow,

  She forms not in her soul one secret prayer,

  All thought, all feeling, and all powers of life

  In the one effort centering. Wrathful they

  With tug and strain would force the maid away;...

  Didst thou, O Marriataly, see their strife,

  In pity didst thou see the suffering maid?

  Or was thine anger kindled, that rude hands

  Assail’d thy holy Image?... for behold

  The holy image shakes!

  10

  Irreverently bold, they deem the maid

  Relax’d her stubborn hold,

  And now with force redoubled drag their prey;

  And now the rooted Idol to their sway

  Bends,... yields,... and now it falls.

  But then they scream,

  For lo! they feel the crumbling bank give way,

  And all are plunged into the stream.

  11

  “She hath escaped my will,” Kehama cried,

  “She hath escaped,... but thou art here,

  I have thee still,

  The worser criminal!”

  And on Ladurlad, while he spake, severe

  He fix’d his dreadful frown.

  The strong reflection of the pile

  Lit his dark lineaments,

  Lit the protruded brow, the gathered front,

  The steady eye of wrath.

  12

  But while the fearful silence yet endured,

  Ladurlad roused himself;

  Ere yet the voice of destiny

  Which trembled on the Rajah’s lips was loosed,

  Eager he interposed,

  As if despair had waken’d him to hope;

  “Mercy! oh mercy! only in defence...

  Only instinctively,...

  Only to save my child, I smote the Prince;

  King of the world, be merciful!

  Crush me,... but torture not!”

  13

  The Man-Almighty deign’d him no reply,

  Still he stood silent; in no human mood

  Of mercy, in no hesitating thought

  Of right and justice. At the length he raised

  His brow yet unrelax’d,... his lips unclosed,

  And uttered from the heart,

  With the whole feeling of his soul enforced,

  The gathered vengeance came.

  14

  “I charm thy life

  From the weapons of strife,

  From stone and from wood,

  From fire and from flood,

  From the serpent’s tooth,

  And the beasts of blood:

  From Sickness I charm thee,

  And Time shall not harm thee;

  But Earth which is mine,

  Its fruits shall deny thee;

  And Water shall hear me,

  And know thee and fly thee;

  And the Winds shall not touch thee

  When they pass by thee,

  And the Dews shall not wet thee,

  When they fall nigh thee:

  And thou shalt seek Death

  To release thee, in vain;

  Thou shalt live in thy pain

  While Kehama shall reign,

  With a fire in thy heart,

  And a fire in thy brain;

  And Sleep shall obey me,

  And visit thee never,

  And the Curse shall be on thee

  For ever and ever.”

  15

  There where the Curse had stricken him,

  There stood the miserable man,

  There stood Ladurlad, with loose-hanging arms;

  And eyes of idiot wandering.

  Was it a dream? alas,

  He heard the river flow,

  He heard the crumbling of the pile,

  He heard the wind which shower’d

  The thin white ashes round.

  There motionless he stood,

  As if he hoped it were a dream,

  And feared to move, lest he should prove

  The actual misery;

  And still at times he met Kehama’s eye,

  Kehama’s eye that fastened on him still.

  * * *

  III. THE RECOVERY.

  1.

  The Rajah turn’d toward the pile again,

  Loud rose the song of death from all the crowd;

  Their din the instruments begin,

  And once again join in

  With overwhelming sound.

  Ladurlad starts,... he looks around.

  What hast thou here in view,

  O wretched man, in this disastrous scene?

  The soldier train, the Bramins who renew

  Their ministry around the funeral pyre,

  The empty palankeens,

  The dimly-fading fire.

  Where too is she whom most his heart held dear,

  His best-beloved Kailyal, where is she,

  The solace and the joy of many a year

  Of widowhood! is she then gone,

  And is he left all-utterly alone,

  To bear his blasting curse, and none

  To succour or deplore him?

  He staggers from the dreadful spot; the throng

  Give way in fear before him;

  Like one who carries pestilence about,

  Shuddering they shun him, where he moves along.

  And now he wanders on

  Beyond the noisy rout;

  He cannot fly and leave his curse behind,

  Yet doth he seem to find


  A comfort in the change of circumstance.

  Adown the shore he strays,

  Unknowing where his wretched feet may rest,

  But farthest from the fatal place is best.

  2.

  By this in the orient sky appears the gleam

  Of day. Lo! what is yonder in the stream,

  Down the slow river floating slow,

  In distance indistinct and dimly seen?

  The childless one with idle eye

  Followed its motion thoughtlessly;

  Idly he gaz’d, unknowing why,

  And half unconscious that he watch’d its way.

  Belike it is a tree

  Which some rude tempest, in its sudden sway,

  Tore from the rock, or from the hollow shore

  The undermining stream hath swept away.

  3.

  But when anon outswelling by its side,

  A woman’s robe he spied,

  Oh then Ladurlad started,

  As one, who in his grave

  Had heard an angel’s call.

  Yea, Marriataly, thou hast deign’d to save!

  Yea, Goddess! it is she,

  To thy dear image clinging senselessly,

  And thus in happy hour

  Upborne amid the wave

  By that preserving power.

  4.

  Headlong in hope and in joy

  Ladurlad dash’d in the water.

  The water knew Kehama’s spell,

  The water shrunk before him.

  Blind to the miracle,

  He rushes to his daughter,

  And treads the river-depths in transport wild,

  And clasps and saves his child.

  5.

  Upon the farther side a level shore

  Of sand was spread: thither Ladurlad bore

  His daughter, holding still with senseless hand

  The saving Goddess; there upon the sand

  He laid the livid maid,

  Rais’d up against his knees her drooping head;

  Bent to her lips,... her lips as pale as death,...

  If he might, feel her breath,

  His own the while in hope and dread suspended;

  Chaf’d her cold breast, and ever and anon

 

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