Ch. I must have a woman that can sympathise with, and appreciate me, I told you.
Ogni. Oh, I remember! you, the greater nature, needs must have a lesser one ( — avowedly lesser — contest with you on that score would never do!) — such a nature must comprehend you, as the phrase is, accompany and testify of your greatness from point to point onward: why, that were being not merely as great as yourself, but greater considerably! Mean-time, might not the more bounded nature as reasonably count on your appreciation of it, rather? — on your keeping close by it, so far as you both go together, and then going on by yourself as far as you please? So God serves us!
Ch. And yet a woman that could understand the whole of me, to whom I could reveal alike the strength and the weakness —
Ogni. Ah, my friend, wish for nothing so foolish! Worship your love, give her the best of you to see; be to her like the Western Lands (they bring us such strange news of) to the Spanish Court — send her only your lumps of gold, fans of feathers, your spirit-like birds, and fruits and gems — so shall you, what is unseen of you, be supposed altogether a Paradise by her, — as these Western lands by Spain — tho’ I warrant there is filth, red baboons, ugly reptiles and squalor enough, which they bring Spain as few samples of as possible. Do you want your mistress to respect your body generally? Offer her your mouth to kiss — don’t strip off your boot and put your foot to her lips! You understand my humour by this time? I help men to carry out their own principle: if they please to say two and two make five, I assent, if they will but go on and say, four and four make ten!
Ch. But these are my private affairs — what I desire you to occupy yourself about, is my public appearance presently: for when the people hear that I am appointed Provost, tho’ you and I may thoroughly discern — and easily, too — the right principle at bottom of such a movement, and how my republicanism remains thoroughly unaltered, only takes a form of expression hitherto commonly judged . . . and heretofore by myself . . . incompatible with its existence . . . when thus I reconcile myself to an old form of government instead of proposing a new one . . .
Ogni. Why, you must deal with people broadly. Begin at a distance from this matter and say, — new truths, old truths! why, there is nothing new possible to be revealed to us in the moral world — we know all we shall ever know, and it is for simply reminding us, by their various respective expedients, how we do know this and the other matter, that men get called prophets, poets and the like. A philosopher’s life is spent in discovering that, of the half-dozen truths he knew when a child, such an one is a lie, as the world states it in set terms; and then, after a weary lapse of years, and plenty of hard thinking, it becomes a truth again after all, as he happens to newly consider it and view it in a different relation with the others — and so he restates it, to the confusion of somebody else in good time. — As for adding to the original stock of truths, — impossible! — So you see the expression of them is the grand business: — you have got a truth in your head about the right way of governing people, and you took a mode of expressing it — which now you confess to be imperfect — but what then? There is Truth in Falsehood, Falsehood in Truth. — No man ever told one great truth, that I know, without the help of a good dozen of lies at least, generally unconscious ones: and as when a child comes in breathlessly and relates a strange story, you try to conjecture from the very falsities in it, what the reality was, — do not conclude that he saw nothing in the sky, because he assuredly did not see a flying horse there as he says, — so, thro’ the contradictory expression, do you see, men should look painfully for, and trust to arrive eventually at, what you call the true principle at bottom. Ah, what an answer is there! to what will it not prove applicable! — ”Contradictions?” — Of course there were, say you!
Ch. Still, the world at large may call it inconsistency, and what shall I say in reply?
Ogni. Why look you, when they tax you with tergiversation or duplicity, you may answer — you begin to perceive that, when all’s done and said, both great parties in the state, the advocators of change in the present system of things, and the opponents of it, patriot and anti-patriot, are found working together for the common good, and that in the midst of their efforts for and against its progress, the world somehow or other still advances — to which result they contribute in equal proportions, those who spent their life in pushing it onward as those who gave theirs to the business of pulling it back — now, if you found the world stand still between the opposite forces, and were glad, I should conceive you — but it steadily advances, you rejoice to see! By the side of such a rejoicer, the man who only winks as he keeps cunning and quiet, and says, “Let yonder hot-headed fellow fight out my battle; I, for one, shall win in the end by the blows he gives, and which I ought to be giving” — even he seems graceful in his avowal, when one considers that he might say, “I shall win quite as much by the blows our antagonist gives him, and from which he saves me — I thank the antagonist equally!” Moreover, you must enlarge on the loss of the edge of party-animosity with age and experience —
Ch. And naturally time must wear off such asperities — the bitterest adversaries get to discover certain points of similarity between each other, common sympathies — do they not?
Ogni. Ay, had the young David but sate first to dine on his cheeses with the Philistine, he had soon discovered an abundance of such common sympathies — He of Gath, it is recorded, was born of a father and mother, had brothers and sisters like another man, — they, no more than the sons of Jesse, were used to eat each other; but, for the sake of one broad antipathy that had existed from the beginning, David slung the stone, cut off the giant’s head, made a spoil of it, and after ate his cheeses alone, with the better appetite, for all I can learn. My friend, as you, with a quickened eye-sight, go on discovering much good on the worse side, remember that the same process should proportionably magnify and demonstrate to you the much more good on the better side — and when I profess no sympathy for the Goliahs of our time, and you object that a large nature should sympathise with every form of intelligence, and see the good in it, however limited — I answer, so I do — but preserve the proportions of my sympathy, however finelier or widelier I may extend its action. I desire to be able, with a quickened eyesight, to descry beauty in corruption where others see foulness only, — but I hope I shall also continue to see a redoubled beauty in the higher forms of matter, where already every body sees no foulness at all. I must retain, too, my old power of selection, and choice of appropriation, to apply to such new gifts . . . else they only dazzle instead of enlightening me. God has his Archangels and consorts with them — tho’ he made too, and intimately sees what is good in, the worm. Observe, I speak only as you profess to think and so ought to speak — I do justice to your own principles, that is all!
Ch. But you very well know that the two parties do, on occasion, assume each other’s characteristics: what more disgusting, for instance, than to see how promptly the newly emancipated slave will adopt, in his own favour, the very measures of precaution, which pressed soreliest on himself as institutions of the tyranny he has just escaped from. — Do the classes, hitherto without opinion, get leave to express it? there is a confederacy immediately, from which — exercise your individual right and dissent, and woe be to you!
Ogni. And a journey over the sea to you! — That is the generous way. Say — emancipated slaves, the first excess, and off I go! The first time a poor devil, who has been bastinadoed steadily his whole life long, finds himself let alone and able to legislate, so begins pettishly, while he rubs his soles, “Woe be to whoever brings anything in the shape of a stick this way,” — you, rather than give up the very innocent pleasure of carrying one to switch flies with, — you, go away to everybody’s sorrow! Yet you were quite reconciled to staying at home while the governors used to pass, every now and then, some such edict as “Let no man indulge in owning a stick which is not thick enough to chastise our slaves, if need require.” Well — there are pr
e-ordained hierarchies among us, and a profane vulgar subjected to a different law altogether — yet I am rather sorry you should see it so clearly — for, do you know what is to . . . all but save you at the Day of Judgment, all you Men of Genius? It is this — that, while you generally began by pulling down God, and went on to the end of your life, in one effort at setting up your own Genius in his place, — still, the last, bitterest concession wrung with the utmost unwillingness from the experience of the very loftiest of you, was invariably — would one think it? — that the rest of mankind, down to the lowest of the mass, stood not, nor ever could stand, just on a level and equality with yourselves. — That will be a point in the favour of all such, I hope and believe!
Ch. Why, men of genius are usually charged, I think, with doing just the reverse; and at once acknowledging the natural inequality of mankind, by themselves participating in the universal craving after, and deference to, the civil distinctions which represent it. You wonder they pay such undue respect to titles and badges of superior rank!
Ogni. Not I! (always on your own ground and showing, be it noted!) Who doubts that, with a weapon to brandish, a man is the more formidable? Titles and badges are exercised as such a weapon, to which you and I look up wistfully. — We could pin lions with it moreover, while in its present owner’s hands it hardly prods rate. Nay, better than a mere weapon of easy mastery and obvious use, it is a mysterious divining rod that may serve you in undreamed of ways. — Beauty, Strength, Intellect — men often have none of these and yet conceive pretty accurately what kind of advantages they would bestow on the possessor. — You know at least what it is you make up your mind to forego, and so can apply the fittest substitute in your power; wanting Beauty, you cultivate Good Humour, missing Wit, you get Riches; but the mystic unimaginable operation of that gold collar and string of Latin names which suddenly turned poor stupid little peevish Cecco of our town into natural Lord of the best of us — a Duke, he is now! there indeed is a Virtue to be reverenced!
Ch. Ay, by the vulgar — not by Messere Stiatta the poet, who pays more assiduous court to him than any body.
Ogni. What else should Stiatta pay court to? He has talent, not honour and riches — men naturally covet what they have not.
Ch. No — or Cecco would covet talent, which he has not, whereas he covets more riches, of which he has plenty already.
Ogni. Because a purse added to a purse makes the holder twice as rich — but just such another talent as Stiatta’s, added to what he now possesses, what would that profit him? Give the talent a purse indeed, to do something with! But lo, how we keep the good people waiting. I only desired to do justice to the noble sentiments which animate you, and which you are too modest to duly enforce. Come, to our main business: shall we ascend the steps? I am going to propose you for Provost to the people; they know your antecedents, and will accept you with a joyful unanimity: whereon I confirm their choice. Rouse up! you are nerving yourself to an effort? Beware the disaster of Messere Stiatta we were talking of — who determining to keep an equal mind and constant face on whatever might be the fortune of his last new poem with our townsmen, — heard too plainly “hiss, hiss, hiss,” increase every moment, till at last the man fell senseless — not perceiving that the portentous sounds had all the while been issuing from between his own nobly clenched teeth, and nostrils narrowed by resolve!
Ch. Do you begin to throw off the mask? to jest with me, having got me effectually into your trap?
Ogni. Where is the trap, my friend? You hear what I engage to do, for my part — you, for yours, have only to fulfil your promise made just now within doors, of professing unlimited obedience to Rome’s authority in my person — and I shall authorise no more than the simple re-establishment of the Provostship and the conferment of its privileges upon yourself — the only novel stipulation being a birth of the peculiar circumstances of the time.
Ch. And that stipulation?
Ogni. Oh, the obvious one — that in the event of the discovery of the actual assailant of the late Provost . . .
Ch. Ha!
Ogni. Why, he shall suffer the proper penalty, of
course; what did you expect?
Ch. Who heard of this?
Ogni. Rather, who needed to hear of this?
Ch. Can it be, the popular rumour never reached you . . .
Ogni. Many more such rumours reach me, friend, than I choose to receive: those which wait longest have best chance — has the present one sufficiently waited? Now is its time for entry with effect. See the good people crowding about yonder palace-steps — which we may not have to ascend after all I — my good friends — (nay, two or three of you will answer every purpose) — who was it fell upon and proved nearly the death of your late Provost? — his successor desires to hear, that his day of inauguration may be graced by the act of prompt, bare justice we all anticipate? Who dealt the blow that night, does anybody know?
Luitolfo. [coming forward.] I!
All. Luitolfo!
Luit. I avow the deed, justify and approve it, and stand forth now, to relieve my friend of an unearned responsibility. — Having taken thought, I am grown stronger — I shall shrink from nothing that awaits me. Nay, Chiappino — we are friends still — I dare say there is some proof of your superior nature in this starting aside, strange as it seems at first. So, they tell me, my horse is of the right stock, because a shadow in the path frightens him into a frenzy, makes him dash my brains out. I understand only the dull mule’s way of standing stockishly, plodding soberly, suffering on occasion a blow or two with due patience.
Eu. I was determined to justify my choice, Chiappino; to let Luitolfo’s nature vindicate itself. Henceforth we are undivided, whatever be our fortune.
Ogni. Now, in these last ten minutes of silence, what have I been doing, deem you? Putting the finishing stroke to a homily of mine, I have long taken thought to perfect, on the text “Let whoso thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall.” To your house, Luitolfo! — Still silent, my patriotic friend? Well, that is a good sign, however! And you will go aside for a time? That is better still. I understand — it would be easy for you to die of remorse here on the spot, and shock us all, but you will live and grow worthy of coming back to us one day. There, I will tell every body; and you only do right to believe you will get better as you get older! All men do so, — they are worst in childhood, improve in manhood, and get ready in old age for another world. Youth, with its Beauty and Grace, would seem bestowed on us for some such reason as to make us partly endurable till we have time for really becoming so of ourselves, without their aid, when they leave us. The sweetest child we all smile on for his pleasant want of the whole world to break up, or suck in his mouth, seeing no other good in it — would be rudely handled by that world’s inhabitants, if he retained those angelic infantine desires when he has grown six feet high, black and bearded: but, little by little, he sees fit to forego claim after claim on the world, puts up with a less and less share of its good as his proper portion, — and when the octogenarian asks barely a sup of gruel and a fire of dry sticks, and thanks you as for his full allowance and right in the common good of life, — hoping nobody may murder him, — he who began by asking and expecting the whole of us to bow down in worship to him, — why, I say he is advanced, far onward, very far, nearly out of sight like our friend Chiappino yonder!
And now — (Ay, good bye to you! He turns round the North-west gate-going to Lugo again? Good bye!) — And now give thanks to God, the keys of the Provost’s Palace to me, and yourselves to profitable meditation at home. I have known Four-and-twenty leaders of revolts! —
HERAKLES
A TRANSCRIPT FROM EURIPIDES: BEING THE LAST ADVENTURE OF BALAUSTION .
I eat no carrion; when you sacrifice
Some cleanly creature — call me for a slice!
PERSONS IN THE TRANSCRIBED PLAY OF “HERAKLES”
Amphitruon
Megara
Lukos
Herakles
Iris
Lutta ( Madness )
Messenger
Theseus
Choros of Aged Thebans
HERAKLES
AMPHITRUON.
Zeus’ Couchmate, — who of mortals knows not me,
Argive Amphitruon whom Alkaios sired
Of old, as Perseus him, I — Herakles?
My home, this Thebai where the earth-born spike
Of Sown-ones burgeoned: Ares saved from these
A handful of their seed that stocks to-day
With children’s children Thebai, Kadmos built.
Of these had Kreon birth, Menoikeus’ child,
King of the country, — Kreon that became
The father of this woman, Megara,
Whom, when time was, Kadmeians one and all
Pealed praise to, marriage-songs with fluted help,
While to my dwelling that grand Herakles
Bore her, his bride. But, leaving Thebes — where I
Abode perforce — this Megara and those
Her kinsmen, the desire possessed my son
Rather to dwell in Argos, that walled work,
Kuklopian city, which I fly, myself,
Robert Browning - Delphi Poets Series Page 295