- A plain safe
intermediate way is cleft
By reason foiling
passion: you that rave
Of mad alternatives to right and left
Echo the tempter, madam: and 'tis due
Unto your sex to shun it as the grave,
This later apple offered you.
XXXIV
- This apple is not ripe, it is not sweet;
Nor rosy, sir, nor golden: eye and mouth
Are little wooed by it; yet we would eat.
We are somewhat tired of Eden, is our plea.
We have thirsted long; this apple suits our drouth:
'Tis good for men to halve, think we.
XXXV
- But say, what seek you, madam? 'Tis enough
That you should have
dominion o'er the springs
Domestic and man's heart: those ways, how rough,
How vile, outside the
stately avenue
Where you walk sheltered by your angel's wings,
Are happily unknown to you.
XXXVI
- We hear women's shrieks on them. We like your phrase,
Dominion domestic! And that roar,
'What seek you?' is of tyrants in all days.
Sir, get you something of our purity
And we will of your strength: we ask no more.
That is the sum of what seek we.
XXXVII
- O for an image, madam, in one word,
To show you as the
lightning night reveals,
Your error and your perils: you have erred
In mind only, and the perils that ensue
Swift heels may
soften;
wherefore to swift heels
Address your hopes of safety you!
XXXVIII
- To err in mind, sir . . . your friend smiles: he may!
To err in mind, if err in mind we can,
Is
grievous error you do well to stay.
But O how different from reality
Men's
fiction is! how like you in the plan,
Is woman, knew you her as we!
XXXIX
- Look, lady, where yon river winds its line
Toward
sunset, and receives on breast and face
The splendour of fair life: to be divine,
'Tis nature bids you be to nature true,
Flowing with beauty, lending earth your grace,
Reflecting heaven in
clearness you.
XL
- Sir, you speak well: your friend no word vouchsafes.
To flow with beauty,
breeding fools and worse,
Cowards and worse: at such fair life she chafes,
Who is not
wholly of the nursery,
Nor of your schools: we share the primal curse;
Together shake it off, say we!
XLI
- Hear, then, my friend, madam! Tongue-restrained he stands
Till words are thoughts, and thoughts, like swords enriched
With traceries of the artificer's hands,
Are fire-proved steel to cut, fair flowers to view. -
Do I hear him? Oh, he is bewitched, bewitched!
Heed him not! Traitress beauties you!
XLII
- We have won a
champion, sisters, and a sage!
- Ladies, you win a guest to a good feast!
- Sir
spokesman, sneers are
weakness veiling rage.
- Of
weakness, and wise men, you have the key.
- Then are there fresher mornings mounting East
Than ever yet have dawned, sing we!
XLIII
- False ends as false began, madam, be sure!
- What lure there is the pure cause purifies!
- Who purifies the
victim of the lure?
- That soul which bids us our high light pursue.
- Some heights are measured down: the wary wise
Shun Reason in the masque with you!
XLIV
- Sir, for the friend you bring us, take our thanks.
Yes, Beauty was of old this
barren goal;
A thing with claws; and brute-like in her pranks!
But could she give more loyal guarantee
Than wooing Wisdom, that in her a soul
Has risen? Adieu: content are we!
XLV
Those ladies led their
captive to the flood's
Green edge. He floating with them seemed the most
Fool-flushed old noddy ever crowned with buds.
Happier than I! Then, why not wiser too?
For he that lives with Beauty, he may boast
His comrade over me and you.
XLVI
Have women nursed some dream since Helen sailed
Over the sea of blood the blushing star,
That beauty, whom frail man as Goddess hailed,
When not possessing her (for such is he!),
Might in a wondering season seen afar,
Be tamed to say not 'I,' but 'we'?
XLVII
And shall they make of Beauty their estate,
The
fortress and the
weapon of their sex?
Shall she in her frost-brilliancy dictate,
More queenly than of old, how we must woo,
Ere she will melt? The halter's on our necks,
Kick as it likes us, I and you.
XLVIII
Certain it is, if Beauty has disdained
Her ancient conquests, with an aim thus high:
If this, if that, if more, the fight is gained.
But can she keep her followers without fee?
Yet ah! to hear anew those ladies cry,
He who's for us, for him are we!
THE TWO MASKS
Melpomene among her livid people,
Ere stroke of lyre, upon Thaleia looks,
Warned by old contests that one museful ripple
Along those lips of rose with tendril hooks
Forebodes
disturbance in the springs of pathos,
Perchance may change of masks
midway demand,
Albeit the man rise
mountainous as Athos,
The woman wild as Cape Leucadia stand.
II
For this the Comic Muse exacts of creatures
Appealing to the fount of tears: that they
Strive never to outleap our human features,
And do Right Reason's
ordinance obey,
In peril of the hum to
laughter nighest.
But prove they under
stress of action's fire
Nobleness, to that test of Reason highest,
She bows: she waves them for the loftier lyre.
ARCHDUCHESS ANNE
1--I
In middle age an evil thing
Befell Archduchess Anne:
She looked outside her wedding-ring
Upon a
princely man.
II
Count Louis was for horse and arms;
And if its
beacon waved,
For love; but ladies had not charms
To match a danger braved.
III
On battlefields he was the bow
Bestrung to fly the shaft:
In idle hours his heart would flow
As winds on currents waft.
IV
His blood was of those
warrior tribes
That streamed from morning's fire,
Whom now with traps and now with bribes
The wily Council wire.
V
Archduchess Anne the Council ruled,
Count Louis his great dame;
And woe to both when one had cooled!
Little was she to blame.
VI
Among her chiefs who spun their plots,
Old Kraken stood the sword:
As sharp his wits for cutting knots
Of
babble he abhorred.
VII
He reverenced her name and line,
Nor other merit had
Save soldierwise to wait her sign,
And do the deed she bade.
VIII
He saw her hand jump at her side
Ere royally she smiled
On Louis and his fair young bride
Where courtly ranks defiled.
IX
That was a moment when a shock
Through the
procession ran,
And thrilled the plumes, and stayed the clock,
Yet smiled Archduchess Anne.
X
No touch gave she to hound in leash,
No wink to sword in sheath:
She seemed a woman
scarce of flesh;
Above it, or beneath.
XI
Old Kraken spied with kennelled snarl,
His Lady deemed disgraced.
He footed as on burning marl,
When out of Hall he paced.
XII
'Twas seen he hammered striding legs,
And stopped, and
strode again.
Now Vengeance has a brood of eggs,
But Patience must be hen.
XIII
Too slow are they for wrath to hatch,
Too hot for time to rear.
Old Kraken kept unwinding watch;
He marked his day appear.
XIV
He neighed a laugh, though moods were rough
With standards in revolt:
His nostrils took the news for snuff,
His smacking lips for salt.
XV