Georgian Poetry 1911-1912 Part 14

Let us be off!" I stooped, took, shook the reins With one hand, while the other clasped her waist.

"Ah, who?" she turned; I smiled like amorous Zeus; A certain vagueness clouded her wild eyes As though she saw a swan, a bull, a shower Of hurried flames, and felt divinely pleased.

I cracked the whip and we were jolted down; A kiss was s.n.a.t.c.hed getting the ribbons straight; We hardly heard them first begin to bawl, So great our expedition towards the town: We flew. I pulled up at an inn, then bid them Stable my mules and chariot and prepare A meal for Dives; meanwhile we would stroll Down to the market. Took her arm in mine, And, out of sight, hurried her through cross-lanes, Bade her choose, now at a fruit, now pastry booth.

Until we gained my lodging she spoke little But often laughed, t.i.ttering from time to time, "O Bacchus, what a prank!--Just think of Cymon, So stout as he is, at least five miles to walk Without a carriage!--well you take things coolly"-- Or such appreciation nice of gifts I need not boast of, since I had them gratis.

When my stiff door creaked open grudgingly Her face first fell; the room looked bare enough.

Still we brought with us food and cakes; I owned A little cellar of delicious wine; An unasked neighbour's garden furnished flowers; Jests helped me nimbly, I surpa.s.sed myself; So we were friends and, having laughed, we drank, Ate, sang, danced, grew wild. Soon both had one Desire, effort, goal, One bed, one sleep, one dream ...

O Damon, Damon, both had one alarm, When woken by the door forced rudely open, Lit from the stair, bedazzled, glowered at, hated!

She clung to me; her master, husband, uncle (I know not which or what he was) stood there; It crossed my mind he might have been her father.

Naked, unarmed, I rose, and did a.s.sume What dignity is not derived from clothes, Bid them to quit my room, my private dwelling.

It was no use, for that gross beast was rich; Had his been neither legal right nor moral, My natural right was nought, for his she was In eyes of those bribed catchpolls. Brute revenge Seethed in his pimpled face: "To gaol with him!"

He shouted huskily. I wrapped some clothes About my shuddering bed-fellow, a sheet Flung round myself; ere she was led away, Had whispered to her "Shriek, faint on the stairs!"

Then I was seized by two dog officers.

That girl was worth her keep, for, going down, She suddenly writhed, gasped, and had a fit.

My chance occurred, and I whipped through the cas.e.m.e.nt; All they could do was catch away the sheet; I dropped a dozen feet into a bush, Soon found my heels and plied them; here I am.'

Cydilla:

A strange tale, Damon, this to tell to me And introduce as thou at first began.

Damon:

Thy life, Cydilla, has at all times been A ceremony: this young man's Discovered by free impulse, not couched in forms Worn and made smooth by prudent folk long dead.

I love Hipparchus for his wave-like brightness; He wastes himself, but till his flash is gone I shall be ever glad to hear him laugh: Nor could one make a Spartan of him even Were one the Spartan with a will to do it.

Yet had there been no more than what is told, Thou wouldst not now be lending ear to me.

Cydilla:

Hearing such things, I think of my poor son, Which makes me far too sad to smile at folly.

Damon:

There, let me tell thee all just as it happened, And of thy son I shall be speaking soon.

Cydilla:

Delphis! Alas, are his companions still No better than such ne'er-do-wells? I thought His life was sager now, though he has killed My hopes of seeing him a councillor.

Damon:

How thou art quick to lay claim to a sorrow!

Should I have come so eagerly to thee If all there was to tell thee were such poor news?

Cydilla:

Forgive me; well know I there is no end To Damon's kindness; my poor boy has proved it; Could but his father so have understood him!

Damon:

Let lie the sad contents of vanished years; Why with complaints reproach the helpless dead?

Thy husband ne'er will cross thy hopes again.

Come, think of what a sky made yesterday The worthy dream of thrice divine Apollo!

Hipparchus' plan was, we should take the road (As, when such mornings tempt me, is my wont) And cross the hills, along the coast, toward Mylae.

He in disguise, a younger handier Chloe, Would lead my mule; must brown his face and arms: And thereon straight to wake her he was gone.

Their voices from her cabin crossed the yard; He swears those parts of her are still well made Which she keeps too well hidden when about;-- And she, no little pleased; that interlards, Between her exclamations at his figure, Reproof of gallantries half-laughed at hers.

Anon she t.i.tters as he dons her dress Doubtless with pantomime-- Head-carriage and hip-swagger.

A wench, more conscious of her s.e.x than grace, He then rejoined me, changed beyond belief, Roguish as vintage makes them; bustling helps Or hinders Chloe harness to the mule;-- In fine bewitching both her age and mine.

The life that in such fellows runs to waste Is like a gust that pulls about spring trees And spoils your hope of fruit, while it delights The sense with bloom and odour scattered, mingled With salt spume savours from a crested offing.

The sun was not long up when we set forth And, coming to the deeply shadowed gate, Found catchpolls lurked there, true to his surmise.

Them he, his beard disguised like face-ache, sauced; (Too gaily for that bandaged cheek, thought I); But they, whose business was to think, Were quite contented, let the hussy pa.s.s, Returned her kisses blown back down the road, And crowned the mirth of their outwitter's heart.

As the steep road wound clear above the town, Fewer became those little comedies To which encounters roused him: till, at last, He scarcely knew we pa.s.sed some vine-dressers: And I could see the sun's heat, lack of sleep, And his late orgy would defeat his powers.

So, where the road grows level and must soon Descend, I bade him climb into the car; On which the mule went slower still and slower.

This creature who, upon occasions, shows Taste very like her master's, left the highway And took a gra.s.s-grown wheel-track that led down Zigzag athwart the broad curved banks of lawn Coating a valley between rounded hills Which faced the sea abruptly in huge crags.

Each slope grew steeper till I left my seat And led the mule; for now Hipparchus' snore Tuned with the crooning waves heard from below.

We pa.s.sed two narrow belts of wood and then The sea, that first showed blue above their tops, Was spread before us chequered with white waves Breaking beneath on boulders which choked up The narrowed issue seawards of the glen.

The steep path would no more admit of wheels: I took the beast and tethered her to graze Within the shade of a stunt ilex clump,-- Returned to find a vacant car; Hipparchus, Uneasy on my tilting down the shafts, And heated with strange clothes, had roused himself And lay asleep upon his late disguise, Naked 'neath the cool eaves of one huge rock That stood alone, much higher up than those Over, and through, and under which, the waves Made music or forced milk-white floods of foam.

There I reclined, while vision, sound and scent Won on my willing soul like sleep on joy, Till all accustomed thoughts were far away As from a happy child the cares of men.

The hour was sacred to those earlier G.o.ds Who are not active, but divinely wait The consummation of their first great deeds, Unfolding still and blessing hours serene.

Presently I was gazing on a boy, (Though whence he came my mind had not perceived).

Twelve or thirteen he seemed, with clinging feet Poised on a boulder, and against the sea Set off. His wide-brimmed hat of straw was arched Over his ma.s.sed black and abundant curls By orange ribbon tied beneath his chin; Around his arms and shoulders his sole dress, A cloak, was all bunched up. He leapt, and lighted Upon the boulder just beneath; there swayed, Re-poised, And perked his head like an inquisitive bird, As gravely happy; of all unconscious save His body's aptness for its then employment; His eyes intent on sh.e.l.ls in some clear pool Or choosing where he next will plant his feet.

Again he leaps, his curls against his hat Bounce up behind. The daintiest thing alive, He rocks awhile, turned from me towards the sea; Unseen I might devour him with my eyes.

At last he stood upon a ledge each wave Spread with a sheet of foam four inches deep; He gazing at them saw them disappear And reappear all s.h.i.+ning and refreshed: Then raised his head, beheld the ocean stretched Alive before him in its magnitude.

None but a child could have been so absorbed As to escape its spell till then, none else Could so have voiced glad wonder in a song:-- All the waves of the sea are there!

In at my eyes they crush.

Till my head holds as fair a sea: Though I shut my eyes, they are there!

Now towards my lids they rush, Mad to burst forth from me Back to the open air!-- To follow them my heart needs, O white-maned steeds, to ride you; Lithe-shouldered steeds, To the western isles astride you Amyntas speeds!'

'Damon!' said a voice quite close to me And looking up ... as might have stood Apollo In one vast garment such as shepherds wear And leaning on such tall staff stood ... Thou guessest, Whose majesty as vainly was disguised As must have been Apollo's minding sheep.

Cydilla:

Delphis! I know, dear Damon, it was Delphis!

Healthy life in the country having chased His haggard looks; his speech is not wild now, Nor wicked with exceptions to things honest: Thy face a kindlier way than speech tells this.

Damon:

Yea, dear Cydilla, he was altogether What mountaineers might dream of for a king.

Cydilla:

But tell me, is he tutor to that boy?