The stranger in the crowd who caps to you
But keeps his distance,—why should he presume?
You want no hanger-on and dropper-off,
Now yours, and now not yours but quite his own,
According as the sky looks black or bright. (740)
Just so I capped to and kept off from faith—
You promised trudge behind through fair and foul,
Yet leave i’ the lurch at the first spit of rain.
Who holds to faith whenever rain begins?
What does the father when his son lies dead,
The merchant when his money-bags take wing,
The politician whom a rival ousts?
No case but has its conduct, faith prescribes:
Where’s the obedience that shall edify?
Why, they laugh frankly in the face of faith (750)
And take the natural course,—this rends his hair
Because his child is taken to God’s breast,
That gnashes teeth and raves at loss of trash
Which rust corrupts and thieves break through and steal,
And this, enabled to inherit earth
Through meekness, curses till your blood runs cold!
Down they all drop to my low level, ease
Heart upon dungy earth that’s warm and soft,
And let who will, attempt the altitudes.
We have the prodigal son of heavenly sire, (760)
Turning his nose up at the fatted calf,
Fain to fill belly with the husks we swine
Did eat by born depravity of taste!
Who never budged from litter where I lay,
And buried snout i’ the draff-box while I fed,
Cried amen to my creed’s one article—
“Get pleasure, ’scape pain,—give your preference
“To the immediate good, for time is brief,
“And death ends good and ill and everything: (770)
“What’s got is gained, what’s gained soon is gained twice,
“And,—inasmuch as faith gains most,—feign faith!”
So did we brother-like pass word about:
—You, now,—like bloody drunkards but half-drunk,
Who fool men yet perceive men find them fools,
And that a titter gains the gravest mouth,—
O’the sudden you must needs re-introduce
Solemnity, must sober undue mirth
By a blow dealt your boon companion here
Who, using the old licence, dreamed of harm (780)
No more than snow in harvest: yet it falls!
You check the merriment effectually
By pushing your abrupt machine i’ the midst,
Making me Rome’s example: blood for wine!
The general good needs that you chop and change!
I may dislike the hocus-pocus,—Rome,
The laughter-loving people, won’t they stare
Chap-fallen!—while serious natures sermonise
“The magistrate, he beareth not the sword
“In vain; who sins may taste its edge, we see!” (790)
Why my sin, drunkards? Where have I abused
Liberty, scandalised you all so much?
Who called me, who crooked finger till I came,
Fool that I was, to join companionship?
I knew my own mind, meant to live my life,
Elude your envy, or else make a stand,
Take my own part and sell you my life dear:
But it was “Fie! No prejudice in the world
“To the proper manly instinct! Cast your lot
“Into our lap, one genius ruled our births, (800)
“We’ll compass joy by concert; take with us
“The regular irregular way i’ the wood;
“You’ll miss no game through riding breast by breast,
“In this preserve, the Church’s park and pale,
“Rather than outside where the world is waste!”
Come, if you said not that, did you say this?
Give plain and terrible warning, “Live, enjoy?
“Such life begins in death and ends in hell!
“Dare you bid us assist you to your sins
“Who hurry sin and sinners from the earth? (810)
“No such delight for us, why then for you?
“Leave earth, seek heaven or find its opposite!”
Had you so warned me, not in lying words
But veritable deeds with tongues of flame,
That had been fair, that might have struck a man,
Silenced the squabble between soul and sense,
Compelled him make his mind up, take one course
Or the other, peradventure!—wrong or right,
Foolish or wise, you would have been at least
Sincere, no question,—forced me choose, indulge (820)
Or else renounce my instincts, still play wolf
Or find my way submissive to the fold,
Be red-crossed on the fleece, one sheep the more.
But you as good as bade me wear sheep’s wool
Over wolf’s skin, suck blood and hide the noise
By mimicry of something like a bleat,—
Whence it comes that because, despite my care,
Because I smack my tongue too loud for once,
Drop baaing, here’s the village up in arms!
Have at the wolf’s throat, you who hate the breed! (830)
Oh, were it only open to choose—
One little time more—whether I’d be free
Your foe, or subsidised your friend forsooth!
Should not you get a growl through the white fangs
In answer to your beckoning! Cardinal,
Abate, managers o’ the multitude,
I’d turn your gloved hands to account, be sure!
You should manipulate the coarse rough mob:
’Tis you I’d deal directly with, not them,—
Using your fears: why touch the thing myself (840)
When I could see you hunt and then cry “Shares!
“Quarter the carcass or we quarrel; come,
“Here’s the world ready to see justice done!”
Oh, it had been a desperate game, but game
Wherein the winner’s chance were worth the pains
To try conclusions!—at the worst, what’s worse
Than this Mannaia-machine, each minute’s talk,
Helps push an inch the nearer me? Fool, fool!
I blame you, tear my hair and tell my woe— (850)
All’s but a flourish, figure of rhetoric!
One must try each expedient to save life.
One makes fools look foolisher
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