'You would gain but an instant's revenge,' said the other, striving to soothe him, 'and you would lose'
'What? My life, would you say?' retorted the first. 'I know it. I know well, that before I could strike him thrice, I would myself be beaten down, a corpse. But one blow from me would be sufficient for him. Ay, though I used not my knife at all, but only my hardened fist. Would it not be a fine revenge, say you, thus to kill him? It was on account of my strength of arm that he laid toils for my capture, and for that alone he most valued me. Why not, then, prove its quality upon himself? With a single blow I could crush in his proud head like an egg shell. Then let them kill meI care not.'
'And yet the life once lost by you cannot be gained again,' responded the other.
'O feeble-minded!' said the first, with disdain. 'Have I ever so dearly cared for life that I should thus guard it at the expense of honor? While I was a free man, in my native Rhodes, with my wife and children around me, did I not then risk my life among the very first? And am I likely to value it the more now that I am a slave, with wife torn from me and sent I know not where, with children slain one by one, as the only means of capturing me, with the accursed livery of the arena placed upon me that I may administer to their gaping appetite for blood? Can all this make me love my life more than I have ever loved it before?'
'But waitonly wait. There will come a time'
'Ay, ay; there will come a time is what all say, and will continue to say, and yet the time comes not. There is never any time like the present. All around me are thousands of men, once free and now chained into slaveryand chained, perhaps, more through their own indolence than by the power of their masters; and yet they lie supine, and call upon each other to wait! And to-morrow there will be a thousand such in the arena, and instead of rising up together in their strength, they will fight only with each other. What might not that thousand accomplish, were they to act together in brave and earnest revolt? What chance would a few hundred pampered pretorians have of staying the flood? There, seated in fancied security upon their benches, will be the emperor, the court, the nobles, and the most wealthy of the empire. In one hour of action, we could sweep these away like chaff, together with all else that is held most worthy of place and power in the whole empire! And yet these thousand slaves will not rise up together with me, and it will not be done!'
The head of the Hercules dropped upon his chest with a gesture of despair.
'You say truly,' responded the other. 'It will not be done, for they will not act with you. And what can you do alone?'
'Nothingnothing; I see it all. I am powerless,' murmured the first. 'Well, I will be patient, and dissimulate. I will do as you request, Gorgo. I will restrain myself. As for this manthis imperatorwhy should I there wreak my vengeance upon him? It would only be giving to the rest of the people an unlooked-for sighta newer pleasure, that is all. I will therefore act the part of a good and faithful slavewill kiss the rod held over meand will duly serve my master by slaying my adversary, whoever he may be, and thus winning that store of gold pieces which have been laid out as the stake of my life. And thenthen I will go home to my kennel and my bones. But this I swear, by the immortal gods! that I will follow this man from house to forum, wherever he may go, until I find a proper chance to strike him down in secret like a dog. You were right. I must not lose my life to kill him, when I can so easily slay him and yet live to slay other men as bad as he. My life is for other things. And when the time comes that I can raise the standard of insurrection, will you then'
'Then I will be with you heart and soul forever, until our freedom is built up on the ruins of this accursed Rome!' cried the other, striking his hand responsively into the outstretched palm before him. And the two men again took up their walk, and passed on until they were swallowed up in the darkness and their voices, growing more and more indistinct, were finally hushed.
THE VISION
INSCRIBED TO TEACHERS TO CONTRABANDS IN THE SOUTH
Lo! a picture came before me
Of a million broken chains,
Lying cankered with old blood-drops
Which had oozed from tortured veins,
Reddening the fleecy cotton
Snowed upon the Southern plains.
And the picture's tints grew deeper,
Redder, blacker, as I gazed,
And my weak knees smote together,
And my eyes grew dim and glazed,
At the vision's spectred horrors
From the graves of vengeance raised.
For, where liveoaks and magnolias
Gloom the earth with densest shades,
Where the snake and alligator
Lurk in endless everglades,
Where the cloud-lace-fretted sunset
Lingering, longest night evades,
Where the eagle builds his eyrie
Nearest to the fervid skies,
Where the buzzard swoops to fatten
On the prey that lingering dies,
Where the bloodhound's hellish baying
Stills the hunted bondman's cries,
There uprose, all ghostly shadowed,
Hosts of wasted, haggard forms;
And their wild eyes glared and glittered
Like heaven's fire in dark-browed storms,
And with outstretched arms toward me
They came rushing in thick swarms.
And I saw upon their foreheads
Letters where the irons burned,
And their backs left gashed and harrowed
Where the lash for life-blood yearned,
And their lank limbs, fester-eaten,
Showed where gnawing shackles turned.
There were gaunt and frenzied mothers
With wan children in their arms,
There were youths, and there were maidens,
Curses, tears, and wild alarms,
There were auction blocks and hammers
Where were bartered beauty's charms.
Ah! my heart grew chill within me,
And my 'frighted blood congealed,
As my soul's eye raised the shadows
Which like curtains half concealed
Deeper horrors, depths of anguish
Left till God's day unrevealed!
And my soul went up in sighing
To God's ear: 'And Thou dost know,
High and Holy! men are devils,
Earth, like hell, is drowned in woe?'
Came an answer: 'Hark! my war-blast
Dealing sin a staggering blow!'
'Father! though the chains be broken,'
Cried my soul, 'the wounds remain,
Deeper than the irons wore them,
'Neath the brow within the brain,
'Neath the body in the spirit!
Peals Thy war-blast not in vain?
'How shall knowledge, how shall virtue
Dwell with ignorance and sin?
Where is found that earthly saintship
Can consort with devils' din?
Who the saintly self-denying
Through bell's door would look within
'E'en to save the devil's victims,
Snatch them from the cooling flames,
Kiss with love their long-charred spirits,
Breathe new souls into their names,
Wing them to the climes supernal,
And to angels' loud acclaims?'
Then came answer: 'Lo! I call them,
Ministers of love, I call!'
Then I waited in the silence,
With God waited over all,
Till I knew how He forgetteth
No one worthy, great or small.
For I saw from where the ocean
Drifts its rhythms to the beach,
From where mountain snows eternal
Far toward heaven as stainless reach,
From where gold and russet harvests
Of God's 'whelming bounty teach,
From where all are always freemen,
From where colleges and schools
Free the mind from Old-World trammels,
Unfit men for tyrants' tools,
From where firesides and altars
Govern hearts with golden rules,
Came, as flowers come in spring-time
Dropt from Winter's icy hand,
Came to cheer, to teach, to brighten
God's commissioned, shining band;
Came with hands and hearts o'erflowing
To renew the Southern land!
And I watched how spirit-anguish
Songs and smiles soon soothed, allayed,
And how soul-wounds touched by kindness,
As by Christ, could heal and fade,
And how darkness fled affrighted
Where these angels wept and prayed.
And my soul went up in praising
To God's ear: 'Yea, Thou dost know,
High and Holy! men are devils,
Earth, like hell, is drowned in woe;
But Thy war-blast, in Thy mercy,
Hath dealt sin a staggering blow!'
THE UNDIVINE COMEDYA POLISH DRAMA
THE UNDIVINE COMEDYA POLISH DRAMA
Dedicated to MaryPART IV
'Bottomless perdition.'Milton.
Fog and cloud! Nothing can be seen from the bastions of the castle of the Holy Trinity, to the right or to the left, in front or in the rear, but dense, motionless, snowy mist; a spectral image of that deluge-wrath which, as it rose to sweep o'er earth, once broke against these stern, steep cliffs and beetling peaks of rock: no trace is to be seen of the buried valley, for the ghostly waves of the cold, white sea of foam shroud it closely in their stifling veils; the glowing face of the crimson sun shines not as yet upon earth's winding sheet of silent, clinging, pallid vapor.
The tower of the castle stands upon a bold and naked granite peak. Built of the strong rock from which it soars by the giant labor of the now dying Past, it seems during the lapse of centuries to have grown up from its stony heart, as the human breast grows from the broad back of the Centaur. A single banner streams above its lofty turret, the only banner of the Cross now raised on earth; the symbol of God's mystic love alone floats high enough to pierce into the unclouded blue of the stormy sky!
The white and sleeping mist gradually awakens; the sighing and howling of the bleak winds are heard above; the vapor palpitates in the first rays of the coming sun, and a drifting ice-floe of curdling clouds drives wildly o'er this quickening sea of fog and foam.
Other voices, human voices, mingle with the wails and sobs of the passing storm: borne upward on the ghastly waves of the spectral cloud sea, they break against the walls of the granite castle.
The pallid shroud of mist is suddenly riven, and through the walls of the chasm torn through the heart of the white foam, glimpses are seen of the abyss below.
How dark it looks in the depths! A sea of heads in wild commotion surges there; the valley swarms with human life as ocean's slimy sands with creeping things that writhe and sting.
The sun! the sun! He mounts above the rocky peaks; the pallid vapors rise in blood and melt in gold, and as they roll and lift into the sky, more and more distinctly grow upon the view the threatening swarms of men still gathering below.
The quivering mist rolls into crimson clouds and scales the craggy cliffs; it dies softly away into the blue depths of the infinite sky. The valley glitters like a sea of light, throws back the dewy sunshine in a dazzling glare, for every hand is armed with sharp and sparkling blades and points of steeland millions are seen pouring into its depths, numberless as they will pour into the vale of the Last Judgment.
A cathedral church in the castle of the Holy Trinity.
Lords, senators, dignitaries are seen seated on either side, each under the banner of a king or knight. Bands of nobles stand behind the banners. The Archbishop is in front of the high altar, a choir of stoled Priests kneel behind and around it. The Man appears, pauses a few moments on the threshold of the church, then advances slowly up the aisle to the Archbishop, holding a banner in his hand.
Chorus of Priests. O God of our fathers! we, Thy last priests, pray in the last church of Thy Son now standing upon earth for the faith of our ancestors! Deliver us from our enemies, O Lord our God!
First Count. See with what pride Count Henry regards us.
Second Count. As if the whole universe were at his feet.
Third Count. And yet he has done nothing but cut his way through the camp of the peasants at night!
First Count. He left one hundred, nay, it is reported, two hundred of their men dead upon the place of combat.
Second Count. Let us object to his appointment as general-in-chief.
The Man (kneeling at the feet of the Archbishop). I lay my trophy at thy feet!
Archbishop (giving him a sword). Gird this sword upon thee; it was once consecrated to Saint Florian!
Many Voices. Long live Count Henry! Vivat! vivat!
Archbishop. And thus sealing thee with the sign of the cross, I commit to thy hands the sole command of this, our last fortress and refuge upon earth.
It is the universal wish that thou shouldst assume the rank of general-in-chief.
Many Voices. Long live our general! Vivat! vivat!
A Voice. I will not give my consent to the appointment!
Many Voices. Away with the objector! Long live Count Henry!
The Man. If any one present have just cause to reproach me, let him proclaim it openly, and not hide himself in the crowd!
He pauses; no one responds.
I accept this sword from thy hands, most reverend father; and may God send me an early and sudden death if I fail to deliver thee!
Chorus of Priests. Gift him with power, O God; and let Thy Holy Spirit descend upon him! Deliver us from our enemies, O Lord!
The Man. Let us all, princes, knights, and nobles, take a solemn oath to defend the glory and fame of our fathers!
Let us swear that though hunger and thirst may lead us to death, they shall not force us to dishonor!
Let us vow that no suffering shall induct us to capitulate, to yield one of our just rights, or to sacrifice any of the duties due to our Creator! Swear!
Many Voices. We swear.
The Archbishop elevates the Cross, they kneel and pledge their faith.
Chorus of Priests. The perjured Thou wilt punish in Thy wrath, O God!
The faint-hearted Thou wilt punish in Thy wrath, O God!
The traitor Thou wilt punish in Thy wrath O God!
The Man (drawing his sword). Keep the oath, and I promise gloryfor victory, pray to God!
He leaves the church, surrounded and followed by bands of knights, nobles, etc.
A courtyard in the castle of the Holy Trinity. The Man, counts, barons, princes, noblemen.
A Count (leading the Man aside). Whatis all irretrievably lost?
The Man. Not all, unless your courage fail before the time.
The Count. Before what time?
The Man. Before death!
A Baron (leading him off on the other side). It is reported that you have seen and spoken with our dreadful foe, Count Henry. If we should fall into his hands, will he have the least compassion upon us?
The Man. To tell you the truth, such compassion as our fathers never dreamed could be shown to them: 'the gallows!'
The Baron. We must guard against that to the utmost of our power!
The Man. What says your excellency?
Prince. I must speak a few words alone with you, (He draws Count Henry aside.) It is all very well to encourage our people, but you must surely be aware that we can hold out no longer.
The Man. What else is left us, prince?
Prince. As you have been appointed chief, it is for you to propose the terms of capitulation.
The Man. Not so loud....
Prince. Why not?
The Man. Because your excellency would thus forfeit your own life! (He turns to the men thronging around him.) He who speaks of surrender will be punished with death!