 | The Voyage of Ithobal |  |
85
THE FOURTH DAY
87
Ithobal sails the Unknown Sea
Where divers gestes and merveilles be;
He hath a dream on Afric's strand
The meaning strange to understand.
Where divers gestes and merveilles be;
He hath a dream on Afric's strand
The meaning strange to understand.
May the King live in greatness, peace and strength!
May he have favour of the Awful Gods!
Thus far, O Pharaoh! were thy vessels come
By sailing of six moons; in sooth so far
There was another land and sea and sky.
May he have favour of the Awful Gods!
Thus far, O Pharaoh! were thy vessels come
By sailing of six moons; in sooth so far
There was another land and sea and sky.
Think not thy servant's tongue a lying tongue
If he shall tell thee that while we put south,
Day after day, and night succeeding night,
Close-clinging to the shore, or, with fair winds,
Scudding from point to point, the stars ye know
In Egypt's dark and in the murk of Tyre,
Which go around the North Star and around,
And have their seasons fixed to rise and set:
All these sank low and lower in the sea
Astern of me. And Ishtar's Star sank down
Deeper and deeper towards the leaping waves
Till, where we camped at Juba, look! it sate
No higher from the margin of the main
Than shines thy pharos at the mouth of Nile.
If he shall tell thee that while we put south,
Day after day, and night succeeding night,
Close-clinging to the shore, or, with fair winds,
Scudding from point to point, the stars ye know
In Egypt's dark and in the murk of Tyre,
Which go around the North Star and around,
And have their seasons fixed to rise and set:
All these sank low and lower in the sea
88
Deeper and deeper towards the leaping waves
Till, where we camped at Juba, look! it sate
No higher from the margin of the main
Than shines thy pharos at the mouth of Nile.
Moreover, as we measured league by league
Of multitudinous billows and long coasts
Forever leading South as if this Earth
Stretched edge to Sun—nay! and beyond the Sun—
For, mighty Pharaoh! where our camp was pitched
Yon orb which rolls in gold through Egypt's sky
And at his highest—even in the Crab—
Here southwardly doth set—that self-same Sun
Blazed northwardly and went to setting north,
And rose in the northern east;—I say new stars
Week after week sparkled into our sight;
New skies; new constellations: Oh! a world,
A heaven, unviewed by any Mage or Seer,
Unnamed by Soothsayers, Astrologers—
Our eyes the first to watch its gleaming swarms.
Brightest of all there grew up from the waves—
One moon before the Star of Ishtar sank—
A wondrous light, four splendent orbs so ranged
As are those four great jewels on thy breast
O Mighty Pharaoh! with one smaller star
Like to thine emerald button, holds them back:
A breastplate, target, or a cross, might be,
Its shape nigh to four-square: we steered by it
When the North Star went down and helped no more.
Of multitudinous billows and long coasts
Forever leading South as if this Earth
Stretched edge to Sun—nay! and beyond the Sun—
For, mighty Pharaoh! where our camp was pitched
Yon orb which rolls in gold through Egypt's sky
And at his highest—even in the Crab—
Here southwardly doth set—that self-same Sun
Blazed northwardly and went to setting north,
And rose in the northern east;—I say new stars
Week after week sparkled into our sight;
New skies; new constellations: Oh! a world,
A heaven, unviewed by any Mage or Seer,
Unnamed by Soothsayers, Astrologers—
Our eyes the first to watch its gleaming swarms.
Brightest of all there grew up from the waves—
One moon before the Star of Ishtar sank—
A wondrous light, four splendent orbs so ranged
89
O Mighty Pharaoh! with one smaller star
Like to thine emerald button, holds them back:
A breastplate, target, or a cross, might be,
Its shape nigh to four-square: we steered by it
When the North Star went down and helped no more.
The river runneth seaward 'twixt low banks
Of tufted sand; men may not find its mouth
Passing aloof, unless one guide the eye
Like our black pilot knowing well all signs;
And, at dry time crafts cannot enter there
By reason of a bar where great waves burst,
Would wreck tall ships. But when the river brims,
And sea swells full, galleys may make their way
In quiet weather to the peaceful stream
Flowing a bowshot broad 'mid sandy flats.
Here huge scaled crocodiles drowse in the sun;
And mangroves, glossy-leaved, whose arching roots
Are populous with creeping things and fish,
Breathe forth at sunset poison. Yet, inside
Strong mind I had to stay and fill my ships
With meat and meal, and learn where we had come
And what the peoples were, and if, beyond,
Lay secrets hidden for my lord the king.
Long parle, and perilous we held; their chiefs—
Bedecked for battle, clad with lion skins
Or monkey-fur or spotted leopard's pelt—
Sat fierce along the beach, their warriors
With spears, and shields of hide, and bows, and clubs,
Waiting for word of peace or war. I bade
My trusty Tyrians gird their swords; we stood
Ten-score stout men who knew not fear—with those
Aboard, sufficient guards. I would not brook
From the wild men ill-dealing; but my guide,
My star of women—Nesta—murmured me:—
“Suffer their ways a little, 'twill be well;
They do consult their Gods.” Thereat she used
Strange words seemed sweet to them; but these beat heads,
In sudden reverence on the sand, and clasped
Hands across breasts as though a Goddess spake:
Then brought their sorcerer—a painted priest,
Hung with men's bones, and teeth of snake, and beads,—
Who, with dark arts, and magic mumbled spells,
Plucked, from a basket near, a cob of corn;
Laid it on earth, then grovelled, moaned, and writhed:
And where the corn was, look! a little snake!
Whereat the savage people yelled for war.
But Nesta spake again; then took a shaft
From Gondah's quiver; laid it on the earth,
Drew from her breasts the little amulet
Which helped her at her prayers; and, clasping this,
Bowed down over the arrow. When she raised
That fearless visage, lo! no arrow there!
But a long, glittering, green, lithe serpent hissed,
Which seized the sorcerer's worm and swallowed it.
Then the wild people shouted loud, “Peace! peace!
Peace with the strangers!” And they bring much gifts
And kiss the fringe of Lady Nesta's gown,
And lay their foreheads on her feet; whilst I
Made question of my mistress whence her craft:
But she, her lips set firm, softly replied:—
“My silence steads thee better than to tell;
Things seen are not so true as things unseen;
The Gods are with us! be content, sweet Sir!”
Of tufted sand; men may not find its mouth
Passing aloof, unless one guide the eye
Like our black pilot knowing well all signs;
And, at dry time crafts cannot enter there
By reason of a bar where great waves burst,
Would wreck tall ships. But when the river brims,
And sea swells full, galleys may make their way
In quiet weather to the peaceful stream
Flowing a bowshot broad 'mid sandy flats.
Here huge scaled crocodiles drowse in the sun;
And mangroves, glossy-leaved, whose arching roots
Are populous with creeping things and fish,
Breathe forth at sunset poison. Yet, inside
Strong mind I had to stay and fill my ships
With meat and meal, and learn where we had come
And what the peoples were, and if, beyond,
90
Long parle, and perilous we held; their chiefs—
Bedecked for battle, clad with lion skins
Or monkey-fur or spotted leopard's pelt—
Sat fierce along the beach, their warriors
With spears, and shields of hide, and bows, and clubs,
Waiting for word of peace or war. I bade
My trusty Tyrians gird their swords; we stood
Ten-score stout men who knew not fear—with those
Aboard, sufficient guards. I would not brook
From the wild men ill-dealing; but my guide,
My star of women—Nesta—murmured me:—
“Suffer their ways a little, 'twill be well;
They do consult their Gods.” Thereat she used
Strange words seemed sweet to them; but these beat heads,
In sudden reverence on the sand, and clasped
Hands across breasts as though a Goddess spake:
Then brought their sorcerer—a painted priest,
Hung with men's bones, and teeth of snake, and beads,—
Who, with dark arts, and magic mumbled spells,
Plucked, from a basket near, a cob of corn;
91
And where the corn was, look! a little snake!
Whereat the savage people yelled for war.
But Nesta spake again; then took a shaft
From Gondah's quiver; laid it on the earth,
Drew from her breasts the little amulet
Which helped her at her prayers; and, clasping this,
Bowed down over the arrow. When she raised
That fearless visage, lo! no arrow there!
But a long, glittering, green, lithe serpent hissed,
Which seized the sorcerer's worm and swallowed it.
Then the wild people shouted loud, “Peace! peace!
Peace with the strangers!” And they bring much gifts
And kiss the fringe of Lady Nesta's gown,
And lay their foreheads on her feet; whilst I
Made question of my mistress whence her craft:
But she, her lips set firm, softly replied:—
“My silence steads thee better than to tell;
Things seen are not so true as things unseen;
The Gods are with us! be content, sweet Sir!”
Thereat we took the ships in. From the hills,
Thirty days' journey off, the river came
Broad, lined by canes, with deep pools interspaced
Where the great river-horses rolled and washed
And strange things stole to drink,—the water-buck,
The long-faced hartebeest, quilled porcupines,
Crooked-tusked wart-hogs, sable antelopes,
The grey sagacious elephants, and he,
Who roams tyrannous lord of all the woods,
The tawny lion. And there flocked strange birds,
Bustards, and many-coloured doves, and kites,
Waders, and fishing-fowl, and birds with ears,
Which slay the lizards; and another, calls
The hunter to the tree where honey hides.
Here a whole moon we moored, and beached our keels,
And freed them of sea-grass, and hacked away
Sea-shells, and brine-rust from the bilge. We made
The leaks all good, with juice which flows like milk
From wounded trees, but dries to pitch, and binds.
Also we mended well what was amiss
In hull and gear, and roped our sails anew;
Re-stowed the holds, and laid for ballast there
Millet, and sesamum, and shark-flesh dried.
Alack! I lose upon the channel here
Five of my faithful ones; a river-horse
Seized in his massive jaws a shallop's side;
Crushed the frail boat, and of the six within
Only did Sothës 'scape. And twice in sleep
The crocodiles dragged down a Tyrian.
Then fever took my crews; some score had died
Till Lady Nesta taught us where to find
A herb was bitter, with a lance-head leaf
And purple blossom; and the broth of this
Did surely cure. Whilst the ships lay at rest
We rode the river upward until rocks
And headlong rapids stayed us. Was a town
Of peaceful naked folk, set in a grove
Of nut trees:—'tis a stately, gallant growth,
Will yield you twenty-score for food, or give
The sweet tree milk in its own ivory cup.
The town was walled with thorn lest lions snatch
Sleepers by night, or enemies assail;
Or those four-handed tribes, the long-tailed apes,
Steal the ripe nuts. There came a caravan
Of traders from the hinder-land; we spake
With their chief peoples. Wonderful to hear
Their stories of the secret world beyond.
Fifty days' march inland—a mount they said
Lifts its long ridge a league-high to the air,
And hath forever in the burning blue
A crown of snow. And yet beyond, vast seas
Shut in the hills, where one might row and row
Eight nights and days and not reach nether shore.
Moreover, from this mighty hollow flows
A broad strong river, leaps in thunderous fall
Down a vast steep: then runs north—north—aye! north—
Whither none wotteth. O my lord the King!
Maybe this is the fountain of thy Nile!
Not Lady Nesta knew; her country lay
Far off—far off—she said; yet she had viewed
Wide inland waters; had heard speech of men
With tails, of pigmy men dwelling in woods;
Naked, dust-coloured, using poisoned shafts;
Of men that lived around a towering mount,
With changeless cap of snow, who ate their kind,
And made dark sorceries.
92
Broad, lined by canes, with deep pools interspaced
Where the great river-horses rolled and washed
And strange things stole to drink,—the water-buck,
The long-faced hartebeest, quilled porcupines,
Crooked-tusked wart-hogs, sable antelopes,
The grey sagacious elephants, and he,
Who roams tyrannous lord of all the woods,
The tawny lion. And there flocked strange birds,
Bustards, and many-coloured doves, and kites,
Waders, and fishing-fowl, and birds with ears,
Which slay the lizards; and another, calls
The hunter to the tree where honey hides.
Here a whole moon we moored, and beached our keels,
And freed them of sea-grass, and hacked away
Sea-shells, and brine-rust from the bilge. We made
The leaks all good, with juice which flows like milk
From wounded trees, but dries to pitch, and binds.
Also we mended well what was amiss
In hull and gear, and roped our sails anew;
Re-stowed the holds, and laid for ballast there
Millet, and sesamum, and shark-flesh dried.
Alack! I lose upon the channel here
Five of my faithful ones; a river-horse
93
Crushed the frail boat, and of the six within
Only did Sothës 'scape. And twice in sleep
The crocodiles dragged down a Tyrian.
Then fever took my crews; some score had died
Till Lady Nesta taught us where to find
A herb was bitter, with a lance-head leaf
And purple blossom; and the broth of this
Did surely cure. Whilst the ships lay at rest
We rode the river upward until rocks
And headlong rapids stayed us. Was a town
Of peaceful naked folk, set in a grove
Of nut trees:—'tis a stately, gallant growth,
Will yield you twenty-score for food, or give
The sweet tree milk in its own ivory cup.
The town was walled with thorn lest lions snatch
Sleepers by night, or enemies assail;
Or those four-handed tribes, the long-tailed apes,
Steal the ripe nuts. There came a caravan
Of traders from the hinder-land; we spake
With their chief peoples. Wonderful to hear
Their stories of the secret world beyond.
Fifty days' march inland—a mount they said
Lifts its long ridge a league-high to the air,
And hath forever in the burning blue
94
Shut in the hills, where one might row and row
Eight nights and days and not reach nether shore.
Moreover, from this mighty hollow flows
A broad strong river, leaps in thunderous fall
Down a vast steep: then runs north—north—aye! north—
Whither none wotteth. O my lord the King!
Maybe this is the fountain of thy Nile!
Not Lady Nesta knew; her country lay
Far off—far off—she said; yet she had viewed
Wide inland waters; had heard speech of men
With tails, of pigmy men dwelling in woods;
Naked, dust-coloured, using poisoned shafts;
Of men that lived around a towering mount,
With changeless cap of snow, who ate their kind,
And made dark sorceries.
We put to sea
Scantier in company, but well refreshed,
Refitted, good for toil, glad to steer on
Whither the Gods might lead and thy great will.
Yet of the coast-folk none would sail with us
Save one grey ancient knowing of the bays
And lacking for his withered belly meat.
“Ye go,” they said, “to death! there is a way;
We wot the road; but not how to return.
Best die in daylight: not in night and hell.”
Still we stood forth; fair ran the rippled sea;
New-painted on its wavelets shone the ships;
Under our stems, like birds before a plough,
Over the silver furrows flying fish
Darted in flocks; white sea-birds, wide of wing,
Soared round our masts, and screamed for orts; before,
Behind us, gambolled dolphins, glossy-black,
Pearl-bellied, mocking with their speed our oars.
Full fed, by friendly winds favoured and moon,
Down a long coast we scudded, rimmed with sand
And then red hills; and, by the daytime, isles
Crowding along the sea: in shore of these
The rolling waves ran low. We passed flat reefs
Where sea-fowls nest, and sleek seals drowse i' the sun,
And then a rock, washed all around by waves,
Built like a citadel; one would believe
This spot a fortalice, planned for some war.
Afterwards the clouds lower, storm portends,
Shelter were well. My dark-skinned pilot points
Where two white patches on a sandy hill
Mark refuge; 'tis an island, thick with huts,
Fringed with the mangrove-tree, who loves to dip
Her feet in the salt. An inlet opens fair;
Our oarsmen strain to reach it; while the sky
Begins to blaze with lightning, and the sea
Blackens beneath the thunder-clouds. My Dove
Guides Ram and Whale into a still lagoon
Where we ship oars and praise the Gods anew.
Scantier in company, but well refreshed,
Refitted, good for toil, glad to steer on
Whither the Gods might lead and thy great will.
Yet of the coast-folk none would sail with us
Save one grey ancient knowing of the bays
95
“Ye go,” they said, “to death! there is a way;
We wot the road; but not how to return.
Best die in daylight: not in night and hell.”
Still we stood forth; fair ran the rippled sea;
New-painted on its wavelets shone the ships;
Under our stems, like birds before a plough,
Over the silver furrows flying fish
Darted in flocks; white sea-birds, wide of wing,
Soared round our masts, and screamed for orts; before,
Behind us, gambolled dolphins, glossy-black,
Pearl-bellied, mocking with their speed our oars.
Full fed, by friendly winds favoured and moon,
Down a long coast we scudded, rimmed with sand
And then red hills; and, by the daytime, isles
Crowding along the sea: in shore of these
The rolling waves ran low. We passed flat reefs
Where sea-fowls nest, and sleek seals drowse i' the sun,
And then a rock, washed all around by waves,
Built like a citadel; one would believe
This spot a fortalice, planned for some war.
Afterwards the clouds lower, storm portends,
Shelter were well. My dark-skinned pilot points
96
Mark refuge; 'tis an island, thick with huts,
Fringed with the mangrove-tree, who loves to dip
Her feet in the salt. An inlet opens fair;
Our oarsmen strain to reach it; while the sky
Begins to blaze with lightning, and the sea
Blackens beneath the thunder-clouds. My Dove
Guides Ram and Whale into a still lagoon
Where we ship oars and praise the Gods anew.
'Tis seen that mercy breedeth love, O King!
My lady had for maidens, damsels twain,
Bond girls of Egypt, Asenath and Seet,—
Who tended her and tired her hair. Goodwill
Had grown between the mistress and the maids;
For Nesta was born gentle; and no soul
Near her, but joyed in sunshine of her smile.
The maids to bathe betook them in the creek,
Swimmers of Nile, glad of their water-play;
Laughing they clove the milk-warm evening wave
In strife who should be first to bring to deck
Blue lotus-buds; and Nesta from the ship
Beat her soft palms to cheer them. Presently
A glitter of grey light beneath the green!
A black fin cuts the water! Nesta cries:—
“A shark! the shark!” and then her countenance
I first saw fall; for, 'twixt the maids and ship
Steered the fierce murderer of the deep, aware
Of his sure prey; and they, aware of him,
Bent anguished eyes on their pale mistress there.
Death if none helped, death unto him who helped!
Then with set lips my mistress uttered word,
Half prayer, half mandate, and those Africans
Whóse necks she saved from knife of Tyrian priest—
Saw—understood,—and for sweet duty's sake
And love of her kind eyes, did this, O King!
A lance-head lay on deck, barbed at the point,
The shaft new sharpened for its ashen pole
A cubit long. Gondah strips off his gown,
Grips the sharp steel, and rolls the cloth around,
Leaping into the sea; so Handah too
Holding his fighting-knife. With this the boy
Strikes at th' attacking fish, who hath in front
Young Gondah swimming. Savaged with the stroke,
The monster turns to seize; opes his fell jaws,
Toothed terrible, forgetting what he sought,—
Those naked maidens. Look! the fearless boy
'Tween jaw and palate of that dreadful beast
Thrusts the wrapped spike. The murderer closes down
The cruel mouth, but hath a bridle fixed
Will ride him to his death. Mad wallows he
While Handah stabs and stabs. All impotent
Rolls the baulked fish into the crimsoned depths:
The maids come trembling home. But Gondah's arm
Was gashed from wrist to shoulder by those fangs:
Mortal I deemed till Lady Nesta dressed
The deep-cut wounds and laid some simples in,
And bound all with fine linen, fair and spiced;
While at her feet the crouching African
Gave his life, ten times over, with his gaze.
My lady had for maidens, damsels twain,
Bond girls of Egypt, Asenath and Seet,—
Who tended her and tired her hair. Goodwill
Had grown between the mistress and the maids;
For Nesta was born gentle; and no soul
Near her, but joyed in sunshine of her smile.
The maids to bathe betook them in the creek,
Swimmers of Nile, glad of their water-play;
Laughing they clove the milk-warm evening wave
In strife who should be first to bring to deck
Blue lotus-buds; and Nesta from the ship
Beat her soft palms to cheer them. Presently
A glitter of grey light beneath the green!
A black fin cuts the water! Nesta cries:—
97
I first saw fall; for, 'twixt the maids and ship
Steered the fierce murderer of the deep, aware
Of his sure prey; and they, aware of him,
Bent anguished eyes on their pale mistress there.
Death if none helped, death unto him who helped!
Then with set lips my mistress uttered word,
Half prayer, half mandate, and those Africans
Whóse necks she saved from knife of Tyrian priest—
Saw—understood,—and for sweet duty's sake
And love of her kind eyes, did this, O King!
A lance-head lay on deck, barbed at the point,
The shaft new sharpened for its ashen pole
A cubit long. Gondah strips off his gown,
Grips the sharp steel, and rolls the cloth around,
Leaping into the sea; so Handah too
Holding his fighting-knife. With this the boy
Strikes at th' attacking fish, who hath in front
Young Gondah swimming. Savaged with the stroke,
The monster turns to seize; opes his fell jaws,
Toothed terrible, forgetting what he sought,—
Those naked maidens. Look! the fearless boy
'Tween jaw and palate of that dreadful beast
Thrusts the wrapped spike. The murderer closes down
98
Will ride him to his death. Mad wallows he
While Handah stabs and stabs. All impotent
Rolls the baulked fish into the crimsoned depths:
The maids come trembling home. But Gondah's arm
Was gashed from wrist to shoulder by those fangs:
Mortal I deemed till Lady Nesta dressed
The deep-cut wounds and laid some simples in,
And bound all with fine linen, fair and spiced;
While at her feet the crouching African
Gave his life, ten times over, with his gaze.
Asquat upon the deck, munching his grain,
Mine ancient conned the galleys southwardly;
A low coast on the left, then close to shore
A yellow island, Manda; this we skirt
Since the black pilot saith, “Lamu lies nigh,
Where water is, and goodly markets meet.”
At Lamu presently we moor; a town
Set on a long, low isle of silver sand,
Fronting a river's mouth—“Ozi” 'twas named—
The people friendly, liking well to trade.
We buy of sim-sim, in their bags of mat,
Plantains and nuts, for linen cloth and beads.
“Whither go ye?” they ask. “We go,” I say,
“As far as yonder coast goes stretching South;
As far as yonder ocean thither rolls.”
“Know ye the road?” “The end of it we know,”
They answered; “it is darkness—it is death;
It is where lives that God who suffers not
That others live; whose name, to utter it,
Would make the thunder speak and the rains fall.
Yet hence a little space the road is good,
Ye shall come soon to islands of the sea:
M'vita that hath fair harbours, Leopard's Cape,
Malindi; then Oyambu's creek and huts;
And after M'vita, looms the Isle of Spice—
Pemba; and then the great rich Monkey-Isle—
Zangue, where ye may find men to show course
Nearer and nearer to what goal ye seek
Outside the lawful waters. As for us,
We will die where our fathers lived and died.”
Mine ancient conned the galleys southwardly;
A low coast on the left, then close to shore
A yellow island, Manda; this we skirt
Since the black pilot saith, “Lamu lies nigh,
Where water is, and goodly markets meet.”
At Lamu presently we moor; a town
Set on a long, low isle of silver sand,
Fronting a river's mouth—“Ozi” 'twas named—
The people friendly, liking well to trade.
We buy of sim-sim, in their bags of mat,
Plantains and nuts, for linen cloth and beads.
“Whither go ye?” they ask. “We go,” I say,
99
As far as yonder ocean thither rolls.”
“Know ye the road?” “The end of it we know,”
They answered; “it is darkness—it is death;
It is where lives that God who suffers not
That others live; whose name, to utter it,
Would make the thunder speak and the rains fall.
Yet hence a little space the road is good,
Ye shall come soon to islands of the sea:
M'vita that hath fair harbours, Leopard's Cape,
Malindi; then Oyambu's creek and huts;
And after M'vita, looms the Isle of Spice—
Pemba; and then the great rich Monkey-Isle—
Zangue, where ye may find men to show course
Nearer and nearer to what goal ye seek
Outside the lawful waters. As for us,
We will die where our fathers lived and died.”
We beached at white Malindi; coral reefs
Break the grey billows ere they reach the sand.
Northward, a sandy bluff; behind the beach
Fan-palms, with flat crowned thorn-trees, and a plain
Of goat-grass and ilook; innermore stands
A range of hills. There was a cavern here
Carved in the soft stone by a stream that broke
Out of the woods; and bowered fair and green
With climbing flowers and plants that love the moist;
And hanging canes, where golden lizards glanced
And bright sun-birds, like living jewels, sucked
The honey blooms. Outside, the blazing day;
Within, cool gloom, and soft, clean cushions spread
Of silvery sand. Its peace invited us—
My lady and thy slave: for noon was red,
And we had wandered far, glad of firm Earth,
New from unsteady footings of the decks.
At entrance I did lay my shoes aside,
And hung my cloth on spear; who enters then
Unasked, must die: it is the Libyan law.
Break the grey billows ere they reach the sand.
Northward, a sandy bluff; behind the beach
Fan-palms, with flat crowned thorn-trees, and a plain
Of goat-grass and ilook; innermore stands
A range of hills. There was a cavern here
100
Out of the woods; and bowered fair and green
With climbing flowers and plants that love the moist;
And hanging canes, where golden lizards glanced
And bright sun-birds, like living jewels, sucked
The honey blooms. Outside, the blazing day;
Within, cool gloom, and soft, clean cushions spread
Of silvery sand. Its peace invited us—
My lady and thy slave: for noon was red,
And we had wandered far, glad of firm Earth,
New from unsteady footings of the decks.
At entrance I did lay my shoes aside,
And hung my cloth on spear; who enters then
Unasked, must die: it is the Libyan law.
I fell to slumber in that cavern, King!
And had strange visions. In my sleep I saw
A Queen of stately stature, dark of hue:
Dark, but most comely: oh! a form and face
Exceeding beautiful; the black, curled hair,
Clustered on shining brow and velvet nape
In such wise that no diadem was lacked
To grace its jetty glory. Yet the head,—
The Sovereign head in majesty supreme—
Albeit touched with sorrow, touched with shame—
Wore a great crown was beat of burning gold,
Bordered and bossed with jewels such as Thou,
Lord Pharaoh! keepest not in Treasure-House.
For round its rim and on its circling bands
Mingling with moony pearls had robbed the sea
Of all its choicest wealth—glittered great stones
Of sard and amethyst and lazulite,
Turkis and sapphire, beryl, jasper, jade,
With rubies red as doves' blood, chrysoprase,
Lucent as light of Spring, and adamants
Which shut the dayshine in, and flashed it forth
Like little Suns. And on her shapely arms,
Dark as the date's stone, softer than its bloom,
Great armlets hung of hammered gold, set close
With emeralds and coral. Round the neck,
Carved like thy porphyry columns, black and smooth,
A gorget, all of hammered gold, was clasped;
In shape a slave ring; and the sweet strong breasts,
Two hills of ebony entopped with rose,
Were crossed and braced with the slave's shoulder-straps
Done all in burnished gold. The Queenly One
Lay, in a leopard's skin enwrapped, whose sheen,
Dappled with night-black rayings and rosettes,
Clung supple to the lovely waist, and took
The bendings of her beauteous limbs. Her hands,
Moulded for force and tenderness, to grasp
Shaft of swift spear, or coy a lover's cheek,
Were manacled together with rude grip
Of golden chains. And the fine feet of her,
Carved of black alabaster,—nobler made
Than ever Goddess yet in shrine or fane
Had worshippers to kiss,—shook when they moved
Links of a tinkling slave-chain wrought in gold.
And had strange visions. In my sleep I saw
A Queen of stately stature, dark of hue:
Dark, but most comely: oh! a form and face
Exceeding beautiful; the black, curled hair,
Clustered on shining brow and velvet nape
In such wise that no diadem was lacked
To grace its jetty glory. Yet the head,—
The Sovereign head in majesty supreme—
101
Wore a great crown was beat of burning gold,
Bordered and bossed with jewels such as Thou,
Lord Pharaoh! keepest not in Treasure-House.
For round its rim and on its circling bands
Mingling with moony pearls had robbed the sea
Of all its choicest wealth—glittered great stones
Of sard and amethyst and lazulite,
Turkis and sapphire, beryl, jasper, jade,
With rubies red as doves' blood, chrysoprase,
Lucent as light of Spring, and adamants
Which shut the dayshine in, and flashed it forth
Like little Suns. And on her shapely arms,
Dark as the date's stone, softer than its bloom,
Great armlets hung of hammered gold, set close
With emeralds and coral. Round the neck,
Carved like thy porphyry columns, black and smooth,
A gorget, all of hammered gold, was clasped;
In shape a slave ring; and the sweet strong breasts,
Two hills of ebony entopped with rose,
Were crossed and braced with the slave's shoulder-straps
Done all in burnished gold. The Queenly One
Lay, in a leopard's skin enwrapped, whose sheen,
Dappled with night-black rayings and rosettes,
102
The bendings of her beauteous limbs. Her hands,
Moulded for force and tenderness, to grasp
Shaft of swift spear, or coy a lover's cheek,
Were manacled together with rude grip
Of golden chains. And the fine feet of her,
Carved of black alabaster,—nobler made
Than ever Goddess yet in shrine or fane
Had worshippers to kiss,—shook when they moved
Links of a tinkling slave-chain wrought in gold.
Thus bound she lay, this goodly youthful Queen:
And only by her eyes—wonderful eyes,
Full of disdain, half conquering her despair;
Full of despair, half banishing disdain;
Lighted with pride and pity, sufferance, rage—
Knew I she lived. Her prison seemed a land
Vast, various, gilded from the North to South
By always shining summers; rich with plains
Of arable and tilth: with orchards grown
Where birds and deer were gardeners; with woods
Where giant trees made mansions of green light,
Peopled by unknown tribes; with rivers born
From horns of flower-clad mountains, lifting high
Shoulders of snow into the burning blue,
Taking their fruitful way through valleys, fair
With blossoming reeds and floating lotus-buds
And feathered waving canes, and then made pools
In bosom of their hills, which were like seas
So wide from coast to coast. Deserts were there,
Dry barren deserts where the spotted wolf
Findeth no drink but blood; and antres deep
By ill-folk habited; and poisonous swamps
Where none might pass and live. The wilderness,
The waste, the marsh, the barren upland scrub
Where wild beasts rage; these things did lie around
That prisoned Lady's bed, shutting her off—
Or so I deemed—from help and humankind.
Yet there was help, for at her girdle swung,
Thonged to its perfect work of beaded seeds,
Two keys of gold. As if by some two locks
Which these might open—were there friendly aid—
Way would be found to set that bound Queen free;
To give her lovely life and mistresshood,
And all for which the Gods had fashioned her:
So rich, so beautiful, so noble! Nay!
One bar did let and hinder! Round this land
Ran two wide borders, blue, immense, profound;
Beset with dreadful perils, hard to cross,
Long to unfold, which must be nathless crossed,
Must be unfolded,—this way first, then that,—
Ere the sweet Queen could rise.
And only by her eyes—wonderful eyes,
Full of disdain, half conquering her despair;
Full of despair, half banishing disdain;
Lighted with pride and pity, sufferance, rage—
Knew I she lived. Her prison seemed a land
Vast, various, gilded from the North to South
By always shining summers; rich with plains
Of arable and tilth: with orchards grown
Where birds and deer were gardeners; with woods
Where giant trees made mansions of green light,
Peopled by unknown tribes; with rivers born
From horns of flower-clad mountains, lifting high
Shoulders of snow into the burning blue,
103
With blossoming reeds and floating lotus-buds
And feathered waving canes, and then made pools
In bosom of their hills, which were like seas
So wide from coast to coast. Deserts were there,
Dry barren deserts where the spotted wolf
Findeth no drink but blood; and antres deep
By ill-folk habited; and poisonous swamps
Where none might pass and live. The wilderness,
The waste, the marsh, the barren upland scrub
Where wild beasts rage; these things did lie around
That prisoned Lady's bed, shutting her off—
Or so I deemed—from help and humankind.
Yet there was help, for at her girdle swung,
Thonged to its perfect work of beaded seeds,
Two keys of gold. As if by some two locks
Which these might open—were there friendly aid—
Way would be found to set that bound Queen free;
To give her lovely life and mistresshood,
And all for which the Gods had fashioned her:
So rich, so beautiful, so noble! Nay!
One bar did let and hinder! Round this land
Ran two wide borders, blue, immense, profound;
Beset with dreadful perils, hard to cross,
Long to unfold, which must be nathless crossed,
104
Ere the sweet Queen could rise.
And then, dread Lord!
I saw the silver dove of Ishtar light
At those sad, captive feet, as when it drew
Mine own steps to the slave-bazaars in Tyre;
And in its beak a sunflower seed, which means
“I follow, follow always”; and I heard
Murmured from that most sovereign mouth the words,
“Ithobal, son of Magon! succour me!”
And I,—“But how, Most Noble?” And she sighed,
“With ships, thou Tyrian! And with these gold keys.”
Then seemed I once again aboard; yet ah!
What waste of waters! what mad whirl of waves!
What dreadful rocks! What shores that slide and slide
Out of the blue of sky into sea's green
And back into the blue; and never cease
And never turn, or turn only to show
New coasts that trend north, north and always north;
Till the strayed sun, that set upon our right,
Dips on our left again; if we come live
To the ocean-gates I know and come with ships.
Yet in my vision, King! I had but two.
I saw the silver dove of Ishtar light
At those sad, captive feet, as when it drew
Mine own steps to the slave-bazaars in Tyre;
And in its beak a sunflower seed, which means
“I follow, follow always”; and I heard
Murmured from that most sovereign mouth the words,
“Ithobal, son of Magon! succour me!”
And I,—“But how, Most Noble?” And she sighed,
“With ships, thou Tyrian! And with these gold keys.”
Then seemed I once again aboard; yet ah!
What waste of waters! what mad whirl of waves!
What dreadful rocks! What shores that slide and slide
Out of the blue of sky into sea's green
And back into the blue; and never cease
And never turn, or turn only to show
New coasts that trend north, north and always north;
Till the strayed sun, that set upon our right,
Dips on our left again; if we come live
105
Yet in my vision, King! I had but two.
Moreover, Lord! I dreamed strange sequent dreams.
Years rolled, and reigns and generations. Nay!
Thy realm had passed: thy piercing Pyramids
Had melted into bluntness with the suns
Of sweeping centuries. Yet, while those sped
Folks found, it seemed, the imprisoned Queen and brought
Some help and homage. In my vision shewed
Men in white garments, Arab men who bore
Money and gifts, taking away for these
Ivory, and gold, and slaves, and spiceries.
And there rose kings, black lords of flattened face
And iron breasts, who ruled the tribes by blood
And kept what peace they knew. Then at the last
Strange mariners I saw sail from the West;
Their chief of noble bearing, bearded, fierce,
With galleys four came downward on my track,
And round the dreadful Cape and put to north,
Where I had southward rowed and southward sailed;
Until in this same cavern where we lay
I saw him stand and gaze towards the port
Where his bruised fleet did anchor. Then I heard
The imprisoned Queen sigh,—“Ithobal of Tyre,
The blue wide barrier hath been rended twice!
The sea's stern girdle falls away from me!”
Years rolled, and reigns and generations. Nay!
Thy realm had passed: thy piercing Pyramids
Had melted into bluntness with the suns
Of sweeping centuries. Yet, while those sped
Folks found, it seemed, the imprisoned Queen and brought
Some help and homage. In my vision shewed
Men in white garments, Arab men who bore
Money and gifts, taking away for these
Ivory, and gold, and slaves, and spiceries.
And there rose kings, black lords of flattened face
And iron breasts, who ruled the tribes by blood
And kept what peace they knew. Then at the last
Strange mariners I saw sail from the West;
Their chief of noble bearing, bearded, fierce,
With galleys four came downward on my track,
And round the dreadful Cape and put to north,
Where I had southward rowed and southward sailed;
Until in this same cavern where we lay
I saw him stand and gaze towards the port
Where his bruised fleet did anchor. Then I heard
106
The blue wide barrier hath been rended twice!
The sea's stern girdle falls away from me!”
Yet did my vision hold. White faces came
More and more frequent through the perilous belts,
The thirsty desert, the enfolding hills,
The murderous tribes, the lion-haunted wilds,
The slave-paths, and the burning villages,
To where the Lady dwelled. But prone no more!
No more in chains! She sate upon a throne
Carved out of tusks and gold, with jewels decked,
Draped with her own royal robes: the sweet proud eyes
Gleaming with joy and grace of fresh life found;
While Ishtar's dove cooed, and my dream was done.
More and more frequent through the perilous belts,
The thirsty desert, the enfolding hills,
The murderous tribes, the lion-haunted wilds,
The slave-paths, and the burning villages,
To where the Lady dwelled. But prone no more!
No more in chains! She sate upon a throne
Carved out of tusks and gold, with jewels decked,
Draped with her own royal robes: the sweet proud eyes
Gleaming with joy and grace of fresh life found;
While Ishtar's dove cooed, and my dream was done.
But Nesta laid her face between her palms,
And bowed her head, and kept long silence. Then
She lifted on me look of tenderness,
And spake these words: “Master! be comforted!
Thy dream is good and true, and giveth thee—
What the Gods may—to see drawn back the veil
Hiding the things that will be. These will be!
Long, very long hereafter they will be.
She whom thou didst behold chained and alone,
Sore-suffering, shut away from love and hope;
She was my AFRICA, my darkened Land,
My hid, forgotten Land; whose child I am,
Whose lover; and for whose sake I have lived
To be thy mate and guide. Her days begin!
Ithobal's ships, much-daring, shall break through
The sea-bars—blue, immense,—that hemmed her in;
And there shall come to her adventurers
Seeking her gold—for that is how the keys,
Fashioned of gold, feign way t' unlock the gates.
And with gold-seekers shall go merchantmen,
And tramp of many caravans; and trade
Which, pushed with blood, shall end in peace and wealth.
Nay! Stay!” she said; “also I see that one
Who doubleth back on this sea-track of thine,
And cometh hither to our very cave
Twenty-one centuries hence: a western chief,
Iberian, swart and brave: the voices say
His name to me in Greek: I wist not what;
I wot not why: but they bid write it so.”
Thereat, on the white sand, with lids shut close
And slow-moved finger, this mark she did trace
Ϝ
I know not and she knew not wherefore thus!
But 'tis a letter of Æolians.
And bowed her head, and kept long silence. Then
She lifted on me look of tenderness,
And spake these words: “Master! be comforted!
Thy dream is good and true, and giveth thee—
What the Gods may—to see drawn back the veil
Hiding the things that will be. These will be!
Long, very long hereafter they will be.
107
Sore-suffering, shut away from love and hope;
She was my AFRICA, my darkened Land,
My hid, forgotten Land; whose child I am,
Whose lover; and for whose sake I have lived
To be thy mate and guide. Her days begin!
Ithobal's ships, much-daring, shall break through
The sea-bars—blue, immense,—that hemmed her in;
And there shall come to her adventurers
Seeking her gold—for that is how the keys,
Fashioned of gold, feign way t' unlock the gates.
And with gold-seekers shall go merchantmen,
And tramp of many caravans; and trade
Which, pushed with blood, shall end in peace and wealth.
Nay! Stay!” she said; “also I see that one
Who doubleth back on this sea-track of thine,
And cometh hither to our very cave
Twenty-one centuries hence: a western chief,
Iberian, swart and brave: the voices say
His name to me in Greek: I wist not what;
I wot not why: but they bid write it so.”
Thereat, on the white sand, with lids shut close
108
Ϝ
I know not and she knew not wherefore thus!
But 'tis a letter of Æolians.
A little while she paused; then from her breast
Drew forth the precious amulet of gold
That helped her at her prayers, and clasping this
Dropped o'er her face her headcloth; lay awhile
Cowering and crouched: then she spake once again:
“This is a high deed which Thou doest, Lord!
Mother of many deeds! Past thee and him
And those who follow, and the acts to be,
And the long patience of the waiting Gods,
I see my Land with Sister Continents
Sisterly seated: her dark sons I see
From wars and slave-yokes freed. These sunlit shores
Happy with traffic, while a thousand ships
Sail on the waves first clove by Ithobal.”
This was my vision, Pharaoh! in the cave.
Drew forth the precious amulet of gold
That helped her at her prayers, and clasping this
Dropped o'er her face her headcloth; lay awhile
Cowering and crouched: then she spake once again:
“This is a high deed which Thou doest, Lord!
Mother of many deeds! Past thee and him
And those who follow, and the acts to be,
And the long patience of the waiting Gods,
I see my Land with Sister Continents
Sisterly seated: her dark sons I see
From wars and slave-yokes freed. These sunlit shores
Happy with traffic, while a thousand ships
Sail on the waves first clove by Ithobal.”
This was my vision, Pharaoh! in the cave.
South from Malindi ran we with soft airs
Breathing off shore; so did I let all drive
Over warm waters, under scorching skies
To the green island Pemba, where we lay
Safe anchored in a shallow gulf, was lined
With spice-brush and the pale green aloe-spears
And the wild tree-wool; for a hard wind came
Hot from the south, and far away at sea
Pillars of cloud and water passed; storm-whirls,
Which with fierce rage and furious roar uptore
The heavy, rolling billows, flinging them
In scud and spume into the tortured air,
Which howled and twisted till the heavens seemed brine,
Hiding the sun. In such a water-spout
My galleys had been as the gnats that drown
Where Nile leaps wildest. But our sailors burned
Sweet incense to the Sea Gods; and next morn
The tempest spent its wrath, the loud winds lulled;
Lightly we set from Shâki, steering straight
For Zangwe—'tis an island, great and fair,
Sitting along the coast; with downs and woods
And harbour looking to the sinking sun
Where we made port, seven moons of voyage done
Breathing off shore; so did I let all drive
109
To the green island Pemba, where we lay
Safe anchored in a shallow gulf, was lined
With spice-brush and the pale green aloe-spears
And the wild tree-wool; for a hard wind came
Hot from the south, and far away at sea
Pillars of cloud and water passed; storm-whirls,
Which with fierce rage and furious roar uptore
The heavy, rolling billows, flinging them
In scud and spume into the tortured air,
Which howled and twisted till the heavens seemed brine,
Hiding the sun. In such a water-spout
My galleys had been as the gnats that drown
Where Nile leaps wildest. But our sailors burned
Sweet incense to the Sea Gods; and next morn
The tempest spent its wrath, the loud winds lulled;
Lightly we set from Shâki, steering straight
For Zangwe—'tis an island, great and fair,
Sitting along the coast; with downs and woods
And harbour looking to the sinking sun
Where we made port, seven moons of voyage done
END OF THE FOURTH DAY.
| The Voyage of Ithobal | |