Comic Tales and Lyrical Fancies including The Chessiad, a Mock-Heroic, in Five Cantos; and The Wreath of Love, in Four Cantos. By C. Dibdin, the Younger |
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| THE CHESSIAD,
A MOCK-HEROIC POEM,
IN FIVE CANTOS. |
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 | Comic Tales and Lyrical Fancies |  |
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THE CHESSIAD, A MOCK-HEROIC POEM, IN FIVE CANTOS.
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- Blane, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .King.
- Blanche, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Queen.
- Crosieroi, or Crosier, . . . King's Bishop.
- Reinelawne, . . . . . . . . . . . . . Queen's Bishop.
- Sir Garderoi, . . . . . . . . . . . . King's Knight.
- Sir Gardereine, . . . . . . . . . . . Queen's Knight.
- Roifort, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .King's Rook.
- Reineforte, . . . . . . . . . . . . . Queen's Rook.
THE CHESS CHARACTERS; OR, PIECES AND PAWNS. PIECES. White.
- Niger, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . King.
- Nigra, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Queen.
- Mitrex, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .King's Bishop.
- Mitregina, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Queen's Bishop.
- Sir Ensorex, or Rexensor, . . King's Knight.
- Sir Reginalde, . . . . . . . . . . . . Queen's Knight.
- Rextour, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . King's Rook.
- Regintoure, . . . . . . . . . . . . . Queen's Rook.
PIECES. Black.
- Blanc-pawn, or King's Pawn.
- Blanche-pawn, or Queen's Pawn.
- Blanc's Body-guard, or King's Bishop's Pawn.
- Queen's Bishop's Pawn.
- Two Knights' Pawns.
- Two Rooks' Pawns.
PAWNS.
- Niger-pawn, or King's Pawn.
- Nigra-pawn, or Queen's Pawn.
- Niger's Body-guard, or King's Bishop's Pawn.
- Queen's Bishop's Pawn.
- Two Knights' Pawns.
- Two Rooks' Pawns.
PAWNS.
- Hazard—chief.
- Faro.
- Whist.
- Piquette.
- Cribbage.
- Put.
- Loo—with Pam.
- Pope Joan.
- Commerce.
- Speculation.
IMAGINARY CHARACTERS; OR, GODS AND GODDESSES OF GAMING AND CHANCE. Gods, &c. who speak or act.
- E. O.
- Rouge et Noir.
- Ombre.
- Quadrille.
Gods, &c. who do neither.
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CANTO FIRST.
ARGUMENT.
Invocation—Subject proposed—Doubtful origin of the chessic race—Number of their tribes—Their colours, characters, and hereditary animosity—their orders, titles, and degrees—their amazons described—their military discipline, modes of marching and fighting—The cause of the battle herein celebrated— Phillidor, the chessic bard, quoted—Nigra raises the spleen of Niger to proclaim war against Blanc—Catalogue of the leaders of each party—their names, titles, and rank—Niger's oration—A herald despatched to proclaim the war—The king's sitting down illustrated by a simile, including a warning to rapscallions.
Muse, sing of Chess, and sing the direful strife
Which urged the sable monarch and his wife,
Niger the moody, Nigra the malign—
To whom their freedom iv'ry blacks resign—
Urged them to war with Blanc and Blanche, the fair,
Who o'er white ivories royal honours share;
Why to the adverse field with dire array
Went both, death braving for the dubious day,
Or sing, or say: and tell the mighty powers,
The Gods of Game, who ruled the hostile hours;
Who in the battle lent divided aid,
Impell'd the leaders, or their rashness stay'd—
As erst great Homer sung pantheon'd gods,
Who fought with men, incalculable odds!
When beauteous Helen, in adult'rous freak,
To Paris went, when her anointed Greek
Follow'd, and Ilium fell, ordain'd to prove
The dreadful havoc of illicit love.
But his were fabled gods; mine now exist,
Demons of pow'r unquestion'd; and the list,
Ere we the battle sing, proclaim'd shall be,
Of each the name, pow'r, nature, and degree.
But first, O muse, the testy people sing,
From whose dire hate these strains advent'rous spring.
Which urged the sable monarch and his wife,
Niger the moody, Nigra the malign—
To whom their freedom iv'ry blacks resign—
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Who o'er white ivories royal honours share;
Why to the adverse field with dire array
Went both, death braving for the dubious day,
Or sing, or say: and tell the mighty powers,
The Gods of Game, who ruled the hostile hours;
Who in the battle lent divided aid,
Impell'd the leaders, or their rashness stay'd—
As erst great Homer sung pantheon'd gods,
Who fought with men, incalculable odds!
When beauteous Helen, in adult'rous freak,
To Paris went, when her anointed Greek
Follow'd, and Ilium fell, ordain'd to prove
The dreadful havoc of illicit love.
But his were fabled gods; mine now exist,
Demons of pow'r unquestion'd; and the list,
Ere we the battle sing, proclaim'd shall be,
Of each the name, pow'r, nature, and degree.
But first, O muse, the testy people sing,
From whose dire hate these strains advent'rous spring.
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In days of yore—what time no bard has sung,
Or sung with truth—the race call'd Chessic sprung:
From Diomedes some the race derive;
Some to Palimides the honour give;
This lived when cried for conquest Philip's boy,
And that when Priam perish'd with his Troy.
Others suppose their founder (bane or boon)
Dropp'd, thro' some strange volcano, from the moon;
Others opine, Prometheus (when his plan,
Of manufact'ring and igniting man
With life he first projected, he essay'd
Smaller game first, experiment to aid),
Found a huge tusk some elephant had cast;
The tusk divided, and its portions class'd
In equal sets; one set dyed black, and then
With skill mechanic form'd the chessic men;
Next from a moon-beam vivified the breed,
And gave them action, as a sample deed;
His mind investing with what might be done
When, moulding clay, he pilfer'd from the sun.
Fashion'd and furnish'd thus, the sage design'd
The pigmy tribes as emblems of mankind:
The white the virtuous, and the black the base;
And hence between them endless war has place.
As two game-cocks of the rough English breed
Whene'er they meet instinctively proceed
To vigorous battle, scorning each to yield,
So these ne'er meet but hostile is the field.
Both to the contest loyal bosoms bring,
Reckless of all but safety of their king.
To guard the monarch when alarms perplex,
E'en either queen, unmindful of her sex,
Resigns the sceptre for the shield and sword,
And braves all perils to defend her lord.
E'en reverend bishops to the field he draws,
With swords, not canons, to defend his cause;
And Europe's annals will, of old, reveal
A bishop's lawn enveloped by steel.
The bishop falling into foemen's hands,
The papal sire his captive son demands;
The ducal captor, bitter in his jest,
Sent to the Pope the bishop's chain-mail vest,
With this appeal, “Our duty while you note,
Judge if this be thy peaceful offspring's coat:”
The jest prevail'd; the sire, to reason won,
The coat disclaiming, disavow'd his son.
Chess-knights came next, for war more dear to fame;
An added order to the field then came,
To chess peculiar, so affirm their books,
Yet ev'ry nation boasts the order—Rooks.
Rooks were they call'd, a castle each possess'd,
The king's great safeguard, when the battle press'd;
Rooks are the chessic ministers of state,
The king's rook premier, paramount in weight.
Bishops rank next, the king's the arch: the knights
Come last, though honour'd with extensive rights;
The queen's own knight ranks least among the set,
A simple knight, the king's a baronet.
Subalterns all are in the chessic court
Call'd Pawns; all pledged their monarch to support;
Some male, some female; and, 'mid battle's thralls,
Whene'er the queen of either colour falls,
The happy she-pawn who shall dare invade
The adverse camp, and, having footing made,
Secures her 'vantage, her the king must own
As legal partner of his bed and throne;
Nay, should she reach it ('tis the farthest post
I' th' adverse lines) ere either side has lost
Or chief or pawn, although her own queen lives,
His hand and heart to her the sovereign gives;
Two wives allow'd: such wives no care excite,
Who always for, not with, their husbands fight.
Each manly pawn who emulates the deed,
Reaching the adverse camp, from pawnship freed,
The rank obtains of any slain in fight,
(As wills his sov'reign) bishop, rook, or knight.
Or sung with truth—the race call'd Chessic sprung:
From Diomedes some the race derive;
Some to Palimides the honour give;
This lived when cried for conquest Philip's boy,
And that when Priam perish'd with his Troy.
Others suppose their founder (bane or boon)
Dropp'd, thro' some strange volcano, from the moon;
Others opine, Prometheus (when his plan,
Of manufact'ring and igniting man
With life he first projected, he essay'd
Smaller game first, experiment to aid),
Found a huge tusk some elephant had cast;
The tusk divided, and its portions class'd
In equal sets; one set dyed black, and then
With skill mechanic form'd the chessic men;
Next from a moon-beam vivified the breed,
And gave them action, as a sample deed;
His mind investing with what might be done
When, moulding clay, he pilfer'd from the sun.
120
The pigmy tribes as emblems of mankind:
The white the virtuous, and the black the base;
And hence between them endless war has place.
As two game-cocks of the rough English breed
Whene'er they meet instinctively proceed
To vigorous battle, scorning each to yield,
So these ne'er meet but hostile is the field.
Both to the contest loyal bosoms bring,
Reckless of all but safety of their king.
To guard the monarch when alarms perplex,
E'en either queen, unmindful of her sex,
Resigns the sceptre for the shield and sword,
And braves all perils to defend her lord.
E'en reverend bishops to the field he draws,
With swords, not canons, to defend his cause;
And Europe's annals will, of old, reveal
A bishop's lawn enveloped by steel.
The bishop falling into foemen's hands,
The papal sire his captive son demands;
121
Sent to the Pope the bishop's chain-mail vest,
With this appeal, “Our duty while you note,
Judge if this be thy peaceful offspring's coat:”
The jest prevail'd; the sire, to reason won,
The coat disclaiming, disavow'd his son.
Chess-knights came next, for war more dear to fame;
An added order to the field then came,
To chess peculiar, so affirm their books,
Yet ev'ry nation boasts the order—Rooks.
Rooks were they call'd, a castle each possess'd,
The king's great safeguard, when the battle press'd;
Rooks are the chessic ministers of state,
The king's rook premier, paramount in weight.
Bishops rank next, the king's the arch: the knights
Come last, though honour'd with extensive rights;
The queen's own knight ranks least among the set,
A simple knight, the king's a baronet.
Subalterns all are in the chessic court
Call'd Pawns; all pledged their monarch to support;
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Whene'er the queen of either colour falls,
The happy she-pawn who shall dare invade
The adverse camp, and, having footing made,
Secures her 'vantage, her the king must own
As legal partner of his bed and throne;
Nay, should she reach it ('tis the farthest post
I' th' adverse lines) ere either side has lost
Or chief or pawn, although her own queen lives,
His hand and heart to her the sovereign gives;
Two wives allow'd: such wives no care excite,
Who always for, not with, their husbands fight.
Each manly pawn who emulates the deed,
Reaching the adverse camp, from pawnship freed,
The rank obtains of any slain in fight,
(As wills his sov'reign) bishop, rook, or knight.
To states a lesson chessic tribes extend,
Ruler and ruled must each on each depend;
Subjects they teach their safety is the throne,
Teach king's their subjects' safety is their own.
The chessic tribes, peculiar in their gait,
Vary their modes of motion; some march straight,
Direct and forward, some oblique; some bound;
And some with lateral movement glide the ground.
The royal state the monarch's march confines,
One step he takes, then stops: his course combines
Forward, or back, oblique or lateral lines.
The rook or steps, or slides (as wants incline
Or fears impel) in horizontal line;
Forward, back, sideways (to no space confined),
As many paces as content his mind.
In line diagonal the bishops move,
One step or more, as prudence may approve.
The knight, borne proudly on his fiery steed,
Leaps, and at once three paces can proceed
In all directions; measuring his track
From black to white, again from white to black—
Chequer'd the field where chessic warriors fight;
One square, or step, alternate, black and white.
Each piece (in chessic pieces “chiefs” imply,
To pawns alone that title they deny)—
Each piece, when moving, should a friend impede,
Behind that friend he stops, nor dares proceed;
But should a foe obstruct his order'd way,
And he that foe should captivate or slay,
Where stood the vanquish'd must the victor stand,
Nor move till licensed by supreme command.
The pawns straight forward march: when first they move
Two steps they take, if prudence should approve;
After, their way by single step they make;
Forward they march, obliquely kill, or take;
And in an angle when a foe they join
The conqu'ring pawn pursues the vanquished's line.
The queen, more privileged by sovereign right,
Moves, takes and kills, as all do, save the knight;
No boundary limits, and no step confines;
Alike to her or distances or lines.
Thus, when unsex'd is lovely woman found,
No ties restrain her, and no barriers bound;
Let casque and corslet once disgrace her form,
'Tis sunshine darken'd by impending storm.
Ruler and ruled must each on each depend;
Subjects they teach their safety is the throne,
Teach king's their subjects' safety is their own.
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Vary their modes of motion; some march straight,
Direct and forward, some oblique; some bound;
And some with lateral movement glide the ground.
The royal state the monarch's march confines,
One step he takes, then stops: his course combines
Forward, or back, oblique or lateral lines.
The rook or steps, or slides (as wants incline
Or fears impel) in horizontal line;
Forward, back, sideways (to no space confined),
As many paces as content his mind.
In line diagonal the bishops move,
One step or more, as prudence may approve.
The knight, borne proudly on his fiery steed,
Leaps, and at once three paces can proceed
In all directions; measuring his track
From black to white, again from white to black—
Chequer'd the field where chessic warriors fight;
One square, or step, alternate, black and white.
Each piece (in chessic pieces “chiefs” imply,
To pawns alone that title they deny)—
124
Behind that friend he stops, nor dares proceed;
But should a foe obstruct his order'd way,
And he that foe should captivate or slay,
Where stood the vanquish'd must the victor stand,
Nor move till licensed by supreme command.
The pawns straight forward march: when first they move
Two steps they take, if prudence should approve;
After, their way by single step they make;
Forward they march, obliquely kill, or take;
And in an angle when a foe they join
The conqu'ring pawn pursues the vanquished's line.
The queen, more privileged by sovereign right,
Moves, takes and kills, as all do, save the knight;
No boundary limits, and no step confines;
Alike to her or distances or lines.
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No ties restrain her, and no barriers bound;
Let casque and corslet once disgrace her form,
'Tis sunshine darken'd by impending storm.
The cause now sing, to perish ere they'd yield,
Which led the adverse iv'ries to the field,
To wage the conflict, now our chief regard,
As sung by Phillidor the chessic bard.
In the “last lay” that mov'd his tuneful tongue,
A direful battle the sage minstrel sung;
Dread was the carnage, obstinate the fight,
The palm of triumph yielded to the white;
Shame bow'd the black, and thus the sable queen
Address'd her lord and liege, with vengeful mien:
“Rouse, glorious monarch, from this pause of shame,
And swear to renovate our pow'r and name;
Rouse thee, great Niger, at thy Nigra's call,
And prove this Phillidor a babbling brawl;
The white's great advocate, our foeman sworn;
But shall by us such insolence be borne?
Our fame is tainted by his partial lays,
Ours was the triumph, but they gain'd the praise.
Shall pale-faced Blanc, king of a chalky race,
With thy bronze phiz compare his whey-wash'd face?
Shall puny Blanche, his bloodless queen, presume
To match my beauty, like the black plum's bloom?
Shall Blanc's white bishop, Crosieroi, compete
With yours, black Mitrex? or her bishop neat,
Reinelawne, from Mitregina (mine) palm gain?
His knight, sir Garderoi, hers, sir Gardereine,
With yours, sir Ensorex; and mine, that knight
Of hardy deeds, sir Reginalde, show fight?
His rook, mean Roifort, with Rextour, your own;
Or Reineforte, hers, with Regintoure, my crone,
Vie, and we silent sit? My liege, for shame!
Go, brave the battle, and restore our fame:
See how I blush!”—Her royal blush was blue;
Niger look'd black, as sables ever do.
“Nigra,” he cried, “by your black eyes subdued,
Or your black looks, I know not which—what's good
To you good seems to me; for I ne'er lack,
When your black beauties, or your heart as black,
Ask my compliance, wish to please you, nor
Will now—Go, herald, and proclaim the war.”
And down he sat, as some portentous cloud,
Heavy and black, sits o'er some gathering crowd,
Seeming to say, “My torrents soon shall fall,
So, run, rapscallions, or I'll drown you all!”
Which led the adverse iv'ries to the field,
To wage the conflict, now our chief regard,
As sung by Phillidor the chessic bard.
In the “last lay” that mov'd his tuneful tongue,
A direful battle the sage minstrel sung;
Dread was the carnage, obstinate the fight,
The palm of triumph yielded to the white;
Shame bow'd the black, and thus the sable queen
Address'd her lord and liege, with vengeful mien:
“Rouse, glorious monarch, from this pause of shame,
And swear to renovate our pow'r and name;
Rouse thee, great Niger, at thy Nigra's call,
And prove this Phillidor a babbling brawl;
The white's great advocate, our foeman sworn;
But shall by us such insolence be borne?
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Ours was the triumph, but they gain'd the praise.
Shall pale-faced Blanc, king of a chalky race,
With thy bronze phiz compare his whey-wash'd face?
Shall puny Blanche, his bloodless queen, presume
To match my beauty, like the black plum's bloom?
Shall Blanc's white bishop, Crosieroi, compete
With yours, black Mitrex? or her bishop neat,
Reinelawne, from Mitregina (mine) palm gain?
His knight, sir Garderoi, hers, sir Gardereine,
With yours, sir Ensorex; and mine, that knight
Of hardy deeds, sir Reginalde, show fight?
His rook, mean Roifort, with Rextour, your own;
Or Reineforte, hers, with Regintoure, my crone,
Vie, and we silent sit? My liege, for shame!
Go, brave the battle, and restore our fame:
See how I blush!”—Her royal blush was blue;
Niger look'd black, as sables ever do.
“Nigra,” he cried, “by your black eyes subdued,
Or your black looks, I know not which—what's good
127
When your black beauties, or your heart as black,
Ask my compliance, wish to please you, nor
Will now—Go, herald, and proclaim the war.”
And down he sat, as some portentous cloud,
Heavy and black, sits o'er some gathering crowd,
Seeming to say, “My torrents soon shall fall,
So, run, rapscallions, or I'll drown you all!”
The pawn is restricted from moving two paces at first, should an adverse pawn be so placed that the moving pawn cannot proceed two steps without passing that which is stationary.
128
CANTO SECOND.
The gods, or demons, of gaming and chance assembled in council—Their names, characters, and powers—The war proclaimed by Niger canvassed—Hazard, the chief demon, declares his rage against Niger for omitting to pay him homage, and menaces him with his fulminated vengeance—Faro, remonstrating, incurs the indignation of Hazard, who threatens to hurl him down to earth, parodying Jupiter—Pope Joan pacifies Hazard, and convinces him that the chessic feuds will redound to his honour—The gods and goddesses obtain permission of Hazard to mingle in the battle, and to confound the presumption of Niger—Joan fills Hazard's golden cup, but not with nectar: he drinks, and the rest of the demons partake of their favourite drams—A round game is called, and Hazard tricks them all to gratify his spleen.
High o'er Charybdis and fell Scylla sat
The gods and goddesses of chance, in chat;
On a huge mount, by noxious clouds enclosed
Which Stygian vapours, dense as dire, composed.
There sat the gambler's gods, in gameful glee;
Such their Olympus, call'd a Rookery.
There sat they, watching where their vot'ries sly
Met to perform their rites: to cog the die,
To pack the cards, to thumb the devil's books,
And offer pigeons by their priests, the rooks.
High o'er the rest, most baneful to mankind,
Sat hungry Hazard; like the north-east wind,
Blighting Hope's flow'rs: below him, next in power,
Faro, E O, and Rouge et Noire; who cower
O'er fools and madmen, leading them astray,
And, having clutch'd, devouring all their prey.
There, with four hands, sat Whist; precise and mum,
Though fam'd for tricks, and odd tricks, too; next come
Thy claims, Piquette—from France the demon springs,
And, as her altar's priests, boast fourteen kings;
As many priestesses, in queens, she owns;
And fourteen knaves attend her various thrones.
But bless'd the king, if any fame report,
Who musters only fourteen knaves at court.
There Ombre, once by fashion's dames ador'd;
But now her altars are more starv'd than stor'd.
Quadrille, too: much her worship has decreas'd,
Spadille her augur, Basto is her priest.
Cribbage, whose altars votive pegs devour:
Who most can crib propitiates best the power.
There too, all-fours; by antiquated dame
Addressed; both high and low assert her fame;
A Jack her flamen, and her off'ring Game.
There Put, in tap-rooms his mean altar stands,
His greasy altar, serv'd with unwash'd hands;
Ace at his orgies leads, the deuce they play,
And burn their off'rings in a butcher's tray.
There sat dull Loo; a sordid pow'r, who rules
With sway unlimited; invoked by Pools;
His high priest Pam upon the margin stands,
“Loo! Loo!” he cries, and spreads his grasping hands;
Each pool he drags, the sacred fish to get,
And for his god “all's fish that comes to net.”
Pope Joan was there; not she of Rome the hope,
Who bless'd the conclave with a little pope;
Worship'd on winter nights; a pope her priest,
And fish and farthings her round altar feast.
Commerce, a demi-god, who but survives
(He eviternal) four precarious lives.
There Speculation, barter's God; and more,
Whose natures known, 'twere needless to explore.
The gods and goddesses of chance, in chat;
On a huge mount, by noxious clouds enclosed
Which Stygian vapours, dense as dire, composed.
129
Such their Olympus, call'd a Rookery.
There sat they, watching where their vot'ries sly
Met to perform their rites: to cog the die,
To pack the cards, to thumb the devil's books,
And offer pigeons by their priests, the rooks.
High o'er the rest, most baneful to mankind,
Sat hungry Hazard; like the north-east wind,
Blighting Hope's flow'rs: below him, next in power,
Faro, E O, and Rouge et Noire; who cower
O'er fools and madmen, leading them astray,
And, having clutch'd, devouring all their prey.
There, with four hands, sat Whist; precise and mum,
Though fam'd for tricks, and odd tricks, too; next come
Thy claims, Piquette—from France the demon springs,
And, as her altar's priests, boast fourteen kings;
As many priestesses, in queens, she owns;
And fourteen knaves attend her various thrones.
130
Who musters only fourteen knaves at court.
There Ombre, once by fashion's dames ador'd;
But now her altars are more starv'd than stor'd.
Quadrille, too: much her worship has decreas'd,
Spadille her augur, Basto is her priest.
Cribbage, whose altars votive pegs devour:
Who most can crib propitiates best the power.
There too, all-fours; by antiquated dame
Addressed; both high and low assert her fame;
A Jack her flamen, and her off'ring Game.
There Put, in tap-rooms his mean altar stands,
His greasy altar, serv'd with unwash'd hands;
Ace at his orgies leads, the deuce they play,
And burn their off'rings in a butcher's tray.
There sat dull Loo; a sordid pow'r, who rules
With sway unlimited; invoked by Pools;
His high priest Pam upon the margin stands,
“Loo! Loo!” he cries, and spreads his grasping hands;
Each pool he drags, the sacred fish to get,
And for his god “all's fish that comes to net.”
131
Who bless'd the conclave with a little pope;
Worship'd on winter nights; a pope her priest,
And fish and farthings her round altar feast.
Commerce, a demi-god, who but survives
(He eviternal) four precarious lives.
There Speculation, barter's God; and more,
Whose natures known, 'twere needless to explore.
All sat in council, when high Hazard saw
Niger prepare th' insatiate blade to draw;
Niger, the king who o'er black chess-men sway'd,
Who homage ne'er at Hazard's altar paid;
For chess-men, black or white, no creed advance
That owns dependence on the powers of chance.
On Niger Hazard fix'd his eager eye,
Lower'd his black brow, and look'd—tremendously!
“We hear,” he cried, “ye partners of our pow'r,
Big words from Niger of the sable tow'r;
Warfare he threatens on the white-rob'd king;
He, to our altars who'll no tribute bring,
Or ask our aid, or deprecate our rage;
Yet he, by us unsanction'd, dares engage:
For this I'll all his sable pow'rs confound;
His queen shall fall, his chieftains bite the ground;
His pawns be all beyond redemption cross'd,
Like real pawns, when duplicates are lost.
Not that the white king I regard, for he
No more than Niger off'ring brings to me,
But that not Blanc, but Niger, draws the sword,
Of us regardless, gaming's sov'reign lord.
Sixes and sevens shall confound his care,
No seven his main, and by size ace I swear”—
He paus'd, and shook his matted locks, that hurl'd
Mildew and pestilence throughout the world;
Charybdis' waves with tenfold fury swell,
And murd'rous Scylla howls within her hell;
The gods of gaming stood by awe engross'd,
When Faro rose, and with him all his host.
Niger prepare th' insatiate blade to draw;
Niger, the king who o'er black chess-men sway'd,
Who homage ne'er at Hazard's altar paid;
For chess-men, black or white, no creed advance
That owns dependence on the powers of chance.
On Niger Hazard fix'd his eager eye,
Lower'd his black brow, and look'd—tremendously!
“We hear,” he cried, “ye partners of our pow'r,
Big words from Niger of the sable tow'r;
132
He, to our altars who'll no tribute bring,
Or ask our aid, or deprecate our rage;
Yet he, by us unsanction'd, dares engage:
For this I'll all his sable pow'rs confound;
His queen shall fall, his chieftains bite the ground;
His pawns be all beyond redemption cross'd,
Like real pawns, when duplicates are lost.
Not that the white king I regard, for he
No more than Niger off'ring brings to me,
But that not Blanc, but Niger, draws the sword,
Of us regardless, gaming's sov'reign lord.
Sixes and sevens shall confound his care,
No seven his main, and by size ace I swear”—
He paus'd, and shook his matted locks, that hurl'd
Mildew and pestilence throughout the world;
Charybdis' waves with tenfold fury swell,
And murd'rous Scylla howls within her hell;
The gods of gaming stood by awe engross'd,
When Faro rose, and with him all his host.
133
“Father of all our pow'rs, why vent thy spite
On those too mean for thy resistless might?
Let them contend, and, though no previous pray'r
To thee was sent, the puny rebels spare;
About their sacrifice no more make fuss;
Their slaughter'd ranks are hecatombs to us.”
The awful Hazard no controlment brooks,
And dire the fury that inflam'd his looks,
When the great father of the swindling pow'rs
Exclaim'd, “Who dares dispute a word like ours?
What are ye all to us compar'd, mean Gods?
Between us calculate the mighty odds;
Ye, near whose altars no high spirit steps,
Your vot'ries dowagers and demireps,
And things of nothing, who but little boast;
Vent'ring mean hundreds, or each hundred's ghost—
And who is mighty Faro and his host?
Princes and dukes at my broad altars stand,
The pride, the boast, the glory of the land;
Who at one off'ring more enrich my shrine,
Faro, with more than hundreds paid at thine;
Who stake estates, unbounded! ay, and more,
Double and treble it thrice three times o'er;
Have stak'd whole provinces; had stak'd the world
Could they have grasp'd it, and in ruin hurl'd;
And when they 've offer'd all they have, and more,
My altar's crimson'd with their self-shed gore;
Honour, fame, friendship, ev'ry sacred tie,
Life and salvation stak'd upon the die;
The doubtful die, whose craving nought can sate,
Whose issue's famine and whose cast is fate.
And you, you, Faro, to dispute my will!
Persist not, fool, or fury takes its fill:
This thundering dice-box, at thy impious head
Hurl'd, shall transfix thee where no gamesters tread;
No gamesters there, with rankling pangs you pine,
Scotch'd of your rites and all your vot'ries mine.
Let down our dreadful ever rattling box,
Which holds what reason, faith, and feeling, shocks;
Strive all of gaming or of swindling birth
To frame than that a greater curse to earth,
Ye strive in vain: if I but stretch this hand,
I heave destruction o'er the fated land;
I fix the box upon the table's height,
And the vast stake lies forfeit in my sight;
For such I reign, unbounded, and will be;
And such are gamesters and their gods to me.”
He ceas'd; and had the baneful dice-box hurl'd,
As pagan Jove his bolts of thunder whirl'd,
Full at rash Faro's head, who duck'd with fear,
As schoolboy ducks, when threatening fist is near;
But beauteous Joan, the gentle pope, up came,
Intriguing Hebe to the god of game;
Pope Joan arose, and, soothing as the south,
With coaxing kisses stopp'd his arm, and mouth;
Her hand beneath his matted beard she plac'd,
And, bending low, his huge knock-knees embrac'd;
“Father, and first of all our race,” she cried,
(And smil'd insidiously) “let rage subside;
None will—none mean—none dare—thy greatness lower;
Advice we offer, but presume no more.”
His look was soften'd; and, in pout, he said,
“Go on—we listen;” then reclin'd his head.
She, smiling, thus, “For those your wrath who raise,
The chessic race, I scorn to plead, or praise;
But since on Chance they never must depend,
To thee, by fate, commission'd not to bend,
Forego your anger; and, since they disown
Your pow'r, still make the triumph all your own.
The pow'rs now present, when the fight flames high,
In various forms will to the battle fly;
Assume each leader's form when from his place,
And urge the ranks with ardour to embrace
Each desperate 'venture, to their own disgrace.
So shall their feuds, confounded, soothe your hate,
And slaughter'd heroes shall your vengeance sate;
While the proud king whom adverse pow'rs subdue
Shall mourn his host a sacrifice to you!”
She ceas'd—awhile in sulky thought he mus'd,
Assent then nodded and th' affront excus'd.
The Gods, resolv'd to mingle in the fray,
Like Homer's gods in Troy's disastrous day,
Requir'd his leave; he granted it, just so
As proud men favours on their pimps bestow.
But now, his irritated mind to soothe,
(For still his brow the tyrant could not smooth),
Joan, his dear Hebe, fill'd the golden cup
With—what I know not, but he drank it up.
Such drams as each preferr'd were order'd in;
“And now,” cried Joan, “a round game let's begin.”
Their pockets by his art soon Hazard eas'd,
The pow'rs were pilfer'd and his wrath appeas'd.
On those too mean for thy resistless might?
Let them contend, and, though no previous pray'r
To thee was sent, the puny rebels spare;
About their sacrifice no more make fuss;
Their slaughter'd ranks are hecatombs to us.”
The awful Hazard no controlment brooks,
And dire the fury that inflam'd his looks,
When the great father of the swindling pow'rs
Exclaim'd, “Who dares dispute a word like ours?
What are ye all to us compar'd, mean Gods?
Between us calculate the mighty odds;
Ye, near whose altars no high spirit steps,
Your vot'ries dowagers and demireps,
And things of nothing, who but little boast;
Vent'ring mean hundreds, or each hundred's ghost—
And who is mighty Faro and his host?
Princes and dukes at my broad altars stand,
The pride, the boast, the glory of the land;
Who at one off'ring more enrich my shrine,
Faro, with more than hundreds paid at thine;
134
Double and treble it thrice three times o'er;
Have stak'd whole provinces; had stak'd the world
Could they have grasp'd it, and in ruin hurl'd;
And when they 've offer'd all they have, and more,
My altar's crimson'd with their self-shed gore;
Honour, fame, friendship, ev'ry sacred tie,
Life and salvation stak'd upon the die;
The doubtful die, whose craving nought can sate,
Whose issue's famine and whose cast is fate.
And you, you, Faro, to dispute my will!
Persist not, fool, or fury takes its fill:
This thundering dice-box, at thy impious head
Hurl'd, shall transfix thee where no gamesters tread;
No gamesters there, with rankling pangs you pine,
Scotch'd of your rites and all your vot'ries mine.
Let down our dreadful ever rattling box,
Which holds what reason, faith, and feeling, shocks;
Strive all of gaming or of swindling birth
To frame than that a greater curse to earth,
135
I heave destruction o'er the fated land;
I fix the box upon the table's height,
And the vast stake lies forfeit in my sight;
For such I reign, unbounded, and will be;
And such are gamesters and their gods to me.”
He ceas'd; and had the baneful dice-box hurl'd,
As pagan Jove his bolts of thunder whirl'd,
Full at rash Faro's head, who duck'd with fear,
As schoolboy ducks, when threatening fist is near;
But beauteous Joan, the gentle pope, up came,
Intriguing Hebe to the god of game;
Pope Joan arose, and, soothing as the south,
With coaxing kisses stopp'd his arm, and mouth;
Her hand beneath his matted beard she plac'd,
And, bending low, his huge knock-knees embrac'd;
“Father, and first of all our race,” she cried,
(And smil'd insidiously) “let rage subside;
None will—none mean—none dare—thy greatness lower;
Advice we offer, but presume no more.”
136
“Go on—we listen;” then reclin'd his head.
She, smiling, thus, “For those your wrath who raise,
The chessic race, I scorn to plead, or praise;
But since on Chance they never must depend,
To thee, by fate, commission'd not to bend,
Forego your anger; and, since they disown
Your pow'r, still make the triumph all your own.
The pow'rs now present, when the fight flames high,
In various forms will to the battle fly;
Assume each leader's form when from his place,
And urge the ranks with ardour to embrace
Each desperate 'venture, to their own disgrace.
So shall their feuds, confounded, soothe your hate,
And slaughter'd heroes shall your vengeance sate;
While the proud king whom adverse pow'rs subdue
Shall mourn his host a sacrifice to you!”
She ceas'd—awhile in sulky thought he mus'd,
Assent then nodded and th' affront excus'd.
The Gods, resolv'd to mingle in the fray,
Like Homer's gods in Troy's disastrous day,
137
As proud men favours on their pimps bestow.
But now, his irritated mind to soothe,
(For still his brow the tyrant could not smooth),
Joan, his dear Hebe, fill'd the golden cup
With—what I know not, but he drank it up.
Such drams as each preferr'd were order'd in;
“And now,” cried Joan, “a round game let's begin.”
Their pockets by his art soon Hazard eas'd,
The pow'rs were pilfer'd and his wrath appeas'd.
138
CANTO THIRD.
ARGUMENT.
Morning gets up, lets out day-light, and locks up darkness—A simile in point—Chessic forces drawn out for battle—Their order, tactics, and discipline—Put, who has laid odds with Loo upon Niger, appears invisibly to Blanc, and induces him to begin the battle, in order to remove the anger of Hazard from Niger to the white king—Battle commences—Description of it, interspersed with similes and reflections—The demons assist their favourites—Deaths related in their proper places, as detailing them here would be killing the people before their time—Pope Joan makes a ferocious attack on a white knight—The combatants parted by Night—Bishop Crozier's speech—A parody.
Now Morning, yawning, rais'd her from her bed,
Slipp'd on her wrapper blue and 'kerchief red,
And took from Night the key of Sleep's abode;
For Night within that mansion had bestow'd
The Hours of day; now, turn and turn about,
Morn takes the key and lets the Day-hours out;
Laughing, they issue from the ebon gate,
And Night walks in. As when, in drowsy state,
Some watchman, wed to one who chars all day,
Takes to his lodging's door his creeping way;
His rib, arising, lets him in to sleep,
While she emerges to scrub, dust, and sweep.
Slipp'd on her wrapper blue and 'kerchief red,
And took from Night the key of Sleep's abode;
For Night within that mansion had bestow'd
139
Morn takes the key and lets the Day-hours out;
Laughing, they issue from the ebon gate,
And Night walks in. As when, in drowsy state,
Some watchman, wed to one who chars all day,
Takes to his lodging's door his creeping way;
His rib, arising, lets him in to sleep,
While she emerges to scrub, dust, and sweep.
'Twas morning now; and now the kings of chess
Draw out their forces, and their marching press;
Soon on the chequer'd field the foes appear,
Their ivory hearts impervious to a fear.
In horizontal lines the armies stand,
The field's extremities the chiefs command;
The white the north to fix their standard gain,
The black the southern confine of the plain;
Front daring front: two-deep, in rows confin'd;
The pawns before, king, queen and chiefs behind.
Muse, sing the chiefs, their names and their renown;
And first the forces of the lily crown.
Blanc the august, the white king, stood like Saul,
(Central, on black square) tallest of the tall.
Close at his left (on white) his consort stood,
Blanche, pallid Amazon, who show'd no blood
In her fair cheeks; but, when the fight began,
Boldly she singled and engag'd her man.
On Blanc's right hand, and Blanche's left, was plac'd
A lawn-olad bishop, but with corslet brac'd;
Sage Crosieroi, the king's; whose constant aim
Was checking Niger, to conclude the game.
For kings are sacred, and in chessic strife
Ensur'd from hazard is the royal life;
Nor will their law the ruthless soldier spare
A king to capture who should rashly dare;
But on some foe when fortune power bestows
The royal life or liberty to close
“Check!” must he cry; and to the threaten'd king
Should each remove an equal peril bring
“Checkmate!” they cry; the king the palm must yield.
Though all his forces should array the field.
But when the king—queen, chiefs and pawns, all lost;
Or pawns remain, each hemm'd in at his post—
Stands free from check, yet certain check must prove
Move when he may, and still impell'd to move,
“Stalemate!” the monarch cries, with joyful phiz,
The fight's decided and the victory his;
The foe, confounded, arms and standard bring,
A suppliant tribute to the vaunting king;
Who, big with triumph, struts: as oft I've seen
A conquering game-cock on a village green,
While he beheld his vanquish'd rival flee,
Strut, clap his wings, and crow for victory.
At Blanche's left mild Reinelawn (bishop's queen),
Gentle in manner, firm in mind, was seen;
His tutor'd duty to oppose the track
Of Mitrex fell, king's bishop of the black.
Close to each bishop stood a knight of force,
Each proudly seated on a menag'd horse,
Which o'er the field, curvetting here and there,
Spread dread dismay, and ruin, and despair.
Garderoi the king's side took; Gardereine the side
Where royal Blanche appear'd, in ivory pride.
Sidelong by these the rooks: Roifort the right
Of Blanc, and Reineforte the opposing site.
The pawns before them in a line extend,
A pigmy race, but far too brave to bend;
Equal in rank, except the pawn dispos'd
Front of the bishop with the king who clos'd,
The monarch's body guard, he kept his stand
Till case extreme his marching should command.
On northern limit thus the whites were plac'd,
Blacks on the south their equal rivals fac'd.
Niger and Nigra on the middle site,
She stood on black, the monarch on the white;
Mitrex, Rexensor, and Rextour, the pride
Of Niger's army, grac'd the monarch's side.
Black Mitregina, Reginalde the knight,
And brave rook Regintoure, guard Nigra's right.
Draw out their forces, and their marching press;
Soon on the chequer'd field the foes appear,
Their ivory hearts impervious to a fear.
In horizontal lines the armies stand,
The field's extremities the chiefs command;
The white the north to fix their standard gain,
The black the southern confine of the plain;
Front daring front: two-deep, in rows confin'd;
The pawns before, king, queen and chiefs behind.
Muse, sing the chiefs, their names and their renown;
And first the forces of the lily crown.
140
(Central, on black square) tallest of the tall.
Close at his left (on white) his consort stood,
Blanche, pallid Amazon, who show'd no blood
In her fair cheeks; but, when the fight began,
Boldly she singled and engag'd her man.
On Blanc's right hand, and Blanche's left, was plac'd
A lawn-olad bishop, but with corslet brac'd;
Sage Crosieroi, the king's; whose constant aim
Was checking Niger, to conclude the game.
For kings are sacred, and in chessic strife
Ensur'd from hazard is the royal life;
Nor will their law the ruthless soldier spare
A king to capture who should rashly dare;
But on some foe when fortune power bestows
The royal life or liberty to close
“Check!” must he cry; and to the threaten'd king
Should each remove an equal peril bring
“Checkmate!” they cry; the king the palm must yield.
Though all his forces should array the field.
141
Or pawns remain, each hemm'd in at his post—
Stands free from check, yet certain check must prove
Move when he may, and still impell'd to move,
“Stalemate!” the monarch cries, with joyful phiz,
The fight's decided and the victory his;
The foe, confounded, arms and standard bring,
A suppliant tribute to the vaunting king;
Who, big with triumph, struts: as oft I've seen
A conquering game-cock on a village green,
While he beheld his vanquish'd rival flee,
Strut, clap his wings, and crow for victory.
At Blanche's left mild Reinelawn (bishop's queen),
Gentle in manner, firm in mind, was seen;
His tutor'd duty to oppose the track
Of Mitrex fell, king's bishop of the black.
Close to each bishop stood a knight of force,
Each proudly seated on a menag'd horse,
Which o'er the field, curvetting here and there,
Spread dread dismay, and ruin, and despair.
142
Where royal Blanche appear'd, in ivory pride.
Sidelong by these the rooks: Roifort the right
Of Blanc, and Reineforte the opposing site.
The pawns before them in a line extend,
A pigmy race, but far too brave to bend;
Equal in rank, except the pawn dispos'd
Front of the bishop with the king who clos'd,
The monarch's body guard, he kept his stand
Till case extreme his marching should command.
On northern limit thus the whites were plac'd,
Blacks on the south their equal rivals fac'd.
Niger and Nigra on the middle site,
She stood on black, the monarch on the white;
Mitrex, Rexensor, and Rextour, the pride
Of Niger's army, grac'd the monarch's side.
Black Mitregina, Reginalde the knight,
And brave rook Regintoure, guard Nigra's right.
Now in the Rookery the gods of game
Assembled sat, to view the field of fame;
There angry Hazard, high above the rest,
In thought profound, a mist of mildew press'd;
One arm thrown, careless, o'er a cloud of blight,
The other's elbow press'd a fog of night;
The hand his chin receiv'd, which there reclin'd;
The fingers, part before and part behind
His tangled beard; one foot was backward drawn,
T' other, stretch'd out, a bog-mist rested on.
Thence his keen eye survey'd the chessic lawns,
The kings, queens, bishops, champions, rooks, and pawns.
Awhile both armies meditating stood;
No trumpet's clangor urg'd the direful feud,
But awful silence through each phalanx reign'd,
And wary thought impetuous heat restrain'd.
Both trac'd the field with circumspective eyes,
Each chance to calculate and ward surprise.
As when the elephant, in wild retreat,
And barb'd rhinoceros abrubtly meet;
By nature foes; each other they survey
With anxious scrutiny; the mortal fray
Each to anticipate intent; for he
That first advantage gains must victor be.
If that with pond'rous trunk first strike the blow,
Stunn'd, an immediate conquest is the foe;
But if the foe the pond'rous trunk evade,
Death's certain dart his fatal horn is made.
So chess-men rush not to a pell-mell fray,
But vict'ry gain, like Fabius, by delay.
At length, from where the speculating gods
Survey'd the field, and gave and took the odds,
Impatient Put came down the misty way,
Drawn by three steeds, his car a pasteboard tray;
His steeds (from Pluto's old black hackney bred,
And Mars' red mare) were shewbald, black and red.
Impetuous Put, deceitful power, who plays
His cards astutely, recreant fears to raise
Within the adverse breast: all shifts he knows;
With weakest hand the boldest fight he shows;
Puts upon nothing, with imposing frown,
And by effront'ry bears his rival down.
Niger his aim, his care was to excite
The pallid monarch to begin the fight;
Deeming first blow a foul offence would prove,
And Hazard's anger from the blacks remove;
Remov'd, on Blanc with double force 'twould fall,
The white hope wither, and confound them all.
Blanc's cause no injury had he aim'd to do,
But that on Niger he took odds with Loo.
Blanc then he sought, and speciously began,
“Why don't you put 'em boldly, like a man?
Daring does wonders, shrinking brings remorse;
Whirlwinds and torrents own resistless force.
On to the charge then, victory I bring;
I, guardian genius of the white-rob'd king.”
Veil'd in thick mist he spake; the wondering white
Heard his good genius, though conceal'd the sprite,
Admiring heard: his crafty words persuade;
“Charge!” cried the monarch, and the men obey'd.
Blanc-pawn (the pawn before the king who stands)
Two paces marches, as the king commands.
Niger-pawn (he before the black king set)
Stepp'd out two paces and his rival met.
There foot to foot they stood; while scorn each lower'd,
But dar'd not charge till fresh command empower'd;
Chessmen a Roman discipline obey,
And he who strikes unbidden, though the day
His prowess gain, resigns his forfeit breath,
Crown'd, like young Manlius, by the hand of death.
Now mitred Crosieroi the opening cleft
And front of Reinelawn stood, to Blanche's left.
The sable Mitrex saw the lily priest,
His biting falchion from its sheath releas'd,
Flew where he stood—Piquet's assurance got
That he the rival Bishop should capotte—
And he had cleft him, but that Pope, unseen,
The desperate Bishops threw herself between;
Between them drew an horizontal line,
Spell-fraught, and shield against each rash design.
The Pawn which front of bishop Reinlawne staid,
By Blanche commanded, one advance then made;
When fierce sir Ensorex, by Brog inspir'd,
O'erleap'd black Mitrex' pawn, by vengeance fir'd,
Thirsting for blood. Blanch-pawn two paces squar'd,
To shield from Mitrex Blanc's white body guard,
And reach the centre of the field, for there
Phalanx to place is chessic warrior's care.
But there stood Niger-pawn, and Cribbage, near,
“Peg that white boaster,” whisper'd in his ear:
Niger-pawn took the hint, commenc'd death's strife,
Pegg'd him to earth, and cribb'd his lily life.
A white pawn nigh return'd on him death's job,
Fell'd him, and cried, “There's one, sir, for your nob.”
Mitrex retired one pace, advis'd by Loo,
Who though a desperate demon's cautious too,
And politicians of the chessic race
In the king's bishop's fall foretell disgrace;
His line of movements caution must supply,
And not from fear he flies but policy.
Loo chose the whites for that, among the gods,
On Blanc, with Put (as sung), he took the odds.
Now white sir Gard'reine pranc'd upon the plain,
A station front of Reinelawne's post to gain,
Behind brave Crosieroi. The sable king,
Suspecting ill from Crosieroi would spring,
For full security his station took
Within the castle of his left-hand rook.
Now brave sir Garderoi, to inspect the throng,
Bounded, and rested at the feet of Blanc:
The pawn that fronted the black bishop kept
His place no more, but one pace forward stepp'd.
Crosier recedes one pace, compell'd by Joan,
Who saw the black queen's pawn come posting on;
And, urg'd by Brag, two paces went the pawn,
Threat'ning, with flourish'd blade, the man of lawn.
Blanc-pawn, one pace, resumes his tardy course,
Edging at angles fell Rexensor's horse;
The fiery horse retreats: O, shameful flight,
A mean foot soldier drove a mounted knight!
'Twas Put, though foe to whites, yet pleas'd to see
The soldier's daring, saw the jeopardy
In which he stood, oppos'd the furious knight,
But only present to his horse's sight;
The sudden vision struck the horse with fear,
“Put” bawl'd the god, like thunder, in its ear;
Backward, with sudden fright, the charger leapt,
Sidelong with Nigra; there his station kept.
Fair Blanche's bishop, of inaction tir'd,
Three paces to her right advanc'd, inspir'd
By Speculation; who, as aid-de-camp,
Appear'd with orders from the mighty Blanc.
One step the pawn in front of Rextour took,
To make an op'ning for the towering rook.
Now the white queen, with cautious, studious, care,
Her station changes to the forward square;
Her whiting's eyes around the field she throws,
Her friends salutes with smiles, with scorn her foes.
Now Niger's body guard essays the fight,
Despatching Blanc-pawn to the realms of night;
Blanche-pawn beheld and left, a just reward,
Headless the body of the body guard;
While Nigra's bishop took three squares his course,
To guard her pawn from the oppos'd white horse.
Now Blanc's prompt knight tow'rds Mitregina flies
To take the black queen's bishop by surprise
When next he leaps; which catching Nigra's sight,
Her spear she poises and her aim the knight;
Steps out, obliquely to the left, one pace;
The horse grows restive at her grisly face.
Reinelawn and Mitrex long oppos'd had stood,
Scorn in their eyes, anath'ma in their mood;
The road lay open, none their fury stay'd,
But Joan, her care who every bishop made;
Now, absent she, to Reinelawn Commerce came,
Cried “See your rival, I your shield, take aim;
He has but one life, let that drop to me;
Translate the bishop to some other see.”
“The dead sea,” Reinelawne cried, with punning spite,
And sent the mitred black to blacker night.
A pawn, behind, aveng'd his bishop's blood,
And sent the slayer to the Stygian flood.
To Roifort's castle wary Blanc retires,
To watch the field, while Nigra's knight aspires
His queen to second; to her side he flies,
Angled by Ensorex. Sir Garderoi eyes
The black queen's bishop with relentless hate,
Leaps on his foe with man and horse's weight;
The trampled bishop dies: when Joan return'd,
Three death-translated mitred sons she mourn'd,
Fir'd by revenge, she seiz'd fierce Nigra's dart,
And drave the weapon through the horseman's heart;
Then stabb'd the horse, which plung'd, and with a bound
Leap'd four yards high, then bit the shaken ground;
Down came the knight, his armour and his bones
Rattling like some huge load of tilted stones.
Now Night's approach made Crosieroi extend
His ivory crook. The signal all attend
Sacred to chessmen; all obedience yield
To him, sole Bishop on the fatal field.
All wait to hear the venerable man,
Who strok'd his ivory beard and thus began.
“Forbear, my sons, to urge on further thrall;
All dear to men, though Hazard hates ye all:
O'er all the world your wondrous worth is known,
Your blood says nothing, but all know your bone.
Now her `thick blanket' yawning Night has spread;
'Tis half-past twelve, and time to go to bed;
To-morrow-day again shall lead to fame,
And fate shall check determine, and the game.”
He ceas'd, the kings this royal answer made,
“The bishop parts us; be the Night obey'd.”
Assembled sat, to view the field of fame;
143
In thought profound, a mist of mildew press'd;
One arm thrown, careless, o'er a cloud of blight,
The other's elbow press'd a fog of night;
The hand his chin receiv'd, which there reclin'd;
The fingers, part before and part behind
His tangled beard; one foot was backward drawn,
T' other, stretch'd out, a bog-mist rested on.
Thence his keen eye survey'd the chessic lawns,
The kings, queens, bishops, champions, rooks, and pawns.
Awhile both armies meditating stood;
No trumpet's clangor urg'd the direful feud,
But awful silence through each phalanx reign'd,
And wary thought impetuous heat restrain'd.
Both trac'd the field with circumspective eyes,
Each chance to calculate and ward surprise.
As when the elephant, in wild retreat,
And barb'd rhinoceros abrubtly meet;
By nature foes; each other they survey
With anxious scrutiny; the mortal fray
144
That first advantage gains must victor be.
If that with pond'rous trunk first strike the blow,
Stunn'd, an immediate conquest is the foe;
But if the foe the pond'rous trunk evade,
Death's certain dart his fatal horn is made.
So chess-men rush not to a pell-mell fray,
But vict'ry gain, like Fabius, by delay.
At length, from where the speculating gods
Survey'd the field, and gave and took the odds,
Impatient Put came down the misty way,
Drawn by three steeds, his car a pasteboard tray;
His steeds (from Pluto's old black hackney bred,
And Mars' red mare) were shewbald, black and red.
Impetuous Put, deceitful power, who plays
His cards astutely, recreant fears to raise
Within the adverse breast: all shifts he knows;
With weakest hand the boldest fight he shows;
Puts upon nothing, with imposing frown,
And by effront'ry bears his rival down.
145
The pallid monarch to begin the fight;
Deeming first blow a foul offence would prove,
And Hazard's anger from the blacks remove;
Remov'd, on Blanc with double force 'twould fall,
The white hope wither, and confound them all.
Blanc's cause no injury had he aim'd to do,
But that on Niger he took odds with Loo.
Blanc then he sought, and speciously began,
“Why don't you put 'em boldly, like a man?
Daring does wonders, shrinking brings remorse;
Whirlwinds and torrents own resistless force.
On to the charge then, victory I bring;
I, guardian genius of the white-rob'd king.”
Veil'd in thick mist he spake; the wondering white
Heard his good genius, though conceal'd the sprite,
Admiring heard: his crafty words persuade;
“Charge!” cried the monarch, and the men obey'd.
146
Two paces marches, as the king commands.
Niger-pawn (he before the black king set)
Stepp'd out two paces and his rival met.
There foot to foot they stood; while scorn each lower'd,
But dar'd not charge till fresh command empower'd;
Chessmen a Roman discipline obey,
And he who strikes unbidden, though the day
His prowess gain, resigns his forfeit breath,
Crown'd, like young Manlius, by the hand of death.
Now mitred Crosieroi the opening cleft
And front of Reinelawn stood, to Blanche's left.
The sable Mitrex saw the lily priest,
His biting falchion from its sheath releas'd,
147
That he the rival Bishop should capotte—
And he had cleft him, but that Pope, unseen,
The desperate Bishops threw herself between;
Between them drew an horizontal line,
Spell-fraught, and shield against each rash design.
The Pawn which front of bishop Reinlawne staid,
By Blanche commanded, one advance then made;
When fierce sir Ensorex, by Brog inspir'd,
O'erleap'd black Mitrex' pawn, by vengeance fir'd,
Thirsting for blood. Blanch-pawn two paces squar'd,
To shield from Mitrex Blanc's white body guard,
And reach the centre of the field, for there
Phalanx to place is chessic warrior's care.
148
“Peg that white boaster,” whisper'd in his ear:
Niger-pawn took the hint, commenc'd death's strife,
Pegg'd him to earth, and cribb'd his lily life.
A white pawn nigh return'd on him death's job,
Fell'd him, and cried, “There's one, sir, for your nob.”
Mitrex retired one pace, advis'd by Loo,
Who though a desperate demon's cautious too,
And politicians of the chessic race
In the king's bishop's fall foretell disgrace;
His line of movements caution must supply,
And not from fear he flies but policy.
Loo chose the whites for that, among the gods,
On Blanc, with Put (as sung), he took the odds.
Now white sir Gard'reine pranc'd upon the plain,
A station front of Reinelawne's post to gain,
149
Suspecting ill from Crosieroi would spring,
For full security his station took
Within the castle of his left-hand rook.
Now brave sir Garderoi, to inspect the throng,
Bounded, and rested at the feet of Blanc:
The pawn that fronted the black bishop kept
His place no more, but one pace forward stepp'd.
Crosier recedes one pace, compell'd by Joan,
Who saw the black queen's pawn come posting on;
And, urg'd by Brag, two paces went the pawn,
Threat'ning, with flourish'd blade, the man of lawn.
150
Edging at angles fell Rexensor's horse;
The fiery horse retreats: O, shameful flight,
A mean foot soldier drove a mounted knight!
'Twas Put, though foe to whites, yet pleas'd to see
The soldier's daring, saw the jeopardy
In which he stood, oppos'd the furious knight,
But only present to his horse's sight;
The sudden vision struck the horse with fear,
“Put” bawl'd the god, like thunder, in its ear;
Backward, with sudden fright, the charger leapt,
Sidelong with Nigra; there his station kept.
Fair Blanche's bishop, of inaction tir'd,
Three paces to her right advanc'd, inspir'd
By Speculation; who, as aid-de-camp,
Appear'd with orders from the mighty Blanc.
151
To make an op'ning for the towering rook.
Now the white queen, with cautious, studious, care,
Her station changes to the forward square;
Her whiting's eyes around the field she throws,
Her friends salutes with smiles, with scorn her foes.
Now Niger's body guard essays the fight,
Despatching Blanc-pawn to the realms of night;
Blanche-pawn beheld and left, a just reward,
Headless the body of the body guard;
While Nigra's bishop took three squares his course,
To guard her pawn from the oppos'd white horse.
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To take the black queen's bishop by surprise
When next he leaps; which catching Nigra's sight,
Her spear she poises and her aim the knight;
Steps out, obliquely to the left, one pace;
The horse grows restive at her grisly face.
Reinelawn and Mitrex long oppos'd had stood,
Scorn in their eyes, anath'ma in their mood;
The road lay open, none their fury stay'd,
But Joan, her care who every bishop made;
Now, absent she, to Reinelawn Commerce came,
Cried “See your rival, I your shield, take aim;
He has but one life, let that drop to me;
Translate the bishop to some other see.”
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And sent the mitred black to blacker night.
A pawn, behind, aveng'd his bishop's blood,
And sent the slayer to the Stygian flood.
To Roifort's castle wary Blanc retires,
To watch the field, while Nigra's knight aspires
His queen to second; to her side he flies,
Angled by Ensorex. Sir Garderoi eyes
The black queen's bishop with relentless hate,
Leaps on his foe with man and horse's weight;
The trampled bishop dies: when Joan return'd,
Three death-translated mitred sons she mourn'd,
Fir'd by revenge, she seiz'd fierce Nigra's dart,
And drave the weapon through the horseman's heart;
Then stabb'd the horse, which plung'd, and with a bound
Leap'd four yards high, then bit the shaken ground;
154
Rattling like some huge load of tilted stones.
Now Night's approach made Crosieroi extend
His ivory crook. The signal all attend
Sacred to chessmen; all obedience yield
To him, sole Bishop on the fatal field.
All wait to hear the venerable man,
Who strok'd his ivory beard and thus began.
“Forbear, my sons, to urge on further thrall;
All dear to men, though Hazard hates ye all:
O'er all the world your wondrous worth is known,
Your blood says nothing, but all know your bone.
Now her `thick blanket' yawning Night has spread;
'Tis half-past twelve, and time to go to bed;
To-morrow-day again shall lead to fame,
And fate shall check determine, and the game.”
He ceas'd, the kings this royal answer made,
“The bishop parts us; be the Night obey'd.”
i. e. He castled. The king can castle on either side, when there is no piece between the king and the rook with which he intends to castle; but he cannot castle when in check, nor if he has previously made a move. In castleing, the rook is brought up to the king, and the king removed to the square next beyond the rook.
155
CANTO FOURTH.
ARGUMENT.
To-morrow, or the next morning, compared to a maid sprinkling the doorway with her mop—More parody—The gods of game, prohibited mixing in the fray by Hazard, determine to go incog.—More rounds of the battle—Lamentable fates of the rival queens, and the grief of the widowed kings—Suspension of hostilities, to enable the monarchs to remove the bodies of their queens in solemn state—Heart-rending anguish of the chessic tribes—Put and Loo doubtful, and alarmed about their bet—They determine to mingle in the fight incog. —Are dissuaded by Pope Joan, who advises them to entreat permission of Hazard—They follow her advice and repair to the sire of gaming—Their reception—Description of Hazard's mouth—How it opens—His anger—Joan assuages it—They gain permission—How and why.
Rebecca now, as oft she had before,
Sprinkled with twirling mop her master's door;
When Hazard all the gamesters' gods conven'd,
Where the high rookery's clouds the demons screen'd;
The sire of swindlers broke dread silence through,
But what he said I know no more than you,
Further than this, the demons he forbade
The chessic field to enter or to aid;
While they, when he sat shrouded in his fog,
Resolv'd to have the frolic out incog.
Meantime his tilbury the gambling Jove
Mounted and to the zodiac circle drove;
Thence snatch'd the scules, the doubtful fate to weigh
Of chessic warfare and the furious day;
In one black iv'ry put, in t'other white,
The one prov'd heavy and the other light.
Which kick'd the beam uncertain must remain,
Till “check and triumph” finish the campaign.
Sprinkled with twirling mop her master's door;
156
Where the high rookery's clouds the demons screen'd;
The sire of swindlers broke dread silence through,
But what he said I know no more than you,
Further than this, the demons he forbade
The chessic field to enter or to aid;
While they, when he sat shrouded in his fog,
Resolv'd to have the frolic out incog.
Meantime his tilbury the gambling Jove
Mounted and to the zodiac circle drove;
Thence snatch'd the scules, the doubtful fate to weigh
Of chessic warfare and the furious day;
In one black iv'ry put, in t'other white,
The one prov'd heavy and the other light.
Which kick'd the beam uncertain must remain,
Till “check and triumph” finish the campaign.
'Twas morning now; the chessic bands took post,
Each where he stood when night dismiss'd the host,
Eager for strife.
The body guard of Blanc
Two paces moved, to where rude clangor rang.
Black Ensorex curvetted to the right,
In lateral order with his comrade knight.
In his king's square the white king's rook was seen,
Close to Rextour and facing Nigra's queen.
Rexensor's pawn from Niger's front then went
One step, to guard grim Nigra his intent;
For Blancs white body guard one step alone
Lack'd to where stood the mistress of the throne;
That step, if sovereign mandate had compell'd,
The pawn had taken and had Nigra fell'd;
But that step taken now the white king knew
Death to his body's guardian must ensue.
Now Blanc impels a soldier on his right
Forward one motion, eager to unite
His straggling infantry in solid band,
And, hence, success with vigour to command.
By Whist advis'd; who scans events in train,
Of points tenacious, and of honours vain.
Then Nigra's pawn, with one bold step, attack'd
The hors'd sir Gard'reine, who abruptly back'd,
And leapt to where a white pawn stood, between
Himself and Niger's yet inactive queen—
For, Niger's orders fated to obey,
Fix'd stood the queen, tho' fretting for the fray—
Wond'ring he leapt and blushing that he fled,
That one foot soldier struck his sould with dread;
But game's queer gods were sneaking on the lawn,
And Put attack'd him, imag'd by the pawn.
Niger observ'd the knight again to leap
Prepar'd; his eye on one spot saw him keep,
As meditating next that spot to gain,
From whence one leap had finish'd Nigra's reign;
Hence he commanded Rextour's pawn to move
One step, the knight to foil and save his love.
One move sir Gard'reine's pawn, with caution made,
The oppos'd Black pawn mov'd once, there, watching, staid.
Twice stepping, Garderoi's pawn the centre gain'd,
Where a strong line his comrade pawns maintain'd.
Niger's black knight, the centre line to force,
With eager spur impell'd his restive horse;
Stopp'd where his charger and sir Gard'reine's steed
Stood foot to foot: nor dared the knights proceed
To courted combat till obtain'd command;
There fix'd, with angry impotence they stand.
So have I seen two bull-dogs grin with spite,
Held by their masters from the ruthless fight;
Held by the neck; but yet, for sport oppos'd;
Put on, then check'd, tho' by each other nos'd;
While growling, snarling, with their eyes on fire,
Foaming, and struggling, each displays his ire;
Fruitless that ire; fierce looks from brute to brute,
Foretell dread slaughter when the time shall suit.
But Blanc to aid his bishop's pawn intent,
Who Nigra near'd, command to Gard'reine sent
To wheel with rapid course, and backward spring,
And stand two squares before the pallid king,
That Cros'roi's pawn on boldly he might push:
The hint was Loo's, t' ensure of whites a flush,
Nigra his mark, who only had for guard
A rook and man;—could these the pawn retard,
Trebly supported, had he gone his course,
Back'd by a castle, bishop, and a horse?
But Niger, watching with a lynx's eye,
Bade bold Rexensor to her rescue fly;
Facing strong Reineforte, elbowing queen Blanche,
He stands: when, like a sudden avalanche,
Huge Reineforte falls resistless on the knight,
Whose body tarries, but his soul takes flight.
Yet, lurking there, the pawn of Nigra came,
The towering rook o'erlook'd the puny game;
Yes, like the fool, who from a small wound died,
Which, deem'd as trifling, spread and mortified,
Proud Reineforte scorn'd the humble pawn, whose blade
Under the rook's fifth rib a passage made;
Th' unwieldy rook's o'erthrow pale Blanche appals,
For dread's the panic when a castle falls!
But short the time the queen on grief bestows,
The pawn stands pertly 'neath her royal nose,
And he had slain her, but the agile fair
Seiz'd the bold menial by his raven hair;
He aim'd to strike—'twas button to a boat—
She thrust her falchion down his craven throat,
Then spurn'd him off; yet honour'd was his death,
Since hands as fair as royal stopp'd his breath.
Now Regintoure, the black queen's rook, first mov'd,
And kill'd the pawn the slaughter'd Reineforte lov'd;
A maiden pawn, whom Reineforte would have wed,
But she, aspiring, ey'd a nobler bed;
And, brave as fair, if death Blanche' fate had been,
The lovely amazon bade fair for queen.
Roifort, remaining rook, remov'd his post
To that black square his sovereign first engross'd,
To back his queen and Blanche's favour'd pawn;
Nigra, obliquely, skimm'd the hostile lawn,
And Gard'reine's pawn to other realms despatch'd;
When Blanche, her course who circumspectly watch'd,
Stepp'd one square forward (Crosier at her beck),
In Nigra's absence Niger's self to check.
But Nigra saw; as birds, the air she cleft,
Her state resuming on the spot she'd left,
Facing, and frowning at, the adverse queen;
A pawn their bodies, hate their souls between.
Blanc's bishop's pawn now rashly Nigra braves,
A black pawn sends him to his fathers' graves;
The black pawn, braving Blanche, in turn is slain
By Garderoi's pawn, white horseman of the plain;
The pawn, elated by his foe's defeat,
Attack's stern Nigra; she, as fierce as fleet,
Obliquely moves and, with a taunting mien,
Seizes the mantle of the rival queen;
“Of one or both of us the time is come,”
She cried, then—flitted to eternal home;
Sent there by Blanche who, as rash Nigra flew
To meet her, slily a fell poniard drew,
With her left hand the black queen's sword-arm caught,
While with the right her coal-black heart she sought;
Sought and secur'd; the dagger tapp'd its blood:
Nigra lay rolling in an inky flood.
Blanche with a conqueror's foot her bosom press'd;
“Go, fiend,” she cried, “but vainly hope for rest;
Where'er thy spirit goes no peace can be,
Thyself the origin of anarchy.”
Then turn'd, exulting, from the royal dead,
And wav'd her shield, triumphant, o'er her head;
Niger then faced and would her dart have thrown,
But dar'd not—“Check!” she cried, “the field's our own;
Blanc reigns triumphant! and his queen”—was gone,
Pierc'd by the jav'lin of a crafty pawn.
The widow'd kings awhile give nature way;
Awhile suspend their anger and the fray,
The royal victims from the field to move:
And ivory tears each bosom's anguish prove.
The mournful chiefs upraise the bleeding pair;
Each to her tent with solemn steps they bear:
There, laid in state, the amazons they leave;
Retire in silence, and retire to grieve.
Each where he stood when night dismiss'd the host,
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Two paces moved, to where rude clangor rang.
Black Ensorex curvetted to the right,
In lateral order with his comrade knight.
In his king's square the white king's rook was seen,
Close to Rextour and facing Nigra's queen.
Rexensor's pawn from Niger's front then went
One step, to guard grim Nigra his intent;
For Blancs white body guard one step alone
Lack'd to where stood the mistress of the throne;
That step, if sovereign mandate had compell'd,
The pawn had taken and had Nigra fell'd;
But that step taken now the white king knew
Death to his body's guardian must ensue.
158
Forward one motion, eager to unite
His straggling infantry in solid band,
And, hence, success with vigour to command.
By Whist advis'd; who scans events in train,
Of points tenacious, and of honours vain.
Then Nigra's pawn, with one bold step, attack'd
The hors'd sir Gard'reine, who abruptly back'd,
And leapt to where a white pawn stood, between
Himself and Niger's yet inactive queen—
For, Niger's orders fated to obey,
Fix'd stood the queen, tho' fretting for the fray—
Wond'ring he leapt and blushing that he fled,
That one foot soldier struck his sould with dread;
But game's queer gods were sneaking on the lawn,
And Put attack'd him, imag'd by the pawn.
159
Prepar'd; his eye on one spot saw him keep,
As meditating next that spot to gain,
From whence one leap had finish'd Nigra's reign;
Hence he commanded Rextour's pawn to move
One step, the knight to foil and save his love.
One move sir Gard'reine's pawn, with caution made,
The oppos'd Black pawn mov'd once, there, watching, staid.
Twice stepping, Garderoi's pawn the centre gain'd,
Where a strong line his comrade pawns maintain'd.
Niger's black knight, the centre line to force,
With eager spur impell'd his restive horse;
160
Stood foot to foot: nor dared the knights proceed
To courted combat till obtain'd command;
There fix'd, with angry impotence they stand.
So have I seen two bull-dogs grin with spite,
Held by their masters from the ruthless fight;
Held by the neck; but yet, for sport oppos'd;
Put on, then check'd, tho' by each other nos'd;
While growling, snarling, with their eyes on fire,
Foaming, and struggling, each displays his ire;
Fruitless that ire; fierce looks from brute to brute,
Foretell dread slaughter when the time shall suit.
But Blanc to aid his bishop's pawn intent,
Who Nigra near'd, command to Gard'reine sent
To wheel with rapid course, and backward spring,
And stand two squares before the pallid king,
That Cros'roi's pawn on boldly he might push:
The hint was Loo's, t' ensure of whites a flush,
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A rook and man;—could these the pawn retard,
Trebly supported, had he gone his course,
Back'd by a castle, bishop, and a horse?
But Niger, watching with a lynx's eye,
Bade bold Rexensor to her rescue fly;
Facing strong Reineforte, elbowing queen Blanche,
He stands: when, like a sudden avalanche,
Huge Reineforte falls resistless on the knight,
Whose body tarries, but his soul takes flight.
Yet, lurking there, the pawn of Nigra came,
The towering rook o'erlook'd the puny game;
Yes, like the fool, who from a small wound died,
Which, deem'd as trifling, spread and mortified,
Proud Reineforte scorn'd the humble pawn, whose blade
Under the rook's fifth rib a passage made;
162
For dread's the panic when a castle falls!
But short the time the queen on grief bestows,
The pawn stands pertly 'neath her royal nose,
And he had slain her, but the agile fair
Seiz'd the bold menial by his raven hair;
He aim'd to strike—'twas button to a boat—
She thrust her falchion down his craven throat,
Then spurn'd him off; yet honour'd was his death,
Since hands as fair as royal stopp'd his breath.
Now Regintoure, the black queen's rook, first mov'd,
And kill'd the pawn the slaughter'd Reineforte lov'd;
A maiden pawn, whom Reineforte would have wed,
But she, aspiring, ey'd a nobler bed;
And, brave as fair, if death Blanche' fate had been,
The lovely amazon bade fair for queen.
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To that black square his sovereign first engross'd,
To back his queen and Blanche's favour'd pawn;
Nigra, obliquely, skimm'd the hostile lawn,
And Gard'reine's pawn to other realms despatch'd;
When Blanche, her course who circumspectly watch'd,
Stepp'd one square forward (Crosier at her beck),
In Nigra's absence Niger's self to check.
But Nigra saw; as birds, the air she cleft,
Her state resuming on the spot she'd left,
Facing, and frowning at, the adverse queen;
A pawn their bodies, hate their souls between.
Blanc's bishop's pawn now rashly Nigra braves,
A black pawn sends him to his fathers' graves;
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By Garderoi's pawn, white horseman of the plain;
The pawn, elated by his foe's defeat,
Attack's stern Nigra; she, as fierce as fleet,
Obliquely moves and, with a taunting mien,
Seizes the mantle of the rival queen;
“Of one or both of us the time is come,”
She cried, then—flitted to eternal home;
Sent there by Blanche who, as rash Nigra flew
To meet her, slily a fell poniard drew,
With her left hand the black queen's sword-arm caught,
While with the right her coal-black heart she sought;
Sought and secur'd; the dagger tapp'd its blood:
Nigra lay rolling in an inky flood.
165
“Go, fiend,” she cried, “but vainly hope for rest;
Where'er thy spirit goes no peace can be,
Thyself the origin of anarchy.”
Then turn'd, exulting, from the royal dead,
And wav'd her shield, triumphant, o'er her head;
Niger then faced and would her dart have thrown,
But dar'd not—“Check!” she cried, “the field's our own;
Blanc reigns triumphant! and his queen”—was gone,
Pierc'd by the jav'lin of a crafty pawn.
The widow'd kings awhile give nature way;
Awhile suspend their anger and the fray,
The royal victims from the field to move:
And ivory tears each bosom's anguish prove.
The mournful chiefs upraise the bleeding pair;
Each to her tent with solemn steps they bear:
There, laid in state, the amazons they leave;
Retire in silence, and retire to grieve.
166
Now Loo and Put survey'd th' ensanguin'd plain;
Two queens despatch'd and many a chess-man slain,
Within their bosoms anxious fears arose;
Such odds depended on the battle's close:
To each more dubious now appear'd the day
Than when at first they betted on the fray.
Their hopes to fortify, their interest aid,
They vow'd to mingle in the fight they made,
In Hazard's spite; when Joan advised the gods
Not to tempt Hazard, 'twere too serious odds;
To angry Hazard up the demons flew,
Whose rattling bones, as near his throne they drew,
Appall'd them—humbly each his suit preferr'd;
Scowling, like quarter-day, stern Hazard heard:
Enrag'd, at once his eyes with anger shone
As shines a dog's when from him snatch'd a bone;
His jaws distended like some dread abyss,
And rage had thunder'd out, but with a kiss
Joan stopp'd his mouth, then fill'd his fav'rite cup;
It held two quarts, but Hazard drank it up.
Coax'd to good humour, silence then he broke;
The fogs all trembled as the demon spoke:
“I see your danger, and I hear your pray'r,
Your case I pity, and your feelings spare;
The die I cast, if sizes be the throw
Hazard consents, for fate 'tis bids you go;
But one condition binds you, abject gods,
Whoever wins to me gives half the odds.”
They heard, consenting; vain dispute had been;
His cheek Joan patted, and then chuck'd his chin;
The trembling box in's harpy hands he took,
The thundering dice tremendously he shook;
An earthquake follow'd: or in France, or Spain,
Or—where I know not, so to tell refrain.
The dice he threw, and sizes was the throw;
“'Tis fate,” he cried, “and Hazard bids you go.”
Two queens despatch'd and many a chess-man slain,
Within their bosoms anxious fears arose;
Such odds depended on the battle's close:
To each more dubious now appear'd the day
Than when at first they betted on the fray.
Their hopes to fortify, their interest aid,
They vow'd to mingle in the fight they made,
In Hazard's spite; when Joan advised the gods
Not to tempt Hazard, 'twere too serious odds;
To angry Hazard up the demons flew,
Whose rattling bones, as near his throne they drew,
Appall'd them—humbly each his suit preferr'd;
Scowling, like quarter-day, stern Hazard heard:
Enrag'd, at once his eyes with anger shone
As shines a dog's when from him snatch'd a bone;
His jaws distended like some dread abyss,
And rage had thunder'd out, but with a kiss
Joan stopp'd his mouth, then fill'd his fav'rite cup;
It held two quarts, but Hazard drank it up.
167
The fogs all trembled as the demon spoke:
“I see your danger, and I hear your pray'r,
Your case I pity, and your feelings spare;
The die I cast, if sizes be the throw
Hazard consents, for fate 'tis bids you go;
But one condition binds you, abject gods,
Whoever wins to me gives half the odds.”
They heard, consenting; vain dispute had been;
His cheek Joan patted, and then chuck'd his chin;
The trembling box in's harpy hands he took,
The thundering dice tremendously he shook;
An earthquake follow'd: or in France, or Spain,
Or—where I know not, so to tell refrain.
The dice he threw, and sizes was the throw;
“'Tis fate,” he cried, “and Hazard bids you go.”
168
CANTO FIFTH.
ARGUMENT.
The truce concluded and the royal sorrow assuaged, the battle recommences—The gods and goddesses interested play games, and use technicalities—The vice of punning in modest request—Rivalship of the she-pawns for the vacant situations of queen—Employment for Echo—Put taunted by Loo, in consequence of Niger's desperate situation—How to pique and repique—Chessic loyalty—Affecting death of a maiden pawn, seduced by Ambition and All-fours—Similes and reflections interspersed—A radical pawn—Flying castles—More loyalty—Black king checked several times—White king checked in his turn—Reflection—The fiftieth round finished—General detail—All the gods, &c. except Loo, Put, and Joan, commanded to leave the field—Tricks of Put and Loo, and the introduction of Pam in person—The battle draws near a conclusion—Checkmate to Niger—Reflections— The Poem concludes in the rookery—Business done there, and the moral.
The truce concluded, and assuaged their grief,
The hope of triumph animates each chief;
Each female pawn the adverse camp survey'd,
While royal hopes inspir'd each beauteous maid;
Put, Loo, and Joan, were ready in the field,
Their foes to check, their friends assistance yield:
Yet Joan the pope care but of one man took,
Crosier, sole owner of the ivory crook;
Him she espied, now soften'd as the south,
Tears in his eyes, his finger in his mouth;
Rous'd him to action: south'ardly he ran
To meet the foe, and boldly face his man.
A pawn his way disputed, nor would cease,
He brain'd the pawn, then bade him rest in peace.
Put saw the act, and gave the sole black steed
A desp'rate goad; resentful of the deed,
It leapt to where the bishop stood, engross'd
By study brown, and lively as a post—
Absent though present—like a casting trump,
The horse, there jumping, made the bishop jump;
His death Put meant; but Joan to save him 'rose,
Chang'd to a furze bush 'neath the horse's nose:
The charger back'd— the bishop's pawn, by Loo
Prompted, went on one square; forbidden two;
One square, 'twas black; his bishop mov'd on white;
And chessic sage tacticians thus indite:
“Let pawns, with good security if done,
On different colours from their bishops run;
Then, when among the pawns gets rook or king,
Bishops for pawns can best redemption bring.”
The sable rook mov'd one square from his line,
Fronting the mitre, murder his design.
Cros'roi retreats; two squares towards Blanc he moves—
His monarch's safety each good bishop loves—
But Put, observing, Niger's right arm took,
And led the king before his own black rook:
Suspecting Crosier of some shrewd design,
Whom Loo two squares brought down the slanted line;
There with two lily pawns he stood, prepar'd
To check the black king when put off his guard.
Whist by them stood, manœuvering to teach,
And said, to help them, she'd a hand for each;
Herself the fourth: their aim she bade them cloak,
And by false movement never to revoke,
But follow suit and to the honours stick,
Trump boldly, and play Niger the odd trick.
Now Speculation mounted up with speed
Behind Sir Reginalde, and spurr'd his steed;
Nor'ward, to th' left, the fiery charger flew;
When the white horse, impell'd by anxious Loo,
Leapt, nearing Niger: Niger trembling saw
His foes around him thick and closer draw.
So unsuspecting Cæsar saw his friends,
Yet, unlike Niger, little guess'd their ends;
But, “Kill'd with kindness” by the friend best lov'd,
With “et tu Brute!” from the world remov'd;
That phrase, a heart had Brutus worn within,
A dagger's point retributive had been.
But one (though pedants may the point dispute)
Once render'd “et tu Brute!” O, you brute!
Put, in a fever, now provok'd the rook
That back'd the trembling Niger not to brook
His king insulted—“Mark the pallid king,”
He said, “one move both face to face will bring;
Put him at once, then.” Rextour at his beck
Mov'd on one side, and loudly halloo'd “Check!”
“Check!” cried the rook, while Niger frown'd disdain,
Though “check” re-echoed o'er the marbled plain.
The Bishop guards his king: the sable knight
Joins, at right angles, with the tower of white.
Whist to a white pawn cried, “your fortune's made,
Move, lurch old Niger,” and the pawn obey'd;
“Check!” said the pawn; th' indignant monarch cried,
“That man's a radical,” and stepp'd aside,
Front of his tower. A white pawn's form Loo took
And edg'd, of death indicative, the rook;
Then chang'd to Pam, an overwhelming evil,
And “Pam” he roar'd; the rook cried “Pam be civil,”
Then to his right once motion'd; when Piquette
(For Loo, his friend, concern'd) saw Niger fret,
Said to th' pale knight, “Check piqu'd the royal black,
Repique him,” and the horseman chang'd his track;
And “Check!” he cried: the worried king back drew;
While Put grew pettish from the taunts of Loo.
Down, upon Rextour's line, now Crosier mov'd,
Crosier, by Joan and three-legg'd Loo beloved;
His aim on Niger fix'd—kings' bishops bring
To th' field strong rancour 'gainst a rival king—
To his own line the black queen's rook return'd,
For Niger's danger from his scouts he learn'd;
Learn'd too, that watching near the camp were screen'd
Two maiden pawns, each longing to be queen'd.
Niger, hemm'd in, had ev'ry thing to dread
Should Blanc obtain a partner for his bed;
Niger a widower, his hope were done,
Such a long odds against him, two to one!
Soon after to his king the castle flew—
Castles have flown if fairy tales be true;
If true be visions of the love-sick fair,
Who often dream of castles in the air.
Blanche-pawn to wed her royal master tried,
And stuck a bodkin into Rextour's side;
The wound not fatal, though the blow was fierce;
His tough bull-hide no trifling awl could pierce;
The sting he felt, and, urged by pain and fear,
Roaring he fled, and thought some hornet near:
So goes a mastiff howling on his way
Stung by a wasp on some hot summer's day.
Gard'reine a check to Niger gave, for dash,
Not upon Coutts, for there he kept no cash:
For Rextour's square, check scorning, Niger made,
Sullen as Ajax stalk'd from Uly's shade.
The milk white amazon erst Crosier's seen,
A queen in thought—and who'd not be a queen?—
Sprang into Niger's lines, all hopes at stake—
“Ye Gods, what havoc does ambition make!”
At first she hesitated; all-fours begg'd
Loiter she'd not, but prove right nimble-legg'd;
Begg'd she'd play high, since great the stake on show:
“High!” cried the maid and leap'd; cried Rextour, “low!”
And then despatch'd her, though at stake his life;
For there, with Gardereine, stood a would-be-wife
For Blanc—he saw the white horse foam and champ;
He saw her watching to invade the camp;
But, as he knew a queen would ruin bring,
His life he gave as tribute to his king:
So one, whose name escapes me, when the foe
Aim'd at his sov'reign a decisive blow,
The monarch's breast with agile effort cross'd,
And sav'd his master, though himself he lost.
Reintoure had sav'd the pawn, but, all engross'd,
His iron duty chain'd him to his post:
To see her bleed he, staggering, scarcely stood—
“Many do faint when they do look on blood.”
On came sir Gardereine, shouting as he came,
“High and low play'd, I'm Jack, and there's the Game.”
Spearing the rook, who, dying, cried “For shame!”
The black knight, rous'd by Put (for fire he'd hung),
Grasshopper like, down Gardereine's limit sprung.
Roiforte, the rook, went close to Blanc's left ear,
And whisper'd what ordain'd were none to hear:
“He never told his love;” o' th' council he;
Such must be mum, and only hear and see;
The black knight, knowing whisp'ring mischief brings,
Nigher his king, like boy at leap-frog, springs.
Roiforte the whisper's import now disclos'd
By action, and came down the field, dispos'd
Lat'rally with sir Regi., him to take,
Or aid white Crosier fatal check to make:
Pale Blanc unguarded stood, not pale with fear;
Regintoure saw, and saw his roadway clear;
Pounc'd upon Blanc, and had him at his beck;
“Check!” bawl'd the rook; the hills resounded “Check!”
The rook defeating, Blanc, with ruffled air,
Mov'd down for safety to a priv'leg'd square:
Blanc, then first check'd, his rival's tremor shows;
But, “hapless he who ne'er misfortune knows.”
Niger in danger, Regintoure returns,
While at the queening pawn his fury burns;
Resolv'd no crown should grace her in the strife;
“Sooner my castle fall,” he cried, “and life.”
Check!” cried sir Gardereine, as he made his bound;
Niger just then was lost in thought profound;
Loo cried, in triumph, “Vict'ry's at his gates;”
And Put look'd daggers, sudden deaths, and fates;
By royal shoulders the slow king he took,
And shoved him down, right-angled with the rook.
Roiforte, protected by white pawn and horse,
Into the sable camp pursued his course;
Meaning by sudden effort to secure
The frowning castle of sir Regintoure—
“O, vain the man whom wealth superfluous glads;
Who field to field, to castle castle adds;
Who more still coveting for that stakes all;
His fields shall wither and his castles fall;
Himself be lost, like chaff dispers'd by wind;
In vain all seek him; none his place shall find!”
E'en now, to Roiforte's grasping fancy, shook
The threaten'd castle of dead Nigra's rook;
Who, from a loop-hole peeping, ey'd his foe,
And bade his men make all secure below;
When hardy Reginalde a bold leap tried,
And came down, thundering, close by Roiforte's side:
Down thundering and rebounding from the place;
He shook pale Roiforte's castle to the base.
Sir Gardereine then, to make the black knight scow'r,
(He, sole protector of the sable tow'r),
Sprang (on black king's fourth chequer to alight)
And left expos'd to Crosier the black knight,
Who sprang in turn; for had the chief not flown
Both horse and rider had been overthrown.
Now rag'd the battle with redoubled force,
Fury and death pursued their wonted course:
Full fifty rounds of hurly burly told,
Let general notices the rest unfold.
All hurry-skurry was th' ensanguin'd plain,
And oft the slayer toppled o'er the slain.
The knights both wounded, Put the black conceal'd,
Wrapt in a cloud, and whirl'd him from the field;
Mounted his charger, through the battle brawl'd,
With port and panoply like Reginald;
Loo saw the trick, abducted the white knight,
And back'd his charger by an armed sprite,
With Put who combated; both desp'rate, for
“When Greek meets Greek then comes the tug of war.”
Put met a lion when he sought a lamb;
Wonder'd, but knew not that he fought with Pam.
Now down look'd Hazard from the rookery's height,
To mark the various changes of the fight;
Despatched by Joan a message to the gods
To leave the field, save those who bet the odds;
But gave permission to th' intriguing fair
To make her own dear Crozy still her care.
He saw Blanche-pawn—a crown her bold design—
Caught her, unseen, and rais'd her o'er the line:
Her daring soul his admiration drew;
Her game was Hazard, Hazard help'd her through—
She stood a queen! Put aim'd to strike her dead,
Hazard the dice-box thunder'd o'er his head:
Put was confounded: for a trivial space
Each on the plain was fixture to his place.
Loo crown'd the royal maid with hand unseen,
The whites paid homage, and proclaim'd her queen!
No queen could Niger hope, for each black pawn,
Female or male, lay dead upon the lawn;
And of all Blanc's not one remain'd but she
Who claim'd by right the crown of sov'reignty.
Grateful to Blanc, determin'd to support
His fame as highly as she grac'd his court,
Niger she soon attack'd: he'd helpmates none,
Save Put and Regintoure, the rest were gone.
Blanc boasted only Roifort and the Priest,
With Pam (thought Gardereine) and, though last not least,
His new made queen; but these were quite an host
To Niger's force: he driv'n from post to post,
Check, like a pass-word, prophesied his wreck,
Whate'er was said 'twas echoed still by “Check!”
Vain all his hopes, though Put like fury fought,
But 'twas with Pam, who still the demon sought;
While Put was thunderstruck, vain all his puts;
'Twas Pam, and diamond always di'mond cuts.
The ground, like baited bull, now Niger spurn'd;
This way and that way, ev'ry way he turn'd,
Turning in vain, his loss beyond recall,
And, like a spinning top, but turn'd to fall.
The queen and Pam his agonies increase,
Nor would the bishop let him rest in peace;
Put at the bishop flew, Joan check'd his course,
Snatch'd Crozier's crook and quick, to Put's remorse,
Hook'd him behind and pull'd him from his horse.
“Check! check!” so scandal duns misfortune's ears,
New barbs her pangs, and doubles all her fears.
'Twas fate—when Hazard weigh'd the fight's extreme,
Niger's black type flew up and kick'd the beam:
On Put he lean'd, who wonder'd at the scrape,
Himself assisting in a chess knight's shape;
Threw up his vizor: Pam threw his up too,
And, archly nodding, cried “Put, how d'ye do?
You're loo'd, my boy.” Put, sullen, sneak'd away.
Niger, his sword to give and homage pay
To Blanc, mov'd on as moves a fresh caught bear,
Muzzled and chain'd, but longing all to tear;
Vex'd to the heart he'd listen'd to his wife;
He'd lost his kingdom, and she lost her life.
But keenly all are by repentance stung
Who act from counsel of a rancorous tongue.
White conquer'd black: not vice but virtues bless;
And many a moral crowns the Game of Chess.
Now to the rookery all the gods made way;
Put paid the odds, for Hazard made him pay:
Half Hazard took, with loud sepulchral laugh,
Threw dice with Loo and won the other half.
The hope of triumph animates each chief;
169
While royal hopes inspir'd each beauteous maid;
Put, Loo, and Joan, were ready in the field,
Their foes to check, their friends assistance yield:
Yet Joan the pope care but of one man took,
Crosier, sole owner of the ivory crook;
Him she espied, now soften'd as the south,
Tears in his eyes, his finger in his mouth;
Rous'd him to action: south'ardly he ran
To meet the foe, and boldly face his man.
A pawn his way disputed, nor would cease,
He brain'd the pawn, then bade him rest in peace.
Put saw the act, and gave the sole black steed
A desp'rate goad; resentful of the deed,
It leapt to where the bishop stood, engross'd
By study brown, and lively as a post—
170
The horse, there jumping, made the bishop jump;
His death Put meant; but Joan to save him 'rose,
Chang'd to a furze bush 'neath the horse's nose:
The charger back'd— the bishop's pawn, by Loo
Prompted, went on one square; forbidden two;
One square, 'twas black; his bishop mov'd on white;
And chessic sage tacticians thus indite:
“Let pawns, with good security if done,
On different colours from their bishops run;
Then, when among the pawns gets rook or king,
Bishops for pawns can best redemption bring.”
The sable rook mov'd one square from his line,
Fronting the mitre, murder his design.
Cros'roi retreats; two squares towards Blanc he moves—
His monarch's safety each good bishop loves—
171
And led the king before his own black rook:
Suspecting Crosier of some shrewd design,
Whom Loo two squares brought down the slanted line;
There with two lily pawns he stood, prepar'd
To check the black king when put off his guard.
Whist by them stood, manœuvering to teach,
And said, to help them, she'd a hand for each;
Herself the fourth: their aim she bade them cloak,
And by false movement never to revoke,
But follow suit and to the honours stick,
Trump boldly, and play Niger the odd trick.
Now Speculation mounted up with speed
Behind Sir Reginalde, and spurr'd his steed;
Nor'ward, to th' left, the fiery charger flew;
172
Leapt, nearing Niger: Niger trembling saw
His foes around him thick and closer draw.
So unsuspecting Cæsar saw his friends,
Yet, unlike Niger, little guess'd their ends;
But, “Kill'd with kindness” by the friend best lov'd,
With “et tu Brute!” from the world remov'd;
That phrase, a heart had Brutus worn within,
A dagger's point retributive had been.
But one (though pedants may the point dispute)
Once render'd “et tu Brute!” O, you brute!
Put, in a fever, now provok'd the rook
That back'd the trembling Niger not to brook
His king insulted—“Mark the pallid king,”
He said, “one move both face to face will bring;
Put him at once, then.” Rextour at his beck
Mov'd on one side, and loudly halloo'd “Check!”
173
Though “check” re-echoed o'er the marbled plain.
The Bishop guards his king: the sable knight
Joins, at right angles, with the tower of white.
Whist to a white pawn cried, “your fortune's made,
Move, lurch old Niger,” and the pawn obey'd;
“Check!” said the pawn; th' indignant monarch cried,
“That man's a radical,” and stepp'd aside,
Front of his tower. A white pawn's form Loo took
And edg'd, of death indicative, the rook;
174
And “Pam” he roar'd; the rook cried “Pam be civil,”
Then to his right once motion'd; when Piquette
(For Loo, his friend, concern'd) saw Niger fret,
Said to th' pale knight, “Check piqu'd the royal black,
Repique him,” and the horseman chang'd his track;
And “Check!” he cried: the worried king back drew;
While Put grew pettish from the taunts of Loo.
Down, upon Rextour's line, now Crosier mov'd,
Crosier, by Joan and three-legg'd Loo beloved;
His aim on Niger fix'd—kings' bishops bring
To th' field strong rancour 'gainst a rival king—
To his own line the black queen's rook return'd,
For Niger's danger from his scouts he learn'd;
175
Two maiden pawns, each longing to be queen'd.
Niger, hemm'd in, had ev'ry thing to dread
Should Blanc obtain a partner for his bed;
Niger a widower, his hope were done,
Such a long odds against him, two to one!
Soon after to his king the castle flew—
Castles have flown if fairy tales be true;
If true be visions of the love-sick fair,
Who often dream of castles in the air.
Blanche-pawn to wed her royal master tried,
And stuck a bodkin into Rextour's side;
The wound not fatal, though the blow was fierce;
His tough bull-hide no trifling awl could pierce;
The sting he felt, and, urged by pain and fear,
Roaring he fled, and thought some hornet near:
176
Stung by a wasp on some hot summer's day.
Gard'reine a check to Niger gave, for dash,
Not upon Coutts, for there he kept no cash:
For Rextour's square, check scorning, Niger made,
Sullen as Ajax stalk'd from Uly's shade.
The milk white amazon erst Crosier's seen,
A queen in thought—and who'd not be a queen?—
Sprang into Niger's lines, all hopes at stake—
“Ye Gods, what havoc does ambition make!”
At first she hesitated; all-fours begg'd
Loiter she'd not, but prove right nimble-legg'd;
Begg'd she'd play high, since great the stake on show:
“High!” cried the maid and leap'd; cried Rextour, “low!”
177
For there, with Gardereine, stood a would-be-wife
For Blanc—he saw the white horse foam and champ;
He saw her watching to invade the camp;
But, as he knew a queen would ruin bring,
His life he gave as tribute to his king:
So one, whose name escapes me, when the foe
Aim'd at his sov'reign a decisive blow,
The monarch's breast with agile effort cross'd,
And sav'd his master, though himself he lost.
Reintoure had sav'd the pawn, but, all engross'd,
His iron duty chain'd him to his post:
To see her bleed he, staggering, scarcely stood—
“Many do faint when they do look on blood.”
On came sir Gardereine, shouting as he came,
“High and low play'd, I'm Jack, and there's the Game.”
178
The black knight, rous'd by Put (for fire he'd hung),
Grasshopper like, down Gardereine's limit sprung.
Roiforte, the rook, went close to Blanc's left ear,
And whisper'd what ordain'd were none to hear:
“He never told his love;” o' th' council he;
Such must be mum, and only hear and see;
The black knight, knowing whisp'ring mischief brings,
Nigher his king, like boy at leap-frog, springs.
Roiforte the whisper's import now disclos'd
By action, and came down the field, dispos'd
Lat'rally with sir Regi., him to take,
Or aid white Crosier fatal check to make:
Pale Blanc unguarded stood, not pale with fear;
Regintoure saw, and saw his roadway clear;
179
“Check!” bawl'd the rook; the hills resounded “Check!”
The rook defeating, Blanc, with ruffled air,
Mov'd down for safety to a priv'leg'd square:
Blanc, then first check'd, his rival's tremor shows;
But, “hapless he who ne'er misfortune knows.”
Niger in danger, Regintoure returns,
While at the queening pawn his fury burns;
Resolv'd no crown should grace her in the strife;
“Sooner my castle fall,” he cried, “and life.”
Check!” cried sir Gardereine, as he made his bound;
Niger just then was lost in thought profound;
Loo cried, in triumph, “Vict'ry's at his gates;”
And Put look'd daggers, sudden deaths, and fates;
180
And shoved him down, right-angled with the rook.
Roiforte, protected by white pawn and horse,
Into the sable camp pursued his course;
Meaning by sudden effort to secure
The frowning castle of sir Regintoure—
“O, vain the man whom wealth superfluous glads;
Who field to field, to castle castle adds;
Who more still coveting for that stakes all;
His fields shall wither and his castles fall;
Himself be lost, like chaff dispers'd by wind;
In vain all seek him; none his place shall find!”
E'en now, to Roiforte's grasping fancy, shook
The threaten'd castle of dead Nigra's rook;
Who, from a loop-hole peeping, ey'd his foe,
And bade his men make all secure below;
When hardy Reginalde a bold leap tried,
And came down, thundering, close by Roiforte's side:
181
He shook pale Roiforte's castle to the base.
Sir Gardereine then, to make the black knight scow'r,
(He, sole protector of the sable tow'r),
Sprang (on black king's fourth chequer to alight)
And left expos'd to Crosier the black knight,
Who sprang in turn; for had the chief not flown
Both horse and rider had been overthrown.
Now rag'd the battle with redoubled force,
Fury and death pursued their wonted course:
Full fifty rounds of hurly burly told,
Let general notices the rest unfold.
All hurry-skurry was th' ensanguin'd plain,
And oft the slayer toppled o'er the slain.
The knights both wounded, Put the black conceal'd,
Wrapt in a cloud, and whirl'd him from the field;
182
With port and panoply like Reginald;
Loo saw the trick, abducted the white knight,
And back'd his charger by an armed sprite,
With Put who combated; both desp'rate, for
“When Greek meets Greek then comes the tug of war.”
Put met a lion when he sought a lamb;
Wonder'd, but knew not that he fought with Pam.
Now down look'd Hazard from the rookery's height,
To mark the various changes of the fight;
Despatched by Joan a message to the gods
To leave the field, save those who bet the odds;
But gave permission to th' intriguing fair
To make her own dear Crozy still her care.
He saw Blanche-pawn—a crown her bold design—
Caught her, unseen, and rais'd her o'er the line:
Her daring soul his admiration drew;
Her game was Hazard, Hazard help'd her through—
She stood a queen! Put aim'd to strike her dead,
Hazard the dice-box thunder'd o'er his head:
183
Each on the plain was fixture to his place.
Loo crown'd the royal maid with hand unseen,
The whites paid homage, and proclaim'd her queen!
No queen could Niger hope, for each black pawn,
Female or male, lay dead upon the lawn;
And of all Blanc's not one remain'd but she
Who claim'd by right the crown of sov'reignty.
Grateful to Blanc, determin'd to support
His fame as highly as she grac'd his court,
Niger she soon attack'd: he'd helpmates none,
Save Put and Regintoure, the rest were gone.
Blanc boasted only Roifort and the Priest,
With Pam (thought Gardereine) and, though last not least,
His new made queen; but these were quite an host
To Niger's force: he driv'n from post to post,
Check, like a pass-word, prophesied his wreck,
Whate'er was said 'twas echoed still by “Check!”
Vain all his hopes, though Put like fury fought,
But 'twas with Pam, who still the demon sought;
184
'Twas Pam, and diamond always di'mond cuts.
The ground, like baited bull, now Niger spurn'd;
This way and that way, ev'ry way he turn'd,
Turning in vain, his loss beyond recall,
And, like a spinning top, but turn'd to fall.
The queen and Pam his agonies increase,
Nor would the bishop let him rest in peace;
Put at the bishop flew, Joan check'd his course,
Snatch'd Crozier's crook and quick, to Put's remorse,
Hook'd him behind and pull'd him from his horse.
“Check! check!” so scandal duns misfortune's ears,
New barbs her pangs, and doubles all her fears.
'Twas fate—when Hazard weigh'd the fight's extreme,
Niger's black type flew up and kick'd the beam:
On Put he lean'd, who wonder'd at the scrape,
Himself assisting in a chess knight's shape;
Threw up his vizor: Pam threw his up too,
And, archly nodding, cried “Put, how d'ye do?
You're loo'd, my boy.” Put, sullen, sneak'd away.
Niger, his sword to give and homage pay
185
Muzzled and chain'd, but longing all to tear;
Vex'd to the heart he'd listen'd to his wife;
He'd lost his kingdom, and she lost her life.
But keenly all are by repentance stung
Who act from counsel of a rancorous tongue.
White conquer'd black: not vice but virtues bless;
And many a moral crowns the Game of Chess.
Now to the rookery all the gods made way;
Put paid the odds, for Hazard made him pay:
Half Hazard took, with loud sepulchral laugh,
Threw dice with Loo and won the other half.
In spite of proverbs, rogues each other cheat;
The bread of honesty alone is sweet:
From bad associates nought but ill proceeds;
And flowers best flourish when most clear'd of weeds.
The bread of honesty alone is sweet:
From bad associates nought but ill proceeds;
And flowers best flourish when most clear'd of weeds.
| Comic Tales and Lyrical Fancies | |