 | Zóphiël ; or, the bride of seven |  |
CANTO FOURTH. THE STORM.
ARGUMENT.
The gloom that precedes a tempest near Carthage.—Zóphiël and Phraërion returning from the palace of Gnomes.—Zóphiël loses the piece of spar which contains his invaluable elixir, and narrowly escapes being sucked down by a whirlpool.—Zóphiël and Phraërion emerge from the sea, and rest a moment in the deserts nearest Carthage: they attempt to pursue their course toward Media.—The storm increases.—Zóphiël meets a spirit who detains and reproaches him.—Phraërion seeks shelter. —Zóphiël and Phraërion return to Media.
I.
From brother's murderous hand low vapors brood,
But all is hushed; and reigns a calm as dread
As that fell Roman's, who, like wolf pursued,
Of ruined Carthage, his fierce eye at rest;
While, hungry, cold, and spent, he mocked at fate,
And fed on the revenge deep smouldering in his breast.
Caius Marius, musing over the ruins of Carthage, has been made the subject of a very good picture; and the author of that not very old Italian work entitled “Notti Romane” has entered with great effect into those feelings which the successor of Sylla probably acted under. If the characters of those who commit crimes could be analyzed, it would be found, perhaps invariably, that such persons are either too stupid to be sensible of what they do, or under some illusion of feeling or imagination which entirely conceals from them its atrocity.
“Nodrito dalla sola vendetta m' inoltrai sulla spiaggia peregrinando verso Minturno: ivi mi abbattei immantininte ne' guerrieri Sillani miei indefessi persecutori. Mi gettai fra le onde a nuoto, e mi rivolei a due navi, non remote, per ricoverarmi in esse. Le gravi, provette, vaste, oppresse, mie membra faceano a stento quell' offizio, cosi che il sommergermi era imminente, lo udiva, intanto que' sicarj dal lido far voti crudeli a Nettuno, ed a Nereo perche mi traessero negli abbissi loro, et invocare i mostri voraci del mare; e schernire con ribalde parole quella mia trista ansietà.
“A me sospinto da continue sciagure, scacciato da ogni lido, era omai divenuto ogni terra inospitale, ogni mare tempestoso; e stetti muto contemplando la ruine della spenta Cartagine, come specchio della fortuna.”—
Notti Romane.Marius, soon after the scene depicted in this extract, returned to Rome, and (as he is made to express it in the same work) purged the city of its horrid ingratitude.
II.
But now that city's turrets frown on high;And from her distant streets is heard the shriek
Of frenzied mothers, uttered as they fly
From where with children's blood their guilty altars reek.
The Carthaginians retained the custom of offering human sacrifices to their gods till the destruction of their city. When Gelon of Syracuse gained a victory over them in Sicily, one of the articles of stipulation was that no more human lives should be sacrificed to Saturn. “For,” says Rollin, “during the whole engagement, which lasted from morn till night, Hamilcar, the son of Hanno, was continually offering to the gods sacrifices of living men, who were thrown on a flaming pile.” Seeing his troops put to flight, Hamilcar threw himself upon the same pile, and received, after his death, divine honors. Mothers (according to Plutarch and Tertullian) threw their children into the sacrificial flames, and the least indication of pity or sorrow would have been punished in them as impious.
According to the belief of the fathers, it must have been the princely instigator of the rebellion in heaven who caused himself to be adored as the god Belus or Saturn, whose altars were continually glowing with the blood and flames of human sacrifices. Those angels who fell from the thirst of power must have been the authors of all cruelty. The seraphic offenders were only voluptuous. The angel presiding over licentious love is sometimes forcibly alluded to in “Les Martyrs” of M. de Châteaubriand.
III.
The very silence has a shriek of fear;
In the suspense and stillness which precede a storm on or near the ocean, or any other vast extent of water, there is an effect produced on the feelings of some persons as if a shriek were really uttered in the distance. This effect was probably attributed, by such of the ancients as observed it, to their sea-gods or nymphs. Christian fathers or Jewish rabbins must have supposed it to proceed from those angels, who, according to the books of the latter, preside over the elements.
And sounds like laughter ring, yet leave the ear
Or if 'twas but affrighted fancy spoke:
Past that suspense, and, lesser pain to feel,
As giant rends his chains, the bursting tempest woke.
IV.
Alas for the poor pilot at his prow,Far from the haven! Will his Neptune save?
The Muse no longer hears his frantic vow,
But follows her fair Sprites still deep beneath the wave.
V.
Refused its beam. Zóphiël, with toil severe,
But bliss in view, through the thrice murky night
Sped swiftly on. A treasure now more dear
To breathe for years: but rougher grew the way;
And soft Phraërion, shrinking back, and scared
At every whirling depth, wept for his flowers and day,
Wildly impel them 'gainst the jutting rocks:
Not all the care and strength of Zóphiël saves
His tender guide from half the wildering shocks
And bade them look upon their task as o'er,
Was past; and now the inmost earth seemed rent
With such fierce storms as never raged before.
VI.
Of a long mortal life had the whole pain,Essenced in one consummate pang, been borne,
Known, and survived, it still would be in vain
To try to paint the pains felt by these Sprites forlorn.
VII.
The Power that made, intending them for bliss,And gave their thrilling organs but to bless,
Had they been formed for such a world as this,
Had kindly dulled their powers, and made their tortures less.
VIII.
The precious drop, closed in its hollow spar,Between his lips Zóphiël in triumph bore.
Now earth and sea seem shaken! Dashed afar,
He feels it part; 'tis dropped; the waters roar.
IX.
He sees it in a sable vortex whirlingFormed by a cavern vast, that, 'neath the sea,
Sucks the fierce torrent in; and, madly furling
His wings, would plunge: one moment more, and he,
Sucked down, in earth's dark womb must wait eternity.
X.
“Pursue no farther!—stop, alas! for me,If not thyself!” Phraërion's shrieks accost
Him thus: “Who, Zóphiël, shall protect for thee
The maid thou lov'st? Hear! stop! or all are lost!”
XI.
The verge, the verge, is near. Must such a state,Seraph, be thine? No! sank the spar within;
But the shrill warning reached him through the din
Of waves. Back, back, he struggles, ere too late;
And the whole horror of the avoided fate
Shot through his soul. The wages of his sin
He felt, for once, were light, and clasped his shrieking mate;
XII.
Who thus entreats: “Up! to earth's pleasant fields!O Zóphiël, all this torture's for thy pleasure!”
Twined in his arms, the baffled Seraph yields,
And flies the hungry depth that gorged his dearest treasure.
XIII.
What added torment—gained; then snatched away,—Pressed to his heart,—and then to feel it riven
From heart and hand, while bearing it to-day
With joy complete as if recalled to heaven!
XIV.
Yet still (to urge a dangerous course contending,
And the fierce passions which his bosom crost,
For pity, or some other hope, suspending),
His gentle fere, with plaints no longer vain,
Clung closer to his neck, nor ceased to pray
To be restored to sun and flowers again.
XV.
Thus, all intwined, they rose again to air,Near Lybia's coast. Black clouds, in mass deform,
Were frowning; yet a moment's calm was there,
As if had stopped to breathe a while the storm.
XVI.
From their bright locks the briny drops: nor staid
Zóphiël on ills, present or past, to look;
For, weary as he was, his lonely maid
Unguarded she, what being might molest
Even now? His chilled and wounded substance warms
But at the thought, the while he thus addrest
According to the Hebraic writings, nothing animate or inanimate exists throughout all nature without a particular angel to protect and take care of it.
“Archangelos et angelos, quibus cura committitur Regnorum, provinciarum, Nationum, principum, et particularium personarum; quæritur igitur, num etiam animalia bruta, et res insensibiles, id est lapides, et elementa atque etiam vegetabilia habeant proprios Angelos ad sui custodiam destinatos?”—
Bibliotheca Magna Rabbinica: Bartoloccii.This, whether true or false, is much more delightful than the belief or knowledge that every thing depends on material laws. The Greeks had a nymph for every tree; and their religion was a mere alteration of those of the more Oriental and ancient nations. The idea of the Elysian Fields was, it has been supposed, conceived by Orpheus after a glance at the vast subterranean abodes of the priests of Egypt, who, as is usual, converted those sublime truths conveyed to them, according to the faith of the fathers, by erring but celestial intelligences, to purposes of the grossest fraud and cruelty.
All is but desolation here, and gloom.
Up! let us through the air, nor more delay.
Nay, droop not now: a little more essay,
I'll bear thee forward to thy bower of bloom,
Come through the desert! banquet on thy store
Of dews and sweets! Come, warm thee at my breast!
On! through the air, nor think of danger more.
XVII.
“As grateful for the service thou hast doneI live, though lost the object of our task,
As if were still possessed the treasure won;
And all thou wouldst of Zóphiël freely ask.
XVIII.
“The Gnome, the secret path, the draught divine,I know. Tahathyam sighs beneath the wave
For mortal bride: valor and skill are mine:
He may again bestow what once he gave.”
XIX.
Thus Zóphiël, renovated, though the airWas thick and dull, with just enough of hope
To save him from the stupor of despair,
Too much disdained the pains he felt to droop.
XX.
To buffet not a tempest was in plight;
And Egla's lover saw him shrink, recoil,
And beg some nearer shelter for the night:
For now the tempest bursting in its might,
In cave or tomb. But Zóphiël gently caught him,
Sustained him firmly at his fearless breast,
And 'twixt Euphrates and the Tigris brought him;
XXI.
Until the thunder-clouds around him burst;
His flights renewed, and wished for Media near.
But stronger grows the gale: what Sprites accurst
Might not alone such ardent course impede:
The wretched Spirit from his speed relents
With sense like mortal bosom when they bleed.
XXII.
Flew leaves and stones, and with a deafening crash
Fell the uprooted trees: heaven seemed on fire,—
Not, as 'tis wont, with intermitting flash,
This is but a simple description of the appearance of the sky for several minutes during a storm which happened on the island where the verses of the text were written, either in the year 1823 or 1824. I lay under a transparent mosquito-net, listening to the pleasing noise made by the trees and shrubs around the principal dwelling of the Cafétal San Patricio, and watching the flashes of lightning that darted through the green blinds of an unglazed win dow. It was about midnight when the loudness of the thunderpeals increased, and the flashes became more continued than any I had ever seen. A crash was soon heard from without, and the whole room seemed deluged, as it were, with flame.
Thinking the building on fire, I arose, and succeeded in waking a negress, who still slept soundly by the door of my apartment. Going into the hall, and getting a window opened which looked into a broad piazza, I was surprised to see it occupied by those fierce dogs which were accustomed to be let loose at ten or eleven o'clock at night, in order that they might prowl about till sunrise, and guard the plantation. They had sought shelter from the elements: and, as they ran in a distressed manner from one side of the piazza to the other, it seemed as if they moved in fire; for the whole firmament continued to be, at long intervals, like a vast sea of light. Some glazed windows on the slant roof of the building were torn from their hinges, and whirled over the secaderos; and the rain then descended in cataracts.
The sun rose brightly next morning; and the scene, though rather sad, was delightful. The Bermuda grass-plats were strewn with leaves, twigs, and broken flowers: and numbers of those black birds which the Spanish inhabitants of the island call judeos were hovering over a dark clump of bamboos which had been torn up by the roots, and uttering the most piteous cries; for many of them were unable to find again their nests, constructed amidst the almost impervious foliage of those vast and beautiful reeds which now lay prostrate.
The palm thatching was torn from some of the out-houses of San Patricio. One mansion on a neighboring estate, belonging to Don José Martinez, was taken by the tempest from an insecure foundation, and set in another place. One estate, several leagues distant, and near a river, was deluged. But no human lives, that I heard of, were lost.
The whole broad arch gave one continuous glare;
While through the red light from their prowlings came
The frighted beasts, and ran, but could not find a lair.
Secaderos are made of plaster, in the manner of broad platforms, rising a little, however, in the centre, and formed with many divisions and conduits for the rain, which is retained in cisterns beneath them. On these the red and sweet-smelling coffee-berries are dried.
XXIII.
“Rest, Zóphiël, rest!” Phraërion cries. “The surgeWas lesser pain: I cannot bear it more.
Beaten in seas so long, we but emerge
To meet a fiercer conflict on the shore!”
XXIV.
Then Zóphiël: “There's a little grot on high;The wild doves nestle there; it is secure:
To Ecbatane but for an hour I'll fly,
And come for thee at morn: no more endure.
XXV.
“Nay, wilt not leave me? Then I'll bear thee throughAs lately through the whirling floods I bore.”
Still closer clinging, to his bosom grew
The tender Sprite: “Then bear; I can no more,”
XXVI.
He said, and came a shock as if the earthCrashed 'gainst some other planet: shivered brands
Whirl round their heads; and (shame upon their birth!)
Both Sprites lay mazed and prostrate on the sands.
XXVII.
The delicate Phraërion sought a caveLow-browed, and, crouching down 'mid trailing snakes
And slimy worms (things that would hide to save
Their loathsome lives), hearkens the roar, and quakes.
XXVIII.
Too fierce for fear, uprose; yet, ere for flight
Served his torn wings, a form before him stood,
In gloomy majesty. Like starless night
From its stupendous breast;
That many of the angels were of a larger stature than that of men appears to have been believed by the Oriental nations. Asrael, or Azaraël, who assisted in forming the first man, was, according to Rabadan the Morisco, noticed particularly by the Creator on account of his uncommon stature.
Herodotus relates that Xerxes, while yet undecided upon carrying the war into Greece, was warmly dissuaded from his design by his brother Artabanes. Falling asleep soon after, he saw in a dream a man of uncommon stature and beauty, who urged him on to the undertaking. This, Calmet supposes, must have been some angel or spirit who sought his destruction.
It is said of Apollonius Tyaneus, that, coming to the tomb of Achilles, he raised his manes, and begged that the figure of the hero might appear to him: whereupon a phantom appeared like a young man, seven feet and a half high, which soon increased to twelve cubits, and assumed an extraordinary beauty. The whole, however, proved to be the work of a demon which Apollonius had power over. This incident is introduced by Byron in “The Deformed Transformed.”
The pale and lurid light at distance rolled
Before its princely feet receding on the sod.
XXIX.
'Twas still as death, save that the thunder spokeIn mutterings low and far: a look severe
Seemed as preluding speech; but Zóphiël broke
The silence first: “Why, Spirit, art thou here?”
XXX.
It waved its hand, and instantaneous cameA hissing bolt with new impetus back:
Darts round a group of verdant palms the flame,
That, being pointed to them, blasted black.
XXXI.
(The mortal-lover said) “thine answer there
I need not read: too well I know thy power
In all I've felt and feel. But has despair
Declare me that, nor spend thine arts in vain
To torture more: if, like a miscreant, now
I bend to thee, 'tis not for dread of pain;
Their strife. Oh! spare me this resistance rude
But for an hour; let me but on in peace;
So shall I taste the joy of gratitude,
Replied that sombre being: “dream'st thou still
Of joy?—a thing accursed, demeaned, forlorn,
As thou art? Is't for joy thou mock'st my will?
“I can, betrayer! dost thou envy me?
But leave me to my wrongs, and I can taste
Even yet of heaven, spite of my fall and thee.
XXXII.
But for an hour; leave me to go at will
Whate'er thou wilt. What! dost obstruct me still?
Then I must meet, and, weary thus and torn,
Essay the force of an immortal arm,
Lone as I am, until another morn
There, on the steam of human heart-blood, spilt
By priest or murderer, make repast;
Those evil spirits or angels who caused themselves to be adored as deities, were said to subsist (according to M. de Fontenelle, who gives authority for all that he asserts, “Leurs corps aëriens se nourissent de fumigations de sang répandu et de la graisse de sacrifices.”—Histoire des Oracles) on the smoke of sacrifices. One is almost induced to believe, with the earlier Christians, that demons really inhabited those temples where so much human blood was spilled. It is far more shocking to suppose that so horrid an expedient could have been invented by one's fellow-mortals for the purposes of deception or interest.
Over the vile creations of thy guilt.
It is not impossible that some of the angels who assisted at the creation (as is believed by all very ancient nations) might, after the fall, have amused themselves with making those noisome and disgusting reptiles and animalcula which can but startle one's belief in the beneficence of the Being who formed them.
XXXIII.
“Waste thy life-giving power on reptiles foul,Life, it is supposed, may exist without the slightest mixture of soul, as is the case with many marine animals. Some chemists, in the enthusiasm of their successes, have imagined that even human life was kept up by a mechanical process carried on in the lungs. This, granting it for a moment to be true, does not in the least detract from the power or bounty of the great Creator and Fountain of soul; for of what value is any animated form unless ennobled by a breath or emanation from him?
After receiving it as a truth, that such beings as good and evil angels exist, one may reasonably suppose them in possession of many arts and much science, which men, from the shortness of their lives, have been unable to attain.
Slow, slimy worms, and poisonous snakes; then watch,
Like the poor brutes that here for hunger prowl,
To mar the beauty that thou canst not match!”
XXXIV.
Thus he: the other folded o'er its breastIts arms, and stood as cold and firm the while
As if no passion stirred, save that expressed
Its pale, pale lip a faint, ferocious smile.
XXXV.
While, blent with winds, ten thousand agents wageThe strife anew;
Many passages in the writings of both Jews and Christians occur to justify this. It must, however, have been some inferior angel, who, according to the continually quoted belief of the fathers, was worshipped as the god Æolus. The “prince of the powers of the air” himself must have been sufficiently employed in feasting on the exhalations of the blood of his numerous sacrifices. The god Mars, to preserve the same system entire, must have been also one of his subordinates. The field of battle, therefore, together with the hearts that quivered on altars both in the Old and New World, must have made his banquets long and frequent.
But foiled, gave up to unavailing rage,
And strove and toiled and strove, but could not mount on high.
XXXVI.
Then thus the torturer: “Hie thee to the bedOf her thou lov'st; pursue thy dear design;
Go dew the golden ringlets of her head!
Thou wait'st not, sure, for any power of mine.
XXXVII.
“Yet better were the duties, Spirit dull,Of thine allegiance! Win her o'er to me,
Take all thou canst,—a pleasure brief but full,
Vain dreamer, if not mine, she's lost to thee!”
XXXVIII.
“Wilt thou, then, hurt her? Why am I detained?O strength once serving 'gainst the powers above!
Where art thou now?” Thus Zóphiël; and he strained
His wounded wings to mount, but could not move.
XXXIX.
Then thus the scorner: “Nay, be calm! I'll stillThe storn for thee: hear! it recedes; 'tis ended.
Yet, if thou dream'st success awaits thee, ill
Dost thou conceive of boundless power offended.
XL.
“Zóphiël, bland Sprite, sublime Intelligence,Once chosen for my friend, and worthy me,
Not so wouldst thou have labored to be hence
Had my emprise been crowned with victory.
XLI.
“When I was bright in heaven, thy seraph eyesSought only mine. But he who every power
Beside, while hope allured him, could despise,
Changed and forsook me in misfortune's hour.”
XLII.
“Changed and forsook thee? This from thee to me,Once noble Spirit! Oh! had not too much
My o'er-fond heart adored thy fallacy,
I had not now been here to bear thy keen reproach,”
XLIII.
Zóphiël replied. “Fallen, wretched, and debased,E'en to thy scornful words' extent, my doom
Too well I know, and for what cause displaced;
But not from thee should the remembrance come!
XLIV.
“Forsook thee in misfortune? At thy sideI closer fought as peril thickened round;
Watched o'er thee fallen: the light of heaven denied
But proved my love more fervent and profound.
XLV.
“Prone as thou wert, had I been mortal-born,And owned as many lives as leaves there be,
From all Hyrcania by his tempest torn,
I had lost them, one by one, and given the last for thee.
XLVI.
“Pain had a joy; for suffering could but wringLove from my soul, to gild the murky air
Of our first rude retreat; while I, fond thing!
Still thought thee true, and smiled upon despair.
XLVII.
“Oh! had thy plighted pact of faith been kept,Still unaccomplished were the curse of sin:
'Mid all the woes thy ruined followers wept,
Had friendship lingered, hell could not have been.
XLVIII.
Came the proposal, when thy purpose burst
Forth from thy heart's black den disclosed and bare,
Then first I felt alone, and knew myself accurst.
The ways of guile?
The angels are supposed to have been created at different periods: they were endowed with different capacities, and had different employments assigned to them.
“Cùm enim soli Angeli supremæ hierarchiæ immediaté illuminentur à Deo, illi soli dicuntur assistere Deo; cæteri aliarum hierarchiarum, ministrantes Angeli nominantur. Itaque tam illi, quam isti sunt fere infiniti.”—
Bibliotheca Magna Hebraica: Bartoloccii.When cold ambition mimicked love so well,
That half the sons of heaven looked on, deceived!
XLIX.
“Ambition thine; to me the Eternal gaveSo much of love, his kind design was crost:
Held to thy heart, I thought thee good as brave,
Nor realized my guilt till all was lost.
L.
“Now, writhing at my utmost need, how vainAre Zóphiël's tears and prayers! Alas! heaven-born,
Of all heaven's virtues doth not one remain?
Pity me once, and let me now be gone!”
LI.
“Go!” said the cold detainer with a smileThat heightened cruelty; “yet know from me
Thy foolish hopes but lure thee on a while
To wake thy sense to keener misery.”
LII.
“O skilled in torment! spare me, spare me now!”Chilled by a dread foreboding, Zóphiël said;
“But little time doth waning night allow.”
He knelt; he wept: calm grew the winds; he fled.
LIII.
The clouds disperse. His heavenly voice he sentIn whispers through the caves: Phraërion, there
In covert loathed, to that low music lent
His soft, quick ear, and sprang to join his fere.
LIV.
Soon through the desert, on their airy way,Mantled in dewy mists, the Spirits prest,
And reached fair Media ere the twilight gray
Recalled the rose's lover to his nest.
LV.
Still lingers round, two early mortals greet
The first faint gleam with prayer, and bathed and dight
As travellers came forth. The morn rose sweet,
In tinted vapors while the pale star sets:
The younger asked, “Whence are these odors cast
The breeze has waked from beds of violets?”
| Zóphiël ; or, the bride of seven | |