CAUGHT IN THE NETS.
a.d. 1180. — “This year, also, near unto Orford in Suffolk, certain
fishers took in their nets a fish, having the shape of a man in
all points, which fish was kept by Bartholomew de Glandeville in
the Castle of Orford six months and more. He spake not a word;
all manner of meats he did gladly eat, but most greedily raw fish.
Oftentimes he was brought to the church, but never showed any
sign of adoration. At length, not being well looked to, he stole to
the sea, and was never seen after.” — Sir Richard Baker:
Chronicle.
“Would I were back, now, in my own sea caves!
Curse that March twilight, and those stormy waves
Which rioted above me till I said
I too must rise and frolic, so I sped
Up dim green twilights of the under sea;
And louder seemed the waves to call to me,
Until I dashed their foam apart, and, lo!
The sky above with fire seemed to glow,
And in the waste, wide glare of crimson light
Made merry the mad waves, all vast and white,
And each to each roared loud some secret thing;
And the Wind seemed a strange new song to sing,
And wantoned with the waves in violent play,
As great sea-monsters do, then fled, and they
Roared after, and made haste upon her track;
Then, suddenly turning, she would hurl them back,
And they, with their own speed and rage made blind,
Wild, rent, and staggering before the Wind,
Fell, and in falling dashed high up their spray,
As with it they would drown the eyes of day.
“Being of hearing quick, it seemed to me
I heard strange sounds abroad upon the sea,
That cursed March twilight; yea, but it was fun
To swing in the waves and see the blood-red sun
Strike sharp their white and hurrying heights between,
And when the Wind would cut too strong and keen,
Just for a moment the waves dive under,
And go, as it were, through the heart of the thunder.
“How sweet the weed smelt, by the wave washed warm!
Ah, could I smell it now, and hear the storm
Make white and loud the sea above my head,
I would not leave again my soft sea bed,
And coral groves the dear sea-girls come through,
Singing the songs I love to hearken to.
That last time that I went through a great wave
Something did catch about me; and some waif
Of monstrous floating weed it was, I thought;
But when about my head and feet it caught
And seemed to bear me forward, surely then
I knew myself snared in the nets of men, —
The nets wherein our simple fish are taken.
Then, with great fear the heart in me was shaken;
My one hope was, I knew, to break the net.
For this I strove, while, with my face down set,
Through all the interposing sea I prayed
That some bold merman would make haste to aid.
But all were in their homes; none answered me, —
Only, at times, most friendly seemed the sea,
When a great wave would with a mighty blow
Send me afield; but in the fall and flow
I spun round helplessly, half choked and blind,
Hearing, above, the singing of the wind.
Then franticly the net I strove to rend,
But, being weak, came suddenly the end, —
A strain, a rush, the wind cold on my breast,
No sea, then light, then darkness was the rest,
Until I found myself here, and breast high
In dead sea-water, and above no sky,
Nor light of sea, but something hard and black;
Ah me! if I could only once go back!
“I heard a mighty noise about me; then
I looked into the faces of cursed men.
Right hard they stared. They questioned me, I knew;
But never word from me their cunning drew.
They gave me food, of which I was full glad;
And strange it was, and sweet, so that I had
Some joy in eating it; and fish they gave, —
Dear fish, that smelt and tasted of the wave;
And then they left me dark and lonely there.
“There was no sound at all upon the air;
The awful silence filled me with such dread
I violently dashed with hands and head
The water round me, that some sound might be,
Some littlest whisper from the far-off sea;
But with the light of day came noise again,
And strange it was to me, and bitter pain,
To hear the wind outside, but not the sea.
Then came fresh faces and looked hard at me,
In the cold, pitiless glare of the new day.
I heard them say it was the time to pray;
And one man cast a chain my neck about,
And with a mighty grasp he dragged me out, —
Right out into the sunlight and the wind, —
And some men walked before, and some behind.
So on we wended, till we reached a hall,
Where all around upon their knees did fall,
And made together a most dismal noise.
Then one cried to them, in a louder voice;
Whereat more wail upon the air they poured,
Then rose. Next in their midst a monster roared,
Whereat they yelled; yea, all they yelled as one,
So that I thought by fear they were undone;
And much I marvelled that they kept their ground,
For still that monster made the dreadest sound.
Then ceased he, and they ceased; and one man rose
And shouted to them, and with many blows
Did beat himself, and long and loud he screamed;
And like some fearful dream that I had dreamed
It seemed to me, and full of dread I was,
Not knowing well what next might come to pass.
But back they took me to my lonely place;
And here go by the dreary nights and days.
O shining home, wherein are all things fair;
O sea, O world of mine, where art thou, where?
O deep sea caves, wherein strange, rare things are,
And great sea-shells, that praise the sea from far!
Green hills of slippery seaweed, wet and high,
Where green-haired mermaids love full length to lie,
Their faces in the wet weed buried deep,
Till, by their gambols tired, they fall asleep!
“What joy it was to dance among the rocks,
And startle, unaware, the mild sea flocks;
Or, from afar, that low, long sound to hear,
Whereby that cruel whaling-ships are near
One whale warns all the whale-fields, and all start,
Nor rest until they reach a safer part;
To see the waves above, now green, now blue,
With light of silver fishes flashing through.
“Here through a chink I watch the evening sky;
Sometimes I think my bar is not so high
But I could overleap it, and be free,
And so go forth to seek and find the sea.
Even now the gate stands open which leads out;
I hear no sound of any man about!
Shall I not do it? Gently! It is done.
Released I stand. Ah, which way shall I run?
Straight on, I think. Ah, now be swift, my feet!
The sky is full of light; the air is sweet.
Fly fast, my feet, and faster, and more fast,
Until my long lost home be found at last.
“What sound is this ahead? O joy of joys!
It is the sea's and my own people's voice.
And as more fast I run, more loud it comes;
Mermaidens call me from their deep sea homes.
And now upon the verge of my own land
And yet within this world of men I stand.
A vast and empty place it is — ah me!
But I shall sleep to-night beneath the sea,
And wake to hear the great dear waves wash over,
And some sea-girl shall have me for her lover,
And wind about me with her cold, green tresses,
And comfort me with damp and salt caresses.
O world of men, good-by, I love ye not,
Mine is a wilder and a happier lot;
White in the moonlight shines the flying foam,
O joy! O joy, now I make haste and home!”
