Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs By Walter Thornbury. Illustrated by J. Whistler, F. Walker, John Tenniel, J. D. Watson, W. Small, F. Sandys, G. J. Pinwell, T. Morten, M. J. Lawless, and many others |
 |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
The Vizier's Parrot.
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
 | Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs |  |
The Vizier's Parrot.
The Caliph Haroun gave his Vizier Ali
An Indian parrot, green and scarlet-winged,
A bird of wisdom, once King Hownynama's;
Its filmy eyes were all with wrinkles ringed:
With gravity befitting a royal bird,
It ate and talked, and watched the coming finger,
Holding its head awry to catch the voice
Of every laughing slave or passing singer.
An Indian parrot, green and scarlet-winged,
A bird of wisdom, once King Hownynama's;
Its filmy eyes were all with wrinkles ringed:
With gravity befitting a royal bird,
It ate and talked, and watched the coming finger,
Holding its head awry to catch the voice
Of every laughing slave or passing singer.
The women of the harem called the bird
“King Red-Cloak,” for a bright flamingo colour
Was half its plumage; and its beak a dagger
Of curious curve—it needed Rustum's valour
To face its bite; peach, almond, fig, or apple,
It would dissect with calm consideration.
It was of wondrous age, and, if it chose,
Could have revealed the lore of many a nation.
“King Red-Cloak,” for a bright flamingo colour
Was half its plumage; and its beak a dagger
Of curious curve—it needed Rustum's valour
To face its bite; peach, almond, fig, or apple,
It would dissect with calm consideration.
It was of wondrous age, and, if it chose,
Could have revealed the lore of many a nation.
It was the rarest mimic: dog or ape,
Raven or child, or eunuch it could follow,
Just like an echo, giving every sound,
Or whisper, shout or scream, or cry or hallo,
With a droll twinkle of its beady eyes,
And rocking change of foot, and fluttering,
—Spiteful and humorous, goblin-like and quaint—
Of its green plumage and its crimson wing.
Raven or child, or eunuch it could follow,
Just like an echo, giving every sound,
Or whisper, shout or scream, or cry or hallo,
With a droll twinkle of its beady eyes,
And rocking change of foot, and fluttering,
—Spiteful and humorous, goblin-like and quaint—
Of its green plumage and its crimson wing.
One day the Caliph came, the Vizier gone
To hunt the leopard, and sat down beside
Red-Mantle's cage, with sugared fruits and cakes
To tempt the Indian bird, that listening eyed
The turbaned man that muttered the Koran
(His former master), with a wistful look,
And soon began to chatter o'er his hoard
Like moolah mumbling o'er a sacred book.
To hunt the leopard, and sat down beside
Red-Mantle's cage, with sugared fruits and cakes
To tempt the Indian bird, that listening eyed
The turbaned man that muttered the Koran
(His former master), with a wistful look,
And soon began to chatter o'er his hoard
Like moolah mumbling o'er a sacred book.
Not his old sayings, but his newest chat,
Gathered in the divan; the secrets hidden
From all but it,—some inklings of a plot,
But too apparent to that guest unbidden:
“The knife or bowstring!” “Tyrants must be slain,
Or they will slay us!” “Dead men tell no tales.”
“This very night after the hunting, mind,
Strike all together.” “Death to those who fail!”
Gathered in the divan; the secrets hidden
From all but it,—some inklings of a plot,
But too apparent to that guest unbidden:
101
Or they will slay us!” “Dead men tell no tales.”
“This very night after the hunting, mind,
Strike all together.” “Death to those who fail!”
102
The Caliph, brooding, listened; then arose,
And to his palace slow and silent went,
Musing o'er what he'd heard, and tracking out
The parrot's prattle with a stern intent. . . . . .
At sunset came the Vizier to his bath,
And, as he raised the curtain, met a hand,
Bony and strong, that closed upon his throat,
And choked his life out by Haroun's command.
And to his palace slow and silent went,
Musing o'er what he'd heard, and tracking out
The parrot's prattle with a stern intent. . . . . .
At sunset came the Vizier to his bath,
And, as he raised the curtain, met a hand,
Bony and strong, that closed upon his throat,
And choked his life out by Haroun's command.
| Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs | |